#Riki Nishimura

[bambisnc]

          . . swimming through the cherry sky

° ˖ ➴ “forget whatever you think you knew. vampires exist.”

### . STARRING ⌢ n.rk ⋆ suggestive? + 1.3k // unedited + roommate trope + blood drinking ˖ ✧

🗨️ .. ⌞ XOXO ⌝ vamki enthusiasts hi + alt vrs hidden somewhere in txt + [m.list]

you've had your suspicions for a while now. the irregular, conspicuous late nights. the stains that eerily resemble dried blood and something else you can’t quite name but feel in your bones. an instinct that something was odd.

but bless your heart, you just can't bring yourself to actually accuse your roommate, nishimura riki, of anything.

besides, what would you have even said, anyway? 

"hey, roommate! what a wonderful day it is today, huh? the weather sure is … happening! by the way, if i may ask, is there any chance that you might be a bloodthirsty, monstrous creature? just curious haha!"

yeah. that wouldn't work. obviously.

not that you had the ability to even stay in the same room as him long enough to put together a few coherent words. but merely the air around him was enough to have shivers running down your spine. and yet, the worst part of it all? 

he’s never actually tried anything to cause harm to you. never once warranted your fears. which only makes you feel like you’re losing your damn mind.

so you do the only thing you can do. watch from a distance; observe. bide your time and keep trying to piece things together while ensuring to stay as far away as you possibly can. which, considering you live together, is pretty much next to impossible.

and then, after months of feeling like the tension would just about eat you alive, something finally happens. 

it had been a relatively slow day. your roommate had kept to himself as usual, doing nothing out of the ordinary. nothing you could consider hard proof, that is. 

having decided on an early night for yourself, you were in bed, adorned with comfortable night clothes. that was when you’d heard it. 

a dull thump! 

followed up, as if on cue, by a low, guttural groan. the pain in the raspy noise was clear enough to make your stomach twist. against your better judgement, curse you for being soft-hearted, you leave the comfort the safety of your room and towards the adjacent hallway. the door in front of you was slightly ajar, ink like shadows spilling out.

and then you see him.

hunched over, collapsed by the edge of his bed, barely able to hold himself up. riki looks too pale – ashen, almost, like all the warmth has been drained from his body. his breath comes in ragged, uneven gasps. he looks like he’s seconds from death’s door.

your entrance wasn’t as quiet as you’d meant for it to be however. he lifts his head, with a considerable amount of exertion, letting his gaze – dark, unreadable – meet yours. when he speaks, it’s hushed. completely unlike the usual confident drawl he uses otherwise. 

“it’s dangerous for you to be in here when i’m like this.”

“what-” you swallow down all the questions bubbling inside your throat. “... are you okay?..”

sure, this was probably the only opportunity you’d have with him this vulnerable but, you can’t bring yourself to take advantage of his weakened state. you venture a little closer to him, to properly be able to appraise his condition, despite your entire being begging you not to.

barely being able to hear his answer, you lean closer still to be able to pick up on the yet again hesitant, reluctant mumble, “i … haven’t fed in a while.”

your heart goes cold. you can all but feel the blood rushing into your ears as you struggle to process what riki just said. obviously, he doesn’t mean that in the literal sense. right?

but before you can even reach a conclusion, decide whether or not to let your flight instinct take control and rush out of here, call someone, anyone for help — with a fluid motion, you find your positions completely switched.

your back meets the hard edge of the bed with a jolt. he kneels in front of you now, towering. his frame eclipses yours, one arm braced on the bed, the other steadying himself on the floor. you can tell he isn’t even putting much effort, but he’s able to cage you in without even trying. no longer can you delude yourself into thinking you have any semblance of control over the situation. 

there’s no mistaking it. not with that look in his eyes, the pupils fast dilating – were they always tinged that slight shade of … red? there can be no more excuses, no more pretending that you’re just being paranoid. because this … 

… this is real.

“this isn’t happening. it can’t be.” you whisper, as if saying it out loud will manifest it into existence. as if it’ll wake you up from whatever bad fever dream this is.

he looks almost amused, for a second. lips twitching as if he finds your denial to be funny. 

and then he’s leaning in closer, closer until … something sharp grazes against your delicate neck. your breath hitches sharply at the sensation. 

“forget whatever you think you knew.” his voice is steadier than it was earlier. more certain, more sure of itself. “vampires exist.” ...

where riki’s lips ghost over your neck, his touch is featherlight but somehow still constricting. he tilts your head slightly, movements agonizingly slow exposing it even more to himself.

“can i?..” his voice is strained, as he grits out the words but you appreciate the warning. 

even if it might not be of any actual meaning, “do i have a choice?”

“not really, no. i’m sorry.” 

and then, a sharp, electric sting as his fangs pierce your skin.

the pain flashes for only a moment, though, before a haze-like dizziness takes its place. sinking into your bones, making your limbs go weaker than they felt before.

his free hand shifts from the floor – after he gains some semblance of his former strength, you assume – and he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers digging into the skin as if it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to the living world. it’s a strange sensation, to say the least. the action is rhythmic, if nothing else. 

only when a soft, barely audible gasp escapes you does he pull away, fangs retracting. 

his tongue licks against the open wound in what you would only later discover was supposed to be a means to soothe. before you even realize it, you’re reaching for him, clutching onto his shirt, albeit rather weakly in some sort of attempt of grounding yourself.

you don’t know what to say about it. you don’t even know how to feel.

but what you do know is that he’s still looking at you. eyes dark, lips stained red with your blood, chest rising and falling like he’s just barely holding himself together. 

looking at him like this, it’s clear as day that he needs more. the struggle, the desperation, the way he seems to be at war with himself. 

so you do what any good roommate would do, the words leaving you before you can second guess your decision. you offer yourself to him. 

“take what you need.”

his expression flickers. hesitation, shock, relief, aching. “you don’t have to—” he sounds like he wants to refuse, like he knows he should refuse. 

but when you tilt your head back slightly, just enough for the previous mark to be visible, you practically hear his resolve crack.

riki presses in close again, with more an ease this time and as the alien sensation you’re growing more and more familiar to takes over, you exhale a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.

“you.. fuck.” his voice is muffled between slow, languid sucks – unhurried, this time. more deliberate. “you’re a terrible roommate.” 

you huff out as best as you can, in your (slightly lightheaded) condition “hah... why is that?”  a pause. his thumb swipes over the place his lips had been seconds earlier, as if reassuring himself of your pulse. “because this means i owe you.”

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

[@bambisnc] 2k25

[hannichive]

          tongue tied . . <3

### . STARRING ⌢ n.rk ⋆ crack + 0.5k // alt vers of this + roommate trope + blood drinking ˖ ✧

🗨️ .. ⌞ XOXO ⌝ stream minnie's solo yall + [m.list]

for a vampire, your roommate really didn’t seem to be much of a bloodthirsty creature. 

is what you found yourself thinking, as seconds trickled away – each agonizingly slow, with riki’s fangs poised right above your neck. he could bite you, if he so wished. not like you’d be able to struggle in your current position.

but … for some reason he just … didn’t.

“what the absolute fuck,” your exclamation surprises you as much as it does him, “is wrong with you?”

his eyes flash at you once, before he bows his head and shifts from where he essentially had you pinned. “i told you. it’s not safe to be here.

… i’m sorry. really. i didn’t mean to startle you.”

and honestly, yes you were shocked. not by his actions though. more by the lack of them. 

what happened to the bloodlust you’d been hearing gothic horror tales about all your childhood? when vampires go too long without feeding, aren’t their base instincts supposed to take over? don’t they basically … pounce on the first victim they see?

“? you sound awfully disappointed.”

oh fuck, did you say that out loud? your roommate is looking at you with the slightest hint of a smirk. so, you did. how lovely.

“i just meant,” you attempt to defend your earlier ramblings, “that i was um-”

“so i take it you don’t mind offering me your blood.”

“i … don’t, no.”

“well don’t mind if i make good use of that, then.” his actions are careful, an antithesis to his careless, teasing words. riki lifts your wrist towards him, pressing a soft kiss to the inner side. 

he looks towards you one more time, for confirmation. and then a sigh, as he bites into the tender flesh. 

it’s … almost cute. and the irony isn’t lost on you, at all.

a powerful being, feared for centuries – kneeling before you, with his head lowered. the reverent stance is honestly, rather alluring. you allow your free hand to run through his tousled hair, carding through the strands. it’s almost laughable having riki in front of you like this to think that you once felt terrified at the mere sight of him.

a low groan makes itself known from him at your movements, as he leans into your touch further, approvingly. one would almost think he was a starved cat being given milk. which, you assume, despite not being the best metaphor isn’t far from the truth. 

when he’s had his fill, riki uses the back of his hand to wipe the remnants off his lips. 

and afterwards as you lean in again, closing the newly formed distance between you, he tilts his head slightly in question. 

you don’t deign the action with a response, despite the cuteness of it, instead simply pressing a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. 

“you missed some right here.” 

… the blush on his face afterwards is, without exaggeration, to absolutely die for. oh you were going to enjoy rooming with this vampire.

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

[@bambisnc] 2k25

[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

[geutori]

⠀ ⠀ 📔⠀ ⠀ /⠀ ⠀ KISS LATER

⠀ ⠀ 𝓢𝖸𝖭𝖮𝖯𝖲ℐ𝖲⠀ : ⠀ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖺 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌。

⠀ ⠀ 西村力 ⠀ ⟡⠀ 𝒇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ⠀ ⠀𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗎 ⠀ ⠀ 𝟥𝟫𝟤 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 ⠀ ⠀ 𝗰𝘄. ⠀ 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾 ⠀ ⠀ 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. ⠀ 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 (𝗈𝗀 𝗇𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗎𝗉) 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽!

“are you doneeeee?” riki whined, the boy laying himself across your legs that were stretched out on your bed.

“no, you dodo,” you looked over your laptop, giggling at his antics childish antics. “i have, like, three pages left.”

the boy whined again, kicking his legs in a bit of a fit. it was funny seeing a boy of six feet throw a tantrum, but you adored his reactions. he was comfortable with showing his childish side, and that made you love him more.

“put the laptop awaaaaaay,” he whined again, looking at you with pouty lips. “pay attention to meeeeeee!”

you giggled again, shaking your head while typing away at your laptop, showing your work more attention than your boyfriend.

it caused riki to huff, realizing his whining isn’t working like it used to. he got off your legs and sat up, grumbling over the fact you care more about your stupid research paper than your own boyfriend.

who cares about that when he’s right there?!

“can i please have a kiss? i promise i’ll leave you alone.” he tried to compromise, a bit of hopefulness in his voice. taking a seat next you, he peered over your shoulder and read what you had typed on your paper so far.

you shook your head again, your eyes not leaving your screen. “nope. work now, kiss later.”

riki let out an annoyed groan, dropping his head on your shoulder. not matter how much he begged, you wouldn’t let up. but riki had a plan.

he began to lightly nudge your shoulder with his head, his fingers poking your sides as he tried to garner your attention.

and it worked!

you rolled your eyes, your fingers no longer clicking against your keyboard as you looked at your boyfriend.

“riki, what the hell are you doing?”

he looked up at you, giving you a mischievous smile before sitting up properly. “i want a kiss.”

you let out a deep sigh. it was obvious he wouldn’t stop pestering you until you gave into him. to appease him, you carefully cupped his chin, placing a swift kiss on his pretty lips.

“there. happy?”

your hands hover over your keyboard, fingers itching to type, but riki stops you, cupping your face and making you face him again.

“nope, gimme more.” he says before capturing you in another kiss.

© GEUTORI, 2024 ⠀/ ⠀my works are purely fiction and, in no way, reflect the idol as a person. please like and reblog if you enjoyed!

[elikajinnie]

Wisdom And Death - N.R

P: DemiGod!Ni-ki X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Teasing, Sword fighting, Tension, Obsessive Behaviour (no literally), Jealousy if you squint, Park Wonbin Cameo.

Synopsis: You’ve just discovered you're the daughter of Athena, goddess of wisdom, and now you’re at Camp Half-Blood. You struggle to survive—but now Ni-ki, son of Hades seems to have taken an interest in you.

a/n: already done harry potter, why not try out percy jackson as well? i dont expect this to do good tbh..

--

You were a daughter of Athena, goddess of wisdom and strategy. It was a truth you had only recently learned, and not in the way you might have expected. Your father—distant, aloof, and perpetually overworked—had dropped the bombshell on you like it was just another item on his to-do list. For years, he had told you that your mother had died in childbirth, a tragic story you’d grown up swallowing whole. But then, out of nowhere, he decided it was time you knew the truth.

At first, you didn’t believe him. Who would? The idea of being the child of a literal goddess sounded absurd, like something out of one of those cheesy fantasy movies you used to watch. But your dad wouldn’t let you argue. He brushed off your questions with the same detached efficiency he used for everything else and, before you knew it, you were being shoved into the backseat of a car with a suitcase in one hand and a head full of unanswered questions.

That’s how you ended up here: a camp in the middle of the woods with a wooden sign swinging gently in the breeze. You tilted your head to read it, the letters etched deep into the grain: Camp Half-Blood.

"Right," you muttered to yourself. "Because Camp Mythological Heritage would’ve been too on the nose."

Still, there was no turning back now. With a shrug, you stepped past the entrance and into a world that felt like something out of a fever dream. Kids your age—and younger—were scattered across the campgrounds, each of them doing something more insane than the last. One kid was scaling a rock wall that was on fire, while another sparred with a partner using what looked like actual swords. Over by the lake, a group of campers were... were those horses? No, centaurs. Actual centaurs.

You stood frozen, your mouth slightly ajar. It was like stepping into a fantasy novel. Or a madhouse. You hadn’t decided which one yet.

“Well,” you muttered to yourself, “this is either going to be the best thing that ever happened to me... or the absolute worst.”

You made your way toward the center of the camp, still trying to process the sheer chaos unfolding around you. Everyone seemed so... at home here. But you, well, you felt like an outsider. Your entire life had been one thing, and now it was completely turned upside down. As you walked, you tried to ignore the tiny pit of unease growing in your stomach. This wasn’t what you had imagined. Then again, you hadn’t imagined much of anything.

Before you could spiral too much, a voice broke through your thoughts. "You must be the daughter of Athena," it said, smooth and calm, yet somehow with a touch of familiarity, as if it had known you your whole life.

You blinked up at the speaker, startled. Standing before you was a centaur—half man, half horse—his chest broad and dignified, and his eyes sharp, like he could see right through you. He was somehow... kind. A strange contrast to the world you had just walked into.

“Welcome,” he continued, extending a hand that you shook uncertainly. “I’m Chiron. I know this must be overwhelming, but we’re here to help.”

You raised an eyebrow. "Chiron? Like, the Chiron from Greek mythology?"

"That would be me," he said with a small chuckle. "But I’ve been around for a long time, you'll find the name a bit more casual in a place like this."

You blinked again, not sure how to react. This wasn’t the kind of welcome you had expected, but then again, nothing about this situation was what you’d imagined.

As Chiron began to explain the camp, his words flowed with an ease that made everything sound... normal. Like discovering you were the child of a goddess wasn’t as monumental as it seemed. He explained the demigod life with a sense of nonchalance, detailing the training you’d undergo. Everything had a rhythm to it, like a battle plan carefully constructed and laid out.

"Your mother, Athena," he said, his gaze softening for a moment, "she's one of the most revered of the Olympian gods. Intelligence, strategy, wisdom—they all run through her blood, and now, through yours."

You had to hold back a sigh. You’d heard about your mother’s legacy, but it felt distant, like a story told to you by someone who didn’t quite know the ending. Chiron, however, spoke like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"And here," he gestured grandly, "is where you’ll be staying."

You followed his gaze to a modest cabin that seemed to exude an aura of quiet authority. It was simple, yet elegant in its design, with the unmistakable feeling that it had been built for both function and beauty.

“This is the Athena cabin,” Chiron said, his voice low, respectful. “It’s where the children of Athena reside. You’ll find it to be a place of study, of strategy. And you’ll find that, like your mother, you will be expected to think and lead carefully.”

You stood before it, still unsure of how you were supposed to feel. "I’m supposed to live here now?" you asked, voice almost too small to be your own.

"Yes," Chiron replied, his smile gentle. “And while it may take some time to get used to, you'll find that the family you never knew you had is here. The other daughters of Athena will become your sisters—your allies in this world.”

You nodded, though you couldn’t help the doubts swirling in your mind. Could you really belong here? Could you live up to this legacy, to the expectations of a goddess you barely knew?

“Come,” Chiron said, turning toward the cabin. “Let’s get you settled in. And don’t worry, we’ve all been through this transition. You're not alone.”

The inside of the Athena cabin was everything you expected and more. Rows of bookshelves lined the walls, crammed with texts on strategy, philosophy, mythology, and other subjects you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. The air smelled faintly of parchment and ink, with a touch of something herbal—maybe mint or rosemary. There were maps and blueprints pinned to corkboards, some of them marked with notes in handwriting so precise it could have been printed. A large table dominated the center of the room, strewn with scrolls, chessboards, and what looked like the half-finished plans for a miniature catapult.

Several campers were scattered around the room, their heads bent in concentration. Some were reading, others sketching battle tactics, and a few were locked in intense chess matches. They didn’t look up as you entered, but you could feel their awareness. It was as if they had already sized you up without even glancing your way.

