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mygnolia · 2 months ago

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to weave my love ⭒ n. riki

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Nope.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And they’re silenced immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He doesn't like it one bit.

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

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

A spark.

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

What the hell was that?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That scared the shit out of him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake gawks. “You must really like her,”

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

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

“Gross.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s attracted to the power plant.

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

Bam.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He blurts, “He just got badly hurt.”

Immediately, Jake knows he’s fucked up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

RIKI'S TO-DO LIST BEFORE PROM

☐ talk to ____ regularly

☐ don't make it awkward

☐ be..cute?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You. He still needs to save you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Riki. Spark. Spider-Man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What. The. Fuck.

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

Until now.

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

His blood runs cold.

“You think this…why?”

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

Riki was going to strangle his best friend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you for saving me tonight.”

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

“Goodnight, Spiderman.”

—-

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

The machine was scheduled to be completed tomorrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the solution hits him. Literally.

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

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

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

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

Maybe this is where Spider-Man dies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ll understand after he explains everything, right?

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

Do not say it’s true.

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

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

“Holy shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pause. “For being Spider-Man?”

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

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

“I really want to ask you to prom.”

You simply stare at him, surprised.

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

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

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

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

“Jake.”

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

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

“For what?”

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

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

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

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

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

“How’d Jake find out?”

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

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

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

“Not stupid. Keep going.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But first, he has to try something out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought girls liked this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED AND ALWAYS READ!

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

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

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ellecdc · 4 months ago

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hi! i absolutely love your works, particularly your poly!marauders(w/lily). i think you write them so beautifully and harmoniously that you can't help but fall in love with them.

i wanna compliment you on your recent two-parter about remus and the whole revealing the werewolf thing. the angst to fluff had me on the edge of my seat. thank you for writing such a piece! 🤍

i hope its not too much to ask but in part 1, there's a brief mention of sirius receiving letters from i can assume is his family that lily confiscates and the group tends to love on him a bit more. let's say reader isn't in the loop about sirius' family life and she feels a bit sad that she can't comfort sirius like the rest can, and in general feels lost because it's another thing she isn't 'let in on'. i was wondering if you could write a little something on that? maybe some misunderstandings with a fluffy ending?

i hope this is something you're ok w writing 🥹 if not, its ok! still wish u the best always!

this is so sweet - thank you! & thanks for your request - hope you like it!!

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // pt 5

poly!marauders + lily x fem!reader who find's her own way to comfort Sirius - 2.1k

CW: brief mention of Sirius' childhood, allusions to anxiety, our shy Hufflepuff reader, hurt comfort, Sirius-centric

There was this saying that you never really understood before.

Love makes you do crazy things.

And while the definition of crazy may be up for debate, you’re quite sure it could be understood as acting completely out of character.

So here you were, acting completely out of character; voluntarily marching towards a secluded end of the library where three Slytherin’s were sitting that you had - up until this point - managed to avoid completely.

But you couldn’t, wouldn’t, avoid them any longer; not now, not for Sirius.

The dust settled relatively well after the news of Remus’ lycanthropy had been shared with you; the five of you seemed to find a sort of freedom in not having to hide from one another anymore. Remus could be himself, the other’s could love him appropriately, and you could too.

But another one of those black envelopes with a green wax seal showed up at breakfast yesterday, and the group delved into their usual hide-the-envelope-and-coddle-Sirius practice.

Lily took the envelope and disposed of it, James and Sirius had a floo call with the Potter’s, and Remus’ mum and dad sent baked goods from Wales via owl.

You had since gathered that these letters were coming from his parents, or at the very least from someone in the Black family; you had also gathered that the contents of the letter’s were hurtful or upsetting to Sirius. And even though he never got to read them, a heavy cloud seemed to form and follow the young ex-heir around.

And your heart felt heavy; not because they were keeping anything from you, per se, but rather because they seemed to have a routine that didn’t include you.

And while you didn’t want to encroach in spaces that you weren’t necessarily invited in, you couldn’t help but feel like you should be doing more.

Lily, James, and Remus all had something they could offer Sirius; they all had some way that they could support him.

You didn’t.

And it wasn’t for a lack of trying on your part, but rather that no one seemed particularly inclined to burden you with any negativity.

“Don’t worry about me, babydoll; this is standard Black stuff. I’ll be just fine.” Sirius had said when you asked if he was okay; his usual salacious smile significantly dimmed as it seemingly took the majority of his effort in his response.

The others hadn’t been much help either; Remus and James effectively telling you that you were too sweet to have to worry about such horrid people, and Lily trying to assure you that they had it under control and not to worry - Sirius would be okay.

And that was all well and good, but it wasn’t enough for you - it was about sodding time you started pulling your weight in this relationship.

So - with nothing more than the teeniest bit of courage you were sure you pilfered from your four Gryffindors and perhaps a healthy dose of delusion - you forced your feet to take you in the direction of the only person in the entire castle you thought might possibly be able to help you.

“My, my, my; to what do we owe the absolute pleasure, little Puffle?” Barty Crouch Junior mocked as you paused at their table; Evan Rosier and Regulus Black picking their heads up to look at you incredulously and bemusedly respectful.

“Did ya get lost there, L/N? Need me to find you one of your Gryffindor’s?” Evan taunted, earning him what looked like a kick in the shin from Regulus, though you couldn’t be certain on account of the table impeding your view.

“Erm…I-I was sort of wondering if I could speak with you, Regulus?” You managed to murmur awkwardly.

The three Slytherin’s seemed to have a silent conversation as they shared glances before Barty shrugged and Evan rolled his eyes; both standing and leaving the two of you some privacy.

Regulus watched as you cast a hasty muffliato around the table - another trick you’d picked up from the Gryffindor’s - and as you helped yourself to a seat with your boyfriend’s younger brother.

“Is Sirius okay?” Regulus asked quickly, his voice no more than an urgent whisper as he looked at you imploringly.

His intensity caught you off guard; you were so certain getting anything out of the notoriously stand-offish Slytherin would be next to impossible, but he had beat you to the conversation and seemed to be just as worried about his brother as you were.

You remembered then why you liked Slytherin’s so much; you often found a kindred spirit in them, for one thing that a Slytherin valued most was a sense of loyalty.

Well, didn’t you have enough loyalty to use to your advantage.

You wondered rather belatedly if you had overstepped. It was admittedly too late to ask yourself this now; standing outside of the boys’ dorm with a package in your hand.

What’s done is done. You had a one-track mind, and that was to help Sirius.

With this, you raised your hand and gently knocked on the door.

It had been James to open the door; his jaw tense until he saw you, which seemed to cause his face to melt into an awkward expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Hi angel.” He greeted apologetically. “You okay?”

You were confused by his greeting, and his question, and the fact that he hadn’t moved out of the way of the door to invite you in as he usually did.

“I’m fine.” You responded quickly, trying to look behind him. “What’s wrong?”

James made a sound of discomfort in the back of his throat as he looked over his shoulder, still not moving to allow you entry.

“Listen, sweetheart; I’m not sure now is a great time…”

“It’s Sirius, is it?” You asked quickly. His responding grimace proving your suspicions. “I need to see him.”

“Sweets, maybe you could come back la-”

But later wasn’t good enough, you see. You had a one-track mind, and that was to help Sirius.

So, in the name of love making you do crazy things and still acting completely out of character for you, you shoved your way past James’ hip, bending under his arm to allow yourself your own entrance to the boys’ dormitory.

Lily sat at the end of Sirius’ bed where she had one hand resting on his ankle; her thumb stroking back-and-forth over his achilles tendon.

Remus sat against the headboard with Sirius in his arms; his lips pressed against his hair as he murmured sweet nothings to him.

And as you stepped closer, you could see an indent where James had been sitting, opposite of Lily likely serving the same support as your red-headed girlfriend.

“Siri?” You asked quietly, causing him to stiffen significantly before sitting up and feigning nonchalance.

“Hi doll.” He croaked then, wiping angrily at the tear tracks on his face and pasting on a smile. “Didn’t mean for you to see me like this. What’s up?”

You hated the faux blase act he was putting on for your sake, but you reminded yourself why you were here.

To help.

“I have something for you.” You offered quietly, procuring the parchment wrapped package and holding it out for him.

“Awe.” He chuckled wetly with a sniffle. “You didn’t need to get me anything.”

“Well, I suppose I can’t take all the credit for it.” You replied, watching him pause in the process of opening to look at you in confusion.

“Open it.” You encouraged.

He finished ripping the parchment from the box before lifting the lid.

You felt your heart stop as the lid fell unceremoniously from his hands and a small gasp left his lips at the sight of the small, stuffed black cat sitting inside.

You’d spent the afternoon learning about the tail of two toys; Splash the cat and Padfoot the dog. The only toys the two young Black family boys were given came from their Uncle Alphard in the form of a plush cat and a plush dog; both with black fur as a nod to the family name and the boys’ hair colour.

Even though Uncle Alphard had given the dog to Sirius and the cat to Regulus, the boys often traded, depending on their current circumstances.

You learned that when Sirius went to Hogwarts, he had left with the cat.

When he returned home after having been sorted into the wrong house, Regulus had given him the dog.

And when Regulus joined Sirius at Hogwarts only to be ripped from his brother - possibly for good - after being sorted into Slytherin, he pilfered the dog from Sirius and left him with the cat.

They never discussed those plush toys again.

And when Sirius fled Grimmauld place one horrible night in June between fifth and sixth year, he left with nothing but his wand, the clothes on his back, and his school trunk.

Left behind was poor Splash the cat.

Regulus - fearing his mother would go on a warpath and completely destroy everything in Sirius’ room - quickly grabbed the cat and had kept it hidden in his school trunk ever since.

Until today. Until now.

Now, he left Splash with you; trusting that you would return him to his person, the one who needed him the most.

“How…” Sirius whispered as he quietly pulled the plush toy from the box; hands painfully gentle as if the toy would simply turn to ash should he jostle it. “Where did you get this?”

“I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re asking.” You tried to joke in an attempt to keep the moment light. Sirius simply turned his disbelieving gaze from the toy to you.

“You spoke with him?”

Suddenly, your fears that you had completely overstepped came flooding back; a nervous sort of nausea settling deep within your stomach that threatened to make this awkward moment horribly worse.

“I…I did- I didn’t say anything, of course! Because there was nothing to say, because I don’t actually know anything, which is fine too! I just…I couldn’t…well, you see, I just had to do something, you know? I couldn’t just-”

Your ramblings were (thankfully) cut off when the air nearly completely left your lungs as Sirius attached himself to your middle; his arms winding tightly around your body where they met in the middle of your back. You could feel the impression of Splash against your back from where he was still in Sirius’ grasp.

“I’m sorry if I upset you - I know it wasn’t my place, but-”

“You’re incredible.” Sirius whispered then. “I can’t believe you’d do this for me.”

“You’re not mad?” You whispered back, causing Sirius to pull away from you, only far enough to be able to look into your eyes with ill-hidden admiration.

“My sweet shy girl; approaching Slytherin’s for me.” He murmured, causing Remus and Lily to snort and James to gawk.

“You did what!?”

“You do know that a quarter of our school is made up of Slytherin’s, right?” You asked James then; Sirius pulling you back into his chest when you dared to remove your gaze from him.

“That’s entirely too many Slytherin’s, my girl.” James muttered, though he relented in his admonishment of you for your crime of daring to speak to your classmates in order to sit beside your other two lovers.

“I can’t believe he gave this to you.” Sirius whispered; holding the cat up behind your back so he could examine it over your shoulder.

“He didn’t give it to me, Sirius.” You whispered back as you pulled away from him so you could look into his eyes. “You have a lot of people in your corner; more than you know.”

His eyes seemed to well again, though he didn’t look nearly as heartbroken as he did when you first walked in, so you counted that as a win.

“What did I do to deserve you, hm?” He asked then before pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

You’re sure you could have counted at least seventeen ways in which Sirius Black deserved the nicest things you had to offer, but right now you were more focused on the feel of his lips against yours.

If love made you do crazy things, and those crazy things brought you to this; this being Sirius moulding himself to you as if he hoped he could make a home for himself inside of your soul, then you would happily spend the rest of you life mad as one could be.

You hadn’t fixed anything, not by a longshot; but you had helped, even if only just a little.

His lips tasted of salt and perhaps some sadness, but also of hope.

And for now, that was enough.

1K notes · View notes

haetrack · 5 months ago

Text

pro: love: add

hacker!haechan x afab!reader

wc: 11.6k

warnings: smut, little plot, they are PERVERTS, slight invasion of privacy, esex, masturbation, praising, degradation, overstimulation, edging, sex meetup, oral, unprotected sex (NO!), switch!haechan, switch!reader, mentions of panty sniffing, breeding, fleshlight, this is all very unrealistic and i also know nothing about hackers thank u (also this represents haechan in no way)

a/n: HAPPY BDAY TO MY SPARKLY PRINCESS!!! this is the best guy ever... hope everyone enjoys my little present :3

if you asked him how he became a member of an underground maybe-not-so-ethical kinda-not-really mafia group, he wouldn’t know what to say.

when he was younger, he took interest in the technology around him. because of this interest, he finds himself in front of his laptop, quickly hacking into some random company’s firewall for his boss. he doesn’t mess with anything else, grabbing some information of a person he doesn’t know to send off.

he puts all the information about the man in a well protected folder and sends it off. that’s really all he does. he’s someone who works behind the scenes, unlike his other group members who have a more up close hand in everything. he wouldn’t want to either way, finding the solidarity and animosity in his room to be just right.

it was easy for haechan to get used to this lifestyle. he never really had too many people to talk to before, so now he gets to make easy money in the comfort of his home without talking a lot. he can do everything in his apartment without having to go out much, either.

he yawns before closing all the windows on his screen. he’s done all the work he was assigned today, but he doesn’t know what he wants to do next. he takes his glasses off his face, hand moving to rub at his eyes before he slumps against his gaming chair. his hands fall to his lap, one of his thumbs massaging the soft skin of his inner thigh.

he smirks to himself, quickly acting on impulse as he moves to palm the front of his shorts. his cock twitches at the touch as he sighs contently at the feeling. his head rolls back against his seat, shutting his eyes as he gets hard. he bites his lip, his hand moves to slide under the waistband of his shorts and boxers-

he’s cut off by his phone buzzing loudly at the corner of the desk. he debates on not answering, but when he brings his phone close to his face, he curses. he sits up a bit before sliding his glasses back on, grumbling to himself as he answers the phone.

“what do you want, mark?”

“all i did was call you and you’re already mad,” mark huffs.

haechan rolls his eyes, “please hurry up and tell me why you called me.”

he can hear mark clear his throat, “johnny’s asking if you’ve sent that information he needs.”

haechan can feel his own mood turning sour. his tongue pokes at his cheek, “you can tell johnny that he can ask me that himself.”

it’s silent for a few moments on the other side of the call. haechan wants to scream at mark for taking so long when he could be doing other things. he feels his blood turn cold when he hears johnny’s voice, “hey, haechan? i need you to send those files before i make sure that your pay gets cut.”

“y-yeah, sorry! i just sent them a bit ago. please don’t reduce my pay, i might actually die.”

johnny laughs lightly, haechan sighing in relief at the sound, “i wouldn’t do that to you. you’re lucky that you’re funny.”

haechan cries out a thank you to him, causing the other two to laugh. he waits for them to calm down before beginning, “let me know if you need anything else. i have to go, i was a little busy before you called.”

mark’s voice sounds from the call, “doing?”

johnny interrupts, “probably something nasty.”

“no! why do you always say that?”

“what else should i expect from a guy who does shit with his computer and stays inside all day?”

haechan groans, “whatever. i’m hanging up.”

haechan is quick to turn his phone on silent before throwing it somewhere on his bed. he isn’t hard anymore, but now he’s too desperate to just ignore it. he opens a private screen on his computer before scrolling for a bit. he doesn’t want to watch porn, doesn’t want to read it, but there’s something he wants to try.

he’s heard through small forums of this website that allows you to chat with an online service that adjusts to your preferences automatically. he finds it after some time, hands slightly shaky as he presses on the link. it’s a nice looking website, stating some information before he can actually get into it. he wonders what mechanisms were used to make it. he can’t help it.

he skims through the information before clicking the start button. he’s met with the sight of an anime-looking girl, one that he’d find on hentai. the voice calls out to him, what would you like to do with me tonight?

he’s quick to type out, ive been so busy. just need someone to take care of me.

the character on the screen leans forward more, exposing more of her chest. haechan bites his lip at the sight, her voice calling out again, yeah? want me to take care of you? make you feel nice and good?

he responds with a yes, quickly shimmying out of his shorts as his cock strains in his boxers. it’s not often that he gets to talk like this with someone, even if this someone isn’t real. he’s too horny to care, not when he’s already been denied once. the character smiles at his response, groping at its chest. haechan watches closely, eyes hooded as he once again palms himself.

it must be so hard for you, right? the character says, getting bossed around all day when all you wanna do is get taken care of. i’ll do anything you want me to.

there’s a voice-to-chat option, but haechan isn’t really sure he wants to do that for his own privacy. he’ll manage to type with one hand while his other grips around his clothed length. make yourself feel good w me, want u 2 tell me when to cum.

the character agrees quickly, the screen pushing back to get its whole body in frame. it’s clad in only panties, smiling at him before speaking, are you gonna touch yourself for me? let me see how big your cock is?

he slides his boxers down just enough to get his length out. it slaps against his stomach, leaking at the tip. he didn’t realize how needy he was until now, easily wrapping his fist around his length. it’s easy for him to give in, the character’s words drifting to his ear, causing small whines to fill the air.

he tunes it all out eventually (not counting when he gets praised). he can’t stop thinking about how bad he wants to do this with someone in real life. he always says it’s because he’s too busy with his job, but he knows he can’t keep lying to himself. he pretends that sweet voice that’s calling out to him is someone real, sitting right on top of him as he gets whispered praises.

his hand wraps around his cock tighter at the thought, his hips bucking up into his fist. he licks his lips as his other hand trails up his hand, his fingers brushing over his nipple. quiet whimpers fill the air, and there’s nothing he wants more than to moan out someone’s name.

he could give everything to someone. he’d be so obsessed, practically at their beck and call. he just needs to put all this energy and desperation he has somewhere. he isn’t a loser, isn’t gross, but it’s hard to deny it all when he’s getting off to a character calling him sweet and coaxing him to an orgasm.

he bites down on his lip to stop the pathetic moan that tries to slip out. he’s not typing anymore, listening in to what the voice is telling him to do. speed up, show me how bad you need it, and all haechan can do is obey and fuck his fist faster.

sobs sound throughout his room as his fist tightens around his tip, his thumb teasing at it. he no longer cares about how loud he’s being, no longer cares about denying how pathetic he looks right now. all he wants to do is cum, wants someone to come over so he can stuff all of his cum inside of a warm pussy.

it doesn’t take much longer, cum spurting all over his fist as he pinches at his nipples, loud whimpers slipping out of him. his ears are ringing, the voice speaking to him inaudible as he rides out his high. his hips twitch when he tries to overstimulate himself, a breathy laugh slipping out of his mouth.

the character looks fucked out, cheeks red as if it came down from its own orgasm. there’s a small smirk on its face, thanking him for everything, telling him just how good he’s been. haechan lays back onto his chair, heavy breaths beginning to even out. it’s when he hears the voice speak up again:

thanks for being such a good boy, lee donghyuck.

haechan’s heart stops. what did it just say?

it was easy getting all of his information.

you don’t really tap into the chats happening on your website, but this one piqued your interest. the fake name put in sounded too familiar, something you're sure you’ve heard before. you can’t miss out on this opportunity of possibly getting to see one of the most renowned hackers.

when you dig a little deeper, you’re met with some information about him. you’d think for a hacker, he’d be a little more protective about his information. it’s all laid out in front of you, almost as if he were begging for someone- for you to find it.

you can’t help but fuck with him a little. you make the character that he’s talking to call him by his real name. that’s all you were gonna do, really, besides look over his chat (to which you find out he likes being called a good boy). you know what he’s capable of, and if this is really him, you don’t want anything to happen to you.

except, you don’t really take into account how good he is at what he does, and you’re quick to get a call from someone you don’t know. you ignore it, obviously, given the circumstance you’re in. you should block the number seeing how you’re being spammed with calls, but you can’t get yourself to. you want to see how far this can go, to see if it’s really him, and just to make fun of him a little.

after what seems like the twentieth call, you finally pick up. it sounded like he was hyperventilating for a moment, but you assume he saw that you actually answered with how quiet he got. you don’t want to talk first, none of this is really your fault. you can hear him suck in a breath before he speaks, “who are you and what did you just do?”

“well, if you got my number, i’m assuming you already know who i am.”

he’s mumbling to himself in words you can’t hear. you should be scared, but knowing he just got off on your website makes this whole thing funnier. he can’t exactly report you, either. he would have to prove how he got your number when he doesn’t even know you.

“what made you even look into my conversation?” he pauses for a bit, probably recounting the whole chat, “i wasn’t even doing anything wrong?”

“your username seemed pretty familiar to me. sounded like something i’ve definitely heard before.” you pause, letting your words sit in the air. you can hear his breath pick up, trying to pull himself together at the possible thought of being caught. you start again, “are you… 6sunfull?”

he doesn’t speak. you don’t need him to say that he is, the silence tells you everything you need to know. you speak again, “you know, for being such a good hacker, you kinda suck at hiding your information.”

“how did you even find it? if it’s how i’m thinking, then that’s like, a total invasion of my privacy!”

you laugh, “that’s crazy coming from you. isn’t your whole job all about invading other people’s privacy?”

