#I DIED IT WAS LIKE SO CRAZY HE LIKE KNOWS SO MUCH IS SO SIMILAR TO US IT’S CRAAAAAAZY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mygnolia · 4 months ago

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to weave my love ⭒ n. riki

⭒ SYNOPSIS -› Riki is good at many things- dancing, making fun of his friends, playing it cool (debatable.), Hell- he’s even good at saving people from falling buildings without getting whiplash. But the things he’s bad at? Well, it’s asking you out to prom, and trying to balance the shared assignment he has with you…while being Spider-man.

⭒ PAIR -› spiderman!nishimura riki x fem-pres!reader

⭒ GENRE -› fluff, banter, action ⭒ TROPES -› classmates to lovers, idiots to lovers ⭒ WC -› 17k (i’m sorry idk why either.)

⭒ INCLUDES -› SPOILERS FOR GREAT GATSBY, cursing, non-graphic injuries (reader discretion advised), yes i made the patching up with first aid kit trope SUE ME!! takes place in a busy city similar to new york never specified, reader is rich, jake and heeseung are seniors and riki’s a junior, is riki stupid? yes… jake reveals stuff because he is also a little silly, reader wears a red dress!

⭒ GREAT GATSBY -› basically jay gatsby has this weird amt of money but no one rlly knows how he got it (nefarious reasons) and hes been in love with this girl daisy for five years but then she got married to tom buchanan but he gets rich so he can get the house across from her and wistfully watch her and he pines after her like CRAZY but he dies at the end

⭒ REN SAYS...special huge fat kiss to thena @sensitively-taken you will be in the will when im a millionaire THANK YOU for helping me with so much of this I WUV U AND I WLL BE WAITING FOR UR HUENING FIC!!! | LIBRARY

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM PRE-ADULTHOOD STRESS, IF THAT’S EVEN A THING.

What exactly does Riki have to worry about as a seventeen-year-old junior in high school? Right now, his most daunting responsibility is catching up on the chapters of The Great Gatsby because the only thing Riki’s actually read from the novel is that the main character shares a name with his best friend and senior, Park Jay. His second most daunting responsibility is handling the fact that with the new seating chart in his Literature class, it means he’s sitting next to the object of his very subtle affections, you.

See, the problem with having a crush on you is that Nishimura Riki’s committed to thinking that you’re way out of his league, and unfortunately, the boy believes that almost too well. Not only are you minted beyond his wildest dreams (having seen your posts on social media), but you’re hardworking, helpful, and dedicated to your role as student body treasurer. He’s already understood that you’d never go for a guy like him. Maybe someone more like Park Sunghoon, whose parents’ salary matches yours. If Riki lived in a rural estate with generational wealth, handling the whole ‘Spider-Man’ thing might be a bit easier for him, considering he wouldn’t have to try so hard in school. It might even change the fact that Riki dealt with some alleyway criminals last night and is currently catching up on lost sleep, as your English Literature teacher goes on and on about a project on the book you’re reading.

In class, and even sometimes outside of the classroom, your small tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings has landed you in some awkward situations—like now.

“I don’t really tell anyone this, but I hate Daisy.” And instead of getting a response, you glance over to see Nishimura Riki slumped on the desk. Without trying to make preconceptions about what could land him in a situation like this, you poke his arm, stifling a smile at how his eyes widen when you’ve caught him rubbing the very obvious sleep from his eye.

“Sorry,” he whispers, still fighting the post-nap grogginess, “Did I miss anything?”

(Nope.)

Shaking your head, you return your attention to your teacher as he continues to answer questions. The second Mr. Yoo assigned a report, you wanted to die even more considering the work you had to do on top of the impending due dates. But for it to be partnered? And for you to get seated and paired with the one boy who's known for not caring about school? Maybe things are a little stacked against you, but there has to be a reason why Riki’s somehow still passing all his classes…right?

Considering it’s the last assignment about the book, you’re glad that you already read it so many times to know what you want to put into words. And in retrospect, answering a few open-ended questions about it can’t be that hard—the hardest part would be getting your partner to stay awake in class.

A small tap at your side makes you turn to face Riki, who you see has frantically written a page full of notes about the project in the past three minutes and how he can succeed. “Can you go over the first part? Sorry…I was…y’know.”

“It’s a partner project. And we’re partners.” You wince at the awkward wording.

Great! Riki was caught sleeping and that was your first impression of him for your paired assignment? Riki feels so stupid in front of you right now—in front of your meticulous notes with annotations and proper highlighting. He wants to curl up into a ball when he sees you glance over at his haphazard attempt to look like he was paying attention when, in truth, he was trying to remember the dream he had just ten minutes prior. When you offer him a small smile and nod, leaning over with your notebook in hand, he sighs in relief, thanking whoever it was that let him get away with his naps without the consequence of irritating you afterwards.

The bell rings when Mr. Yoo stops talking, and you pause, startled by the sound. Instead of leaving, however, you pack your bag and shuffle to his side of his desk, continuing to parrot details about your report in hopes that it all makes sense. You need to make sure he knows what he’s doing.

“I think one of the questions he mentioned was like ‘Is Gatsby a good person?’ and do you remember how in Chapter Eight…” The rest gets zoned out and forgotten in the boy’s head, because he in fact does not know what happened in Chapter Eight. He doesn’t know what happened…in any part of the book. But he agrees anyway, pretending like he understands what scene you’re trying to explain. What he notices is how thorough and dedicated you are towards ensuring he comprehends what you’re explaining, and although it could be because you don’t want him to fail you both, he chooses to believe you’re doing it because you tolerate him.

You’re so engrossed in covering all the little details and telling him random tidbits regarding the book that you don’t realize your feet have made it all the way to the cafeteria. “But here, let me get your number. I’ll totally explain more over text.”

Riki is definitely not freaking out when he silently grabs his phone and hands it to you with the contact page, staring a little longer than necessary at the cute smiley face you added to your name. “Thanks,” he mumbles, forcibly tearing his eyes away from the ten digits of your number, “For helping me with this, too.”

“Of course! The Great Gatsby is a fun read for me. A little hard to read sometimes because of some of the characters, but still easy to understand.” And Nishimura RIki realizes that he has to do well. He’ll read the book five times over if it means gaining your approval.

Jake notices something a little different about the tuft of black and blonde hair when his friend walks in. The first thing is that he’s actually here, and that you’re next to him, smiling. The boy rubs his eye to make sure he’s not dreaming somehow, but when he looks up again, you’re waving goodbye and joining your friends across the room.

“Did you get hit with something while fighting a villain that makes you more bold? I feel like I just saw you and ____ talking,” Jake starts when Riki finally joins him with his lunch.

Riki laughs, shoving Jake’s head out of embarrassment and opening his chips. “It’s just school. Got some project in English and she says we’re partnered.” He looks over at his friend chuckling, rolling his eyes at how Jake pokes at his side and wiggles his eyebrows.

“I better hear you two are dating by next week.”

“Who’s dating by next week?” Heeseung places his bag of food in front of them and takes a seat, opening the fast food he got last period and stuffing a fry in his mouth.

“Riki and ____. Let me have one,” Jake answers, reaching inside the bag.

Heeseung looks over at his junior curiously. “You asked her out?” And the two older students hear a groan from the boy in question.

“Me and ____ aren’t anything, for your information.” He prods at the vegetables on his tray and takes a bite before a look of displeasure washes over his face. “You’re both way too excited for two guys who do not have girlfriends.”

“Hey! You know the girl I’m always fighting with is the reason why I’m single. I have to focus on studying to do well in school to do better than her.” Heeseung’s whining falls on deaf ears as Riki smiles victoriously, seeing how defensive the former got.

Jake offers him a shrug of defeat. “I got nothing.”

The three of them fall into normal conversation and Riki finally explains everything that happened during English. “So you’re telling me your plan to ask ____ out went down from 18 months to 6?” And with a nod from the younger, they both groan once more. Heeseung exclaims, “We’re both going to graduate, dumbass. Make the plan go down to like…two months? Please?”

Jake cuts in before Riki has a chance to respond. “Make it one and a half, so we can see you with a prom date before leaving forever.”

“You act as if you’re going to die after graduation. It’s like you’re begging to be a super senior.”

And they’re silenced immediately.

“Do you think the guy I was with earlier hates me?” you ask on the other side of the room. Minjeong stares at you blankly, waiting for your explanation. “I don’t know if you saw when I walked in but I was talking to this really tall guy with blonde hair and black tips. He seemed really out of it, like he kept staring at me and nodding. I think I scared him off by talking about the book too much.”

Sunghoon, who is also listening in, opens his neatly packed lunchbox and begins mixing his noodles. “I think you did scare him off, ____.”

“Not helping,” Minjeong interjects, “Just talk to him more and maybe he’ll warm up to you. You two sit together in class anyways, so hopefully he’ll talk more?”

“I know him,” Sunghoon comments, “Well, sort of. I’m friends with Jake who’s friends with Riki, and it seems like all that boy does is sleep.”

“Maybe he’s really good at subconscious in-class comprehension?” you try, taking a bite of your sandwich. “I just hope it doesn’t interfere too much with treasurer stuff.”

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE IF HE SWINGS INTO ANOTHER WALL AT 100MPH LIKE HOW HE ALMOST DID TONIGHT.

All he’s had on his mind since school ended till now is how he should probably text you, if he really discarded the slimy acid monster from last week properly, and when the prom theme is going to be released, but there’s something amiss that confuses his spidey-senses and makes Riki much more alert.

He snaps out of whatever train of thought he had before, focusing on the situation at hand and looking around to follow his instinct. Riki cautiously plants himself on the side of a random apartment building to get a sense of what's going on. A tingle of some sort of in the air permeates the material of his suit and leaves him shivering from the cold.

He doesn't like it one bit.

Moving to the side of the building to the top, the boy finally catches a glimpse of something when he gets a decent view of the city and highway systems. Riki knows something’s wrong with the bridge the closer he gets. He zips from one side of the tall, metal tower to the other, crawling down on all fours making sure he isn’t caught. He feels the electric feeling once more, only amplified. It runs up his spine and he wants to slap it, almost like a frantic, summertime bug. The air around him is charged with something he has never recognized before. With a puzzled expression under his mask, Riki continues to investigate the surrounding area.

Riki finds a lone figure with some sort of attachment to his left arm, like a long glove made out of metal. The bulkiness of it seems to have no impact on his body as the man fiddles with the contraption, and the boy watches with bated breath as the machine fizzes and spurts with electricity. It begins to glow as power concentrates on his plated palm and the superhero sees it for the first time. It’s like a fizz, like a match striking at fire only to produce a quick burst of friction, but it almost feels liquid when he watches the person play with the flickering blue ball of electricity. It dances in the dark in a hauntingly beautiful way, with bolts jutting out from the metal as it spurts and buzzes with a life-like manner.

A spark.

“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sound of Riki’s voice from the end of the bridge causes the stranger to look up with wide eyes. Although Riki fully expects it to simply enhance strength or block damage, the immediate strike of blue that flies straight towards him is anything but defensive. With a yelp, he jumps away, this time refusing to show himself.

What the hell was that?

He knows he should go back down there to change things and get the person and the metal pieces away before it escalates, but when he goes back down to watch, it's ten times worse. The bright blue illuminates the scarred face of the villain as he’s picked up the metal arm–but this time, it’s no longer clunky and sparking, but fused into his arm.

Riki’s face pales at the sudden change before his body acts on its own and he shoots out a web to stop the man.

The villain is shocked by the intrusion, but quickly yanks free from the webbing and flicks another bolt of electricity, one that flies much faster now that the metal flows into the arm instead of simply resting on the skin. It’s unlike something Riki has ever seen, something that is so controlled in motion and yet so erratic in nature, and it instills a deathly fear when it grazes his arm he hisses in pain. The sharp feeling springs Riki into action as he jumps away. He’s lucky another bolt isn’t sent his way, seeing how the villain’s too busy marveling at the power of his new gadget.

“You know that fucking hurts, right?” He yells out, cupping his wound. “Maybe leave the gadgets to the kids!”

The man scoffs. “It better have hurt. I sacrificed half my body for this to work.”

“But why?” All Riki wants is answers. Some sort of explanation.

The man charges up yet another bolt, almost like a laser gun is built into the machine. “Less talking, more running, Spiderman.”

That scared the shit out of him.

The boy doesn’t have time to think as he jumps out from the dark tunnel to the bridge and up the metal towers—he hates having to fight with people right below. The villain follows in pursuit, almost crumbling the metal with his engineered arm as he hoists himself quickly. Riki continues to jump between the structure to avoid the flashes, trying to get out and apprehend the man as quickly as possible. When he reaches the top, however, he feels death is near as he glances down at the villain below who’s quickly gaining on him. He shoots out webs to slow him temporarily, letting himself fall and swing from the side of the tower to escape.

What he doesn’t see on the way across the bridge is the flash that misses his cheek and hits his thigh instead. It burns, and mid-air, Riki gives the wound a quick assessment before he lands on the metal, immediately forcing his body to climb. While dealing with his wound, he fails to notice the villain swinging from the bridge support lines to meet him.

He needs to end this fast before he becomes burnt toast.

Riki doesn’t often rely on instinct to carry him, but he can tell that the villain he’s facing isn’t just a criminal.

“Land another hit, would you?” he tries to say, his voice strained from the pain in his arm and leg. It doesn’t do much to deter the man in front of him as the arm continues to destroy and bend the metal on the way up. “What are you going to do now, Sparky?”

The man says nothing, charging energy into his metal glove again before aiming and focusing on the target: him.

Riki jumps off, not able to properly land his web in the right spot as he goes from one section of the bridge to the other. The man behind him looks enraged at the boy’s attempt to escape—so much so that he reaches out with his normal hand to try to grasp the suit when Spider-Man swings past him. Instead of the feeling of fabric, the villain feels sticky spider fluid on his fingers. Riki shoots out a web, one that curls around the villain’s wrist and drags him off the tower. Instead of being able to launch him into the surrounding waters, the man slips from the poorly shot-out webs and falls from mid air into the sea of frantic cars, including one semi truck that collides directly with his arm. In the air, the boy winces when he hears honks and shouts from the impact, hoping it’s the last time he’ll have to witness it.

With his gaze trained on the falling figure, the weakly attached web breaks, and Riki all of a sudden starts falling down as well. He curls up defensively before bracing for impact, curling into himself when he feels the metal dent and the truck driver scream from outside of the parked vehicle, the body of the villain right in front of it.

Riki staggers, holding onto his arm and thigh the best he can before getting up. With wobbly steps and a small jump, he lands near the unconscious man, whose metal arm is cracked and fizzling—something that Riki knows is bound to leave more scars.

“Call the police. I’ll get rid of the pieces.” Although Riki wants to figure out who the criminal is and make sure he’s properly apprehended, the gashes in the boy's limbs leave him winded and exhausted. With hot metal scraps bound together by webbing in his hands, Riki swings out and dumps it somewhere rural, trying his best to cover the pieces with the pounding headache that

Riki revisits the secluded spot under the bridge, looking for clues to the man’s identity, and his expression falls when he notices a lanyard dangling near a trash can.

His name, his position, and the company. FLiGHT Corp. The company name caught the boy’s eye, and he pockets the item before leaving.

It seemed like he was a normal research scientist, but Riki’s recollection of the scars and tattered skin leaves him retracting his last thought. He heard something about the failure of a time travel machine at FLiGHT, and if the mass of the incident was anything to go by, he was in the center of it.

No matter how many times Riki tries to get it out of his head, on the way home, all he can think about is the inexperience he displayed and the lack of response he gave Riki during the whole time. But Riki can’t bring himself to really take away someone’s life—and maybe for that, he’s a horrible superhero.

He knows he should stop the man before it's too late, and especially with how many self-proclaimed villains there have been, it's not easy to see so many innocent people ruin their lives chasing a power that inevitably consumes them. He knows it’ll only get worse if he lets them run free.

And while the superhero has never been fully honest with himself, there are many times where Riki hates his role as Spider-Man, and wishes that he was just some teenage boy who didn't have the lives of others in his palm. He wishes he didn't have to sacrifice so much to stay behind a mask—and he wonders deep down if there’s anyone else who felt the same.

His swings lead him across the city above hundreds of lives he has to protect, and he tries to find some semblance of peace. He thinks about how he has his homework due despite having just risked his life, he thinks about how your project is going—and about you.

In the night under the stars, Nishimura Riki wishes for something just a bit normal. He wishes a good night for himself, but also for you, wherever you could be.

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM TRYING TO READ THIS BOOK IN ONE NIGHT.

The Great Gatsby is exactly like how you described it; a little hard to get through but fun with the plot’s eccentric characters. He’s pretty sure he could’ve just used a detailed SparkNotes explanation for the book, but having a crush can make someone do weird things. And in Nishimura Riki’s case, his infatuation has got him reading a novel about morally-skewed characters and rich society to impress you.

When you come into class barely on time, Riki gives you a confused look when you sit down, but doesn’t comment on it any further. Instead, he takes out his book and tries to act like his eyes weren’t closing shut from exhaustion by the time Daisy was finally confessing how she loved Gatsby.

The moment Mr. Yoo stops talking, however, Riki isn’t asleep��much to your surprise. He has his book out, pages filled with sticky notes and a whole section of his notebook dedicated to characters (written in bright red to keep him awake) and their traits.

“I got it.” It’s the first thing he says when you two are left to do in-class work. It’s ominous, and maybe a little too enthusiastic in a high school literature class for a boy who doesn’t even care that much for school, but you’ll accept it with open arms if it means you get a helping hand on your project.

“Continue,” you tell him slowly, leaning back in your chair to listen to him. And you don’t know why, but a small part of you thinks that the boy who sleeps every period the book was discussed wouldn’t have much to say or contribute to such an open-ended prompt, but life is full of surprises.

What you fail to notice is how Riki is nervous and his stomach does at least twenty flips before he swallows dryly and starts rambling in hopes to impress you and redeem himself from his embarrassing slumber a few days ago.

“So you know how our prompt is based on one character and basically all their actions?” he asks, and you nod, absentmindedly thumbing a sheet in your journal. “I’m thinking we should talk about Jay Gatsby because so much is revealed to us about him that we might as well use it to our advantage. Y’know, talking about how the theme of exploitation and secrets is veiled under Gatsby’s desire for Daisy.”

“You don’t think Gatsby’s a good character?” Riki wants to tell you that Gatsby is more relatable than good or bad, but he shakes his head.

“I mean, not really.” He feels like with those four words, he’s completely changed the trajectory of his relationship with you from a positive slope to completely downhill—and a wave of panic washes over him. “Should I? I mean, I could see him as more redeemable if you gave me examp-“

You wave your hand to quell his worries. “To be honest, I don’t like him either. But he’s an interesting main character to write about, so I think we should go with your idea.”

To win your approval feels like he’s won at least three fights against a villain in a row without getting any bad injuries—it feels good. And for the rest of the period, you are able to finish a detailed outline of your work for the next few weeks, mapping out sections for each other, and he even gets to see a part of prom planning on a word document you had open. He considers your shared productivity a win when he packs up and bids you goodbye before leaving for lunch.

One wave doesn’t catch Riki’s attention from across the room. Not even two, or three calls of his name could get Nishimura Riki out of his thoughts, and Jake frowns before moving up in the lunch line.

“Something’s caught your eye again.” Jake feigns innocence and sighs dramatically as he places the food down next to Riki’s plate. “Could it possibly be our school treasurer?” Jake laughs, leaning over to catch a glimpse of what’s got his friend so entranced and non-responsive.

Riki scrunches his nose, annoyed, but never breaking his gaze from where you’re sitting. “We talked in class–like, a lot,” is all he says, paying his friend no mind. “She’s genuinely so understanding.”

“God, I don’t think you can be any more down bad for her than you are right now.” Jake picks at his food, and despite his concentration directed towards the olives on his pizza, he’s able to dodge the flying loaded nacho that goes his way, even if he wasn’t the one with superpowers.

“Can you shut up?” Riki grumbles, laying his head on his arms as he notices you smile and point to something. “I just got pummeled into a semi truck last week. Let me have this before I die tomorrow.”

“Very grim,” his friend notes, ruffling the younger’s hair, “I think this is exactly what all of those mental health assemblies that we get are for.” And Riki basically tunes him out, too tired to fight and too used to the teasing remarks to come up with anything useful in response.

Riki sits up a bit, letting his head rest on his propped elbow as he looks at the school food and touches another nacho gingerly. “Y’know, I read the book for English so she wouldn’t think I’m an idiot.”

His friend snickers, successfully pulling out yet another sliced olive from the cheese, much to the disgust of Riki. “She probably already thinks you’re an idiot.”

The superhero debates throwing another cheesy nacho in Jake's face, before deciding to eat it instead. “Don’t say that asshole! You make it seem like I have no chance with her.”

Jake shoots him an exasperated look that makes Riki break eye contact. “That’s because you don’t.”

“I’ll prove to her that I’m worth her time.” Riki says somewhat wistfully, still stealing glances from a few tables away. “Maybe I’ll ask her out to prom, show up in my suit. Do that cheesy upside down kiss shit people say Spiderman does.” When his friend raises an eyebrow at him, Riki shrugs. “I will! Well-maybe not the Spider-Man thing, but prom definitely.”

Jake continues to look at him unconvinced as he takes a bite out of a slice of pizza with mangled cheese. “You barely talk to her in class and you think you can ask her out to prom as Nishimura Riki?” And the younger grins, eyes still stuck on how your eyes crinkle and how your shoulders shake with laughter.

“Yup.” And his fate is sealed, just like that.

“What’s your project about, anyways? Didn’t you tell me last night that she gave you her number? Must be pretty serious if she wants to text you.” Riki furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head.

“It’s just tying the theme of the book to one character and writing about how they show it. So we did the theme of money and Gatsby, because it’s easy and mentioned so many times.”

Jake gawks. “You must really like her,”

“I was planning to read it regardless of who I was partnered with.”

“Okay- that’s debatable.” There goes another one of Riki’s nachos.

“Gross.”

He thinks things are going pretty well for you two. The report is being written and your quotes are basically finding themselves, so Riki should give himself a pat on the back for pitching the initial idea for how to go about your assignment. Maybe reading the whole book offered him a few useful pointers, and he goes to sleep that night satisfied with your progress. Maybe Heeseung and Jake were right—maybe he could finally ask you out by prom.

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO SAVE THE CITY FROM YET ANOTHER MONSTER TERRORIZING THE STREETS.

He wakes up the next morning, not expecting his alarm to alert his senses to danger. It rings in his head and makes him feel delirious, trying to shake sleep off as he looks out the window for any visible sign of what's wrong. If he could hear the danger in his head then that meant someone could be hurt, and he could go to school without a few hours of sleep if he worked fast enough, right?

Riki slips into his suit without much thought and goes to crack his window open, only to look back at his clock and read the horrific time of 6:23AM.

Who the hell picks a fight with a teenager at this ungodly time?

Then, he shoots from his wrists, once, twice, and suddenly, he's off, covering more ground through the air in just three seconds than he ever could while walking or running for minutes on end.

The source of his tingling spidey-sense is some large metal centipede creature that was setting off car alarms in a neighborhood near the market. Thankfully, no one was really awake to be caught in the crossfire, but he has to figure out how the hell he's going to catch that thing in...he checks his watch…twenty minutes?

Hopefully, his instinct will help him win this time—again.

The web he shoots out does nothing to stop the monster, and considering how it connected them both, the threads only drag the superhero to the edge of the building he was initially watching from. With some yelling and pulling, he finally detaches, and realizes that the odd sizzling feeling in his bonds must be from the same source as a few days ago; Spark.

He had this gut feeling that a villain as strong as him wouldn’t have been destroyed so easily, but his wounds were so deep and the blood loss so bad from a few nights ago that he couldn’t have truly dumped him in the ocean without fainting or suffering something permanent, and although Riki hoped things in the universe would work itself out, the presence of the giant fifty foot insect alone is proof that things were not in his favor.

He jumps off the building onto another, working quickly as he strings up a few webs between the houses as a wall for the monster, watching it slide and knock over cars in its wild pursuit. The monster spends a few seconds breaking down the wall of webbing and climbing over it, the many legs easily breaking through. As the superhero jumps across buildings and keeps track of the centipede’s movement, he has no idea why it isn’t going for him, and that makes his job much harder without the attention of the monster. One glance at the direction the centipede is headed in sets off another ding in Riki’s head—but this time, it finally clicks why the centipede is headed away from the boy.

It’s attracted to the power plant.

Riki immediately jumps and swings off of a lamp post, using the momentum of gravity and the force of his swing to propel him faster than the slithering creature. Squinting, he holds out his fist and points his pointer and pinky out, following the movement of the centipede as he aims.

Bam.

He sends clusters of silky white threads down precisely at the first pair of legs to pin it down. The webs stop the creature momentarily, and Riki doesn’t have time to watch how the body shrinks up and fizzes out with blue shocks as it tries to wiggle loose and malfunctions. This fight would be over soon, and the boy smiles when he jumps down to shoot more webs to apprehend the centipede. It wiggles and sends electricity out through parts of its body, trying to pry itself out. He expects it to simply be a robot of sorts following a mission considering its avoidant behavior, but as he approaches the tail, the monster suddenly swings at Riki, and its mass and speed is incomparable to the boy’s reaction speed.

Riki lands into a tree and someone’s garage, feeling the crumbling wall falling all over him and the sudden pain blooming in his lower back.

This fight will, in fact, not be over soon.

With his superhuman abilities, Riki grabs onto the metal of the car beside him to hoist himself up, coughing from the dust, and jumping over the rubble to see how quickly the centipede creature can get out, without regard for his current state. The sound and rumble of the giant monster is all he needs to know that the traps are effective, but not at the previous capacity.

The plan is simple: apprehend the legs and crush the head, where Riki assumes the decision-making and programming is taking place. But the monster’s angry and erratic actions throw a wrench in his plan. Its legs move faster, digging into the cement and leaving ruin in its wake as it continues down the road. While both the villain and superhero are fast, the distance between the power plant is finite—and only grows smaller and smaller.

Although Riki can feel the bruises coming, he runs and swings, hearing the wind in his ears as he catches up to the centipede in no time. He tries the same tactics again–aim, shoot, stick, all the while keeping his distance. Although the monster’s body spans incredibly long, and should carry an immense amount of weight, the way it snaps at Riki’s flying body and sends shockwaves through his core leaves him shivering as his body slams into the ground, coughing. It hurts all over, and it feels like there’s weight on his eyes when he tries to open them and get up. His head is spinning as he staggers onto his knees, clutching his chest as he watches the centipede shrivel and crackle.

It seems like the voltage produced is a double-ended sword, one that burns up the centipede body as much as it deals damage, and with the way the mutant creeps towards the electricity of the plant, Riki gets the feeling there’s a magnetic pull that forces the mutant to continue to crawl even against its instinct to stop.

Despite his waning strength, however, Riki knows better than to half finish the job like last time. He creates a net from experience, weaving together the thickest and most durable threads to trap the entirety of the slowly approaching creature. It seems to crawl slowly up the makeshift barrier, knocking its head against the white and spreading the bright blue waves of its energy throughout. The boy watches as the thin white mass absorbs all of it and clings to the creature. It works, finally, after his attempts to nullify its movements, and he knows that despite the ache in his every step, the almost mummified centipede that hangs between several roofs for all the neighbors to gawk at is his sure sign of victory.

All he remembers is hearing a familiar call of his hero name before his legs give out and his head hits Jake’s chest.

Holy fucking shit is the first thing Riki thinks when he wakes up.

He’s not out of his tattered suit and he feels grimy all over, but his body has done wonders in reducing the otherwise fatal injuries he got. No human body should be able to withstand two energy-filled blasts, but his suit and superhuman healing are of greater help than ever in alleviating the damage from his wounds.

He knows why he’s in his bed with bandages thrown over his open wounds. He knows that every time something like this happens, it’s Jake who shoos away the concerned civilians, telling them he’s a medic. Jake is not a medic—rather, he’s a seventeen year-old boy who knows about his friend’s double life and with all the times he’s saved Riki, someone might as well dub him the greatest medic of all time.

The clock on his bedside table has only served as a bearer of bad news. He looks over to see how it’s practically midday, and he’s missed yet another day of school from fighting crime. He’s in no condition to get up or get his bag, seeing how his hair is frizzy and his cheek has a cut that would warrant questioning. It seems only fair that he stays absent, and before he falls back asleep, he only prays you aren’t too mad at him for leaving the seat next to you empty.

But you aren’t mad, just worried. The soreness in his muscles doesn’t go away though, and he groans when he sits up in his bed, with bandages around his arms and an ice pack discarded next to him.

He’s most definitely not coming to school like this.

While you bore holes into the clock hanging off the wall, that doesn’t speed up the time. Two minutes pass, then another minute. As your classmates find their partners and begin discussing, you notice how the room gets louder with the due date looming near. It’s the first time you’re alone without the familiar boy beside you, and something hangs low in your chest when you put in a pair of earphones and open your laptop.

Riki’s absence should have no effect on you. After all, you’re both just high school students who’ve talked once or twice, and yet you still look over at the empty chair. Staring doesn’t make Riki appear, though, and you return to your edits. It feels empty without his insight, or without him asking you to help him with a passage. Riki was your solution to all things boring. If he wasn’t doing his work, then you two were laughing at something on his phone. And if you agreed to both do something other than the report, then you could ask for an extra opinion when deciding prom details. There was something freeing about working with him that attracted you. Riki knew how to lighten the mood on days that weren’t so good for you, but he also worked hard and let loose at the same time. There was a perfect balance in Riki’s life that you aspired to have; it was a good mix of playful, dedicated, and fun all in the same vein.

The words blend together on your screen. Jay Gatsby this, Tom Buchanan that, it all looks monotonous the more you keep trying to read and comprehend what exactly you’re talking about.

Before class is dismissed, Mr. Yoo steps to the front of the classroom to gather everyone’s attention. He introduces your new novel for the next month, explaining yet another large assignment associated with the text.

Truth be told, you don’t pay attention to any of it.

The only thing you remember to do is to grab extra copies of the printed graphic organizers, as you get out of your seat and rush out when class ends in pursuit of one specific boy.

“Sim Jaeyun!” The call of his name diverts Jake’s attention from his phone to your waving arm as you weave through the students and finally reach him.

“You can just call me Jake,” he explains, “what’s up?”

You begin to reach into your backpack, trying to feel for your folder, and pull out a few sheets. “These are for Riki.”

Jake cheers internally for his friend who’s busy recovering at home. “What, you got a crush on him or something?”

He tries to play it cool by teasing you, but the smile you bite back leaves the boy questioning if there really is anything going on. Jake knows better than to tell you anything about Riki’s feelings, and opts to instead grab the papers and to thank you for looking out for his friend.

“Is Riki okay?” You have to know, just to make sure he’ll be here tomorrow to cure your boredom.

What Jake says is much different than the nonchalant wave and half grin he gives you. “He’s just bedridden.”

“That’s pretty serious! Did he come down with anything?” He seemed fine yesterday, so what’s the catch?

He blurts, “He just got badly hurt.”

Immediately, Jake knows he’s fucked up.

Your confusion and silence answers him far more than words ever could–he basically hears the gears turning slowly in your head.

Jake weakly defends, “His parents had a fight with him because he hit his head or something. He’ll be fine by tomorrow. Just bedridden from sadness, y’know?”

The look you give him is unconvinced, but when Heeseung pats him on the shoulder and waves to you, the boy realizes that maybe staying quiet would’ve been the better decision.

“I’ll see you later, ____.” And he’s off, waving half-heartedly and dragging a very confused Heeseung out of the cafeteria.

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO WAKE YOU UP AS GENTLY AS HE CAN.

Ever since March started and flowers began to bloom, your energy seemed to do the opposite, dwindling until Riki catches you mirroring his frequent in-class action: sleeping. And it worries him beyond belief, because you’re not the type to fall asleep like… ever. However, Riki does not have the heart to wake you up, even if it’s with a little nudge that you probably barely feel with how light he taps. It breaks his heart to have to ask you to review what he has done, because the bell is about to ring and the teacher might just send you to detention if he catches you off-task.

The allergies always make Mr. Yoo irritable, and Riki knows not to get on his nerves.

Your eyes flutter open to the pokes and prodding from none other than Nishimura Riki, who gazes at you softly when you adjust to the bright classroom setting once more.

