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#to be clear this was over the course of like a year it wasn't a weekend activity
surielstea · 5 hours
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Tattoos older than you
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Based off that Tik Tok trend: “I have tattoos older than you.” because age gap is everyone’s favorite trope, let’s be honest.
Pairing: Azriel x Archeron!Reader
Warnings: Age gap | suggestive | cute fluffiness
1.2k words
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I peek my head through the door of a familiar Shadow Singers bedroom with a mischievous grin. "Love, not tonight," The male warns from his desk, giving me a pointed look. I enter anyway, closing the door behind me with a soft click.
He sighs in faux disappointment as I approach him, footsteps padding on his carpet as shadows swarm me, curling around my ankles, up my arms, into my hair. "They love me," I beam, looking at the dark tendrils.
“They do,” He nods in heavy agreement, as if they never shut up about that fact.
"And so do you," I redirect my attention to the winged male in front of me.
"Do I?" He tilts his head tauntingly and as my reply I straddle over his lap, mounting his hips with a knowing smile. "I think I'm too old, forgot how to love," He shrugs.
"Az you're not that old," I groan.
"I'm twenty-three times your age," He argues, and my amused grin returns.
"You did the math," I tease, leaning closer to him, and pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.
"Of course I did, I can't get you out of my head," He grumbles as if it's my fault he's always thinking of me.
"Then why can't you admit that you're in love with me?" I cup his face in my hands, tilting his head and forcing him to look into my eyes.
"I do love you, and that's why I refuse to subject you to the judgment that us being together will bring you," He denies and my smile falters.
"I don't care about the judgment, I just want you," I confess, dragging a hand through his hair. "C'mon, Az," I huff, arching my back so my chest is pressed to his as I tease his lips with my own. His large hands come to my waist, his touch is tender and for a moment I think he'll give in, but instead, his grip tightens and he lifts me off his lap, placing my feet down onto the ground.
"No, the difference is too much," He rejects and I groan dramatically. The Illyrian stands, looking down at me with lowered brows. His height towers over me and his wings only add to the intimidating factor. Such an animalistic thing to do, making himself appear bigger than he truly is. He was trying to scare me off, and it wasn't going to work.
"You're fae, does age really matter as an immortal?" I take a daunting step forward and he mirrors it with a step back.
"When I'm old enough to be your great, great, great grandfather? Yes," He argues and I roll my eyes, such a stupid analogy.
"But you're not," I take another step forward.
"But I could be," He doesn't pace back.
"But, you're not," I repeat with another stride and suddenly I'm directly in front of him, chest to chest. He looks at me, his eyes swirling with both adoration and regret, adoration because he loves me, and regret because he allowed me to love him back. I stare with the most devoting and comforting gaze I can muster, I don't dare break eye contact, making it clear that my stance on the matter won't sway.
"I have tattoos older than you, love," He drags his hand through his hair, and I know in that movement that he's been defeated.
"Oh, I know," I bring my hand up to his neck, my nail tracing over dark ink that's lived there for centuries.
"You're like a friend to—" He tries but I cut him off, "That's bullshit, I could treat you better than all your previous lovers and you know it," I claim and he looks at me with those same hazel eyes I fell in love with.
He sighs, clearly upset because he's horribly losing this argument.
"Your five-hundred-year-old brothers are dating my twenty-year-old sisters. They can't judge and isn't it their opinion that matters most?" I point out and he slowly closes his eyes, needing a moment to think about the situation.
"They're mates," He attempts to explain but I don't buy it for a moment, I sling my arms around the nape of his neck with a troublesome smile.
"Are you trying to tell me you don't feel a connection between us?" I ask and he only stares down at me, knowing that if he spoke all of his truest intentions would come out.
"We're in love, let yourself be happy," I whisper, we're close enough so he can hear me. I lift onto my toes, our noses brushing and he doesn't have it in himself to back away. "Let me help you be happy," I murmur and his brows crease, in conflict with himself and everything else going against this, but I could tell by that look on his face that he wanted every part of this too.
"Do you know how helpless you make me feel?" He rasps and my smile widens.
"That's called love, Az," I explain.
"Is it always so consuming?" He asked, his voice tender and raw. My heart swells against my rib cage and I tilt my head, nose moving past his as I press a gentle kiss onto his lips then pull away as quick as I came.
“Yes,” I whisper, knowing the exact feeling he was describing. “And it’s not going to go away,” I smile softly. "Because you love me," I mumble, mostly to myself, the new confession will be at the front of my brain for the rest of the week.
"A little too much for my liking," He hums.
"Impossible," I shake my head with a grin and he leans in, pressing a hard kiss to my forehead, then one on the tip of my nose, and finally plants one to my lips. I pull him closer, my chest pressing to his as I smile onto his lips, my fingers twining into the back of his hair.
“I do love you,” He whispers against my skin as he begins to peck down the line of my jaw.
“I know,” I tease, dragging my hand from his hair and down the expanse of his tattooed neck. He pulls back only a fraction, narrowing his brows with a glare and I giggle.
“I love you too, Azzie,” I roll my eyes, pressing a tender kiss to his lips which he barely got the chance to reciprocate before I was pulling away.
“I hate it when you call me that,” He huffs.
“Would you rather I call you my great-grandfather?” I smirk and he playfully pushes me away, and I dramatically fall down onto his bed.
“I’m revoking sex tonight for that,” He warned and I smirked.
“Not even for the rest of the week? You must really love me,” I croon and he tosses me a glare before climbing into bed beside me.
“An unfortunate turn of events,” He sighed while slinging his arm around me and pulling me into him, as if it was torturous to be cuddling with me even though it was him pulling me closer.
I sling my leg over his waist and roll over, straddling his hips.
“I can’t believe you ever thought you could reject me,” I scoff and he looks up at me with a knowing expression.
“Shh, sleep now.” He pulls me down onto his chest, my chin propping up on his sternum to stare up at him. “You can tease me all you want in the morning,” He promises as I stretch out, my legs intertwining with his.
“Sounds like a perfect plan.”
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sushirrrry · 1 day
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CELESTIAL | II. NEWTON'S THIRD LAW OF MOTION
7.1k words - on-going story
chapter one here
Chapter One. Fundamentals of Statistics.
I write a few problems down, a few definitions that seem to be a bit more of a challenge. My handwriting flies across the page as I write in a few calculations that would be helpful for the exam tomorrow. I'm not an expert on statistics, but I can problem-solve easily when it comes to mathematics equations.
Everything I look at makes perfect, logical sense when it comes in the form of equation and number sequence. That was the way I liked it.
And if there was one thing that I was good at, it was creating study sheets. While I didn't necessarily need it, I thought that there may be a time tonight during studying that someone does need it.
The possibility of that felt oddly exciting, but I tried not to think too hard into it.
I had made my way home after my two classes this morning. Grabbing lunch at the dining hall, I decided to bring it back to my apartment—just a salad, really—and watched a few episodes of The Twilight Zone on the sofa while I ate. I particularly liked the episode about the bank clerk that enjoys reading, but never has the time– it keeps my attention even though I know what happens in the end.
Chase had chosen to have his classes in the afternoon, I had classes in the mornings on Thursday's. We missed each other, usually, and then were home in the midafternoon together. On Thursday nights, it kind of depended on his schedule, we would normally order in some food and just kind of hang out together.
Lately, though, Thursday afternoons had started to turn into his night to go out with friends. I knew that he had class in the morning and had seemed to overlook this part of his schedule. He leaned more towards getting drunk with friends nowadays than what we had normally scheduled, especially last year.
But that was okay—it was fine. I was fine to study Thursday nights, and I wanted him to be able to have fun, if that's what he wanted.
My only problem was when Chase brought his friends around the apartment. This was the only part of our relationship that slightly bugged me, but of course, he shared the space. I just didn't enjoy this because his friends were horrid, and I would have just rather that they weren't involved at all.
Of course, I tried not to be too much trouble. I sat back and let Chase do what he needed to do—if that meant having friends over, I wanted him to do that. I wanted him to have the experiences that he wanted, and I knew that he would be courteous to me, as well.
But that didn't keep his friends from being major blow heads.
After I ate, I had finished watching some of my show, and decided to get a start on creating some questions to go over for the statistics course. I figured that at least getting the basics down for the exam would be good—even if it wasn't going to get her the A, I still wanted her to have a clear understanding of what was being asked so she could at least have a solid effort.
I'm sat at the small table in our dining and living space; it's not much, but we're able to use it for studying or having a meal together. I decided to sit outside of my bedroom to start, the light from the living room brightened it up – it was nice, quiet.
Until Chase and his friends have arrived over to our place. I have my headphones in, eyes averting to the three men as they walk in laughing, their voices loud now.
I notice that they have started to unpack a few bags from their trip to the store. There's some food, some drinks—by some, I mean, quite a few. I hadn't asked any questions about the plans for the evening, mostly because I wasn't really interested in whatever they were.
But I did keep looking up occasionally, seeing the cases of beer, the handle of liquor, and bags of crisps that were starting to grace our small kitchen.
Again, no questions asked—that was usually the best policy when it came to things like this. I decided to keep to myself, working on categorical sequences that would be used to study patterns.
Through my headphones, I can hear a bit of banter from the three of them—I don't know if they're trying to be quiet at all, but I can hear them clearly through the Mozart No. 23 in A Major.
"So’s he, like," The tall blonde one, with the very noticeable Liverpool accent, scoffs, "Gonna stay there all night?"
I can hear them beside me, but I'm just pretending that the headphones are blocking out all the sound. They aren't, but I pretend that they are for my own sake. Maybe focusing on the work in front of me will keep me distracted.
"That guy's totally brings the vibe down— we like never see him out or anything." The other guy says. His voice is quiet, but not quiet enough. "How do you sleep here with him? He's weird, bro. Like never talks."
I look up from the computer screen just a bit, just enough to see that Chase notices that I've heard what they're saying. Chase and I make eye contact for a moment; he shakes his head.
He noticed that I heard them, and that I'm able to continue to hear them. I scoot out from my chair—the one that I pay rent to sit in—before I move up towards the fridge to grab something to drink.
They're staring at me now that I've moved, almost like it's an anomaly to them.
That's the thing—Chase has been my roommate since last year. We were paired together randomly; I didn't care who I roomed with because I felt like I could get along with anyone if it really came to it. I wasn't really an issue, I didn't think. I was quiet, kept to myself. I didn't think that I was necessarily a problem.
Chase was extremely kind– he was a bit unsure of himself, maybe testing out the waters of who he wanted to be. We got along fine, he was a bit shy when he first arrived, too. That's how we became pretty good friends. Maybe we didn't have all of the same interests, but I knew that we looked out for one another.
But then things changed when he started to meet people who wanted to go out every night, and who were drinking to get drunk. And do other things, I guess.
Chase never brought anyone home or anything, which was good– well, for me. Maybe not him, I wasn't sure. We didn't talk about that.
His friends, the drinking, the going out– it didn't stop Chase and I from being friends. It just made me a bit uneasy when he's brought his friends to our apartment that we shared.
His friends weren't my friends.
His friends were on the football team and went out to pubs to find pretty girls. That just wasn't where I was, and it wasn't what I was directly focused on in school. Girls weren't interested in astrophysics, I seemed to find.
Chase's stare on me doesn't go unnoticed as I look back from grabbing a can of Coke from the fridge. I make my way back to the small table, starting to pack up the papers I had spread around it.
"Harry, you remember Hayden and Shawn, right?" Chase looks at his friends and I can tell he's trying to mitigate like always. He looks back at me with a bit of sadness reigning in his face, "We'll leave you alone, H, you can stay and study."
I shut my laptop, knowing it's much easier to find a more comfortable spot elsewhere.
I had to be at the library soon, anyways.
"No, it's fine," I say, a bit quiet as I watch his friends grumble under their breaths "I'm meeting someone anyways."
The tall blonde with a middle part and a denim jacket scoffs out a laugh before I feel a rush of anxiety flood my upper chest as I can feel the judgement and overwhelming sense of unease. I clear my throat, grabbing my laptop and loose papers before heading towards my bedroom.
"Wait," I hear Chase following me, but I just make my way to my room in a few strides anyways. I start to pack up a bag of my belongings, eyes looking up at my friend. "Why don't you stay here and drink with us? You don't even have to drink, really. It'll be fun. Maybe they can, I don't know, get to know you."
"I'd rather not get to know them," I tell him honestly. My lip pulls into my mouth, his exterior shows a bit of defeat as he stands inside the doorframe. "They're pricks, Chase."
Chase looks over his shoulders at his friends who have started to make themselves at home. They've started to take already opened liquor out of our cabinets, putting them on the counter space around the unopened ones. They take bowls out and plates and other things that are also mine but it's easier to stay quiet.
"Just keep everyone out of my room, please." I tell my friend before I pick my bag up from the floor. I grab all of the statistics papers from the desk, placing them in their own folder.
Chase stands at the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, keeping conversation. "You meeting with Niall, then?"
Niall was one of my closest friends in uni. He was majoring in engineering, but we had a few math classes together which had made us grow close. We had the same type of love for our education; wanting it to be the best we could be.
We were competitive with grades, in a fun way. We liked knowing how everything worked and figuring out problems together.
Niall and I had gone to a few parties and events together in the past– we had both understood that wasn't our scene very quickly.
And that's why we were friends.
"No," I shake my head. "He's busy tonight. I think has some sort of club fundraiser. Don't really know."
Chase's face changes a bit. I look up to him when he squints at me, his lips quivering a bit into a smile. It's a bit unnerving when he does so, and it's just a bit confusing at first.
"What? What's wrong?" I ask, grabbing my shoes that sit over by the closet to put on my shoes.
"Is it someone I know? The person you're meeting?" Chase doesn't attend back to his friends, and only seems to be entertained by what I'm doing. I blink a few times at him, wondering his angle.
"Uh," I think a few times over at how Chase could have possibly known Stella, "How would I know? Maybe. It's just a girl from my statistics class. Needs some tutoring for our exam tomorrow." I throw my bag over my shoulder before I'm standing in front of him.
We're standing in front of each other, but he's not backing down from his way in the door. Chase's smile flips up and he stares at me for a moment.
"Chase." I say, pushing my glasses up, "I have to get to the library."
"Tutoring is kind of sexy, huh?" He teases, my eyes roll at his stupid comment.
"It's not like that." I tell him quickly, shaking his head.
"Surely, she asked you to study with her. Not the other way around." He questions, putting his arms across the doorframe so that I couldn't leave. I stand in front of him, trying my best to dodge the questions and seemingly meaningless accusations.
"Does that matter?" I ask, a bit confused by his statement.
I watch as Chase smirks, his eyes lighting up at my words, "Hope you won't end up in 414.”
Pushing my glasses up my face, I shake my head a few times as I stare at him, completely unsure of what he was talking about. I don't even want to ask, but I can see that he's pushing me to, so I shrug my shoulders at him. I've given up that he's going to let me go.
"I don't know what that means." I say to him before I watch his eyes get bigger.
"You don't know about 414? Damn, you do live under a rock."
I roll my eyes, pushing at his shoulder to try to move past him before he pushes me back and laughs a little.
"414 is a room on the top level of the library where no one ever goes—it's like, completely hidden. There's a journal for it across from the room where people like, write in time slots to go and fuck because it's a completely soundproof study room that you can lock. For all those freaky kids. You'd probably be into that, honestly."
I lick over my lips as I push into him again, but he's not budging. I look at him, trying to get him to wipe the smug smile from his face before he raises his brows at me.
I click my tongue, "I'm going to completely ignore this conversation, if you don't mind. Now, if you'll excuse me."
Chase rolls his eyes, letting me finally go by removing one arm from the doorframe.
I knew I've made a mistake saying anything at all, as I push past him to try to make my way out of the apartment in one piece without thinking anymore into what kind of information he's just given me.
I walk into the kitchen; it's not much, so it feels a bit cramped with the four of us now inhabiting the space. Chase's friends are standing around and suddenly quiet when I approach the room. I unscrew my water bottle at the sink, filling it up in the silence of the room.
“What's up, Einstein?" The other friend with very dark hair smirks at me, both lingering as Chase approaches too. "Why don't you take a break from studying and hang tonight with the boys? Or are we too much for you?"
I ignore it– pulling my lips into my mouth as I bite my tongue. I screw the lid back on before I turn and see Chase looking at me.
"We're just having a few people over tonight, nothing big. Then we're going to happy hour at Lou's." Chase assures before I nod at him. I clear my throat before pulling at the straps of my backpack.
"That's– okay, yeah, that's fine." I assure him. "I'll be back later."
With another nod, I go to the front door where a small dish holds all our keys. I grab my lanyard that holds my car key and my apartment key before I start to head towards the stairs. A few sets of those, and I'm on the main floor as I move out towards the library which is only a short walk.
Just my thoughts and I again.
It had thankfully stopped raining a few hours ago, which just left everything quite damp and wet. I trudged through a few puddles on my way there, looking across campus.
There weren't a lot of people walking around, probably because it was also a bit on the cool side. I had been wearing the same black hoodie from the morning, so I wasn't cold on my walk over there.
But it was getting to be the colder part of the year. England had rainier seasons, and the fall always seemed to have the worst weather. At least snow looked nice—rainy, damp, and dreary were just a bit depressing.
Making my way to the library, I open the large door and smile at the girl who sits behind the desk at the entrance. She's always very friendly, giving me a warm welcome when I walk in. She had short blonde hair, golden brown eyes and is always looks like she's happy to be there.
If she's not, she's putting on a great show.
“Hey, Harry,” She states softly, “How's it going?”
I wish I knew her name– she knows mine, so I feel a bit awkward as I approach the desk. She's never really talked to me before, but I smile at her.
“Uh, it's good,” I nod, rolling a hand through my hair, “I– just have an exam tomorrow. So,” I reference upstairs, feeling that my cheeks are most definitely hot from the way she's hanging in every word.
She’s sitting behind the desk, a book on the table as she seems to have been reading while she sat there. I know I should say something– maybe add a bit of conversation but I don't know what else to say.
I smile and nod a few times, using my hand to scratch at my hair in an uncomfortably awkward way.
“I’ll see–“ I start.
“Would you–“ She says.
When we speak at the same time, we both smile, and I hear her giggle for a moment before she shakes her head.
“I was just saying,” She licks her lips, “If you're ever interested, we have a book club here on Tuesday nights. I-I mean, I’m just saying because you're always here– I don't know if you read for fun or anything,” She clears her throat, “But if you did.”
I look down at the book in her hands, nodding a few times before I speak again. “That– is that the book?”
She notices that I caught sight of what she was reading, looking up me and holding the cover up, “Yes– well, no, actually. It's just a Murakami book– After Dark. This isn't what we read for book club– well, kind of.”
I looked at the cover and back to her, cutting her off as she seems a bit flustered. “I may check it out, yeah,” I swallow before clarifying, “The club. The club and the book.”
The girl bites her lip before she shakes her head, “Um– sorry, I’m Faye, by the way.”
I bite my cheek as I watch her eyes crinkle at the sides when her cheeks turn up in a small smile.
“Faye.” I say quietly before I nod at her, “I’ll see you around.”
She nods back at me in acknowledgement before I start to make my way back towards the steps, so I can make my way to the third floor where I usually have my set up. It's nice because it's always the least busy of the levels. The first floor holds computers, which are the most used for printing and workshopping. The second and fourth floors have more study rooms, and the third floor is mostly aisles of books and free tables.
That's where I prefer to be, close to the window so that I can look out occasionally over all the people who are making their way across campus; heading wherever they need to be on a Thursday evening. It also adds a bit of lighting until the sun heads back on the other side of the world, which is helpful just for a while.
The watch on my wrist reads 6:12pm. I had a while before I was expecting someone else to arrive.
It had started to get a bit darker—mostly because the clouds had started to overcast, which meant that the sun wasn't visible anyways. The days were starting to shorten, and winter was starting to become a bit more of a reality.
As I sat and studied other classes, I had realized that my watch started to move a bit faster every time I looked at it.
Six turned into seven.
Seven turned into eight. And I was still sitting at the table by myself.
Being in the library by myself was lonely– it was the first time that loneliness and being alone were coexisting. Something about being stood up, being left alone was a different level of loneliness. It was an embarrassing loneliness.
I tried to focus on other work at my table, tried to think more about Mach's principle as I read through the textbook. I tried to ignore the time, tried to ignore the feeling in my chest that maybe I had miscommunicated about times or where we were supposed to meet. Maybe I had given her a false impression, or we miscommunicated on time.
There were reasons I didn't put expectations on people– in many ways, they never showed up like they were supposed to. I didn't want to feel disappointment anymore, or that my excitement didn't match others.
Doing good deeds seemingly never panned out in my favor, as it showed. Maybe I read into it too much, maybe she felt bad for me and decided to ask to hang out so I wouldn't feel so shy. Maybe she said yes because so had approached her, now she felt bad.
It worked, I guess. For a bit.
I couldn't focus– I hated that feeling. I never had a problem with it before, and now these ideas of anxiety rushed through my head as I tried to put my nose to the page to forget about the way that this had made me feel. My glasses fell to the bridge of my nose, and I pushed them up to their place.
A heavy sigh fell through my lips as I noticed the time that had simply slipped by.
8:30.
I had been waiting for hours– I told her I'd be here at six, and I gave her the benefit of the doubt for an hour. But now it was spelled out perfectly for me, and I didn't really want to read between the lines.
Sitting back in the wooden library chair, I ran a hand through my hair as I finally decide that it's time for me to start heading home.
Hopefully, Chase and his friends have moved onto the bars, and won't be there when I get back. That would just put me in a worse mood. As I push myself up to start packing up my belongings to head home, I hear the door of the staircase open.
I'm the only one up here most nights, so the noise elicits me to jerk my head up. The sound of clicking heels on the tile make my eyebrows knit before I see the culprit of the noise, and the person heading towards me from around the large bookcases.
My eyes gravitate towards the extraordinarily long, bronze legs that melt into tall, brown boots on the ends. A cream skirt that sits short on her thighs but high on her waist, with a knit sweater top that has a few buttons done up in the middle, but the rest of open in a triangular shape on her torso. Also bronze, also tall.
I've never seen anything like that in the library before.
"Oh my god, there you are!" The girl stomps her way over, her voice relatively loud for the space as I feel an unsettled amount of surprise. It is a library, after all, and she's a bit loud.
I'm a bit taken aback; I fall into the chair once again as I'm watching her pull out the chair in front of me.
"Who knew there were so many levels of this place?" She laughs to herself– the glitter on her eyes shines so bright as I notice the crinkles by her eyes. "Don't know if I've—well, I don't think I've ever been in here properly, really."
It's such a difference of what she looked like just hours before. The tear stains are gone, there's a lightness to her now that's different. The makeup coating her face is natural and dewy with such high points of shine, her lips pouty and brown with a glossy finish.
I'm absolutely confused and feeling suddenly warm underneath the black hoodie at the same time.
But there's also a slur to her words as she places her hands and the small bag on the wooden table loudly.
"I'm sorry I'm late," She rolls her eyes dramatically, "I got dragged to this thing– well, I mean, I had to go to it. But I thought that this was a really good excuse to leave." She giggles a little, her smile bright and white.
I watch as her sleek, dark brown hair coats over her shoulders. It's got a bounce of soft curls that are much different than the chaos of curls that had been thrown into a ponytail earlier.
I'm in a bit of shock as I look away from her and back to the papers that have surrounded me just moments before.
"Um– I mean, are you—" I look up at her, watching as her eyes struggle to follow mine. There's a soft smile on her lips as she leans on the table a bit almost like my question is the most exciting thing to her. "Are you drunk?"
Her face falls a bit, as if I just found out her biggest secret. She shakes her head a few times, "No– no, I just had a few—" She shakes her head more, but I can tell that her balance is a bit off as she shakes her head. "I'm totally fine."
In the moment, I see that her body seems to stiffen at recognizing that my energy simply doesn't match hers. She can see that I'm a bit taken back by her suddenness of being here, and I don't really know how to react to her sitting across from me now.
I don't really know how to feel now because I'm not sure I was planning for this situation at all. Especially from the morning that she had. It was different, it wasn't exactly what I had expected from her, and I'm trying to think about how to proceed.
"So," I start, a bit confused, "you're not here to study.”
I watch as her eyes shift over the papers that I am starting to put away, maybe a bit guilty that she had come in the first place. Maybe it would have been better to be stood up than to watch the look on her face.
"Oh, are you, like," She licked over her lips, her eyes batting a few times before she notices that I've started to pick up a few things around me. "Were you getting ready to leave?” The look on my face must register because her eyes drop and she bites her lip, “Oh, fuck—okay, yeah. I'm sorry. I'm so stupid– I'm sorry."
"No, you're not. I just– must've been some miscommunication." I tell her softly, nodding a few times to remind us both that we had just been mistaken.
Stella goes to stand from her spot, pushing herself up from the chair before she pulls the skirt down her legs a bit. I watch as she grabs the small bag that had been sitting on her shoulder when she walked in.
She tucks her hair behind her ear, and I notice the small earrings that are in the dainty shape of stars settle into her lobes.
I clear my throat.
"You didn't have to—I mean, you didn't have to come, if you were having fun. I just– I mean, I thought you needed help.” I tell her softly, watching as she seems a bit lost about where to go now.
As if this was the only place she was planning on going. Almost like she didn't really see this outcome, or maybe felt like she wasn't wanted here. That wasn't the truth at all, but I didn't know how to express that.
A bit of glitter has fallen from her eyes, landing softly on her cheeks as she stands at the table.
"I knew that I was going to leave the party early," She nods her head softly, "I just didn't—yeah, I messed up and– like, I do need help but I just... Sorry for wasting your time."
There's a moment when she starts to walk off that I stand from my seat, pushing the chair back. A weird, unidentifiable feeling comes over me.
“Stella, wait."
Her head turns back towards me, a bit of a stumble in her step at the high-heeled brown boots that stack up her calves and to her knee. The unsteadiness of her walking seems a bit dangerous to me, and I don't really want to see her fall.
"Can I—I mean, don't feel like you have to say yes but," I push my hands into my jean pockets as I take in a deep breath, "Let me take you back to your friends, or something. I mean, I don't want you to—" I shake my head at my words, knowing that they sound a bit odd as we don't know each other at all. "You shouldn't be walking on campus by yourself at night."
Her eyebrows knit together, like she was trying to process the way that I spoke to her. She stared at me, a familiar stare from earlier in the morning. This time, she looked a bit more vulnerable. It was almost like she was in disbelief that I would even offer in the first place.
"Oh," She turns to me a bit, her arms crossed over her chest. "Yeah, sure."
Before there's any more conversation, I start to pack my belongings back in my backpack. All of the papers I had created for her were stuffed back into the folders, hopefully she didn't even notice that I had done that to begin with. My cheeks flush just at the thought of how ridiculous it sounded now.
Once the backpack is full, I throw it over my shoulder and start to move a bit closer to her.
Orange blossom and citrus melt from her skin, which makes me shut my eyes just at the idea of it. We start to head down the steps of the library, her feet almost dragging underneath her.
I'm not entirely sure that she realizes how many drinks she's had, but I let her take the side of the railing so that she can make her way down without tripping.
On the last staircase, her toe gets stuck underneath her foot, which makes her stumble a few times. I reach my hand out, grabbing at her elbow to steady her as she gasps at the way her balance has been thrown off. The immediate touch burns my palm, feeling her skin through the sweater material of her top.
"You okay?" I ask, watching as she nods her head a few times, humming—possibly a bit embarrassed by how off she really is. "Where do we need to get you?"
I watch as her brain starts to turn at the thought of where she needs to get to. I wonder how she got here in the first place, and who let her walk around campus like this on her own. I try to meet her eyes as she rubs at them, a bit of makeup smudging as she does so.
"Um," She shakes her head, "Flats towards 12th West. Don't really know what they're called."
We're standing outside of the library now; I'm facing her as she tries to recall where we need to go. I don't know that I've ever really dealt with a drunk person before like this. Chase was better at taking care of himself, so this was new to me.
I nod a few times, "I'm headed over there, too. Can you call a friend to ask?"
I watch as she hums to herself, agreeing with me and grabbing her cellphone out of her purse. It immediately drops to the ground from the slip of her fingers, landing with a crunch.
"Son of a fucking bitch," She exclaims, moving to squat down to grab it, but I'm already there.
Her reflexes are obviously not what they need to be, as she puts her hand over mine when we both reach for the phone. She doesn't pull away quickly, instead, keeping it there for a moment as I turn the phone around in my palm so that she can grab it.
"Thanks," She says softly, looking at the newly broken screen that leaves a large crack up the middle of her phone. "Fuck."
I watch her go to unlock the device, scrolling through her apps before landing on one and looking at it a bit intensely. The crack seems to not be that big of a deal anymore as she starts to focus harder on the screen.
"This building, here," I see that she's looking at the Find My Device, looking at a device that is right in the general direction of my apartment building. A friends contact pops up, and I try to see where it is.
The closer I look at the device, the more I notice... it is my flat building.
I take in a breath as I look at the girl, wondering if she had partaken in the Jack Daniels that had sat on the counter before I left for the library. I wonder if the scent of orange blossom would linger on my sofa at home.
The odd thought is immediately pushed from my brain as I return to reality. "I live over there, so I'll just walk you back, okay? Tell me if anything looks familiar."
My eyes linger over her body that she is crossing her arms over. The slight chill in the air makes her legs to shift a few times as we stand. I can tell that her discomfort is overwhelming her, and I feel like watching her is hurting me in a way.
"Here," I set my backpack on the ground by my feet for a moment.
Her eyes watch me do so before I pull the black hoodie from my torso, over my head. I knock my glasses on my face a bit so they're on the edge of my nose. The warmth of the cover on my body is now gone, but I watch as she seems a bit uncertain on what I'm doing.
"Take this. It's a bit of a walk." I hand her the black hoodie, her eyes trailing over it for a moment. I can see there's hesitation, which only makes the anxiety settle in my chest at her unwillingness to take the piece of clothing.
This is probably weird, and I regret it immediately.
I watch as she grabs it from my hand to throw over her body, a bit disoriented. When she lifts her arms up, the edges of her top move up around the bottom of her ribs.
I flush immediately, a heat rising up my neck almost disregarding the coolness in the air tonight.
My eyes look away, but seeing her head pop out from the hoodie makes me feel better that at least she can stay warm now.
I can't imagine that someone has allowed her to be out here like this. She walked all this way, alone, without someone to help her. She can barely walk in a straight line as we start down the other towards the apartment.
A bit of wind sweeps through, her legs exposed, and my own arms now just bare with my t-shirt.
I don't know how to firmly create conversation with her– mostly because I know that her mind isn't in the right place. Stella and I do not seem compatible, and every move she makes reminds me of that. I've watched an odd twelve hours of her life, from a huge mess to a complete mess.
But, something about her is intriguing. I’m the curious type.
My hands push into my pockets, the backpack thankfully shielding my back as we walk down the cobblestone pathways. We've walked a bit in silence, and I feel like that's for the best. But I try to give a bit of talking points in case she needs it.
"Anything look familiar?" I say, trying to keep myself warm as I feel her sway a bit against me.
Her eyes move from their site in the path to where we are on campus.
"N-No," Her teeth chatter, and I feel incredibly guilty for not driving over here instead. "B-but this is s-so nice of you." She turns her head, a mess of soft curls in her face as she pushes they out of her eyes. "You must h-have a good m-mum."
I knit my brows together, a bit confused by her logic. I push my hands far in my pocket as I grit my teeth together at how cool out it is. "Why do you say that?"
"Only a g-guy with a nice m-mum would walk a g-girl home in her going-out clothes without l-looking at her ass and just covering her u-up more." Stella chuckles a little bit; it sounds like she's trying to make a joke, but it only aches in my chest as she crosses her arms over her chest tightly.
I didn't really find that funny.
I pull my lips into my mouth as I turn my lips up just enough to acknowledge her humor. "You just need to get home safely."
I hear her sniffle next to me, the coldness getting to her. The bright pink of her nose is noticeable as the coolness hits us.
My apartment building is in sight, her eyes reach up. "This is where the party was." Her hand points directly at my building before I nod a few times.
"I live there, actually," I say, biting my lip. "I think my roommate was throwing the party you went to. His name is Chase."
Stella clears her throat, wiping at her nose, "Oh! Yeah, yeah. I know Chase.” She tells me, biting her lip, “I didn't know you lived there. You're never there when we come over.”
I take a breath in, “I– I probably am there. I just– I just don't really…”
“Not your scene?” She asks, the heel of the boots click across the pavement.
I shrug. “Not really. I– I don't drink or anything. I don't know.”
Stella tucked her hair behind her ear, “You don't have to drink. Maybe you could just hang out. You seem,” I look over at her once she pauses, “You seem really nice.”
I tuck my bottom lip between my teeth before I feel the tinge of a smile. “Thanks. You're pretty nice, too.”
When we reach the door, I open it before she walks inside the lobby. We make our way to the stairs– the elevator is seemingly always broken. I take the lead, going in front of her before we reach the second level.
When we make our way down the hall and to the front door of my flat, Stella doesn't say anything else. She just seems to accept that this is where she needs to be, and she seems to recognize where she is.
The music is over-stimulatingly loud from where we're standing out front, and I’m trying to anticipate walking into it. My hands reach into my pockets as I grab the keys. She looks much smaller wrapped in the black hoodie as it drapes down her front, hiding the remnants of the cream skirt that is gracing her small frame.
I stick the key in the door, pushing it open and hearing the blast of music immediately hit us both.
They hadn't left yet, like they said they would.
When we walk in, I move in first, Stella following behind. I look around, seeing more faces that I didn't know. There are significantly more faces now, and I just let out a sigh.
When I walk towards the kitchen, I can feel Stella behind me before I catch Chase’s eye, but I hear a louder voice first.
"Stella," I hear, "where the fuck did you go?"
I watch the blonde man from earlier approach her immediately disregarding me, a beer in his hand as he gets too close to us. I watch hesitantly as he pulls her closer, as if my existence was purely nonexistent to him.
I drop my keys in the small dish before star making my way through the crowd of people to walk back down the hall and to my bedroom, as if the past hour didn't happen. The noise of the bass is a bit overwhelming; the people don't seem to interest me.
"Needed to go for a walk." I hear her say, "I thought you guys were going to get something to eat?"
"Harry!" My eyes move to the kitchen where Chase seems a little looser than before; his smile undoubtedly bigger as he comes closer to me.
My head turns back, as I feel a grip on my arm before I can make a getaway.
"You found Hayden's girlfriend?" He asks, his eyes moving towards the familiarity of the brunette with amber eyes who had my black hoodie on over her body.
Everyone was way too drunk to miss that part. The black hoodie– I’m sure if someone knew, I'd be in trouble for that.
I stare at her talking to Hayden, her face looking relatively upset from their conversation. His hand reaches to her waist, pulling her in to kiss her.
Immediately, I look away. I feel a racing in my heart that's feels completely unnatural and like anything else I've ever felt before. Maybe the feeling of throwing up is also present, which is also weird to me.