“This is your home now,” Chiron said, his voice low as he gestured around the room. “The children of Athena value intellect, strategy, and wisdom. You’ll find that everyone here has their own strengths, and soon, you’ll discover yours as well.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say. The room was intimidating in a way you couldn’t quite put into words. It wasn’t the weapons or the books or even the aura of focus—it was the expectation. The unspoken weight that came with being Athena’s child.

One of the campers finally looked up, a girl with sharp features and dark hair pulled into a braid. She stood, crossing her arms as she approached. “New kid?” she asked, her tone more curious than unkind. Her eyes seemed to assess you in an instant.

“Yes,” Chiron answered before you could. “This is Athena’s newest appointed daughter.”

The girl’s expression shifted slightly, softening just enough to put you at ease. She extended a hand. “I’m Sophia. Welcome to the Athena cabin.”

You shook her hand, her grip firm but not overwhelming. “Uh, thanks. I’m—”

“Don’t worry,” Sophia interrupted, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “We’ll learn your name soon enough. For now, let’s just focus on getting you settled in.” She turned back to Chiron. “We’ll take it from here.”

Chiron nodded, his expression approving. “Good. I’ll leave you to it, then.” He placed a hand on your shoulder briefly, his presence steadying. “You’re in good hands here. I’ll check in with you later.”

And with that, he left, his hooves clopping softly against the wooden floor as he disappeared out the door.

Sophia turned back to you, her smirk widening. “Well, newbie, let’s get this over with. You’ll be bunking over here.” She led you to a bed near the back of the cabin, neatly made with gray blankets and pillows. A small wooden trunk sat at the foot of it, clearly meant for your belongings. “It’s not much, but you’ll get used to it.”

You set your bag down, glancing around at the other bunks. Everything was organized, almost militaristically so. No stray clothes, no clutter—just a quiet efficiency that made your own messy habits feel glaringly obvious.

Sophia must have noticed your hesitation because she raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry. We don’t bite. Much.” She tilted her head toward the other campers. “Most of us are too busy with our projects to bother anyone. Just don’t touch anyone’s stuff without asking, and you’ll be fine.”

You nodded, sitting on the edge of your bed. “So… what now?”

“Now,” Sophia said, crossing her arms again, “you try to survive. Training starts tomorrow morning, bright and early. Hope you’re ready to learn how to wield a weapon, because monsters won’t care how good you are at chess.”

Your stomach flipped at the mention of monsters, but you tried not to let it show. “Great,” you muttered. “Sounds fun.”

Sophia chuckled, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, newbie. We’ve all been where you are. You’ll find your place soon enough.”

With that, she walked off, leaving you alone to process everything. You lay back on the bed, staring up at the wooden ceiling. The sounds of the camp filtered in through the open windows—laughter, the clang of swords, the steady rhythm of feet pounding the ground.

You exhaled slowly, trying to let the noises outside soothe the storm of thoughts swirling in your mind. It didn’t work. How could it, when the weight of everything that had happened in the past few days pressed down on you like a lead blanket? You were the daughter of a goddess. A literal goddess. How were you supposed to live up to that? You didn’t feel particularly wise or strategic. You felt... normal. Average. Like a fish suddenly thrown into a sea of sharks.

A knock on the doorframe startled you out of your thoughts. You sat up quickly, your heart skipping a beat as you looked toward the entrance. A boy stood there, leaning casually against the frame with his arms crossed. His sandy blonde hair was messy, like he’d just come from sparring, and there was a faint smear of dirt on his cheek. He looked about your age, maybe a little older, with an easy confidence that made you feel even more out of place.

“Hey,” he said, his voice light but curious. “You’re the new Athena kid, huh?”

You nodded slowly, unsure of how to respond. “Uh, yeah. That’s me.”

He grinned, pushing off the doorframe and stepping inside. “Figures. You’ve got that look about you.”

You frowned, tilting your head. “What look?”

“You know,” he said, gesturing vaguely, “all serious and... thinking about ten things at once. Classic Athena kid behavior.”

You weren’t sure if that was a compliment or not. “And you are?”

“Jake,” he said, sticking out a hand. “Son of Apollo.”

You hesitated for half a second before shaking his hand. His grip was firm but friendly, and his smile was disarming. “Nice to meet you, I guess.”

“Guess?” he repeated with a mock pout. “Wow, tough crowd.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little, despite yourself. There was something about him that put you at ease, even if his confidence was a little overwhelming.

“So,” he said, glancing around the cabin before turning back to you, “how’s your first day going? Overwhelmed yet?”

“More like completely lost,” you admitted. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Jake nodded knowingly. “Yeah, that’s pretty normal. Everyone feels like that at first. But don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it. Just... try not to overthink everything. I know it’s, like, in your DNA or whatever, but trust me, this place is way easier to deal with if you just roll with the punches.”

“Right,” you said, not entirely convinced. “Easy for you to say. You’ve probably been here forever.”

“Three years,” he said, shrugging. “But it feels like forever sometimes. You’ll get used to it, though. And if you ever need someone to show you the ropes, I’m your guy.”

Before you could respond, there was a loud clang from outside, followed by a chorus of cheers. Jake glanced toward the window, his grin widening.

“Looks like the sparring matches are heating up,” he said. “You should come watch. It’s a good way to see what you’re up against.”

You hesitated, glancing back at your bed. Part of you wanted to stay there, to retreat into yourself and avoid the chaos outside for just a little longer. But another part of you—smaller, quieter, but undeniably there—wanted to see what this world was really about.

“Alright,” you said finally, standing up. “Lead the way.”

Jake’s grin grew wider, and he gestured for you to follow him. “That’s the spirit. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, newbie. Time to see what you’re made of.”

You stepped out of the cabin, squinting against the sunlight as Jake led the way toward an open training area. The sounds of sparring filled the air—the clash of metal against metal, the thud of bodies hitting the ground, and the occasional shout of victory.

The training ground was a wide, dusty circle surrounded by spectators, most of them campers who were either waiting their turn or simply enjoying the show. In the middle, pairs of campers were locked in combat. Some used swords and shields, while some fought barehanded, relying on strength, agility, and strategy to try and knock each other down.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Jake said, glancing over his shoulder at you.

You nodded, your eyes wide as you took in the scene. “Yeah. Intense, though.”

Jake chuckled. “You get used to it. Let’s introduce you to some of the gang. You’re going to be seeing a lot of these faces, so might as well start remembering names.”

He led you over to a group of campers who were sitting on a bench, watching the matches with keen interest. They turned as you approached, their expressions ranging from curious to welcoming.

“This is Soobin,” Jake said, gesturing to a tall boy with jet-black hair and kind eyes. He offered you a small smile, his voice calm as he spoke. “Son of Apollo.”

You nodded, trying to commit his name and face to memory. “Nice to meet you, Soobin.”

Next, Jake pointed to a girl with short, choppy hair dyed a silvery gray. Her arms were crossed, and she had a confident smirk that told you she didn’t take herself too seriously. “This is Chaewon, daughter of Ares. She’s one of the best fighters here, so don’t get on her bad side.”

Chaewon snorted. “I’m not that scary.” She winked at you. “Unless you’re dumb enough to challenge me, of course.”

You laughed nervously, making a mental note to stay far away from her during sparring sessions.

Jake moved on to a pair of twins who were practically radiating energy. They had identical bright smiles and matching dimples. “These two are Jiwoo and Jiyeon, daughters of Hermes. If anything goes missing, it’s probably their fault.”

“Hey!” Jiyeon protested, though her grin didn’t waver. “We’ve been so well-behaved lately.”

“Relatively,” Jiwoo added with a wink.

You couldn’t help but smile at their playful energy. “Got it. Keep my stuff locked up.”

“Smart girl,” Jiwoo said approvingly.

Jake led you around the rest of the training ground, introducing you to more campers.

There was Minho, son of Hephaestus, a quiet boy with soot-streaked hands and a shy smile who loved to tinker with weapons and gadgets. “If you need a custom weapon or armor, come find me,” he said softly.

Then there was Yeji, daughter of Demeter, who was tending to a small garden on the outskirts of the training area. She wiped her hands on her jeans and smiled warmly. “If camp food gets boring, I can help you find the best fruits and veggies around.”

And finally, Jake introduced you to Seungmin, son of Dionysus, who was leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. “Good luck surviving your first week.”

“Uh, thanks?” you said, not entirely sure if that was encouragement or a warning.

By the time Jake finished the introductions, your head was spinning with names, faces, and parentage. You did your best to commit them all to memory, but you had a feeling it was going to take a while before you got them all straight.

Jake clapped you on the shoulder, grinning. “Not so bad, right? Everyone’s pretty chill once you get to know them.”

“Sure,” you said, though you still felt a little overwhelmed. “But it’s a lot to take in.”

“Trust me, you’ll be fine,” Jake said confidently. He nodded toward the sparring ring. “Now, want to watch a match or two? Or are you feeling brave enough to give it a try yourself?”

You glanced at the campers sparring in the ring, their movements fast and fierce. Part of you wanted to jump in, to prove to yourself that you could handle this new life. But another part wasn’t quite ready.

“I think I’ll stick to watching for now,” you said with a small laugh.

Jake nodded, his grin never fading. “Fair enough. Let’s find a good spot, then. You’re going to want to pay attention—there’s a lot you can learn just from watching.”

Jake led you to a shaded spot under a tree with a perfect view of the sparring ring. He plopped down on the ground, motioning for you to do the same. You settled in beside him, your eyes fixed on the action.

"See that?" Jake nudged you, pointing at one of the fighters. "That’s Hyunjin, son of Aphrodite."

You nodded, watching as Hyunjin disarmed his opponent with a flourish that looked almost effortless.

The match ended with a loud cheer, and you were about to ask Jake a question when the atmosphere in the training ground shifted as someone new stepped into the ring.

He was tall—easily the tallest person you’d seen so far—and carried himself with a quiet confidence that was somehow more intimidating than if he’d been loud and boastful. His dark hair fell just over his sharp eyes, and in his hand, he twirled a sword with the kind of ease that made it look like an extension of his arm.

“Who’s that?” you leaned over and whispered to Jake, unable to tear your eyes away from the newcomer.

Jake followed your gaze and chuckled softly. “That’s Ni-ki,” he said. “Son of Hades. Don’t feel bad if he gives you the chills—he does that to everyone.”

You didn’t respond. You were too focused on Ni-ki as he stepped into the center of the ring, his gaze cool and unbothered as he sized up his opponent. The person across from him was someone you didn’t recognize—a stocky boy who looked strong but not nearly as composed.

The match began, and from the very first move, it was clear that Ni-ki was on a completely different level. He didn’t just fight—he dominated. His movements were precise, calculated, almost lazy in their efficiency. Every swing of his sword, every step he took, was purposeful. It was like he was playing a game of chess, except the pieces were his opponent’s mistakes, and he was three moves ahead the entire time.

You found yourself holding your breath as you watched. The other boy lunged, swinging his weapon with all his might, but Ni-ki sidestepped effortlessly, his expression bored. With a flick of his wrist, he disarmed the boy, sending his weapon skidding across the ground.

The fight ended in seconds. Ni-ki didn’t gloat, didn’t smile—he simply turned and walked away, his sword resting on his shoulder as if it weighed nothing.

The crowd erupted into cheers and murmurs, but you were still frozen in place, your eyes following Ni-ki as he disappeared toward the edge of the training area.

“You okay?” Jake asked, nudging you lightly.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, though your voice felt distant even to your own ears.

Jake smirked knowingly. “Yeah, he has that effect on people. Don’t let him intimidate you too much, though. He’s not as scary as he looks.”

You glanced at Jake, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Okay, maybe he is,” Jake admitted with a laugh. “But he’s not all bad. He’s just... intense.”

Intense. That felt like an understatement. You looked back toward where Ni-ki had gone, half expecting him to be watching from the shadows. But he was gone, leaving you with a strange, lingering curiosity that you couldn’t quite shake.

As the sparring matches wound down, you decided to take the chance to explore more of the camp. There was so much to take in—the cabins, the armory, the various training areas—it all felt like a strange blend of summer camp and battlefield.

You were just passing by the archery range when something zipped by your head, close enough that you felt the breeze as it passed. You yelped, instinctively ducking as the arrow thudded into a target a few feet away.

“Oh my gods, I’m so sorry!” a voice called out.

You turned toward the source of the voice, your heart still racing, and froze. The guy jogging toward you was... well, there was no other way to put it: stunning. He had soft, wavy hair that caught the sunlight just right, warm brown eyes, and a jawline that looked like it had been carved by one of the gods themselves. Was everyone here this ridiculously attractive?

“Uh, it’s okay,” you managed to say, brushing off the shock. “I dodged in time.”

He let out a huff of relief, running a hand through his hair. “Phew. For a second there, I thought I’d actually hit you. That would’ve been one heck of a first impression.”

You laughed nervously, trying not to stare too hard. “Yeah, not exactly the warmest welcome, but I’ll survive.”

He grinned, his confidence shining through. “Still, almost hitting the newbie? That’s got to be a new low for me.” He extended a hand toward you. “I’m Wonbin, son of Aphrodite. And before you say anything, yes, I’m that good-looking because of my mom. Comes with the territory.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his candor as you shook his hand. “I’m Y/N. Daughter of Athena.”

“Ah, an Athena kid,” he said, his grin turning into a smirk. “Figures. You’ve got that sharp, calculating look in your eyes. Kind of intimidating, actually.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Intimidating? Me? You’re the one firing arrows at innocent bystanders.”

Wonbin laughed, the sound light and easy. “Fair point. I’ll owe you one for that—free archery lessons, maybe? You know, to keep you from dodging arrows next time.”

You rolled your eyes, but the offer didn’t sound half-bad. “I’ll think about it.”

“Do that,” he said with a wink. “Anyway, I should probably get back to practice before Chiron yells at me again. See you around, newbie.”

As he walked back toward the range, you couldn’t help but shake your head with a smile. If nothing else, Camp Half-Blood was full of... colorful personalities.

--

Your aimless wandering had brought you to the edge of the camp, where the cabins grew more spaced out and quiet. One cabin in particular caught your attention—it was darker than the others, its aura foreboding and unnervingly still. The door was closed, and the windows were tinted, making it impossible to see inside. You tilted your head, curiosity tugging at you as you wondered which camper called this place home.

“You’re pretty far from your cabin.”

The sudden voice made you jump, and you whipped around quickly, heart thudding in your chest.

Oh.

It was Ni-ki.

He stood there like a shadow given form, his dark eyes glinting in the dim light. His expression was unreadable, and he seemed even taller up close—towering over you with an intensity that made you instinctively take a step back.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, his voice low and even, though there was a hint of something in his tone—amusement, maybe? Or just curiosity?

You cleared your throat, hoping he didn’t notice how startled you were. “I, uh… I was just exploring. Didn’t mean to wander this far.”

Ni-ki’s gaze flicked to the dark cabin behind you, and for a moment, his expression softened—just barely. “This isn’t exactly the friendliest part of camp,” he said. “Especially for someone new.”

You glanced back at the cabin, suddenly feeling a little foolish for standing there. “Whose cabin is it?”

“It’s mine,” Ni-ki said simply.

Your eyes widened slightly as you looked back at him. “Yours? Oh.”

He raised an eyebrow at your reaction, crossing his arms over his chest. “What, expecting a skull on the door or something?”

“No,” you said quickly, then hesitated. “Well, maybe.”

Ni-ki huffed a quiet laugh, though it was more like a sharp exhale. “Relax. It’s just a cabin, not the gates of the Underworld.”

You weren’t entirely sure about that, given the eerie vibe the place gave off, but you decided not to push it. “Right. Sorry for… lurking.”

He studied you for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were trying to figure you out. The silence stretched just long enough to feel uncomfortable before he finally spoke again.

“You’re the new Athena kid, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Jake doesn’t shut up,” he said bluntly, though there was the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

You let out a nervous laugh, unsure of how to respond. Ni-ki didn’t seem like the kind of person you could easily read—or impress, for that matter.

“Well,” he said, shifting his weight slightly, “if you’re done wandering, you should probably head back to your cabin. This side of camp isn’t exactly the best place to hang out.”

“Why?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

Ni-ki’s expression darkened, and for a split second, you thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then he stepped closer—just enough to make you aware of how much taller he was—and said quietly, “Let’s just say not everything here is as safe as it looks.”

A chill ran down your spine at his words, and you swallowed hard, nodding. “Got it. Heading back now.”

Ni-ki stepped aside, gesturing for you to go. As you walked past him, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. He was still standing there, watching you with an unreadable expression, the dark cabin looming behind him like a shadow.

Something about him lingered in your mind as you made your way back to your own cabin.

When you pushed open the door to the Athena cabin and paused. Inside, the girls were gathered in a tight circle on the floor, their heads close together, whispering and giggling in a way that seemed almost conspiratorial. Books, notebooks, and even a small chalkboard sat in the middle of the ring, covered in scrawled notes and diagrams.

The moment you stepped in, all eyes turned to you. You froze under their collective gaze, unsure of whether you’d just walked into something secret or sacred.

“What are you doing?” you asked hesitantly, glancing between them.

Sophia, the girl who’d first greeted you when you arrived, smiled and gestured for you to sit beside her. “Come join us. We’re just quizzing each other—it’s kind of a thing we do regularly.”

You hesitated for a moment before shrugging and stepping forward. Sophia shifted to make space for you, and as you sat down, you noticed the mix of curiosity and warmth in the girls’ faces.