Panic settles in. “Wait- how long was I sleeping for?”

He shrugs and scrunches his nose, not giving you an answer as he finishes scribbling something in his notebook.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Your hand squeezes into a fist at the frustration that you’ve let your partner down.

And yet, Riki seems to be unfazed, frowning when he sees you stressing out. “Don’t ever sweat the little things, yeah? If there’s anything you ever need to talk about–trust me, I know what it’s like to have a lot of pressure on your shoulders.”

Smiling at him, you respond with, “Thank you, really.”

Being treasurer is daunting in the spring. It’s full of requests, forms, and small tasks that leave you spent by the end of the day. “But,” you glance at the clock to see just how much time is left, “how’d you know?”

He motions to your open computer with a now dark screen. “I saw your document pulled up. ____’s tasks or else she will be kicked out of student government,” he taunts, snickering when your eyes grow wide with embarrassment and you lightly nudge his shin with your foot in warning.

“It’s not polite to snoop,” and although you say that, you catch something in your peripheral vision. It’s a few drawings of a figure and gadget drawn, shaded from rigid shapes with small descriptions pointing to different places. You weren’t sure what was more surprising; how good the drawings were, or the subject of his imagination.

Weird. Inherently, there was nothing wrong with Riki drawing a villain, and you chalked it up to him being creative. Nothing more, nothing less.

He puts his hands up in surrender at your last comment, his grin showing anything but. Just one look at the boy makes you realize that everything you’ve just thought about is foolish.

There’s no way he’d have time to be a villain and a student. With one final thought, you let your raging thoughts rest and focus on the present; him. You’ve seen his hair messy, especially after his naps, but when Riki tries to style it like how he did today, you pay more attention to the streaks of blonde and how he often hides behind his bangs and scrunches his nose. It’s cute. He’s cute.

The truth is, you enjoy being around him like this, joking around and never worrying too much about your responsibilities and expectations. It’s refreshing. Being around Riki gives you the feeling that things will be okay in the end.

You snap out of your thoughts to see that his desk is empty, while your’s hasn’t changed one bit.

“You’re going to sell prom tickets now, right?” He makes small talk before leaving for lunch, closing the notebook you were suspiciously eying before slipping it into his bag.

“Yup,” you answer, popping the ‘p,’ “I’ll see you later,” and you two part ways.

All the long lines and constant distribution of change doesn’t allow much wiggle room for you to daydream. As time goes on, the ticket-selling line grows smaller and smaller, but the only thing you truly care about is eating the lunch your parents packed you. Your sandwich is probably sad and soggy now that there are only a few minutes of lunch left. When you finally sign off one last time after triple checking the forms are all correct, you let out a sigh, leaning back and finally getting a break.

Then, it hits you that you’re not even sure if the boy you’re fawning over is attending the biggest event of the year, and you feel stupid for forgetting to ask.

Yesterday was a rookie’s mistake–today, you’d make sure you get an answer from him.

“Are you going to prom, Riki?” is the first thing you ask when he sits down, grabbing his book and laptop with a little too much enthusiasm.

“I’m thinking about it.” Yeah, whatever confidence he had when convincing himself he’d ask you out isn’t serving him well at this moment. Quite frankly, Riki feels lame as ever trying to be nonchalant around you. “You?”

“I’d have to set up, so I would be there, yes. But whether or not I have a date is another story.” You smile to lighten the mood, but Riki watches you and nods, focusing back on signing into his laptop and getting his notes for the new book you’re reading.

“Well, you’re not the only single one here.” And he wants to reprimand himself for saying something without thinking. “If someone asked, would you say yes?”

You think about it carefully, really because you don’t have anyone in mind when it comes to prom if Riki’s not planning on going. “It’d have to be someone I know—someone I talk to somewhat regularly. I’d be nice to be with someone who doesn’t make it awkward.”

Nishimura Riki might die from over-thinking if he keeps on wondering whether or not he fits that description to a tee.

RIKI'S TO-DO LIST BEFORE PROM

☐ talk to ____ regularly

☐ don't make it awkward

☐ be..cute?

The boy decides that his superhuman responsibilities might be easier to complete than any of those three things.

He switches the subject to stop his head from hurting too much. “Did you finish the report?”

You still, and Riki’s question reminds you of the report looming over your head. In your defense, you two hadn’t brought it up much in the past week, and he didn’t seem to worry over how much of your time was spent emailing teachers or making spreadsheets. Although caught off guard, you’re quick to respond with, “What did we have to finish? I thought we were done since last week, but if there’s anything else-”

“Sorry,” he rushes out, biting his lip, “I meant, if you finished reading it.” And the answer is no, you haven’t read it since your last edit on it three days ago.

Within a few clicks, you find the document and scroll to the bottom, seeing the small note that Riki left that said ‘let me know how it looks.’ It’s sweet to know he thought about your input as much as you did his.

“While some can agree that Gatsby’s rise into high society was sketchy, Gatsby still retains the same reserved character from years ago, and doesn’t manipulate others into success or use his money for nefarious purposes. It’s not like he changed after his wealth, and it could be argued Gatsby loved Daisy until his last breath and was willing to die as long as she was happy, emphasizing the theme of sacrifice.

So, is Jay Gatsby a good person? The question targets the morality of a character who many can empathize with. Those who are charmed by his overwhelming love for Daisy would say that he’s committed textbook crimes, but focus more on the intent behind it. To pine after someone from a distance isn’t easy, but to pursue her after years of separation is even harder. It’s universally agreed, however, that love as a driving force doesn’t nullify what he’s done to others and the dirty schemes he’s enacted to gain the power he has. Therefore, Gatsby makes for an interesting main character, and highlights just how twisted a system around money can be.”

The last page is–for the most part–his writing, and your admiration for him grows when you finish reading and scroll to hit your Works Cited page.

“It’s good,” you tell him wholeheartedly, “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Riki cracks a smile at your light teasing, soaking up your praise.

“Now you know.” He shrugs. And he can only hope that you like him as much as you like his literary skills.

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE COMES TO THE REALIZATION THAT HE IS EXACTLY LIKE JAY GATSBY,JUST WITHOUT THE MONEY—DESPERATE FOR THE GIRL OF HIS DREAMS, DYING YOUNG, AND A FRAUD HIDING BEHIND SECRETS.

Nevermind the last one, he has to hide when he has an identity to protect as the city’s only superhero, but Riki feels his heart sink to his heels when he read a few weeks ago how much Gatsby simply adores Daisy. When Gatsby died, he scoffed, closing the book with a sudden disinterest. If he were the male lead, he wouldn’t have been laying in a pool for target practice. Maybe being a superhero teaches you how to avoid being easy bait for all your enemies, or maybe Gatsby was too carried away with love to think straight.

Fighting crime gives you insurmountable experience with sneaking around, but it wasn’t something he could just teach to anyone. When he gets this horrible gut feeling that something’s happened to you, he just knew something was wrong. He might not be easy to catch, but for anyone else? Definitely.

For everyone else, prom was a month away, but for you, it was three weeks of talking to your advisor and president, arguing with your other board members, and sitting behind that damn money box for another five days to sell tickets. For you, it was realizing that you were supposed to buy streamers and balloons yesterday on your way home from school. It was the thinly veiled disappointment in your board member’s texts when they told you they were at a loss for words. ‘I’m sorry, and I know you’re busy, but how could you forget? Prom is so important for all of us. What if they don’t have what you need anymore?’ It all repeated in your head as you bit your lip in frustration and slipped on the first pair of shoes you could find. Although it was dark and dangerous, you could care less if it meant avoiding the passive aggressive comments you’d get tomorrow during your meeting.

There it is again: that little tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings.

You yelp when you feel someone grabbing your wrist and pulling you in, muffling your screams as he pulls you along. To see him on the news was worrying, but to see Spark in person with your life on the line is even worse.

Tears spring to your eyes as you struggle against the metal to no avail, and you curse every previous moment you spent worrying about balloons rather than your safety.

Spark suddenly stops, shoving you against the wall before his hand grabs a brick with his metal arm, beginning to climb. “Don’t let go.” And you don’t think twice before holding on.

The city view would be beautiful if you weren’t hearing your heartbeat in your ears or if you weren’t dangling from the railing of some company building, trying to wiggle yourself free of the rope around your wrists.

Spark speaks up, drumming his fingers on the railing next to you. “You wouldn’t happen to know where your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is, would you?” And you furrow your eyebrows, genuinely questioning for a moment if he really knew how the superhero operated.

A voice from across the street puts a temporary hold on your thoughts, and you glance up to see a flash of blue and red soaring through the air, followed by a groan and a beam of light next to you. Seeing Spark’s powers right in front of you spurs you into action, yanking at the rope and trying to take tiny steps away from where they were fighting.

“From what I’m seeing, you wanted to hold someone hostage because you’re not feeling too good, huh?” Spider-Man shouts as he shoots out webs and blocks hits. You shake your head in partial disbelief of how unserious he is, but also how unbelievable all of this seems. “You tried to take a potion or something? I’m going to tell you this now, but these usually don’t work.”

Riki’s assumption is right, and considering how Spark now has a leg and arm from metal instead of just the arm, the procedure for the additional limb couldn’t have been easy. The superhero still proceeds with caution, making sure to pay attention to anything new as he dodges and fights back.

The villain immediately gets back up, stumbling for a moment before he regains his stance and runs towards the boy. You hear the clanging of fist hitting metal from their fight, and considering the difference in height and build, you’d expect Spider-Man to be easily flung to the side, but he holds his weight in battle.

Riki aims for around the left shoulder, where an abundance of stitches cover the skin and fuse the metal into muscle. He lands a hit, and almost another one, before a punch to the side knocks him from his momentum. The boy wheezes when his back makes instant contact with the ground, rolling and getting up before Spark has time to shoot.

He notices how quickly the gadget generates electricity now. Before, the beams took longer, and were easily predictable, but now, it glows bright for a moment before it fires directly in Riki’s path. The boy dodges the first, but the second one almost hits the top of his head before he ducks and creates distance.

From the roof-top, Riki scans his surroundings before making the split-second decision to jump.

He swings to the other side of the building, keeping you in his peripheral vision as he works on apprehending the villain in front of him. They spring into yet another fist fight, with Riki’s agility easily letting him avoid punches and land precise hits to make the previous injuries even worse.

You think Spider-Man has the upper hand in this, seeing as how none of Spark’s punches seem to slow down the superhero, but you hear something loud before you can register it.

You figure out what happened after Riki stumbles and suffers a blow to the stomach, sending him tumbling to the edge of the building. Spark knew that Spider-Man was avoiding his left arm—he knew that one wrong move paired with the tungsten material would have a lasting effect on the superhero’s fist.

Riki coughs from the impact before his spidey-sense rings, pulling him back into battle as he runs as fast as his body can take him.

You. He still needs to save you.

With renewed vigor, he continues to avoid the flying sparks as he ducks between structures and uses the terrain to his advantage. He can tell, though, that the villain is slowing down. The shots are less accurate–a telltale sign that the enhancer Spark tried is working against him.

Between all of the chaos, Riki finally lands a proper web, yanking as hard as he can to pull Spark to the ground. He stumbles, grasping at thin silk before Riki lets go on his side. The villain’s balance is off, giving the boy an advantage as he closes the distance, hopping over a thrown slab of metal and landing a solid kick into Spark’s ribcage. As he stays down, Riki continues to aim for muscle and flesh, his head spinning as he packs punch after punch to keep the villain apprehended.

Spark’s body–curled into itself to absorb the hits the best that he can– hides the growing blue flash that he’s slowly charging up with his remaining power. The moment it escapes from under his abdomen, Riki directs his efforts towards avoiding the electric glimmer. The villain rolls over, his body tattered from the consistent injuries, and he fires what seems like an intense bullet of energy. It zips by the boy’s cheek, cutting the mask and leaving blood to run down in its wake. Time slows down as the superhero tries to process the unlocked speed of the burst, and Spark loses focus marveling at his new abilities. Never before had either of them seen power so concentrated, and it inflicts both fear and excitement.

He lifts his arm, the other holding it up for support, and Spider-Man notices the fizzle of bright blue. Riki’s about to jump out of the way, preparing for yet another high-speed bullet, but before Spark fires, something clicks. The arm doesn’t directly point to Riki–but it skews off to the right.

Except, he’s no longer aiming for Riki in the split second that the boy blinks. He’s suddenly aiming at you, where your hands are tied to the railing and your feet are dangling from the bent metal that holds you precariously over the edge, leaving a fifty foot drop in its wake. When you see the blue energy in the villain’s palm growing slowly bigger, you pull at the rope desperately with zero regard to the tender rawness of your wrists.

In your attempt to somehow break the rope, your cry of fear snaps Spider-Man into action.

Riki pushes his sore body to jump as quick as he can, leaping across the rooftop to the building over. He easily avoids the metal railing, grabbing onto your arm as he yanks hard on the rope, the force of it separating a piece of metal from the railing. He immediately jumps, sending out a web to swing him back up. It all happens in a flash–first, you were bound to the edge about to fall to your death, and all of a sudden, you’re tightly pressed against Spider-Man’s chest with your bound wrists still attached to the metal. Shutting your eyes, you trust Spider-Man entirely, closing your eyes to avoid seeing just how far up you were. Wind rushes in your ears and leaves your stomach fluttering with butterflies until the superhero sets you down on a secluded rooftop.

“Please,” he begs, “don’t leave. I’ll be right back.”

You’d be a fool to do anything but wait.

Riki checks on you one last time before diving down, springing himself back up with another web. The damage from the blasts is recognizable even from far away, and yet, he notices the reflective shine of a metal arm on the edge of the building before Spark lets go.

To Riki, Spark is dead after dropping from a fall having taken that much damage, but he hears no impact. Making haste, the boy fails to find any figure no matter how hard he looks, but Spark’s laboratory has to be here somewhere. The badge from a week ago was stuck on Riki’s mind, and he could only imagine the reasons why he pursued this life. Was he recreating something? If he needs to power some sort of machine, then the heart of the city is a perfect place to harness the electricity for any large scale project. As much as he wants to dedicate the rest of the night to searching the city for some sort of clue, the fact that you’re still stranded on that rooftop after having just experienced a life-changing event blares like an alarm in his mind.

He quickly leaves, returning to where you’re seated.

Without the fear of falling to your death from earlier, you were able to focus on undoing the knots from the rope. Red scratch marks and irritation bloom on your wrist, and the reality of it all happening still hasn’t settled in. Despite not being harmed once, the fear and incessant pounding of your heart overwhelms your senses, and it leaves you heaving with confusion.

A pair of footsteps only become apparent as Riki walks closer, taking a seat beside you and letting out a large sigh. He stares at the stars silently as if he doesn’t have a cut on his cheek and bruises waiting to paint his skin purple–as if he isn’t hiding his true self under a facade.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” You shake your head, grateful that Spider-Man was the reason you got away without a real injury.

“Thank you, really, for saving me. I don’t know how you manage to do it.”

Riki chuckles under the mask. “Eh, you get used to it,” you hear Spider-Man say. “You fight a couple bad guys, get over a fear of heights and eventually you get the hang of things.”

Scoffing, you gently rub at your wrists to ease the redness. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t been taught a crash course on how to avoid being supervillain bait just yet.”

“Maybe you should learn it sometime,” Riki responds absentmindedly, “someone like you shouldn’t have been out so late doing whatever it could’ve been.”

Sighing, your mind drifts off to think about the balloons and streamers that are not in your hand. “I had stuff for my upcoming events.”

He knew about all of it when you’d explain your cryptic reminders and notes on your computer, but he still feigns curiosity. “What upcoming events?”

“Just prom,” and he hears just how strained it makes you.

Riki tilts his head in faux confusion. “What do you have to do for prom?”

He notices how you immediately slump, as if the mere mention of prom deflates your happiness. “It’s only a few weeks away, and I was supposed to get decorations for our venue yesterday. I just wanted to slip out before my parents noticed.”

Despite the fabric over his eyes, Riki’s expression shifts from surprise to pity when he understands your stakes. “You still need to be careful. Is your student council strict?”

“Not strict necessarily, but judgemental–I ran for the position because I thought I could help my school raise funds and find more opportunities, but it just feels like no one truly wants to try anything new.” You wave it off as if it’s not that important, as if it isn’t the reason why you find yourself stressed so often. “I just don’t want to disappoint or give people something to talk about.”

Despite not being involved with school the same way you are, the boy next to you resonates with the fear you currently face. The fear of letting people down was a large part of why Riki continued to put on that mask and step into the most dangerous situation of his life; he never wanted to sit down to hear the news that Spider-Man quit.

So he keeps doing his job, even if some days are harder and some fights aren’t worth winning–just like what you do.

“Yeah, I get that,” he tries to console, “You must be doing a lot for everyone around you, and I’m sure a lot of people appreciate what you’ve done. Don’t beat yourself up too much, yeah? You’ll always have me.” He smiles, but he knows you don’t see it. You’re looking at the stars, trying to calm your mind and return to your life before everything happened.

You glance over at Spider-Man, wondering if he’ll truly be around for you when you need it. “If I need to talk to you, should I step out of my house past 8PM again?”

Riki chuckles, watching clouds slowly dim the moon’s glow in their path. “If I’m not fighting crime, I’ll show up at a moment’s notice.”

There’s no way he means it, but you grin, feeling a lot of the pressure and stress of earlier slowly wash away. After all, nothing happened to you–Spider-Man made sure of it. Maybe things really were going to be okay.

“Let’s get you home, yeah? Don’t you have stuff to do anyways?”

You shrug, nothing really coming to mind. As you get up, you remember having to run a plagiarism check on your work, and how Riki told you to text him when you got home after your student government meeting.

Riki. Spark. Spider-Man.

“Wait,” you tell Spider-Man, sitting back down on the cement, “I need to talk to you about something else, too.”

“It’s not like my dinner’s getting cold,” the superhero mumbles quiet enough that you can’t hear.

“There’s this guy,” you start, paying no mind to how dirty your clothes are getting when you cross your legs.

Spider-Man scoffs, looking off into the distance, and it makes you believe he has to be your age or older. “You have a crush on him, or something?” And a whole tidal wave of deja vu hits you in the chest.

‘He must be badly hurt’ isn’t just something people say. People don’t just draw insanely detailed drawings of Spark’s arm and machines without notes to follow unless they knew. People wouldn't just randomly miss school without any impending signs. You’re sure of it–the tired naps in class, the random drawings of superheroes and superhumans alike, or how awkward he could act–it all makes sense.

Your classmate, aka Nishimura Riki, aka the guy who you’ve questioned if you had a crush on for the past few days, might be a villain.

The swirling feeling of trepidation in your stomach leaves three words running around your head.

What. The. Fuck.

Although you tried so hard to stop thinking about it, Jake’s comment from before rubbed you the wrong way. It was sometime last week where you couldn't get your mind off of the implications of his words, but that feeling was brushed underneath your responsibilities.

Until now.

“Yeah, there’s this guy,” you breathe, feeling your chest constrict, “Nishimura Riki. I think he’s Spark.”

His blood runs cold.

“You think this…why?”

You take a deep breath, trying to organize all your thoughts. “Well, first, it was his friend, Jake. He said that Riki was badly hurt, and I was really confused at first, but tried to let it go.”

Riki was going to strangle his best friend.

“And then, I was looking at him in class, right? And keep in mind, he’s pretty cute, and we sit next to each other, so I just noticed how good his hair looked that day, but his notebook was out, and I saw all these drawings of Spark. Like, the arms, the metal things, even the projectiles! Who would know the ins and outs of that thing if it wasn’t Spark himself?”

He didn’t know what to think about first; the fact that you gushed about him for the first time, or if he should even tell you that Spider-Man would know those things, too.

“And sometimes, I notice he’s a little awkward around me. I can’t explain it. It’s like he’s paying attention to me. That must’ve been why he captured me.” He wants to laugh at how damn close you are to figuring it out, but in reality, nothing is funny about the situation.

Nishimura Riki is actually listening to this, right now, as Spider-Man–not Spark. The awkwardness, though? It was his crush on you, and was not superhuman related in the slightest.

“I don’t know,” he attempts to divert, pretending to focus, “I saw a badge for FLiGHT. You know the company that’s been making time traveling machines? I saw a glimpse of his name and face. It’s not that guy you mentioned.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And you haven’t gotten him caught?”

“Villains aren’t easy to find, y’know. It’s not like playground hide and seek,” Riki defends, crossing his arms.

You shrink in your spot, feeling sheepish for questioning a superhero so bluntly.

“Plus,” he continues, “Spark has never had a hostage. Wouldn’t it be pretty mean of that friend of yours to kidnap a girl from his class?”

“Yeah—that makes sense. Thank god,” you breathe, closing your eyes momentarily. “Then what do you suspect all that evidence leads to? Maybe he’s a secret agent?”

“I think,” Riki continues to keep up his clueless facade, “Your friend might just be clumsy. Or creative. I mean, maybe he went through a break-up?” Nice one, Riki.

You shake your head. “No, there’s no way he has a girlfriend. You’d think I like guys who are taken?” Scoffing lightly, you then remembered that Spider-Man really would have no idea who any of you are.

He shrugs and stands up stretching before motioning for you to follow him. “I have no idea what you high school kids do. Come on, let’s get you home.”

As you hug him tight, the cold air whips around your body and leaves goosebumps in their wake. You barely open your eyes from the fear of seeing yourself inches from hitting a building or up in the air. Spider-Man only yells his confirmation after asking how to get you home, finally placing you on the ground outside of your large gate.

“Thank you for saving me tonight.”

“Anytime. Figure things out with that friend of yours, and don’t go out late, okay?” You nod and take his words to heart.

“Goodnight, Spiderman.”

—-

Nishimura might die. One, because he has this horrible guilty feeling in his stomach, and two, because of a villain.

Yesterday, he ignored the salmon and rice bowl that waited for him back at home, choosing to follow the coordinates he saved on his phone after he took you home. It led him to a seemingly harmless auto-shop, with an arrow on his GPS pointing to a garage that was shut down completely with nails and blocked with boxes. The exterior pointed to it being abandoned, but Riki suddenly saw some light coming from a makeshift above.

The boy scaled the wall as quietly as possible, glancing into the source of the whirring. He caught small glimpses of something–metal, glowing, blue.

Or at least, for a few seconds it was on until the power went out.

The voice that complained from inside the room sounded identical to the man Riki fought. Spark grumbled, turning on a flashlight and quickly waving it around. Riki ducked from the window and held his breath, waiting for the man to suspect something.

Nothing.

One lightbulb slowly flickered back on, and then the other dingy light followed. The space was cramped with the metal equipment in the middle, resembling what Riki had seen in the news.

He was right–it was the same time travel portal that was ruined from a few months ago.

Spider-Man continued to observe the man as he worked and drilled, plugging certain wires or pausing momentarily to read from a journal. To anyone, it’d seem peaceful, like some sort of renovation project. But in reality, it was so much more than that.

Riki searched for any sort of information about the machine, trying to see what exactly was left to do until his gaze landed on something.

There was some sort of date on a bright pink sticky-note, and Riki’s eyes widened when he finally comprehends it.

The machine was scheduled to be completed tomorrow.

A street lamp next to Riki dies out—which was a clear sign that something was powering up. From the dark, he hears the metal from the same place as last night moving again, and he knows that Spark has left. His presence sends anyone down the street and immediately running, leaving the area for only them two.

Riki finally sees the completed metal build. Half of his body is wrapped in or replaced with metal parts as he sets down the metal portal, beginning to push it in the direction of the power plant.

A truck or car would make things much easier, but whatever.

Riki wants to cry from fear and run away. He wants to leave and pretend he never saw anything from last night.

He’s going to die fighting Spark and he will quite literally a) never finish highschool and get that stupid diploma, b) finish explaining how Gatsby is not a good person and is naturally selfish, and c) he’s never going to tell you how he’s had a small crush on you ever since he saw your cute campaign video as to why you should vote y/n l/n for student body treasurer last spring.

“You sure that thing works?” Riki asks, jumping into action as he sends webs to immobilize the machine.

“You’re annoying, you know that?” Spark sends a projectile in the superhero’s direction, hitting the wall behind him instead as Riki jumps out of the way.

With another duck mid-air and the roof of a flying car dangerously close to his nose, Riki thanks the dance practice he does for his flexibility as he shoots another web and swings away.

Spark is uncontrollable by now, sucking the light from street lamps and fizzing wires in his wake. He has no idea how he’s supposed to get in contact with the villain like before. The body of his suit fizzes with bright electricity that sizzles and pops. It illuminates Spark’s figure, making him easy to spot, but not so easy to defeat. It’s an overload of power, causing the voltage to escape between the joints and gaps of the metal pieces in his suit. And Riki can feel it; the air is heightened and so are the stakes of this fight—and with how the man that stands in front of him looks upgraded and menacing, he knows only one person can make it out of this fight alive.

“You injected the city’s ‘Gas and Electric’ into your system or what?” Riki calls out, making light of the situation. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s scared out of his wits seeing the six foot figure with blue and white shooting from every crack, looking like a nightmare to touch.

Riki avoids a few more angrily thrown objects, using the momentum of his jump from the side of the building to zip from the top of a yellow fire hydrant to go from one side of the street to the other. “You’re slow!” He taunts, tucking in his legs to avoid a shot of electricity directed at him.

The screech of metal from the nearby hydrant can be heard as the top flings off, making Riki lose his anchor/ Before he can process it, instead of smoothly landing on the building, he crashes into it faster than expected, groaning when his back makes contact with the glass and he tumbles into the living room of someone’s apartment.

“Fuck,” he curses, fighting his aching limbs to get up once more.

And the solution hits him. Literally.

When he steps out and quickly attaches a web to the top of the building, he’s met on the way up with a splash of water from the hydrant to his face, and Riki splutters as he wipes his mask, regaining focus as he lands on the concrete and hides behind the ledge.

Water. If he can get it in contact with Spark and pour enough water on the right spot, the excess of electricity blazing from his mechanical body should work against him.

“Too scared? You should know better than to run away.” The superhero rolls his eyes, crawling away silently to avoid being seen by Spark. Riki does his best to look around for something, and finds a black flower pot in the corner, using a web to grab it before he scales the side of the building and runs away while Spark is distracted as the villain also climbs the wall to face him there. But when Spark climbs the ledge and scans the premise, Riki is nowhere to be seen.

Instead, Riki swings across the street and fills the pot with water, heaving the extra weight as he shouts out from the sudden pain in his side. He stumbles on the pavement, crying out from the injury as the pot falls with his whole plan.

Maybe this is where Spider-Man dies.

He sucks in a deep breath before rolling from his back onto his knees, ignoring the wound to pick up the flower pot. The hydrant still shoots out water, and the superhero rushes towards it, causing Spark to follow. He narrowly avoids another shot from behind him, reaching the yellow hydrant before dropping the pot on the ground. Spark is th

While Spark has always been intelligent, Riki could tell that the man didn’t fear the water, believing he’d be invincible to the elements now that his suit was perfected. There was something off, Riki could tell, and he would make sure to use it to his advantage. Spark was uncontrolled, and his powers drastically decreased the more he used them. There’s no way his body isn’t in overdrive with how recklessly he’s been letting himself get hurt.

Riki uses a web to get himself on higher ground instead of fighting, waiting for the supervillain to follow. If he could get Spark off the edge and fall into the growing puddle of water, it should slow him down.

Spark scoffs. “Run away, then. Like you always have.” Riki hears the wall crumbling under the villain as he climbs within seconds, immediately preparing to fight when he makes it onto the rooftop. But Spider-Man was also prepared, jumping from his crouched hiding position and attempting to catch Spark off guard.

All he can focus on now is pushing him off. There’s no way it’d be easy, considering he had to focus on his touching any of the electricity off of his suit. Riki delivers a kick to Spark in the ribcage near his heart, where he’s fused metal into flesh. The villain coughs before taking a step back, his metal arm reaching for Riki’s outstretched leg. He grabs it, twisting with anger before the boy meets the ground in a violent throw. Not only is the slam greater because of the enhanced strength, but the power seeps into Riki’s skin, leaving it hot from the energy radiating off of his palm.

The boy groans, flipping to his side to avoid a fatal hit to the chest. He reaches for Spark’s normal arm, swinging the villain’s body away with as force as he could to create distance between them.

Riki has been in enough fights to simply know when to run, even if he doesn’t know what’s coming. He could feel the tingle of the charge as it powered up, and with its energy so unrestrained and its user so unstable, the large attempt to hit Riki sends the villain stumbling back from the force. The more Spark uses his powers, the more likely he’s going to end up dead.

“Your skin can handle that anymore!” he shouts, getting ready to swing himself closer as a plan manifests itself in his head. “You’ll die like this!”

Spark seems to know that too as he wipes his mouth and recovers from Riki’s attacks.

“You think I care?” He shouts, desperately pressing his wounds to stop the bleeding. “You think I have anything else for myself?” The vulnerability of his character shines through as he clutches his bleeding wound without regenerative powers to help. “You think I didn’t know that when I did it to myself--what they did to me?”

Riki doesn’t respond, grimacing as he continues hand-to-hand combat. Although he takes a solid punch to his jaw that’s forming a deep purple bruise, he manages to trip Spark onto the ground.

The man stumbles back from the head injury, the pounding from earlier not letting him to think straight. Riki doesn’t try to injure him anymore, but he instead blocks an incoming punch and tries to force Spark towards the edge.

The villain barely notices how much space there is left, and the boy lunges with full force. They tackle each other into the ground, and Riki gets off after apprehending him once more.

The city's a mess, and Spider-Man’s eyes want to shut down so badly, but he takes a few steps in Spark’s direction, pushing him off the side of the building as quickly as he can. Riki hears the thud before he peeks over the edge, seeing the water erode all of the engineering from the machinery. He slowly descends from the rooftop.

“You were in the accident, huh?” Riki shouts on top of the plethora of sounds. Pain, buzzing electricity, splashes of water as he lands next to Spark; it all echoes in his ears as he pours the water from the pot on Spark’s body. “Why did you try it? Why did you want to go back so bad?”

“If I could go back,” Spark coughs, trying to get away from the large pool of water, “I could’ve prevented the accident from taking the lives of the people around me. I could’ve saved them.”

Spider-Man understands loss, and he understands the regret that comes with failure. He understands how the man in front of him feels after having everything taken away from him, but his emotions could never justify his actions.

“You know you can’t change things,” Riki responds, “You tried your best, Spark.” It’s the last thing Riki tells the villain before his body slumps and police sirens grow louder and louder. It’s the last thing that he continues to think about, even if the medic quickly assesses the severity of his wounds.

“I’m fine- really,” he pushes away the hands of a concerned woman as she holds a roll of bandages. “There’s something else I need to do.”

Riki knew he had to tell you about this–he couldn’t just let you confide in him about..well, him, without your knowledge. And Riki wasn’t morally perfect, but he knew an explanation would be the only way to fix things.

Your house looks different when jumping over the fence instead of standing in front of it. When he realizes he has no idea what room belongs to you, he racks his brain, suddenly remembering how yours was the only one with a gray balcony over the pool. And so he climbs, slipping from the exhaustion creeping into his body.

You’ll understand after he explains everything, right?

“____, a little help?” And what the fuck is Nishmura Riki doing outside of your door? You go to investigate the muffled sound, inching towards the curtains and pulling them back to expect him there. When you hear a half yelp and a hissing sound that follows right after, without a person anywhere in sight, your heart drops to its stomach.

Do not say it’s true.

“Riki, where the fuck are you?” you ask, traversing out when you don’t see him anywhere across the glass.

“Down here.” You run in the direction of the voice, and your eyes grow comically large and you gasp, staring down at the sight before you.

“Holy shit.”

There Nishimura Riki is, with his mask half burned off his face and his blonde and black hair messy and matted to his forehead with sweat. The suit is ripped in multiple locations with gashes and purple replacing the healthy skin underneath. His face is in more of a grimace, as he holds onto the web with both hands and one foot planted on the stone of your balcony—read; the bottom of your balcony.

“A little help?” And you see his sheepish emotion through the tattered fabric, embarrassed after you had to find him in such a compromising situation. “I’m a little worn out and I think my webs are getting weaker.”

You’re a little frustrated with him for being out so publicly, but more scared and worried for his condition. Your gaze narrows on the mask, tattered and covered with scratches, but clearly visible. It was Spider-Man’s mask. The material gives way to a familiar face, and your mind almost blocks you from putting the pieces together. It’s impossible, almost horrifying to think of the implications of what it means to wear the blue and red suit.