My head turns away from the interaction– I start to pull away from Chase, back to the safer confines of my room. Back where my time and kindness aren't taken for granted.
Back to where something as simple as watching that interaction doesn't add a ridiculous ping of annoyance in the settlement of my chest.
"Yeah, something like that." I say to him, moving away before he can follow me to my room, just like earlier.
"How was your studying?" He asks, pretending like he cares for a moment. I can tell by the look in his eyes he won't remember this conversation tomorrow.
I turn towards him, holding my door in my hand, "Don't know if she's going to remember anything tomorrow for the exam. But I tried."
With a simple shut, the music is still a bit too loud from the other side of the door. But, out of sight, out of mind.
I had a stats exam to finish studying for.
______________
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i’ve got you
JJ Maybank x sister!reader
summary: an anxious Y/N feels overwhelmed while partying with the pogues at the boneyard, and JJ does his best to calm her nerves.
warning(s): underaged drinking, panic attack
a/n: a big thank you to anyone who enjoyed my last maybank!sister snippet. i hope to write a lot more for JJ in the future, so feel free to leave any requests if you have any specific ideas of what you’d like to read!
also please let me know if i should make these shorter. lol. i'm never sure.
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Y/N screwed her eyes shut, trying and failing to keep her hands from trembling as they dented her red solo cup. Her heart was beating so fast that her head could barely keep up, the loud music and sweaty bodies that enclosed her doing nothing to ease her mind.
It was a picturesque summer night out in the boneyard, which of course meant that the Pogues just had to have a kegger. Y/N had grown used to the routine by then, tagging along as they went out to buy the keg and an insane amount of plastic cups that Kie always complained she found littered all over the beach the morning after. Y/N typically helped in the prep for whatever wild evening lay ahead, and had even served as a DD the few times that the Pogues got plastered enough to willingly allow a 15-year-old to drive the Twinkie. However, despite her brother's constant pleading and nagging, she'd never actually attended one of their infamous beach parties.
At least, not until tonight.
Y/N had always been shy, the complete opposite of her elder brother and all of his wild impulsivity. She hated big crowds and loud noises, and even though she would occasionally drink one while out on the Pogue, she wasn't even the biggest fan of beer. But JJ had begged her to join them all day long, poking and prodding at her nerves in his attempts to finally get his baby sister out of her shell.
"Come on, Y/N. You really wanna spend the rest of your life cooped up in the chateau?" he'd said dramatically, throwing his hands up in desperation. "You really oughtta live a little sometime."
You really oughtta live a little sometime.
His words had haunted her well into the evening, and at the last minute she'd finally decided to bite the bullet. JJ was right, after all. While most kids her age were busy making memories and taking risks, she spent her evenings curled up with a book in her lap.
Sure, it wouldn't be the most comfortable experience, but what was the worst that could happen? After all, like her brother always said, stupid things had good outcomes all the time.
She made a mental note to correct JJ on that stupid motto as someone pushed past her, blowing chunks into the bushes only a few feet away from rigid form.
Y/N covered her nose, averting her gaze just in time to notice a familiar head of blond hair breaking through the mess of bodies whooping and grinding on one another.
"Holy shit!" JJ hollered wildly, dimples painfully visible in his state of drunken bliss. "Tom, that's some gnarly shit, man! Trust me, you're gonna feel that tomorrow." He gave the boy a pat on the back as he retched, though thankfully the steady stream of vomit had ended.
Y/N only stood and watched. It was clear that JJ hadn't seen her, but maybe that was for the best. The last thing she wanted was to ruin his night.
"Yo, Y/N/N!"
Too late.
JJ made his way over in sloppy strides, and Y/N turned up her nose at the stench of alcohol clinging to him. He pulled her into him with an arm slung over her shoulders.
"Hi, Jay." Y/N hoped her brother was drunk enough not to notice the tremble in her voice.
"Where'd you go, kid? I've been looking for you all night." He was leaning on her now, gleefully unaware as he slowly crushed her beneath his weight. Y/N groaned with the effort it took to keep her brother upright, struggling not to remind him that it was in fact he who left her to do some shots and never returned.
"Yeah I was . . . I was j-just--"
"Shit, I didn't know you were drinking. That's my girl," he slurred with a wink, pointing at the cup Y/N was damn near close to dropping. It was all getting too much for her—JJ's weight boring into her side, the overwhelming stench of beer, the screaming mouths and dancing bodies slowly closing her in. She felt like a caged animal, her lungs tight and chest heavy.
"Hey, you seen Pope yet? I lost him an hour ago—saw him walk off with some blonde chick with a tramp stamp. Oh, you need a top-up? You should go now, 'm pretty sure the keg's getting low."
JJ continued to ramble on as Y/N crumbled underneath him, her eyes searching desperately for somewhere to go.
"Aw man, I love this song!" Y/N gasped as JJ began jerking her around, forcing her to sway back and forth with him. "Yo, Kurt! Turn that shit up bro!"
Y/N felt blood rushing to her ears, her hands growing clammy as her nerves took over. You're fine, she told herself. You're fine, you're fine. But it wasn't working—she couldn't hear herself think over the music blaring from the speakers.
"Come on, loosen up Y/N! Let's dance!"
"No!" Y/N reached her breaking point, escaping from beneath her brother's outstretched arm. JJ stumbled, just barely managing to catch himself and get a good look at the fear etched into Y/N's features.
"What? Y/N—" He held out a hand that she cringed away from, breathing raggedly as she backed away.
"Just leave me alone!"
"Y/N!" JJ called after her as she ran off, not knowing exactly where she was headed but intent on getting away. She wound up crouching behind a small hill across from the bustling core of the party, far enough away that the music finally fell to an acceptable volume.
Y/N brought her knees to chest and buried her face in them, fingers tugging at her hair as tears spilled from her eyes. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could she be dumb enough to let JJ convince her that this would be a good idea? Y/N forced her breathing to slow as her chest tightened, coughing in her feeble attempts.
Y/N had listened to a few songs run their course by the time she managed to get a grip on herself, her breaths steadying as she counted eight-second inhales and eight-second exhales. Still Y/N rested her forehead against her knees, so dead-set on staying calm that she didn't notice the sound of JJ's footsteps in the sand.
"Hey." Y/N gasped, her head shooting upright as she scrambled to back away from whoever had found her. "Hey, calm down. It’s alright, Y/N." She sighed in relief when she recognized JJ's outline in the dark, her brother crouched before her shrunken form. "It's okay. Just me."
"Oh," she mumbled. "Sorry."
"'S okay. Didn't mean to scare you." He awkwardly held out another cup to her, which she observed warily. "Don't worry, it’s just water. Figured it might help more than beer."
Y/N smiled, accepting JJ's peace offering gratefully. "You'd be right about that." She greedily drank it all one gulp, only then realizing how dry her mouth had gotten. "Thanks, Jay."
"Least I could do, since I forced you to come her." Y/N sighed, noticing the guilt swimming in her brother's blue eyes.
"You didn't force me."
"Well, I might as well have."
"it's not your fault, JJ." He rested a comforting hand on her knee.
"Sure it is. I knew you didn't like this kind of scene and I dragged you here anyway." He ran his free hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut as regret consumed his intoxicated mind.
"It's okay." Y/N shuffled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. JJ ruffled her hair. "Sorry I can't be a party animal like you."
"Ah, don't sweat it. Makes my job a lot easier, anyway." Y/N giggled, shoving him lightly, and JJ couldn't help but smile. "So, what's the plan? Want me to drive you home?"
Y/N scoffed. "I don't even think you could if you tried."
"Oh, Y/N," He teased her with a smile, "you severely underestimate my driving skills."
"And you severely overestimate my willingness to die." JJ chuckled at that. "Plus, who said I wanted to leave?"
"Wait . . . you're gonna stay?'
"Yeah, why not? I mean, I've made myself a pretty comfy hideout over here." JJ pouted.
"I guess . . ." JJ looked down at her with a smirk. "Or you could try the party again."
Immediately Y/N felt that skin-crawling uncertainity take over once more. She bit at her bottom lip. "I don't . . . I dunno, Jay."
"Look, I promise I won't leave you this time. We can just sit around the campfire—maybe try to find Kie or something. What'd'ya think?" He held out a hand to her. "We'll take it slow."
Y/N considered this for a moment, eventually taking hold of her brother's hand. "Okay."
"Sweet!" JJ tried his best to stand, but only wound up falling back on his ass. "I'm gonna need some help getting up, though."
Y/N laughed, hoisting her brother to his feet with a grunt, and JJ smiled as she allowed her hand to linger in his while they walked. The very same way she did when they were little.
Just like JJ promised, he found the two of them a space to sit by the blazing campfire and never left Y/N's side.
・❥・
Hours had passed before the kegger had begun to die down, their beer long gone and speakers long dead. The rest of the Pogues had finally joined the Maybanks around the fire pit, and the group listened comfortably as Kie plucked at the strings of her ukulele. "Y'know, Jay. I wouldn't mind trying this kegger thing again."
JJ smiled. "You mean it?"
"Yeah, I mean it." She snuggled closer to his chest, absorbing whatever extra heat his body offered. "As long as you're there to hold my hand."
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anastacialy · 2 days
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actually, fuck it, i AM writing the essay, even if no one will read it.
my thoughts on penelope, how she sees herself, and why the carriage scene's ending is the most important thing in the whole wide world under the cut. and bridgerton season three part one spoilers, obviously.
penelope featherington hates herself. bit of a strong start here but, there we go. that's what you get when i'm going feral about her again at three in the morning. (it was eleven a.m. when i finished writing this post. i rewatched all four episodes of season three...)
i'll start from the beginning — she isn't a confident person. i think that's what a lot of penelope hate really comes down to, not relating to her in that way at all. not understanding what being treated the way she has can do to you. so let's start here:
imagine for a moment, no one fucking listens to you.
this includes her favorite people in the world. her family, for one thing, that's obvious, but her best friend, too. many times we hear eloise discover and re-discover what penelope's interests are in the series because, as she says, "i didn't really hear it." she was so frequently not really listening to her. they've been friends for years, but huge aspects of her friend's personality were completely unknown to her. this isn't anti-eloise by the way, i love her too, but we're adults who can admit our favs are all flawed people. the show wouldn't be nearly as fun if they weren't. eloise continues to belittle others for their interests when they don't match up to hers (like that poor girl who was just really passionate about embroidery) and she's done so to pen, however unknowingly, for ages.
penelope tried to beg marina to not fool colin into marriage. she had so, so many other suitors, so many other choices she could have made. all pen wanted was to not have her other best friend slash crush make that life altering of a mistake. but for this, she was called a child. immature. talked down to as if she knows nothing about the world. (she had been mostly right, by the way, in her insisting that george must still love marina, would still want to marry her, discovering that the letter had been forged. if he'd not died on the battlefield, penelope would have been the one to secure a happy ending for marina.) when she wasn't listened to then, she got more desperate, telling colin that marina was in love with someone else to deter him from the marriage while still careful to not ruin marina's reputation and expose her pregnancy in the process. she tried. but no one would listen.
so only when the situation became dire, she did the only thing that she could, and took matters into her own hands.
which brings us to lady whistledown.
it's interesting, really, that she chose that name. to specify lady so she might be taken seriously, yet not hide under a pseudonym completely removed from herself (i.e. using a masculine pen name or implying she's not a part of the ton at all) it's clear that lady whistledown is, for the most part, what penelope wants to and yet fails to be: someone who commands attention, who people admire and trust for an opinion, someone who gets listened to.
by the time we find her in season three, she's fresh off hearing her crush saying he'd never, ever court her, and her best friend finding out that she was lady whistledown all along and had exposed a secret of hers — only after penelope had, of course, also begged eloise to stop seeing theo, to stop raising the queen's suspicions, and was once again ignored. her only friendships have been destroyed, and she has resigned herself to a loveless marriage of convenience because she can't stand to be ignored, controlled, and belittled by her family any longer. she's ready to take the devil she doesn't know over the devil she does.
so, when i say her self confidence is on the floor, i mean it.
yes, a sliver of hope remains in her, and we can see that in her decisions (wearing parisian fashions, for instance) but her plan remains, she is simply going to marry someone, anyone, because she has to.
but even still, her confidence has not taken it's last hit.
let's imagine some more: no matter what you do, people are going to laugh at you.
penelope finally, finally gets her big moment. people stare at her as she enters the room. she still immediately hides herself in a corner because that's who she's always been, but still. she has a moment. not quite what she'd imagined, i'm sure, as she bought all new gowns, but attention and awe nonetheless. but it cracks almost instantly when her social awkwardness comes out, failing to get anyone to ask her to dance, and shatters completely when cressida destroys her dress before she can ever take to the floor.
colin tells her she looks nice, and her immediate reaction is "do not mock me, please."
it's only after this that she confronts colin about what he said, only after this that she speaks ill of him as lady whisteldown — not saying any more than what his sister had already pointed out earlier in the episode, mind you, that his change in personality seemed disingenuous — only after she has been publicly humiliated that she lashes out in her anger.
and, this anger, she also immediately regrets after colin has proven himself to be kind. it's a bit like making a snide comment online without the ability to delete it after.
but when penelope has hope, she is kind. she writes of the promising ladies of the ton and wishes them well with their matches, when she has hope she speaks positively of would-be spinsters and their successful marriages. many of her earlier musings in previous seasons were to call the women of the ton beautiful, to speak to their skills.
but hope for penelope does not last long. she manages to successfully speak to one suitor at the next ball (which, though this is another argument entirely, is backed by a string quartet version of "jealous" as colin re-approaches her at the drinks table — any arguments that his feelings start at their kiss isn't paying near enough attention) but the entirely true rumor about her having help from him spreads through the vine and penelope is hopeless once more.
and a hopeless penelope is a cruel penelope, as we've seen, and this time, she turns that cruelty inward, publicly. while she later says it would have been suspicious if lady whistledown hadn't commented, in truth, she has proven time and time again that her emotions rule lady whistledown's writings. in that moment, eyes tearful, she was embarrassed and ashamed of herself, she decided to say so. she repeats the same sentiment to colin when he comes to visit her:
"in truth i brought this on myself. a sad, stupid girl who believed she might actually have a chance at love."
and here is where lady whistledown continues to be someone penelope sees as different to herself, because penelope doesn't see herself as a lady. not just for lack of title — she does not see herself as worthy of or requiring protection. to call back to antony's season one romance: "every woman is not afforded such gallant protection." "every woman is not a lady."
she says nothing of him bribing her maid to give them time alone. like most of the ton she doesn't think the time they spend alone together could be anything other than platonic, at least on his end. they spent extended time unchaperoned at the bridgerton house and not once did she speak on impropriety. he'd been alone with her in the previous season and even when they were caught no one had a thing to say about it. no one questions it because penelope is not recognized as desirable, not seen as needing this protection, not seen as a lady. she is seen, even by herself, as a spinster already.
when she asks colin for a kiss, she reassures him that she would ask nothing of him for it, she would not entrap him in a marriage citing impropriety, she doesn't even think about whether someone might see. she does not care in this moment if she is to be "ruined," she only wants to feel some illusion of intimacy, some imitation of being wanted. even her running back inside immediately after, and the subsequent conversation under the willow tree, are further proof that she doesn't believe he could have kissed her for any reason other than pity.
and, even after all she goes through with lord debling, she is still not the only object of his affections. the entire time she pursues him, cressida is there, hot on the trail, ready to sweep him away on a moment's notice. penelope writes of their dance that his choice of her is surprising. though her feelings for colin have not simply fluttered away once debling's shown interest, her possible engagement to debling is on a wavering tightrope. not once in this can she feel wholly at ease with lord debling, only afforded a bit of security once he asks her mother for her blessing. and amongst this, her mother still belittles her, saying she should not become greedy for wanting to marry someone who actually cares for her.
she asks lord debling if he might ever love her, in all the years of marriage they may have ahead, and he says probably not.
and when colin breaks up her proposal, insisting debling isn't right for her, still penelope does not even consider, can not even conceptualize that it might be done out of jealousy. colin having feelings for her is laughable, she says as much, and it is the same thing she has been told over and over since the start. he chases after her carriage out of breath asks to be let in, gets on his knees and tells her he can't stop dreaming of her and she tells him "please. do not say things you do not mean." she cannot imagine that any of this is real. it is confusion that prompts her to repeat the agreement they had in episode one, "but, colin, we are friends."
and while an entirely separate essay could be written about the rest of the carriage scene, it is what happens the moment the carriage arrives at bridgerton house that stands out to me. they have this moment, colin asks "could the carriage driver not keep on driving?" and they both laugh, the way they always do with one another, and he fixes her dress (carefully, avoiding using a select few fingers as he does so) and they kiss again, and he gets out of the carriage.
and for a single, heartbreaking second, penelope's face falls, and she calls after him: "colin?"
it is so clear in her demeanor that she thought that was it; that's all she gets. the fantasy is over and it is back to reality. for a split second, she believes he is no longer hers.
for a single second, it's as though she thinks he is going to shut the carriage door on her, and walk away.
but he turns around, hand outstretched, asking if she'd like to come in. and she's once again confused, "what?"
do not say things you do not mean. do not mock me please.
and when he says: "for god's sake, penelope featherington, are you going to marry me or not?"
she looks so relived she could cry.
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babymochibeargyu · 3 days
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Gyu's Melancholy Serenade
POV:Gyu was an idol, you were his producer
wc:~3.3k
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★🎸🎧⋆。 °⋆─ listen to Birds of a Feather by Billie Eilish
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You've been working with TXT for quite some time now. Ever since the start of debut, you've watched them grow from boys to men, while at the same time also growing with them in the process. You were around the same age group as them, just a little bit older. 
You don't know how it happened, but the stars aligned for you. You knew that you've always wanted to be in the music industry and you’ve been working on your craft ever since high school. 
You had a family friend, who is in the industry who had heard a few of your works before. One thing led to another, and here you were under the company, producing for Tomorrow x Together. 
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Initially, when you first started working with the boys, there were challenges of course. Y’all were fairly new to all this. Communicating the vision of how the album should sound like. The way that they should sing to get a certain tone or emotion to convey feelings(with the help of a vocal producer). Yet, despite the hurdles, their unwavering determination always drives you to do your best. They were like your light in the darkness.
Company policies also dictated a professional boundary between producers and artists, restricting interactions outside the recording studio. 
It wasn't like TXT was trying to be rude. When they saw you outside of the recording studio, no interactions were allowed to be made, which made you feel restricted and dehumanized at times, but such rules were unfortunately commonplace in the K-pop industry, where scandals lurked at every corner.
However, when you were on the other side of the recording studio, and it was time for the boys to record, it was like all the negative energy that you got from the company rules was washed away.
Their excitement to sing always made you forget that there was anything bad to start with. They always had a smile on their face, beaming at you in the recording booth, never failed to keep you going, this was enough. 
You weren’t expecting anything but to your surprise, one member didn't care much about the rules. When y'all would walk past each other during office hours, he would still treat you the same as how he would treat you in the recording booth. He would greet you with a half bow (because you were still older than him), smiling until his dimples showed, with eyes that were as clear as the night sky. 
Over time, the company realized the interaction that you and Gyu had, but they didn't do anything about it and let you guys be. You guessed it was just a rule that had to be implemented for everyone since at that point, they were still in their early years of debut. 
But once things started to get settled, you realized that TXT would begin to greet everyone whenever they saw people they worked with before, which included you. 
Since Gyu was the first member who didn't treat you differently despite the rule, you've always felt a certain bias towards him. And over the years, because of the love of music, you guys would usually have discussions on song ideas as Gyu also wanted to compose and produce music for the team. Therefore you guys had a common interest to talk about. 
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As TXT's popularity grew, more albums were also in the lineup of being recorded. Recently, while they were recording for their new album Minisode 3: Tomorrow, they were also preparing for their world tour Act Promise. 
You were actually kind of getting worried for them as when they would enter the recording booth, they wouldn't be in their best condition. Even though they weren't well they still had no choice but to finish the recording, and if on that day of recording, they had tried their best but weren't able to get the sound that was wanted in the album, they would have to come back the next day to hopefully finish it up.
You felt so bad, seeing them being overworked and tired in the recording booths even though they tried not to show it. Always putting a smile on their faces, pretending everything was alright when it wasn’t. They were getting overworked and they needed rest stat! 
You were especially worried for Gyu, as you saw that he was struggling more compared to when he did for the last album. He wasn't in his best condition and the notes that he had to hit weren't his usual range either. 
Whenever you had to stop him to tell him which parts he had to re-record, you could see him listening attentively to your instructions but you could see the pain in his eyes. 
He was blaming himself on the other side of the recording booth, in his head. Knowing that he could do it, but because of him being unwell, he wasn't able to perform as well as he wanted to. 
You could understand his pain because it can be frustrating when you know what you are supposed to do for the task at hand but aren't able to complete it. 
A short break wouldn't hurt anyone, right? When someone is ever feeling down, you shouldn't press on the matter further and should do anything you can to take your mind off it. 
So you told Gyu to rest for a while, and that you were going to the toilet. But in fact, you went down to the company's cafeteria to get a drink for him that would help with his throat and some strawberries as you knew that he loved them. 
When you came back, you saw that Gyu was waiting for you at your side of the recording studio. He was surprised, to say the least when he saw you back in the booth with one drink and strawberries in your hand. 
One drink? For both of us? He thought. 
"Here Gyu, here's something for your throat 'cause I know you aren't feeling that well now, and some strawberries because I know you love them." 
Gyu was touched. He was working so hard that he had neglected his health and now, here you were, taking care of him. 
"Thank you, but you didn't need to do this."
"It isn't much but I wanted to. I felt bad, seeing you being tired yet you still have to record until you get it right. It's the least I can do, and the only thing I can do within my means. It's not much but I hope you can accept it." you replied. 
With that, he accepted your kind gesture and finished the strawberries. He then went back into the recording booth with the drink that you gave him to soothe his throat, taking sips as and when he felt that his throat was acting up. 
“Remember not to stress so much about finishing the recording today alright? There’s always tomorrow and the day after that. Let’s just do what we can for today.” You said through the talkback. And showed Gyu a hwaiting action, encouraging him that he got this.
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“Okay I think we should stop here for today, I don’t want you to strain your voice any more than you already did. Drink lots of water and get lots of rest! See you tomorrow!” You said to Gyu.
“See you Noona, and thank you for the strawberries and the drink, I appreciated it a lot.” 
“Anytime Gyu.”
That day, Gyu went back to the dorms having a lot on his mind. He was thinking of ways on how he could recover quicker to not disappoint you in tomorrow’s session, whether he should go to bed immediately without having dinner, and the fact that you were so caring towards him today, getting him strawberries and a drink for his throat. 
Did you do the same for the rest of the members? Or was that only for him? 
Gyu didn’t know when it started but maybe it was because you guys had sometimes spent time with each other discussing song ideas. During those discussions, he always felt a peace of mind, comfortable in your presence, being himself without a care in the world, because he knew that you wouldn’t judge him for anything.
He loved spending his time talking with you despite his busy schedule. The way your eyes sparkled when you were talking about things that interest you. Your endless rambling about how a certain sound would sound great with the member's voices, or a type of genre that they could try in the future. He could listen to you talk forever.
He loved the idea of being with you, even though it wasn’t possible. Just spending time with you like this is enough for him at this moment. 
And that’s all that mattered.
When the rest of the members came back, he had to do a little interrogation session with them, to see whether you also gave them the same treatment you had given him.
Needless to say, a love sick smiling Gyu was left after he found out that the special treatment he received from you was only for him. And also found out that you had sent the members home early so that they could get more rest and come back the next day to record instead. 
How could anyone get more kind, pure, and innocent than you? You were the treasure that everyone was seeking but he was glad that he discovered you first. 
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Thanks to your quick decision-making in letting the members have more rest the previous day, the recording session went through like a breeze. The members thanked you and left once they had finished their sessions. Gyu was the last member to record and once he was done, you gave him praises and words of encouragement that he sounded so much better today compared to the previous day. 
As you were about to wrap up the session, shutting down the computer, you saw that Gyu was trying to say something through the microphone. So you unmuted him and spoke through the talkback mic. 
"Could you repeat what you just said Gyu? I wasn't able to hear you just now." 
After you said that, embarrassment washed over him like a sudden tide, tinting his cheeks with a flush as he reluctantly repeated his words.
"Since Noona treated me to some snacks and gave me a drink for my throat, I wanted to repay you for your kindness. Would you like to have lunch with me? I know it's not much but I want to treat Noona to something nice too." 
"Ah, I couldn't do that, you're already busy as it is, you don't have to repay me Gyu, I did that because I wanted to and I didn't expect anything in return." 
Stop because how selfless and perfect could you get? Gyu thought to himself. It was undeniably noticeable but Gyu was falling for you more than he already had. 
"Oh, you don't have to worry about that. I've already checked with my manager and my next schedule is practice at 6 pm so I have time." you could hear the smile behind his voice. 
"Hmm alright then, let me pack up and I'll meet you in the hallway," you replied Gyu. 
He immediately took off the headphones in excitement and exited the recording booth. Gyu was nervouscited(nervous x excited)to say the least, he didn't think you would agree to it, but you did in the end. 
You could only laugh at his actions, because you thought could a lunch date make someone that happy? 
Wait, lunch date? What were your thoughts even saying? 
This isn't a lunch date, it's just Gyu's gesture of repaying your kindness, you told yourself. You didn't want to get excited over something that couldn't even be bound to happen. 
It was sad that you guys felt the same way for each other(but you both didn't know it), but he was an idol and you were a producer. Nothing could happen, right?
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"So Gyu what would you like to have?" you asked when y'all were in front of the dessert bar at the company.
"Wait Noona, I'm supposed to be treating you," Gyu said in a confused tone.
"Oh right, my bad." Maybe it was because he was 3 years younger than you but you'd always looked out for him. So you guessed you said it out of habit. 
"Hm, I think I'll get the choco cake then, it's been a while since I had even had choco cake anyways." 
"We will get one choco cake and one strawberry cake please," Gyu told the cashier and headed to a table with your desserts. 
Y'all were talking about random things. Gyu was rambling to you about funny events that happened in the team and it made you feel like you were friends.
"Noona, I also had an idea for an upcoming project that I wanted to do. I was thinking of recording a cover of Sukidakara for the fans. I think they would love it."Gyu said in excitement. 
"Oh that would be nice, we can schedule a recording in maybe 1-2 weeks? When your schedule isn't that packed? Don't want you to be overworking yourself Gyu."
"Yes, that would be great! I can't wait to work with you again Noona, I always have an enjoyable time with you."
A gentle fluttering sensation stirred within you every time he called you Noona. When the other members called you Noona, it didn't affect you one bit. Yet, with Gyu, his voice held a sweetness that seemed to wrap around you like a warm embrace, filling every word with a gentle affection that melted your heart.
You didn't want to admit it but you were clearly in love with him. You just wanted to scream because you knew that you shouldn't be feeling this way, especially for him. It was something that couldn't happen. 
After you said your goodbyes to Gyu, you mentally told yourself that you needed to draw a line, you couldn't let this feeling grow any more than it already had. 
While Gyu on the other hand, felt like he was floating on clouds. During practice, the members thought that there was something wrong with him because he would usually be loud, but that day, they didn't hear a single noise from him. All he could think about was the time you guys would meet again in 1-2 weeks. 
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The time came for the recording of Gyu's cover of Sukidakara. Usually in recordings, you would have the lyrics sheet beside you as well, so that you could communicate with the singer. 
But since this song was in Japanese, you had the Romanization and the English lyrics for it, which you had read through and you thought it was an adorable song. 
Gyu was in great condition today. You guys went through recording Verses 1 and the chorus easily. But while recording the 2nd verse, there was a line that said :
'I don't like you because you're cute. You're cute because I like you'
When you first read through that you didn't think much about it. But when you were recording Gyu, there was a moment of eye contact that happened between you two. Heat ran through both of your cheeks when that happened. Because in that moment, it felt that he was singing those words for you. 
The way that you had to try your best and keep your composure, as you mentally told yourself that no more feelings should grow.
Guess it wasn't that effective, because throughout the entire recording after that incident, all you could think about was that moment. 
When the session was over, you asked Gyu to come over to your side of the recording booth, which he quickly did. 
"Gyu you were in great condition. You managed to record so quickly today while still conveying the emotions needed." 
"What can I say, I have 5 years' worth of experience, of course, this would be easy." There was a subtle smirk in his voice, he knew he did well.
"It was amazing Gyu. I hope your fans love it as much as I did."
"You did?"Gyu asked. 
"Yes! The way you sang in Japanese gave me chills. It sounded like you were native."
If you stood any closer to Gyu, you would have been able to hear his heart, because it was pounding like crazy. He always felt a certain way whenever he heard compliments from you, a feeling that lifted his spirits and filled him with joy.
"Well, I guess, that's it. We can finally go home!" you said. 
But when you said that, you saw that Gyu's face changed. He wanted to stay with you a little longer. He didn't want this moment to end. 
"Weird, aren't you supposed to be happy that you get to go home early?" you accidentally said out loud. 
"Well yeah, but I want to spend more time with you Noona. I always enjoy my time with you. You make me feel so happy and fuzzy inside."
'Ok, what in the world was happening right now? Is this even real? Why was the Choi Beomgyu from Tomorrow X Together saying all these to you? Was this a confession?'
"Wait Gyu, why are you even saying all these?" 
A sigh escaped him.
"The only time I can see Noona is when we are recording for a new album, and that isn't frequent. And now that we are about to go on tour, I won't even be able to see you for a few months. And I don't want to make any more excuses, because honestly, I'm running out of excuses just to come and spend time with you."
"So what I'm trying to say is that I have feelings for you Noona. I know that I shouldn't but, you can't help who you fall in love with, and that person for me, is you." Gyu said, his voice tinged with sorrow.
Someone come and pinch you right now. This cannot be happening. You were trying so hard to put a stop to your feelings. But Gyu is now, right in front of you telling you that he has feelings for you too. This can't be real.
"Gyu you know we can't."
"We can, but maybe just in secret. I think my manager would freak out on me if I mentioned anything about dating with the tour coming up."
Gyu paused before saying, "I really can't help myself. I think about you more than I should. Like what you are up to, whether you have already taken your meals. How I want to text you and ask how your day was like and to tell you all about mine." 
Well from what you could see, Gyu was clearly as in love with you as you were with him. And how could you say no to him? Him saying all this in pout with his boba eyes. You were so weak for him. 
"Hm, I guess we can give it a try... but if anyone suspects anything I am running the other way," you said jokingly. 
"We can both run and elope together. Kidding. I'll make sure that no one finds out. I'm good at keeping secrets anyway."
"I'll text you later tonight okay Noona? I like you so much." with that he kissed you on the cheek and went out of the recording studio first, leaving you in a daze. 
What is your life right now? You just got a secret boyfriend who was none other than Choi Beomgyu. No one wake you up from this perfect dream.
"Ding" a notification from your phone interrupted your thoughts.
'It's not a dream xoxo' you saw who it was from, Gyu. Was he a mind reader now? How did he know?
Maybe an idol x producer could work out after all.  
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masterlist
This was so cute to write. Just thinking about idol Gyu x producer having an unforbidden love 🥹. just had to write about it!! Hope you guys enjoyed this one too! If you did please give it a like and follow me for more fics. Hehe see you guys in the next one🥹🫶🏻🤍
taglist - @moagyuu @heyanonymous123 @yelshin
© babymochibeargyu - all rights reserved. please do not copy/repost/translate
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rmbunnie · 8 months
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Watched through adventure time start to finish for the first time and of course it was great and of course I'm going to be drawing fanart at some point in the not-distant future (can't say near tho lmao school is keeping me busy) but my god the finale. I already knew the plot points tbh because i Am Online and Like Cartoons and if both of those things are things you are, you see the bubbline kiss and Finn saying "I always thought i'd go out a hero" and that's pretty much unavoidable, but what really got me was Time Adventure.
I saw someone on Twitter or something, maybe on here, say that the antagonist of Adventure Time is personal stagnation, and it was a comeback to someone else, but it really is true that from season 7 on the show starts leaning Realllllly hard into Growth as the topic the show's about (and season 7 is like. a pretty noticeable line for this switch tbh, NOT that the first 6 seasons are unimportant to the final end point, but the change is visible.) This is especially clear seeing as Gumbald and Fern, who refuse to accept growth and change to a unique extent, and are incapable of personal growth due to being an outgrown past version of the mc held that way indefinitely by a grass curse, respectively, are the main antagonistic forces of the final season. (Betty also counts as both an antagonistic force in the finale and unable to accept growth to me seeing as she was the reason Golb was summoned and, I mean, Temple of Mars is ABOUT her being unable to grow on an internal-beliefs level despite accepting the magic of the future as an external tool, so that checks both boxes, but i'm not sure of the overall Betty opinion and also she isn't the main point.) What I'm getting at is, with the major emphasis on changing as an individual, Time Adventure is especially poignant to me, because outside of being a (still very good) meta song about the show ending, in the context of the show it reads as a song about how sad growing as a person is when you're the person who's changing, and how it would be great if you could just. always be a 12 year old kid in the first season who doesn't understand that there are problems that can't be solved and fights you can't win, who can always go back to his treehouse at the end of the day. And how with the passage of time, it's inevitable to change, but at least that kid is and will forever be in season 1, even as the only physical version of himself from the past blows away in the wind as he asks to go back to a place that's now rubble. This isn't exactly breaking news but still, in a show that leans so hard into the way maturing means changing as a person the final message being "it's hard to be a new person and lots of things ARE lost forever but all past versions of you that you can no longer be exist in the past and aren't going anywhere" instead of like, "woohoo! Maturing is neat! Look at how much everything has improved!" is really good. Idk it just kinda means more really knowing that they're sad about the change.
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werewolfbneimitzvah · 29 days
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vent post. There are two stories i was told in my teenage years that even before i had a real concept of trans issues made me uninterested in discussing the supposed sacredness and safety of separated sex-based spaces.
First, when i was like 13 or 14 my PE teacher told us about a time she went to a women's public restroom, some guy was hanging out outside the bathrooms, she didn't think anything of it, went to the bathroom, and he walked in after her and like, creeped on her over the top of the stall. She was ok, she wasn't telling us this to scare us, just telling us what to do in situations like that (and iirc she was telling the whole co-ed class this, not just girls, bc it's useful for everyone), but this taught me immediately and forever that there's nothing actually keeping these spaces separate really, that anyone can be a creep in any space, and that establishing a space like that as for women only isn't actually particularly useful for safety.
Second, when i was 16 i was at an anime convention, a friendly acquaintance of mine and i ended up in conversation outside, and he showed me his bare wrist and told me he'd been kicked out. A female friend of his had stepped in dog poop outside, and between that and the stress of the convention she'd had a bit of an emotional breakdown, so being her friend, he started comforting her and ushered her into the women's restroom so they could wash the poop off her shoe together. And because he was a man who went into the women's bathroom, he got kicked out, no matter that he was doing something that was actually beneficial to a woman. Punishing a woman's friend for supporting her was supposed to... protect her somehow? This made it clear to me that a no-exceptions rule separating the sexes like that wasn't actually inherently good for everyone.