“We’ll start a new round for you,” said Haewon, her voice steady but kind. She had a book open in her lap, the pages filled with notes in tiny, precise handwriting. “Do you want to give it a try?”

“Sure,” you said, unsure of what exactly you were getting yourself into but willing to play along.

Ryujin grinned, leaning back on her hands. “Alright, let’s see if the new girl can keep up.”

Yunjin nudged her with a playful glare. “Be nice.”

The first question came from Soyeon, who looked at you with sharp, calculating eyes. “Who was the mother of Perseus?”

Your brain scrambled for the answer, and you barely managed to get it out. “Danaë.”

Soyeon nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Good. Next.”

The questions came rapid-fire after that, bouncing between Greek mythology, mathematical equations, Roman history, and even abstract, theoretical problems.

“What’s the square root of 729?”

“27.”

“Who was the first Roman emperor?”

“Augustus.”

“If a tree falls in the forest and no one’s around to hear it, does it make a sound?”

“…Uh, depends on your definition of ‘sound.’”

The girls laughed at that one, even Leeseo, who had been scribbling furiously in a notebook the entire time.

Every time you got an answer right, you felt a surge of pride, and when you got one wrong, the girls explained it without a hint of judgment.

Sophia leaned over at one point, nudging you with her shoulder. “You’re doing better than I did my first time.”

“Really?” you asked, half-laughing as Haewon fired off another question about theoretical physics.

“Really,” Sophia said with a grin. “You’ll fit right in.”

You had proven it to yourself. You were one of them.

--

The morning light filtered through the trees, as you stood in the training area, still feeling the weight of the armor strapped to your body. It wasn’t much—light armor, a sword, and a shield—but it was enough to make you feel like you were suddenly expected to be someone else, someone capable of defending themselves.

You awkwardly adjusted the straps, wondering just how much of a disaster your first training session would be. You didn’t even know what to do with the sword yet—let alone how to hold the shield properly.

That’s when you felt it—someone’s gaze on you. You turned, and your eyes locked with a guy standing just a few paces away. You recognized him immediately. It was hard not to—he was a son of Ares, and he looked the part. Broad-shouldered, with a sharp, aggressive expression, his dark eyes narrowed as he sized you up, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Are you just going to stand there all day, or are you going to learn how to use that thing?” he called out, his tone sharp, almost challenging.

You straightened up, heart racing. “Uh… I’m not really sure what to do…”

He snorted, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah, I figured. Don’t worry, kid. You’re about to find out.”

Before you could react, he was on you—his movements swift and brutal as he lunged forward, his sword aimed directly at your chest. You barely had time to raise your shield, the force of the blow almost knocking you off your feet.

Your heart pounded in your ears, and for a moment, you wondered if you should just give up—if maybe you weren’t cut out for this. But then, a quiet voice in the back of your mind reminded you who your mother was. Athena. Goddess of wisdom and strategy. You weren’t just any camper here. You had the blood of a warrior in you, even if it felt distant.

“Focus,” you whispered to yourself, trying to steady your breathing.

The son of Ares swung again, but this time you were ready. You sidestepped, your body moving almost instinctively as your shield blocked the next attack. You could feel the heat from his strikes, the raw power behind each one.

“Not bad,” he grunted, clearly surprised by your ability to dodge. “But don’t just block—counterattack!”

Counterattack. You barely had time to think before another strike came at you, but this time, your instincts took over. You shifted, raising your sword and parrying his strike. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to push him off balance. You swung back, though he easily blocked it with his own shield.

This continued for a few more rounds, the fight becoming more of a dance between the two of you, until you found yourself growing more comfortable, your movements becoming sharper and more deliberate. The son of Ares didn’t give you an inch, but you were beginning to see the patterns in his strikes—predicting where his next attack would come from, even as your breath grew heavier.

You didn’t win the sparring match—he was still faster, stronger, and more experienced—but by the time it ended, you felt greatful to be alive.

“Not bad for a newbie,” the son of Ares said, stepping back and giving you a nod of approval. “You’ve got some guts.”

You wiped the sweat from your brow, your heart still racing. “I... I didn’t think I could do that.”

He gave you a look that was almost approving, though his face still carried that rough edge. “You’re a daughter of Athena, right? You should’ve known you had it in you.”

You nodded, though doubt still lingered in the back of your mind. Were you really your mother’s daughter? Sure, you’d dodged and blocked the attacks, but did that make you a true warrior?

The son of Ares turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your sword in hand and your shield still raised, as the sounds of camp life continued around you.

Just as you were trying to catch your breath, still processing the son of Ares’ brutal training session, you heard a voice—a familiar, mocking tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Well, well, looks like you’re still standing,” Ni-ki said, his voice smooth and teasing.

You looked up, and there he was. He was dressed in light armor like you, a sword and shield strapped to his side, his posture relaxed as he twirled his sword in his hand, almost as if he were showing off. The corner of his lips curled into a smirk as he locked eyes with you.

“What? You’re gonna just stand there?” Ni-ki teased, his tone light but laced with challenge.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could even form a sentence, Ni-ki moved.

His sword came down fast and hard, the sharp clang of metal on metal ringing through the air as you barely managed to raise your shield in time to deflect the blow. Your heart raced, your hands still shaky from the last sparring session, and now here he was—moving with a confidence and skill that was hard to match.

“Come on, I thought Athena’s kids were supposed to be smarter than this,” Ni-ki called out, his voice laced with amusement as he swung again. You had no choice but to dodge, the blade narrowly missing your side.

His attacks came rapid-fire, each one pushing you to the edge. It was like he was anticipating every move you made. You were barely keeping up, forced to sidestep and block with everything you had. He kept moving, his footwork impeccable as he darted around you, only giving you brief moments to catch your breath.

“Come on, you’re not still getting outclassed, are you?” Ni-ki called, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he swung again. You could feel the heat of the sword as it sliced through the air.

Frustration burned in your chest. You couldn’t keep dodging forever.

Without hesitation, you swung your sword at him, a wild, almost desperate strike aimed at his torso.

Ni-ki parried the blow effortlessly, deflecting it with a flick of his wrist. Then, he stopped and actually clapped.

“Well, at least you’re trying now,” he said, his smirk widening.

You froze for a moment, bewildered by his nonchalant attitude. Before you could process, he vanished.

One second he was in front of you, and the next—he was behind you. You didn’t even have time to react before you felt the lightest push to your back, and you were sent tumbling to the ground.

You gasped, staring up at Ni-ki as he stood over you. “What… what was that?”

Ni-ki simply raised an eyebrow, his gaze cool and almost bored. “That? Oh, just a little trick I picked up from my dad.”

Your mind raced, trying to comprehend what had just happened. “A trick?” you asked, still on the ground, trying to push yourself up.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice casual. “It’s an ability. Using shadows to teleport short distances, just like that.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. Teleporting? From his father, Hades? It was the kind of power you’d only heard about in stories, something that seemed impossible to even imagine.

“Right…” you muttered, still on the ground, looking up at him in a mix of awe and frustration.

Ni-ki simply shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Not bad, though. You’ll catch up eventually. If you don’t want to end up on the floor every time.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked off, leaving you sitting there in the dirt, your sword and shield at your side. You could feel the sting of both your physical exhaustion and your bruised pride.

He made it look so easy—effortless.

You stood up, brushing off the dirt from your armor with a frustrated sigh, your fingers lingering on the spots where the ground had scraped your skin. You were still catching your breath, but it was clear—combat wasn’t going to be your immediate strong suit, not like it was for some of the others.

“Yeah, I may have a long way to go with combat,” you muttered under your breath, “but there’s still other stuff I’m good at.”

That thought pushed you forward, and soon you were walking toward the archery range, a small glimmer of determination lighting the way. The bow had always felt more natural to you than the sword and shield, even before you knew about your mother.

The sound of arrows hitting targets echoed through the area as you arrived. The archery range was lined with targets, some already peppered with arrows, others waiting for their turn. A few campers were already practicing, some with impressive skill, others just beginning to find their rhythm.

You walked to one of the nearby racks, grabbing a bow and quiver of arrows. It was lighter than you remembered, but sturdy in your hands. You took a moment to steady yourself, feeling the familiar grip, testing the tension in your fingers.

"Mind if I join?" you asked, glancing at the nearest archer—a tall, lean girl with long black hair who was effortlessly nailing the bullseye on her target.

She turned to you, her eyes scanning your form before giving a small nod. “Sure, go ahead.”

You didn’t say anything more. You simply nocked an arrow, drew it back, and aimed. Your focus sharpened, everything around you fading away as you lined up your shot. A deep breath, and then you released the arrow.

It flew true, hitting the target dead center.

The girl raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. “Okay, I admit it. You’ve got skill.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. It wasn’t combat, but this—that felt like something you could excel at.

“Thanks,” you said, adjusting your stance and preparing for another shot. “I’ve always been better with a bow.”

You didn’t have the strength or speed that the others seemed to carry so naturally, but this was something you could control, something that felt more like you.

For a while, you just kept shooting, blocking out everything except the pull of the string, the release, and the thrill of hitting your target. It was grounding, in a way.

After a few more rounds, the girl who had been watching you approached again. She was still eyeing your shots, but this time with more interest.

“You’ve got good instincts,” she said, a hint of respect in her voice. “I’m Emily, daughter of Ares.”

You smiled at her, setting down the bow for a moment. “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N. Daughter of Athena.”

Seoyeon nodded. “I can see that. You definitely have the focus of your mom.”

You didn’t know if it was a compliment or just an observation, but it felt like the first time someone actually saw the connection between you and Athena in a positive way.

“Thanks,” you said again, feeling a sense of pride. Maybe you still had a lot to prove, but you were starting to see the things you were good at.

A few days passed, and you’d settled into a routine at Camp Half-Blood. Though you weren’t great with a sword yet, you’d at least stopped embarrassing yourself entirely.

One morning, while heading back from the archery range, you spotted a familiar face lounging near the stables. Wonbin. He wasn’t holding a bow this time, nor was he causing chaos by almost hitting you with an arrow. Instead, he was leaning against a post, his arms crossed casually as he watched a group of campers walk by.

You hesitated for a moment before walking over, unsure of what to expect.

"Still dodging arrows, or have you gotten better?" he teased as you approached, a playful grin spreading across his face.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m not dodging anything anymore. And, for the record, I’m actually pretty good with a bow.”

“Oh, I know. I saw you at the range yesterday,” he said, surprising you. “Not bad for a newbie.”

“Wow, high praise coming from you,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

Wonbin laughed, the sound light and easy, and for a moment, you realized just how relaxed he seemed compared to some of the other campers.

“You’re fun to mess with, you know,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “But I’m not just here to tease you. You looked a little stiff when you were sparring the other day. Want some help?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “You want to help me?”

“Why not? Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t embarrass yourself in front of everyone,” he said with a wink. “Besides, I’m a great teacher.”

You snorted but nodded. “Alright, fine. Show me what you’ve got.”

The two of you made your way to the training grounds, where it was surprisingly quiet for the time of day. Wonbin handed you a wooden training sword, the weight of it familiar but still slightly awkward in your hand.

“Okay, first things first,” Wonbin said, stepping in front of you. “Stop gripping it like it’s a lifeline. You’re not strangling the sword. Loosen up a bit.”

You adjusted your grip, and he nodded in approval.

“Good. Now, let’s see how you move.”

He took you through a few basic drills, correcting your stance and showing you how to shift your weight when you swung. Unlike the other demigods, Wonbin was patient. He didn’t push too hard or make you feel like you were failing every time you messed up. Instead, he laughed when you tripped over your own feet and offered encouragement when you got it right.

“You’re getting there,” he said after a particularly decent swing. “But you’re thinking too much. Stop trying to overanalyze every move.”

“Thinking is kind of my thing,” you muttered, adjusting your stance again.

“Well, turn it off for a bit. Just feel the movement. Trust me, it’ll click eventually.”

And to your surprise, it did start to click. Slowly but surely, the awkwardness of holding a sword began to fade, replaced by a sense of control you hadn’t felt before.

“You’re actually pretty good at this,” you admitted after a while, lowering your sword to wipe the sweat from your brow.

“Told you I’m a great teacher,” Wonbin said with a smirk. “But you’re not bad yourself. You’ve got potential. Just stop overthinking.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Easier said than done.”

The two of you sat down for a break, and you found yourself relaxing in his company. Wonbin was suprisingly easy to talk to.

“You know,” you said after a moment, “you’re actually kind of fun to be around. When you’re not shooting arrows at me, I mean.”

Wonbin grinned, leaning back on his hands. “I’ll take that as a compliment. And, for the record, I wasn’t trying to hit you. Just keeping you on your toes.”

“Sure you were,” you said, rolling your eyes.

While laughing at one of Wonbin’s jokes, you suddenly felt a strange sensation, like the weight of someone’s gaze on you. It was sharp, unrelenting, and impossible to ignore. You turned your head, scanning the area, and that’s when your eyes locked onto him.

Ni-ki.

He was leaning casually against a tree not far from the training grounds, an apple in one hand as he bit into it with an air of complete indifference. But his eyes told a different story. He wasn’t just looking at you; he was staring.

For a moment, you froze, caught in his intense gaze. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in the way he was watching you that made your stomach flip.

“Uh, hello?” Wonbin’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You still with me, or did you just see a ghost?”

You blinked, tearing your eyes away from Ni-ki to look back at Wonbin. “What? No, I’m fine. Just… thought I saw something.”

Wonbin followed your gaze and immediately caught sight of Ni-ki. He let out a low whistle. “Ohhh, I see. Tall, dark, and broody over there, huh? That’s Ni-ki for you. Likes to stare people down for no reason. Don’t let him get to you.”

“I’m not letting him get to me,” you said quickly, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.

Wonbin grinned, clearly amused. “Sure, sure. Just saying, he’s got that whole mysterious bad boy thing going on, doesn’t he? It’s kind of his signature.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool, but your curiosity was already piqued. Without realizing it, your gaze drifted back to Ni-ki.

This time, he smirked. Just the faintest twitch of his lips, but it was there, and it made your heart skip a beat. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Wonbin caught the exchange and snorted. “Oh, this is gonna be interesting. You two haven’t even talked yet, have you?”

“Not really,” you admitted, feeling a little self-conscious.

“Well, you better get used to it,” Wonbin said, leaning back on his hands. “Ni-ki doesn’t just stare at people for fun. If he’s looking at you like that, he’s either curious or he’s decided you’re worth messing with. Either way, good luck.”

You swallowed hard, stealing one last glance at Ni-ki before turning your attention back to Wonbin.

“Yeah, thanks,” you muttered, trying to shake the strange mix of nerves and intrigue Ni-ki had sparked in you.

You found yourself staring back at Ni-ki, unable to stop. His gaze was unwavering, sharp, and entirely unapologetic. There was a challenge in it, though you couldn’t tell what kind. Instead of looking away, you tilted your head slightly, trying to match his intensity, as if silently asking, What? What do you want?

Ni-ki took another bite of his apple, his eyes never leaving yours. That smirk tugged at his lips again, subtle but undeniably there, like he found your silent defiance amusing.

Meanwhile, Wonbin was still talking. Something about strategy, sparring tips, or maybe camp gossip—you weren’t really sure. His voice had faded into the background, your attention too firmly locked on Ni-ki.

“...and that’s why you never spar with a son of Hermes if they’re smiling,” Wonbin said with a laugh, nudging your arm lightly. “You listening?”

“Mm-hmm,” you mumbled, not breaking eye contact with Ni-ki.

Wonbin followed your line of sight and let out a low chuckle. “You’re still looking at him? Wow, he’s really got you hooked, huh?”

That snapped you out of it. You turned back to Wonbin, your cheeks heating up. “I’m not—! I was just—!”

Wonbin grinned, cutting you off with a knowing look. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. But seriously, if you’re gonna have a staring contest with Ni-ki, you better prepare to lose."

You glanced back toward the tree, but Ni-ki was no longer leaning there. He had disappeared, as silently as he’d been watching you, leaving nothing behind but the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze.

“See? Creepy, right?” Wonbin said, shaking his head. “He’s like a shadow.”

You frowned, a mix of confusion and curiosity bubbling in your chest. “He’s… something, alright.”

Wonbin laughed and stood, brushing dirt off his pants. “Come on. If you keep thinking about him, you’ll drive yourself crazy. Let’s hit the dining pavilion before lunch is gone.”

You followed him, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Ni-ki. There was something about him, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

--

You swore life had a vendetta or something against you. Beacuse no matter where you went, no matter how much you tried to focus on your surroundings, he was there.

It wasn’t just his presence that was getting to you—it was how he lived in your head now, too. Every time your mind wandered, it seemed to settle on him.

Ni-ki, leaning against a tree.

Ni-ki, passing by with that ever-present smirk.

Ni-ki, sparring in the distance and throwing a glance your way like he knew you’d been watching.

It was irritating, frustrating, and honestly a little confusing. You didn’t even know the guy, but somehow, he’d gotten under your skin.

Finally, you decided you needed to clear your head. Without telling anyone, you set off on a walk, leaving the noisy heart of camp behind. The greenery stretched out around you, tall trees swaying gently in the breeze. It was quiet here, save for the rustling of leaves and the occasional birdcall.

You didn’t have a destination in mind, nor did you need one. All you wanted was space to breathe, to think without distractions, without Ni-ki lurking in your peripheral vision.