Instead of being the villain, Riki is, in fact, the savior.

The harsh truth is that your classmate, who you spent the last month working on a project with and suspected was a villain, is the same superhero that went out and risked his life every night fighting crime. It’s jarring to see him like this, breathing heavy and straining against the stone of the balcony, and his cough snaps you out of it. “What the fuck do I do?”

Riki tries to put his hand up in surrender and shuts his eyes at your harsh tone. “Okay, okay, I get-“ and he cuts himself off with a yelp as his footing slips.

He holds out his hand, and you immediately bend over the smooth railing to grab it, leaning back on the heels of your feet to help him up the most that you can. You’re filled with confusion when the boy hobbles over the cool surface of the balcony and lets his head rest on the stone, not saying much as he catches his breath. You watch the rise and fall of his chest and how his right arm goes to nurse the left side of his ribcage, wincing and sucking in a pained breath as he assesses the smear of red on his fingers.

Sitting there with your mouth agape, you’re not really sure what to think about first; to check if RIki’s alright, to think about how your city’s greatest superhero is your English project partner, to yell at him for going to your house instead of his house to fix himself up, or to think about how good his side profile looks in the moonlight. Maybe you should’ve just been relieved that the boy you started to like wasn’t a fear-inducing villain.

“Okay, first of all, we need to have a huge talk. But I’m not a medic Riki- I’m going into accounting for fuck’s sake.” He hears the amount of curses flying from your lips as you ramble, and sees how stressed you look watching him sit against your railing.

“I don’t know how to help you. And also,” you lower your voice and scoot closer, looking around at the large property to really make sure no one’s listening. “you’re Spider-Man?”

The information all hitting you at once is worse than when your history teacher told you your essay was horrible. At least then, in her office, you could process everything. But here? You’re about to faint.

“I’m pretty cool, huh?” And of course Nishimura Riki says such a thing, taking deep breaths as he shallowly presses on the blossoming bruises on his skin and wipes the sweat from his brow.

“Pretty fucking stupid is what it is, Riki.” You cross your arms and try to take a look at where he’s been hurt, hoping that at least he has some sort of regeneration ability that helps him heal much quicker—because there’s no way he could deal with all of this on top of school.

“I have my reasons,” he says, his voice quiet.

You pause. “For being Spider-Man?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “For coming here.”

“What could possibly make you want to come over to my house instead of the nearest hospital? What’s that important to you?”

“I really want to ask you to prom.”

You simply stare at him, surprised.

“You came to my house, even though you’re like, a punch away from passing out, to ask me out? And you couldn’t have, I don’t know, asked me anytime during the classes we have together?”

Riki somehow finds it in himself to frown and shrink from your angry piercing gaze. “I can’t because talking to you makes me nervous–so yeah, I’m sorry I’m half conscious on your balcony in my suit instead of at your door with a poster.”

You’re conflicted, your mind still reeling from the recent discovery and your flood of emotions. Ever since you questioned his identity on top of your feelings for him, you had a hard time really knowing if you could like Riki if he turned out to be a villain, so to know that he proved both of your theories wrong leaves you quiet as you think. If possible, the color in the boy’s face drains even more when you go back inside, but the door stays open, and he thinks he hasn’t ruined things after all. You emerge with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol, a bowl of warm water, and a pristine white towel.

“I’m not mad about that, you idiot,” you reprimand him, setting everything down as you examine the cuts on his face. You squeeze the towel and start to dab at his skin, avoiding the cuts as you clean it. “Who does this for you if not me?”

“Jake.”

“Seems like a pretty good friend.” Riki nods in response.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, sitting up to properly address you, even if you weren’t able to meet his gaze.

“For what?”

“For putting this on you–all of it. Not just the whole Spider-Man thing.” He knew he’d have to tell you at some point, or else it’d eat him up inside to know he kept all of it from you.

“Look at you, saving me mid-air and talking to me as if you didn’t know who I was.”

You notice a flash of regret through his wince as you clean up a cut with antiseptic. “I meant it when I told you I knew what it was like to have a lot of pressure.”

“Guess I wasn’t so far off, then. If we never talked, would you have told me?” Riki shakes his head, and the simple motion leaves you somehow disappointed.

“How do you ever tell anyone you’re…y’know, Spider-Man?” Even if it’s a hypothetical, you shrug, not being able to answer.

“How’d Jake find out?”

Riki chuckles and hisses at the same time before trying to remember. “I think I just kicked his window in after a nasty poison got hold of me. He was a little too excited to have Spider-Man on his bedroom floor, and less excited to know it was me. I’m not really supposed to tell anyone, though.”

“Then why’d you tell me? You could’ve just gone back to your friends.”

“I felt guilty–I know, I know, it sounds stupid. I’d definitely get my identity revealed at this rate.” You shake your head.

“Not stupid. Keep going.”

“I didn’t care that you suspected me, or if anyone else did, because I knew it was never true. But I felt so bad knowing you were sharing to me how you felt without even knowing it was me who was listening–like I was holding something from you.”

You admire his honesty, and when you look at his furrowed brows and his lip that he’s been gnawing from worry, you can’t even imagine what he’s had to hide and do for this. In a way, you look up to him more, for trying his best even if he’s gotten all odds stacked against him. Riki’s commendable in your eyes–he always had been, ever since you woke him up in class.

“I like those things about you, Riki. That you’re honest with yourself and the people around you as much as you can be, and you try to help others when you can. I’m glad we got to know each other more this past month.” Talking to him feels different than talking to Spider-Man from a few days ago; it feels raw, like you’re not just confessing something to a brick wall anymore. If none of this ever happened, you doubt you’d get the chance to tell Riki any of this properly.

The boy stays silent, taking deep breaths while processing what you’ve told him. “I’m glad I could help you out.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “I hope you know I don’t like you because you help me out. I like you because you’re attractive, and because you’re genuine,” you blurt.

Riki laughs despite his ribcage hurting everytime he does so. Riki nods and mumbles a ‘thank you,’ also glad to truly get to know you. While his crush was more of an infatuation with your hard work and amiability, the past few weeks really opened his eyes to who you were. You never wanted to disappoint, and even if your recklessness left you in some dire situations, Riki could see how much effort you really put into things.

There wasn’t anything else he needed to tell you–you were smart enough to see how much he cared about you.

You’re so close, your lips glossy with lip balm as you watch him carefully. You hear and see it all; the heavy, labored breathing from his body healing itself rapidly, and the way his hand is full of rough cuts and calluses as his fingers intertwine with yours. But your eyes catch a glimpse of his mask tossed to the side, the blue shining in the corner of your eyes as you’re reminded of who he is right now, and what role you play. You are still ____ ____, but he’s a superhero.

It makes you momentarily forget whose suit you're peeling away, whose skin you're cleaning. It reminds you that he’s just the boy in your English class that you fell for. “What does that make us?”

“Prom-goers,” he answers with a slight nod.

You smile, wiping a cut before placing the towel back into the bowl for the last time and getting up. “We can be prom-goers, yeah.”

You’re not sure if you’re ready for anything, and you’re thankful that he understands that, too. As much as it warmed your heart to see him again and hear his confessions, the blaring truth still hangs over your head. You grab his mask, finally looking at him before handing it back and grabbing your things. His secret identity wasn’t something you could just ignore.

“Go home, Spider-Man,” you turn your back on him, and time slows when you falter before sparing him one more look. “I want you as Riki, not like this.”

MAYBE NISHIMURA RIKI DOESN'T NEED TO DIE–OR ALMOST DIE–ANYMORE.

He went home that night with his scars somewhat cleaned and his bruises miraculous healing on their own, and even if slipping through the window left him clutching his side in pain, Riki silently jumped up to celebrate his multiple victories before slipping out of his suit and finally getting some rest.

Riki’s scared of how he’s affected your relationship. He’s worried you’ll avoid him in the halls, and he’s worried you’d never want to see him again after putting you through all of it. As much as he'd understand how upset you'd be towards him, he hopes he did the right thing by telling you.

But you see him on your way to English, and you call his name. His eyes search for yours in the crowds, and you two see each other before you crush him in a hug.

Riki isn’t sure how to feel at first, but eventually wraps his arms around you as relief settles in his stomach.

“Thank you for saving me, Spider-Man,” you whisper, loud enough for only him to hear.

He smiles at you, ruffling your hair as you go to English together. “Anytime, ____.”

NEVERMIND, NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE SEES YOU IN YOUR RED PROM DRESS.

But first, he has to try something out.

He curses to himself when silently zipping from a tree outside your family property to the top of your house, staring past the ledge two and luxurious stories to your well decorated porch light and door. He just prays that Google Maps is right about how secluded the area is, so no one can see him pacing around your rooftop, with flowers elegantly wrapped in his hand (courtesy of your mother’s sleek envelope from a few days ago).

“Fuck it,” he says to himself, shooting a web and dangling himself down. Riki’s upside down figure watches swirled window frames and meticulously designed accents as he descends, and he wonders what kind of shady business your parents could’ve done to afford something so grand.

He faces your door—hanging down instead of rightside up, but he’s still here on time like he promised.

The door opens at 6:00PM like he instructed you to, but what he didn’t tell you what to do was shriek and slam the door. On his nose. With a loud yelp, Riki clutches his nose, rubbing the spot you hit and trying to apply pressure to alleviate the pain.

When the door slowly creaks open again, you face with the image of Nishimura Riki, aka your boyfriend, aka your English partner, aka Spider-Man, curled upside down in the fetal position as he cradles the sore spot on his face and swings slightly from the breeze.

“You scared me, dumbass! How was I supposed to know it was you? It was so hard to see!”

Although muffled, Riki’s able to mumble, “You have a porch light for this reason, _____,” and a jab at his stomach from you follows his sarcastic remark. Finally, his nose feels better, and he straightens out to finally look at you.

Pretty, pretty, pretty, and the boy wonders how you look even more stunning with a glittering red dress and perfectly done make-up. “I like the red,” he says, trying not to freak out over your beauty. “Reminds me of a certain neighborhood superhero.”

“I have some blue spider earrings to match.” With a beautiful smile, you turn to show him the little accent, and it melts his heart. “Are you okay, though?”

“I’m fine. I should’ve probably put more thought into that.”

You snicker, sliding into your heels and closing the door behind you.

“One of us is better at romantic gestures, it seems.” It warrants a scoff, and Riki brings a gloved hand to poke at your forehead teasingly.

“Let me have a do-over, then?” And the way your lips curl up into a bright smile leaves him quiet and in awe.

“What, were you going to kiss me? Very original, Spider-Man.” With the way the fabric shifts over his features, you can tell he’s pouting.

“I thought girls liked this.”

You shrug, pretending you aren’t swept off his feet by the effort he’s put in. Taking a step in his direction, your hands reach up to gently pull the mask over his chin, ears, and then his nose.

Whispering quietly, you ask, “You’ve kissed other girls upside down?”

Riki’s quick to shake his head. “You’re the only girl I’d withstand a head rush for.” And god, you just can’t stop yourself from grinning at his sweet, genuine words.

You lean in, placing a small kiss on his nose as a silent apology. Then, you close your eyes and lean into him once more, feeling his hands carefully holding the side of your head and his lips on yours. Your kiss with Riki is saccharine and slow, making you pull away when the urge to beam at him is too much. Your cheeks definitely hurt by how romantic he’s being, and you can’t resist kissing him once more.

“I’m not gonna lie,” he starts, finally letting himself down, “It feels weird.”

“You ruined the moment.” And he really didn’t, but you enjoy his subtle reactions to your light digs at him.

“Whatever.” Riki laughs. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

You nod, sitting down on the porch and dragging a manicured nail over your lips with the ghost of his affections, thinking about how you literally just kissed Spider-Man.

Riki comes back, dusting off his suit and smoothing out the wrinkles, with a large bouquet of red roses and one blue one snuck in there. Your lips stretch into a grin and you accept the bouquet, keeping a mental note to read the card in there.

“You never cease to amaze me, Riki.” It’s the last thing you mutter to the air before you loop your arms around his neck, urging him to lean down as you kiss him once more—this time rightside up, but still as sickly saccharine as the one before it. Your heart is fuzzy with fondness and your eyes glitter with adoration.

“So, which kiss was better?” he asks when you pull away, a little breathless and dizzy.

You swat his arm and walk past the gates, seeing the sleek limo waiting by the curb. “I don’t know, Spider-Man. Maybe show up in your suit and we’ll try it again.”

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED AND ALWAYS READ!

RIKI FIC DONE!!!! ngl y/n u were right there how did u not know riki was spiderman but whatever idc she's a hard worker not smart LMFOAOAO. my first ever action fic so i hope you enjoy! also i hate the ‘oh he pined after her for 4 years she liked him for 2 months’ bs because I WAS IN IT. and it sucks so i tried to deviate from it :)

꣑ৎ permanent fic taglist (TAGGED IN TEASERS, FICS, HEADCANNONS, DRABBLES, ETC.): @dimplewonie @minleeeknow @heeheesang @mintpjzroll @llvrhee @firstclassjaylee @in-somnias-world @rairaiblog @suneng @mavlogist @sensitively-taken @sumzysworld @simpjay @moons-v @riksaes @txtari @jungwonscatcus @tya0 @sasfransisco @woorcve @shypen @pinkriki @rikisluv @saranghaohoshi @lilifiedeans @wonmyheart @k1ttyluvr @nikisgfff @ramenoil @laurradoesloveu @lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me @ikeulims @missychiefs1404 @qwonyoung23 @yangjungwonnie @onementally-unstabel-kid @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @blooqz @anormieee hi permies hope u enjoy! kith

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darkmatilda · 22 days ago

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𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you thought that after a certain misunderstanding, your relationship had taken on a purely platonic and friendly form but then the investigation sent you to the freezing wilderness of alaska, where every night you find warmth in his bed.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x fem!bau reader, the same reader as in my story "the bolter" but it's not necessary to read it before! there are no major references, but people who have read it might treat this as a continuation (if they want to). in this story, we still have our wonderful queen elle greenaway, gideon and morgan, and many of my attempts (not always successful) at being funny. mostly smut with A LOT of plot, description of the case, oral (f receiving) and some much actions but described in a subtle way. a little bit of angst, but I wouldn't be myself if I didn't add some. again, GLASSES REID!!

𝐚/𝐧: first fic at the beginning of the month, i really wanted to post it today. i think it's time to start posting christmas-themed works? would you be interested? by the way, i hope december will treat you kind <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 11k

“I’m freezing, God, I’m freezing.”

“Me too, look how I’m shaking, I swear, one more hour and my feet will fall off, and then my toes…”

“Guys, for god’s sake!” Morgan finally spoke up, his voice tinged with impatience. The hood of his waterproof, windproof jacket covered almost half of his face, and even so, he was clearly the lightest dressed of all of them. “We’ve landed.” He pulled off a glove to check his watch. “Just under fifteen minutes ago. You still don’t know shit about freezing, so stop complaining like a bunch of old women in a knitting cycle…”

“I’d love to be an old lady in a knitting circle right now,” you sighed, your breath immediately turning to steam. You exchanged a look with Reid, who was freezing just as much as you were, and together, you had been driving Derek crazy with your whining. You all had similar gear, thermal layers, and jackets designed for extreme conditions, but it still wasn’t enough. “Sitting by the fireplace, knitting a sweater. Gossiping with other retirees.”

“Exchanging gingerbread recipes,” Spencer suggested, his tone just as wistful.

“And sharing tips for dealing with worms in our cats’ anuses,” you added.

“I’m done," Derek muttered.

Your work often sent you to various corners of the United States, but it rarely involved Alaska. Well, due to the state’s relatively low population density compared to others, fewer crimes were committed there, especially at the federal level.

However, in recent weeks, strange disappearances had occurred—teenagers and young men. Their bodies were found in remote areas, deep in the forest or in completely uninhabited wilderness, places so isolated that even an experienced survivalist would struggle to find their way out.

The local police, as local police often do in most criminal cases, initially pretended there wasn’t a problem, insisting the victims had died as a result of tragic accidents, simply getting lost during a hike. But when the number of deaths began to rise, and the victims included even high school students—locals who were well aware of the dangers of wandering alone after dark in such perilous areas—the case landed on JJ’s desk.

And so, you found yourselves in the brutally frigid surroundings of Fairbanks, heading toward the inn where you were supposed to drop off your things and immediately dive into the investigation.

"The temperature this week is going to range from 15 to 5 degrees Fahrenheit," Spencer informed you over his shoulder as he opened the car trunk to retrieve the luggage. "Of course, that's during the day. At night, it’ll drop as low as -4 degrees."

Elle shivered as he handed her her bag.

"I was doing just fine without those numbers," she said, nudging you lightly with her shoulder—a touch you barely felt through the thick layers of clothing. "What do you say we make up for this with a New Year’s trip? Mallorca? The Himalayas?"

"I’m dreaming of the Caribbean," Morgan chimed in. "Beaches, sunshine, and cocktails—that’s what I’ll be dreaming of tonight."

"And half-naked sunbathers," you added.

"And half-naked sunbathers," he agreed with a grin.

Elle trudged ahead, sinking into the snow up to her calves. The inn was a sizable wooden building, adorned with balconies and terraces that, given the weather, likely went unused, though they added considerable charm. It was tucked away in a secluded spot, offering privacy and a peaceful atmosphere—ideal for work.

You lingered by the car, waiting for Reid to grab his things, unwilling to leave him behind.

“Do you know much about the northern lights, Rudolph?” you teased, nodding toward his red-tipped nose. “I’ve always dreamed of seeing them.”

“Well, then you’re in luck,” he replied, looking at you with a slight smile. “We’re in one of the best places to see them, during the season with the longest nights. They’ll be visible pretty early, though the most stunning views will probably happen between ten at night and two in the morning. I’ve always wanted to see them in person too.”

"So, what do you think?" you asked, raising your eyebrows. "Midnight, at my door, and we’ll go play aurora hunters?"

You shivered just at the thought. Of course, you were joking—there was no way you'd even stick a single hand out from under the covers at this hour with those freezing nighttime temperatures. You planned to admire the beautiful phenomenon from your room window. Warm, you hoped.

"Alright. Just make sure you bundle up,"

"Sure. Thermal thong and all that."

Your room was on the same floor as Elle's and JJ's, and you were glad to have them just behind the next door. Unpacking took you only a minute, and within that time, you were all together, sitting as a team, going through the case files.

“These boys were so young,” JJ remarked, shaking her head with a hint of dread. “Sixteen, the youngest, twenty-four, the oldest. They were found in such remote locations that if it hadn’t been for the ongoing professional search and the dogs, who knows how long it would have taken before anyone stumbled upon their bodies.”

“Given the heavy snowfall, they might not have been found until the thaw. What do their parents and families say about all of this?” Hotch asked.

“Unanimously, they believe their kids would never have ventured that far on their own. This is where the mystery starts, though, because there were no wounds on their bodies, except for the ones they inflicted on themselves in their attempts to survive in the cold.”

“So, it looks like someone kidnapped them, drove them out to a place you’d never get out of without serious survival skills, and just left them to die?” Derek asked, baffled.

“Seems that way. Yesterday, an eighteen-year-old named David Moore was reported missing. Normally, it probably would have been classified as a delayed return home or maybe a runaway, and the police wouldn’t have even taken the report. But given the current circumstances and the rising panic among the locals, his parents decided not to wait. A wise decision.”

"How many hours has it been since he went missing?" you asked, running your own grim calculations in your head. "Around eight, right? Is it even possible for him to survive the night out there in these conditions?"

"That depends on what he was wearing and the specific location where he was left," Reid explained, thoughtfully cleaning the lenses of his glasses. You realized it had been a while since you’d seen him wearing them—he used to wear them daily, but lately, it was only on occasion. For a moment, you found yourself staring at his face, liking how the dark frames suited it.

"His parents believe he was likely abducted on his way home from tutoring," Elle noted, flipping through the case file. "People around here dress warmly as a habit, but even so, I doubt his everyday clothes would be particularly suited to weather like this. At night. In the middle of the woods."

An uncomfortable silence followed her words, broken only by Hotch clearing his throat.

"Anyway, we need to join the ongoing search efforts. We’ll be more useful out in the field than trying to build a profile with the scraps of information we have. I’m not sure if I need to remind you, but out of habit, I will: be cautious and don’t, under any circumstances, stray from the search group. They know this area."

Before you all moved out to get to work, Reid shot you a fleeting glance. Like a dad, you mouthed silently, and he let out the faintest chuckle. You both enjoyed spotting those unmistakably parental tendencies in your boss, though they were directed at you and the rest of the team.

Hours of searching had, unfortunately, yielded no results—the crushing pressure of time bore down on you all. The knowledge that each passing moment was stripping this boy of his chances for survival felt almost unbearable. If he had somehow managed to survive the first eight hours in the forest, sixteen seemed an increasingly unlikely feat.

And yet, hope lingered. The group, driven by his distraught family, refused to stop, likely continuing to scour the area despite warnings. Meanwhile, you stood in your hotel room, so close to the window that the cold glass brushed against your nose.

Your thoughts were consumed by the case and the fate of the teenager. Just as Reid had said, the sky was illuminated by that breathtaking greenish glow. Watching it felt almost surreal, and you wanted to take in as much of it as your eyes could hold.

If it weren’t for the fact that you had frozen to your very core during the search, you might have stepped outside to see it more clearly.

Just as the thought crossed your mind, there was a knock at your door.

You furrowed your brow, not expecting anyone. When you opened it, you came face to face with none other than Spencer. Well, it was hard to tell it was him at first. He was bundled up so tightly in layers of warm clothes that his body lost its natural shape and resembled more of a puffy ball than a person.

"Hey," he greeted awkwardly, raising his hand hesitantly and scanning your appearance from head to toe. "You're not ready yet. Sorry, I think I came too early. I thought we were meeting at midnight..."

"We were meeting?"

"For the northern lights hunt, you forgot? I checked the Kp index, it's a measure of aurora activity that determines its intensity, and it turns out tonight is really favorable... wait, why are you laughing?"

His furrowed brows and face, barely visible in the dimly lit hallway but clearly confused, only made you laugh harder. Shaking your head in disbelief, you covered your smile with your hand.

"Spencer, I was joking," you said, suddenly feeling guilty that your sarcasm had led him to spend time and effort preparing for a night out. "There’s no way I'm going out in this cold. I’d rather dive headfirst into boiling water, at least that would be warmer."

“Oh,” he let out a short, disappointed sigh. He quickly nodded, as if trying to accept the situation, and forced a more neutral expression. “I—I really thought you were serious. Sorry for... for waking you up, then.”

For a moment, you stood in silence, your hand resting on the doorframe. An odd, unexpected thought sprinted through your mind. It had been such a long time since the two of you had been together like this, late at night, in the same room...

“Well, in that case,” he cleared his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I’m sorry again. Let’s just pretend this didn’t happen, okay? Forget I came here and embarrassed myself. That’s all. Sorry. I should probably go if I want to avoid being completely sleep-deprived tomorrow...”

“Go where?” you interrupted, suddenly standing straighter, alarmed.

“Aurora hunting.”

“By yourself? Spencer, have you lost your mind?”

He opened and closed his mouth, caught off guard by your outburst.

“Well, I don’t know when I’ll ever get another chance like this, being in the Arctic Circle...”

“It’s pitch dark and freezing cold. You don’t know the area—”

“...I’ve had a chance to look around, and I’m not going far. There’s a small hill just behind the inn—”

“...And there’s a freaking serial killer on the loose around here, did you forget?”

“Well, I have a gun.”

“Well, I’m not letting you go,” you cut him off firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. Spencer tilted his head, clearly ready to argue further, but before he could speak, you added, “Give me five minutes.”

“What?”

“Five minutes to get dressed. I’m coming with you.”

At first, you could have sworn a faint smile flickered across his lips. But then, just as quickly, he shook his head vehemently.

“No, really, you don’t have to. Not just because of me. I’ll be fine…”

"Five minutes," you repeated once more, slightly flustered and trying not to dwell on the fact that the moment you stepped outside, you’d likely regret this decision. “Wait here. Or come inside—I don’t want to shut the door in your face.” As you spoke, you opened the door wider, inviting him in.

Without wasting another second, you headed straight for your suitcase. Okay, how many layers does one need for a night outside in Alaska?

“I actually bought a set of thermal underwear specifically for this case,” you said, pulling out the essentials from your bag. Most of what you’d worn during the day would work fine, but you debated adding an extra sweater and another pair of socks. “And, oh my God, I hate it. I’d rather wear lace thongs 24/7 than spend more than eight hours in this bugger.”

You glanced subtly over your shoulder, curious to see his reaction and waiting for his reply. It wasn’t like you wanted to embarrass him, but you absolutely adored how, in response to even your most suggestive remarks, he could always respond with complete seriousness—like he was dissecting some profound issue. Judging by the furrow of his brow, this time would be no different.

“Really? You know, thermal underwear is generally associated with comfort. The fabric is typically elastic, soft, and breathable. High-quality models are even seamless, so they don’t cause any chafing. Maybe you bought a poorly fitted one?”

“Maybe. I don’t know, I have no expertise in this area. It digs in so much, though, and I have to keep myself from adjusting it. Can you imagine me sticking my hand in my pants right in front of the missing boy’s family?”

He hesitated before responding.

“Not really. But I can picture Hotch’s face.”

“And I can picture a termination notice on my desk the next day,” you quipped.

You grabbed all the clothes you had gathered and disappeared into the bathroom to layer them on. It wasn’t a quick job—by the end, you felt like your movements were completely restricted by the weight of it all—but at least you were prepared. When the first merciless blast of Alaskan air brushed against the tiny exposed part of your face, it didn’t immediately make you want to run back inside screaming.

Instead, you sighed in awe.

"I know I’ve invoked God's name a hundred times already, but God, this is beautiful," you said, feeling your own words too inadequate to describe the miracle above your heads. The streaks of light stretching across the sky, an intense green with a certain transparency, a glassy quality, the stars peeking through it all.

Spencer turned to you over his shoulder. He was only a couple of steps ahead, but he kept doing it as if afraid that in a moment of not seeing you, you'd fall into the snow and disappear forever.

“Wait until we get to the spot,” he said, his smile clearly excited. In his dark eyes, the light seemed to reflect and stay there, even when he blinked, as though he had already absorbed it all deep inside. “It’s only ten minutes away, but it makes a difference.”

"I hope you're not one of those people who says, 'Oh, it's just around the corner, we don't need a cab!' and then leads you to walk halfway across the city" you scoffed. You tried to keep your gaze fixed on his back, his lantern swinging in his hand. Alaska, the vast empty terrain, the thick layers of snow, seemed to hide some sort of mystery beneath them, and it filled you with a fair amount of fear. "Will you shield me with your chest if a bear jumps out at us?"

"Actually, yes, I would," he replied. "But not because of heroism, it's more because I have bear spray in my pocket, and by that very fact, it's probably my duty."

"Okay, let’s make a deal: you protect us from a potential bear attack, and I’ll take care of Bigfoot. By the way, that legend never really scared me. A monkey with gigantic feet just sounds too ridiculous to me. Remember that episode of History's Mysteries that we watched at your place?"

You both shared a love for a certain TV show about conspiracy theories and famous mysteries from around the world.

"Of course. You know part of it was filmed right here in Fairbanks? Bigfoot never really fascinated me either, but I liked that at the end of the episode they also mentioned other Alaskan legends. Like The Kushtaka, for example."

"I don't remember that. But I'm not sure I want you to tell me," you confessed, taking a breath, the cold biting into your lungs. Despite the layers of clothing, it was getting colder and colder, but at least you'd finally reached the spot Spencer had chosen. He was right; the vast plain on the small hill was perfect for watching the aurora. You had the feeling that the sky was only an inch above your head, and a childlike urge to reach up and touch it. "Alright, you've got me too intrigued. Go ahead."

You noticed that, unlike you, Spencer wasn't tilting his head back to gaze at the sky. He was looking at you.

"The Kushtaka is a creature from the folklore of the surrounding tribes. It is most often described as a hybrid of a human and an otter..."

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

"Otters, seriously? Is that supposed to chill me to the bone?"

Spencer raised an eyebrow in a somewhat sarcastic manner.

"Okay, let me tell you the story differently," he proposed in a similar tone, swallowing as if to prepare himself for the tension-building drop in his voice. "Just like now, we're heading out to see the northern lights. Just the two of us, surrounded by nothing but darkness. The sky is overcast that day, and there’s hardly any light to see." At that moment, he switched off the flashlight he was holding, and his previously well-lit face faded into obscurity. You crossed your arms over your chest, silently promising yourself you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being scared.

“In this story, do my thermal undies also ride up so uncomfortably?”

“Your underwear isn’t a significant part of this tale. Anyway… crap, where was I?”

“The thought of my underwear distracted you?”

You heard him sigh, almost in exasperation, and a sly smile spread across your face.

“Let me continue. No more comments about underwear.”

“My underwear or in general?”

“SO WE’RE HEADING TO SEE THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. It’s dark, it’s creepy, and you’ve got chills running down your spine. Then suddenly, you realize you’ve lost me.”

“Phew,” you exhaled with theatrical relief. “Finally got rid of that creep who kept obsessing over my underwear.”

"You know what, I’m done. I’m done. I won’t tell you the story about the human-otter hybrid."

“I’m devastated by this fact!” you assured him in the same overly dramatic tone. Taking it a step further, you jumped toward him, desperately grabbing the fabric of his jacket. “Dr. Reid, please, I beg you, tell me about the human-otter hybrid. I need this. I’ll sell my soul and body, just please…”

Spencer threw his head back, laughing, and as you tried to calm yourself down, you leaned against him. Taken by surprise, he lost his balance, sending both of you toppling into the snow.

“Damn, we’re going to be wet!” he groaned, trying to get up from the deep snowdrift you both had fallen into. It wasn’t the easiest task with all the layers of clothing and a girl who was dying of laughter on top of him.

“I think that’s enough of our aurora watching,” you said once you both finally managed to get back on your feet. Despite the ski pants and very, very warm clothes, you were starting to feel frozen. “And enough of your legends. It’s late, and we should head back.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” he complained, sounding like a little puppy that had been scolded for peeing on the carpet.

“You can tell me on the way,” you replied. “Come on.”

You sent one last glance toward the sky before moving forward, your mind focused entirely on the vision of a hot, soothing bath and a blanket with an extra layer for warmth. For the rest of the walk, Spencer didn’t try to use his low voice or mysterious narrative tone. He finished the story in his usual manner, sounding more like a fascinated lecturer. You couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed—he had sounded really sexy earlier, you had to admit.

When you both got back to the guesthouse, you glanced at the stairs leading up to your room and shook your head in refusal.

“If I don’t get under at least five blankets right this second, I’m going to die, so sorry my dear, but I’m coming to you and I won’t leave until I’m warm, or I’ll never leave at all,” you said quickly and firmly.

Spencer raised an eyebrow but replied just as energetically.

“I don’t think I have five blankets in my room.”

“Three will be fine.”

And that's exactly how it went. First, you took off your jackets, and then, in your typical everyday clothes, you quickly jumped into bed, covered with the duvet up to your neck, waiting for the pleasant warmth to spread across your bodies.

“Was seeing the aurora worth all that suffering?' you asked, turning onto your side in bed so you could face him.

'Well, it wouldn't have been suffering if someone hadn't shoved both of us into the snow...'

He said this while lying on his back, but shortly after these words, he followed your lead and also turned onto his side. Your breath became shallower. It had been almost a year since you last had him this close, almost a year since you slept together, and then decided to let the situation fade into oblivion.

Honestly, you almost succeeded. After all, that incident was like every other encounter you had with guys. Spontaneous, one-time, followed by bolting. But you didn’t see those other guys afterward. Every day at work, forced to watch him wipe his glasses, his damn glasses, with the same fingers he…

“Are you thinking about something specific?” he suddenly asked, his voice eerily similar to the one he used to tell you the story on the hill, a voice you found so sexy.

That was the kind of man Spencer Reid was. Always wanting to know what was going on inside your head.

You sighed, probably too loudly.

"You don't want to know what I'm thinking right now,"

You felt a little pathetic, realizing that your whole excuse about not being able to go to your room was just a pretext to end up in his bed. Once again. This whole trip to Alaska must have really messed with your head. Or maybe it cleared the fog in your mind and left a single thought, naked and defenseless. You wanted him.