And this isn't even getting into me as a child needing to accompany my younger sister to the restroom when we were out with just my dad because she had certain support needs past the age he felt comfortable bringing her into the men's room with him. And what if I'd been born a boy, or she'd been the first born? Who's helping her then?
And of course even putting all this aside, we should always prioritize compassion and support anyway. But i never even needed to meet a trans person to know that "keeping men out of women's bathrooms" is silly nonsense. But trans people also need to pee anyway and as humans they have that right, so leave them the fuck alone. your precious women's restroom is just a fucking room with a door, holy shit give it a fucking rest, if someone is attacking you in the bathroom that's bad and if someone is in there to pee that's good and it doesn't fucking matter what their junk is or was when they were born.
a woman could have done the exact same thing to my PE teacher and it would have also been bad no matter how "supposed" to be in the restroom she was, and no one should ever be punished for helping a crying friend wash their shoe.
Anyway i know I'm speaking to like-minded folks here, i just think about those two stories literally every time bathroom gender shit comes up and it pisses me off.
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mariocki · 8 months
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Ian Hendry guest stars as a mafia don with a secret, as Alessandro Destamio in The Saint two parter Vendetta for the Saint (6.15/6.16, ITC, 1969)
#fave spotting#ian hendry#the saint#the avengers#vendetta for the saint#1969#itc#classic tv#Hendry had of course made his name on tv at the start of the decade‚ with Police Surgeon and then The Avengers#he left the latter to embark on a film career and had some success as a leading man in the uk but never broke through#internationally and as the decade wore on he found himself taking character support roles and drifting back into tv#Hendry wasn't even 40 at this point but looked older sadly‚ a result of his increasing alcoholism which would only worsen over the next few#years and through the breakup of his marriage to Janet Munro. he's very good here tho‚ very much the opposite of Ken Warren in the other#Saint two parter The Fiction Makers; Warren's character is comic book villain‚ larger than life‚ charmingly crazy and threatening lasers#on everyone. Alessandro is a villain very much rooted in the real world; he's dangerous and cruel‚ and controlling of women (and it's#heavily implied physically abusive towards his lover). he's a bad man who exists in the real world as much as in the Saint's world and#Hendry plays him as such; there's a wonderful scene in which he visits the home of an old lady with whom he has years ago made#a mutually beneficial arrangement‚ but whom he now suspects may be harbouring Simon Templar. he's charming and polite and#talks like an old friend but the delivery is deliberately icy and there is a very clear under current of 'i will not hesitate to kill you#if i deem it necessary'. it's a very strong performance from an actor who was brilliant when he was at his best‚ but who sadly was#not always at his best
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perlelune · 4 months
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NDA | Coriolanus Snow
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When you get hired as a nanny for President Snow and his wife's firstborn, you’re beyond thrilled and grateful. But quickly, the perfect facade melts, revealing the ugly truth of what actually goes on in the Snows' house.
Warnings: NON-CON, Capitol! Reader, Innocent Reader, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Power Imbalance
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
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Your worried eyes track the frenzied glide of the woman’s quill over the notepad. You squint, hoping to discern some of the words she’s scrawling that way, but they are indiscernible…just like the stone-cold expression of the bespectacled woman on the other side of the desk.
She catches you trying to peek. Your heart jumps.
As her sharp green gaze zeroes in on you, you clear your throat and shift in your seat.
She puts her quill down and twines her fingers.
“So what do you think sets you apart  from the other applicants?”
You chew on your lip. When you arrived to offer your candidature this morning, you naively believed you’d be early. Instead, you were forced to join the tail end of the massive waiting line stretching far outside the Snows’ estate. It didn’t hit you before that moment, how prized the position is. Each of the women and girls you saw radiated excellent breeding and impeccable manners. Many probably attended the University and could double as a tutor if the need presents itself.
This isn’t your case. Your parents left you and your brother Laertes with nothing when they suddenly passed away in a rebel bombing. You couldn’t blame them. This wasn't the plan. Who plans on dying and leaving their two children to fend for themselves?
Still, you now have a list of bills the length of your arm coupled with a massive mortgage to pay every month. And as Laertes’ sole caretaker, you must ensure you can afford to send him to University once he completes his education in the Academy.
Circumstances denied you that chance. Despite being of university’s age, you couldn’t afford the cost of tuition and had to drop out as soon as you got accepted. You want better for your little brother.
So as soon as you heard the news that President Snow and First Lady Livia Cardew were in search of a nanny for their son Martius, you jumped on the opportunity to apply. You rose before the sun, rummaged through your mother’s closet to find her best dress, and hailed a car to come here.
It’s a long shot, of course. You’re not as polished and impressive as some of the other women. You’re also noticeably younger. But the wages promised alone compelled you to take a chance despite the odds being unfavorable.
Fiddling with your hands, you meet the woman’s impassive stare head-on.
“What sets me apart?” You mull over your answer. You could paint a false, august portrait of yourself, your skills and your accomplishments. Or try to at least.
But what would be the point of pretending to be someone you’re not only to be found out later on? So you elect to tread the path of honesty.
“Nothing,” you say. “But I’m a hard worker. A very hard worker. In fact, I already have three jobs, one at a bakery, another as a clerk in an antique shop and I assist Fabricia Whatnot at her boutique sometimes.” Panic quivers inside you as the woman quickly jots something down on her notepad. You swiftly specify, “...But I’ll quit all of them if I get the position, of course.” You lick your lips as knots tie your stomach. “I can learn everything there is to learn on the spot. I love children, and…” You trail off, gaze traveling to your lap as you muse if you should reveal more. Your fists clench as you add, “I have a little brother who’s a few years older than Martius, and I’m really hoping I get this opportunity so I can give him the life he deserves.”
An unnerving quiet occupies the air. The wait is agony, your nails digging painfully into your palms. The jagged drumming of your heart bleeds inside your ears as she studies you.
Eventually, she leans back in the velvet chair, her face betraying no thought or emotion.
“You’re dismissed,” she says.
Your heart plummets to your feet. You shakily rise, dispirited as you drag your heels towards the door. You steal a glance above your shoulder. The woman’s attention has already drifted away from you as she shouts for the next applicant.
You sourly exit the office. You try to swallow your dejection as you note how many women are still waiting in line, each of them likely more qualified and experienced. It’s obvious you tanked the interview. Shoulders slumping, you take resigned steps through the elegant, palatial hallways of the Snow’s mansion. You get lost in admiring the crystal and gold chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. There isn’t an inch of the house that doesn’t scream excessive, unattainable wealth.
You take your time soaking it in. Chances are you’ll never step foot in such a place in your lifetime ever again.
Distracted, you don’t notice the person in front of you before it’s too late. You bump straight into a hard, inflexible body. 
The sudden collision threatens your balance.
Fingers coil around your wrists as you stagger back, preventing your impending collapse onto the marbled floor.
As your attention drifts skywards, your jaw drops at who fills your vision.
“P-President Snow, my deepest apologies, s-sir,” you stammer, flames licking your cheeks.
As if you didn’t make yourself look dimwitted enough before, you now carelessly crashed into the leader of all of Panem. Just when you thought the day couldn’t possibly get worse.
You take him in. It truly is him. Shock fills you. 
 Tall and dazzling in a crisp white shirt and crimson vest that hints at his lean physique beneath the clothes, his signature blond waves slicked away from his face, he looks every bit the important figure that he is.
The flickering TV screen you own at home doesn’t do him justice.
A gentle smirk unfurls on his lips.
“It’s quite alright. I’m not made of sugar,” he jests.
“No…you’re not, your highness…majesty...I mean sir.”
Your blunder expands his smile. His cerulean gaze drags over your frame.
“Are you here for the nursemaid position?”
“I am, sir.” You unleash a deep exhale, his inquiry tossing salt on the fresh wound. The interviewer clearly wasn’t impressed by your less than stellar performance. Maybe you should have tried to mimic the way the girls with whom you attended the Academy behave more. They carry themselves with such confidence, wading through the world with the certainty of their destinies being secure, bereft of hardships unlike district dwellers.
You envy how carefree they get to be. Everyday you wake up worried you’ll come up short on a bill and you and Laertes will be forced to leave your family home. No matter how diligent you are at work, there never seems to be enough money to sustain the two of you. Even with three jobs, you’re barely eking out a decent living for you and your little brother. Many times, you’ve gone to bed hungry just so Laertes would not.
You don’t even realize tears have filled your eyes to the brim until a handkerchief is daintily pressed into your cheeks.
Flabbergasted, you blink up at President Snow. 
“Thank you,” you exhale, stunned by his kind gesture.
“What’s the matter?” he asks.
You search his eyes. Genuine interest lights up his pellucid blue orbs.
Without much thought, you confess, “I just don’t think I did very well with my interview.”
As he scrutinizes you in silence, cocking his head sideways, embarrassment rushes through you.
Words anxiously leave your lips in a tremulous string.
“God, I’m so sorry, spilling my problems to you as if you’re not an extremely busy man, sir.”
He shakes his head. “It’s quite alright. And do not count yourself defeated, sweetheart.” Your pulse stutters when he bends over you to whisper, “You may have left a stronger impression than you think.”
He nudges the pocket square between your hands. It’s still damp with your tears. You gape at it in awe. President Snow’s initials are elegantly etched in the left corner of the fabric.
“Here. Keep it. Though I’d much prefer it if you didn’t cry.” He pauses, studying you. “Girls as lovely as you never should.”
His words send your heart into a frenzy. For a while, you’re too stunned to move. You then shake yourself back to reality, noticing you’re now staring at the empty space where he used to stand. He’s gone. You look ahead. He’s already miles away from you, wrapped in conversation with who seems to be an assistant of his. 
Your thumbs press against the soft fabric of the pocket square. Cheeks ablaze, you hold it to your nose. It smells like roses, the same delicate scent that wafted from him a few minutes ago. Your back prickles. You pivot and are astonished to find the envious glares of some of the applicants still waiting in line zeroed in on you. Self-conscious, you rush to continue your exit, fleeing away from the hateful stares. 
As the outside gates come into sight, you can’t suppress an elated smile. It’s not everyday someone meets President Snow and receives such a gift from him. Shoving the handkerchief in your pocket, you vow to place it somewhere safe and always cherish it. 
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When you return home, your brother’s already sitting in the living room, his tiny brows scrunched in concentration and his nose buried in his books. Your stomach sinks. Everything you did today was for him. You can’t help but feel you missed out on a huge opportunity, one that’d have changed the course of his life forever. You glance around at the apartment. The walls are crumbling. The wooden floors are creaking. The pipes in the kitchen have been leaking for weeks, a measly bucket you must empty every morning the only thing preventing a flood. And at night, the pitter-patter of rodents’ paws resonates from the ceiling.
Every inch of your family home is in dire need of repairs.
Unfortunately, every penny you earn goes into rent and food, meaning the house falls apart a bit more everyday. Perhaps one day, you and Laertes will awake beneath the rubble of what’s left of your childhood home. Nightmares of that sometimes keep you up at night.
“How was the Academy today?” you chime, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. Worry twists your chest. There isn’t much left. You’ll need to make do with cabbage and whatever other veggies are left. Perhaps you could toss in some leftover dried meat and make a stew.
“My teacher signed me up for advanced trigonometry,” your brother announces.
You close the cabinet and beam at him.
“Oh, that sounds hard. I’m proud of you.” It doesn’t exactly surprise you. Laertes’ always been exceptionally smart. Even his teachers noticed how gifted he is from an early age. Unlike you, he breezed through middle school and now the Academy.
It’s why it’s crucial you make sure he can go to the University. A mind like his shouldn’t be wasted.
You brother shrugs, exuding nonchalance.
“It’s fine.”
You rush to him. You wrap your arm around him playfully and hug him in his chair, pulling his cheek like when he was little. You know he hates when you do that but you can’t help teasing him a bit. It’s your duty as a big sister after all.
“Don’t downplay it. My little brother’s a genius.”
He wriggles his way out of the hug, rolling his eyes. 
“Stop it.”
You head back to the kitchen and fire the stove.
“I’ll make you something,” you say, smiling at your brother.
His brows knit. “Make something for yourself first.”
You nibble your bottom lip. You truly hoped he wouldn’t notice, how much smaller than his your portions are. But he’s growing; he needs it. Much more than you. Besides, how can he focus at the Academy and be the brilliant boy he is supposed to be with a growling stomach? You won’t allow it.
“Laertes…”
He shakes his head, his expression firm.
“No. You always do this. This time, we split whatever is left.”
Heaving out a resigned exhale, you nod. You whirl to resume preparing dinner.
You gather a boiling pot from the overhead cabinet and place it on the stove. With the ease of practice, you begin chopping vegetables and tossing them into the pot. You add spices and water. The mouthwatering aroma quickly fills the kitchen. Pride swells in your chest. Your cooking skills have improved so much in the last year since your parents passed. You now manage to bring flavor to the blandest of meals. 
Once the stew’s ready, you pour a portion in each bowl, putting just a little more in your brother’s and praying he will not notice.
You place the steaming bowls on the table and take a seat opposite him.
“No books at the dining table,” you admonish, mimicking the exact tone your mother used with your brother. Admitting defeat, Laertes sighs and sets his homework aside. The tiny victory tugs your lips skyward.
He tells you about his day at the Academy while the two of you eat. You’re delighted to hear he’s making a lot of friends and he’s at the top of his class for most science subjects. He’s struggling a bit more with his poetry and ethics classes, but you encourage him by reminding him he can just ask the teacher for extra assignments to keep his grade up.
“I interviewed for a new job today,” you reveal, stirring the spoon in your bowl while waiting for your brother to eat more of his food.
“How did it go?”
“Well, it pays really well so I’m hopeful.”
The hope dancing in his eyes makes your chest ache. You don’t have the heart to tell him you made a fool of yourself today. You may not be gifted like your brother, but you want him to know he can rely on you at least.
Pursing his mouth, he looks down at his stew.
“That’s great. It’d be good if you didn’t have to work as much.”
Your smile falters. “Don’t worry. I have everything under control.”
“Okay.”
His dour tone stirs your concern. You wish you were better at hiding things from him, making his childhood as normal as possible. But your brother’s twelve now, and that’s old enough to sense when things are wrong.
He rises from his seat. You frown as you note there’s still food left in his bowl.
“Finish your plate before going to your room.”
Annoyance pinches his features but he still picks up his bowl and hastily guzzles down the remainder of his stew.
“Happy now?” he says, wiping his mouth.
“Yes. Very,” you cheerfully respond.
He gathers his books and strides towards his room. 
Your voice rises.
“Don’t stay up too late to study, okay? I love you.”
“I…love you too,” he mumbles.
You bask in the moment as you clean the table. Thankfully Laertes is still at an age where he says it back. One day he might not. So you must cherish every instant. Every conversation, every hug, every ‘I love you’. Because it could all vanish in a second. You learned that the hard way a year ago.
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The day of the interview recedes to the back of your mind as you keep living your life. Work is harrowing, as usual, but you tend to your tasks as best as you can. Your arms ache as you knead the dough in the back of the bakery. You give yourself a second to wipe the sweat off your forehead. It’s been a hectic afternoon. There’s a massive pastry order for some Capitol heiress’ birthday due tomorrow. So you’ve been racing between the front desk and the kitchen in the back. A baker called in sick today, leaving you with twice the workload.
You know it won’t take much to crash into your bed and fall asleep tonight.
To make matters worse, the day hits its nadir when you get your pay that day. You peer inside the envelope for the umpteenth time. An anxious chuckle peals out of your lips. 
“I’m sorry I don’t want to complain, but…this doesn’t match the hours I put in.”
The owner scratches the back of his neck, a contrite expression etched on his face.
“I’m sorry too. With the new taxes imposed by the Capitol, I had to cut your salary.”
Slack-jawed by the news, no word leaves your mouth as you stare at him. He sighs.
“If it’s a problem, we can find someone else-”
“No, no,” you interrupt, blinking in panic. “Please, I need this job.”
He acquiesces and you’re forced to thank him despite feeling cheated. You actually scaled back your hours for your other part-times since this one paid more. What a waste. 
Dispirited, you return home. As you give the driver a bill for the fare, your insides wrench. Every bill counts. Perhaps you’ll need to walk back home from now on. The streets of the Capitol are notoriously dangerous but you can’t see any other way to save your dwindling wages. You already know you’ll need to request an extension for rent this month. How will you pay it, however?
You suppose you’ll have to figure it out. You always figure it out.
These are the somber thoughts swaying in your mind as you check the mailbox. 
Bills. Bills. And more bills. Your already sour mood plummets even more. But a slim, silver envelope sticking out from the pile corrals your focus. Curiosity surges inside you. It looks fancy and there’s a wax seal with the Capitol’s symbol keeping it shut. You rush to open it, heart fluttering in strange anticipation.
You unfold the neatly folded letter inside. As you read the words, you gasp, dropping the letter. Still trembling from shock and excitement, you bend to pick it up. 
You take a deep slow breath before reading it again. 
This time, a squeal escapes from your lips. 
You read it many more times to make sure your eyes aren’t just conjuring wild fantasies. 
After a while, you realize they aren’t. It’s true. 
Holding the letter to your chest, you toss yourself on your bed and kick your feet excitedly. 
You then place your palm on your forehead. In disbelief, you beam at the ceiling. 
Somehow…you’ve been hired to work for the Snows. You actually got the job. 
Perhaps there is light at the end of the tunnel.
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You fidget before the iron gates, smoothing absent wrinkles on your skirt. It’s one of the best outfits you could find on short notice that wasn’t moth-eaten or visibly overworn. You pray it’s enough. You let your gaze wander. The Snows’ estate truly is majestic. The lush gardens. The beautiful architecture. You feel a little small as you admire the mansion.
Remembering yourself, you pivot to the man who drove you there. You fish inside your pocket for a bill and hand it to him. He stares at you blankly from the driver’s seat.
A weary sigh ripples behind you.
You turn, your eyes widening. It’s the woman who interviewed you that day. She wears the same stern expression.
“You don’t need to pay him,” she explains, dismissing the man with her hand. He nods and drives away. “He’s your assigned driver. He’ll pick you up each day and take you back home.”
“Oh.” You offer your hand. “Nice to meet you…again.”
She gives you a lengthy onceover, completely ignoring your gesture. Then she motions at you to follow her. You let your hand fall to your side. Heat blooms in your cheeks. Perhaps, you were too enthusiastic just then. Straightening your spine, you try your best to keep pace with her quick strides.
“I’m Pandora. I supervise most housekeeping duties for the president. I’ll show you around the estate. Then you’ll meet the young Master.”
She gives you a tour of the mansion. You’re even more amazed than last time though you try to suppress your awe and not stare excessively. She shows you the garden as well. The sea of snow-white roses makes your head spin. She specifies that the only part of the house that is off-limits is the west wing of the mansion, as these are the First Lady’s apartments and she must have rest and quiet.
She ends the visit by taking you to the nursery. A smile spontaneously finds its way onto your lips. A toddler plays with his toy train on the floor. With his blonde curls and bright blue eyes, he bears a striking resemblance to his father.
“That’s him? He’s so cute,” you whisper. Even the stern woman’s expression thaws a little as she looks at the child, softening ever-so-slightly. You send her a questioning glance. She gives you a nod of approval. 
You approach the boy and crouch in front of him.
“Hi. You’re Martius, right?”
He lifts his head and beams at you. You’re immediately endeared. Again, his smile reminds you of President Snow. You suppose one could probably take over the world with a smile like that. 
You turn to Pandora.
“Is his mother around? I should probably introduce myself.”
Her face pinches. “Mistress Livia has been unwell as of late. She is not to be disturbed today as she is quite tired.”
“Of course.” Your lips squeeze shut for a few seconds but curiosity gets the better of you. A question burns on your lips, one that nagged you ever since you got the job. It slips out before you can think it through. “Is this…Is this why the president and his wife require a nanny? The First Lady is sick?”
Pandora glowers at you. You flinch as she steps further inside the room, her searing tone like a whip.
“You are here to do your job, and nothing else. Mistress Livia’s health is no concern of yours. Do you hear me?”
You rise on shaky feet. You forgot yourself.
“I-I understand. I’m sorry I asked.”
“This reminds me. You have to sign this,” she says, handing you a pen and clipboard. A thin stack of papers are attached to the clipboard. The front page spells ‘Non-Disclosure Agreement’ in bold letters at the very top. You scowl as you flip through the pages.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a contract, one signed by every one of the President’s employees.”
“I don’t understand most of what’s written here…”
A frustrated exhale peals from her lips.
“I’ll make it simple for you then. For the duration of your employment here, nothing you see or hear must ever leave this house. You are here to care for the young master, that is all. Nothing else should concern you. Is that clear enough?”
You swallow thickly. It doesn’t sound hard at all. Discretion is essential in every job, isn’t it? But the way Pandora makes it sound, you’d assume there are bodies buried beneath the Snows’ estate. You’d laugh if her death stare weren’t so disquieting.
You peruse the contract, perplexed by most of the legal mumbo jumbo filling the pages. None of it rings any bell. You understand the gist of it however. You must preserve the president and his wife’s privacy. While you don’t know the specifics of the first lady’s condition, her public appearances have been few and far between in the last few years.
She used to be the envy of every woman in the Capitol. Beautiful, young and married to the dashing President Snow.
She was a fairytale princess come to life.
Then their son Martius was born. And when they held him up from the balcony of their mansion for all of Panem to gaze upon, they truly seemed like the perfect family.
Until one day, Livia Cardew simply…vanished.
She was noticeably absent from all the events of the season, some she even hosted herself. Tongues wagged of course, rumors and wild theories spreading like wildfire. 
But no one knew the truth of what had happened to her.
The matter seems delicate. You promise yourself not to bring it up again.
You click the pen and scribble your name at the bottom of the very last page.
“I’ve…never signed a contract like that before starting a job.”
Pandora lets out a wry chuckle.
“Well, you’ve never worked for President Snow.”
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As promised, you quit your two other jobs to focus solely on Martius. You’re hesitant at first. Your departed parents taught you never to put all your eggs in one basket. And it’s exactly what you’d be doing by trusting the Snows. But when you receive your first paycheck, long before the end of the week, every qualm you had fades. It’s more money than you’ve ever had, more money than you expected. Rent isn’t an issue anymore. Neither is food.
Besides, gifts keep coming from the estate. Clothes mostly, for both you and Laertes, but also jewelry, perfume and other fancy things you don’t need. Overwhelmed by President Snow’s generosity, you try to send some of it back, but you don’t have the heart to return everything when you see your brother’s happy face when he opens his wardrobe one day.
You’ve caught the self-conscious glimpses he casts at his classmates sometimes, when not wearing the Academy uniform. Their clothes are always brand new and custom, perfectly tailored while his are stitched back together by your clumsy hands whenever they fray at the seams. You’re not a seamstress but you’ve always done your best. But you know your best doesn’t compare to the access and privilege those kids have.
Other than those blessings, your time with Martius has been a breeze. Only hazy memories of your brother as a toddler linger in your mind, but you don’t recall him ever being as sweet and calm as the little boy is.
It hardly feels like work, caring for the small child. You spend the day playing along with his games, reading stories to him and, as the day nears its end, the two of you feed the ducks in the massive pond behind the mansion. He even gives them names and gets upset when they fight with each other. 
“Lily doesn’t like James anymore,” he whispers to you one day, a sullen pout scrunching his tiny features. 
“And why is that?”
“I think she’s angry that he steals her food.”
You chuckle and ruffle his golden locks. The little boy always has a story for everything he sees. At all times, his world must make sense. So if he cannot find a reason to explain what fills his gaze, he’ll weave a tale that matches it. His stories are each more wild than the other and he sometimes utters words you’ve never heard a four year old use.
But you surmise it is expected from the son of the president. When he isn’t with you, the little boy is often with his private tutor. Even at his tender age, the importance of manners and eloquence is impressed upon him.
Martius tugs at your skirt when you make your way to the door. You look down. His blue eyes are pleading. 
“You’re leaving again?”
You heave out a long exhale. The little boy wasn’t so clingy before but with your bond growing, he’s been expressing more sadness from watching you go at the end of every day. 
You hunker down to his level.
“My little brother’s expecting me.”
His forehead puckers. “Stay…”
“I told you before, Martius. I have a brother. He’ll miss me if I’m not here.”
“Okay,” he mumbles, giving a begrudging nod. Tears already swim in his eyes though. Panic flows through you. You didn’t want to upset him. You pick him up and bounce with him in your arms to try to soothe him.
“Oh, no. Don’t cry, sweetie.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, nearly squeezing you to death when he wraps his arms around your neck. His loud, tearful sobs swell in the room. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow like always, okay? So I need you to be brave for me.” His grip on you loosens as he sniffles. You put him down and the two of you pinky promise that you’ll return. Your heart twists at the sight of his tear-stained little face. 
You give his hair one last affectionate pat before rushing outside. If you stay, he might throw another tantrum. No matter what, you can never get mad at Martius. He’s just a child. In the absence of his mother, he’s bound to grow attached to any woman filling a role adjacent to hers. You loathe that you’re taking those moments from the first lady. Though it pleases you to have a steady job and spend time with the sweet boy, it feels wrong that she isn’t there. She should get to see her baby grow up. She should hear his inane ramblings and eccentric stories.
As time wears on, you’re dying to meet her and tell her about Martius. Is she truly so sick that she can’t even see him for a mere few minutes? You’re itching to break the rules and visit the west wing of the mansion. Sometimes you hear blood-curdling  screams and wailing coming from the dark halls but you never dared venture through them. You know that if you did, Pandora would crucify you.
Laertes’ well-being matters more than your curiosity.
Humming absently, you halt in your tracks in the middle of a hallway. Confusion has you blinking. A peculiar noise bounces faintly against the walls. Your gaze drifts sideways, where the noise seems to come from. You’re clocking out. Whatever’s going on in the house isn’t any of your business at this hour.
But what if someone needs help? What if it’s something bad? You’d feel awful if you learnt something happened the next day and you pretended to ignore it. So you gingerly approach the wall. Your fingers graze the tapestry covering it. 
Your eyes widen when the wall moves, a tiny crack forming in it.
Your eyes bulge. It’s an ajar door, you realize. A secret door one wouldn’t notice if they weren’t aware it was there. Light spills from the slight opening.
Confining your breath, you bend over the crack in the wall to get a glimpse of what’s behind it. 
The vision crowding your sight makes the blood in your veins freeze. 
President Snow rutting into a maid with his pants down to his ankles. His usually neat blonde locks are tousled, a few damp curls kissing his forehead. His massive cock glistens with the girl’s essence, disappearing into the girl’s spread lips over and over again. Her body is bent over the railing of the bed and her maid outfit is bunched around her hips, exposing her ass, the flesh trembling with each of the president’s harsh, pointed thrust.
Each time he snaps his hips he draws a broken moan from her. One of his hands is around the back of her throat while the other’s on the small of her back. He grunts low in his throat as she clenches around him, thrusting into her even faster than before. 
The obscene sound of their coupling rises, coalescing with the feral grunts spilling from the president’s mouth. In that moment, he’s not the poised gentleman you’re used to seeing, he is an animal in rut chasing his high.
A shocked exhale escapes your lips. Your hand flies to cover your mouth. President Snow’s head snaps up, his gaze landing straight on you.
Your heart slams against your ribcage.
You jump back from the door and push the secret door closed. You dart across the hallway, determined to find the exit as quickly as you can. You don’t glance back, your steps hasty and panicked. 
Pandora was right. It’s best not not to hear or see anything, to become a tomb in which secrets are buried.
You can only hope he didn’t recognize you through the tiny crack in the door. 
Though you’re shaken to your core, you continue your work as a nanny. You still need money. You may have set aside everything you made thus far, but it will only sustain you and your brother for a month or two. Besides, you’ve already handed in your resignation for your other jobs.  The positions have likely been filled. You can’t exactly show up out of the blue and ask for your former job back. 
No. So you convince yourself that it’s alright. You have a good thing going anyway. You’re making more than you hoped. The child is happy. You’re happy. All is well. Or it would be at least.
…If you could conjure the memory of President Snow railing into the maid far away from your mind. 
You want to forget it, bury the moment so deep in the abyss of your thoughts, it can never be unearthed.
But it isn’t so easy. Because every time your mind wanders even a little, you see him again. Skin glistening with sweat and blue eyes alight with lust. The image is tattooed into your brain. 
You wonder if the first lady knows. Perhaps it’s why she’s hiding away. The weight of her husband’s indiscretions may have grown too heavy to carry. It sours your heart. President Snow seemed so kind, good and noble. He was nice to you. You still have the breast pocket he gave you tucked away in a drawer. You loathe to think he’d do that to his wife. No woman deserves this.
You lift your head when your name is uttered. You get to your feet. Adrift in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Pandora was in the nursery. 
“Yes?”
“The president wants to see you in his office.”
Dread wrenches your gut. It’s exactly what you feared. Does he know? Did he see you? Your pulse picks up. What other reason would there be? He never summoned you before.
“Really, why?”
“He didn’t say, but I’m assuming it’s to congratulate you.”
Befuddlement wrinkles your forehead. “Congratulate me?”
Pandora heaves out a weary sigh. “Well, you’ve done much better than we thought,” she begrudgingly admits. “The young master smiles all the time.” She rolls her eyes. “Even if we must deal with his tantrums when you leave.”
A sliver of pride flutters through you with her admission. Pandora made her doubts about your capabilities plain and obvious from the beginning. It gladdens you that you may have changed her mind a little. 
“I’m sorry.” 
“It’s fine.” She turns to him, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “It’s a small price to pay for his happiness.”
Your smile vanishes as she adds, “Now let me escort you to the president’s office. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you trail behind her. The entire trek to the president’s office, your stomach’s in knots. You keep wondering if it’s the day you’ll lose your job for being too nosy. You should have walked past the noise. You shouldn’t have peeked. 
You inhale a lungful of nerve as Pandora opens the door to his office and frees room for you to enter. Your clammy hands wrench in your lap. He’s sitting behind his desk. You stagger further inside the room as he motions for you to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. He looks the same as the first time you stumbled into him, disarmingly handsome in an impeccable shirt and pants that flatter his long legs.
A sharp contrast to the version of him that has plagued your thoughts lately. 
His sky gaze follows you as you take a trembling seat.
“Are you settling in well?” he asks.
“Hm, yes,” you stammer, anxiously twining your fingers. “It’s pretty much the perfect job. I get to be around a cute child all day.”
“I hear my son is very fond of you.”
You bashfully dip your head. “He’s very easy to like. He’s such a good boy, sweet, kind, and curious. You and your wife are raising him well, sir.”
He hums in thought. “I can’t take much credit for that. I’ve tried my best to carve out time for Martius…but work’s kept me busy. As for Livia...” He lets out a humorless chuckle. “Well she isn’t quite herself these days.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He places one hand under his chin, scrutinizing you. You try not to twitch beneath his stare, your insides tight with dread.
“Hm, it’s strange,” he states after a minute that goes by like an eternity.
Your head rises. “What’s strange?”
“A girl like you.” His lips drag upward. “Sweet, nurturing, beautiful. Shouldn’t you be married already?”
Your lips part in astonishment. This isn’t the line of questioning you expected. “I-I’m not.”
“No fiancé?”
“No, sir.”
“A lover then?”
Warmth rushes to your face.
“No…”
He laughs, mirth dancing in his cobalt orbs.
“You must pardon me for being so forward but I simply find it astonishing. No suitors? It’s hard to believe since you’re so lovely, sweetheart.” He tilts his head. You shift in discomfort, his attention making you feel see-through. “I mean, a husband would have made your life easier than it’s been thus far, wouldn’t he, dove?”
A long exhale flows from your lips. “I’ve had offers, after I graduated from the Academy. There was even this boy, he was so kind to me.” The memory draws a small smile from you. “He proposed. I’m sure he’d make a great husband, but…”
“But…”
Your mouth dries.
“I know it’s probably naive and unrealistic but I want to marry for love, that great, life-changing love, like in those romance novels my mom used to love, not money or status.”
His eyes twinkle. “Or financial stability?”
Shame gathers in your chest. You know it sounds silly when uttered aloud. 
“I know, I’m an idiot.”
“No, you’re not. It’s sweet that you still believe in love.” He appears lost in a faraway memory, his gaze hazing over with remembrance. “I used to believe in it too. I used to think, ‘Who needs wealth and success and power when love conquers all?’”
He chuckles but it’s bereft of amusement. 
“Really? What happened then?”
His gaze locks with yours. 
“I grew up.”
Confused, you frown. 
“But aren’t you and the first lady in love?”
Another laugh bursts from his chest.
“God, you’re sweet.” His tone lowers to a dulcet whisper. “It’s like none of the world’s ugliness has gotten to you yet.” He reveals matter-of-factly, “My wife and I hate each other.” His smile widens at your flabbergasted expression. “Always did. It’s best that way, more…efficient. Of course, there was a time, when we had…passion.” He licks his lips, something you can’t pinpoint flickering in his gaze. “But not anymore. She’s far too gone for that.”
He rises from his chair. You stiffen as he circles the desk, making slow steps towards you. 
“Which is why I must…satiate my needs wherever I can,” he mumbles, fingers lurking under your chin, forcing your eyes to fall upon him. “Do you understand my meaning, dove?”
“I…yes.”
Discomfort flares within you. Tension hangs in the air, so heavy it clogs your airways. 
He cocks his head, lips slanting crookedly.
“Do you really? With that innocent look in your eyes, it’s hard to tell.” His thumb sweeps over your shuddering bottom lip. “Men have needs. And am I not a man, sweetheart?”
“Y-Yes you are, sir.”
He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “You saw everything that day, didn’t you?” Your heart stops.
Flames lick your face as you bow your head. “I-I didn’t see anything.”
His warm breath ghosts over your earshell.
“Liar,” he mumbles.
Your pulse quickens.
He leans back and nudges your chin upward.
“Since my wife fell sick, I’ve been very lonely. And sometimes…” He looms over you, crowding your space as you peer up at him, fingers squeezing the arms of the chair. “I need something soft and warm to forget that feeling.”
President Snow slowly falls to his knees in front of you. His fingers find your thigh, starting to creep under your skirt. A devilish glint sparkles in his cobalt gaze. He finds your center, pressing the sheer fabric into your folds. You gasp. He chuckles at your reaction. He starts teasing you through your panties, tracing your slit and dragging over your tender bud. Your breath hitches as the air around you grows hotter. You grow slick beneath his finger, your thighs shaking as tingles bloom on your flesh.
“Sir…” you whimper, tears welling up in your eyes.
He pushes further inside you, adding another finger, and you unleash an audible breath. You try to close your thighs. He places his other hand on your knee to keep you open for him.
