#but I also really don’t want to wear a dress to this thing I already know I’ll be misgendered at the whole time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mygnolia · 15 days

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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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mrsbarnesblog · 11 months

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masterlist ko-fi ao3

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x PR manager! Reader

Summary: When you became Avenger’s PR manager, you basically got your dream job, but one particular man, who had been staring at you every single time you were around, made you wonder whether it was because he hated or liked you.

Word count: 6.8K

Warnings: smut, bucky is obsessed with your short skirts, bucky is recovering, grumpy x sunshine, good friend natasha romanoff, office sex, oral sex (f), unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, pet names

Author's note: ‼️so if you haven't seen my previous post, this is my new account. you may have seen this work on my old one (@inmyicyworld) but it was terminated and @support doesn't respond to me. please, follow and share this work. I'm going to reupload all of my old fanfics and hope to get your support ❤️

The work at the Avengers Tower wasn’t what you expected it to be. Tony Stark found you while you were working for another company a little bit more than a month ago. He was amazed by the way you were dealing with problems, by your charisma, and by your ability to find a common language with everyone. That’s how he knew that he had to have you as his partner and a part of the team.

The next day, you got a call directly from Tony, asking you to quit your job and accept his offer to work as Avenger’s PR manager. It would be an understatement to say that your jaw dropped to the floor when you heard your salary.

He said that you were totally worth it and that working with a group of such different people was not easy, but he was sure that you would be perfect at this. So on that exact day, you decided to take a risk and accept the challenge.

One thing that you hated about your previous job was the strict dress code. It was simply far from your style because you hated wearing the same basic and boring clothes every day. Tony said that it was the last thing that he cared about, and in that building, no one was obligated to wear certain clothes.

You knew that it was your lucky ticket.

He was actually really friendly and funny in person. You talked a lot during your first day while he was showing you all the necessary places in the tower: your office, his lab, common rooms and kitchens, avenger’s rooms, and even a beautiful garden on the roof. By the way, Tony allowed you to decorate your office however you wanted and gave you the number of the person who was responsible for this.

In short, it was perfect.

You were giddy with excitement on your first actual day of work. According to the plan, you had to meet with the Avengers and then arrange a few meetings for Tony.

It felt like you spent hours before your mirror deciding what to wear. Your whole room was a mess, and when you finally completed your look, which consisted of a short black skirt, beige long sleeve and a brown leather jacket on top, it was already time to go.

Everyone in the room heard you before they saw you because of the sound of your heels clicking on the wood floor.

“Don’t tell me that this is our PR manager, Stark.” Black Widow looked you up and down with a smirk on her face. “You look good, hun. Finally, someone with a taste in this boring group of losers, besides me and Wanda, of course.”

“Hi.” You nicely smiled, not ready to get a compliment as soon as you stepped into the room.

“Ohh, she’s also the sweet one.” Another red-headed woman, Wanda, said with a smile.

“You both, shut up.” Tony stood up from the armchair with a pack of chips in one hand and threw the other one over your shoulder. “Want some?” He asked you, showing the food, but you slightly shook your head. “Whatever… Now, you all listen here, this is Y/N; she’s our new PR manager. I stole her from someone because she’s incredibly smart and good at her job. Starting from this moment, she’s going to cover up your asses and organize all this stupid media stuff.” You blushed at his words but were still silent. “So, this is Natasha, Wanda, Steve, Bucky, and Th—wait, you already know them, right?”

“Yeah, of course I do.” You chuckled. “By the way, it’s nice to meet all of you. I hope we can work together, and I will have a chance to be helpful.” You took a look at all the Avengers in the room, and everyone looked at you with a smile except one person, whose eyes sent shivers down your spine.

When you looked at Bucky, you saw that his eyes were scanning your body with an unreadable expression, and you suddenly felt really weird in your short skirt. Your eyes met, and his famous death stare was really quite scary. He didn’t like you? You two were staring at each other for a few seconds, and you believe that the rest of the team noticed it because Steve loudly cleared his throat to get your attention.

He asked you a few questions about you, and Clint and Sam made a few jokes. Everything was fine as you all chatted for a little bit until Tony said that everyone should get ready for tomorrow’s mission, and you too have a lot to do.

You went back to your office only with the thought that, during this whole time, Bucky was staring at you like he wanted to burn a hole in your head.

Later that day, Bucky was sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of already-cold coffee while Steve was making himself dinner. It was quiet besides the sound of the cooking food, or at least Bucky didn’t listen to Steve’s words because he was too deep in his thoughts.

Well, he was mostly thinking about you and his mixed feelings about this interaction. As soon as you walked into the room, you had his whole attention. He couldn’t help but stare at your body, at your open legs, and at your smiley face. He knew that he sounded like a total creep and that it was inappropriate to look at other people this way, but he had never seen women dress this way. Was it normal right now? Was it new fashion trends or something? The only women that he had been interacting with for the past few years were women from Wakanda, and in the tower it was mostly Nat and Wanda, and he had never seen them dress like that. Or, at least, he just didn’t care enough to notice it.

When he saw you today, he felt something in him, and he didn’t like that feeling. It was something new, something that he had never experienced before, but his body became tense and his stomach tightened. It was weird.

“What, you're still trying to process her?” He was distracted from his thoughts by Sam, who came to the kitchen to grab a bottle of cold water from the fridge. Bucky looked at him and furrowed his brows when he saw a shitty smirk.

“What the fuck are you talking about? And why are you smiling like an idiot?” Bucky growled.

“Because you’re thinking about Y/N.” His words caught Steve’s attention, and he came closer.

“That’s why you two were staring at each other like that?” Steve said this while drying his hands with a towel. “Do you like her? I think she seems cute.”

“No, I don’t. She just looks... different.”

“Oh, the old man got excited by the beautiful woman and her short skirt.” Sam’s smile got even wider as he started teasing Bucky. “You know, I wanted to ask her out, but I can take a step back if you like her.” He leaned on the table so he could get under Bucky’s skin even more.

“I do not like her.”

“So you’re okay if I ask her out? Maybe I should go to her office right now.” Sam pretended like he was really thinking about this.

“Sam...” Steve said.

“You both are just getting on my fucking nerves.” Bucky’s chair almost fell to the floor when he angrily stood up. “Do whatever the fuck you want, I don’t care about you or her.” With these words, he stormed out of the room, and Sam started to laugh out loud.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” Steve shook his head like a disappointed mother whose kids always fight.

“That was fun, and maybe it’ll push him to ask her out. She’s hot, but not my type; I’m just trying to help this idiot.”

You have been working with the Avengers for over a month now. This work was literally a dream from any angle. You were making a lot of money, doing the job that you really liked, and found a lot of close friends.

Almost everyone on the team was very close to you. Natasha and Wanda were particularly your best friends. Sam was the funniest person you’ve ever met, and he always found time to tease you or to make a compliment. Bruce and Clint were like your uncles—a little bit old and annoying, but always with a piece of advice for you. A few times, you and Steve met at the gym when you came to work too early, so he was happy to train with you. Who would’ve thought that Captain America himself would teach you how to throw a punch?

The only pain in your ass was Bucky Barnes. Well, to be fair, he didn’t do anything. You’re not even sure that you heard his voice. He was always just staring. Any time that you came to the room and he was there, you either saw him from the corner of your eyes or felt his burning gaze on your back.

To this day, you had no problems with your job. You organized a few interviews for Tony and Steve, talked to the newspapers and magazines, and held some meetings, but right now, sitting on your white chair, you felt weirdly nervous.

Bucky had to come here any minute to talk about a recent accident. Apparently, he almost knocked out someone on the street. All the press and news sources were taking advantage of the situation and using loud headlines to cast a shadow on Bucky and get more views. “The Winter Soldier is back?”. “The Winter Soldier almost killed an innocent man on the street.”

It has been the biggest topic on the internet for the past few hours. Most of the people were furious and wrote too many inappropriate and rude things. So you asked FRIDAY to call Bucky so you could know the whole situation and give comments to the press as soon as possible.

You started thinking about what you should do, or, to be more honest, how to behave around Bucky, because a few days ago two red-headed women that you now considered your best friends assured you that he is in love with you and just doesn't know what to do with it.

You told them everything about his weird actions—that he always looked at you, checked your clothes, and stayed silent. Natasha and Wanda just looked at each other with smirks on their faces.

“Why are you looking at each other like that?” You arched an eyebrow and crossed your hands across your chest.

“Please, don't tell me that you don't understand his behavior.” Natasha looked at you and sipped her coffee.

Well, I wouldn’t have asked you if I knew the reason.”

“Honey, he lust likes you and thinks that you’re hot. You remember that he’s actually an old man, right? Women from his time didn’t dress like that, and you look really sexy.” Wanda’s words made Nat nod her head as you looked weirdly at both of them.

“That’s bullshit, Wanda. This can’t be true. I'm sure that he just doesn’t like me and thinks that I look too revealing. Or he just hadn’t had a girlfriend in a long time.”

“Some time ago, I came to the kitchen at like 2 a.m. just in my lingerie because I thought everyone was asleep. Barnes was sitting there with a book, and you know what? He just said “Hi” and didn’t even look at me again while I was making a sandwich. And when he sees you, he just can’t take his eyes away and stares like an idiot.”

You stayed silent, thinking about the girls' words, because everything seemed pretty reasonable.

“And what should I do?”

“I don’t know, seduce him or something.” Natasha just casually said it, and your eyebrows flew to your hairline.

“Wait, do you like him?” Wanda asked you, and Natasha huffed like it was obvious.

“I mean… he’s beautiful. I didn’t have a chance to talk to him, but Steve and Sam love him, and I trust their opinion.” You stopped trying to put together your thoughts. “To be honest, sometimes I think about the fact that he’s probably one of the hottest people I’ve ever seen. When we studied history at school, all the girls fell in love with America's Boy, and I with his best friend.”

“Then don’t wait. Just give him some hints, because I swear, for the ladies’ man, he’s too slow.” Natasha’s words made you smile. “Try to get closer to him; I don’t know, flash him with your boobs and look at the reaction. Push him a little bit. He’ll break.”

The loud knock on the door almost made you jump out of your chair.

“Come in.” You said this as you stood up and fixed your white dress and cardigan.

Bucky came probably to the lightest and most cozy room in the whole tower. A lot of white and pastel colors, comfy sofa and armchairs, and paintings on the wall. And in the middle of this was you—always perfectly looking, in heels, in a too-short dress, and with a smile on your face. He couldn't stop himself from looking at the smooth skin of your legs. It’s probably so soft...

“Em– Hi.” You awkwardly stood while his eyes were scanning your body. He didn’t answer; he just nodded. “So I think that we can sit there, it’s more comfortable.” You wave your hand at the sofa with a fluffy cover on it. “Do you want anything? Tea, coffee, water, soda?” Bucky just shook his head while he was trying to comfortably sit with a frown on his face.

You deeply inhaled while trying to be a professional. You didn’t know what was wrong with this man, but his behavior started to get on your nerves.

“Bucky, we can’t work together if you keep ignoring me. You can say if you don’t like something, because I don’t want to be on bad terms with anyone.” You sat across from him and crossed your legs.

“I don’t know what I should say.” His deep voice filled the room. Bucky took a pillow that was lying near him and started playing with the fringe. “I feel weird when I’m around you, and I don’t like it. I have thoughts that I shouldn’t have.” His eyes scanned your body once again, and you wondered if he was talking about what you thought.

“Can I do something to change it?”

“No.” He deeply inhaled. “It’s my own problem, and it’s not your job to try to fix it. Anyway, why am I here?”

“I think you know why. I need to ask you about the recent incident because I have a meeting with the press in less than an hour, and I have to give them a good reason why you did that. People didn’t take all that information too well.” You saw that Bucky sadly smiled and looked you directly in the eyes, making goosebumps appear on your skin. “So, tell me what’s happened.”

“You know that whatever you say won’t change people’s opinions about me, right? No one forgave me, and they’re still looking for a chance to call me a murderer.” He tried to hide behind a smile, but you saw everything written in his eyes. Bucky hurt himself with his own words.

“I understand how you feel about this whole situation, but we should address all those rumors because things might get worse.” You leaned on your knees with your hands, and Bucky’s eyes immediately fell on your boobs.

Push him a little bit. He’ll break.

You tried to hold back a smirk.

“Fuck.” He mumbled. “ I– um– I was walking from the coffee shop to the tower. It was another busy street with hundreds of people, but I still didn’t expect someone to touch me. That man jumped on my back or something, and my instincts just worked. I threw him over myself on the ground and put a hand on his throat. Turned out he wanted to take a picture. But I panicked because there are many people who want to take revenge and who might want to do it literally any second. I’m always ready for this.” He shrugged like it was nothing, but you could hear the pain in his voice.

You felt deeply sorry for the man before you. Even if he was cold and acted weird around you, you knew that it was his way to protect himself. After everything he came through, you couldn’t blame him.

“Do you still go to the therapist?” You gently asked.

“Yes, two times a week.” Bucky nervously ran his right hand through his hair while still holding your pillow in the metal one.

“Okay, that’s good; I can work with this information.” You nodded and reached for your journal on the coffee table. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Bucky. I really appreciate it. I’ll do my best to convince people that it was not your fault, okay?”

“Thank you, Y/N.” Bucky stood up, carefully putting your pillow in its place, and left your office without another word, while you were sitting there with a smile.

Maybe the girls were right.