The further you walked, the more you began to relax. The sunlight filtering through the leaves painted dappled patterns on the ground, and the earthy smell of the forest calmed your racing thoughts.

You found yourself stopping by a small clearing, where the grass was soft and the air felt lighter. Sitting down, you let out a long sigh, letting yourself unwind. For the first time in days, your mind felt quiet.

But of course, the peace didn’t last.

“Running away from something?”

The voice was low, smooth, and instantly recognizable. Your eyes shot open, and sure enough, there he was—Ni-ki, standing at the edge of the clearing, hands tucked casually into his pockets.

You groaned, throwing your head back. “Seriously? Do you just appear everywhere, or do you follow me on purpose?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Why would I follow you? You’re the one who always looks at me.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you scrambled to your feet. “I do not always look at you!”

Ni-ki stepped closer, the smirk on his face growing. “You sure about that?”

“Yes!” you snapped, though the heat in your face betrayed you.

For a moment, he said nothing, just studying you with that unreadable expression of his. Then, he shrugged. “If you say so.”

“Why are you even here?” you asked, crossing your arms. “Don’t you have someone else to bother?”

Ni-ki shrugged, the corner of his mouth curling up in that signature smirk. “Probably. But where’s the fun in that?”

He started walking, slow and deliberate, circling around you like a predator sizing up its prey. His steps were light, almost lazy, but his eyes—sharp and dark—never left yours.

“You make it too easy,” he continued, his tone teasing. “The way you get all flustered? Kind of entertaining.”

Your arms tightened over your chest as you turned to keep him in your line of sight. “I’m not flustered.”

He stopped just behind you, leaning in slightly. “You sure about that?”

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as his voice dropped lower, teasing and amused. You spun around to face him, trying to hold your ground.

“Yes, I’m sure!” you snapped, glaring at him.

Ni-ki raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Alright, if you say so.” He resumed his slow pacing, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. “But, you know, you’re kind of fun to mess with.”

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. “Why me, though? There are literally dozens of other people you could annoy.”

“True,” he said, tilting his head as if he were considering it. “But they’re boring. You’re… different.”

���Different how?” you demanded, narrowing your eyes at him.

He stopped in front of you, leaning slightly to meet your gaze. “I haven’t figured that out yet,” he said, his voice soft but still laced with that infuriating teasing edge. “But I will.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he stepped back, cutting you off before you could speak.

“Anyway,” he said casually, stretching his arms over his head, “don’t let me stop you from enjoying your little walk.”

He turned to leave, but just as he passed by, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “Try not to miss me too much.”

Your jaw dropped, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “Miss you? I—”

But Ni-ki was already walking away, his soft laughter trailing behind him as he disappeared into the trees.

You stood there, fists clenched at your sides, your face burning with frustration. “Unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath, walking away while muttering a string of complaints that only the trees around you could hear. “Unbelievable. Who does he think he is? ‘Try not to miss me too much.’ Ugh, I’ll show him who’s missing who.” You kicked at a stray rock on the path, watching it skitter off into the grass.

Your footsteps were heavier now, fueled by frustration, and your face was still hot from the way Ni-ki had managed to get under your skin again. It wasn’t just his teasing; it was how effortlessly he seemed to read you, like he knew exactly which buttons to press to rile you up.

“Stupid smirk. Stupid comments. Stupid Ni-ki,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t realize you were stomping deeper into the forest until the sound of laughter and chatter from camp faded into the distance.

You stopped, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. The forest around you was quiet and peaceful, the sunlight filtering softly through the trees. It was supposed to help, but instead, your mind kept replaying the look on his face—the way his smirk seemed permanently etched there, like he knew he’d won whatever game he thought you were playing.

You let out a frustrated groan and plopped down on a mossy rock. “Why does he even care?” you muttered, staring at the ground. “Why can’t he just leave me alone?”

The forest offered no answers, just the distant rustle of leaves in the breeze. You stayed there for a moment, trying to push thoughts of Ni-ki out of your head. But of course, it was easier said than done.

After a while, you sighed and stood up, brushing the dirt off your clothes. “Fine. Whatever. Let him play his little games,” you said, mostly to yourself. “I’ve got better things to do than worry about him.”

With that, you turned back toward camp, determined to focus on literally anything other than Ni-ki. But as you walked, you couldn’t help but feel like this wasn’t the last time he’d find a way to cross your path—and your thoughts.

And you stuck to your decision. You ignored Ni-ki completely, refusing to give him even a shred of your attention. No glances, no responses, no reactions. If he was leaning against a tree in your line of sight, you’d look the other way. If he passed by during training, you’d keep your eyes locked on your target. If he tried to make one of his smug comments, you’d act like he wasn’t even there.

It wasn’t easy—he had a way of commanding attention whether you wanted to give it to him or not—but you were determined to win this silent battle.

But of course, Ni-ki figured out your plan quickly.

And now? Now he seemed more determined than ever to get under your skin.

“Awfully quiet today, aren’t you?” he’d say as he casually strolled by during your sword training, his voice laced with amusement.

You’d grit your teeth and keep practicing, ignoring him completely.

“Oh, come on, are we doing the whole ‘silent treatment’ thing now?” he teased another time, walking alongside you as you headed to the dining pavilion.

You didn’t even glance at him, speeding up your steps instead. He just chuckled, easily matching your pace.

And the more you ignored him, the harder he tried.

He’d pop up in the middle of your archery sessions, leaning casually against a tree just within your peripheral vision. He never said anything, just stood there with that maddening smirk, watching you until you missed a shot.

“Looks like you’re distracted,” he’d comment, his tone smug.

Still, you wouldn’t take the bait.

But Ni-ki didn’t give up.

One afternoon, during a strategy session with your cabinmates, you were deep in thought, discussing battle plans with Sophia when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“I bet I could come up with something better,” Ni-ki said casually.

You tensed but kept your eyes on the map in front of you.

Sophia glanced between the two of you, her brows raised. “Uh… should we be concerned about this?”

“No,” you replied firmly, not even turning around.

Ni-ki leaned closer, his presence annoyingly obvious even though you refused to look at him. “Really? You’re just going to ignore me like that?”

“Yes,” you snapped before you could stop yourself.

Damn it.

Ni-ki straightened up, a victorious grin spreading across his face. “Ah, there you are. I was starting to think I’d lost my touch.”

You glared at him now, your resolve cracking. “What do you want, Ni-ki?”

He shrugged, his grin never fading. “Nothing, really. Just nice to know you’re still paying attention.”

You groaned and turned back to the map, pointedly ignoring his laughter as he walked away.

--

From the moment Ni-ki first laid eyes on you, something inside him shifted—something he didn’t recognize, didn’t fully understand, but couldn’t ignore. You were standing there, looking so out of place in your awkwardness, clutching a sword and shield like you had no idea what to do with them. You didn’t seem particularly strong, or fast, or even confident. And yet, he couldn’t stop staring.

It wasn’t just the way you looked—though that certainly didn’t hurt. There was something about your presence, something about the way you held yourself, even when you were nervous and uncertain. You didn’t cower, didn’t shrink away. You were stubborn in a way that amused and intrigued him.

Ni-ki had never believed in love at first sight. His father made it very clear that love—real love—was a dangerous thing, a distraction at best, a weakness at worst. But this? Whatever this was? It wasn’t weakness.

It was craving.

The kind of craving that gnawed at him, that made his chest tighten and his mind race. He wanted you, needed you, and it wasn’t just physical—though that was certainly part of it. It was deeper than that, more consuming. He wanted to know you, to unravel every layer of who you were, to understand what made you tick.

And he wanted to own you.

Not in a controlling, possessive way (or maybe it was, a little), but in the way that he wanted you to think of him the same way he thought of you. He wanted to occupy your every thought, to haunt your dreams and distract you during the day.

The rational part of him—the part that listened to his father’s warnings and tried to follow the unspoken rules—knew he shouldn’t feel this way. It was dangerous. Relationships between demigods were complicated enough, and this? This felt like it had the potential to destroy him.

But Ni-ki didn’t care.

Screw his father’s advice. Screw the rules. He’d never cared much for them anyway. All that mattered was you.

At first, he tried to keep his distance, watching from afar as you stumbled your way through camp life. He thought he could resist it, thought he could just… observe. But that only made it worse. The more he saw you—the way you laughed with others, the determined furrow of your brow during training, the moments when you thought no one was looking and let your guard down—the more he wanted you.

No, not wanted. Needed.

So he started testing you. Little things, at first. A teasing comment here, a smirk there, just to see how you’d react. And when you fired back, when you glared at him with that spark of defiance in your eyes, it only made him want you more.

You didn’t shy away from him like others did. You didn’t try to impress him or avoid him. You stood your ground, even when you were clearly annoyed—or flustered.

That was when he knew he was done for.

Was it love? Infatuation? Obsession? Ni-ki didn’t know, and he didn’t care to figure it out. All he knew was that you consumed him, and no amount of time or distance seemed to lessen the pull you had on him.

He couldn’t help it. You were the challenge he couldn’t resist, the flame he couldn’t stop himself from chasing.

And one way or another, he was going to have you. Even if it meant burning himself in the process.

--

You hadn’t really delved much into Greek mythology before. Sure, you’d heard the basics—Zeus, Hera, Poseidon—but the details? The stories? All the little quirks and scandals of the gods? None of that had ever crossed your radar. But now, you decided it was better late than never.

So, you borrowed—or, well, stole—a few books from one of your half-sisters. She probably wouldn’t miss them for a while anyway. Clutching the worn leather covers to your chest, you found a quiet place by the water, a spot where the trees cast long shadows and the sound of the camp faded into the background.

Settling down on a smooth rock, you cracked open the first book, its pages yellowed and filled with ornate text. As you began reading, the stories unfolded like vivid dreams in your mind. The gods were… messy, to put it lightly. Petty, dramatic, and surprisingly human for beings who supposedly ruled the cosmos.

It was fascinating, though. Each page gave you a little more insight into the world you were now a part of—the powers at play, the legacy you carried. You lingered on the pages about Athena, your mother. The goddess of wisdom, strategy, and war.

You ran a finger over an illustration of her, dressed in shining armor, an owl perched on her shoulder. It was hard to believe you had any connection to her. She seemed so… perfect. So otherworldly. How could someone like that have a daughter like you?

Lost in thought, you barely noticed the sound of footsteps behind you until a shadow fell over the pages of your book.

"Stealing books now? You’re full of surprises," a familiar voice drawled.

You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Ni-ki,” you sighed, your tone flat. “What do you want?”

He crouched beside you, his sword dangling lazily from his belt, an apple in his hand—again. He took a bite and chewed slowly, like he had all the time in the world.

“Just curious,” he said, tilting his head to look at the book in your lap. “Ah, some light reading i see?”

You ignored him, turning the page and pretending to focus on the words in front of you. But you could feel his eyes on you, studying you like you were some kind of puzzle he was determined to solve.

After a moment of silence, he leaned closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “So, what are you reading about? Your mom?”

You gave him a sideways glance. “What’s it to you?”

He shrugged, taking another bite of his apple. “Just wondering if you’re finally starting to take this whole ‘demigod’ thing seriously.”

“I’ve always taken it seriously,” you shot back.

“Sure,” he said, his smirk widening. “That’s why you’re hiding out here instead of training.”

You snapped the book shut and turned to glare at him. “Do you ever get tired of bothering me?”

Ni-ki leaned back on his heels, his grin never fading. “Not really. You make it fun.”

You were about to turn and fire off a snarky comeback, something sharp to wipe that smug grin off his face, but the words got caught in your throat the moment you saw how close he was to you now.

When did he get so close?

Ni-ki had been leaning back a second ago, but now he was right there, barely a breath away. You could see the faint scar on his jawline, the sharp curve of his cheekbones, the way his dark eyes seemed to glint with something unreadable. It wasn’t just the physical proximity that unsettled you—it was the way he was looking at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

Your body stiffened, unsure whether to step back or hold your ground, but your body refused to move. You told yourself it was irritation, frustration with his endless teasing, but deep down, you weren’t so sure.

“Cat got your tongue?” Ni-ki asked softly, his voice low and teasing, but it didn’t carry the same playful edge as before. His gaze flicked to your lips for the briefest of moments before meeting your eyes again, his expression unreadable.

You blinked, finally snapping out of whatever strange trance you’d fallen into. “What—what are you doing?” you managed to ask, though your voice came out quieter than you’d intended.

Ni-ki tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth curving into that maddening smirk. “Just wondering what it’d take to finally shut you up,” he murmured, his tone light but carrying an underlying intensity that made your stomach flip.

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but the words died on your tongue when a voice interrupted from behind.

“Hey, uh… am I interrupting something?”

Both you and Ni-ki turned at the same time, and there stood Wonbin, looking between the two of you with a slightly raised eyebrow. His expression was casual enough, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes as he took in the scene.

He didn’t linger on Ni-ki for long, though. His gaze settled on you, softening as he asked, “Do you want to grab something to eat? I was just heading to the pavilion, and, well… figured I’d ask if you wanted to come along.”

His voice held a hopeful edge, and you didn’t even hesitate.

“Yes!” you said, a little too quickly. You scrambled to your feet, brushing off the dirt and leaves. “Absolutely, I’m starving.”

Ni-ki raised an eyebrow, his smirk twitching as if he were trying to stifle a laugh. “Starving, huh?” he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement.

You shot him a glare but didn’t dignify him with a response. Instead, you walked over to Wonbin, grabbed his arm, and practically dragged him away before Ni-ki could say anything else.

“Let’s go,” you said, your voice a little sharper than intended as you pulled Wonbin toward the direction of the dining pavilion.

As you walked away, you could feel Ni-ki’s gaze burning into your back. You refused to look over your shoulder, but you didn’t have to. You could already picture the smug expression on his face, and it only made you grip Wonbin’s arm tighter.

Wonbin glanced down at you, a little surprised but clearly pleased. “Wow, I didn’t think you’d say yes that fast,” he said with a small chuckle. “Guess you were hungrier than I thought.”

You managed a smile, though your mind was still racing from the tension you’d just escaped. “Yeah, something like that,” you muttered, trying to shake off the lingering heat in your cheeks.

Wonbin didn’t press, simply walking beside you and chatting about something light—camp rumors, training schedules, the usual.

--

Ni-ki watched as you walked away, dragging Wonbin by the arm, your laughter drifting faintly on the breeze. It wasn’t loud or directed at him, but it still gnawed at him in a way that made his jaw clench.

Something primal and possessive stirred deep in his chest, demanding he act—run after you, grab your wrist, pull you away from Wonbin, from anyone, and keep you hidden where only he could reach you. The thought sent a dangerous thrill through him. He could do it. He had the power, the determination, the will.

But no. Not yet.

He leaned back against the tree, biting into the apple in his hand to mask the frustration clawing its way to the surface. His dark eyes stayed fixed on your retreating form, lingering on the way your head tilted toward Wonbin as if he deserved your attention, as if he could actually be worth something to you.

The thought was laughable.

Wonbin was nothing. Just another pretty face with a bow in hand. He didn’t know you—not the way Ni-ki did, not the way Ni-ki could. Wonbin didn’t see the sharp wit hidden behind your hesitance, the way your eyes lit up with determination when you put your mind to something, or the rare, fleeting smiles you gave when you thought no one was looking.

Ni-ki saw all of it. He memorized every moment, every word, every glance you spared him, even if it was in irritation. And the more he saw, the more he needed.

No, Wonbin couldn’t make you happy. Not the way Ni-ki could.

Ni-ki’s grip tightened on the apple, the fruit cracking under the pressure of his fingers. He’d go to the Underworld and back for you—literally, if it came to that. It was his realm, after all. His father may have warned him against becoming attached to others, especially demigods, but Ni-ki didn’t care. Whether it was love or infatuation didn’t matter. All he knew was that you belonged to him, and one day, you’d realize it too.

You just needed… a little push.

Ni-ki’s lips curved into a slow, dark smile as he took another bite of the apple, his gaze never leaving the direction you’d gone.

He could wait. He was patient, after all.

But he’d make sure you saw it soon enough. That he was better than any other guy in camp, better than Wonbin, better than anyone who thought they could have a place in your life.

And when that moment came, when you finally saw him for what he truly was—yours—there wouldn’t be anything or anyone that could take you away from him.

Ni-ki stayed by the tree long after you disappeared from view, his fingers idly turning the half-eaten apple over in his hand. His mind raced with thoughts of you, each one tightening the knot of desire and obsession in his chest.

He could picture it so clearly—the moment when you’d finally stop running from him, stop looking at him like he was some bothersome shadow in your life. One day, you’d see him as he saw you. One day, you’d understand that no one else could ever care for you, protect you, love you the way he could.

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax. There was no need to rush. The more you resisted him now, the more satisfying it would be when you eventually gave in.

Ni-ki tilted his head to the side, his dark eyes glinting with quiet determination. He knew what he needed to do.

First, he’d let you play your little game—ignoring him, giving your attention to others like Wonbin. It was amusing in its own way, watching you try to distance yourself from him, as if that would somehow change the pull between you.

Then, when the time was right, he’d push. Not too hard, not enough to scare you, but just enough to remind you who was really worth your time.

And finally? He’d make sure you understood that he wasn’t going anywhere.

It wasn’t just about winning you over. It was about showing you what you were missing—what life with him could be like. He’d keep you safe from everything and everyone that didn’t deserve you, even if that meant disobeying his father to ensure it.

