#I’m trying so hard not to think about the book too hard but it’s fun

[sassydefendorflower]

Holy Server B@tman! Fanfic Rec List 2.0

Hello and welcome back to a very special fanfic rec list! 

The members of the amazing Holy Server B@tman! Server are an extremely talented bunch - many great artists and writers together in one place to foster each other’s creativity and joy to participate in fandom.

That has to be celebrated! 

So, please welcome a list of stories our writers loved to create, their very own Greatest Hits!

(please click on your own discretion - you’ll find the appropriate warnings on ao3)

Fujiwhara Effect by byrambles / @byrambles

Fujiwhara Effect: When two tropical cyclones spinning in the same direction pass so close to each other than they begin spinning around a common center. Or: Dick is NOT a fan of Bruce’s new kid (seriously, WHO brings home a new kid weeks after the old one moves out and then doesn’t even have the courtesy to tell – ). When he gets trapped in Gotham by an East Coast hurricane, though, he has to figure out how to be in the same room as Jason without losing it.

byrambles's words: This was so much fun to write! I think it has a sweet mix of angst and fluff — plus a silly little surprise part-way through!

The Lines that Bond Us by canaf_lilah

Reclusive author Bruce Wayne's most recent book, The Bat Man, was a critical success and a mass market flop. As he struggles to make sense of a sequel, he shocks no one more than himself when he brings home recently orphaned Dick Grayson. Bruce could never have predicted the impact on his life - and his writing - the remarkably resilient young acrobat would have. Batman and Robin may only exist on the pages of Bruce's books, but that doesn't stop them from saving the people they touch.

Lilah's words: to me this is by far the best fic I've ever written. I'm determined to finish it one day, but don't be too put off by the incomplete status! It works well as a standalone.

red like blood (they won't wash clean) by silver_the_phoenix

Tim snaps. It's a lot bloodier than he thought it would be.

Silver's words: I started this one because Tim deserves to go a little feral, as a treat; and I finished it because I'm a simp for Good Brother Jason Todd.

Cared For by 1Zukoneedsafamily2 / @trashcollectshere

Jason smirked as he stood over The Replacement. He stroked the feathers of the splayed-out wings, before he gripped a group of feathers and yanked. Not hard enough to pull out feathers but he wanted him awake when the fun started.

Krys' words: also everyone loves a tower fic right???

Brother, Go Find Your Brother by sleepingcreep (JaySgrech) / @misplacedspleen

Brother, go find your brother: A method of finding something lost by attempting to lose something similar in the same way, in the hopes that it gets lost in the same place and both can be found. “You should match, right?” The grin cracked wider as the lanky captor rolled the knife between their fingers, strolling closer to where Tim was pinned to the wall. Jason didn’t comprehend what the creep meant, too focused on trying to pull his hands against the cuffs in the right way to pop his thumb out of place to get free. There are many years of scars between Jason and Tim before they match.

Jay's words: I'm reccing it because I'm proud of how the settings turned out and I think I wrote a unique take on Jason and Tim's relationship

dirt piling up, putting me to bed by rutaceae / @applejee

Jason never imagined that a simple trip to a bookshop could end with him trapped in the basement of a collapsed building with Tim, but you don't often get what you imagined when you live in Gotham.

Luka's words: i’m quite happy with how contained this little fic is (for me); i always wanted to stab someone, and have someone else panic so bad they don’t realise they’re fucked up themself. fun times!!

Do-Si-Do's Churros & Other Curious Things About Love by sElkieNight60 / @selkienight60

Being a beta in a house full of alpha’s is rough. Especially if you’re trying to be heard.

Selkie's words: I like it because I really enjoy reading Platonic Omegaverse stories, and the Batfamily are so unrepresented here, (I say, in the meaning that I simply crave more of them, there are truthfully quite a few out there, but I just enjoy them so much).

Maui Melon Mint by motleyfam / @motleyfam

In the case of Bats vs. Stomach Bug, there can only be one victor.

Motley's words: I had a ton of fun writing from Damian’s POV for a change and letting Alfred wear his sassy pants

Writer's Cellblock by pinstripedJackalope / @the-ghost-of-jason-todd

Mystery writer and father to five, Bruce Wayne has no great fortunes to fall back on. No reserve of social charisma, no family jewels. He no longer has a butler, though Alfred does his best to visit regularly. He is, in short, not the kind of man who can buy freedom. Heck, he can barely make ends meet some months. So you can understand the… concern… he feels when, late one night, two FBI agents come knocking at his door.

K's words: ngl it was hard to pick a fic, and i would have picked one with more than one chapter but i always did think this one was kind of fun

Golden Silence, Golden Yolks by BabblingBookends / @babblingbookends

Words between Dick and Bruce have never been easy. Dick talks, Bruce doesn’t listen. Bruce talks, Dick is expected to listen. Better if neither of them speak at all.

Babbles' words: If you watch a TV show for long enough, there will inevitably be some character moments in a diner, and I just think that's fun, hence this fic!

keep your head up (it's a cruel world) by lookforanewangle / @lookforanewangle

“If the past is anything to go on, sir,” he says kindly, “this boy will be in your care for a good many lifetimes, and you will do all you can to keep him safe, just like you have with the others.” Or, the Batfam/The Old Guard reverse verse au with Dick's introduction to the world of immortals

Lyss' words: I put a lot of work into this one and while I know reverse verse isn't everyone's cup of tea, I think it works best in this universe in this order, with many surprises yet to come, and room for this universe to grow!

A Promise to Stay by xerzi / @xerziartblog

No one needed Tim Drake, but Tim Drake still needed to be needed. And well, who better to choose than the one person who could never stop needing him? So inherently broken that his job would never be finished. Yet so unfortunately resilient that he would never be left the sole survivor. And so desperate to serve that he would never be betrayed again. In other words, no one else needed Tim Drake, but certainly, he knew there was someone who could make use of his particular skill set. - Tim Drake, 12-year-old independent adult, professional birdwatcher, is offered everything he’s ever wanted…for the low, low price of his verbal agreement. All he has to do is say yes.

Xerzi's words: I just want to put Tim Drake in a jar and try to figure out what's wrong with him…so I put TWO Tim Drakes in the same jar so they can work together to figure out what's wrong with them (and how to fix it)

The End of Man by AuroraKant / @sassydefendorflower

Dick Grayson wasn’t meant to be caged in, but then again… Dick Grayson wasn’t a murderer, and look at him now. (was this what insanity felt like?) Dick Grayson gets captured, forced to shift, and put into a cage - surely, this is the worst that can happen?

Aurora's words: Look... I always wanted to write a deranged Shifter AU in which Dick Grayson goes absolutely mental. What can I say? I love it when my boy is broken and covered in blood <3

Catching Stars and Comets by Faeriekit

From this tumblr prompt: "Reverse Robins AU but instead of making Damian oldest and going down the line so on and so forth, it’s a bunch of assembled weird vigilante-crime men and their accidentally adopted autistic eight year old rich boy, Bruce, who calls himself “batkid” for reasons beyond their mutual understanding of expected kid behavior."

Faeriekit's words: it's been a fun AU to work on, I hope people enjoy it, also it's got kids. It's basically an ageswap!AU where all the batkids are "villains" without Bruce's influence. And it was either this fic or the bees.

cardboard box by A_Canceled_Stamp / @a-canceled-stamp

Robin!Tim is exposed to Ivy's cuddle pollen. For the first time, he reaches out to Bruce for help. How he wishes he hadn't.

Stamp's words: this is my first hurt/no comfort fic and I am very happy with how it turned out! The comments I've gotten on it always make me cackle lmao

a flower called you has bloomed by dottie_dc / @dottie-wan-kenobi

The real problem is that, well. Last time Tim went undercover, he kind of… came home and embarrassed himself. It’s not that he’s shy about being seen in disguise, okay? They can all tease him all they want but it doesn’t bother him. He has way more blackmail on his siblings than they do him, so whatever. It’s just… Caroline Hill is a different story.

Dottie's words: I saw the inspo art and it gave me immediate motivation to write something, which was really fun. I loved writing it and seeing people in the comments be able to relate. queer headcanons my beloved <3

Of The Covenant by Kgraces / @kgraces

Dick Grayson is many things, and foremost among those, he's a detective. He can't stop himself from noticing things about Tim Drake — things that make him question not only his home life but his relationship with Bruce Wayne, too. (Things spiral from there.)

Gracie's words: I’m gonna toss my current longfic your way so hopefully it motivates me to work on it more lmao. It’s a Dick & Tim fic where Dick basically takes a look at all the adults in Tim’s life and goes “is anyone going to take care of this feral, unsupervised child? No? Guess he’s my responsibility now.”

Now and Then by librarylexicon / @librarylexicon

Dick’s spent the past few months recovering from an ordeal he’d rather not think about, so when Bruce asks him to spend quality time with Tim outside of their masks, he instantly agrees. Amid conversations, itineraries, nightmares, photos, revelations and a whole lot of chocolate, he and Tim navigate the Great Ocean Road—and learn more about themselves and each other along the way.

lily's words: Dick and Tim are my favourite Batboys, so I've been wanting to write a fic about them for a long time, because of their long history and close brotherly relationship in the comics. This story is a love letter to their bond, and I'm very pleased with the way all the emotional whump turned out!

How to tape a card castle by Fleur_de_Violette / @fleur-de-violette

Dick saves the new Robin one day. This is it. This is all. It’s not that he doesn’t want to have a relationship with Jason, it’s just that it’s too complicated. He doesn’t know how to deal with being an adult on top of being Nightwing. He can’t deal with Jason, with what Jason represents, on top of it. Except, when a small injury doesn’t heal up the way it’s supposed to, he ends up being the one who needs saving and he’s finally forced to face the new Robin.

Violette's words: This is my longest published fic so far ! I really enjoyed writing it, both the Robin Jason and Dick part and the little case stories in between and I'm happy about how it turned out!

See You At Your Worst by wildsofmarch / @wildsofmarch

Dick has only been a mob enforcer for six months, but delivering a shipment of guns to an up-and-coming crime lord in Gotham should have been easy. All he needs to do is win the man's trust and secure him as a repeat customer. Unfortunately, the Red Hood is not impressed with him.

Wilds' words: I like this one because I go ham with the identity porn!

The Nature of Things by FidotheFinch / @fidothefinch

After a mission gone wrong and a spat with Drake, Robin is benched. Worse than that: Damian is grounded. As serendipity would have it, it gives Damian the opportunity to facilitate the rehabilitation of the manor's new ward, a dog Batman rescued from a fighting ring.

Fido's words: I got to memorialize pieces of my childhood pups in this story, and it was my first fic in the fandom

in vitro by genericlesbian72 / @femmescooter

Shadow-girl did not know much. She didn't need to. But she knew her first kill would be for the baby.

Hedgehog's words: This fic was a challenge to myself on how Cassandra would view her first kill, without words to describe it, while also a take on ‘joining the Batfamily early’ for her that I haven’t seen much before.

this one takes the cake by carol_in_au / @carol-in-au

Jason took a sip from his glass, slowly, synching it with Bruce's words. Bruce cleared his throat, and continued with an authoriative tone that was so not him. "I have something to announce." Bruce Wayne has an announcement to make

Chrys' words: It's fast-paced, has a good comedic timing, a bit of fluff in some moments. When I reread it, I found it pleasant to read and I was quite happy I created it

presumptions by Valkirin / @valkirinii

Batman is away on a long mission with the Justice League when Red Hood attacks Robin in Titans Tower. Red Hood thinks that hurting Robin will get Batman's attention. He doesn't expect Nightwing. Nightwing doesn't know what to expect from Red Hood, Gotham's newest rogue.

Trixie's words: It's one of my favorites that doesn't seem to get as much attention. It's also really fun to let Dick Grayson be angry and intimidating.

Operation Friendship Helmet by goldenraeofsun / @raeofsoleil

When Red Hood meets Dick, he seems almost friendly, compared to the violent hostility he showed Batman and Robin. Maybe, if Dick plays his cards right, he can turn Red Hood from a crime boss to a vigilante. But the closer he gets to Hood, the question nags louder and louder: why does Red Hood seem so familiar?

Rae's words: This is the first time I really dove into my favorite trope, secret identities, complete with a big reveal at the end.

Roadtrip to Nowhere by Ghxst_Bird / @ghost-bxrd

“For the last time, I’m not modifying a car we’ll be ditching a few towns over.” “Why, you got better things to do?” “Yeah, getting food on the table, you leech.” Jason goes on an impromptu road trip with an ex-Talon and ends up running into a family member… who still thinks he’s dead. Oops.

Ghost's words: Calvin Rose deserves more love in this fandom!

Q is for Quintessential by writergeek / @writergeek

"Rodney...you're talking about altering the timeline here." Well...yeah. Wasn't that the point? "...I want you to have a backup plan." Of course he had a backup plan. At this point he could probably list them all by alphabetical order. Or...the story of the backup plan(s) Rodney never wanted to use to save 12 days 25 years 48000 years mankind.

WG's words: not a DC fic, it actually comes from my old fandom, SGA. i just... i enjoy the time loop shenanigans and the fixit nature of it (which needs fixing only bc i broke it shush), both tropes i adore reading (and writing, apparently)

Leaving The Light by TheCallOfTheSea

Jason is alive, but he has fallen. Can the Batfamily save him?

M&M's words: I enjoyed exploring Jason as a villain, but it wasn’t easy writing relentless angst! I still brought out his humanity in a way.

closet space by adelfie / @adelfie

“Hi,” she says in a breathless rush, then takes a moment to swallow and wet her lips. “I, uh, need your help?” “Are you dying?” “N-not exactly.” “Then you don’t need me,” comes Jason’s lazy, uninterested reply. The call ends with a click. . Steph doesn't know what's more embarrassing: that she's been locked in a closet during a party, or the fact that her "friends" aren't really her friends. And to top it all off, Jason's the only one who can come rescue her.

adelfie's words: I love that Steph isn't fighting a big bad villain -- there's something so soft and strong in realizing that other people's judgments aren't what truly matter.

penance by cuephrase / @cuephrase

After Tim dies, his soul remains stuck as a ghost at the Manor. Forced to watch Dick and Bruce grieve him and unable to do anything, the only thing making the afterlife bearable is Jason. Until the day his ghost departs.  Tim assumes that Jason has passed on. But then the Red Hood breaks into the Cave. And for the first time, someone can see Tim.

Cue's words: i just had an inordinately fun time writing it!! there was a lot of catharsis in the process, and i’m very proud of the ending because i feel like i was able to preserve the fic’s bittersweetness- like the happy ending didn’t dilute the sorrow and instead they were able to complement each other

two vigilantes carry a cake across gotham by JBS_Forever / @jbsforever

In a scheming attempt to make them bond, Bruce forces Jason and Tim on what should be a simple quest: retrieve Alfred’s birthday cake from across town and make it back before the party. But this is Gotham. And nothing is ever simple in Gotham.

JBS' words: it's a story that centers around jason learning just how much crime alley appreciates him. it's also a sibling bonding fic between jason and tim

Ghosts From The Past by red_jaebyrd / @red-jaebyrd

Tim stared at an old poster of the ‘The Flying Graysons’ and his stomach dropped. He immediately fixated on the young boy’s smiling face with his eyes bright and full of life; frozen in time in eternal happiness. It was such a sharp contrast to the last memory Tim had of the youngest Grayson laying broken and still on the circus floor. Tim sighed. He wasn’t just at any old circus. He was back at Haly’s Circus where his nightmares had started and never really stopped. Or Bruce is Ghost Hunter and takes Jason and Tim with him to investigate strange happenings at Haly's Circus.

Jae's words: I wanted to try and write my own version of a no capes au adding in my own lore about the characters and their new world.

sons of sky by ScarlettSwordMoon, Kiwilart / @kiwilart

Dick is thirteen, leader of the Teen Titans, and already starting to chaff under Bruce’s thumb. When Bruce gets de-aged to fourteen, Dick thinks this experience will finally bring their partnership back to working order. It doesn’t. And then it does.

Scarlett's words: This fic has challenged me in so many fun directions. It is terrifying and exhilarating to write young!Bruce and to really try my hand at a big novel length plot line. Of all my WIPs, this is the most fun to work on because I'm working with an artist, Kiwili, who supports me during the loneliest parts of the drafting process, and also draws amazing art for the fic. I'm very proud of what we've done so far and very excited to be close to finishing.

we'll meet again some sunny day by Ms_Trickster / @ms-trickster

When Talia rests a hand atop her bed, the sound of paper crunching beneath it fills her ears.

Missy's words: Talia is a character that deserves a lot more depth and affection and it was a blast to write a story in which she is loved.

[strawberryshortcake1495]

Here’s my personal interpretation of Dipper in my “The Summer Project” AU (loosely based off @urdadsceilingfan’s Reverse Portal AU)

Now this post is LONG overdue. As I’ve scoured the few posts I’ve made about my Summer Project AU, I noticed I unintentionally antagonized Dipper as this bad brother who’s too much of a wimp to protect his sister 😭 So I’m gonna try to shed some light on him, not to excuse his actions, but to simply show his side of the story.

Dipper had a rough childhood. He always had his twin sister, Mabel, but besides that, everyone was so mean to him. Some kids could stomach Mabel’s fun-loving personality but when it came to him, he was just some stupid nerd. He wasn’t happy with his life. That was until he met the Book Club. Other nerds who had the same interests as him, weirdos who loved the things that people would laugh at him about. And they weren’t shy like Dipper, they were proud of who they were and that inspired Dipper to join them. He tagged Mabel along and everything seemed great. But as Dipper grew older, his relationship with his sister began to change. This was due to the Book Club not being as friendly to Mabel as they were to him. It’s as if their status in school has changed. Now his sister was the weird outcast and he was the lovable dork. His heart ached for his best friend, but at the same time…it felt so good not to be the laughingstock for once. Whenever one of his friends would tease and openly bully Mabel, he’d get this tight feeling in his chest. His heart would beat loudly like thunder, and his breathing would quicken. In moments like those, he’d squeeze Mabel’s hand to provide some sort of comfort. For her, of course! If she was far away, he’d squeeze his own hand.

As summer was around the corner, he and his sister started getting into fights over the Book Club. Dipper was put in a rough position. Should he choose the people who made him feel wanted, or the person who made him feel loved? He didn’t get the chance to fully think this through, as his parents told him they were shipping he and Mabel off to Gravity Falls to stay with their Grunkle Ford. The night before they went on that bus, he overheard a conversation between his parents. A conversation he wasn’t supposed to hear. They were getting a divorce. He and Mabel could be separated. He couldn’t bear the thought of a life without his sister. Dipper didn’t get a lot of sleep that night, which resulted in him having an awful migraine the first day they stayed at Grunkle Ford’s museum. At night, Mabel brought him a cold glass of water and some pills she found in a cabinet. Dipper took the pills and drank the water. Big fat tears streamed down his face and he begged Mabel to stay by his side until he fell asleep. He squeezed her hand so tight it might’ve cut off her circulation. She sung a lullaby to help him sleep. The next day, he told her he cried because of how painful the migraine was. That was a lie.

The rest of the summer from then on was amazing. From crushing on that pretty lumberjack girl Wendy, solving mysteries with his sister, and growing close with his great uncle Ford, everything was great! Dipper never thought he’d see the day that he would be truly happy. He hoped the rest of the summer would be as great as this.

But then “Not What She Seems” rolls around. Dipper and Ford find out that Mabel is hiding something. She’s trying to bring back this weird demon guy named Bill Cipher. His great uncle Ford claimed the thing to be his biggest enemy. By the way he described their past, Dipper assumed Bill to be some crazy ex (but he’d never tell Ford that). He and Ford confront Mabel and she breaks down into tears. There’s that feeling again. The one that gnaws at his chest. The tightness. The pounding heart. The hyperventilating. No matter how hard he squeezes his own hand, the feeling doesn’t go away. Suddenly, he’s in the air and in front of him is the shutdown button for the portal. Ford begs him to turn it off. Mabel doesn’t try to defend herself, she just won’t stop crying. He can’t move. Why can’t he move? His ears ring. The only sound he can hear is the loud whirring of the portal. His chest feels WAY too tight, as if his lungs were collapsing in on itself. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He can’t br-

Suddenly, he’s blasted away as the portal activates and he hits the floor with a loud thump. Pain spreads from his spine up to his head. He wakes up surrounded by a pool of something wet…he realizes it’s blood. His own blood. Dipper panics and pulls himself up, probing a big wound on the back of his head with his hands. Ford runs to him and inspects the wound, his eyes filled with concern and care. Then there’s some footsteps. Dipper and Ford whip their heads towards the sound. Dipper thinks it’s Mabel. It’s not.

(design is by the silly @taco-del-taco)

Wholesome hc: The pine tree sweater Dipper wears is the first sweater that Mabel ever knitted. It ended up being too big for him back then but now it fits perfectly. Dipper knows Mabel isn’t too proud of her own sweater so he wears his to make her feel better about herself.

[contagious-addiction]

Clenching my hands so hard this book has so many breaches of decorum and a lack of titles for ancient china I can’t possibly get invested in this story-

Also me: Hehehe emperor flirting with flustered guy who thinks he’s handsome :) *kicks legs*

[freyito]

ꜰʀᴇʏᴀ ꜝ ⨟ ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, argenti sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, dan heng, gepard, caelus, welt (seperate) x reader

✩ inspo: this is fun to think about

✧ a/n: for those who don't know exactly what this means (also shoutout to freya the god of love), there are 3-5 'types' of (romantic) love. eros, romantic love, ludus, playful love, pragma, enduring love, and then there's mania which is obsessive love and agape which is universal love. The last two can sorta bend in a familiar or platonic way as well as romantic.

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, proofread

✎ wc: 3.3k

⎯ Aventurine

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Aventurine prefers to flirt, to have fun, be a little silly with his love. After all, life’s too short to not enjoy it. He wants a partner who will not only put up with his games but also join in and enjoy it, someone to tease who will tease back. He would love a deeper connection as well, but before that comes fun.

“Honey, I’m hooome~!” Aventurine calls from the apartment door, making his way to the kitchen. You weren’t cooking anything, simply sifting through the fridge for a snack. His arms wrap around your waist as the scent of his near overbearing cologne washes over you. He presses his lips to your neck and peppers it with a bunch of fleeting kisses, mumbling about his day into your skin even though you didn’t ask. When you dared to try and pull away, he only pulls you closer, pinching at your waist and grinning. “Awhhh, are you not happy to see me?”

He doesn’t give you time to reply, hauling you up and turning on his heels. You don’t get to complain, not before he practically throws you on the bed and throws himself onto you. He wastes no time finding your most ticklish spots, waiting for you to ask for mercy. “I want a proper welcome home!” He exclaims, like you hadn't given him enough attention. Not like you can do what he wants while you do your best not to laugh, squirming underneath him, trying to break free from his tickle attack.

⎯ Dr. Ratio

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. While Ratio isn’t necessarily the best at showing his affection, he is head over heels for you. Absolutely and irrevocably in love, and it only grows with each passing day. He’s quite the gentleman when you get past his cold demeanor, and is quite by-the-book.

You had met him in his classroom after his classes, to give him the lunch you had made him. He regards you with a brisk ‘mh’, You are used to this reaction, and you don’t take it to heart. He tells you he’ll be home a little later, and apologizes. Silence stretches between you two before you tell him it’s alright and start to leave the room.

“I am sorry, my love,” He grabs your wrist before you can fully turn around. He presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, eyes locked on yours as he apologizes. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Dinner tomorrow.” He’s so blunt with it, like you have no choice. But he says it with such sincerity, an emotion that is hard to get from him. His eyes linger with yours as you nod, before letting you go and returning to grading his student’s papers.

⎯ Boothill

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Boothill loves with his whole heart, but he just can’t take it seriously. He’s always teasing you, whether it be sultry words, little touches, anything. He loves making you blush.

Tonight, you two are at some bar he had dragged you to, and it’s quite lively. Which gives Boothill ample time to show you off, his arm around your shoulders or your waist whenever someone comes up to talk to you or him. He leans in ever so closer with that toothy grin, eyes half-lidded as he whispers something about how cute you look tonight. When he sees even the tiniest blush begin to bloom, he amps up his flirting tenfold.

Over the entire night, he makes little comments that turn into big flourishes of his love for you, small, teasing touches that trail from your shoulder down to your hands, interlocking your fingers. He leans in close and whispers against your ear, not necessarily just flirts, literally anything he can think of, like that you guys need to put soda on the grocery list or something. It’s the way his breath fans over your ear that causes goosebumps to riddle skin. You try and hide your blushing face, but he grabs your chin and tilts your head to meet his gaze, using his hat to shield your faces from the rest of the patrons and pressing a kiss to your lips.

⎯ Gallagher

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. While Gallagher may not sound like it, he’s romantic by heart and looks for a partner he can spend his life with. He wants to settle down, enjoy something that lasts. And he prefers a partner that does the same.

He was lounging on the couch at home, a rare sight normally. When you walked into the living room, he greeted you with a lazy smile, reaching for you like he wasn’t a 30 something year old man. He grabbed your wrist and guided you into his arms with a yawn, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. He lets out a deep, rumbling ‘mmm’ as he does so, sharing no other words.

Any time you try to break free from his hold, whether you wanna eat or need to go to the bathroom, he groans. He doesn’t say much, whispering quiet ‘love yous’ here and there, and if you really do have to get up, he practically follows you around. He’s rarely ever clingy, he’s probably one of the most independent people you know. He’s only like this when he has something on his mind, and marriage isn’t exactly a far off thought…

⎯ Sunday

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. Sunday is a textbook romantic. A dinner and a movie, roses, have you home by ten, he’s the whole package. Anything you could want, you will have. There’s always a fresh bouquet of flowers in the vase in your living room, and perhaps a new poem for/about you every month.

Whatever he gave you in reality, he gave you tenfold in the Dreamscape (especially since he can). This includes his affection, where you two are hidden away… somewhere in Dewlight Pavillion. Somewhere where Sunday promises no one will find you two. It’s not as if you two are doing something lewd, he’s nestled up against your chest, that’s about it. But, he’s been yearning for some time alone with you since forever. With how busy he has been, he hadn’t got a moment alone with you.

“I missed you.” He states. His work is secondary to this moment, as he grabs your hand and presses a kiss to your palm, before nuzzling his cheek into it, all the while his eyes stay on yours. He has you flustered by the way he does it so desperately, yet so… carefully. He needed this, but he didn’t want to allow himself to lose his composure. So, the best he could do was steal you away when you were bringing him his mail, leave you breathless with a few tender kisses and gentle touches, and lead you back to your way out of the Pavillion.

⎯ Argenti

AGAPE ; UNIVERSAL LOVE. Love, devotion, and worship go hand in hand in hand for Argenti. He loves with his heart, body, mind, and soul. He loves unconditionally, every little bit of you, even the ground you walk on. Where the water wet your skin, where the dirt kissed your hands, he loves and loves and loves.

You two are dancing in your kitchen, to a soundless beat. The only rhythm coming from your barely-heard footsteps and the clank of Argenti’s armor as he shares such a moment with you. It is rare that he is home, always out on some adventure across star systems, but it is always a celebration when he is. Atleast, he makes it a celebration. Laughter fills the room as you try your best to keep up with his steps, the man elegant and flawless, as usual, while you stumble just a tick behind.

“You’ve got it, I know you do.” Argenti coos as you do your best to fall into his steps, still stumbling every so often. He dips you down, eyes searching yours with that content smile plastered on his face, before he pulls you up and chest-to-chest with him. His eyes sparkle with mirth, spinning you two around as if your kitchen was a real and proper ballroom, swaying gently. His eyes closed then, humming some tune, a song lost to time that only he remembered. He had hummed it on your longest days and on your darkness nights, the days you weeped and sobbed in his arms, and the days you had turned to him with such a bright smile. A tune that resembled something homely.

⎯Sampo Koski

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. While Sampo can be quite the romantic, he prefers to tease and play with you instead. Sure, he could dance with you all night long, bring you fresh roses everyday, but where’s the fun in that? He finds it much more fitting to flirt with you on end, brag a little about his ‘sales’, splurge a little for you every now and then.

You walk into your bedroom to find Sampo laying on his side, his head propped up with his hand, a rose in his mouth. He gives you a mock-sultry glare while you stand there, dumbfounded, halfway between disgust and laughter. Rose petals decorate the bed, and the room, and you tell yourself that you’ll have to remind him later that he’ll be cleaning it up.

For now, though, he beckons you closer, and when you do, he pulls you onto the bed quickly, spitting out the rose, and peppering your face with kisses. The room fills with laughter as you do your best to break away, but he continues this torrent of kisses, rarely taking a breath. When you complain that ‘it’s too much!’ he only ups the ante, kissing your neck, your shoulder, any exposed skin he can find. You simply just have to accept your fate, now…

⎯ Jing Yuan

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. He who has waited for an eternity yearns for an eternity spent in one’s arms. Jing Yuan has lost most of those dear to him, if not all. While he knows life will reach its end, he cannot help but wish he had someone to spend the rest of it with.

It is very rare for Jing Yuan to be free for even an hour, and yet here he was, a whole day to himself. He’s lounging in his room, basking in the sun while you lay in his arms, reading a book. You two barely share any words, yet the silence between says it all. It’s a comfortable feeling, something that feels like home, something he cherishes every second of. It’s one thing to find home within the Xianzhou, but it’s another to find home in someone’s arms.

He tilts his head as he looks down at the book your reading, contemplating if he wanted to pull your attention away from the book, or not. With a soft ‘hmph’, he makes his decision to leave you alone, choosing to nuzzle into your hair instead. You don’t react, which he doesn’t mind, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer as he closes his eyes. Perhaps an afternoon nap would do him some good…

⎯ Blade

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Not even death could keep Blade away from you. His own suicidal tendencies, his never-ending want to die, his need to die, his own voice begging for a means to an end, it all washes away when he sees your smile, as if the sun is greeting him once more after such a wretched eclipse.

He knows he has loved in the past, and yet when he recalls that feeling, Blade is only met with a burning feeling akin to rage clawing its way through his chest. He prefers to not think about it much, focusing on Elio’s script and whatever mission he’s been dispatched on. Yet, when he’s met with you laying in his bed, messing with his phone, waiting for him, a different kind of feeling weaves its way into his heart. Something warm, a kindling, of sorts.

His own voice quiets when he allows himself to feel that feeling, peace, perhaps? He’s quick to brush it off, shove it down along with any other emotion that was daring to well up, and takes a seat next to you. When you look up and beckon him closer, he doesn’t accept. But, he does lean in, and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. It’s a rare display, you can’t remember the last time he even dared to hold your hand. And before you can question him, he’s gone, out of the room, leaving his phone behind, like always.

⎯ Luocha

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. Luocha is quite the romantic when he wants to be. Since he spends most of his time wandering, he doesn’t get to see you very often. But when he returns home, he loves nothing more than to share stories of his travels and hold you in his arms. You are his anchor, what brings him back to reality when his thoughts drift to the distant churches and candle wicks that give way to angry flames…

He finds you sleeping on the couch, phone in hand, twitching every now and then, but making no real reaction to any sound. It was clear that you were waiting for Luocha to come home, and had succumbed to sleep. Luocha had texted you 4 days ago that he would be home, and you yourself had no idea how long you had been up, the past couple of days had skewed your perception of time. By now, it was around 3:00 am.

With a soft huff and an even softer gaze, Luocha scoops you up into his arms and carries you to your shared bed. He’s careful, doing his best to be as quiet as possible as he carries you, but you still wake up. You mutter a slurred ‘Luocha?’, and all he does is shush you, shaking his head and greeting you with a warm smile. You don’t get time to protest as he lays you down on the bed, giving you a soft kiss on your forehead, before turning on his heel and exiting the room. He will join you later, as much as he wants to lay beside you now, he’d like to get settled back in, first.

⎯ Dan Heng

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Dan Heng tends to retreat into himself, a lot. Ever since he revisited the Xianzhou, this has become a habit of his. He doesn’t exactly push you away, but his ‘time to think’ seems to overtake your guys’ alone time. Regardless of it all, he always comes back to you, finding home safe in your arms.

He wakes in the dead of night, his past life’s memories catching up to him once more. He doesn’t cry or scream, his breath is shallow, as he listens to the silence of the hotel you two were staying at. He stills for a moment, the scars of the past fading into a blissful nothingness, before he looks down at you. Sleeping peacefully, completely unbothered by Dan Heng’s sudden awakening.

His body relaxes as his mind quiets finally, the simple sight of you reminding him that the past is the past, and nothing more matters right now. He settles back into bed, taking a moment to admire your face, hesitantly reaching out. His fingers brush against your cheek, trailing to your hairline, tucking a strand behind your ear. You don’t even flinch, but you instinctively curl up closer to him. Dan Heng graces your sleeping form with a rare smile and a huff, before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.

⎯ Gepard

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. While Gepard may be shy about certain things, that doesn’t mean he is lacking in the romance department. His job may keep him away from you for quite a while, but he always finds his way back to you.

It had been quite a while since you and Gepard had a proper date, or even night out. Oftentimes, he’d come home late into the night, too exhausted to even eat, and all he would want to do is cuddle up next to you in bed. He loves his job, he truly does, even if it means coming home at near 2 am and waking up at 5 am. Of course he wants to spend as much time with you, but some days are harder than others, and he wants to stay as healthy as he can.

Tonight, however, he’s come home early. At 6 pm to be exact. A completely normal time to get off work… if he wasn’t the captain of the Silvermane Guards. Before you can even ask why he’s home so early, he hurriedly asks you out on a date. His face is only slightly flushed, and the minute you say yes, he lights up like the sun peeking through the clouds on a rainy day. He takes you out to one of the nicest, fanciest restaurants in Belobog, and he just cannot contain the giddy smile all throughout the night. He stares at you as if you are straight out of a movie, eyes practically shining everytime you laugh.

⎯ Caelus

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Caelus doesn’t take himself too seriously, even if there’s a stellaron housed inside of him. So why take love too seriously…? Not that he doesn’t love you, no, he adores you. But between all this trailblazing and saving planets and researching stellarons and what not, he doesn’t get much of a chance to be a little silly. And you, luckily, are his escape from that.