"I know how pathetic that sounds, but I always want to know what you're thinking," he replied after a moment, swallowing audibly. You heard it clearly, you were so close. So close...

You had to make a quick decision: whether to continue and face the consequences the next day, or, perhaps worse, to be rejected? It was possible that he had learned from your last time together, and didn’t want to get involved with you that way.

"I can show you what I'm thinking," you finally proposed, not blinking for a long moment, just carefully studying the features of his face, any signs of uncertainty or tension.

Because there was that one small seed of probability that he wanted you too.

His lips parted, but were immediately covered by your kiss.

Slow and curious. How did he taste after all this time?

Maybe it was a thought whispered by the moment, but you had the feeling that even better.

You didn’t play the role of a taster for too long. Soon, still not pulling his lips away from yours, you lifted yourself into a sitting position, propping yourself up with your elbow on the bed, pressing closer to him with every passing moment, more intensely and hungrily.

Something seemed to haunt you, preventing you from moving any further. Something in his posture—lying on his back, surrendered to your control, yet somehow absent.

You pulled away from his lips, your gazes meeting. There was a certain weakness and sadness in his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" you managed to ask, your voice strangely trembling.

Spencer suddenly sat up, straightening himself, though there was still a slight bend in his shoulders. His movement forced you to pull away from his chest.

"I can't do this," he confessed quietly, taking a deep breath. "I can't sleep with you." In a way, it hurt more than if he had simply refused to let you kiss him. Your forehead furrowed in disappointment and... shock?

"Why?" you asked directly, foregoing any excuses about not aiming for that. Because you had been.

He let out a laugh, filled with pity.

"Because after this, I won’t be able to stop thinking about you. And you, after tonight, won’t want me anymore."

You were breathing heavily, completely unsure of what to say. His words were painfully eye-opening, first and foremost. And secondly... true. Because did you plan, like a normal person, to wake up next to him, greet him, date him? That wasn’t how you operated. In your plans, there was always just one option—escape. Exactly like that time.

You slowly began to slide off the bed, his hand moved to reach for yours, and you hoped he would take it, but at the last moment, he hesitated. He hesitated.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," you reassured him, yet you didn’t look at him the whole time. You sounded stiff, almost reproachful, even though you were the one who should be reproached. You were the problem.

You looked around the floor, used to picking up your clothes from it, but this time there was nothing. Except for the jacket hung up and the ski pants you’d pulled on over your regular ones to avoid freezing in the cold night. Leaving without a word seemed excessive.

Your back rested against the door as you turned to look at him. Your quick-thinking mind raced, searching for something to say to at least salvage some dignity in this situation…

“Let’s pretend this didn’t happen,” you finally suggested.

Spencer was still sitting on the edge of the bed, as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to get up or stay there. Eventually, it seemed like he stayed, though you weren’t sure, having already turned toward the door, your hand pressing on the doorknob.

“T-think that’s the best solution,” he admitted, just as one of your feet stepped into the hallway.

Then, you heard someone whistling.

You immediately stepped back into his room, keeping your face turned toward the door.

“Damn, it’s Morgan,” you said, recognizing the person in the hallway by the sound alone. “We better not let him see me leave, or he’ll never leave us alone…”

You expected that when you turned around, you’d find him still sitting on the bed. After all, you hadn’t heard him get up, hadn’t heard him approach. You certainly didn’t expect that, when you turned, his lips would almost immediately attack yours.

It was so unexpected, so sudden, that the back of your head slammed against the door.

“Fuck, sorry…”

But you didn’t think for a second about the pain, nor did you focus on why Spencer had suddenly changed his mind. Your attention was solely on the two of you, two desperate pairs of lips pressing together and pulling apart, never staying away for long.

He pulled you toward him, wrapping his arms around your waist. Unlike the last time, it was your back that hit the mattress first. The cool surface, the heated bodies, and the weight of the layers of clothing between you both.

"You've changed," you noticed.

A different dynamic. The pace was set by him—just moments ago, you were standing by the door, and now, half of your clothes were gone, while the soft skin of your neck was buried under a cascade of messy, impatient kisses.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his face hovering above yours, one hand resting on the bed next to it.

"I haven't gotten enough to say for sure," you replied, teasingly. "But I get the feeling you're more confident now. A lot of practice since last time?"

He shrugged.

"I don't think it's about practice," he said, his hand sliding down your side until it stopped at the waistband of your pants, lingering there but not moving any lower. You reached for his hand, brushing against it before trailing your fingers along its length up to his forearm, feeling one of his veins beneath your fingertips. "I guess... I was just scared you'd leave, and I had to stop you somehow. That’s why I rushed," he admitted.

His gaze lingered mostly on your face, but it wandered across your body, his frustration clear as he eyed the layers of clothing still in his way. Something about his desperation and impatience stirred something playful in you, and you couldn’t resist teasing him.

Propping yourself up on one elbow, you tilted your chin to look at him.

“If I tried to leave right now, how would you stop me?”

The corner of his mouth twitched at your question, but he decided to play along, nodding thoughtfully.

“I think I’ve got a few ideas.”

“Care to show me?” you asked, your voice dripping with challenge.

For a moment, he didn’t move at all, just kept staring at you, until he allowed himself that first, utterly shameless drop of his gaze and a soft sigh. His lips began their journey, starting at their usual, safe spot on your neck, trailing toward your shoulder, and crossing over your collarbone with deliberate intent. You were still half-sitting, struggling to steady your breathing so your chest wouldn’t rise and fall too much or too quickly, trying not to disrupt him. The first hint of uncertainty appeared between your breasts when his kisses momentarily softened, carefully exploring unfamiliar territory and testing your sensitivity.

You struggled more and more to keep yourself from collapsing fully onto the mattress. But when his cool tongue met your skin, pressing against it so firmly that his forehead brushed against your stomach, relentlessly moving lower, you couldn’t hold out any longer.

He was between your knees, bent in anticipation. He reached them, sliding his hands down your thighs and coaxing them to relax. He fumbled a bit while unbuttoning your pants, and had trouble sliding them down while you were lying there. You lifted your hips to help, even tried to do it yourself, but he stopped your hands, placing them above your head.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he said softly, finally freeing your legs from both pant legs. His hands wrapped around your ankles, his thumb tracing gentle circles around one of them, which somehow completely seized your attention, and you focused solely on that subtle motion. For a moment, you closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, you noticed that his chin was just above your panty line. "Actually, it will be much more pleasant for you if you just focus on feeling and nothing else. I was supposed to show you my ideas, remember?"

“As someone who apologized for being in too much of a hurry, you sure have an unexpectedly large amount of patience now,” you remarked with reproach, lifting your head again. Maybe keeping it down allowed for more comfort and relief for your neck, but on the other hand, the sight of his face immersed between your thighs was simply priceless.

If the sight itself was priceless, how do you describe that feeling?

With every move of his tongue, your hips swayed, adjusted to the rhythm. Often tense, trying to find some outlet, especially when sighs escaped his lips and his cool breath penetrated through you.

"Think I'm gonna cume embarrassingly quickly," you confessed, unsure whether he even understood anything from your sentence, which was at least interwoven with two moans. Three.

When it happened, you uncontrollably squeezed his head with your knees, a similar groan also came from his mouth.

Spender didn’t stay in that position for long. When you opened your tightly shut eyelids, his face was right above yours, stretched in such satisfaction, as if he was the one receiving pleasure.

"Was it too quick for you?" he asked, still absorbing you with the same gaze, which seemed to pulse with desire. "If you want, we can try again, you’ll surely improve..."

"My God, when did you become so cocky?"

He chuckled, but instead of answering, he once again pressed himself against your body and skin, closing his eyes in devotion and lingering on each spot for as long as it took, as if he could never be satisfied, no matter how much he took in.

Your hands, instead of tormenting the innocent fabric of the blanket, moved to his back, tightly embracing his neck and basically everything they could latch onto. All of his earlier composure seemed to evaporate; you didn’t even have to ask twice to make him slide in. It actually sounded more like an order than a request, a bit desperate, it's true, but still an order.

"How is it even possible that it feels even better than the last time?” His words, his lips, ticked your neck as he moaned out this question. "Just... I feel like I won’t have enough of you tonight."

"The night is long," you said, almost into the air, not really paying attention to the meaning behind it. "Tomorrow night too."

Spencer stopped, completely. His eyes desperately searched for yours, and when he finally found them, they widened in disbelief.

"Tomorrow night too?" he repeated. "But I thought... I thought you didn't want anything more than a one-night fling…”

"It's already our second," you reminded him. "And I'll be completely honest with you, I don’t want to walk around all day tomorrow sexually frustrated just at the sight of you. Let's make a deal, okay?"

"A deal?"

"Yeah. I'll tell you about it in a moment, but right now...Oh God, I think I’m gonna…”

You both got dressed right after, but not because either of you intended to leave. The temperature inside simply didn’t allow for sleeping naked, no matter how warm you were after sex.

"So?" he asked, handing you the piece of paper you had sent him to the bathroom for. Then he sat on the bed, facing you. "What did you mean by this deal?"

"Well, after thinking about it, I'm not sure if it's a good idea after all..."

"I want to know, even if just out of curiosity."

"You want to know everything, Spence. But fine. I thought maybe... while we're in Alaska, we could just, you know, allow ourselves to do whatever we want. In more direct terms, fuck each other as much as we want.”

It sounded a bit...crazy? Spencer kept his gaze suspended in the air for a moment before turning it back to you, questioning.

"But only as long as we're in Alaska?"

"Exactly. Since there's only one floor between us, why not take advantage of it?" you tried to joke, lightening the mood.

It didn’t seem to have much effect on him.

"But what happens next? When we get back?"

"Do we really have to think about that?" you wondered, moving closer to him, to the body that just moments ago made you feel so good. "We'll get used to being apart, just like before."

"Okay," he sucked in a breath, clearly torn over the proposal. "I mean, no, I didn’t mean okay... because it doesn’t seem like a great idea, but on the other hand... on the other hand, I really, really want you, even if it only means for this short time."

You smiled, though deep down, somewhere very deep, there was something somber in that gesture.

Ignoring that, you kissed him to seal the deal. And not just that.

"That was for good night and goodbye."

"Goodbye? You're leaving?" A clear look of disappointment crossed his face, but he quickly shook his head, trying to get rid of it. "Good night, then."

"It's not that I don't want to stay. It's just that it would be better to be well-rested for work, and I don't think we'd sleep properly if I decided to spend the night here. “

You saw him open his mouth, ready to protest, but you had already gotten up from the bed and started gathering your remaining things.

"Wait," he called as you were about to leave. "You said... you said something that's been bothering me, you know? I can even quote it, so listen up. You said that you don't want to walk around all day tomorrow sexually frustrated just at the sight of me."

You couldn't help but let out a burst of laughter.

"And that bothers you?"

"I don’t understand what you meant by that. What in my behavior makes you feel that way?"

"A lot of things."

"Like what?"

"I'll tell you someday. Maybe it's better if you're not aware of it."

"Hey, now I won’t be able to sleep!"

"Anyway, good night, sweet boy."

Almost the first thing in the morning, you found yourselves at the local police station, full of disappointment and anxiety. You had to inform the parents of the missing boy found in the forest that he had been located. But unfortunately, it was not good news.

The first hours of the day passed in constant analysis and discussion, until finally, around noon, you gathered in front of the town's police officers, ready to deliver the profile. You didn’t have much time for any reflection on the previous night, or even for a conversation with Spencer. A sober one this time, when you weren’t intoxicated by desire and each other.

You stood in the corner of the room, listening to Hotch and Gideon.

"The UNSUB is a white male, likely with military experience or, at the very least, extensive survival skills, estimated to be around 50-60 years old. He abducts teenagers, boys, and young men who look younger than their actual age, which suggests he doesn’t know his victims very well."

"If he observes them, it’s for a short period. He doesn’t have time to get to know them but understands their routine and daily schedule well enough to know when to strike."

"He doesn’t drug his victims, which means he is physically capable of abducting them without assistance. This ties into the type of victims he selects. All these boys were more the intellectual type than athletes. When abducted, they were coming from school, tutoring sessions, or the library. David Moore, for instance, was tall but lanky. His family described him as gentle, with a big heart and a passion for learning."

"The UNSUB abandons them in remote forest locations. Forcing them to fight for survival gives him a sense of control and serves as a way to prove his belief that modern society and boys today are incapable of handling adversity. He openly despises them, viewing them as weak and effeminate. His mindset reflects a toxic approach to gender roles and what he considers the traditional male archetype."

“White men aged 50-60 with survival skills make up about half the population here,” a policeman noted. “Take me, for example…”

Hotch began providing more detailed information, while Gideon stepped out of the center of the room, and the atmosphere became more relaxed.

You approached Reid, who was sitting in a chair, and ruffled his hair with your hand.

“Watch your back, genius-boy,” you warned, standing behind him. From his seat, he tilted his head all the way back to look up at you. A smile instantly appeared on his face.

“You might just be next. And we wouldn’t want that.”

“So, you think I’m effeminate?”

"I know very well that you're not. But you do have that intellectual spark in your eyes. And, you know, those glasses don’t help."

Ever since you’d been in Alaska, he’d worn them less often because, as he’d told you while chatting in bed, they kept fogging up. But now, they were perched on his nose, making him look... delectable. Simply delectable.

The rest of your team approached, Elle's gaze lingering on your hand resting on the back of Reid's chair. As usual, she had to notice everything.

"I need to send you all to a few places to check out some individuals the police have identified as matching the profile," Hotch announced. "Y/N and Elle, I’d like you to speak again with the bus driver who drove David Moore just before he was abducted. Once he understands the profile, he might be able to recall more details."

You lingered in the room, wanting to exchange a word with Spencer. In complete privacy... He was slowly wiping his glasses, as if hoping for the same. Watching the movements of his hands, you shook your head.

"This is it—what you asked me about yesterday. What makes me sexually frustrated. Our agreement still stands, right?" you asked, running your hand along his shoulder, just to touch him. Even though the many layers of clothing made it almost impossible to really feel him.

He looked at the glasses he was cleaning, then at you, disbelief written all over his face.

"That's what you meant? Cleaning glasses?"

"Don't judge me. It's about the motion. Or maybe the glasses themselves, I don't know. Maybe I’m a fetishist. Anyway, are you going to answer my question?"

Still seated in the chair, he had to tilt his head back to look at you, which reminded you—just a little, okay, a lot—of another situation where he was down below.

"What about you?" he countered. "You haven’t changed your mind?"

"Absolutely not."

"In that case, yes. It still stands."

“Oh, I don’t know what I’d do if you’d answered differently. See you tonight, then,” you promised, glancing around the room to make sure none of your team members were still there. Just a few local officers... who weren’t paying much attention to you. Even if they were, it wasn’t their business.

You leaned in quickly to kiss him. He closed his eyes, as if hoping for more.

“Not now, and not here. I need to go find Elle. Hotch gave us an assignment. Have a good one.”

You walked away, feeling his gaze on your back.

You found your friend in the car, one of those suited for tough terrain, with high tires. She was sitting behind the wheel, tapping her nails on it.

"So, what was the address of that driver?" you asked, fastening your seatbelt.

"Forgive my bluntness, darling, but I’ll die if I don’t know. What was that all about?"

"What do you mean, ‘What was that all about’?"

"Oh, come on, you know exactly what I mean. Messing with his hair, the chair, the looks. Are you two sleeping together again?"

You technically had no reason to hide anything from her, after all, you trusted her completely and had never hesitated to talk about your sex life. But this time... you kind of liked the idea of keeping whatever happened between you and Spencer just between the two of you.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. We're just acting like we usually do," you said.

"Yeah?" She raised an eyebrow, slowly pulling away from the police station, her gaze shifting between the road and you. "Then what were those sounds last night from his room?"

"Oh shit, did we make noise?"

She smiled triumphantly.

"I don't know, you tell me. I'm just teasing you. I'm on a completely different floor. But I'll take that as an admission of guilt."

"Manipulative bitch!"

"I'll take that as a compliment. So?"

You rolled your eyes with a heavy sigh, but eventually, you confirmed her suspicion with a nod.

"I thought you didn't sleep with the same guy twice."

"The air in Alaska really does something strange to me."

"Sure. The air," she scoffed, and you furrowed your brows in slight confusion, looking at her, waiting for her to elaborate. The car glided along one of those completely empty, snow-covered roads where there was nothing to focus on. "You know, I wonder why you just don't admit that you like him?"

"I don't hide the fact that I like him."

"Then why not give it a try?"

"Try what, Elle?"

She glanced at you sideways, her lips tightening at your obviously irritated tone. She didn't mean to upset you, of course, but that's how you felt. She sighed, as if thinking about how to approach the subject.

"You've learned to live with it," she finally began, slowly and cautiously weighing her words. "With that fear. Of intimacy and commitment."

"It's just a preference."

"No, it's not a preference. It's fear. You're afraid that if you get emotionally close to someone, you'll be abandoned, and you don't want to risk another painful loss. You want to have full control over the relationship and disappear when you feel like it's fading. Usually in the morning. It's a common mechanism, and it's not just about you. And no mechanism can be broken without making an attempt."

"Elle, stop. You're profiling me, and you know how much I hate that."

And actually, you hated being confronted with the truth about yourself and being internally forced to draw conclusions about yourself.

It was easy, living without reflecting on oneself. Especially when those reflections were painful. You could hurt yourself, unsuccessfully trying to confront them, or flow along with their current, completely subordinated to them and deaf to the words of others, who said you were only hurting yourself in the bigger picture.

Elle dropped the subject, as you had arrived at the house of the man you were supposed to interview. She didn’t bring it up again afterward. The hours at work passed, and you only waited for that specific moment when you'd cross the threshold of that room again.

The previous night danced vividly in your mind, never slowing down or taking a break for a moment. As soon as he opened the door, you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing his face, and unbuckling his belt.

Spencer took a sharp breath, shocked and amused, as soon as you touched him.

"It would be incredibly awkward if someone were at my place right now," he chuckled into your mouth, half of his sentence drowned out by your kiss.

You pulled your face away just slightly, raising your eyebrows. It was only then that you noticed he was wearing glasses. Oh, he was so completely unaware of what you were about to do to him...

"How many people do you bring to yourself every night?" you asked.

"In that regard, only you. Besides, this is only the second time, so I wouldn’t call it every night... but I could always be here with someone, talking..."

"Keeping each other warm," you added.

Your hands slid under the fabric of his clothes, brushing the lower part of his stomach.

He noticeably tensed under your fingers, swallowing slowly, impatient and pleading.

"Engaging in a worldview discussion and exchanging conclusions," he finished, a smile playing on his lips.

"Uh-huh. Exactly like we are now. Honestly, does that turn you on? Do you want me to share my political views while you’re eating me out?”

"This is probably the only scenario in which you could make me not feel pleasure because of it."

His hands hesitated, roaming uncertainly across your body, unsure of where to start. They brushed over so many spots, moving from one to the next, chaotic and desperate.

You didn’t know where to focus – on the lips in the hollow of your neck, on the hand on your hips, or the other, slipping lower and lower?

Or perhaps on that sound, right by your ear, sweet, pleading whimper?

Moan left your body just for that reason and you already knew how you wanted the rest of the night to unfold.

You gently pushed him back, and with quickened breath, you dropped to one knee, then the other.

"After yesterday, I couldn't stop thinking about you," you confessed, making sure your lips were close enough to his body as you spoke. You heard him inhale sharply, whispering something under his breath. "I couldn't focus on work at all. So today, I want to take care of you, completely."

You thought he would be satisfied with the offer; well, it was hard to deny that he was. Still, for some reason, he started shaking his head.

"N-no, that's not... I want to do it. Take care of you, I mean."

You couldn’t stop smiling, but at the same time, you weren’t about to back down, which should probably be enough to describe the dynamics of the following hours.

At times, it was brutally slow, while at other moments, it was hurried and impressive. Sometimes, you interrupted each other constantly, unable to stop talking, and at other times, the only sound filling the room was your two breaths, the only constant, restless, and laced with moans and cries.

"You’re not leaving me tonight, right?" he asked, drawing closer to your body and holding you almost pleadingly. You laughed against his skin, shaking your head in denial.

"At some point, I will have to. For about fifteen minutes, before everyone wakes up."

"You’ll say you just came by for something. To ask a question or something," he tried to convince you.

"Oh, at this early hour, looking like I’ve just done a two-hour workout? Derek would eat us alive. His eyebrow would never drop again. If I ever end up in hell, it will be with him there, looking at me like that." You tried to mimic his expression, tensing your jaw as you did.

"Stop, I feel harassed."

"You see? And if he found out about us, this is how the next... God, I can’t even predict when he’d get tired of it. Maybe in a year. Do you want to suffer for another whole year just to be with me for an extra fifteen minutes?"

"I’d be able to survive that," he declared quietly, placing his hand under your head and playing with your hair with one of his fingers. "But if you don’t want it, I’m not going to waste time and try to convince you."

"Sure," you scoffed playfully. "So many things could be done in that time."

"Like what?" he asked, clearly intrigued. "Try to sleep. What were you hoping for?"

"Nothing, nothing. But you used a plural in that sentence and then only gave one thing. So, I’m waiting for the rest."

"That’s an overinterpretation."

"More like a simple analysis of sentence structure."

"Maybe sometimes it's better to analyze a little less. Spencer."

"I don’t think I’m capable of that," he admitted, his tone a little more serious. You furrowed your brow, looking at his pale face in the weak light, showing signs of the night’s exhaustion. "That’s just how my brain works. It doesn’t give me much time to rest."

You often wondered what the world looked like from his perspective. How, in many ways, his genius was both a revelation and a curse. But you’d never heard him complain about it—until now. In fact, it wasn’t even a complaint, just a statement of fact, somewhat melancholy.

You kissed the top of his head, hoping it would have a soothing effect.

And indeed, it worked. He moved even closer to you, rested his head, and after a moment, almost at the same time, your eyelids fell.

The morning passed slowly and longingly, even though you were still so close to each other. However, there was the awareness that with the arrival of the day, you would have to wait many, many hours before you saw each other again. In a similar way, you meant. After all, at work, you constantly spent time together, which only made everything more difficult. It would have been much easier to push him out of your head and focus, if it weren’t for that.

Meanwhile, Spencer, perhaps trying to gently play on your nerves, cleaned his glasses much more often than necessary. But there was also the possibility that he was doing it the same amount as usual, and you were just imagining it.

"Are you doing that again?" Morgan nodded in his direction as a greeting when you were sitting in the guesthouse room that served as your team's meeting place. There was a long table in there, similar to the one in your office, but much narrower. Sitting across from Reid, you could easily touch his hand. If you wanted to. "Is this some new nervous tic of yours? Polishing them?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Spencer furrowed his brow in mock surprise, stopping the corner of his mouth from twitching. You kicked him under the table, and he couldn’t suppress a gasp.

To hide your amusement, you covered your face with your hand, but Morgan immediately picked up on it.

"Is this some new inside joke of yours?"

"He’s literally just polishing his glasses, leave him alone," you said.

Morgan’s eyebrows raised in the same way you had imitated him the night before. Neither of you could hold it in and burst into laughter.

"What’s going on?" JJ asked, walking into the room.

"Something very strange is going on," Derek announced mysteriously, staring at you both intently. His hands were resting on his hips, and his head tilted in thought. "Something very strange..."

Then Hotch arrived, even more serious than usual, which immediately dispelled the good mood. The rest of the team also arrived—Elle and Gideon—and everyone took their seats at the table.

"In the past few hours, there hasn’t been any concerning missing person reports," Hotch informed you. "On one hand, that’s good; on the other, it means the unsub will strike again soon. And we can’t let that happen."

"And you even have a plan," Gideon stated, with some sort of understanding in his eyes.

Hotch looked at you all with hesitation before nodding in confirmation.

"That's right, I have. I've concluded that we have no choice but to set a trap."

At those words, his gaze rested on Spencer, which was enough for you to figure it all out even before the main subject did.

"With all due respect, Hotch, have you lost your mind?!"

And how exactly do you envision this?" Elle asked, not as shaken as you but clearly concerned. "Sure, he fits the profile of his victims, but how is he supposed to set himself up? Walk around town and hope to get kidnapped?"

"At least two of the victims were abducted on the same stretch of road, after getting off the bus at the same isolated bus stop while walking home alone. It’s an exceptionally safe location for him," your boss explained.

"Honestly, I’m not convinced," Derek interjected, staring ahead with a furrowed brow. "I just don’t think he’d use the exact same spot again. Word has probably spread around the area that the FBI is on the case. He might be more cautious and change his methods."

"But he might just as well try again," JJ said quietly. You looked at her with clear surprise, as you had expected that, with her characteristic care for the team, she would be against the idea. "Right now, it’s the only thing we can do to try to prevent another abduction."

You drew a breath, understanding her arguments but remaining entirely opposed. Your gaze finally fell on Spencer, for the first time since the idea had even been brought up. He was sitting very upright, his brow furrowed, and he slowly began nodding.

"JJ’s right, it’s the only thing we can do," he said. He wasn’t looking at Hotch, nor even at the team as a whole—he was looking at you, directly and only at you. A calming, slightly nervous smile crossed his face, making you scoff. "Nothing’s going to happen to me. You’ll all be around, on the bus, near the stop."

With his words, the decision was made, and all you could do was shake your head in disbelief.

"I want to be on the same bus," you declared desperately, crossing your arms over your chest. You simply couldn’t reconcile with the fact that Spencer was willingly putting himself in harm's way—especially when the unsub's desire was to hurt people like him. "I’ll pose as a civilian. A random young woman. I shouldn’t seem like a threat, and someone from our team has to be inside."

"You’re right," Hotch replied, looking at you with sharp attention. "But it will be Elle."

You and your friend exchanged a confused look, startled by the firmness in his voice.

"I don’t think it makes much of a difference," she tried to intervene, which made you feel grateful.

Although, it didn’t change anything…

"I’m not obligated to explain myself to you about this decision, especially in front of the entire team. This is an order," Hotch announced with almost brutal professionalism. "The only thing I can say is that we need someone who won’t break character until the very end. Someone who won’t let emotions cloud their judgment."

"Are you sure you’re up for this?" Gideon asked, directing the question at Spencer. His tone was understanding, prepared to accept any refusal without judgment.

This time, he didn’t look at you. As Spencer nodded in confirmation, he actually avoided your gaze.

"Then we have the whole day to prepare for the sting. Let’s hope this leads to catching the unsub," Hotch concluded the meeting, signaling that you could leave the table.

You were torn between staying and screaming at your boss or leaving the room after Reid. Well, the second option wouldn’t get you fired. And, honestly, it seemed like the better choice. It turned out he wanted to talk to you too, as he was clearly waiting for you in the narrow hallway of the inn, where animal antlers hung on the walls and an informational board about moose was displayed.

"Are you angry because I want to do this?" he asked, the narrow walls around you making you stand quite close. Well, not as close as you could be, but close enough to add gravity to the conversation and allow you to study his face carefully.

Especially his determination. The determination for this job, for solving the case, and for preventing others from suffering the same tragic fate at the hands of this killer. Finally, you understood that your reaction was a bit irrational. Because if the victims were young women with your looks... you’d agree to it without hesitation. Some hypocrisy, huh?

"No. I'm just terrified that you're going to do this," you confessed, your honesty and concern making his face twitch in surprise. You snorted, trying to ease the tension. "I’m angry at Hotch for calling me emotionally unstable in front of all of you."

Spencer smiled gently, though there was stress hiding behind it. He may have been determined to go through with it, but that didn’t change the fact that there was fear accompanying him. He tried not to show it, but anyone in his position would feel it.

"Well, in his defense, he phrased it a bit more subtly."

You let out a soft laugh, stretching your arm out to gently touch his forearm. As your hand slid up, you leaned in a little, the simple gesture helping you feel more grounded and at ease.

His gaze followed your movements with a gentle satisfaction. You didn’t pull him closer, you were simply stroking his arm in that easy, caring way that calmed both of you.

"You’ve never done this before, have you?" you asked quietly. "You’ve never put yourself in this position like this."

He shook his head in denial.

"I’m really... really worried that I’ll do something wrong and we won’t be able to catch him because of me."

"You should worry about yourself, Spencer. Not about that. I’m sure you’ll play your part better than anyone could. "But I really regret that I won’t be able to be right next to you, in case something goes wrong."

His lips parted and closed in a kind of... amusement?

"I was going to say that maybe Hotch could be convinced, but then I realized, no, he won’t be. No matter what you say. And besides, having you there wouldn’t let me focus fully."

"I’m aware of that," you joked, tossing your hair dramatically. "After all, I look stunning."

"I was more referring to the fact that I’d be focused only on making sure nothing happens to you, but yeah. That’s one of the reasons too."

You fell silent, oddly moved by that confession. It was so simple, driven by care, affectionate. And it definitely made your head spin in the context of your relationship. You shook your head, pulling yourself away from those thoughts. As long as you were in Alaska, you could afford anything. After that, who knows.

You swallowed and put on a playful expression, it came with some effort, but you managed.

"Okay, genius-boy. Let me prepare you. You need to know how to behave."

"I thought I was just supposed to be myself," he noted, letting you pull him by the wrist.

"Well, mostly, yes. But it's still better to rehearse, get you into character. Don't you have any random fun facts to share?"

"I always have some fun facts to share. An endless amount."

"We'll see."

For the rest of the day, up until the inevitable moment of setting the trap for the unsub, you listened carefully to everything he had to say. His constant chatter allowed him to occupy his mind, pushing the stress aside to the point that, when it was time for him to head to the designated location, he seemed almost surprised that the hour had come. Only then did certain shadows begin to cross his face.

You paced restlessly around the inn as the whole team prepared. Your task was to take a position with Gideon at a certain distance from the bus stop, to cut off the unsub's escape route if necessary. The bus driver had agreed to cooperate, and JJ was giving him instructions, asking him to act as naturally as possible. There were to be no civilians on board, only Elle and a few inconspicuous local police officers. Hotch and JJ planned to follow the bus from a distance by car. Morgan was to lay low at the bus stop, also posing as a civilian.

You moved closer to Spencer, breathing heavily, his presence alone calming you down.

“You’ll be fine,” you reassured him just before you were about to leave. Morgan gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, and everyone was still gathered around you. You gently hugged him, just as any other friend would, just like Elle and JJ had moments before.

He, on the other hand, wasn’t concerned with appearances. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and rested his chin on top of your head in a strong, lingering embrace.

“Y/N, you and Gideon need to go now," Hotch interrupted.

As you were walking away, you noticed out of the corner of your eye that he also gave Reid a brief squeeze on the shoulder.

It was a truly tense moment. You found yourself in a position where you had no visibility on what was happening inside the bus, nor could you gauge the gravity of the situation. All you could hear through the earpiece was Elle's whispered signal informing you that the suspect, fitting the profile, had just entered the vehicle.

And even though you didn’t have high hopes for the plan, everything unfolded exactly as it was meant to. Spencer exited the bus, and the unsub followed him. The suspect seemed intent on tracking him down that desolate, shadowy road, planning to attack and abduct him. But at the last moment, Reid turned, and before the man could react, he was surrounded by the police.

On your last night in Alaska, you found yourself on top, with his head resting against the headboard of the bed, his hands placed on your hips, and in a position where you could look at each other and talk.

"You really did great today," you praised, leaning in to gently kiss his collarbone.

He didn't seem flattered by your words, no smile on his lips, just that sad, aching expression that caused you pain. Wanting to shake off the feeling, you quickened your movements, hoping it would work, but then he tightened his embrace, making you slow down once again.

"I want... I want to enjoy you," he said with a slightly embarrassed tone, his fingers tracing restless, tender circles on your bare skin. "Since this is our last time together."

For a moment, he gazed at your face, as if hoping you would say something. But he couldn't find any trace in your expression that would suggest you had changed your mind. The small, naive spark in his eyes faded. Elle's words about breaking the cycle echoed in your mind, but not in your heart. You couldn't turn them into reality; you simply couldn't. The agreement remained the agreement.

Once you returned, everything would go back to how it was before.

another author's note: I plan to create a tag list and I want to know who among you would like to be on it. please, let me know in the comments.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spence reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #criminal mind #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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nikovraskol · 5 days ago

Note

Yk what would be crazy if past reader (16 year old version of them) got transported to the future in which they’re dead. Like imagine seeing ur kid (that you’ve neglected for so long ) just show up to your doorstep again but it’s the young version of them. Like what would be their reaction? I imagine reader just being so confused bc one minute they were at school and the next they’re being hugged by the batfam.