After that day, everything between you and Bucky became even weirder. Yes, he wasn’t totally silent now, and you’ve got a few “Hi”, but his stares felt different.

It was like you two were playing some kind of game. Since you knew that he didn’t actually hate you, you tried to do as Natasha and Wanda said—get his attention and push more. And God, you loved that game.

Almost every day you found an opportunity or excuse to see him in common rooms or in the corridors of the Tower, and you made sure that Bucky noticed you. You wore tighter clothes, walked right past him, and looked at him with a smile. You knew that it was working because a few times Bucky just suddenly left the room while he was mumbling something.

It was almost 8 p.m., but you were still working on schedule for the next week. There was some kind of charity event, and Tony required you to convince everyone to go there because more Avengers can attract more sponsors and money. As always, Bucky was the one who refused to go there. He simply sees no reason for him to be there, and he doesn’t want to be there alone because he knows that Captain America will be the biggest star, and such a social butterfly as Sam will leave him in a second.

You decided that it would be better to talk to Bucky in person, but you didn’t want to lose a chance to get his attention, so you went by yourself instead of asking FRIDAY.

You looked in the small mirror to check your makeup and hair and went straight to where you knew Bucky was spending his evening. As you walked in a dark room filled with only light from the TV, you saw Sam and Steve sitting on the couch and Bucky on the armchair near them. You quietly walk to him and just casually sit on the armrest. His eyebrows flew to his hairline, and you heard that the chewing from the boys stopped. Bucky had no choice but to put his metal arm on your lower back.

“I need you in my office. You have to talk about the next charity event. Could you please give me some of your time?” You quietly asked and lowered yourself closer to him. Bucky was just staring at you for a few seconds, but then slightly nodded.

Bucky followed you to your office, not without getting smirks from the boys,and then stood near your table with his hands in his pockets.

“Don’t you want to sit?” You said and stepped closer to him.

“No.”

“Um– okay.” You took the papers from your table and stood in front of Bucky. “So, you know that there is going to be a charity event, and I’m responsible for getting all the Avengers there, and you are one of them.”

“I’m not going, I already told Tony.” He just shrugged.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not needed there. I’m not an actual hero, people have no interest in me, especially when there will be Iron Man, Captain America, and Thor, you know? Plus, I have no interest in sitting alone the whole night.” You saw that Bucky tried to be casual about it, but he just put salt on his own wound.

“Don’t say that, Bucky. There are people who want to see you there, you have a lot of fans. You know, I’m going there too, so if you don't mind, we can–”

“What game are you playing with me?” He interrupted you. Bucky straightened his shoulders, which made him look even bigger, and started moving closer to you, putting you in a trap between him and your desk.

“W– what do you mean?” You couldn't control your body as you started to tremble a little bit from the power that this man had. As soon as you bumped into the table, his hands landed on both sides of you, and his face was right in front of yours.

“Don’t act clueless, Y/N. I see what you’re doing.” He stopped for a second, studying your face. “You know, I tried to convince myself that you do all of this by accident, but now I’m sure that you’re just playing your little game. Am I right, doll?” You two were staring at each other, and you felt almost nauseous from different emotions.

He was so fucking beautiful up close. Piercing blue eyes, pink lips, and light stubble You know why many women thought that James Barnes was charming. If he had more confidence, he would’ve been unstoppable.

Your eyes slowly shifted lower to his arms and chest as you remained silent. He was big, with well-trained muscles that were seen through the tight black t-shirt. Both arms were stretched near you, so you had a really good opportunity to look at the smooth tanned skin and beautiful dark vibranium. You felt how your lower stomach tightened just from the thought of getting those pretty hands on your body…

You were pulled out of your head by a sudden movement of Bucky’s hand, which gripped your face and pushed your lips together. He was obviously dominating in the kiss, as if he were desperate to taste you. The tip of his tongue brushed over your lips, asking for entrance, which you happily gave him. The moan came out of you when Bucky moved away and looked you in the eyes, still holding your face.

“This whole fucking time I thought that I was a creep for looking at you, but now I know that you did everything on purpose, doll.” His eyes moved between your eyes and mouth. “All these short skirts and dresses that almost showed me everything underneath it, all these innocent smiles and looks... You did it to tease me?”

“Not at first...” You mumbled. “But you were acting so weird, and girls said that you liked me and just didn’t know what to do. I wanted to find out whether it was true or not.”

“Fuck, if I knew earlier that this was your plan, I would’ve bent you over the nearest surface, baby.” Bucky moved a little closer, brushing his lips over yours. “Do you know how fucking hot and gorgeous you are? I haven’t felt that way in many, many years. Just wanna kiss you and make you mine.”

“And what’s stopping you from this, Sargent?” You asked with a smile and moved your hand to the back of his neck to gently play with the baby hairs.

“You’re gonna be my death, doll face.” He mumbled before leaning closer and kissing you again.

This time, you started to touch each other's bodies. Bucky’s warm and cold hands landed on your thighs, playing with the hem of the skirt and rubbing your soft skin after he lifted you up a little bit and helped you sit on the table, staying in between your legs. Your own hands were moving up and down his broad chest, discovering all of his muscles.

“Bucky…” You whined into the kiss when his finger brushed against the edge of your already wet panties.

“Tell me.” Bucky moved away from your swollen lips and left a path of kisses down your neck. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.” He sucked a sensitive spot under your ear, which made you moan.

“I don’t know. Just do anything, please.” You both breathed heavily. You felt like you were too hot; your lower stomach ached, and your underwear was soaking wet. Bucky was looking at you with such lust in his eyes that you wanted him to destroy you.

“Lay back.” He ordered you as one of his hands went higher under your skirt and slid your black lace panties down your legs. You didn’t miss how Bucky shoved him into the back pocket of his jeans with a smirk on his face.

You quickly followed his instructions and just threw all the papers from our table on the floor. You’ll regret it later, but now you don't care. The sudden move of Bucky's metal arm grabbed and pulled your shirt, and all the buttons scattered on the floor, making you gasp in disbelief.

“Bucky! It was expensive.”

“Sorry, I’ll buy you whatever you want, I promise. But now I need to see you all.” He growled and fell to his knees before you. “Fuck, doll, such a pretty pussy. I’m gonna make a mess with her.”

Bucky’s hands grabbed both of your legs and threw them over his shoulders. He dragged your skirt higher, not wanting to take it off of you. His head fell on your right legs as he left a few kisses on your sensitive skin.

“Bucky please! Don’t tease me!” You desperately whined.

“I need a moment to appreciate both of you. I haven’t done it since the 40's, you know that?”

You wanted to say something, but his mouth on your most delicate part of your body left you speechless and made you grab his hair. Bucky’s tongue was gentle at first, just to get a taste of you and tease you a little bit. His tongue started to play with your clit, circling it and applying different pressures to find out what made your body twitch. It looked like he was enjoying it too; you felt deep grunts escaping his mouth as he was trying to catch every drop that came out of you.

Your loud moans filled the room as Bucky found the perfect place and made motions that made you see stars. A hand in his hair tightened even more when you felt one of his fingers at your entrance.

“M-hm, so wet and tight for me.” He pulled away a little bit, looking at how his two fingers came in and out of you, all shiny with your juices. His darkened eyes were firmly glued to your pussy, which was trying to get more, and his mouth opened a little bit at the sight. “Taking my fingers like a good girl.” Bucky attacked you with his mouth again. This time he was licking your folds, mixing his saliva with your juices. When the feeling of his nose touching your bundle of nerves came through your whole body, you gripped Bucky’s dark locks even harder, particularly trying to ride his face, and he had to put his metal hand on your hips so you wouldn’t move.

Your body tensed when he curled his fingers right on your g-spot, sucking your clit like a hungry man.

“Bucky—fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, please don’t stop!” You whined with tears running down your face.

A few more movements of his magical mouth, and you fell over the edge. Your legs tightened around his head, tingles went all over your body, and the loudest moan mixed with Bucky’s name came out of you as you were riding on the wave of your orgasm.

Bucky didn’t stop, though.

He made sure to lick every drop that came out of you, to the point that you had to beg him to stop because you were too sensitive.

“That was—“ You were trying to catch a breath. “That was the best orgasm I've ever had, oh my god. If you did it for the first time in like seventy years, I can’t imagine what you can do with practice.”

Bucky dragged you up by your neck, so you would be at the same level with him. His hand moved your hips closer to the edge of the table, and you felt how hard he was through those jeans.

“I can practice whenever you’ll allow me, doll.” He put his warm hand on your face to kiss you. The taste of your own release on his tongue made you moan.

“Need you inside of me, please.” Your hands automatically started to pull up his shirt, but he stopped you.

“We don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to.”

You were silent for a few seconds. “Why wouldn’t I want to take your shirt off?”

“You know, my arm and scars...”

“Do you really think that I care about it?” You left a few kisses on his cheek. “I think that your arm is hot, by the way, and I want to feel your skin on mine, Sarge.” It was enough for Bucky to pull off his shirt and stay before you half-naked.

Your hands moved to trace every muscle, every birthmark, and every scar on his chest, and you felt that this moment was so intimate, especially because of Bucky’s stare. He looked at you with such adoration and softness that you wanted to melt.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He mumbled and kissed you with even more passion.

Bucky ripped off the rest of your shirt and quickly took off your matching black bra, gripping your breasts with both hands and taking your left nipple in his hot mouth.

You dug nails into Bucky’s back as he was sucking and licking your nipples, leaving them wet in the cold air. It felt good. So fucking good—his mouth was truly amazing. But the emptiness inside of you was almost painful, and you were clenching around nothing.

“Bucky! Sarge, please, I need you.” You almost cried and dragged his head by the hair back to your mouth.

“Baby, baby, wait– “ His hot breath was touching your lips, but he stopped your hands, which were unbuckling his belt. “Baby, I don’t have a condom. Fuck, do you have one?”

“We don’t have to use it... I’m on the pill. And I’m clean.” Your legs wrapped tighter around Bucky’s waist and put him closer to your naked core. He swore that he could feel your heat through his jeans and boxers.

“Fuck, I love twenty-first century... I’m clean too, can’t even catch a disease with this serum shit.”

His words were like a green light to you. You didn’t want to wait even a second more. So you just took off his pants with such speed and impatience that it made Bucky chuckle. With the last movement, all of his clothes were on the floor, and you sat on your table, frozen because of the sight before you.

Bucky’s thick and perfectly long dick was the best fucking thing that you’ve ever seen. Pink and a little bit curled to his abdomen. Your mouth watered just thinking about tasting it. Or how well he’ll stretch you out. You didn’t even notice how your mouth opened a little bit, and you unconsciously wrapped your hand around him.

“You’re gonna destroy me, Bucky.” You mumbled, to which you heard only a deep chuckle. Your eyes moved back to Bucky’s smiley face.

“I hope so.”

Two different hands landed on your thighs again, spreading and lifting them up. You both looked down at where his cock almost touched your bare folds, and the first contact made you moan loudly. Bucky took the base of his cock, giving himself a few pumps, and moved the tip up and down your pussy, moving easily because of the mixture of your juices.

You grabbed his forearm and whined at the action.

“Ready, doll?” He was trying to be tough and strong, but you saw how he nervously licked his lips, the tremble of his flesh hand, and the tension in his abdomen. But you still vigorously nodded.

It was different from everything you’ve ever experienced. He was big but tried to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to hurt you. He only pushed a few inches, but you already wanted to cry from all the feelings inside of you. Pain mixed with extreme pleasure.

Bucky was trying so hard to control his motions and go slow, but God, it wasn’t easy. From the first touch of his cock, it felt like he had gone to heaven. He knew that sex was good, he remembers it, but the feeling of you and your warm body that so gracefully greeted him inside made him feral. Bucky felt such a need to kiss you that it was almost painful, especially when your swollen lips were a few inches away from his.

He leaned in closer to your lips, but it made him slip deeper into you, which made you both loudly moan into each other's mouths.

“Fuck– doll, you’re so warm and tight, oh my god.” Bucky mumbled as the grip on your hips became harder. It’ll probably leave bruises, but you didn’t care.

The feeling of him inside of you was overwhelming. He was so deep and stretched you just the way that you wanted, and you almost cried from pleasure.

“Please, Bucky, please move!”

His hips slightly moved once, and it felt like his mood instantly changed. You were suddenly pushed back on your table, and your legs, still in heels, were thrown on Bucky’s shoulders. His metal hand stayed on your thigh, and the other one fell on your stomach to push your skirt higher on your waist.

“All dressed up for me, baby.” He started slowly moving, burying his cock deep inside, and then leaving only the tip to tease you. “You know how long I wanted to do that, huh? Bend you over and just fuck the shit out of you until you can’t say anything except for my name.”

“Bucky– Sarge, please go faster. Just fuck me, do whatever you want.” You were desperate, yes. But you couldn't help but beg, because you really needed him to keep his promise and fuck the shit out of you.

You reached for his hand on your stomach and interlaced your fingers together.

“If you keep calling me that, I won’t last too long, doll.” His thrusts became harder and faster as your body moved up and down on your table.

Bucky was looking at your drunk-looking face with a slightly open mouth because you couldn’t keep your moans quiet. Your hair was deshiveled, your skin glimmered with sweat, and it was the hottest thing he had ever seen.