He barges into your room with the brightest smile known to man, his hair a little messy, and what you can only hope is soot dusting his cheeks and hands. Caelus looks so proud. Too proud. In his hands he holds what looks to be a worn out raccoon plushie, also blessed with a heavy dusting of soot. You stare at him blankly as he does not explain himself, simply waltzing over to your bed.

“Our son.” He states, so proudly, as if he had brought the thing into the world on his own. Desperately in need of some fun today, you play along, telling him ‘our son needs a bath.’ And Caelus looks at you as if you have offended his entire lineage (which, apparently, is two people now.) He jokingly chastises you for calling your son ‘dirty’, and “How could you say that to him!?” “He’s just a baby!”. Though, eventually after hours and hours of him threatening to put his sooty hands all over you, he washes the stuffed raccoon. And himself.

⎯ Welt

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Welt has seen lifetimes pass, and lifetimes more come into the universe. He’s vowed to himself to love whoever comes into his life as long as he loves, to love hard and never back down. He dreams of church bells ringing while the scent of roses fill the air, rather than the mournful gong of those ringing bells, signaling someone's end, or the bittersweet smell of lilies.

He holds you closely tonight, practically bathing in your cologne, eyes closed as he hums a tune from some far off timeline. It is a quiet, tender moment, one that is very rare between the two of you. Welt could spend all his time on the Astral Express and still never have enough time for you. He is greedy in that way, seeking any time he can with you, even if it is only for 5 minutes.

He himself doesn’t know why he’s feel especially wanting tonight, but he doesn’t busy his mind asking himself why. Time and space is infinite even as constricting as it feels, and he knows better than to keep himself occupied with such silly questions. The day he catches himself not missing you, yearning for you, is the day that he will wither into stardust.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[mygnolia]

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

[derinwrites]

The Three Commandments

The thing about writing is this: you gotta start in medias res, to hook your readers with action immediately. But readers aren’t invested in people they know nothing about, so start with a framing scene that instead describes the characters and the stakes. But those scenes are boring, so cut straight to the action, after opening with a clever quip, but open in the style of the story, and try not to be too clever in the opener, it looks tacky. One shouldn’t use too many dialogue tags, it’s distracting; but you can use ‘said’ a lot, because ‘said’ is invisible, but don’t use ‘said’ too much because it’s boring and uninformative – make sure to vary your dialogue tags to be as descriptive as possible, except don’t do that because it’s distracting, and instead rely mostly on ‘said’ and only use others when you need them. But don’t use ‘said’ too often; you should avoid dialogue tags as much as you possibly can and indicate speakers through describing their reactions. But don’t do that, it’s distracting.

Having a viewpoint character describe themselves is amateurish, so avoid that. But also be sure to describe your viewpoint character so that the reader can picture them. And include a lot of introspection, so we can see their mindset, but don’t include too much introspection, because it’s boring and takes away from the action and really bogs down the story, but also remember to include plenty of introspection so your character doesn’t feel like a robot. And adverbs are great action descriptors; you should have a lot of them, but don’t use a lot of adverbs; they’re amateurish and bog down the story. And

The reason new writers are bombarded with so much outright contradictory writing advice is that these tips are conditional. It depends on your style, your genre, your audience, your level of skill, and what problems in your writing you’re trying to fix. Which is why, when I’m writing, I tend to focus on what I call my Three Commandments of Writing. These are the overall rules; before accepting any writing advice, I check whether it reinforces one of these rules or not. If not, I ditch it.

1: Thou Shalt Have Something To Say

What’s your book about?

I don’t mean, describe to me the plot. I mean, why should anybody read this? What’s its thesis? What’s its reason for existence, from the reader’s perspective? People write stories for all kinds of reasons, but things like ‘I just wanted to get it out of my head’ are meaningless from a reader perspective. The greatest piece of writing advice I ever received was you putting words on a page does not obligate anybody to read them. So why are the words there? What point are you trying to make?

The purpose of your story can vary wildly. Usually, you’ll be exploring some kind of thesis, especially if you write genre fiction. Curse Words, for example, is an exploration of self-perpetuating power structures and how aiming for short-term stability and safety can cause long-term problems, as well as the responsibilities of an agitator when seeking to do the necessary work of dismantling those power structures. Most of the things in Curse Words eventually fold back into exploring this question. Alternately, you might just have a really cool idea for a society or alien species or something and want to show it off (note: it can be VERY VERY HARD to carry a story on a ‘cool original concept’ by itself. You think your sky society where they fly above the clouds and have no rainfall and have to harvest water from the clouds below is a cool enough idea to carry a story: You’re almost certainly wrong. These cool concept stories work best when they are either very short, or working in conjunction with exploring a theme). You might be writing a mystery series where each story is a standalone mystery and the point is to present a puzzle and solve a fun mystery each book. Maybe you’re just here to make the reader laugh, and will throw in anything you can find that’ll act as framing for better jokes. In some genres, readers know exactly what they want and have gotten it a hundred times before and want that story again but with different character names – maybe you’re writing one of those. (These stories are popular in romance, pulp fantasy, some action genres, and rather a lot of types of fanfiction).

Whatever the main point of your story is, you should know it by the time you finish the first draft, because you simply cannot write the second draft if you don’t know what the point of the story is. (If you write web serials and are publishing the first draft, you’ll need to figure it out a lot faster.)

Once you know what the point of your story is, you can assess all writing decisions through this lens – does this help or hurt the point of my story?

2: Thou Shalt Respect Thy Reader’s Investment

Readers invest a lot in a story. Sometimes it’s money, if they bought your book, but even if your story is free, they invest time, attention, and emotional investment. The vast majority of your job is making that investment worth it. There are two factors to this – lowering the investment, and increasing the payoff. If you can lower your audience’s suspension of disbelief through consistent characterisation, realistic (for your genre – this may deviate from real realism) worldbuilding, and appropriately foreshadowing and forewarning any unexpected rules of your world. You can lower the amount of effort or attention your audience need to put into getting into your story by writing in a clear manner, using an entertaining tone, and relying on cultural touchpoints they understand already instead of pushing them in the deep end into a completely unfamiliar situation. The lower their initial investment, the easier it is to make the payoff worth it.

Two important notes here: one, not all audiences view investment in the same way. Your average reader views time as a major investment, but readers of long fiction (epic fantasies, web serials, et cetera) often view length as part of the payoff. Brandon Sanderson fans don’t grab his latest book and think “Uuuugh, why does it have to be so looong!” Similarly, some people like being thrown in the deep end and having to put a lot of work into figuring out what the fuck is going on with no onboarding. This is one of science fiction’s main tactics for forcibly immersing you in a future world. So the valuation of what counts as too much investment varies drastically between readers.

Two, it’s not always the best idea to minimise the necessary investment at all costs. Generally, engagement with art asks something of us, and that’s part of the appeal. Minimum-effort books do have their appeal and their place, in the same way that idle games or repetitive sitcoms have their appeal and their place, but the memorable stories, the ones that have staying power and provide real value, are the ones that ask something of the reader. If they’re not investing anything, they have no incentive to engage, and you’re just filling in time. This commandment does not exist to tell you to try to ask nothing of your audience – you should be asking something of your audience. It exists to tell you to respect that investment. Know what you’re asking of your audience, and make sure that the ask is less than the payoff.

The other way to respect the investment is of course to focus on a great payoff. Make those characters socially fascinating, make that sacrifice emotionally rending, make the answer to that mystery intellectually fulfilling. If you can make the investment worth it, they’ll enjoy your story. And if you consistently make their investment worth it, you build trust, and they’ll be willing to invest more next time, which means you can ask more of them and give them an even better payoff. Audience trust is a very precious currency and this is how you build it – be worth their time.

But how do you know what your audience does and doesn’t consider an onerous investment? And how do you know what kinds of payoff they’ll find rewarding? Easy – they self-sort. Part of your job is telling your audience what to expect from you as soon as you can, so that if it’s not for them, they’ll leave, and if it is, they’ll invest and appreciate the return. (“Oh but I want as many people reading my story as possible!” No, you don’t. If you want that, you can write paint-by-numbers common denominator mass appeal fic. What you want is the audience who will enjoy your story; everyone else is a waste of time, and is in fact, detrimental to your success, because if they don’t like your story then they’re likely to be bad marketing. You want these people to bounce off and leave before you disappoint them. Don’t try to trick them into staying around.) Your audience should know, very early on, what kind of an experience they’re in for, what the tone will be, the genre and character(s) they’re going to follow, that sort of thing. The first couple of chapters of Time to Orbit: Unknown, for example, are a micro-example of the sorts of mysteries that Aspen will be dealing with for most of the book, as well as a sample of their character voice, the way they approach problems, and enough of their background, world and behaviour for the reader to decide if this sort of story is for them. We also start the story with some mildly graphic medical stuff, enough physics for the reader to determine the ‘hardness’ of the scifi, and about the level of physical risk that Aspen will be putting themselves at for most of the book. This is all important information for a reader to have.

If you are mindful of the investment your readers are making, mindful of the value of the payoff, and honest with them about both from the start so that they can decide whether the story is for them, you can respect their investment and make sure they have a good time.

3: Thou Shalt Not Make Thy World Less Interesting

This one’s really about payoff, but it’s important enough to be its own commandment. It relates primarily to twists, reveals, worldbuilding, and killing off storylines or characters. One mistake that I see new writers make all the time is that they tank the engagement of their story by introducing a cool fun twist that seems so awesome in the moment and then… is a major letdown, because the implications make the world less interesting.

“It was all a dream” twists often fall into this trap. Contrary to popular opinion, I think these twists can be done extremely well. I’ve seen them done extremely well. The vast majority of the time, they’re very bad. They’re bad because they take an interesting world and make it boring. The same is true of poorly thought out, shocking character deaths – when you kill a character, you kill their potential, and if they’re a character worth killing in a high impact way then this is always a huge sacrifice on your part. Is it worth it? Will it make the story more interesting? Similarly, if your bad guy is going to get up and gloat ‘Aha, your quest was all planned by me, I was working in the shadows to get you to acquire the Mystery Object since I could not! You have fallen into my trap! Now give me the Mystery Object!’, is this a more interesting story than if the protagonist’s journey had actually been their own unmanipulated adventure? It makes your bad guy look clever and can be a cool twist, but does it mean that all those times your protagonist escaped the bad guy’s men by the skin of his teeth, he was being allowed to escape? Are they retroactively less interesting now?

Whether these twists work or not will depend on how you’ve constructed the rest of your story. Do they make your world more or less interesting?

If you have the audience’s trust, it’s permissible to make your world temporarily less interesting. You can kill off the cool guy with the awesome plan, or make it so that the Chosen One wasn’t actually the Chosen One, or even have the main character wake up and find out it was all a dream, and let the reader marinate in disappointment for a little while before you pick it up again and turn things around so that actually, that twist does lead to a more interesting story! But you have to pick it up again. Don’t leave them with the version that’s less interesting than the story you tanked for the twist. The general slop of interest must trend upward, and your sacrifices need to all lead into the more interesting world. Otherwise, your readers will be disappointed, and their experience will be tainted.

Whenever I’m looking at a new piece of writing advice, I view it through these three rules. Is this plot still delivering on the book’s purpose, or have I gone off the rails somewhere and just stared writing random stuff? Does making this character ‘more relateable’ help or hinder that goal? Does this argument with the protagonists’ mother tell the reader anything or lead to any useful payoff; is it respectful of their time? Will starting in medias res give the audience an accurate view of the story and help them decide whether to invest? Does this big twist that challenges all the assumptions we’ve made so far imply a world that is more or less interesting than the world previously implied?

Hopefully these can help you, too.

[peachigummi]

here's a lesson ✎ mattheo riddle.

summary: classic mattheo coming to terms with how he feels about reader. slytherins are having a formal party - and guess what! someone else asks reader to the party, making him jealous!! mattheo tells them it’s a bad idea. yet, they still decide to go through with it. he obviously takes the opportunity to smugly watch from afar while trying to have fun himself. he’ll teach you a thing or two about what happens when you don’t listen to him 🤭🤭.

pairing: tutor / best friend! mattheo x fem! reader (one use of “y/n”)

warnings: mainly banter, mild jealousy (aka not too insanely toxic), mentions of alcohol/weed, spanking, spitting (one mention of it), fingering, unprotected piv, missionary (if it’s hard to imagine the position), pillow princess action ✨ (I’ll say this again, personally, ME, personally, me and I, could not ever let this slide when it comes to Mattheo, im too feral.), overstimulation, dacryphilia (i do think our dear matty would kinda really be into it), choking, eh kind of edging, praise!, creampie 🫣🤭🤭

note:  im very sorry for not keeping my word about putting this out before my trip with my buds. althoughhhh i brought my laptop with me and here i am c: working on this for yall. i really hope you enjoy this, its a lengthy read because i just love tension so much.

word count: 11k+ (partially why this took so long to post im so sorry. lots of plot)

(trust i will never perfectly proofread my work at this point)

mattheo told me that he expects you to reblog, like & comment so you better do it. do you want to make him mad? (BWAHAHA jk...unless 🤨)

°. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

Mattheo and you were seated on one of the sunny courtyard tables, papers and books displayed all out on the flat surface. You were distracted by your phone, paying little focus on the task at hand. You let out small laughs and smiles, Mattheo was watching you for a while now wondering what the hell was wrong with you. You would snort and shake your head, sighing to yourself. He didn’t like that someone or something was distracting you from him and your studies..of course the studies were more important despite listing himself first. He leaned over to grab your chin, forcing you to turn and face up at him, “pay attention.” Mattheo hissed.

You couldn’t help but blush as he did this, making you look into his deep brown eyes, “I’m sorry Mattheo…”

A small smirk appears on his face when he notices you blush, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. “You should be. You’re too distracted on that damn phone.” He continues to hold your chin in place.

“I was just asked out on a date…I mean I think it’s a date…” you move his hand away from your face, going back to your phone. You scroll up on the message thread and push it toward him to look over.

Mattheo’s smirk vanished and was replaced with a look of irritation, first when you pulled away from him, and secondly, after reading the message exchange. He pushes your phone back at you, looking at your eyes with annoyance. “Why would he do that? Why would you say yes?” He asked with a snarky tone, clearly not pleased about you being asked out by someone else.

Mattheo had been your tutor at first, but eventually you both became close friends through the forced proximity. Your grades were much higher because of him, and despite not needing him as much for that purpose - you both still hung out with each other. To be truthful and completely honest with yourself, it was because you had a fat crush on him…but it never turned into anything more. So you just enjoyed being his friend.

You decided to jump back into the dating scene after the unsuccessful attempt (as if you even tried confess to Mattheo and turn your relationship into something more; you needed him to make the first move), but it was a struggle because well…you were with Mattheo most of the time. At this point people thought that you had an open relationship, where he’s the one going on dates with different girls and not you. People didn’t approach you, not romantically. So naturally, you were in a state of giggling surprise when you were asked out. 

“It’s Charlie…do you know him? Yay big, muscular, dark headed, dreamy bedroom eyes…he’s a Ravenclaw.” You describe him while showing Mattheo goofy photos of Charlie that he had sent you.

He clenched his jaw, clearly not liking the way you described him. He pushed your phone away again, not wanting to see more of the guy. “Yeah, I know him. He’s in my class.” He said coldly, looking at your eyes with irritation. 

“Really - what’s he like in it?” You leaned into Mattheo, excited for more information on Charlie.

“Why would you want to go out on a date with him?” Mattheo ignored your question. 

“Why not? It’s been so long since I’ve been with someone…” you rolled your eyes, “you wouldn’t understand since you’re always going out.”

He huffed as soon as you mentioned him going on dates. It wasn’t exactly untrue, but the fact that you were going out on a date with someone else now annoyed him more than he’d like to admit. “Because you could do so much better than him and besides, who says I always go on dates?” Mattheo crossed his arms, looking slightly defensive.

Yeah - like I could be dating you!

You let out a sigh. “Mattheo don’t even play games with me right now. You literally went on a date with my childhood best friend last week! And you knew how much that pissed me off.”

He couldn’t help but wince slightly as you brought that up, clearly regretting it. “Okay fine. And? That was last week.”

“I heard from a little owl that Margie has been begging you to take her to her grandfather’s funeral as a date!” You blurt out almost laughing, “can you imagine how insane that sounds!? Bless her grandfather, may he rest in peace…but goddamn Mattheo, these girls are shameless when it comes to you.”

He rolled his eyes, he had to admit, he couldn’t believe just how desperate some girls were when it came to him. “Yeah, don’t remind me. I’ve told her multiple times that I don't want to go with her, but she just won't listen. She’s persistent as hell!” 

You nudged his side playfully, “you’ve got to admit it’s kind of funny though.” You smile at him. It was easy to get him frustrated, but at the end of the day you didn’t want him to feel that way. It was bad on the body to be so angry all the time.

He groaned, but couldn't hold back his chuckle. “Yeah I suppose it is a little funny…and annoying. Mostly annoying.” Mattheo said in a slightly lighter tone. While he did love to have girls practically throwing themselves at him all the time, it did get to be too much sometimes.

“But yeah…Charlie asked me if I wanted to go to our own Slytherin party…like duh I was already going!” You paused going back to your notes, comparing them to Mattheo’s, “I mean could you imagine me turning him down and still having to see him in my own common room?”

He huffed again, not liking how you brought the conversation back to Charlie. “Well you could’ve at least pretended to think about it. Don’t want him to get the wrong idea.” He really didn’t like the idea of you going to this party with him, but he didn’t want to come off as too possessive either.

“Wrong idea? I think I like him. He’s funny…smart..and seems nice enough.” You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at your notes, “no one ever approaches me…they’re too afraid of you.”

Mattheo’s eyes narrow slightly when you admit this, and when you list what his good qualities were. He clenched his jaw, “What, you mean you actually like him? Really?” There was a hint of jealousy in his voice that he couldn’t quite completely hide.

“Oh c’mon Matty, it’s not a crime.” You put your hand behind his back, rubbing circles to calm him down. “Let me just take a chance. If things go bad then you can rub it in my face okay? You can tell me that I was ~dumb~ that you were ~right~” You say in a singsong voice, knowing how much he liked teasing you when it came to showing how much better he was than you.

He couldn’t fight staying irritated when you touched him like that. It was slowly calming him down, “fine, fine. I’ll let you have a chance with this guy.” He spits one last time. “If things go bad I am most definitely going to rub it in your face. I guess I’ll have to go to this party to watch you.”

“That’s my boy.” You put your head on his shoulder before returning to your notes, “Now how do I pronounce this incantation?”

 °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

Once you finished your studying together, you both walked to the great hall to have dinner. You were both back to your usual joking selves. You sat down at the Slytherin table, there was a louder buzz than usual, everyone seemed excited for the weekend to start.

“I guess everyone’s excited for tomorrow.” Mattheo said, watching you sit down first before he did.

“I have this new dress just for the event too! I love how there’s a solid theme this time around. It’ll be fun to see everyone dressed up all spiffy.” You say excitedly, being easily influenced by everyone’s energy. You grabbed Mattheo’s plate, serving him his food first before grabbing something for yourself.

 “Oh, a new dress? I bet it looks good on you.” He smiled at your excitement, but he was still feeling slightly annoyed and worried at your choice of date. He tried not showing it. He watched as you served him his food, his eyes unable to hide his affection he had for you. You always took good care of him. He took a deep breath before speaking. “I don't want anything bad to happen to you at this party. I know you’re excited and everything, but just be careful alright? I’ll be there watching but…I’m going to be outnumbered. There’s going to be lots of people and not all of them are good.”

You notice his change. You set his plate down in front of him and feel his forehead with the back of your hand. “Mattheo are you okay?”

He batted your hand away when you checked his forehead, clearly not liking being fussed over. “I’m fine. I just…don't trust other guys around you. They’re animals and they might try something with you, especially since you’re going to wear this new dress that you’re so excited about…” He could just imagine the looks you’d be getting already.

“Oh stop it Mattheo. I appreciate your concern, but it has nothing to go with the dress. Literally everyone is going to be dressed up, it’s going to be fancy. Here, if it makes you feel any better I can show you my dress beforehand for your approval.” You try hard to keep yourself from rolling your eyes, Mattheo had good intentions but he didn’t need to worry.

He smirked, he liked the idea of being the one to approve your dress, even though he knew he was being overbearing and overprotective. “Yeah, I think that would make me feel better. I mean, I need to make sure the dress is appropriate and not too revealing, you know?” He couldn’t help but relish having that power over you.

“It really isn’t though, it’s perfect and beautiful. It shows the perfect amount of skin to make it fun.” You bite your finger and wink at him. You took your own plate now, choosing your usuals.

Mattheo watched as you filled your plate, his eyes unable to resist roaming over your body for a moment as you leaned over the table, “perfect amount of skin, huh? I’ll be the judge of that.”

You knew that Mattheo was staring at you, so you wiggle your hips a little before sitting down. You smack the side of his head when he continues gawking, “tame yourself, Riddle.” He chuckled when you did this. He was going to make a snarky remark when Theodore came over and interrupted you both.

“GUYS PLEASE!” Theodore said, putting an arm around each of you, “hurry up and finish eating, I need help with the common room set up.”

“Damn it, Theo, can’t you just wait? We’ll help you set up the common room, just give us a break for now.” He didn’t like being interrupted when he was enjoying your presence.

You look at him, “Teddy, we still have a full day. Don’t be so worried. You’ll have more hands to help you now that everyone is done with Friday classes.” Theodore wanted to lead this event, he had complained for too long that Slytherins needed to reestablish a sense of powerful class and elegance. “You’re looking pale. Come sit, eat. You can’t miss your own party.” You pull Theodore down to sit in between Mattheo and you.

Theodore slumped down in the seat, grumbling about how stressed he was about the party. “I just want everything to be perfect, okay? This party needs to be one to be remembered, we can’t be known for having sleazy ones. Ugh…who am I kidding, knowing our house, everything is going to turn out terrible -”

“Teddy, no it’s not.” You take his plate, filling it with different proteins to give him energy. “Look around, everyone is excited. They’ll all be more than willing to help. We all know this party is going to be different from the rest.” You hug him after setting his plate down. 

He looks around the Great Hall, feeling the buzz. “I guess you’re right.” He looked down at his plate and began to eat, taking your advice to give himself some energy. 

You couldn't help but ruffle his hair knowing how stressed he was, “please take care of yourself okay? We’ll help. Mattheo and I will go with you after this.” Theo didn’t mind the hair ruffle, he actually cracked a smile at your concern for him and the fact that you were trying to take care of him when he wasn’t. If it wasn’t for Mattheo’s not so subtle possession over you, Theo would have made you his by now. 

You lean backwards over to slap Mattheo’s arm subtly so he could say some words of encouragement. 

“Damn it, woman, quit slapping me.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, rubbing his arm where you had slapped him, giving you a mock-hurt look. You glare at him, go on say something nice! “Alright, alright. Look, Theo, you’ve always have great ideas for stuff like this. This party will be a success, okay? Just relax and take it easy, we want to see you at your own party tomorrow.” He was sounding a bit mocking, but he was sincere.

You smile at him, pleased with his words. 

Draco suddenly popped up in front of the group, “which should I wear…!” He looked nearly as panicked as Theodore did. The three of you looked at the two suits he was holding up. They were literally identical down to the cufflinks. You wanted to snort. 

“Seriously, Draco? Those suits look exactly the same. Just close your eyes and pick one, geez.” Mattheo spoke up, finding it amusing how ridiculous Draco was over such a trivial thing. You were trying your hardest to hold in your laugh, your mouth was cupped by your hand. 

“You guys suck.” Draco said before making his way to Astoria. We watched as she looked just as confused as we did, but she pointed at one of them. He visibly looked immediately relaxed. Draco was hopeless sometimes.

“Seriously, Draco can be such a drama queen sometimes. He couldn’t even pick an outfit without needing Astoria’s help. He’s so dependent on her sometimes.”

“I kinda love that for them though…” You stared at the two love birds before returning to your plate, rolling the grape around with your fork. 

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, giving you a smirk. “You’re such a hopeless romantic. Always swooning over other couples and their lovey-dovey moments.” He felt a little pang of guilt, for not allowing another man to get close to you so you could experience that. We shook his head when he thought about that, trying to get rid of the feeling.

“Shut up Mattheo.” You stabbed the grape, putting it into your mouth begrudgingly. As you did so you looked toward the Ravenclaw table, seeing that Charlie was already staring at you. You wondered for how long he was watching you. You blushed and waved.

Mattheo let out a soft sigh, he enjoyed knowing he could rile you up with his teasing. He followed your gaze and saw you looking at Charlie, who was staring at you lovesick. “Oh great, there’s your lover boy, looking at you like a lost puppy.” He snickered, hating it.

You dropped your smile when you pried your eyes off Charlie, “blah blah blah.” Mattheo was lucky Theodore was still silently munching on his food in between you two, or it would have earned him another smack on the head or an ear pull. “And who are you taking as your date?”

He just shrugged, “I literally made the decision to go to this party once I found out you were going… with someone. I will have to just go solo.” He said with a smirk, clearly enjoying the idea of being able to flirt with other girls without the constraints of being tied down to a date, “that way I can have freedom to do whatever I want.” He felt that pang of guilt again for his hypocrisy.

“Fair enough.” You knew how much he liked to flirt, it boosted his ego. “Just don’t get beat up when you hit on the wrong girl. I won't be there to stop that fight, I wouldn’t want to ruin my hair and dress.”

He laughed, amused with your warning. “Please, doll. I know how to pick the right girls to flirt with. I’m not worried about getting beat up by their partners. They always fall for my charm.” He said, clearly confident with his ability to charm anyone, even those with jealous partners.

“Who falls for your charm? The girl or their partner?” You laugh.

He didn’t like your sarcastic response, “Oh ha ha. Very funny. Obviously, I meant the girls. But let’s be honest, there have been a few of their partners who have fallen for me as well. I’m just that irresistible, you know?”

“Actually…I do believe that. All hail king Mattheo.” You move your hands up and down in his direction.

“Can you two shut up?” Theodore blurted with his mouth full of food, “I’m trying to think here.”

You both stared at Theodore, then looked at each other one more time sharing a silent agreement. Mattheo smacked Theo’s back while you pulled on his hair. Theodore groaned in surprise. Before he could properly react, the two of you had bolted out of the great hall. 

Mattheo and you made it down to the dungeons, having ran the whole way. You pointed at Mattheo to say the passcode, you were too out of breath.

He laughed, enjoying your flustered out-of-breath state and how you were leaning against a wall. Clearly not conditioned like he was. He was hardly winded, “Viper’s Den.” Mattheo opened the door for you, you followed him inside.

“Wooaahhh! What the hell does Teddy need help with? This looks amazing.” You looked around the heavily decorated room. You twirled around taking in the sight, there was no way this was the same common room. 

Mattheo stared at your reaction with a smile, barely noticing the room. He had to peel his eyes away from you when you stopped twirling. “He outdid himself.”

He looked around nodding in approval, “Oh! Come over here!” He beckons you over to a corner of the room. He gestures over to a table that had a clear covering over it. It had an array of sweet-smelling treats. There were honey buns, chocolate cakes, berry tarts, and everything in between. It was like a little piece of sweet heaven. He began to peel back the covering when you slapped his hand. 

“Stop it. Wait for tomorrow night.” 

“You’re no fun. I just wanted a small nibble, we didn’t even get to have dessert at the great hall.”

You look around again, there was an identical table. “All that’s missing is the drinks…you know I heard another rumor that those Hufflepuffs want to help out too with some herbs. If you catch my drift.” You smile at him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Maybe we can get high again! It’s been so long!” You laughed at the last time Mattheo and you partook in their drugs. You had a sleepover in Mattheo’s dorm for three days straight. Surviving on just water and sleep. 

He nodded in agreement, clearly remembering the same thing. “Oh yeah, that was fun. I would love to have another sleepover like that again.” His grin got bigger as he reminisced. He thought about how you both slept on his floor together because the bed was too small and he kept falling off of it. He remembered you being so attached to him that night, being a needy mess. But he was all for it. He couldn’t wait to blow the smoke into each other’s mouths once again.

The door opened, snapping him out of the train of thought, it was Theodore. He looked annoyed but glad to see you both there. “Good. Here’s what I need you two to do.” He started to list things off. Mattheo groaned, but got to work, knowing the promise you both made to him. 

 °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

You got out of the shower, it felt good. It was an intense session. You used your best soaps, exfoliators, you shaved, you slathered on a scented lotion that had a light shimmer to it. You went to town manicuring your nails, curling your hair, and doing your makeup. You would have normally been tired of all this work, but this event was special for you. It was a chance to actually dress up for once and pamper yourself. 

You took your dress, carefully folding it over your arm. You took your heels in another hand, going out of your dorm and locking it. You headed the opposite direction of the hall towards Mattheo’s room.

Mattheo was in his dorm, getting ready for the party too. He was carefully putting on his tie in the mirror, making sure it was perfect. He looked himself over, admiring his reflection with a smirk. He heard a knock on the door, and he called out, “who is it?”

There were people starting to scurry around between dorms too, so it wasn’t out of place that you were standing outside of his. There was a small commotion downstairs as people made their way into the Slytherin common room meeting with their dates and friends.

“Matty, it's me. Open up, I'm here to fulfill my promise.” You couldn’t help but lightly laugh at the fact he wanted to make sure your dress was ‘appropriate’ enough.

He had been waiting for you to come by, “Oh, doll. You’re finally here, huh?” He made his way over to the door and opened it, revealing you there.

You push past Mattheo in order to enter his room. You didn’t bother waiting for permission to enter. You set your dress down on his bed, putting the heels on the floor.

Mattheo laughed, enjoying your eagerness to get ready for the party. He closed the door behind you, locking it to ensure privacy. “Someone’s in a hurry, aren’t we?” He teased watching you, looking over your shoulder to get a glimpse of your dress.

“I mean not anymore no, I was actually taking my sweet time.”

He sensed your annoyance immediately, “what did that jackass do?” Mattheo went to stand right behind you, trying to mask his rising anger at the possibilities. He took a strand of your hair, admiring how soft and perfect the curl was. It bounced lightly in his hand.

You shrug. “Charlie messaged me saying that he’ll be here in like two hours-” You weren’t able to hide your disappointment, especially with Mattheo who could read you easily even without legilimency. “-even though the party is basically starting now.”

Mattheo’s smirk faded as you mentioned that, looking away from your curl in his hand he scoffs, “two hours? Seriously? Isn’t he supposed to be your date? What’s his stupid excuse?”

“Beats me.” You turn around to face your best friend, you couldn’t help but let a smile erupt on your face as you really noticed him. “Mattheo..!” You whistled, “you clean up real good.”

Just that easily, his smirk returned, clearly enjoying your compliment. “Yeah, I know. I look damn good, don’t I?” He said just as cockily. He made a show of straightening out his tie and smoothing his hair down. He had already been pleased with how he looked, but it felt even better hearing it come out of your mouth.

He went with an all black outfit, even his shoes were surprisingly clean and polished. You reached out to him, putting your hands on his shoulders. You inspected his front, flipped him, checked out his back. His toned muscles were peeking out from under his dress shirt. It was amazing, his wide shoulders and small waist. His biceps were being contained just right. You smoothed the fabric down. You turned him to face you again, feeling proud. 

Mattheo had let you inspect him without a peep. Enjoying the way you ran your hands over his body, admiring every single detail of his outfit. He tried to act aloof and nonchalant, but he couldn’t help feeling flattered by your attention. “Having fun, are you? Admiring my good looks, princess?”

“Actually yes. I have nothing snarky to say.” You laugh, “okay okay maybe one-” Mattheo raised his eyebrows for you to continue, “-are you sure they didn’t have maybe a half size larger for your dress shirt? Or did you purposely go smaller? You look massive..” 

“Oh, shut up. This shirt looks perfect on me.” He wasn’t actually offended, he enjoyed the banter with you “…But yeah I did go for a smaller size. Clearly it was a good decision if I have your attention.” 

“Yeah yeah whatever.” You look at his hair, he had slicked it back, but you could still see the ends of his hair wanting to curl back. You loved his curly hair. He looked so…so hot right now. Thank God, you were starting to take those private occlumency lessons with Professor Snape so this idiot couldn’t read your mind. Plus you made him promise you to not enter your mind after a mishap two years ago.

He smiled as you noticed your gaze lingering on his hair. He ran a hand through his hair, slightly messing it up, causing some of the curls to revert back to their usual state. “What, you'd rather have my hair like this, huh?” 

“God, fuck yes. Mattheo thank you for doing that. It looks much more natural on you. The pomade does help define them much more though.” You smile up at him too, “anyway!” You turn back around to face your dress, but in reality you started to feel yourself blush like you were running a fever.

Mattheo noticed the hint of a blush appearing on your cheeks just before you turned away from him, “are you blushing? Is someone a little flustered, hmmm?” He teased.

You choose to ignore his comment. “I’m going to use your bathroom, I don’t trust you enough to just close your eyes for this.” You take your dress and heels into his bathroom and close the door quickly. 

With a pout, “Hey, I'm totally trustworthy! I swear I won't peek-” He began to say before hearing you lock the door. There was no point in protesting.

You undressed, leaving your pajamas on his bathroom floor. You slipped quickly yet carefully into the black satin dress. You had forgotten that it was a corset back and would need help clasping it together. You held the back together with your hands, admiring the vision. It was a long gown, with a slit running up your right leg and stopping just below your hip. You put on a matching black set of heels. You thought you looked very pretty, a rarity on your behalf. You made sure your hair and makeup were still fine. You went to crack open the bathroom door, taking a deep breath, still holding the back of the dress together with a single hand so it wouldn’t slip off. “Matty?”

Mattheo was already waiting patiently outside of the bathroom door, drumming his fingers on the wall as he tried to ignore the image of you undressing just on the other side. He perked up when he heard your voice calling out from behind the door, a smile reappeared on his face. “Yes, doll? You done yet?” He was unable to keep the eagerness out of his tone, so he went and put his hand around the door, trying to make you open it wider so he could see all of you.

“I actually need your help…” You let him open the door, “I forgot this was a corset, and not a zip up. I need you to clap me in.” You laugh, “I mean clasp.”