The air in your lungs grows thinner as he rubs your core through your soaked panties. The friction is a delicious torture. Pleasure pools in your belly causing your face to burn with shame. You’re getting embarrassingly wet with President Snow’s attention.
“I just want a little taste,” he murmurs, his deep timbre bleeding lust. “Just one time and it’ll never happen again,” he promises fervently as his lips graze your ankle. You find some relief when his fingers disappear from your drenched center. But your respite is ephemeral. He slips his hands under your ass and tugs at your panties.
Panic widens your eyes. Cheeks ablaze, you pull at the material between your legs with both hands. But he’s stronger than you and effortlessly drags the fabric along your legs. A wicked smile plays on his lips as tears glisten in your eyes. It’s soon down to your ankles. You squeal when the president yanks the panties off your foot, tossing them aside. Cool air sneaks beneath your skirt, swirling over your bare folds.
Hands over your knees to keep you spread, his wolfish gaze sweeps over your glossy folds. 
Your skin heats, embarrassment gathering in your chest. You’ve never been this vulnerable and exposed in front of anybody before.
“Please, President Snow, s-stop…” 
“But you’re dripping, sweetheart,” he states smugly, sinking a finger inside your weeping core, as if to make a point. Your breath hitches. He takes his finger out sluggishly. You clench when he grazes one of your sensitive spots. “Just as sweet as I expected,” he hums, obscenely licking your essence off his long digit.
Without a warning, he buries his head between your thighs. A sharp exhale leaps from your mouth. His cool tongue traces a wet trail over your folds. President Snow traces maddening patterns over your swollen bud causing your eyes to roll back.
You card your fingers through his silken platinum locks, hoping to push his head away. But the delightful sensations grow too overwhelming. You unravel beneath his sinful ministrations, your limbs twitching as the thread of your thoughts comes loose.
Your grip on his hair weakens. Your belly tightens, your chest rising and falling rapidly. 
You jolt as his tongue flickers over your tender heap of nerves. 
“P-President…” 
He purrs against your folds and the vibrations rock through your core. You squirm in the chair. Your thighs quake. Your vision dims, your mind blank as waves of pleasure swaddle you in their tide. Protests scatter on your tongue, replaced by wanton whimpers and moans.
Electricity ripples through your spine as you cry out.
Bliss engulfs you and your legs turn liquid. Shame swirls in your gut as your juices coat his tongue. He drinks your nectar, elation rumbling in his chest. 
When he lifts his head, you hardly recognize him. The feral glow in his gaze chills your blood.
There is no time to collect yourself, realize what just occurred, as the blonde gathers your limp frame from the chair and places you on his desk. Documents and papers are flung to the ground as he grabs your thighs and presses his throbbing hard-on against your cunt. 
He hastily unbuttons his pants, freeing his hard length. He fists his cock and guides it through your wet entrance. Your back arches, the sudden intrusion robbing you of air. He reaches the hilt of you in a few seconds, giving you no time to accommodate his thick girth. You collapse over the desk, weak whimpers leaving you as your walls are stretched to their limit. He drags out of you, his pupils flaring as they trace the motion of his length in and out of you. Coriolanus leans over you. He snaps his pelvis into your hips, each of his thrusts tearing tearful moans from your throat.
When you turn your head, hot tears flowing down your cheeks, he grabs your chin so you’re forced to meet his lustful stare. Bracing himself on the desk, he reaches between your bodies to pinch your swollen clit. He plucks at your soft bud until you shatter around him with a sob. His throat bobs, a look of sheer bliss flitting across his face when you clench around him.
“I’ve been dying to fuck you the minute I saw you,” he confesses, trailing soft pecks over your collarbone. A sinister chuckle peals from his lips. “The way you looked at me with those sweet, innocent eyes…it made me rock-hard.” He tilts your chin towards him, his thumb skimming over your parted lips.
Satisfaction glimmers in his eyes as they flick over your prone form.
“You should thank me. Those boys at the Academy wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you…” His cock twitches inside you. Sticky warmth spills from him, painting your walls and dripping past your hole. Drops of his seed leak onto the desk. A throaty sigh pours from President Snow’s throat as your cunt flutters around him.
His teeth nip the skin of your neck.
“...But I do.”
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After what occurs in his office, you hope to avoid President Snow. Those hopes are swiftly dashed however. President Snow lied to you. It doesn’t happen once. In fact, you begin to lose count of the actual number.
Every time the president finds a little spare time, he summons you.
Sometimes you end up bent over the desk in his office as he pours the frustrations of the day into your warm hole. Sometimes he prefers you sprawled on your back in one of the multitude of luxurious beds in the mansion while he devours you as if you were his very last meal. And at times, he grows even more impatient and simply shoves you against a wall before ravaging you.
More than once, a maid or footman has walked in on the two of you, and you’ve had to swallow your shame and embarrassment.
As you’ve come to learn, the entire staff is aware of Coriolanus Snow’s insatiable appetite and none of them seems to care.
You feel sick, desperate, trapped in something twisted and awful you never signed up for.
But how does one say no to President Coriolanus Snow? The entire Capitol yields to his every whim. And you are the same. Here to bow and smile and lie back whenever he demands it.
You long to focus on your job, to care for Martius and nothing else. Whenever the boy looks up at you with those innocent blue eyes, eerily similar to his father’s, your stomach wrenches. You pray he never comes to learn what kind of man his father is. You wish he’d stay just as kind and sweet as he is now.
Those are the thoughts drifting through your mind as you watch Martius play with his toy trains. Your eyes wander towards the window. Outside, orange and purple hues are bleeding into the sky, the afternoon nearing its end. Your stomach coils. It’s during times like these that President Snow often seeks you out. You’ve tried to run away from him but it’s all a game to Coriolanus, and he always delights in chasing you through the hallways.
Your brows crumple as you note that Martius has stopped playing. He drops his toy and rushes to your side. Confounded by his behavior, you’re on the cusp of asking him what’s wrong…but your gaze follows what caught his attention on the other side of the room.
You fall silent, your eyes rounding in shock.
“Martius. Come here, my love,” says the blonde woman in a white robe and nightgown, her arms wide open.
Time stands still for a few seconds. It takes you a while to realize who stands before the door. She looks so different, more ghost than woman, her glassy blue eyes hollow and sunken. But her likeness is unmistakable. Even with her graying, limp tresses and ashen complexion, you recognize Livia Cardew. The president’s wife.
You bolt to your feet. Arms still open, Livia takes slow steps towards Martius.
“I’m your mom, sweetie. Don’t you remember me?”
The little boy’s fists clutch your skirt as he hides his face against your leg.
“You’re not my mom.”
A stricken look twists Livia’s features as she shrinks. As if her own son just drove a knife through her heart. Your chest twinges. While her abrupt appearance is a shock, you can’t imagine how she must feel. You place a hand on Martius’ back and try to nudge him forward.
“Martius. It’s the First Lady, your mother. Go on, hug her,” you urge softly.
He shakes his head, tears filling his eyes as he hides behind you even more.
You’re stunned. Has it truly been that long?
“Martius-”
You don’t get to finish your sentence, Livia lunging at you, her eyes wild with fury.
“You! This is all your fault,” she hisses. She points at you and scoffs, “You’re his new whore, aren’t you?” Her mouth wobbles as she grips her head. “First you take my husband, now my son.”
Martius begins to sob. His loud cries overlap with his mother’s frantic yelling. You cover his eyes, tossing Livia an apologetic look.
“First Lady, I never meant-”
Before you can explain yourself, she grabs a nearby vase and smashes it. White roses scatter on the floor. Stomping all over the petals and broken glass, she collects one of the shards and races towards you. Terror numbs you. You freeze as Livia aims the shard at you, scarlet droplets dripping on her nightgown as she squeezes her fist around the glass.
Your eyes shut as you wait for the inevitable strike.
You shiver, waiting still.
But it doesn’t come.
“Livia, darling, that’s enough. It’s time for you to sleep and take your medicine.”
The familiar sound of Coriolanus’ voice causes your eyes to snap open. 
You watch him restrain a struggling Livia. She curses at him, fighting him with all her might. It’s a painful spectacle. 
“No, don’t touch me!” Other staff members rush into the room. It takes several people to hold Livia down, colorful expletives pouring from her mouth as she punches and kicks whoever comes close. “You’re killing me! You bastard! Give me my son back! Martius! Martius!”
The child trembles against your skirt, his tear-filled gaze stuck to the floor.
Eventually someone manages to stick a needle into Livia’s neck. She instantly goes limp, arm still reaching for her son in her last conscious second.
“Take her away,” Coriolanus instructs.
The first lady’s flaccid form is dragged out of the room. Still shaken by what you just witnessed, you don’t move a muscle. President Snow approaches you, worry swimming in his blue orbs. 
“Are you alright, dove?” He cups your cheeks, his brows crumpling as his gaze settles on your neck. “I’ll have Doctor Gaul look at you. She has an ointment for that.” He caresses your cheeks, smiling. You gape at him. How can he smile at a time like that? “It won’t even scar. I promise.”
You graze your neck. Your fingers come away bloody. Oh. Livia nicked you with the shard but you didn’t even feel it. Perhaps adrenaline numbed you to the pain.
“Dada,” Martius chimes, lifting his chubby arms.
Coriolanus’ face warms as he picks up his son. He tosses him in the air and catches him. Martius giggles through his tears.
“My sweet boy. That was very scary, wasn’t it?” he says, balancing his son on his hip. Martius nods and wipes his nose. Coriolanus flicks his cheek, beaming at him. “Don’t worry, son. The scary lady won’t bother you anymore in a few months.”
A wave of ice blows through your veins. You wonder why the president uttered those words with such certainty. Like a promise. Or a prophecy. Almost as if he knows exactly when the grim reaper will come knock on his wife’s door.
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The next day, you hand over your resignation to Pandora. Her expression is skeptical as she gauges the manila folder you give her.
“This is for the president,” you announce.
She unleashes a deep exhale. “You should reconsider, sleep on it.”
You almost laugh. Sleep on it? You can hardly find rest, the picture of a disheveled Livia Cardew crying out for her son haunting your nights. Whatever befell upon the poor woman, you wouldn’t be surprised if her husband somehow had a hand in it. It broke your heart, seeing her like that, her own son unable to recognize her. You also despise the role Coriolanus forced you to play in erasing her memory.
All of it feels wrong. 
And most of all, you don’t want President Snow to use you to satisfy his lewd desires anymore. He took all your firsts, all the moments that should have been beautiful, and made them a nightmare you have to relive every time he touches you.
You respected him; you admired him. Now you can’t be in his presence without dread whispering through you. What will he make you do this time? How will he make you small and powerless again?
“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore. He can hire someone else to care for him.”
Pandora purses her lips and shakes her head.
“It’s really not that simple. The president has developed…a fondness for you.”
You bristle. “I have to go back home. Laertes is expecting me.”
“You won’t like what comes next, trust me.” Her gaze narrows. “No one leaves the president.”
Ignoring the shudder elicited by her daunting words, you pivot and make a beeline towards the exit. Pandora’s voice echoes down the hallways.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Depleted, you glumly make your way to the gates. You enter the car that takes you back home everyday. Your thoughts wander as the Snow’s house grows smaller through the car window. You were thrilled when you got this job. It felt like kismet after the year you and your brother had. A rainbow after the rain. A slice of hope.
How it all went to hell so quickly. You’re still reeling from it. You’ve no idea what you’ll do next. The only thing you know for certain is that you will not step foot into the Snows’ estate ever again.
The car suddenly halts. You bump your head into the passenger’s seat. Wincing, you grip the sides of your head. As you retrieve your senses, you look around. You stopped.
You toss a questioning look at the driver.
But before he can respond, the car door opens and you’re yanked outside. Two pairs of strong arms drag you away from the car.
You take in the blue uniforms of the men. Terror pulses through your blood.
Peacekeepers.
Noting the guns at their sides, you stop trying to resist. There’s no fighting against them, ever. They are the Capitol’s fist and carry the President’s will. You don’t stand a chance. In fact, you likely never did. You slump in their grip, despair thrumming inside you.
They escort you to a black car with tinted windows. Your pulse soars. You’ve only ever seen one individual step out of this car.
The peacekeepers toss you inside and slam the door shut.
Your fearful gaze rises to him.
He casually sits in front of you, his eyes narrowed.
“You disappoint me, dove.” He lets out a weary sigh. “After everything I’ve done for you…you try to leave me. I thought you were smarter than that.”
You twine your hands, sputtering, “I-I’m not the right person for this job, sir.”
He slides his fingers under your chin, tilting it upward.
“Oh but you’re perfect. My son loves you. You’re sweet, dutiful and most importantly…” He smirks. “You are mine. Mine to hold, spoil and fuck whenever I please for however long I please.”
The prospect fills you with dread. He wants you to be his toy again, submissive, available whenever he pleases.
“Sir…”
His jaw ticks, his hold on your jaw tightening.
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if your brother could attend the University, free of charge? A bright young mind such as his, I believe he deserves it.” His blue eyes twinkle. “Instead of, let’s say…end up in a District, his name chosen as a tribute in the next Hunger Games.” Your heart sinks to your feet. “That’d be awful, wouldn’t it? So cruel…” he mumbles, stroking your trembling bottom lip.
“No, please,” you beseech, tears swelling in your eyes. Your brother’s all you have left in the world. Nothing can happen to him. 
Coriolanus fondles your cheek, the tender gesture a sharp contrast to the wicked words rolling off his tongue.
“It’s all up to you, then, dove. As long as you behave, I’ll give you the world. But if you act like a little brat again…” A threat lurks in his soft tone, a glint of madness swaying in his cobalt orbs. “I really don’t know what I might do.”
Chills dance over your spine.
“I promise to never do it again,” you blurt out.
He pulls out a square from his breast pocket. It’s identical to the one he used the first time.
But a lifetime seems to have passed since that moment, the world now so different from what you imagined, and the man before you…even more so.
“Good girl,” he lauds while swiping away your tears. 
He shoves the pocket square back in its place. Coriolanus then beams at you as he starts unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his pants.
“Now, I’ve had a long, exhausting day. So how about you get on your knees for me and make it better with that sweet mouth of yours, dove?”
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writingouthere · 5 months
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neighbor!Sukuna x single mom!reader; your ceiling is leaking at 3 in the morning and you don't know what to do so you go ask for help from the man across the hallway(inspired by real life events that were not nearly so charming).
no need to have read the others in the series but can be read as a week or two after the aquarium date.
cw: Sukuna being a menace
Sukuna had always been a light sleeper so when there were knocks on his door at 3am, he was up instantly. The knocks weren't even loud but he found himself annoyed enough to stomp to the door. If he wasn't sleeping, the people below him didn't need to be either.
He yanked his door open, prepared to make whoever it was regret every moment of their existence but it was you, holding your daughter and clearly on the verge of tears.
You seemed contrite when you saw his expression but before you could even start to apologize, he was slipping on his boots and grabbing his key.
"What's wrong," he asked.
"It-it's the ceiling, I woke up and it was leaking water. It's getting everywhere and I don't know what to do and the landlord isn't picking up."
Sukuna rubbed your arm, trying to give you some comfort and you relaxed a little.
"Okay, let me come take a look. I can call the super, he's probably more likely to answer than the landlord." You nodded and he followed you back to your place. Holding his hand out to stop you at the door as he made to go in first.
Sukuna heard the water pouring in before he saw it. He had never been in your apartment before. It was clear that a woman there. There was color everywhere, more blankets than made sense for two people and the walls were covered in photos and artwork. It felt soft, it reminded him of you. And now, it was being ruined by water raining down from the ceiling.
"Why don't you wait in my apartment. You both look like you could use some rest. I'll sort this out," he said, handing over his key. You looked ready to protest but then your daughter started crying.
"Go, I got it."
You looked so relieved and he wiped away a few tears from your daughter's face and pressed a kiss to her forehead which helped bring the tears down to a more tolerable snuffling.
"Thank you so much, I don't even-"
"Don't worry about it. You two just go settle in the guest room and I'll wake you up when it's settled."
You smiled at him and you seemed to hesitate before you went up on your toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
Sukuna couldn't stop himself from grinning as you took your daughter out the door and towards his apartment. He turned around to look at the mess that was your apartment. It looked like a pipe must have burst in the apartment above yours. Annoying, but a quick fix when caught this early. He grabbed his phone, opening it to call the super before a thought came to him that just wouldn't leave.
It would be a shame if you had to terminate your lease because of unsafe conditions, after all you must still have a good six months left on it. He knew you didn't have any family in the area and it would be a lot for a working mom with a kid as young as yours to go apartment hunting all the sudden.
Of course, he did have that guest room. Plenty of space for the three of you and it wouldn't be hard to bring over the stuff you needed while you looked. His apartment was bigger than yours, even though it was just him.
Even if it was a tight fit, his lease was up at the end of the year anyway. You could always get a bigger space, one for your soon to be growing family.
Sukuna pocketed his phone and took a seat at your dining table, away from the water. He figured it would only take another hour before the damage passed the point of no return.
He hoped you and your daughter were resting well in your new home.
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corvidcrossbow · 11 days
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~•♡•~ I Like It Long
➳ Summary: While out on a run, you and Michonne start lightly teasing Daryl for having his hair grown out. But there's a hidden reason as to why he won't cut it. (Daryl x Fem!Reader)
➳ Setting: Alexandria, post Savior war
➳ Word count: 1.4k
➳ C/W: Just smut n hair pulling
➳ A/N: This spawned from me writing the context plot of another fic and I was like… wait (And thank yall for the attention on that Mother's Day post??? Yall are so sweet 😭🫶)
My hair is really similar to Daryl's when it's partially or almost dry and it's actually my favorite thing about myself like xbsosjdjdneisnsiasjebeiisjabajissn
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You loudly banged your forearm against the glass door of a long abandoned drug store, not hearing any noise inside. Vines and weeds had grown through cracks in the concrete, winding up the sides of the building.
“Sounds pretty clear,” You shrugged, holstering your bow and opting for hand-held blades as Michonne pulled open the handle. You, her, and Daryl were clearing through a nearby town while out on a supply run, opting to make quick work of the task in favor of getting home.
You three entered the building, keeping your guard up in case of any straggling walkers that weren't roused by the initial attempts to lure them towards you. The interior wasn't large, so you could comfortably split off from each other and still be close.
“Seems mostly ransacked. Not much left,” Michonne commented, katana lowered but out in front of her. This had begun to grow repetitive and boring, energy matching the grayness of the lighting.
She took a pair of hair cutting shears off the shelf in front of her, holding them up to your gaze a few isles over. “Think he could use these?” She asked as a smile played the edges of her mouth, nodding back towards Daryl, looking for mischief. His hair had grown quite long over the course of the last two years, the tawny blond darkening into a rich brown, accompanied by a shaggy cut.
“Oh definitely. Jus’ gotta determine which onna us can hold him down long enough to cut it,” You replied with a chuckle, eyes following hers to where the archer stood at the endcap of another lane.
“Shuddup, will ya?” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head with grunt. His gaze didn't break from the advertisement in front of him, trying to ignore your antics. “Ts'fine.”
“Gotta make use of whatever supplies we find, no?” You continued your teasing, trying to hide the grin on your face at his reaction. “You were sweatin’ like a pig all summer, hair tangled all over yer face ‘n what not. When was the last time you cut it?”
“Don’ kno’, don’ care,” He grumbled, and you eyed Michonne again. It's definitely been since the prison, at least. He moved on from the stand. “Plus, winter up ‘ere's gon be colder. Will keep me warm.”
“Daryl, you're ‘bout the only one who didn't freshen up since we got to Alexandria. Don't you at least want a trim?” Michonne pestered, raising her eyebrows at him and shifting her weight to one leg. “You remember Rick's whole hobo-beard.”
“Ain't got no ‘hobo-beard’.”
“But you do look like the only ‘scissors’ you know is the recently searched on your go to porn site,” Michonne chaffed, barely able to contain herself.
Daryl froze for just a second, face flushing as his head whipped to stare back at her. And you two burst out laughing, to which his expression soured.
“Give it up, alrigh’?! Ain't nothin’ wrong with mah hair!” He snapped, accent thick with embarrassment, bowing his head slightly in an effort to obscure it. He readjusted his hold on his crossbow. “Gon shoot tha botha ya.”
“Ay, ay! Jus’ sayin’. Rick scrapped the beard and… maybe you'll finally get some play too,” She winked, followed by a lighthearted snicker.
Daryl groaned again and rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, but caught your gaze for just a second.
It's not that he didn't want to cut his hair - he didn't care about it – but he wasn't really allowed to either way. There was one major, sexy, moaning reason he didn't cut his hair.
❥-》》—————➣
“Oh, god, Daryl! Fuck! Don't stop… god don't stop,” You cried out, hands clutching his shoulders as your nails began to dig into his flesh. His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping you steady as he pounded up into you at a relentless pace. That grip was the sole thing grounding you in the reality of the present moment.
“Ain't gon stop,” He affirmed, voice gravelly. You moaned wildly, head weakly falling to his chest with exacerbated breaths, his own heaving against your temple. He leaned closer when he could, harshly sucking at your clavicle and boobs, leaving behind a litter of hickeys and little bites that colored you in reds and purples.
The springs of the bed beneath you sounded like they were gonna fold in on themselves, headboard sporadically banging against the wall as Daryl shifted down a little to hit into you at an angle, your clit brushing against him with each thrust. Your back arched overtop of him, shoving his dick into your belly.
“Baby, please… fhuuuckkkk.” You couldn't even think, every thought consumed by the feeling of him. The way he just destroyed you like it's an art he'd mastered, tip brushing against every sweet and sensitive spot inside you, walls desperately trying to cling on, balls hitting up against you, clit grinding on him, slickness coating his pelvis and your inner thighs, his clutch on you just so fucking strong.
You pulled yourself together, lifting your head to see him. His long hair was dark and dampened with sweat, matting up as it stuck to his forehead, obscuring part of his vision. But he was too focused on using you to fix it, didn't dare to remove his hands unless God willed him to.
You moved up, swiping it away, and his blue eyes instantly connected with yours, pupils blown with lust. He (somehow) sped up, starting to slam your hips up and down to meet him instead of just keeping them stationary, now just beating your cunt.
“Tha's it girl. Jus’ keep takin’ me good like tha’.”
His words made you shiver, and you partially fell forward again, nestling your face beside his and snaking an arm behind his head. Your fingers weaved through his messy hair, tangling at the scalp, then tugging harshly as another wave of pleasure ripped through you.
And he whined. There it is. His breathy gasps and grunts mingled with strained whines, and whimpers, as you pulled tighter and tighter at the roots of his locks. His face contorted, eyes nearly squeezing shut, that one vein bulging from his neck, directly on the verge of so much.
“Daryl… inside.., Dar-” You panted, cut off as everything went white and you hit your peak. Your whole body felt electrified, tensing, twitching, walls spasming, toes curling and claws clinging to his frame.
Daryl tipped over the edge almost immediately after, having just been waiting for you to cum first. He desperately pumped into you a few more times, before curving up once more and simultaneously ramming you down as he came deep in you, the warmth of his release spreading through your core, and he threw his head back with ragged breaths.
You were both left a sweaty mess, gasping for oxygen, feeling full and satisfied. Your muscles couldn't keep you up, and you collapsed onto him, loosening your hold at his scalp, his hold on your hips doing the same.
He recovered a bit quicker than you, bringing a hand up and brushing your own messy hair away the second he had the energy to do so.
“Ya alrigh’, sunshine?” He asked between hitches, hoping he hadn't been too rough. He soothingly rubbed his palm over the curve of your body where bruises were sure to form.
You nodded faintly, moving your head so you could breathe better, and you could feel him relax beneath you from the reassurance. He held you tenderly for a while, giving you time to regain your composure. Your eyes were closed in bliss. Few things beat the feeling of Daryl under you, rising and falling with his torso, hearing his low humming as he steadied himself – his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum ever so surely beginning to dribble down.
You lazily remained in his arms, not wanting to deal with getting up, or the shower you two definitely needed. You took a strand of his hair, affectionately curling it around your finger like a tendril, then letting it go and repeating.
“Ya actually want me tah cut ma hair?” He eventually asked, thinking back to your light mocking from earlier, how you'd laughed as Michonne layered it on. It didn't matter much to him, he'd do whatever pleased you.
“Fuck no. Was just messin’ with you, Dixon,” You replied, kissing the skin of his collarbone right below you, and moving up to find his lips. “You know I like it long.”
The long hair suited him, he looked good with it. You loved to wash and play with it, brush and braid it while he laid in your lap. But mainly, it was easy to grab at, pull on – and close to nothing in existence sounded better than those whines and whimpers every time you did so.
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©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.
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avatarchic · 2 months
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— FOREIGNER
How the Karasuno boys would react to meeting Shoyo's foreign cousin.
— starring. karasuno boys x foreign exchange student!reader (separately), student teacher!reader in ukai's
— tags. fluff, first meetings, pining
— warnings. use of 'pretty' and 'cute' to describe reader, but no pronouns are used, you slap ryuu in his LOL, mild suggestive comment in ryuu's if you squint
— requested? yes! thank you so much for your request this was fun to write :)
— notes. some of these are longer than others sorry ADHKWH my biases are showing a lil // this ended up being a first meeting + how they act when they start crushing on you, but it they're so cute so i didnt wanna change it lolol
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daichi is whipped for you from the start
he doesn't show it (or he doesn't think he does) but he's attracted to you the second he lays eyes on you
he's extra sure to be polite to you, too embarrassed too show his brasher nature in case it scares you off
he loses his backbone whenever you're around
he needs to scold some of the first years for goofing off, but you're standing there? he's all sunshine and rainbows
when he finds out that you're a foreign exchange student, he's over the moon
he subtly finds out your classes from shoyo, who of course doesn't realize his intentions as he blurts out your schedule happily
he checks up on you often, making sure you're adjusting well to japan because "what kind of captain would he be if he let his underclassman's cousin have a hard time?"
the team is none the wiser, except for maybe koshi who sees through his shit immediately
he has a habit of patting your head as a greeting, even if he's just passing you in the hallways even if you complain about him messing up your hair
overall, he's super soft with you :)
sawamura daichi! was annoyed when he met you. shoyo hadn't shown up to practice and wasn't answering his phone, which left the captain ready to send the orange-haired freshman to an early grave. after kei made a smart remark that he saw shoyo lingering near the school entrance, he was on a mission to give the boy hell.
kei was right, of course. when daichi made his way to the entrance, he saw shoyo right away. he stomps over, lips parting to lecture the younger male about responsibilities when his eyes ghost over you. he stops short, shoyo's name barely dropping from his mouth as he pauses.
when you both turn to him, daichi feels his breath catch in his throat. it was clear that you weren't from around here. your odd sense of dress stuck out like a sore thumb—not to mention he had never seen you before. but if anything, he thought you were pretty.
"you're late for practice," daichi states lamely, barely managing to tear his gaze away from you to glower at shoyo. "i ought to put you on cleaning duty tonight."
the threat fell on deaf ears, shoyo's large grin unfaltering as he wraps an arm around your midsection in a tight hug. "captain! sorry, sorry," he apologizes, though the wide grin on his face told daichi he wasn't serious. "my cousin texted me that they were here, so i had to say hi!"
at his words, you finally snap out of your stupor, offering daichi a small smile. "i didn't realize he had practice. i wouldn't have called him out if i knew."
daichi presses his lips together, feeling his ears warm at your kind tone. "it's okay," he says softly. "i'll let him off for now. it's nice to meet you—i'm sawamura daichi."
when you introduce yourself, he finds himself repeating your name in his head.
"oi," he clears his throat, turning to shoyo with a deadpan expression. "c'mon. we're late enough already." daichi turns to bow his head at you politely, quickly turning around before you can see the warmth in his cheeks.
your sweet voice calls out a goodbye, and daichi decides then and there that he wants to get to know you better.
"hey, hey—why are you so red?"
"you're gonna shut up now if you want to go home early tonight."
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koshi didn't realize you were shoyo's cousin until after he got to know you a little
he couldn't help it—when he saw you he just thought you were super cute lmao
he fumbles a bit in front of you
he really really tries to be a cool, calm, and collected person but sometimes he embarrasses himself by saying odd things or staring at you a little too long
when he does figure out you're related to his underclassman, he takes the opportunity to get to know you better
and when he finds out you're in his homeroom? even better
the type to arrange study session together with you every weekend just to spend time with you
he actually invites you to watch their practices and games before shoyo does LOL
the whole team knows about his feelings and he doesn't even care, constantly throwing an arm over you shoulder and hanging around you during downtimes
wants to impress you, so he gives it his all (and then some) whenever you're there
his sets get more accurate and he even blocks more hits than he would've before
he really wants you to think he's cool
but if you compliment him, he's exploding on the spot
suguwara koshi! had no idea you were shoyo's cousin when he met you. you looked nothing alike and your personalities were completely different. despite you being a complete stranger, the lost look on your face amused him.
you met koshi when shoyo accidentally stranded you at the train station. you were supposed to take the same train to his house, but he didn't notice you weren't right behind him when he stepped into the train car. the last you saw of the tangerine-haired boy was the back of his head as the doors closed on you.
you were standing there in a panic, though no one stopped to check if you were okay. shoyo had you hold his schoolbag while he dragged your suitcase along, and when you tried calling his cellphone you heard it buzz in the bag that hung on your shoulder. for the life of you, you couldn't remember which stop to get off or which streets to take to get to his house.
"are you lost?" a gentle voice asks you, pulling you from your anxious thoughts.
your eyes meet and koshi can't help but think you're cute as hell. you look doe-eyed in your panic, rounded eyes and parted lips. when you don't answer right away, koshi's cool demeanor switches and he stumbles into an embarrassed frenzy. "wait, can you even understand japanese?"
thankfully, you do, having learned it from shoyo at a younger age. you blink away the remnants of your panic with a few hasty nods. "yes, sorry. my cousin accidentally left me here, and i don't really know how to get to his house..."
koshi calms down at your insistence, chuckling to himself. "do you know the address?"
you wince, "no."
"alright," he says in a way that he hopes is soothing for you. "i can keep you company while you wait for him to return, then. it'd probably be nicer than just standing here by yourself."
when you agree, he hides his smile. he asks you several icebreakers, such as your name and your favourite colour. with every passing second, he only thinks you're even cuter than when he first saw you.
eventually, shoyo does come back, panting and heaving as he runs up the stairs to the station platform. his bright eyes widen when he sees you together with koshi. "oh, sugawara? you've met my cousin?"
koshi meets your eyes with a grin. "i guess we'll be seeing each other more often."
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honestly asahi doesn't even acknowledge you when you first meet
he doesn't find out you're shoyo's cousin for weeks, so you're really just another classmate to him
you don't even talk to each other until like a month or so after you transferred
and even then, your conversations are short
he's polite to you when you work together, but he doesn't really try to become friends with you
don't get him wrong! he thinks you're nice and pretty, but he is too damn shy to initiate anything with you
you kinda think he hates you at first, but after you realize that he's just not an outgoing person you relax around him
when he does find out you're related to shoyo, you end up seeing each other more often out of class
you show up to more practices, even if you're just sitting on the benches doing homework
shoyo even drags you along whenever the team meets up outside of school to hang out
as a result, you and asahi eventually grow closer and he opens up more bit by bit
he doesn't actually start crushing on you until graduation nears
he realizes it when he hears you cheering his name at one of their bigger games
he thinks his name sounds prettier coming from you
he doesn't initiate any skinship with you, but he's always asking about your day and checking on you in his own ways
will absolutely combust if you even so much as brush pinkies as you're walking together
azumane asahi! first met you in class. like koshi, he doesn't know you're related to shoyo initially. when the teacher introduces you, making you write your name on the board, you don't have the same last name as shoyo. he doesn't really pay much attention to you, minding his own business as he takes out his notebook and pens.
several weeks pass and your homeroom teacher announces that you'll be partnering up for a group presentation. your first real conversation with him goes as expected—you exchange contact information and go your separate ways when the bell rings.
he thinks you're attractive, but he's too shy to actually act on those thoughts and he just pushes through the project, interacting with you as little as possible.
it's only when shoyo forgets his volleyball uniform at your house that asahi figures out you're related.
he sees you first, standing in the gym entrance while you wait to be invited in. you look hesitant as your eyes cast over the several members of the volleyball club, your gaze landing on asahi. when recognition flickers behind your eyes, he thinks you're there for him.
he opens his mouth to greet you, but before he can even utter a word, an orange blur runs past him. you're almost knocked on your ass as shoyo tackles you, excitedly calling out your name. "what're you doing here?" he asks you, tilting his head as he releases you from his death grip. "you never come to practice."
"you left your uniform at mine," you explain quietly, pulling the clothing out of your bag.
there's a moment of silence, before all hell breaks loose. the others scream and yell at shoyo, yuu and ryuunosuke shaking him by the shoulders as they demand why they weren't informed about his girlfriend.
even asahi's jaw drops at the thought of you, his classmate and group partner, dating shoyo, of all people.
"we aren't dating!" you exclaim, shaking your hands in front of you adamantly as disgust paints over your facial features. "we're cousins."
as the club eventually quiets down, you meet asahi's gaze over the commotion. when you offer him a bashful smile, he can't help but return it.
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as expected, yuu is also whipped for you the second you meet
he swears on his life that he has never met someone as perfect as you—not even kiyoko (which says a lot)
at first, his attraction to you is entirely physical and he doesn't hide it
he compliments you every time he sees you he even compliments your outfits even if you're just wearing the karasuno uniform
he practically begs shoyo to bring you to practice just so he has an excuse to ogle at you and profess his 'undying love'
you'd probably make good friends with kiyoko, bonding over the second years' unabashed feelings and loud professions of love lol
though he's completely smitten with your looks, yuu doesn't learn a thing about you until like two months after your transfer
he realizes it when koshi asks if he knows anything about you and no, the fact that you're pretty doesn't count as something
during a late night run to the nearest convenience store, he runs into you
you're dressed casually, and he realizes it's actually the first time he's seen you outside of uniform
he thinks you're very cute in your bunny pajamas
he approaches you with koshi's words in mind, and asks if you want to hang out for a bit
your hang outs become a common thing, and eventually it's your weekend tradition to meet at the convenient store after sundown
after really getting to know you, he realizes that he likes more than just your appearance
shockingly, once he figures out his feelings for you, he tones down a lot
he would stop confessing his love for you every moment he could, but he gets casually affectionate with you
he'd always stand close enough for your shoulders to touch and would absentmindedly guide you places by taking your hand
he's never had a real crush on anyone before, so he's feeling it out with you
nishinoya yuu! has hearts in his eyes the moment he meets you. shoyo brought you to practice one day, excited to introduce his favourite cousin to his teammates. he had all but dragged you to the gym by the wrist, ignoring your insistent utterings that you can walk on your own.