Ni-ki straightened up, tossing the apple core to the ground as a small smirk tugged at his lips.

This wasn’t just about patience anymore. This was about strategy—something his own father had taught him well.

“Enjoy your little moments with Wonbin,” he murmured under his breath, the faintest trace of amusement lacing his voice. “It won’t matter in the end.”

With that, he turned and strode away from the tree, his mind already working on his next move.

You could try to ignore him. You could even try to hate him.

But it didn’t matter. Not to Ni-ki.

He’d seen the way your eyes lingered on him for a fraction too long when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. The way you always seemed to know exactly where he was, even when you claimed you didn’t care. You could tell yourself that you didn’t feel the pull between you, that his presence didn’t affect you, but Ni-ki knew better.

He always knew better.

He didn’t care how long it took, or how many distractions you tried to throw his way—Wonbin included. None of it mattered.

In the end, you’d come to him. You’d have to.

Because Ni-ki wasn’t the kind of person to lose, especially not when it came to something he wanted.

And he wanted you.

--

You were doomed—completely and utterly doomed—from the moment you were born. Your life would’ve been so much easier if your father had just fallen for a regular mortal instead of a literal Greek goddess. You could’ve gone through life oblivious to this whole other world of gods, monsters, and irritatingly attractive demigods. But no. Instead, he had to send you here, to this camp.

And because of that, you got to know Ni-ki.

You tried sticking by Wonbin. He was fun, charming, and easy to be around. He didn’t make your blood boil with irritation or tie your thoughts into knots that you couldn’t untangle, and you appreciated that. You told yourself that staying close to him was the best way to avoid the storm that was Ni-ki.

But it was no use.

No matter where you went, no matter what you did, Ni-ki was always there, lingering on the edges of your mind if not right in front of you. He wasn’t like Wonbin—he didn’t make small talk or try to keep the peace. Ni-ki thrived on chaos, on teasing you, testing you, pushing every button you had until you didn’t know whether you wanted to yell at him or… something else.

It was maddening, frustrating, exhausting.

You caught yourself looking for him more often than you cared to admit, your eyes darting around camp during training sessions or meals. Even when he wasn’t near, you could feel the weight of his presence, like a shadow always lurking just behind you. And when you did see him? The infuriating smirk on his face made your heart race in a way that left you cursing under your breath.

You sighed as you sat by the campfire that evening, staring into the flickering flames. Wonbin was beside you, laughing and chatting with a group of other campers, but his voice faded into the background. Your thoughts were elsewhere—on the dark-haired boy who had somehow managed to weave himself into every corner of your life without your permission.

“Why do you look like you’re plotting murder?” Wonbin asked suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You blinked, turning to look at him. “Huh?”

“You’re glaring at the fire like it insulted your family or something,” he teased, nudging your shoulder.

You forced a laugh, shaking your head. “It’s nothing. Just thinking.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further, thankfully.

Still, your mind refused to settle. You were doomed, all right. Doomed because no matter how hard you tried to ignore Ni-ki, some part of you always ended up being pulled back to him. Like gravity.

And the worst part?

A small, treacherous voice in the back of your mind whispered that maybe you didn’t want to fight it as much as you pretended to.

In fact, it was growing louder with every interaction, every smirk, every time Ni-ki’s dark eyes locked with yours like he could see straight through you. It was infuriating. It was maddening. But it was also… impossible to ignore.

You tried to shake it off, focusing on anything else—Wonbin’s jokes, the camp’s bustling energy, even the endless stream of chores and training drills. But none of it worked. No matter what you did, Ni-ki was there, lingering at the edge of your thoughts like a shadow you couldn’t escape.

You hated it. You hated how much space he took up in your head, how his teasing smirk and smooth voice haunted you even when he wasn’t around.

But what you hated most of all?

The way your heart raced when he was around.

You let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back against the log by the campfire. The flames danced in front of you, but their warmth didn’t do much to ease the chill of confusion and frustration that settled in your chest.

You stood up abruptly, brushing the dirt off your hands. “I’m going to bed,” you mumbled, not really looking at anyone.

Wonbin glanced at you, concerned, but he didn’t say anything as you turned and headed toward the Athena cabin. The night air was cool against your skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the fire. You welcomed it, hoping it might clear your head.

When you pushed open the door to the cabin, you were surprised to find it empty. Normally, your half-sisters were gathered around, quietly reading.

You didn’t think too much about it as you made your way to your bed. Sitting down heavily, you groaned, letting your body relax for the first time all day. The mattress creaked under your weight, and you leaned back, staring up at the wooden ceiling.

Your mind, of course, wouldn’t quiet.

Ni-ki’s face flashed in your thoughts—his smirk, his sharp gaze, the way he always seemed so calm and in control, as if he knew exactly how to get under your skin. You groaned again, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes in frustration.

“What is wrong with me?” you muttered to yourself.

This wasn’t like you. You didn’t let people get to you like this, especially not guys like Ni-ki. He was aggravating, arrogant, and far too sure of himself.

And yet.

Your thoughts drifted back to the moments when his teasing tone softened just slightly, or the way his presence seemed to shift when it was just the two of you. It made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t want to admit.

You sat up abruptly, shaking your head as if that would somehow shake the thoughts loose. “No,” you said firmly, as if declaring it out loud would make it true. “I’m not doing this.”

The next day, you were in the middle of a match, your shield raised and your sword slicing through the air as you managed to disarm your opponent with a clean move. Breathing heavily, you stepped back and lowered your weapon, a small grin tugging at your lips.

Straightening up, you turned to face the group. “Alright,” you said, brushing a hand across your brow. “Who’s next?”

The crowd shifted slightly, and then you saw him.

Ni-ki, standing at the edge of the group, his hand raised lazily as that infuriating smirk spread across his face.

Your stomach sank.

“Me,” he said simply, stepping forward with a casual confidence that made you grit your teeth.

He unsheathed his sword, the metal glinting in the sunlight as he spun it once in his hand, almost lazily. “Don’t look so excited to see me,” he teased, his voice low and taunting.

You groaned audibly, earning a few chuckles from the others watching. “Of course it’s you,” you muttered under your breath, gripping your sword tightly.

Ni-ki’s grin widened as he stopped a few feet in front of you, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sharp. “Ready to show me what you’ve got?”

“Don’t you have anyone else to fight?” you shot back, raising your shield and positioning your sword defensively.

He tilted his head, pretending to think. “Nope,” he said with mock cheerfulness. “You’re my favorite target.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could fire off another retort, Ni-ki lunged. His sword came down fast, and you barely managed to block it with your shield. The force of the blow made your arm ache, but you quickly recovered, stepping to the side and swinging your sword toward him.

Ni-ki parried with ease, his movements fluid and almost effortless. “Not bad,” he said, circling you slowly. “You’ve been practicing.”

“Shut up and fight,” you snapped, aiming a quick thrust toward his side.

He dodged it easily, his smirk never faltering. “Feisty,” he teased, blocking your next strike with his sword. “I like it.”

You groaned in frustration, your swings becoming more aggressive as Ni-ki continued to block and dodge with maddening ease. He wasn’t even trying to land a hit yet—just toying with you, testing you, like a cat playing with its prey.

“Stop holding back!” you shouted, lunging forward with all your strength.

Ni-ki’s eyes flashed, and for a split second, his smirk turned into something more serious. He sidestepped your attack and, with a quick flick of his wrist, knocked your sword out of your hand.

Before you could react, he stepped closer, the tip of his blade resting lightly against your collarbone.

“Looks like I win,” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. His eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away.

Your heart pounded, but whether it was from the fight or the way Ni-ki was looking at you, you couldn’t tell.

“Maybe next time,” he added, stepping back and lowering his sword.

You glared at him, your cheeks burning with a mix of frustration and something you didn’t want to name. “Don’t get used to it,” you muttered, bending down to pick up your weapon.

Ni-ki just chuckled, spinning his sword once before sheathing it. “I’m counting on it.”

--

The day had been long, exhausting even, but despite the ache in your muscles and the overwhelming need for rest, sleep refused to come. You lay in bed, staring at the wooden ceiling of the Athena cabin, your mind swirling with thoughts you couldn’t seem to shut off.

The cabin was quiet, the soft snores of your half-sisters filling the space. You should’ve felt comforted by the familiar surroundings, but instead, you felt restless. Like there was something pulling at you, demanding your attention.

With a frustrated sigh, you sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Maybe some fresh air would help clear your mind. You grabbed a light jacket and slipped out of the cabin as quietly as you could.

The camp was quieter now, most of the other demigods asleep, save for a few shadows moving by the campfire in the distance. You tugged your jacket closer around you and glanced up at the night sky.

The stars twinkled faintly above, scattered across the inky black canvas. You let out a soft sigh, your breath visible in the chill. “If you’re listening, Mom,” you murmured, tilting your head upward, “a little guidance would be nice right about now.”

Of course, there was no response. You didn’t expect one. Still, the act of asking felt oddly comforting, like maybe she was watching, even if she couldn’t answer.

You shook your head, trying to dispel the lingering frustration and confusion from your thoughts. Wandering through camp aimlessly wouldn’t help. You needed to do something. Anything.

Your gaze landed on the training grounds nearby. Rows of weapons were neatly arranged on the racks for the next day’s use, and your hand instinctively reached for a sword. It wasn’t the same one you had used earlier during training, but it felt good in your grip nonetheless.

Without a second thought, you made your way to a clearing a little farther from the cabins, away from prying eyes and the ever-present chatter of the other campers.

You adjusted your stance, gripping the sword tightly as you took a deep breath. Then you started practicing.

It was awkward at first—your swings too wide, your footing unsteady. But you didn’t stop. You moved through the motions you’d been taught, the echoes of Wonbin’s voice guiding you. The weight of the sword felt familiar in your hands now, and the repetition of each movement slowly began to calm your racing thoughts.

Slash. Step. Block. Pivot.

Each strike and parry chipped away at your frustration, leaving behind a faint sense of satisfaction. The rhythmic movements grounded you, a reminder that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as out of place here as you felt.

The clearing was quiet except for the sound of your blade slicing through the air and the occasional rustle of leaves. The stars above seemed to glow a little brighter, as if approving of your effort.

But then, a soft sound broke through your focus—a quiet crunch of leaves behind you.

You froze mid-swing, your heart skipping a beat as you turned around sharply, sword raised defensively.

There, leaning casually against a tree, was Ni-ki. His dark eyes reflected the moonlight, and his ever-present smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Practicing alone?” he drawled, his voice low and teasing. “Didn’t think you’d be the type.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you turned back around. “Don’t you have something else to do?” you muttered, raising your sword to continue your practice.

The satisfying swoosh of the blade cutting through the air was short-lived, though, as another crunch of leaves sounded—closer this time.

You stiffened, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. Slowly, you turned back around, only to find Ni-ki standing much, much closer than before.

Too close.

You instinctively stepped back, gripping the hilt of your sword tighter. “What are you doing?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended.

Ni-ki didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he unsheathed his sword in one smooth motion, the blade catching the faint glow of the moonlight.

Without a word, his sword clashed against yours, the force of it sending a jolt up your arm.

“Training,” he said simply, his voice calm and deliberate.

Your breaths came faster as you struggled to hold your ground. His strength was undeniable, and the weight of his blade pressed hard against yours.

“You could’ve warned me,” you bit out, gritting your teeth as you pushed back against him.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ni-ki replied smoothly, tilting his head as he studied you.

You narrowed your eyes, trying to focus on his movements as he pulled back slightly before swinging again. You barely managed to block the strike, the clash of metal ringing loudly in the quiet night.

“Stop holding back,” he said, his voice low and almost taunting. “Or are you scared?”

“I’m not scared,” you snapped, stepping forward to swing at him, only for him to parry your attack effortlessly.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he teased, his smirk growing wider.

Your frustration bubbled over as you struck again, this time with more force. Ni-ki blocked it easily, but instead of countering, he let his sword linger against yours, his face mere inches from yours now.

“See?” he murmured, his tone soft but no less infuriating. “You’re getting better already.”

His closeness made your heart race, and you hated that you couldn’t tell if it was from irritation or something else entirely. You pushed his sword away with a sharp motion and stepped back, glaring at him.

“Why are you even doing this?” you demanded, lowering your sword slightly.

Ni-ki tilted his head, his smirk fading just a fraction. For a moment, you thought he might actually answer seriously.

But then his lips curved again, and he stepped forward, his blade tapping lightly against yours.

“Because,” he said, his voice dropping into a near-whisper as he leaned in closer, “I like seeing you fight back.”

That was it. That little smirk, the taunting lilt in his voice—it was enough to light a fire under you. If he wanted a fight, you weren’t going to back down.

“Fine,” you snapped, gripping your sword tighter as you took a step forward. “Let’s see if you can handle it.”

Ni-ki’s grin widened, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement. “That’s more like it.”

He struck first, his movements sharp and calculated, but this time you were ready. You blocked his attack and retaliated quickly, your blade swinging toward him in a controlled arc. He parried with ease, the metallic clang of your swords echoing through the clearing.

The fight intensified, your strikes becoming faster, more precise. Ni-ki moved like a shadow, fluid and unpredictable, but you weren’t as easy to throw off now.

“You’re learning,” he said, his voice steady even as he blocked another one of your attacks. “But you’re still predictable.”

“Shut up,” you shot back, using your shield to deflect his next swing and stepping closer to try and land a blow. He sidestepped easily, his laughter low and infuriating.

“That temper of yours is going to get you in trouble,” he teased, but there was something almost approving in his tone.

You didn’t bother replying this time, focusing instead on matching his movements. You swung again, your blade aimed for his side, and for the first time, you saw the faintest flicker of surprise in his eyes as he blocked you just a fraction too late.

Your sword glanced off his armor, the impact making him take a half-step back.

“Not bad,” Ni-ki admitted, his smirk returning as he circled you. “You’re starting to make this interesting.”

The praise caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help the slight swell of pride that followed. But you didn’t let it distract you.

“Better than you expected, huh?” you said, unable to resist the jab as you pivoted to keep him in your line of sight.

Ni-ki’s grin turned sharp. “Don’t get cocky.”

He lunged suddenly, his movements faster and more aggressive. You barely managed to block him, your arms straining as he pressed his weight against your blade.

For a moment, you were locked together, his face inches from yours. His dark eyes bore into you, filled with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“You’re enjoying this,” he said softly, his voice teasing but laced with something deeper.

You didn’t deny it. Somehow, in the midst of the fight, you’d forgotten about your frustration, your doubts, even your irritation with him. All that mattered now was holding your ground against someone as skilled as Ni-ki.

“Maybe I am,” you admitted, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

Ni-ki blinked, momentarily caught off guard when your sudden, unexpected move knocked the sword clean out of his hand. The blade clattered to the ground a few feet away, and you straightened, your smirk growing wider as you stared at him triumphantly.

“Didn’t see that coming, did you?” you teased, the satisfaction in your voice clear.

For once, Ni-ki seemed genuinely surprised, his dark eyes flicking to the fallen sword before locking back onto you. “I’ll admit,” he said slowly, a hint of amusement coloring his tone, “that was clever.”

You were about to bask in your victory, perhaps even throw another jab his way, but before you could, Ni-ki’s leg swept out suddenly, catching you off guard.

Your balance gave way, and you stumbled backward, ready to hit the ground hard—except you didn’t.

In a flash, Ni-ki’s arm shot out, wrapping securely around your waist and pulling you back up against him. The world tilted for a moment, and when you opened your eyes, you realized how close you were.

Your noses brushed lightly, and his face was only inches from yours. His dark eyes bore into yours, filled with that maddening confidence and something else that made your breath hitch.

“You should never celebrate too early,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Your mind scrambled to process what was happening. His arm was still wrapped firmly around your waist, his other hand pressed lightly against the small of your back. You could feel the warmth radiating off him, the way his chest rose and fell with each steady breath.

You should’ve said something—anything. A snarky comeback, maybe, or even a protest about his unfair tactics. But instead, all you could do was stare at him, your heart pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it.

Ni-ki tilted his head slightly, his smirk softening into something more curious. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.

That snapped you out of it, and you quickly shoved at his chest. “Let go of me,” you muttered, trying to sound annoyed despite the heat rising to your cheeks.

He chuckled but released you, stepping back just enough to give you space. His hand lingered for the briefest second before he let it fall to his side.

“Nice move, though,” he said, his tone almost genuine—almost. “But you’ll have to do better if you want to beat me.”

You scowled at him, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. “I did beat you. I knocked your sword out of your hand!”

“And yet,” Ni-ki said, bending down to retrieve his sword and twirling it effortlessly, “I still had the upper hand.”

You clenched your jaw, watching him looking too pleased with himself. The smugness on his face only made your frustration burn brighter.

“I don’t know how you can be so damn confident when you just got outplayed,” you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to hide the fact that your heart was still racing.

Ni-ki chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Outplayed, huh?” He took a step closer, still twirling his sword. “You’re getting better, I’ll give you that. But you’re not there yet.”

“You’re a cocky bastard, you know that?”

“I’m not cocky,” he said, the teasing tone never leaving his voice. “I’m just confident. And you’ll get used to it... if you’re smart.”

You raised an eyebrow, not backing down an inch. “Smart, huh?”