He laughed at your little Freudian slip, he was amused at how you got those two words confused. He wondered what you really wanted, but he also pushed that thought back too. He raised a single eyebrow as he took in the sight of you. His eyes widening in surprise at how stunning you looked. The dress hugged your curves in all the right places, and the split on the right leg gave him a glimpse of your smooth skin. “Damn princess, you look…beautiful.” He said this, his voice growing a bit huskier as he approached you. He pulled you by your waist so you would come out of the bathroom and into the well lit bedroom instead. 

“Thank you…I think so too..” You blushed as he complimented you, letting him pull you closer to him. Mattheo turned you over so your back was turned toward him.

“I’m very happy you think the same.” He gently gathered your hair, pulling it to one side so it was out of the way.

“It might be a little tricky.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure I can handle it.” He moved your hands out of the way, so the dress split open, stopping at the small of your back. You held the front of the dress up to keep it from falling. Mattheo nearly started to salivate at the sight of your bare back to him, how it exposed more of your skin to him, he was loving the view. He hated having to fasten you into the dress instead of just slipping it off and skipping the party. Mattheo mentally slapped himself, to stop thinking about you in that way.

“Everything okay?” You say, feeling a bit self conscious as Mattheo paused for a moment. He cleared his throat. He started at the bottom of the corset, fastening you in carefully. His hands graze your bare skin occasionally, sending shivers down your spine. He made sure to not pull too tightly, asking you throughout the process if it was enough. “I don’t know if I should be mad or grateful that you know how to do this.” You close your eyes at the feeling of him working on you.

“Why would you be mad? I have a lot of hidden talents.” He finished up the corset, taking a step back to admire his handiwork, “there we go. Looks good and perfect…and secure.”

You let your hands fall to the side, trusting that it wouldn’t fall down now. You gave a small twirl to Mattheo, ending it with a curtsey. He kept a smile at you, his eyes turning a shade darker. You look at the mirror admiring how you looked now that you were finished. You readjusted your hair. “So I'm assuming that this dress is appropriate enough for this event…for you?”

“Appropriate? You look amazing. You’re going to put every other witch at this party to shame. You look like a true goddamn princess, one that I want all to myself.”

You felt your heart skip at his words, it felt different. It was all you could ever ask from him, God if only he liked me back, you thought. If only he wasn’t just saying this because he was your best friend. You go to wrap your arms around him, giving him a tender hug. He wrapped his arms around your waist in return, pulling you tighter into him. Mattheo closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your body pressed against his. Your sweet scent was driving him crazy. 

He buried his face in your hair, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within him. There was no denying how much he cared for you, but he was still struggling to acknowledge his true feelings for you. 

You gave his biceps a gentle squeeze, pulling back, “shall we head down?” You smile at him.

He nods in agreement, returning your smile with a smirk of his own. “It’ll be an honor…and respecfully, fuck your ‘date’ for not being here, but also I wouldn’t want it any other way. To just walk you down, is an honor in itself.” Mattheo held his arm for you to take, offering to escort you to the party downstairs.

You roll your eyes, but you don't want to admit that you agree with him. You started to have your own doubts about Charlie, maybe it was kind of stupid to think…you could..fall in love with someone else. You had to at least give him a chance..right? You ended up taking Mattheo’s arm, linking elbows, while you placed your other hand on his forearm.

Mattheo could sense your uncertainty in your date, he wanted to just flat out tell you again that he wasn’t worth it. He couldn’t wait to rub it in your face, but deep down he didn’t want to see you hurt. He covered your hand with his own. He was cherishing this moment, feeling a small sense of triumph.

 °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

The party was already in full motion by the time you went down the stairs. People were going around laughing and dancing. The refreshment table was already nearly half way empty. You had to wonder if people showed up earlier than expected out of the excitement. You felt people stare at you and Mattheo. His grip on you was gentle, yet firm and possessive. Mattheo himself could feel, and see the envy, coming off the people as their eyes roamed over you. You could say the same thing, but you thought the looks were because you had Mattheo’s attention, and he was dressed up as well.

You both walked over to the drink table, each of you grabbing a glass of whatever was closest, “cheers to a good evening.”

He clicked his drink to yours, “Cheers.” He tilted the drink into his mouth, still scanning the party as he did so. He was mentally taking note of those eyes that lingered on you for too long.

“Mattheo, I know this is supposed to be a party…but can I ask a lesson from you right now?” You ask, setting down your empty glass. Already feeling the warmth from the drink start to take effect.

With an eyebrow raised again, intrigued by the idea of teaching you something in this setting, “A lesson, huh? Sure what do you want to learn?”

“Can you teach me how to dance?” You blush, “I know just how ridiculous that sounds but I usually just sit around and smoke at parties…so this feels new.”

He laughed, but not in a mean way. He found it surprisingly cute how you requested this, especially considering your usual party habits. “It’s not ridiculous at all. I'd be happy to teach you.” He held out his hand to you, gesturing for you to take it. “May I have this dance?”

You took his hand, “I like this version of Mattheo, so elegant and charming.” You cooed playfully, following him onto the dance floor.

“Careful doll, compliment me too much and I might start to think you actually like me. Romantically.” He teased, unable to resist throwing a playful jab.

You couldn’t say anything to that, you only blushed further, if only you knew how much I really liked you Mattheo, so ironic of you to say that.

Mattheo was loving the effect his words had on you, “What, lost for words now? Something tells me there’s no comeback for that one?”

“So…so what’s the first step?” You change the subject back to the lesson on dancing.

He shook his head, but understood you wanting to change the subject. “First step to the classic ballroom position - holding each other firmly.” He adjusted his grip on your waist and took your hand in his, positioning you in the correct dance position. 

“Okay, easy enough.” You looked into his eyes, one hand on his shoulder. “I swear I was probably born with eight left feet, I’ve never thought to dance.”

He chuckled again, finding your honesty endearing. “Don’t worry, princess. You’re in good hands. Just follow my lead, okay? We’ll start with the basic steps. First, step backward with your left foot as I step forward with my right.” He gently guided your movements, slowly moving in unison with him.

You couldn’t help but look down at your feet as he began to show you more steps. You started to get the hang of it, only after a couple accidental steps on his own feet. Though you didn’t apologize so much since he was finding it so fun to tease you earlier. 

Mattheo was just so stricken with you, he would only chuckle and sigh as each time you stepped on him, finding your clumsiness adorable. “Thanks for ruining my shoes.”

“I’m doing it on purpose at this point.” You look back at him smiling. He feigned a look of shock, pretending to be offended.

“Ah so you’re doing it intentionally? That’s playing dirty, doll.” He spun you around before bringing you close to him. You rested your head on his chest, you could finally reach it comfortably with the height the heels gave you. You closed your eyes, listening to his heart.

His breath hitched, he liked the feeling of you being so close to him. The way your body fit against his perfectly. He dug his fingers deeper into your sides as he dipped you backwards, using it as an excuse to get even closer. His face was dangerously close to yours.

You forgot how to breathe for a second as you watched Mattheo. You noticed a slight change in him, something only you could notice. He had gotten…nervous. He pulled you both up right again. When he did this you noticed Charlie standing behind him, clearing his throat. “Sorry for being late… My roommate had an urgent matter. I came as fast as I could.”

Mattheo’s body tensed as he heard Charlie’s voice behind him. His grip on you tightened, protectiveness seeping into his touch as he reluctantly pulled you back away from him. He hated that he actually ended up showing, having to interrupt the moment he was sharing with you. He plastered a fake smile on his face as he turned to face Charlie, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Ah Charlie. Finally decided to grace us with your presence huh?”

Your date gave Mattheo a confused look, he didn’t seem to really be intimidated by him. Which made sense, if he even had made the effort to ask you out on this date knowing full well he would have to face The Mattheo Riddle. A fact other guys were immediately put off by. “Yeaahh..” He scratched the back of his head, “um thanks for keeping Y/N company for me.” He let out a small laugh, offering his arm to you just as Mattheo had done.

Mattheo didn’t bother hiding his annoyance at Charlie’s casual demeanor, especially as he offered his arm to you. His jaw clenched visibly, fighting the urge to snap at him. He kept his composure the best he could, maintaining the strained yet police facade. “No problem.” He said tersely, his gaze flickering between you and Charlie with a hint of possessiveness.

Almost reluctantly you go to take Charlie’s arm. He smiled down at you, he brought forward his other arm that was hidden behind his back this whole time. “I brought this for you…” it was a single rose. 

You smiled while taking it, “thank you, this is beautiful.” You look back at Mattheo, “I’ll talk to you later? Enjoy yourself Matty.”

Oh how Mattheo wanted to bash at Charlie’s face with his fists. He watched as you thanked him for the rose, his eyes darkened with jealousy and frustration, that wasn’t even your favorite flower, not even in your favorite color. How could some jackass not bother to learn what your favorite flower and color was. He wanted to tear you away from him.

“Yeah, enjoy yourself man. Thanks again for warming her up for me.” Charlie said to Mattheo, pulling you away from where you were originally dancing. You let him guide you away, but couldn’t help looking back, seeing that Mattheo was already facing his back towards you both. You looked down as his fists were clenched, knuckles turning white. You couldn’t help but feel guilt. 

 °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

Charlie was just like a prince, he was actually really sweet and thoughtful past the lateness. Plus, his excuse made you think that he was loyal to those he cares about, to tend to their needs first than his. You both had danced to a couple of songs (thanks to Mattheo for teaching you). It was fun. Whenever Charlie spun you around or hugged you close to him, you couldn't help but look around for Mattheo subtly. You saw him enjoying himself, he was talking to a couple of girls.

In reality Mattheo’s eyes scanned the room for you as well, he would only pretend to focus on the conversation he was having with the girls. Barely making an effort, and yet they were in hysterics laughing. It kind of annoyed him how easy it was. His focus kept drifting to your location. He hated seeing you with Charlie. He hated seeing you in someone else’s arms, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Not yet, at least.

Between songs Charlie would grab a drink, and it was starting to really add up. He began to get sloppy and step on your toes. He’d apologize but do it immediately after. You stopped dancing, telling him that you both should just sit down for a while. So you guided him to an empty couch.

Mattheo watched as you and Charlie made your way to the couch, a mix of relief and frustration coursing through his veins. Finally there was some distance between the two of you, but he didn’t like that your date was making a fool of himself as he kept drinking. He was leaning against a wall, keeping a watchful eye on you from afar. The girls by his side kept rambling and rambling and he was only paying attention to you, scoffing at the state Charlie was in. It was getting ridiculous. The girls rolled their eyes at Mattheo, hating that he wasn’t engaging in the conversation so they left him.

As the night went on, you began to like Charlie less and less. The more his drinking caught up to him, the more he just seemed like an idiot. It was quite the change. The first half of the night with him was great, he was able to hold a solid conversation just like normal. He would ask about you, wanting to learn about what you were into, but now he kept going in circles. He would only talk about himself, it got boring. Fast. 

Charlie’s drunken behavior was becoming more apparent, he was slurring his words and regressing into mindless rambling. Mattheo clenched his jaw as he saw you grow more disinterested in your date by the second. It was clear you were bored and fed up. He was tempted to intervene, to find a way to end this date early. But he also wanted to teach you a lesson. That you were supposed to really be with him, and not some dumbass, especially one who couldn’t handle his alcohol.

You were getting embarrassed, people must have thought it was weird that Mattheo and you arrived at the party together and now you were with other people. You knew this by the curious glances they were making at me. They probably couldn’t help but wonder about the dynamic we held.

A pretty blonde girl went up to Mattheo, blocking his view of you, “Hi..I couldn't help but notice you almost…sulking in this corner…can I ask for a dance?”

He gave her a lazy smirk, looking her up and down before responding, “sure, why not.” He pushed himself off the wall, downing the rest of his drink before offering his hand to the girl.

You continued to sit there bored, your chin resting on your hand. The major downside to people not wearing uniforms was that you didn’t know who belonged to which house. You wished you could just dump him with someone that would know him. 

As you look around you notice Mattheo dancing with a girl, it wasn’t the type of dance he had taught you. It was the kind that would be best suited for our regular ‘trashy’ parties. 

Mattheo’s smirk wavered slightly as the girl pressed herself up against him, grinding against his lap shamelessly as they danced to the music. He chuckled quietly to himself, amused by her boldness. He ran his hands down her sides, fingers lingering on her hips. His gaze wandered over to you, his expression faltering slightly when he noticed how bored and annoyed you appeared to be.

You notice Mattheo make eye contact with you, you give him a friendly wave, watching him handle the girl. You turn away before scowling to yourself.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” Charlie breathed out, his hot breath bitter from the alcohol. He leaned over the couch to put his face between your neck. You shrugged him away uncomfortably. This didn’t stop him though, he gently put a hand on your jaw, making you look at him “pay attention.” It was major deja vu, but with the wrong person. Very wrong person. Charlie leaned in to kiss you, but you quickly stood up leaving the rose he gave you on the seat. He kept leaning to the point he just ended up face planting onto the couch seat.

As Mattheo danced with the girl, he happened to look back up at you, catching it in time when Charlie tried to kiss you. His fingers dug into the girl’s hips as he felt anger and jealousy. The girl let out a small moan. “Ouch Mattheo. Give me a warning next time.” 

The drunken fool didn’t deserve to touch you like that. He stopped letting the girl grind on him for a moment, but then he noticed how you got up not letting him finish that kiss. He laughed to himself. The girl looked behind at him confused, but she turned around to wrap her arms around his neck, rubbing her breasts against his chest now. “Unless you want to take this upstairs?” she said, trying to get his attention again.

You walked over to the refreshment table, not caring one bit about leaving Charlie behind after that stunt. He could fend for himself. Thank God there was still some weed left, thank you Hufflepuffs! You thought, kissing the air. You set down a paper, neatly tucking in the weed, carefully licking it shut. As you did, you watched Mattheo. At least one of us was having a good night.

“Maybe later, sweetheart.” Mattheo said to the girl, he didn’t care for her advances at all, but he just wanted to play along. He responded with a sly smile as she rubbed against him. 

You looked back down at the fairly fat joint you made, you wanted to light it but you felt guilty. You wanted to get high with your best friend. It was so fun last time. You tucked the joint behind your ear, preparing another one for him. We would have to get high on a different day. With the two joints, you moved them into your corset, just on the side of your boob as you had no pocket or bag with you. You looked toward the drink table, considering but being put off with how it made Charlie. You still grabbed a drink just to hold onto and not look awkward. 

Mattheo caught you putting what seemed like joints into your dress, he smiled knowing you were probably thinking about him. His attention was divided between the blonde girl and you. He smirked to himself, seeing your disapproving face when you went to grab a drink. He found your sudden dislike of alcohol funny. 

You stood there with your drink, not taking a sip out of it. You just bumped your head to the music. You noticed Theodore and made your way over to him. “Hey Teddy, I’ve got to give it to you. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. You did great.” 

He smiled at your compliment, he took a sip of his own drink before responding and gesturing around the room that was filled with students dancing, chatting, drinking, and just having fun. “I know, thanks for your help with finishing it. I’m glad everyone is enjoying themselves…” He hesitated a moment, “but you seem a bit…bored. Where’s your date?”

You just pointed behind yourself with your thumb, “ick.”

Theo laughed at your bluntness, looking over at Charlie’s direction. He was still sitting alone on the couch, face in his hands, “dumbass can’t handle his alcohol? And Mattheo?” You pointed in the other direction. He let his smile falter a bit, knowing his friend was just using the girl. “Ah~ so can I have a dance with you then? You look amazing.” He looked you up and down.

You nod, putting your glass down, and taking a step close to Theo. You put your hands on Theo’s shoulders, as he put his on your waist. You swayed to the music as it changed to a slower song. You put your head on his chest as you did with Mattheo. You let out a small sigh that was concealed with the music, you were definitely going to get an earful later. 

You both danced to a couple of songs, before you pulled away from him, “thank you for dancing with me. I think I'm going to retire for the night. My feet are killing me…though I liked dressing up, I’d rather stick to sneakers.” You laugh straightening out Theo’s tie and collar.

“Of course, any time. I’m sorry your date kind of ruined your night, but you really do look gorgeous tonight, cara mia.” He looked down at you, his tone sincere.

Giving him a friendly kiss on the cheek, “goodnight Teddy.” You made your way up the stairs back to the dormitories. As you go up, you look down at the party once more. Charlie was just now sleeping on the couch, you rolled your eyes. Mattheo had his face buried in the blonde girl’s hair. You sighed. Mattheo’s dorm room was closer to the stairs so you made your way over to his room, your pajamas were still in there. With your luck he had not locked his door. 

 °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

Mattheo kept his eyes trained on you as you went into his room, he couldn’t help but feel a little excited at the thought. It sent a thrill through him. His mind started to wonder, why you decided to go in there instead of your room. 

When you stepped in his room, you breathed in deeply. It had such an intoxicating scent. Sometimes you went nose blind to Mattheo’s smell, but being in his room where it was the most concentrated almost made your brain fuzz. You went into his bathroom, looked at yourself in the mirror, man what a wasted outfit.

He couldn’t wait any longer, the thought of you inside there by yourself was driving him crazy. He pushed the blonde girl to the side, mumbling an excuse about needing some air. He made his way towards the stairs, shoving people to the side, determined to get to his room as quickly as possible. As he entered inside, he noticed the bathroom light on, the door cracked open.

Bending down to pick up your pajamas that you left on the floor. You debated on changing out of your dress, but knew just how long it would take if you were to do it by yourself. You would need to wait for Mattheo, but you also didn’t want to be in his room if he decided to bring that girl up here for the night. You notice one of his shirts on the floor too, you picked it up. You wanted to smell it. Fucking weirdo, don’t do it. Do it. Don’t do -

Mattheo pushed open the door quietly, peering inside to see you holding one of his shirts in your hands. You jumped at the sound, “oh my god, shit!” You dropped the shirt back on the floor along with your pajamas.

He leaned against the doorframe, watching you with a smirk, “you didn’t expect me to find you in my dorm, love?” He laughed sarcastically.

You peaked behind him trying to see if he brought the girl over after all, “no I didn’t..I thought you were still going to be downstairs. I was just getting my pajamas and shoes.”

The smirk on his face widened as he noticed you peering behind him, he laughed and shook his head, “I got tired of dancing with her. She’s a little too clingy for my taste.”

“Yeah? Well at least you didn’t have to endure a drunk.” You go to pick your pajamas again. You make your way to his desk to take off your heels. His eyes looked at your legs. There was a pause between you two. “Go on Mattheo, rub it in my face.” You huffed, rubbing your feet, closing your eyes, “let’s get it over with.”

“Oh, princess, if you insist.” He moved closer to you, standing behind you. He leaned down, bringing his face close to your ear, his breath against your neck. “I told you so.”

You kept your eyes shut, clenching them a bit hard. “T-that’s all you got?”

He brushed a strand of your hair from your face, his fingers tracing down the side of your neck. His tone was low and husky as he spoke into your ear “Oh, you know I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Want me to teach you another lesson?”

“What do you mean?” You looked up at him, your heart took a leap.

It was now or never for Mattheo. “For not listening to me.” He firmly grabbed your wrist making you stand up from the seat. He instead took you place, he sat down looking at you expectantly as you were now standing by his side.

“Mattheo…what do you mean?” You almost stammered on your own words. 

“It’s a yes or a no, darling. Do you want me to teach you a lesson? I am your tutor after all, right?”

“-and best friend.” You looked at him, still very much confused, but you felt a sense of excitement of the unknown. He rolled up his sleeves to his elbow carefully as you thought it over. Why is he being so…so.. “Yes.” You blurted.

“Good girl, this is the lesson I’m going to teach you. It’s going to be about listening to me, because I know what’s right for you. The first part is having you admit to yourself that I was right and you were wrong. I don't want to have to tell you. You tell me instead…go on.” In a quick motion he brought you down and bent over on his lap. You didn’t have enough time to react to what was going on, but your heart was starting to race. You could feel one of his hands rubbing your ass just above the thin satin fabric of your dress. You turned to look back at him, and he was staring at your ass, but had to quickly meet your eye. “Go on.” He gave your left cheek a rough squeeze.

You closed your eyes, before opening them and answering. “Mattheo you were right. I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” He said, squeezing your ass again, then tracing a single finger along the slit of your dress. Touching the smooth skin of your thigh.

“About my date…I was dumb to think it was going to be an amazing date. But it wasn’t.” You sighed both at the turn of events with Charlie, and because of Mattheo’s touch.

“And I warned you, didn't I? That you could be with someone so much better than him, didn’t I?” He nearly spat out the last words in emphasis. Squeezing your ass harder this time, his nails are able to dig into you through the dress. 

You don’t respond, you’re too focused on his touch. How he was handling you. Your thought process was going in about a thousand different directions right now. When Mattheo didn’t hear you he swiftly pulled your dress over to the side by the slit, exposing your ass to him. You stopped breathing. He sucked in air through his teeth at the sight of your perky round ass in a black little lacey thong. He gave you a sharp smack on your ass, you yelped not expecting it. “I asked you a question, darling.”

“I uh…Yes. Yes Mattheo, you warned me. You did warn me that I could be with someone better.” You whined as he smoothed out the area he just hit.

“Have I ever done wrong by you?” SMACK! He hit the other cheek this time. You slapped your hand over your mouth to stop you from crying out loud, but he quickly pushed it away from your face so you could answer him.

“No..y-you haven’t.”

“Then why didn't you listen to me?” SMACK! You cried out again as he hit you. Again he rubbed it out.

“I- I…don’t-” you began to say - SMACK!

“Does he know the reasons why you cry?”

You opened your mouth to try and respond but was spanked again.

“Does he know what makes you laugh?” 

SMACK! 

Your legs were starting to tremble due to the mix of pain…pleasure…the excitement of it all. It was so confusing. Well it wasn’t confusing to see Mattheo so angry, but towards you it was new. It was turning you on, and you knew he was enjoying himself too. Not only because he did enjoy inflicting pain onto others, but because you were starting to feel him get hard from underneath you. His dick was poking up into your stomach. You were sure the pressure of your weight on him was sending him over the edge. You looked back at him, biting your lip. He just looked down at you, quite darkly. His hand was removed from your ass, leaving it red and hot. Surely there was bruising and welts from his work. 

Mattheo’s lips twisted upwards in a smile. Then pulled your hair back, twisting it around his hand. This causes you to strain your head backwards. He bent down to whisper against your neck, kissing it. “I can promise you this, no one is ever going to make you feel the same as I will. I’ll do anything for you.”

You nod, your eyes going wide at his confession. You were about to respond to him but once again you were silenced when he let go of your hair, and pushed your head back down. His hands went over your sore ass and and he hooked his fingers around your panties, shimmying them down your thighs and off of you. He stealthily stored them in his pants pocket. 

You felt a cool breeze as you were exposed to him now. Especially because of your growing wetness, which Mattheo could now see. “M-Mattheo… can I please speak now?”

He shook his head, “Not now, darling.” He leaned to the side, putting one hand on each ass cheek. His gaze quickly looked over at you, your head was still hanging down. He returned to what he was doing, and he slowly spread your ass, showing himself your pussy. He groaned at the sight. He smirked, liking that you were enjoying this treatment. “Fuck, baby. It’s so pretty.”

You couldn’t help yourself, but at his words you arched your back to further show yourself to him. You felt your face get hot, this was Mattheo. Once a stranger. Once your tutor. Now your best friend. The guy you’ve developed a massive crush on. He chuckled at your action, he was so tempted to break the promise you had in regards to him trying to read your mind. He wanted to know what you were thinking of all this.

“I promise you won’t need him after this, ever. You will never think about him ever again. Only me.”

Mattheo crept his fingers closer to your heat, so he could spread it further. You scrunch your eyes closed as he was getting closer to where you wanted to be touched. God you wanted to be handled like this by Mattheo for so long. So many nights you had spent alone in your dorm touching yourself and imagining it was him. You wondered if he ever had those moments (he definitely did). You were snapped out of that thought when you heard him spit onto your cunt, you felt it tickle into your hole. 

“Go on, say my name, Doll. I want to hear my name coming from your lips.”

“Mattheo..” You breathed out shakily. “Shit mattheo… please touch me.”

SMACK! That was all your plea earned you, another slap on your ass, “You don't get to order me around…but alas I was going to regardless. You’re so impatient.” He ran two fingers along your wet folds, smirking at the idea that his spit was just sitting inside of you currently. 

“M-m-matty.” you moaned out. He was a sucker whenever you called him that, so he dipped a finger into your core. You moaned out again, especially when he began to probe around feeling your gummy ribbed walls. You reflexively clenched around his finger. He breathed out, imagining how it must feel around his cock. He curled his finger inside of you. “More-more please.” 

He sighed, with his free hand he grabbed your hair in his fist, “stop telling me what to do.” Once again, despite his words he still gave you what you wanted. He pulled out his first finger, just to shove two back in afterwards. 

“Oh my god.” You moaned out. He smiled, moving his fingers deeper inside you. Your precious little cunt was making unholy sounds from how wet you were. Mattheo loved the sound of it, he could tell that his dick was just leaking with precum. He didn’t know how much longer he could take. 

Mattheo was just being relentless with his pace, fingering you. He tried holding you down by leaning on you with his body weight, but you were wiggling too much from pleasure. You felt like you were about to cum. But he would sometimes take his fingers out just to spread the wetness around your lips, massaging it in before continuing. It was driving you absolutely nuts. Eventually you were able to reach your high, cumming down his fingers. He sighed, just as satisfied with the sight of your slightly creamy cum that was now going down your thighs when he pulled his fingers out of you.

“Princess…I really like you, you know? Like really like you. I’m not just saying this…for what we’re doing.. And sorry for a lack of better words..I can’t- I can’t think straight right now. I just want to bury my dick deep inside your pussy.”

“Don’t worry…Matty..” You tried to catch your breath, trying to bring your heart rate down. Mattheo helped you turn around and sit on his lap, making you straddle him. You looked down to his lips, smashing them with yours. The kiss was hungry. Each of you kept biting the other. Mattheo with his clean hand turned your head to the side, kissing and biting down your neck. “I like you too…I have for a while now.. I just..I didn’t think you felt the same.”

Mattheo looked up at you, as you admitted back to him. He was relieved you felt the same. He smiled sweetly at you, your usual best friend peeking out for a moment. He hated that he kept you waiting for so long as he sorted through his own feelings for you, and it only took some jackass taking you out as a date for him to learn this. Just as you had been, he was ripped out of that thought when he saw that you took the hand that he used to finger you, putting the two fingers inside your mouth. Cleaning yourself from him. 

“Oh fuck, darling.” his jaw hung low, groaning with the sight. His eyes glued to where the two digits were disappearing between your lips. He took another sharp inhale, unable to tear his gaze away. He pulled them out of your mouth, leaving a trail of spit to fall onto your chin. He tried to regain his authority, he cleared his throat, “W-What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Can I please suck your cock?” You smiled sweetly at him again, batting your eyelashes. 

He breathed out, his voice low and almost hoarse as he spoke, his words coming out in short bursts “n-no princess. I’m trying to teach you a lesson. You’re supposed to be good and pay attention to what I'm doing.”

“Okay Mattheo…sure.” You agreed to play along. He put his arms around you, lifting you up easily. He got out of the seat and walked over to his bed, setting you down in front of it. He turned you around so your back was towards him and he pushed you down onto the bed. Keeping your head flat against his comforter with one hand. You inhaled, taking in his scent from his sheets. You let out a small moan.

He knew what you were doing, “for your information…I knew you wanted to sniff my dirty shirt that I left in my bathroom. You freak.” He brought up how he caught you when he returned back to his dorm after the party. He couldn’t resist a little banter despite how heated things were getting between you and him. 

“Shaddup!” You said muffled from your head being pinned down. You felt him move your dress to the side, tucking it under your hip, making sure it was out of the way, “do you want to help me remove this…?”

He smiled at you again, shaking his head, “no..I actually want to fuck you in your dress. You look too beautiful in it to let it go to waste. A real princess.” You couldn't help but love the sweetness in that. He momentarily let go of your head, so he could unzip his pants and pull it down. He also took off his dress shirt, exposing his toned torso and abs. He used his knee to open your legs apart further, he pumped himself a few times, needing to feel some relief already. “Spread yourself to me.” He commanded bringing your hands to your ass. You did what you were told, you arched your back again, spreading your pussy for him. You felt Mattheo rub the tip of his dick around your wet entrance, then rubbing it around your clit before using his full length to use your wetness to lubricate himself. 

You wanted to turn around to look at it, you wanted to see if you could take him. You always wondered what he was packing. You wanted to know how long it was, how thick it was, what color it was, how it would feel inside of you. You were feeling a slight headache, then the realization hit you. You were going to stand straight up when he pushed you down again, “Mattheo!”

 “Okay okay..i’m sorry. I know I promised, but I wanted to know what you were thinking.” He said not so guilty. “Buuuuut know that I know.. I want you to see me fucking you. I need to see your pretty face-” He turned you around, lifting you so that you were now sitting forward, facing him on the side of the bed. He was smirking when he brought over a pillow to put just underneath the small of your back. He pulled you by your waist so your ass was barely hanging out of the edge, it was a perfect height to his hips, “-I need to see how you look when you take me.” He pulled your legs so that they were resting on his shoulders. 

Fuuuuck. You thought as you looked down at his twitching dick. He was so big and girthy. His cock slightly tanner than the rest of him, his tip as pink as his lips. God the lips you stared at all the time, day to day. You felt nervous, he would definitely be the biggest you’ve taken. You felt a ringing in your ear again. You rolled your eyes, knowing he was reading your mind again.

“I know you can take me, sweetheart. You’ve done everything I’ve taught you so well.” Mattheo stroked the side of your face gently, with warm eyes. You couldn’t fathom the duality of this man. He was doing this while his other hand was adjusting his dick to your entrance, carefully dipping the tip into you. 

You looked down away from his face to watch him enter you. “Please take it slow…I’m-”

“There’s no reason to be scared, of course I will take it slow.” He said this, but hated it. He just wanted to fuck you senseless. He looked away from your face, looking at your pussy. He tried pushing himself in slowly, but you were not letting him in. “You're so tense, please relax for me.” He moved over to suck on his thumb before moving it to your clit and rubbing slow lazy circles, earning him a moan from you. He smiled, continuing his work. He wasn’t even trying his best and you were already shaking again.

“Matty… I think..I think-”

“Oh no you’re not.” He stopped just as you were about to come to your next high. “Next time you cum, it’ll have to be on my dick.” 

You whined and wiggled against him. He took this opportunity and really pushed himself, leaning down into you. You held him by his shoulders, biting him on his bicep. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer into you. All you felt was pain at first, and he wasn’t even moving yet too. You said a silent prayer to yourself.

“Shit. You’re so tight. When was the last time you were fucked…? Actually please don’t tell me I don't want to think about another person doing this to you.” He said one hand on your waist, the other on your hip, pulling you closer so he could really be balls deep into you. He tried not to get angry at the thought. “It feels so good, damn. So warm. Baby, can I start moving?”

You felt so full. So very full with him all the way inside you. You felt his cock twitch impatiently just as you had been earlier, maybe more. You felt bad for Mattheo, you also wanted him to feel good, but it was almost unbearable. You nod, “you can Matty.”

His eyes snapped up at yours. He didn’t like your uncertainty, but he really needed to feel relief. He almost felt sorry for you, but he was way too horny to fully care and to just pull out to make you suck him off. “I’m sorry Princess…I’ve been wanting and needing you like this so fucking bad.” He began to pull his hips back little by little, going in and out of you. He sighed, moving your legs back up on his shoulders, he kissed your leg.

“No, dont app-” You gasped when he slapped his hips against you, “-ologize. I-I want to make you feel good too. I want you to use me…” He smiled at your words, despite your not so hidden worries. You were a fool for him, and he loved it. He loved it because he was a fool for you too.

While you loved watching him fuck you, loved hearing his grunts and sighs. It was still so much for you. You turn your face away from him, biting on your finger. The other hand, covering your face. When you were just focusing on just the physical, not the visual it helped relax you. The pain began to disappear, especially once you started to get used to his size and the pace. Mattheo was definitely stretching you out. You whimper at the thought, at the pleasure that was starting to hit you like a pulsing wave.

“W-why are you hiding your face?” He grunts, slowing his movement, “Don’t hide it, I want to see your expression.” He pulls your hand away from you. His eyes widened when he saw your cheeks were stained by your tears. He completely stops, midway pulling out. “Princess, are you alright? Am I hurting you?! Oh my god you should have told me if I was-”

“No please- please don't stop. It just feels that good.” You reassure him by pulling yourself forward so that his cock would reenter you. You went back to biting your finger to hold back your cry.

Mattheo smiles at you, a sense of relief rushing through him. His smile turns into a smug look. “You’re still so pretty when you cry. You scared me.” He leaned back down, licking the tears off your cheeks, not minding the salty taste one bit. He moved to suck on your neck, he pulled your other hand down that you were biting on. “You sound so beautiful too, especially when your cries are just for me. Don't hold them back. I want to hear how you feel about me, how I'm making you feel..”

“Matty, please just keep fucking me.” You moan out, moving your hips against him.

“As you wish, just don't tell me off later if you can’t walk. You asked for this.” His smirk and cockiness returned. He pulled your legs forward so that they were being pressed up against your chest, really exposing your pussy to him. He didn’t hold back anymore. 

“Yes mattheo, I’ll tell you again that you were right. That you’re always right. I will always listen to you.” You moan out, knowing he loves the sense of control. You arched your back off the bed, so he would keep hitting your sweet spot directly. You felt your eyes lul back. You tried to keep your eyes open to watch him slamming his dick into your sweet sopping wet cunt. Each time he pulled out of you, his own member glistened.

“That’s my fucking girl. You’re taking me so well.” He spread your legs away from your chest so he could lean back into you once more, he kissed your forehead. “Oh this - s is this is so frea k…freaking ba-bad” He began to get sloppy with his movements. He wrapped both of his hands around your throat, to choke you and also to steady himself. 