“it’s different!” he lets out an exasperated noise, “you run a porn website, think about your customers privacy!”

you splutter out a laugh, “look, i’m not gonna report you or anything. i just think it’s funny that someone like you was begging to be taken care of.”

“how do you even know that i’m that hacker? what if i’m just a random person getting my info taken away from me?”

“one, you got my number out of nowhere. two, you knew how i got your information. you’re used to this. plus, your birthday was basically in your username.”

an annoyed sound comes from his side of the call, “all i used was a six! whatever. i don’t want to talk about this anymore. do whatever with that information.” he quickly hangs up afterwards. you can’t blame him, you would probably try to run away from this, too. he didn’t ask you to block his number either, which tells you should let him take his time.

after all, he sounded too cute to let go.

a few days pass and you haven’t heard from him.

you’ve been trying to pretend like you don’t want to text him or you don’t want him to call you, but it’s been hard. he hasn’t been back on your website, hasn’t shown any sign of thinking about you. you’re not sure why you’re so invested, but knowing that you might be one of the only people who knows who he is helps.

but today, you get a text from the same unknown number from the other night.

unknown: you’re not going to report me to the police or anything… right

you: why would i do that

knowing that he’s on his phone, you’re quick to press the call button. it rings a few times before he decides to answer, a smile beginning to form on your face. you want to start talking, but he decides he wants to speak first, “i will send you whatever amount of money you want if you don’t snitch.”

“who says snitch anymore? and it’s too embarrassing for me to go to a police station and tell them i found a hacker who was on my pornsite.”

by the tone of his voice, you can tell he’s embarrassed, “thanks, i guess…”

“you do owe me, though. for not ratting you out.”

“what do you want me to do?”

you know exactly what you want, “just for you to talk to me. i’m giving you the chance to talk to someone, donghyuck.”

you can hear him scoff on the other side, “who says i don’t talk to anyone? and don’t call me that, it’s weird. just call me haechan.”

ignoring him, you continue, “just trying to be nice. maybe next time you won’t have to use my website and instead you can just text me.”

“what?”

“only a suggestion. you don’t have to, but i’m just putting it out there. if you’re that desperate to use a pornbot, you can just use me instead.”

the words you said the other day were only meant to tease haechan.

after you finished speaking, you could hear him choke on his own breath, trying to calm himself down. you laughed it off, but you didn’t realize how much it impacted him. you played it off as a joke, trying to move on before he could think about it any further. he said he had other things to do, trying to hang up before you could continue. you hope you didn’t take anything too far.

you realize why he wanted to hang up so quickly when you’re met with a call late in the evening. lazily answering the call, you greet haechan. there’s silence on the other side of the call. you wait for him to speak, but you’re met with an airy groan as a response. your heart stops beating for a bit, and you quietly ask, “what’s wrong?”

when he speaks, it’s pitchy and breathy all at the same time, “t-thought you said… thought you said you could help me…”

did you really mean it? when you said you wanted to see how far this could go, you didn’t mean it like this. you start to mull over your options, but at your silence, you can hear the slick noise of haechan fucking his fist. the thought makes your body heat up, any thoughts you had were thrown out the window. how desperate is he to do it so openly in front of you?

it’s like he already knows that you would agree. he lets out a hushed whimper that almost sounds like your name, and you can’t help how your thighs squeeze together. you bite your lip, imagining how exactly he might look right now. you wonder why he decided to call you up, someone who’s practically a stranger, instead of someone else.

you give in out of pure curiosity, only wanting to know more about what made haechan come to you. out of the few conversations you had, he wants you to help get him off, he wants to hear your voice telling him to cum. it’s why you ask, “are you going to tell me what you’re doing right now?”

“i’m… i was thinking about what you said to me. thought about what you would say to me, how you might sound… wanted to hear your pretty voice.”

you move to your bed, laying against the headboard as you get comfortable. you slide down your shorts, squeezing your thighs once more. you can feel how uncomfortably wet you are, feeling how you clench around nothing at the sound of haechan whining.

you try to stop your voice from being so shaky before you speak, “aren’t you embarrassed? moaning like this in front of a stranger?”

you can hear the sound of him fucking his fist faster, “d-don’t care. you’ve already seen how i’m like, spying on me and all… you probably like this, too.”

you scoff into the mic, but he’s right. he’s being so shameless, but you can’t help but feed into it. you do want to make him hold out though. you want to see him beg, just like he was on the chat. just this once, you’ll give into him. you breathe out, “you just need my help, hm? just need me to take care of you and make you cum?”

he’s moaning, obviously too horny to care about how loud he’s being. he laughs a little at how your teasing him for his messages, “wanna see you cum, too. please cum with me.”

you hum, “don’t know if you deserve it, you were getting off without me.”

“please? wanna hear you and how wet your pussy is.”

you can’t help but whimper at his words, causing haechan to moan louder than you. your hand slides down over your panties, teasing yourself while haechan continues to get off on the call.

he picks up on how quiet you’re being, choosing to take over, “you’re touching yourself, too, right? stopped teasing me so much so you can touch your pretty pussy?”

you hate how much his words get to you, trying to hide your noises by biting down on your lip. he’s not even trying to be mean, he’s just rambling, saying all the thoughts he has out loud for you to hear.

“would you be mad if i said i looked up what you look like? just wanted- wanted to see how you looked like. it’s not fair that you already know how i look.”

you moan out, your fingers circling your clothed clit at his words. you don’t care about how obvious you’re being anymore, not caring how haechan could probably hear how desperate you are. if anything, the groan he lets out tells you everything you need to know.

his voice is whiny, “wanna see you, w-wanna see you cum. are you gonna cum, too? wanna see it… can i please facetime you, i just- i’m so close.”

“fuck… are you sure? aren’t you worried that-”

“no, i don’t care. promise, just need to see you. i’m gonna cum without you if you keep on-”

you hang up the call before he can finish his sentence, a smile forming on your face as a minute passes by. you quickly facetime him, greeted by the sight of the upper part of haechan’s face. his bangs brush over his eyes, which widen in shock when he realizes you called back. his head tilts back into his gaming chair, a moan slipping out at the sight of you smiling at him.

you laugh, “are you gonna let me see all of you?”

he blinks back at you, shyness seemingly taking over him, “i-i thought you didn’t wanna talk to me so i kinda… let myself cum.”

you let out an astounded laugh at his words, watching as he props his phone on his desk, showing you the mess he made. his shirt was lifted enough for all his cum to miss it, shorts tugged down as if he was rushing to touch himself. his cheeks are flushed, biting his lip as he shyly watches your reaction. you tilt your head, “do you think you can cum again?”

“only if i get to see you,” he pushes the hair out of his eyes so he can see you better. he can’t look away once you set your phone against your pillow, letting haechan drink in the sight of you. it’s almost embarrassing for you as he lets out a loud whine when he sees that you’re only wearing an oversized shirt and your panties. he pants, “you look so much better like this, needed more than just your voice.”

“yeah?” you slip a hand between your thighs, “nothing’s ever enough for you, right?”

you watch as he swipes his fingers through the cum on his stomach before wrapping his hand around his length, his hips twitching at the feeling. he’s trying to hold back his moans, trying to fight through the overstimulation as he starts moving his fist. his eyes watch you with intent, just waiting to see what you do next. “slow down if you wanna cum with me,” you sigh, “you’re gonna cum without me again.”

“yeah, sorry, just-” he hesitantly pulls his hand away from his cock, choosing to run it over his stomach. his hand pushes his shirt up, brushing his fingers over his nipples as he lets out a small whine. his eyes focus on you again, “you just look so good right now, can’t help myself.”

“really?” you ask, hand slipping under your panties to rub at your clit. you swallow down a moan, “all you wanna do is stuff me full of your cock, hm? take care of me, too?”

“yes, please. wanna do it so fucking bad. wanna fuck you full of my cum.” his eyes flutter shut, the thought being too much for him to handle. his eyes shoot open when he hears a choked whimper come out of you, realizing that you pulled your panties aside for him to see. even though it’s dark in your room, he’ll take anything he can get.

“isn’t that too much to ask from a person you barely know?”

“d-don’t act like you don’t like it. you’re just as bad as me, getting yourself off to a stranger.”

you clench at his words before giving in and teasing a finger into your cunt. all you can think about is him, the sounds of his moans and how hard his fucking his hand surrounds you. he can’t help it either, eyes glued on how your finger slides in and out of you. he debates on turning his volume all the way up when he swears he can hear how wet you are.

you slip a second finger inside, moaning at the feeling. hearing haechan whimper, your eyes focus on the screen, watching as his hand tightens around his base, stopping himself from cumming right away. you let out a shaky sigh, calming yourself down before speaking, “i’m almost gonna cum, too, just wait for me.”

“i just wanna-” his fist wraps around his tip, hips fucking into the tight space, “wanna do it for you. wanna finger you, wanna fuck you, wanna eat you out. i can do whatever you want.”

your palm rubs against your clit, your thighs beginning to shake. he sounds so desperate, just from seeing you like this. even though you’re a stranger, he can’t help but want you. everything about him screams that he’s a gross pervert, but that only draws you in more. he might just bring out the worst in you.

“you’ll let me play with you, too, right? let you fuck my mouth, let me touch you how ever i want? let everyone know that you’re mine?”

he nods quickly, moans of your name spilling out of his mouth as he tells you he’s about to cum. you feel the same, one of your hands sneaking up to pinch at your nipple. haechan’s eyes struggle to stay open, watching you get yourself off just because of him. he’s the one making you feel good, all through the sight of him and his words.

“fuck, can you show me your tits? wanna- wish i could cum all over them.”

you pull up your shirt to expose your chest, haechan cumming for the second time this night at the sight of you on display for him. his hand pinches at his nipple, matching your movements as he rides out his orgasm. you follow right after, cumming at the sight of him looking so fucked out.

haechan tries to catch his breath again, letting out a breathy laugh, “god… i should’ve taken a screenshot.”

your post-orgasm haze is ruined by his words, “why can’t you be normal and just ask for a nude later?”

“isn’t it more romantic knowing that i wanted to capture something so beautiful in the heat of the moment?”

you frown at him, watching as he pulls a tissue from his desk, wiping off the cum on his chest, “knowing you have tissues on your desk tells me that you know nothing about being romantic.”

a pout forms on his face, trying to make himself look more presentable as if he didn’t just cum right in front of you. you can’t deny that he doesn’t look good, and now that he brings his phone closer to his face, you can see just how good he looks. there’s a few moles adorning his face, tying all of his pretty features together.

he notices you staring for too long, smirking a bit, “you can’t be mean to a stranger like that! you’ll help me learn to be a little more romantic, right?”

as much as you want to say no, you’re forced to agree when you see the hopeful look in his eyes.

you’ve been talking to haechan a lot more.

he’s been telling you his interests other than coding and hacking. he lets you in on his day to day life, even when all he’s done was work. you think it’s cute how he calls you for things other than sex. you’ve gotten texts from him asking what he should eat for lunch, calls ranting about an episode from a show he’s watching. you like that he’s trying to get close to you.

you wonder if he’s ever had someone to talk to like this. even though he told you he talks to his coworkers, there’s only so much you can talk about with people you work with. especially if it’s for an underground-basically-illegal business. you try not to think about it too much, especially with how happy haechan gets when he has a chance to talk to you.

today he called you while you were in the middle of fixing a bug that was reported on your website. he didn’t text you early that morning, and you didn’t want to bother him assuming that he was busy. you weren’t expecting his call, but you welcome it.

“why are you calling me at the grocery store?”

he laughs as if it’s the most normal thing, “people call at the grocery store, it’s normal. plus, i was feeling a little lonely. who else would i have called?”

“fine. right now i’m trying to see what’s wrong with my code. someone reported today that there was something wrong with my website.”

“those poor people.”

“haechan, you were one of those ‘poor people.’”

he brushes you off, saying that he’s better than all of them now that he has you. he tells you that he’s getting a few things to make lunch for himself later. he was busy with work earlier, but he can’t tell you exactly what he was doing, not right now. it’s easy to forget that everything he does is supposed to be a secret, even from you.

“so, you’re gonna cook? you don’t seem like a good cook.”

“hey! i am a very good cook, you just have to trust me. i just needed to pick up a few things.”

you halfheartedly scan through the lines of code, not in any rush to fix anything. it wasn’t that important, not when the thought of haechan looking domestic seems to get stuck in your head. “yeah?” you hum, “wish i was there with you, wish i could try some.”

the laugh he lets out causes you to smile, not being able to fight off the effect he has on you. there’s a part of you that really does want to see him. how he might lean over the stove, his shoulders on display for you as you watch from behind. you lose your train of thought, hearing haechan grumble about them not having the right product.

“you know, if i was there, watching you cook, i wouldn’t be able to help myself.”

you can hear how his mumbling abruptly stops, catching onto the meaning of your words. if only you had facetimed him, you would’ve been able to see his face. he wouldn’t be able to hide behind his screen like he is now. you start again, “wish i could hug you from behind, maybe kiss your neck a bit if you’d let me.”

he whispers into his phone as if other people can hear you, “you’re gonna tell me this while i’m in the produce section? please calm down.”

you let out a light chuckle, “as if you don’t like it.”

“why are you trying to get me hard in a grocery store? you need to be normal.”

you shrug, forgetting that he can’t see you, “it’s your fault you take everything i say seriously.”

it’s quiet again, and you assume haechan is trying to calm himself down. you can’t help but continue, “i hope when you cook, all you can think about is my hands all over you, especially where you need me the most.”

he speaks up again, soft, just for you to hear, “say one more thing and i’ll have to jerk off in the store’s restroom.”

laughter slips out of you, unable to keep yourself serious at the thought, “in the store’s bathroom? you really are a gross pervert!”

“stop! you are, too! you like seeing me be like this!”

you can’t deny it, so you let out a dreamy sigh, “you can just show me later, instead.”

and who is he to say no to you?

you always knew that haechan had a dirty mouth.

in all of the calls you both shared together, he always managed to say something that would catch you off guard. days where he wants to fill you up with his cum, days where all he wants is for you to call him a needy slut, other days where he threatens to buy a fleshlight if he can’t fuck you soon. this is who haechan is as a person, and you find yourself following his ways.

today, though, he really can’t stop talking.

he must’ve been worked up, trying to start the call as normal as one can before he eventually breaks down. in his own words, all he wants to do is “be smothered by your pussy.” as much as you want to cringe at his words, you can’t help the way your body heats up at the thought of him only thinking about you.

“fuck, just wanna taste.”

his eyes are zeroed into how wet you are, how all he can hear is the squelch of your pussy through his headphones. all he wants for you to do is shove your fingers in his mouth, letting him get a taste of how sweet you are. “please, i could make you feel so good. i just know you taste so good, smell so good, too.”

you let out a weak moan of his name, your body needing nothing more than for him to take care of you. his eyes are dazed, watching how his hips fuck into his fist just from the sight of you. you think he might just be a little bit obsessed with you, memorizing all the points of your body just from his phone.

“i wouldn’t stop eating you out until you’re begging me. wanna feel you pull at my hair and push me away. just need it so bad, need you so bad.”

“y-yeah?” you breathe, “do i need to send you some panties in the mail? p-perverts like you like that, right?”

he lets out a fuck, gripping at his base. through the low light and the slight grain on his phone, you can see pearly cum leak out of his tip, watching him willingly ruin his own orgasm. his whole body is shivering, and even in the darkness you can see how his cheeks are pink. there’s shock written on your face, and he just lazily smirks at you, “only wanna cum good if you’re feeling good with me.”

“then show me how good i should be feeling.”

he’s quick to continue his ministrations, curses leaving his mouth as he fucks through the overstimulation, whimpers filling the air. you swear you can see a few tears leave his eyes, his back arching up for your touch, wishing that you could just reach through the screen.

“j-just wanna,” a moan cuts him off, “wanna show everyone you’re mine. wanna mark you, wanna fuck you full of my cum.”

“wanna show me off? let everyone know just how good you fuck me?”

his free hand begins pinching at his nipple, causing his hips to stutter a bit, “of course. i’d record us, watch every single time i miss you. i’d post it to your website, too. make sure everyone knows that you’re mine.”

“all they’re gonna see is how good i can fuck you, watch how i can make you all fucked out.”

“wan’ it, want it so bad.”

“you always say that you’re gonna be the one fucking me, but that’s my job, right? you’d let me use you like a little toy? taking everything i give to you?” your own movements speed up as you watch him fall apart at your words. you can’t imagine how he’d be in real life if he’s acting like this over a call.

“fuck yes. all i wanna be is yours, i’ll do whatever you ask me to.”

you can tell he’s close, hand speeding up over his cock as he writhes around in his seat. you can hear all of the sounds he’s making, wanting nothing more than to cum at the thought of you two together. however, you cut through his thoughts, “then will you stop touching yourself?”

he’s shocked when he hears you, hooded eyes looking back at yours. his hand stops moving, but he still has a tight grip on his length. a little breathlessly, he asks, “what? i- i can’t…”

you cock your head to the side, “you just said you’d do anything i ask you to do though?”

“does it have to be now? c-can’t it be next time?”

you shrug, “i’ll do whatever you want next time if you do this for me now.”

he immediately rips his hand away from his cock, placing both hands onto his thigh. you scoot back a bit on your bed, showing off the rest of your body to him. you watch his cock twitch just from the sight of you, his hands itching to make himself feel good.

your fingers circle your clit, head tilting back at the feeling. “sometimes, you just have to slow down a bit. take a real look at what’s in front of you, y’know?”

you know he’s not really paying attention when he’s slow to nod. you watch as his cock helplessly twitches on his abdomen, begging to be touched by him, to be touched by you. with how wet you are, you can slide in two fingers easily, moaning out his name. he looks so desperate, almost willing to beg for anything. “won’t you tell me how good i look?”

he runs his hands up and down his thighs, his blunt nails digging into his skin. you wanna laugh at how his cock jumps with the slight pain, haechan trying to hide the whimper he lets out. he heaves out, “l-look so good… i know you’d look even better filled up with my cum…”

you pout, “are you saying i don’t look that good right now?”

“no! i’m fighting the urge to not cum untouched just from watching you.”

you moan at the thought, your back arching up as your hips roll into your hand. your eyes focus on him, “you better hurry and touch yourself before i cum all by myself.”

he’s quick to obey, hand wrapping around his cock and setting a quick rhythm. he’s louder than you, whines and whimpers of your name being the only thing leaving his mouth. “think ‘m gonna cum… please, want you to cum with me!”

“y-yes! haechan, i’m cumming!”

your mind goes blank as you come undone, body tightening in on itself as you clench around your fingers. through blurry eyes, you can see haechan with his head thrown back, cum spurting all over his chest as he moans out your name. you think he looks the best like this, the only thing on his mind being you.

it’s quiet for a few minutes after you both come down from your highs. you’re laid down onto your bed while haechan is slumped in his gaming chair. you don’t bother to get up, enjoying the presence of haechan, even through the phone.

the silence is cut off by haechan, “i really need to get you back for edging me. do you know how mean that is?”

“i personally really liked it. i should’ve taken a screenshot of how desperate you looked. i would’ve made it my wallpaper.”

“if you say it like that, then… i wouldn’t mind. everyone would see how obsessed i am with you.”

you watch as haechan contemplates his next words, and he looks a little too serious for you to be comfortable. you want to ask if something is wrong, but he beats you to it, “did you really mean it when you said that you would send your panties to me?”

you glare at him, “in what world would i want to do that? you are so gross.”

he coos at you, “you like it though.”

“i’d only want you to see them in person. you can keep them and do whatever gross thing you want with them then.”

“are you serious about meeting in person?”

you think about it for a few moments. as much as you’d want to, there are a few things you’re worried about. even though you’ve revealed so much to him, you’re not sure how you feel about inviting him over to your place yet. you let out a small laugh, “you could just look up my address.”

“i wouldn’t do that. not to you.”

his words make you a little shy, despite the meaning behind them. for haechan, these words are tender, keeping a part of his life away from you. he wouldn’t hurt you like that. it brings you relief, and it only makes it harder for you to hide the feelings that begin to grow inside of you.

you both think about what options you have. there’s only so much desire you can hold back before the urge to really meet him takes over. you throw an idea out, “how about we both meet at a selected place?”

“like a hotel?”

your eyes shine at his suggestion, “exactly! i forget how smart you are.”

his tongue pokes the inside of his cheeks, “only for you, baby.”

you threaten to end the call because of the pet name.

(he begs for you to stay on call with him.)