Ni-ki leaned in slightly, lowering his voice in a way that made your breath hitch again. “Yeah. Smart enough to realize that you’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

“I never wanted to get rid of you,” you snapped, trying to regain your composure. “I just wanted to be left alone.”

Ni-ki took another step closer, and this time, you didn’t pull away. His presence was overwhelming—like he could consume you entirely if you let him. “You say that, but we both know that’s not true.” His lips curled into a smile as he tilted his head slightly. “You wouldn’t keep coming back to me if you didn’t want something.”

Your mouth went dry, and for a second, you forgot how to breathe. What was he getting at? Why was he suddenly so... intense? You didn’t know if it was the way he was looking at you or how close he was, but you felt something shift between you, something that made it harder to focus.

Before you could respond, Ni-ki backed away just enough to give you some space, but not before his gaze lingered on you with an unreadable expression. “You’ll figure it out eventually,” he said softly, almost like a challenge. “But for now, don’t forget—I'm always watching.”

He turned and walked off, leaving you standing there, breathless, a mix of anger and confusion swirling inside you. You opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out.

What the hell was that?

Over the next few days, something between you and Ni-ki shifted. It wasn’t immediately obvious, but it was there, lingering.

At first, it was subtle. A glance that lingered just a second too long, a playful comment that felt just a little more personal than it used to be. He still teased you, still pushed your buttons the way only he could, but there was a new layer to it. Every time he sparred with you, there was something in his eyes—something that made your heart beat faster, something that made you feel like he was seeing right through you.

It was hard to tell whether you were imagining it, but you felt it, that strange connection you couldn’t shake. It wasn’t just the usual back-and-forth banter, the constant friction. No, this time, there was something deeper. Something charged. You found yourself waiting for his gaze across the training grounds, your stomach tightening whenever he’d casually stroll past you, like he was waiting for you to say something, anything.

One afternoon, you found yourself in the training yard again, sword in hand, working through some drills. You were trying to focus, trying to shut everything else out, but there he was—Ni-ki, watching you from the edge of the field, leaning casually against a tree. You tried to ignore him, but every few seconds, your eyes would wander over to him, and you’d catch him staring right back.

Finally, he pushed off from the tree and walked over. “You know,” he said, his voice drawing your attention even before he was close enough to speak, “you’ve gotten better. I’m impressed.”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to keep your composure. “Don’t get used to it,” you shot back, though the words came out more lightly than you’d intended.

Ni-ki smirked, his usual arrogance taking over. “Oh, I’m not. But you’re not as bad as I thought you’d be.”

You felt the familiar spark of irritation flare up. “And here I thought you might actually give me a compliment.”

“You really want one from me?” he teased, his voice lowering just slightly. It was almost like a challenge, but there was something else in his tone—something that made you pause.

You crossed your arms, forcing yourself to act unaffected. “What’s it going to take for you to just leave me alone?”

He took a step closer, that teasing smile still tugging at his lips. “You know, I don’t think I can do that.”

You didn’t know why, but you found yourself holding his gaze longer than usual. You were still mad at him for everything, for the way he always seemed to be in your face when you least wanted him to be. But there was also a strange pull, a curiosity that gnawed at you. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were starting to care about the things he said, about the way he looked at you.

You cleared your throat, breaking the moment. “Don’t get too cocky, Ni-ki. I’m not interested.”

He chuckled softly, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Maybe you’re not. But I don’t think you can ignore me forever.”

You took a step back, your heart pounding as you tried to collect yourself, but Ni-ki’s presence was magnetic, pulling you in with an intensity you couldn't fight.

"You're not as good at pretending as you think," he said, his tone a challenge, but there was something softer in it this time.

You clenched your jaw, irritated with yourself for letting him get under your skin. "I'm not pretending," you snapped, your words sharper than you intended. "And I’m definitely not the one who’s making this complicated."

His lips curved into a smile, and he moved just a little bit closer, his gaze intense, unwavering. "You always make things more complicated than they need to be," he said, almost like a confession, like he was admitting something without saying it outright.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. What could you even say? What was there to say when everything between you and him felt so tangled?

Ni-ki took a step forward, not giving you a chance to speak. "I know you feel it too," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You can’t keep pretending like you don’t want this."

Your breath hitched at his words, your chest tightening. You wanted to push him away, to tell him off like you always did, but this time, the thought didn’t come. Instead, you stood there, frozen, staring into his eyes, realizing that he was right. You couldn’t keep pretending, couldn’t keep pretending like it didn’t affect you, like his teasing and his relentless pursuit didn’t make something inside you stir.

A small, dangerous part of you wanted to give in, to let yourself feel whatever this was between you. But you couldn’t—could you? You weren’t sure what this was, what you were supposed to do with it.

Ni-ki took another step closer, and you found yourself backing up slightly, your heels hitting the soft earth beneath you. "You’re scared," he said, his voice softer now, like a quiet understanding. "But I won’t bite, not unless you want me to."

His words made your stomach twist, the light touch of a dare in his voice, a challenge you couldn’t quite ignore. You felt your pulse quicken, every nerve in your body alert, wanting to resist him, but at the same time, craving what he was offering, whatever that might be.

So why not act on it?

Your heart pounded in your chest as you acted on impulse, unable to resist the magnetic pull any longer. Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached up and grabbed his shirt, pulling him toward you. The suddenness of it caught him off guard, and for a split second, he froze, eyes wide in disbelief.

But then, almost as if a switch had been flipped, Ni-ki closed the distance between you, his hands finding your cheeks as he kissed you back. His lips were hungry, as if he had been waiting for this moment, and the intensity of his kiss made your head spin. You could feel the heat of his touch, the way his fingers slid through your hair, tugging you closer, as if trying to pull you into him.

Your mind was a blur, every thought drowned out by the sensation of him—his scent, the taste of his lips, the urgency that seemed to pulse between you both. It felt like something had shifted, like everything else had faded away, leaving only this moment, only him.

His hands were gentle but firm, holding your face as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing closer to yours.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, the air between you thick with unspoken words. Ni-ki’s eyes were dark with something intense, something more than just the teasing that had always been there before. He stared at you for a moment, his fingers still lingering on your face as if he were trying to make sense of what had just happened.

“You…” He trailed off. “That’s one way to get my attention.”

You swallowed, your pulse still racing, but now with a new, more dangerous energy. “Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d actually kiss me back,” you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

Ni-ki chuckled, like he was both impressed and thrilled.

"You’re dangerous," you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them, not sure if you meant him or the situation.

Ni-ki smirked, leaning even closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "And you love it," he whispered, his voice sending a ripple of heat through your entire body.

You didn’t deny it. In fact, you didn’t have to.

"I’m not sure this is a good idea," you admitted instead, but there was a part of you that wasn’t sure if you were still trying to convince yourself or him.

Ni-ki’s grin grew wider, and he traced his thumb across your lips, almost teasing. "Good ideas are overrated," he said, his tone playful. "Besides, I’ve never been one to shy away from a little chaos."

You pulled back slightly, your breath catching as you tried to regain some semblance of control. "Our parents wouldn’t like this," you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Ni-ki's grin never faltered, and his eyes gleamed with mischief. "I never listened to my father," he said, the words casual, but you could hear the underlying truth in them. "And your mother? She has so many children to worry about. What’s one more mess to clean up?" He chuckled, the sound almost a challenge, as if daring you to argue with him.

Every logical thought you had was drowned out by his presence. You should have pulled away. You should have stopped this before it went any further.

But then Ni-ki was closer, so close that you could feel his breath on your skin, and all those thoughts faded into the background. You let him take that final step, let him kiss you again, as if the world outside didn’t exist.

His lips were urgent, almost demanding, and you found yourself responding, giving in to the pull.

He had won. There was no turning back now.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

Perm taglist: @ilyunjina @nshmrarki @laylasbunbunny @kiripimaspillow

@wensurr @immelissaaa @simj4k3 @vegahrid @03sunoos

@hollxe1 @moonpri @cherriesfine @badtzsan @anushkaaaiaiiaiaia

@heeseungbabydoll @wondash @renjiishot @demigodmahash

@strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @honeybunnee @jjongstar111

@enhaprettystars @zorange13

Bold ones are untaggable* Wanna be in the perm taglist? Lmk <3

[flwrstqr]

✶ ꒰ ENHYPEN REACTION WHEN YOU PRANK HIM BY SAYING "I LIKE YOU" AND NOT "I LOVE YOU"

PREC𝓲S ✦ 엔하이픈 x f!reader ‎ ୨୧ 783wc. ᰍ 𝅄 ׁ ˳ fluff, headcanons && cw. kissing, petnames, skinship.˙⠀⋆ ۟⠀｡♡

` . ( MY ARCHiVE ) iF ENJOYED PLEASE REBLOG !! — CLICK

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

as you're about to leave, you casually throw out, "i like you," with a playful grin, watching heeseung’s reaction carefully. he stops in his tracks, eyes narrowing slightly. “wait… like?” he repeats, blinking a few times as if trying to process what you just said. “yeah, i like you,” you say again, suppressing the giggle threatening to spill out. his face scrunches up in confusion, a hint of panic in his eyes. “just like?” he asks, tilting his head, his voice quieter now, like he's genuinely concerned. you stay quiet, biting your lip to keep from laughing, letting the silence drag on just a little longer. “so, what happened to ‘i love you’?” he finally asks, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, his pout making him look almost too adorable. you shrug nonchalantly, still not giving in, and his eyes widen. “wait, no way… did i do something wrong? baby, come on, talk to me,” he pleads, stepping closer and gently cupping your face. his brows are furrowed, lips pursed in worry, and you can’t hold it in any longer. bursting into laughter, you lean into his touch. “i’m just teasing you, hee! of course i love you!” you finally admit. his shoulders relax as he lets out a deep sigh of relief, pulling you into his arms. “you almost gave me a heart attack!” he grumbles, nuzzling his face into your neck. “but fine, you win this time,” he adds, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, “but you owe me an extra 'i love you' now.”

rest of the members below !!

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘

as you grab your bag and head for the door, you turn back to jay with a casual wave. "okay, gotta go, i like you, bye bye," you say quickly, almost slipping out the door before you hear his voice, a little louder than usual. "you what?" jay's tone is incredulous, and you freeze, your hand still on the doorknob. turning around, you see him standing there with one eyebrow raised, arms crossed over his chest. "i like you?" you repeat, acting innocent, but the mischievous grin tugging at your lips gives you away. he steps closer, his eyes narrowing playfully as he leans against the doorframe. "no, that’s not what you usually say. what happened to ‘i love you’?" he teases, his voice softening. you shrug, trying to keep up the act, but your heartbeat quickens when he gently grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. "come on, i need to hear it properly," he murmurs, his gaze locked on yours. biting your lip, you finally give in. "fine, i love you, happy now?" you say, trying to sound annoyed, but your smile betrays you. jay grins, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips. "much better. now you can go," he says, letting go of your wrist but keeping his eyes on you until you walk out the door.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄

as you're about to head out the door, you glance back at jake with a cheeky smile and say, "i like you, bye bye." his reaction is instant—he grabs your hand and pulls you back, his eyes narrowing in playful confusion. "wait, you what?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "i like you," you repeat, trying to act casual, but the grin on your face is a dead giveaway. jake looks at you like you're crazy, crossing his arms. "why ‘i like you’? we’re dating because we like each other?" he teases, his tone a mix of disbelief and amusement. you nod, still keeping up the act. "yup, i like you. that’s why we’re dating," you reply, trying not to laugh. jake steps closer, shaking his head as he narrows his eyes. "no, no. why just ‘like’? where’s the ‘love’? like?" he says, his voice almost pleading. "because i like you," you say again, biting your lip to hide your smile. jake lets out a dramatic sigh, then gently cups your face, bringing you closer. "well, i love you, okay? like is not enough," he says softly, his thumb brushing your cheek. "you better say the right word next time." you laugh, finally giving in. "okay, fine, i love you, happy now?" he grins, leaning in to kiss you. "much better. now you can go, but don’t forget it next time."

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

as you're about to walk out the door, you glance back at sunghoon with a playful smile and say, "i'll see you later, i like you, bye!" before quickly turning to leave. sunghoon blinks, processing your words for a moment, before calling out, "wait... what?" his brows furrow as he stands there, clearly confused. "well, i hope you like me, but do you... love me?" he asks, his voice soft but laced with curiosity. you pause, turning around with a teasing grin. "yeah, that’s why I’m saying it—i like you. now, gimme a kiss," you reply, stepping closer. sunghoon lets out a small, amused laugh and leans down to give you a quick, soft kiss. as you pull away, he gently cups your face, looking into your eyes. "i love you," he says with a smile, his tone sweet and sincere. you can't help but grin as you respond, "i like you." sunghoon shakes his head, laughing under his breath, but the sparkle in his eyes tells you he’s completely smitten. "you’re impossible," he murmurs, still holding onto you for a second longer before finally letting you go.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎

as you slip on your jacket, ready to head out, sunoo watches you with his usual playful smile, eyes glinting with curiosity. "angel," he calls out softly, stepping closer. you turn to face him, heart pounding a bit faster, and instead of your usual "i love you," you say, "i like you." he blinks, clearly caught off guard, his lips curling into a smirk. "no love?" he teases, leaning in, voice low and mischievous. "i said i like you," you repeat, trying to hold back a grin. he pouts dramatically, crossing his arms. "just like? what happened to love?" you roll your eyes, stepping closer, poking his chest lightly. "you're being so dramatic." he huffs, still pouting. "well, i like you too, angel. but you better give me 'love' next time." shaking your head, you start to walk away, but he grabs your hand, pulling you back into a quick hug. "fine, but don't forget to miss me while you're gone," he mumbles against your hair, squeezing you tightly before letting go with a soft smile.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍

as you grab your bag, jungwon looks up from his phone, an expectant smile on his face. "you're leaving already?" he asks, playfully pouting. you nod, standing by the door with your shoes halfway on. "yeah, i’ll see you later," you say, adding casually, "i like you, wonnie." his brows furrow immediately. "like me?" he stands up, crossing the room in a few steps. "hold on, like? what happened to love?" there’s a teasing glint in his eyes, but you know he’s a bit serious. you laugh, leaning into the doorframe. "what? you’re cute, so i like you," you say, drawing out the words to mess with him. "wow, i see how it is. no 'i love you' today, huh?" he shoots you a playful glare. you grin, stepping closer to ruffle his hair. "you’ll survive, baby. i’m sure of it." but before you can turn away, jungwon catches your wrist, pulling you close. "nope, not good enough." he leans in, lips brushing your ear as he whispers, "you’ll have to say 'i love you' before you leave, or i’m not letting you go." his warm breath sends shivers down your spine, and with a laugh, you cave in. "okay, okay. i love you, won." his smile widens, satisfied. "that’s more like it."

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

ni-ki grab your wrist just as you’re about to leave, and he turns around with that familiar smirk already on his lips. “did you just say ‘i like you’?” he asks, pretending to be offended. you shrug, trying to act nonchalant. “yeah, what’s wrong with that?” his eyes narrow as he crosses his arms, clearly amused. “we’ve been together this long and that’s all i get? just ‘i like you’?” you roll your eyes, knowing he’s not going to let it go. “oh, come on, ni-ki. ‘like’ is still a compliment!”he steps closer, his expression teasing. “yeah, well, it’s not enough. i’m waiting for the big three words, you know.” you sigh, trying to hide the grin tugging at your lips. “fine, i like you and i love you. happy now?” his smirk grows wider, and he tilts his head like he’s considering it. “yeah, i guess that’ll do for now.”

[sugarikiz]

MOOD SWINGS

୨ৎ ─── when the mood swings and cramps get too much, your down bad lover’s always there to help you deal with it…

&&엔하이픈니키 ✦ 𝑏𝑓. niki x 𝑓. reader ♡ l’avis . . . est. relationship fluff crying periods pda wc384

go to the masterlist or navigation

mick’s 注記 ─── first day of my period and ive already cried once and rage quit on homework… (so annoying istg) im so annoyed with myself and everything and everybody else that I just can’t even anymore. so, to make me feel better, here I am presenting you with my man and how he would be when he makes you cry on accident!

NIKI NEVER EXPECTED TO MAKE YOU ACTUALLY CRY.

today did not have a wonderful start; you realised your period started as soon as you woke up in the morning, and called off your date with niki because of your crappy mood and cramps. him, being the sweetheart he is, insisted on coming over and cuddling with you, totally fine with helping you out if you needed it.

one moment, you were just debating on what was better — chinese food or korean — when suddenly tears welled up in your eyes for no reason. damn mood swings.

his eyes widened as a sudden panic set in, immediately taking a step closer and cupping your cheeks in his hands with a touch so gentle, one could think you were made of glass. ( read more below the cut >< )

he knew how bad your mood swings and cramps during your period were, sometimes making you a raging ball of fire and tears once a month, but he didn’t expect to make thick tears start to form in the corners of your eyes.

“baby… what’s wrong? did i do something wrong?” his tone was soft — so soft it was barely above a whisper. you shook your head slightly, signalling that it wasn’t his fault.

he gently wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his chest as you let out a few, small sobs. his heart ached with each one, even knowing that he didn’t do anything to cause it.

even when your sobs stopped sounding, he continued to hold you, rubbing soothing circles on your lower back that he knew would somewhat help the relentless stabbing pain in your abdomen.

you pulled away from his chest, eyes still teary. “i’m sorry, I just couldn’t control it…” you mumbled, slightly embarrassed at having cried for absolutely no reason like this. “it’s not your fault, y/n. in fact, it’s good that you let it out,” he spoke, voice gentle as ever. “so, how about some of your beloved chinese takeout and a movie? and cuddles, of course.”

a smile room over your features in an instant, a stark contrast from the tears that were just beginning to dry on the apples of your cheeks.