“You’re cock feels so good inside me Matty, so good. It feels so euphoric, it’s so filling.” You choked out through his grip around your neck. You saw him look down at your pussy again. He let go one hand and pressed down just under your belly button. “Fucking shit Ma-Mah-Mattheo.”

When he did this, he saw the way your own pussy was gripping onto him, he smiled at the sight. “You’re being so greedy now aren’t you? You just can't enough huh? You like me treating you like this, you’re so dirty.”

You keep moaning his name, not being about to think about anything but how he was fucking you so well. Just as you had always imagined and wanted. You were just so focused on the pressure he was creating in your belly, the all too familiar twisting and knotting as you felt getting closer.

“Shiiiit~ your pussy is suffocating my dick darlin’. Are you about to come around me? Am I making you feel that amazing? Please don't hold back now, I'm all for it.” He moved his hand back to paying attention to your clit, but he paused before continuing his motion much more slowly. “Are..are you on any birth control?”

“What?” You were kind of dumbfounded, he asks this now? He just stares back expectantly. “Yeah I am..” You kind of gave him an attitude because he was denying your next orgasm with this sudden questioning. 

He squinted a bit, “why?”

“Matt- what? Just what? My periods hurt like hell and this is what helps me dur-” 

“Can I creampie you then?” He nonchalantly says interrupting you, returning his attention back to your clit, smiling.

You throw your head back, you were slowly but surely returning to the state you were in before he suddenly stopped. 

“I asked you a question… Please don't make me ask again..” He said, closing his eyes, needing to know your answer before he thrusted faster. He needed to know what to do now that he was getting close. God he hoped you would say yes. Mattheo wanted to see your little cunt filled up with his cum. He wanted to see it drip out of you..He looked at you realizing you had been shaking from sheer pleasure. The reason why you weren’t answering him was because you had came around him without him fully realizing it while in his own thoughts. 

“Mattheo..” 

He looked at you quite lovingly, tucking your hair back into place, “I’m right here.” He gently taps on your cheek, trying to pull you from your trance, “I’m right here, open your eyes. Look at me.” You open your eyes slowly to him, giving him a fucked out smile. He smiled back at you, “that’s my girl.”

“...yes fill me up with your cum. It’ll be an honor.” 

With that he did not need to be told twice, his smile widened. He kissed you on the lips before ramming himself back into you. He still didn’t give up on the attention he was giving your clit. It was starting to ache by how overstimulated you were. It was so red and swollen. There was no way in hell you were going to tell him to stop. He was just using you like a toy at this point, and you were loving it. He had your legs pressed together and to your chest again, you were hugging them for dear life. You kept calling his name, begging him to fill you. “Princess, I love you so much..I lovee - I love yo u.” He stammered out “I love you..m-more than anyone i n my l-life.” He shook, and stayed still a moment as he came.

“I love you too.” You said, a little sadly as he pulled out of you. He gave you another kiss on the lips, before just peppering your face with kisses.

“You’ve always been mine, you know that right?”

“Mhmm” You close your eyes. 

He sighs contently, kneeling a bit. He watched as his cum started to be squeezed out of you. He thought he would love it, but he just wanted it to stay inside of you. He brought his two fingers to your hole, scooping up the cum that escaped and pressing it back into you. He curled his fingers once more, starting to pump in and out carefully. You moaned out, grabbing his wrist. You opened your eyes and he was already looking into yours. He smiled his devilish smile. Oh fuck…

“Yeah, I'm not done with you just yet, princess.”

With that it was like he was trying making up for lost time with you.~

[m0llygunn]

Eddie's Notes (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)

summary: Eddie's a friend you trust... you trust him enough to have your first time with him... and your second.

tropes: virgin!eddie, virgin!reader, friends to lovers, bad at sex eddie but eager to learn (eventually) warnings: 18+! mature language, pet names (baby, pretty/sweet girl), smut, p in v sex, mentions of reader's period, oral (f receiving), virginity loss a/n: a lot of people write eddie as being good in bed (myself included) but I thought it'd be fun to dive into a realm of him being not good (but he is a cutey little dedicated sweetheart once he gets his act together). reblogs and comments are appreciated profusely <3 wc: 10.4k+

“Do you want to do something else?” You ask over the top of Eddie's copy of The Hobbit. 

“Not really anything else to do.” Eddie replies, from the other end of his bed, only sparing you a short glance before going back to his guitar. 

You’ve been thinking about it for a while and you trust Eddie, you really do. 

Saving yourself for marriage is not in the question. Saving yourself for the love of your life doesn’t seem probable. So someone you trust is the best case scenario. And you really trust Eddie. 

The best part is you’re pretty sure it’ll be an even playing field with Eddie. In his crude nature, with sex jokes and innuendos, it was hard to decide whether or not he has but you’re almost certain he hasn’t. 

Almost certain. 

“Are you a virgin?” You ask, words spilling from your lips before you can stop them. 

“What?” He laughs. You shrug before realizing that maybe that question is outside of your realm of friendship. Maybe what you actually want to ask him is eons outside of your friendship. 

Sure, you’ve been friends with him for a few years now but you’re not the best of friends. Good enough friends to hang out a couple times a month doing nothing beyond enjoying each other's company, but it’s not like you’re best best friends. 

“If you don’t want to answer, that’s fine. I guess that was super weird for me to ask, sorry.” You say, going back to hiding your face in his book. 

“No— no, not weird at all.” He says with a nervous chuckle. 

You give him a moment to answer the question but he doesn’t. When you peek out from behind the book again, his gaze is fixed forward, stuck in a trance of thought.

“Sorry.” You say again.

“No— don’t be.” He shakes his head, blinking away whatever he was thinking. “I’m um, uh— not really?” He says, adding an inflection to his statement like he’s asking you.

“Not really?” You ask, looking for clarification but he just shrugs. You assume the conversation is done but as soon as you go back to the book, he speaks again. 

“I… have done stuff. You know, a little rub and tug from the hideout’s finest,” He says, making a crude pumping motion with his fist over his guitar covered crotch. “but… to elaborate, uh— no actual penetration, I guess.”

“Penetration?” You say, laughing softly at his choice of words. 

“Yeah… never put it in?” He says again like he’s asking you if it’s an okay answer. 

“Fair enough.” You smile, nodding your head. 

The both of you sit in silence, Eddie shifting uncomfortably in his spot. You expected him to counter ask your question, but he just sits there, fingers drumming on the body of his guitar.

“Why did you ask me that?” He asks with a genuine curiosity, finally breaking the silence. 

“You don’t want to know if I’m a virgin?” You ask, purposefully ignoring his question. 

“Are you?” 

“Yeah.” 

Eddie’s eyebrows rise, hiding beneath his bangs before he comically relaxes himself, putting on an image of indifference. “Oh… me too.” He says coolly.

“So I’ve heard.” You reply, rolling your lips inwards to try and hold back your laugh. You twist in the bed, putting the book down on the floor.

“Why are we talking about this?” He asks quietly, following your lead and setting his guitar down on the bed beside him. 

“Do you… want to…” You ask, trailing off, shrugging your shoulders.

“Want to…?” He asks, sitting up straighter. 

“You know?” You say, raising your eyebrows hoping he says it so you don’t have to. Faux indifference thrown to the wind, his own eyebrows rise once again, eyes going wide in disbelief. 

The silence goes unperturbed until his mouth pulls into a flatline before dropping agape, his eyes narrowing in on you. 

“I think you’re gonna have to spell this one out for me, cause I think I know what you mean, but I am not gonna look like an idiot if I’m thinking something entirely different than what you’re thinking.” He rambles, hands working overtime twisting his rings mindlessly. 

“Do you not want to?” You ask, your eyes flitting to his nervous habits on full display. 

“No I do!” He says a little too loudly, cheeks going red in embarrassment. “But… clarify please cause I really don’t want to be reading this wrong.” He says, flattening his palms on his legs, as he clocks that you’ve noticed his fidgeting. 

“Do you want to have sex with me?” You ask as plain as can be. All of Eddie's fidgeting stops immediately. He freezes, his eyes going wide, and you feel your own nerves pick up.

It takes a moment but when he comes back alive, his eyes finding yours. “You’re not joking right?” He asks, his gaze penetrating so deeply it almost becomes too much.

“I’m not joking.”

“Uh— then… yes.” He says calmly.

“Try not to sound so enthusiastic.” You laugh nervously, feeling uncomfortable in the thick tension of the room.

“Shit— I’m sorry. I’m just— it took me by surprise. But I do! Really do, seriously!”

“Okay then.” You smile, feeling your nerves relax. “Do you want to… now?”

He nods his head vigorously before pausing with a look of defeat. “Shit, yeah I do but Wayne was supposed to be helping a friend fix up their car. He might be home in a few hours.”

“A few hours? Is it… is it gonna take that long?” You laugh.

“Probably not.” He says, cheeks flushing dark red. He starts wringing his hands again, his nervous habits becoming more and more prominent by the second.

“Eddie, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, you can tell me if you don’t want to. I won’t be upset, I swear.” You say, sitting up straighter to look at him. 

“No— no god no. I mean yes— I do. I want to. I just— fuck, I didn’t think we’d be doing this today.” He says, eyes flickering over the room before meeting you with a sheepish smile. 

“Should I take my clothes off?” You ask, toying at the hem of your shirt. 

“Oh shit— yeah. Yeah, and I’ll take mine off?” He asks, grabbing at the hem of his own shirt. 

“Yeah. I think so.” You smile, pulling your shirt off. 

“I’m just gonna— yeah, just gonna move this first.” He says, picking up his guitar and pushing himself up off the bed. When he turns from hanging it up, he stops, eyes flickering over your shirtless body. Trying not to lose your nerve, you quickly unclasp your bra, pulling it down your arms, and dropping it off the side of the bed. Eddie’s unwavering eye contact with your chest makes your skin heat, playing on your nerves, especially since he's stood in the middle of his room not saying anything.

“Eddie.” You say, folding your arms over your chest. 

“Right.” He mumbles, jumping into action, pulling his own shirt over his head. He moves quickly to unbutton and unzip his pants and with a deep breath, you shimmy out of your own, pushing them off the edge of the bed. 

“Underwear too?” He asks, still standing in the middle of his room.

“I guess.” You laugh.

“Right. Stupid question.” He says, shaking his head. You watch as his hands go to his boxers and within a blink he’s pushing them down until they pool around his feet, his hard length becoming your main focus as it bobs against his lower belly. You take in the sight of him, still standing in the middle of his room, naked. Your eyes linger on his erection until his hands cover it. 

“Sorry.” You mumble shyly, shifting on the bed to tug down your own underwear. 

“Don’t be sorry.” He says, clearing his throat. 

“Are you going to come over here or…” You ask, dropping your underwear to land in the pile of your other discarded clothes. 

“Yeah.” He says, swallowing harshly. He steps to the edge of the bed, about to climb on until he stops. “Condom, uh— gimme a minute.” He says, eyes darting around the room. “I have one somewhere, just…” He mumbles as he bounds for his desk.

With his back turned, you let your eyes rake over him. He’s cute, very cute. His nerves are endearing; however, Eddie’s always been brash, you didn’t expect him to be so jittery. In a weird way, you like it, because it’s distracting you from a lot of your own nerves. You trust him, entirely. You’ve never not trusted him.

He opens drawer after drawer scrambling through his belongings until proudly holding up the little silver square.

“Right, good.” You say, trying to sound casual. 

“Are you okay, like, do you need anything?” He asks, stumbling his way back to the bed over his messy floor. 

“No, I’m good. Just need you, I guess.” You say, motioning down to his crotch, cringing at yourself for saying it like that. 

“Right. I’ll… put this on then.” He replies. He settles on the bed beside you, pausing before tearing open the condom package. He pauses again.

“Do you need me to… help?” You offer, hoping you don’t sound as dumb as you think you do.

“Uh, I’m good. I think, just— slide it on there.” Eddie says, rambling as he fumbles with the condom. “Just like… that. There. Okay.” He coaches himself, turning his upper body towards you when it’s finally on.

“Do you wanna…?” You ask, motioning for him to get on top of you. 

“Yeah, sure, yeah.” He rambles, pushing himself up. You spread your thighs for him, his hips fitting between your bent knees. His movements are awkward, which you also didn’t expect from Eddie. Normally, he’s clumsy but he’s very forthcoming, very sure of himself. You're used to the way he thrashes through life, kind of like a bull in a china shop, but right now he’s tiptoeing, treading very lightly.

“Should I put my arms here?” He asks leaning forward so a hand rests on the bed next to your head.

“However you’re comfortable.” You say softly, trying to coax some of his nervousness away.

“Let me… just… figure this out.” He rambles again, adjusting his body first with both hands caging you in, then switching back to just one, before leaning back and resting on his knees.

It takes you a minute, but you clue in that every adjustment is centered around the least physical contact between the two of you. “You can touch me, Eddie.” You say, hoping he’ll ease into the moment.

“Right. Yeah of course.” He says, shaking his head. He tentatively lets his hands find your bent knees. His touch is feather light, obviously unsure.

“Should I just…” He asks, looking down between where your bodies almost meet. His eyes linger between your thighs, hands gripping harder on your knees, and it makes your belly flip. A good flip, more like a flutter. You like how his eyes become darker, and his mouth slightly drops. It’s cute. He’s cute. 

“I’m ready when you are.” You exhale, trying not to laugh as his eyes glaze over in a dazed look, still focused between your legs.

“I’m ready, so if you’re ready.” He replies mindlessly, still not looking up. 

“Eddie, you can put it in.” You laugh softly. His eyes finally flicker to you, catching your smile, and he mirrors it as best as he can, albeit with a blush of pink across his cheeks for being caught staring so long. 

“Right… I’ll do that.” He replies. He takes his length in his hand, running his fist up and down once. It’s a casual action, practiced, and you get a glimpse of what Eddie’s really like without the jumbled nerves. 

He leans in the slightest bit and you feel the tip of his head prod at your slit, sliding down slowly. He works himself down, parting your slit until he’s resting just at your opening. You think he might start pushing in, but he pauses, keeping himself entirely still. 

“Uh— sorry but, this is the hole right?” He asks, cheeks flaring red.

You don’t blame him, there is a lot going on down there and you know he just wants to be sure. He's being careful, asking questions when he’s unsure, he doesn’t want to hurt you, but it still makes your face turn the tiniest bit hotter because of the intimacy you’re not used to. 

“That’s the one.” You say awkwardly, moving your own hand down to your center to help guide him. 

Before you can even wrap your hand around him, he interrupts you, making you draw your hand back. 

“Wait do we— I don’t have lube or anything.” He says, eyes flitting to yours. 

“Maybe… spit? That’s what other people use, right?” You offer with a shrug.

“Yeah… I’ll just…” He says before dribbling over you. Missing completely, his glob of spit lands on your lower stomach making you laugh. He looks embarrassed at first, but as he watches you laugh, his lips slowly break into a smile before he eases into his own laughter. 

“Why are we being so awkward? We’re friends, this is fine, right?” You say, exhaling, trying to compose yourself from your laughter.

“Yeah, we’re friends… having sex.” He says with a heavy exhale.

“I’m still me and you’re still you, we don’t need to be nervous.” You say, looking into Eddie’s eyes. He nods, taking another deep breath and letting it out and you can feel some of his nerves leave him. He nods again and you smile at him. 

“I’m still me, you’re still you.” Eddie echoes. He takes a final deep breath before looking at you, returning a flash of a smile. 

You spit in your hand, bringing it to your core, getting yourself wet. You motion for Eddie to come closer and when he does, you wrap your fingers around him enough to line him up with your entrance. 

“Okay, so just push in. But slow please.” You guide. 

“Slow, got it.” He replies, hips beginning to move towards you.

He takes your words to heart, pushing in extremely slow. So slowly, you aren’t even sure if he’s moving, apart from the noises he’s trying to hold back— and there’s a lot of them, which must mean he’s getting something from this. 

You move your hand to his hip, pulling him towards you and he moves a little faster at your guidance. You start to feel a pinch, then it turns into a stretch. He continues pushing in slowly, the stretch turning to a very mild burn.

“Are you almost in?” You ask, squeezing your eyes closed.

“Almost, like another inch, maybe?” He says, hand squeezing your knee.

“Okay— good.” You breathe.

“Are you okay?” He asks, movements stilling.

“Just stings, but keep going.” You say, trying to unclench the muscles you keep tensing by accident. He complies, pushing into you slowly again.

His hips finally press flush against yours and Eddie stills. Looking up at him, you see his mouth working back and forth, eyes glancing over your body like he’s trying not to look too hard or too long at any particular spot. You’re about to tell him that he can touch you again but his mouth opens, sucking in a breath like he’s about to say something. 

“You’re really warm. Like… inside.” He says. His voice sounds strangled but you can tell he’s trying to come across as casual. You can’t help but laugh.

This is what you wanted. It’s easy. You feel comfortable enough to laugh. You trust Eddie and despite his nerves, he’s doing a good job. 

With your hand on his hip, you keep him still, giving yourself time to adjust, and he complies, taking deep breaths that you subconsciously align your own breathing to. 

When the sting relaxes into a dull ache, you take a final deep breath before relaxing your grip on Eddie.

“Okay, you can move, Eddie.” You say, pushing against his hip. He looks up at you long enough to nod, before moving his eyes back down to your center.

He pulls out slowly, just a touch faster than he pushed in and it’s such a foreign feeling to you. It’s on the cusp of being something you might enjoy… but not quite there. 

When he pushes back in, it’s a little quicker and you get the same almost pleasure feeling. 

“Fuck.” Eddie groans, hands squeezing harshly on your knees.

“It’s okay?” You ask. The tone of his voice catches you off guard. You’ve never heard Eddie sound like that before.

“Y-yeah. You’re really tight.” He says in that same tone. It’s deep, it’s raspy, and he sounds out of breath. It’s hot. Your stomach twirls, and you watch his face as it contorts in pleasure, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth and his brows pinched harshly together. 

He looks like he’s really enjoying it, but… apart from seeing him like this, you aren’t.

You shift your hips, trying to find any ounce of pleasure but if anything, it just feels like he’s prodding at you. Not uncomfortable but definitely not pleasurable.

“Eddie, does this… feel good for you?” You ask tentatively. You know the answer, you can tell by the way his breathing has turned into little pants but you figure there must be something you’re missing. You can’t help but feel a pinch of jealousy that it feels that good for him. 

“Fuck. Yeah, feels really good.” He groans, his thrusts slowly picking up in pace. 

You lay still, watching Eddie thrust in and out of you. The image of him, face contorted in pleasure, and all the breathy little gasps spilling from him makes a hint of heat pool in your lower stomach, but this isn’t at all like you thought how sex would feel. 

Maybe your next question comes out a little mean, but his radiating pleasure taunts you. It’s juvenile, but you can’t help but think how it’s not fair.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me if it feels good?” You watch as Eddie’s mouth drops open even further, his chest rising and falling harshly. His eyes squeeze shut and you aren’t even sure if he heard you. 

“I’m gonna cum— shit. I’m sorry. I can’t- f-fuck.” He groans, his thrust becoming uneven, stuttering against you. 

“Oh.” You say quietly. His thrusts are short and shallow until his movement still, cock pulsing inside you. 

And just like that, it’s over. 

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie groans, his hold on your knees becoming almost bruising. You feel a little more heat pool in your core seeing Eddie come undone but at this point, you know it’s over.

You continue laying still, watching Eddie’s face slowly unwind, eyes fluttering open. He pulls out, moving his way to lay back beside you on the bed, his breathing still harsh and ragged.

You watch as his head hits the pillow, eyes closing as he sucks in a deep breath, exhaling it harshly. His eyes open again, meeting your gaze. 

“That was— holy shit.” He says breathily.

“Yeah?” You ask, trying not to sound disappointed because that most definitely was not ‘holy shit’ to you. Quite frankly… that was just shit. You’re not upset, not in the slightest, just jealous. Envious that it was so easy for him and not you. It’s irrational, and you know you shouldn’t be mad at him, but it doesn’t stop the bud of spite inside of you. 

“Did that— sorry. Was that good for you?” He asks, head tilting towards you. 

“No.” You say flatly. Your eyes go wide at your answer because you most definitely didn’t mean to say that, it just slipped without thinking. 

And as you watch his face fall, every ounce of jealousy, envy, spite, anything you were feeling just seconds ago leaves you entirely, being replaced with regret for that one little word. You shouldn’t have said that. 

Eddie was nervous. He was shy. He was tentative. Gentle. Careful. Respectful. 

It was endearing. You found him cute. 

You wanted it to be with Eddie because you trust him. He did everything you wanted. 

It was his first time too.

“Oh” He says, eyes going round with disappointment. 

“No! I mean it was fine. You did good Eddie, we’re no longer virgins!” You say excitedly, trying to fix your slip of the tongue. You smile but his face falls flat. You feel your heart pang as he deflates in front of you. 

“Yeah… I’m sorry. Maybe— uh… I don’t know. I’m sorry.” He says quietly, hand raising to his face, rubbing aggressively over his mouth and chin. You can tell he’s not buying your cover up and you genuinely feel bad.

“Don’t worry about it, Eddie. It was just the first time. I'm sure it’ll get better?” You say, trying to fix the sad look in his eyes but it only gets worse.

“That bad, huh?” He asks, and his demeanor breaks your heart. You should have kept your mouth shut.

“Don’t feel bad!” You say, sitting up to get a better look at him.

“Fuck— I’m so sorry.” He huffs, hand going back to rubbing over his jaw.

“No, don’t be sorry! It can only go up from here, right!” You try your best to fix your mistake but it’s not working. 

“It was that bad.” He groans, hiding his face in his hands. 

“Eddie, please don’t feel bad.” You say, moving to be able to fully look at him. “I wanted to lose my virginity to you because I trust you, Eddie. And it was perfect in that sense. You didn’t hurt me at all, and I really, really don’t want you to feel bad.” You say genuinely. You let your hand rest on his arm, trying to pull his hands away from his face.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He says again, palms pressing harder into his eyes despite you trying to pull them away.

“Eddie. I’m so serious. I wanted it to be with you for a reason. Please, please, don’t feel bad.” You try a final time.

He stays, hands covering his face for a while and you don’t know what else you could say to make it better so instead, you opt for getting dressed. Even when you shift on the bed, he doesn’t move.

It only takes a few minutes for you to be fully dressed. He laid still the whole time, hands pressed to his eyes, and you’re convinced he fell asleep.

“Maybe I should go?” You whisper quietly. His hands fly away from his face, eyes widening. His gaze takes you in, realizing that you’re fully dressed and he sits up quickly.

“You don’t have to.” He rushes out, his wide eyed gaze meeting yours.

“I probably should, right? It’s getting late.”

“Right…” He agrees sitting up. “I can drive you, if you want?”

“It’s nice out, I can walk.” You offer.

“I'll drive you, just give me a minute.” He replies, brushing off your comment.

“Sure.” You say politely, grabbing your bag from the floor.

You wait for him in the living room and it’s only a few minutes before he’s fully dressed. Wordlessly, you both go outside, and get in the van.

After a silent ride, he parks in front of your house.

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I feel like I ruined your first time.” You say.

“Shit. You have nothing to feel sorry about. I’m the only one who should be sorry.” He says, huffing an almost laugh.

“Don’t be sorry. Eddie, I told you already. I trust you and because of that it was a great first time.” 

Eddie shrugs, not accepting your sentiment. 

“I’ll see you?” You ask quietly.

“Yeah, see you.” He nods.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

It's been just over a week since you and Eddie slept together. A week of radio silence. Sure, it’s not like you two hung out everyday before, but you thought that, maybe, that might be different after you slept together. But nope. 

You waited a while to call, trying to give him space since that night didn't exactly end as you hoped. While you waited, you hoped he would call, but he didn’t. 

Eventually, you ended up calling, but you got his uncle, who said Eddie’s been busy the last few days and he hasn’t seen him much. Later that night, Eddie called, but your mom answered since you were staying at a friend's house. You called again yesterday, Eddie wasn’t home. You had expected him to call that night but he didn’t. And you’ve been thinking about it all day since it’s summer vacation, your parents aren’t home, and you just have a lot of time.

When there's a knock at the door you fully expected it to be a salesman or jehovah witness, but you were surprised to see Eddie. You didn't even have a chance to speak before his hand was on the door, pushing it open as wide as it could go.

“I want to try again.” He says, a slight breathiness to his voice as if he just rushed his way over here.

“What?” You ask confusedly.

“I want to try again.” He says a little louder before shrinking a little. “If you’ll let me, I mean. Only if it’s okay with you.”

“You… want to try again?” You ask, finally clueing in to what he’s talking about.

“Yeah. I feel fucking bad that I came—” He stops himself, turning around, looking to the street. “Can I explain inside?” He says, wincing slightly. 

You usher him inside, spotting your neighbor on their porch and you pray to god they didn’t hear Eddie and if they did, they remain oblivious to what he was getting at. 

As soon as the door is shut, Eddie’s speaking again.

“I meant to start with an apology.” He says, voice softer and less breathless.

“Eddie, I really don’t want to hear you apologize again. It was fine.”

“It wasn’t.” He states, raising his brows. He relaxes into sincerity, meeting your gaze. “I want to apologize for what happened after.” He says, pausing for any objections from you. You let him continue. “You were being really nice about it and I… I was being selfish. You already didn’t enjoy yourself, and then I made it your job to make me feel better about it. That was really shitty of me.” 

“I felt bad, you know. It was your first time too.” You shrug.

“But you shouldn’t have had to coddle me like that. It wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry.” He says softly. You can tell he’s genuinely sorry for it and you really do appreciate it. You nod, and he rolls his lips inwards, nodding back. 

“Thank you.” You say. He nods again.

The room stills, the both of you in silence. You can tell Eddie wants to keep talking. 

“So… outside you were saying?” You lead, prompting him. He catches your eye, smiling appreciatively for you being the one to break the silence.

“I was saying outside that I feel terrible that I came so quickly and it wasn’t good for you and I want to try again.. if you’ll let me.” He blunders out. 

You raise your brows. This is more like the Eddie you know. Straight forward, to the point. 

“I um— I don’t know what to say.” You laugh softly. You do feel a hint of apprehension. You’ve already accepted that the sex was bad but the part that really got you was what happened after. Not his sulking, but after you left. The not talking part. That was the last thing you wanted to come from this.

Despite your feelings, you can’t help but light up a bit at Eddie’s enthusiasm. His eyes are wild with it. 

“You don’t have to say yes. But I did a fuck ton of research and look—” he says pulling out a folded piece of lined paper from his back pocket, starting to uncrumple it. “I took notes and everything. I want to do it right, so if you’ll let me…”

“You took… notes?” You ask amusedly. He holds the paper out to you and you cautiously take it.

“Yeah. I’m dedicated to this. I told you, I feel fucking terrible. I should have listened more, asked you questions, done so many things differently. So I just— I don’t know.” He says shrugging, hands wringing themselves.

You glance down at the paper to see his scribbled writing covering every inch of the paper. Your eyes gravitate to a very technical diagram of a vagina that he drew out. 

“I don’t want to look at this.” You laugh, shoving the paper back to Eddie. 

“Shit, sorry.” He laughs nervously. He goes pink in the face. Not exactly out of nerves like before, but more so flustered. It’s cute.

You can’t help but bite. 

“So… what exactly did research entail?” You ask, holding back your smile.

“I went to the library first. Looked at some books there. Read some magazines… asked a few people.”

“People?” You question worriedly.

“No— no don’t worry! I didn’t tell them it was you or anything. It was mostly just books and magazines that I read, I swear. I just wanted to make sure some things were actually true.”

“And… you really want to do this?” You ask. You're intrigued and his effort is very endearing. You did say that it could only get better…

“Yes! But only if you’re comfortable with it. Doing it once was generous— so if you say no, I understand.”

“Generous?” You laugh.

“Yeah. Like, that was a cool thing to do, you know?” He shrugs, cheeks flaring. 

“Cool?” You laugh again.

“Yeah.” He replies, cracking a smile.

Your eyes gravitate to the sheet of paper in his hand. You don’t really have anything to lose, right? You’ve done it before and if he really is dedicated to this like he says he is… might as well give it a shot?

“Yes.” You say firmly, your mind made up.

“Yes?”

“Let's try again.” You exhale.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t do any research but… if you’re okay with that, my answer’s yes.” 

Eddie perks up, eyes becoming filled with excitement. He looks at his sheet of notes for a moment before his gaze finds yours again. 

“Do you have a calendar?” He asks plainly. 

“A calendar, Eddie? What?” You ask, feeling confused all over again.

“I just… yeah. Just like a regular calendar.” He shrugs.

“In my room.” You lead him upstairs, pulling the calendar down from your wall and handing it over.

“Okay, thank you. And when was your last period?” He asks, laying the calendar down flat on your desk, fingers drumming over the dates.

“My last period, Eddie, what the fuck?” You laugh.

“No, seriously. If you’re ovulating it’s supposed to be better, so last period was…?” He says, fingers gliding over the calendar.

“Like two— three-ish weeks ago?” You say, pointing at the general days on the calendar. 

“Okay, okay. Just gimme a minute.” He says, flattening his notes down on the surface next to the calendar. “Alright, so if this was the first day of your period, then you should be ovulating? Or almost ovulating?” He says, fingers sliding along the weeks, counting quietly under his breath. 

“Eddie, it sounds like you’re trying to get me pregnant.” You laugh nervously.

“No! No, I swear to god, no! I just- I read that it’s supposed to feel better for you during that week, so, like, now would be a really good time for me to… you know, try to make you feel good.” He says, eyes going wide as he turns towards you, looking the slightest bit mortified.

“Oh…” you respond, brows raised as you try not to laugh in his face. It’s endearing it really is, but… this boy is so odd. “Alright then.” You nod, your lips tugging into a smile. 

“Yeah. So I can check that off.” He says, grabbing a pencil from your desk and physically checking off one of his notes. “So next, is foreplay.”

“Foreplay?” You parrot, laughing in disbelief.

“Yeah. I think that’s where I really fucked up last time. I mean, I didn’t even kiss you, for christ sake. And I didn’t touch you at all before, so yeah. Foreplay.” He says, exhaling harshly.

“You want to kiss me?” You ask nervously. Your heart picks up as your gaze flickers to his lips.

“I mean, yeah.” He says, going shy. “But I didn’t know if you would have wanted me to cause we’re not… you know, together.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“You could have kissed me.” You smile at him, your stomach going fluttery at the thought. 

“Really?” He asks in disbelief. 

“Yeah.” You affirm, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Cool.” He nods slowly, smiling.

“So.. are you going to?” You ask, sheepishly. He meets your gaze, eyes slowly lowering to your lips. He nods his head, stepping closer to you.

When your eyes flutter closed, you feel his lips press against yours, soft as a feather.

He pulls away and you almost think it’s over until he pulls you back in, hands on your waist, bringing you closer to him. His lips meet yours again and it’s entirely different from the first. His lips work against yours and it leaves you dazed, struggling to keep up with the unexpected, but it’s perfect.

His hands still on your waist, he guides you to lean against your desk, his body pulled flush to yours. His hands rub up and down your sides slowly, adding to your fluttery dizziness. 

The kiss deepens, his tongue licking along your lower lip and you part your mouth. He’s gentle with you, tongue imploringly licking into your mouth, almost as if he’s testingly seeing what you like best. It gives you butterflies, something you’ve tried to not dwell on getting from Eddie in the past.

His hand trails up your waist, taking purchase on your jaw, guiding your mouth against his until his kisses slow, his lips meeting the edge of your mouth before trailing down the side of your face.

You swallow harshly before speaking. “That was really good.” You say, clearing your voice. You practically feel Eddie’s lips turn up in a smile against your jaw.

“Yeah?” He asks breathily against your skin. 

“Yeah. I think your research is working so far.” You say, squeezing your eyes shut as his kisses trail down your neck. 

You open your eyes when the kisses stop and you feel him pull away. 

“Yeah?” He asks excitedly, making eye contact with you. His gaze is a combination of shock, disbelief, and amusement and it’s adorable. It pulls on all of your heart strings at once.

The attentiveness, effort, the everything from right now mixes with everything from before. Gentle, careful, respectful, you trust him. You trust him and you think he’s cute, endearing, adorable, and you want him.

“Keep going.” You say, your own voice going breathy.

“Right.” He mumbles, face pressing against your neck again. 

You bring your hand to the back of his head, fingers entwining in his hair. As soon as you do, you feel a nip of teeth that makes you gasp. He cleverly soothes the area with his tongue after, making a whimper rise in your throat that surprises you when it falls from your lips.

“Eddie, who’d you get that from?” You whisper curiously, voice sounding pathetically whimpery. 

“Dunno, s’just something I picked up.” He replies, pulling away enough for his breath to fan over your damp skin, giving you shivers. 

He nips again, chasing it with a harsh suck that makes your head spin. You can’t help but feel like he’s showing off now but you don’t care, you let him. He has you at a place where you’re his for the bending, malleable in his hands. 

“W-what’s next on your list?” You stutter through his kisses.

“Not done with this yet.” He says, voice gravelly and low. You nod your head, not bothering to try to speak again.

His kisses work lower and lower until they meet the neckline of your shirt. You feel his fingers on your hip playing with the hem of your shirt, tugging and lifting it just enough to get your attention. You nod again, wanting it off.

“Eddie.” You whine, pushing your chest against his when he doesn’t do it right away.

He pulls away from you again, and when he looks at you, he looks surprised. 

“What?” You question, feeling embarrassed.

“N-no! Nothing, that was just.. really hot. Wasn’t expecting that s’all.” He stutters, both hands now on your waist, rubbing up and down.

You feel your face burn, feeling shy all of a sudden. You know he picks it up because his eyes focus on you, pausing everything.

“D’you want me to keep going?” He asks, and you nod your head.

“Want you to take my shirt off.” You whisper.

“Yeah?” He laughs.

“Eddie.” You whine, feeling embarrassed at how much he’s affecting you.

“C’mon let’s get your shirt off, pretty girl.” He coos and you feel your stomach flutter. His hands lower to the hem of your shirt, tugging it up and you raise your arms cooperatively. 

“You think I’m pretty?” You ask just as the shirt pulls over your head.