"this is my cousin!" shoyo announces the second he bursts through the doors in true hinata shoyo fashion. you were the last ones to show up, so the entire team was there to witness you getting dragged in by shoyo. "they transferred here from overseas."
yuu feels the world stop once he glances over at you after receiving a particularly harsh spike from tobio, freezing into his squatted position. his world becomes a romcom movie—he swears someone must be blowing a fan in your direction with the way your hair sways as you walk into the gym. he might even be seeing the air sparkle in your presence.
he's absolutely starstruck with you, and he makes no effort to hide it as he bounds over to you. he takes your hands in his, looking at you with wide eyes as he takes you in. he can hear someone groaning, maybe daichi, as they mutter something along the lines of "he's at it again."
"i'm nishinoya yuu," he introduces himself. "you're really cute!"
your mouth opens, but no words come out as you simply stare at yuu in surprise. shoyo had given you a brief rundown of his group members, and you realize that this might be why he warned you about the libero in particular.
even when daichi smacks the back of his head, apologizing to you quietly, yuu remains in his lovestruck gaze.
you stay to watch their practice, at both shoyo and yuu's insistence, and yuu makes a point to be even more extravagant than usual. you can't help but laugh at his boisterous rolling receives and the way he calls out ridiculous move names.
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oh ryuu. typical ryuu.
the first words he ever speaks to you end up with him getting slapped
like yuu, he thinks you've been blessed by the gods with your looks and he makes it clear to you when you meet
he asks you to go out with him, only to blatantly check you out right after, which earned him a smack to the face
eventually, he does apologize for his behaviour, though you don't accept it right away
when you tell him that you hate guys who treat others like eye candy, he's sure to tone it down for you
of course, a man can't change overnight
he still flirts with you, and with other women—he can't help it ;( him n yuu are menaces
however, when he's not being an absolute pest, he gets to know you
he learns about your interests and hobbies, and finds himself indulging you in them (who would've thought he'd end up enjoying the art of bracelet making?)
when you become close friends, you become his person
he goes to you whenever he wants to talk about something, and he lends an ear whenever you need to vent
he asks you about your home country often, wanting to know more about your life before you came to japan
he'd even go out of his way to do things for you that remind you of home whenever you start feeling homesick :)
it's not until well after graduation when he realizes that he might actually like you
tanaka ryuunosuke! was mid confession when you met. shoyo had brought you to one of their games, and just as ryuunosuke was getting on his knees to ask kiyoko to marry him, his eyes fall on you.
it's almost astounding how quickly the second year moved from the glasses-wearing beauty to you, appearing in front of you in an instant. before shoyo can even introduce you, he stares you down with a steeled expression, his eyes narrowing.
"you're the prettiest person i've ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on," he claims in his most serious tone. he takes your hands in his as he presses his lips to your knuckles. "please go out with me."
there's a collective sigh as the team turns away at his antics. you, on the other hand, feel your head pound in irritation. "excuse me?"
ryuunosuke doesn't hear the vexation in your tone, or chooses to ignore it, as his eyes trail over your features. even when you're staring at him in an angry disbelief, he thinks you're incredibly pretty. however, as his eyes drop lower and lower, his mind enters a less-than-appropriate headspace.
the feeling of your hand connecting with his cheek rips him out of his lewd daydreams. you didn't slap him hard, but the sound echoed over the loud chatter of the audience members anyway. "you pervert," you utter, gritting your teeth as you turn on your heel. you barely tell shoyo good luck as you all but stomp off to the bleachers.
ryuunosuke stares at your back, holding his reddening cheek in mild awe. yuu nudges his side. "don't tell me you're into that, man."
he at least has the grace to blush.
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to be honest, you and tobio do not get along until much later
it's not because you're related to shoyo it is
he just genuinely has no idea how to talk to you lmao
you meet him on the first day of school with shoyo
the realization that he may be teammates with the very guy he had practically berated in middle school took priority over greeting you tbh
it's only after their initial fight when he realizes that you, a complete stranger, saw him yell at shoyo as harshly as he did (even if shoyo didn't have many nice things to say either)
he's kinda embarrassed abt it tbh
like?? you had to see him like that?? he's mortified
so when he joins the volleyball club and you're a manager, he avoids you like the plague
when he talks to you, he accidentally comes across as if he hates your guts (he doesn't, he just cannot properly converse with people to save his life)
your relationship is extremely terse for months, since you get pissed off at his behaviour and he doesn't know how to act normally around you
he doesn't warm up to you until one of their games later in the season, where the morale is low and the team is hanging their heads
you give them an uplifting speech, telling the team that they're stronger than they think
it's the first time tobio looks at you in a pleasant light, and he merely puts a hand on your shoulder to say thanks as he makes his way back to the court
slowburn as fuck tbh he might not even realize he likes you until you're about to graduate (cut him some slack he's only a lil slow)
kageyama tobio! barely acknowledges your existence when you meet. you had moved to japan before their first year at karasuno began, so you showed up with shoyo to the first day.
of course, tobio recognized shoyo immediately from their encounter in middle school. shoyo had dragged you to the gym to go with him to sign up for the volleyball club, insistent that you try to apply to be a manager or something. tobio was there, about to spike a volleyball.
the second shoyo and tobio lock eyes on each other, they're at it like cats and dogs, and you're left standing there in confusion. seeing shoyo as angry as he was is shocking to you and you wonder what the hell this other guy must've done to rile up your sunshine cousin so much.
tobio doesn't even look at you as he argues with shoyo, not meeting your eyes until after the fight has 'calmed' down. he stares at you quietly for a moment before averting his gaze, grumbling something under his breath as he leaves to retrieve the volleyball shoyo made him drop.
he doesn't say anything to you as you talk quietly with daichi about becoming a manager. he vaguely overhears shoyo introducing you as his cousin, but he's too annoyed to listen.
later on, when him and shoyo are finally accepted into the club, and you're brought on as a manager-in-training, tobio still ignores you.
you don't have your first conversation until a week later, when you corner him after practice. "what is your problem?" you demand, your hands propped on your hips. "i know you don't like sho, but you haven't said a single word to me since you joined the club."
tobio flushes in embarrassment as he stares at you. he doesn't mean to, but his eyes narrow into what could be perceived as a harsh glare. "i don't have anything to say," he says truthfully, his voice coming out colder than necessary.
when he rushes off to hide his growing fluster, you're left standing there confused.
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you and kei barely interacted at first tbh
he had never seen you before and it was the weekend when you met so he had no reason to assume you'd ever talk again really
even after finding out you were related to shoyo, he didn't bat an eye
after all, he's not exactly going over to the orange-haired boy's house for sleepovers lolol
but to his surprise, you're in his classroom the next monday morning as a foreign exchange student
your classmates rush to you, overwhelming you with numerous questions about your hometown, and it's clear to kei that you're flustered
you meet his gaze over the crowd of people, and for a moment you're shocked to see him
however, before either of you can do anything, you get bombarded with even more questions
to your surprise and his, kei scoffs as he approaches your crowded desk
"can't you see you're bothering them?"
the gaggle of students dissipates with embarrassed apologies, leaving you and kei alone
your relationship with him from then on is odd
there's an unspoken agreement that you both don't like being bothered by other people, and you lowkey bond over it
he would never admit you're friends, but he comes to your rescue often
if you can't understand a phrase or if you don't know the answer to a question in class, he'll quietly help you out (but don't bother asking about it, 'cus he'll deny it vehemently)
when you start hanging out during practices, he ruffles your hair and rests his arm on your head regardless of your height
making fun of you is his love language (not that he'd ever admit he has feelings)
tsukishima kei! meets you when you're babysitting natsu. the team had been out getting ice cream (as per koshi's insistence—for team building), leaving kei in a sour mood because he would rather be anywhere than here.
"shoyo! sho!"
the whole team looks over, seeing a little girl who is the spitting image of their short middle blocker running toward them. kei's expression drops even more, because there's two of them?
shoyo almost drops his ice cream cone with the way the little girl jumps on him. "what are you doing here?" shoyo asks, scrambling to catch his sweet treat. "where's—"
before he can finish his sentence, another figure comes running at them, out of breath. "natsu!" you scold airily as you make your way up to the team, hunching over and resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath. "jesus, don't just run off like that!"
you look up at shoyo from your hunched position, letting kei get a good look at your face. you're flushed, sweat beading on your brow bone and lips are parted as you breathe harshly through them. it's clear to the blond that you've been running around for some time now, something that makes him snort into his strawberry ice cream cup.
"sorry, sho," you wince, practically dragging the little girl, natsu, to your side. "she ran off while i was paying for her snacks. she probably saw you through the window." you vaguely gesture to a nearby convenience store, holding up a bag of candy.
you talk with shoyo for another moment, before turning to the rest of the team. your eyes briefly meet kei's and he arches a brow at you. you apologize for interrupting them, but daichi insists that you're fine and that you and natsu can hang around since you're there anyway.
as a result, you and kei end up standing near each other as the group converses. kei had been hanging a little bit away from the others, minus tadashi of course. you end up near him by coincidence—you don't know the others, and the three of you end up quietly sitting in acknowledgement that you didn't want to talk.
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my darling baby tadashi is a mess when you meet <3
he was practicing his volleyball skills when he accidentally whams you in the face
he'd feel guilty about it for a while (even if you insist you're fine) and would use it as an excuse to buy you drinks from the vending machines lol
"this is the fourth drink you've bought me this week??"
"i have to make up for hitting you somehow :((("
becoming friends with tadashi is surprisingly easy, given how shy he can be
it becomes a habit to meet you by the vending machines before practice
the time in the halls between classes and volleyball are spent getting to know you
he asks a lot of questions about what it's like in your hometown and the differences in your culture
i don't think he'd start liking you until after you also get close with kei though lol good luck
the first time he sees you joking around with the tall blond, he thinks his heart is about to beat out of his chest
you must be an angel, he decides as he watches you get along with kei
the three of you form a trio and you end up spending more time with them than shoyo LOL
kei absolutely knows about tadashi's feelings and takes every opportunity to tease him about it whilst you're blissfully unaware
he's so so smitten around you after he realizes he likes you
the type to look at you like you hung the stars in the sky yourself and to becoming maddeningly red whenever you so much as make eye contact with him
yamaguchi tadashi! hits you in the head the first time he meets you. he was in the gym alone, practicing his float serve. you pushed through the heavy metal doors just in time to get slammed in the face with a ball gone awry.
he feels his heart drop to his toes as he quickly rushes over to you, asking if you're alright and if you need to see the nurse. his panic only worsens when he realizes you're bleeding from your nose.
although the hit shocked you, you're left watching in amusement as tadashi scrambles to find something to stop your nosebleed with. when he eventually returns to you, having ran from the boys washroom to grab a wad of papertowel, he apologizes again softly.
"are you okay now...?" he asks when your nosebleed finally stops. he looks almost like a kicked puppy, his hair falling limply into his eyes.
even after you reassure him that you're fine, tadashi still wears his guilt like a crown. he offers to buy you something from the vending machines, and does so despite your insistence that he doesn't need to.
"you can accept it for my sake," he says sheepishly as he offers you the cold can. the two of you converse quietly, with you introducing yourself as a new foreign exchange student.
"oh!" he suddenly lets out, looking over at you. "did you need something in the gym?"
"i was looking for my cousin," you sigh. "he said he was in the volleyball club and i haven't been able to find him at all today."
he's shocked when he finds out that you're shoyo's cousin—the boy had talked about you earlier in the week when he found out you were transferring to karasuno. as you talk, tadashi thinks to himself that shoyo never mentioned how cute you were.
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your first meeting with keishin is awkward
ltrly knocks you off your feet when he runs into you
he's kind of brash when he meets you, not caring if you think of him badly because of it
you don't have much of a relationship at first—your work pulls you to the classrooms after all, so he doesn't really see you around often
the next time he sees you, you're stomping into the gymnasium mid practice with an irked expression
he's about to tell you off for interrupting practice, but he quiets when he sees you make your way to your younger cousin
he only watches in amusement when you tell him off for his horrid grades
when shoyo turns to keishin for help, he only shrugs with a lazy grin on his face
"sorry, little man, you heard 'em. no volleyball games until you raise your grades"
to shoyo's chagrin, you and keishin make a terrifying pair for him (and the other three idiots lolol)
you only really start hanging out with him when you end up making a late night run at his convenience store
it's the first time he sees you in casual clothing and the case of beer in your hands makes him laugh
"you wanna share that?"
he becomes your drinking buddy every other weekend, and he grows to cherish the time you spend chugging back cans of beer with him
keeps his feelings on the downlow, but as time goes on even the boys realize that their coach has a soft spot for you
ukai keishin! bodies you the first time you meet. the man doesn't realize his own strength until he literally knocks you flat on his ass after he turns a corner and bumps into you. his eyes go wide when the books and papers in your hands go flying, falling around you in a frenzy.
"shit," he curses under his breath, bending down to pick up your things. "sorry 'bout that." his voice is gruff as he speaks, collecting your papers without much care. when he returns them to you, some of them are scuffed and crumpled.
as he's handing you your things, he finally gets a good look at you. you're dressed more formally than he is by a mile. he holds a hand out to help you to your feet, his brown eyes falling to the lanyard around your neck.
"you new here?" he asks, jutting his chin out to gesture to your nametag. student teacher is typed above your name and picture.
you nod deftly, brushing off any dirt from your dress pants. "i started today. and you are?" your eyes meet his, and he knows you're silently scrutinizing him. he's much too old to be a student, you deduce easily, but he's dressed far more casually than any other other teachers.
when your eyes drift up to his bleached hair, he snorts. "i'm the coach for the volleyball club," he grumbles. "i don't need to be wearing fancy shit like you."
he sees your eyes light up in recognition as he analyzes your face with crossed arms. "the volleyball club? you must know my cousin then. hinata shoyo?"
keishin deadpans at you. "you're the runt's cousin?"
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©AVATARCHIC please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.
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star-sim · 2 months
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head over heels ☆ sunghoon park
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☆ spider-man! sunghoon x single mother! fem! reader ☆ summary: being a single mother was hard, especially when you lived in such a bustling, yet crime-ridden city. as a mother you personally dislike spider-man, even if your toddler son was obsessed with him. thank goodness, you have your best friend, sunghoon, to help you out at times. but little do you know, that same best friend of yours was spider-man. uh oh! ☆ genre: spider-man! au, friends to lovers, reader is a single mother, riki is your kid lol (can be interpreted as either adopted or biological), baddie reader alert! , down bad! + protective! sunghoon, slow-burn ish/very subtle romance ☆ warning(s)? minor violence ☆ word count: 16.9k words ☆ based off of "head over heels" by tears for fears, also i hope this reads as comic-booky lol
reblogs and feedback is appreciated!
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"Sunghoon, is it just me or is Spider-Man the worst thing that's ever happened to this city?"
Sunghoon dropped the kitchen knife in his hand, the one that he was currently using to dice a few carrots.
Clunk!
The man looked over his shoulder to where you were.
It was only a few minutes ago that you came back from work— your 9-5 office job. The moment that your apartment door slammed shut, you kicked off your god-awful shoes, threw your keys aside, and made your way to the kitchen, where you found Sunghoon peacefully already making dinner.
It wasn't abnormal for Sunghoon to be casually in your apartment. In fact, it was more than ordinary.
Sunghoon was a good friend, someone that you had an infinite amount of trust in. Sometimes, your boss liked to fuck you over and make you work overtime, and sometimes your coworkers were so insufferable that all of your energy was spent, so it was convenient that Sunghoon would hang around your apartment and watch over it, and when the time came, make you dinner.
He never minded it. He actually quite enjoyed it. A lot.
Especially because house-sitting came with an extra responsibility: taking care of your son, Riki.
You were a single mother with a full-time job. Of course Sunghoon wouldn't mind taking some of the load off your back.
Currently, you sat at your kitchen table, flopped over yourself. You were still in your work clothes, your face still made up. Your feet ached, and your eyelids felt heavy.
You never questioned why Sunghoon had so much time on his hands, enough time to babysit and house-sit for you. 
"Y-Yeah," Sunghoon answered, clearing his throat. "The worst."
Yes, he did have a job. Yes, his job had relatively short work hours. Yes, it paid pretty well. 
And it was because Sunghoon was Spider-Man. 
But you didn't have to know that.
"Riki's been napping since he got home from daycare," Sunghoon changed the subject. "He wouldn't stop calling out for you, so I had to show him a picture of you for him to fall asleep."
At the mention of your son's name, you perked up. Almost as if all of your tiredness melted away, you jumped to your feet, disappearing into the hallway. 
Sunghoon couldn't help the grin that seeped onto his face when you came out with Riki, your one year-old son scooped up in your arms. From the kitchen, he could hear you coo at your son's sleepy face, giggling to yourself as Riki clutched onto you, digging his face into the crook of his neck.
"Riiiikiiii-yaaa!" you drawled, your voice sounding brighter. "I missed you, baby."
Sunghoon laughed, nearly chopping off his finger when Riki babbled some incoherent string of sounds, still sleepy from his long afternoon nap. 
You brought Riki into the kitchen, sitting him down onto his baby-chair. 
Sunghoon listened quietly, his attention directed at making the best meal possible, as you chattered with your son.
There was something so joyful about hearing you gush over Riki's every attempt to pronounce literally any coherent word, squealing when he managed to say, "dog." 
"Mama!" Riki exclaimed, making grabby hands at you. From his peripheral vision, Sunghoon could see you melting, instantly scooping your son back up again, peppering his chubby cheeks with kisses.
One of things that Sunghoon loved about you: your endless devotion to your son.
You'd lay down your life for Riki, and it was one of the most loveable things about you.
"Hoo!" Riki laughed. "Hoo!"
The second thing that Sunghoon loved about you? Your son himself.
"Sunghoon, Riki wants you," you said, a smile in your voice. Riki couldn't pronounce Sunghoon, or even Hoon, so he instead opted for the much easier option: 'Hoo.'
Sunghoon instantly dropped his kitchen utensils, quickly washing and drying his hands. You hoisted up your son, carefully placing him into Sunghoon's arms while still having a gentle hold on him.
Sunghoon took the child.
Riki was a beautiful child. Sunghoon had spent a lot of time with him, to the point that he grew very fond of him. If there was something that he and Riki had in common, it was their love for you.
The three of you stayed like that for a few pulses: Sunghoon embracing Riki, while you stood close by, your hands still holding onto Riki.
Sunghoon could see both the tiredness and love in your eyes, and the youthful glimmer in Riki's chubby face.
There were moments like this, where you and Riki were simply close to him, relying on him for whatever support he could give, Sunghoon wished it could last forever.
Then, the three of you sat down to eat. 
The rest of the night was quiet. You bathed Riki while Sunghoon prepared his clothes and diapers, and at the end, the two of you tucked Riki in.
"Good night, Riki," you whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
You were already at the doorway, fingering the light switch, when Sunghoon's eyes glazed over Riki. 
"Good night, kiddo," he said quietly, so quiet that even Sunghoon couldn't hear himself, before ruffling Riki's hair.
"So, how was work?"
Perhaps, one of Sunghoon's favorite times of the day was after dinner, after you both washed up and Riki was in bed. 
The two of you liked to hang around your living room, and just talk. It wasn't like you had any good work friends to talk to, but you didn't mind. After all, you had Sunghoon.
It was another one of those especially stressful and hectic days at work, so Sunghoon brought out a bottle of champagne.
"So bad," you huffed, reclining back on your couch, throwing an arm over your eyes. "So fucking bad."
Sunghoon nudged you with his foot, handing you a glass of sparkly champagne. Then, he rested at the head of the couch, gently taking your head into his hands and placing it onto his lap. His lanky fingers made his way to your shoulders, pressing down onto them. Slowly, he began to massage you.
"What happened?"
You groaned, sinking back into the warmth that was Sunghoon's fingers. "My fuckass boss. Decided to make me do the intern's work because I was five minutes late."
"That sucks," Sunghoon murmured, his fingers digging into your skin in a way that made you sigh in relief. "Is he giving you a hard time?"
"Always," you sighed. "I don't know why Choi promoted him. He's got a stick up his ass."
Sunghoon frowned.
He heard you cuss out your shitty boss and coworkers all the time, but he knew deep down, no matter how much you despised them, you would never abandon ship. It was in your blood to care too much, to put your all into something— anything— and expect nothing in return.
And that's what Sunghoon loved so much about you. 
That's right, loved.
He threw that word around a lot when it came to you, but he truly meant it. 
Sunghoon loved you. He didn't know how, whether it be as a friend, or as a lover, but he loved you and that's all he needed to know. 
He loved you since the day you met in your senior years of high school. 
He loved you when you cradled his face as he shed hot tears over his heartbreak. 
He loved you when you and him snuck around the college dorms, creeping into each other's rooms to enjoy late-night ramen.
He loved you when you met your (now ex-) boyfriend Taehyun, and he didn't even think of loving you any less when you announced that you were having a child with him three years after graduating college.
And he loved you now as you slept peacefully on your couch, curling up against what warmth Sunghoon could give you.
Sunghoon gazed at you.
How could he not resist falling in love with you?
Your eyes kept fluttering as they were shut, your hands randomly twitching at times. You've been working so hard to provide for you and your son, while also sacrificing your time to spend with Sunghoon.
Sunghoon was pulled out of his thoughts when his phone rang. It was loud, loud enough that Sunghoon jumped and your body instinctively jerked in its place.
"Shit— shit!" 
Of course Sunghoon knew exactly where his phone was. He shot a spider web across your house to grab his blaring phone.
Under the dim light, his blue phone screen illuminated the room.
Incoming call... Mr. Lee, it read.
Uh-oh.
Sunghoon was about to take the call, when he noticed you stirring in your sleep.
"Sung...hoon?" you muttered softly. Sunghoon immediately darted to your side.
"Shhh, it's nothing, [Name]," he said gently. He reached out to cup your cheek, to which you nuzzled your face into his palm, softly letting out a sleepy whimper. "Go back to sleep."
After a few moments of stirring, you fell back into your slumber.
Sunghoon glanced at his phone.
Incoming call... Mr. Lee. He couldn't miss it.
Then he glanced back at you, laying on the couch, shivering into yourself.
Fuck it.
Sunghoon scooped you up in his arms, doing his best to be gentle with you. As the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, it wasn't always easy trying to control his spidey senses and heightened abilities. But when it came to you, it almost came naturally.
He carried you to your bedroom, tucking you in with as many pillows and blankets as he could find.
"Good night," Sunghoon whispered. He stared at you for a few moments, his eyes studied your face. He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, before swallowing down hard. Would it be weird to give your forehead a kiss? He didn't even kiss Riki, because he didn't feel like it was his right to. Sunghoon sighed. He turned away from you, taking one more glance over his shoulder before he turned off the lights and shut your bedroom door.
(Of course, Sunghoon went to go check up on Riki before he cracked open your apartment window, already in his red and blue glory.)
"Yes, yes, I know, Mr. Lee," Sunghoon muttered into his phone. "I know, I'm already on it. Yes. Okay. Bye."
Sunghoon huffed to himself as he jammed his phone into his pocket, muttering curses under his breath.
A bank robbery on Main Street, nothing to be surprised at. The city's crime-rate had been increasing lately, much to Sunghoon's chagrin. The cold air kissed his masked cheeks as he swung from building to building.
It had become a routine for him. Every night, after listening to you talk enough for you to insist that he went home, or staying up late enough to see you fall asleep, Sunghoon usually found himself doing his night patrol. It was mundane, a slow and conventional routine, but Sunghoon loved it.
Seokmin Lee, or DK, was a man a few years his senior, and also the man employing him. To put it simply, DK was a bit of a mad scientist, and under certain circumstances, Sunghoon and him met. After a spider bite, DK's genetically modified organisms, and a lot of crime-fighting, Sunghoon became Spider-Man.
As Sunghoon peeked over the hedge, he watched the group of burglars sneakily creep out of the dark bank. It was insane to him how poor the security was, but what was more concerning was the cartoonish sack of money the robbers were carrying over their shoulders, and the fact that they were wearing black and white striped shirts. They looked like the robbers in Riki's kiddy cartoons. 
If Riki was here, Sunghoon thought, he'd probably start laughing.
In one fell swoop, Sunghoon swung down to the robbers, landing a kick square on one of the robbers' heads.
"Agh—!"
"Good evening, gentlemen," Sunghoon greeted calmly, but his voice was filled with contempt. With one of the assailants knocked down, Sunghoon put his hands on his hips, cocking his head. "What're you up to tonight?"
He gazed at their faces: painted with horror and terror. Why didn't they even think of wearing masks when committing a crime? How dumb were they?
"S-Spiderman?!"
There's a pulse of silence, where Sunghoon just stared at them incredulously, almost expecting some sort of retaliation. Even though he was masked, his expression read, 'Can you guys try to put up a fight at least?'
"Get him!" The robbers yelled, beginning to charge at him.
"Let's not be ridiculous, guys" Sunghoon said exasperated, sighing. 
He shot a web at two of the robbers as he attempted to attack him, before wrapping the white ropes around them, sticking them together. Another burglar tried to sneak up behind him, but they were almost pathetically too slow for his spider-like abilities. 
Within minutes, Sunghoon had the criminals tied up with spider webs. He'd already called the cops.
"Curse you, Spider-man!" 
Really, tonight was playing out like one of Riki's cartoons. It was almost funny.
"Yeah, yeah," Sunghoon waved off, brushing off any dirt on his suit. Before he shot a web up to a building, Sunghoon turned over his shoulder. "Next time, get better outfits. You guys look hilarious."
With that, Sunghoon began swinging away, ignoring the curses from the little criminals, whose cries got smaller and smaller.
The worst part about dealing with crime in this city was the outcomes. People saw that other people were attempting to commit crimes, leading them to want to commit crimes too. It was a never-ending snowball effect. It seemed like every day the crime was just escalating. A few months ago it was just petty theft and the occasional mugging every week. Now it seemed like there was some large scheme every day.
If the helicopters flying overhead and the police sirens weren't telling enough, the entire city was awake once again, trying to catch a glimpse of the commotion down on main street.
Checking his phone, there were already several news outlets trying to get a quick buck from reporting the situation. That was probably one of the worst aspects of crime-fighting: the concerning amount of people trying to profit off of it. They just loved to use Sunghoon's red and blue likeness on the front covers.
Truthfully, Sunghoon didn't care about fame. He couldn't stand the reporters shoving microphones in his face. 
He only agreed to be Spider-Man for one reason and one reason only.
Ding!
Sunghoon slipped his phone out of his pocket.
[name]: just woke up i heard there was a robbery 
[name]: you went home right? are you safe?
The corners of Sunghoon's lips lifted briefly. You had a specific way of showing you care for him, and it was exactly this.
sunghoon: yeah i'm safe
sunghoon: i just went out to get you more groceries
sunghoon: youre missing eggs and milk
[name]: thank you hoon, you didn't have to
But he did have to.
After all, you were you, and you deserved nothing but the best. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to take some responsibility off your shoulders.
sunghoon: i'll be back in 10
sunghoon: go back to sleep
Sunghoon was true to his word, as he returned within 10 minutes, with a bag of groceries in hand, to see you curled up on the couch, waiting for him to return. He couldn't help but smile.
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"Hoo!" 
Riki?
"Hoo, Hoo!"
Sunghoon was shaken awake by a weight on his chest, and soft, chubby hands grabbing his face.
If it weren't for his incredible spider abilities, Sunghoon thought that he would have punted someone. Luckily, he didn't, because it was Riki that was waking him up.
"Riki?" Sunghoon said groggily. Taking the child in his arms and holding him close, Sunghoon sat up. He noticed that he was back in your apartment, sprawled out across your couch. He squished Riki's cheek, earning a giggle from the baby. The man rubbed his eyes, yawning. "Where's your mom?"
"Right here," your voice entered the room, a slight smile in it. Sunghoon whipped his head around to see you standing at the doorway, in your work clothes. 
You slinked over to Sunghoon and Riki. 
"Good morning, Sunghoon," you smiled at him.
Sunghoon blinked at you. "What time is it?"
"Almost 8AM," you answered smoothly, taking your son out of Sunghoon's arms and stroking Riki's hair.
Sunghoon immediately jumped to his feet. He usually woke up an hour or two before that to prepare breakfast for you! 
"Oh shit—!"
"Relax," you put your hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze and pushing him back down onto the couch. "I already made breakfast. Riki's already fed, too."
Sunghoon watched as you gave Riki a peck on the cheek, before giving your kid back to him.
"I'll be back by 6," you told him as you slipped on your shoes, "Breakfast is on the table, just heat it up if needed."
"Right," Sunghoon nodded slowly. "See you. Have a good day at work."
"You too," you said in a sing-songy voice, before heading out the door, leaving Sunghoon and Riki alone.
.
.
.
"Mama!" Riki cooed, making grabby hands at the door.
Sunghoon gently bonked the baby's head with his fist. "She just left."
Riki's lips formed into a pout, his eyebrows furrowing together as his chubby cheeks puffed out. 
"Mama!" he argued back.
Sunghoon couldn't help but poke the kid's cheeks. "I already said, she just left."
And cue the tears.
Sunghoon and Riki had beef. Nothing serious, just that Riki, even if he was an actual baby, liked to bother Sunghoon. And because Riki was already so much like you, it was hard to say no to him. Even so, he found himself butting heads with the child from time to time.
As Riki wailed, Sunghoon sighed, hoisting him up. 
"What am I going to do with you..." he muttered to himself.
"Ah wah mama! (I want Mama!)" Riki cried, squirming against Sunghoon's chest.
Days with Riki were fun. 
And exhausting. 
But more fun than not.
It usually started with feeding him, but thanks to you, he was already fed. The daycare didn't open until another few hours, so in this time Sunghoon found himself being the most shameful version of himself that he could think of. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration. But it was definitely a side of himself that made him cringe.
Case and point: Sunghoon's dreadful baby voice.
As he sat against the living room floor, Sunghoon let Riki sit on his lap against his chest. For such an active child, Riki especially liked it when Sunghoon read to him. 
So that's what Sunghoon did.
Riki's little baby books were the interactive kind, the ones where the little caterpillars sprawled across the cardboard pages were fuzzy and the pop-out orange tree in the corner actually smelled of citrus.
It was unfortunate, at least to Sunghoon, because he always started off the reading with a completely normal voice, and by the end, he'd be talking to Riki with a high-pitched baby voice.
"Feel the grass, Riki," Sunghoon guided Riki's much smaller hand to the furry grassy patch on the book. He didn't even notice the way his voice got softer, going up airily at the end of his sentences. Riki babbled at the feeling of the soft texture under his fingertips, his eyes squeezing together as his high giggles filled the room. Sunghoon grinned. "Feels nice, right?.
Riki laughed again, clapping his chubby hands. 
"I bet it does," Sunghoon rubbed his knuckle against Riki's cheek. 
"Hoo!" Riki babbled suddenly.
Sunghoon picked the baby up, placing him on his feet and turning him around so that Sunghoon could see his face. Placing his hands on Riki's side to stabilize him, Sunghoon hummed. "What's up?"
"Hoo!" Riki repeated again, making grabby hands up at him. "Ub! (Up!)"
"Aren't you a little too old for upsies?" Sunghoon asked Riki as if he wasn't one year old, but still complied, lifting the kid up and resting Riki's face on his shoulder. Riki really liked it when Sunghoon carried him around while he did stuff, probably because Sunghoon's height made it a thrilling experience for him.
Sunghoon really enjoyed Riki's presence, even if the kid liked to give him hell. 
Which was why he narrowed his eyes, looking around suspiciously as if you were there to catch him red-handed, before he tossed Riki’s small body into the air. 
If Riki was any other normal baby, he'd scream in fear. But he wasn't. So all Riki did was let out an excited squeal. Almost immediately, Sunghoon shot a web at him, yanking him down from the air and into his arms in an instant.
"You better not tell your mother," Sunghoon booped Riki's nose as the baby clapped his hands, giggling. "She'll kick my ass if she knew that I was throwing you around."
And she'd also beat my ass if she knew that I was Spider-Man.
Speaking of which...
Sunghoon knew better than anyone how you felt about Spider-Man.
In short, you hated him. You hated Spider-Man, and you almost never failed to let Sunghoon know that.
You had a pretty simple reason: even if Spider-Man was a crime-fighter, the way that he was publicized made him more like a celebrity than a public servant. Because of this, people chose to commit more crime in the hopes of getting some sort of attention, which completely defeated the purpose of having a crime-fighter like Spider-Man.
Sunghoon was mere weeks into his job as Spider-Man, in the middle of bandaging up the cut on his hand that he got from fighting crime, when you suddenly barged into your apartment, throwing your bag aside as you exasperatedly began ranting about how a run-in with Spider-Man caused complete and utter hell for you when you commuted back from work. 
Many months later you still carried that sentiment.
And if he had to be honest, Sunghoon had to agree with you.
It wasn't like he detested being Spider-Man. After all, it paid his bills and allowed him to watch over you and make sure that you were safe. But, still, he wasn't a fan of the media coverage.
All he wanted to do was protect you and Riki. Was that too much to ask for?
Would Sunghoon ever tell you that he was Spider-Man? Probably not. Would you be mad at him for being Spider-Man? Probably. But would you shun him? Maybe for a month, but not any longer. Still, Sunghoon wasn't afraid of going no-contact with you for a month. It was the fear of disappointing you and losing your trust.
He'd rather die than lose your trust!
But sometimes it was difficult to conceal his identity.
Like right now.
The day went on as per usual: Sunghoon played around more with Riki, before taking him to daycare. Then, Sunghoon went to do his Spider-Man activities, before picking Riki up again. It was the end of a stressful week, so you came home early and announced that you made dinner plans for the three of you.
And that's how Sunghoon found himself sitting in a fancy dimly-lit restaurant. Across from him sat you, wearing a dress that made him stare at you for a little longer than he should have. 
Maybe it was the jazz music playing in the background, or the way that your gloss-laden lips clung to the delicate glass of champagne that you swished in your hand, but Sunghoon couldn't take his eyes off of you. 
Thanks to the fact that Riki was sitting at the table with his baby high-chair, two of the waiting staff had already mistaken you and Sunghoon for a married couple. Not that Sunghoon minded. And it didn't seem like you minded either, because all you did was throw your head back with a laugh and clutch Sunghoon's arm.
In fact, if Sunghoon had to be honest, you've been confusing him lately.
Or maybe he was confusing himself.
Because he swore that your eyes have been lingering on him lately, running over his figure from time to time before you cracked that little smug grin on your face— the type of grin that made Sunghoon shrink into himself. You've been touchier, holding his arm in the crook right in between your chest, almost like you knew that it would make him nervous. You began picking up this habit of looking at his lips, then gazing back up at his eyes, before licking your own lips with a smile. It was driving him crazy.
Why was he feeling this way?
And more importantly, why were you torturing him like this? You were a mother, you were someone well-respected and feared in your workplace because of your sheer ability to read people. You knew your effect on people, so you must know what you were doing to him. Right?
"Sunghooooon," you sang, resting your face on your hands, propped up in a way that made it impossible to ignore how good you looked tonight. Sunghoon was pulled out of his thoughts, his eyes quivering over to you. "What're you thinking about?"