(you say yes.)

you spend the next few weeks planning out a trip where you can both meet.

the both of you figure out a place that’s convenient for the both of you, some kind of middle point where you can choose a hotel. haechan says he can pay for it all, willing to splurge a little more if it’s for you. it’s easy for you to agree, not willing to argue with a man who probably has way more money than he lets on.

there’s a lot of things that you’re nervous about when you start packing for the trip. you hope haechan is as nice as he lets on in person. you could end up not liking him by the end of this trip. what if he doesn’t like you? what if you do something weird and he doesn’t like you anymore?

it dawns upon you that he’s haechan.

all of the days leading up to this, where you both talk for as long as you can, it’s obvious how much he likes you. he spends a lot of his free time with you, even if he’s doing something else. it’s safe for you to say that you feel the same way. you can only hope that this trip shows the feelings that have been building up.

it’s really nothing that you should be worried about. as the days lead up, you both talk about how excited you are. haechan says as soon as he gets you alone, he’ll be pressing you against the wall, kissing you until you beg him to do something. you say that that will most likely not be happening, but you like his confidence anyways.

the actual traveling day isn’t so bad. you don’t have to wake up too early, and you already prepared everything you need from the night before. you recount everything you need to do before heading out, letting haechan know that you’re already on the way. he’s quick to respond, telling you that he beat you by already leaving his house before you. you thumbs down his text.

after a few hours of traveling, you make it to the hotel. a grimace forms on your face when you see the fancy-looking hotel, wondering just how much haechan paid for the both of you. you arrive a bit earlier than scheduled, but it’s not too crowded in the lobby, so you sit down before texting haechan.

you: i just got here

you: are you close or

haechan: im nearby so u can just wait for me

haechan: literally gonna shit my pants when i see u

you quietly laugh at his text before reacting to it with a thumbs down. you scroll through your phone for a few minutes as you try to calm your heart down. you’re not really paying attention to the screen, moreso trying to convince other people that you’re not currently trying not to die from nervousness.

it’s ten times worse when he texts you that he made it to the hotel. you shut off your phone, grabbing your bags before standing up. your eyes are focused on the entrance, biting your lip with every moment that passes.

you let out a breath when he walks in, relaxing at the sight of haechan walking in. he looks equally as nervous as you did, eyes nervously flicking across the lobby. it’s when he hears you calling his name that he looks at you, a small smile painting his face.

any worries that you had from before fade away as you walk towards him, a grin on your face as you drop your bags to hug him. he jumps a little in your hold, his arms hesitating slightly when he hugs you back. it’s weird to be able to feel him after so long, you never would’ve expected this to happen.

“haechan,” you breathe out, “i’m so glad you got here.”

he holds you a little tighter, “me too. i… i can’t believe you’re actually real…”

you laugh at his comment, noticing something different, “i didn’t know you wear glasses?”

“stop, it’s embarrassing…” he mutters shyly, “just wanted to make sure i can see you good.”

you pull away from him, asking if he’s ready to check in now that he’s here. you make it over to the front desk. the person at the desk is subtly trying to text on their phone, quickly turning it off and around once you clear your throat. they smile, “how can i help you?”

you let them know that you’re checking into a room for two people. once you get asked for the payment, haechan fishes around for his card somewhere in his bag. it takes a few moments, the receptionist staring at you two. it’s almost as if they can see how this is your first time meeting each other.

you focus on the polaroid on the back of their phone, a picture of them with a man with a bright smile and dark hair. you break away once they give you the room keys, “let me know if you need anything else.”

you thank them before grabbing everything, heading to the elevator. no one speaks when you two enter, no one else in the elevator but the both of you. you can see haechan’s fingers twitch at his sides before choosing to wrap an arm around you. a small laugh leaves you, easily leaning into his side, pressing a small kiss to the skin of his neck. you laugh harder when he shakes at the feeling.

he pulls away from you once you make it to your floor. your body is buzzing every second you’re apart from him, wondering why he isn’t all over you like he said he’d be. his hand is shaking when he messes with the key, opening the door and stumbling in.

the room is big, one large bed for the both of you. haechan laughs as you drop your bags to plop yourself into bed. you look back at him expectantly, watching as he cautiously puts his bags down and sits next to you in bed. you place your hand on his thigh to pull yourself up close to his face, your noses almost touching.

you can hear his breath hitch, how his eyes move to look at your lips, a faint blush forming on his cheeks. you cock your head to the side, “don’t you wanna kiss me? like you said you would?”

he licks his lips, “i… will you- will you let me?”

you do it for him. you press your lips against his, leaning into his body. his hand moves to hold your waist, gripping too tightly before he decides to hover his hand over your side. the kisses are slow at first, getting used to each other. his lips are soft against yours, his hand deciding to move up to cup your face instead.

haechan gains a bit more confidence as he moves his lips faster against yours. he’s quick to whine against your mouth, tongue licking against your lips. it’s almost embarrassing how fast you are to give into him, feeding into his desperation. you can feel how his hand feels clammy against your face, your hand moving to intertwine with his.

when you pull away to catch your breath, you laugh at how his glasses have fogged up. he whines in embarrassment, moving to sit himself against the headboard of the bed. he spreads his legs a bit, inviting you to sit on his thighs. you crawl over to him, an innocent smile on your face as he watches your every movement.

as you place yourself on his thighs, you look down on him, his pretty eyes looking up to yours. your hand places itself on his cheek, tracing along the moles that you always found yourself staring at. he leans into your touch, mumbling more to himself, “i never thought i’d get to have you like this…”

“we have all the time in the world now,” you lean down to give him a peck on his lips, “we can do anything we want.”

his hands are hesitant when they hold you by your waist, bringing your body closer to his. he sits you right on top of his bulge, feeling how he’s already hard from just some kissing. you giggle to yourself, letting your chest press against his as you kiss him again. one of his hands slip under your shirt, hand warming the skin at your side.

his hips begin to shift under yours, his hand trailing higher and higher before it stops at the cup of your bra. he pulls away from you a bit, his hooded eyes and puffy lips letting you know what he wants. you nod at him before kissing him, his hand moving to cup your chest. his other hand joins, both hands now groping at your covered chest.

he licks into your mouth, hands moving harder against you. you can feel his cock poking against your thigh, smiling into the kiss. your hand slips under the waistband of his sweats and boxers, touching his leaking tip. his whole body has a reaction, head tilting back as he lets out a moan. he tries to swat away your hand, and you try to argue, “i wanna make you feel good, too.”

“b-but i’ll-” a whimper leaves him this time, “i’ll cum if you keep touching me like that-”

you try to hold back your laugh, ultimately failing when you see the embarrassed look on his face. he whines before grabbing both of your wrists, pushing you down flat on your back. he hovers over you, eyes filled with desperation as he openly stares at you. his hands tug at the hem of your shirt, asking for permission to take off your shirt.

you agree, watching him slide it off of you with your help. he’s met with the sight of your bra, hands shakily moving to take hold of your chest. he touches you how he likes, a dazed look on his face as he gets more greedy. “you don’t know how much i thought about this… just wanted to touch you here so much…”

your hands fumble to undo the clasps at the back, sliding your bra off so haechan can get a better look. he moans unabashedly, immediately moving to mouth at the valley of your chest. he’s leaving marks as he pleases, making it to your nipple and sucking harshly. his other hand pinches at the other nipple, causing you to let out choked whimpers.

your legs twitch at his hips, forcing him to stay in between your legs. you can feel how his hips grind down, mindlessly chasing his own pleasure. “you can probably get yourself off just like this, right? i can see you humping the bed.”

“fuck, i can’t help it. you’re so hot,” he mumbles against your skin, “i could make you feel good all day, that’s all i need.”

as if something goes off in his mind, he’s quick to begin trailing kisses down your body. your skin jumps at the feeling, his eyes peering up at yours. he unbuttons your shorts and pulls them down, not caring how rough he’s being. it’s quiet in the room when he sees you in just your underwear, his heavy breaths filling the air. his nose nuzzles against the seat of your panties, a chill running up your spine when you can feel him breathe in deeply.

he slowly pulls your panties down, his eyes zeroed in on your core. he holds the panties in his hands, looking back at you, “you said you’d let me keep these, right?”

you laugh at him, feigning disgust when he asks, “you’re so gross! but i did make a promise, right?”

there’s a giddy look on his face when he pushes them away for later. he focuses on what’s more important, your open legs inviting him to where he’s been fantasizing the most. he settles down between your thighs again, pressing quick kisses to your inner thighs. he feels them try to close in on him, one of his hands moving to keep one leg pried open.

he takes a breath before looking at your core. he swipes a finger down your slit before sticking in his mouth. a moan follows, “you taste so sweet. fuck, it’s better than i imagined…”

it takes no time for him to press a kiss to your clit, sucking lightly as you let out a low moan. it’s easy for him to bring you closer to his face, spreading your cunt apart with his thumbs as his tongue licks at your entrance. all you can hear is how loud he’s being, the slurps of him against your cunt and the moans he’s letting out get to your head.

his tongue focuses at your entrance, switching between sticking the tip of it in your entrance and licking up at the slick that comes out. his thumb circles your clit, pressing hard against it causing you to twitch in his hold. his hand gives up on trying to keep your leg open, choosing instead to move up and tug at your nipple.

your thighs begin to shake around his head, feeling his fluffy hair tickle your thighs. when his tongue moves to tease your entrance again, you clench around it. he moves slightly away, eyes gazing up at you in wonder, lips and chin glossy with how wet you are. he licks his lips, “are you-”

you cut him off, “fingers- i need your fingers, haechan.”

he’s quick to comply, moving back to his original spot. his mouth replaces his thumb, now choosing to suck on your clit. there’s a finger at your entrance, slowly pushing in. he grunts against you when he feels you clench again, tongue flicking at your clit. your hands shoot to his hair, threading through the strand as your hips rut against his face.

it’s when you feel his glasses bump against your skin that he lets out an irritated noise. you open your eyes fast enough to see him pull away from you, quickly ripping his glasses off his face and moving right back to your pussy. you wail when he doesn’t add another finger, “n-need more, haechan, please.”

he nods against you, not pulling away as he adds another finger. all the air in your chest leaves as he curls them inside you, hitting spots that you could never reach on your own. he chuckles against you, “who knew that you can be this messy just from me eating you out? made you wait so long, didn’t mean to, baby.”

your hands tighten around some strands of his hair, causing him to whimper against you. the bed shakes a little when his hips grind against the bed. he chuckles lightly, “n-need you to cum already or else i’m gonna cum just by grinding against the bed.”

“keep going and i’ll cum soon. right there, haechan, please.”

your hands press his face closer to you, no longer obstructed by his glasses. his tongue teases your clit, giving you just enough stimulation to have you whining. he can tell you’re close just by how you’re clenching around his fingers. when he looks up at you, his heart beats a little faster with how good you look, and it’s all because of him. he moans out, “god, you’re so perfect, everything about you is so-”

he’s cut off by your moan, your orgasm crashing into you, clenching hard down onto his fingers. he helps you ride through it, fucking his fingers into you until you start pushing his head away from you. he laughs before you take his wet fingers into your mouth, cleaning them up as you stare right at him.

he’s quiet now, no words coming out of him as you move to peel off his sweats. you eye how hard he is in his boxers, hand moving to palm his clothed cock. he whines, just like before, “please don’t. i will seriously cum right now if you keep on touching me.”

you blink at him, “what’s so wrong with that?”

“wanna do it inside your pretty pussy.”

you lean up to press your lips against his again. it’s desperate this time, tongues moving against each other as haechan holds you close to him. it only takes a bit of grinding against his cock before he breaks, standing up to clumsily pull his boxers and shirt off. in the meantime, you situate yourself against the pillows, haechan practically pouncing on top of you.

he teases his tip along your slit, tapping it lightly against your sensitive nub. you hiss, your hands reaching for his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. he lets out a hushed whimper at the pain, cheeks red when you let out a laugh. you sigh out to him, “i needed this more than you can imagine. somehow i couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

he presses a kiss to your collarbone, and you can feel how he smiles against you, “what do you mean ‘somehow?’ i like to think that you’re just as obsessed with me as i am with you.”

he teases your entrance with his tip, causing you both to moan. you breathe out, “i can’t believe i let some loser hacker get me like this. you should be glad.”

“i’m the best one in this world, y’know? now tell this loser hacker how much you want him.”

you whine out his name, “please don’t tease… i know you want this as bad as i do, i can feel your cock twitching against me. just wanna feel you deep in me. i know you want it, too.”

he bites his lip to hold back a moan, his body betraying him when his hips push against yours. “a-alright, i know, baby. i’ll make sure to make the both of us feel good, okay? you ready?”

you nod, reaching up to give him one last kiss. you watch as he lines himself up at your entrance, his eyes losing focus. he pushes in slowly, your head pushing into the pillows as you moan out his name. he’s thick, your walls trying to adjust to his size as his head falls to your shoulder, his warm breath hitting your skin.

once he bottoms out, he looks down to see where he’s buried deep inside you. he lets out a whimper, his arms weak as he tries to hold himself up. he lets out a shaky breath, “i don’t- i don’t think i’ll last long…”

“i-it’s okay, just go slow. i can wait-”

he pushes his cock deeper inside you, “no i can- i can move just-”

he feels you clench around his cock for the first time, your walls sucking him in deeper. it’s all too much for him, your warm cunt and your needy little face is just too much. he can’t help it when his cock throbs inside of you, cum shooting deep inside your cunt without any warning. he falls on top of you, biting down on your shoulder to try to hide out the loud whimpers he’s letting out.

you’re not too surprised with how long he’s been holding himself out. he was even teasing himself, grinding against the bed when he was eating you out. you soothe him, hands running up and down his back as he lets out soft cries. you’re fine with it ending here, there’s still much more time you have together.

except, haechan pushes himself back up, cheeks red and eyes filled with tears as he fucks his cock into you again. he lets out a hiss, eyes fluttering shut at the overstimulation biting at him. you can feel how messy it all is, some of his cum slipping out of you and helping him fuck you.

he’s slow at first, trying to will away the pain. you’re louder than him right now, his cock hitting every spot inside you. you can’t help but wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. you cry out to him, “thank you, haechan. fuck, i feel so full!”

whining at your words, he quickens his pace, the pain bleeding into pleasure. “never thought i’d be able to feel you like this, so i-” a moan leaves him when your nails dig into his back, “i couldn’t help myself, had to cum- need to cum inside you.”

“felt so good, i didn’t care. wanna feel you cum again, wanna cum with you this time!”

“i’ll make sure you do, baby.”

he’s so sensitive right now, tears nearly prickling his eyes as he fucks you. he can’t seem to care though, not when your warm walls are clenching around him. not when you call out his name like he’s the only thing you need. how could he care when you’re the only thing he wants in his life?

“you know, i couldn’t stop thinking about this on the ride here. h-had to stop myself from getting hard in a taxi because of you.”

“y-yeah? needed you just as much, touched myself last night because i wanted you so bad.”

he whines at the thought of you stuffing your fingers in your cunt, moaning out his name just because of him. he can feel you shaking under him, wanting nothing more than to cum. “i’m here for you now, gonna give you everything you need. gonna stuff you full of my cum again.”

your hands bring his head down to kiss you, your hands softly supping his cheeks as you do. your fingers wipe away at the nearly dried tears, bringing him as close to you as possible. when you pull away for air, he moans out, “came so many times to the thought of having you like this. fuck, all i’m gonna be able to think about is you falling apart on my cock.”

you nod, because he’s all you can think about right now. you can’t think anymore, he’s taken up all of your senses. all you can do is moan out his name, letting him fuck you in the way that he’s always wanted. “haechan, ‘m so close, please-” you cry, “need you to make me cum, wanna cum on your cock.”

he can barely put a sentence together, “yeah, fuck, gonna cum on my cock? gonna show me how bad you need me? have your pussy milk me of all my cum?”

his hand reaches down to rub at your clit, urging you to cum. “i can’t hold back anymore, baby,” you can feel him throb inside you, “need you to cum, let me cum with you.”

that’s all it takes for you to let out a whimper of his name, cries falling from your mouth as he fucks you to an orgasm. with how you’re squeezing his cock, it doesn’t take long for him to cum again, a high pitched whimper joining your sounds. he cums inside, fucking his sensitive cock inside you to ride out your orgasm.

he collapses on top of you, hot and sweaty as his breaths mix in with yours. you’ve never heard him this quiet, basking in your warmth as he enjoys the haze he’s in. you don’t bother moving, even as he starts to soften inside you. he nuzzles himself against your chest, pressing small kisses on your skin. his voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, “thank you for everything. i mean it.”

you let out a faint laugh, “that’s sweet. i didn’t realize you could be this nice. thank you for giving me a chance.”

“i told you i was romantic. you were just too obsessed with me to notice.”

“you’re weird,” you scoff.

“you like it.”

“i do.”

when you both have time, you take turns on choosing places you both want to go to. haechan always offers to pay for any traveling fees, laughing when you suggest he’s practically your sugar daddy. after many months of meeting like this, it’s easy for you to confess to him. it’s even easier for him to wrap you in his arms, a kiss pressed to your cheek as he tells you feels the same way.

now, you’re both due for another trip. there was more of a wait between now and your last trip, finding yourself just as busy as haechan. when you finally have time to yourself, you realize that it’s your turn to choose a place to visit. you find yourself looking at a quieter city to indulge both you and haechan’s homebody trait.

of course, haechan makes it possible for you both to head over. when you had originally brought up the city, haechan showed some hesitance. when you question him, he responds with, “well… i have a friend over there.”

you ask if you can meet his friend, and after some thinking, haechan decides it’s okay for you two to meet.

when you both walk around the city, exploring the shops they have to offer, you can tell haechan’s mood shifts. his eyes begin to scan around the small crowds of people, making sure no one is looking too hard at the both of you.

when you make a turn to another street, you’re met with a bigger shop, right in the middle of a junction. haechan stops you from going any further, letting you know that this is where his friend works. you eye the store, realizing that it’s a jewelry store. he takes your hand in his before stepping in, opening the door for the both of you.

he calls out to someone named mark, waiting near the entrance as you look around. there’s gold jewelry on display and other antiques all throughout the store. before you can ask haechan what this place really is, a man who looks just as young as haechan steps out, his confused face morphing into one of giddiness.

“it’s been forever, man! and is this- is this who you’ve been talking to me about?”

“shut up!” haechan whines, looking back towards you, “this is mark, someone who i work with.”

while mark is complaining about how they’re more than just coworkers, everything is hitting you all at once. you completely forgot that haechan works with other people, and you fully believed everyone else to be hackers. you wonder what a man in a jewelry store contributes to a group overall. you don’t bother asking now, not trying to ruin the reunion of two friends.

it’s nice watching haechan talk to someone he’s comfortable with. you see a lot of him that you don’t normally see. you let them talk, joining in when mark tells you something to embarrass haechan. it never works out in mark’s favor, though, haechan immediately spilling mark’s secrets to you.

time passes by quickly in the store, mark telling you stories that have happened to him while taking care of the place. eventually, mark gets a call from the store’s phone, pulling him away from both you and haechan.

when the call ends, he sighs and looks at the both of you, “i have to go pick something up from this guy. will you guys be okay if i leave you here for a bit?”

you both nod, watching mark pick up a few things before getting ready to leave. he turns back suddenly before walking out, eyes narrowing at your boyfriend, “no funny business, haechan. i mean it.”

haechan raises his hands in defense, a sickly sweet smile on his face as he tells mark that there’s nothing he should be worried about. mark shakes his head and tells you both goodbye when he walks out. you both watch him walk away from the store, out of his sight.

it’s quiet for a few moments before haechan speaks, “do you think we can fuck in here?”

“haechan! where would we even do that? there’s cameras in here and the whole front is made of glass!”

you watch his eyes glance over the store before watching them land on the door labeled staff only. when you turn to look at him, he’s smiling at you innocently, as if you don’t already know what he’s thinking. you groan, “if you’re alright with a quickie, then okay.”

he takes no time to drag you inside the small staff room, locking the door behind him as he smirks at you, “let’s hurry before mark comes back.”

with haechan, you come to realize that you’re willing to do anything he wants.

a/n: JESUS i wrote this way too fast and now i have to stay away from google docs for at least a week... but anything for haechan... happy bday to that guy... ALSO THANK U TO @hrts4doie FOR BETA READING HEHE...

tags: @hxxchxn @sourkimchi @hcheach @axo-l0tl @hazyhae @taexoxosgf @hyuckdolle

#nct fic #nct smut #nct x reader #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #haechan fic #haechan smut #haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines

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churipu · 11 months ago

Note

I love you so so much omg ur posts, ur content, un vibe everything. you’re so so nice and yet you have me crying over every single post because of how good this is. Like yesterday i had a whole debate talking to myself abt how good of a person you were and how the likes were not doing you justice.. usually I never send requests mostly because i’m scared they take a look at it and be like “you cannot be srs”. Idk if it makes sense but oh well😭😭

can i request u make a scenario where the reader is insecure and worried their partner is going to leave them for someone prettier but they dont say anything and just start to distance themselves from them from how big of a toll it was taking on the reader? thank you sm😭🫶🏽

YOU BEING INSECURE + JJK MEN

featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, sukuna ryomen x reader

warning. cursing

note. ANON YOU'RE SO SWEET OMG BRB SOBBING HAVE ABIG FAT KISS, and i love this request so much, you don't have to worry <33 thank you for requesting my love, sorry it took so long :')

GOJO SATORU. even if gojo didn't seem like the type to be aware of his surroundings — he is very much aware. behind those blindfolds and dark glasses, his eyes darts everywhere, making sure everything is fine. even if one small thing is different to his eyes, he'll notice.

so when you began distancing yourself from him, he notices off the bat. but decided to say nothing just to make sure of it, gojo did not want to jump into conclusions. it started off as you telling him that you're busy to go on dates, or even declining his offers when he wanted to come over to your place.

he didn't think much of it until it visibly worsened, you looked miserable. when he sees you, it was like the shine in your eyes have gone away — gojo didn't know what happened, but he automatically assumed that he was behind the disappearance of it. when he asks you if you were okay, you brushed him off with a forced out smile, and he was dying to push you to just tell him everything.

but he didn't. he was afraid that if he'd push you, it would spiral an argument. for a while, he was walking on eggshells around you, you were like a ticking time bomb ready to blow up at any minute.

it was gnawing internally in gojo's mind, what did he do? what happened to you? what happened to y/n?

his y/n.

so when shoko drops the bomb on him, asking if he had broken up with you. gojo was mortified, is that what it looks like to other people? him and you calling it off? he was terrified, scared, nervous. the strongest sorcerer. yeah — he was scared.

and so he felt like it was a now or never situation.

"y/n, can we talk?"

you grimaced at his soft voice, wondering if this is the part where he's had enough and decided he'd leave you. but you nodded your head, your mind was ready, you were ready to hear it, those words: "i want to break up with you."