I love your batfam series and I honestly can’t wait to see more omlllll I love the way this is headed 🫶

thank u for this delicious request.. yall.. i've written soso many drafts for all ur requests but i dont want to overstimulate yall..its important to make sure to go at a pace your partner is comfortable with :(

masterlist

at sixteen, i imagine reader to be very nervous for the future, sixteen is two years from eighteen and i believe that they're scared that once they're a legal adult they'll no longer have any chance to be accepted -- that they'll be too old.

also, i know some goober is gonna ask so let's decide that 21 y/o (name) was able to return their 16 y/o body while 16 y/o kept their body, well, 21 y/o's body was drained of their life force and unlike jason with superboy indirectily healing him.. can we understand what im tryna say

so let's paint a picture, you're casually in school, feeling depressed because when are you not? your teacher drones on in the background as you scribble notes in your book lazily.

you're trying to drown out in your teacher one minute and then the next you're staring at the door to the manor.

oh. okay.

you're understandably a little puzzled but you brush it off, it's not the first time you've disassociated, it hadn't happened in a while but you're under a lot of stress with school and the crippling sorrow threatening to swallow you.

so you open the door, completely unaware you're walking to your doom, you step inside, your head hung low as you morosely walk in, not excited to be back in this manor of gloom and doom.

and then you hear it, a loud, absolutely offended shriek -- to which you don't look, it's not any of your business, they're probably just playing around without you, indulging in their inside jokes.

and then you're embraced, tightly, too tightly.

"what the--" you're.. being hugged? is alfred feeling alright?--

and then you see the jet-black hair you've seen countless times in passing, and then you feel the warmth of his body against yours, and then he looks up at you -- eyes wild and focused on you. only on you.

"what the fuck?" you're genuinely, so unbelievably confused. have you died? is this heaven?

"you're-- you're alive? this is real?" bruce breathes out, your father is looking at you. looking at you like you're his child, your lips tug into a thin line as you watch as the rest of the clowns join the circus.

oooh boyy.

you probably don't even notice the fact that you've switched universes at first.

like, you're so confused but also lavishing in the attention-- i mean, this is what you've wanted your whole life, right?

bruce is hanging off your every word, no longer does he brush you off or ignore you, he stares at you intently -- memorising every part of your face, every twitch of your muscles, every single detail of you, his precious child, alive in the flesh.

dick clings onto you way too much. every waking moment of the day he's by your side, sometimes he'll hug you tight, his hand gently snaking to press against the pulse point on your wrist, his eyes strangely darkened as he feels your pulse thumming against your skin.

jason is similar to dick in this scenario, the guilt from the incident weighing heavy on his mind, he doesn't let you out of his sight, he's always lingering. he's also way more protective in a smothering way, you're cooking? don't be silly, you might cut yourself! you're running around? slow down, you might fall! you're leaving the manor? why? what do you need? don't leave him, please, never again.

tim is a lot more .. atuned to your emotions. he regularly asks how you feel, at first it's more-so because he is truly glad you're back, he wants to make up for the past! but after a while, it gets to a point where it feels like you're being studied. he's just making sure you're not upset, that you're not thinking of leaving, again.

damian is downright terrifying, not in a violent way, but in a way that you're not sure how to react.. i mean, he used to be the one to belittle you the once, seeing him being so.. gentle. it's unnerving! he's almost kind to you? he'll soften his words, urge you to rest, it's .. strange. very strange.

after a while, the attention gets suffocating. very suffocating. you enjoy the attention, in fact, you've never been happier. but since coming home since that one day, you've not had a moments peace.

you wake up, someone's hovering over you. you go to eat, someone's making sure you don't choke. you're going for a walk? no, you're not.

it gets loathsome, you feel like a porcelain doll. you're not allowed any freedom, you don't go to school anymore -- anytime you bring it up you get strange looks.

that's not the only oddity. you feel different, stranger. not only are you taller, but your mind is different, and while buying something from the store, you notice an id. what? an id that says your age is twenty-one.

and another thing, alfred, the man you consider a father, is dead. dead. like, buried in the ground dead.

if you try to bring it up with your family, they share strange looks. they won't tell you, no, they want to keep you happy -- want to ignore the fact that you're not really their y/n, so don't bring it up too often. kay??

#yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #dc fanfiction #platonic batfam #platonic yandere batfam #platonic yandere #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batman #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne

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konpeitonom · 5 days ago

Note

hii can u do mw characters hallucinating their dead partner??:3thx btw love ur posts

tulpar crew hallucinating their dead partners.

sfw— lowercase intended ^_^

g/n reader (i think) — content warning for self harm/substance abuse.. so sorry!!

requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^

notes; i was super excited to do this request! finally got around to doing it. sorry if this a wee bit inaccurate, i’ve never had severe hallucinations like what im portraying here but i tried my best anyway. take this as a happy 100+ follower celebration! never written for all the cast before so this was really fun. i don’t rlly like this haha but hopefully u guys do

curly

— i’d break him. and i think he wouldn’t be able to work properly as captain if they were frequent. and he’d feel a lot of guilt about that. everyone’s counting on him, he can’t be so hung up on the past.

— would confide in jimmy about it, and jimmy would make some comment about he’s not fit to work if he’s seeing hallucinations of his dead partner- maybe even shame him a little..

— i’d freak him out every time i’d happen. he’d have to leave the room if someone else was there, to go cry somewhere private.

— he already has issues sleeping, but i’d make it much worst. which would only make the hallucinations worst. he can never catch a break..

— he knows he’d never get over your passing, especially if it was tragic/something he could’ve prevented- but he didn’t think he’d go crazy like this.

jimmy

— he would be pissed, seriously. he’d go mad. he’d resort to drinking or self harm if it was possible.

— i only say self harm as a.. he’d stand right in front of you, cut himself and say stuff like.. “you wanted this, right? is that why you’re here? came back to fucking haunt me?”

— he’s completely scummy, and would start blaming you. his view of you would be completely tainted. but then would start feeling upset about how he’s ruined even the image of you.

— to ground himself, he’d just look at old pictures- maybe look at your old clothes if he got the chance. he doesn’t wanna ruin you, but he does. even in death, you can’t run from him.

— all around a mess. haha. he’s confused, maybe a little scared- but still selfish old jimmy..

— i mean, death is regular. it happens. people he’s known, been close to, have died. but for him to be seeing you? and so vividly too? that’s not normal, not at all.

anya

— anya would find a lot of comfort in it. she knows it isn’t healthy, but she can’t help but maybe enjoy it a little. it’s nice to know you’re always there, even if it’s just her mind playing tricks on her.

— i think the first time it happened, she’s very quick to pull herself together. and then she’s very self aware of what’s happening.

— i think she’d feel a lot of guilt.. you’ve passed, and you should rest easy- and here she is still clinging onto the past. you’d be upset if you saw her like this, which is the only reason she’d try to push it away.

— still though.. she can’t help it. you look so real, and who’s it hurting? it’s not hurting her, that’s for sure. it makes her happy.

— would do anything to feel your presence once more, maybe staring at your photo as she cuddles with a pillow.. purposely not sleeping, so the chances of her hallucinating you are higher..

swansea

— like jimmy, he’d go crazy. mentally, he’s struggled before, but not to the extent where he’s seeing vivid images of you. i’d scare the shit out of him.

— would.. likely delve back into alcoholism. what’s the point of being sober if his spouse isn't alive? not like they’ll know anyway. he’d feel maybe a bit of guilt but not enough to stop.

— he would not be able to work properly. maybe only with daisuke, as he knows he can’t break down infront of some kid. he’s old enough to know how to hold himself together.

— maybe similar to anya, there’s slight feelings of comfort. but he can’t do that to you, so he tries his best to move the fuck on over it.

daisuke

— he’d be scared, severely. as the youngest of the crew, he’s constantly hearing things about how life is only gonna get worse as you grow older.. and he thinks, ‘there’s things worse than hallucinating my dead partner in store for me?’

— would try to push through it. put on a happy face in front of his co-workers and parents, as you sit there in the back of his mind.

— he wouldn’t know what to do. he doesn’t wanna bother anyone, doesn’t wanna be a burden. he wants people to look at him and think highly of him, not pity him.

— spends a lot of his free time just.. laying in bed. distracting himself with his hobbies and interests no longer works as he can’t bring himself to care.

— he’d draw often, i think. mostly you. only because he knows how upset you’d be if you found out he’d given up drawing.

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jemiswumbo · 7 months ago

Text

bulletproof love (18+)

twitchstreamer!luke x reader

author’s note: omgg this oneshot took all my blood sweat and tears to produce. i am NOT a graphic designer. i do NOT normally write smut. but this idea had to come to fruition before i went insane. HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY!!!!

title is from bulletproof love by pierce the veil. lyrics have no correlation but it IS a certified banger.

tags/warnings: smut!! minors dni. oral (m receiving). use of y/n. not proofread. kinda long. teeheehee etc.

You met Luke Castellan at the grocery store.

He looked like a completely normal (albeit, very attractive) guy in his twenties. His dark curls fell slightly over his warm, chocolate brown eyes. A mischievous smirk was plastered across his cheeks, showing off a small dimple on the left side. He wore a simple hoodie and sweats as he perused the pasta aisle, picking up different jars of sauce and reading the labels absentmindedly. He did, however, have an interesting scar sitting jagged over his cheekbone, but it was so faint that you hadn’t noticed it until way later on.

You would have never guessed he was a near millionaire with close to a million social media followers. You would have never guessed he spent the majority of his life not at the grocery store, but rather streaming FPS and RPG games for an average of fifty thousand views at a time.

You would have never guessed he’d take a liking to you.

You, who worked part time at this very grocery store. You, who didn’t really know the first thing about video games, except that they were confusing and it was insane that some people could build ridiculously complex structures at a mind-boggling speed on Fortnite whilst also shooting with godly precision.

He had backed into you accidentally whilst you were restocking a shelf, causing you to drop a couple glass jars that cracked open upon impact with the floor. You apologized, even though you’d really done nothing wrong. He obviously thought you attractive (or maybe he just didn’t leave the house much?) because his idea of an apology was taking you out to some lavishly expensive dinner the next night.

The dinner was okay but the conversation is what got you hooked. He was so sweet and told you so many wild stories that had you laughing until your chest ached. He paid for the meal and held your hand on the drive home. When he dropped you off, he casually told you his Instagram handle and told you to shoot him a follow. You blushed, smiled, and scurried inside.

You just about died when you saw his profile.

ii.

It’s been about a year since you had started dating Luke Castellan, otherwise known as his twitch handle “SonofHermes.”

(“Because he’s the messenger god, right? In, like, Greek Mythology? And I felt like a damned messenger god when I was a moderator for four different discord servers and a twitch chat—“)

Luke’s twitch streams occured mostly every night, from 8pm to about 3am. He always began his streams with some FPS game (Overwatch, Valorant, CS:GO, or something similar). After a few hours he would swap over to a different game for his variety segment. His chat was hilarious. They loved to tease Luke and joke around with him and donate silly messages. And, of course, because Luke was so very attractive, a decent chunk of his fan base was dedicated towards swooning over his every word and look and smile.

You, honestly, never really minded. Mostly because Luke was yours. You were sure the thirsting from chat would diminish once they knew you were dating. But… you really, truly, had no desire to be in the public eye. Having nearly a million people know your name and your face was daunting and scary. You also had enough common sense to realize that some of his fans were probably batshit crazy and would send you hate and death threats for dating Luke. You were a part time employee and a student; you did not need another reason on top of that to have poor mental health.

Luke loved you unconditionally and that was all that mattered. You were perfectly content spending most evenings to yourself. He was a good boyfriend, though, and did schedule days off to take you out and show you incredible amounts of love and support. You were both very happy and secure in your relationship.

One particular evening, you were staying over at Luke’s apartment. It was a Friday, and you had no work tomorrow, so he bought alcohol and weed and selected a list of movies to marathon. It was basically your most ideal way to spend the weekend.

That was, until, Luke’s gamer friends messaged him on discord, begging him to join their Rust server to defend their group base.

Luke had met these friends through Twitch events and game conventions. There was Percy, who streamed with his girlfriend Annabeth. They were one of the most adored couples in the gaming community. They all lived in the same state, so Luke hung out with them pretty often. There was also Grover, who was Percy’s roommate and would join his streams from time to time. As well, there was Thalia, who was a huge advocate for women in eSports, and played in a professional league. Luke had introduced them too you a few months ago, and they all swore to help keep your relationship a secret.

The five of them often played different games together, as most of their fanbases consisted of the same people, so it really raked in the views and made for good content. Plus, it was just really fun. You knew how much Luke loved his friends and cherished the times they got to play together.

The Rust server was a recent hyperfixation that you were positive would fade once a new MMO came out to grab their attention. But, you were also aware of how much time and effort Luke had spent constructing this base of his.

“Go,” you said, noticing his confliction. “You can have one hour to play. Stream, too, so I can watch out here. But after that, you’re mine for the rest of the night.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Luke said with his devilish grin. He kissed you hard, leaving a swarm of butterflies dancing in your stomach. He hurried off to his bedroom, where he kept his gaming setup, and shut the door.

You were fine with spending an hour alone. Flipping through Netflix, you cracked open a bottle of wine and relaxed into the sofa.

One hour went by fast. Luke didn’t return to the living room.

You picked up your phone and opened the Twitch app, clicking on Luke’s stream. He was currently in the middle of some intense adventure with Percy. Luke’s webcam was situated in the top left corner of the game feed, and he looked so cute and handsome under the glow of the monitor and the purple LED lights.

To be honest, the wine was getting to you. You felt such a strong desire to be near Luke and to feel him and be with him. He bit his lip on camera, deep in concentration, and that action alone had your heart rate increasing.

“Fuck it,” you said, turning off the TV and standing up from the couch. His hour was up, and it was time to take the matter into your own hands.

iii.

Luke enjoyed playing his games with the volume high in his headphones. It allowed him to feel like he was actually in the game, and unaware of the outside world. This also was an issue, because more often than not he would lose track of time and forget about his plans and scheduled events.

He just couldn’t help it — he loved video games. Currently, he was busy perfecting his base on Rust so it wouldn’t be broken into again. It took a lot of effort and concentration, and Percy and Grover dicking around and goofing off did nothing to help his focus.

So, it only made sense that he didn’t notice his bedroom door opening. The door wasn’t in frame on his camera, so he didn’t see it open, either. He didn’t notice it close. He didn’t notice you, getting down on all fours and crawling over to his desk setup.

He didn’t notice you, at all, until you put a hand on his leg.

Luke jumped a bit and glanced down, meeting your mischievous glance and the naughty smile on your cheeks.

“Uh, chat — sorry, gotta go to the bathroom, one sec —“ Luke rushed out. He shut off his camera and muted his mic, double checking that it was definitely muted by quickly scanning the latest messages in his chat:

He rolled his eyes at the messages, and pushed his chair back, glaring at you on the floor. “Baby, what the hell are you doing?!”

You smiled. “I was just missing you, is all.”

“So you snuck in — wait, shit, you said one hour. It’s been an hour hasn’t it?” Luke said, running a hand through his messy curls.

You nodded, and gave a weak shrug. “It’s okay, though. I think it would be fun if we also played a game of our own.”

Luke raised his eyebrows, feeling a blush form on his cheeks. “What’re .. what’re you suggesting?”

You unbuttoned your blouse and tossed to the floor, leaving you in a lacy black bra and your mini skirt. You let your fingers linger on the strap of your bra. “I’ll let you stream longer. But.. once you cum, you have to shut it off.”

“You want to blow me on stream?” Luke asked, incredulously. He could already feel himself start to harden at the thought of this ‘game’ of yours occurring.

“Like, secretly, though.” You said with a slight eye roll. “You can try to keep your composure for as long as you can, but you’ll be all mine for the rest of the night. Okay?”

Luke took a minute to ponder. If he somehow got caught… the consequences would be severe. His reputation would be tarnished. He’d lose his job and his income and the entire career he had worked so hard to build.

But on the other hand.. you looked really fucking sexy, staring at him with your doe-eyes, feigning innocence in the most seductive lingerie he’d ever seen you in.

“Fuck’s sake.” Luke pulled his chair back towards his desk. He tugged his sweatpants down to his ankles, giving you a face full of his half hard cock and his toned, muscular thighs. “You have to be quiet too, you little slut. I seriously cannot get caught.”

“Of course,” you replied, slightly moaning as you took his length into your hand. “You’re so incredibly attractive.”

“Shut up,” Luke said, adjusting his camera angle to absolutely ensure it cut off at his upper chest and nothing lower than that was visible. He took a deep breath and was about to rejoin his stream, when you began sucking him off. “Fuck!”

You pulled your lips off of him with a loud pop. “Come on, Lukey, you can last longer than that.”

“You’re mouth feels so fucking good though,” Luke groaned, threading his fingers through your hair. He took another deep breath and guided your head back to his cock, which was now fully hard and aching for your mouth. This time, when you licked up his shaft, he was more prepared and was able to maintain his chill composure. “Okay. Okay, baby, I’m turning my stuff back on. Be quiet, please.”

You nodded, slowly taking him back into your warm mouth.

Luke turned on his camera. He turned on his mic. He ran a hand through his hair and grabbed his mouse and keyboard. “Okay, I’m back. Chat, please tell me Percy and Thalia didn’t do anything stupid while I was gone.”

“Hey!” You heard, faintly from Luke’s headset. “We didn’t do anything, and if your chat says otherwise, they are lying!”

You giggled as quietly as you could, and clearly the vibrations from such movement felt good for Luke, because you heard him take a sharp intake of breath.

“Wh-whatever. Doesn’t matter. Let’s get back to work.” Luke said defensively.

“What?” Percy asked. “You sound weird, man. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong!” Luke replied, too quickly and at an octave higher than he normally speaks. You couldn’t help but get a little nervous. He was terrible at being subtle.

“Okay…” This was a girl’s voice, and sounded like Thalia. “My chat agrees that you’re being weird.”

“Same.” Percy agreed.

“Yeah, well,” Luke scanned his second monitor to check in on how his chat was reacting. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “My chat is being dumb, as per usual.”

Below the desk, your nerves had subsided and instead you became preoccupied with the notion of possibly getting caught. It was kind of twisted but this caused your lower region to dampen. You lifted your short little skirt over your hips and moved your lacy underwear to the side, giving you access to finger yourself.

You moaned, with your mouth full of thick, heady cock, and brain slightly foggy from the wine consumption. You were close already.

“What?” Luke said, clearly reading something on his monitor. “Chat, that was my phone vibrating on my desk. I did not moan over that headshot Percy made. Be so for real”

“Rude,” Percy said. “I would’ve moaned. I’m like, the god of gaming.”

“Loser.” Luke responded, biting his lower lip and slightly bucking his hips into your mouth. He must’ve been getting close, too.

From that moment on, you were desperate to make Luke finish. You abandoned your slow and gentle place, and took his entire cock down your throat. You silently gagged, and bobbed your head up and down, making sure to suck a bit longer on his leaking tip. You grabbed his balls in your right hand and squeezed, keeping your left hand on his upper thigh.

“Fuck,” Luke murmured, just under his breath. You sucked harder in response. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“What is going on, dude?” Percy questioned. “You’re stressing me out.”

Luke glanced over at his chat again.

Luke flipped a middle finger to his camera, and gave a playful, “Chat, you all suck.” Obviously, he loved his fans and was eternally grateful for their support. It was just fun to mess around with them and feign a love hate relationship. It did make him a bit anxious, however, that everyone easily picked up on the fact that something was affecting Luke. It didn’t exactly help that he was really close to finishing and was starting to lose track of what was happening in the game. All he could feel was his cock going in and out and in and out of your soft lips, that were now coated in a mixture of salvia and his precum. It was just about driving him insane.

You, on the other hand, were knuckle deep inside your own cunt and sucking Luke off with so much fervour your jaw was starting to ache. But you loved the feeling. And you were determined to get him off. Now.

Suddenly, Luke felt the familiar feeling build inside himself. Before he realized it was happening, he was shooting thick ropes down your eager throat. “Fuck!” he screamed, legs shaking and eyes squeezing shut. He shuddered and gasped for air as you did not let up on your pace, sucking every last drop of cum from him.

He realized how fucking weird this whole ordeal must’ve looked to his many (many, many) viewers.

Instead of confronting what just happened, he slammed his mouse on the End Stream button and shut off his computer, without so much as a goodbye. He pushed his chair back and grabbed your shoulders, pulling you up to your feet.

You smiled at him sweetly, a sheen of sweat covering your entire body. Luke leaned down and kissed you hungrily.

“Y/n,” he said, once he was out of breath from such an intense kiss. “I.. Need. To be inside of you. And you can never, ever do that again.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed innocently. “Kinda seemed like you really liked it though.”

“Oh, shut up.” Luke said with a grin. “Bed. Now.”

You obliged, heading over to his comfy queen sized bed, unaware that you were about to have the most mind blowing sex of your entire life.

authors note: aaaaa ok. first of all i’d like to apologize. i have not proofread this at all and i wrote each chunk on separate days. i will proofread it eventually and fix the errors lmao.

also! now that all the ~lore~ to this AU is sorted, if you ever wanna send me twitchstreamer!luke specific prompts, i would ADORE THAT.

thank you all again for reading !!!!! <3

taglist: @notacluelessblonde00 @lilyirlevans

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan #percy jackson #pjo #jemiswriting #why am i so embarassed to post this…#oh wait i know #it’s bc i cannot write smut to save my life LOL! :)

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klemen-tine · 6 months ago

Note

You don’t have to write this, it’s just an idea I wanted to share. (:

Where the reader is someone who closely resembles a lost family member, say brother in their case, who died.

He has the same mannerisms, responds in the same snarky way. He may even physically resemble the lost teen, maybe he has the same coloured eyes, or wears the same boyish clothes. But not too similar, it’s just the way he acts. It’s so similar it’s almost uncanny.

And it’s like something snapped in the family. Like their missing piece was found. But this random kid (turning adult), probably works near where they frequently patrol, or goes to the same school as one of them as a senior, has a family. Admittedly a shitty one as what Gotham family isn’t, but still has one. He has a life, he isn’t their dead brother.

But they don’t care. He’s theirs. He’s being called their brothers name, taken to their manor, forced to live in the dead brothers room. Because the reader is their brother. Whether he likes it or not.

Thanks for reading. If you want to write it that would be awesome, but you’ve already done a request for me so I don’t have a problem if you don’t have any desire write it. Please respond if you think the idea is shitty haha

Puppy

(Yandere Batfam X Male! Reader Platonic)

Warning: Emotional abuse (?), slight suicidal ideation (its like a line)

@jaythes1mp

@Rosecentury

@problematicreblogger

@Kurai-hono-blog

When Tim had first seen those E/C eyes, staring into his own blue eyes and very much alive, he had raced back to the manor and checked if the grave had been defiled. He checked, and checked again if the body of their brother had been taken. When the dirt proved not to be disturbed, he raced back to the batcomputer and began researching.

Y/N L/N, a high school dropout and a worker at one of the nail salons near a cafe the Wayne family frequents, and with two very alive parents had filled all the screens in the Batcave. His school records, no run in with the law, he was simply a kid that had to drop out of school to support his family.

He is a kid that looks so unfairly like B/N in those clothes he always wore. The family had thought Tim was crazy, obsessing over this budding young adult that Tim had only run into once.

Then Dick ran into him. Standing in line for his drink, he saw exactly what Tim saw. Intense E/C eyes, meeting his for only a second, before turning around back to his friends. The smile is only slightly different and the laugh an octave lower, but virtually the same. Dick was staring at his dead brother’s doppelganger.

He had snapped a photo and raced back to home, dying to show the others. From there, two things had begun. The first was an all out investigation on the person known as Y/N, from Cass and Stephanie befriending him at the salon, and the brother’s befriending him outside of his work. Even Bruce began helping and ‘accidentally’ running into Y/N. The more they got to know Y/N, the more it began to soothe the wound that B/N had left when he passed. Physically, they were different besides the eyes. However, everything else was so unfairly like B/N, that if someone told Bruce that B/N was alive and just got plastic surgery and changed his name to Y/N, he would believe them.

Y/N cracked the same jokes, folded his hands in the same way, and had the same look when listening. Like every word spoken was the gospel and the person speaking deserved to be heard.

Y/N’s parents, from the deep dive Tim did, could be bribed. Their silence could be bought and compliance forced. Dad had a criminal history, and mom preferred to buy love from gigolos then shower her child in it. It was too easy. Almost insultingly so.

Which is why when CPS called saying they got a complaint, and that Y/N was to be placed in the foster care of Bruce Wayne, the parents didn’t throw a fit or cry out for their son that was being placed in the back of a black car.

Bruce could only offer his shoulder as Y/N had sobbed on the new bed, in a new room, in a new place.

“Th-they’re not bad par-parents! Why would someone call?” Bruce rubbed Y/N’s back comfortingly, listening and saying nothing as Y/N continued to cry, “They-they didn’t even fight for me Bruce. They just watched.” It was a rough transition, but it was made. Y/N had kept to himself for the most part, until around the second week where he started to emerge more from his room and hang around the other kids.

It would be two months in which Y/N began to notice some things. At first it started with shopping.

“C’mon, Y/N! It’s your favorite store.” He stared up at the high end fashion stores and he knows that never in his life has he ever been in here. His family was too poor to buy anything outside of a thrift store.

Nevertheless, he narrowed his eyes but played along. He watched the price tally up enough to give him a stroke, and he nearly passed out when Dick simply pulled out a card without batting an eyelash.

“Y/N, it’s your favorite restaurant!” Y/N hates this type of food.

“Y/N! I got it in your favorite color.” This is definitely not his favorite color.

“Y/N, your favorite show is on.”

“Y/N, your favorite-”

“Y/N-”

“B/N-”

“What did you just call me?” Y/N met Damian’s green eyes in bewilderment. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the younger boy, and he glanced around to the paused Tim. It was a genuine question, but the alarm bells began ringing louder than ever.

Everything slowly falling into place as the actions began to fall into place.

“It was a mix up in names.” Y/N narrowed his eyes, but let it slide. But then it happened again. And again. And again. It got the point that it was becoming a habit to respond. Y/N caught himself a few times, and he began to wonder if this was some new psychological trick.

Like calling a puppy by a new name until it responds. Thing thing is, is that it isn’t even a new name. Its the name of their dead brother, B/N.

Everyone knows how B/N Wayne died. It wasn’t a secret and it became the reason for one of the biggest Grants in Gotham. B/N Wayne had died tragically in a car accident. A driver under the influence had T-boned B/N’s car, causing it to flip and to steer into the side of the bridge. It’s only because its Gotham that the rails didn’t break, but the damage had already been done. B/N Wayne had been pronounced dead on the scene and the driver arrested. Now, the Wayne family funds one of the biggest grants in Gotham, possibly the East Coast, for families who have lost someone to a DUI accident.

Bruce can remember staring into the cold and bloody face of his son. The skin was pale and looking like wax, and those E/C eyes were forever closed. He held those bruised cheeks within his hands and he cried for the child that will never be an adult.

Then, a few years later, Y/N L/N shows up out of nowhere with the same eyes and personality. Smiling the same way, laughing the same way, and even having the same mannerisms. Bruce saw his son in Y/N, and wanted nothing more than to take him home. The rational part of Bruce knows that Y/N was not B/N, and that it would be cruel to everyone if he continued to act like it.

B/N would have hated it.

Yet, as Bruce continued to watch Y/N get in his old car, one that was bought from a seedy person but a necessity because Y/N’s house was nowhere near his work, Bruce couldn’t stop the lurch in his throat or the way his heart almost stopped. Pictures of the wreck, of his son’s cold and emotionless face, filled his mind the same way his parents’ dead bodies do. Forever haunting.

When Y/N had been brought to the manor, Bruce made the rule clear: Y/N is to never drive. It’s an easy rule that everyone follows. Even Alfred, the only one who could see how wrong all of this was, abided by the rule.

Slowly but surely, everything was falling into place. They were so entranced with the idea of B/N being back that they had momentarily forgotten something. Y/N knows he is not B/N.

++++

“Y/N do not get in that driver’s seat!” He slammed his foot on the petal, and the screeching of tires only momentarily hurt his ears. Y/N knows, he knows he is just encouraging them to chase. This had turned into a cat and mouse chase, and by taking off and driving away, Y/N was only encouraging them to follow.

It's not like he could go anywhere. His credit and debit were all tied back to Bruce, he had no family (because those assholes are the reason he is in this situation), no friends willing to stick up to the Wayne family (not that he blames them), and he has only known Gotham. There is nowhere for him to go.

He knows this. Y/N knows this like he knows himself.

Yet, he needed to get away. Just for a bit. Just to have a moment to himself where he is Y/N, and not B/N. Not the dead child that has yet to come back to the Wayne family. Although, with how obsessive and possessive they were acting with Y/N, perhaps it is best that B/N does stay buried.

Y/N did not go into Gotham. He instead went towards the mountain range. B/N had died in Gotham. He had died in a car, in the driver’s seat, in Gotham City. Y/N was mad, yes. He was irritated and fed-up. However, he wasn’t cruel. As much as he wanted to, and he played with the idea like it was his favorite toy, he couldn’t bring himself to cause that much pain to Bruce, to Alfred, or even to the siblings. Maybe if they were abusive assholes and just terrible people doing this to be terrible. However, with his time spent with them, Y/N knows they aren’t terrible people. How can terrible people love someone as much as they loved B/N… right?

As much as his conscience encouraged him to, begged for him to, Y/N just couldn’t do it. So, he drove to the mountains, tears racing down his cheeks as he literally drove away from his problems and from the life he was chained to have. There is nowhere he could go that they couldn’t find him.

For fuck’s sake, he’s positive that worse comes to worse, they will call on Superman to help them locate him. Batman, for how proud he was, would do anything to locate his kids. That is something even Y/N knew. It was something that he had to come to terms with, and it felt that the whole Justice League was going to be his enemy if he ever decided to run away.

Y/N hit the steering wheel in anger. Six months ago he would have never done that, not to this beautiful car that was worth more than his life, but the frustration of it all had basically erupted. At least, here in the privacy of the car, he could vent and let out all the months of frustration and heartbreak.

Heartbreak because Y/N knows that they don’t love him for Y/N. They only love him as the replacement for B/N. All they see is B/N unless Y/N is doing something that B/N would never do.

‘Y/N, come back.’ The text message caused him to floor it, his vision blurring for a few seconds and the sight of a deer in the middle of the godforsaken road had him slamming on the brakes and nearly losing control. The screeching of tires and burnt smell of rubber had Y/N pulling over and catching his breath.

Tears continued to stream down his face and he shakily removed his hands from the steering wheel. He was breathing heavily as he did so, and he could feel his chest aching as the realization of what had happened. Turning around, he took in the empty road behind him and counted down the seconds before one of them would show up. He contemplated running. Forget the car and just start running to who knows where because this fucking sucks!

All of this! This whole entire situation is just so messed up and the worst part about it is that Y/N knows it could be worse. He’s not locked in a basement. He’s not chained up or drugged, or anything really. It’s just… its not him their affections are going towards, its the ghost of the child who is gone.

Gritting his teeth, Y/N tried starting the car only for the ignition to get stuck and no amount of jiggling, cursing, begging, or crying moved it.

“Fucking hell!” He hit the steering wheel again. He got out of the car, and in a fit of rage, he kicked the tire. Sort of like an animal trapped in a cage, he began pacing back and forth in front of the car, seething with rage.

His phone dinged, and Y/N didn’t even bother to read the text. He threw the phone across the road into the thickets beside the road. Y/N let out a loud rage-filled scream, and then sat next to the car. His back resting against the waxed door and he waited patiently for the sound of an engine, which wasn’t too long.

Looking out on the road, he could see the silhouette of a motorcycle, and he knows that it is Jason. Which is… odd. Him and Jason haven’t talked as much as he and the others have. Jason was sort of a sore subject in the house, and whenever he was over tensions were somewhat high. Not enough to stop Dick from being friendly, but enough for Y/N to escape whenever he was there.

“What do you want?” Y/N bit out at the large man as he hopped off the motorcycle and loomed in front of the crouched boy. When the helmet came off, Y/N was expecting to see an angry or even annoyed expression. One that would show Y/N just how irritated Jason was of having to drive out to the middle of nowhere to pick him up.