“Hell yeah. I think you’re beautiful.” He says, stopping to look into your eyes as he says it. You lower your gaze, fixing it on your shirt in Eddie’s hands.

“Which is another thing I fucked up last time, by the way.” He adds, dipping his face to meet your gaze.

“Hm?” You hum, head spinning too fast to keep up.

“Last time. I didn’t tell you how fucking beautiful you are.” He says. His eyes flutter over your face, hand moving to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to, so I didn’t. But believe me, I thought about it.” He says, dipping his face down to press a chaste kiss to your shoulder. 

“Eddie.” You reply not knowing what else to say. Your heart beats faster and it’s all consuming, adding sweet to your ever growing list of things you like about Eddie. He’s always been sweet, but this feels bigger, and it makes your heart squeeze.

“Want me to take this off?” He asks, fingertips sliding under the strap of your bra. 

“Please.” You whisper, using all the air left in your lungs to muster the single plea.

His fingers trail behind your back, tickling you along the way until they reach the clasp, unfastening it hook by hook, letting it fall to the floor.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. So perfect. Wish I had said it the first time.” He says lowly, between kisses on your shoulders.

You hum, both because you don’t know what else to say and also because you are so fully absorbed by Eddie. You watch him as his kisses get lower on your collarbones

“S’this okay?” He asks, kisses stopping before reaching your chest.

“Uh-huh.” You breathe. Your hands move the back of his head again, tugging him lower until his kisses meet your chest. His hands rise tentatively until they press against the roundness of your breasts. Another moan falls from your lips and that spurs him on enough to more confidently massaging you, adding kisses to the mix.

“C-can we lay down.” You stutter, trying to catch your breath. 

“Anything you want, pretty girl.” He replies, continuing his kisses. He guides you, taking steps backwards to the bed, turning you so the backs of your knees hit the mattress.

You lay down and he follows, hovering over you more comfortably than last time. 

You close your eyes, absorbing the weight of Eddie on top of you, and you feel hot everywhere. It’s completely contradictory to last time and he still has every piece of clothing on. Before you can even think of asking him to take off his clothes, you're startled by the wet, hot feeling of his mouth on your nipple. 

“Eddie.” You moan. Embarrassment isn’t a feeling you can harbor anymore, Eddie has you so entranced. Your chest rises and falls harshly, panting as his tongue swirls around your sensitive nipple. You feel like your skin’s prickling and your heads empty, the only thing that exists right now is you and Eddie. 

He switches, paying the same attention to your other breast and you spread your legs further, letting Eddie fall closer to you, hips pressing against yours. 

“Want clothes off.” You whimper, his teeth grazing before sucking harshly on the delicate skin.

“Mine or yours.” He mumbles, words vibrating against your chest and you’re sure you’re covered in goosebumps.

“Both, Eddie.” You moan. 

He makes quick work of pulling his shirt over his head. His hands go to the button of your shorts, stopping to look at you first. 

“I want to try something first, if that’s okay?” He says, dipping down to meet your gaze. 

“Eddie.” You whine, not caring the slightest, you can only think of wanting your clothes off. 

“I can take these off?” 

“Take them off.” You reply, getting impatient. He watches you, and he still looks surprised. You bring your own hands down, and it sets him in motion, popping the button open and pulling them down your legs. 

“Baby, you’re doing okay?” He asks, as he tosses your shorts to the side.

“M’doin’ good Eddie, keep going please.” You breathe, squirming on the mattress. 

“Fuck, okay.” He replies, voice gravely again. He tugs your underwear down, tossing them to the floor and begins shifting backwards on the bed. It surprises you, pulling you out of your spinning daze as he disappears between your legs.

“Eddie, what are you doing?” You ask, sitting up slightly.

“M’gonna eat you out. That okay?” He asks, lifting his head to look back at you. You’re obviously familiar with the term, but you’ve never had anyone do it to you before, making his actions unexpected. You don’t know what you thought he was gonna do, but it wasn’t that.

You lay back down on the mattress, exhaling deeply.

“Hey? Is it okay? I don’t have to.” He says softly, getting your attention. His hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers.

“You can.” You reply nervously. He squeezes your hand.

“We can stop anytime, okay?” He says, eyes searching yours and making it clear that he means it. 

Trust is starting to seem more like an understatement. All of the good things you like about Eddie, you’ve always liked about him. Maybe it’s the way your head is spinning or maybe it’s just how Eddie’s always been, but you get a burning feeling for him. Not a desire or a neediness born from the heat of the moment, but like an adoration, like a particular thump of your heart exists just for him. 

“Okay” you reply, nodding your head.

Still holding your hand, he lowers himself again. His breath reaches your cunt and you feel shivers erupt up and down your spine, excitement blooming in your belly. 

“Just gonna ask you one thing, okay? Need your help a little, just tell me what you like, gotta tell me what feels good, okay?” He says softly, popping up once again to look at you. 

You nod, squeezing his hand, and he lowers his head again.

Your whole body jerks as you feel his tongue lick up your core. It’s wet and hot and something you’ve never felt before.

“Holy shit.” You gasp, squeezing his hand again. 

“Good or bad?” He asks from between your legs.

“Do it again.” 

He does it again and it’s good. Definitely good. 

“Good, Eddie. Really good.” You reply breathily. He squeezes your hand in acknowledgement before his tongue is on you again. The warm heat of his breath and his tongue meet your slit, licking up, parting your folds and catching on your clit, making you jolt again. 

When his thumb on the back of your hand starts running back and forth on your skin soothingly, you melt entirely. Relaxing into everything. 

His tongue explores your cunt, lapping up and down before he focuses on your clit, making you gasp. It feels like the almost pleasure you got last time but a million times better. It’s actual pleasure this time, not almost. It tingles all the way up into your belly and you can’t help the way your breathing turns into soft moans.

His tongue swirls around your clit and your mouth drops as your mind reels at the feeling.

“F-fuck.” You gasp when he switches to sucking, making your hips buck against him. “S’really good, Eddie.” You moan.

“You’re so wet this time, baby.” He groans, the vibrations of his words against you making you whimper. The tingles traveling to your belly start to tense, making your breathing turn into quick pants. You want to tell Eddie he’s doing a good job but you can’t get the words out through your gasps, so instead you find purchase on the back of his head with your free hand, tangling your fingers in his hair, hoping he’ll understand.

He switches between lapping at you, flicking his tongue, and sucking your clit. The wet sounds of his mouth against your cunt filling the room, adding to the way your body’s growing impossibly hot, stomach tightening into a tight knot. 

When you feel his fingers at your entrance, you gasp. He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. 

He pushes in one finger first, it’s similar to the prodding from before but much better with his mouth working against you. 

He works his finger in and out of you before slipping a second in and the slight stretch that comes with it leaves you reeling. You think that feeling alone is fantastic until he curves his fingers upwards into an almost hook shape. 

Prodding turns into straight pleasure as he wiggles his fingers in and out, hitting a place inside of you that leaves you gasping for air.

“Eddie. G-good.” You moan, your stomach tensing harshly. You feel your thighs start to shake as moans, gasps, and whines leave your mouth unwillingly. 

“You're getting really tight.” He hums, lips barely leaving your clit. All you can do is whimper as the vibrations of his voice push you further and further into pleasure. “Baby, you gonna cum?” He hums again. 

You nod your head ferociously not being able to produce words.

“That’s it, cum for me, baby.” He groans between flicks of his tongue. His words travel straight to your stomach adding to the pulsing knot.

Your hips buck insenstantly and you feel like you’ve lost total control of your body. All that you can feel is pleasure rippling through you like waves, hitting an all time high, and you break. You cum, harder than ever before. You’ve tried on your own before and it’s barely been worth noting, but this.. this is earth shattering. 

You feel weightless, floating, all of the tension leaving your body. It’s magnificent, perfect, it feels like you’re in a dream. The only thing that tethers you to reality, is Eddie’s hand in yours and the way his thumb gently pushes into the back of your hand. 

You feel yourself settling down from your high, but as Eddie’s mouth keeps working against you, you feel the edges of your vision go dark. Your body fights with prolonging and pushing away the pleasure as it takes you whole. 

“E-Eddie.” You choke out, squeezing his hand. Your hips buck, and he understands, slowing down.

Sucking in a deep breath, you squeeze his hand again and his motions come to a slow halt. 

You are astounded.

Absolutely astounded. 

You have no words.

You tug him by the hand, you need him closer.

“You okay?” He whispers, as he moves up by your side. You pull him by the hand, willing him to hold you as you turn on your side. He complies, giving you everything you need.

You take steady breaths that help you settle back into your body. It could be seconds, could be minutes, could be hours that pass, but eventually you catch your breath, finally grasping the moment. 

“Holy shit.” You exhale. Holding onto Eddie’s arm wrapped around your stomach.

“Was it good?” He asks nervously. You lean back, turning to lay flat on your back so you can see him.

“Was it good? Eddie, holy shit.” You say, widening your eyes as you take in his nervous features and flushing cheeks. Your eyes trail down to his slick coated face. His lips slowly curl into a smile and fuck, you finally understand how he felt after the first time. 

“It worked?” He laughs. 

You take his face in your hands and you kiss him hard. Yeah, it fucking worked, holy shit.

His tongue licks into your mouth immediately, his slick coated lips giving you a taste of yourself. Keeping your hands on his cheeks, you continue kissing him, tongues working in sync until you can’t keep up.

He kisses you breathless. When your head goes dizzy, all you can focus on is the reemerging pulse between your legs. 

Lowering your hands to his hips, you guide him on top of you. He tries to lift himself, hovering not to put all his weight on you but you need it, so you pull him until he rests flush against your body. 

Your hands explore up his chest, wrapping around his sides until you take purchase on his back, pulling him as close to you as you can.

Through his clothes, you feel his hardened length resting against you, and you roll your hips up looking for relief, making Eddie gasp into your mouth.

You do it again and his mouth stops moving against yours, feeding a whimper right into your lungs. 

“Clothes.” You pull away just enough to whisper, grinding your hips upwards against him. 

Eddie’s lips still against yours, he’s resolved into quickened breaths in and out, breathing into your mouth.

“Want you Eddie.” You whine, not getting enough relief from your grinding. 

“Clothes.” He echoes mindlessly, swallowing harshly. He doesn’t move, so you take to moving your hands down, folding your fingers under his belt, blindly searching for an edge to pull at.

“Take them off.” You say a little louder. 

“Right. Clothes.” He says, finally snapping out of whatever transfixion he was stuck in. 

He pulls away, and you miss the feeling of his chest against yours immediately. You watch as he undoes his belt and pants, pushing both his jeans and boxers down his thighs, struggling to get them off. Eventually, he takes to standing, nearly falling off the edge of your bed, making you giggle. When he finally has them off, he’s quick to resume his position overtop of you. 

“I’m getting ahead of myself. Need to make sure you’re doing good.” He says, blinking back the glazed over look in his eyes. 

“I’m doing so good, Eddie.” You purr, hands trailing up the expanse of his back. 

“Everything feels good? Do you need me to do anything else?” He brings a hand to the edge of your face, pushing your hair back, making your heart flutter and core ache at the same time. 

“Want you inside.” You whisper.

“I can do that.” He laughs breathily. He reaches down to the floor, his body weight laying on top of you as he reaches for his discarded pants. After a bit of fumbling, he sits up again, condom in hand. His hands slip on the packaging until he grows frustrated, ripping the corner of the foil open with his teeth. You feel heat pool in your core at the sight, wanting him more than you’ve ever wanted anything. 

“Eddie, you’re so pretty.” You say breathily, his eyes flicker up to you from his focus as he rolls the condom down his length. You see pink raise on his cheeks as his lips turn up at the corners.

“You think so?”

“Know so. So beautiful and cute and adorable and hot and I want you.” You ramble, feeling absolutely drunk off of how insanely fast he has your head spinning with lust. You want him in a lot of different ways, every way. You raise your hands to his shoulders tugging him closer.

“My pretty girl.” He whispers, dipping his face down to kiss you.

“Yours.” You mumble against his lips right before they meet yours. It rolls off your tongue naturally and it feels right. You’re his. Entirely enraptured by him, entirely swept up by him. 

You can pinpoint the exact moment he processes what you said. He had started kissing you hungrily, then it was like it hit him. His mouth stopped moving against yours, and when you slid a hand up to hold his jawline, his mouth started to move again, but differently. 

The kiss turned sweet, gentle, tender. It turned meaningful and slow, like every touch of his lips against yours and every caress of his tongue had purpose. You indulge yourself in the change of pace until you can't anymore.

“Eddie, please.” 

“I got you, sweet girl.” He whispers.

The sunsetting leaves the two of you in the low golden glow. Eddie’s face illuminates with the light bleeding in through your sheer curtains and your heart beats a little faster as you watch him lean back, his cock in his hand, rubbing his fist up and down his length once before lining it up with your entrance. 

The confidence he holds now, compared to last time, makes you swallow thickly. Last time it was cute and endearing, this time, he works you into pleasure and it leaves you reeling for more. This time he says you’re his, and you agree. You always have been in a way. Trust was a disguise, trust was a front. You like Eddie. You always have. 

“Ready, pretty girl?” He asks, voice low as he stares into your eyes. You feel his head at your entrance and you clench in anticipation.

“Ready.” You chorus, relaxing yourself. It’s literal in the way you relax your muscles, but it’s also metaphorical in the way you open yourself up entirely for him. This isn’t your first time, but it’s the time that matters. It’s the time where he is completely himself and you are completely yourself. It’s everything you wanted and more— more that you didn’t realize you needed until now.

He pushes in and you both sigh in tandem. Your sighs mature into moans as he slowly pushes in, fully bottoming out inside of you.

“Does it hurt?” He asks, voice quiet and carefilled.

“Not like last time.” You answer.

“Sorry, baby.” He whispers, dipping his face to yours, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Sorry it hurt last time and I didn’t even kiss it better.” He continues, pressing another gentle kiss to your lips.

“S’okay, Eddie. You’re doing so good now, feels so good.” You reply, voice just as quiet as his. You pull his face down, pressing your own tender kiss to his lips before trailing your hands down the front of his chest, rounding them to hold his sides. 

He shifts his hips, withdrawing from you slowly. You guide him with your hands, willing him to keep going, and he does. 

“S’feel okay?” Eddie says through a strangled breath. 

“Feels good.” You breathe.

“You sure? We can put a pillow under—” he starts to explain, slowing his already slow motions.

“Want you to go faster.” You interrupt.

“Faster.” He echoes, almost like he’s coaching himself. You hum as he complies, drawing his hips and pushing them back into you at a quicker pace. 

Him filling you up and stretching you out felt entirely different this time, way better, and it has you absolutely dizzy. It’s not prodding this time, it’s more like a roll that leaves you breathless, panting just to fill your lungs. His cock grazes your sweet spot with every pump into you and with every other thrust, his hips meet yours completely, teasing your clit with their contact. 

“Harder.” You whisper, and he complies silently apart from the way he harshly sucks in a breath.

His hips begin snapping against yours, the slap of skin on skin echoing in your room mixing with the obscene, wet noises of his cock pushing in and out of you, complimenting the breathy moans and whimpers coming from both of your mouths. Each thrust hits your clit, making you shudder, hips jolting and stuttering with your pleasure.

You feel your insides start to tense and you know you’re close. His thrusts start to falter as his breathing turns ragged.

“So close Eddie, please.” You whine. He breaths a whimper, hips picking up again, returning to his quick, hard pace. 

“Cum for me, baby. Need you to cum for me.” He says breathily, voice pitching up. His hand reaches down past your belly, fingers finding your clit, rubbing it and it sends your hips into a spasm of stutters.

“Eddie.” You cry. You feel your body go rigid before your pleasure explodes, freeing you from the reigns of tension and pushing you into pure ecstasy.

Eddie only musters a few more thrusts with the way your cunt clamps down onto his cock, fluttering and pulsing all around him as your orgasm takes you over. Strangled whimpers pull from his lungs as he prolongs your pleasure until he breaks alongside you. 

“F-fuck. Shit. I’m c-cumming.” He grunts, cock twitching inside you as his balls press firmly against your ass. His hips stutter, shallow thrusts pushing in and out, the warmth of his cum filling the condom. With your half lidded eyes, you watch Eddie— his face contorting in pleasure, and you enjoy the moment, committing it to memory. 

Eddie stills completely apart from his heavy breathing that matches yours. He surprises you when he rolls onto his back, taking you with him, pulling you over his chest, his cock still firmly pressed inside of you. 

“Eddie.” You laugh breathily. 

“J-just need to feel you for another minute.” He replies hazily, eyes squeezed shut. His hands wrap around your back, hugging you closely and you relax into him tentatively. His hands pull you down again, and you have no choice but to put all of your weight on him.

When your combined panting resolves to steady breathing, he breaks the silence. “Was that better?” He asks, pushing his head back into the pillow to look at you.

“That was… better than better. Way, way, way better.” You say whimsily. It was perfect, it was everything, you don’t have any words. 

“Yeah?” 

“That was like… I don’t even know. I can’t even describe it, just so so good. Really.” You say in awe, reflecting on what just happened.

“You can tell me the truth.”

“Eddie.” You say warningly, lifting your head to really look at him. “If you studied like that for all your classes you’d be valedictorian. A++, honestly Eddie.” You say.

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” He asks, still sounding unsure.

“You should frame those notes you wrote, hang them up like a diploma in your room.”

“Okay, now you’re just teasing me.” He laughs, turning his head away from you to hide his smile. 

“No! And you wanna know how serious I’m being right now?” You say, reaching up and taking one of his curls, swirling it around your finger, grabbing his attention.

“How?” He asks, turning back to you. 

“Because I’m already thinking about doing it again.” You whisper. You watch Eddie as his smile grows. 

“Really?” He asks, eyes beaming.

“Yes.” You nod, pressing your lips together as your smile grows. 

You watch Eddie as a whirlwind of emotions take over his face, it’s disbelief, happiness, excitement, a few you can’t parse, before it settles into nervousness. It makes your belly knot in nerves immediately. 

“Last time… I was— after, I was so upset because…” He starts, eyes fluttering over your face, avoiding your gaze. He takes a breath before continuing. “I was so upset because I wanted to ask you out, and then after the sex was bad, I kind of figured you’d never go out with me.”

“You wanted to ask me out?” You say, pushing yourself up with your arms to see his full face. 

His eyes flood with worry, and you reach down, pushing his damp bangs from his forehead. He finally looks at you and all you can do is smile. His nerves settle the slightest bit as he relaxes into his own sheepish smile. 

“I would still like to, if that’s okay with you?” He asks, shyly.

“It’s really okay with me.” You reply.

“Maybe I can ask when I’m not still inside you?” He laughs softly, eyes flickering to your lips. “Not that I don’t think this is romantic, but…” he trails off when you start laughing, watching you closely as you do, dimples set deeply in his cheeks.

You nod your head before lowering your face to his. He meets you halfways, pressing his mouth to yours, kissing you sweetly. 

“My pretty girl.” He whispers as he pulls away. 

“Yours.” You whisper back, smiling. 

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

After a few more moments of you resting on top of Eddie, the two of you begin to shift, slowly separating from one another. Lazily cleaning yourselves up, trading discarded clothes as you pick them up from the floor, it’s a good memory, one you want to keep forever. 

The sun now tucked beneath the skyline, your room glows in the low light form your lamp, Eddie’s heartbeat serving as the background music to this moment. You settle deeper into his chest, and he hugs you tighter.

It wasn’t the first time, but it was the time that mattered the most. 

As far as silent moments go, there’s not many with Eddie. He breaks the quiet of the room, shifting to look at you. 

“I think I might want to be a vagina doctor, I know so much shit about vaginas now.” He says, completely serious. You choke on a laugh, surprised by his comment.

“Really?” 

“No.” He says, tilting his face so you can see his smile. “Just know a lot now.” He laughs.

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Summer of love | B.B

Just before summer break you think you will spend all day in front of the television with lot of ice cream and even more romantic movies to dream about. Little do you know that your ex-boyfriend’s rival will turn your summer into a dream itself.

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x College!Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 11.106 Words

Warnings: college au, football captain Bucky, ex-boyfriend’s rival!Bucky, break up (not Bucky), fluff, love, bit angst, Bucky being emotional, love confession, more fluff, so much more fluff, did I mention: fluff!

Authors Note: The biggest thank you to @thevillainswhore for the title, for helping to decide pictures and proofreading. I’m so grateful and I love you!❤️❤️

Events: Writing Challenge | College Au; saying ‘I love you’ for the first time | @elixirfromthestars

Bucky Barnes Bingo | B023 | Y2 | AU: Sports | @buckybarnesbingo | Seasonal Delights Bingo: Types of love | G5 | unlikely friendship | @seasonaldelightsbingo | Multifandom Flash Bingo: Compliments | Row One-Three | I’ll take that as a compliment | @multifandom-flash

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Your world broke down when you looked at your phone and saw the message your boyfriend — now ex-boyfriend — sent you. It was just after the last lesson of the day — summer break had started.

You were sure as hell that he was going to fuck every girl that had an interest in him, which were a lot considering he was the captain of one of the college’s football teams.. He was handsome and well trained but his character? Well, that was something you would prefer not to talk about.

John was a nice, gentle boy when the two of you were alone. He took care of you and made you feel loved — most of the time at least. But whenever he was around his friends or anywhere the two of you could be seen together, he kept his distance. He didn’t bother to hold your hand or kiss you in public. When you had dates outside your dorms, it was mostly in small coffee shops or the next town where no one would see you together.

When you repeatedly asked him if he was ashamed,  he would just shake his head and tell you that you overreacted, that he just has to keep his image, he couldn’t  just date anybody. You tried to tell him that other boys show off their girls too but he still kept your relationship as much a secret as possible.

Even though people heard the rumor that the two of you were dating — some of them having seen you —he never made it clear that you belong to him. So you often had the bitchy girls who laughed at you, gave you side eyes or commented on your relationship with John. ‘How fake it was’ — and maybe they were right.

However, while John was probably using his whole summer to have fun and fuck around — having the best time ever — you would probably sit in your room and cry until your eyes burned. He hadn’t treated you as perfect as you wished for, like men do in your romantic books or movies, but he still ripped your heart out and shattered it into tiny little pieces. So, chocolate and lots of ice cream would become your best friends during your summer break, giving you the comfort you so desperately sought. You were sure you wouldn’t find a man who  would love you.

Maybe it wasn't even  that he broke up with you that hurt you so much, but the way he did it — through a message. He didn’t even have enough balls to tell you personally that he was done with you. No, he sent it as a message — two messages in fact, which now that you thought about it, made you want to punch him in his face. Hard.

You figured that was the reason why he hadn’t told you face to face. Because he didn’t want the backlash of your reaction. You may have been angry, but you would never lay a hand on him — even if he did deserve it. He may have broken your heart but you weren’t a monster. But for now, you were still sitting in school, staring at the message to try and find a little hint that it all was a joke. Your eyes were teary and your vision blurry when you re-read the message over and over again. There had to be a hint that it was a joke. He wouldn’t break up with you, right?

The feeling that John really meant those words settled heavily into your stomach. You inhaled deeply to try and stop your body from shaking. He couldn’t  mean it — he just couldn’t. The two of you were together for two years already and he threw it away like it meant nothing to him. Or maybe the reason he mentioned in his messages is true and he just wanted to have a summer break.

Your eyes roamed over your phone once again. The screen was blurred by your tears but you could still read it. Over and over again but it didn’t change a thing, it only made your thoughts run faster and  louder, but nothing else.

John: Hi, I’ll make it short. Things between us became boring and I know you wouldn’t allow me to have sex with anyone. Even though there wouldn’t be any feelings, I have to break up with you.

John: It’s neither your nor my fault, we just remind me of old people. We’re always doing the same things and I need action. So if you give me the summer break, we can date after the summer again.

He was your first real boyfriend but you didn't want to be second best. That’s exactly what you would be if you went back to him after summer break. He broke your heart, and he hurt you a lot — but that didn’t  mean you were a naive, little fucktoy for him to use becuase it was easy to date you. You never complained much and he always had you when he didn't feel well or frustrated.

And John may have been right that things between the two of you became boring, but he never had time for you in the first place. Everything else was more important and when he did have time for you, it was mostly sex or he came over really late. The dates became very rare, and you just wished he would have had more time for you but you didn’t want to push him or force him either.

You lowered your phone and inhaled deeply. With one hand you wiped the tears off your face, trying to calm down before you felt ready to go home. They all were right, he played with you, or at least he was ashamed to be with you and you never noticed — or just ignored it.

“Whatcha doin’ here?” A rough voice came from next to you and you immediately tilted your head to look at the young man who took a place next to you on a chair. His brown, long hair was tied to a bun, just a few strands fell into his handsome face and framed it. He smiled softly at you, leaning on the table with his head still turned toward you. “Who’s causing those tears?”

His smile slowly faded when he noticed your red eyes and the traces of tears over your cheek. Almost instinctively, he brought one of his hands to your cheeks, cupping it softly. His thumb caressed your cheek, removing the tears. The brown haired man was gentle, his ocean blue eyes pierced into yours and when you finally offered him a soft smile, he grinned at you, again.

“So, who caused this pretty girl to cry at the beginning of summer break,” he asked, his voice rough but so soft. You almost melted into his touch, his warmth sending shivers through your body and you needed a moment to gather your thoughts before you spoke.

“I— my boyfriend or now ex-boyfriend. He sent me a message that he wants to have the summer for himself and after we could date again,” you answered, smiling softly at the man in front of you. He shook his head, knowing that the smile on your lips was nothing but fake, and as much as he loved to see you smile, he didn’t  want you to force one onto your lips to play your hurt off. “What are you doing here still, James?”

James’ eyes widened when his name slipped past your lips. Before he could stop himself, he grinned even wider at you. “Ya know my name, huh, babydoll? I had something to clear up with the coach.”

“Of course, I do. You're one of the most famous boys in college,” you said and he nodded. You weren’t  wrong. Even students who didn’t follow football knew of him too. On the other hand, your ex-boyfriend was James' rival. “You're the captain of the football team, or the captain of one of them. The other is John…”

James nodded again, then he cleared his throat and tilted your head up with his hand that still captured your cheek. “Yeah…” he trailed off slightly. “So, can we get back to ya statement, that he sent ya a message to break up with ya. Ya know that’s how little school boys do it.”

You chuckled softly, nodding. You definitely knew that it wasn’t a nice way to break up with someone you used to love but you couldn’t change it. You let your eyes trail over James' handsome face for a moment, taking in every small detail of his pretty face. You had never been this close to him before and he looked even more stunning up close.

“Ya droolin’, babydoll,” James pointed out and used his pointer finger to close your mouth. Your eyes widened and you wiped over your mouth, growling at him when you didn't feel the saliva. “Jus’ wanted to warn ya before ya make a fool out of ya'self.”

You nodded, glaring at him for a moment longer before you finally found the courage and the words to tell him what was on your mind since he mentioned that John's behavior was kind of childish. You inhaled deeply, letting your eyes wander back to his beautiful blue ones. Your tongue poked out, wetting your lips and you noticed with a giggle that James eyes immediately darted down to your lips.

“It's not the only shitty thing he did,” you mumbled. James' eyes widened in curiosity. He didn’t  want to push you to tell him, but he would have loved to hear what his rival was like when he had such a pretty girl like you by his side. “He said we became boring, and that's neither mine nor his fault. Maybe he is right, but he never had time, it was mostly about sex, or nights together but otherwise he was always busy.”

You weren’t even sure why you told James about that but he was the only one who seemed curious and you just hoped he wouldn't use it against you. If anything, he would probably only use it against John.

James nodded, his eyes narrowed and he looked away for a moment. His hand never left your cheek and it gave you more comfort than you thought it would. But you were glad he sat down next to you and used his time to let you talk about John, offering you the comfort you were seeking so badly. When he looked back at you, his eyes glistened with something you had never seen before but it made you feel warm and safe with him.

“What a shame, with such a pretty girl by his side too…” he mumbled more to himself. “Did he at least introduce ya to his friends and family? The two of ya were together for over two years, right?”

You nodded slightly, definitely surprised by James' knowledge of your and John's relationship. “Yes but he didn't introduce me to his family. I know his friends but not really, he always tried to meet up when no one else was around.”

“So….” James trailed off, he already knew the answer but he wanted to hear it again — he wanted to hear that John was a dick who couldn't treat his girlfriend like a man but like a school boy. His ocean blue eyes were piercing into yours again, his lips were slightly curled up. “He didn't show you off — neither to his family, nor to his friends, when possible — not to the world?”

You shook your head. “N-No, not once… his friends saw us together maybe once or twice but we never went to their birthdays together. I-I was invited too, but John said I wouldn't like it there so he already told them I wasn’t interested in coming to their parties.”

“Dickhead,” James mumbled under his breath. His eyes never left yours and he inhaled deeply. “He's an idiot.”

You shrugged, smiling softly. But as much as you tried to hide the pain, it didn’t work with Bucky looking at you so intensely like he could read your soul. His fingers still caressed your cheek, two of them moving to your jaw and wandering along to your chin and back to your ear. “It's not that much of a big deal…”

James huffed with an amused expression on his face, shaking his head slightly. The few strands that hung in his face moved with his head from side to side. You wanted to wrap them around your fingers and play with his brown strands. “Oh, ya don't know how much of a big deal that is when a boy doesn't show off his girl by his side. If ya were mine, I would show you off to everyone — would make sure everyone knows you belong to me. I would even kiss ya in public, so everyone would know that this pretty girl is mine — would show ya off to everyone! Whatever ya ask for, wish for, it would be yours so ya know how much I care about ya.”

“What if—“ you thought for a moment before speaking your thoughts out loud. “If I would ask for the world, or for the stars? You can’t give them to me.” You chuckled softly, your heart beat faster when you heard his words. But at the same time you knew that he couldn’t give you everything. As much as a person loves someone, no one can give one the world, or the stars right?

“Trust me, babydoll, if you asked me for the world, I would get it for you. You want the stars? Oh, babydoll, you would get even those. A man has to carry his princess in his hands or else he isn’t worth her attention and love,” James said, he let his hand travel from your cheek to your chin. He tilted your head up with his hand underneath your chin, getting all of your attention. “How about that… ya put your stuff into ya bag. And then I invite ya to get ice cream with me.”

James pulled your stuff closer and waited patiently for you to put it into your bag. He leaned back in his seat, his ocean blue eyes roaming over your body, mostly over your face. You put your things into your bag, his offer is too good to say no. With one smooth movement you closed the zipper of your bag.

You got off, and swung the bag to carry it over your shoulder but James grasped it with one hand and took it out of your hand. With a smirk he got up as well and walked towards the door of the classroom, waiting for you to follow him.

“Whatcha looking like that? Ya comin’ or want to stay there all day?” He grinned at you. With his free hand, he tucked a strand of his long, brown hair behind his ear. “Told ya, a man has to carry his girl in his hands, now get ya pretty ass over here or I’m gonna eat all the ice cream by myself.”

Your mouth dropped open at his words, clearly to his amusement. You walked toward him, closing your mouth slowly before you reached for your bag but James turned to the side and trapped it between him and the door. He smirked at you, holding his hand into the direction he wanted you to walk. James' slightly raised eyebrow gave you no room to argue with him.

“You don’t know if my ass is pretty, maybe you don’t like it,” you said with a shrug. James waited a moment before he followed you, his eyes roaming down your back to your swinging hips and your ass. He had to hold back a moan as a response to your beauty and the way your hips swayed from one side to the other.

He then walked through the hallway, following you until he walked next to you. “Ya have the most beautiful ass I’ve ever seen. But I couldn't have imagined it otherwise, ya’re the prettiest girl.”

It wasn’t like he had checked out a lot of girls, almost none since he had a crush on someone. James couldn’t look at another girl the same anymore after he fell in love, it felt like he had cheated and he didn’t like the feeling, even though the girl didn’t even know he was in love with her.

“Do you have a girlfriend, James? I mean, you're a football captain, handsome, nice. You should go to her instead of getting ice cream with your rival's ex-girlfriend,” you asked, curious about the captain's answer. You didn’t know much about him, he wasn’t a playboy — that was for sure. You had only seen him fielding once with a girl, maybe it was just talking to her.

“No girlfriend. Have a crush on someone but she doesn’t know about it,” he said with a shrug and opened the front door to let you walk outside first. You thanked him, feeling butterflies in your stomach about such a small but meaningful gesture. “Ya can call me Bucky. Most of my friends call me Bucky.”

“Okay, then, Bucky, who don’t you tell her?” A groan left his plump lips and you giggled softly. That was the topic every guy tried to avoid when he talked to girls. But since it was just you and him, he would maybe tell you more about her. “You look good but don’t talk to girls, that’s definitely a good thing when it comes to girls.”

Bucky nodded. He knew what girls liked and what they didn’t like — mostly because of his friends in the team who had girlfriends. He was not just once in the middle of an argument where he had to assure the girl that the team went out without other girls.

“I know, but ya know. Don’t think she even noticed me.” Bucky said, leading you to his car. His big hand had found its way to the small of your back after you had left the building with him. His hand was warm and comforting.

“How can someone not notice you? You’re the captain of the football team.” You were almost shocked about his statement. Everyone who wasn’t completely new in school knew about the captains of the teams — mostly even knew about the other members of the team. They were all pretty handsome and the typical guy girls read in books when they tried to make their perfect boyfriend in their minds.

“Because not everyone likes football? Some people ignore us too,” Bucky said. He opened his car, letting you sit before he shut the door and walked around the car, getting into it as well. He had a dark blue Jeep, it was clean and you were surprised that it was really that clean.

Bucky was a college boy, a football college boy. So you thought he would have a messy car, but instead it was even cleaner than yours would probably be.

“You really love that car?” You earned a nod, followed by a chuckle. Bucky's cheeks heated up and he wanted to hit his head against the steering wheel, he made a fool out of himself with you being so close to him.

“Yeah, don’t like it messy. Ya, don’t look at me like that, I know whatcha wanted to say!” Bucky laughed, starting the car to drive the two of you to his favorite ice shop. “You will love the ice there, they have more flavors than you can imagine.”