"please talk to me. i can't do this whole...you avoiding me, tell me what's bothering you...please." the desperation in his voice was visible, almost as if he was in the verge of tears.

his cerulean eyes were filled with such hopelessness, one you've never seen even when he was fighting a curse. you widened your eyes and inhaled sharply, "i...i'm sorry, satoru."

that was all you managed to muster up and gojo was clueless, he needed more answers, he needed answers to why you were like this, "baby, i don't... is it me? did i do anything wrong to you? please tell me, don't run away.. let me make it up to you."

it pained you to see that he thinks it was him, when it was you behind this. you shook your head, "'s not you 'ts me."

and that made gojo even more terrified than he already is, a lot of questions spiraling in his mind, did you find someone else? did you get bored of him? were you finally breaking up with him because of his constant bothering? so many questions.

"i just...there're so many more people prettier than i am. i just can't stop thinking about it. you leaving and all. 'm sorry i distanced myself from you." when you said that, gojo felt like half of his questions were all useless and he felt a bit relieved to finally get an answer to his speculations.

gojo wasted no time pulling you into his embrace, he needed it, you needed it. both of you needed it just as much, you felt so small in his embrace, head buried into his chest. gojo didn't move a bit, fearing if he moved at all — you'd break, you looked so fragile and so dainty, it scares him.

"i..love you so much." was all he could say,

"'ts you, 'ts you that i love. it hurts me to hear you talk like that." you felt like shit, you really do — so you said nothing back, you kept your face hidden in his chest.

and gojo didn't pry you away, he just needed to be close to you, "sorry."

that was when he pulled away, "you don't have to be sorry, but please talk to me, 'ts not fair if we're happy together and you have to be sad alone.." you hated crying in front of people, especially gojo, and he knew that about you.

so when you cried in that moment, gojo knew this wasn't something light — he didn't need any more explaining from you, he was just there by your side the whole night. and the next day. the next week. month. year. both of you never spoke of it again.

he's in love with you and nobody could change that, he thinks you're the prettiest anyways.

NANAMI KENTO. nanami's eyes are always on you. nobody else. and everyone knows that.

everyone except for you, unfortunately.

usually he comes home and you were always there to greet him, with a hug and kiss. it was an inseparable combo he made a routine, but for the past couple of days — he hasn't been getting that.

instead, he was greeted with silence. and just from the second time, he knew that something was definitely wrong with you. he'll find you curled up in bed, under the covers like it was the only thing that mattered in the world; but he tries to see it as a sign of exhaustion.

nanami watches your every move, for the past couple of days. you have been out of it. to the point where it was plain obvious and nanami tries asking about it, but you tell him it was just because of the stress. a sweetheart he is, he tries telling you to get some rest from work — he'd even excuse you if it's needed, but you tell him that wasn't needed and that you were fine.

obviously lying. he could see it, smell it, hear it.

it was suffocating. everything was suffocating to you, it's like everything was slowly masticating on every fiber in your body. you wanted to just, drop down and cry but whenever you try to, you just end up sitting on the floor blankly staring at nothing.

it scares yourself sometimes how empty your eyes look.

you wouldn't be surprised if nanami didn't come back home one day because he's so fed up — that's what you've been planting in you. that nanami would leave you for prettier people, for people who don't overthink, people who are generally better than you.

"y/n?"

oh. you didn't even hear him come home, you sat on the bedroom floor trying to push yourself up. and you couldn't even do that, so when nanami opens the bedroom door, seeing you on the floor — he said nothing, not even a hello.

nanami just scoops you into his arms and lays you down on the bed mutely, his slender fingers brushing your hair, "i love you," he murmurs quietly.

that was enough to make tears dwell up at the corner of your eyes, and he said nothing, grazing your tears away, "'m sorry. 'm so sorry, kento."

nanami didn't understand why you were apologizing, he hushed you, cradling you in his embrace as you let your tears free fall, "why are you sorry?"

that's when it struck you, why were you apologizing?

nanami didn't question you any further but he held you close, pressing chaste kisses onto your forehead, "is something in your mind?" you nodded slowly, "do you want to tell me about it?"

you nodded, inhaling sharply, "i just don't feel pretty enough...i feel like you deserve better than me, ken."

nanami laced your fingers with his, kissing your knuckles, "why do you say such things?" you didn't answer him, and it just breaks his heart even more, "you're perfect for me."

his words fall into deaf ears, but you didn't continue saying your worries, you just feel like nanami gets a gist of it. nanami didn't leave your side, cradling you in his arms like you're the most fragile being, "i love you," he kissed your forehead, "so much," and he kisses your lips.

nanami makes sure to spend every second telling you how much he loves you, telling you how beautiful you are, and how you're the most perfect for him.

SUKUNA RYOMEN. he hates it when you ignore him without any explanations, he's told you before, "if you have anything to say, say it to my face, don't ignore me."

but this feels like something you couldn't tell him, how you feel. it's obvious that you were distancing yourself from him, when he calls you, you sometimes pretend like you didn't hear him — and when he confronts you later, you tell him that you just didn't hear his calls.

"you're ignoring me, hm?"

"what? no— i just didn't hear you calling out to me."

don't even try to lie to him because he will always confront you about it, he sees right through you and your lies. the second time you try to run away from him when he calls out to you, he wastes no time holding you in place; confronting you right at that moment.

"why're you running away, brat?"

"i...oh, i didn't realize you were here, ryo." sukuna clicks his tongue in mere annoyance — what a bad actor you are, it's so ridiculous sukuna wanted to just burst out into laughter.

"bullshit. why're you avoiding me?"

that was it. you were cornered just like that. sighing, there isn't any way out unless you tell him — sukuna just won't let you go unless you tell him everything behind your recent behaviors.

"just don't feel pretty enough for you," you mutter out, avoiding his sharp gaze, "i feel like you can do much better than me. you deserve better than me."

sukuna gave you nothing but a mere smirk, pushing his lips onto yours. god, he didn't want to admit it — but he hates the way you talk shit about yourself, if he could tell you everything that he loves about you, he would. but he didn't because he's a jackass (and he's too shy to tell you that).

"that's it?" that's it? that's it?

you were about to push him away when he gives you that glare of his, "which person has been making you think like that?"

"no one. me."

he flicks your forehead, "then stop."

if only it was that easy, you grumbled at his response, and said nothing else so you could just leave. but sukuna, despite his ignorant answers always makes sure that you never run away from him anymore, he's a lot more touchy than usual — and he (tries) to compliment you and your appearance.

keyword: tries

he fails at it though. but you gave him kudos for trying, that's all that matters, really. that he makes you feel loved.

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ariesangelxo · 6 months ago

Text

mornings - part two

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

cw: more angst, still no comfort (i promise it’s coming in the next part), heartbreak, one mention of panic attacks, prescription benzo use, recreational coke use, drinking, arguing, mention of a gun and a gunshot at the end, not proofread lol

an: thank u all SO SO much for all of the love on part one !!! i am blown away and in awe. there also will be a part three for sure <3

part three

the past twenty-six days had not been kind to you. your mornings were spent rotting away in bed until your mom would force you to get up, her expression of concern always made you feel even worse. your days weren’t much better, you forced yourself to detach from your heart and numb your emotions. it was the only way you knew how to keep going. you put on a mask during the day with your parents, giving them occasional smiles and laughs that weren’t the kind that warmed their hearts. they knew you weren’t okay, but they also knew they couldn’t force you to talk about it or you’d shut down completely. your nights consisted of taking a benzodiazepine in order to fall asleep, you couldn’t sleep without them. you tried, it only led to intense panic attacks and hysterical sobs that made your mother’s heart break in front of you.

this morning had been a bit different. you were awakened when you felt a weight in your bed, and in the haze of waking up you initially thought it was rafe. you shot up the moment you remembered everything, eyes widening and heart racing, but you looked over to see sarah in your bed. "oh my god, sarah you scared the hell out of me!" you exclaimed, holding a hand over your chest.

she let out a giggle, "i'm sorry, your mom let me in. i miss you," her tone was gentle. you had become very close with sarah during your relationship with rafe. being over at the cameron's house so often led to a beautiful friendship forming between the two of you. she was like a sister to you, something you cherished deeply as you didn't grow up with a sister.

you felt a pang of guilt in your chest at her words. you knew she missed you, she'd messaged you every single day since your break up without fail, even if you didn't always text back. you had seen her a couple times, but when she asked about what happened, you told her you weren't ready to talk about it. sarah was incredibly understanding, knowing how much you loved her brother and not wanting to push you too far.

"i miss you too, sar. i'm sorry i've been such a shit friend lately." you responded to her. you gave her a small smile, curling up next to her as she sat against your headboard.

"it's okay, i know you're not doing great with everything going on right now," she trailed off with a sad smile, "but, you're going out with me tonight!" she became animated as she spoke.

you didn't have it in your heart to deny her, not when she looked at you like you were the most important person in her world. "you know i can't say no to you. where are we going?" you asked curiously.

"there's going to be a huge party at the boneyard, and you're coming with me. no ifs, ands, or buts." she giggled out, "i need to get you out of your room, you're rotting away in here, babe."

"god, you sound just like my mother," you teased back. "i'll go though, i miss you more than you know. i even miss the pogues a bit." you both laughed, referencing her newer relationship with john b.

you couldn't prevent your curiosity from getting the better of you, "how- how has he been?"

sarah bit her lip, debating internally how much to tell you. "he's been... not great. i don't see him much when i'm home, he's usually in his room with the door shut. he's been a lot more moody too, snapping at literally everyone in the house. it probably didn't help that i told him he's an idiot and he fucked up the best thing to ever happen to him."

you couldn't suppress the laugh that slipped through your lips or the slight satisfaction you felt knowing that you weren't the only one struggling. "i love you sar. thank you." you leaned over, giving her a hug.

"i love you too. now get your ass up and shower. we're getting you a new outfit for the party."

you spent the next few hours strolling through the streets of figure eight with sarah. your arms held multiple shopping bags, filled with clothes she insisted you needed for tonight. you were incredibly grateful that she had forced you out of bed, you actually felt human for the first time since everything happened.

you found yourself in a small cafe, giggling as sarah told you a story from one of her drunken adventures with the pogues.

“you know… you should talk to jj tonight. i know he thinks you’re hot.” sarah gave you a mischievous smile as she wiggled her brows.

“funny,” you rolled your eyes playfully at her, “but it’s way too soon for me to get into anything with anybody right now.”

“i didn’t mean start dating him, i just think you would have fun together.”

“i just- i don’t know, sar. i’ve been such a wreck these past few weeks… can i tell you what happened?” you looked up from your fingers to meet her eyes, now widened with shock.

“yeah, of course you can. but don’t feel like you have to if you don’t want to.”

you were grateful for her support, going into your explanation of how the last couple months of your relationship, rafe’s behavior changed drastically. sarah hung on to your every word, needing to know exactly what led to the end of your relationship.

“and so i walked into the country club to surprise him. i spent the whole morning getting ready, did my makeup how he likes, even wore a new sundress that i know he would have loved. but i walked in and…” you looked up as your vision began to blur, “he was talking with some bitch i’ve never seen before bartending. she had short brunette hair, but he fucking smirked at her the way he only does- did for me. and- and then, she basically fucking held his hand while she fucked him with her eyes, and he let it happen!”

you spit the words out like they were poison on your tongue, not noticing your voice beginning to raise with frustration. sarah’s jaw was nearly on the floor.

“what the- what the fuck?” she racked her brain, trying to remember if she’d seen anyone matching your description recently, but nothing came to her.

“god, shit. i’m so sorry, babe. i don’t know what the fuck is wrong with him.” she attempted to console you as you dabbed your eyes with a napkin.

you shrugged your shoulders, “what’s done is done. i just want to forget about everything for a while.”

she nodded, “then let’s go get ready. we can pregame at yours and ride with john b and them.”

after a few shots, a couple hours spent transforming yourself to not look like you spent the last three weeks trying to cope with your break up, and a lot of laughter, you and sarah were ready to go.

you wore a cropped loosely crocheted white sweater over your pink bikini and a white miniskirt that hugged your hips , the strings from your bottom peaking out from the top of it. you were finally feeling good about yourself again, and you’d be damned if you let anyone ruin it.

the ride to the boneyard only lifted your spirits more. it was impossible not to laugh around the pogues, especially when jj did whatever he could to hear your giggle.

you arrived just as the party was beginning to pick up. relief flooded your veins when you didn’t see rafe anywhere. you knew it was a possibility he’d be here, but it was going to be significantly easier to have a decent night without his presence lingering around.

you filled up a red solo cup at the keg, downing the cheap alcohol before refilling it.

“slow down there, or you might not make it too long.” jj approached you, giving you a flirty smile.

you gave him a laugh in response, “i’ll be fine, jay. i just want to be able to let loose tonight.”

“stick by me then, don’t want any of these pervs creeping on you.” the thinly veiled concern in his voice made you smile. you know he’s flirting, but it’s clear he wants to keep you safe knowing it’s your first night out in so long.

you spent the next hour surrounded by the pogues, and true to his word, jj looked out for you. he did so well that you failed to notice who had shown up to the party, the one and only rafe cameron.

rafe, on the other hand, saw you immediately upon arriving. it was impossible for him not to when your presence demanded his attention. he was not happy to see who you were hanging around with. his ongoing beef with the pogues was well known by everybody on the island. he didn’t come to party though, he had other business to attend to as barry gave him a side eye, “fuck are you doing, country club? you can fight for your girl later, we’ve got shit to do.”

your drink had somehow disappeared. your furrowed your brows as you looked down, giggling to yourself as you told your friends you were going to get another one. you were at the perfect level of drunk, not to the point of blacking out or vomiting, but to where you couldn’t quite walk in a straight line and everything was funny to you.

you stumbled up to the keg, starting to fill up your cup when you felt someone watching you. the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, you instantly knew who it was. it was as though there was a chip in you that alerted you to when he was nearby. you took a deep breath as you turned your head slightly, seeing rafe sat next to a man you didn’t know as he handed a small plastic bag filled with overpriced coke to a touron. rafe’s eyes didn’t leave you as he signaled him to leave.

you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, the hand holding onto your cup now trembling and the lump in your throat building. rafe stood, starting to approach you as you froze. your brain was screaming at you to run but your body refused to move an inch.

“what the fuck do you want, cameron?” your words were spat out with venom. your tone clearly surprised you both as he looked shocked momentarily. you were typically one to stand your ground, but never ever was your attitude aimed towards him.

“what do you mean ‘what the fuck do i want’? you fucking up and left out of nowhere and haven’t spoken to me in almost a month.” his voice was filled with anger, his nose flaring as he clenched his jaw.

you let out a humorless laugh, “out of nowhere? you can’t be serious, rafe. you treated me like shit the last few months of our relationship.” you didn’t yet mention seeing his interaction with the bartender at the country club, not knowing if topper and kelce had told him about seeing you when you left that fateful day.

“what? be-because i couldn’t be with you twenty-four fucking seven? like i- i wasn’t out working my ass off to afford nice shit for you?”

“‘working your ass off’ will you stop fucking lying to me? i fucking saw you at the country club,” his facial expression showed confusion, bringing his brows together to try and understand what you were talking about, “you let that bitch touch you, you looked at her how you used to look at me. i spent hours getting ready, i showed up, wanting to surprise my boyfriend for lunch, and what do i see? my boyfriend letting some bartender hang off of him while he flirts with her?”

your voice had raised as you got more and more angry. you were now shouting at him as other partygoers failed to hide their stares and murmuring. nobody ever talked to the kook prince the way you currently were, unless they wanted their face bashed in.

rafe grabbed your arm harshly, pulling you down the beach and away from others. you stumbled behind him, knowing you weren’t physically or mentally strong enough to push him away.

when you looked up at him, you suddenly noticed his blown-out pupils. you felt your heart sink. “you’re using again.” you stated flatly.

he scoffed, rolling his eyes at you. “don’t act like you fucking care.” he spat out at you.

“jesus fucking christ- rafe, when did you start again?”

“don’t worry about it. when did you come to the country club?” his tone was demanding, sparking further irritation in you.

“the day i left. i- i let a lot of shit slide for too long, because… because i wanted to be a good girlfriend and support you when i thought you were just stressed out from work. and, in return, i get to watch my boyfriend make me look like a fucking idiot.”

rafe was silent for a minute, his lips pursed as he clearly was trying to remember what he was doing before he came home to an angry ward and an empty room. then realization hit him, he knew exactly what you were talking about. he brought his palm up to his face, groaning.

when he was about to speak, he was cut off. “is cameron bothering you?” jj’s familiar voice called out. you looked past rafe’s large figure to see all of the pogues standing beside him, looking ready for a fight if it came to it.

rafe gave a humorless chuckle, “stay the fuck out of it, pogue.” he clearly wouldn’t go down without a fight either.

your heart stopped for a moment and your body filled with ice cold terror as jj pulled out a gun that was hidden behind his back in his waistband. it was clear you weren’t the only one not expecting it as the rest of them looked at jj with concern, john b telling him to put it away. “yeah? let’s fucking go, rafe. been itching for a fight for too long.”

everything became blurred. the mixture of shouting, seeing figures suddenly moving towards each other, and the unmistakeable sound of a gunshot, and then everything went black.

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luvrxbunny · 1 year ago

Text

flower

pairing: bf!Miguel O’Hara x f!reader

summary: You won’t let Miggy play.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, sad feelings, clothed sex, cum in pants (lmk if I forgot anything)

wc: 2.2k

a/n: Gwen is 21 just for drinking purposes— everyone say thank u to @naeverse for giving me an alternative to google translate for the spanish!! ily bby!! 🫶🏾

Miguel is like your best artwork, in your opinion. The way you took the hard seed he was and watered, loved, cared and nurtured him so he could bloom into the flower he was today is one of your greatest achievements.

When you met him he was cold, closed off, and angry. It took months of breaking down his wall before he could even admit his feelings for you, it took even more, to get him to express his feelings for you. It was like luring a stray cat, slowly getting him closer, and more comfortable with you before pushing your physical feelings onto him. You coaxed him out of his cave of isolation, of touch deprivation, and showed him how it felt to have someone love on him.

You were so proud when he started coming to you for simple little things, like a kiss or a hug. You’d be working and he’d stride in, tall and confident just to ask you, shyly, for a kiss. For a long time you explained to him that he didn’t always need to ask you, you were okay with him just coming in and kissing you. You also had to explain to him that he’s allowed to ask for more than a hug or kiss, he was very resistant on that matter but you managed to break him.

One day he woke up in the middle of the night, you were asleep next to him and he needed you. He laid there for an hour, debating on whether he should wake you up or not. When he did wake you up, you couldn’t have been prouder. You made sure to let him know that as you rode him.

At first, he wouldn’t even hold your hand or hug you in public. He got comfortable with PDA much quicker than the others, it only took him a few weeks. He plunged himself into it head first.

He went from barely touching you to being all over you. He started sitting you in his lap, resting his arms over your hips while standing behind you, or laying his head on your stomach whenever you guys were chilling in the lounge.

He even got into the habit of running his fingers over your tummy, going under your shirt or dissipating your suit just to feel you. Or he’ll just grope you through your suit, it doesn’t alway seem sexual for him… more like he enjoys the closeness, the intimacy of touching you, holding you in places no one else can. For example; your boobs, your ass, and his most recent, most consistent obsession… your pussy.. just cupping, your clothed pussy.

He says it’s calming for him, most of the time he does it absently. The goal isn't to make you cum, or prep your for his cock. He just loves touching you. It made you unbelievably happy to see him like that, your secretly sweet boy, loving all over you, not caring who’s around. It was one of the best things to ever happen to you.

Which is what makes this current conversation so awkward.

Hobie is rambling on and on about how disgusting PDA is. Miguel isn't around, thank god. He went to get a drink and never came back. Hobie has been ranting about how inconsiderate, and inappropriate PDA is as you awkwardly sip on your drink, feeling oddly targeted. Jess and Gwen agree with him, saying that it’s not that serious but definitely annoying. You’re just wishing for them all to just stop before Miguel returns, terrified that he’ll retreat back into his shell. That you’ll loose your sweet flower.

“ ‘M jus sayin’ it’s not like they can’t wait ‘til they get ‘ome. I jus feel like… come off it, y’know? Like you’re in public, right? Jus... keep it in your pants.” You down your drink and decide to finally butt into the conversation.

“Hobie. I love you but you’re the same guy who doesn’t believe in consistency.” You earn a little chuckle from the table. “Get in a loving, serious, consistent relationship, and tell me you’ll never want to be affectionate outside your house.” The words spit from your mouth with more venom than intended but you stand your ground.

“Aye, I guess. But like, some people don’t know when to dial it back.” He laughs with Gwen as you get up to leave. Jess is sending you an apologetic look that you smile at briefly before turning to walk away. You’re stopped by a.. wall?

You open your eyes to see what you ran into and see Miguel smiling down at you. “Where are you going?” You smile back at him, genuinely, and tell him a half-truth. “I was looking for you! Where have you been?”

Miguel looks a little drunk, his face flushed, and his eyes hazy. You guys have been drinking but it usually takes more. He shrugs and sits in your seat, patting his leg for you to sit in his lap.

You start toward him but then Hobie’s words play in your head and you shake your head softly at him. He looks confused but nods at you and falls into the conversation, now talking about the latest mission.

You’re standing there considering Hobie’s words. If you imagine how you and Miguel act from an outsider's perspective… you can see why they’d find it annoying. Anxiety curls and makes a home in your chest as you flip through all your favorite memories of you and Miguel, all of them now tainted. You head over to the bar silently, needing another drink when you feel someone behind you.