Sunghoon blinked a few times. "Nothing."
You rolled your eyes playfully, reaching across the table to gently hit his hand. "Don't lie to me. I know when there's something on your mind."
"Lie!" Riki giggled, repeating your words like a little parrot. "Lie! Lie!"
"See?" you ruffled your son's hair. "Even Riki agrees. What's up?"
Sunghoon opened his mouth to speak, but he was distracted when you reached for your glass of sparkly champagne once more, bringing it up to your lips. 
"What?" you cocked a brow at him as he stared at you. "We drank with each other last night. What's so surprising about me drinking right now?"
Sunghoon gulped. 
You were scary like that, always so straightforward. It made him piss himself, but it also made him want to melt into a pile of mush. 
"It's nothing." He cleared his throat. "I'm just stressed about work."
"Awww," you frowned. "What happened?"
Sunghoon was talking straight out of his ass, because you reached over the table, beginning to play with his hands. Your eyes were trained on the shapes that you drew on his palms, but you hummed from time to time as words tumbled out of his mouth.
You had to be doing this on purpose.
It was weird, because Sunghoon never felt this way around you. What he felt toward you was quiet, something that was a basic fact to him. But now, all he could do was watch as you fed Riki airplane-style, making funny airplane engine noises as your baby laughed, trying to calm the beating of his heart.
Why did you have so be so attractive? Why was he feeling so warm?
It was a peaceful dinner, save for the war beginning to bubble inside of Sunghoon.
That was, until a loud crash rang through the restaurant. Then, there were whispers, car sirens, and at last, shrieking. The jazz music stopped as a hush fell over the restaurant. 
Your first instinct was to take Riki out of his high-chair and into your arms, so you did that.
But the moment that you brought your eyes up to where Sunghoon should have been, he was gone.
Like, absolutely gone.
His seat was empty. His plate of food, as fell as his folded cloth napkin and silver cutlery, were left exactly as you last remembered. Sunghoon simply disappeared all of a sudden.
But before you could even say his name, another crash rang through the restaurant as someone screeched, "Giganto!"
Giganto was a self-proclaimed supervillain on the rise. The last time that you heard about him was a few months ago, when he tried to pull off some stupid scheme to take down Spider-Man. It was a pathetic attempt. But now he was back, with admittedly impressive equipment and a nasty spandex suit.
Based on your understanding of the layout of the restaurant, it seems like the front portion of it was crashed into. Which meant that the front entrance was 100% not an option. 
And that became even more apparent to you when Giganto, in his pink spandex glory, began cackling villainously, announcing his arrival. What he said in his very unnecessary villain monologue was unknown to you, because you were too distracted by Riki, who was beginning to tear up in fear.
"Shh, shh," you held your son against your shoulder, your hand coming up to cup his ear. You pressed kisses on his face, petting his hair in an attempt to calm him down. "Baby, Baby it's okay. We're okay. Don't cry, Mama's here—"
"Run!" someone shrieked as another contraption began prowling into the restaurant. It was massive and made of some metal, some sort of machine that Giganto probably made to assert his dominance. It didn't matter to you. What did matter was the two people that you cared about: Riki, and.... hey, where's Sunghoon?
Your feet were just about to start moving when your eyes glazed over Sunghoon's still-empty seat. Your heart dropped to your stomach.
"Sunghoon?" you said to yourself, your eyes wide as they flickered around the slowly-crumbling restaurant for any familiar sign of your best friend. "Sunghoon!"
"Hoo!" Riki cried out.
You couldn't find him, amidst all the dust and hoards of people running past you.
You felt Riki's tears wet your shoulder.
You had to get out of here, if you wanted to save yourself and Riki.
But Sunghoon...
If you did not start running now, you would die. Riki would die.
I'm sorry, Sunghoon, you squeezed your eyes shut, before your feet picked up. You ran, you ran as fast as you could, trying your best to ignore your motherly instinct to stop and kiss Riki as he wailed. You didn't even realize it until your face was wet that you, too, were crying.
It could be fear, it could be uncertainty, it could be because your own son was sobbing. Or maybe it was guilt. Guilt because you could have waited for Sunghoon, but didn't.
Guilt, because you made it out of the crumbling restaurant, but Sunghoon did not.
Guilt, because you left your best friend to die.
You didn't know how long you ran, but you ran far enough that you could no longer hear the helicopters and screaming, only your and Riki's sniffles.
"Shhh," you shakily consoled Riki, rubbing circles on his back, doing your best to ignore the weight on your chest. "It's okay, Baby. We're okay."
But you knew you weren't. Not after what happened back there.
How could you abandon him back there, when he's done everything for you? How could you do him like that, as if he wasn't the sole reason that you weren't dead in a ditch right now? You were a horrible friend, and an even worse person for letting that happen.
All of a sudden, you were lifted off your feet. Literally. One moment you were walking under a streetlight, the next you were in the air.
"S-Spider-Man?!"
With one hand wrapped tightly around Riki, your other hand came up to grip the hero's bicep. Your stomach did flips as you looked down, seeing the city beneath you.
"Hey there," his voice was solemn.
"Where the—" you squeezed your eyes shut as you peered down— "Where the hell are you taking us?"
You felt Spider-Man tense under your touch, almost like he was wincing.
"I-I'm taking you home."
Your eyes narrowed. 
Was it normal for a superhero to be stuttering as they save a civilian?
"And you're taking me home because you know where I live? How?" You felt bad for being so cold, for being so incredibly frigid toward him, but you couldn't let your guard down. Not when you were 100 meters in the air holding your son. Not when you already lost Sunghoon back there.
"I don't," Spider-Man quipped quickly. It was now that you noticed the cut on his shoulder, with dark red blood seeping out and exposing his skin. "Will you show me the way?"
You glanced down at Riki, who was now beginning to fall asleep. He was unlike you in the way that he liked thrill, even when he was just a little baby
You couldn’t say that you were happy with who Spider-Man was, but you were not going to reject the help he was giving you right now. Not when your son was on the line.
You huffed. “Make a turn right here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Spider-Man muttered.
You did not know why, but it seemed like the sound of the hero’s voice made Riki stir.
“Hoo,” Riki babbled sleepily. “Hoo…”
Sunghoon.
Again, you felt Spider-Man tense.
“My friend…” you began, swallowing your pride. “His name is Sunghoon. I-I couldn’t find him back there.”
Spider-Man hummed.
“Can you… I mean— Do you think you can look for him? I’m really worried.
Spider-Man gazed at you, looking at you with his masked face. For some reason, you thought that he was grinning behind the mask, and you almost began shouting at him. But the hero only nodded, saying, “I promise you that he’s safe, Ma’am.”
You looked at him pensively, doubt painted across your expression as you chewed on your lip.
“But if it makes you feel better I’ll look for him.”
You nodded slowly, still doubtful.
The rest of the trip to your apartment is quiet.
Sunghoon 100% expected you to start yelling at him the moment he appeared in your apartment doorway. And he 100% was going to smile through all thirty minutes of it.
“You’re so fucking stupid, why did you disappear like that?! Do you know how much that scared me?! I thought I lost you and you died, Oh my God you’re so fucking annoying, I was losing my mind—“
Sunghoon was laughing at you as you lightly punched his arms, his sharp canine teeth peeking through, when he noticed the glassy sheen over your eyes. 
You had tears in your eyes, hot tears that you were blinking back as worried words spilled from your lips. Immediately, Sunghoon stopped his laughing, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close.
He was happy that you cared about him so much, unable to hide the way his lips still pulled upwards as you pressed your face into his chest.
It was late at night by now. Riki was already sound asleep. There was something about the way you sobbed in his arms that warmed his heart, that someone as strong as you would allow him the privilege of seeing you tremble. 
"I didn't know you cared so much, [Name]," Sunghoon teased. He expected you to hit him again, tell him to shut up, and maybe bite back a laugh, but all you did was shake your head.
"No," you murmured against his shirt. "I failed you."
"What're you talking about?" Sunghoon squeezed your shoulder. "You didn't fail anyone."
"No..." you squeezed your eyes shut, clinging onto Sunghoon even harder. You stayed like that for a little bit, simply holding the man in your arms like he'd disappear. Then, you pulled away, letting your gaze meet his. "I... I ran away when I should have waited for you."
Sunghoon only stared at you confused.
You licked your lips, your expression pinching. "I-I got scared so I ran, I ran so far away a-and—" you let out a heavy breath, pushing your face into your hands— "I-I'm such a shitty friend, Sunghoon."
Sunghoon blinked.
.
.
.
Oh!
Sunghoon remembered now, the way he disappeared from the face of earth the moment that disaster struck. One moment he was trying to breathe when you looked at him, the next he was in a tight spandex suit. 
Of course you had to 'abandon' him. Sunghoon was Spider-Man! There was no way that you would be able to stay back to wait for him.
It should be easy to explain to you, that you could not have possibly been at fault, because the situation was already imbalanced to begin with.
But there was just one little problem!
How was Sunghoon going to explain this to you without revealing that he's Spider-Man?
Sunghoon pulled his lip between his teeth, unable to hide the awkward-panicked expression painting itself on his features as you cried into his shoulder.
Curse you for being such a caring person, he sucked in a sharp breath. 
He didn't like seeing you cry, so he needed to dig himself out of this one soon.
What the hell was he supposed to say now?
"D-Don't cry," Sunghoon's lips moved on their own. "It's not your fault."
"It is though!" you cried.
"No..." Sunghoon let his panic mode take over. Quick, he needed to make something up. "I-I... It was my fault. I.. uhh..."
The man's eyes darted over to the kitchen, where in the rack lay plates, bowls, and Riki's baby utensils.
Ah, Riki.
It was a small inside joke between Sunghoon and you that Riki was always gassy. After all, he was a baby.
"I needed to use the bathroom really badly," Sunghoon swallowed all his pride. "A-And I was there the entire time... because it was really bad."
You pulled away from him, taking a look at his face. If it wasn't for the awkward topic at hand, you'd call out how uncomfortable he looked. Your brows furrowed, confused.
"What are you talking about?"
Sunghoon blinked a few times. "There was no way that you could have waited for me... I was in the bathroom the entire time..."
"Doing what?"
"You know..." Sunghoon felt his face warm up. "Doin' my business..."
"Oh."
.
.
.
Sunghoon wanted the floor to open up below him and eat him whole, because within seconds, your distressed, pained crying face melted into a massive smile. You threw your head back, your eyes crinkling into thin crescents, sweet laughs mixed with sniffles spilling out of your lips.
Sunghoon stood there, ears and cheeks pink, with his dignity shattered in his hands. He wanted to die, yes, but it made him feel better than you were no longer crying, just laughing. He couldn't help but feel a grin grow on his face.
"I'm sorry, Sunghoon," you squeezed his shoulders, wiping your eyes-- tears not from crying earlier but from laughing so hard. The way you brought your hand up to ruffle his hair, a reassuring smile on your face, made Sunghoon feel like a child, only furthering his embarrassment. "I didn't mean to laugh."
Sunghoon's lips pulled downward, forming an unintentional pout.
"Awww," you patted his head even more, "I appreciate your honesty. It takes a lot of courage to admit that."
It was definitely hard to stay embarrassed when you were so gentle about it, reassuring him every other sentence that you weren't judging him.
Sure, Sunghoon just embarrassed himself in front of you, but it was better than having to see you cry over something that you had no agency over to begin with.
Anything for you.
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"Papa!"
"R-Riki, I'm not your-"
"Papa!"
No, no, no! This cannot be happening right now!
It was another afternoon of looking after Riki. 
Riki just got back from daycare, and took a long and cozy nap. Sunghoon shook him awake an hour later. However, instead of Riki's wide owlish eyes blinking a few times before recognizing Sunghoon's face, exclaiming "Hoo!" as he always did, Riki seemed to learn a new word.
"Papa!"
Papa.
Riki knew the word mama. Of course he did, he knew you.
However, from the beginning, Riki never knew his own legal father, Taehyun. Sure, Taehyun dropped by ever-so-often, but he was no more than a stranger to Riki than a random person on the street.
Riki never says papa. 
But now he just called Sunghoon papa.
Sunghoon had been spending the past 10 minutes trying to get Riki to call him Hoo again, but it seemed like nothing would work.
Sunghoon held both of Riki's tiny hands.
"I'm Hoo," Sunghoon said slowly. "Say it to me, Riki. Say Hoo."
"H.... H..." Riki began.
"That's right, you're almost there."
"H...H..." Riki's expression pinched. "Papa!"
"No!"
Truth be told, Sunghoon wanted to cry.
Riki calling him Papa and basically recognizing him as his father figure? The thought of it made Sunghoon tear up already.
He always tried his best to be there for you and Riki. To say that you and Riki were the joys of his life would be an understatement; Sunghoon did everything, even undertaking sketchy hero jobs, for the sake of you two. It wasn't like he expected anything in exchange. In fact, Sunghoon didn't even expect to be considered part of the family.
"Papa!"
"Riki..." Sunghoon's chest tightened at the little proud smile painted across Riki's face. "Riki, I'm not your—"
Ding dong! the doorbell rang. 
Leaving Riki on the couch, Sunghoon opened the door without a thought.
Big mistake.
Because the person standing loud and proud at the door was the worst person that Sunghoon could think of.
"T-Taehyun?"
Taehyun Kang, the legal father of Riki, and also your slightly-obsessed ex-boyfriend.
Sunghoon gave Taehyun a once-over. Taehyun was dressed in a crisp dress-shirt, almost as if he was dressed up for a date. He held a bouquet of flowers, his hair slicked back neatly. 
The moment that Taehyun's eyes fell upon Sunghoon, his eyes narrowed, something that wasn't surprising. You and Taehyun dated for a few years, and during those years you were friends with Sunghoon, too. Taehyun was always malicious towards Sunghoon, something that both you and Sunghoon never understood.
Sunghoon was in love with you, yes, and that love extended to respecting you and your relationships. He never did anything in all the years that you were with Taehyun.
"What are you doing here?" Taehyun spat.
"I'm—"
Taehyun pushed past Sunghoon, stepping through the doorway. "Whatever, where's [Name]?"
"She's—"
"Papa!"
Shit.
Taehyun perked up at the sound of Riki's voice, rushing to the living room and throwing the bouquet aside. Taehyun scooped Riki up into his arms as he coddled him dramatically, exclaiming, "Why didn't you tell me he learned that word?"
Sunghoon's heart sank. Was it bad that he felt a twinge of jealousy? Maybe Riki said papa and thought of Taehyun and not him. After all, Taehyun was supposed to be his father, not Sunghoon. But still. Did Taehyun spend nearly every waking minute with Riki? Did Taehyun put in any effort to spend time with Riki, other than a visit every three months? Has Taehyun ever even changed Riki's diapers? Brush his teeth? Make him breakfast?
Sunghoon felt his blood boil as Taehyun pranced around your apartment— the apartment that he had no right to claim— with Riki in his arms, saying that he was anything close to being Riki's papa.
"Tae!" Sunghoon could hear Riki exclaim from the other room.
"No, Riki," Taehyun said. "You said it earlier. I'm papa."
"Tae!"
"Say Papa, Riki."
"P... P.... Tae!"
Taehyun barged back into the living room, where Sunghoon sat patiently. The moment that Riki saw Sunghoon's face, he cried, "Papa!"
"He just said it again!" Taehyun was bright, but his face fell the moment that he saw Riki's grabby hands at Sunghoon, coupled with the way that Riki squirmed in his hold. Taehyun whipped his head around. He pointed an accusatory finger at Sunghoon. "You!"
"Papa!" Riki said, this time smiling brightly at Sunghoon, something that he hadn't done once at Taehyun.
Sunghoon couldn't help but bask in the sick satisfaction he felt, but he hid it under a scowl. "What?"
"You're stealing my family," Taehyun claimed, his expression painted with anger. 
"I'm not," Sunghoon said calmly.
"You think I'm stupid?" Taehyun pressed, placing Riki down. "I know that you've been in love with [Name] since the beginning, and just because me and her are on a break, you think that you can just swoop in and play Prince Charming."
"I—"
"No, I know!" Taehyun raised his voice. Riki hated it when people raised their voice, silently cowering into himself. Taehyun would have known that if he put any ounce of effort into Riki. "I don't know what you did to Riki, to make him think that you're his father, but it's fucked up. You're fucked up. You will never be a part of this family."
Sunghoon stayed silent for a few moments. The air was tense, so silent that the only audible sound was the sound of Riki's breath.
Sunghoon sucked in a sharp breath.
"What's Riki's favorite color?" was all he said.
"W-What?"
"I asked," Sunghoon looked at Taehyun boredly. "What's Riki's favorite color?"
Taehyun's eyebrows crashed together. "Why does that matter?"
"You're his dad, aren't you?" Sunghoon said simply. "You should know."
Taehyun's expression stayed scrunched together, but no words fell from his lips.
That's right, he doesn't fucking know.
"It's black." Sunghoon got up to where Riki was, scooping him up into his arms, to which Riki giggled and exclaimed Papa! quietly. "Did you know that Riki needs to hold a stuffed toy to sleep? Did you know that his favorite one is a stuffed dog named Bisco? Did you know that Riki's favorite song is Beat It by Michael Jackson?"
Sunghoon stroked Riki's hair, relishing in the way Taehyun dug his nails into his palms, his ears burning red. "Taehyun, what's Riki's dominant hand?"
Taehyun gulped. "Isn't he right-handed?"
"Nope," Sunghoon couldn't hide the satisfied grin on his face. "He's left-handed. In fact, he is allergic to the chrysanthemums that you brought over there."
The room went silent for a few more pulses.
"I might not be Riki's father, but you aren't either," Sunghoon said calmly, strolling over to the front door. "Please get out."
Taehyun never left quicker (and he took the flowers, too).
The apartment was quiet again.
Sunghoon didn't know how to feel.
He would be lying if he said that Taehyun's words didn't get to him. 
But Sunghoon also felt anger and satisfaction. Taehyun had no right to call himself a part of your family. He made you suffer, both in the past and now. He was a shitty co-parent and an even shittier dad to Riki. Sunghoon hoped that Taehyun understood his place now.
"Papa..." Riki murmured as he crawled toward Sunghoon, nuzzling his cheek into Sunghoon's hand that came up to cup his face.
"That's right," Sunghoon whispered. "Papa's here."
The day went on as normal after that fiasco.
At least, that's what Sunghoon thought.
Because after putting Riki to bed, you led Sunghoon into your bedroom.You locked the door, making Sunghoon gulp.
The serious expression on your face, and the way that you crossed your arms over your chest, freaked him out.
"Sit down." And he did so immediately, sitting his ass down on the bed the moment those words left your lips.
Sunghoon felt like he was a child about to be scolded. He chewed on his bottom lip, wringing his fingers as he carefully watched your standing figure.
"I got a call from Taehyun earlier," you said, your back turned to him.
Shit.
"Said that you were being disrespectful and brainwashing Riki." Sunghoon gulped as you glanced over your shoulder, your eyebrow cocked. "Care to explain?"
"I... I..." Sunghoon's mouth felt dry as he scrambled to gather words. "R-Riki started calling me p... papa, and Taehyun thought that I was brainwashing Riki into thinking that I was his dad, or something..."
You clicked your tongue, about to say something, but Sunghoon continued.
"I just— I just told him that he should be around more if he wanted... if he wanted Riki to call him papa," he added quickly, a grimace falling upon his expression, wincing with the way you took a deep breath.
Did Sunghoon overstep boundaries? It wasn't like you loved Taehyun— in fact you've been done with him for a while now— but it was an irrefutable fact that Taehyun was there before Sunghoon. Was Sunghoon wrong in thinking that he was even a part of your family? Was he getting ahead of himself? What if both you and Riki saw Taehyun as Riki's father figure and not him?
"Hey," Sunghoon was pulled out of his thoughts when you put a hand on his shoulder. "Relax. I'm not mad at you."
"Y-You aren't?"
You scoffed. "Of course not."
You rubbed your temples. "I'm more mad at Taehyun for barging in and causing a ruckus. Did he say anything else?"
"He said..." Sunghoon bit down on his bottom lip. Should he tell you this? "Never mind."
Your brows furrowed, pressing further. "What did he say?"
You sat down beside Sunghoon on the bed, noticing the way a deep frown painted itself on his features. You took his hand into yours, squeezing it. "I'm on your side, Sunghoon. I won't be mad."
Sunghoon licked his lips. "Just that... I will never be a part of your family."
He continued before you could respond. "I don't think I am... It just bothered me a little bit."
Your face scrunched, before you pushed Sunghoon's shoulder so that he laid down on the bed. You took his head onto your lap, gently running your fingers through his hair. Sunghoon let out a surprised squeak, shuddering at the feeling of your fingers. He pursed his lips, unable to hide his flustered expression.
Your face scrunched, before you pushed Sunghoon's shoulder so that he laid down on the bed. You took his head onto your lap, gently running your fingers through his hair. Sunghoon let out a surprised squeak, shuddering at the feeling of your fingers. He pursed his lips, unable to hide his flustered expression.
"You don't think that you're a part of this family?" you asked, your voice quiet. Sunghoon could hear the hurt in your voice.
"I..." You aren't going to bite, you never do. "I'd like to be... but it's not my place to say whether or not I am."
You clicked your tongue, anger rising in your tone. "And it's Taehyun's place to?"
"W-Well—"
"When has he ever done anything for this family?" your voice was filled with indignation, but your hands stayed gentle in his hair. "Taehyun will never be even half the man that you are, Sunghoon. He'll never do any of the things that you do, and that's because he's dead to this family."
You patted Sunghoon's cheek, making him look up at you. Your gaze softened, your lips curving up as you gazed at Sunghoon's wide, dark eyes. They were shiny, almost glossy, as if he was tearing up. "And I think Riki calling you papa is a testament to how much you mean to me and him. You're our family, Sunghoon."
The room was silent again. You and Sunghoon stayed like that, gazing at each other for what felt like years. 
You felt all types of emotions, the main one being sheer anger. Who did Taehyun think he was? And even more importantly, how dare he take his audacity and hurt Sunghoon?
Sunghoon was your savior, he really was. You had no idea what you would do without him.
Watching as he tried to discreetly wipe the tears in his eyes, you threw your head back, letting a few chuckles fall from your lips.
His earnesty, how willing he was to help, and his sensitive side were all things that you cherished about him; they were all things that made you fall in love with him.
You don't know when it happened, or when you realized that you, in fact, loved your best friend, but it didn't matter that much. 
It didn't help that Sunghoon was so painfully obvious. You didn't want to get too ahead of yourself, but you weren't stupid. You noticed Sunghoon staring at you for a little longer than he should, the way he got nervous whenever you touched him. It was adorable.
If you had less self-control, you would have grabbed Sunghoon's face and kissed him so hard that he'd see stars. After all, for all the little things you did in the hopes of driving him crazy, his wide eyes staring at you like you were some god drove you crazy.
Maybe it wouldn't hurt to loosen up a bit. 
After all, Sunghoon had to endure Taehyun and the trouble that he brought. He took it like a champ. 
He deserved a kiss, didn't he? For everything that he's done for you, for all the trouble that he's gone through. You figured he deserved a reward.
Slowly, you brushed Sunghoon's bangs away from his face, exposing his forehead. His shiny eyes followed you as you readjusted your position so that you laid beside him.
"[Name]?" his voice was a small whisper. God, you just wanted to eat him up.
You hummed, as you leaned closer to him. Sunghoon watched with fluttering eyes and a beating heart. Your face was inching so close to his that he was sure that you could hear how hard his heart was beating. 
Was it just him, or was it getting hot in here?
Sunghoon's stomach did a flip at the way you gazed at him with lidded eyes, your beautiful lips parted. Oh, if the sky didn't part open and swallow him whole right now. You were so close, so close that he could feel your breath on his cheek.
If you didn't pull away now, Sunghoon thought that his fingers, which were now getting sticky with webs that came out when he couldn't control his nerves, would shoot actual webs.
"Sunghoon," you finally said, your hand coming up to gently guide his face, making him look straight at you. He faltered under your gaze. 
"Y-Yes?"
There, you did it again— that thing where you glanced down at his lips for a few moments, before flickering back up to his eyes with a slight, smug grin. You were driving him crazy.
"Can I kis—"
Knock knock!
"Mama! Papa!"
Both you and Sunghoon immediately pulled away from each other, sitting up. You rushed to your bedroom door, opening it to find a tearful Riki (with Bisco his stuffed dog) in hand. You were quick to scoop him up, though you noticed the awkward expression on Sunghoon's face.
"What?"
How could you act like nothing happened?
"I-I—" Sunghoon stammered, his face bright red and his hair disheveled. He couldn't hide his disappointment now that you weren't close to him anymore.
You rolled your eyes playfully. "Calm down, you dork."
With that, you left the room to go comfort your son, leaving Sunghoon alone, his mind fried and his cheeks pink.
Except, you came back within a few moments, this time without Riki.
With one hand, you grabbed Sunghoon's shoulder. With the other, you took his face, taking the poor man by surprise. Gently, you pressed your lips onto the corner of his lips, placing down a soft, chaste kiss.
It was a short, innocent kiss, one that barely lasted a second.
But Sunghoon froze, his mind filled with nothing but you, you, you.
"Happy now?" you rasped against the shell of his ear before pulling away. You chuckled at the way Sunghoon watched you with eyes as big as saucers, his entire face and neck now red, so warm that you could feel it radiating off of him.
That was scary about you, how you could read him so easily. You had him in the palms of your hands, ready to eat him up and play with him like he was putty.
You got up to leave, but when you got to the doorway, you stopped. You turned over your shoulder, a sly grin spread across your face.
"By the way, Sunghoon," you purred. "You should probably come quick. Riki just had a nightmare. Think he needs both mama and papa."
Shit, you were going to kill him.
"Papa!"
No, no, no! This cannot be happening right now.
Why did Sunghoon agree to this?!
A few days ago, DK told Sunghoon about an absolutely appalling opportunity: a Spider-Man meet-and-greet.
Sunghoon didn't know what sick person had this idea, but he reluctantly agreed.
And that's how he found himself on a Saturday afternoon sitting at a Spider-Man fan convention. He could be at home, spending time with you and Riki, but no, he's here taking pictures with little kids. 
A few kids already spilt their juice and slushies on him. Mothers shoved their babies in his face, while squealing middle schoolers took the most indiscreet pictures of him. It was hot, and Sunghoon was getting tired of putting on his customer-service voice.
Just as Sunghoon was about to sigh for the nth time that afternoon, he spotted two familiar faces in line.
Yours and Riki's.
You looked annoyed, maybe just as annoyed as Sunghoon was feeling, while Riki had the brightest smile on his face.
When he realized that you and Riki were in line to meet him, Sunghoon tried his best to speed through all the pleasantries and selfies.
And at last, you were up next.
"Hi, Spider-Man," you said quietly through gritted teeth. It was obvious that you were only here because of Riki.
"Hi, ma'am," Sunghoon said as curtly as possible.
Your face scrunched, unable to hide your disdain for Sunghoon as Spider-Man. 
"Uh, this is Riki, my son," you said, carefully handing your son over to the hero. You sighed, reluctantly taking out your phone to snap a few pictures. "Riki really loves your work."
"Smile for the picture, Riki!" you said, and that's the only time that you've smiled in the past ten minutes.
And then, the worst words tumbled out of Riki's mouth.
"Papa!"
Um.
What?
Sunghoon should have known. Last time, when he was carrying you and Riki through the sky, Riki recognized him as "Hoo" almost immediately.
And now, it seemed like Riki could still recognize him, this time as papa.
Sunghoon tensed up, and he froze up even more when Riki began to snuggle up against his blue and red - clad chest, giggling, "Papa!"
You looked horrified, your mouth agape and your brows knitted together.
"I-I'm so sorry, Spider-Man," you stammered, taking Riki back into your arms. "I don't know what's gotten into him."
"It's— ahem— fine," Sunghoon quipped. "Have a nice day, ma'am."
Sunghoon found himself frowning the entire time, until he checked his phone.
[name]: spiderman wants to be you so bad 
[name]: riki called him papa
[name]: sorry but youre the only papa i know
He couldn't help but chuckle at that.
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Sunghoon has been acting strange.
You knew it better than anyone else. 
It all started after another city-wide crisis. Giganto, the mad supervillain that Spider-Man's been fighting with for months, spread some contaminant in the water supply. This could have been avoided if Spider-Man just left the city, but alas, a few people had to be hospitalized. After that, the city's crime rate ran up the walls.
It wasn't difficult to notice it, the way Sunghoon's face scrunched up like he was deep in thought more often than not, the way he was quick to object you going out to the convenience store after dark, the way that he disappeared for a few hours at a time, suspiciously aligning with news reports, and most noticeably, the way that Sunghoon winced every time that you named Spider-Man.
You weren't stupid. In fact, you couldn't tell if you could just read Sunghoon well, or if he was just horrible at hiding how he felt.
As of now, you had a few suspicions, but all of them centered around one thing: Sunghoon had some affiliation with Spider-Man. He had to have, it was the only thing that made sense.
"I really don't think you should, [Name]," Sunghoon reasoned with you one night, his hands buried in his hair. 
"Why not?" Tonight, you wanted to test the waters even more. Sunghoon seemed to get antsy whenever you went out at night alone. "I'm just going to get groceries. We ran out of eggs."
You had your back turned to him as you jammed your feet into your shoes, but you listened closely to the worry in his voice.
"I-I can go get it tomorrow morning," he stumbled over his words. 
"What difference does that make?" you pressed. "Eggs that I buy at night are the same as eggs that you buy in the morning."
You reached for the door. "I'll be back in 20, promise."
You didn't know what switch flipped, but it seemed like as the door hinges turned, Sunghoon reached for your hand so fast that you didn't even see him moving. Has he always been that fast?
His grip was firm.
"I'll go with you," Sunghoon said solemnly.
You narrowed your eyes. "Suit yourself."
That was your tactic, pushing Sunghoon's limit until he had no choice but to take action. 
He was iffy about you going out at night, so you made sure to do it more often. Each time, he insisted that he went with you. It was funny, because he'd follow you like a guard dog, so willing to fight anyone that even so much as looked in your direction.
"Relax, it's just some kid."
"He looked at you funny."
"He looks like he's nine years old. He is not an assailant."
"But he can be."
You didn’t mind that Sunghoon wanted to go with you. It gave you an excuse to hold his hand, and snuggle up against his side in the cold hair. Sometimes, he’d give you his jacket, and you got to be engulfed in his scent. As long as you got to spend time with him, you figured that you didn't mind.
It was now that you realized just how strong Sunghoon was. He carried bags of groceries like it was nothing, and when you and him kicked pebbles along the sidewalk, he kicked his pebble with such minimal effort, yet it still somehow flung across the street at lightning speed.
But along with sticking with you at night, he texted you a lot more during the day, asking if you were okay. Did he think that you wouldn't notice?
What threw you off even more was when he randomly caught a fly with his bare hands, crushing the poor thing right between his fingertips like it was nothing. Since when did he have such precision?
Sunghoon has been acting strange, and you were going to get to the bottom of it.
Sunghoon narrowed his eyes at his phone screen for what felt like the millionth time this week. 
It was noon now, Riki was at daycare and you were at work. 
It was no secret that the crime rate was rising at an alarming rate. Sunghoon found himself fighting crime after crime, nearly blowing his cover multiple times.
As Sunghoon swung from building to building, he gazed down at the cityscape. It was still early in the day. He could see school children playing ball, laughing as if there wasn't a robbery just down the street. Businessmen in crisp suits pranced around the sidewalks like they owned the place, while public transitters waited around for the bus.
It was still crazy to him, how any one of these people could be the next person that he had to fatefully stop from committing a crime. 
The only good things about being Spider-Man, at this rate, was that he could easily watch over you throughout the day and that he could help people. If he got another microphone shoved in his face, Sunghoon might become the criminal.
"Are you serious?!" Sunghoon couldn't help but exclaim as he peered over the ledge. 
He was on his daily patrol, checking alleyways and stopping muggers, when he spotted a child, no older than ten, getting robbed. 
Seriously? A child?
Sunghoon sighed.
"Oi!" Sunghoon shouted as he swung down, extending his leg so that he could land an easy kick on the assailant's cheek. Maybe Sunghoon put a little too much force, because he swore he heard a cracking noise. As he landed, he made sure to stand in front of the child, shielding him from the assailant.
"Hey man," Sunghoon said smoothly, yet even through his masked face his contempt was apparent. "You realize this kid is like seven, right? Stop trying to rob children."
The assailant groaned in pain, still keeled over on the ground, so Sunghoon took that moment to usher the child away, leaving the two in the alleyway. 
The assailant was holding his nose, and that was when Sunghoon realized that he was bleeding.
He looked up at Sunghoon angrily, stumbling to his feet. "You broke my nose!"
Sunghoon shrugged. "You attack children. What about it?"
The assailant growled angrily, fumbling with the knife in his pocket as he charged toward Sunghoon.
Sunghoon sighed, rolling his eyes.
With the amount of media coverage Spider-Man got, he would expect people to understand by now that attacking him head-on was just impossible. Every single headline boasted about Spider-Man's super-human abilities, yet here people were, acting dumb as fuck.
Almost like Sunghoon could see movement in slow-motion, mere milliseconds before his assailant collided with him, he shot a web at the wall, flinging himself up to the wall. 
"C'mon man," Sunghoon taunted. "You're faster than that."
Before the man could respond, Sunghoon swung down and kicked him in the abdomen. He tried to get back up and land a stab at Sunghoon, but alas, he was too slow.
"I'm serious," Sunghoon chuckled, but behind his mask he was completely blank-faced, nearly bored. "You need to be a little faster if you wanna catch up to me."
With one more kick to the stomach, the man was down for good. Sunghoon dialed the police, and with that, he left.
Because he had witnessed a child get mugged earlier, Sunghoon's first instinct was to check up on Riki's daycare.
Sure, Riki was basically a baby, but the thought of a child being attacked made Sunghoon a little worried for him.
In fact, the thought of Riki being in danger made Sunghoon worried about you. Should he go check up on your office too?
Sunghoon's sure that you've noticed by now, how increasingly nervous he got about your safety. At first, he tried to conceal it better, but it got harder as crime increased.
If Sunghoon had superhuman levels of hearing, his ability to identify your voice from miles away must have been god tier.
Sunghoon clung to the walls of your office building, pressing his chest against the hard brick in order to not be as obvious. Stealthily crawling against the wall, Sunghoon finally found the window right where your office was.
Peering inside, Sunghoon could see that you were talking with one of your colleagues. You were smiling, laughing from time to time. It must have been a friendly conversation.
Sunghoon pressed his ear against the wall, letting his enhanced hearing do the work for him.
"Do you have any plans this weekend?" your colleague asked, leaning on your desk.
You hummed, typing away and half-listening. "I'm spending time with my family."
Your colleague smiled. "You and Riki?"
You shook your head absent-mindedly. "Me, Riki, and Hoon."
Sunghoon cracked a grin.