“So beautiful, baby.” Bucky murmured, fucking you harder. The room was filled with loud noises from slapping skin and moans. “You love it when I talk to you like that, huh? Want me to tell you what a good girl you are?” His words definitely did something to you, and you unconsciously tightened around him. “Almost choking my cock, baby, fu-u-ck.”

“Mhm, Sargent, I’m so full of you.” You couldn’t see straight as the tip of his head pressed at the perfect spot with every thrust, it was too much and not enough at the same time.

The wet kisses on the inner side of your thigh sent shivers down your whole body when Bucky started to suck tender skin. His rough movement didn’t stop for a moment, and you knew that your orgasm was getting closer. The warm feeling in your belly slowly became bigger. It was hard for you to cum from sex, but Bucky did it so fast and without even touching your clit.

“C’mon, doll face. I feel ‘ya. Feel how your perfect little pussy is squeezing me. Cum with me, baby, cum on my cock.” His movements were still rough and confident, but you felt the slightest change in the way he was looking at you, how his body trembled a little bit, and the prettiest quiet noises escaped his mouth as Bucky was coming to his own end.

You were completely lost in your pleasure, with strong arms on your body and Bucky’s hard cock that was completely destroying you, so when fingers on your clit started to move in circles, your body slightly jolted up from your table.

“Bucky, Bucky, please—ohmygod, I’m coming!” You cried out loud and grabbed the hard wood under your arms.

“O-oh, fuck, doll, cum with me, please. Yes, squeeze my cock harder, make a mess. ‘M gonna cum.” With the last few pushes of his dick inside of you and movements of the fingers, you both fell from your heights, and the room filled with loud moans of pleasure. The feeling of his hot seed on your walls almost made you faint.

Bucky fell down on your body as your leg slipped from his shoulder. Two strong arms wrapped around you, and Bucky’s face nuzzled into your neck. You don’t know how long you two stayed silent, trying to catch a breath, while your hands gently rubbed Bucky’s back.

When he finally lifted himself up with a metal arm near your face on the table, the look in his eyes sent millions of butterflies to your stomach.

“I don’t even know what to say…” He chuckled and cupped your face with his right hand. “You look so fucking beautiful, Y/N.”

“Even when my makeup, my hair, and my clothes are completely destroyed?” You playfully arched an eyebrow and enjoyed the feeling of his fingers on your hot skin.

“Well, I did it, and I’m satisfied with it. You still look so hot, especially with my dick still inside of you.”

“Bucky!”

“Sorry, sorry. But I’m serious, though. Will you let me take you on a date? Maybe yesterday for lunch or for dinner after work?” His eyes had this little bit of doubt, and you couldn’t stop your wide smile because he was really thinking that you would say “no” after that.

“I will be glad to go out with you, Buck.” You dragged his face closer and gave him the sweetest kiss you could.

Bucky moved away, gently slipping out of you, and you hissed at the empty feeling. He helped you stand up on your shaking legs and handed you your clothes.

“Fuck, you completely destroyed my clothes.” You said as you were standing in front of the mirror. “How will I go home?”

“You can stay in my room.” Bucky came closer to you and helped you make your blouse look more presentable, even without buttons.

“Really?”

“Of course, doll. Just hold your shirt in case we bump into someone in the corridor, but I think everyone is already in their rooms.” Bucky finished dressing up, and you saw your underwear sticking out of his pocket.

“Don’t you want to give me my panties?”

“Na-ah, you’ll have to walk with me dripping out of you.” He gave you a cocky smile and turned all the lights off before wrapping his arm around you and leading you into the hall.

It was completely empty, but the second that you stepped out of the elevator, you saw Bucky’s best friends looking at you. All of you were looking at each other for a few seconds before Sam started hysterically laughing.

“You owe me fifty bucks, idiot!” He said to Steve, who was as red as a tomato. “Good job, Buckaroo, but I really thought that we were gonna ask her on a date first.”

“Fuck off, Willson.” Bucky growled, protectively stepping forward to protect you from their looks.

“Okay, okay, relax, no one’s touching your girl.” He said with a cocky smile on his face. “Let’s go, Steve. You’re too innocent to look at things like this.” Sam took his friend and led him in another direction.

“Asshole.” Bucky growled.

“Everything is okay, Buck, let’s go.” You stepped closer to his room, but he was still standing in his place. “I have to take a shower. Will you come with me, or will you stand here the whole night?” You smirked.

It was everything he needed to finally get closer to you, scoop you into his arms, and carry you into his room to the sound of laughter, which soon turned into moans.

4K notes · View notes

luvrxbunny · 1 year

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gullible

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Prompt: Breeding

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, a lot of body descriptions, reader is on the curvier side, some grinding/dry humping, male masturbation (barely), ovulation, piv, unprotected sex (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 4.7k

A/N: lets say spider society is funded by the most rish spider-people and thats what the dinner was for. also this is long asf- i blacked out im so sorry

It’s a formality. This whole dinner party. It’s something Miguel gets invited to every year and every year he dreads going to it, having to play posh in order to get some extra funding from the higher-ups. Although, he doesn’t mind too much this year because he’s bringing you.

He’s fidgeting, and complaining about his collar when you come out of the bathroom, you’re asking him if you look okay and he knows his answer before he looks at you. He knows you look good, he tells you so before turning to you and only reassures you upon gazing at the outfit.

This dress is new, and you’re worried your tummy might be too big for it so you’ve thrown a coat over to hide it. Miguel knows what the coat is really for but doesn't mention it, not wanting to risk making you so uncomfortable you change out of everything. He compliments your new perfume instead, winning a confused smile from you. You’re fidgeting with the coat on the ride to the venue, saying that it’s itchy and you’re getting too warm. He suggests you take it off but you gently refuse and stop complaining.

He gets dragged away from you the moment he walks through the door. He hates leaving you alone at these things, he knows you don’t socialize well and he knows the men here want a taste of you. He’s anxious to get back to you for the entire hour these deep pockets talk his ear off. He hasn’t been listening, he’s thinking about you. He’s almost overwhelmed at the love he has for you, he’s never felt this way before. He’s missing you even though you guys are in the same place, even though he’s only been away from you for an hour. He can’t get out of there fast enough, shoving the doors of the conference room open and searching for you immediately.

When his eyes find you, they find that you’ve already taken your jacket off and you’re socializing with an entire group of people. They’re conversing with you comfortably. You bring a smile to his face as you laugh at someone’s joke. His eyes rake over your body, finally taking in your true outfit.

It has him stiffening in his pants. You’re wearing a dark red pencil dress, the same color as his suit. It hugs your curves perfectly, doing justice to your plush thighs, your ass and showcasing the curve of your back. His favorite part though, is the way it hugs your front. Your boobs look great, sure, but it’s emphasizing the little pooch that sits at the bottom of your stomach.

You hate it, saying it makes you look fat, that you wish you could get rid of it… but in Miguel’s eyes? It’s just proof you’re the perfect woman to mother his children. He came to this conclusion before he even knew about your tummy. He had seen your wide hips, your care toward others, how good you are with children, and decided he wanted you.

Once he got you to date him, to fall in love with him, he found out about your little belly fat. You’d been sucking it in as much as you could whenever you were around him, sometimes wearing higher pants than necessary in hopes of the jeans pushing your stomach down. It broke his heart to hear you so insecure but there was also a little flame igniting in his stomach.

The flame never left. He didn’t tell you about it, but every time he noticed your belly pushing against your tank top, or a tight shirt, whenever he felt your soft tummy on his hard stomach- through the t-shirt you insist on wearing while he fucked you- the fire raged brighter. He added it to the list of reasons you’d be an amazing child-bearer. He’s obsessed with the protective fat over your womb.

He watches you cover your stomach with your arm as you laugh, not even realizing you’re trying to hide his favorite part of you. He’s walking over to you before he plans out what he’ll say. He just stands beside you, inhaling your sweet perfume, and waiting for you to feel his presence, it doesn't take long. You turn to him with a surprised smile and give him an excited hug. “Miguel!”

His heart expands at your excitement upon his arrival, he wraps an arm around your waist and presses you against him. Your voice is muffled as you speak to him. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” He’s not listening though.

To any outsider, it looked like Miguel just really missed you, when in reality, he was making sure you could feel what you do to him. You let out a pretty sigh into his ear once you feel his bulge press into you. Your eyes are on his as you pull away, searching them for a reason as to why he’s hard but all he’s too busy taking in every piece of you.

You’re both lost in your own world, you don’t realize the people you were talking to have moved on from your conversation, talking with some other people now and leaving you and Miguel to your moment.

His hands are resting on your hips before one slides behind you, pressing his open palm against the small of your back before the other presses against your lower stomach, right over your uterus. Miguel can feel your stomach tense under his hand as you suck in, tightening your muscles but Miguel just tuts and tilts his head at you, disappointed. “Don’t do that, cariño. I love her.” Your gaze is on the floor as you listen to him, he sounds drunk, his voice is distant and hazy.

His head is cloudy with fantasies. He can see your stomach, how it would grow and swell as you create his child inside you. He thinks about how beautiful you would look with your womb stuffed full of him. He swears she’s calling for him- your womb- begging him to fill her up, paint your walls white until his seed takes, maybe a little more after that just to be safe.

You can see his thoughts racing, you can tell he’s working himself up, you just don’t understand what is doing this to him. His hand on your stomach is making you a bit self-conscious, but your muscles have been too tight for too long, and they give out. Your soft tummy relaxes and presses into his hand, pulling a relieved sigh from Miguel. His breathing picks up and his eyebrows furrow before he looks up from your stomach, looking into your eyes instead. “You know I love this, right?”

He looks back down at your belly as he readjusts his palm, opening his hand wider to cover more of your pooch. You whine and shift uncomfortably, the way his hand is resting over your womb is hot, it’s turning you on but you’re barely aware of that fact because anxiety is overrunning everything. You’re waiting for Miguel to slip up, for you to see a crack in his lies. You appreciate the attempt at making you feel better about your body but you don’t- you can’t believe him.

Until you look up into his eyes.

They’re drowning in need, his pupils entirely blown out, covering most of the red in his eyes. He’s gazing at you as he slowly pulls you in and presses his plump lips against yours with a moan. You pull away quickly and look around, a few people looking your way at Miguel’s louder-than-safe moan. You look back up at him to warn him, tell him to keep it down but the words die on your tongue. His eyes are hazy and confused, still looking at your lips like he can’t figure out why you pulled away. You smile at him incredulously and pull his hand away from your back but he whimpers when you try and take his hand off your womb.

“Miguel, we’re public, baby.” Your voice is soft yet frantic, and his eyes are still begging you. “People are staring…” That gets a reaction, his face twitches and his eyes clear and harden a bit. He looks around the room with a snarl and you have to pull his gaze back to you.

“Hey! What’s gotten into you?” The question hurts him a bit as he thinks it over, he really is trying to pinpoint why this is affecting him so much. All he can focus on is you though, your scent enveloping him like a cloud. It smells like everything good, like flowers and honey, but also clean like soap and linen. It’s suffocating him, stopping all thought.

“You smell so good, amor. What is that? I don’t recordar buying este para ti.” His voice is muffled as he buries his face in the top of your head, looking for the source of your scent. You’ve had enough, he’s doing all of this in the middle of the party, and you’re starting to feel a bit embarrassed. You’re pushing him back, slowly walking him to the edges of the party. You feel people staring until you finally hit a wall, pushing a grunt from Miguel. “What is up with you?” Your tone is gentle but you’re getting concerned, you’ve never seen him like this.

His eyes are shut tightly as his brows furrow and he lets out a pathetic whimper. “I’m sorry. I- I don’t know.” His hand leaves your stomach to bury in his hair and you instantly miss its warmth. You take a step closer to him, waiting for him to say more. “Can we leave? I think we’ve been here long enough, yeah?” He’s already pulling your hand to the exit.

He’s silent in the car and on the drive home, constantly running his hand through his hair, and bouncing the leg that isn't on a pedal. You’re taking in his frantic state and notice that through all this, he’s still hard. “Miguel…” He gasps softly and turns to you for a moment. “What’s wrong?

“I don’t-” His eyes dart to your form. “ Your dress for one.” You glance down and wish you hadn’t, you see your stomach split into rolls, folding the fabric of your dress, accentuating the it’s softness. Your arms cross over it, trying to hide and Miguel groans.

“Don’t do that, I told you.” His voice sounds painful and strained. You look back at him to see a distressed look on his face and his hand palming his throbbing cock through his suit pants. “I fucking love her.” His breathing gets heavy, causing him to inhale more of your painfully sweet perfume. “What the fuck is that smell, baby?”

You can hear him take a big inhale of the air in the car and a shiver runs up his spine. “I’m…” You struggle to round up enough thoughts to answer him, too distracted by the way he crushes his dick against his thigh and the little moans that accompany his movements. “I’m not wearing perfume, Miguel.”

That's when it hits him. Why he’s so desperate for you, why your scent is clouding his every thought and taking over his mind… You’re ovulating.

A broken groan rips from his throat at the realization, he speeds the rest of the way home. When you guys finally arrive he parks in the driveway and unlocks the doors, but doesn’t move. “I need you to get out, bonita.”

You feel arousal settle in your stomach as you press your legs together. Miguel’s head falls back, and his hair falls with his head, revealing his red-tipped ears. His hips are still gently thrusting into his hand, the other is squeezing the wheel so hard you thought it might crack. “I- I need a moment, baby. I’ll explain everything, just go inside and-” He lets out a breathless curse and his hips stutter against his palm. “And go change and just- just wait for me, okay? I’ll be there in a moment, go.” You’re in a trance as he speaks but the force in his command shakes you out of it.