You feel pressure on the top of your head and know it's Miguel, placing a kiss on your head, another recent habit of his. You do nothing, ignore it as he wraps his arms around your waist and leans into you. “Oh, Peter B. says Hello. He was here earlier for a bit. That’s what took me so long. He made me drink with him too. Puede que haya bebido mucho.”

(“I may have had too much to drink”)

A smile makes its way onto your face as you listen to him, his accent thicker with his intoxication. He’s leaning on you, not for support but just to feel you against him. You guys stand there in comfortable silence until you feel Miguel’s hand begin to slide from your hip to your pelvis, it slides underneath the band of your skirt and you stop him. “Not now, Miggy. Sorry.” Your drink arrives, you pay, and leave. Miguel follows behind you, slightly deflated by your rejection. Your mind is still on Hobie’s words.

Are we “too much”? Do we take it “too far”..? Maybe we should just dial it back a little...

You guys arrive back at the table and Miguel tries again. His hands come to your waist and quickly slide down, trying to get under your skirt. You don’t say anything, you keep talking to Gwen as you pull his hand out.

The night goes well from that point. Miguel makes more advances that are gently rejected or avoided by you. You all gradually get drunk as the night goes on, Miguel drinks a bit more than he usually would and recluses himself to a table next to where you guys are sitting. Jess leaves first, Gwen and Hobie following her not too long after.

You and Miguel decide to leave and Uber home in silence. He usually talks more after hanging out in a group, saying everything he thought but couldn't say, giving his rating on the interaction, and more. This time, however, he’s silent, looking out his window with furrowed brows the whole ride. The silence only breaks once you both are in the apartment and you speak up.

“Why are you so quiet tonight?” You’re staring at his back as he stands in the living room. He doesn’t answer you at first, he just stands there before sighing and turning around.

“Why won’t you let me play with you?” His voice is weaker than you’ve ever heard it, his eyes look sad and desperate and his hands are wringing each other. You’ve never seen him like this, nervous and unsure. It breaks your heart.

You rush over to him and wrap him in a hug. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you wanted to that bad, baby.” You let him go and kiss his cheek. “I—�� You sigh defeatedly. “Hobie got in my head about PDA. I don’t know why I listen to him.” Miguel lets out a sigh of relief at your words, some of the tension leaving his body.

“That idiot? Yeah, no. Don’t listen to him, amor.” You smile at him and he kisses you softly. When you pull away he still has that nervous look in his eyes. “Do you wanna play with me now?” you ask gently. He nods so timidly that you regret ever rejecting him. You kiss him with a smile as he walks you backward, only stopping once your back hits the wall.

His breath is already speeding up, his chest heaving as his hand slowly slides up your skirt. The moment his fingers come in contact with your clothed pussy he groans out, louder than you. You’re shocked by his reaction as he keeps rubbing your clit, gasping, and moaning with you as if he was touching himself.

His mouth is open as moans tumble through his lips. He’s not looking at you, just watching his fingers move on your pussy. His eyebrows draw more inward the faster he moves his fingers, his moans turning into whines the faster he goes.

At some point, his fingers roll over your clit more perfectly than you can handle and your hips buck into his hands. His knees almost buckle at the sight as he lets out a deep, rumbling groan.

“Santa mierda.” His eyes roll back as he feels your wetness soak through your panties and dampen his fingers. He’s desperately hard in his pants and his hips are thrusting up into the air in time with his movements over your pussy. “Echaba mucho de menos esto, cariño”

(“Holy shit.”)

( “I missed this so much honey”)

You giggle at his apology. He tends to do this a lot when you have him extra worked up. He always feels bad because he knows you can't understand him but the truth is that when he gets you like this… Whining, moaning, and pressing into him.

He cannot function.

He can’t think about anything but breeding you, getting his fat cock into your soft pussy, and painting your cervix. He’s not worried about what language it happens in. His brain can’t focus on things like that, he’s tried.

Your hips thrust up into his hand as you grip his biceps, your nails digging in painfully, making him moan even louder. His fingers move against you perfectly, the Spanish falling from his lips pulls you closer and closer to your orgasm. Your legs start to twitch and tense, your knees weakening as the burning in your stomach grows. Your hands come up around Miguel’s neck to pull him closer to you.

“You’re making me feel so good, Miggy. Fuck- I love you so much, baby.” He lifts you off your feet, pressing you up against the wall and lifting your legs over his waist. He takes a step forward and buries himself in your neck, his hips come forward, pressing his bulge against your mound with a groan. “Yeah, good. Good, Miggy- shi-it.” You feel his fangs slide out of his mouth and press into your skin as he whimpers. “Holy- Miguel, I- fuck, like that baby please.”

His whines turn to groans as he thrusts against you like he was actually fucking you. His hips swivel into yours, stuttering as he listens to your moans. “N-nena, estoy tan cerca. Maldita sea, te sientes tan jodidamente bien, mi amor. Siento que no puedo respirar. Mierda, te sientes increíble.”

(“B-baby, I'm so close. Damn, you feel so fucking good, my love. I feel like I can't breathe. Shit, you feel amazing.”)

You moan louder at his words, the way they roll off of his tongue. You can’t even describe how you feel when he speaks, especially in Spanish. It feels like his words vibrate through your ears, to your stomach, and settle in your core, winding you up as tightly as you can go. “Yeah? Oh, I’m gonna c-cum. Fuck- talk to me, Miggy. T-tell me how it feels, honey.”

Miguel can feel his eyes roll back into his head at your words. You know he can’t speak English right now, and he knows you love it anyway, the thought has him hurtling toward his orgasm. “Te sientes tan perfecta, nena. Voy a correrme tan fuerte por ti. ¿Lo quieres? ¿Quieres que te dé mi leche, miel? Te lo daré, todo por ti, nena. Mierda.”

(“You feel so perfect, baby. I'm gonna cum so hard for you. Do you want it? Do you want me to give you my milk honey? I'll give it to you, all for you, baby. Shit.")

Your legs crush his waist as you cum, trembling in his arms as his hips keep fucking against you, his moans growing in volume. You bring your hands up to dive into his hair, pulling at it, gripping it as he growls into your neck. He’s trying to hold off until you’re done, he wants to keep going, he wants to make you cum for so long that you can’t breathe but the way you’re grasping his brown locks makes it impossible. His muscles tense, his hands squeezing you into a bruising hold as his groans devolve back into whines, his body shaking as his cock explodes.

He cums so hard he thinks he blacks out for a moment. His cock pumps out rope after rope of his cum into his pants, he wishes it was inside you for a moment and he’s cumming harder at the thought. His hips continue to buck into you desperately as he moans out your name. You feel one of his hands leave your waist and rest on your cheek shakily, pushing your head in his direction and placing a kiss on your cheek. He grunts as he bucks against you one more time before putting you down.

You knees give out the moment you touch the ground and Miguel holds you up with a chuckle. “¿Qué? ¿No puedes soportarlo, cariño? ¿Tus piernas ya no funcionan?” He teases you as he carries you to the bedroom, your head rests on his chest, feeling the vibrations as he speaks.

(“What? You can't stand, honey? Your legs don't work anymore?”)

“You better hush up before I fuck you.” You spit back at him jokingly but you feel his pace falter at the threat.

“Uh, Qué... ¿Cuál es el dicho? Don’t threaten me with a good time?” He says in a teasing tone but his eyes are already clouding over again, desperate.

(“what... what's the saying?”)

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!

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scarletwinterxx · 7 months ago

Text

middle finger and promise rings - jaehyun scenario

helllooooo a fluff moment with jung jaehyun. I was scrolling through tiktok the other day and I found a compilation of him laughing and it was the cutest thing ever so now we're here😅

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics nad gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Jaehyun enters the apartment and the first thing he hears is your laugh. He hangs his jacket on the hook, takes off his shoes before walking towards the living room where he sees you lying on the couch giggling to yourself.

You spot him over your phone, quickly turning it off when you spot your boyfriend "Hi, you're home early" you greet him, walking towards him.

He smiles at you, opening his arms to give you a very much needed hug. He does everyday, without a fail. Whenever he gets home from work or somewhere, he asks for a hug from you.

"What were you watching?" he asks

"You"

"Huh?" he peaks down at you, still caged in his arms

"I was looking through my phone then I saw a bunch of videos, like from when we started dating until recent. You looked cute, especially when you laugh" you answer him

"I thought my laugh was loud" he chuckles, letting you to sit on the couch. You follow him, taking the seat beside him.

"It is. But I love it so much, you know you have this kind of laugh when you find something really funny and your face scrunches up in a cute way" you try to mimic it while Jaehyun watches.

You might as well tell him you'll marry him with the way you're making his heart explode right now. Moments like these are what he looks forward to the most when he comes home. The simple conversations with you, no matter how random they are, he cherishes them so much.

"Oh by the way, can we order chicken and pasta for dinner? Or chinese food? I can't decide, how about you what do you want?"

"Chinese sounds good, do you want me to call our favorite place?" he asks, already getting his phone out

"Okay, and this came in today by the way" you say, passing the package that arrived today. "What is it?" you ask, while waiting for him to open it

"I forgot, must've ordered this a long time ago"

Without checking the label he opens it. When he flips the unsealed package upside down, a velvet box falls on his lap.

The two of you freeze.

He should've checked the label. Jaehyun internally panics.

Meanwhile you don't say anything, waiting for him to do or say something. But he doesn't so you clear your throat, getting your phone on the table "I'll order, tell me if you want anything else" you tell him.

"Uh yea sure" Jaehyun swallows the lump in his throat, finally coming to his senses. Taking the box before excusing himself. You hear the bedroom door open and close.

After that night you don't mention anything about it. You didn't ask questions. You acted like you didn't see it. Jaehyun wondered if he should ask but he doesn't know where to start.

What do you think it was, did you have your suspicions, were you upset with him? These are the questions running in his mind. But you never said anything to him, like everything was normal.

He was debating if he should've just showed you what was inside. If you were thinking it was a ring then you're right.

About a few months ago, he ordered a ring after finally getting your size. He's still worrying if you'll like it. It's not an engagement rring, not yet atleast. The ring inside was a promise ring for you. You told him a story about wearing a ring ever since your teen years, way back before the two of you met. You bought yourself a ring, a promise to exchange it to something else when you get yourself a boyfriend.

You showed him the ring before, it was a simple metal band you used to wear on your middle finger. You never took it off, not a day. That was until he asked you to be his girlfriend.

Of course he had to get you a new one, he was just waiting for the right time to give it to you.

He forgot to check the email about the shipping and didn't expect it to arrive when it did. It definitely wasn't part of the plan to open it infront of you.

It's been a few weeks since then. You honestly kind off forgot about it. You trust Jaehyun will tell you in the right time.

Tonight, he's running a bit late. He got caught up in a meeting so when he got home you were already sleeping. He enters the apartment carefully, walking through the hallway and cracking the bedroom door slowly.

The lights were all off, the only light coming from outside but he can see your silhouette from under the blanket. Quickly but quietly he gets ready for bed, sliding beside you.

He turns sideways to watch you, eyes closed, face peaceful, breathing slow and quite. You're giving off the most serene aura, he can't think of anything else but you.

Your hand was resting open beside your head, he reaches a finger out to trace random patterns while still watching you. He missed you so much today, he don't want to wake you up but he wishes he can give you a hug.

He does that for quite some time, tracing things on your palm while watching you waiting for sleep to come to him too.

From random patterns, to short words. He's now tracing random words on your palm, like you always do with his. You always do it randomly, in public or when it's just the two of you. Most times you spell out the word 'I love you' on his palm, that was actually how you said it to him for the first time. It took him some time to finally realize it, and when he did looked over at you with a surprised look. Saying the same three words back at you.

Right now he traces the word 'mine' in yours, while his mind wonders just how lucky he is to have you in his life.

He believes this isn't the only lifetime he'll love you, it isn't possible. Wishing hoping praying that in all alternate universes, however many there are, that version of him meets their version of you.

Suddenly feelings emotional, he sits up on the bed before reaching for something in the bedside drawer.

You're a light sleeper, especially when you're by yourself. The only time you really fall into deep sleep is when Jaehyun's with you. That's why when you hear some ruckus from Jaehyun's side, you wake up from your slumber

"Jae? You're home?" you mumble, your eyes still closed

"Did I wake you? Sorry, baby. Go back to sleep, I'm here" he whispers. He pulls you towards him, resting your head on his chest. You cuddle him more, making yourself comfortable again.

You listen to his heartbeat to lull yourself back to sleep when you feel him take your hand that was resting on him, he puts something on you before you feel his lips kiss your knuckles.

"What are you doing?" you mumble, opening one eye to peak at your hand only to see a ring that definitely wasn't there before you slept.

You open both eyes this time, sitting up to look at it then at Jaehyun

"Explain" you tell him, gesturing at your hand

"It's a promise ring, remember you used to wear one before we started dating. It took sometime but I finally replaced that one, I didn't want to freak you out on our first anniversary so I waited until now" he explains

"Is this real or am I dreaming?" you ask him

Jaehyun chuckles before sitting up, now face to face with you. He takes your cheeks in his hands before pulling you towards him for a kiss

"This is very very real, my love"

"It's so pretty" you pout at the ring, a simple band with a diamond on it. Like a leveled up version of the one you used to wear

"I'm glad you like it even though I kinda ruined the surprise" he tells you

"I thought it was an engagement ring, not gonna lie"

He kisses you one more time before he pulls you down, settling you on his chest once again. "We'll get there one day. This time I'll make sure it's a surprise"

"But I am surprised, I love this surprise"

"And I love you, that ring is a promise to keep my promise of forever with you. One day we'll get there, one day I'll watch you walk down the aisle to me" he mumbles against your forehead, sealing it with a kiss after

"I'd love that, and I love you too"

"Let's go to sleep now, dream of me okay?"

#fic #nct #fanfic #jaehyun #nct jaehyun #nct imagine #nct fluff #nct au #nct reads #nct scenario #nct oneshot #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun imagines #nct 127 #jaehyun scenario

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astonmartinii · 1 year ago

Text

worlds biggest fan part two | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x reader

y/n is the president of the official max verstappen fan club, but nothing can come of that, right?

part one

masterlist

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, martingarrix and 6,708 others

yourusername: not much going on right now

view all comments

user28: and now we're quoting taylor swift huh?

yourbff1: you're fake as fuck for posting this after not replying to me for two days

yourusername: what if i told you my phone died?

yourbff2: i would fight u

yourusername: i'm outside pull up

user29: the way they're still bickering as if y/n isn't well known now

yourbff1: she'll never dodge these hands

maxverstappen1: 🧡

user30: you ever gonna progress past an orange heart WHERE'S THE FLIRTING?

yourusername: blushing

user30: there's something suspicious amuck here

user31: ur right

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 1,309,561 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: i'm her biggest fan

view all comments

user36: i am going feral i need to be put down

danielricciardo: who is this man and what did you do with max verstappen?

maxverstappen1: i'm not allowed to appreciate my girl? danielricciardo: my bad, y/n is a very beautiful girl you're very lucky maxverstappen1: I AM AWARE

user37: yall i think max is losing his mind

yourusername: wow who is this girl who definietly should be in a lecture and not monaco

maxverstappen1: but i'm more fun than your professor yourusername: better take that maxy he's a big fan of yours maxverstappen1: okay he's a cool guy but i'm cooler yourusername: i'm not going to debate that

user38: so like did he fly her out for the dinner or did they go to dinner and then get on so well they went back to max's in monaco? i like desperately need to know

yourbff1: so this is where you've been @yourusername

yourusername: sorry not sorry yourbff2: we've been collecting notes and work for you and this is how we're thanked maxverstappen1: name a race and i'll get you there yourbff1: i take it back you can fuck off to monaco whenever you want yourusername: you change your tune fast

maxverstappenarchive

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 39,671 others

maxverstappenarchive: max enjoying his summer break

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user39: i know y/n is loving reporting on herself on this account

yourusername: maybe am i, maybe i'm not

yourbff1: she definitely is

user40: not to sound cheesy but i've never seen max this happy victoriaverstappen: neither maxverstappen1: i'd rather wait this long for a love like this, than have something less than what i feel right now yourusername: awwwwwwww i love you too maxy user41: i'm sorry ? LOVE ? user42: i feel like this is way too fast maxverstappen1: i'm an f1 driver all i know is fast charles_leclerc: good lord that is cheesy mate user43: @charles_leclerc what are you doing in the comment section of a max fan account charles_leclerc: being nosey and gathering data for the group chat user43: what group chat? charles_leclerc: the one where we make fun of max for being a softy

f1wagsandtea

liked by user44, user45 and 2,198 others

tagged: yourusername, yourbff1, yourbff2, yourbff3

f1wagsandtea: y/n y/ln, the girlfriend of max verstappen, will make her debut this weekend at silverstone and has brought along three of her closest friends and housemates.

view all comments

user46: omg y/n is finally going to a race

user47: i want her to go to zandvoort at some point i know the girlies there would treat her well

yourbff1: we're famous now oh wow

yourbff2: i mean it's just a wag account bro don't we hate these?

f1wagsandtea: catching strays on my own post

yourbbf3: deserved xoxo

user48: i am so excited for y/n omg this has all happened so fast

redbullracing

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 569,341 others

tagged: yourusername, maxverstappenarchive

redbullracing: a famous face in the orange army was with us in the garage this weekend. y/n has been a long-time fan of her boyfriend max and finally got to attend her first race here in silverstone

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user49: this shit is straight out of a damn fanfiction

yourusername: thank you so so much for having me, truly an insane experience i am so grateful

redbullracing: there's still race day to go

yourusername: don't remind me i'm so nervous

maxverstappen1: i thought i saw an angel in the garage after fp1, turns out i wasn't hallucinating

yourusername: you're too sweet

user43: @charles_leclerc i got one for you

charles_leclerc: thank you for your service

maxverstappen1: how many of you are in this group chat

charles_leclerc: none of your business

user50: god when will it happen to me

liked by lewishamilton, lancestroll and 881,208 others

f1: RED FLAG. the marshals have thrown the red flag after a collision between max verstappen and lewis hamilton. the impact was 51g and verstappen has been escorted via helicopter to the local hospital but is awake and talking. we will resume within the hour.

comments are restricted on this post

maxverstappenarchive

liked by maxverstappen1, victoriaverstappen and 67,033 others

maxverstappenarchive: i cannot express my disappointment enough in the way the situation was handled this afternoon. it is to my understanding that the fia have considered this to be a racing incident, though i do not agree, that is the ruling so i nothing i can say will change that. HOWEVER, i am deeply disappointed in the manner in which lewis decided to celebrate despite the severity of the crash to max. i am lucky enough to be with max now, he is okay and his scans indicate that there is no internal damage, but i do believe there should be some introspection to how we celebrate while being unaware of the wellbeing of the other party. you can call me bias, but max will come back stronger and this will only motivate him more for the title fight. game on.

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user51: holy moly she did not come to play

user52: i don't even know how to feel about this whole thing

user53: i was there and oh my god it was so intense

user54: i'm just glad both parties are okay

user55: this title fight is so intense oh god

user56: i have a feeling this is not over

maxverstappen1 added to their story

[caption: thank you for being there for me, we'll come back stronger]

note: HOLY MOLY this felt like it took so long to write lol. i've been at work every day and finally sorted my living situ out (i.e. i'm gonna move into the dodgy house and just wait to be evicted lol). i like writing cause it's such a distraction from my current shit show life lol - i may make a part three of this if y'all want idk i love the drama of it all xxx

#f1 #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen instagram au #max verstappen #max verstappen x you

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

So your drunk reader and Spencer fic? Maybe one with Hotch but reader has had something important going on and had called Hotch previously over it, but this was just a super sappy drunk call during an important case but Hotch can never not answer if he technically can talk for just a moment?

thank u for ur request! fem!reader

"I just can't understand how he can be two places at once," Derek says, infuriated.

Hotch has a thousand possibilities racing through his head. "He can't be," he says, "so we have to work out what else is happening."

"It's him," Emily says. "Same clothes, same face. And it can't be an evil twin–"

JJ groans, rubbing her eye with the heel of her hand and leaning forward into the conference table they're all sitting at. "I actually like the evil twin theory for this one."

Hotch's phone vibrates in his pocket. He needs to focus —he can't focus. You've been so heartbreakingly lonely while all of this has been happening, and he loves you, but they have three missing girls to find.

Time is ticking downward. He's never going to make any headway if he knows you need him on the other side of the phone.

"Just answer it," Rossi says quietly. "Reid's gonna crack it any second now. You have a duty to more than work, my friend."

Hotch catches it before it goes off. Standing, he buttons his suit jacket again and makes for the door. When it closes, he talks in a measured tone. "Honey," he says, "are you alright?"

"I'm okay," you say, immediate and bubbly.

You sound okay, he thinks. "Did you hear anything else from the doctor?"

"Aaron," you say, a number of emotions in your tone, but mostly love, "they don't call on Sundays, and they never call after six anyways."

"It's later for you," he remembers.

"I'm so sick of doctors and worrying and worrying about doctors, now I'm worrying about you, did you have to go? 'Cus I know you had to go, but I wish you could've just stayed home. I have this weird bruise I want you to look at–"

"Hold on. Nothing's wrong?"

"You're not here. That is so, so wrong." You hiccup. "Woah."

Hotch blinks to himself, a smile on his lips for the first time in days. "Sweetheart, have you been drinking?"

"Just what was left of the wine."

"You mean the one we got last week? That we haven't opened?"

"Yes." You sound serious. He can imagine your tipsy face, solemnly nodding with eyes wide open.

"Where are you? Still at my apartment?"

"Is that okay?"