"Oh? Who's Hoon?"
Your eyes flickered away from your computer screen. "Sunghoon? He's my...." you trailed off. What was Sunghoon to you?
"Your?" Your colleague looked at you expectantly, but when you bashfully smiled, she gasped. "Don’t tell me…”
"W-Well, I mean— He's a good friend—"
"Tsk, tsk, if he really was a good friend you wouldn't struggle so much to say that." Your colleague sat down. "Do you like him or something?"
"Of course I do. He's a good friend—"
"That's not what I meant."
You huffed. 
Sunghoon held his breath
"I think I... love him?" you said it like a question, but you didn't look uncertain. The rest of your conversation was pretty plain, just exchanging pleasantries and chuckles about family life.
Meanwhile, Sunghoon was completely zoned out. A gunshot could fire right beside him and even then he wouldn't be fully conscious and in his body.
You? 
Loved him?
Ohmygodyousaidthatyoulovedhim.
It was getting bad, how much those words affected him. Each time Sunghoon forced himself to recover mentally, your words would replay again in his head, making him squeeze his eyes shut and feel the heat rush back to his face. Sunghoon felt light-headed. If it weren't for the stickiness of his spiderwebs, Sunghoon would have fallen off the building by now.
Was he dreaming?
Sunghoon bit down on his lip to stop the dumb, dopey grin threatening to spill across his face, but alas, a simple glance at you through the window again had his heart jumping.
He felt like a high schooler, getting all giddy again as if no one has ever loved him before.
Well, it was true though. No one has ever loved him before, not in the way that you've loved him.
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Maybe Sunghoon was right for being so protective of you over the past few weeks.
You couldn't even bring yourself to be mad at this point, rather just amazed beyond words at the goddamn audacity of these people.
"I don't have money," you said simply, rolling your eyes.
"Are you sure about that, lady?"
You huffed. "Yes, I'm a single mother. You think I'm rich?— Ow, okay sorry."
You were just minding your own business, walking to the subway and thinking about how much you hated your boss, when you were pulled into an alleyway. You were lucky (if this could be considered lucky at all) that you were just getting mugged, who knows what else could have happened?
It was a group of three men, two holding you back and the other trying to extort you of your money. Unfortunately for them, you didn't have any cash on you.
The cold brick wall pressed harshly into your back, hard enough that you nearly winced in pain, but you made sure to show no signs of discomfort or struggle. That would make you seem weak, and if you wanted any chance of getting out unscathed, you should probably avoid showing any vulnerability.
"I can PayPal you," you said simply, your gaze bored.
"We want cash, lady."
You huffed. "I already said, I don't have cash on me. Do you have ApplePay?"
The men groaned.
You had a simple plan: continue to play dumb and keep suggesting alternative payment options to distract them, and when the time came, you'd land a kick to the crotch and make a run for it. A lot of people liked to pool at the convenience stores and bakeries nearby, so it shouldn't be difficult to catch their attention.
"What about Venmo?" you asked, your tone purposefully squeaky and annoying. "Or Zelle? I have a lot of money on Zelle."
You blinked at them, feigning some semblance of naivety, watching in near-satisfaction at the way their faces distorted incredulously.
And just as the three men shot each other looks, trying to reconvene, you realized that maybe your bit off more than you could chew. 
Maybe acting stupid wasn't the best idea, especially in the face of three people filled with the intent to rob you.
Slap!
Because the next thing you knew, your cheek was hot and prickling with pain, your eyes burning with tears from the sheer impact of that palm against your face.
Your jaw went slack in pure shock. Did they just—
Slap!
"Shut up, you bitch!"
Woah.
You opened your mouth to let out another witty response (which was probably already a bad idea to start with), but you're cut off when you're suddenly pushed all the way up against the hard brick wall. Your cheek was pressed against it; it was rough and cold.
Grubby hands patted you down, searching for any spare cash left in your pockets. You cringed as they searched through your long-discarded purse for the third time, only to find chapstick, lip gloss, and a bunch of cards. 
"Come on, woman, you need to have some money on you!" you heard one of them mutter, the rancid smell of cigarettes filling your nose. 
"I already said," you huffed, letting out a small yelp of pain as they shoved you against the wall again, your lip scraping against the rough brick. You tasted blood. "I don't have cash on me—"
They shoved you even harder this time, holding you by your head. Your entire cheek was pressed up against the wall, your eyes squeezing shut as pain shot through your head. Maybe you shouldn't have talked so much smack, because now you were feeling light-headed from the sheer impact.
You couldn't see what happened in the next few moments, but you were suddenly lifted in the air by strong arms, strong arms that almost felt familiar. You heard some yelling and shouting, and a few more sudden groans of pain. 
It took you a few moments to realize that it was a certain blue and red superhero scooping you up, and it took you even longer to realize that it was this same hero that had gently placed you up on the ledge, before going back down to the alley to wreak havoc on those men.
It was horrific, the way that Spider-Man raised his fists, crashing them down on these men so hard that you could see the dark red blood stains seeping onto his spandex costume. The painful cries, the sound of Spider-Man's fists making contact with their bodies, it was all a terrible sound.
You watched silently, slack-jawed.
Spider-Man always had a more action-packed fighting style, utilizing his webs and arsenal of abilities and gadgets to make a spectacle of his fights (whether intentional or not). 
Yet, here he was, using nothing but his bare hands to beat these men to a pulp.
It made your head hurt, everything. Even from the ledge high up, you could smell the must, blood, and sweat. It made you feel sick.
You could feel yourself lose all energy, deflating. You just wanted to go home, and feel your son and Sunghoon's warmth.
Riki, you thought as you watched in horror.
"Hoon," you whispered, barely audible even to yourself to the point that you didn't even realize that you said it.
Then, everything stopped, and suddenly you were up in the air again.
You mustered all the strength you had left in yourself to become aware of your surroundings. "Spider—"
"Don't talk."
So you didn't.
As you felt your mind cloud up, you could only think of a few things.
First, that your entire body had a subtle ache.
And second, that Spider-Man's voice sounded really familiar.
“Where were you? Why do you have a cut on your lip? Why were you out so late?” were the first words spilling out of Sunghoon’s mouth the moment you appeared in the doorway. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Why would you stay out when it’s dark—?”
You appreciated the concern, but you simply did not have it in you talk to him. You were exhausted, and even more mentally drained. You walk past him, ignoring Sunghoon's bombarding questions, completely oblivious to the way he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth, rubbing his bruised knuckles as his brows crashed together.
"Why aren't you answering me?" Sunghoon clutched your shoulder, his eyes filled with concern. You missed the ring of red around his eyes, too focused on your own bloody lips to see the even larger gash slowly healing on Sunghoon's cheek. His breath was heavy, almost like he'd been running around like crazy.
You let out an exasperated sigh, your tired eyes fluttering over to him. The events that transpired earlier were not a big deal to you, but it sure did suck the energy out of you.
Sunghoon cupped your cheek, taking your face into his hands. He studied your expression, brushing his finger against your cut lip. When you hissed at the sensation, Sunghoon sucked in a sharp breath, before his face pinched.
"This is why I told you not go out after dark—"
"Not right now, Sunghoon," you grumbled, pulling away from him. You let out another sigh. "I don't feel like having this conversation right now."
He reached out for you, but you turned on your heel, heading towards Riki's room.
"How's Riki?"
Sunghoon stared at you, before swiping his tongue over his lips. "I-I'm serious, [Name]. We can't keep having this conversation."
"Not right now," you repeated yourself, not even looking at him.
"No!" Sunghoon cried, his outburst making you stop and cock a brow at him. "We need this conversation now. Y-You— It's not safe anymore."
You narrowed your eyes at him.
"Just, don't go out anymore," he stumbled over his words, yet his face was solemn. "Please, just come home early. And if—And if you want to go out, I'll go with you."
Maybe it was because you were already having a bad day, or maybe you were just tired, but you felt anger begin to bubble inside of you.
These past few weeks, Sunghoon had been protective of you. It was endearing sometimes, but now it was getting ridiculous. You were capable of handling yourself, and if you weren't, that was your own responsibility to take care of, not his. You appreciated the concern, but not his visceral disapproval of any time you even decided to step outside.
"Sunghoon," you said calmly, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "I'm a grown woman. I can go outside by myself."
"No," he shook his head vehemently, taking your hands into his. "You don't get it. You don't know what's out there. It's not safe for you."
You tried your best. You really tried your hardest to swallow all the hot anger threatening to tumble out of your lips. You dug your nails into your palms, taking slow breaths as Sunghoon gave you a lengthy lecture about why you weren't prepared for the 'outside world' anymore.
It was difficult. You couldn't be angry that he cared about you, that he was so worried for your wellbeing. But as more words about how you couldn't possibly handle yourself outside were bleeding into your ears like shrill pots and pans to the point that it was unbearable to listen to.
"Am I weak to you, Sunghoon?" you finally interrupted him amidst his tangent.
"What? No, I—"
"Then why do you keep acting like I am?" No, you shouldn't be raising your voice at him like this, not when all he was doing was showing you how much he cared about you. Each word was calm, but you felt the venom seeping in with each syllable. "I'm tired of it all. I'm tired of how you act like I'm incapable of defending myself."
"But—"
"I don't want to hear it anymore," you grumbled, rubbing your temples and turning your back to him. "Please. I just want quiet right now."
The two of you stood in silence like that for a few pulses, the air tense— the most tense that the two of you have ever been.
The silence was broken when Sunghoon took in a deep breath, cracking the front door open, before stepping outside and quietly shutting it.
The entire apartment was deathly silent. With what remaining energy you had left, you retired to your room. The moment your back hit the mattress, your heavy eyelids shut.
Meanwhile, Sunghoon took a stroll along the apartment complex. The cool air kissed his cheek, running through his hair.
Was he wrong for worrying about you so much?
Should he have approached things differently?
How was he going to resolve this now?
Maybe Taehyun was right, that he was trying so hard to be a Prince Charming of sorts– your knight in Shining Armor.
It was never Sunghoon's intention to make you feel weak. 
He was just scared. When he saw you in that alleyway, his blood ran cold, and all he could think about was protecting you.
The mere thought of you getting even more hurt than you already were frightened Sunghoon.
Sunghoon wasn't sure how long he spent outside, but it was long enough for his skin to feel cold to the touch.
After collecting himself, Sunghoon had a plan to resolve this bump along the road: he'd go inside, apologize, and explain himself clearly. Anxiety gnawed at him from the inside out, but he knew he had to make things right.
But as Sunghoon made his way back to your apartment door, taking in a deep breath before he reached for the door handle and rehearsing what he wanted to tell you in his head, something interrupted his thoughts.
First, it was the sound of glass breaking.
Then, the sound of Riki crying, and at last, your screaming.
And when Sunghoon busted down the front door, he found the entire house empty, save for the shattered glass window of your bedroom.
"Shhh, Baby don't cry," you shakily breathed, holding Riki close to your chest. "It's okay, it's okay— Shhh."
The last thing you expected was to be kidnapped by Spider-Man's number one opponent, the supervillain Giganto.
But here you were, tied up at the hands and feet, trying to hush Riki’s wailing. You’re not sure where Giganto took you, but it looks like the local ice rink. The humming of the ice rink filled your ears, the icy frost beginning to rise in the facilities kissing your skin.
But here you were, tied up at the hands and feet, trying to hush Riki’s wailing. You’re not sure where Giganto took you, but it looks like the local ice rink. The humming of the ice rink filled your ears, the icy frost beginning to rise in the facilities kissing your skin.
It all happened so quickly that you could barely remember how you got here. The hair on your hands was standing up, a chill running down your spine. The entire facility felt empty, only the sound of your breathing and Riki's crying reverberating off the walls, but you knew better. Giganto took you here, so he must be nearby. You didn't even know why he wanted you to begin with, but now you had to deal with the reality of it.
You thought back to Sunghoon.
Wasn't this what he was warning you about? Why did you have to be influenced by your feelings like that? If you just listened to him and acted maturely, this could have been avoided... right?
You couldn't imagine how he felt now. He was just trying to protect you, and you just threw it back into his face. This was the second time that you were shitty to Sunghoon; how could you say that you loved him when all you did was be an asshole to him?
You would wallow in self-pity, but you had Riki to protect now.
Your eyes flickered around the dark and empty facility. Any moment now, Giganto could appear and kill you, or something.
You didn't know much about Giganto, other than that he had the ability to change sizes. That is, he could become very large or very small in an instant.
"Riki, breathe baby," you huffed, hoping that the fast beating of your heart would slow down soon enough for you to think straight. You swallowed the lump in your throat. For the first time ever, you wished that Spider-Man would come and save you from this maniac.
"Well, hello there."
Speak of the devil.
From the shadows emerged a man. He was in a skin-tight suit, with a mask hiding everything but his eyes and mouth, similar to Spider-Man. What made him stand out was the gadget in his hand. It was a gun-like gadget of some sort, glowing bright green.
You narrowed your eyes at him as goosebumps rose on your arms.
"Giganto," you questioned, your voice hoarse from screaming earlier, "Why did you take me here?"
The supervillain grinned, taking his time as he promenaded around the rink. Was he wearing ice-skates? How pompous.
"Is it that hard to figure out?" Giganto mused, his fingers running along the edge of his gadget. "Why don't you take a guess?"
You had no answer. The only thing that made sense was that you were a civilian and a resident of this city. What other connection to Giganto did you have other than that?
You stayed silent, holding Riki even closer to your chest as you realized that Giganto was walking— err, skating?— towards you. Your shoulders tensed, trying to pull your curled up legs to your chest.
"Relax, woman," the villain huffed. That's when you realized that he wasn't just holding that gadget, but various other... cones? They looked like those tiny plastic traffic cones at Riki's daycare. Giganto began to place them adjacent to you. "I'm just setting up for a game."
A game?
Just when you thought that Giganto probably forgot about your earlier question, he skated back to where he was previously.
"So, you have a guess yet?"
You would have said something witty, but you remembered what happened last time you tried to use your words to get out of something.
It was distracting you, the way that Giganto was paying extra attention to the gadget in his hands, brandishing it and shining the thing like it was a jewel.
And it seemed that he noticed this too.
“Oh this?” the villain threw his head back, letting out a laugh, a laugh that you knew too well to be fake because hey, working in an office with shitty coworkers and an even shittier boss made you receptive to it. “It’s just what I call a Size-inator!”
He let out another string of cartoonishly villainous laugh, nearly comical how enunciated it was. It was so ridiculous that Riki stopped crying, sending you a confused look. And when all you did was stare at him like he was a maniac, Giganto stopped laughing.
“Isn’t this impressive?” Giganto threw his hands up in the air. “Gee, you people are never satisfied.”
You nodded slowly. He looked so excited about this Size-inator, almost like he was just waiting for you to ask about it. You wouldn’t mind doing some talking. After all, it could buy you time and information.
“Right…” you nodded slowly. “So this Size-ometer-"
“Size-inator,” he corrected you.
“Yeah, yeah, this Size-er,” you waved him off, “What does it do?”
"Thought you'd never ask!" Giganto threw his hands up into the air theatrically. He snapped his fingers, and in an instant, all the lights turned off in the ice rink, only a spotlight shining over the villain. "The Size-inator is a device designed by moi. I can shoot whatever I want— he pointed the gadget to one of the cones he placed down, pulling the trigger. In an instant, the cone shrunk— "And it will change in size!"
"Pretty neat, isn't it?" he looked at you slyly.
You nodded slowly. "So it's a shrink ray, basically."
"Nuh-uh!" Giganto's outburst made you cock a brow at him. "It's a Size-inator!"
"Right."
.
.
.
"So... Where's Spider-Man?" Giganto asked, teetering on his ice-skates like a teenage girl waiting on her crush.
Your face scrunched.
Um.
How were you supposed to know?
"Uh, I don't know?" you said, your tone questioning your own certainty.
Giganto's face morphed into an incredulous one. He pointed an accusatory finger at you. "Don't lie to me, woman!"
You shook your head, shrugging vehemently. "I really don't!"
Giganto skated up to you, his ice-skates scraping up against the ice to make a shrill sound. He peered down at you, his eyes suspicious even through the mask.
"So you mean to tell me that you've coming home to the same apartment as Sungjoon Park everyday and you didn't know that he's Spider-Man?" the villain eyed you suspiciously.
Sungjoon Park?
"What are you talking about? I only know a Sunghoon Park—"
At the sound of Sunghoon's name, Riki stirred. 
"Papa!" he exclaimed, wriggling in your hold.
"Yeah, yeah, Sunghoon Park, or whatever," Giganto waved off. "You didn't know that he's Spider-Man this entire time?—" he pointed at Riki— "You have a child with him!"
Crash!
Before you could even process things, a massive crash rang throughout the entire facility, followed by the sound of car sirens going off and glass breaking.
"Oh! Gotta goooo!" Giganto sped away, summoning his other little gadgets, presumably to go check up on the commotion outside. "Don't you dare try to escape, woman! I'm always watching!"
And then you were left alone again, in the middle of a cold ice rink.
Tap, tap.
Sunghoon? 
Spider-Man?
Tap, tap.
You knew that Giganto was a maniac, but you didn't know that he was that insane.
Tap, tap.
That wouldn't make any sense.
Sunghoon might be associated with him somehow, but your own best friend as the Spider-Man?
No way.
Tap, tap.
And now that Giganto was gone—
Tap, tap.
That tapping sound was going to drive you crazy—!
"Pssst!"
You shot your head around. No one was there.
You looked in the other direction, then all around you. No one was there either.
"Look up here!"
You whipped your head up to the ceiling, where a massive opening had been created from the rubble. And lo and behold, there hung the one and only friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.
"C'mon, [Name]," he said, reaching out a hand to you, "Take my hand and we'll escape."
Your eyes widened into saucers, bulging out of your head. You swore that you've heard that voice before, and as you flashed through all of your memories, you could never recall an instance where Spider-Man's voice matched with that of Spider-Man. Instead, all the memories lined up with Sungh—
"Papa!" Riki cried.
That's something that you could never wrap your head around. Riki seemed to call only Sunghoon papa. Yet, he's been calling Spider-Man papa, too.
You kept your eyes trained on the hero's wide, white eyes, your mind running on its own while your mouth moved. 
"I-I'm tied up, Spider-Man," you stammered. 
A familiar voice, papa, a weird obsession with crime and safety, it all didn't make sense.
Spider-Man dropped down from the ceiling, carefully untying the ropes wrapped around your hands and feet.
"Are you okay?" the hero asked, helping you stand up with wobbly feet. To your surprise, Spider-Man clutched your chin, forcing you to look at him. In his other hand, he held Riki, to which Riki began snuggling up against his chest. And then, worried words streamed from his lips, in a tone that you knew all too well. "Did he do anything to you? Are you hurt? Can you stand?—"
For a split second, you thought you were going crazy. 
For a split second, his voice sounded exactly like Sunghoon's: with the same breathiness, the same cadence, and of course, the same exact concern that made your heart melt.
For a split second, you could almost see Sunghoon's thick eyebrows furrowing behind the mask, worry strewn all across his expression.
"Sunghoon?"
Spider-Man froze, going frigid all the while Riki continued to nuzzle his face in his strong chest.
Behind the mask, you could see almost exactly how Sunghoon would bite down on his tongue, his lips parting while his eyes flashed around the room; his nervous tick.
"Sunghoon," you whispered again, this time with a type of desperation that you never knew you had. You could feel your chest pounding, the sound of your heart thrumming against your ribcage filling your ears. "Sunghoon, please."
Please tell me it's you.
Slowly, you reached up to cup Spider-Man's face, and to your surprise, the hero leaned into your touch.
"[Name]," Spider-Man whispered shakily, so low that you could barely hear it.
Hearing it roll off his tongue, that confirmed everything that you needed to know.
Everything crashed down on your shoulders at once. You felt all types of emotions—confusion, anger, surprise, shock— but all of them fell short in the face of the overwhelming urge to throw your arms around his shoulders and feel his warmth.
But before you could, another crash rang through the facility. 
And there, standing at the doorway was Giganto, in all his spandex glory pointing his Size-inator right at you and Sunghoon.
"Don't you dare move!" his voice boomed.
"S-Sungh—" you felt a panic course through your veins. But, that panic was replaced by the feeling of strong hands around your waist.
"Don't worry," Sunghoon breathed against the shell of your ear. You could hear the grin in his voice. "I got this."
Everything crashed down on your shoulders at once. You felt all types of emotions—confusion, anger, surprise, shock— but all of them fell short in the face of the overwhelming urge to throw your arms around his shoulders and feel his warmth.
But before you could, another crash rang through the facility. 
And there, standing at the doorway was Giganto, in all his spandex glory pointing his Size-inator right at you and Sunghoon.
"Don't you dare move!" his voice boomed.
"S-Sungh—" you felt a panic course through your veins. But, that panic was replaced by the feeling of strong hands around your waist.
"Don't worry," Sunghoon breathed against the shell of your ear. You could hear the grin in his voice. "I got this."
Sunghoon shot a web back up at the ceiling where the opening was. 
Giganto loaded his shrink ray, and in that moment, you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for what was to come.
Yet, instead of feeling yourself shrink into oblivion, you felt your entire body lift up into the air, before being hoisted back to your feet.
"You don't trust me?" Sunghoon grinned into your ear, his hands still wrapped tightly around you.
You opened your eyes slowly. You were on a rooftop.
"Woah..."
With Riki back in your arms, you looked down to see the vast cityscape below your feet. The dark blue night sky was peppered with white splotches of stars and satellites. The lights were beautiful, so beautiful that you couldn't tear your eyes away from it.
The feeling of Sunghoon's warmth behind you, as well as Riki's little giggles, made you melt.
"W-Where are we?" you asked, your eyes still glued to the view.
"Far," Sunghoon breathed against your ear. Then, he pulled away from you, gently guiding you to a ledge in the inner perimeter of the rooftop. "Far from Giganto."
And as he began to slink away, your eyes widened, reaching out to him instinctively. "Where are you going?"
Sunghoon turned around. He ruffled Riki's hair, then brushed his gloved finger against your cheek. 
"I need to go fight Giganto," he said simply.
Before you could protest, Sunghoon clutched your chin, making you look at him.
"Well, you said that Spider-Man was useless," you could hear him grin behind the mask. "This is my one time to impress you. I'll beat him up really good, I promise."
His tone was light-hearted, trying to make you smile, yet you only chewed on your lip, looking on hesitantly. 
"I'll be safe," Sunghoon reassured you, leaning in closer to you. 
You looked at him with clouded eyes. "Are you sure? What if you get hurt?"
It was funny, how the roles were now reversed: now, it was you worrying about his safety.
"I'm strong," Sunghoon chuckled, flexing his bicep. "The strongest."
You still looked apprehensive, so Sunghoon leaned in even closer, cupping your cheek.
"Don't worry about me," he said lowly, his hands holding you like you were a delicate piece of glass. 
You swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, sucking in a sharp breath. You nodded your head, almost as if you were trying to convince yourself, before meeting his eyes.
The two of you stared into each other's eyes like that for a few pulses, getting lost in the comfort of each other, a momentary escape from reality.
And then, letting all of your inhibitions run free, you grabbed Sunghoon's masked face, and pressed a right where his lips were. You pulled away quickly, but this time, you had a determined look on your face.
Sunghoon stood there frozen, suddenly dazed as he brought a hand up to cover his mouth, flustered.
"Well?" you grumbled, averting your gaze. "What are you waiting for? Go impress me, Spider-Man."
Sunghoon never turned on his heel and began swinging away any faster.
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Sunghoon flushed as he heard you giggling from the other room.
He hated the media, he hated it so much.
But, he had to admit, he was grateful for all the news outlets this one time.
Because truth be told, they caught some pretty badass shots of him kicking Giganto's ass.
Not because Sunghoon personally wanted cool pictures of himself, but because now you and Riki were rewatching clips of the fight in the other room. Riki giggled, exclaiming every other second and clapping his hands cutely, while you cooed not just at his cuteness, but at the way Sunghoon's muscles flexed in each shot.
He had to admit, the camerawork made the fight look a lot more intense than it actually was.
What actually went down was pretty simple.
Giganto made Sunghoon play a game of some sorts, some supervillain version of laser-tag. Sunghoon was going to be in ice-skates, and he was going to have to evade Giganto's Size-inator. The villain chose ice-skating because apparently it was way harder to move around in ice-skates than not. However, he completely forgot two very important facts.
The first one was that Spider-Man was... Well, Spider-Man. Sunghoon's abilities were heightened to the max, so his reflexes and physical capabilities transcended whatever man-made gadget Giganto had.
The second one was that Sunghoon was kickass at ice-skating, all thanks to the many times that he'd gone with you and Riki. There was something about showing off how good he was in front of you, the literal love of his life, that shaped Sunghoon into the absolute pro at ice-skating that he was now.
It's safe to say, Giganto's defeat was pathetic. He was arrested, and his identity was revealed to be some corporate slave trying to reach stardom through criminal activities.
Sunghoon had to force himself to take deep breaths, stifling the stupid grin threatening to spread on his face as he heard you and Riki's giggles.
"Are you guys ready to go?" he poked his head in through the doorway. "Oh wow."
There you were, wearing a pretty dress that hugged your body a little too well. Sunghoon's jaw went slack as his eyes glazed over your figure, gulping audibly as you made your way over to him.
"Hey there, Handsome," you purred, sliding your hands up his chest.
"Hi." No matter how long he's known you, how many times he's seen you in a figure-hugging dress, how many times you've kissed him until he saw stars, Sunghoon felt like putty in your presence.
"I love you in this color," you mused. You were definitely doing it on purpose, running your nails against his arm and getting all touchy.
Sunghoon's mouth felt dry. Was it getting hot it here, or was it just him? "Th-Thank you."
Linking fingers with Sunghoon, you pushed your chest forward and up against his chest.
"You know," you breathed against his neck. You smelled so good, your scent filled Sunghoon's head deliciously. "I've been waiting for tonight all week."
Sunghoon's palms were getting sweaty, goosebumps rising on his skin and the hairs on his neck standing up. "R-Really?"
"Of course," you cooed, before pulling away. You did a little twirl for him, showing off your dress.
"I'm ready," you smiled, your glossy lips moving in a way that made Sunghoon feel light-headed. You looked delicately over your shoulder, bursting out laughing. When Sunghoon peered over your shoulder, he also couldn't help but let chuckles fall from his lips.
"Riki, baby, what are you doing?!"
Riki was dressed up, but poor baby must have been tired, as he was all curled up against the floor, dozing off like nothing else mattered.
Tonight was a family night.
The plan was to go out for dinner as a family, and after, go home and watch a movie. It was a simple plan, but a plan that made Sunghoon all giddy with excitement. Riki wailed a little bit when you two woke him up, but just seeing you and Sunghoon's face made him peaceful in an instant.
Hand-in-hand, you, Sunghoon, and Riki walked off into the night.
And Sunghoon thought, there isn't anything else in the world that he could ask for.
Not when he was able to spend the rest of his life with his little family.
Not when he was head over heels in love with you.
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sanguineterrain · 4 months
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Jason is definitely the type to go feral over his best friend he hasn't seen in years. Hear me out: he's alive again, and not only that, but he's huge. Strong. People are afraid of him. So the reader is in town, walking the streets, and they meet again, maybe when he protects them as Hood. And reader is ecstatic to see Jason again of course and he's the same but also, all he can think is minemineminemine and I WANT YOU. mans is down horrendous for his sweet best friend that he missed and he's been in love with them for so long and now that he has them, he's not giving them up
idk if this was a prompt but i got inspired <3 thanks for stopping by anon
jason todd x gn!reader. feral jason i guess, but really soft jason. jason who yearns to be yours. jason who'd do anything for it, even if it meant one sided devotion... and also, jason who is loved by you. 1.2k words
****
"I don't understand why you can't come to my apartment."
"I told you why." Jason's posture is rigid but his tone is gentle. Because he has told you why he won't enter your home. Multiple times. Doesn't mean you don't challenge it every time you meet him on a random rooftop.
"It would be fine, Jay," you say. "I trust you."
"I know. But I don't trust everybody else," he says, words crackling through his modulator. That had frightened you at first; in fact, everything about a newly-resurrected Jason Todd had frightened you. From his height to the guns, you'd been sure that night in Gotham would be your last.
But then it had become clear that cheated death aside, nothing could kill his heart.
"You haven't visited in a while," you say.
You don't mean for it to sound accusatory.
"I know," Jason says. "Been busy. The Bats..."
And you knew. You knew the second you found out that Jason was alive that it would be like this, that he wouldn't be completely yours. He wasn't yours when he was Robin either, perhaps even less so.
And what's wrong with that? You have no right to ask him to be yours. To give you more.
But the recent distance has frightened you. Maybe it's for safety's sake, but your selfish heart wishes that he'd drop that for once.
Then again, there's always that dread in your stomach that perhaps Jason Todd doesn't love you the way you love him. And perhaps he never will.
"Well, I wish you'd call," you say.
This is wrong. You shouldn't be picking fights. Jason doesn't go dark out of cruelty, only necessity.
Jason sighs. "I can't. 'M sorry."
You cross your arms. It's chilly tonight.
"Do you even want to see me?"
He tilts his head. Dangerous.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't want to intrude," you say. "You're busy and all the stuff with B, I don't—I mean, I wouldn't hold it against you if you—"
Jason takes two long strides and closes the distance. You swallow the rest of your sentence as he backs you up against the brick exterior of an abandoned apartment. Your heart picks up. You're not afraid; the fear went long ago. You're just... something. You're something about Jason.
The last time you two hugged was after Willis' death. You'd wanted to wrap him in his cape, thought maybe that would make everything feel as small as he'd been.
Now, a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier, Jason clearly does not need a cape. Right?
He takes off his helmet, lets it hang on his hand. His other hand is by your head. You lean back, let your neck go on display. Jason doesn't miss the movement.
"What're you doing, Jay?" you ask levelly.
Maybe he thinks you don't notice this distance but you do. You don't want to push him to talk about it, because as upsetting as it is, you're still strangers to each other.
You are and you're not. He died and he didn't. You grieved and you didn't. You burn and... you burn.
But you're tired of being and not being. You won't let him keep you in emotional purgatory. If he's done with you, he should just say so.
"If you don't want to meet anymore," you start, and let the words hang in the air.
"I—" he starts, then swallows. He tosses his helmet to the side. He doesn't touch you, just hovers inches away. Jason smells like lilac and gun smoke.
"I don't think you understand... my devotion," he says, voice low. "How much power you have over me."
Your eyes widen. "Wh—"
His green eyes reflect the streetlight like a cat's. The sight stops you short. Jason Todd is hot metal on a knife's edge, and it would do you well to remember that.
His hands curl into fists. He shakes his head.
"Sorry," he whispers like a prayer. "Not tryna scare you." His chest rises and falls rapidly. "'M I scarin' ya, sweetheart? Tell me and I'll go home, shake it off. Wait forever. I can be good. Won't want what I don't deserve."
"I'm not scared," you say, and it's the most sure you've ever been. "Not scared of you, Jay."
He breathes a laugh, like he can't quite believe you. His breath is warm on your neck.
"You'd be the first," he says. "The only one."
This, you believe. This, you have wondered some nights, knowing that even Batman isn't sure what to do with a son who lives with death on his shoulder.
"You don't have to devote yourself to me," you say, because that makes you pause. Who are you to be his god?
Jason laughs again, strong and sure. He sinks to his knees in front of you. His white streak glows in the light.
"You think it's a vice?" he asks. He rests a hand on your left thigh, testing. You lay your hand over his, so he holds your other thigh too.
He hums. "You do. You think you're holdin' me hostage."
Jason takes a shuddering breath and flattens his palms over your legs. Then he leans in and rests his cheek on your leg, nose near the apex of your thighs. Your belly flips.
"Let's make one thing clear. My devotion is my only redemption. 'S the only thing that makes me believe I'm not all rotted inside. Makes me behave. In this world and the next, I'm yours."
"I... Jason, you belong to yourself, not me. I don't—"
"You don't have to do anything. If it's too much, then I'll disappear. You can carry on."
You stroke the exposed side of his face. He looks up at you.
He is still. You have made him still.
"I'm yours too," you say.
He shakes his head. "You don't hafta—"
"Do you think being yours is a curse?" you ask, gaze sharp.
"Don't promise something for balance's sake," he rasps. "I'll be yours without you being mine."
Your heart is still. He has made it still.
"I'll keep coming back," Jason whispers, eyes wide. "If you're mine, I can't leave. Y'don't know what you're doing. Don't give yourself to me."
"I do. I'm yours."
His grip tightens around your legs. Jason shakes his head.
"Don't do it," he says into your thigh. "I shouldn't have anyone. I'm-I'm only meant to be yours. Nobody's mine."
But you know. You can slide your finger along his teeth and he'll wait with his mouth open. You can touch his edges and he'll turn his cheek so you won't nick your finger. He would sooner chew his own tongue.
"It's alright," you say, and kneel. You dirty your knees right alongside him. "It's okay, Jason. I know what I'm doing."
His breath hitches. Jason presses you into the brick, tucks his face into your neck. His arms wrap tightly around your waist.
"Sorry," he whispers frantically. "'M sorry. You can push me away. Sorry."
"I won't do that." You hold him and let him take you. "I know you're good. I thought—I thought you were pulling away, and I..."
"I was," he admits, muffled in your skin. "'M sorry. Was the only way I could think of to let you go. You deserve better. Couldn't think 'round you, honeylove. Knew it was a death sentence when I found out that you still lived in Gotham."
"It wasn't," you say. "Best thing that's ever happened to me."
Jason huffs. "You say that now, but..."
"No. I say it now and I'll say it again. Keep me, Jason. I'll keep you too."
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ladyloveandjustice · 10 months
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I saw a post in the My Adventures with Superman tag claiming that Lois "finally" has a character. I really like the show and it's version of Lois too, but I want to make this clear: Lois Lane has been around for over 80 years and she's always been a distinct, dynamic character with a lot going for her, every bit as admirable as Superman. This isn't a new thing!
Like any character Lois has had some bad adaptations, but she's been a great character from the beginning, and I wanted to show off some panels from comics over the years so anyone new to Superman lore can see why she's a beloved character and the MAWS portrayal is building on that, not starting from scratch.
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Lois in the golden age comics (1939 through the 1940's) was shown to be a career-driven woman who didn't take shit from anyone. This was an era where a lot of women were entering the workforce because men were serving in WWII and there was excitement and change in the air, and Lois was meant to be a reflection of that. She fought against the sexism of her boss sticking her with the advice and gossip columns because she was a woman, and she was go-getting reporter out to get a real story. From the beginning she was fearless (sometimes reckless), driven, and had no patience for Clark Kent's (feigned) cowardice (and was always full of sick burns). She never let anyone push her around.