You leave the car silently and make your way to his place. You change out of your clothes in a daze, putting on a tank top and one of his sweatpants as you try to process what just happened. You grab a blanket and wait for Miguel on the couch.

It’s only a few minutes before you hear his footsteps approaching the door. You stand in front of the doorway, oddly nervous as you watch the knob turn. His eyes meet yours the moment the door opens, his eyes stay on yours as he ducks through the frame, and takes his shoes off. They only tear from yours to take in your new outfit, your lower belly is the first place his eyes land. He gets that weak look in his eye you’ve been seeing all night and his breathing picks up.

Miguel notices the way your stomach sucks in for a moment before relaxing, letting your body be as she is and it making him feral. He needs you so bad, he wants to just take you right here but he promised you an explanation. His eyes flicker up to you and he takes a shaky deep breath and tries to keep his voice steady. “Have a seat, hermosa.”

He looks nervous, he keeps wiping his hands on his suit pants as you walk over to sit on the couch, he seats himself at the other end, across from you. You’re turned to him, legs crossed and laying in his lap. He turns to face you more and accidentally places your legs over his bulge, you can feel his thighs tense as he folds in half, letting out a choked moan that he tries to cover as a cough. You let him think he got away with it, he leaves your legs over his bulge, giving him enough stimulation to think straight.

You’re looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain and he decides to just rip the band-aid off. “You’re-” Arousal stabs in his stomach at the sentence he has to utter. He bites into his lip and tries to regulate his breathing. “You’re o- ovulating.” Your legs shift in his lap as your expression falls, embarrassed. “And I can smell it.”

Your legs pull out of his lap quickly and you bring your knees to your chest. “What?!” You sit up and tuck your legs under you, sitting on your calves. “You can smell it? I’m- God that’s so- I’m so sorry.”

His mind is getting hazy again without your contact. “No. Cariño, not that. It’s not like that.” He sighs at your confusion, he wishes you understood how desperate he was, maybe then you wouldn’t ask him to talk so much, maybe you’d just let him fuck you already. “It’s more like pheromones.”

His hand slides across the couch cushion, wraps around your ankle and slowly drags you toward him. “It’s a change in your personal scent. Your body is trying to trick mine into breeding you, and guess what?” He’s pulled you straight and is crawling up your body, slowly lowering himself against you so his bulge is pressing against your pussy, right over your clit.

He’s so hard he’s able to split your lips, rubbing the cloth of his sweatpants against your naked pussy and you gasp at the feeling. Your hands slide up from his biceps to pull his head in, anxiously awaiting the rest of his sentence. He smirks at the eager look on your face and leans in, just inches from your lips, and whispers against them. “My body is so gullible for you.” You whimper.

You can feel your entire being heating up as he kisses you so intensely, like he’s trying to devour you. He’s groaning against your lips and licking into your mouth as he wrestles his jacket off. Your hands shoot to his belt and struggle to get it off, whining into the kiss when his belt gets caught on the loops. He smiles into you and his hands come to rest over yours. “Tranquila, bebe. I’m the desperate one, remember?”

You shake your head his words and let him take his pants off while you wiggle out of his sweats. He moans at your bare pussy and his arms give out for a moment, almost dropping his weight on you before catching himself. “N-no panties?” His fingers are on you, rubbing your clit and spreading your slick all over you, coating his fingers in it. He’s being downright messy.

“Miggy- Miguel, I need it so bad- need you so bad. I love you so much. You’re so-” Your mind is already gone as you grind up into his fingers, overwhelmed by the added pleasure of his desperation. He’s groaning into your ear as he humps himself against your thigh in time with his fingers.

“I don’t know. I need-” You cut him off with a moan and he smiles as you apologize in between whimpers. “I think I’d need to cum in you, cariño. I need- My brain can only focus on-” He groans as you writhe against him, pushing your thigh into his crotch. His head lowers to rest against yours as his fingers speed up inside you. He can feel the way you’re coating them, soaking every crevice with your sweetness. He can feel the way they’re sliding inside you, the way your walls are squeezing him, it’s too much. “I can only think about cumming in you, bebe.”

Truthfully, his thoughts were more focused on what would come afterward, watching you swell with his child but you guys haven’t even had a conversation about kids yet.

“No.” You whine at him, he feels sadness shoot through his stomach but he tries to mask it. “Just fuck me, please?” You’re looking up at him with puppy dog eyes, your hands around his neck pulling his face impossibly closer as your lips try and lock with his. He nods at you gently, he wants to give you anything you could possibly want.

“Okay, amor.” He kisses you quickly before taking his hands off of you and starts unzipping his pants, pulling himself out of his boxers while you wait. You watch him for a bit as he gets undressed before a thought pushes into your head.

What if I took my top off this time?

You think it over for a second, you want to be yourself with him, completely and he’s explained his love for your tummy over and over again.

What could be the worst that happens?

Images of Miguel’s face twitching in disgust flash through your head. Unrealistic scenarios of Miguel pulling away, starting to reject your advances and your kisses plague your brain.

He wouldn’t do that.

You take a deep breath and bite the bullet, pulling your tank top over your head quickly and Miguel freezes, causing an abundance of discomfort on your end. You thought this was something he’d want, something he’d like, now that you’ve exposed yourself though, he’s silent.

You try to stand strong, but your hands are twitching at your sides to cover your stomach. You pray to whatever god there may be that you somehow gain the ability to read his mind, to see his thoughts, to force him to say something… anything.

His cock pulsing. He’s never seen you completely shirtless, despite being together for over a year. He never wanted to push you, too scared that he’d push you away. He’s seen you with no top but only with a towel over your stomach, or pants pulled over your stomach as you change. But now? Her full glory was on display, there’s a little curve underneath, separating your tummy from your pussy and he’s in love.

His eyes are zeroed in on your naked stomach and your hands come up to cover it, legs pulling inward as you fold into yourself. He can’t have that. “Don’t”

His voice is sharp and dark, a strong command but you don’t listen, covering your stomach fully. “It was a bad idea. I’m so uncomfortable, Mig. Can-” You let out a heartbreaking sigh. “Can you just pass me my top?” You threw it down just out of reach and your hands are occupied covering your stomach. Embarrassment is coursing through every vein.

How are we gonna move on from this? I fucking killed the shit out of the mood. Fuck. God, I hate this.

“No.” He’s moving back toward you, climbing up your body again, ignoring the obvious confusion you’re facing. You curl in even more which just upsets him. He grabs your leg and pulls, forcing you out of your ball before pinning it under his own. “Uh-” You let out a noise of surprise but Miguel pays it no mind as he reaches for your arms. He takes both of your wrists in his hand and pins them above your head, holding them there as he admires your tummy.

Your heart is racing but you don’t struggle. Miguel is looking at you like to most amazing piece of art and you’d do anything- anything- for him to keep going. You feel yourself leaking between your legs as he just stares. His breathing is slow and shaky and his brows keep furrowing, like he’s having an internal battle with himself. He takes another breath and exhales through his mouth, letting his breath fan over your face before releasing your wrists and leg.

He’s waiting for you to pull your hands back down, cover one of your most beautiful features… but you don’t.

Instead, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in. “Can you please, please, fuck me now?” His face twitches before he smiles, taking a deep breath as he pulls away. He kisses your chest as he slowly rises, his hand already on his cock, pumping himself gently as he aligns himself with your entrance. You’re gripping the cushions with all your strength as he works himself in.

He’s worried. You feel insane around him, the softest thing he’s ever felt, extra wet and open for him to breed you. His mind keeps wandering back to cumming inside you, even though you said no. He’s walking the line of some dangerous thoughts.

I am stronger than her…

He shakes the thought out of his head and focuses on you. The way you’re moaning his name like it’s the only thing you know, your hips are growing frantic as the grind up against him. “Miggy-“

“Amor.” He smiles at the moan that rips from your chest as you bury yourself in his neck. His hips speed up at the sounds of your moans right next to his ear, your breath tickling the shell of it.

“‘M gonna- “ Miguel cuts you off with a growl and his brows furrow. He doubles down on his thrusts, bringing his hands to the small of your back, gripping you hard and fucking you into his cock.

It’s going to take a serious amount of focus to keep his orgasm at bay until you’re done. “Go- Fuck. No, just wait, baby.” You let out a confused noise at his command. He’s never asked you to hold it before.

“Fuck! Mi- I don’t know how!” Your sentence turns into a sob as he watches your body tense up, pulling all your muscles tight and gripping the roots of his hair. “Haah- Miguel. Baby, I ca- an’t. Please let-“

A moan stops your sentence as Miguel presses onto your womb, forcing his cock against your walls, stretching you even more. You feel so full you don’t know what’s happening. Your eyes are wide as you stare at his hand, slowly looking up to meet his eyes. They’re frantic, desperate and wild when they meet yours.

His panting aggressively, intermittently pausing so he can try and regulate his breathing. You’re staring into his eyes, shocked at his reaction and a smirk pushes its way into your face before you moan at him again. He pulls his hand away from your womb like it burned him and pulls out, gripping the base of his cock so hard it must hurt.

You were so close, teetering on the edge, just hearing Miguel utter your name could’ve tipped you over… but he pulled out instead. “Miguel!!! Why? I- I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

Your desperate pleads are worsening his situation. He ignores your words and starts rubbing your clit, his fingers moving over the little bud lightning fast. “I’m not punishing you, bebé bonita”

You whine at the love name and grip his arm, trying to pull him closer to you. “No puedo correrme dentro de ti and I’m… I’m too close right now, cariño.”

You’re trying to push his hand away now, shaking your head and whining. “S’okay”

Your yanking at his arm, trying to get him back over you. “Cum inside, Miggy.”

His eyes widen and he doesn’t move. He honestly thinks he’s hearing things at this point, fantasizing without realizing but you’re look at him all shy and expectant. So you actually said something… “W-“ He takes a deep breath. “What?”

You whine at him and avert your eyes as your legs slowly spread for him. “You- You wanted to, right? I want it…” You whine at the thought. “I need it, Miggy.”

His vision blurs as he reaches out for you, lining himself up as quickly as he can. He can already feel his balls pulsing, tensing and preparing a load for you, for your pussy, your womb.

It’s worse than the first time he ever had sex with you. Every nerve is alight, he can feel every little detail in your pretty, perfect pussy. On top of that, you’re moaning like he’s never heard before, louder, more high pitched, more desperate than earlier and they’d already shocked him then. He can’t.

“Mm- Not- fuck. I’m not gonna last. Not even a min- shit. Oh my god, cariño. Not even gonna last a minute. Fuck me, niña bonita.” Your almost screaming his name at his words, his languid pace and the way he’s literally shaking for you. “Gonna- shi-it.” His words sound like broken sobs as his tip gently abuses your cervix.

You’ve pulsing around him, trying everything you can to wait for him so you can milk him while he pumps you full. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck. I’m gonna cum in- in you, baby. Voy a follarte un bebé, amor. Te dejaré embarazada, te mantendré llena de mí en todo momento. Mierda. Te verás tan hermosa, manteniendo a nuestro bebé protegido en tu grueso útero. Oh, joder"

(“I'm going to fuck a baby into you, love. I will get you pregnant, I'll keep you full of me at all times. Shit. You will look so beautiful, keeping our baby protected in your thick womb. Oh fuck.”)

Your eyes roll back and the coil in your stomach snaps as Miguel rambles, hips thrusting into yours gently, his gaze on the back of his skull. You’re fucking yourself on him as best you can in this position. It’s awkward and over-exerting but completely worth it when you hear a whine of your name and Miguel’s cock starts throbbing inside you.

Twitching once, twice, before hardening even more and pouring a torrent of cum into your waiting pussy. He’s the loudest you’ve ever heard. Moaning out your name on repeat, thanking you for letting him cum in you with a lot of other Spanish sentences in between.

His hand presses to your womb as he winds down but his cock twitches out another load as he pushes down, fucking into you slowly again. “Te amo tanto, mi querida. No puedo imaginar la vida sin ti. Una vida en la que no tendrás mis hijos, en la que no estemos casados…” His entire body shudders as he finally stops pouring into you.

(“I love you so much, my dear. I can’t imagine life without you. A life where you don’t bear my children, in which we aren’t married…”)

He leans down and kisses you slowly, eyes hooded but still focused on you. Your eyes are teary and trying to shut, exhausted from the entire night. Miguel keeps pressing kisses all over you as you drift off.

“Un mundo sin ti es uno en el que no podría vivir, amor.”

(“A world without you is one I couldn't live in, love.”)

Thank you so mcuh for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

4K notes · View notes

vroomvro0mferrari · 5 months

Text

LN4 | Dutch Courage

Summary: When Max Verstappen invites Lando to celebrate King’s Day with him, he can hardly refuse. Especially when it’s a great opportunity to spend time with the Dutch man’s sister.

Lando Norris x Verstappen!Reader

WC: 2.9K

Warnings: Alcohol (over)consumption, curse words

Masterlist

The first time Lando really came in contact with the Dutch culture was during his first Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the race, the enthusiasm of the people, and the taste of stroopwafels immediately made him like the Netherlands. When Max introduced him to more Dutch traditions and told him about the extreme celebrations of the King’s birthday, he couldn’t believe it. His experiences with the Queen’s birthday were completely different, much more sophisticated and ceremonial than the Dutch celebrations. You could say he was gobsmacked when he saw the videos; people dressed all in orange, filling the streets and canals, drunkenly partying like it was a festival. When Max extended an invitation to join him next April, Lando accepted straight away, eager to experience the unique tradition.