He wasn’t expecting to see the frantic look in Jason’s eyes. The man grabbed Y/N;s bicep and yanked him up, making the teen yelp in shock. Frazzled E/C met angry green, “You have a lot of nerve doing that,” Jason growled out and Y/N scrunched his nose in irritation.

“I have a lot of nerve? You all have a lot of nerve for treating me the way you do!” He pushed Jason’s chest, but the man’s grip only tightened, “How are we treatin’ ya, huh? Ya’ get great food, great clothes, ya’ neve have to worry about money. So just what are ya’ throwing a fit for?!” Y/N sometimes forgets that Jason is also an alley kid, but he would recognize that accent anywhere.

“As if any of that is for me.” Jason stilled and Y/N glared up at him, “Ya’ ain’t doin’ it because ya’ care about me. You’re only doin’ it because ya’ see me as B/N!” Jason looked ready to shoot him, and some part of Y/N was hoping that he did.

“We don’t-”

“Don’t lie to me!” Y/N screeched, and hit Jason’s chest again. Jason releases his grip, making Y/N stumble for a bit, “I know ya’ all don’t see me. Ya’ll just see the parts of B/N that ya’ want to see. If I didn’t act like him, or look like him, ya’ would have never talked to me in the first place.” A truth that was painful to admit but it had to be said. Y/N stared at Jason with tears racing down his cheeks as the bitter and painful truth filled the air between them.

“I know ya’ wouldn’t have befriended me, or whatever the hell this is. I know it, because there is nothing about me that strikes ya’ all besides the fact that my eyes and apparently my personality is similar to his.” Y/N took a deep breath, choking down sobs and wishing for his eyes to stop crying, “I know none of ya’ would have even glanced my way because what else do I have that any of ya’ could want?”

What else is he other than a replacement? If Y/N had different eyes and a different sense of humor, he would have nothing that the Wayne family would want. He would just be another passerby on the street. Another stranger working in a nail salon who just so happens to be a regular at the coffee shop next door.

Another soul that Gotham would have swallowed up within her dark secrets.

The simple truth is that Y/N is nothing but a placeholder. A cheap imitation. He is nothing but a puppy that parents give to their child after their other dog just died. A ‘feel better’ thing until the pain passes and then forgotten.

That is all Y/N is. That is all he will ever be. If he were to die, they wouldn’t mourn ‘Y/N.’ They would mourn another fragment of B/N.

Jason swallowed thickly, and a lot gentler than he did before now that anger has subsided and he has a crying teen in front of him, he placed his hand on Y/N’s shoulder. He expected the flinch, just not one that made him wince.

“Y/N, I…” But what can he say to all the facts that are clearly presented before him? Jason didn’t know of Y/N outside of the manor. He never met Y/N at the coffee shop, or simply running into him on the streets.

He knew that the situation was fucked up. Hell, Jason himself had felt like a replacement for Robin, and it took a while for him to get over that he was not a replacement, just simply a new Robin. However, Y/N was a replacement for B/N. He was a bandaid for the family to heal.

Jason himself is guilty for using him like a replacement, and he wonders if B/N would be pissed at all of them for doing so. He would put money on ‘yes.’ Y/N’s livid at them.

“I know that this situation is fucked, and this isn’t how you would want to live. But from alley kid to alley kid, it's a pretty good situation.” Y/N rolled his eyes, and glared at Jason, “Of course you can see the positive because you’re part of the problem!”

Yeah, Jason saw that coming. It was a cheap excuse but he really didn’t have an answer. He stared down at the sobbing teen, and he could feel guilt crawling into his chest. He may have never asked for his brothers to do this, but he sure is being compliant with all of this.

“Do you want out of there that badly?” Y/N looked up at Jason through the tears, and Jason could feel his heart strings tug.

“What?”

“Do you want out that badly? Do know if ya’ leave, ya’ can’t really have a normal life. They’ll track ya’ down wherever ya’ go.” Y/N knows this. He knows that wherever he goes he doomed to have followers. Nevertheless, the idea was too appealing.

“Yes, please.” If he had looked closer he would have noticed how the smile Jason had became a bit sharper, and the green in his eyes more intense.

“Okay, c’mon. I may not be able to get ya’ out of Gotham, but I can at least hide ya’ until they calm down.” From one cage to another, Y/N followed Jason to his bike and wrapped his arms around the other.

Y/N doesn’t know, but Jason is a ball and chain all on his own. Once Y/N is in a safehouse, Jason will talk to the others to have them ‘adjust’ their attitudes. They may still see him as B/N, but they’ll hide it until they can finally see him as Y/N. Only then will the obsession grow.

For now, Y/N needs a break to calm down. As do the bats. Its only temporary housing. Thats it. From one cage to another, and Y/N has gone willingly to both.

#yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere dc #platonic yandere #batfam #platonic batfam #platonic batman #yandere dick grayson #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne #yandere jason todd #request

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emo-trash101 · 9 months ago

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hii! i dont know if your requests are open or not but can you du a sbg x reader with tyler and aiden where they won't leave the reader alone in the phantom realm (to make sure they're okay) but don't even look at their face in the normal world just because they have the biggest cruh on them? if you don't do thats totally fine tho \ (•◡•) /

Yeah ofc! I'm gonna do these as headcannons, but if you want oneshots just let me know

Tyler and Aiden x Reader

Pronouns: Second person, gender neutral

Tw: spoilers, Literally School Bus Graveyard as a whole

Tyler -

- So as we all know, Tyler is a certified worrier.

- And douchebag (sorry man, still love you)

- But he's very protective of the people he cares about, which luckily includes you.

- Which is why, after you tagged along to Savannah and went to the phantom world with him and everyone else, he panicked hardcore.

- Essentially his entire world came crashing down after he realized he could lose you and his sister.

- But the absolute best part: You didn't even know he liked you. He actually actively avoided you in the real world.

- A lot of times when others or you would point out how he's oddly protective of you, he brushes it off saying he's protective of everyone (We all know thats a lie.)

- And eventually everyone decides to just let it play out, and see what happens.

- After he dies in the phantom realm and wakes up in the hospital, he panics because thats when he realizes he can lose you too.

- After Aiden almost dies however, Tyler doubles down. He becomes more protective of you and Taylor, and eventually panic confesses to you.

- You are so astounded when he confesses because y'all like just woke up after Aiden died and he's like "I'm in love with you.", it's kinda bonkers.

Aiden -

- ??huh??

- I personally don't think he's the kinda guy to get embarrassed or anything around his crush whatsoever.

- Like the second he figured out he liked you, he just said it. And then y'all started dating

- However this does mean he doesn't leave you alone really ever, phantom realm or not.

- But honestly that's not too crazy, he's sweet about it.

- But he does worry about you a lot more now, and tries to keep an eye on you at all times. but obviously sometimes that just can't happen.

- But similar to Tyler, after both him and Tyler die, he worries about you so much more, to the point where it's slightly obsessive.

- Like he continues his irrational and lowkey crazy exterior, but he worries about you internally.

- He still cares though, and at least you've known it since the beginning

#school bus graveyard #school bus graveyard x reader #aiden clark #aiden clark x reader #sbg tyler #sbg tyler x reader

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animeyanderelover · 8 months ago

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Yay, your recs are open! Hope you're doing great and your health is good :)

This one is pretty dark, so ignore this if smth!

If you know about Tomie, could you do some jjk characters of your choice with a darling with similar powers? Like, she can't die fully, always returns no matter how cruel was her death, and for some reason all non-sorcerers are going crazy after being in contact with her for a some time – and, maybe, at some point even a yandere starts feeling a strange need to cause harm to her. Bonus points if she gives femme fatale vibes, but actually is much sweeter and kinder person than she may look.

Thanks, and have a great day!

I hope you don't mind that I made the darling in here the curse of obsession because this would fit the theme very nicely and would crank the Yandere scale to an incredibly creepy level. I know a bit about her since my best friend is a huge fan of Junji Ito works and she especially adores Tomie and Uzumaki.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, manipulation, isolation, abduction, death of s/o, murder, mentions of cannibalism, nudity, mentions of dub-con, sexual themes, starvation

The curse of eternal obsession

Okkotsu Yuta

💍Walking through the streets of Tokyo, no human would suspect you to be the cursed being that you are. Instead there is an aura of allure and mystery around you, something that seems to draw them to you like a moth to a flame. Bound to be consumed by the fire. Yet Yuta seems to bring a quick end to your life when he senses your eerie cursed energy. There are no words spared as he attacks you, your calm and beautiful face chilling as he exorcises you as if you have lived through death already multiple times before. Your face is something that seems to be stuck in his mind as it is the thing he sees as soon as he closes his eyes. It agitates him, disturbs him but he tries to calm himself by reminding himself that he has already killed you. Until he meets you again in the middle of the fight as you sit on the ground, surrounded by the blood of two men who have stabbed each other to death. When your eyes meet his own, there is the same serene look on your face as Rika brutally assaults you and Yuta watches how she tears you apart, a lump in his throat.

💍You should be dead. He watched how Rika murdered you. He even murdered you one time himself. Yet only a few days later you stand in front of him again, greeting him politely before you walk away, your hair swaying in the wind. Yuta can only watch you with a racing heart whilst you disappear in the crowd. A few days later he receives word that a group of friends were found all dead. The police suspects that all of them strangled and beat each other to death in violent ways that are rare to find and his mind immediately suspects you to be the culprit. Whenever you appear it only takes a few days before news about violent deaths and gruesome suicides appear on the news as your mere presence seems to drive non-sorcerers to madness yet he has seen with his own eyes that you seem to possess an immortality unlike anything he has ever seen. To protect the public from your cursed energy, he captures you the next time he finds you.

💍Yet when he tracks you down he is witness to a violent crime that would have made the average person empty their stomach. Even Yuta can't help the creeping feeling of horror as he watches a woman dismembering you with a saw before she cuts her own neck with the saw until she dies of blood loss. There is a strange sense of fury flowing through his veins as he collects every part of you, his heart clenching when he picks up your head with dull and lifeless eyes yet to his great disturbance even dismembered and dead, you still possess an attractiveness that he shouldn't feel about a violated corpse. He locks all of the parts away from you instantly and stays away from the room you are in to clear his mind and get away from the cursed energy you still seem to produce even in your temporary death. He can't get a wink of sleep that night as his heart never stops pounding nor does he seem to get your face out of his mind. When he gathers the courage the next morning to peek inside the room, his heart tumbles when he sees that you have regenerated and sit there completely naked, the sight of your body sending sparks of arousal through his body before he hurries up to give you something to wear.

💍He keeps you there, locked inside the basement and stays as far away from you as possible. He has never encountered a curse such as you that has affected him as greatly as you do and he has to fight constantly against the temptation to see you as he finds himself standing in front of the door separating you from him multiple times a day, his nails digging into his palms as he bites his lips until he can taste blood. Even when he is not seeing you, Yuta can still sense the cursed energy of yours that is wrapping itself around his body like a snake and as weeks pass by, he finds himself falling asleep to horrifying fantasies about you that have him waking up drenched in sweat and with a raging boner that only throws him down into a spiral of disgust, shame and insanity. Until one day after roughly three weeks your cursed energy disappears. He should feel relieved about it yet his heart drops with such intense anxiety that has him nearly ripping out the door leading to your room. As soon as he sees your thin and dead body laying on the ground, he feels something shattering as he suddenly bursts out in tears. He starved you to death.

💍He carries your light and thin body to his own bed and lays you down before he waits. He sits there and waits for hours in agony until your cursed energy picks up strength again and your body regains its healthy and otherwordly beauty. As soon as your eyes flutter open, Yuta's face is the first thing you sees. His heart starts beating with excitement as he tells you that he will prepare something to eat for you before he rushes to the kitchen. It is only after he has prepared the food and serves it to you that he realises what he is doing and for a short moment he feels a spark of hot wrath that you have reduced him to this yet when you open your mouth and he hears your voice for the first time, his anger melts away. It is a soft and sweet sound that echoes in his mind long after you have told him your gratitude for the food. An infatuated smile appears on his face as he watches you eat the food before he asks you if you would like to take a bath. The following days you suddenly get a lot more freedom, although you are still kept within the house but that isn't solely because you are a threat to non-sorcerers anymore. It is also because Yuta feels a possessive yearning to see you whenever he wants.

💍You are unlike any curse he has ever seen. Not only are you beautiful and gorgeous but you are also soft-spoken, kind and even somewhat shy. You help him with the household as you insist on showing your gratitude by preparing him meals and washing his clothes to the point where Yuta feels like you are his housewife and that image has his heart racing and his body reacting. You insist on sleeping on the couch when Yuta offers you to share a bed with him as you don't want to breach his private space and you reject it until he snaps at you with a frightening look on his face and a tight grip on your arms that could break bones. He instantly withdraws his hands when he regains his sanity and apologises hastily to you with tears in his eyes. He clings to your warm body at night, taking deep whiffs of your scent. Everything about you drives him crazy, the feeling of your skin against his electrical. There is a constant arousal keeping him half-hard at night as temptation grows stronger until he starts dry-humping against your thigh or ass, praying that you are asleep. Until you one night run your fingers soothingly through his hair whilst he is humping, causing him to let out a choked moan as he cums.

💍Yuta spends weeks on cloud nine as he fully indulges in everything. He treats you like his precious wife as he buys you cute dresses and even gifts you a ring which he insists for you to wear. You never deny him anything as you allow his touchy behavior as he holds your hands, kisses you and eventually even has sex with you and this fuels Yuta's delusion that you feel the same as he does. It is almost sickening how sweet he acts with you. All until one day he crosses paths with an acquaintance who knew someone who came in contact with you and when Yuta finds out that they know about your existance, he suddenly feels a feeling of paranoia about your safety as he suddenly sees this non-sorcerer as a threat to you. He feels the urge to call out Rika but decides to pry for information for now. They open up to him, perhaps because they just want to tell someone who shows interest as no one has believed them so far and the story that they tell him shatters his pretty delusion. They tell him how their dead ex-lover left them for you, abducted you and apparently even had sex with you and how they called them moments before they jumped from a building to tell them in tears that they ended up killing you.

💍Yuta lets Rika kill that person within the same day as a wrath has suddenly festered inside of him. At first he believes that they are lying because you only love him and you would never allow another person to touch you the same way he touches you. You love him. But when he sees their corpse, a realisation slowly settles in. You are a curse. A curse that has always driven people mad and Yuta is no exception. He's just killed an innocent non-sorcerer. And it's your fault. Disgust, pain and wrath cause him to spiral down violently as he all but storms back to his house to murder you and take revenge on you for deceiving and using him. When he arrives home, he finds you asleep on the couch and for a moment his eyes just take in your beauty as you lay there so innocently before his gaze zooms in on your neck. In the next moment he is choking you, his body on top of yours. Your eyes fly open as you start whining and choking whilst he is watching you with a dark glint in his eyes, taking in with joy your suffering form. Then your eyes meet his own though. No shock, ne fear, no guilt. Instead all he sees inside those orbs is acceptance and pity. You are pitying him.

💍It is this look in your eyes that throws him off as he lets go and stumbles away from you, staring at you with shock and agitation. Why are you giving him this look?! You don't say anything as you instead just give him a sweet smile that tears his heart open. What kind of monster are you to deceive him even now? You know how much he adores that smile of yours. He's on the verge of crying as he pulls out his katana to dismember you but then he suddenly freezes. His wrath dies down as he stares at the katana in his hands and his eyes widen as he drops it and sinks down on his knees as he suddenly becomes aware of his own horrifying thoughts he just had. He just looks at you for a few minutes before he suddenly bursts out in tears when he seems to realise something. That you never had any choice but allow people to do what they want to do with you. Your own curse brings you as much misery as everyone around you and your immortality forces you to endure it over and over again. You are a victim. He crawls back on top of you and apologises to you whilst his hot tears fall on your face, promises you in between sweet kisses on your neck that he will never harm you again.

Gojo Satoru

🩵There you are, walking through the streets together with a man following you with infatuated eagerness as he constantly points at stores and offers to blow all of his money on you yet you only shake your head politely. Your cursed energy isn't oppressing nor is it filling the entire area but Satoru can sense how potent it is as he happens to be in the same area as you. He's currently there to buy something for his students when he senses you and blue eyes instantly race over the crowd to detect the source of it. An exceptionally beautiful man himself, even he can't deny your sheer beauty as he finally finds you. He watches as you point to a store selling candy and the man who is accompanying you eagerly nods his head before he rushes to buy you something. You seem to observe him for a while before you turn your head in an inhuman way and your own glowing eyes meet Satoru's as you have recognised his presence as well and want to let him know about it. Your cursed energy spikes and Satoru wonders if he will have to use his Domain Expansion if you decide to attack but you don't seem to plan on doing so as you crack your head back and wait with folded hands for the man to return.

🩵Something about you is off though, majorly off, so Gojo decides to follow you. You have clearly seduced the man who seems to be on all four for you and Satoru doesn't blame him. You are beautiful and gorgeous as even your cursed energy is tempting but that won't stop Gojo from exorcising you. He is even bold enough to approach you when your victim leaves you alone for a moment to murmur in your ear that you appear quite calm despite the fact that you know that he is following you. You only glance at him briefly and Satoru almost drowns in those enchanting eyes of yours before a loud yelling interrupts him. So lost was he in your gaze that he didn't even notice the man returning. If looks could kill, Gojo would have died thrice now as he can quite literally see the man shaking with rage and for a few seconds Gojo is convinced that he will come for his throat before the man just grabs your hand violently and drags you away. Blue eyes narrow as Satoru waits for a while before he decides to trail after you again. He suddenly has a bad feeling about this and eventually he finds out the apartment where the man apparently lives. He's already standing in front of the door when the commotion suddenly starts.

🩵Loud screams and wails belonging to the man are heard, crying out your name before they are followed by screams of pain and the shattering of a window. That's when Gojo breaks the door open and the scene he sees inside is not pretty. Shards of a broken vase are stuck in your neck and even your now deformed face and the shattered window is painted with red blood from the now dead man who must have hit his head against it until it broke and he died. Yet Gojo can still sense the cursed energy from you, can almost feel it crawling towards his own body. He watches your bloody form alarmed, something warning him that something truly isn't right with even though he can't figure out what it is. When he notices your fingers twitching and your body twisting, he acts quicker than he can even react as he kills you and senses your cursed energy vanishing completely. A few days later he decides to visit the graveyard of the man as he has for some reason not been able to forget about you. When he senses a familiar cursed energy though, he feels his muscles tensing as this shouldn't be possible. Yet there you are, kneeling in front of the graveyard.

🩵He is instantly behind you, throwing a shadow over you as his hands linger over your head as if considering to rip it off yet he doesn't as his eyes narrow in confusion and wariness. You are supposed to be dead. Why are you still alive? You lean your head back to look at him and only greet him politely before you arrange the flowers you have brought with you on the man's grave before standing up again and leaving. The white-haired man stops you though as he grabs your arm so tightly that your bone might break as he asks you how you are still alive. You cascade your gaze very shortly down to the ground, seemingly reminiscing about something, before you meet his intense gaze. He could swear that you almost look a bit sad as you merely tell him that you are eternal. You hold his gaze for too long until he feels threatened to get lost in those eyes again which causes him to let go of you. Blue eyes are glued to your form as you walk gracefully away, his eyes roaming over the shape of your body until he can't sense you anymore. Only then does he feel the urge to follow you die down a bit.

🩵He is almost ashamed of his own lack of self-control when he senses your energy a few weeks later again and the urge to see you again just takes over him. Truth is, he has been thinking about you a lot ever since. Your mysterious words have stuck with him as he has been trying to figure out what you meant and your hypnotising gaze has been following him in his sleep. He is shocked to find you though. Half-naked and with deep cuts littering your skin as you are held down by the neck as the man above you traces a long knife down the curves of your body. Briefly he is reminded of your deformed face and bloody body when he met you for the first time and suddenly rage starts to cloud his vision. A hot wave of jealousy falls over him for the way the man touches you so closely and ire takes hold of him for it looks like he is about ro rape you. Gojo knocks him instantly out, perhaps a bit too strong as blood starts seeping from his head. He quickly offers you the jacket he is wearing to cover your bare upper body with before he grabs your wrist and tells you that you'll come with him. You beg him to call an ambulance for the man before you come with him and Satoru is surprised to hear those words.

🩵He almost doesn't want the man to receive help but then he snaps out of it and gives you his phone to call the ambulance. It is strange that a curse wants to help a human, especially since that human looked like he was about to sexually force himself on you and kill you at the same time. You are indeed very strange and he finds himself looking at you the entire time out of curiosity and since your beauty is very outstanding. He should kill you but he has already tried this and somehow you just appeared again so he has a feeling that it wouldn't work even if he would try again. He doesn't want to kill you for some reason though. Instead he brings you to his home and tells you that he wants to keep you in here until he has figured out what you are and what to do to you. You give him a silent nod before you ask him if there is anything you can do whilst he keeps you here and this is not what Gojo expected to hear. You really are a peculiar curse. He monitors you very closely the following days as you walk around the house to memorise the interior and every room and whe he realises that you seem to have a love for books, he ends up buying you entire shelves worth of them. The giddy grin you give him has his heart pounding.

🩵You are well-read and seem to have existed for quite a long time already as far as Satoru can tell from the knowledge you share with him. As much joy as it gives him to see you happy, he starts feeling jealous that you spend so much time reading books. He wants attention, more attention than you already give him. It just isn't enough. It escalates very quickly when you one day ask him to wait until you have finished this book. Only a few pages are left yet somehow those words make Satoru snap as he snatches the book out of your hands and rips it apart. Blue eyes ablaze with agitation yet also a familiar look to you as he bends down so that he is on eye height with you. Hands grab your own harshly, squeezing them as he tells you in a low voice that he despises if you ignore him. You look into his gorgeous eyes, seemingly unfaced from the way he glowers at you before you carefully free one of your hands and reach tentavively out to touch his face. His Infinity is already deactivated, allowing you to touch his face. He lets out a satisfied hum as one of his hands grabs your one touching his cheeks, blue eyes gleaming as he looks at you.

🩵His Infinity around you is mostly deactivated as he encourages you to touch him as much as he is already touching you. Your touches are warm and addictive and he seemingly can't get enough of them. Often you find yourself trapped beneath him, his arms wrapped around your waist and his head on your chest. You sometimes asks him what he plans to do with you as he is a sorcerer and you are a curse yet he always shuts you up, mostly by kissing you to silence all of your sounds. He does know that technically he should find a way to exorcise you or to at least seal you away yet his whole body is filled with rage when he considers it. He has to keep you a secret from other sorcerers under all means necessary. Not only because of their demands but also because he fears that they would desire you too for your beauty and gentle nature. He notices that you never seem to protest or stop him whenever he becomes very touchy and as sick as that is, Satoru finds himself abusing this. Within a short time he is able to fully indulge in his desires as your nude body is pressed against his own, teasing you here and there as he claims you for himself. He has never seen someone more beautiful than you.

🩵Satoru is almost drunk on you and every word and gesture you do as he is convinced that he would kill anyone who would try to take you away from him. Yet the willingness of yours to let him do whatever he wants with you soon turns into a festering jealousy as he starts wondering if you allowed all the people before him to do everything to you as well. He shouldn't care considering that your curse seems to make people naturally obsessed with you and that he isn't the first and most likely not the last one yet he has already fallen under your spell. His heart threatens to burst as he realises that he will fade whilst you will continue. He won't let anyone else have you after him! You are assaulted by him whilst you are changing clothes, a desperate look in those blue eyes as he begs you to tell him how he can murder you as he tells you about his wish to kill you when his time comes so that no one else will be able to have you after him. When you confess to him that you don't know how you can die, you see the anger and madness flaring up in his eyes as if he is about to attempt to murder you again then and there before he manages to regain his self-control and tells you in a sweet tone that he'll find a way.

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere yuta #yandere okkotsu yuta #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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yutahoes · 2 months ago

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gif by @yutaslaugh I'm a huge fan of your gifs.

A little birthday project for our favorite rockstar and the cause of this blog. Inspired by the songs in his first solo album. Happy Birthday, Yuta Nakamoto. (even if you cannot read this)

characters: demon! incubus! Yuta x human! female! Y/N (feat, little devils! Yu and Uta) word count: 16k words (I'm sorry) genre: smut, fluff, angst summary: He's a demon. She's a human. What makes her so special? warnings: (please bare with me because this is too much) demon theme, hell, prisoner, chains, cage, adoption, mentions of gambling, mentions of killing, mentions of death, arson, self-exits, death, suicidal thoughts, blood, summoning a demon (kind of), description of demons, kissing a stranger, boob sucking, riding, penetrative sex, public sex, giant wings, vivid horny dreams, orgasm, mention of pill, crazy hallucinations, finger sucking, fingering, pussy eating, semi-public sex, standing sex, quickie, nightmares, mentioned blowjob, a little fat shaming, violence, suspected pregnancy, accident, drowning, stabbing

a/n: Since this is loosely based on the songs in the album, please know that I'm pushing some scenes and concepts. The whole fic might not as coherent as I wanted it to be. I'm sorry for the fast-paced plot. Also, the preface of the story is based on the manga titled Hana's Demons of Lust so please don't call me out on some similarities. I swear, I tried. I tried editing this before posting but as usual, there might be some errors. Please just let me know. Feedbacks are highly appreciated, please just comment anything. Thank you for reading this fic. 🥰

PROLOGUE: HOPE

Hell had always been hell.

A hot place full of agony. An evil place full of torment.

There’s certainly no joy without torment.

And Yuta had always despised this place.

It was a scorching hot place filled with ear-piercing screams of tortured souls. Evil souls that doesn’t need mercy.

Souls that had done the worst in mankind.

Like him.

A prisoner, chained and caged, in hell.

There’s really no hope for him.

Hell is such a bad place.

I. LAST SONG

Y/N had always had a very different life.

Even at a young age, she knew that she was adopted. Her adoptive mom would always tell her the story of how she and her husband had a hard time conceiving a child so they asked a psychic for advice. The woman just gave them an address and there was Y/N’s mother, giving birth on the floor, on her own. Growing up, she didn’t know whether to believe in that story. Isn’t it too coincidental? They could just tell her that her birth mother gave her up for adoption instead of concocting an absurd tale like this.

Yet, Y/N had always felt the love of her adoptive parents.

They shower her with guidance and love no daughter could ever imagine. They sent her to some of the prestigious schools, even spending lavish amounts of money just on her. Then it all drained down when the father of the house started getting addicted to gambling.

It was a hard transition in their life.

Instead of attending college abroad, Y/N had to work all these part-time jobs for both her parents who only keep on fighting non-stop. In the morning, she would work in a small coffee shop near their home. During lunch, she would serve tables at a diner. Then at night, she would work until midnight in a local gas station. She might get lucky if she got enough sleep rather than worrying about her father’s whereabouts and her mother’s repeatedly crying.

A lot of times she had thought about ending it all.

If only she died with her birth mother when she was a newborn, this wouldn’t even have happened.

Because obviously, the problem had been her all along.

The couple shouldn’t have spent so much on a stranger living in their home, they might have saved a lot of money to spend lavishly on their own.

Clearly, the problem is her appearing in their life.

Maybe it is truly better to end it all.

But the worst is yet to come.

She was heading to her last part-time job of the day when her phone rang with an unknown number. The second time it called, she answered with a confused hello before a male voice answered, “Are you Ms. Y/N Y/LN?” The girl only hummed in answer, “I’m from the Fire Department. We’re sorry but your house was set on fire.” The shock in her system almost deafened her. What? A fire? But the house was fine when she left that morning. “We’re also sorry, we cannot save your parents.”

It was all so unfair. She’s the one who wants to die. Why would they race her to it? Why would they even hug each other after setting their own house on fire? Her parents must be out of their minds.

They should have waited for her so they could end this misery together.

It was the longest week of her life. She had to hold a funeral ceremony for her parents alone. She had to look for a place to stay. She had to look for money to get by. Even if their property was charred from the fire and her parents died, she cannot receive any insurance since it was their doing in the first place. Since she was adopted, no one in her parents’ relatives wanted to take her in.

Maybe she’s really meant to be alone in life.

Y/N didn’t know how she reached this part of the forest. She was just looking for a place to put her parents’ ashes and maybe move on with her life. How? She still isn’t sure. She isn’t even sure if she wants to move on with her life. But as she walked closer to the dark path of tall trees, she felt her steps heavier.

She doesn’t want to live alone.

Maybe she should just die.

Here.

Where no one could see her.

As she looked around, seated on the dirt, she started thinking of ways to die in this place. This is dark and secluded. Surely, no one would dare to come here. She isn’t even sure why she was here in the first place. If she keeps walking, she’ll surely be lost.

Maybe she could die of hunger. She doesn’t know about the plants and trees around. Maybe she could eat something and wait for it to be poisonous for a quick death.

Or maybe she could die from being eaten by an animal. She wished there was a lion or a bear around that could just ravish her. She knew she didn't have to run, she didn’t even have the energy to do so. But all she could hear were cricket sounds.

Then it hit her, seeing a sharp stone nearby. If she wanted a quick death, she could just kill herself. Like her parents. She didn’t care if she’d be sent to hell because of this. Maybe it was a better place than here.

As she took the sharp stone, she grazed her finger earning a cut that amused her. Blood flowed out of the wound, dropping on the ground. How pathetic.

Before she could take the stone and cut herself once again, she felt the ground shaking. Is it an earthquake? A mountain of dirt started forming in front of her which made her move backward. What the hell is this? Black birds started flying and an ear-piercing screech could be heard. She covered her ear almost immediately but noticed a red light started coming out of the hole from the mountain of dirt.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise as a mist of something black started coming out from the source of the red light. A beast-like image started to form, making her rub her eyes in disbelief. Is she dreaming right now? Is this a hallucination? Eyes started forming on the ghoulish creature: bright, red eyes that scared the hell out of her. “A young maiden,” the image in front of her started saying in that deep voice. She wanted to run but her feet were stuck on the ground so she fell down in fright. “I’ll have my fill of you tonight.”

When she said that she wanted to be eaten by an animal, she meant an animal she could see in the zoo. An animal she’s familiar with. Not this scary-looking creature which seemed like an apparition. Maybe this is her real death. As the image started forming horns, she thought of what it might be. A demon. Maybe she’s already in hell.

A tear fell from her eyes as she stared at the ground. She’s alone and will soon be eaten by this scary yet strange unknown creature. Isn’t this what she wanted all along?

But as she felt her feet getting colder, she started thinking of a birthday party she’d have to attend. She hasn't bought a gift for her co-worker’s four-year-old child. And she insisted that Y/N would come because the kid was rather fond of her.

As the cold feeling crept up on her legs, she remembered a promise she made to one of the patrons in the coffee shop - that she’d always make his coffee. As it reached her waist, she started apologizing to her parents for being a bad daughter and wishing that they were still here with her.

She doesn’t want to die just yet. “Please,” she whispered, feeling half of her body already freezing cold. “I want to live.”

She remembered what her father would always tell her when she felt helpless in any situation, “I’m not alone. I’m not alone.” She kept on chanting.

“Lift your head.” It was a male voice. Closer than the voice from before. She doesn’t know why she was compelled to lift her head and come eye-to-eye with a young man. Big dark eyes stared at her. “Kiss me.”

What? Is he a pervert? She’s here dying in the hands of what seemed like a demon and he wants her to kiss him. “Hurry up so I can save you.”

Again, she didn’t know why she complied with his perverted request and just placed her lips on his. His hands held her cheeks as he slipped a tongue into her mouth, surprising her. Slowly, her body started feeling warm. Is it the kiss? What is happening to her body?

Y/N was breathless when the unknown man broke the kiss. He stood up and then faced the demon-looking creature. “You should be in jail, aren’t you?” The beast claimed making the young man snicker. Y/N was just confused about what was happening. Who is this man? Where did he come from? And why is her body feeling so hot as if running a fever?

In a swift motion, the human started swinging his arm, slicing the beast-like creature. There was gray smoke before another red light could be seen, illuminating the whole darkness. Y/N had to cover her eyes because of the intense light then heard a small thump beside her as the place darkened once again. The young man was lying on the ground, blood gushing on his shoulder. “Oh my God,” she exclaimed as she started panicking. “What should I do?” She should have listened to those first aid classes her dad would always ask her to go.