The two of you stayed silent for a moment, both stuck in your minds and thoughts. Your eyes were focused on Bucky while he was focused on the street. Even though he didn’t turn his head, he watched you out of the corner of his eye, smirking to himself when he noticed that you stared at him once again.

After a few minutes you cleared your throat, getting him to turn his face for a moment toward you. Bucky offered you a soft smile before his eyes darted back to the street, but he was still letting you know that he listens to you with a hum.

“Why are you doing this for me? I mean, you don’t know me and I’m just the pathetic ex-girlfriend of your rival,” you asked, smacking yourself mentally for even asking that. But you didn’t want him to do that for you because he felt pity.

“I will tell ya at the end of the summer break,” he said, his eyes finding yours once again. He could see the way you were looking at him, that there was more behind the question than just curiosity. “You’re not a burden and I don’t do it because I feel pity for you, so get those thoughts out of your pretty mind immediately, babydoll.”

You chuckled, eyes still remaining on Bucky while he drove the two of you to the ice cream shop he loved so much. Little did you know, it was also your favorite one, only when you arrived did your eyes widen and you stared at Bucky with an excited glisten in your eyes. He grinned at you, getting out of the car to almost run around so he could open the door for you, while you stared at the shop with a huge grin on your face.

“My lady,” Bucky smirked and offered you his hand to take. He helped you get out of the car, his lips curled even further up when he noticed that you couldn’t take your eyes off the ice cream shop. “Like that?”

“I—” you trailed off, letting your eyes wander to meet Bucky's ocean blue ones. You smirked at him, raising an eyebrow before clearing your throat to hide the excitement. Even though you were pretty sure Bucky knew how excited you were already. “I don't just like it… I LOVE IT. That's my favorite ice cream shop!”

You had always wanted to go here with John, but he would just shake his head and tell you that the one closer to your apartment was just as good or that this one was too expensive for just ice cream. He wasn't wrong, it wasn’t as cheap as other smaller ones. But the others didn’t have that amount of different ice creams and they didn’t taste as good as they did in your favorite ice cream shop.

Bucky nodded, taking your hand into his and interlacing your fingers. His grip was firm but so comforting that you didn’t even think about removing your hand from his. The two of you walked then slowly to the entrance of the little building. It wasn’t as full as you thought it would be, even a few tables were free and you already looked around to find the best place before you had even decided which ice cream you wanted.

“You already know what you want?” Bucky asked and got your attention back. He had already pulled you toward the counter, greeting the woman behind it. The brown haired man didn’t offer her the smile he showed you, she only got a small grin which didn't even reach his sparkling eyes. The moment his eyes landed on you, his eyes were even softer and his smile bigger, lighting up the blue in his eyes. “You can have as many as you want.”

“I know I'm gonna pay for my ice cream myself.” You mumbled and looked at all the different ones to decide which ones you wanted. Bucky grunted, he would definitely pay for the ice cream, he wouldn't have asked you if he let you pay for it yourself. He nodded slowly, glaring at the woman behind the counter, letting her know that he would pay. You looked up at her, smiling softly. “I—”

You stuttered when you tried to decide if you really wanted those flavors or different but then you let her finally know which you wanted. Your eyes wandered to Bucky, who had a mischievous grin on his face and you rolled your eyes, letting your head fall against his shoulder and looked up at him.

“You won't let me pay for my ice cream, right?” He shook his head, looking down at you with the most intense but softest expression you had ever seen on someone's face. You were not sure what there was between you and him but it gave you the comfort you were always looking for — you didnt really know him but it felt like you had known him forever already.

“I asked you out, so I'm gonna pay. No discussion, just get your ice cream and get us a table,” Bucky said and leaned his head against yours for a moment until the woman behind the counter gave you your ice cream and you did as you were told after mumbling a soft ‘thank you’ into Bucky's shoulder.

— —

The first few days of summer break you spent in your apartment, wrapped into a blanket and watching a lot of movies while eating even more ice cream. But instead of crying your eyes out, you had company from your — now — best friend. After your ice cream date with Bucky the two of you walked through the park until the sun went down and even then you two had so much more to talk about — so you offered to meet him the next day. And that's exactly what the two of you did, since then you met every day.

Bucky always brought you small presents and gave you a lot of compliments. You could stand in front of him in a dress or in your pajamas with messy hair — he always told you how beautiful and stunning you were. You first didn't believe him, thinking it was just a joke but whenever you looked into his ocean blue eyes, there was nothing but the truth and love visible.

Today he asked you to go out with him again. He had a surprise and who were you to say no to such a sweet and gentle man? Bucky didn’t just help you to forget about John, but he also showed you what love and affection really meant. He wasn’t afraid to show you off to the world, even though you were not his girl, yet.

“Babydoll, are ya ready?” he asked, peeking through the door of your bedroom with a smirk. Bucky knew that you were at least dressed, otherwise he wouldn't look without permission. When his eyes met yours you blushed softly but shook your head.

Bucky's eyes widened, he then narrowed them and took a step into your bedroom. You looked so perfect in your outfit — just like always, so why weren’t you ready? He noticed the slight struggle in your eyes when he let his roam over your body. Without a word he understood what was stopping you from being ready for your date with him.

Bucky walked closer, his arms reaching out and pulling you toward him. He snook his arms around your waist, pressing his broad chest against your back before he turned the two of you around so you were looking at the two of you in the mirror. “You're beautiful, look at ya. Ya’re the most beautiful and I'm honored that you allow me to take ya out. Don't ya think you look pretty?”

You swallowed thickly. Bucky looked stunning, always so perfectly fine and every girl was staring at him. He could have anyone and the feelings you developed slowly for him didn’t 

 help your running thoughts — they only made it worse. Especially because John had never asked you out like that, he never wanted to show you off to anyone. But Bucky acted like you were the only girl in the world — little did you know, in his world you were the only one.

“Y-You're so pretty…” You mumbled, causing Bucky to chuckle into your neck. He had his head placed on your shoulder, staring at you in his arms through the mirror with a smile. He wouldn’t leave the room, not until he’s sure it was what you wanted too — otherwise he would just carry you into the living room and cuddle with you all night. “You're so perfect, stunning. Every girl is always staring at you, and you could have them all… And I am just me.”

“Ya don't understand, do ya? I don't care who is looking at me, they can look all they want,” Bucky said into your neck, trying to hold himself back so he wouldn’t confess everything. “Do ya remember the day where we went the first time to the ice cream shop? Ya said it ya’self, that I'm not a playboy. Let them look, they aren't out with me, are they? Plus the thing I’ve planned for the two of us is just ya and me.”

He wanted to say so much more, but he just couldn’t. At least not right now, it wasn’t that he didn’t mean it or is scared, but he wanted to prove it all to you, before he made the next step. Bucky wanted you to see that he meant everything he said and then — then he would do the next step with you.

You nodded softly, letting Bucky lead you out of the bedroom. His arms were still around your waist, his chest pressed against your back while the two of you walked through the floor toward your living room to pick up your phone and his bag.

“Do you trust me, babydoll?” With a soft smirk you turned your head to face Bucky, nodding slightly once again. “Then trust me that you're stunning and you are you but that's the point, that's what makes you special. You make yourself special.”

Bucky’s expression was soft but serious. You didn’t have words, knowing that he meant every single word he said without doubt.

“T-thank you,” you mumbled, sending a shiver through Bucky’s body. He adored the way you reacted whenever he made a compliment, so shy and just cute.

He led you to his car, still being such a gentleman and when you first thought it was just to impress you, you were now pretty sure that Bucky was always like that around someone he likes. He didn’t promise you too much when he said that a man had to carry his girl in his hands — you may not have been his girl but he did it anyway.

As much as you tried to find out where the two of you were going, he didn't tell you. Bucky was good at changing topics when it came to a surprise and you didn't get the tiniest of information out of him.

Bucky kept his soft smile the whole time while he drove the car through the streets of the town, you were pretty sure you sometimes drove in circles so he could confuse you because everything looked alike. When he stopped the car in a quiet, almost empty parking space.

“So, ya can either close ya eyes and promise me to keep them close, or I’m gonna use that pretty scarf to cover ya eyes until we’re there.” He held a soft, fluffy scarf in front of him and you trusted him enough that he wouldn’t let you run against something. You knew you would try to sneak, so you had to decide that Bucky should use the scarf to cover your eyes.

“I- maybe… I won’t sneak?” You giggled, it didn't sound serious enough for Bucky so he just wrapped the soft fabric around your head and tied it together. You felt his warm breath against your cheek, your breath hitched and you dug your fingers into your thighs, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach.

“So, how many fingers do you see?” Bucky chuckled, leaning back to hold his hands in front of your face. Instead of fingers he made a heart with his hands, smirking at you.

Your chuckle brought him back to reality, his eyes shot from your lips back to your covered eyes and he waited for an answer. “Mhm…. Three?” You giggled, not seeing anything because of the scarf in front of your eyes.

“Guess again,” he smirked, letting his hand fall down before he got out of the car. Bucky walked around, opening the door for you to help you out as well. He took care that you didn’t hit your head somewhere. “We are walking a bit but it’s not far, and I promise I won’t let you run into something.”

With that he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you tight against his chest to make sure he had control where to go and that you wouldn’t fall or hurt yourself somewhere.

You had never trusted someone before that much that you would have let them cover your eyes and lead you somewhere. But with Bucky it felt different, you knew that — you felt it — that he would never do anything where you could be in danger or hurt yourself. You trusted him with everything, and you used every opportunity to show him just that.

Bucky led you a bit, holding you firmly pressed against him. His fingers played with the fabric of your dress, tickling you softly. “Don’t squirm, babydoll.”

“Then don’t tickle me,” you giggled, trying to get away from his tickles. Bucky laughed, pulling you even closer but stopped tickling you.

“Can’t keep my hands to myself when it causes such sweet noises from you,” he mumbled into your neck. The two of you walked a bit further and when you inhaled deeply you smelt some flowers but also water. You didn’t know where you were, but it had to be pretty because Bucky told you that he had never brought people there with him before.

When Bucky stopped he took a step backwards, one of his hands remaining on you, while he untied the scarf around your head. The soft fabric fell down your face and you caught one side of it with your hands, the other was stuck in Bucky’s big hand.

You needed a moment to get used to the sun but when you opened your eyes and looked around your mouth drops open. Bucky had brought a blanket and food there. In front of you was also a small lake surrounded by trees and some floors in front of it. It was the most beautiful place you had ever seen.

“B-Bucky…” you said quietly, turning your head to face Bucky. He grinned at you, his eyes shining beautiful in the light of the sun combined with the way he smiled at you. He was proud of himself for making you happy and impressed with such a small gesture. “This is… it’s amazing. I love it, it’s so beautiful.”

He let go of you to take a step away, taking out his phone. He opeed the camera and turned around, pulling you in front of him, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist as he snapped a photo of the two of you. Only when he showed you the photo did you notice why he took a step to the side — it now showed everything, the trees, the flowers, the lake, the blanket with the food and the two of you with a huge smile across your faces.

“Ya know, it’s my new background now,” Bucky explained as he made it his new background. Now you were smiling at him every time he turned his phone on. And everyone knew you were his.

You smiled, already decided that you were going to use that or a picture you would take of him or him and you as background as well. It was such a sweet idea and you would love to look at him whenever you looked at your phone.

“Now sit down. I made the cake myself!” Bucky said with a proud smirk on his face as he pointed at the cake. It was your favorite one, you told him about it and you already noticed that it just looked like the description you gave him.

“You’re the best.” With a giggle you sat down, Bucky did the same, taking a seat next to you and offering you some food and drinks.

The cake was perfect, just like you described it and you wouldn’t have know better, you would have guessed he bought it from a baker. You suggested that Bucky could become a baker, he would be rich in no time. But he just chuckled and shook his head.

His eyes roamed over your face before he looked into your eyes once again. He was the first person you didn’t mind staring into one another’s eyes for hours. “I’m only baking for my best girl.”

Your cheeks heated up and you had to look away. You were still not used to all his compliments and sweet words. And Bucky used every opportunity to make you blush, loving the way you smiled shyly at him before you had to look away for a moment. But then, you couldn’t even look away for long, and he adored the effect he had on you, he could spend all day just watching you giggle and blushing. Bucky wouldn’t mind listening to you all day either, as long as it was you who was around.

The two of you sat there, talking about everything and nothing. You had never laughed that much with someone like you did with Bucky. He knew all your weaknesses and strengths, the two of you hadn’t even talked for over two weeks but he was your best friend already. The only one you knew you could be completely honest and open around, he could read you like a book anyway.

When the sun went down, you were sitting between Bucky's legs, your back pressed against his chest. He drew small circles on your stomach while you watched the sunset. It was the most beautiful yellow followed by red until it was only the clouds that were still painted in a slight pink before it became dark around you.

You shivered lightly in Bucky arms, pressing yourself further against him. With a smirk he removed his hands from you, grasping his bag. “I have a present for ya,” he told you before he placed his bag in front of you. “Open it.”

Your slightly shaking hands opened the zipper of his backpack and your eyes narrowed when you saw just some fabric inside until you noticed what it was. Your eyes widened when you tilted your head slightly and took it out of the bag. In your hands you held a hoodie, and it wasn’t just one. It was Bucky’s football hoodie, where his number and his name were big on the back. You pulled it closer, burying your face in his hoodie and inhaling his scent. Bucky chuckled, he looked at you like a puppy in love — and he was exactly that. “Y-You give me your hoodie?”

Bucky leaned his head on your shoulder, nodding. “If ya want to. Ya can also have another one or just for yet so ya won't freeze. But actually I thought I would love the sight of my name on ya back.”

Sometime at the start of the summer break, the two of you made that unwritten plan to spend all the time together. You never asked him if you could spend some more time, neither did he. He just took you out, making sure you wanted to but slowly he had the feeling you could have moved into his apartment with him. He knew he hugged you all the time, made sure you’re happy and the urge to tell you about his true feelings got bigger with every day.

But as much as he wanted to tell you — he didn’t want to do it just yet. He wanted to give you the whole summer break to see that he didn’t have the intention to get into bed with you. Bucky wanted you to see that you were worth so much more than what John was willing to give you. Bucky wanted to show you what real love meant, he wanted you to crave him just as much as he craved you.

This night Bucky spent at your apartment, he made pudding for the two of you. The two of you were wrapped in a blanket together and he held you as close as possible. You had the best sleep in years, knowing that Bucky would be still there in the morning when you woke up. And you were right, he had you pulled onto him, your head resting on his chest and you listened to his steady heartbeat. His heartbeat and his scent had such a calming effect on you, and you used every opportunity to be as close to him as possible. His arms, his embrace felt like home.

His morning voice was the hottest you could imagine, it was slightly rougher than his usual and it sent shivers down your spine every time. Bucky almost moved into your apartment with time, he brought most of his stuff like clothes so he could spend all day and all night with you. And even though he allowed you to take his clothes if you wanted, he didn't realise he would have to wash them so often because you stopped wearing yours. So you both wore Bucky clothes — you offered him to wear yours and he once tried a dress of yours.

You took a picture of him, making it your new background. Or it was more a picture of the thick, muscular football captain in a red dress of yours, while you wore the hoodie with his name and number on his back. The two of you stood in front of the table, your chest pressed against Buckys, while he held the phone and took the picture.

As much as you loved to go out with Bucky, you also loved the times when it was just the two of you. Bucky was a perfect cook and baker. So he either cooked for the two of you or you did it together, same went for baking.

The two of you ended up as snowmen one time, it started with you accidentally blowing the flour at Bucky. He then took way too much flour and let it fall down over your head with a huge grin across his face. Little did he know that you would grab the whole bowl and throw it at him. His reaction was to run away and into the wall by accident so he was trapped between the wall and the fridge.

It was a lot to clean, especially because Bucky hugged you and was smearing all the flour he had on his clothes on yours. You were sure you could have baked a whole cake with the amount of flour the two of you used for our little snowman action.

But the most special moment for you was two weeks before school started again. Your best friend has asked you out so often, you made trips together and spent every minute together. But when he asked you to come to Steve's birthday your mouth dropped open and you didn’t know how to respond. Of course, you would have loved to but John never wanted to have you around his friends — around his team. And Steve was one of Bucky's football team members, so there would be a lot of other people too. With a lot of assurance from Bucky you agreed and there you were now.

Bucky stood with his big hand on the small of your back next to you, looking down. The two of you were in front of Steve's house and you knew that you could still say no and Bucky would have immediately drove you back home. “I-I… Are you sure you want to be seen with me, Bucky?”

His eyes widened and he narrowed them. His hand wandered up to your shoulders to turn you toward him. His other hand settled itself on your chin and made you look directly into his intense blue eyes. “I'm more than sure that I want everyone to see us together. Babydoll, I’m not ashamed of ya, but if ya don't feel comfortable we can go home and watch movies.”

Home. You could go home. Yours, Buckys. It was more than just your apartment now, it was everything because even Bucky called it home.

“N-No, I think I can do that,” you mumbled nodding with a soft smile. You inhaled deeply, feeling Bucky's big hand take yours and interlacing your fingers with his. He then leaned down and kissed your cheek softly. You felt a shiver run down your spine, you were so in love with him but too shy to tell him — it would maybe ruin your friendship so you just enjoyed him being so close to you.

“If ya want to go home, ya gonna tell me,” Bucky said, his voice soft but leaving no room for discussion. So you nodded once again. Bucky smirked at you, knocking at the door which swung open almost immediately. The man grinning at the two of you was just as big as Bucky, his hair was way shorter and blond. His eyes were as blue as Buckys and you looked him up and down for a moment.

“Thought you won’t like to come in,” Steve said with a chuckle, letting both of you walk into his house. His eyes roamed over his friend, then over you until he noticed your interlaced fingers. Bucky squeezed your hand even more, pulling slightly  you closer to him with a raised eyebrow at Steve.

They both have a moment of silent communication. Steve knew what was going on, he knew who you were. Not because you were John's ex-girlfriend. He knew you because of Bucky, who just couldn’t stop looking at you. The two men had a lot of talks, where Bucky just needed to tell him about you, that he had to have you and that he was so fucking in love with you.

“Happy Birthday,” you said after a moment, getting both men's attention. Steve smiled at you nodding.

“Thank you. Now get inside, the others can't wait to get to know ya girl, Buck,” Steve said and walked in front of the two of you. He knew that Bucky was going to mention that you were not his girl — at least not yet — but you were his best friend. To Steve's surprise the statement never came, and Bucky just grinned down at you, his eyes shining when he led you through the hallway to the living room where the others were.

“Ya don’t mind him calling ya my girl, do ya?” Bucky asked, knowing that you didnt mind it. None of the two of you had ever said those three words yet, but he knew you felt the same for him. Bucky had seen you shivering and giggling enough whenever someone mentioned that you and Bucky were a couple. But he also noticed the soft, sad flash across your face when someone did, knowing that you were scared to fully give in to your feelings without having any voices in your mind that told you you were not worth it.

You just didn’t understand that you were everything for Bucky. You always were, you always would be. But you were sometimes stuck in your mind, thinking about all the girls who looked better than you — all the ones he could have. And then you didn’t notice that he didn’t m care about a single one of them, for Bucky it was just you. You were his one and you Would always  be his one — he would spend his lifetime to make sure you understood that there could be everyone but he only wanted you.

“I don't mind that,” you giggled, following Steve further into the living room. ‘I actually love it when people notice that I belong to you’.

Every pair of eyes was on you and Bucky when you walked into the room. Some of them were curious, some of them had an expression on their faces like ‘knew it, pal’. Through the whole evening and night Bucky introduced you to everyone with a proud smile. His hands were always somewhere on you, either around your waist or holding your hand.

His teammates were really nice, they were interested in you. And you had a lot of fun with them all, no one was mean and even the girls — mostly girlfriends of the other boys — were nice. They never looked at you with judgeful expression but they talked and laughed with you. No jealousy, no hate — just fun and a bunch of new friends.

You never would have thought it would feel amazing to be shown off by a man who owned your heart. But with Bucky it felt just perfect.

After the party you spent a few more nights with Bucky and the others, they became your friends and everyone knew that the two of you really needed to confess your love for one another. Most of the time Bucky was either hugging you from behind or you were sitting on his lap. There was no just you or just Bucky — it was always you and Bucky.

The weekend before college started again Bucky had to go to his apartment again. He called you every night, sleeping with you on the phone or he just watched you half of the night because he still couldn't keep his eyes off of you. Heeas addicted to you, you were like his air — he needed you to live.

So while he had some talks with the team and the coach and also organized all of his school stuff, you did the same. Most of the time you wrote him messages and waited for his response. Until the sunday before school, where you felt like your heart was ripped out of your chest.

John: Hey, I'm sorry I broke up with you. It was a shit decision and I couldn’t stop thinking about you all summer break. I love you.

John: I know you love me too. You know there is no one who loves you, they all just play with you. You're pretty but they only want to fuck you, come back to me and let me make it better this time.

Sobs and tears wrecked your body, you couldn’t  believe him. He hadn’t  tried to talk to you the whole summer break and suddenly he wanted you back. And maybe he was right, no one else showed any interest in you, only John. But now you had Bucky, who spent all summer break with you, he showed you what it meant to be loved even though he was ‘just’ your best friend. Bucky could have asked to have sex with you the whole time but he never did, he just wanted to cuddle, to see you happy, so maybe John was wrong and there was someone who loved you without just wanting to have sex.

Bucky wrote you a few — a lot of messages — and tried to call you but you didn’t answer him. Maybe he wanted to tell you that he had enough of you, that he was going to be happier with someone else. You didn’t want him to hear your broken voice and you didn’t want him to see your tears because of John's messages.

You didn’t love him anymore, but the voices in your mind — the ones John could control so perfectly — screamed at you, that he was right. So you just wrapped yourself into a blanket and watched all the movies Bucky loved, making your heart ache even more, especially when his scent came into your nose whenever you moved because of the hoodie you were wearing – his hoodie.

Bucky told you that he would be busy all day with the coach and the team but it didn't stop him from sending one after another message, calling you every hour until he started to speak messages on your voicemail.

Bucky: Hi, babydoll. How are you? Just checking after you before the next meeting starts, would prefer to be cuddled up with you.

Bucky: Are you okay? Do you need anything?

Bucky: I asked the coach to make it short so I can come over but he has a lot more shit for us to do, I'm sorry.

Bucky: Fuck, are you alright?

Bucky: Please, answer me. I come over!

You read the messages but never opened the chat. Tears streamed down your cheeks while you stared at your background and the incoming messages. 10 missed calls: Bucky. You just couldn’t bring yourself to answer him, to tell him what was going on and you knew you couldn't find an excuse to tell Bucky.

Around half an hour later Bucky knocked at your door, calling out your name. He called out your name. Bucky always used your pet name, the one he gave you but right now he called you by your name. His voice was broken, Bucky sounded worried but you didn’t want to move, your body felt way too heavy.

After a moment you heard the familiar sound of the key in your door. You gave Bucky your keys a while ago so he could come home whenever he wanted. He stormed into your apartment, shrugging off his shoes and jacket before he literally ran to you into the living room. His heart broke at the sight of you laying there, crying and wrapped into his hoodie and a blanket.

“Babydoll!” He said, crouching down next to you. Bucky eyes roamed over your body, trying to find something that could have hurt you but when he didn’t notice anything he narrowed his eyes. He brought one of his big hands to your cheeks, wiping away the tears and a few strands out of your face. “Look at me please, what's going on?”

You hadn’t even noticed that you closed your eyes until he asked you to look at him. You inhaled deeply, your body shaking as you slowly opened your eyes. His blue eyes pierced into yours immediately, he looked worried. You had never seen him like that, almost broken. More tears fell down your cheeks as you looked at him, noticing the love and care that's mirroring in the eyes you fell in love with.

You shook your head slightly, you didn’t want him to hear your broken voice. Bucky got up, wrapping his arms around you to lift you and sit down with you on his lap. Your head fell down against his shoulder and you inhaled his scent, feeling the warmth of him against you. Bucky wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling you as close as possible.

“You came…” you mumbled into his shoulder.

“You didn't answer,” he replied, leaning his head against yours. You felt a bit of wetness against the side of your forehead, noticing that Bucky was finally relaxing since he had you safe in his arms. You never thought he would cry because he was worried about you, but he did — maybe even relieved that you're fine.

“But the meetings. He could throw you out of the team,” you said, leaning back slightly. You looked into Bucky's face, seeing the soft smile on his face but also his red eyes. Slight trails of tears slid down his cheeks and you captured his face to wipe them away. Bucky tilted his head slightly, leaning more into your soft touch.

“It doesn't matter. Nothing matters when it comes to you, babydoll.” You inhaled deeply, leaning your forehead against his. “But I told him that my girl needs me and that I will win every fucking game this season when you're at the side in my jersey. You will watch the games, right?”

You chuckled softly, nodding. Bucky just came because he was worried, he didn't mind that he could be thrown out of the team — he came because he was worried. And you planned to go to his games anyway, but now it made your heart beat even faster. His girl. His jersey.

“Are you going to tell me what happened? You won't just ignore my messages and calls,” Bucky asked, his voice soft. His breath was warm against your lips and you closed your eyes for a moment.

“John wrote me…” you mumbled, feeling Bucky tensing. Without him asking you knew what he wanted to ask ‘What did he say? Did he hurt you?’ “He said… he said that he wants me back and that no other guy wants me anyway. Unless it's about sex, so you know…”

Bucky nodded, leaning back on the couch. He brought some distance between the two of you to look into your eyes. “Do you want to go back to him? Whatever your answer is, I…” Bucky trailed off, closing his eyes to take a shaky breath before he looked at you again. Something in his eyes switched and you squirmed slightly. “Whatever your answer is, I want you to know that you're really loved by me. And I want you for more than just sex. If you want to go back to John I will accept that, but I just— I want you to know that I love you, forever already and it will never change.”

Bucky's confession caused your jaw to drop open. You thought about a lot that he could say but hearing him confess his feelings for you wasn't one of them. It was the most obvious but you felt so insecure, so scared that it wasn't what you thought.

“I— You love me but you would let me go back to John?” You asked, you had so many thoughts but that was the first that came past your lips. Bucky nodded, a sad smile flashing over his face.

“I don't say I would like it. But I don’t want to be the barrier that stops you from being happy. When you love someone, you're willing to break yourself to see them happy,” Bucky said, another tear rolling down his face. He was scared to say those words, he was scared you would go back to John but he knew he had to accept whatever you thought was best for you. “I'm willing to give everything for you because I love you.”

You smiled softly, the urge to punch him grew about his words. You were never more happy than the weeks of summer break with Bucky. So how could he even think about breaking himself for you? “You're an idiot.”

“At least I'm your idiot,” he smiled softly, shurgging. You stared into his eyes, nodding while he brought your hand to his chest, pressing it down just above his heart. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heart against your hand and you sighed softly.

“I can’t give ya the whole world… not the one ya think at least. But I can give ya my world — our world. I can make everything shine for ya like I took every star and gave it to ya,” he mumbled, reminding you of what he said before summer break. “But I can tell ya, I'm so in love with ya. My heart, it's beating for you — only for ya. You're my world, everything for me.

You leaned closer to him, until there is barely an inch between the two of you. You smiled softly, his words and gesture making your heart beat faster and a warmth spreading inside of you. “When you're willing to break yourself for me because you think I would ever be happier with someone who isn’t you, then I have bad news. There is no one who makes me happier than you. And I'm willing to fix everything that broke when the thought that someone could be better than you crossed your mind.”

“Can I kiss you now, or do you want to tell me you love me in another way than you just did?” He asked, chuckling softly. You didn’t say those three words but you didn’t  have to. You told him that you loved him with so many more words but in the most perfect way he could have ever imagined.

You leaned even closer, allowing him to finally press his soft, plump lips against yours. You could taste both of your tears while he deepened the kiss softly. Bucky pulled you even closer, your hands wrapped around his neck and you played with his bun, making him growl playfully into the kiss.

After a moment you pulled away, panting softly. Both of you had heated cheeks and you leaned your forehead against Bucky's shoulder to hide your growing smirk. “I know that ya smiling,” Bucky said, his accent back and you melted into his embrace, giggling softly. Neither of you had to say anything about the kiss — it was indescribably perfect. “How long have you been in love with me already?” you asked, turning your head, still resting it against his shoulder. Bucky drew small circles on your back, a low chuckle escaped his lips.

“Forever…” he said. “I'm not sure, but it's like forever. And then before summer break, my heart broke when I saw you there so sad. I could have told you I love you, fucked you and could have helped you to get over John but I wanted to show you what love means before i confess my feelings. I could have told you at the beginning of summer break but I wanted you to know how it feels to be loved and cared for, how to treat the girl you love right. I wanted you to be just as much in love with me as I am with you.”

“Then congratulations, you made me fall in love harder than I thought I could ever fall in love. And I don't love John anymore, long ago I did but I don't, I just…” you trailed off, letting your fingers wander over Bucky's neck, admiring the goosebumps. “His words, they just hurt.”

Bucky grinned, having already a perfect idea for the next day. “Babydoll, i don't want you to feel that i just use you to make you jealous, because I really fucking love you, but…”

“I love you too, but what?” You giggled, wrapping your arms tighter around Bucky's neck. You kissed your way along his jaw, pulling him in another kiss before you listened to his plan.

— —

The next day — the first day of school you were walking next to Bucky from his car toward the building. He held your hand tightly and you felt a lot of people staring at you, maybe it was because of the man next to you, but maybe it could have also been because of…

“Y/N!” John shouted behind you and when you turned around his face was pale. He thought you were wearing the hoodie with Bucky's number and name on your back to make him jealous but when he saw the thick man next to you, holding your hand, his eyes narrowed. “Why are you wearing his name, why are you holding his hand?”

You didn't plan to have that conversation in front of everyone but you didn't mind it either. Bucky gave you a strength you never thought you had. With a soft smile and a look at Bucky you inhaled deeply before looking at John, smile fading away.

“I wear his name on my back because it belongs there. I hold his hand because he’s my boyfriend. And instead of being ashamed and hiding our relationship like you did, he likes to let everyone know that I belong to him. Bucky doesn't mind, that everyone sees us together.”

“I actually do love to let everyone know that this pretty girl is mine. She is mine and she will be forever. And ya, Walker, can fuck off. Ya didn't know how to treat her right but don't worry, I love her enough to make ya shit up to her,” Bucky growled before he grasped your chin.

It wasn’t part of the plan, you knew what he was going to do but you didn't care about the plan to just wear Bucky's hoodie to show John that you were with Bucky now. Bucky turned your head toward him, pressing his lips to yours and you sighed softly, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him even closer.

The people around you clapped and screamed about this news. Who watched Bucky knew that he had the biggest crush on you. Even Bucky's whole football team jumped and shouted like they just won a game. You heard John muttering ‘but he is my rival, and so are you now’ but you couldn't have cared less.

Bucky smirked against your lips. “Mine, all mine, babydoll. You belong to me, just like I belong to you, I know.” He chuckled and pulled you into another kiss, letting you know that everything he said was true. He loved you with his whole heart, his soul.

You could feel his heart against your chest, feeling it beating the same rhythm yours was beating. His words from the day before where he confessed his love echoed through your mind. And suddenly everything made sense, everything lit up — no fear, no doubt. Bucky loved you — he really loved you. This was different, it was more than you ever had with John, more than you ever felt for the other one. Buckys and your heart beated in the same rhythm, they were connected — you were connected. He had used his whole summer break to prove that he loved you, to let you see how much worth you had, how much you meant to him. And finally, he was able to let his girl know, to show you his real feelings. This man — your man, your Bucky — he belonged to you, just like you belonged to him. You would take care of one another, love one another like nobody else ever did. He showed you the whole summer break that you were his one and now the two of you had the rest of your lives to be just happy with one another. Your journey, your life together had just started — in the most perfect way ever.

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[pickingupmymercedes]

Very first - Lewis Hamilton NSFW

Request: First time with Lewis. I had 5 requests for that and I hope I did it justice (sorry for how long it took for a couple of those requests)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities, all sorts.

Wrap it before you tap it.

wordcount: +5K

a/n: Haven't written in first person in so long, but all the drafts felt better like this. Also, it's huge, ops. Hope you guys like it.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

It was easy with him, too easy maybe, but that's what made it so damn nice.

“So,” I started, turning to him with a half-smile. “You want to come up?”

We’d spent the morning driving through the countryside, talking about everything and nothing—his races, my job, the ridiculousness of the price of avocados.

His eyes met mine, and I could see the question there, like he was trying to read me. “You sure?”

It was cute that he was being cautious, but come on, we both knew why I was asking. I nodded, keeping my voice light. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the countryside air or just the fact that we had spent the day away from the madness of London, but today felt different.

Calmer, somehow.

I led him up the stairs to my apartment, trying not to think too much about how it had been a while since I’d let anyone in here.

Literally and figuratively.

“Welcome to my humble abode” I said, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

He hesitated in the doorway, taking it all in.

My place was small, but it was mine—books, plants, a blanket that I was probably too attached to. It wasn’t flashy like the places he was used to, but I liked that about it.

“Nice place,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“It does the job” I replied with a shrug, kicking off my shoes. “Make yourself at home.”

He followed suit, slipping off his sneakers and setting them neatly by the door. “It suits you. Feels… grounded.”

I let out a soft laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

He leaned against the counter as we headed into the kitchen to grab some water.

But when handed him the glass, and our fingers brushed, it was fireworks all over again. God, how was I still reacting like a teenager with a crush?

“Thanks,” he said, taking a sip. “So, today was fun.”

“It was,” I agreed, taking a drink to give myself something to do with my hands. “It’s nice to get out of the city for a bit. The countryside’s got this whole other vibe.”

“Yup” he said, setting his glass down. “Nice to just… let it go.”

“Even from the racing?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Especially from the racing,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

There was a beat of silence, and I could feel the shift in the air between us, that tension that had been simmering since our last date starting to bubble up again.

The last time… well, things had gotten pretty heated until his phone rang, snapping us both out of it.

It was a close call, but I’d pulled back, sticking to my rule. No rushing into things. I’d done that before, and it never ended well.

But this time, he was making it very hard for me to stick by that rule.