And so, next April 27th, Lando found himself in Amsterdam. He was passing tons of people stalling out their stuff on blankets, sitting on folding chairs by their improvised shops. They were all dressed in orange, of course. Lando, himself, had also adhered to the dress code. Sporting his orange hoodie, he’s ready to party all day long.

Lando made his way through the city, Google maps opened on his phone as he navigated the streets of Amsterdam. Luckily, Max’s apartment building was easy to find. Lando rang the doorbell, grinning when he spotted his Dutch friend. Lando could already hear the noise coming from the apartment while he greeted Max, the sound of music and singing passing through the walls.

“Hey man, what’s up?” He asked.

“Nothing much. What about you?” Max responded while welcoming Lando into his second home, leading him into the hallway.

Lando was about to answer his question, but the unexpected sight in the living room disrupted his train of thought. A confused frown etched itself onto his face, and he asked, “Why are there so many girls in your house? Don’t you have a girlfriend already?”

Max laughed at the question, “Oh yeah, they're my sister’s friends,” he responded nonchalantly as if they weren’t appropriating his apartment.

“You sister’s friends? Why are they taking over your place?”

“They’re getting ready to go out in a bit. Since I live closer to the centre than Y/N, they’re leaving from here. I told them to stay the night too, I don’t want Y/N and her friends to travel home in the middle of the night when they’re all drunk.”

Lando nodded as he observed the herd of girls getting ready. It was a mess – even compared to how his sisters got ready. They were doing lots of things at the same time: passing the phone around to pick music, singing along to whatever Dutch song was playing, taking pictures, talking, doing their makeup, fixing their hair, picking out accessories and putting flags on their faces; it was complete chaos, but they didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll get you some water, mate,” Max said before walking to the kitchen, leaving Lando alone with the women.

It took a while for Y/N to spot Lando, but when she did, she came over right away. “Lando! How are you? I haven’t seen you in such a long time!” She said excitedly as she pulled him in for a hug.

“I’m good. It’s your fault we haven’t seen each other in so long, you never come to races anymore,”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Life’s been busy. So, I hear today’s your first King’s Day, are you excited?”

Lando chuckled, “Ah, yes it is. Of course, I’m excited. I’ve been told it’s quite the experience!”

“It certainly is. I would’ve expected you to wear more orange though, isn’t it your team’s colour?” She questioned him teasingly.

“Is my hoodie not enough?” He asked, looking down at his outfit.

“Oh Lando, you know it’s not! Didn’t Max show you the videos? Come, I’ll put some flags on your face,” she said as she pulled him into the group of girls.

They all greeted him enthusiastically as Y/N searched through the pile of orange and red-white-and-blue-coloured accessories, looking for something that would fit Lando. She pulled out a ribbon of the Dutch flag and grinned widely. Lando stood still as Y/N wrapped the ribbon around his head like a headband and tied it with a bow. “Very coquette, I’m sure your lady fans will love it,” she murmured and grabbed his jaw to turn his face to the side. A look of focus overtook her features as she gently applied the face paint to Lando’s cheeks.

Lando was caught off guard at the situation he found himself in. He had barely stepped foot in the apartment and he was already being pulled in all kinds of directions as the whirlwind of women fussed over him, dressing him up for their sacred holiday. He caught Max’s eyes over Y/N’s shoulder, silently pleading for rescue, but Max merely laughed at the situation in which Lando had trapped himself, not offering any assistance. Instead, he stood by and watched with amusement as Y/N picked out things for Lando to wear and offered him an orange poncho for the rain that would probably come later today. Lando had no choice but to go along with it, accepting everything as it came. It was only a small effort for him, and it seemed to make her happy.

Y/N only let Lando go once she was satisfied with his outfit. He quickly rushed to Max, who offered him a glass of water with a big grin on his face, “She got you, eh?”

“Apparently, my orange hoodie was not enough,” he responded.

Max pat him on the back, “Don’t worry, I was a victim earlier,” he replied, pointing to his cheeks covered with face paint.

Not much later, the girls finally settled down. They were nearly ready to leave, the only thing they needed before heading off was a decent meal. If they were going to get wasted, they should at least have a good base. Y/N and her friends had organised a feast that could feed everyone and then some, with food left to spare. After the generous lunch was consumed, the women had some drinks to get a headstart before they packed their purses, making sure they had all the essentials covered. They divided the tiny bottles of alcohol they had bought in advance, and Lando watched in shock and disbelief as every girl shoved at least two tiny bottles down their bra. Meanwhile, Max seemed entirely unimpressed – as neutral as one could be.

Y/N and her friends had gotten tickets to Kingsland and the alcohol there was way too expensive to get drunk. If they needed to sneak in some alcohol to get properly pissed, that was a problem easily solved. The girls said goodbye and headed out the door, leaving silence in their wake.

The men didn’t leave that much later and headed over to the boat where they would meet Martijn, aka, Martin Garrix, with whom Max and Lando were both good friends. They would spend their time partying on the boat, getting just as drunk as Y/N and her friends before joining Martijn for his performance at Kingsland, where they’d meet up with the girls.

It was hours, and a shit ton of drinks, later when Max called Y/N to let her know they arrived at the festival grounds. In the meantime, a lot had happened: Y/N’s group of friends had gained at least three more people, Lando had cut his nose open on a glass bottle, and Max, somehow, managed to fall off the boat.

Y/N was dancing with her group of friends, going crazy for the songs the DJ was playing when she suddenly felt hands on her shoulders. She turned around immediately, surprised at the presence of a new person and ready to defend herself against whoever decided to touch her. That is, until she noticed the person behind her was Lando. As soon as she recognised the man, she, very drunkenly, jumped onto him. Y/N claimed she hadn’t seen him in so long as she put her entire body weight on the man who, unsuspecting of the move and unstable from the amount of alcohol he had consumed, nearly fell over. Y/N giggled innocently at the interaction, holding Lando’s arms tightly to prevent their fall. She looked up at his face while she did so, noticing the bandage on his nose.

“What did you do?” She slurred, frowning concernedly while running a hand along his face. That wasn’t a good choice; she lost her balance as soon as her hand left Lando’s arm. Lando, his own state not much better, grabbed her waist, trying to stop her wobbling.

“Got hit in the face with a broken beer bottle,” he replied with a grin and Y/N giggled at the image forming in her mind.

“That’s so stupid. Did it hurt?” she asked.

Lando laughed loudly, “No, I’m too drunk to feel anything.”

Even though the comment is not that funny, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, nearly toppling over.

The group, now including Max and Lando, stood in the crowd, dancing to the music playing as it became busier in anticipation of Martin Garrix’s performance. The field they were standing in became more crowded by the second, pressing them closer to each other. There was barely any space left to move, packed like sardines in a can. When there were people who tried to pass, Y/N’s back was pressed tightly against Lando. So tightly that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body and his breath hitting her neck; so tightly that it made Max send Lando a warning glare. But it didn’t matter when everyone was drunk and there were too many people between them for Max to do anything other than stare angrily.

When Martijn began his set everyone cheered and moved along to the music. In Y/N’s current position, she was nearly grinding against Lando, but he didn’t seem to mind, holding her close with one hand while the other held his drink in the air. Nevertheless, she turned around, wanting to avoid conflict between her brother and Lando, and any pictures and rumours that would most likely arise when people spotted the world-famous Formula 1 drivers. That didn’t mean she’d avoid his touch, though; throwing her arms over his shoulders while he held her waist, they kept dancing together.

Martijn’s set ended way sooner than they would’ve liked it to, and it was only a while longer before the group left Kingsland for his penthouse. After all, when you’re invited to Martin Garrix’s after-party by the man himself, you cannot refuse.

Somehow, they managed to get to his penthouse safely, where they kept the party going until at least midnight. Most of the people Martijn invited left after the fireworks, leaving a smaller group of people occupying the rooftop. After standing, dancing and jumping all day and night, the group finally found somewhere to sit for a while – just to let their legs rest. But, as luck would have it, there weren’t enough seats, because when are there ever? Before Y/N could even suggest she’d stand, Lando, in his drunken stupor, had already pulled her down to sit on his lap.

He smiled triumphantly as she sat, “You looked tired,” is all he said to justify it.

Despite her surprise, Y/N welcomed the closeness and leaned into Lando, resting her body against his while she sipped her Aperol and joined the ongoing discussion. It was the perfect way to end her night – surrounded by her friends, joking around and enjoying her drink. She enjoyed the drunken conversation, giggling whenever Lando would whisper a funny remark in her ear about whatever stupid comment someone just uttered. His commentary was so distracting that she didn’t even notice when he put his hand on her thigh and tightened his hold on her waist, pulling her closer.

Max, however, did notice. He had been keeping an eye on Lando since their interaction at Kingsland when Y/N was basically grinding on Lando. Knowing a warning glare didn’t do much last time, Max was ready to do just about anything to make his objections clear if Lando decided to take things too far in his presence. Especially when he saw Lando’s hand moving higher up Y/N’s leg while she solely giggled in his arms. It’s an understatement to say the alcohol made Lando bolder – he felt fucking fearless as he kept his gaze locked on Y/N, not removing his eyes for even a second, not until a loud voice interrupts the conversation, at least.

“Hey, mate, let’s keep it PG, yeah?” The tone of Max’s voice made the words sound a lot less casual and jovial than they usually would and Y/N’s cheeks flared up when she noticed he was referring to her and Lando. Lando’s hands shot up, as if Y/N’s warm skin burned his hands, lifting them in a gesture of surrender.

“Sorry man, didn’t even notice it,” he replied.

Max glowered at him, showing he was not messing around before returning to his conversation.

When Max’s attention shifted away from them, Lando tentatively placed his hand back. The alcohol running through his veins made him ballsy and fearless as he continued to make comments in Y/N’s ear. This time, she noticed his moving hand, a blush rising to her cheeks in anticipation of Max’s reaction. But he wasn’t paying attention to the two of them, not until he heard his sister laughing boisterously. Startled at the sound, his eyes darted over to the pair, widening in disbelief when he spotted Lando’s wandering hand edging closer to the hem of your skirt once again. Max’s instincts immediately kicked in at the sight – the audacity of this man.

“That’s enough, Norris. Hands off,” he commanded, his tone firm..

Lando’s confidence faltered under Max’s scrutinising gaze, and he removed his hand immediately. “Sorry, man,” he said, blushing at the attention. Max, too, had been drinking all day, and Lando didn’t want to risk another injury; the cut on his nose was enough for today.

Lando’s sudden change in behaviour was obvious to Y/N; his uncertainty and reluctance to touch her were palpable. In an attempt to reassure him, she leaned her head against his shoulder, cuddling into him while she kept the conversation going. She made eye contact with her brother, whose unrelenting glare softened at her comfort. All he wanted to do was to protect Y/N, but it now felt unnecessary as she seemed entirely at ease with Lando.

At some point during the night, Y/N took the initiative and grabbed Lando’s hand, placing it on her thigh. Lando was apprehensive at the gesture, looking over at Max to see his reaction, but he was focused on his sister. He watched her play with Lando’s hand, fiddling with his fingers and giggling into the crook of his neck. Max shifted his eyes to Lando, nodding at him before returning to his conversation – a sign of approval. If his sister was okay with it, initiating and encouraging it even, then he would accept it.

They stayed in the same position until people started to leave. When Y/N’s friends mentioned heading home, Max suggested everyone should go back, not wanting the girls to walk home alone while they were wasted. It took little convincing to get everyone into the elevator and out to the street to start the short journey (although much longer when drunk) back to his apartment.

Lando and Y/N were walking next to each other, rounding up the group while Max was busy herding Y/N’s friends through the city. They were leaning on each other as they stumbled through the streets, laughing at Max who was frantically chasing the girls to make sure they took the right turns.

When they finally got back to Max’s apartment, the chaos of the night followed them inside as Max helped everyone to their beds. He had basically adopted Y/N’s friends as his sisters by now, fussing over them throughout the night. Occupied with the girls, Max doesn’t notice Lando following his sister into her bedroom. He sprawled himself out on the bed, barely kicking off his shoes, while Y/N got herself ready to sleep.

She stumbled over to the bed while Lando watched her, both of them giggling as she nearly tripped over the shoes scattered around the floor. She curled up next to him on the bed, her body fitting perfectly against his. As they drifted to sleep, their whispers slowly faded into silence until the only sounds that remained were the soft snores from the cuddled-up couple, and the quiet stomps of Max trying to catch Y/N's giggling friends.

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fantasylandloser · 1 year

Text

marriage pact pt.2

summary: the besties are getting used to their new relationship

Warnings: smut, mdni, oral (fem recieving), mentions of dry humping, mentions of implied bi!reader, Stevie's happy trail makes another appearance, public sex?? (not actually penetration), lmk if i missed anything

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

A/N: thank you to all the people who showed part one so much love, especially everyone who had v unhinged things to say (i love you the most) also i gave us a cool ass, loving mom

part 1

*****

“I’m just saying, we should talk about it eventually.” Steve tells you, unable to conceal the smirk on his face. He stood in the doorway of your bathroom watching you evade questions he threw at you about your past hookups. Essentially he didn’t really care, he was the last person in Hawkins who should have the privilege of caring about who other people hookup with. But he was a little curious, considering your face went up in flames as soon as he brought it up. Also maybe slightly jealous.