Hotch closes his eyes. "That's perfect. I don't have to worry about you as long as I know where you are. You haven't taken any painkillers, of course."

"I'm not silly."

"That's up for debate. I… I'm glad you're in a good mood, it's good to relax, but no more wine, okay? You'll make yourself sick, and I won't be there to take care of you in the morning."

"Don't remind me!" Another hiccup. "I think I should've been a special agent, mister Hotchner, so I could come with you all these places and not have to miss you. I love you. I love your face and your hands and the way you always squeeze my hip in the morning when you wake me up." Your forlorn sigh is clear despite the distance. "Do you love me?"

"Very much, Y/N."

"I love you. I really didn't mean to drink so much but it actually tasted nicer the more I did."

"That's how it goes."

"I try to not be disgusting when we have wine together but you weren't here, 'n' I thought I could get sloshed without feeling bad."

"Why would you feel bad?" he asks, bemused.

"'Cus you'd have to take care of me, and you take care of everyone. All the time."

"I like taking care of people. I love taking care of you. You realise that I'd love to take care of you 'sloshed'?" he asks. He can be very honest here, knowing you probably won't remember the entirety of your conversation, but you'll recall how you felt. Well, if you don't get nauseous. "I love looking after you no matter what's wrong. I'm only sorry I can't do it as much as you deserve."

"You're sorry? That's dumb."

"Maybe it is."

"Definitely it is, Aaron. You're way too handsome to bother being sorry."

Maybe twenty years ago. "In that case, you can stop saying sorry to me altogether." Hotch pauses as a knock rattles the glass behind him. Derek stands on the other side, pointing at Spencer, whose lips are moving a hundred miles an hour. Their smartest member saves the day again. "Honey, I have to go. I'm sorry. I wish I could be with you, you know that? But I really have to go."

"This is impressive for us, actually, we had like four whole minutes. Bye, handsome, have a good time at camp."

He snorts. "Bye."

Hotch takes a split second to collect himself. Your hurting, your drunkenness, your open love for him and the obvious if slurred affection you speak with, he puts everything away and gets ready to do his job. If he does it well enough, he could be home in time to rub your forehead through the hangover.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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schoenpepper · 1 month ago

Text

Fishies

Intro: In your dreams, this eel merman loves to bother you the most.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, Floyd is a warning in and of himself, mentions of homicide haha, reader is yuu, i dont think i followed the req very well my bad, u and floyd are like super totally normal besties i prommy ahaha no romance here nope no sir, not proofread im like super ded, the glitch text is funny to me, yandere floyd and reader if u like squint super hard

A/N: Updates are slowing down a lot, I know, I'm so so sorry. Unfortunately, my course and univ are kind of competitive, and as someone who hates studying, I've been forced to actually study. Gross, I know. This is for my 300 follower event, for @anonymousplant. I hope you like it.

Masterlist

You’re a pretty normal person, at least, you’d like to think so.

But starting from when you were 5 years old, you’ve had a permanent, recurring dream. You tell your parents of a rowdy merman that tends to linger in your subconscious: his sharp-toothed grin, his sparkly tail longer than his torso, his pretty fins that fluttered when you tried to touch them. They didn’t believe you when you said he really liked trying to squeeze you to death, though they comfort you when you break into their room in the middle of the night sobbing your little heart out.

Yeah, Floyd is an asshole.

That’s his name, or at least, what he told you. You’re not too inclined to debate him on that considering his fondness of wrapping his ridiculously long (and freakishly strong) tail around you, squeezing you at a moment’s notice.

You thank whatever deity is listening that you can breathe underwater in your dreams. He does not seem like the kind of guy who wouldn’t drown you. You know, for fun. Every night when you fall asleep, you ready yourself to meet with your imaginary friend (that’s what your parents called him, though you prefer the term imaginary acquaintance, at best).

“Shrimpy! You’re here, hehe~”

You look at him harshly with your arms crossed in front of your chest, “You’re never this happy to see me. What do you want, fishy?”

“Neh, shrimpy~” the sparkles in his two-colored irises bring about a sense of fear in you, “do you know what dreaming like this means?”

“That I made up a weird eel merman in my mind?”

“I’m not made up. Don’t be silly, shrimpy!” Floyd’s tail slithers in the water, coiling around your legs, “Jade and I learned about it yesterday. You’re my soulmate!”

Ten-year-old you woke up in a nervous start.

Ew!

Why would you ever, ever, be caught dead being with someone like Floyd?! He’s annoying, and a fish, and so if you got together you’d be a fish too! But you don’t want to be a fish!

Your parents are surprised to find you in a very snappy mood the following morning.

“You left so quick, shrimpy! You don’t wanna be my soulmate?”

You snatch an iridescent fish swimming by, turning it into a big plushie with your dream powers. “But you’re annoying,” you stick out your tongue, “so I don’t want to be your soulmate.”

“Eh…?”

You glance at Floyd. He doesn’t seem too happy with your words—in fact, his eyes are narrowed and he’s swimming slowly, closer and closer to you. “But I like you so much, shrimpy~” he says, but there’s no expression on his face. He’s so, so uncomfortably close that you need to lean back to avoid touching him, “you don’t get to choose your soulmate, y’know? So it’s not like you have a choice, hehe~ But if you really wanna be rid of me, I can always squeeze you ‘til your eyes pop! If you’re dead, you wouldn’t have a soulmate anymore. Shrimpy, aren’t I so nice?”

“You suck.”

You kick at the dream water and swim away from the giggling eel.

“Wanna play chase, shrimpy? Okay~”

He’s not too bad. At worst he’ll get cuteness aggression and suddenly wrap himself around you, but most times you’re just chatting endlessly with him about what he calls “weird human things”, and you pester him for details about “normal fish things”. He talks about his octopus friend that he refuses to call a friend, and how takoyaki is his favorite food in the same sentence. You talk about having to dissect a frog in science class which he found really funny somehow. He tells you about his twin brother and their shenanigans together. You tell him about how your parents, your friends—no one believes you when you say that Floyd’s real.

He says they’re lame.

You’ve learned to keep him a well-guarded secret lest your parents recommend a mental hospital again, but he must’ve stuck himself real close to your heart when he starts becoming inseparable from your mind.

He’s become a really good friend.

With Floyd, no moment is ever dull, even when you’re just sitting together on some dream-conjured rock, leaning on each other silently.

There is no second in a day in which you’re not thinking of him. Your favorite part of the day is going to sleep to see him each night, spending hours with his eccentric tendencies. The fish has become a very important part of your life.

(Your friends in school ask you who you like in a discussion about crushes. You ignore the fact that his name is on the tip of your tongue.)

He’s your best friend. There is no secret you can keep from him, because despite Floyd’s usual laissez-faire attitude, one change in your expression and he’s onto you. You’d thought you would go through your entire life with him as your constant, you really did.

On your sixteenth birthday, he’s gone.

Not that he disappeared, but rather, you can’t dream anymore. You wake up the next day with no memory of any dream, and it fills you with panic. Your stomach is churning like a void is forming inside—an integral part of yourself is missing and everything feels so, so wrong. You make your bed and head downstairs to eat breakfast. Your parents question your demeanor in concern for your well-being, and you force out a smile. You tell them you’re fine? There’s no need to worry them about the loss of your imaginary friend, right? You’re okay. Maybe this is the change you needed. You’ll be an adult soon, and you can’t dream of a weird eel merman forever.

No no n̷̥̜̐ơ̷͉̪ ̴͚̉̾n̷͚̥͒̓o̵͍̾̆ ̵͍͑n̷̩̝͐ő̵̟ ̶̛̈́ͅn̴̟̣͝͠ȍ̴̢̜ ̸̳̾ǹ̷̳̮ö̴̠́

Where is he?

Where is F̸̛̛̛͇͉̳̝̫̹͒̏͒͊̐͜ͅļ̸̪͈̞̱͓̰̖͌̽̉̔̐̇̃̃̏ó̶̻̯̪̭̐͋̏͛͒̈́̇̽ͅy̶̟̳̬͉̙̖̫̙̻̑̏̌̔̇͂̋̌̕d̷̝͕̣͖̺̬̦̟̂͊͜?̶̧̛͕͎̼͔̈́̆ Ẅ̶̟̗́͠ͅh̶̦̞͚͙̣͛ỳ̴̢͓͓̗͔̗͓̀̉́͋͜͝ ̸̹́͐̿͛ī̵̡̛͎̪̭͉̫̋s̷̢͇͗̏̔͑̿́̚͜ ̵̡̟̄̀̈̆̎̓͝ͅh̵͕̓͂̍̀̔̊̏́ę̶̹̝̘̙̪̗͊̽ ̸̮̟̞͇̭͕̫́̆̀͑̓͗͜͠g̵̙̰̽̔̈́̃́̓̋̐o̸͚̱̟̳̘̦̖̊͐̓ñ̷̨͕͉͈̱̮̲̟ȅ̷͓͙?̴͖͎̳͚̟̲͚̂̔́̔͝͝

Why has he left you...?

Your vacation to your grandmother’s house does nothing to ease your worries (but if she ever heard you sobbing your heart out alone in your room, she never said anything about it).

There’s an old mirror in your bedroom in your grandmother’s house, owned by your late great grandparents. The floor length mirror is encased in an intricate gold frame, and it’s not too obvious until one night when you’d found yourself staring at it in a daze, but the reflection is off. It’s tinged with a layer of purple light, translucent and barely visible unless you pay attention. You try to sleep (it’s been evading you for three days, since the night of your birthday), cozy in your fluffy blankets and a blue unicorn onesie that your grandma had bought to try to cheer you up.

You’re woken by a bright light.

Careful, tiptoed steps lead you in front of the mirror. Your fingertips graze over its surface when a sudden force pulls you in—right in front of a crowd of a few hundred students.

So that was your first day in NRC.

You’d say it was nothing particularly remarkable considering everyone in this place has some sort of superpower, but to be honest, they think you’re so intriguing because you’re magicless. In their eyes that made you weak.

Helpless.

NRC is just filled to the brim with budding sadists.

Your first night in NRC goes a lot different.

It’s uncomfortable. The blankets and sheets are old and scratchy. The entire place is in disarray. It’s filthy and dusty and you’re sure you’re one step away from falling right through the floorboards because of how creaky they are. But tiredness makes for the best sleeping aid, and you’re prepared for another night of nothing.

You miss Floyd.

It’s a big shock when you’re met with your most beloved dreamscape instead of the void. Cold water that chills you to the bone, schools of colorful fish just passing by. There’s a long tail wrapped around a boulder, connected to a swaying half-human who’s blankly staring at the jellyfish. It’s all so familiar that your feet have acted before your brain has; you’re right next to him again.

(It’s where you should be.)

“Shrimpy!”

His voice is a welcome sound. His squeezing though, not so much.

“Floyd—ack! Ow ow ow!”

You almost swear you hear your ribs crack at some point with the way his tail and arms are putting pressure on it, but he only loosens his hold. He doesn’t let go.

You don’t mind that he doesn’t want to.

“Shrimpy’s so mean, why’d you gotta go no contact like that? It’s been so boring! I was super bummed, didn’t even wanna leave my room for that lame ceremony. Did you sleep when I was awake or somethin’?” he whines mournfully into your hair, “I thought… tsk, I told you soulmates aren’t changeable. Were you tryin’ to stop dreaming again?”

“No, the dreams just stopped,” you reply softly. It’s so oddly comforting to be in his arms, it makes you sleepy even in your sleep.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You weren’t tryin’ to stop seeing me again?”

“I wasn’t. I promise.”

He hums, almost in relief.

(You don’t feel his lips gently, so gently, leaving a kiss on your neck where he’d buried his head. It’s so unlike him, but you make him act so weird.)

Grim wakes you up to look for breakfast in the cafeteria, and your time with your (platonic 💜) soulmate is over all too quickly. But something is stuck in your mind as you’re trudging through dimly lit halls with cat in tow. You knew the name Night Raven College rang a bell, but for it to be the very same school that Floyd had been ranting about for a year is just so unexpected.

(You’re finally in the same world.)

Then, is he here?

You didn’t manage to tell him about your most recent adventures last night. Maybe you should ask around and see if anyone can point you in the correct direction. At least, that was your original plan. Before an almost-burnt statue, a broken chandelier, two idiots who are actually really fun to hang out with, an abandoned mine with hostile ghosts…yeah. It takes you at least three more days before you remember to ask about Floyd in the school. You wanted it to be a surprise, so you kept it a secret from him. Though you probably should have expected that with all the mischief you’d gotten up to, your name was bound to reach his ears sooner or later.

“What the—?!”

“Ack!”

“Woah!”

Your first real meeting with Floyd starts with your cat and your friends being pushed to the ground in a pile.

“Shrimpy! You’re in my school! And you’re the funny student that’s been causing trouble? Now I’m annoyed I missed orientation for the freshies,” he does not hug any looser in his human form, “coulda’ seen you earlier. I coulda’ squeezed you earlier too~”

“Too tight, loosen up a bit please.”

“Okay~”

Ace and Deuce are looking up at you in shock with how casual you seem to be with him, but you pay their reactions no mind, only walking towards them with Floyd still wrapped around you, reaching out a hand to help them up.

(You don’t notice Floyd glower at the trio, or the way his hold tightens ever so slightly.)

They don’t take your hand, but you smile and introduce your best friend anyway. “Guys, this is Floyd. He and I have been in each other’s dreams since forever,” you pat Floyd’s arm that’s slung over your shoulder, “he says we’re soulmates but just ignore him, he’s kinda crazy. It’s probably some freak coincidence.”

“There you go again shrimpy, I thought we were over this? You still don’t believe me even now?”

“Soulmates don’t exist Floyd, don’t think about it too much. You know you’re still my best friend.”

(Ace and Deuce look at each other. Neither of them want to be the one to tell you—)

Soulmates are absolutely a thing.

And with the way that the big bad school bully, known for terrorizing at least half of the student population, is basically hanging off you, there was just no way that Floyd wasn’t completely and absolutely enamored by his cute, magicless little soulmate.

They should probably warn Grim that the eel merman wouldn’t be letting you sleep at Ramshackle tonight.

Or ever.

#disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #gender neutral reader #x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader #floyd leech

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chrisevansonly · 1 year ago

Text

𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫’𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 | 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢

✯social media au

✯oscar piastri x female reader

✯everyone know’s who oscar’s girl is, she makes it known

✯not requested but wanted to pop out an oscar post today! if anyone has any smau requests feel free to pop them in my inbox🩷

y/ninstagram

liked by oscarpiastri, wmagazine, mclaren and 745,000 others

what would i do without the most amazing bf who takes the most amazing pictures of his most amazing gf in the entire world 😁

tagged oscarpiastri

see 101,000 comments

username why is this caption sending me rn

username nah because she’s SO fine

landonorris this caption is sus, what did you do?

>y/ninstagram what makes you think i did anything norris??

oscarpiastri i love you most amazing gf

oscarpiastri also yeah i know u ate the last cookie

>y/ninstagram i love youuuuuuuuuu🥹

liked by oscarpiastri

username oscar and y/n are legit made for each other idc

y/ninstagram added to their story!

oscarpiastri do you need anything?

y/ninstagram a body that doesn’t hate me?

oscarpiastri kk on it 🫡

y/ninstagram my hero!!!!

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, y/ninstagram, wagsoff1 and 876,000 others

throwing it back to F2 to show these pics 100% give off the same energy

tagged y/ninstagram

see 107,000 comments

username PLS😭

username y/n looks so done i’m here for it

y/ninstagram you know what…

>oscarpiastri you love me? 😃

y/ninstagram i see how it is

landonorris *saves photo immediately*

>y/ninstagram 😐😐😐

username y/n is gonna be fighting for her life in these comments

mclaren we definitely agree with this caption

liked by oscarpiastri and y/ninstagram

oscarpiastri added to their story!

*comments disabled*

y/ninstagram added to their story!

*comments disabled*

y/ninstagram

liked by landonorris, lilyhme, oscarpiastri and 1M others

the three stooges, idk how i get roped into these things…oh wait i do, because oscar asks and i love him too much to say no😃

tagged landonorris, oscarpiastri

see 203,000 comments

username okay the trio we need

username wait this friend group is EVERYTHING

landonorris don’t lie you loved twister

>y/ninstagram if you love getting ur stinky foot in your face sure

>landonorris IT WAS AN ACCIDENT

lilyhme im living for the chaos

>y/ninstagram save me :)))

username THESE COMMENTS

oscarpiastri thank you for always joining in!!!! ❤️

>y/ninstagram only for you 🙄

oscarpiastri added to their story!

*comments disabled*

oscarpiastri

liked by y/ninstagram, f1gossip, landonorris and 989,000 others

y/n was offended i called her a gremlin, so i’m here to remind everyone she’s not a gremlin, she’s my very sweet, amazing, loving, caring most beautiful(est) girlfriend ever in the whole world ❤️

tagged y/ninstagram

see 324,000 comments

username caption seemed coerced??

>y/ninstagram what are you talking about?

username PLEASE😭

y/ninstagram i didnt force him to say anything

y/ninstagram he’s just really letting everyone know how great i am and how much he loves me🥰

>oscarpiastri 😃😃😃😃

landonorris HAHAHA HIS FACE RN😭

>y/ninstagram send a pic or ur not a real friend

username oh this is fucking hilarious

mclaren is oscar being held against his will?

>y/ninstagram never 🥰

y/ninstagram

liked by cosmopolitan, oscarpiastri, wagsoff1 and 765,000 others

another great gp weekend with the best man ever❤️❤️ (no he was never held against his will😁)

tagged oscarpiastri

see 178,000 comments

username these two are endgame for me

username PLS y/n clearing the air yet again

username mother is mothering

oscarpiastri it was a great weekend, minus the kidnapping

>y/ninstagram you’re so dramatic it was not a kidnapping

>landonorris hmm debatable

>y/ninstagram NORRIS

username 😭😭😭

lilyhme chaos again?

>y/ninstagram it never ends:)))

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regencyrosalie · 2 months ago

Note

Could you write some Anthony bridgerton x wife reader angst with a happy ending

i love a happy ending. thank u for the req! here’s husband!anthony and his four braincells fighting for his life

To say Anthony has been stressed would be an understatement. The sheer amount of paperwork he’s had to do within the past week would put any regular man into an early grave. Not to mention that Hyacinth has attracted enough suitors since her debut to keep him busy and on edge every time there’s calling hours.

His wife has been trying her best to help, even organizing his papers when he’s busy, to which he would thank her profusely. She’s also been busy with the social season, arranging dinners and parties and visits to the modiste.

They never fight. (At least not since they got engaged). Which was why Anthony was so out of his element when he accidentally snapped at her one evening.

“Dear, would you like me to bring you a cup-“ she opened the door to the study, clad in her night-things.

“Could you spare me your rambling for once in your life?” he chastised, trying to add costs on paper with his exhausted mind.

She just stared at him for a moment, and he tensed, before backpedaling.

“Darling, I did not-“

But she had already left, and shut the door behind her, teary eyed and angry. He had never spoken to her in such a way, especially when all she was trying to do was assist him and bring him tea.

Anthony followed her out instantly, “My love,” he called desperately, but the hallway was empty, and she was nowhere to be seen. He raced down the corridor to their bedchamber, but it was empty. It did not even register until then that she may be in her own bedchamber.

And that she was, she was sat on her bed, weeping silently. She secretly prayed that he would find her, and muster up a tolerable apology because she could not bear to sleep without him. The sheets she was perched on had very likely not been changed since before she arrived at Bridgerton house, as she never spent more than five minutes in her own room each week. Much to her dismay, and the dismay of her pride, she was spiraling at his words. For how long had he believed her to be rambling? Was her presence so bothersome?

There was a knock on the door, like an answer from the divine.

“My love, are you there?” Anthony’s voice cut through the mahogany door.

“No,” she called back, trying to stop her voice from shaking. She wanted him to know she was there, but also to prove a point. Mostly to watch him suffer.

There was a sigh of relief as he found her, and he tried the door handle, to no avail.

“Please, darling. I am dreadfully sorry. I did not mean it. I was foolish. Please do not shut me out,” he pleaded from the other side of the door.

She did not make any reply, but she stood from the bed, crossing her arms over her chest, as if she knew she would be opening the door soon.

“My love,” he called, trying the door again “please. I love you. I cannot go through the night without you, you know I cannot. I will beg, if that is what you wish. I cannot be parted from you.”

She debated for a moment, and stayed silent, pacing around the room.

“What are you doing?” he practically whined through the door.

“Sparing you.”

He groaned. “No, love, please. That is the last thing I want. I did not mean it. You must know I did not. I have just been so busy, it has taken a toll on me. I did not mean to say such things to you, dearest. You know I do not feel so.”

That soothed her slightly, and she stopped in front of the door.

He heard her get closer, and he continued his begging. “Please, my love. I do not wish for you to spare me from anything except your contempt. I relish in your conversation, I crave it. Do not do this to me. I cannot bear it. I need you desperately. You know I do. I adore you. I adore everything you do, everything you are. I love you so dearly I feel as if it may kill me at times. And it very well might if you do not open this door.”

A smile tugged at her lips as he pleaded with her, and she wiped her eyes before unlocking the door and pulling it open.

Anthony looked a mess, his cravat was half-tied, his hair was disheveled, as he had probably been running his hands through it incessantly, and his eyes were glassy and pleading.

She almost giggled.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he said incredulously, with a hint of a smile.

“Perhaps a bit,” she replied, letting him pull her into his arms.

“You evil woman,” he chuckled softly, before pulling back to look at her face, frowning at her puffy eyes, “I am so sorry. Words cannot express my regret. I did not mean to cause you pain. I was foolish.”

“Yes, you were. But I forgive you,” she replied.