“do you really think I’d say no to that, ki?”

thank you for reading !! likes + reblogs are really appreciated ><

PERMANENT TAGLIST 𐔌 ﹒ @liya07v @strvvy-anniee @flufflights @eunandonly @hannamoon143 @irasvr @ateez-atiny380 @amoressb @ikeulove @gudkc @mrsjohnnysuh @sol3chu @nerdywitchcrown @sol3chu @puma-riki

[jakedustry]

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘 - 𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

bf!riki x fem!reader

in which your boyfriend insists on leaving his birthday party sooner when he sees you're getting along with his friends little too much

wc 0.7k

warnings jealous!riki, drinking, kissing

↪ izzy adds...happiest birthday to one of my favs <33 this is not proofread!

“I can handle my alcohol,” you assure your boyfriend as you take another shot with his friends. “Riki, I’m fine. I promise,” you spare him a mare look before Heeseung, on your other side, steals your attention, making you laugh about something Riki can’t even comprehend. He sighs, looking down at the drink in front of him. He lost his appetite. 

“Relax, man. It’s your birthday!” His best friend reminds him, patting him on the back. “Yeah, yeah,” Riki just brushes him off, glancing at you before he grips the bottle of soju before him. “Whatever. I’m going home soon anyway.” Jake sighs, his eyes drifting towards you. “She is having fun for the both of you right now. Don’t be mad at her.” Riki only hums in response, not saying anything else before he brings the bottle to his lips, gulping it down as if it were water. 

You shake your head at Heeseung, a laugh escaping your lips. That’s when you feel your boyfriend’s hand on your thigh, making you look up at him. “What’s up?” You ask softly, and he can’t even be mad at you when you give him those eyes. “Stop drinking.” You frown when his breath reaches your face. He’s also had enough. “I told you I’m fine, baby. I’m not drunk yet,” you disagree, but that only makes his grip tighter. You raise an eyebrow at him in question. “Let’s go home,” he insists. 

So you give in, telling everyone you are leaving. However, they don’t let either of you go just like that. You have to take two more shots, “One for each leg,” as Jay says. By the time you’re leaving the place, you’re beginning to feel all the alcohol you had tonight. 

Riki holds your hand in his as he waits for a taxi to arrive, not saying anything, which only worries you. “Are you okay?” You ask, your thumb rubbing the back of his hand to calm him. “Yeah,” he hums, but you both know he doesn’t mean it. “I’m sorry, baby,” you apologize, even though you’re unsure what for. “What’s bothering you?” You step in front of him so he has a reason to look at you, grabbing his other hand, too. 

“They are bothering me,” he admits quietly, mumbling a few curses about his friends. You scoff at that, letting go of his hands so you can wrap your arms around him instead. You pull him into a hug, resting your head on his chest. “I’m sure Heeseung would love a hug like this.” 

That’s when it finally hits you. Your boyfriend—who is always trying to be nonchalant and easy going around you—is jealous. “Oh, baby,” you smile, shaking your head. “You know I’m all yours,” you remind him, rubbing small circles on his back. How funny was this situation? Your gigantic boyfriend pouting in your arms because he is jealous of his own friends. 

“Let’s go home, yeah?” 

♡⸝⸝ 

“Are you feeling better?” You ask, placing another kiss on his collarbone. Your lipstick is covering his whole neck at this point, but he couldn’t care less about that. “And here I was, thinking you would be the one taking care of me tonight,” you mumble, moving up to place a kiss on his cheek. “You are just my big baby, aren’t you?” You watch him roll his eyes and you giggle, finally pressing your lips on his. 

Riki smiles when he feels the familiar touch of your lips, his arms wrapping around your waist so he can pull you closer. “I’m not a baby,” he disagrees, his cold hand sliding under your shirt. He doesn’t move up, though. His hand rests on your waist, simply letting you know he’s there. “Are you sure, baby?” You tease him, but it only leads to him flipping you around on the bed, so you’re lying under him now. “Not a baby,” he repeats himself, leaning in for yet another kiss. 

“Okay, okay,” you laugh. “You aren’t a baby,” you agree with him. As your eyes meet his, you can’t help but smile. He’s cute, no matter how much he doesn’t want the adjective associated with him. 

“Happy birthday, love,” you wish him. “I hope all your wishes come true.”

✧˖°. izzy's tags @beomiracles @adel222 @hwanghyunjinismybae @liaatiny @nxzz-skz ✧˖°. want to get notified? join taglist here!

[smarteoasis]

riki fingering reader literally anywhere.

if he can't fuck you with his dick, he'll use his fingers. it's like his hidden talent.

long, slim and veiny fingers curling in your wet cunt whenever they can.

riki's obsessed with how your pussy clenches on his fingers, so he adds another one each time. testing how far you can be stretched out.

he'll finger fuck you at any point of the day. you wake up? he's fingering you. you're eating dinner? he's fingering you. you're showering? he's joining you and fingering you.

riki's a relentless little shit that needs to feel you cum on some part of his at least thrice a day.

especially when you wear miniskirts, aka easy access.

he'll run his hand over your inner thing before rubbing your clit through your panties, helping slick appear.

you'd think he prefers fucking you with his fingers instead of his dick with how much he does it.

hi everyone! sorry i haven't been active over the holidays i mostly spent time sleeping since i got a break from school. happy new year! ill get to answering asks soon.

[star-sim]

boy's night ☆ riki nishimura

☆ summary: riki had no game, no rizz, which was why he employed the help of his six friends to text you. warning: having seven boys on the phone trying to text a girl does not give good results! ☆ genre: fluff, all enhypen members make an appearance, boys being boys, very stupid, it's getting rizzy in here but clearly i have negative game ☆ warning(s)? no just silliness :3 ☆ word count: 1.7k words

"Oh my god, she texted me!" was the sentence that completely destroyed Jake Sim's house.

Tonight, Riki was having a sleepover at Jake's house. It was supposed to be a chill night, a night in which Riki could bask in his friends' presence before they went off to college again.

There were many perks to being the youngest in his friend group. It seemed like Heeseung, Jay, and Jake forever saw him as their baby, after all, when they all met as children, Riki was a snotty little four year-old, constantly tattling on the older boys. Regardless, it was nearly impossible for them to not fuss over him, constantly asking if he ate yet or if he needed help. Sunghoon teased the ever-living shit out of Riki, sure, but the older boy never hesitated to take Riki's side whenever there was an argument. Sunoo and Jungwon were closest to Riki in age, but that didn't stop them from watching over him closely, like mother cats stalking their cubs.

Though, there was one thing that Riki had to admit that he hated about being the youngest: he was the most inexperienced.

Whenever his friends got their 'firsts,' he was always too young to care. It seemed like all his friends got to experience their first crushes and heartbreaks almost simultaneously, only for them to not be there when Riki had his.

Even when he was now a senior in high school, he had absolutely no idea how to talk to girls.

He'd heard all the stories about Heeseung and his antics at college, all the flirting tips that Jake liked to give out to Sunghoon and Jay, and all the crazed texts that Sunoo and Jungwon sent as they went through relationships.

Even so, Riki had never experienced teenage love for himself.

Enter: You.

You were the cute girl that sat in front of him in his Macroeconomics class. If it wasn't for the fact that Riki absolutely hated Macro, he would blame the fact that you were just so pretty that he couldn't bring himself to focus on the lecture about the New York Stock Exchange.

Initially, Riki had no intention of pursuing you.

You were cute, obviously, but hearing you talk to your partner in class was enough for him. Plus, it wasn't like Riki had any experience— even if he wanted to talk to you, he had no idea how to!

Except, thanks to his nosy friends, your name had been discussed what felt like a million times by the end of the week.

"So... [Name], eh?" was the first thing Sunghoon said as Riki's camera turned on during their weekly weekend FaceTime calls.

"This is so exciting, Riki," Heeseung said as he joined the call.

"Wait, how do you know her again?" Sunoo's voice cut in. "Sorry, my Wi-Fi is bad. You said you know her from Macro?"

With a little more prying, his friends managed to get a middle-school level confession out of Riki.

"I-I just think she's really pretty, and like, she's really smart," Riki huffed, "I don't think she likes me like that— I've never even spoken to her! Like, I can't talk to women, I straight up am a mess and the other day—oh my god— she looked at me and I think I almost passed out. What do I do? I actually cannot do thi—

".... But you think she's pretty, right?"

And that's how Riki managed to get your phone number. With the help of his friends (that felt more like them feeding into his delusions), he worked up the courage to stutter out a simple question.

And when you smiled, nodding enthusiastically as you typed your contact into his phone, Riki felt his soul leave his body.

So, it wasn’t hard to imagine the havoc that engulfed Jake Sim's house (the place of the sleepover) as Riki's phone pinged, your contact name showing up.

It was already late at night, so the boys were raiding Jake's pantry to get midnight snacks. 

The moment that Riki announced that you had just, in fact, texted him first, everyone stopped in their tracks.

"Oh shit!" Jay shouted as he jumped over Jake's sofa, bowl of cereal still in hand.

The sound of crashing as Heeseung knocked over the ramen cups, as well as cutlery dropping abruptly and cabinets slamming filled the house.

"Oi, don't mess up my kitchen!" Jake yelled as his feet pounded against his stairs, scrambling so fast that he practically glided downstairs. After Jungwon spilled milk on his shirt, he was half-way through putting on a new shirt as he clambered down.

"What did she—" Sunoo pushed Jay out of the way, knocking the older boy over as he plopped down next to Riki on the living room carpet and peeked over his shoulder— "What did she say?!"

Within seconds, all six of his friends were huddled around Riki, pushing each other out of the way to catch a glimpse of what you said.

"Move your fatass head!"

"I can't see!"

As his friends argued, Riki stared at his phone, chewing on his bottom lip. His heart was pounding in his chest. He only saw the notification, and didn't see what you said yet.

What if you said something crazy, like "I just found out about that one time in first grade when you peed yourself at the playground" even though Riki and all his friends agreed to never speak of that incident again?! Or, what if you confessed your everlasting love for him in a long paragraph?

His head was spinning.

"Wait, did you open the message yet?!" Jungwon abruptly yelled into Riki's ear.

"No..." Riki answered slowly, watching the way all of his friends' once tense faces soften with relief.

"Oh my god," Jake sighed in relief.

"Phhhhheeewww!" Heeseung said dramatically.

"Why?" Riki frowned. "What's wrong with opening the message?"

"[Name] can see if you read her message if you open it," Sunghoon said matter-of-factly. 

"Why is that a bad thing?"

All of his friends groaned.

They taught him a trick: swipe just enough so that he could see the message, but not enough that the system marks it as read.

Hey, was all you said, much to Riki's relief.

"What do I say?" Riki asked, clutching his phone. His eyes flickered to his friends as he sucked his bottom lip under his teeth pensively. "How do I respond to this?"

"Just say 'hey' back!" Jay blurted.

"No!" Heeseung shook his head profusely. "Anything but that!"

"Why not? You want him to say haiiii instead?" Sunghoon nudged the older boy.

"No, no, no!" Jungwon reached across to smack Sunghoon's knee. "All of you are wrong."

Jungwon turned to Riki. "Just respond with an emoji."

They all groaned loudly.

"Okay, anything but a goddamn emoji!"

Riki ended up typing out a simple hey in response. He had to make Sunoo press send for him, squeezing his eyes shut. Riki immediately shut his phone off, placing it face down.

"I don't want to see if she responds or not!" Riki moaned. 

Within a minute or two, his phone pinged again.

"She responded!"

Even though you only asked, How was your day?, the entire house was once again invigorated. The boys shrieked, whooping and hitting Riki's shoulder, so loud that the house probably shook.

"Oh my god, it's happening!"

"Ouuuuu, she wants you, Riki!"

"Everyone shut the fuck up, it's time to lock in, oh my god it's actually happening—"

And just as everyone settled back down, ready to give Riki their mind-blowing advice, his phone dinged again.

[Attachment: 1 photo]. It was a silly picture of you, one of those cute ones that showed your eyes, clearly taken on the spot. 

"OHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Shewantsyousobadohmygo—"

According to Jake, if a girl sends you a picture of herself, no matter how silly or cute it is, she is head over heels for you.

"One message at a time!" Jay yelled over Jake's shoulder as they tried to figure out how to respond. "You need to answer her question first and then respond to the picture!"

"No! Don't respond to the picture!" Sunghoon, who was all the way in the guest bathroom, yelled from behind the bathroom door, his voice both booming and muffled. "She'll think you're weird!"

"I agree," Sunoo said.

"I agree," Jungwon mocked him in a nasally voice, earning a slap to the shoulder. "Just heart the picture!"

But their arguing fell upon deaf ears.

"Riki, what are you doing?!"

Riki was on his own, his heart beating at the tip of his fingers.

I hung out with my friends today and it was fun, how was yours? was his first response. Pressing on the picture, he responded, You look cute.

When Riki glanced over at his friends, they were sprawled across the floor, crying aloud dramatically.

"It's over."

"You're insane."

"Fumbled."

Riki threw a pillow at them. "I didn't fumble— Oh shoot, she's typing!"

The house was once again filled with screaming and crashing as they scampered to Riki's side.

You typed for a few moments. Everyone was at the edge of their seat, simply begging to see how you'd respond. But then, you stopped.

"Good game, guys."

"100% over."

Riki chewed on his thumb, his eyes glued to his phone screen. Did he creep you out? Was it weird for him to say that you looked cute? Did he fuck up?

But then you finally replied.

My day was just filled with homework, very boring, you replied. Maybe if I spent it with you it would have been more fun.

Oh.

My.

God.

Riki's hands shook as he typed back another response, completely ignoring the complete and utter disaster around him. He didn't know what came over him. He wouldn't say any of the things that he typed out loud, let alone to your face. It was like he was possessed by some spirit that gave him the courage to type. Without even noticing it, his heart was palpitating in his chest, his entire face, neck, and ears covered in a red shade.

I'm free tomorrow, he typed. 

"RIKI WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU—"

Okay, you simply responded. 12PM. The Block. Let's have fun.

"D-Did she just ask you out?"

Riki glanced at this phone, then at his friends, who stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers and their jaws dropped to the floor, then back at his phone. He blinked. "Yeah."

"Yes?!"

Riki blinked again. "Yeah."

.

.

.

And then it hit him.

"Oh my god, [Name] asked me out...!"

[roanns-posts]

some of my riki nishimura camera roll dump! <3 (ft. a soft riki edit -not mine-) 🧡🧡🧡

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[bambisnc]

            . . sippin' diet pepsi ♡

⤷ "fuck,.." his voice is slightly hoarse as he struggles to catch his breath, a delicate string of spit stretching from your lips to his, "y'taste so sweet. what is that, cherry?"

### . STARRING ⌢ n.rk ⋆ suggestive xx + 1.1k // uneditted + swearing + implied innocent!reader + first kiss, kissing + implied fuckboy!jungwon ˖ ✧

🗨️ .. ⌞ untouched, XO ⌝ shit's crazy + [m.list]

thinking about childhood bsf!nishimura riki.

thinking about how you've known him pretty much all your life owing to the fact that you literally grew up with him as your next door neighbor; it was only obvious that the proximity would lead to a close relationship between the two of you and, well, it was only obvious (to everyone but you, apparently) that you'd end up developing feelings for the boy.

but as time passed, you grew older and ended up going your separate ways and losing touch. of course, you didn't ever really end up getting proper closure on whatever it was that you felt for him, resulting in a weird crush you never really get over.

but fast forward and it's winter vacation! both your families decide it's the perfect time for a huge get together, because, it's been so long with everyone here~! so you're all but threatened to spend your time off back at home. well, hey, if it's any consolation at least niki will be suffering with you?

oh, what's that? he volunteered to drive you? well isn't that lovely! what a wonderful opportunity to spend time and catch up with your beloved friend!

...

"fuck,.." his voice is slightly hoarse as he struggles to catch his breath, a delicate string of spit stretching from your lips to his, "y'taste so sweet. what is that, like, cherry?"

the slight sheen of sweat on his features and mussed up hair from your hands running through his locks captivates you so deeply that you almost forget to answer. "... it's cherry lip gloss, yeah."

his tongue runs over his lips before he simply hums in response. you doubt riki knows how badly you want to lean in again, to close the little remaining space still between you and to kiss him again and again till he's completely senseless. even if for no other reason than to, somehow, convey your own yearning for more.

the cool metallic cans of half finished diet pepsi in the center console graze your thigh lightly when you shift to settle in your position on top of him more comfortably.

merely a half an hour ago, while stopping for gas and earlier mentioned refreshments, you remember him asking if there was anything you were looking forward to going back home.

and you, high off of sugary lollipops and cringey yelled out song lyrics, had promptly replied back, "yang jungwon."

"... jungwon? that nerd we went to school with?" riki had asked, voice almost alarmingly low pitched. "and why is that, exactly?"

"i mean ... he's cute; messaged me on insta a couple times recently."

"oh yeah? s’that right?.. never really took him to be ... your type."

"...? what is that supposed to mean. are you even in touch with jungwon?"