You huff at Steve’s persistence, dropping your mascara back into the bag. “Are we going to talk about all the people you’ve hooked up with Steve?” Annoyance laced your tone at his line of questioning, but he knew your annoyance was just poorly concealed embarrassment.

The two of you were supposed to be getting ready to meet up with Robin, Eddie, Nancy, and Jonathan when he randomly asked you about the past guys you’ve been with. He was already dressed and now he was waiting for you to be, curiously watching your every step.

“We’ve talked about me for years. Everyone in Hawkins has talked about me.” He laughs, a little self deprecating. “We’ve never talked about you, and we don’t have to.” He’s moving in on you arms, caging you into the counter, shaggy hair sweeping from his forehead. “I’m just curious, not judging you.” Your eyes meet his sincere ones in the mirror, the kicked puppy look he’s been giving you since you were kids working like a charm.

“Billy Hargrove fingered me in our Anatomy class, junior year.” You start, your face red as you shift your eyes, from Steve’s shocked ones. “That was before he..”You trail off not knowing exactly how to word your next thoughts.

“Beat me to a pulp?” Steve offers, with a sardonic grin.

You nod with a sheepish smile. “Sorry.” You really mean it, too. You felt so bad after you saw Steve like that, bruised up by a guy that had been touching you.

“Not judging, remember.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and despite the ugly feeling of jealousy sitting in the pit of his stomach he really wanted you to continue.

“I always knew he had a thing for you.” He says, thinking of all the times he’d catch Billy staring at you. He’s pretty sure that’s half the reason he beat his ass. Steve would always have an arm around your shoulder or one of your legs in his lap.

You go back to distracting yourself as you put your eyeliner on. “And don’t be weird about this later,” You say, which gives him warning to brace himself. “Eddie took my virginity in the back of his van senior year.” You say it so casually that Steve’s sure he didn’t hear you correctly.

“Eddie?” Steve says, his face wearing his shock. “You mean like Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” You slap his arm at that.

“Don’t call him that.” You defend, which Steve rolls his eyes at, knowing Eddie loved the nickname.

“Our friend, Eddie? Who, we happen to be seeing tonight?” Obviously too flabbergasted to remember his no judgment rule, you quickly remind him.

“I thought this was a judgment free zone.” You murmur, too mortified to even look at him. This brings Steve back to himself.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. Didn’t see that coming.” Steve’s hands are on his hips and you know he’s about two seconds from pacing a hole through a floor to wrap his head around it. You can’t help but think he’s adorable for stressing himself out about a question he asked you to answer.

“Yeah we hooked up for a while I guess, but then-” You’re cut off by your own thoughts, sheepish at the thought of your next words until you look at Steve’s puzzled expression. “Then Tommy threw that huge party and you got drunk off your ass and told me we were gonna get married and I just-” You shrug, pretending to be oh so busy with your eyelash curler. “Broke it off with him the next day. Didn’t wanna lead him on, when my head was… elsewhere.” Thinking of you. You tell Steve all this without making a morsel or eye contact. It should really scare Steve how good you are at playing casual with your feelings.

“Oh, honey.” The kiss he plants on your shoulder is sweet, as he secures his arms around you. “I really love you.” Steve whispers, and it’s not the first time he’s said it, but in this context it is. The words are so much heavier after the shift in dynamic between the two of you.

“I love you too.” Again you say it so unbothered, so naturally, that Steve would think you didn’t mean it if he couldn’t feel the way your pulse quickened.

“So, after Eddie?” He prods. You take a second like you’re contemplating telling him.

“If I tell you, you can’t tell Robin.” Steve looks confused but agrees regardless. “You can’t tell anyone.” You reiterate.

“Okayy, based on what you’ve already told me I’m not sure how it could get worse.” Steve says. “But I’m not judging.’ He adds after his little sentence.

“Last year, Tammy Thompson, once.” It’s all you say before Steve understands and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

“I don’t know you at all.” He states dramatically.

“In my defense..” you began, “The only reason I didn’t tell you was because like right after I had been talking to Robin and told her that I went to the mall with her and then, she randomly mentioned that she used to have the hugest crush on her. And then she told me that the two of you hooked up before and it was weird. Because I never in a million years thought we would have any overlap.” By the time you’re done with your explanation, Steve is still looking at you in shock.

“You don’t tell me anything.” He lies, unaware of the pout that’s formed on his face.

“I tell you everything important.” You counter. You look like you’re thinking, biting your bottom lip nervously. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal for you.”

Steve is all over you before you can overthink any further, and he’d never tell you but you look like you’re about to launch into tears. “Baby it’s not a big deal… I’m just surprised I didn’t know this about you.” He finally understands some of your hesitancy about opening up about your sex life. You were scared to be judged, by him of all people.

“That was the shortest list ever, if it was me we would have been standing here for hours.” He jokes, it's another self deprecating jab and it’s one you can’t ignore.

“Stop doing that. Be nice to yourself.” You scold lightly.

“It’s true.” You knew Steve was no longer a fan of his own promiscuity. You know that he had some regrets about it, but you couldn’t for the life of you understand why.

“It’s hot.” When the words leave your lips, you find yourself turning around in his arms, tilting your head up to get a better look at him. You meet his eyes, watching the bewildered expression on his face.

“It’s really hot for me, that my boyfriend is more experienced than me. Now.. you can teach me what you know.” You elaborate. Steve’s eyes are watching your lips intently.

“Call me that again.” He requests, his voice gruff. You hold his gaze even though your entire body is on fire from the sudden intensity.

“My boyfriend.” You say softly. The first time you acknowledge him as such. He’s leaning in to kiss you when you duck under his arm, not allowing him to smudge your newly done make up or make you any later than you know you are.

“We’re late.” You remind him, grabbing your shoes.

“Fucking tease.”

*****

Your night out with Steve and your friends, paled in comparison to waking up to him. He’s holding you tightly against him. No shirt on his chest, per usual. A large hand splayed under your shirt and against your stomach. His heat is almost too much for you and you consider rolling away briefly but that’s the last thing you want.

Without ever opening your eyes or moving, you flail your legs to kick the blanket off you, only pausing when you hear a throaty chuckle vibrating beneath you. You freeze realizing you’d been caught looking silly.

“You hot?” He asks, ever so attentive. Usually when the two of you slept in bed together, there was a respectful amount of space between you, now your limbs were intertwined and your heart beats synced.

“Mhm.” You hum, still half sleep. You wouldn’t know it but Steve woke up about thirty minutes before you and he was also feeling like the bed had turned into a sauna overnight, but he’d rather burn to death than wake you up.

Still groggy from sleep, you whine when Steve removes himself from you to turn on the fan and remove the covers the rest of the way off of you. Much to your relief.

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” He tells you, letting you know he wasn’t coming back to bed. You were unsure of how he did that. Getting up as soon as he woke up. You were more of a wake up and rot in bed for two more hours kind of girl.

You hadn’t realized, you’d drifted back off to sleep until Steve’s waking you up. “Wanna get up for me, so we can spend some time together?” He offers.

“We could go play basketball at the gym.” He tries again when you don’t budge. This has you perking up slightly. For a reason unknown to him, every time, even in high school, if he mentioned anything to do with basketball you would be there. At first he thought you wanted to play, especially since you proved yourself to be useful on the court, but when he mentioned it to you, you looked disturbed at the idea.

You’re rolling out of bed without answering, but he knows that is your answer and you’re just adjusting to the morning again. So he goes on making sure to cook you a good breakfast.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, freshly showered you find Steve behind the stove looking very boyfriendish. You can’t help circling your arms around his waist as you inhale his scent.

“Morning’” There’s soft music playing from his phone but other than that the house is quiet.

“Good Morning. Baby.” You grin into his shoulder, feeling oddly domestic..

After eating breakfast with Steve, you made your way to the gym. You’re stopped a million times because this is Hawkins and everyone knows Steve, the once golden boy basketball star, and you who graduated top of your class with a long list of extracurriculars. But most people still only referred to you when speaking about Steve and that was okay with you.

Playing with Steve is never actually about winning for you. The win is seeing Steve like this. Sweaty. In his zone. So fucking focused. You were competitive everywhere else, but on the basketball court, you were all about Steve. He played less now that you were older, so when he offered you couldn’t help but jump at the chance.

You’re barely paying attention to the game because Steve is everywhere. You’re losing really badly even though he’s taking it easy on you. You don’t care.

“Where’s your mind at, honey?” He asks, dribbling the ball he just stole from you and shooting it. You pretend to be frustrated, pretend like you actually care if you lose, like you’re actually giving your best. Steve knows better, but he doesn’t push it, figuring you were just tired still.

When a group of guys Steve played basketball with came into the gym, begging ‘king’ steve to join a game with them, Steve almost declined until you made some comment about being tired and going to sit on the bleachers for a break.

You knew the real show was about to start, and that he’d love a chance to show the guys from high school how he’s still got it. Steve’s gearing all the way up when they start picking teams, and you know based on the line up it’s going to be an aggressive game.

You’re dazed while you watch him play for the next hour. He’s concentrating hard, yelling out an instruction to his other teammates, in charge, sweating so hard that he keeps lifting up his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead and revealing that happy trail. Your composure is crumbling quickly.

And you don’t realize the way you’re looking at him even though you know you’re thirsting hard. He sees though. About halfway through the game when he’s checking on you during a time out. You give him your water bottle to drink out of even though you hate sharing germs, run your fingers through his sweaty hair, and give him two kisses despite the fact that he knows he tastes like sweat, and that you have an audience.

After that he realizes how hard you’re watching him and he knows he has to show out for the end of the game. Everytime he glances at you, you look so invested. Like you used to in high school when you suddenly became interested in basketball again after a long hiatus during your pre teen years. Except now there’s a new detail that Steve has noticed. You’re squeezing your thighs together so hard, he thinks you’re about to burst. He can’t help but wonder how long you’ve been that way and if that was the reason you’re so intrigued with basketball, with no interest in playing.

Steve made sure to win. Made sure he earned every filthy thing he was going to do to you. When he walks up to you, you don’t realize that you’ve been caught. Not when he’s dragging you behind him, not even when he opens the door to the men’s locker room, ushering you inside. It’s when he locks the door with you against it that your brain finally kickstarts into realizing what’s happening.

“Steve we’re gonna get caught-” You start but your voice is lodged in your throat when his fingers dip into your shorts. You know what he finds when he does, and if you didn’t the smirk on his face would have told you.

“All this from watching me play, honey.” The condescending lilt to his voice, has your brain turning to mush in the best way. That mixed with the way he’s running his knuckles over your folds.

“Steve” You try again, more firm when you hear voices passing from outside the door, but your voice just turns into a whimper, as you try to cope with the way he’s touching you.

“Shut up for me, so I can focus.” He shushes, yanking your shorts down. You gasp when he does so, but step out of them nonetheless when he gestures for you to do so. This is his first time touching you like this since you dry humped him for all he was worth in the family video parking lot and you’re curious about where he’s going with this.

He grabs your panties, balling them up in his hand before coming back up to you. “Open your mouth.” You do without a second thought, letting him stuff the underwear into your mouth.

“Fuck you’re a good girl.” He notes before dropping to his knees. “Prettiest pussy, I’ve ever seen.” And he’s not talking to you really but to your pussy. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder before going in, licking and slurping at you like a starved man.

You’re pretty sure it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s so sloppy about it and you love every second.

When he leans down a bit to fuck your hole open with his tongue, his nose nudges your clit. Your moans and whimpers are concealed by the makeshift gag, but the way your hand flys to Steve’s hair to hold him in place lets him know exactly the effect he’s having on you.

He chuckles when he feels you clenching up on his tongue, already so close and he’s just barely touched you. He presses you deeper into the door when he feels your knees buckling, moaning into your cunt at the feeling of you tugging his hair.

Steve wishes he didn’t need you to be quiet. He wishes he could hear every single one of your whimpers and moans. Hear you calling him ‘Stevie’ in that whiny little voice, but he also knows he doesn’t want anyone else to hear you. Not when you’re all his.

You tumble over the edge pretty quickly, tears cascading down your face, which is the first thing Steve sees when he stands back up, licking his lips. He’s rubbing your overstimulated clit, when he pulls the damp panties out your mouth, releasing all the built up sounds from you.

“Aw, honey.” He coos, wiping away the tears with your panties. He’s fucking filthy. He kisses you after that, so tenderly that you almost forget how he’s toying with you.

“Stevie..” There it is. Steve thinks to himself. He kisses you again trying to hush your moans.

“You like watching me play, sweetheart? That turns you on?” He asks, still massaging your clit.

“So much.” You admit. Steve wants to laugh at how gone you are, but he’s affected just as much as you.

“Not very nice, that you didn’t tell me.” He says.

“M’sorry, Stevie.” You’re getting too loud and Steve has to shush you as he hears voices in the hallway, suddenly remembering where you are.

“It’s okay baby, you gonna cum for me?” As soon as he suggests it, he knows it's coming and his lips are back on yours, silencing your moans.

******

“Dude, why are you staring at me?” Steve asks you, his face red. You stared at him all the way home from the gym. You stared at him when you got home and it had been an hour later, both of you showered and supposed to watch a movie, and you were still staring.