“Thank you, my love. I do not deserve your kindness.”

She kissed his cheek. “You do not need to earn my kindness. I know it has been tiring, with all of the work. But it is not my fault.”

“I know it is not. Of course, it is not. You give me nothing but strength. I adore you. I love you.” he murmured into her hair.

“I love you,” she replied softly, with a hint of amusement.

“Let me show you,” he mumbled, lifting her off the ground, “let me show you how much.”

She giggled.

“Anthony Bridgerton you are insatiable.”

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton x fem!reader #bridgerton fanfic

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haetrack · 10 months ago

Text

spur of the moment (ldh) | pt. 2

please read part 1 before reading to better understand the story!

haechan x afab!reader

wc: 10k (...)

warnings: MDNI, fluff and (mostly) smut, dirty thoughts, inexperienced!haechan, a first hangout, reader finds fleshlight, handjob, handjob with a fleshlight, mention of a dildo, ruined orgasm, slight nipple play, dirty talk, they are both very shameless and perverts, fingering, unprotected sex (NOOO!!!), no clear dynamics but they both talk so much, they like it a lot

a/n: happy new years everyone! first fic of the year will be part two! thank u all so much for the support on the first part! i enjoyed writing this and i hope u guys like it as much as i do… please let me know what u guys think!!

the next day, haechan debates on whether or not he wants to go to class.

it doesn’t help that you came out in his dream, squirming under him and asking to be filled up by his cock. it’s nothing he hasn’t experienced (he’s not a pervert, he swears), but after last night, it all feels new to him. the thought of being so close to you and not being able to do anything about it makes him feel a little crazy. then again, he can always just ask you to hang out.

it’s really not that easy, he thinks. you’re kinda way out of his league and he wonders if you even remember his name. you seem to talk to a select few in your shared class, which makes haechan wonder why you chose to talk to him that specific morning. it wasn’t serious or anything, but he wishes he would have seemed a little cooler. curse his only-shy-on-first-meetings self.

today is slightly different though, when he enters the classroom five minutes before, he doesn’t see you in your normal spot, laptop out and your journal filled with handwritten notes in front of you. he scans the room to realize that you’re not even there. he feels relieved yet disappointed as he takes his seat. he swears that he had enough confidence to talk to you today, but it turns out he won’t be able to live it out.

once he settles with that thought, a minute before the class starts, the door slams open and you rush in. realizing that your seat has been taken by someone else, you look for any empty seats. there’s only one close to the front.

while haechan lazily scrolls through his phone, he realizes someone is rushing down his row, stopping right at the empty seat next to him. he looks up to see you smiling down at him, “can i sit here, haechan?”

his whole body goes rigid, mouth slightly open as he stares at you for a moment too long. you look away at his intense eye contact, to which he notices and quickly motions for you to sit down. you thank him quietly, moving fast to get yourself set up. while you’re setting up, you accidentally bump your arm against his, causing his breath to hitch. you take it as slight annoyance, “sorry haechan!” you send an easy smile towards him, but that only reminds him of last night.

he can’t focus throughout the lecture. you’re sitting right next to him, minding your business, all while dirty thoughts of you and him replay in his mind. he wonders if you would reach over and whisper in his ear, begging to let you touch him during class. the back of his neck feels hot, and he tries to stop the blush that threatens to form on his cheeks. he would rather die than get horny in class.

he takes a few deep breaths, trying to focus on his professor droning on about utilitarianism. he takes a peek over at you scribbling down notes. you have a slight frown on your face coming from how hard you’re focusing on writing down notes. your focus breaks when you feel a pair of eyes on you, and you turn to look at haechan. he immediately turns to typing his notes on his laptop, and you can see how his skin has turned a pretty shade of pink on his cheeks.

you’ve had your eyes on him since you asked him how his morning was. you found it cute how he stuttered when you asked, trying his hardest to avoid eye contact with you. later that night, you tried to search him on instagram, and lo and behold, there he was, a private account with 90 followers to his name. you decided to hold off from talking to him, seeing if he would ever make a move on you.

now that you can visibly see how nervous he is just by you sitting next to him, you know you have to do something about it. you can’t wait until class ends.

when class ends, haechan tries to see how fast he can make his escape. completely ignoring how he stood in front of his mirror this morning planning what he wanted to say to you, he wonders if he could just slip past you. he shoves his laptop into his backpack and tries to beeline out the door as soon as his professor ends class.

before he can make it out though, a hand grabs his arm, and he turns to look down at you. a sickly sweet smile adorned on your face as you ask, “what are you going to do after class, haechan?”

it’s as if you could see right through him, his actions from last night plastered on his face as he answers you, “um, i was probably going to go back to my apartment to look over today's notes…” a complete lie, he was going to go back to his apartment to think about his utter failure today. maybe even get off to the thought of you again, how nice it felt to have you so close, how you basically touched him today, how sweet your smile was.

“that’s perfect actually! i wanted to ask if you wanted to go over the lecture together. you seemed a little distracted today,” you let out a small laugh, seeing how different his demeanor was while you were next to him. he wanted to look cool in front of you, but instead you saw how shy he was. he was so loud with his friends, but with new people, especially with someone like you, he couldn’t help being like this.

“yeah, that’s- i can do that with you,” he’s not really looking at you, and when he gets up, he tries not to invade your personal space. you remove your hand from him and he wishes he could grab it back. he wishes he could intertwine his hand with yours and show everyone that you’re his. but for now, he follows you out of class like a lost puppy.

“i would invite you over to my place,” he stops in his tracks and you look back at him, “but i have a roommate there right now.” he feels a little disappointed. he would’ve liked to see your room, be surrounded by your smell, to have you so close to him. then again, he’s not sure if he’d be able to hold back. as soon as you’d come close to him in your private space, he’d probably get hard on the spot.

he rushes to at least hold open the door for you, and you cock your head to the side and ask, “what about you? would it be okay to go to your place?”

you’re both standing there in the hallway of your class’s building. he thinks about it, he really tries to think of it. theres pros and cons to you being in his apartment. pros: you’d be there, and in the comfort of his own space, he’d feel a bit more confident. cons: you’d be there, he’s not sure how he’d feel about you being in the area where he just fucked a fleshlight thinking of you.

he messes with his fingers and bites the inside of his cheek, thinking about what he should do. he lets out a small breath and quietly says, “you can come over. i live by myself, so we can study there.”

you grin at his words, happy that you were able to persuade him. you’ve seen him talk to his friends, always leading the conversation, always making them laugh. so to see him rendered like this makes you wonder what he’s hiding. you can tell he likes you, but there’s something under his embarrassment, something he would never tell anyone. you'll find out today one way or another.

“did you come walking here? because i did,” you ask.

“no, i get here by car…” his sentence trails off and you give him a questioning look. his mouth opens and closes before he says, “would you like me to drive you?”

you laugh at him, your shoulder bumping into him, making him flinch a little. “i would love that.”

a shy smile appears on his face and you can’t help but smile back at him. he leads you to his car while you try to make small talk with him. you ask how the class has been for him, ask if living alone is nice, ask about his hobbies. he answers in short sentences, frustrated with himself for not being able to match your energy. he knows he can carry conversation, his own friends telling him he needs to learn how to shut up, but he just can’t do it now. he’s too concerned with his own thoughts.

he wonders if people are looking at the two of you heading to the parking lot. he wonders if you both look like a couple, talking like you both have known each other for a long time. haechan knows he wouldn’t normally be seen with someone like you, someone who seems too good for him. if he would tell his friends who he’s with right now, he’s sure that they’d call him a liar.

none of that really matters though, not when you’re walking side by side with him, your comforting personality putting him at ease. he’s sure that as long as he gets more chances to talk to you, he’d be able to comfortably talk to you. he feels good with you here, but it’s hard to ignore the little twinge of guilt at the back of his head. he tries to pretend he wasn’t furiously masturbating to the thought of you the night before, but it’s hard to ignore.

he unlocks his car and invites you in, and you happily call shotgun even if no one else is around. even though he’s nervous, he tries to start the conversation first, “you can put on music if you want, it’s not too far of a drive anyways.”

“i think i’m good, i’d rather talk to you more than anything,” you say with a sly smile. he feels a small blush form on his face. he can tell you notice it too when you chuckle at him, he covers his face with his hands. while you’re laughing at him, you put your hand down on his thigh. he immediately sits straight up, probably- no, definitely, red all over. he starts the car as fast as he can to try to stop thinking about how warm your hand was on his thigh.

it’s only twenty minutes, he thinks, twenty minutes of being trapped in a small space with you. you just touched him, and now it feels hard for him to breathe in his own car. the thought of fucking you in the backseat of his car creeps into his mind, and he feels relieved that you can’t secretly read his mind. you would both rush to the back, your hot touch all over as you fervently grind down onto him.

he can feel his dick begin stirring in his sweats, and he remembers you are quite literally sitting right there next to him. he’s scared to look at you, scared you’ve found out that he’s kind of a freak when it comes to you. but when he looks, he’s greeted by the simple sight of you staring out the window, your cheek resting on your hand. it puts him at ease, makes him want to reach over to your other hand and hold onto it.

he realizes he likes seeing this version of you. you look so calm, free from the stress of lecture, relaxed by the view of the pretty scenery around you. he smiles at you, admiring you from afar, despite the close distance you two share. he lets go of the breath he was holding, wills his away semi-hardon, and clears his throat. “can i ask why you wanted to talk to me today?”

“i’m not really sure either,” you answer honestly, “i’ve talked to a few people in class but none of them interest me as much as you do.” haechan isn't really sure what you mean yet, so he waits for you to continue. before you do though, you move out of the position you’ve been in, arms stretching in front of you. what seems so innocent deems quite differently for haechan. he sees how your boobs are pushed together, a small moan slipping out of your lips. he has to look away for a moment.

“i think it has to do with the fact that i know how much you stare at me.” you answer, shifting your body to face him.

he immediately spills out apologies, “i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable! you just happen to sit in front of me so- i didn't-”

it’s your turn to apologize, “no! i didn’t say i didn’t like it,” his head whips to look at you for a moment, “it’s just, you never came up to me, never said hi, just stared.” he feels his face heat up, realizing he wasn’t as discreet as he thought he was. all the time he spent daydreaming about you in class never went unnoticed, he simply was too lost in his fantasies to realize you were staring right back. “i always wondered what you were thinking, for a second i even thought you hated me.”

he shakes his head, one that feels like it’s saying that he could never hate you. “what’s your major?” he questions.

“psychology.” you smirk and he immediately nods, knowing fully well you can probably read him like an open book. you laugh hard at this, and haechan realizes how much he likes hearing you laugh, hearing how you’re laughing at his jokes. he realizes he’s getting in too deep when he doesn’t just have these sexual thoughts about you, but also thoughts of just being around you feel like they’re enough.

“we’re almost there, just a few more minutes,” haechan says, and he kind of wants you both to stay like this in the comfort of his car. he’s used to it now, talking to you in this small bubble. he feels a little less shy, a little more like the man he thought he was last night.

“that’s good,” a yawn cuts you off, “i was getting a little tired of being in here.”

“getting bored of me that fast?” he teases, happy with how he’s opening up.

you softly laugh, “no, it’s just that i fell asleep kinda late last night. kept thinking about this essay i don’t know how to start.”

he hums at that, “no, i get it. i was up late last night, too.” and as soon as he says it, he regrets it. there’s a small chance you might ask him what he was doing, but there’s also a big chance you might just agree and move on. he hopes, he prays that you could just talk about that essay-

“what were you up to so late?” you ask, no harm behind your words.

he feels hot at the back of his neck, his grip tightens on the wheel as he tries to come up with an answer. well, he knows what the answer is, fucking a fleshlight to the thought of you, but he can’t exactly say that. “well- there was- no, still is-” he takes a breath before speaking again, “there’s a special event for this game i play online. i was stuck at my desk all day,” he nervously laughs, trying to deflect his own thoughts.

you brush past his words, seemingly convinced, “you’ll have to teach me how to play sometime.”

he nods, smiling due to the image in his head. buying another gaming chair, seated right next to you as you clumsily press down on the keys on his keyboard. he’ll groan in frustration with you when you die, he’ll laugh when you absolutely miss a shot, he'll celebrate your first win. he’ll plant a messy kiss to your cheek as you thank him for teaching you. he’ll do it all.

he lets you know which is his apartment complex, “it’s not anything crazy, but it’s done what it needs to do.”

“i’m sure it’s fine, probably better than how my roommate leaves the apartment looking,” you joke, and he wonders if you’d say yes if he asked you to move in one day. of course, he knows this is literally the first day he's talked to you, but he can’t keep these feelings from floating around in his head.

he parks his car and you both head inside. it’s relatively silent, save for the small gasp you let out at how the inside looks nice. once you make it to the elevator, he presses the seventh floor button. he didn’t really think about it before, but he realizes how nice you smell. if you were already dating, he’d hold you in a backhug, pressing his nose to your neck, inhaling your scent as the elevator rolls up. but for now, all he can do is rock back and forth on his heels as he waits for the elevator doors to open, freeing his mind from your scent.

you both safely make it to his apartment and he fishes out his keys from his jacket pocket. he unlocks the door, holding it open for you as you thank him and step inside. he flicks on the light switch and you stand there, taking in his apartment.

it’s simple enough for a man in college. it reflects how you see him, and you can’t help the grin that forms on your face, “this is just like you, haechan.”

he’s a little nervous, hands slightly sweaty seeing you in his apartment, “good or bad?”

“good! it also smells nice in here.”

your comment surprises him a little. he doesn’t really use any candles or sprays, which sounds gross, but he also doesn’t leave his place messy. he doesn’t like artificial scents, too much for his nose and gives him small headaches. as far as he’s concerned, what you’re smelling is purely him. this realization makes his heart beat a little faster, the back of his neck becoming hot.

“thank you,” a genuine smile crosses his face, and you beam back at him, “you can put your stuff here, we can study here in the living room.”

you move to sit in front of the small coffee table next to his couch. you look nice in his place, like you’ve always been there. you unload your items, looking up to him and patting the spot right next to you. “i’m gonna go to my room really quick, i just need to check on something.”

you playfully tell him to hurry and he salutes you, trotting to his room. he quietly locks the door and assesses the state of his room. it’s not horribly messy, so he leaves it be. his conscious tells him to go to the restroom and freshen up a little. he looks at himself in the mirror, his face reflecting back at him. he remembers last night, in this exact spot, wishing you were there with him as he got off to you. except now, you’re here, and he feels a little guilty.

he moves to wash his hands and splatters some water in his face. he huffs, then messes with his hair, trying to make it look a little better for you. when he feels ready, he walks out of the restroom, and takes one last peek into his room. though he was begging for your touch last night, he’s content just with your presence here, happy that you decided on your own that you wanted to be here with him.

when haechan meets you back in his living room, it feels natural. he softly calls out your name and you turn around, a smile already plastered on your face. he smiles back, moving to the spot right next to you. it’s nerve wracking being so close to you, but for your sake, he pushes his nerves back as far as he can.

for the next hour, you both sit there talking about what was discussed during the lecture. it turns out he did in fact miss quite a lot of notes, having to sheepishly copy down the ones you’ve written. you lightly scold him for not paying attention, and he can’t help let his mind wander to how you might scold him during sex.

he also can’t help but just be a little distracted. nodding along to your words while his eyes trail down to your lips. how your thigh is pressed snugly against his. how your hands brush over his while you explain your notes to him. he’s not sure if you’re doing this on purpose, but his deprived mind can’t help but hope. haechan is enamored with you, he wishes he could kiss you right here, pull you onto his lap and just enjoy how close you are to him.

after a few more minutes, you stretch just as you did in the car, which makes haechan clear his throat. “fifteen minute break, haechan,” you remind him while fighting back a yawn.

“do you want anything to eat or drink? i just realized i never even offered you anything when you came in,” haechan frowns, causing you to giggle from your end. you stand up from your place and stretch your arms up, causing the bottom of your top to ride up, exposing your midriff. his breath gets caught in his throat as he just stares, all the way until your soft skin is hidden once more.

“i think i’m good for now,” the way you’re looking at him makes him feel like he was caught staring, “but maybe just the restroom?”

“yeah, um, it’s connected to my bedroom so i’ll just… show you the way.” his hands are getting sweaty again. he tries to hide how guilty he feels, and if you were to put your palm to his cheek, you would feel how warm he was.

he leads you to his bedroom while you trail behind him. you smile to yourself with how nice he’s being with all this, showing you how much he likes you. you’re about to see his room, something that could be considered private for a lot of people. you put your focus back to him, staring at how broad he looks from the back. if only he could turn around and see how badly you want him too.

he opens the door for you, and you gasp out in amazement, pulling a shy giggle out of haechan. you don’t miss how shaky his hand is when he reaches for the door handle, “the restroom is over here, i can wait back in the living room if you’d like.”

“no, it’s fine! wait for me out here so you can give me a room tour when i’m done,” you say before closing the door. as soon as it’s closed, he starts freaking out. he’s room looks fine, but it just… doesn’t feel fine? he’s so scared that there might be something out of place, even if he knows it looks fine. he calms himself down and moves to sit down on his gaming chair. while he waits for you, he practices what he wants to say while giving you a mini tour of his room.

once you come out, you spot him lounging on his chair. he looks so good when he’s in his natural state, different from the haechan you’re used to seeing in class. when he meets your eyes, he looks a little nervous, but puts on a more confident demeanor.

“are you ready for this?” he asks, and you nod excitedly at his words, “so there’s my bed, my gaming setup, closet, dresser, and tv. boom. done.”

you laugh hard at him, “there’s no way!”

he’s laughing alongside next you, body leaning into you without even knowing, “i did what you asked! it’s not my fault i’m a simple man with simple needs.”

“so like, no explanation or anything? just an ‘i live here’ kinda vibe?”

“exactly, this is pure vibes. nothing more and nothing less.” your body presses against his side while you’re laughing, and he just lets it happen. he’s glad that he’s beginning to be more comfortable around you. he lets you walk around a bit, let’s you hover over his desk, too scared to touch anything on it.

“show me the game you were talking about! i can’t believe you let me take away some of your precious gaming time by coming over.” you say, motioning for him to sit down on his chair again.

he obliges, sitting down on his chair and turns on his computer. “i’d only do that for special occasions, so… i had to do it this time, too.” he doesn’t look at you when he says it, but you can tell he’s embarrassed by his own words, his ears turning red.

once the game boots up, he lets you know about the basics of overwatch and its seasonal events. he swears that he’s good at the game and that you would end up a pro player if you let him teach you. even though he’s explaining all this to you, you don’t really get all the terms he’s saying. you’re just happy that he’s letting you in on his hobbies.

while he’s going through the tutorial for you, your attention turns back to his room. it feels like him, very simple decoration and a gray-scale color scheme fill his room. you can tell he spends most of his time at his desk, more decorated and colorful than any other part of his room. when you scan his room one last time, you spot a picture frame on his nightstand. you quietly slip away from his lecturing of the game.

haechan doesn’t realize it, but at some point, you moved away from him. it isn’t until he hears a loud woah! and a small thump, to which he turns around and spots you by his bed, holding onto the edge of it to hold your balance. he feels his heart thump in his chest, you being too close to his bed for comfort.

“you okay?” haechan asks, trying to hide how shaky his voice is.

“i’m good, just tripped on something trying to see what was on your nightstand.” and while you're crouched on the floor trying to calm yourself, you see what you tripped on. a corner of a box. you didn’t mean to intrude, but you subconsciously pull it out from under his bed. inside it contained something you never thought you would see. you stand back up, still looking down at the content of the box.

something doesn’t feel right to haechan. you’re staring down still, a shocked look all over your face. this doesn’t feel right at all. he haphazardly stands up, not sure if he should move towards you or not. “what’s wrong?”

“haechan…” you say his name, your voice coming out a lot quieter and breathier than you mean it to.

he takes a step forward before he sees you reach down, your back now towards him. he says your name quietly and your face turns towards him. “haechan… can i ask you what this is?”

you’re holding his fleshlight. his fleshlight. the fleshlight he quite literally used to cum with last night to the thought of you. he feels dizzy, suddenly unable to breathe. how did you even find that? he swears he hid it back under his bed last night. are you going to hate him? will you think he’s the most disgusting person on the planet?

his thoughts are silenced by your voice, “do you use it, haechan?” you fully face him now, your face devoid of any emotion.

“i don’t- i don’t know what…” he could cry, really. he’s shaking, too scared to form a proper sentence. this feels like the ultimate karma, the person of his desire finding out his secret. you don’t even know what he’s done to it, you don’t know he fucked it with the thought of you in his mind. you creep closer to him, until he falls back into his chair to move away from you.

you move to stand in front of him, looking down at how he cowers under you. “did it feel good, haechan?”

“w-what?” his voice is light, breath too heavy.

“did it feel good fucking it, haechan?” you slowly lower yourself onto his thighs, and he goes rigid under you. he’s not sure how to feel right now, he’s scared but you’re sitting on top of him, waiting patiently for his answer. you know you won’t get it like this though, not when he’s frozen with you on top of him.

“tell me you don’t want this and i’ll stop,” your eyes scan his face for any hesitation, and he stares back at you with a dazed look in his eyes. before you know it, he lurches forward and closes the space between you with a kiss. he tries to deepen it, but before any of this can escalate, you say, “not like this, tell me with your words how much you want this.”