"mm, nah, i’ve just heard stuff through the grapevine. he's more the type to get around, if you know what i mean. more of an, ah,.. experienced dude," he pauses, letting his gaze trail up and down your figure, "and you're basically .. well.

... a naive little girl."

you didn't talk to him for a whole hour after that. 

the silence settling in afterwards was heavy, until the childhood best friend you’d been rather looking forward to meeting decided to be even more of a shit than usual and let slip a few more harsh jabs about how you were so, so innocent that you probably hadn’t even had your first kiss yet~.

“yeah, well,” you’d said, deciding you couldn’t take it anymore. “unless you’re planning on helping with that – just shut the fuck up and drive.” 

riki had glanced at you sideways, calculating, one hand casually draped over the steering wheel. 

“alright.”

“that’s what i thought — wait what?.”

“i said, yeah, i’ll help.” his face was rather composed, considering what he had offered up, only the barest hint of a smirk visible, “might as well, if you’re planning on whining about this all the way.”

“i wasn’t-,” but before you could even think about formulating a coherent response, he was already shifting into reverse and bringing the car to a halt. you’re pretty sure you’d all but sat there with your mouth hanging agape. was riki serious about this?...

his hand brushing against your jaw, moving your face towards his from how you were previously resolutely staring forward, jolted you out of your haze. “i’m going to kiss you now.”

“... okay.” 

and then his lips were on yours, and the world outside the car seemed to disappear.

…

fast forward to the present, which you’re brought back to by a harsh jab, tantalizingly veiled by the fact that the person mumbling it does so with his lips so close to yours that you feel riki say it before you hear him. “you suck at this, fyi.” 

and there was that infuriatingly gorgeous smirk of his again.

you huff, annoyance clearly oozing from the sound, "guess i need more practice, then."

“mhm.” he presses a soft peck to the corner of your mouth, “that’s what i’m here for.”

riki’s hands readjust themselves on your waist, pulling you closer, finally, but instead of kissing you properly, he only peppers a trail of featherlight ones along your jaw all the way down your neck. with an ease that can only be accounted for by a certain familiarity between you, you allow your head to tilt back. 

the increased access is taken full advantage of by him, obviously. one of his hands glides up to rest behind your neck, the softer kisses leading way to increasingly rougher, more bruising bites and nips. 

“hey – ouch. stop that.” 

“what’s that, hmm? ‘s it getting too much for you?” his thumb strokes your tender skin that is bound to end up with red and purple marks – marks that will definitely inspire questions you won’t really know how to answer. 

“‘m sorry, baby. let me apologize for it, yeah?” 

and you can’t really bring yourself to turn that down. not when he looks at you like that,.. kiss swollen lips, red flush against his honeyed skin, eyes half lidded with something you can’t exactly place…

unbeknownst to both you and him, however, riki’s phone buzzes where it lays forgotten in the backseat. when the vibrations stop, a soft ping! makes itself known. if either of you were paying any attention, that is. 

the display screen shows 4 new messages from a contact named “yang jw” 

riki wtf you guys were supposed to call like 2 hours ago. your guys' moms are freakin' PISSED at me rn

istfg i will beat ur ass. make out on YOUR OWN TIME MF

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

[@bambisnc] 2k25

[songbirdseung]

walk home / nishimura riki

did you think you'd get a potential boyfriend on your way to the convenience store during one of your many midnight walks?

you had walked these streets every day for the past four years, each step blending into the next, creating a rhythm of routine. the same worn pavements, familiar storefronts, and repetitive decorations lined your path. nothing out of the ordinary ever caught your attention—just the usual, mundane occurrences that seemed to blur together. each day felt like a carbon copy of the last, a predictable cycle you had grown accustomed to.

but today, something unexpected happened.

as you made your way down the street, lost in your thoughts, a sudden burst of energy interrupted your mental drift. out of nowhere, a small, fluffy dog came dashing toward you, its tail wagging furiously, eyes alight with excitement. the little pup stopped at your feet, looking up at you with an expression of pure joy, as if you were its long-lost best friend. taken aback, you crouched down to greet the enthusiastic furball, your heart instantly warming at the sight.

"well, aren’t you a friendly one," you murmured, scratching behind the dog’s ears. the pup leaned into your touch, clearly enjoying the attention.

before you could wonder where its owner was, a voice called out from behind, slightly breathless. "bisco! there you are!" the voice exclaimed. you looked up to see a young man jogging toward you, his face flushed from exertion, strands of dark hair falling into his eyes.

"i’m so sorry about him," he said, stopping a few steps away. "bisco usually doesn’t just run up to strangers like this."

that’s how you met riki—and his dog, bisco.

you remembered the rush of emotions you felt when you first saw him. he was gorgeous, with a striking yet approachable face, his tall frame accentuated by his confident stride. despite his edgy clothing style, there was a softness to his demeanor that made him seem approachable and, frankly, adorable.

"hi," he said, still catching his breath. "i really apologize. bisco can be a little... unpredictable sometimes."

"it’s okay," you replied with a smile, still petting the dog. "bisco, huh? that’s a cute name."

riki chuckled, a sound that made your heart flutter. "thanks. he’s named after my favorite snack."

you laughed softly. "well, bisco seems to like me. he ran straight over."

"i don’t blame him," riki said, his lips quirking into a shy smile. "he has good taste."

there was a beat of comfortable silence, bisco happily wagging his tail between you. you felt a warmth spreading through your chest, a strange but pleasant sensation, as if something meaningful had just begun.

"so... do you walk bisco around here often?" you asked, hoping to keep the conversation going.

"yeah, we live just a few blocks away. this is his favorite route," riki replied, his hands casually slipping into his pockets. "what about you?"

"same. i walk this way almost every day. funny we haven’t crossed paths until now."

"guess bisco was determined to change that today," riki said, glancing down at his dog with affection.

"looks like it," you agreed, laughing softly. "maybe he’s trying to set us up."

riki’s eyes twinkled with amusement. "if he is, he’s doing a great job."

you continued chatting, the conversation flowing easily despite having just met. bisco occasionally tugged at his leash, sniffing around and wagging his tail, oblivious to the new connection forming above him. with each passing minute, the once-familiar street seemed to transform. what had always been a mundane path now felt filled with possibility and excitement, all because of this chance encounter.

"maybe we should let bisco choose our routes more often," riki said, his tone light but his eyes holding a deeper interest.

"maybe we should," you replied, feeling a smile stretch across your face.

as the two of you stood there, the world around you seemed to fade into the background. the once-ordinary day had turned into something extraordinary, thanks to a playful pup.

"hey," riki’s voice gently pulled you back to reality. you blinked a few times, refocusing on the present. he was standing in front of you, his head tilted slightly, an amused grin tugging at his lips. "you okay there? you zoned out for a second."

"oh, sorry," you said, feeling a bit flustered. "i was just... thinking."

"about the first time we met?" he asked, a knowing glint in his eyes. "you had that same dreamy look on your face."

you laughed, trying to hide your embarrassment. "yeah, you caught me. i was thinking about bisco running up to me and how awkward you were."

"hey!" riki protested with a mock pout, crossing his arms. "i wasn’t that awkward."

"you totally were," you teased, nudging his arm. "but it was cute."

riki shook his head, chuckling softly. "well, if it got us here, i guess a little awkwardness was worth it." he reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and familiar.

[mygnolia]

ENHYPEN WHEN ONE OF YOU LEAVES SOMETHING BEHIND !!

or.. ENHYPEN when one of you left something behind!!

pair: established relationship! enha x reader | REN SAYS…yes this is inspired by romance untold engene vers ive been seeing the dnce trend all over tiktok i HAD to!!

PERM TAGLIST @dimplewonie @heeheesang @mintpjzroll send ask/dm to join!

[icysab]

more niki boyfie hcs — falling for you edition!

requested here!

wc: <350 i think

a/n: this is a little different than my standard boyfie hcs but i wanted to try something new, so let me know your opinion in comments, reblogs, asks, etc. of this format !!

a/n no. 2: idc what anyone says riki is a DORKY, RIZZLESS LOSER SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD BOY AND I WILL WRITE HIM AS SUCH.

- bro was CAPTIVATED by your smile

- that was literally the first thing he noticed about you— how your smile lit up the room he was in

- you were one of jungwon’s friends and so he introduced you to all the members

- and when i tell you niki’s heart STOPPED when he saw you

- but niki is loyal to his bros!! so he swallowed the lump in his throat so jungwon didn’t kill him

- (jungwon, in fact, introduced you to the members because you mentioned that niki was cute. he would not have cared one bit.)

- only realizes he’s staring after sunoo nudges him with his elbow

- literally stuttering trying to introduce himself

- “i, uh, my name is- uh- riki”

- (failed) attempts at acting aloof fly out the window when you repeat his name back and smile

- the second you leave jake and sunghoon RELENTLESSLY tease the poor guy

- and he gets so defensive too, like he wasn’t acting like a lost puppy dog

- before jakehoon can strip niki of too much of his pride though, won tells them to knock it off

- after scolding the two goofballs (scary leader) won decides to tell niki

- “you know, i don’t care if you go for her”

- poor riki is not following

- “??”

- “she thinks you’re cute too, and besides, you’d make a good match”

- he malfunctions

- “no nono why would you think that!! HAHA- wait. she thinks i’m cute??”

- he’s all red and blushy

- at this point jakehoon are CACKLING at poor riki

- won explains that you thought riki was cute too and that’s why he introduced you two, but he didn’t expect him to be such a nervous wreck around you

- riki is shocked 😮

- after MUCH coaxing from the members, won finally gets riki to text your number

- riki’s leg won’t stop bouncing with nerves as he types out a message

- “hey, this is riki from earlier. i just wanted to say that your shirt was cool”

- all the members facepalm at his attempts at playing it cool

- you respond almost instantly, to riki’s surprise

- “hi riki!! thank you, + i thought your outfit was cool too :D”

- before he can breathe a sigh of relief that your text was super nice and simple, he sees the typing bubble pop up again

- “did you ask won for my number? hah you must have wanted an excuse to talk to me again ”

- he freezes again

- HOW DID YOU SEE RIGHT THROUGH HIM??

- he’s about to deny, deny, deny, but won stops him

- “dude, just tell her the truth. did you already forget that she thinks you’re cute too?”

- riki’s brows furrow in thought at that, but before he can even begin to construe a cool, smooth response, jake rips the phone out of his hands

- RIKI SCREAMS SO LOUD THE ENTIRE DORM REVERBERATES while jake books it to the bathroom to lock himself in

- after a minute, he walks out with riki’s phone and the most devilish smirk on his lips

- before jake can do anything else, riki snatches the phone back and apprehensively starts to read the damage jake had done

- “lol you caught me. if you want, we could get to know each other better over some ice cream tmr? it’ll be my treat”

- “woah, that was smoother than i expected. ill see you tmr riki :)”

- riki is dumbfounded. did jake actually just score him a date with YOU?? there’s no way this worked

- “thank me later,” jake teases

- he is so in shock that he doesn’t even have the capacity to kill jake. tomorrow, a date (???) with you? he can die a happy man.

- to be continued…. ?

[hoonjayke]

Ni-ki — Late Night

CHARACTERS: — Ni-ki x Reader (f)

SUMMARY: — Your nights have never been the same since Riki, a mysterious boy, started visiting you daily at your part-time job at the local convenience store.

GENRE: fluff — part-timer reader x flirty ni-ki

WARNINGS: none, just pure fluff.

WC: 1,3k — masterlist

— Author Note: Just a small fluff scenario that came to mind. It's been a while since I wrote something, so I hope you guys like it <3 If there are any errors please lmk.

The night was quiet as a random program played on the convenience TV. You often looked at the clock wondering if Riki would come today too. Anxiety was at its peak as you stared at the door with no sign of the boy.

Ever since you met Riki, your nights at the convenience have never been the same. What was once a simple part-time job became one of your favorite parts of your day because of the small interactions with the boy.

At first, he didn't say much, he just bought some candy or something to drink while looking at you for a few seconds. His gaze was so penetrating that you became aware of his presence after a few days.

The glances evolved into small smiles and polite greetings. He didn't want to disturb your work, but he couldn't help but notice the way you seemed to be nervous by his presence and how cute it was.

“It’s cold today, isn’t it?” It was the first time he spoke and you felt your heart skip a beat at his deep voice. "Yes." Was all you could say before his chuckle cut through the air. “Be careful, so you don't get sick,” He looked at the tag on your uniform to know your name “y/n.” The way he said your name seemed so delicate that you felt it in your bones.

The fact that he knew your name but you didn't know his was a mystery you wanted to solve.

The other day you were determined to ask his name, but you were surprised when he introduced himself. “The usual?” You asked and he smiled showing you a different energy drink “Today I wanted something different.” You reached for the drink when you felt his fingers lightly brush yours. “I’m Riki, by the way.” You felt butterflies in your stomach when you saw his deep gaze and the smile forming on his lips.

“Nice to meet you, Riki.” You gave him a sweet smile “Good to know the name of our best client.” His laugh warmed your heart. You really had developed a crush on the boy who showed up every day at the convenience store "Nice to meet you too." He responded while you both maintained visual contact before he went out after paying.

Since then you had been waiting for Riki even if the conversations only lasted a few minutes. Deep down you felt pathetic at how quickly you developed a crush on Riki, but he had such a natural charm that it was inevitable.

You wished you had the courage to ask for his number, but you knew you probably wouldn't be able to.

"Goodnight." Your thoughts were interrupted by the familiar voice of Riki entering the convenience smiling as always.

"Goodnight." You said as you watched how he looked even more handsome today. His parted hair and the black jacket were the perfect ensemble for you to feel your heart stop.

'He looks so good' You thought while he focused on the drinks session. You ran your palms over your vest trying to remove any trace of sweat. It was shocking how his presence could make such an impact.

“Oh, it ran out of that energy drink... I'll get that one.” He muttered to himself as he grabbed a different drink and your eyes met when he decided to walk to the register. “If you want, I can see the storage room if there's another one.” You commented and he shook his head. “It’s okay, I don’t want to give you trouble.” He put the drink beside the register and with his hands in his pocket he looked at you as if he wanted to say something.

“What time does your shift end?” Your eyes opened in surprise at the boy's mischievous question. Your heart was beating so hard you were afraid he could hear “Approximately in 1 hour.” He approached the counter and leaned in, his hands grabbing the edges. “Wanna go to somewhere nice?” You almost couldn’t believe you were hearing Riki ask you out.

“And where would it be?” You asked, your eyes shining with curiosity and he bit his lip trying to contain his smile at your cuteness. “There's a new food truck near the park, and I wanted to try it out... with you.” You immediately smiled and nodded “Sure, I’d love to.”

Riki smirked and paid for the drink before touching your fingers. “I’ll wait here.” He sat in a chair near the window so he could see you straight on. "Okay." Your cheeks heated up as he looked calm watching you in silence.

As more customers arrived, he waited patiently to pass the time, while you mentally cursed yourself for choosing such a normal outfit today. If you were going out on a date with Riki you should be more dressed up.

Your shift flew by with the small talks with Riki and the service in general. Before the employee arrived to take your shift, he was already outside leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. You left the convenience and ran your hand on your skirt trying to remove any wrinkles.

He looked you up and down, giving you a small smile, noticing how worried you looked. He approached slowly, standing in front of you ── was he that tall? “Don’t worry, you look beautiful.” Your cheeks flushed when you heard the compliment, “Thank you.”

Riki lightly touched your cheek with his thumb, stroking the spot before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear “Do you like spicy food?” He asked and you felt your insides churn at the action.

"A little bit." You responded, trying to maintain eye contact and failing miserably. Riki smiled, scratching his nape “Good, I guess you’ll like the food there then.” You smiled as you decided to walk to the location that was close to convenience.

On the way you talked and you felt an inexplicable joy because you were finally able to have a decent conversation with Riki. It wouldn't be a few seconds or minutes, but finally a long and nice talk.

••••

During the entire date, you discovered that he was Japanese and that he loves dancing. He also finally got to know more about you, like your hobbies and how you worked at night to earn extra money. The weather was great, and the food was good, everything seemed to work together for your first date to be perfect.

“One question," You started a new topic "why did it take so long for you to talk to me?” You questioned him after feeling more comfortable after the meal. He gave an embarrassed laugh as he poured more drink into his glass. “I didn’t want to look like a weirdo or get in the way of your work, you know?” He gave you a quick look “What about you? You always seemed excited whenever I went there, but you didn’t say anything.”

You were surprised by Riki's response and laughed shifting your attention away. “It’s just... not that simple for me to initiate small talk, even though I'm excited.” He chuckled seeing your cheeks turn pink after your response. “Was it that obvious?” Riki nodded with a smirk. “Yeah, it’s cute.”

Riki definitely knew how to press the right buttons to speed up your heartbeat.

Time flew by after the long conversation and you felt like you two automatically clicked. The walk to your building wasn't long, making you a bit sad having to say goodbye to him.

When you saw the facade of the building you looked at Riki “Thank you for today, it was really nice.” He smiled and asked for your phone to save his number. “See you tomorrow?” He asked anxiously as he bit his lip looking into your eyes expectantly. “Of course.” You smiled, saving your number in his phone too.

“Sleep well.” Riki held your hand and kissed it there, caressing the spot with his thumb with such a tenderness that melted your heart “You too.” He smiled and waited for you to enter before leaving.

After this date, you knew that your story with this mysterious boy was just beginning.