“I just think you’re kinda rude.” You say.

“I’m rude?” Steve asks, flabbergasted wondering what he could have possibly done in such a short period of time. His mouth hanging open.

‘“Yes because I have had, I want to say maybe like three- four orgasms with other people, in the span of multiple years and you’re telling me this whole time you knew how to do that twice in the span of not even like ten minutes.” Steve’s once red face was now taken over by a cocky grin.

“Like dude. How did you do that? I’ve never done that before.” You can’t even bring yourself to care that you’re inflating his huge ego. You’re genuinely confused and you’re thinking it has to be witchcraft.

“It’s easy when you’re that turned on.” He tells you, but you shake your head.

“I’m always that turned on.” You dismiss, making him laugh at how genuine you sound when you say it.

“Always?” He asked, to which you nod.

“You walk around here shirtless every morning. Of course I am.” You say simply, and Steve can’t help but be surprised at your sudden frankness. “And even then I can’t even make myself cum twice. Especially not that fast.”

“So, let me get this right.” Steve starts with a mischievous grin. “You’re saying when you play with yourself, after seeing me shirtless you can’t make yourself cum twice?” He’s teasing you for your slip up and you know it. You can’t help rolling your eyes.

“That’s what I said, Steven.” You say playfully, your eyes narrowed.

His eyes narrow back at you before he’s tackling you to the couch, tickling you. Laughing at your shrieks, and the sight of you trying to wriggle away from him.

“I’m sorry!” You let out in between gasps for air and laughter. When Steve finally lets up you pinch him for being unfair.

When you finally catch your breath, you realize Steve is staring at you with a look that can only be described as adoring.

“Here you go, again.” You say with pretend exasperation, and shaking your head. You’re only teasing him, so that you yourself don’t turn into a pile of mush like always. Steve rolls his eyes at you, realizing just how much he’s missed your banter, these last couple days. You’d gone shy on him, when getting used to the changes in your relationship and he was glad to see that your sass was back in full swing.

“Come give me a kiss.” He insists, gesturing to his lap.

“Why are you always trying to get me into your lap?’ You ask before settling down on top of him anyway. Nothing sexual about it, as you press a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before trying to move again.

“I like you here.” He says before pulling you back down on top of him to get another one. “If that’s how you rush touching yourself, no wonder you can’t make yourself cum.” He jabs, even though that’s not what you said.

You’re about to respond, when you hear someone clear their throat. “Mom!” you yelp in surprise, practically flying off of Steve’s lap.

“Well this is an interesting way to be welcomed home.” Your mom looks almost amused at the display in front of her. The other part is as shocked as you feel, knowing she was home way earlier than she was supposed to be.

“How long were you standing there?” You ask, mortified, You’re seconds away from having the worst meltdown of your life.

“Long enough to know that you should invest in a vibrator. “ She goads, sending Steve a look. He’s redder than a tomato, knowing that the woman who’s known him since before he was ten heard him say that.

Your mom is way chiller than she should be, considering the circumstances, but she’s always been that way. Unbothered and entertained. If that was your dad standing there, you both know this would be an entirely different story.

‘Oh my goodness. Kill me now.” You mutter dramatically.

“No need for theatrics. I knew last week when you came home with that hickey on your neck. You didn’t even bother to try to cover it up either. Where’s the respect?” She jokes , as you hide your face behind your hands at your carelessness.

You’re sure that life cannot get much worse than this.

“Good for you guys. But no and I mean it..” she started seriously “no funny business at all, on my couch.” When you groan she doubles downs. “I’m serious that couch was expensive.”

“Okay mom, we got it, thank you.” You say pulling Steve up from the couch and towards your room, too mortified to make eye contact with her.

Once you and Steve make it to your room both of your horrified faces meet… and you’re doubling over in deranged laughter.

*****

tags: @smilesworldsposts @livsters @ali-r3n @em-guitar-pick @wolflover1005 @lexingtoon @eds1986

p.s. some of these didn't work and idk why

#fantasylandloserfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve x reader #stranger things

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f1goat · 4 months

Text

roommates ; lando norris + part five

In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.

masterlist - playlist

lando norris x fem!verstappen reader tw: nothing much yet expect that Lando is a player + i don't proofread + smut will come next chapters!

The following day you’re not surprised by the way you’re feeling. After standing in the pouring rain yesterday it doesn’t surprise you that you’re feeling sick. After wearing your soaked dress for way too long, it only seems logical that you’re not feeling that well right now. It does however annoy you. You don’t feel like getting out of your bed. You’d rather stay in your bed for the rest of the day. However, Lando did already sent you multiple texts about grabbing breakfast together somewhere. After yesterday you don’t want to say no to him. So, with a big sigh you get out of your bed.

When you leave the comfort from your bed, the cold air is quick to hit you. It reminds you that you really don’t know how to dress yourself. Then you notice Lando his sweater laying on your floor. When you were shivering in the car next to him yesterday, he eventually pulled of his own sweater and gave it to you. Without giving it a second thought, you pick it up and put it on. You grab some pants from your closet and continue to get dressed. More effort then this isn’t in it today. You skip doing your make up and start to walk out of your room.

Lando is quick to give you a confused look when he sees you coming towards him. “Are you okay?” He asks you. In the mean time he can’t look somewhere else then at the sweater you’re wearing. It makes him feel all fuzzy on the inside that you’re wearing his sweater again.

“Good morning to you too,” you softly chuckle, “I’m feeling okay.”

“You don’t look okay,” Lando quickly replies.

“I’m okay,” you repeat your earlier words.

“You’re lying,” Lando states.

“Let’s go for breakfast?” You try to change the subject. Lando lets out a soft laugh. You notice how cute his laugh can be. Then he shakes his head at you. “Babygirl,” he softly says, “it’s pretty clear that you’re sick. We’re not going out like this.”

You wonder how Lando noticed in this short amount of time that you’re not feeling well. He barely saw you and already figured you out. Even Max isn’t this fast with seeing right through you. Lando keeps amazing you lately. Yesterday night was also one of those moments. When you came back at his place after the disaster with your ex, Lando made sure he took care of you for the rest of the evening. Together the two of you watched some movies, while Lando made sure you were feeling comfortable. Eventually you ended up falling asleep on him, only for him to wake you up and bring you to your own bed. He keeps confusing you.

“But you wanted to get breakfast,” you reply to Lando.

“And now I want you to feel better,” Lando is quick to reply.

“Why?” You ask surprised. Lando confuses you again with his words. It’s not that it’s bad for him that you’re sick, right? Or is he afraid that you will infect him as well? Maybe it’s about that. Then you should get back to your room you guess.

“Because you need to join me to the race this weekend,” Lando states.

“I need to join you?” You ask surprised.

“Yes,” Lando replies. He’s not making things more clear. Why does he want you to join him? You want to ask him that question and a lot of other questions, but Lando is already talking again. “What about pancakes for breakfast?” He asks you.

You laugh about the way he changes the subject, but you do accept the pancakes. “One condition,” you quickly tell him, “You’ll let me help.”

“No, no,” Lando replies, “I’ll make the pancakes, go sit down babygirl.”

You feel your heart flutter at the nickname. It reminds you about yesterday. Maybe your ex was right. It only feels right when Lando is the one who calls you babygirl. That can’t be good.

“No offense Lan, but you can’t even cut up some onions. It seems a bit more safe for me to help you.”

Lando chuckles and makes room for you to join him at the counter.

+++

The rest of that day, Lando makes sure you’re close to him. It’s surprisingly sweet how close he keeps you to himself. He hasn’t left you alone once today. You overheard one of his friends calling him and asking to do something, but Lando was quick to say no. It kinda feels like you’re his priority today. You can’t deny that it makes you feel good.

For now he has you pulled on top of himself on the couch. You’re watching one of your guilty pleasure reality shows. Lando is making fun of the people who participate, but doesn’t complain about the show itself. In the mean time he focusses on playing with your hair. He has you closer on top op him then last night. Maybe it’s because you’re sick and in the need of comfort, maybe it’s because you slowly start to realize that you like Lando, but you let him hold you exactly how he wants to. Meaning that you’re on top of him, with your head on his chest.

Eventually you fall asleep on top of Lando. The tiredness of being sick caught up with you. Lando is quick to notice it. He hears the soft snores which you’re letting out caused by your cold. It’s cute according to him, although he’s sure you won’t agree with him on that. While you’re sleeping, Lando continues to play with your hair.

Lando has sunken deep into his own thoughts. He can’t stop thinking about the progress he made. Max would be proud of him. It has always surprised him how supportive Max has been about his feelings for you. What once started like a small crush, has developed into a massive one for now. Max once told him about your ex and how he really disliked the guy - something Lando strongly agrees with since yesterday. But, because of that Lando always thought Max would be protective and wouldn’t be a fan when he told him about his crush.

“You’re the worst you know,” Max tells Lando with a soft chuckle. Lando is quick to watch away from you and to focus his attention on his friend. He really should stop staring this much at you. In the mean time you’re walking away. Lando can’t help it and watches you once again.

“The absolute worst,” Max continues.

“Hm?” Lando asks, “Why am I the worst?”

“Your eyes are practically glued on my sister,” Max states.

Lando wants to deny the words of Max, but he can’t even find words to do so. Max is right. He only hopes that Max doesn’t connect the dots further. Max laughs when Lando doesn’t respond at first.

“Don’t stress about it,” Max continues, “I don’t mind your crush on her.”

“My crush?” Lando is quick to ask, “I don’t have a-“

“Lando,” Max sighs while interrupting him. “You don’t have to lie about it.”

“You don’t mind it?” Lando asks, he needs to make sure he heard it right. Max has always been really protective about you, so Lando is surprised with how this is going.

“If she has to have a boyfriend, then your my first pick.”

It’s the doorbell that shakes him out of his earlier thoughts. Lando opens the app on his phone. You’re still asleep on his lap. He wants to keep it that way. When he sees the person in front of the door, he chuckles softly. What a coincidence. He taps on the microphone and starts to talk.

“Hey Max, there’s a key under the doormat. I’m in the living room,” he says. He notices how Max nods at him and starts to search for the key. It only takes a small minute before Max is walking into his living room.

When Max walks in, the first thing he notices is you laying on top of Lando while being peacefully asleep. He lets out a soft laugh while looking at Lando and you. “Things are finally working out for you I see?” He asks at first.

While Lando and Max are making some small talk, you slowly wake up as well. At first you wonder to who Lando is talking to, but then you recognize the voice of your brother. You doubt about opening your eyes and showing the boys that you’re awake. They seem to have fun talking together. You decide to give yourself a couple more minutes before intervening in the conversation of Max and Lando.

“You keep surprising me,” you hear Max tell to Lando, “A couple nights back she kept texting me about how annoying you were and how you were keeping awake, but now she’s sleeping on top of you? And in your sweater?”

“It’s a surprise for me as well,” Lando replies. You feel how his hand finds your hair again. Slowly he caresses your hair locks. It makes you feel even more comfortable. It can’t be good how comfortable you are with Lando. It surprises you.

“So no more random girls?” Max asks.

You can’t hear Lando his response. He probably either shook or nodded his head. You wonder which one was it. Max chuckles about it, so you guess he nodded his head. You know for a fact that Lando is a player and will always stay one. It makes your small crush on him only more hopeless. What you don’t know is that Lando never shook his head harder to answer with no to a question.

“But since when are you this close?” Max asks further.

“I don’t know if we’re this close,” Lando sighs, “There was some drama yesterday night, but she should tell you herself about that. I picked her up and tried to help her. And this morning she was sick, so we did nothing all day expect lay on the couch.”

“Since when can you do that?” Max asks surprised, “Normally you can’t even be home for more then an hour.”

Slowly you open your eyes as well. It starts to feel a bit rude to listen to Max and Lando like this. Although you do feel kinda annoyed that Lando still is having sex with other girls. Not that you care, of course. Max is the first one to discover your open eyes and that you seem to be awake.

“Hey!” He greets you enthusiastically. Softly you greet your brother back. You try to sit up a bit instead of laying on Lando, but Lando is quick to keep you close to him. He does however let you sit straight, but after that he pulls you into his arms again. You don’t say anything about it, you just let it happen. Maybe you should stop things like this. You remember yourself about Lando and the other girls and slowly move away from Lando.

In the mean time Max tells Lando and you everything that happened to him lately. You try to focus on his words, but Lando beats you with responding quickly every time. You let it happen. In some strange way, you can’t seem to focus. Maybe it’s still the sickness.

“What did I hear? You had some drama?” Max asks you eventually with a smile.

“It was my ex,” you softly sigh. Max is quick to lose his earlier smile. You know that he has always hated your ex. There wasn’t any specific reason, as far that you know, but Max didn’t like your ex since the beginning.

“What happened?” Max asks quickly.

You start to explain everything to Max what happened last night, giving more details this time then Lando even knew. “He still had some of my stuff,” you start, “and he wanted to meet up to give it back, so we agreed on grabbing dinner together. At first it wasn’t that bad, but eventually he started about getting back together.”

“He wanted to get back together with you?” Lando asks you annoyed. You show him a small nod. Max is muttering some swear words as well in the mean time. You ignore their reactions and continue with telling them what happened.