“Fuck me.” She froze. What? Did she hear him correctly? “Fuck me.”

There was urgency in his voice, as well as despair in his eyes. If he was a pervert, he could just push her on the ground and do what he wanted. Her body felt so hot, her insides tingling. Maybe she is the perverted one. Why is she horny? In the middle of the forest? Because of a man she just met? But he did save her life, right?

With a heavy breath, Y/N leaned in to place a kiss on his lips but his strong arms held her waist to pull her closer.

Just for this moment, she doesn’t want to feel so alone.

II. OFF THE MASK

It’s crazy. Somehow Yuta finds himself getting crazy.

And it isn't the good kind.

Her mouth was hot, saliva like a drug pulling him in. As her tongue wrestled with his, he could feel her warm fingertips against the cold skin inside his ripped sweater. Everywhere she touched felt so hot, burning. But maybe this was the desire he had missed all these years. Her lips trailed on his jaw, south to his neck. Her fingers started pulling his shirt, removing it from his body, exposing his naked torso in the open air. She kept on pressing butterfly kisses on his exposed skin, lightly sucking, earning purple marks on his skin.

He wanted to fuck her earlier, eager to regain some of his power back. But now, it feels like she needs him more than he needs her. Yuta removed her shirt and then her brassiere, throwing it to the ground. His mouth came in contact with her breasts, tongue licking her nipples which made the girl moan. Those sweet moans.

He missed this feeling. To be able to give a woman pleasure.

The girl kept on grinding her hips on his arousal. “Please, fuck me.”

And Yuta was weak.

Clothes were easily discarded on the ground. The woman’s pleas repeatedly echoed on the empty night. The sweet scent of her arousal made Yuta drunk in his own sense of arousal. “Please, I need you.” But he needs her more. She kept on riding him, her fingernails digging against his skin. A pleasurable pain. He was sure she wasn’t a virgin, evidence was the way she rolled her hips to push him deeper inside her. Yet Yuta can’t help but be too pleased with how her tight pussy could clench on his girth. His hands grabbed her breasts, rubbing her nipples earning loud mewls from her. His mouth would keep on kissing her lips and then suck the skin of her neck when he feels like she can’t breathe. She’s truly an addicting taste.

The taste of despair and hope. Yuta could easily taste those emotions in the girl in his arms. How long was it since he last felt this liberating feeling? Her melodious voice moaning for him to go deeper, her sweet scent that overwhelms his senses, her warm skin in contrast to the chilling cold, and the tight feeling of her pussy gripping his cock makes him crazy.

The moment Yuta smelled the sweet maiden’s blood, he knew something stirred inside him. Feeling her cumming for the third time, he realized what it was. She unleashed the lust demon inside him.

His inner incubus.

And an incubus needs sex, amazing sex, to regain their power. To regain their strength.

“Fuck me some more,” The girl kept on whispering in her pleasured state. Eyes almost rolling on the back of her head, lips agape. Yuta had to deliver. What kind of an incubus would he be if he left this girl wanting more? As he drilled his cock deeper into her, he started recalling the last time he had this feeling.

It’s been years. With that person.

All demons had their own sins. However, being the son of one of the greatest demons in hell, Yuta had already exhibited all sins presented to a demon even at a young age. Being an envious demon, his father was scared of the lengths his son could potentially go to. That and the fact that he made a mortal sin against humans earned him a place in the pits of hell.

For years, Yuta had been chained and caged in agony for a mistake he never wanted, he never meant to do.

A crazy demon. That was what he would hear when they talked about him. A criminal who made a grave mistake in the demon world.

And he already accepted his fate. Maybe this is just his purpose. Maybe this is what he was meant to do. Maybe this was his end.

He had lost all his hope. As well as his power.

Left in the pits of hell, bound by chains and caged.

Not until a sweet scent of blood woke him up.

Yuta kissed the maiden’s lips, tongue slipping past her mouth as he tasted all he could from her. Something about her is addicting. Invigorating.

After being locked in hell for years, Yuta didn’t know if he had the strength to fight a demon. Especially a flesh-eating one. They’re normally more powerful and with his diminishing skills, he knew he could not save this girl. Yet when her lips made contact with him, he felt recharged. More powerful.

She isn’t an ordinary girl, no doubt. If he wanted to survive the human world, he needed her. Yuta needs to recharge as much as he can.

The girl kept on panting, begging for his touch. The scent of her arousal didn’t leave his senses even if he had already felt her orgasm a few times. If possible, it only heightened. How far can this girl go? Because he could go on, even if the sun starts rising. Yet he had to remind himself that she was a mere human. He might just kill her. And with the special scent she possessed, she couldn’t bear doing that.

If he needs to survive in the human world, he’ll definitely need her.

He probably pushed her too hard that she’s now passed out on the ground. Yuta stared at the tip of his fingers. This is probably enough to sustain him for weeks. His huge black wings appeared making him smile. True, he’s a demon but he cannot just leave her alone in this place especially if she’s this special. Her scent could easily attract other demons and he cannot just risk that.

Yuta never believed in the entity opposite them. He was even startled when she announced a heavenly being’s name earlier but he decided to shrug it off. It’s not like he would disintegrate in the presence of that being. Gently placing her on the bed while she’s sleeping soundly, he might just believe that angels do exist. How can this measly human look so calm and beautiful?

This is crazy.

He had definitely gone crazy.

The man snapped his fingers as two winged figures started appearing on the foot of the bed. “Yu. Uta.” Yuta called. “I’ll leave her to the two of you. Protect her at all costs.”

“Yes, master.” The two younger devils saluted at the older one.

He held her cheeks, placing a soft kiss on her agape lips. “I’ll see you soon,” he whispered, taking one last look at her. “Y/N.”

III. SAVE YOU

“You feel amazing, Y/N.” The toned man started whispering as he was balls deep inside her. She could feel his whole length deep inside her, earning repeated screams and moans from her. “Now, cum in my cock.” He didn’t need to say it twice as she let go.

Then there’s a knock on the door.

Y/N woke up, sweating hard at the intense dream she had. Her sheets were wet with her orgasm and sweat. That was all a dream? How intense. How vivid. Another knock made her annoyed as she stood up to answer the door.

It feels weird, all of a sudden.

What is this place? This isn’t the house where she lived with her parents. Not a friend’s house. It feels foreign. Is she even in the right place? Was it a one-night stand? There was an incessant knock on the door but she surveyed the whole living room of the house where she just woke up. There are pictures of her, as well as her parents. On one side of the room was a small table with two urns and fresh flowers. Is this her place?

The knock on the door continued and she opened it to see what the commotion was about. Two kids, a boy and a girl, were staring at her with their wide round eyes. “Took you so long to answer the door,” the younger girl in a pink hoodie claimed as she entered the door. The young boy in a gray hoodie handed her a brown paper bag.

Wait, who are these kids?

“Noona, you’ll be late for your job.” The male claimed as he sat on the couch and opened the television. “We’ll take care of your place. Go to your job.”

Y/N lightly glanced at the clock and saw that she only had an hour for work.

It feels bizarre. Her feet knew where to go but her eyes were so unfamiliar with the surroundings that she felt as if she was still dreaming. Wait, is she still in a dream? The girl had to try and pinch her arm but it hurt. This must be real. Yet, she feels so weird.

“I’m glad you’re back,” her co-worker from the coffee shop claimed. She placed her bag in the cabinet and then put on her apron before checking on what she should do. The usual customers came, as well as the old man who kept on ordering drinks from her. It was a peaceful shift not until the manager came to her and tapped her shoulder, “You’re doing well. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

The walk to her next job was a familiar one. Maybe it was the shock she had after the death of her parents that she felt weird earlier. Maybe she’s still unsure of the course of her life, that's why she’s feeling rather odd. Her co-worker from the diner had been excitedly telling her about the preparations for her daughter’s birthday party and Y/N just remembered that she doesn’t have any gift for her yet. “You should bring Yu and Uta to the party. I’m sure they would love the bubble show.” The other commented that confused her.

“Yu? Uta?”

The girl laughed as if she was joking. “Y/N, they’re the kids you usually bring here.” She cleared up and then stared at her worryingly. “Are you alright? Do you need to rest?”

She shook her head. This feels so bizarre. What the hell is happening to her?

“Maybe it’s the effect of the medicine you’re taking,” one of her co-workers from the gasoline station claimed as she shared the weird feeling creeping up on her since the early morning. “You’re still taking them right?” You blinked at that. Were you? “You need it, Y/N. That was such a traumatic event in your life.” She noted that made her nod. She doesn’t need to spell it out for her but somehow she understood it so well. “Do you want to talk to a psychiatrist I know?”

Y/N shook her head. That was the last thing on her mind - to think that she was crazy in the head.

The moment she came home, the television was still playing as the two kids slept on the couch. What are they still doing here? She lightly shook them to wake up but only the male opened his eyes, greeting her with a “Welcome home, noona”.

“What are you still doing here?” She asked, closing the television. Did they stay here the whole day? Is there food in her house? Have they eaten something? “Should I call your parents?”

The younger girl stirred in her sleep, hugging the boy. “Master is still on a trip, he won't come home just yet.” She whispered then snored. Master? What was that term? Are they slaves? What about their parents? Aren’t they worried for them?

Y/N had to give the boy a confused look, “Sorry noona.” He claimed with a toothed smile. She noticed how his teeth had little fangs on them. How adorable. “Can Uta and I stay here tonight? We won’t bother you, I promise.”

Uta? The young girl is Uta? So this young boy’s name is Yu? She cannot just leave them outside this late at night, right? She only nodded, telling them to just sleep in her room. Fortunately, she changed the sheets early that morning so the kids slept soundly on her bed. What are these two doing here? Why can’t she remember them? Is it really the medicine’s fault?

After drinking a pill, she decided to just sleep on the couch. But first, she had to check if she could make breakfast for the kids tomorrow. Although she could call child services on their parents, she doesn’t want to be the one accused of neglecting the kids. The fridge was fully stocked, which surprised her. She knew how to cook but she surely wouldn’t buy this much on grocery runs.

Is she only staying at Yu and Uta’s family house? And who are their parents?

It was pitch dark but Y/N could make up the silhouette of a man approaching her on the couch. The girl’s instinct is to shout and alert the neighbors that someone is in their home but her voice cannot come out of her lips. As the man approached, she could smell him. His muscular scent filled her nose, arousing all the system in Y/N’s body. The girl’s body felt hot as if lava started flowing in her veins instead of blood. Her nether regions felt wet. Tingly.

“Naughty, Y/N.” The man teased in his low erotic voice before leaning in close to whisper in her ear, “I can smell your arousal for me.”

“Please,” she moaned, hands reaching out for the man. “I need you.” From the darkness, she could see a smirk on his face before his hand cupped her clothed pussy and started rubbing her throbbing wetness. “Please.” One hand slipped inside her pajama pants to make contact with her clit, rubbing it with his thumb. The other hand pushed a thumb inside her mouth to prevent her from making a sound.

Y/N sucked his thumb as the man slipped his middle finger inside her core. A sound came out from her throat. “You don’t want to wake up the kids, right?” He whispered, removing his thumb from her mouth and replacing it with two fingers. Another finger slipped into her core, making her body squirm. She held the headrest of the couch, another hand clawing at the man’s arm playing with her pussy.

It feels good. So fucking good.

The man found the spot pushing her off the edge. Y/N’s toes started curling in pleasure, head lolling back that his fingers inside her mouth almost gagged her. The girl started wrapping both her hands on the man’s wrist with his fingers on her mouth. Her tongue lapped his two fingers, gently sucking. Yet, she doesn’t want anything to stop. She’s close to her orgasm. She wanted this man to give her that pleasure.

Y/N jerked her hips as if begging the man to push his fingers deeper inside her. She could feel him curling his fingers in her core, scissoring his fingers for intense pleasure. The wave of orgasm rippled against her skin, her body trembling at how intense it was.

Then she opened her eyes, panting loudly as sweat beads appeared on her forehead. What the hell? That was a dream? Why is she so horny lately? And what was that wet dream? Is she a teenager? Why is it so vivid? Why does it feel so real? And why is she so wet as if she did have an orgasm?

Because of a dream. Really?

Maybe she’s too sex-starved lately.

Y/N would always cook breakfast for the kids, even leaving lunch or small snacks for them. It had been days that the kids had become a part of her routine. She found out that they are twins but Yu, the younger boy, is the older one. A very cool kid who loves nothing but eating. Uta, the younger sister, was a very cheerful kid who hated being teased by her brother and kept on munching as if her life depended on it. They never speak anything about their family or if they go to school. They kept on playing all day, watching television, and just eating.

But one day, when she came home, with doughnuts for the kids, they were nowhere to be seen. Maybe their parents had taken them already. But they should have told her. Their parents should have thanked her for taking care of the kids.

The next day had been typical. Routinary. She just wanted to go home and rest her body. It’s been nights that she had dreamt of a man giving her intense pleasure and it’s been taking a huge toll on her. She’s tired yet she’s very aroused. She was so horny because of the dream that she feared she might just fuck the first man who will show her kindness tonight. A scary thought that made her shiver as she walked home. She should stop these thoughts. She’s walking alone for crying out loud.

A shiver ran up her spine. An eerie feeling came that someone was following her. Cautiously, she stopped to tie her shoelaces tighter. If he’s not following her, he could walk ahead of her. But the person stopped as well. He’s obviously following her. Shit, she does attract all these negative thoughts. From a closed shop window, she saw an image of a tall man but with red eyes and a long tongue slithering out of his lips.

What the hell was that?

It was a wrong turn. She didn’t know that the usual shortcut she walked to get home would be closed tonight. She was stuck in a dead end. Before she could turn back to the lighted street, a huge shadow approached her. Y/N had to walk backward to avoid the man turning her way. A smirk can be seen on his face, red eyes glaring at her. “You smell so good,” He licked his lips with his snake-like tongue. “You’ll probably taste as good.”

The man grabbed her arm, fingers digging into her flesh and creating half-moon cuts that seeped blood. “Even your blood smells so good.”

“No!” she shouted, squirming to get out of his hold. “Let me go. I’ll call the police.” A menacing laugh escaped his lips. “Please, don’t do this.” Tears started stinging her eyes in despair. No one is going to save her even if she screams, it’s so late in the night. And didn’t she just wish to be fucked earlier? Maybe this is her karma for thinking of those nasty things. “Please,” she whispered, tears springing from her eyes. “Save me.”

“Noona!” she heard someone call as she fell with a loud thud. From her tear-stained eyes, she saw Yu biting the man’s leg with his little fangs. Quickly, the man pulled his gray hoodie and threw the young kid on a nearby wall. Uta came, skin red in anger while shouting “Do not hurt my brother!” She scratched the man’s arms using her long nails but like her brother, she was immediately thrown to the ground.

A shadow appeared on the floor, lifting both the kids’ bodies. “So you were the minions?” The man asked, which made Y/N startled. Minions? And what is happening? “Where is your master? Did he abandon you, little devils?”

What? Y/N weakly stood up, her ankle hurting because of the sudden fall earlier. “Don’t hurt them.” She shouted but the two kids were just gasping for air as if they were being choked. Yet Y/N can only see their body wrapped in a shadow and floating.

The man’s red eyes stared back at her, “Let me indulge in your sweetness, human.” What the hell is happening?

Y/N tried to move back but her ankle hurt so much that she started limping. Her back could feel the wall before the man was kicked on the head from behind. She saw the shadow gone as the two kids fell down to the ground. At the speed that she could do with her sprained ankle, she walked to both of them asking them if they were alright. Both their eyes focused on the guy towering above the man who hurt them, stepping on the other’s crotch. “What is a lust demon doing here in the human world?” The man standing asked then stepped harder making the man lying on the floor grunting in pain.

“You’re also a lust demon…”

In a quick motion, the man standing leaned in to hold the lying man’s neck and carried him while choking him. “Do you really think we’re the same?” The man being choked started coughing, blood coming out of its mouth. “You hurt Yu and Uta.” He claimed, “And you have some guts thinking that you can have this girl,” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion at that statement. “She’s mine.” He growled before throwing the guy on the nearby wall.

What the hell is happening? Is this a dream? Is this a hallucination? It’s the medicine, isn’t it? Or worse, has she finally gone mad? The man swung his arm, slicing the other guy that red light started illuminating from his body.

Wait a minute, she had witnessed it before. At the forest. With the beast-looking shadow. But that was a dream.

Right?

The man turned around to face her and she blinked in fright. Both kids were behind him now, apologizing to him which startled her. Do the kids know him? Is he the master they were talking about? Then, Yu and Uta aren’t human? A hand was extended to her but she refused to take it. “What are you?” She asked in terror, voice shaking. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“After saving you, you’re begging me to not hurt you?”

“Master!” Yu shouted. “I could just erase her memory like the last time.” Erase what? Y/N stared at the young boy then at the older man standing next to him.

“No,” Y/N shouted, standing up abruptly which made her dizzy all of a sudden. “Do not touch me.” Uta stepped forward to approach her but she stopped her as well, “Even the two of you.” The young girl pouted. “What are you? What the hell are you?” She asked then covered her body with her arms, “Are you going to hurt me?” Tears fell from her eyes, “Please don’t.”

The man had a stoic look on his face before he spoke up, “Yu. Uta. You could go first.” The two kids bowed and then muttered in unison, “Yes, master.” Y/N regretted it the moment the only familiar faces were gone. But how? Where did they go? The man turned to her and she was momentarily stunned. Now that she was staring, he looked really handsome. Bright dark big eyes as if they were sparkling boba, fair skin, a high bridge nose, and red juicy lips. Why is he so attractive? Is he human?

He lent a hand, palm up, for her to take but she shook her head. “I saved your life twice, don’t you trust me enough?” So that time in the forest wasn’t a dream? And here he is, saving her once again? But why? All the questions on her mind were clouding her thoughts that she took his hand. If she wants answers, she should come to this person. He pulled her close, placing both her hands around his neck. “We’re going to fly. You’re not scared of heights, aren’t you?”

“What?” Huge dark wings appeared on his back as she scooped her in his arms. Y/N could feel the cold breeze before seeing the tops of the high-rise buildings. Was she tripping? She’s really in the air. They are flying. “Wait, wait. Don’t drop me.” She whispered in panic.

“It’s alright. It’s alright. I won’t let you fall.” he whispered in a calm voice. “You asked what I am and I’m just showing it to you.”

The girl wrapped her arms around his neck tight, eyes focused on the black wings moving across the wind. “Are you an angel?”

A hearty laugh escaped the man’s lips that startled Y/N. He’s truly handsome. She shouldn’t have doubted those religious folks when they stated that angels look very heavenly. “Quite the contrary.” He’s not an angel? But he saved her twice. Contrary? Then a demon?

“Why me?” She whispered just as a realization came. “Are you here to kill me and bring me to hell?”

The man’s feet landed on the balcony of her house, large wings disappearing almost immediately. He gently put her down, making sure that she could stand although her ankle was sprained very badly. “Because from now on, you’re mine.” Her eyes widened in surprise. She heard the same words earlier but it clearly didn’t mean anything earlier.

Right?

“I’ll save you, no matter if I live or die, Y/N.”

IV. BAD EUPHORIA

This shouldn’t happen.

Maybe Yuta had really become crazy. He should have learned from his past mistakes. This would only bring him back to the same place where he was before. Maybe it was better that he rot in person instead of this creeping feeling inside him.

“Your little sunglasses are so cute, Yu.” Y/N complimented, making the little devil smile coolly. The twins should know that showing your demon self to a human is illegal. But what does he know? He even flew her in the air. Besides, they are demons. Evil creatures. They're meant to break the rules. “These little pigtails are so adorable, Uta.” She squealed, making the younger girl giggle.

She should be scared of them. They could hurt her now that she knows a lot. Why did Yuta have to promise those things to her? He should have killed her the first time instead of keeping her even if she tasted so sweet. Even if she smelled so good. How pathetic of him.

“So these are your demon forms?” The twins nodded, flying around her with their little wings. “And you have specific powers?”

Yu nodded, “I can erase memories.”

“And I can heal anything.” Uta continued, sounding proud of herself. The girl glanced at the healed wound on her arm and then her ankle. “It’s pretty cool, isn’t it?”

The girl had to scrunch her nose, nodding at the younger girl. Yuta squinted his eyes at that. What was that? Is she showing affection to the demons? How weird. And why are the twins liking her attention so much? He shouldn’t have left them with her. “And that man is your…” She squinted her eyes before continuing, “Father?”

Yuta glared at the younger boy who chuckled nervously. He shouldn’t have taken the twins in his care. But what could he do if this was the only thing he could do seeing two wide-eyed kids entering the demon world? Besides, Yu and Uta had been great entertainment and companions to him when he was still chained back there. Now that they have the taste of the human world, he probably cannot bring those two back to hell. Even he, an older demon, doesn’t want to return to that place.

“Mister,” she called, which made Yuta look at Y/N. “Are you planning to kick me out of your house?”

“And where would you go?” The girl shrugged, “Didn’t I tell you that I should always see you? The demons had shown a liking to your scent.” Y/N rolled her eyes which annoyed Yuta. He did explain earlier that the smell of her blood had awakened some demons from hell and now, they’re roaming the human world just to look for her. If she wanted to stay alive, he should keep a close eye on her. It was a simple concept yet she had a hard time grasping that fact. How stupid. Humans are so stupid.

“And master needs you to regain his power,” Uta claimed in a high-pitched voice that made Yuta surprised. Why would she say that? Yu stopped his sister and seeing the glare Yuta had given them, the two little devils disappeared. This is getting really annoying.

“You need me to regain your power?” Yuta stood up from his chair and then shook his head, walking to the fridge and taking a bottle of water. “Do you want me to do something to help you regain your power?” He had to grasp the bottle rather tightly.

Is she seriously asking that question?

Maybe Yu’s powers had evolved so much that she doesn’t remember what they did in the forest. Yuta smiled, he knew that kid would do wonders in the future. “Mister,” she called once again that made him hiss, “Should I do…” When he turned around to face her, she was standing behind him. Her scent is stronger now that she’s closer. Yuta could easily hold her by the waist and kiss her. “...something for you?” She asked in a soft voice, eyes staring at his lips.

This is fucking dangerous. He might just hurt her again and the twins aren’t here to erase her memory or heal her. Yuta leaned in, “I’m not interested in the well-behaved you, baby.” The girl puffed her cheeks, squinting her eyes at him.

“I’m not flirting with you, stupid.” Yuta chuckled as she stomped off inside the room, closing the door with a loud thud.

How cute.

Even if he was lying on the couch and she was sleeping in the room, with the door locked shut, Yuta could smell the scent of her arousal. It was way stronger than earlier that bothered him. If this continues on, another demon could smell her and this will be trouble once again. This was his fault. She did awaken something inside him but he didn't need to awaken her sexual desires.

He should have stopped that night in the forest.

Like the other nights, he approached her in her own wet dream. A mirage that only he can create. She was squirming in bed, panting hard while sweating. Her shirt was pushed up to reveal her breasts. A wet spot was visible on the material of her shorts.

Yuta clenched his fist tight. He cannot do this to her once again. And if this continues, he might just make the same mistake he made. He shook his head, he wouldn’t do it to her.

“Please,” she whispered, heavy breaths coming out of her agape lips. But he’s a demon and there are only some temptations that he can resist. Obviously one of them isn't her. Even if her eyes were closed, tears were streaming down her face. She might be in pain. And who is he to deny her the cure she needed? “Please, fuck me.”

He held her cheek. “Ssh, my angel.” He mumbled as if she could hear him. “I’ll make you feel real good, hmm?” Yuta didn’t waste time to pull down her shorts, revealing her sopping cunt. She smelled so divine, so erotic. He could feel his body getting energized just from smelling her. How perverted can he actually get? Truly, a lust demon.

He leaned down to give a quick kiss on her pubic bone, a moan escaping her lips. All his inhibitions are gone. The self-control he had been keeping to himself was gone when his lips came in contact with her clit. Her addicting taste in his lips only made him want her more. He slipped his tongue inside her core, the taste of her arousal making him dizzy in lust. Her body kept on moving so Yuta had to hold both her legs, parting them, to have easier access.

Y/N’s moans filled the room, echoing through the walls, which only heightened his want to pleasure this girl. By now, Yuta knows her pleasure spots. The exact spot in her core that makes her let go. With the tip of his tongue, he started hitting that spot earning muffled cries from her. She’s close, he could feel it. Yuta’s tongue kept on abusing her pussy, making sure that he could explore every inch of her.

And it was the most rewarding feeling when she released everything. Yuta made sure to lap everything that she could release, not missing a single drop of her sweetness.

The guy sat on the foot of the bed, just watching her calm sleeping face. She’s very beautiful. And Yuta knew that he couldn’t fall with these beautiful things. That would be his literal downfall for sure. Yet he had felt like he had become a possessive man, not wanting to share her with anyone. He should start putting scent blockers on her so a demon wouldn’t chase after her.

But putting scent blockers on her meant being a prisoner in her chains. A mistake he had made a long time ago and regretted big time.

He shouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

“They said bittersweet is life but it’s not that sweet, honestly it’s bitter.,” Yuta claimed, holding his cup of coffee. “Like this coffee.”

The girl rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Why can’t you just ask for cream and sugar like a normal person?” She asked, putting down the jar of cream and sugar above the table with a loud sound.

“Because master is not a normal person,” Yu claimed, drinking his chocolate milkshake.

Uta was munching on her waffles when she said in a mouth filled with food, “Shouldn’t we call him dad now?” The girl giggled, wiping the younger girl’s mouth. To avoid some questions, Y/N forced him to introduce himself as Yu and Uta’s dad. Surprisingly, her co-workers believed that lie. Yuta shook his head, humans truly are gullible. “Can I order some more waffles?”

Y/N smiled. “Of course, baby girl.” She claimed while rubbing the younger girl’s cheek. “Do you want anything else, Yu?” She asked softly as the younger boy asked for the same meal as his sister. “And you?” she faced Yuta with an uninterested look that annoyed him. Where is her happy caring tone? Why is she so cold when facing him?

“Nothing else.” She rolled her eyes before leaving to the counter where her co-workers were looking at her and then at him with wide smiles on their faces. Yuta didn’t know what they were talking about but she made a disgusted face while shaking her head after looking at him.

How adorable.

Maybe it was her time of the month. But Yuta shrugged it off, she wasn’t bleeding when he ate her out last night. Did it start today perhaps? But she clearly showed her distaste at him. Is that normal? A normal female reaction, perhaps?

Even at the diner, she kept on rolling her eyes at him while showing great gentleness to the two kids. Once again, she introduced him to her co-workers as the twins’ dad and he even earned an invite to a child’s birthday party. Yu and Uta both had a blast with their non-stop eating, making the older demon amused. They surely are gluttonous demons.

Y/N was just pacing around doing her job, making Yuta watch her every move. She would smile at every customer, making sure to give them her utmost service. Now he understood it when Yu reported that she’s hardworking. A male co-worker called for her and she obediently walked to where he was. He showed her a spoon with something white and the girl immediately parted her lips to taste what was on the spoon. She nodded, making the man smile warmly at her. He swiped a thumb on her bottom lip before licking the cream on his finger which made her giggle.

What the hell was that? Is she flirting with that co-worker? A boyfriend? But the twins never mentioned a male companion in their reports. Who the hell was that?

The girl was busy serving on the tables when a young kid wearing roller skates started zooming in the middle of the diner. He zoomed past Y/N who almost fell if not for Yuta holding her waist and pulling her to sit on his lap. “Are you alright?” He realized how near she was now that she was seated on his lap and it didn’t help that he was feeling something cold seeping on his shirt.

“Oh shit,” she cursed, standing up immediately and then wiping the dark liquid with a towel. She stopped when she felt his abdomen before staring at his face with a lot of surprise in her eyes. Y/N cleared her throat before heading south to wipe his leg. Slowly, Yuta could start smelling her sweet scent. She’s getting aroused. And maybe it was because she was too close that his senses were so stimulated, he wanted to reach out to her and fuck her mercilessly in this diner.

Her co-worker muttered an 'Oh My God' at the mess that happened as Y/N apologized. She was instructed to bring Yuta to the staff room since there was an extra change of clothes that he could wear, even volunteering to look after the twins as they finished their meal. She should have declined. Doesn’t she know that he and her inside a confined space is dangerous? And with his evil dirty thoughts and her emanating sweet scent, he could just lose himself.

Yuta was right. The staff room was located at a somehow secluded part of the diner and too small to stop his raging dirty thoughts. He quickly removed the shirt that was getting slowly drenched with the cola as the girl reached for the extra clothes on the upper cabinet. When she turned around, her eyes just widened while staring straight at his naked torso. The scent was now heightened along with her biting her bottom lip. With a heavy breath, she handed the shirt and then turned around, reaching down to look for drawers on the bottom layer. The simple action created a small contact between their bodies, making Yuta hiss.

“Y/N, you could just ask.” The girl turned to him in confusion. Yuta stepped forward and she stepped back, “I can smell your arousal.”

“What?” Her eyes widened in surprise which made Yuta smirk. She’s like a deer caught in headlights. “I’m not…”

Yuta moved another step forward that their bodies were almost touching. He grabbed her wrist, placing her hand on his torso. Her cold fingers trailed to his chest down to his abdomen. “You’re probably lacking excitement, right?” Her fingers moved to the waistband of his jeans then back to his abdomen. “Do you already know the ending, Y/N?” Yuta whispered in her ear. A heavy breath as he takes in her lovely aroused scent. He guided her hand to the front of his jeans, “A little teaser.”

The girl pulled him closer, placing her lips on his. It was an invigorating feeling, a sign that he should stop himself and just let go. “Mister…” she called in her erotic voice.

“Yuta,” he immediately corrected. “Call me Yuta.”

“Yuta.” The name came off as a whimper, a sexy moan that he wanted to repeat. “Yuta, please.”

He didn’t care if the name wasn’t his anymore, as long as it kept coming out of her lips. Yuta turned her around, pulling her waist closer to him as she hiked her skirt up. “Yes, baby. I only want my name coming out of your lips.”

“Yuta.” Fuck. This is bad. But why is he so elated? How could something this fucking good be considered bad? “Yuta,” Y/N called once again which made Yuta hiss.

This will surely be his downfall.

V. PRISONER

Y/N felt as if she had done something morally and ethically wrong.

Maybe she’s a criminal who deserves to be in jail. A prisoner.

She couldn’t even look at her co-workers the moment she left the staff room. She can’t even look at both Yu and Uta even if she knew that Yuta isn’t their father. Even looking at Yuta’s eyes was very difficult for her and it’s not like his cock didn’t keep ramming on her earlier.

His cold hand was grabbing her breast, pinching her nipples using his fingers. The other hand kept rubbing her clit as he kept thrusting into her from behind. His breathing was warm against her ear as she could hear him panting, gently moaning in his low voice. It was so hot.

All the horny nights were easily forgotten because of this quick sexual session. And with what she considers a stranger whom she just found out his name? How is she suddenly so reckless and rebellious?

Y/N started fixing her skirt but Yuta wrapped his arms around her from behind, fixing the buttons of her blouse. “Skip your gasoline gig,” he whispered, which made her confused. What? “I’m going to ask the twins to leave so we can continue this at home. I’ll wait for you.”

What the hell?

How could Y/N find a horny guy who gives amazing pleasure? As she was walking home, she started realizing why. He did claim that he’s a lust demon, an incubus. That means it was his sin, right? So he must be really a horny demon. But what else can he do during sex? Does he have an intense stamina that could kill her? Can he shapeshift? Maybe grow a tentacles or grow his cock bigger? She lightly giggled at the thought. Why is she getting excited all of a sudden? This is dangerous. She’s getting very wet at the thought.

Before she could put the key to the doorknob, the door opened. She expected Yu to greet her and Uta, being the cooler among the twins, would just be munching something while staring at the television. But to her surprise, Yuta opened the door without any clothes on. Immediately, she came in the door and closed it behind her. “Are you crazy?” She asked, “What if the neighbors see you?”

“I could smell you coming.”

He pulled the girl closer, letting her fingers trail on his broad shoulder. “And the kids?”

Yuta placed a wet kiss on her neck, “I sent them far away to do something.” The girl giggled which was replaced by a small squeal when the man scooped her up in his arms. “I hope you’re ready for me.” Y/N grinned. She’s more than ready for him.