“want this,” he tries to lean forward again but you stop him, “want this so bad- want you so bad.”

you smile, “good answer.”

you lean forward to kiss him, and he feels how close you are to sitting on top of his bulge. he realizes that this is very real, and instead of just fantasizing about it, he can pull you closer, let your warmth sit right on top of his dick as he kisses you. he uses this opportunity to deepen it. he tilts his head a bit more, tongue tracing the inside of your mouth. it’s a bit messy, but you can’t help but like that about haechan.

you’re quick to let his tongue explore the inside of your mouth, his shy demeanor taken over by his desperation. all while this is happening, he begins to move your hips for you, rocking you slowly back and forth onto his dick. a small groan leaves his mouth for the first time today, and you smile sweetly into the kiss. your hands also begin to move, one moving to the side of his neck and the other moving up to his hair.

you can tell he’s running out of breath pretty fast, and when you feel him move away to breathe, you tug lightly onto his hair. what you get is a breathy whine and his hips rutting up into yours. you gasp in surprise, and haechan loves the sound too much to where he excitedly tries to kiss you again. he misses, kissing the corner of your mouth as you giggle at him. he’s not even embarrassed, whatever you enjoy, he’ll like too.

a few minutes pass like this and his hands are still around your hips. they squeeze and push you around, but he doesn’t move them from that spot. you take your hands to the tops of his and move them up so that they’re under your shirt. he pulls his mouth away from you to stare back at you, wordlessly asking if he can touch some more. you nod, and you move to pull off your shirt.

he stares. he’s not shy with it, either. his eyes are fixated on the curves of your body, your chest that's covered by the bra you’re wearing. you’re really everything he dreamt of and more, he thinks. he has no control of his body anymore, so when he moves to settle in the crook of your neck while his hands try to touch as much of you as possible, he doesn’t try to stop it.

he inhales your scent sharply, presses his nose down onto your neck in order to savor how good you smell. his hands continue moving before they stop underneath the cup of your bra. you whisper for him to take it off, his shaky hands moving to your back. he’s a little confused with how it works, never once having to take it off himself. he keeps trying though, and you think his persistence is cute.

your hands move to your back to help him out, unclasping your bra and letting it slowly slide off of you. haechan takes this in, drinking up the sight of your bare chest. his hands rest at your sides, his body turning against him at the sight of your skin. you laugh at him before pressing a kiss to the pulse point on his wrist, encouraging him to continue. he does, he lets all the pent up frustration from your boobs take over, placing his hands over them, groping lightly.

you arch your back into his touch, moaning out his name. he looks up at you, gauging your reaction when he rolls your nipples in his fingers. he feels you grind down hard onto him, hands moving up onto his biceps and nails digging in. it hurts him a little, but it blends into a light pleasure. you look a mess on top of him, moaning into his ear how good it feels. he’s panting lightly, you being almost too overwhelming for him to handle.

he realizes the dull pain from your nails on his biceps is gone, and his feels your cold fingertips trail under his shirt. his stomach twitches at the feeling, his movement on your chest halting for just a moment. he continues though, moaning out a, “keep touching me. like it so much.”

so you continue. your hands touch over the soft skin of his stomach, feeling the light hairs trailing down to his cock. you feel his pretty waist, having a small grip on it to help placate you. your hands move up to his chest, and you look up at him with puppy eyes, asking if you could slide it off. he nods quickly and removes his shirt for you, letting you have free access to do whatever you want.

you moan out softly at the sight of his pretty skin. he continues his ministrations on you, and you just stare at his body. you’re almost tempted to just fall completely on him, letting him do whatever he’d want with you. but you still have half a mind, and you look back to his chest. you run your nails along the expanse of the newly exposed skin, his muscles twitching under the feeling. your hands move back up, and the urge to hear him whimper is too high.

haechan thinks he’s on cloud 9 right now, happily rocking into you and touching your chest like he always imagined he would. it’s not until he feels a pinch to his nipples that he lets out a loud whimper followed by your name, hips roughly bucking up into you. you stare at him, getting the exact reaction that you wanted. his arms move to cover his face, and he lets out a weak more, please, much to your excitement.

your fingers move back to his nipples and he realizes how much he loves this. he’s never done this to himself, nor did it happen the one time he had sex. he lets you work on him, he can tell how much you’re enjoying his reactions. choked back moans and high-pitched whimpers fill the air, his hips mindlessly rutting up into you. he just lets you do whatever you want, and the thought of this fills you with excitement.

you can feel how hard he is under you. he humps slowly onto you, letting you feel every inch of his cock. it feels good, and if it weren’t for how concentrated you were on his chest, you would’ve already been begging for him to fuck you. the thing is, you can begin to feel him twitch under you. you can tell he’s close, moans of your name and him asking you to continue is all you can hear. you begin rolling your hips onto him again, adding more stimulation on more parts of his body.

his hands move over to grip your ass, grinding you quickly down on him. he’s moaning straight to your ear, incoherent sentences mumbled out, and as much as you want to cum like this, there’s something else you’d like to do. you let him get close to cumming, you let him dig his blunt nails into you, you let him whimper your name into your ear. right when he’s about to cum, you pull away from him completely.

“do you trust me?” you ask, pretty smile planted on your face.

haechan can barely hear you, his orgasm being ripped away from him. in one moment, he had your warm body all over him, and in another, it was all taken away. his ears are slightly ringing and his dick is twitch heavily in his sweats, his body aching to be with yours again.

you can tell he didn’t hear what you said, so you put your finger under his chin to make him look straight at you. you repeat your question and he agrees quickly, desperation clearly taken over. you sit on the corner of his bed, asking him to come and sit with you. when he does, laying on his back while sitting up on his elbows, you position yourself to where you’re laying between both of his legs. he looks down at you expectantly, eyes filled with lust and a twinge of love.

you smile sweetly, and you pull out what you were hiding behind your back. his fleshlight.

he groans, almost telling you to put it away in embarrassment. it’s cute that he’s rendered like this because of a toy. you shush him, calming his nerves. “i just wanna make you feel good,” your hand trails up his thigh, dangerously close to his hard cock, “you said you trust me, right?”

seeing you like this, like he’s seen in all his fantasizing and dreaming, he can’t say no to you. not when you’re looking at him so nicely, a soft pout formed on your lips. he wants to reach down and kiss you, but his curiosity wins. what are you going to do?

his question is answered when you rub your hand over his clothed dick, earning you a soft whimper. you know he’s worked up, no use in continuing teasing him when he’s probably on the verge of cumming. you ask if you can take his sweats off, and he immediately moves to take them off for you. he leaves his boxers on, and you can see how hard he is and how he strains against them. you can’t stop the smirk that forms on your face.

he’s breathing heavily and all you’ve done so far are some light touches. he can feel himself leaking when he takes off his sweats, and when he looks down, there’s an embarrassing wet patch of precum on the front of his boxers. he’s thankful you don’t comment on it, but what he doesn’t expect is for you to lean forward and lick at the patch. he moans out, your tongue pushing the fabric roughly against his tip.

your hand moves to grip his base all while you begin to suckle on his tip. the stimulation is too much, too suddenly, and he bucks his hips into your face. you smile up at him, your eyes seemingly calling him cute. as much as he wants to shove his cock in your mouth already, he lets you take your time, relishing in how long he’s wanted you like this. you can have him for as long as you want, he thinks, he has all the time in the world with you now.

you eventually pull off his boxers, but you move a bit away from him. he gives you a confused look, but your smile puts all his worries away. he’s given you all his trust, letting you do what you want freely. he only freaks out a little when you pull out his fleshlight, a small smile forming on your face when you say, “gonna ask you some questions, i’ll help you feel good if you answer me.”

he nods slowly, and you reach down and squeeze him one last time. before you start, you ask if there’s any lube and he quickly reaches into his nightstand’s drawer to hand it to you. you have to hide back your laugh at how desperate he is as you squeeze lube into the fleshlight. he looks nervous, but it all fades away when you slide the slick fleshlight over his cock.

his tip is at the entrance of the toy when you ask, “why do you have this?”

“d-didn’t buy it. my friend bought it for me on my birthday…”

“your friend must’ve known you were a pervert, hm?” you say as you push the toy slowly down on his length, eliciting a long groan out of him. letting him sit with the feeling.

you ask another question, “you use it, right?” and before he can deny the claim, you interrupt him, “do you think about me when you do?”

the blush on his face darkens and trails down to his neck. his eyes shut, too embarrassed to answer the question that’s already apparent. to his surprise, you begin to move the toy quickly onto him, catching him off guard. his hips stutter forward as his arm reaches to stop your movements. his body is contrasting his own mind, and all you can do is silently laugh.

“better question,” you say as you continue your attack on him, “have you had sex before?”

his eyes open to look back down at you, eyes pleading with you to save him from embarrassment. you just shake your head, slowing down your movements to a stop. whines fill the room as he tries to move on his own. you move to pin his hips down, stopping his movements. “answer my questions or i’ll leave so you can cum on your own again.”

a small moan leaves his mouth as he tilts his head back. he refocuses on you, mouth opening, but nothing comes out. you slowly twist the toy at the base of his cock, your other hand moving to fondle his balls. you can tell he’s fighting back from moving without you telling him to, so he tries to let go of all his embarrassment before he speaks again. “i’ve… only had sex once. in freshman year.”

with delight, you begin moving the fleshlight slowly on him again, encouraging him to continue. “i’ve… thought of you.”

he mumbles the last words, and even though you could hear what he said, you ask him to repeat himself clearly. “t-thought of you, fucked my fleshlight thinking of you.”

his words send shivers down your spine, and you resume the quick movements of the toy back onto his dick. he thanks you without question, and in return, you move to press small, wet kisses to the inside of his thighs. his hips fuck up into the toy as you continue your kisses, haechan feeling overwhelmed by your proximity. he’s been so good, so you decide to reward him with some of your own information.

“how would you feel knowing i fucked myself with a toy, too? imagining it was you fucking my tight pussy?” a choked out moan leaves his lips as he begins moving quickly against the toy. “wished you could’ve heard me moaning your name, wished it was you fucking me instead.”

at this point, you’re just holding the toy in place for him. squeezing it around his dick, his hips shoving into it, wishing it was you. he’s close to cumming, he can feel it, his dick throbbing, heart hammering in his chest. he’s about to start begging for you to let him cum, but before he can, you say, “guess that makes us both perverts, huh? i like you just as much as you like me.”

he cums on the spot. you quickly pull the toy off of him, the sight of his cum shooting all over his chest, whimpers of your name mixed with frustration fill the air. you just lay there, laughing at him while he tries to save his ruined orgasm. you pry his hands off of himself and he just shuts his eyes, trying to catch his breath. your tongue reaches out to clean the leftover cum on his tip, and he yelps at the sensation, so you move up to clean the cum off of his chest.

once you finish, you reach up to softly kiss him. it contrasts your previous movements, and he’s stuck thinking about how you said you like him. he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, scared that you didn’t really mean what you said. he lets you kiss him, hands at your waist, lips pressing softly together.

he pushes you onto your back, laying your head softly onto his pillow. he stares at you openly, clad in just your panties. his mouth runs dry, he never thought he’d get to see you like this in his room, looking only at him. his shaky hands reach forward, one resting at your waist while the other reaches for the top of your panties, waiting for you to say he can pull them down.

you let him, and he does. he really wishes he could shove them in his drawer, keeping it as a memory of this day, using them when thinking of you. he pushes them aside and looks down at you. your legs spread open for him to see. it’s your turn to feel a little shy, the guy who always stares at you in class now staring at your most intimate parts.

“show me how… show me how to touch you…” haechan whispers out to you, and you bite back a smile.

“was fucking someone else not enough? fucking a fleshlight wasn’t enough either?” you retort, and haechan shakes his head in embarrassment, but you can feel his dick twitch against your thigh in interest at your words. you do what he asked, one hand slithering down to your aching pussy.

he watches closely as your fingers circle around the little nub, watching as your hips twitch a little at the stimulation. “it feels best when you rub me here,” a small moan escapes your lips and you feel him subconsciously rub his dick into your thigh.

when you feel yourself becoming sufficiently wet, you move your fingers to your entrance, teasing your twitching hole. “you’re gonna put your fingers in here, in and out of me. bet they’d feel so nice.”

he nods along dazedly, and you move to grab his fingers to replace yours. “go ahead, haechan.”

it’s so warm, so wet. he can’t believe he thought the fleshlight was good enough, not when you exist. when he pushes two fingers in, you slightly clench around his fingers and he has to hold back a moan. he can’t believe you’re letting him do this, and he looks down at you, your face scrunched in pleasure.

he scissors his fingers inside you like he does with his fleshlight. he’s not too inexperienced, learning a bit from porn and his fleshlight. it just feels so different, different than how his toy feels and how porn makes it out to be. fingering you feels better than the only time he’s had sex, all because it’s you. you’re under him, telling him how good his fingers feel, letting him do what he feels is right, like how it was always supposed to be.

he arches his fingers and sees your immediate reaction. you tell him to keep moving and he complies quickly. your moans are distracting him, and he realizes that he’s pathetically humping your thigh. he wouldn’t mind cumming again, not when it would be with you.

clearing him out of his hazy thoughts, you ask him for more, you need more. he knows what you need. like a habit from his fleshlight, his other hand reaches down, thumb beginning to circle at your clit. you let out a whimper of his name, and he rubs his thumb against you faster. you feel so good around his fingers, clenching harshly, while he ruts against you languidly.

you feel too close to cumming. that damn fleshlight, you think, gave him too much practice. you feel like jelly, mind almost numb from how good he’s doing. you moan out to tell him just how good he’s doing, and he whimpers at your praise. you can feel something wet against your thigh, and you look down to see him mindlessly humping you. you don’t want to cum like this, you need him to be inside you.

“s-stop! please, haechan,” you whine out, tapping at his wrist to get his attention.

he immediately removes himself from you, concern painted all over his face. “are you okay?” he’s a little breathless himself, “did i do something wrong?”

“n-nothing wrong, just wanna cum on your cock instead.”

at your words, he lurches forward to kiss you, slotting himself between your legs. he kisses you hard, excited at the prospect of being inside you. if his fingers in you felt that good, then he can’t imagine how it would feel for you to be wrapped around his pulsing cock.

he tries to ignore how he can feel his dick rubbing against your core, your slick making a mess between the both of you. when his tip hits your clit, you both moan out in unison. he’s getting impatient, but at the same time, he doesn’t want this to end. he doesn’t know if this will happen again, doesn’t know if he’ll ever see you again after this.

“please, haechan. need you so bad. need to feel you in me, been waiting for so long.”

“y-yeah? made me wait for you, wanted you so bad. didn’t know you wanted me as much as i wanted you,” he says softly to you, and you realize he’s gotten more comfortable talking to you. when he’s not whimpering out to you, he’s able to talk back. you like seeing him like this, how he’d be with his friends, how he’d be with you.

“you’re acting like you made any big moves when all you did was stare at me and fuck a fake pussy,” you deadpan. he scoffs, but you can see the way his cheeks turn red again. when he twitches against you, you look up to gauge his reaction. you can tell he’s holding back, eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed.

“condom?” he asks.

you shake your head softly, “wanna feel all of you.” you hear him let out a shaky exhale, your words flooding his brain.

you softly call his name, “are you ready?”

he nods, sitting back onto his knees, looking down at the sight of the both of you. when he doesn’t immediately move, you ask, “is there something wrong, haechan? we don’t need to do this if you don’t want to-”

“no!” shocked at how loud he was, he quickly apologizes. “it’s not that i don’t want to! it’s just… i don’t want to seem so desperate…”

you reach up to place your hand on his cheek, thumbing at the moles scattered across it. he nuzzles into your touch, placing a quick kiss to your thumb. you speak up, “you don’t realize how bad i want this. like i said, there are too many times i’ve cum thinking about you.”

you move to line him up at your entrance, haechan taken aback at your forwardness. he moves on top of you, holding up his body over yours. you nod at him, telling him that you’re ready. before he does, you reassure him, “so many times i’ve thought of you on top of me like this, now i finally get to see it.”

feeling slightly embarrassed at your words, he slowly pushes in. a loud whimper escapes him, body immediately falling apart at your warmth. his arms give out, his body falling onto yours. his head falls to the crook of your neck, and you can feel his warm breath hit your already hot skin. his hands move to grip onto your sides, and you feel like he might leave faint bruises. the real thing is so much better than what he wished for last night.

you’re no better though. your hands move to his back for support, nails digging harshly into his skin. your head pushes back into the pillow, mouth spilling out whines and whimpers. you can feel how deep he is in you, how he’s twitching inside of you. if you had known he was this good, you would’ve just talked to him first. “please m-move, haechan.”

he can hear you, but it doesn’t register in his head. you clench around him to gain his attention, to which you get a dazed look in response. “need you to move, please, wanna feel you.”

when he realizes what you want, he slowly pushes himself up, hesitantly swiveling his hips against you. he lets out a small whimper, but he knows you need this just as much as he needs you. he tries to set a pace, but you can tell he’s not properly in the right headspace to make calculated movements. he’s letting his body do what it wants, and you moan out at the sight of how desperate he looks.

he continues fucking you, hips thrusting and stuttering when he feels you clench around him. you want to hear him though, you need him to talk to you. “haechan-” a whimper cuts you off, “please tell me, tell me what you’re thinking…”

he does hear you this time, and he has to suck in a large breath. his hips continue, and he tries to make out proper sentences, but he knows it won’t come out right. “feels so good- better than i could’ve ever imagined-”

“better than your fleshlight?”

“s-so much better. can feel how you’re sucking me in, can feel how wet you are.” he’s babbling, you can only catch onto some of the words he’s saying. he’s stuck between wanting to look at where you two are connected and how your face contorts in pleasure. “please let me cum in you, thought of it so much.”

“yeah? thought of filling up my pussy with your cum?” he nods at your words, punctuated with short, better timed thrusts that hit that spot inside you, your nails dragging down his back. he moans out at the feeling, and you realize he just might like a little pain.

“couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect you would f-feel around me, couldn’t help but think how i needed to show you how much i like you,” he’s moving faster now, turned on by how you’re affected by his thoughts, “always came so fast in my fleshlight at the thought.”

you’re whimpering out at his words, so sure that he’s pussy drunk that he doesn’t even realize what he’s saying. you take it all in though, relishing in how much he was really holding back when he was with you earlier.

“fucked my fleshlight just last night thinking about you,” you gasp out at this, and he feels how you clench around him, hips stuttering against you. “i didn’t even mean to, just needed you so bad.”

you pull him down to a kiss. it’s so messy, tongues meshing against each other while drool slips past both of your lips. your hands move to his hair, now wavy with how sweaty he’s gotten. you tug at it when you feel him hit that spot again. he pushes himself deep inside, hips stilling against you at the feeling, “gonna cum soon, need to cum soon, please-”

“make me cum, too. please, wanna cum with you so bad, haechan.”

he has to forcibly stop himself from cumming from hearing your voice. a shaky hand moves from your side down to your clit, thumb shakily pressing against you. you clench harshly, and he can’t stop the small thrust that presses him against you deeper. he wants to keep moving, but he knows if he thrusts a few more times, he’ll cum without a second thought. “so wet, don’ even need to do anything to help me move.”

you moan, your own hips moving up to fit more of him inside you. you don’t care how desperate you look, fully knowing haechan probably likes the look. he subconsciously moves against you, can’t fight against how good you feel. “close! ‘m so close, haechan! please, cum in me, baby!”

at the petname, haechan starts his movements again, roughly thrusting into you. he’s not thinking about it, hips slamming against yours, the only thought being cumming in your tight pussy. you feel the same, heat all over your body as you practically begin screaming for him.

“gonna give you everything. g-gonna show everyone that you're mine, how i’m yours. won’t let anyone take you away from me.” you whimper out, the knot in your stomach becoming untangled as you let your orgasm wash over you. you clench against him, walls repeatedly tightening around his cock. he can only continue so much before he cums too, warmth filling up your insides.

he’s collapsed on top of you again, hands making it to your boobs, gripping on for support. he tweaks your nipples, helping you ride out your orgasm while he fights through his. he’s so sure he’s pathetically whimpering and moaning out mixtures of your name and how good it feels, but he could care less. he’s focused on how tight you feel, how you’re milking his cock, neediness still apparent after you’ve cum.

when he slows down, he has to move away from you, your twitching pussy overstimulating him too much. what he’s more concerned about though is the aftermath. in a daze, he slowly pulls out of you. he feels the creaminess of his cum around his dick as he pulls out, watching how it slowly spills out of you. like something that looks so practiced, he moves his fingers to gather his cum, slowly pushing it inside of you as you softly moan out.

he feels the soft clench of your pussy, and his dick twitches in response. you hum, taking him out of his daze. he looks up at you, then back down at his fingers, realizing what he’s doing. “s-sorry. just… wanted to see… what would happen,” he mutters at the end, not really knowing what to say.

he tries not to feel awkward. he really tries. it dawns on him that you both really spoke for the first time today, and now he just finished having sex with you. it’s not that he regrets it, but he’s scared, scared that he might’ve just messed up a possible relationship with you. he scratches the back of his head, too preoccupied with his thoughts.

“aren’t you gonna lay back down with me?” you ask, a playful but tired smile on your face.

once he realizes what you said, it all dawns down on him. it doesn’t always have to be so complicated. sometimes, all he needs is a little direction. he sees you laying down on his bed, and it just feels so right. crawling in next to you in bed, covering you both under his sheets feels normal. shy smiles being exchanged to one another as you cuddle into him, it feels like you both have done this before.

it’s okay if it doesn’t feel so timely, he thinks. he has all the time in the world for you now to properly fall in love with you.

taglist: @vqlentinez @froggyforyoongi @snflwrhaerecs4u @jenodreamer @hanyujinshoe @haechankisser @liliansun @jadethevampress @emothugsworld

#haechan smut #haechan scenarios #haechan fic #haechan x reader #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct fic #nct smut #nct scenarios

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