I wanted him, and from the way he was looking at me, I’d take a pretty good guess he wanted me too.

I took a step closer, letting my hand find his. That simple touch was all it took for the tension to skyrocket, and before I knew it, we were closing the distance between us, lips crashing together in a kiss that was anything but tentative.

His hands were on my waist, pulling me closer as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

God, the man could kiss.

It was the kind of kiss that made you forget where you were, who you were, and why you ever thought not doing this was a good idea. His lips were soft, but the way he kissed me was anything but.

There was urgency there, a hunger that only fueled into my own, and I could feel it in every brush of his lips, every tug of his fingers on my shirt.

I pressed myself against him, deepening the kiss as I let my hands roam up his back, memorizing the feel of him.

The muscles there were as solid as they looked, and I couldn’t help but think that this man was literally built for this kind of thing.

I mean, I had the image of what he looked like shirtless—hell, half the world did—but feeling it under my fingers was a whole different story.

He let out a low groan against my lips, and I was losing myself in the kiss, in him, and for a second, I almost didn’t care about anything else. Almost.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine as we both caught our breath. “Y/n…”

The way he said my name, low and rough, made me want to pull him back in and never let go.

But there was something in his voice that made me pause.

“Yeah?” I whispered, my hands still resting on his shoulders, my eyes closed shut.

“I just… I don’t want to rush you” he said, his voice soft but serious. “I know last time… I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, my heart doing that stupid fluttering thing again.

Damn, he was really being careful, wasn’t he? But I appreciated it. More than I’d probably let on.

“Lewis” I started, taking a breath. “I want this. I want you. And I’m not saying that lightly.”

He studied me for a moment, like he was searching for any sign of hesitation. But there wasn’t any. Not this time.

“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper.

I nodded, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw tentatively. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

That was all it took.

He kissed me again, and this time, there was no holding back.

And damn, if it wasn’t about time.

We barely made it through the hallway before his lips found mine again, pressing me against the wall with just the right amount of pressure.

God, he was good at this. I could feel the heat between us, the urgency in his touch making it clear where this was heading.

“Bedroom?” I mumbled against his lips, not really wanting to break the kiss but knowing we couldn’t just do this against the wall like teenagers.

Although, thinking it back the idea didn’t sound so bad.

As soon as we stepped inside his eyes landed on the teddy bear sitting in the middle of my bed. Of course.

“What’s this?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pointed to the bear.

I rolled my eyes, trying not to let him see how much I loved that he was trying to lighten the mood.

“That’s Mr. Bear, and he’s not going anywhere, so you’ll just have to deal.”

“Mr. Bear?” He picked it up, inspecting it like it was some kind of artifact. “Well, I guess I’ll have to make sure he approves.”

“He’s a tough cookie” I quipped, crossing my arms and giving him a look. “But you might want to focus on impressing me instead.”

“Oh, I plan on it,” he murmured, setting the bear down gently on the bedside table before turning back to me, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something much more intense.

He stepped closer, his hands finding the hem of my shirt. “Can I…?”

I sighed, half-annoyed, half-amused. “Lewis, if you ask me for permission one more time…”

He grinned, but there was something softer behind it. “Just making sure, love”

“I know,” I cut him off, my voice softer too. “But trust me, I want this. I want you.”

He held my gaze for a moment longer, then nodded, slipping his hands under my shirt and lifting it over my head.

His fingers grazed my skin, causing goosebumps down my skin as he took his time, clearly trying to be as gentle as possible, maybe even allowing for the time for me to back off.

It was sweet, really, but I was starting to get impatient.

“Lewis,” I said, a warning in my voice.

He chuckled, his hands moving to the waistband of my jeans. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop asking.”

“Good” I muttered, stepping out of my jeans as he slid them down my legs.

When I was finally standing in just my lingerie, his eyes roamed over me, and I could see the want—was it also awe? —in his eyes.

“I don’t think it’s fair,” I said, my voice teasing as I reached for the hem of his shirt.

“What’s not fair?” he asked, his eyes meeting mine with a tense stare.

“That you’re fully dressed” I replied, tugging at his shirt. “Especially when half the world uses your abs as gym inspiration.”

He laughed then; a deep, genuine sound that made my heart skip a beat. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

He raised his arms, letting me pull the shirt over his head. And yeah, the man was every bit as ripped as I had imagined.

I already knew what was under there, but damn, it was something else to see it up close like this.

And the tattoos. Those damn tattoos.

I ran my hands over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, and he watched me with that same intense gaze, like he was studying every move I made.

It was intoxicating, the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered at that second.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low as he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear.

“Much” I whispered, my fingers trailing down to his abs, feeling them tense under my touch.

His breath hitched slightly, and I couldn’t help but smile.

It was nice to know that I wasn’t the only one feeling a little overwhelmed by this. He might be Lewis Hamilton, but right now, he was just a guy standing in front of me, and I was the one making him nervous.

He softly guided my chin up and smiled, that stupidly soft and loving smile, before leaning into my lips, my hands exploring his back, his shoulders, anywhere I could reach.

He took his time though, his hands sliding up my sides to my back, and only then pausing at the clasp of my bra.

With his lips still hovering over mine he breathed into me. “Can I…?”

I rolled my eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “Yes, Lewis. You can.”

And with that – and with his lips back on mine – he undid the clasp, letting the bra fall away as his hands moved over my now bare skin

Finally. And damn, if I wasn’t loving every second of it.

His lips started to trail from my collarbone down to the swell of my breasts, taking detours to worship every inch of skin he found on the way.

By the time his mouth reached my belly, I was practically trembling with anticipation.

When his fingers brushed the lace of my underwear, I couldn’t help the hiss that escaped my lips.

He paused, looking up at me with those deep, dark eyes that seemed to see right through me. Without a word, he moved back up to capture my mouth with his, as if soothing the impatience brewing inside me.

And I was impatient. The slow, deliberate pace was driving me insane, and he knew it.

I kissed him back hard, my hands roaming down his sides until they found the waistband of his boxers.

I was more than ready to speed things up, and as I slipped my hand under the fabric, I was pleasantly surprised to find him already half-hard.

“Guess the rumors weren’t exaggerating,” I murmured against his lips, my fingers brushing over his length.

He responded with a low growl, one hand angling my head as he kissed me again, harder this time, effectively shutting me up.

But he never stopped me from continuing my exploration. I traced the outline of his dick through the fabric, feeling the heat of him, the way he twitched under my touch.

Knowing I could get this kind of reaction from him was a high I probably wouldn’t get over for a minute.

When he finally broke the kiss, I met his gaze, silently asking for permission to go further. “It’s all yours, babe.” He chuckled, a sound that made me want to attack him and hide all at once.

I hooked my fingers under the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down.

The moment his dick sprang free, I couldn’t help the way my breath caught in my throat.

He wasn’t impossibly long, but he was definitely above average, and the girth—God, the girth—was enough to make my pulse quicken.

He was watching me, of course, catching every flicker of reaction on my face.

When he noticed my wide-eyed surprise, he lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him. His smile was warm, reassuring even “We’ll take it slow.”

I nodded, grateful for his patience even as it frustrated me. I returned his smile, my fingers wrapping around his length. His breath hitched the moment I touched him, and I couldn’t help but bat my eyes at him playfully.

“Gosh, you’re trouble” he muttered, his voice rough with desire.

I grinned, taking my time as I began to pump him, feeling the weight and heat of him in my hand.

When I reached the tip, I leaned down to press a kiss there, delighting in the way he shivered at the contact.

“Sensitive here, huh?” I teased, looking up at him.

Whatever retort he had in mind was lost when he dragged me back up to his lips, his hands firm on my hips as he effortlessly maneuvered me onto the bed, pressing my back against the headboard.

His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto mine. “I’m good, love. But we need to make sure you’re ready” he murmured, his statement a promise to my ears.

Before I could respond, his mouth was on me again, trailing kisses down my body with single-minded focus.

When he reached my inner thighs, he took his time kissing through the fabric of my lace underwear, and I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped my lips.

“Don’t tease,” I breathed, hating how desperate I sounded.

He giggled—that soft, infectious sound that I’d grown to love. “Just making sure” he whispered, his fingers hooking around the strings on my hips, slowly pulling the lace down and off.

As he finally took in the sight of my exposed cunt, his expression shifted into something almost reverent, like he was savoring the moment. He leaned down, leaving featherlight kisses on my outer lips, the gentle touch driving me wild.

“Lewis” I groaned, the frustration in my voice clear. “Please.”

He smiled against my skin, his breath hot against my thigh. “Patience, love. I’m just getting started.”

The first tentative lick sent a shockwave through my body, and my hands immediately grabbed at the sheets, fingers curling tight.

Every nerve on me was on fire, heightened by the slow, deliberate pace he was setting.

And just when I thought I might float away, he hooked an arm around my hips, anchoring me in place. His other hand found mine, fingers intertwining, as if he needed to connect with me anymore.

His eyes never left mine, and even if I wanted, I couldn’t really stop watching as his tongue lapped up my clit. A gasp escaping my lips as the pleasure spiked through me.

“Fuck,” I muttered, barely coherent.

He continued, his tongue moving with just the right pace, not rushing, just giving me enough to keep me teetering on the edge.

When he felt I was wet enough, he let go of my hand, moving it down to tease at my entrance with a single digit.

“I’ll need words from here, love” he murmured, his voice muffled. “Tell me what you like.”

“Don’t stop,” I managed to say, my voice shaky, almost pleading. “Just—don’t stop.”

With a grin, he slid a single finger inside me, his own hiss vibrating through the room as he felt my walls.

“You’re so tight,” he breathed, a note of awe in his voice. “This is gonna be heaven.”

He took his time, exploring with just that one finger, feeling around until he found the spot that had me squirming under him. When he hit it, I couldn’t help the moan that tore from my throat, my hips bucking involuntarily.

“Found it” he said with a satisfied smile, his eyes locking onto mine.

Then he added a second finger, the light stretch already making me gasp.

He started a scissoring motion, opening me up, getting me ready. All the while, his tongue didn’t let up, lapping at my clit in perfect rhythm, just enough to keep me on edge without pushing me over.

The wet sounds filled the room, mingling with my ragged breathing and his low murmurs of praise.

He was studying me, like he was learning exactly how to make me fall apart under him.

After what felt like an eternity of this sweet torment, he finally pulled back, sitting on his heels.

I watched as he switched to his middle and ring fingers, angling them just right before sliding back into me.

The feeling was delicious, and when he curled his fingers and found that spot again, I cried out, my hips lifting off the bed.

“Easy” he murmured, his free arm holding me in place as he started a relentless up-and-down motion.

His thumb brushed over my clit, making my breath caught in my throat and my head spin.

I was completely at his mercy, the pleasure building and building until I could hardly breathe.

The wet noises from where his fingers worked inside me were obscene, mingling with the desperate little sounds I couldn’t hold back.

He kept on the soft praises, but they were swallowed by my moans as I got closer and closer to the edge.

And then it hit.

My vision went white, and all I could do was hold onto his arm on his hips, feeling the waves of pleasure crash over me again and again. My whole body tensing before it felt like it had shattered into a million pieces.

He didn’t stop until he was sure I’d ridden out every last bit of it, his fingers slowing their movements but never letting up until I was trembling beneath him.

Only then did he pull his fingers out.

When I finally came back to myself, I found him watching me with a look that was equal parts smug and adoring.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my lips as if sealing the moment. “You okay?” he whispered, his voice gentle now.

I could only nod, too blissed out to form a coherent thought, let alone words.

And then he had the nerve to ask if I had one more in me, and again all I could do was nod.

But apparently, that wasn’t good enough for him. “I need words,” he insisted, and barely managed to get out “Fucking hell, you’re not leaving me without the rest.”

He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and I wanted to roll my eyes, but I couldn’t deny how endearing it was.

How many green flags could one guy have? Annoyingly checking every damn box.

When he went to his wallet, I knew what was coming next.

He handed me the condom packet, giving me that same patient, earnest look, like he was asking if I could handle one more thing.

I reached for him, giving him a few more pumps just to feel him twitch in my hand. Sliding the condom on, I could feel the heat building again, a rush of anticipation making my heart race.

He adjusted our position like he was handling something precious—placing a pillow just under my back, so deliberate and thoughtful.

But when he rested his dick on my inner thigh, all those coherent thoughts I had left my brain like it was suddenly a foreign language, and I remembered the girth.

Holy shit. How was I supposed to handle that?

The weight of him, the sheer size, and the fact that I was supposed to take it in?

Was this man sculpted by the gods or what?

And why did I have to get stuck on how considerate he was instead of focusing on the absolute insanity about to happen?

Before I could spiral any further, he came up to me, his lips brushing mine, dragging me back into the present. “We’ll take all the time you need, okay?” his voice like honey, smooth and sweet.

And there I was, rolling my eyes again, even as the warmth spread through me.

I wanted to snap back, something sassy on the tip of my tongue, but then his tip entered me, and all I could do was hiss at the sensation.

He kissed me through the first thrust, his dick practically ripping through my walls, and my hands automatically went to his back, nails digging into his skin, holding on for dear life.

I tried to breathe, tried to adjust to the stretch, but when he finally stopped, I realized he wasn’t even fully in yet.

My eyes shot down, and sure enough, he was still focused, his breathing controlled, and all I heard was a low murmur, “Geez, you really are tight.”

I felt his arms on either side of me, solid and reassuring, and I squeezed them gently. His eyes instantly found mine, filled with concern, and I had to smile softly. “Move, Lewis. Just please, move.”

And then he did, thrusting into me with an agonizing slowness, deeper with each motion, until finally, I felt his balls press against my ass, and he sighed like he’d found what he was looking for.

My mind, however, was a different story.

Holy shit, how was I still breathing? I was split open in the best way possible, and all I could think was how the hell was this man real.

I was sure each thrust was going to create its own memory, and I was teetering between wanting to scream at the top of my lungs and begging him to go even harder.

But there was something about how he moved—deliberate, careful, like he was savoring every second, every reaction I gave him.

The way he looked at me, like I was the only thing that mattered in the world, was enough to push me over the edge again. And I could tell he was holding back, trying to keep control, trying to make sure I was okay, even as his own need was practically vibrating through his body.

God, I’m so screwed, and not just in the physical sense.

I was falling, fast and hard, and there was no stopping it now.

Not when he felt this good, not when he was this good to me.

Every thrust made me crave more, made me cling to him tighter, made me want to lose myself in him completely.

Lewis’s focus was entirely on me, and it was like he was memorizing every gasp, every twitch, every reaction.

It was overwhelming, in the best possible way, but still I needed more.

I wanted to be the one in control, to feel him from a different angle, to see what this man—this ridiculous, considerate, and sexy man—would do when I took the reins.

Leaning into his ear, I whispered, “I want to ride you.”

The words were barely out of my mouth before I felt him tense beneath me, half-worried, half-hopeful.

It was adorable, really, how he tried to mask his excitement with concern.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, and there was that hint of amusement in his voice, but I could also hear the edge of desperation.

Did he really want this as much as I did, maybe even more?

“We’ll take it slow, right?” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest.

I sat up, pulling away just enough to guide him to sit on the bed, and as I moved into his lap, I could feel his heart on his chest.

Slowly, I lowered myself onto his dick, feeling every inch stretch me again, filling me completely.

My lips parted in an involuntary gasp, my eyes squeezing shut as I adjusted to the sensation.

His hands found my waist, gripping tightly as if grounding himself, and when I finally opened my eyes, he was staring at me with that same soft smile that always managed to break through my sarcasm.

I couldn’t help but smile back, pulling him into a kiss, the kind that had me wrapping me around him.

I started moving, rocking back and forth, feeling the friction build and spiral.

The kiss broke when he moaned against my lips, a sound that only spurred me on, making my moves harder, seeking more.

His hands guided me, helping me rise and fall on him, and every time his tip brushed against my cervix, I saw starts. It was so intense it almost bordered on pain.

I let out a cry, my body trembling at the sensation, and he immediately stilled, concern flashing in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and it was almost ridiculous how serious he was, but also incredibly sweet.

I looked down at him, half breathless, half in awe of how he managed to be so considerate, even in the heat of the moment. “Going to be even better when you drag that other orgasm out of me, like you promised.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He started to thrust up and I matched him, riding him faster, until I could feel that familiar tension coil tightly in my belly.

I wasn’t going to last much longer, and by the way he was groaning beneath me, neither was he.

A few more thrusts, and I stilled, holding him down by his abdomen, feeling the shift in him as he realized what was happening.

He searched my face, and then his expression shifted as he felt my walls clenching around him, my legs shaking as I came undone.

I couldn’t keep myself upright, collapsing into his chest as wave after wave washed over me.

Lewis took that moment to start thrusting again, riding out my orgasm, and I was vaguely aware of the way he was holding me, like he didn’t want to let go.

I could feel his rhythm faltering, and it wasn’t long before he let out a deep grunt, his fingers digging into my waist as he held me in place and his moans were all I heard.

We were both breathing hard, tangled together, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

It was just us, in this moment, and I couldn’t help the ridiculous surge of affection for him.

Who knew I’d end up here, wrapped up in the arms of a guy like Lewis? But here I was, completely wrecked and somehow, already craving more.

As I eased off his lap, I heard a low moan escape his lips, and I giggled as I looked down at him, sprawled out on the bed with a stupid grin plastered across his face.

"Enjoying yourself, are we?" I teased, reaching down to carefully remove the condom, trying to catch the mess inside. He didn't even respond, just lay there looking like the cat who got the cream.

I slipped off to the bathroom, tossing the condom in the toilet before taking a moment to pee—because there was no way I was dealing with a UTI when I had Lewis to myself like that.

And just that thought was ridiculous on its own.

When I came back into the bedroom, Lewis immediately pulled me into his arms, almost like he was afraid I’d vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

He was sweet in the aftercare, his voice soft as he asked, “How was it? How do you feel?”

I could hear the concern laced in his tone, but that grin was still there, tugging at the corners of his lips.

It was impossible not to smile back, even as I decided to mess with him a little. My fingers wandered lower, tracing the lines of his lower waist, and I looked up at him with a teasing glint in my eyes.

“You know” I started, trying to keep a straight face, “I always thought you were a shower… I’m glad to see you’re also a grower.”

Lewis giggled, his chest vibrating under my chin as he shook his head in mock disbelief. “Really?”

“Yeah” I grinned, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I mean, it’s only fair to acknowledge all of your… talents.”

He shook his head again, but I could see the satisfaction in his eyes. “And here I thought I had you speechless.”

“You did” I assured him, my fingers dancing across his skin again. “But I can’t stay quiet for long.”

He chuckled, pulling me closer, his hand running up and down my back in soothing strokes. “I’m glad. It’s part of your charm.”

I rolled my eyes at that, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through me at his words. “Yeah, well, you’re not so bad yourself.”

His grin softened into something more tender as he looked down at me. “You make it easy to be sweet.”

I pretended to look annoyed, but the smile on my face gave me away. “Okay, that was disgustingly cute. But fine, I’ll allow it.”

“Oh, you’ll allow it?” he teased, his hand coming up to gently brush my cheek “What if I want to be disgustingly cute more often?”

I hummed thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. “I guess I could get used to it… as long as you keep up the other stuff too.”

He giggled again, that carefree sound that I was quickly falling for. “Deal. But just so you know, I’m planning on sticking for a bit.”

I smirked, resting my hand on his chest. “I think I can manage that.”

______________________________________________________________

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[menagerofmischief]

I rarely indulge in these kinds of things but I love your diner and I have to place my own order!!

Served by Lando Norris

Starter - artichoke dip (thinking Fewtrell reader cause Lando had been WANTING reader)

cold appetizer

Main dish:

Sausage rolls

Sushi

Ceasar Salad

Veggie Burger

Drinks:

Fanta

Apple cider

Vodka soda

Dessert - yes

Fav GP is Singapore or Vegas was fun last year! (Im a whore for a good night race)

Dia's Diner Menu

artichoke dip brother's friend cold appetizer rough sex sausage rolls "I'll make it fit" veggie burger "Feel how hard you make me" sushi "Better quiet down you don't want them to hear us" ceaser salad "Lie to me again and you're not gonna like what happens next" fanta size kink apple cider spitting vodka redbull squirting dessert aftercare + moussaka "You look your best covered in my cum"

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!reader

TW: unprotected sex, fingering, squirting, spitting in mouth

WC: 2.3k

A/N: I kid you not, I screamed when I got this request. I was so happy to write something for you, hope you enjoy it!

❀

“You’re like a fucking dog, Norris!” I say, bringing my hands up to shield by face as Lando shakes his head, droplets of water from his wet hair spraying onto me.

Lando has been best friends with my brother, Max, for practically as long as I can remember. He was always there and he was everywhere. From family dinner to family vacations, you name it, he’s attended it with my brother.

He’s been around for every awkward phase of my life and every especially embarrassing moment. I wasn’t blind, I’ve always thought he was attractive and it would be a lie to say I’ve never had feelings for him. 

But I never dared to say anything. He was Max’s best friend which meant he was off limits or my brother would throw a hissy fit. And I’m sure he had received a speech about how I was off limits from my brother as well.

Not that it ever stopped him from letting his gaze wander over my body, studying every curve and looking way longer than he should have. Or giving me one of his infamous smirks whenever I caught him doing it.

We were currently on a summer vacation with Max and his girlfriend Pietra. It was summer break for Formula 1, so Max insisted on taking a trip with Lando and dragging me along. Summer trips meant warm places with beaches and beaches with Lando meant getting sprayed with water while I was laying on the sunbeds.

Lando laughed, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “Should I bark then as well?” He asked, his lips stretching into a smirk. 

“You try that and I’ll call animal control to pick you up.” I said, rolling my eyes at him. I moved my eyes back to the book I had laying open in my lap, trying my best to focus on the words on the page instead of him.

He was still wet from the water and I couldn’t decide which part of him I wanted to look at more. His chest, with drops of water sliding down and catching along his happy trail. Or his thighs, the way his wet swim trunks hugged his muscular thighs, making them look extra delicious.

Not only that but the outline of his dick was very clear and practically begging me to look at it.

“You like what you see?” Lando asked, the tone of his voice teasing. Slowly I dragged my gaze back up to meet his, feeling my cheeks heat up a little from the embarrassment.

“The only thing bigger than your ego is the iceberg that sank the Titanic.” I told him, quickly returning my attention back to my book. Lando only laughed in response.

✿ ✿ ✿

Later that night, back in the hotel, I was laying in my bed bored out of my mind. I scrolled Instagram enough for a warning to pop up that I spent too much time on the app and then scrolled TikTok until the videos became repetitive.

At first I thought I’d go to Max’s room and annoy him but then decided against it in favor of giving him and his girlfriend some alone time. After another five minutes of fatal boredom I dragged myself out of the bed and set my way towards Lando’s room.

The door swung open after only one knock, leaving my hand still in the air as I faced Lando. He was shirtless, with a pair of shorts low enough on his waist to show just a hint of the waistband of his boxers. His hair was damp and his room just a bit steamed up - he must have showered recently.

“Expecting someone?” I asked, giving him a smirk.

“Yes,” he said, a smile stretching over his lips. “I was expecting you.”

He moved to the side to let me get into his room and closed the door behind me. I hummed, “I’m sure you were.”

“I was actually,” he said, throwing himself onto his bed. He put his hands behind his head, stretching himself and the muscles in his arms flexed.

Lando may not be the tallest guy, but he was taller than me, that’s for sure. And his build, along with all the muscles that his extensive training had formed on his body made him look even more deliciously bigger.

I was staring, my gaze fixated on his movements. This time I didn’t even have the courtesy to look ashamed of doing it.

Lando moved so quickly I barely saw it coming. One of his hands grabbed mine and pulled me onto the bed, making me land right on top of him. I gasped, bracing my hands against the mattress and looking at him with wide eyes.

In this position he was so close, closer than he’s ever been. I stared at him, my mouth slightly open as I breathed, my breath mingling with his. “Lando,” I whispered, not daring to speak at full volume, afraid the moment was just going to disappear.

His gaze went down, his eyes fixated on my lips. I didn’t allow myself any time to overthink, knowing I would end up chickening out - so I leaned down and tentatively brushed my lips against his.

Lando groaned at the contact, his hand grabbing the back on my neck and forcing me towards him even more, crashing my lips against his in a bruising kiss. His tongue stroked mine and I couldn’t help but moan into his mouth, unaware of the fact that I was grinding against him.

We finally broke apart, both of us gasping for air. My cheeks felt like they were burning and there was a hint of redness on Lando’s as well.

“Fuck,” I whispered, the curse rolling off my tongue. “We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s wrong -”

Lando cut me off by thrusting his hips upwards, his bulge rubbing against my clothed core. “Feel that?” Lando asked, his breath hot against my face. “Feel how hard you make me? Feel how good it is to have me rubbing against you?” I nodded breathlessly, unable to form words. “Something that feels this right, definitely can’t be wrong.”

And he’s right. It feels good, it feels right. I like him and for once I stop thinking about what everyone else wants and what they’ll think and focus on myself.

I find myself nodding along, leaning down to kiss him again. It’s desperate, passionate, full with need and longing that it seems both of us have been trying to suppress. 

“Let me take this off, yeah?” Lando asks, pulling away and reaching for the hem of my top. Wordlessly I lift my hands up, making it easier for him to slide it over my head.

I’m not wearing a bra, so the second my top is off my tits are bare for him to see. My nipples harden and I hiss when Lando palms my breasts and teasingly runs his thumb over my nipple before pinching it.

“Prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,” he mumbles, not wasting a second longer before he’s diving down, his lips wrapping around my nipple and rolling the bug with his tongue. A moan slips past my lips and I wrap my fingers around his locks, keeping his head in place.

“Lando, please,” I whine, my voice breathy and desperate. “Want you to fuck me.”

He doesn’ need to hear more than that, suddenly he’s flipping us over, towering over me. He presses a quick kiss to my lips before going down and taking my shorts and panties off with one go.

He blows air on my pussy, making me whine and playfully slap his arm. “Stop teasing, it’s mean.”

He chuckles, his fingers slipping through my arousal and circling my entrance. “Tell me baby,” he whispers against my skin, his lips pressed to my collarbones. “How many times did you touch yourself just like this, imagining it was me instead.”

I shake my head, not wanting to admit the truth. “Didn’t,” I manage to murmur out.

He huffs, and then his fingers pinch my clit, making me buck my hips and moan at the mix of pain and pleasure. “Lie to me again, and you’re not gonna like what happens next.” His voice leaves no room for argument and I know he really means it. “Now, I think I asked you a question.”

“Too many!” I admit, a moan slipping out when his fingers begin to rub my clit in fast, harsh circles. “I don’t know! Don’t keep track of how much I do it.”

“There we go,” Lando hums, the expression on his face looking satisfied. “See how good you can behave.”

He slips two fingers in me, sliding right in with no resistance, thanks to how wet I am. Through the whole process he keeps rubbing my clit, and suddenly the pleasure doubles when he starts to thrust his fingers into me, grazing my G-spot every time.

“Lando, so good,” I moan out. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth I wish I didn’t say them because the pleasure that was building up is instantly gone as Lando pulls his fingers out and away from my clit. I’m left gasping, looking at him with a glare.

“Fuck sweetheart don’t look at me like that,” he says, his voice is hoarse. “I’ve thought about this so many times. The first time I make you cum I want it to be around my cock.”

He lifts his hand, his fingers covered in my arousal, and pops them into his mouth, sucking them clean and groaning at the taste. “Taste so good, sweetheart, come on open up.”

Instinctively I open my mouth, thinking he’s going to push his fingers into my mouth for me to taste myself. Instead he leans over me and spits into my mouth, and though barely, I can taste myself.

I moan when it hits my tongue, and lock my eyes with his before swallowing. He groans, his fingers grabbing my chin, “God, you’re such a good girl. Perfect little slut - and just for me.”

“Just for you,” I repeat, nodding my head. “Now please fuck me, Lando, it’s too much!”

Lando takes off his shorts and boxers, leaving himself bare in front of me. My eyes are instantly drawn to his cock, standing proud, the tip leaking pre-cum. My eyes widen at the size of it, he’s bigger than anyone I’ve been with before.

He must see it on my face because he cups my cheek with one hand while nestling himself between my thighs. “Don’t worry, sweet girl, I’ll make it fit.”

He pushes in slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size, pushing inch after inch inside of me until his hips are flush against mine. He looks at me for confirmation and I give him a nod to go ahead.

While he was really sweet by starting gentle and going slow until I was ready - now that he’s fucking me, he’s anything but. Lando’s thrusts are rough, pulling almost all the way out and then pushing back, deep inside, his hips hitting mine over and over again.

“Lando, so good, fuck!” I moan out. My voice is high pitches and my moans are becoming louder as I am unable to control them, or think anything much in general.

Lando’s hand presses down against my mouth, instantly muffling the sound of my moans. “Better quiet down,” he growls into my ear. “Max and Pietra are in the room next door. You don’t want them to hear us do you?”

I shake my head no and Lando removes his hand. Without his hand covering my mouth it’s much harder to keep the moans and whines coming out of my lips down. 

“Lan, I’m gonna cum, please!” I plead, feeling the pleasure build up, unlike anything I’ve experienced before.

“Go on,” Lando says with a groan and I feel him twitch inside of me. “Cum for me baby. Cum all over my dick.”

His words topple me over the edge and I come harder than I’ve ever cum before. It’s not until I look down and see Lando’s abdomen and half of the bed wet that I realize I squirted. Lando groans, his fingers rubbing through my fold for a moment before he brings them up to his mouth and sucks them clean.

“That was so hot baby,” he says. He thrusts into me a few more times and then pulls out, cumming all over my stomach and tits.

He looks down at me, trying to catch his breath and his eyes sparkle with a hint of something. “You always look so damn gorgeous,” he says, his fingers rubbing gentle comforting circles into my hip. “But you look your best covered in my cum.”

I stared at the ceiling, still a bit out of breath. “That was the best orgasm of my life,” I said, with a laugh.

“Guess I’ll have to give you many more then,” Lando said.

“I don’t how you’ll survive,” I teased.

“I’ll make do,” Lando replied, leaning down to kiss me sweetly. He reached for his suitcase that was next to the bed and got a what I assumed was a dirty shirt and used it to wipe his cum off my body.

After that he got another T-Shirt, this time a clean one and helped me put it on. He put his underwear back on and then crawled into the bed, next to me. He wrapped one of his arms around my stomach and placed lazy kisses on my cheek and neck.

“Want to watch a movie and order room service?” He asked, rubbing his nose against my neck.

“God, you’re perfect.”

“Thanks, I know!”

“Just play the damn movie, Lando.”

[sunkissedscribbles]

Mattheo Riddle's Guide To Win Y/N's Heart

pairing: mattheo x fem!reader (house not clarified)

genre: fluff

tw: my bad writing

word count: 1532

summary: mattheo's desperately trying to lure you in by using psychological tricks on you.

a/n: okay, this one might not be the best, but it's sweet. also, i wrote this in the middle of the night lol

masterlist

dividers by @chachachannah

It all started a week ago when Mattheo strutted into the Great Hall in the morning with that stupid, confident grin plastered across his lips.

“It’s 7:30. In the morning,” Theo raised an eyebrow at him as to why he was in a good mood so early for his liking.

“I have the master plan to get Y/N to date me,” Mattheo stated proudly, to which Enzo and Theo shared a look, and the latter snorted a laugh.

“And how are you gonna do that, Casanova?” Pansy chimed in too.

“Psychology,” Mattheo shrugged simply, deeply believing that his master plan would work perfectly.

He read in Enzo’s book that if you want to be appealing to a woman, you should sit across her at a table and if about to win a man’s heart, you should sit right beside him. So, the first trick he tried was sitting across you at the table in all cases, even if it meant two people — including you — sitting on the one side and five people squeezed together on the one across because Mattheo wanted to sit across you with millimeter accuracy. First, you didn’t understand it one bit. You only sensed Mattheo growing weirder by the day and your friends having more fun directly proportionally and putting two and two together, you realized these two are actually related.

The next thing was wearing red. Now this one was a hilarious one; on Tuesday afternoon when you, Enzo, and Mattheo were due to study together for Arithmancy (which, may I mention, Mattheo only took up because you did so too), Mattheo slumped down on the chair across you at the table in the library, wearing a Gryffindor hoodie.

“What on earth-“ Enzo shook his head in disbelief but you had to fight back a loud outburst of laughter.

“Hi, Y/N,” Mattheo grinned confidently but you shook your head with a grin still lingering on your lips.

“Whose is this?” you nodded in the direction of the hoodie hugging his upper body.

See, the problem with wearing red was that he didn’t own a single clothing piece of the colour, so he had to think outside the box and be creative for this one.

He looked down nonchalantly and shrugged with that familiar smirk. “Longbottom’s. I’m sure he doesn’t mind.”

Enzo buried his face into his hands next to you, trying to hold a groan back from escaping as your mouth hung open and your eyes widened. “He doesn’t know?”

“His door was open…”

You, knowing Mattheo, lifted your eyebrows in disbelief as he clearly didn’t tell the exact truth.

“Well- it wasn’t open, but soon it opened magically and I took it as an invitation…”

“You Alohomora’d his door to get a burgundy hoodie for Merlin-knows-what?”

“Well, y- wait. Burgundy? This is red,” Mattheo shook his head as he stiffened. He was convinced it was pure red — boys and their eyes for colours, huh?

Enzo snorted a laugh finally, knowing exactly Mattheo was trying to use the ‘red makes you appear more attractive’ law of psychology on you and he technically failed.

“No, darling, this is burgundy,” you chuckle which by the way, Mattheo found adorable, even in the middle of his embarrassment, plus, you called him darling — so he took it that you actually fell for his trick and, well, for him too.

But of course, there were things in Enzo’s psychology book Mattheo didn’t even think of doing. This was, for one, playing hard to get. Because he knew his eyes would have failed him every time he’d tried to close you out, and he knew exactly how well you were able to see right through him. You being concerned about him was also a problem with this because as Pansy once absent-mindedly drew his attention to how you noticed people’s energies shift pretty quickly, he had to close this option out completely.