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And she's been pretty consistently like this her entire run as a character. Of course, there were some bad writers, and there was a time in the 50s when all female characters had to be marriage obsessed (Lois wasn't the only one hit with this, Wonder Woman was too), but she reverted back to her firebrand self in the 60's and 70's, and when the 80's came along, characters started getting more filled in backstories, including her- this was where we started seeing stuff about her home life, her childhood moving around as a military brat, and her troubled relationship with her father and sister. She had an interior life, inner conflict- and she still kicked ass and always got the last word in. As someone invested in journalism, she is THE coolest fictional journalist to me.
This was also when comics started focusing on Clark being who Superman WAS rather than a pure act, and we got to see their relationship really grow and Lois fall for Clark, not Superman. So here, have some panels of Lois being great and see the scope of her own personality.
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Lois also has lots fun little quirks and hobbies comics readers know about- she takes her coffee a certain way, she doesn't cook much because she's so on the go (so Clark is the one who cooks in the fam), she likes to sit on Clark's desk when they're talking (this happens in other Superman media too), she REALLY likes monster trucks and Clark REALLY doesn't but will support her anyway:
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Also, she's always seen through to who Clark really is:
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Anyway. Have more of my favorite Lois panels because I have a lot:
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also this one because I'm gay:
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kookslastbutton · 8 months
Text
Loverboy ༓ kth (m)
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✑ Summary: After a startling conversation with your coworkers, you start feeling insecure about your sexual prowess. You don't initiate as much, you haven't worn lingerie yet, and you're still timid about doing much seducing with your body–are you giving your boyfriend boring sex? Taehyung reassures you that you are perfect and have nothing to worry about.
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Pairing: taehyung x reader
AU/Genre: fluff, smut, angst, established relationship
Word Count: 7,177
Warnings: feat. Jimin and Tannie, body insecurity (including some self-deprecation but nothing toooo bad), sexual insecurity, a hint of marriage insecurity, catty coworkers (one who wants your bf! 😠), swearing, social drinking, and explicit sexual content
Sexual warnings: oh where do I start? dom!taehyung, sub!reader, two smut scenes, praise kink, asking for consent, lingerie, foggy glasses, reader is on pill, f*ngering in the kitchen, oral (f.), d*rty talk, making out, tiny bit of breastplay, m*ssonary (legs over shoulders and then around waist), hand holding while c*ming bc I'm a sap, slight begging kink, back kisses, cuddling, taehyung calls oc sl*t once but all other times he is calling her beautiful, baby, etc., lots of neck kisses, oc does her best to initiate, if I have overlooked some my apologies....these are the main ones though.
Now Playing: UP by J. Valentine (thanks to tae's live 😳)
A/N: I've been have crazy tae fever 😅 once again my pwp's turn into fluffy one-shots hahah with smut ofc. Anyway please enjoy 🥰 fyi oc isn't a virgin nor shy generally speaking, but she's nervous about her sexual abilities.
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The last ten minutes of work on Fridays are possibly the best moments of your life.
And it’s all thanks to an unspeakably gorgeous man with ruffled ebony hair, perfectly plump cherry lips, and a seductive tiger-like gaze. The faint mole on his nose is wicked cute too and when he puts his reading glasses on–oh fuck.
Of course, you’re referring to your boyfriend, Taehyung. You accidentally bumped into him while he was taking his Pomeranian for a walk four months ago; leading to the messiest (yet cute) first date ever. Now, he and Tannie come over to your apartment every weekend for snuggles under your cozy fleece blankets.
TGIF right?
But while Friday nights typically consist of snuggling with two goofs, it means getting hammered at the bar downtown to your coworkers. You don’t typically take up their invites to join but tonight you were guilt-tripped into it. Something about chumming with the gossipy group rather than being on their blacklist for the seventh rejection in a row was more appealing—they can be a vicious bunch.
Taehyung wasn't off work for another hour or two anyway, leaving you with a decent amount of time to kill. So why not appease the peanut gallery for a few?
“It’s my two-year anniversary with Eun-woo,” one of your coworkers, Ji-won, pipes up after taking a sip of her Cosmopolitan. She swirls the glass in her hand before setting it down on the table. Ji-won works in the finance department and is absolutely gorgeous. Her skin is clear, has honey-colored eyes, and possibly the best body proportions a woman can have. Her personality is no joke either and her laugh? Infectious. Everyone who comes across her either wants to marry her or be her best friend.
The cynical part of you wants to dislike her but it’s impossible–that’s how charismatic she is.
“Oh my god, congratulations babe!” Another coworker of yours reaches over and pulls the woman into a tight squeeze, giggling at the news. Suzy also works in the finance department and the pair are the best of friends. “I can’t believe how well it’s been going between you and Eun-woo! What are you doing to celebrate? You have to tell me!” She grabs her friend's shoulders and shakes her.
Unlike Ji-won, Suzy is much more energetic and eager to know the details of everyone’s lives. Nosy in other words. But despite her invasiveness, she manages to attract a great number of suitors as well; taking nearly half of them home with her every night. Suzy has beautiful bone structure and to get to the point, she’s naturally very sexy.
You don’t feel the same way towards her as you do with Ji-won; you dislike her quite a bit. The main reason is that she has an insane crush on your boyfriend and shamelessly flirts with him whenever he’s around. She’s told you many times before that if anything happened between you two, to let her know. She masks it as a joke to lighten the blow but god, you don’t like calling people a bitch but if the shoe fits.
“We’re taking a short weekend trip to Jeju Island,” you hear Ji-won’s silky voice reply, cheeks growing rosier with each word. “I think he might propose to me but I’m so nervous.” Her fingers move to grip her Cosmopolitan; raising it to her ruby-red lips to take another sip.
“That’s so wonderful,” you start, downing a shot yourself. The burn of the alcohol rolling down the back of your throat serves as an excellent distraction from your personal worries about marriage. You love the idea but would anyone stay with you for life?
Your relationship with Taehyung has been going swimmingly well, with the occasional fight here and there, but you haven’t been together nearly long enough for a proposal to come into the picture. Maybe someday but you can’t afford to jump ahead of yourself.
“Jeju Island will be perfect for you both. You’re like a couple straight from the Hallmark movies,” you continue with an encouraging smile. “You be sure to tell us if he really does propose though. What hint did he give to cause your suspicions?”
Ji-won chuckles and tucks some of her hair behind an ear. “We were packing for the trip last night and I saw him sneak a small jewelry box into his bag. I didn’t say anything because I thought maybe I was seeing things but when I thought about it later, I don’t think I was wrong.”
Once again, Suzy grips the poor woman’s arm to tug it out of excitement. “Please tell me I get to plan the bachelorette party! I’ll hire only the best strippers for you babe, as long as you want them of course. Oh, I’m just so crazy about this! Weddings are my heart and soul!”
After watching the scene unfold in front of you a grimace spreads on your lips. “Weddings are your heart and soul?” you repeat as a question, trying to withhold your judgment. “Last I knew you weren’t the fondest of happily ever afters.”
“That’s a good point!” A fist suddenly pounds on the table. You all look toward the source; your third coworker Mina who’s already borderline drunk. Mina is your IT specialist and after so much HTML and Python, her brain is utterly fried. Similar to you, she started dating someone about six months back except he’s been on an overseas business trip for the past week.
“Suzy,” she points at the woman whose eyes widen at the stark gesture. “You sleep around, right? So __’s right that you don’t actually like fairytale weddings.” Her words slur a bit due to her drunken state.
Across the table, Suzy rolls her eyes and shrugs. “For myself yeah, but not for other people. I’m not against weddings entirely.” She leans towards Ji-won with hopeful eyes. “By the way, if you need help picking out what underwear to bring with you on your trip, just say the word.”
Ji-won’s previous blush returns fourfold at the offer. “Thanks but I have that under control.”
“Oh good,” she praises, waving her margarita around in her hand. “It’d be an atrocity if you didn’t. Lingerie is the cherry on top for keeping your sex life spicy, and if you didn’t have any I’d drag all of us to the store right now. __ agrees with me.” She winks. “Her and Taehyung must have gone through tons of sets by now.”
What. The. Fuck.
When did Ji-won’s potential engagement turn into a poke into your sex life?
You choose to ignore the comment entirely.
Not that she needs to know but you and Taehyung have recently started becoming very active in the bedroom; you're never in the same position twice. Even began getting down and dirty in the back seat of his car (...if he isn’t the biggest experimentalist you’ve dated then you don’t even know your own name).
But while it's been wild in the bedroom, lingerie isn’t an area you’ve explored yet.
You know, it sounds crazy. Surely a couple that's open to a whole list of kinks and positions would dabble in something as basic as lacy underwear.
It's not the case here.
Truth is you're timid of the whole idea; of purposefully seducing someone with your body. Would you be so bold? No, even if you are interested to try it out, you'd shy away within the first ten seconds.
Yes, you've recently become sexually active with your boyfriend but 90% of the time it's him who's doing the initiating. The subtle hand on your thigh or kiss on your neck while you're trying to wash the dishes—he's truly evil with that one.
Not to mention that Taehyung has your clothes ripped off before you can blink so what's the point of buying expensive, itchy lingerie?
Atrocity or not, you have your reasons.
"Well?" The sound of Suzy's nagging tone brings you out of your daze. She stares you down with piercing eyes, demanding a reply.
You merely shrug and take another shot.
Sorry, but you're not really into the whole swapping sex stories with the woman who wants to sleep with your boyfriend.
Suzy gives a small huff when she realizes you aren't talking. "So anyway..." she turns to the other two. "Sex is boring without a proper lace set. Or silk if that's more your thing. I have at least twenty in my draw." She takes the lime from the rim of her glass and plops it into her margarita proudly.
You're mid-eye roll when you hear Mina shouting in agreement. "Hell yeah, it's boring! I just got a new set the other day for a video call I'm having with my boyfriend tomorrow night." A round of oohs is given before she continues. You on the other hand listen intently. "Ever since he's been away in England at his conferences, it's been like a heaven sent to keeping our sex life alive."
Ji-won nods. "I wasn't sure how it would go the first time I wore lace for Eun-woo. Once I did, we never went back. It gave me a sense of power to take the lead too, which most men find really hot. It gets tiring when they have to do all the work all the time."
The girls chuckle together while your mind reels. Taehyung's never had a problem with you being in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants before fucking you silly. But then again, it's not like you've ever asked him.
Your face flushes at the thought—you've never actually asked if he wanted more.
Is he actually happy with the sex?
Should you be doing more for him like wearing lacy underwear or a maid outfit (or whatever's in these days)?
Maybe he isn't satisfied at all but tolerates it because he loves you. Sex isn't the only part that matters in a relationship you know.
Still.
It's an important one.
And if a few pieces of lace are seemingly such a necessity as your coworkers attest...then you're fucked.
Ji-woo places a gentle hand on your shoulder and furrows her eyebrows in concern. "You feeling okay? This is the second time you've zoned out in twenty minutes."
"Oh my god," Suzy gasps, hand covering her mouth. "It makes sense now. You haven't had sex with Taehyung yet have you?!" Her eyes smile at you devilishly as she bites down a grin. This woman seriously needs to get a hobby other than obsessing over your boyfriend.
"Actually," you drawl, scooting your chair backward until you're able to get up. "We have multiple times and we don't plan on stopping. He's coming to my place in an hour or so where he'll gladly fuck me wherever we please. I gotta head out for that now but see you all Monday."
You hurry away from the group as quick as you can, fully aware of their eyes burning holes in the back of your neck and jaws dropping in shock. Why did you say that __? Fuck it.
You feel unwell.
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For the next hour and a half, you're restless; pacing around the house in search of meaningless tasks to do. Cleaning usually helps in these situations, though it's proving quite useless this time.
Are you a good sex partner?
Does he secretly wish you'd take the riegns more?
You fluff the living room pillow and toss it on the couch. Stupid. It's all stupid but you can't shake it.
When your boyfriend finally arrives at your place, you take a deep breath before throwing the front door open.
"Hi baby, how was your d—"
As soon as Taehyung strolls inside and sets Tannie down on your apartment floor, you grab the collar of his shirt and press your lips firmly on his. He's surprised at your boldness yet not the slightest disappointed given the hands that smoothly settle around your hips.
"I missed you," you say desperately, walking him back into your kitchen island. Taehyung grunts when the small of his back hits the edge.
"I missed you more."
He shoves his tongue into your mouth, drawing out a sweet moan from your lips. His favorite is when you gasp, hips bucking into his. So with subtle fingers, he untucks your blouse from your pants to trace up the expanse of your back. His cool fingers cause you to shiver as he does this; not because you're chilly but because of the growing anticipation inside you.
As Taehyung runs his large palms up and down your bare back, you card through his soft, fluffy hair. He knows how messed up you enjoy making it. That and it's typically a sign that you're extremely turned on; yearning for him.
He'll gladly take either.
"Oh!" You yelp when he spins you around until it's your back against the counter. An unexpected giggle comes out of you upon seeing his glasses foggy from your mid-make-out session. You do the honors of removing them from his face and carefully set them on the counter. "Hi handsome," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.
Taehyung lowers his head to nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck, placing several feather-like kisses along the ridge. "Beautiful," he returns your greeting, smokey eyes lifting back up to meet yours. "Wasn't prepared to be kissed like that."
"Did you like it?" You bite your lip which most definitely does nothing to tame the growing erection in his trousers. Taehyung brings a thumb up to your lower lip and swipes across it lightly before pushing it into your mouth.
"I liked it a little too much." His voice drops a few octaves as he watches you suck on the digit. He'd rather have it be his big cock but it's all about the build-up. "I was trying to be a good boyfriend and ask about your day but all you seem to want is to get dicked down on your kitchen counter. Is that all that's on your mind tonight baby? To spread your legs like a dirty girl?"
You whine and rub your thighs together but he prys them apart with his knee. He then moves to unbutton your pants, watching for a nod in consent.
"Please Tae," you say once he retracts his thumb from your mouth, giving a brief nod. "Been waiting all week for you to touch me."
"Shit." Taehyung makes quick work of your pant button and unfastens the zip. He then dips his fingers into your underwear to glide across your folds. "You want me to touch you here baby? Stick my fingers in you and make you come around them?" He teases, obvious that you're wetter than the Pacific Ocean; you could probably take him all right here and now if he desired.
"Yes, put them in," you beg, bucking your hips into his hand. "Please, can't wait much longer."
He smirks at your neediness and begins to sink two of his fingers into your wet pussy, just the tips. "How's this? Can you come like this? You're so wet I bet you can."
You shake your head, inches from snarling at him. "More. Need your whole finger in me to come. Baby—"
As soon as you drop the 'B' word Taehyung pushes his fingers into you, all the way to the knuckle. The loud gasp you let out reminds him of how far his fingers can actually reach; sometimes he forgets how long and slender they are.
His pace is steady from the start, fingers pumping in and out of you as he watches your head fall back further and further in pleasure.
"Fuck," he swears and quickens his speed, curling his fingers to properly stimulate your sweet spot. "I can feel your pussy clenching and throbbing already. Come whenever you want okay?"
"Uh," you answer in a pant, sweat lining across your forehead as your body jerks back and forth.
"Mm that's it," he coos. "Can't even talk can you? That's okay, focus on how my fingers are making you feel. Good right?" He continues thrusting inside of you, loving how you've started riding his fingers in an attempt to make yourself come faster.
"F-feels amazing Tae!" You moan as the peak of your high inches closer and closer. To help get you off, Taehyung circles his thumb over your clit and latches his lips to the side of your neck.
"You wanna come?" He taunts between kisses and you reply with a breathy 'yes'. Taehyung smirks and nibbles on your ear, licking the shell of it a little until finally, you come all over his fingers.
"Such a dirty slut," he says, slipping his fingers out of you and cleaning them off. He kisses you afterward while his hands work to remove your blouse. Once he has the material pushed off your shoulders he kisses a hot trail down to your collarbone.
Taehyung reaches behind your back to unclasp your bra next but then, he feels your body suddenly tense up. It's not a good tense-up either, it's stiff and uncomfortable.
"You okay beautiful?" He stops all movements and puts his hands on either side of you, caging you between him and the counter. "Did I go too far? Shit I'm sorry if I did, you can tell me."
You shake your head fervently, rejecting the idea. "No, you didn't do anything." You then glance down at yourself in your plain black underwear; nothing fancy. All at once the conversation with your coworkers floods your thoughts again and you feel silly for letting it consume you but it does, it bothers you.
"Taehyung I—" you choke on your words as you watch your boyfriend's previously playful face turn into one of worry. You glance down at your hands and chuckle, feeling bad that you just ruined the mood. "I really need your dick in me, let's just get back to it." You move to kiss him but he doesn't let you.
"Hold on a second. I know that laugh," he says, looking deep into your eyes. "Something's bothering you."
"Oh no, I was just thinking that you must be really hard right now so—" You wave your hands about but he grasps them into his, softly.
"Stop. My dick can wait. What's going on?"
You sigh and allow your shoulders to slump a little. "Its nothing, Tae."
"Which means it's absolutely something." He takes the initiative to lift you on the counter; into a seated position and you know, you're not getting out of this until you tell him what's up.
A good 30 seconds of silence pass with him patiently waiting for you to say something, anything. Taehyung's about to prod a little more until you blurt it out all at once.
"Am I sexy? I mean, we have sex but are you...satisfied? Are there fantasies you haven't told me yet? And what about lingerie? You know I haven't worn any of that so...am I boring? Is it boring to have sex with me? Because I can wear that stuff if you want...if you like it I mean."
Taehyung's mouth gapes open at you, baffled by what he's just heard. It takes him a few moments to gather his thoughts; the last thing he wants is to be an idiot and reply dumbly.
"I'm sorry," he starts and rubs soothing circles on your hands. "I don't know where to start. Of course, you're sexy, you're my angel. And boring? This coming from the woman who makes me hard just by looking at her?"
"Tae I know that–"
"I love you," he continues. "And I love all the things your pussy does to me. There's nothing you need to do, wear, or say for those to be true. Now who gave you the idea that you're boring? Was it me? Shit, it was me wasn't it?"
"No! It wasn't." Your fingers tighten in his hold, eyebrows raising in slight alarm. "I was out with some girls from work and they said that lingerie is the cherry on top for keeping sex spicy. They also said that sex is boring without it and that a woman should take charge in the bedroom so her partner isn't doing all the work."
"Well, that's bullshit."
"Taehyung! You're not taking this seriously."
"I am baby. I promise I am. But since when did fabric define a healthy, thriving sex life? We fuck all the time without lingerie and last I checked we both come. And you know why? Because we're made for each other and we have really great sex. I'm not one to blab about our sex life to others but if I did, everyone would be jealous. Especially of me, because I'm with a literal angel. So not to belittle your coworkers but they're a little narrow-minded."
The faintest smirk pulls at the corner of your boyfriend's lips as he slowly dances his fingers along your waist. "By the way, I would happily do all the work. I aim to please as you know. And taking charge isn't a problem for you seeing as you practically jumped me two seconds from walking into the door. Poor Tannie is scarred for life now. I think he ran into your bedroom."
"Stop," you allow a chuckle, feeling the tension lighten from his joke. "Tannie's seen a lot worse, I'm sure. He just likes my fluffy comforter. Little dog has high standards just like his daddy."
"It's true, I spoiled him too early." Taehyung's grin spreads like oil across his face and you smile as well, not as wide as his but enough that the mood picks back up. "Back to what we were talking about though. I don't want you to think that you're not giving me enough okay? Maybe for your coworkers, sex is different for them and fair enough, they have their own relationships to maintain. But, as long as you're alright with how we're doing, both in and out of the bedroom, then we're perfectly fine."
"So..." You pause to take in the drastic difference in opinion. "You don't want me to wear a sexy lace set or something? What about a ribboned bodysuit? I've seen those becoming more and more popular because they show–"
"Yes, I–I'm aware of the variety out there." He wets his lips, thumbs pressing into your delicate skin harder. "I won't lie in saying I wouldn't love seeing you in a set or two, but I think it's up to you. Because the only thing I need is for you to be comfortable, whether it's in an oversized t-shirt and baggy sweats or naked on this countertop. You're stunnimg to me either way because it's you in front of me and no one else."
"I love you Tae," you sigh and lean into his chest, arms wrapping around his waist to bring him near. Naturally, his crotch brushes against yours as he inches to stand between your parted legs. "Wow, you're still hard?" You snort, feeling his very obvious bulge.
Taehyung kisses the top of your head. "Yes, you'll be surprised at how long I can last with a boner."
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A week after your conversation with Taehyung and getting possibly the best fuck of your life on your kitchen island, you find yourself at the mall with your favorite pink-haired boy; Park Jimin. You and Jimin have been close since college and when you say there are no secrets between you, you mean it.
Jimin is also a fashion mogul which is why he's insisted he tag along with you on your search for new clothes. Due to the coolness of the season, you're in need of some warm fall clothing. He prefers you look for something from Dior or Chanel but you put a stop to that; your bank account doesn't have the funds to support that joy ride just yet.
"My grandma's sweater looks better." You hear your best friend sass for the twentieth time behind you. "Put it back __."
"No." You throw the hanger with the baby blue cardigan over your arm and continue browsing through the sale rack. "I happen to like this one, you snob."
The man instantly slaps a hand over his heart as if mimicking being shot. "So rude when I'm just trying to save you from a fashion disaster. If my assistance isn't needed then I might as well go over to the men's section and take a look at the new cufflinks I saw on the way in."
You give your eyes a roll and if you did it once more, they'd get stuck up there. "Fine by me, you've been gawking at them the entire time we've been here. I thought you didn't dwell with the commoners Mr. Only-Buys-Designer-Staight-From-The-Runway-Itself."
"Well, what can I say," Jimin snaps and heads for the other side of the store. "We all have faults. It just so happens that my new partner prefers these kinds of cheap renditions over classic Prada cufflinks."
"Aww poor Chim," you holler after him. "Maybe gift him a pair for Christmas to help break him in?"
"Tried that for his birthday and it was a major fail __. But it's all good because I'm saving that gift for someone else."
You freeze at the questionable choice of words. "And who's that?" you ask. Jimin whips his head over a shoulder and smiles sweetly.
"Your boyfriend. Did you forget he also loves designer?"
"Oh yeah, right. Thanks, Jimin." You hold out the baby blue cardigan, observing it once more. Maybe you shouldn't get this? Not that it matters to Taehyung what you wear either but....maybe it does look old ladyish.
"Hey," your best friend strides over to you again with a softened expression. "Everything alright between you two?"
"Everything's great, you just got me thinking of something is all. I recently had a small talk with him last night about, you know, our bedroom situation."
Though your voice is lowered Jimin understands you clearly. You confide in him a lot so of course he knows about all your personal challenges; the ins and outs of you. He's known about your hesitations towards lingerie and intimacy long before Taehyung came into the picture.
"Oh shit," he swears under his breath. "What did he say?"
You proceed to retell him the highlights of last week's conversation; how sensitive Taehyung was to you and how he told you it's up to you if you want to bring lingerie into the mix. Jimin nods along.
"So what about you then? Do you want to explore the endless realm of lacy bodysuits, transparent bras and panty sets, garters, and aisles of naughty roleplay outfits to fulfill your sexual fantasies or no?"
"Damn, no wonder that lingerie store you worked at straight out of college didn't want you to leave. Anyway, I was thinking about giving it a try but I'm still unsure. It's not that I don't want to or that Taehyung's pressuring me–I still just feel really nervous."
"Here's a thought then." Jimin hums aloud. "What if we went to an underwear store and you tried on a few things? You don't have to buy any of it or take any home to show off. It'll be an experiment of sorts."
You ponder the idea and it doesn't sound half bad. Low commitment right?
"Okay. I think there's a Victoria's Secret on the second floor."
"Oh no no," the man shakes his head as if amused by your cuteness. "We're going somewhere a little more special than that."
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"Jimin! Help please!" You holler from inside the dressing room of one the poshest boutiques you've been in. Turns out the place you've been dragged to is a high-end underwear store called Delilah's. You were beyond skeptical of the price on your way in but it wasn't horrible.
"Oh my god," Jimin rushes into the stall with you as soon as you call for him. "You look so sexy in this __. Like a Christmas present waiting to be unwrapped."
"The tiny silk bows on this thing barely cover my nipples." And you're not exaggerating. The set you've opted to try on first is Jimin's pick; a strappy red two-piece with matching garters, silk choker, and bows over both breasts. He says it's supposed to be like a sexy Mrs. Clause but while it's sexy for sure, it's way more revealing than how you'd prefer (at least the first time trying this kind of thing out).
"Turn around," he commands. "You're straps are a little loose."
"I don't think this one fits me Chim. This is obviously meant for a specific body type and it's not mine." You have a hard time staring at yourself in the mirror so you stare down towards the floor instead.
Jimin takes a small breath and turns your shoulders back around so you're facing him again. "This is for anyone who wants to wear it, love. Your body is beautiful and this set looks smashing on you. If it's not your style, no problem, but I won't have you getting down on yourself."
"You're starting to sound like Taehyung now." You give a nervous chuckle and rub your arm.
"If it means you listen to him then good. I'm your best friend and your biggest supporter __ so you know I'll always be honest with you. Now do we not like this because it's not to your taste or is it because you're not good enough for it?"
"Not...my taste," you slowly draw out the words. "Thanks Chim."
"You really mean that?" He straight into your eyes, knowing you have a habit of telling him only what he wants to hear sometimes. You nod.
"Yes, and I was thinking maybe we can keep the color the same but go for something a little tamer?"
"Anything for you, love."
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Well, he convinced you to buy the third set you tried on at the boutique. It's a similar shade of red as the first set; the ones with the bows on it, but covers a bit more. Both the bra and panties are strappy and made of sheer, but also have the occasional lace detailing to cover the important parts. A matching red robe made of silk was included in the purchase too.
When you got home, you shoved the set into the back of your drawer, not thinking you'd take it out any time soon.
But alas, you did.
You're now twisting in front of your bedroom mirror with it on, along with the robe which loosely hangs off your shoulder.
"Is this cute?" You ask yourself. "I look kinda different with it on. Maybe I should return it," you continue to talk to yourself in mutters until your bedroom door squeaks open. You jump at the sudden intrusion.
There, sauntering into the bedroom is your boyfriend's dog. Being Friday again, Taehyung and Tannie came over to spend the weekend with you. But while your boyfriend is busy showering in your bathroom, Tannie has decided he wants to make himself cozy on your bed.
"Hi Tan." You crouch down on your knees in front of the pup and give him a few good pat. He yips at you but doesn't move away. "Have you still not made up your mind about me yet? I know I took your daddy away from you so now you don't have him all to yourself anymore but didn't I give you extra treats this morning?"
Tannie's big eyes look up at you and then towards your bed. He then trots over to the edge where his doggie stairs are and uses them to climb up atop the bed. You stand up from your kneeled position and place your hands on your hips.
"Well, I guess you made this place your home huh?" You watch as the little dog spins three times in a circle before plopping down. "Alright, you're too cute to be fake mad at. Since you're here though, maybe you can help me."
You feel utterly stupid for what you're about to do next, yet that feeling doesn't stop you. "What do you think about this new set I got? It's my first one so I'm excited but it looks weird right?"
Tan huffs and stares at you.
"Yeah? It does, doesn't it? You know when I got this I was thinking maybe I could get into it...this whole lingerie thing. And it's sexy, no denying that, but as I told my friend Jimin. It's not meant for my bod–"
Your sentence is abruptly cut off when a pair of hands make their way around your hips. They stay atop your robe yet the burn of your boyfriend's fingers is still fiery hot.
When did he get out of the shower?
Taehyung stands behind you in a pair of silk pajama bottoms and nothing else. His bare chest presses lightly against your back and his wet hair falls messily around his face with a few strands covering his eyes. "Hi," he breathes in a husky tone, right next to your ear. It sends a whole trail of shivers up your spine. "What's not meant for your body, baby?"
In a ball of nervous energy, you move to tug the robe as closed as you can, forcing his fingers to loosen around your body. "Tae! I didn't hear you get out of the shower. I was just talking to Tannie and I-I'm gonna go get changed, now that the bathroom's free."
You'd make a beeline out your bedroom door if it weren't for the arm that snakes around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. "Do you have to change? Because I really, really don't want you to. As always I'll let you make your own decisions though..." Evilly, he sweeps your hair all to one side to expose the nape of your neck. He then places a kiss on the sensitive area; too soft, his lips are too soft.
You bite your moan back however, don't meet his question with a response. The thought of opening your robe and showing him the number underneath makes you crazy with arousal. You just wish you didn't have the pesky whisper that tells you that there's nothing to go crazy for after you do.
You're really not trying to be so hard on yourself but can you actually do this? The set is hot, sure, but maybe it was a mistake to g– "Oh Tae, fuck." You gasp when your boyfriend latches his mouth on the side of your neck, sucking on it lewdly. It never fails to send your head backward into his firm chest. Your eyes fall shut to bask in the pleasure. "You're way too good at this," you coo.
Taehyung slowly traces down the fabric of your robe, near the opening. It's a struggle for him not to pull the thin material open. "Can I see?" It's a plead.
You wet your lips and fiddle with the material yourself. "I-I don't know."
"Let me rephrase that." He folds his palms over your fingers and spins you both around so you're able to see each other's reflection in your full-length mirror. "Do you want me to see?" His deep, lusty eyes lock with yours in the glass. Taehyung brings his chin down to your shoulder, resting it there calmly while his grip tightens around you.
He gives you as long as you need to reply.
"...yes," you finally decide, dragging your robe down and off your shoulders. Taehyung groans and kisses your bare shoulder as you cautiously show yourself to him.
"Tan." His voice calls out, more gruff than when he was speaking with you moments ago. "Living room." The little dog's ears perk up and he flees off the bed and out the room.
"Did he really have to go?"
"He's our baby. He can't witness all the nasty things I'm about to do to you. He'll make himself comfy on the couch, don't worry." Your boyfriend runs his hands up your thighs before helping you remove your robe completely. "I haven't said it yet so I'm going to do it now. You look fucking hot in this, like a lucid dream. I don't deserve this, fuck."
"Really?"
His fingers sensually trace your curves, then the thin band of your lace panties. "Yeah, really," he hums and cups your mound. "This color on you is making me insane. I can't decide if I want to take it off or savor it on your body a little longer."
"Tae—mfph!" He doesn't let you finish, preferring to turn you around so he can press his lips on yours. He moves with passion, nipping your bottom lip to sneak his tongue inside. Your moans only grow louder when his grinds his hips into you.
With a gentle pull, Taehyung leads you to the edge of your bed. "Lay down for me, on your stomach."
You do as he says and slide onto your mattress, face down. All your senses tingle at once when you feel his body hovering over you. His legs straddle you from behind as his hands cling to the sheets on either side of you.
"Tae what are you doing?" Your senses heighten, your heart thumping at the inability to see him.
"This," he answers and brings his warm lips to the small of your back. The tiny jolt of surprise doesn't stop him from continuing to kiss up your spine and all the way up between your shoulder blades. He's never kissed you like this before. Your body arches off the bed from the newness and arousal pools between your thighs.
"This feels ni-nice." The broken moan spurs your boyfriend on. He kisses you the same way again, faster. Clearly, wherever your boyfriend's lips touch you, you like it tenfold.
Once he gets back to your shoulder blades Taehyung lifts his head up and unclasps your bra. He then flips you over, gives you a quick peck, and rips the now pesky material off your body.
"I love seeing this on you and I wanted to wait it out some more but I can't do it." He cups the swell of your breasts, squeezing them together while his thumbs fondle your perky nipples. "You look so, so beautiful and I need to make love to you now or I'm going to come in my pants like a teenager." He releases your breasts and mouths at the supple flesh, tongue licking across the peaks.
"Fuck," you moan and sink your fingers into his hair. "I need you too. Please."
Your panties are off before you know it, the cool air hitting your warm pussy. Taehyung spreads your thighs wide open and tells you to keep them there until he gets his own pants and underwear off. He's seconds from putting himself into you when he pauses.
"Can't skip over this can we?" He circles your clit with the pad of his thumb and lowers his head down to your center. "Not that you really need it seeing as you're soaked down here, but I'm a creature of habit." He proceeds to lick up your folds, teasing your clit at the same time.
"Oh, oh my god Tae!" You claw his hair harder and reflexively buck your hips into his mouth, drawing a deep groan from him.
"Shit!" He raises his face from between your thighs with lips already glistening with your arousal. "Maybe I can finish eating you out after I fuck you into the mattress."
You nod your head. "Okay, yeah sure, fuck me. I'm still on the pill."
Taehyung lifts both of your legs over his shoulders and rubs the tip of his cock up and down your entrance. You clench at the teasing. "You are literally going to be the end of me, baby." He thrusts himself all the way into you, bottoming out much quicker than other times.
"Fuuck," you both moan at the stretch. Taehyung's hips snap forward with vigor, his thick length being squeezed by your velvet walls with each push and pull.
"Goddamn, this pussy is too good for me. So hot and tight, shit! You're so beautiful you know that? Everything you are. That's why—it's why it hurt me so much when you asked if I thought you were sexy or boring last week."
Your nails dig into the sheets as you watch the veins protrude from his neck. His eyes, on the other hand, are laser-focused on you.
"Hurt....you?"
"Yes," he affirms, fucking into you faster with hard, controlled thrusts. "Hurt me so much because you're mine and I–fuck I'm gonna come soon!"
I never want you to question how I feel about you. And when you asked me those things, it made my head spin. Our relationship is not all about sex and I thought maybe I was making it seem like that. And now, seeing you in sexy red set gives me such a mindfuck but I don't want you to feel like it's just because of the lace."
"No, no not at all. I don't think any of that because you're perfect to me too Tae. Going out with my coworkers and having that conversation just triggered me. This is all still new to me....us."
"I know." Taehyung unexpectedly stops his movement to lower your legs from his shoulders. He then brings them around his mid-section which you gladly wrap around. "It's new to me too but we're just starting right?" Your hands are intertwined with his when he resumes his previous brutal pace.
"Right," you breathe, fingers gripping his firmer against the mattress "I'm-I'm gonna come baby. It's so close."
"Me too."
You both have your release at the same time, panting like crazy from the post-orgasmic bliss. Taehyung rides both your highs out, then pulls out of you slowly.
"Holy fuck." You're the first to speak. "That damn lingerie really did make our sex better."
"Better?" Taehyung squeaks out. "What do you mean better? Was it not as good before?"
"I'm kidding, however, I do think you were a lot more eager this time. What happened to the whole being able to last with a boner for eternity if you have to speech?"
He breaks out into a cute grin. "I guess I was bullshitting then, lesson learned. Also, even though the lingerie is hot we don't have to keep doing it...I mean if you want to–"
You shut him up with a kiss and snuggle into him. "Maybe we'll try it again. It was kinda fun. Either way, you're right, we don't need it because I love you."
"I love you more. Now how about I fulfill that promise earlier about eating you out?" He jerks back to look at you with a quirked brow.
"Taehyung....we were having a moment."
"Oh shit, sorry. We can keep snuggling, come here beautiful." He pulls you back into himself with a smile.
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a/n: Hoping you enjoyed ☺ LMK your thoughts 💞
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