He took his time kissing her lips, tongue slipping past her lips and into her mouth. Y/N could only moan at that. His tongue game was so amazing that she could easily imagine herself in an intense orgasm if he eats her out. His fingers slowly undo the button of her blouse, kissing the skin getting exposed. Losing her patience, she discarded her bra while he left supple kiss marks on her abdomen.

Yuta’s lips were quickly on her exposed breast, kissing the underside before sucking the nipple. His tongue played with the little nub as his fingers rubbed the other. Thread of curses and moans kept coming out of her lips. “Oh My God, Yuta.” She could feel him chuckling at that.

Y/N had to grab his hair, raising his head to look at her. “Please, put it inside me.” He gave her a smile. A warm smile that made her swoon. God, he is so attractive. She might just orgasm if she keeps staring at him.

Yuta pushed up her skirt and pulled down her underwear. Licking his lips at the sight of her wetness. He held his cock, lightly rubbing the tip on her pussy lips that made Y/N raise her hip. The guy’s chuckle can be heard before he pushes himself into her. The girl screamed, fingers digging into Yuta’s back at how big he was. Fuck, he’s filling her up. And when Yuta placed a pillow under her hips, she could see the outline of his cock on her abdomen.

It was a surreal feeling. It felt foreign yet familiar at the same time. Maybe Y/N is getting crazy. Too cock crazy. She had never had a cock this good. And she knew it would be hard to find another, specifically a human, who would fuck her up this good. His thrusts were hard, deep, and rhythmic at a pace that made her lose her mind. She can even feel his balls hitting her ass cheeks. Yuta is too good at this. It’s making her crazy.

She had never cummed that much in her life. Even her vivid dreams weren’t as good as the real thing. The sheets were wet because of her sweat and juice but she refused to move, her body feeling so sore from the intense sex she just received.

That was really amazing. He’s undoubtedly a lust demon.

But how real are demons? Isn’t that just something that the religious people made up to distinguish good from evil? And how evil could they be?

“Yuta,” she called while lying next to him in bed. Y/N knew that she shouldn’t be doing this pillow talk with him but they’re not even cuddling. It’s just pure lust between them, no strings attached. Yet she needed some answers. The man hummed, facing to look at her. She rolled on her stomach, “You said I’ll be in danger if I disappear from your sight because the demons will come for me, right?” The man nonchalantly nodded. “Is there any way to stop that?”

She could feel Yuta stiffen at that question. Did he not expect that? But that isn’t the normal conversation one has after intense sex. From his reaction, she gathered that there must be something that could stop this. “What is it?” she asked, gently rising from the bed to fully look at him. “Can I do something?”

“A contract.” She raised an eyebrow at that. What contract? “A binding contract between a demon and human.” Y/N sat up to signal that she was interested which made Yuta hiss in annoyance. “You should understand that the contract would chain us to each other. So no, Y/N.”

“What?” The girl asked in confusion. “But it was you who brought the contract up and it doesn’t seem that hard.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at his lack of response. “Besides, I’m not that possessive. Even if we’re chained to each other, I’ll still let you wander alone.” Yuta visibly stiffened at those words that confused her. Maybe it was a touchy subject for him. She should probably stop.

“I don’t trust your words,” Yuta whispered.

Y/N huffed at that. “I’m not a perfect person but I’m also not an evil person. Why don’t you believe me?” She revolted. “Why don’t you want to do the binding contract with me? Tell me what is wrong with me?”

Yuta had to roll over to face her body, parting her legs that confused her. “Nothing, Y/N,” he claimed before placing a soft kiss on her pussy lips. “But I won’t do it with you.”

The girl had to cover her mouth to prevent the scream coming out of her lips when he pushed a tongue between her moist pussy folds. The neighbors had already obviously heard her voice, they didn't need to know that they weren’t done with the sexual action yet. “Yuta,” she moaned. “Have you ever been in a contract with someone before?” He only answered with a flick of the tongue in her most sensitive spot.

“You’re a poison, Yuta. I shouldn’t have trusted you.” The female voice shouted, making the demon’s heart bleed. “For my last wish, let me go."

"Let me leave this world.”

He shouldn’t have trusted her words. He shouldn’t have believed that she wasn’t an evil person. What has she done to her?

A binding contract has its pros and cons. True, he can save the person he cares for. But a loose chain is still a chain. And chains tend to hurt in the long run. A terribly twisted love’s prison.

“Twins?” Yuta called, towering above two little cages to look for both Yu and Uta. It confused him that they weren't here. This is the only place they could go. A safe place for his little devils. Not too hot and not too cold for their comfort.

He had always thought that hell was always so burning hot, tormenting people who came here. Evil people. He had always stayed here all his life so he wouldn’t know the difference.

The only coldness in this scorching world was the cage he was locked in for years. The cuffs were stone cold against his skin, exhausting all his energy. As he brushed his fingers on the steel bars, he smiled to himself.

He remembered tiring himself the first few months. “I’m not a criminal!” he shouted. “Set me free!” A statement he knew wasn’t true. He is a criminal and he deserves to be in this prison, bound with chains. He is a dangerous man.

And he might be doing it again.

He started walking some more, spotting the two winged little devils with someone very familiar. He wished he would never bump into him again. Hell is a huge place for the two of them to see each other. But as he called for the twins’ attention, he turned to him as well. Uta called him ‘Dad’ while running to grab his arm in fright. It’s been years and the twins have grown up yet they exhibit the same terrifying expression when faced by him.

“Dad?” He repeated in his booming voice, looking in confusion at the man who only raised an eyebrow. Yu muttered an apology, pulling his sister behind Yuta. “You’re playing house in the human world? You should have known better.”

Yuta had to turn around, “Let’s go, kids.” He mumbled before stopping at what the old man said,

“Don’t kill another human again, Yuta.”

VI. GOODBYE

“Let me go!” Yuta kept shouting which made Y/N look at him in surprise. His eyes were closed shut, sweat beads forming on his eyebrows. Was he dreaming? “Let me go!”

The girl had to shake him aggressively to wake him up from his deep sleep. “Yuta, are you alright?” She asked once assured that he had regained consciousness. Y/N started wiping his forehead with the blanket to dry off his sweat. “You’re having a bad dream.”

But Y/N was startled when he pulled her closer, hugging her body. His breathing was harsh against her skin, tightly holding onto her with shaking fingers. He might be scared. But what was the dream about? Why does he keep shouting to let him go? The girl threaded her fingers on his hair, hushing him up. Her other hand rubbed his back in a calming manner.

She was relieved that he got calmer over the simple action.

But what is wrong with him?

Even in the morning, he was just quietly staring at the two kids who were huddled on the table while watching a caterpillar they got outside. “It looks ugly,” Uta claimed, which made the older girl laugh, handing them the small container filled with twigs and leaves where they could keep the caterpillar. “It looks like Yu’s horns.”

The older boy glared at his sister. “But when a caterpillar grows up, it will be a very pretty butterfly.” The older girl explained, picking up the caterpillar and placing it inside the container.

“Will it grow wings?” Y/N nodded at the younger girl. “Like our wings?”

Yu shook his head, “Different wings. Prettier than yours.” Uta pouted with a huff, making the older laugh at her cuteness. Her eyes gazed at Yuta who was just looking at them with a stoic face. Was he not amused at how cute Yu and Uta are? Or was it because of his dream earlier? Should she ask about it?

Since it was her day off and she needed to buy a gift for her co-worker’s daughter, she asked the three to come with her to the mall. She had gotten her pay the day before and could buy something for the three of them. Maybe a new sunglass for Yu, a pretty ribbon for Uta, and a tank top for Yuta. He had been wearing sleeved shirts lately and she was annoyed, she loved seeing his exposed arms around the house. Those thick arms that she loved to claw on. Y/N stared at his arms before gazing at his face. To her surprise, Yuta had been looking straight at her.

Oh shit. The arousal. He could smell her.

In the end, Y/N cannot force Yuta to come out and the kids promise the older man that they’ll behave in the mall. She was giggling to himself at how he looked like a dad scolding his kids. Yu and Uta are so hyperactive outside that she’s already tired the moment they step foot inside the mall. The two kept on buying different kinds of stuff: shirts, shoes, and dresses. Luckily, Yuta had given her a card to spend on the kids.

Where did he get all the money? But then Yu was the one who explained that Yuta was the son of a higher demon, like an heir in a human world. So when the three decided to stay in the human world, his assets in hell became assets in the human world. “So Yuta is rich?” She innocently asked.

“Super rich,” Uta claimed, biting on her fried chicken.

Y/N was astounded at that fact. He’s handsome and he’s rich? She cannot deny that he’s also hot and so great in bed. “Is he still single?” The question came out before she could even process it in her mind. That was so wrong to ask. But she’s so curious. Yu gave her a knowing smile but she shook her head, wanting to tell him that what he was thinking was wrong. But that would be so defensive of her.

“The first time we met Master Yuta, he was heartbroken from his first love.” Uta shared. Y/N’s ears perked up at that. First love? “He was caged by his father for killing that person.” She gasped in surprise. Maybe that’s why he was saying those words in his dream. But Yuta killed his first love?

Yu hissed at his sister for talking too much. “But master claims that it wasn’t his doing.” He shared calmly, “Killing a human is a grave sin in hell and the other demons believe that Master is the only one who could do it.”

That was heartbreaking. But Y/N doesn’t know Yuta enough to judge him. She saw him kill twice but those were all demons and he promised that he’d save her, even if he lived or died. Surely, Yuta cannot kill a human. Especially a person he once loved. “Yu, can you erase his memory of his first love?” The younger boy shook his head, claiming that he could not erase a demon’s memory.

Y/N nodded. If Yu or Uta cannot, then she should help him. But how could she do that? How could she stop the nightmares when he obviously can’t move on from his life in hell? How could one measly human help a somewhat higher demon? “Do you think I could do something to help him?”

Uta nodded but Yu glared at her. At her prodding, the younger girl answered. “Help him regain his powers so he can turn back time. That was his goal.”

“Regain his powers?” They did mention it before. “How can I help regain his powers?” The two kids shrugged, busy eating their meal. Should she ask Yuta instead? Is it a demon thing? “Then, how do the two of you regain your powers?”

“Eating,” they muttered in unison which made her smile. Obviously. Yuta calls them gluttonous demons so maybe that’s why. Should she cook for Yuta to regain his power?

Y/N had to cover her mouth at the sudden realization. Yuta is a lust demon. He cannot regain power just by a simple meal. He needed sex.

She shook her head to divert her attention as Uta looked at her in worry. “Then how did the two of you end up in the demon world?”

The girl dropped her fork and she wanted to quickly apologize for asking something so insensitive. “We both light our house on fire, killing us and our family.” That’s so familiar and tragic. “Master explained that we killed ourselves, that's why we’re in hell, a grave sin like his.” Yu continued.

Y/N held the top of Uta’s head. “I think the two of you are great kids.” She claimed then smiled at the younger girl. “If ever I get married and have kids, I hope they’re as lovely and clever as the two of you.” She continued, even staring at Yu who looked shy at what she was saying. “I bet your parents are very proud of the two of you.”

“Your parents are also proud of you, unnie,” Uta claimed, which confused her. “We met them in the demon world.”

“We’re home!” Uta shouted, bursting to the door and then showing off her pink glittery bow. Yu helped put down the paper bags on the couch as Y/N went straight to the kitchen while chuckling at the younger girl’s cute antics. Yu showed his new sunglasses making Yuta hiss. They spend all his money on these useless things? They’re such kids.

Yuta carefully glanced at the different paper bags full of fabric and accessories. “Did you say thank you to Y/N?” The two kids nodded while taking out toys from one paper bag. He shook his head, such kids. The guy had to bite his bottom lip, smelling a very familiar scent coming from the kitchen. What is she doing?

Y/N was standing by the stove as he wrapped his arms around her waist, “Smells good.”

“I’m heating the pasta we bought…”

“I meant you,” His hand that was resting on her stomach trailed to her breast, grabbing one boob from the material of her blouse. “Why are you so aroused? I can smell you.” He pulled her closer, kissing the side of her neck.

Small giggles came out of her lips, “I’m not the only aroused one.” She teased before rubbing her ass on his bulge. Yuta laughed at that action. Y/N turned around to face him after turning off the stove. “Do you want to try something new, Yuta?”

Something new? His eyebrow raised at that. The girl started tying her tail to a ponytail, licking her lips in the process. Yuta lightly chuckled when she started kneeling on the floor. A blowjob? Did someone replace Y/N in the store? What is happening to her? Her fingers were undoing the zipper of his pants when he claimed, “Right now? With the kids outside?”

The girl grinned. “Look at you being a dad,” she teased before gazing at him with lust-hooded eyes. “Daddy.”

“Yu! Uta!” Yuta shouted. “Could the two of you deliver a message?”

If Yuta thought hell was full of chaos, the demons should attend a kid’s birthday party. Kids were all running, high-pitched squeals and laugh echoed throughout the whole venue. It's utterly chaos.

All the moms were staring at him, whispering things to other moms. He doesn’t know what it was but he had been called a lot of distasteful names before so their words wouldn’t have to bother him. But when they started talking to Y/N, laughing with her while pointing at him, Yuta felt curious. It was like they were watching his every move and for them to not suspect something, he was attentive to the twins. They kept on running around, playing with the human kids as if they weren’t demons. They looked so fascinated at the clown’s magic tricks and when the bubble show came, they kept squealing in delight.

Yuta had to smile at that. At least they had the experience of being kids in the human world. “He’s so attractive,” he overheard one of the moms say to her husband. He remembered her as one of Y/N’s co-workers in the diner. Was she talking about him? “He takes care of his kids so well.” Wait, was he doing too much? “No wonder Y/N looks so happy lately.”

His gaze fell on the girl seated on the floor and taking pictures of the twins inside the huge bubble. “They already look like a small family.” Yuta smiled. That wasn’t a bad thought.

After the bubble show, came desserts. Yu was careful about eating too much but Uta kept on coming the second time to the cake table, even taking a huge piece. “You should stop, Uta.” Yuta reprimanded, making the young girl pout. “Your dress will pop off if you eat another bite.” Y/N had to take the discarded plate filled with cake and hand it to the younger girl who went running to her brother. “Y/N!”

“You cannot stop a girl from eating, Yuta.” She claimed, “Besides, Uta is still cute even if she eats too much.”

“She’s my daughter.” A gasp can be heard nearby from a mom overhearing their conversation.

The girl rolled her eyes at that. “I know. But that is my baby girl,” Yuta smirked. That’s her revolt? “You cannot tell my baby what she can’t or can eat.” She claimed before taking another slice of cake, “Even Yu.” She claimed before feeding him a piece of cake and walking away.

Yuta could only laugh in disbelief, wiping his lips to remove the icing. Are they playing bad cop, good cop now? Yeah, he’ll be the bad parent. He’s a demon, for crying out loud. That’s his nature. And obviously, that is exactly the reason why Yu and Uta like her so much. She's always the good parent. Spoiling them with everything.

The two of them as parents? Yuta timidly smiled at the thought before shaking his head. What the heck is this light, mushy feeling creeping into his body? “She makes you weak?” The mom eavesdropping on them asked that confused Yuta. “You shouldn’t let go of a girl that loves your children like that.” She had a knowing smile on her face as she stared at Y/N talking to the two kids while eating cake. “You should never let Y/N go.”

Yuta shouldn’t. Even if he had encountered these things before, he knew Y/N had shown him a very different feeling. He had always thought hell was the hottest place in existence but why does he feel warmer in her arms? And these mushy feelings? Why would his heart beat so much whenever he sees Y/N smile? She makes him weak and strong at the same time. It’s crazy.

Yuta might be crazy.

Has he finally moved on? Is this not a mistake if he pursued it further? Should he ask her once again to have a binding contract with her? Because right now, he’s sure that he would be willing and more than happy to be chained to her if it meant staying with her.

“Oh, the father of the birthday girl is here!” The clown claimed making all the kids look at the man coming into the party venue carrying a huge dollhouse.

The sound of broken plates echoed throughout the place but Yuta’s gaze didn’t leave the man who was now looking at him, as well as all the guests. Y/N was quick to stand up, looking at him with worry but the other man was quicker on his feet to land a punch on Yuta’s face. “You!” he shouted, face filled with rage. “I’m going to kill you, motherfucker!”

Yuta didn’t make a move and let the man take blows on his face. Anything to ease his anger. He could feel some people stopping the man repeatedly punching him and kids crying at how scary the scene was. Some mothers also gasped calling for Y/N’s name and from his bleeding eye, Yuta saw Y/N seated on top of the broken plates he had created.

Once again, Yuta reminded himself that this will be a huge mistake. He really shouldn’t pursue this much longer.

Yuta kept on hissing as Y/N put medicine on the cuts on his face. Since Uta cannot heal him, he let the older girl tend to his wounds. He cannot go to the hospital. He doesn’t really deserve it. The man should have killed him and he would easily let him.

An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. A life for a life.

He lightly glanced at Y/N’s palm, “Aren’t you hurt as well?”

She lightly glanced at the faint white lines across her palm. “Uta did her best to heal me and Yu had to erase everyone’s memory.” She shared in a soft voice, “They said they’ll go back to hell to rest for a while.” Yuta nodded. He could also do that. “Was he related to your first love?”

Yuta had to look her straight in the eye. How did she know that? “The twins told you?”

“I asked them. So please don’t be mad at them.” He hissed, closing his eyes at that. “Did you really kill her?” The way she said those words was so calculated, so quiet. As if she was scared. Of him? Of the fact that he killed someone? He wasn’t entirely sure.

“I did.” The shift in her eyes broke Yuta. “That was her final wish, to leave the world.”

She stared at him in confusion. How much did the twins tell her? “Final wish?”

“From the binding contract,” he started. “She was my human and I’m bound to her.” Even saying those words felt like thorns digging into Yuta’s heart. “I became too obsessed with her, too possessive, that she grew mad.”

“Her last wish was to end her life and I have to make it happen as her demon.”

Y/N’s eyes softened at that. Now that she heard it straight from Yuta, she realized that it wasn't all that bad. He had to do what he promised to do. Is this the reason why he was locked in hell? The grave sin he committed to the demon world?

He’s just a man who fell in love. That’s the risk someone has to take whenever they fall in love. Ain’t no joy, ain’t no torment.

His dark brown eyes bore through hers, making her hitch a breath. “And I’m almost making the same mistake the second time.”

Her eyes widened at those words. She was thinking the same thing as he was thinking right? “Then Yuta, let’s do the binding contract…”

“No, Y/N.”

It was a strong no. But Y/N isn’t even disheartened. She could always ask him again and maybe he could crack and say yes. There’s always a flaw in every contract and she just needed to look for it so she could help Yuta be free from the memory of his first love. So he wouldn’t have a chance to make the same mistake to her.

She stretched her arms seeing the two kids snoring on both sides of the bed. When she glanced at the far end, Yuta was nowhere in sight. The house sounds so quiet. Was he away? Maybe he came back to their world. It had been an exhausting feat for him, she completely understood why he would go out. Maybe she should cook for the kids and regain their powers. Maybe she should think of horny thoughts so Yuta could come back quickly.

As she stepped outside the room, she saw a piece of paper on top of the table. That’s odd. Yuta doesn’t leave notes when he’s going out. But as she read the letters scribbled on the paper, her tears fell from her eyes. She had to read the same sentences repeatedly for it to make sense.

I didn’t know I would feel this way again.

It’s because I love you that I say this,

Eternally, goodbye.

Yuta didn’t just go out. He already left.

VII. BUTTERFLY

It must be a dream.

A crazy dream.

She didn’t even know what reality was from a dream. As she stared at the cocoon inside the container, she wanted to believe that everything was real - that she met two adorable kids, Yu and Uta. Yet whenever she would share that fact with her co-workers, they would just make her crazy by claiming that they had never seen her with two kids before. Even at the party, she was alone and nothing scandalous happened.

Then, they might not be real.

It must be the medicine making her crazy like this. Should she stop taking it? Should she continue taking it? But as she tried to swallow one pill, she felt something kicking in her stomach.

It’s been days, turned into weeks that this strange phenomenon happened to her. Something kept on kicking inside her, giving sharp pain to her abdomen. Some of her female co-workers told her to get it checked but her male co-workers beg to differ. “You’ve been non-stop talking about twins and something is in your stomach,” they would narrate, “Maybe you’re pregnant, Y/N.”

That isn’t plausible. The female doctor asked her the last time she had some sexual activity and she just didn’t know what to say. Are all those vivid horny dreams real? Was that gorgeous demon named Yuta even real? She ruled out the idea of her being pregnant and suggested eating full healthy meals and to stop stressing herself out.

Maybe that was it. She can’t possibly be pregnant. That would be crazy.

But then, everything in her life had gone crazy.

Cold seasons meant Christmas was coming soon. She quit her gasoline station gig, mainly because of her co-worker's worried advice that she lives alone and being outside late at night would be very dangerous for her. On her days off, a friend from the said gasoline gig would always ask her to come out at Christmas fairs and just buy gifts and trinkets. Y/N would always pout, there was no one she could give gifts to except her co-workers who had everything they needed.

At one stall, her eyes focused on gray sunglasses with sparkling stones on the frame. Uta would really love that. On another stall selling ponytails, she saw a pastel pink that would look really good on Uta’s twin pigtails. Then there are different colored female tank tops that would look so sexy on Yuta’s body.

A small chuckle escaped her lips.

She’s indeed a crazy woman.

As she was walking around, she spotted a picture of a horned creature on one of the tents. Demons should look like that, right? Not cute, not lovable, not handsome. Maybe she had really gone mad thinking that she had met demons. The tent had different colored trinkets, fairy lights illuminated the outline of the small slit of an entrance. On the side says ‘Psychic’ which made her smile. Who would even believe in these things? The woman inside spotted her and welcomed her with a smile on her face. “How are you, Y/N?” The girl’s eyes widened in surprise. How did she know her name? “Were you living alright? Do you honestly think everything is just a dream?”

Maybe it was her strategy but how did she find out her name? She only gave the girl a warm smile as she sat down in front of her, “I should be careful with my words or they would come after me.” She started that confused her. What? The psychic, a middle-aged woman, started telling her about her life, That she was adopted after her birth mother died while giving birth to her. That she lived a mostly lavish life but gambling ended everything. Y/N’s mind was mind-blown. How does she know so much? “Your parents are great people, my dear child.”

“My parents?”

“I know you blame them for their death but it was inevitable. It doesn’t mean that they didn’t love you. They said goodbye because they love you so much.” The older woman smiled, “Even that man.”

It’s because I love you that I say this, eternally, goodbye.

The wonder was laced with confusion at her words. How did she know so much about her life? Is she being her crazy self again? “Be careful of wings, dear Y/N.” Wings? “This will bring you to those looking after you.”

Instead of clarity, she only got confusion. Why did she even enter that tent? Who the hell would even believe a so-called psychic who kept on spouting nonsense? Only a crazy person would.

And she’s a crazy person.

Some of her co-workers invited her for their family Christmas party but Y/N remained at home, watching television and eating leftover pizza. She kept on watching the little cocoon inside the container but it was a boring activity. Nothing much is happening.

Before the New Year came, a male co-worker asked her to hike a mountain with his friends. The sharp stinging pain in her abdomen doesn’t hinder her from walking to the slippery trail. She’s willing to forget everything about this change of the year. To move on with her life with the image of the sunrise.

She’ll start thinking of herself more.

Even in the dark, her sense of sight was heightened. The males in the group started setting up the tent and she was just standing by the edge, taking in the landscape in front of her. In just a few hours, the sunrise will come and everything will be illuminated with its beauty.

She’ll finally forget about them: Yu, Uta, and especially Yuta.

A small fluttering wing came into her sight. The little butterfly flew in front of her as if asking for her attention. Its wings had a shade of gray and pink, a lovely combination. Will that little cocoon in her home reveal a butterfly this pretty? She tried to reach for the small creature, eager to feel it on her fingertips. But she took a wrong step and felt a cold breeze.

She could only hear the collective sounds of her name being called and saw the butterfly fluttering its wings to land on her nose. She finally felt its wings.

Be careful of wings, dear Y/N. Wings? Butterflies have wings. Yu and Uta have wings. Yuta has wings. This will bring you back to those looking after you. Then this will be her death, isn’t it?

She felt the impact of the water behind her before the feeling of falling. Funny she was already falling from the cliff earlier yet she could only feel that sensation now that she was in the water. She knew how to swim and could easily make her way to the shore but she lost all will to survive. Isn’t this better? Isn’t this what she wanted all along?

Y/N closed her eyes letting the water engulf her.

A red light made her open her eyes. An image of two small creatures coming to her, swimming to reach her, blocking the red light. She doesn’t want to be saved now. Yet, when they reached her, she was startled that they were very familiar. Yu and Uta.

Uta was coughing, complaining that she had never swam that deep before. Y/N had to apologize before seeing herself lying on the rocky shore. That is her lifeless body, right? Then why is she watching over herself? “Am I dead?”

Yu shook his head. “You’re in the middle,” He explained which confused her. Middle? “You have two options: to remain living in the human world or go up.” Both Yu and Uta looked up as if stressing that option.

“Go up?” she asked. “Up where?”

“To heaven and be an angel,” Uta claimed. Was she allowed to say those words?

And her? An angel? Maybe these two are the crazy ones. “But I don’t deserve to go there and be an angel.”

“Dad thinks you are one.” Uta started before Yu continued, “He even calls you his angel.”

That sentence seemed to shut you down. You knew the dad they were talking about. But why? Really, an angel? Maybe Yuta was the crazy one.

The older twin showed his dark pitchfork, “If you take this, your soul will return to your body and you could keep continue living in the human world.” The younger twin revealed her bright pink pitchfork, “If you take Uta’s, you’ll go to heaven and be an angel.”

But none of the choices even enticed her. Going back to her life feels like hell and going to heaven means she won’t be seeing them again. She wanted to go where they were. Wanted to be where Yuta is. But how?

Then it hit her. Conversations about people in the demon world came to her like a wave. The way Yu and Uta were brought to hell. How her parents were in hell based on the twins. How Yuta was caged in that place all this time.

She had probably gone crazy.

In a desperate attempt, she took both pitchforks that startled the young devils. Quickly, she struck her lifeless body’s chest, digging the pitchforks so deep that blood started seeping into her drenched clothes. “I wish to be with Yuta in hell.”

Then everything went black.

Y/N opened her eyes in a blinding red light. It feels so hot that she’s almost sweating hard. And when she glanced at where she was lying, it was covered with something red. Rose petals. A bed of roses? Everything was red. Surely this wouldn’t be heaven. The closest that it could be would be a brothel. Then is she back to her own body? But why a brothel?

The wide doors opened, cold breeze started coming in that made her shiver. What the hell even is this place?

Then it struck her.

Hell.

A shadow of a tall man, in a long coat with huge dark wings, was walking to her. The smell of musk filled the air. “What the hell, Y/N?” he shouted, staring at her in fury.

She knew it before he could even speak but why is he hotter in hell? Is she really in hell right now? A smirk left her lips, “I think what you wanted to say was welcome to hell.” she claimed, staring straight at him. “And nice to see you again, Yuta.”

The man chuckled in disbelief, sitting beside her on the bed. Her instinct was to touch his feathered wings. They’re so soft and warm. “You’re crazy. Do you know that?”

She rolled her eyes at that. “I know. I know.” Then squinted her eyes at him, “You’ve been playing with my mind all these times. I’m not even surprised I’ll get crazy.”

Yuta smiled timidly. “You do realize you’re now stuck in hell with me, right?”

Y/N nodded. She realized that when he came to the door. But why? “How?” Yu and Uta just gave her two options. And killing herself doesn’t guarantee a spot in hell. How did she manage to come to this place?

“Because of your final wish.”

Final wish? That she stayed with Yuta in hell? But Y/N only heard that with the topic of the binding contract. “We’re not in a binding…”

“We are,” he claimed, surprising her. “I put a bead inside you so the demons wouldn’t smell you even if I’m away.” A bead? Unconsciously, she touched her abdomen. The kicking inside her. That was the bead. The stinging pain whenever she would talk to guys. That was the bead. The bead Yuta put inside her. A binding contract. His chain on her.

The girl squinted her eyes at him. Now it all makes sense. “Possessive freak.”

Yuta was just laughing, a hearty laugh that made her stare. She isn’t fazed by the fact that Yuta is here in front of her, she’s more astounded at the fact that he is real. That everything was real. “You’ll have to adjust well living here in hell, can you take it Y/N?” Glancing around, she could say that hell isn’t that bad. The demon world is even better than the human world. “You’re going to stay with me, can you do that Y/N?”

“And the twins?” Yuta had to groan, claiming that she liked them so much it was annoying. “Well, I do love them more than I love you.”

“You love me?” he raised an eyebrow.

Y/N laughed wholeheartedly, standing up from the bed. “I went to hell for you, stupid.” Before she could move away from him, Yuta had pulled her back into his arms. His wings wrapped around her. She knew hell was hot but the way his arms and his wings wrapped around her made her feel so warm. “Besides, hell smells so good.” The guy looked surprised, inquiring her what it was. “It smells musky, a manly man smell.” Yuta had a confused look on his face which made her giggle. “You’re emitting that scent now.” She leaned in to sniff his neck as his fingers dug on her waist. “It smells so good.”

The guy had to laugh at that. A musky scent? Right now? “Y/N,” he called which made her hum, “You haven't been here for long and I already knew what kind of a demon you are.” The girl gave him a puzzled look. “And I’m glad we’re the same kind of demon.” He licked his lips at the realization in her face. “Shall we start regaining our powers together?”

Before she could speak, Yuta had pushed her to bed making her squeal in surprise.

EPILOGUE: DEPTH

Hell had always been hell.

A hot place full of agony. An evil place full of torment.

There’s no joy without torment. But there’s no torment without joy.

Yuta had never thought that the place he despised the most would be the place where he’d be the happiest.

All because of this human girl who chose to be with him.

Uta was the one who said that her ‘mom’ was in the receiving room with her parents. Yu even reported that they had a long talk with Y/N apologizing and thanking them a lot. He wished he was there to at least hold her hand and stop her from crying. But Yuta promised that he wouldn’t meddle in her affairs the same way she didn’t meddle in his.

Because of her egging and warm attitude, Yuta had a chance to talk to his father. He cleared his name, explaining that it wasn’t his fault that a human died. The greater demon apologized to him for the years he had made him a prisoner. He even warmed up to the twins, even calling them his grandkids and promising the two to give them more powers as their grandfather.

Yuta was just flabbergasted. Who’s playing house now?

He opened the huge doors of the receiving area, Y/N staring at him in surprise as she stood by the huge windows. “My angel,” he called making her parents giggle. They excused themselves to leave and when they closed the door, Yuta wrapped his arms on the girl’s waist. “I miss you, angel.”

“I told you not to call me that,” But Yuta only pouted. “Besides, it hasn’t been that long since we last saw each other.”

Yuta kissed her neck, “But I’m getting powerless.” She hissed at that. “I need to regain my strength.”

“Having a lust demon as a husband is so hard.”

“You’re a lust demon yourself.” he revolted. “We’ll be quick,” he started carrying her to the ledge of the window, parting her legs to move closer to her. “And I can smell that you also need this.”

Before he could lean in to kiss her, the doors opened with a loud thud. “Mommy!” Uta called. Yuta leaned his head on Y/N’s shoulder, hissing at the cockblocker. “I’m hungry.”

“You promised to cook a meal for us. We missed your burger patties.” Yu claimed as the older girl stood up, instructing the two to wait for her in the kitchen.

Yuta had a defeated look on his face. Should he ship those two little devils somewhere far away? Maybe he can have a moment with his wife alone. “I’ll be quick,” she claimed, kissing Yuta’s cheeks. “When I get back I’ll prepare your most favorite meal.”

“And what is that?”

“Me, of course.”

His laugh echoed through the whole room making the girl giggle. “I hate to say this but you adapted in this place very well.” Y/N had to giggle, kissing his other cheek. The two kids called for her, shouting mommy which made Yuta laugh. “Hurry up and go to your kids. I’ll wait for you in our room, mommy.”

“Be ready for me, daddy.” She claimed with a wink.

“Sure thing, angel.”

“Don’t call me that!” she shouted from outside making Yuta laugh.

Maybe there’s still hope for him.

Hell wasn’t that bad, actually.

Hell is such a good place. Hell is such a great place.

Especially with her.

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