Another one was putting on a cocky, intimidating, or prideful look because of the same reason; you noticing the energy shifts, and because no matter how hard he’d tried, that stupid grin had grown on him and your sight only fueled it.

He tried mirroring your body language, too. You were leaning forward at breakfast, tiredly resting against the wooden dining table? He was sitting opposite you, sitting as if he was actually in your mirror. You ran a hand through your hair? Guess what, he had to scratch his head. Even when your leg was bouncing nervously under the desk in History of Magic, he sure mirrored it.

You weren’t oblivious to this either, and you knew something was up — but you simply thought he was playing a prank on you. And your friends being awfully quiet whenever you brought up how weird Mattheo was being around you only added to your suspicion.

“I see” was a common way for him to start whatever he had on his mind. Because, research by MIT showed that women were more attracted to men who used the phrases “I see,” “Okay,” and “Yep.” And for him, he used them until he’s grown sick of them.

But of all the things he’d tried, his favourite — and yours too — was touching. Touching you had always lightened his day, even if it was just a tap on your shoulder to enquire about the time. And his touch provided reassurance for you, whenever he touched you for even a split second you knew you had someone to count on, someone to be comforted by. When you were tired in class he had a shoulder to offer for you to rest your head on (not Theo though because he could go fuck himself rather than sleep on his best friend’s shoulder, respectfully, in the best friend in question’s opinion.) When you were anxious, he chose to put his quill down and not take notes, rather have his hand comforting you by rubbing little circles on your thigh just above your knee (and sometimes a little too high), having his arm around you or playing with your hair, saying he’d borrow your notes later to catch up, which he never did.

However, things haven’t changed for two more weeks. And, as time went on, Mattheo grew more and more desperate, seeking the moment he could finally hold you in his arms and kiss the life out of you. He was waiting for the moment when he could confess his love to you — or, which would have been more convenient, and a whole ego boost for him, to have you come crawling by yourself, singing odes about him. But he realized it was a rather unlikely scenario that lived rent-free in his head.

“That book sucks,” Mattheo complained to Enzo one evening in the common room frustratedly as he sank into the green velvet material of the couch.

“Why so?” Enzo didn’t even look up from his Transfiguration essay he was desperately trying to put a dot on the end of for an hour.

“‘Cause I tried everything! And Y/N still doesn’t have a clue how I love her,” he let out a grunt as he let his head fall back against the backrest of the sofa and rubbed his closed eyes tiredly. “She’s still not into me.”

“I am into you,” your voice came down on him like a rain of cold ice. After nagging for two whole weeks, Pansy agreed to fill you in about what Mattheo called his master plan, and you finally understood what it was all about.

Mattheo’s eyes shot open to see he hasn’t hallucinated your reassuring words in that sweet tone you always talk to him with, and to make sure you are very physically standing there. He quickly got up from where he was and sat on the couch next to Enzo, who seemed to be in a completely other world with how concentrated he was on his Transfiguration homework.

Mattheo quickly made his way over to you, standing just a few feet apart with that stupid grin already growing on his lips as he took you, your gorgeous figure, bright smile, and shiny eyes in. “Are you now, princess?” He asked in a tone sweet like honey while tugging a strand of hair behind your ear.

You rolled your eyes at him before taking a step closer to the point that your chests were grinding against each other, to Mattheo’s biggest pleasure. And before he knew it, your lips came crashing against his in a long-awaited kiss and his arms slithered around your waist so naturally like they were made to be resting there. However, you pulled away after a few seconds before it could’ve got a little too carried away. “Did you really steal Longbottom’s hoodie so that I’d find you more attractive?” You chuckled with a touched but still a little mocking smile.

“Borrowed it. I returned it after you told me it wasn’t the right colour,” he rolled his eyes at you too, but he was the happiest guy on earth right then and there because he had all right to wrap his arms around you like a shield, protecting you from the world and its horrible people.

[soxcietyy]

Anatomy

Gojo x reader

18 + You’re about to take one of the most important exams. Unfortunately you suck at your anatomy and need to learn the material fast. Luck for you Gojo is good at everything, not only that but he’s also a teacher. Soon you learn about his odd teaching techniques.

"I don’t think I’ll be able to pass this test." You groan as you drink your coffee Shoko had bought you.

You were out with the two of your friends so they could cheer you up. As a healer you had to go the health care route in your studies but it wasn’t so simple.

"Why don’t you just cheat? Shoko is cheating!" Gojo looks at her before returning his gaze back at you.

You let out a deep sign as you slouch in your chair.

Just because she’s cheating doesn’t mean you should too. She’s had some good memory so it was easy to learn everything for her. Unlike you who had to actually go study for it.

Shoko said she would help you cheat through the homework, quizzes, project but you where on your own for the final exam. If you wanted to graduate at the same time as her then you would have to ace this anatomy exam tomorrow.

You felt too scared to cheat. What if you were caught? You would be academically expelled!

You groan loudly before looking up at your friends who had worried expressions.

"How bad do you guys think I’m going to do?" You ask.

"Fail"

"You’ll be fine"

They both said at the same time. Shoko elbows Gojo and then proceeds to grab your hands.

"Just study hard. I would love to help but I have a mission to go on but…" she turns to look at Gojo who was biting his biscuit. "But Gojo here is a teacher now."

Ah right, that moron did take up a teaching job right after graduating. Now that you think about it Shoko might be right. He’s a teacher! His job is to teach material to students. He could help you learn everything you need to. Not only that but he was good at everything he did, he would be able to learn everything in no time.

"Gojo you have to teach me!" You say with a pleading look.

"Haha, right as if you would want to learn anything from me. Don’t you two always make fun of me? Saying I’ll be a horrible teacher and whatnot."

Both of you glare at him.

"Ah, your serious I see.,." He says confused yet surprised.

—-

He was taking his sweet time looking over your text book. Giggling over a few certain pages before slamming the book shut.

You lift your head up from the couches arm.

"Alright I got everything down. Do you want to start with the bones or muscles?"

Gojo decided that the best place to study was in the comfort of his own home. You had protested by saying a library or coffee shop would be better because it would motivate you more.

He then proceeded to call you delusional and dragged you to his place.

It’s not like you haven’t been here before. You all used to hang out here almost everyday during high school. Now he was too busy working while you and Shoko were busy at school trying to get a masters degree.

"Bones"

You figured out really soon that his teaching techniques were quite odd.

Wack

"Ow! What was that for?!" You say as you rub your thigh.

Did he really just hit you with his arm?

"Where did I hit you?" He asks.

"My thigh you idio-"

"Wrong, tell me the name of the bone."

Ah, of course. You sigh as you tell him that he hit your femur with his ulna.

Wack, wack

That’s how studying went for a while. Eventually he would speed up the process by going faster and by hitting multiple spots at once. At the end you felt so sore.

You laid sprawled out on the floor as an ice bag rested on your rib cage.

At this point five long hours had gone by. Thankfully you had learned all the skeletal bones in the body but it was taking longer than you initially expected it to. If you guys keep on like this then it would take you forever to learn the muscles.

"You look so defeated already." Gojo said amused as you laid still.

"This is just harder than I thought it was going to be. Don’t you have a different way of learning anatomy without hurting me?" You ask.

You saw his mouth turn into a wide grin before he squatted down.

"I do have a different way but I feel like you’d dislike it." He smiles.

"I Dont care, I just need to learn the muscles in two hours!" You say looking at the clock.

"Let’s put consequences, people are prone to make less mistakes and to try harder if there’s a punishment."

You roll your eyes.

The exam was early in the morning and you needed all the rest you could get. He was just wasting time at this point. You sigh and just go along with his nonsense.

He grabs your hand and pulls you up so you could sit. He then sat across from you and took his mask off from his face.

He must finally be taking this seriously. Grabbing your hand once again he pulls your index finger and puts it on his cheek.

This was the exact same method, just with no pain involved.

"Masseter"

Then he dragged your finger to his temple.

"Temporalis"

You watch as he squints his eyes at you and looks at you suspiciously.

"I thought you needed help. Seems like you have it down."

"I obviously know a few things. For example the obvious ones like biceps. I know everything above the neck too."

He sits there in his thoughts for a moment before grabbing your hand again.

He slowly unfolded your hand and brought it to his chest. It surprised you for a second but you quickly remembered why he was doing this.

"Breast."

The both of you look at each other for a solid second. Holding eye contact before he suddenly burst out laughing. He had to catch his breath before correcting you.

"Pectoralis major"

Right… you would have totally gotten that right if it wearing for him doing such a thing.

You repeat the answer under your breath as he moves your hand once again.

This time it’s was his abs.

You swallow hands as he runs your hands over them. He wore a tight black shirt making it feel like it was his real skin. You could tell he was watching you carefully. Trying to read the facial expressions you were making. He was enjoying this…

You could concentrate at all. You had the answer on the tip of your tongue but it would spill out.

He kept running your hand up and down

"You’re taking too long y/n, the answer is recuts abdominus. We can come back to it later. Shall I give you a hard one?" He asks.

Maybe this was enough for today. Clearly he was toying with you and you had no time for such thing. Once you get home you’re going to study till midnight.

He moved your hand before you could tell him the study session was over.

It took you a moment to realize what you where not touching and it was indeed hard.

You jolt as he squeezed your hand around his length.

Don’t think about it.

Don’t think about it.

Don’t think about it.

Just answer the stupid question and be over with his games.

"Your small penis"

He glare’s at you as he runs your hand up and down his shaft.

"You know well this isn’t small."

You turn to look away from him so he wouldn’t see your cheeks turning pink. You could feel how it twitched under your touch, how it was pulsing begging to be let out. Begging for any sort of attention. Something you weren’t willing to give so easily.

"Anyways you’re wrong. A penis isn’t a muscle."

Huh?

"It’s not?! But you can move it right?"

Gojo for some reason took this as in invitation to unbutton his pants and to spring it out. You didn’t know whether to look away or take this as a learning observation.

Learning! You’re doing this to learn about the human anatomy! You hum in your head.

Averting your eyes down you see it. That wide long monstrous thing. How could that possibly fit inside of anyone?! Who would even want to sleep with him?

He moved it somehow. You watched it move up and down slowly.

"That’s two answers wrong in a row y/n" he coos.

Right. The punishment.

"So what are you going to make me do? Run laps? push-ups? Your chores?"

"No it’s something even better. Not only will this benefit me but it’s also going to make you learn a bit faster hopefully." He says.

Grabbing your leg he drags you towards him. You yelp at the sudden surprise. You knew he was a hundred times stronger than you so you didn’t bother to fight back. You watched him carefully as he climbed over you. His hair dangling over you.

He leans in slowly into your ear and whispered six words.

"I’m going to put it in."

Your breath hitches as you pushed him back.

This man was trying to kill you! There’s no way, absolutely no way that was going to fit in you at all! Of course you’ve had your fare share of men in you but nothing this big.

You shake your head repeatedly at him.

"You scared? Don’t worry I’ll be nice and careful. I’ll even let you stop me from moving if you answer my questions right." Gojo moves your hair to the back of your ear.

He ran his thumb over your temple in circles trying to sooth you.

All you had to do was get the answer correct right? You’ll just get them all right so he won’t even be able to enter you.

You feel as his hands run over your waist. His cold hands touching your sensitive skin before he gripped your bottoms and yanked them down. Your hands quickly go down to hide everything but he was quick to grab both of your wrist with one hand.

"You’re tempting me to just ram into you if you keep squirming like that."

You stay still causing him to laugh.

"Since you got two wrong I get to put two inches in." He says as he lines himself up with your hole.

You kick him and yell at him to stretch you out first but he refuses by saying that it wouldn’t be a punishment if he were to do that. With that out the way he began sliding into you. The second his tip went in you let out a cry of pain.

You try to run away by scooting back but he held you down and kept going in.

His eyes would squeeze shut at he bit his bottom lip. You could feel as he gripped your wrist and the leg he was holding up.

You let out a louder cry as he kept going. Begging him to stop and to let you adjust. There’s no way women actually enjoyed sleeping with him. He was carrying and actual weapon. He could literally kill someone with that.

Once he did stop you let out a loud groan.

"Such a good girl, you’re doing so good. Who would have know you were so tight." He kisses the inside of your leg.

You whimper in protest.

"What’s this?"

He points at the side of his rib cage.

"Y-your external oblique." Your voice trembles.

"Atta girl."

He then points at the middle part of his thigh.

You began to panic. Name, what’s the name?!why couldn’t they have simple names?! Why are there so many different muscles?

You open your mouth hoping the right answer would hopefully come out. The femur was located there so it had to have the word in the name right? Or at least rhyme with it. Femur-loris? Femoris? That sounded right but what if there’s a second part. Or maybe it was just one word.

You looked at him hoping for a hint but he just stared at you. Finding it amusing the way you were trying to think so hard while he was inside of you.

"You’re taking too long." He says as he shoves himself deeper inside of you.

Ngh!

You whimper as gets I n deeper.

"Femoris!" You yell out.

He makes you take in another inch.

"Fuck! You piece of shit! You’re a horrible teacher! I’m not going to learn anything like this!" You curse at him.

He slams the rest of his three inches inside of you causing you to cry. Your eyes almost roll back as you felt him stuff you. He slams your arms above your head and presses his pelvis deeper into yours. Rolling his hips over and over again making you go crazy. Your eyes began to water as you felt overwhelmed. Hot tears coating your eyelash.

Mascar stains your under eyes and your face begins to heat up. You’re begging him to slow down. Looking at him with a pleading look.

"Gojo, please! I don’t know the answer. I can’t even think straight right now!" You sob.

“Recuts Femoris." He says through his teeth.

He leads your hand to his chest and makes you tell him the answer to that one again.

You give him the correct name of it and felt as he began to slow down inside of you. He lets go of your wrists and brings his thumb to your clit. Rubbing it in circles to give you pleasure.

"A reward for being such a smart girl." He whispers.

He watches as you squirm and jolt at the sensation. He kept sliding in and out of you slowly but the pleasure was more overwhelming than the pain.

You start moaning out his name the faster he went. You’ve never felt this good before. With all the men you slept this had to the best one yet. He wasn’t even fucking you probably! He was toying with you!

What would it feel like if he was actually trying?

"Can’t you just fuck me properly?!" You say

He looks at you shocked before smiling. He put your legs over each shoulder and leaned in closer to you. You moan as he somehow reached a deeper area inside of you.

"I will when you get everything down and if you pass I’ll even eat you out." He groans as he grinds himself onto you.

You don’t know how or where all of this knowledge came from all of a sudden. Each place he pointed out you got the right answer, well almost. You would slip a few times making him pull away and slam into you. At some point your body finally adjusted to his length. This making the punishment more wanted. Sometimes you got the answers wrong on purpose.

By the end you had everything down and he was finally fucking you the way you wanted.

He had you on your knees as he plowed into you.

"I think this technique of learning is way better. Now shall we keep doing this for every exam?" He grins.

[discotitsposts]

meant to be

Spencer trying and failing to flirt with you because you are oblivious to his attempts.

spencer reid x reader

i picture this as later seasons spencer maybe sometime around 12-14?

some mature themes mentions of sex at the end so 18+

writing this because i saw something about people who are bad at flirting and that’s literally me. (i hope ppl get the reference w the nickname)

Spencer had tried every day to get your attention romantically. It didn’t work. Nothing did. You were so oblivious to all of his flirting attempts. He figured maybe you had trouble understanding so he worked harder to make you think of him as more than a friend. He tried everything his genius brain could come up with.

He even made up a nickname for you, Bean, because you always had a coffee in your hand, and because he was taller than you.

Today you were getting coffee with him as usual. At your favorite coffee shop and library. You didn’t work at the BAU so you would eventually have to go to your own job so Spencer decided to try again.

Since you lived in the same building, neighbors in the same hall, he picked you up every morning. Drove you to get coffee and you each picked a book for each other and then he drove you to work.

He knocks on your door awaiting anxiously. You come out in your outfit, just a t shirt and jeans. you didn’t have a dress code at your job, you were an author and usually went into a nice office that the publishing company provided to write since you had a hard time focusing in your apartment. Too many distractions.

In Spencer’s car you make small talk as he tries to think of a way to flirt with you. Normally he’d call Morgan but his son was a toddler now so he was busy. He gets so lost in his head he doesn’t realize he just ran a stop sign on accident and almost hit someone.

He hears you yell “Spencer what the fuck!” and slams the brakes. The other car honks and his heart is pounding in his brain. He pulls to the side of the road and stops.

“Spencer. Breathe. It’s ok.” You worry tracing your face at the sight of his extremely fast breathing and you rub his back reassuringly.

“Holy shit.” He barely chokes out. His face is beet red and he looks like he’s about to have a panic attack.

“Switch.” You tell him. He looks at you and feels comforted immediately by your face. “Let’s go, switch.” You get out of the car and switch sides.

‘So much for flirting’ he thinks. Then it hits him. When he picks your book for the day, he’ll give you a romantic story. Something that says ‘I really like you but I’m an idiot so I don’t know how to tell you but i’m not actually an idiot because im technically a genius but my fucked up life has ruined romance for me but i’d love to try it with you if you are okay with that.’

When you take over driving you don’t talk. You just focus on the road. You had even turned the music off. He hopes you’re not upset with him. That thought quickly dissipates when you pull into the parking lot and your face is beaming. You both race to the entrance and he gets there first and opens the door for you. You stick your tongue out at him and he smirks.

You order your usual drinks and he gets himself a breakfast bagel and you get a croissant. He puts the food at a table and you both get up to grab each other a book. You had yours picked since last night, The Godfather. It’s only a little over 400 pages so he’ll probably finish it by lunch time but at least it will be fun for him since it will make him think of you. At least you hope it does.

You have a habit of making funny commentary during movie nights. When you watched ‘The Godfather’ trilogy with Spencer he had laughed so hard he cried.

Meanwhile Spencer is searching rows of books looking for the right one. He moves to poetry but nothing feels right. He feels slightly frustrated so he moves back to classics and picks ‘A Little Princess’ instead. A favorite of yours you had read in elementary school. Not romantic but shows he knows you well.

When he makes his way back to the register to check the book out, you’re already seated munching your croissant. He makes his way to you and hides the book behind his back. You discreetly pull yours out of your bag and hide it the same way.

“1,2,3!” You both count at the same time and then reveal your books. Spencer cracks up when he sees the book you had picked. He had read this before but he enjoyed it because it reminded him of you. You both eat and finish your coffees. You look at each other.

“More?” Spencer asks.

“Obviously.” You answer. You both stand up and order more coffee.

Back in Spencer’s car you open the book and start reading. He’s about to put the key in the ignition when sudden confidence hits him. He doesn’t know if it’s the caffeine but he doesn’t care. He should kiss you right now. He stares at you until you look up.

“You’re going to be late for work if you don’t start that engine up soon Mr. Chauffeur.” You tease him.

He leans closer and puckers his lips slightly. He’s so filled with lust he just can’t wait anymore.

You look at him strangely. Was he trying to kiss you right now? Probably not. Truth was you were always so filled with doubt whenever you liked someone. Especially Spencer. He was just too handsome and sweet and perfect.

He leans in even closer to you and tilts his head. You, however, had gone back to your book and weren’t even looking at him.

“Does this make you uncomfortable” Spencer leans in closer. He closes his eyes and you lean down to reach for something from your bag. He doesn’t feel your soft lips on his and thinks he may have missed your face. He opens his eyes.

“Everything does. I have anxiety Spencer. All the time anywhere day and night. ” You reply while eating a yogurt you had found in your tote.

Spencer pulls away and smacks his forehead. He starts the car and drops you at your work and drives to the BAU feeling defeated. What would it take for you to realize how bad he wants you.

That night he decides to drop by your apartment. You had gotten a ride home from work by a friend tonight. He opens his door and walks the short distance to yours.

When his hand knocks on your door he feels nervous. You open the door and greet him.

“Hi!” You cheer.

“Hey, I was gonna order a pizza. You want?” He lies. He actually wasn’t the biggest fan of pizza. He didn’t eat it too often but it was your favorite food so why not.

“That would be great. I’m starving.” You clutch your belly dramatically. Which makes Spencer laugh.

He picks up the phone, “What would you like on the pizza m’lady.”

You tap your chin and think. “Sausage.” You reply. Spencer thinks of a way to flirt. Kind of.

“How much sausage would you like?” He asks smirking.

“Uhh, 5? I don’t know dude. The normal amount that goes on a pizza?” You answer sarcastically, going to your dvd rack to pick a movie. Spencer sighs. He calls and places the order and helps you pick a movie.

“How about ‘How To Be A Serial Killer?’ That’s a good one. I love Matthew Gray Gubler in this one so much.” You fan girl a little.

“Who the fuck is Matthew Gray Gubler? Also, no, not with my line of work. I need a break from that.” Spencer asks with a hint of jealousy in his voice. You clasp your hand over your heart dramatically.

“Ok, fine. how about a Disney Classic? Sleeping Beauty is my favorite.” You ask. Spencer nods. You put the movie on and grab two root beers from your fridge. Spencer thanks you when you hand him one and you lay a big fluffy blanket over you both. Not far into the movie the pizza arrives and you cheers Spencer with your pizza slice.

After you both eat and are full the movie is still on. You’re starting to feel sleepier by the second. Spencer offers you to lay with him and you take him up on it. He’s basically a giant teddy bear. He’s so warm and comfortable.

“I’ve got a real life sleeping beauty right here.” He whispers to you. You smile with your eyes closed. Too sleepy to open. He gets out from under you, to your dismay. He cleans up the trash from eating. He even washes some dishes you had left sitting. When he comes back, you’re still half awake. He sees you sneak an eye open to look at him and your smile after.

“It seems there’s a fair maiden who has fallen asleep. However can we wake her? What if she sleeps for a hundred years?!” He exclaims. You start giggling softly. He leans closer to observe you.

“I don’t believe it! She’s laughing in her sleep! Must be quite a funny dream. Wonder what it is. Only one way to find out.” He gently leans down and kisses your lips softly. This action puts you in shock and you’re blushing. He starts to pull away because doubts fill his mind. You grab his hair and pull him back in.

You both pull back and he starts to ask you,

“Were you ok with that?”

You cut him off, “Yes.” Then you rip your shirt off. Spencer’s in shock. He follows your lead and starts undressing. He picks you up and carries you to your bedroom. The kiss you’re sharing is deepening by the second.

“Fuck why is it so hot in here.” You complain.

“I can think of a few reasons.” Spencer had been kissing you on your neck sucking the skin softly. He lays you back on the bed. He makes you comfortable. He goes down on you and then fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before.

The next morning you woke up naked next to him flashes of last night replaying. You couldn’t believe it. Spencer was so passionate! You didn’t even imagine he liked you like that.

He groans next to you and turns over. You get up and put on some coffee. When you come back into the bedroom he’s awake and looking for you.

“Hey, coffee’s ready.” You lean over and kiss him. He groans too tired to give an answer. He pulls you into the bed and holds you longer.

With him, this felt so easy and realistic.

Then you realize something.

This was meant to be.

the end ♡

to anyone who read this far: hope u enjoyed reading!! please let me know if u enjoyed! xoxo

[itz-mfkn-de]

could you do a theo nott x ravenclaw!reader where he helps her study for a big test? but he ends up just "distracting" her ??

Yes yes yes yes yes I love u and ur brain this is amazing.

\\STUDY BUDDY// T.N

Warnings- sex, kissing, cussing, Italian, yah that’s it

TY FOR THE REQUEST ALSO IM WORKING ON THE OTHERS SORRY FOR TAKING FORVER IVE BEEN SO BUSY😭 but i love you all and i promise i am working on them.

——

You sat in your dorm room, the books around you swallowing your surroundings. You had been studying for the past couple hours and you had no intentions of stopping. This test determined if you passed the class or not, you couldn’t let yourself fall behind, not after you’d worked so hard to get to the top.

Your brows furrowed while you re read over the chapter info, trying your best to imbed it into your brain.

Your intense focus was broken by the light knocks on your door, and you knew exactly who it was.

You sighed softly and got up from your desk. You unlocked the door and slowly opened it, making eye contact with a certain brunette not long after.

“Theo, I thought you had plans with friends?” You said with a soft smile.

He walked past you and planted a kiss on your forehead, his hands tracing your waist.

“ I did, but I missed my girl,” he mumbled as his body flopped on your bed “Missed you, bella.”

“I missed you too Theo,” you walked up to him to give him a soft kiss, just wanting to feel his lips against your own for a quick moment.

He moaned once he felt the warmth of your mouth meet his, hands roaming slowly under your shirt.

You pulled back and grabbed his hands before they travelled and lower.

“No, i have to study, Theodore,” you said strictly “I can’t fail this test.”

He let out a groan.

“Amore, when have you ever failed a test? Not once, and I don’t think this is any different from before.” He replied while putting your hands on his chest and continuing.

His lips ghosted along the Side of your neck leaving you breathless.

“Theodore..I really need to study.” You grumbled as you made little attempt to push him back.

He left soft sloppy kisses where his warm breath had resided.

“Mmm, but you’re so smart already, bambina..my smart girl.” He smiled into your neck, loving how flustered you had become.

He knew exactly what he was doing. Every word that left his mouth was meticulously chosen just to make your knees weak, and Salazar save you, it was working.

“Nuh uh, I’m not letting you sweet talk me.” You stated while completely pulling yourself away from Theodore, much to his dismay.

“I have to study,” you looked at him with a glare and went back to your desk.

Every part of your body was currently on fire. You needed him in every sense of the word, but you knew you needed to finish studying first.

You tried your best to focus on your book infront of you but your mind kept wandering else where.

You heard a couple footsteps but paid no mind to whatever Theodore had decided to occupy himself with.

A couple seconds passed before you turned your head to see Theodore pulling up a chair and sitting next to you.

“Theodore, what are you doing?” You asked with a tinge of annoyance, but you couldn’t stay mad at him, not when he looked at you like that.

“ I want to help you study,” he stated while noticing your doubtful glare “I really do, no games I promise, principessa.” He assured you.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes at his boyish grin he let slip across his face.

You began reading the questions out loud, allowing him to help you answer a few of them aswell.

“Let’s make it fun, yeah?” He asked after another handful of questions had been answered.

“How do you mean?” You asked while writing a few things down with your quill.

“I’ll worry about that, you keep reading.” He ordered softly, his hands moving the hair away from the side of your neck he was facing.

You did your best to ignore him and went back to the book, focusing on the words instead of your very needy boyfriend’s hand creeping up your thigh.

His lips continued where’d they’d left off from earlier , finding specific spots that got you squirming and focusing on them.

“Theodore.. I t—I told you I need to study..” you managed to get out in between your harsh breaths.

“Mm, you work so hard, can’t have my Bella ragazza overworked…” he groaned, his hands tracking under your skirt.

“I—i” you tried to to get a complaint out, but Theodore was quick to shut you up once his hands reached your already wet core.

He let out a gutteral moan at the feeling of your wetness coating his fingers.

“See how wet you are baby? Let your self relax…let me help you.” He whispered in your ear as he pulled his hands back and lifted you from the chair.

You yelled as your back hit the bed, him finding his place on top of you not too long after.

His lips wasted no time in connecting to yours, tongue and teeth clashing against eachother with raw need being their motivation.

His hands slipped back down to your core, pulling your skirt above your hips.

Every one of your nerves felt as if it were being set on fire, the arsonist being Theodore not and his Godsend hands.

He gently rubbed your clit and discard of your panties somewhere in the room, not giving much mind to the thin layer of fabric that blocked him from what he wanted.

You shivered as his long slender fingers played with your clit, teasing you to no end.

“Bel bambino, all worked up, I’m sorry I didn’t help you sooner.” He cooed at your flustered face.

“Theo..please.” You moaned once his mouth made contact with your neck again.

“Please what, Bella, let me hear you say what you want.” He grunted through his clenched jaw as he slipped two finger into your dripping hole.

“Mio dio, sei così bagnato.” He mumbled under his breath.

You gasped at the feeling of his fingers stretching you out.

You arched your back off the bed as he continued his ministrations.

“I want you too fuck me…please.” You begged while your nails dug into his shoulders.

“Salazar fucking save me, well when you beg like that, how could I say no, Amore?” Theodore teased as he pulled his hands away from you to undo his pants.

You whined at the absence of his fingers but he was quick to pull down his boxers and push his tip against you.

He looked at you through his long eyelashes, as if asking for permission.

“Please.” Was all you could muster out before he started to slowly push into you with a hiss leaving his lips.

Your head lulled back as you felt the stretch of his thick cock set in. No matter how many times you to had fucked, you’d never get sued to when he fist pushes in.

“Santa merda, you’re so fucking tight..” he growled into your ear as he slowly pulled back only to push in a little harder than before.

You let out a moan, one louder than intended, but Theodore was quick to shut you up with his mouth on yours.

The kiss was sloppy, teeth and tongue met in a harsh collision, as his thrusts began to pick up pace.

Your hands gripped the sheets, trying to resurface yourself. Theos thrust became relentless, giving you no time to catch your breath at all.

His grip on your chin was replaced by wet sloppy kisses. His hands found their place next to your head.

“Theo I c— oh my fuck.” You whimpered out.

“Cmon, Bella, let go f’me.” He slurred out through his gritted teeth while whispering some Italian curses under his breath.

Your back arched from the bed as you sucked in a harsh breath of air, feeling everything in your body set on fire.

Your head spun as you rode out your high through theos thrust.

He quickly pulled out and came on your stomach, flopping down next to you.

You stared at the ceiling while you caught your breath.

“You are never allowed to study with me again.” You joked at Theodore, turning your body on its side to face him.

He gave you his signature grin, kissing you like you were the only girl in the world.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Hitman // Accident

Imagine you wake up tied to a chair ducktape over your mouth and the weight of gravity weighing on your chest. Finally gaining your bearings you realize you are haphazardly hanging from a rickety-looking bridge above a raging river by a man in a black compression shirt a bored look on his face and a phone to his ear. You don’t try to struggle only watching wide-eyed as you hope this Hitman doesn’t drop you 

“Really…the wrong one? Fine, I’ll figure it out.”

Breathing is so much easier when he pulls you from the edge with one hand by the way. He doesn’t untie you sighing exasperatedly while running a hand through his hair. Finally, he takes the ducktape off your mouth waving off your barrage of questions. 

“Look things happened and I was supposed to kill someone who looks a lot like you but not.”

“So you're a hitman and you made a mistake?”

“Yup.”

“Are you going to kill me for knowing you then?”

“I don’t have to.”

“Then can I go home?”

“Er no.”

“Because I’m going to talk?”

“No more like you wouldn’t be able to get into the country anyway.”

Turns out the hitman who happened to target you was incredibly too thorough and ended up burning your ID, crafting up a reasonable missing persons case for you, and making it hard for you to do anything in the country that you can’t properly even find on a map. So to combat the absolute mess of having to go through all the legalese and interrogation you’d go through to get back to your life he comes up with his solution.

“How about you just stay with me? I’ve got more than enough room.”

And he does. It's a place that’s like a small castle, he reasons it’s best that you just help clean the place and maybe make a meal or two. You accept not that you had any other choice at this point so he’ll untie you and take you there. Wherever this backwater country is he’s got a home filled with villagers who are happy to care for it. And in a language you don’t recognize they celebrate it when he brings you home, cheering and excitedly holding your hands. He can’t help but laugh at you while you try to figure things out.

“Hey! What was she saying before?”

“You really shouldn’t just blindly nod to what people are saying. That’s what gets you in trouble.”

“What else am I supposed to do?! She was smiling so wide it must’ve been something nice, right?”

“Hahaha, you're hopelessly adorable.”

When this Hitman is not sitting around laughing at you or mistranslating your requests, he’s not so bad. As the only one who understands what you’re saying and can actually respond to you in a rewarding way. Dismissing that he ruined your everyday life, he’s decent company usually smirking to himself while he makes fun of whatever you're doing. 

“That hat is way too big for you and so are your clothes. It’s kinda cute.”

“It’s not cute! For whatever reason nobody will give me anything other than your clothes it’s really inconvenient.”

“How do you know they're mine?”

“Because they smell like–”

“Awwww are you smelling me in your free time (Y/n)?”

“NO! Wait it’s just an observation—”

“Ewww so perverted (Y/n)~”

When he’s not around to mess with you, he’s off to work. Wearing those same tight-fitted pants he did when you first woke up. It’s…a little sad sometimes. He is the only one you can easily communicate with but you manage to enjoy the thousands of books he has in his home, hang out with the kittens of the farm, and slowly but surely get a grasp on the language all the villagers speak. Maybe one day you can surprise him by being able to call him out the next time he tries to humiliate you to the villagers. It certainly keeps you occupied from thinking about going home anytime soon.

“That’s another body in the ground. Where’s my money?”

The hitman once again casually dismembers another target for his client, taking a quick picture before hurrying to the store. You did say you were a fan of a certain gaming system, he’s got more than enough to spend now that he’s completed another job. Not that he really needed to that amount he had could very well pay for the entire lives of generations to come. That is if he hasn’t budgeted for a luxurious life with you.

“Mmm, which one should I get? Hmm?”

“Oh, are you interested in some of our AAA titles?”

“Not for me but for my partner….I’m just worried they’ll leave me and our kids out while playing.”

“Well if you like we have some lighthearted multiplayer games.”

“That’s perfect!”

He does plan as though you already have kids. He doesn’t need to know if you two will conceive with him or adopt but it doesn’t matter it’s happening. Because to him, you two are already bound to be happily married—all according to his plan. He’s just glad it’s going off so far without a hitch.

“Hi I’m back!”

“Welcome welcome hope everything went well for you chief!”

“How are their studies coming?”

“Decent but they’ll never fully be able to grasp the codes, just as you planned.”

“Perfect. (Y/n) they’re saying you should be the one to massage me this time.”

“What?! There is no way they said that.”

Your hitman’s greatest power is his nonchalant attitude. It’s what allows you to accept that it was his carelessness that led to you being targeted in the first place. It’s what have you not looking twice when ‘the villager’ demands you both feed each other. It might take a while before you fully become the you–he envisioned in his plans but he can wait.

After all your hitman’s waited this long. He doesn’t mind waiting a little more.

“Don’t think too much and let’s just let fate that I’ve chosen decide.”