“I told him that I wasn’t interested anymore,” you explain, “but he thought I had a new boyfriend. He even asked me if it was Lando. I kept telling him that I’m still single, but not feeling anything for him anymore but he didn’t believe me. Eventually he called me a bitch, so I paid for my part and wanted to leave.”

“You should have called me earlier,” Lando mutters, “I should have joined you or something, I knew it was a bad idea.”

“He kept bugging me while I was waiting for Lando to pick me up. Thank god Lando broke probably every speed law and was there really fast,” you joke, “but when my ex saw Lando, he got even more mad. He called me a slut.”

“He called you a slut?” Max asks angrily. You nod.

“Then it kinda escalated,” you continue, “Long story short, he called me a slut again, Lando punched him and eventually my ex missed Lando and punched me.”

Max is quick to stand up. “I’m going to kill him,” he mutters, “What a fucking idiot.”

“But Lando made him scared and then he ran away,” you end the story.

Max is still angry. He does however turn his attention towards Lando. “This is why,” Max eventually tells Lando. You have no clue about what he’s talking, but Lando seems to get it. Lando even shows him a small smile. He knows that this is Max telling him why he does approve of him trying to get with you.

+++

Later that day you feel a lot better then before. Even good enough to have an argument with Lando. It annoys you that things always have to go like this. Everything went well today, but now you’re feeling angry with him again. You don’t even know how it happened, but you’re almost screaming at Lando right now. Fuck.

Lando just told you about his plans to have some drinks with friends tonight, meaning that he would leave you alone for the rest of the night. You couldn’t help yourself and made a small remark about him coming home again with a girl. Which Lando denied, according to him he hasn’t done that since the last girl you heard. Something you don’t believe.

“Why don’t you believe me?” Lando sighs.

“Because you’re a player,” you reply annoyed, “you don’t change like that.”

Lando lets out another loud sigh. He doesn’t know what to say. Of course, he realizes that your claims aren’t coming from nowhere. Maybe he even thinks he deserves it, but still… he wants you to believe him.

“Why do you even care about this?” Lando eventually asks you a bit hopeless. He doesn’t know why you’re arguing with him about this. Of course, he hopes that you do care about it, but the chances are kinda low for that.

“I don’t care about it,” you are quick to state.

“Then why are we arguing about this?” Lando continues to ask.

You don’t have an answer for that question. Lando is right, if you claim to not care about this then it’s stupid to even talk about it. But having this argument with him, is less scary then confessing that you actually do care about it.

“So correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t care if I’m bringing home a girl?” Lando asks further. He’s pushing it this time. Of course, he hopes that you’re going to deny his words but he’s afraid that you won’t.

You doubt about your answer. Maybe you should just be honest. You do care if Lando brings home a girl, because you really don’t want it to happen. This time not because you’re afraid that the sounds will wake you up, but because you’re afraid for your own reaction when it happens. It annoys you that you can’t seem to trust yourself around Lando anymore. There’s a small part inside of you who’s dying to disagree with Lando his words, to tell him that you do care about it. But the small part doesn’t win, you’re not confessing.

“I don’t care,” you state.

Lando takes one last look at you before walking away. He shakes his head in disbelief and sighs while walking away from the living room. In the mean time he decides that this was it. It has no use to walk after you and to wait until you’ll give him a chance, if that would ever happen. You don’t care about him fucking with another girl, so why would he hold back anymore? He really needs to forget about his crush on you. It can’t go like this any longer.

Later that night, you can’t seem to fall asleep. You’re still annoyed by everything that happened. Maybe you’re even so annoyed that you’re still sitting on the couch and scrolling on your phone, instead of being in your bed and catching some sleep. You feel your fever rising up again, but you don’t let yourself go to bed.

You need to know if Lando brings someone home.

Lando didn’t text you, you also didn’t text him after he walked away. You don’t know if he’s coming home late, you can only hope it won’t be that late. You know that this is weird. This isn’t healthy. But still, here you are - sitting on the couch and waiting for Lando to come back home. Maybe you should talk about this with Max? You really need some help.

Before you can make up your mind, you hear the front door opening. It only takes two seconds before you have the answer on your burning question.

It’s the innocent giggles of another random girl that forms the answer to your question. Of course, he bought someone home with him.

a/n; sorry took a bit longer this time :( kinda busy with workkk. hope everyone likes this chapter, the next one will have something more happening :))))

part six

taglist: @booksandflowrs @hiireadstuff @likedbygaslyy @dreamsarebig @f1fantasys

@samantha-chicago @sweatrevenge5436-blog @queenofmanydreams @fionamiller123

@chezmardybum @f-1-lover-16 @formulaal @shellybee456 @sltwins

@mouchii @emyladia @v3rnom @customsbyjcg-blog @cthgee @moonclaine

@scarletwidow3000 @bokutos-babyowl @loloekie @lyannesworld @silentreader128

@oreosareara @gabotomo @princesspristins @leclercsluv @lina505

@sideboobrry11 @zucchinimalfoy @danielshoe @alana4610 @viannasthings

@toriiez @randomnessis-mine-me @cmleitora

@kika-writes @fionamiller123 @noneofyourfbusinessworld @lqvesoph @lyannesworld

@sheeeesthings @ssararuffoni @f1fantasys @chrissiekitty19-blog @voidsfics

@curbthatmf @m41-k1tt3n @f1fantasys @m41-k1tt3n @allywthsr

@curbthatmf @sheeeesthings @m41-k1tt3n @blacksoul-27 @f1fantasys

@spideylovin @splzq @chcolateeyelver @bennywattsgf @mswwvaleska

@lifesass @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @insunia

#lando norris #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris x reader #ln4 #lando norris imagines #lando norris imagine #formula one #f1

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raggedyflowers · 9 months

Text

“Wrap me like a Christmas gift” 🎁

summary: op men reacting at you being… their christmas gif ?? you wrapped in a red ribbon ??? that’s it, that’s the post

character: Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Law x female reader

cw: 🔞 smut and fluff. oral sex (male and female receiving), penetrative sex — very misuse of ribbon 🎀

Zoro:

the strawhats decided to exchange the Christmas gifts on the desk of the Sunny

you were so happy unwrapping all your present, but even happier when you saw the reaction of your friends when they opened the gifs you made to them

only one persone was left without a gift from you

“Gonna give my gift for you later” you winked at Zoro

“Hope it’s gonna be the biggest bottle of sake” Zoro rolled his eyes

Later when you two were left alone, you smirked to him. “Wanna unwrap your gift now?”

He looked disinterested, but when you lose the knot of your dress and let him saw what you got under it…

or maybe… what you didn’t wear under them

only a red ribbon placed between your breast and a smile on your face

Zoro maybe did lose the capacity of speak

“Woman you’re gonna kill me” he shook his head walking toward you

“Before you die, don’t you wanna enjoy your gift?”

he did enjoyed your gift — all night long

“I — I can’t take it anymore” you mourned after the first two orgasms.

“I though you were my gift” he said to you, lifting his fece buried in your pussy. “Be a good girl and gimme another one on my tongue and then I maybe give you my cock — thing of it as my gift”

the bastard smirked before returning to licking your cunt enjoying his gift

Sanji:

almost everyone was already gone to bed

Sanji was left behind, cleaning the kitchen

“Pretty boy” you called him. “Do you wanna sneak a look at my gift?”

“Of course, love” he said. “Just let me finish here”

“But it’s getting cold” you whined

only in that moment Sanji turned back to your and his face reddened on the spot

He also got a nosebleed

“Y/n, love” he cried

you could only smirk at him, naked but for a apron and a red ribbon between your hair

“Is this your gift?”

“Only for you, pretty”

He walked near to you, kissing with passion and immediately slipping his tongue on your mouth

his hand traveled on your body, brushing against your nipples and making your shivering

“All of this just for me” he whispered to your ear “Am I the luckiest man alive?”

there wasn’t any doubts Sanji would’ve loved your gift

and he proved to you when he bended you on the kitchen table and fucked you against it

“So good for me” he said, voice filler with arousal. “My pretty girl giving me the best gift”

“Yes — yes, only for you” you repeated the mind fuzzy.

He kept pounding you from behind with a fast pace while keeping whispering loving nothings into your heard

“Too bad my gift for your was the same”

“Too bad — we should repeat this on our room”

Ace:

“Hey Hotshot, what gift do you want for Christmas?”

so, your boyfriend was the best… but he wasn’t really helpful in those situations

“I only want you” he said, kissing the top of your head

… really sweet, but you needed something more.

but then and idea come into your head

“Hotshot” you called him some nights later, when everybody was already sleeping after unwrapping their christmas present. “I actually have a gift for you”

Ace looked at you with curious eyes and a beautiful smile on his face

“Did you?” he asked exited

“Yes, but you have to take this off” you smirked pointing at your red and white dress

Ace was taken aback, but then smirked back at your and started to unbuttoning your dress

When he found the red ribbon wrapped around you where your underwear was supposed to be, you felt his hand become even more hotter then usual

“You said you only wanted me as a gift”

“Not what I meant — but so much better”

Maybe he didn’t asked for anything, but your gift was so much better of what he could’ve ever think

“Come on Babydoll, keep going” he said with his hands tightening on your hips while you rode his cock

“Ace ~ ” you moaned with shaking legs. “Can’t you just fuck me already?”

“I thought this was my gift” he said cupping both of your breast with his hands and playing with your nipples

“Okay Hotshot, enjoy this. But after that you’re gonna eat me”

“At your orders, Babydoll”

Law:

Law problem was that he couldn’t tell you what he wanted for dear life — especially in your newfound relationship

you could only try to guess what his desires were

and finding a gift for him had become an impossible mission

maybe what you planned was mundane, but it was the only thing you could’ve thought

“Traffy ~” you called him for the thousand time. “Come to bed already?”

“Just one minute, y/n-ya” he said to you for the tenth time

“If you come now, I’m gonna give you your gift early” you tried to convince him

“You bought me a present?” he asked you, lifting his face from his book for the first time

“Well” you smirked to him. “There is a red ribbon attacked to it… but the ribbon happened to be down there”

When you pointed at yourself his face blushed, even if he tried to hide it under his hat

“I thought it was a gift you wanted to unwrap in private”

He did unwrapped his gift in private, in your shared room, enjoying every second of it

“Traffy — Law, please” you begging him, crying on his fingers insieme of you.

“My baby is so impatient, even if it was my gift”

“Sorry Traffy, I want — want ” you sobbed when his fingers curled inside of you hitting your g spot.

“Tell me, baby, what do you want?”

“You” you moaned. “I want you”

“Where do you want me?” he lowered toward you, kissing you more sweetly compared to his rude movements.

“Inside” you could only say on his lips before kissing him with so much force and desperation.

“Alright” he said. “But you’re being a little selfish, it’s still my gift after all... will you let me fuck you all I want tonight?”

“Yes — fuck, yes. Use me all you want” you said back, only wanting his dick inside you and his lips on your body

“Always so good with me” he caressed his cheek. “Now let me hear how pretty you scream my name”.

#one piece #one piece fluff #sanji x reader #trafalgar law #one piece fanfiction #sanji black leg #one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #law x reader #portgas d ace #ace x reader #ace op #reader insert #one piece smut #trafalgar d law x reader #op smut

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stevieschrodinger · 2 months

Text

Part One Two

“I’m really sorry,” Steve is saying before Eddie has the door fully open, but it makes Eddie smile. It feels like Steve has started saying ‘I’m sorry,’ instead of ‘hello’ as a matter of course.

It’s Sunday afternoon though, and Eddie isn’t cooking anything and Steve isn’t holding an empty plate, so Eddie has no clue what Steve could be sorry for this time.

“Could you come and help me with something? It’ll just take two moments.”

“Sure thing,” Eddie agrees easily, slipping on his adventure crocs and following Steve down the hall.

Eddie follows Steve into and then through his apartment into the small bedroom. It’s a two bed apartment, the same as Eddie’s. Eddie uses his spare room to store his guitars. He has a desk in there too; a place to write and paint his miniatures and do guitar maintenance.

It’s a nursery. It’s cute, animal themed. The ceiling is painted powder blue, which drops down onto the walls about a foot before ending in a neatly done scalloped edge. The walls are white, but have cloud shapes printed on them in the same blue. There are random tufts of painted grass popping up from the floor; some with flowers. The rocker and the other furniture, including crib and chest of drawers, are all painted the same green, and the blinds are green jungle, with elephants and big cats and monkeys hiding amongst the leaves. A lot of the soft things are yellow and white, and Eddie has not a fucking clue as to the sex of Steve’s pup, so he asks as much.

Steve smiles, “I don’t know. I didn’t want to know. I like surprises.”

“Huh. Well. I’m always the one shaking the gifts at Christmas, but I do love a surprise too. What did you need?”

“We have the fixings for the mobile there ready, but I clean forgot about it until now, and I’m too big to stretch up there. Didn’t do it at the time because we were moving furniture and I was frightened I’d break it.”

“Okay sure,” Eddie takes the dangly parts of the mobile; cute little moons and stars and sun shapes, and fixes it to the bit already attached to the ceiling. It’s nice, and easy to figure out, but it does hang low so he gets what Steve means.

He also sees why Steve can’t reach; he seems to have suddenly gotten even bigger over the last week, and he's also only been wearing these sort of loose shift dresses, like a blouse, a button up, and a tent had a horrendous love child.

He looks gorgeous though. Eddie always thought pregnancy must be pretty fucking miserable; your body betraying you almost. Needing to pee all the time, unreasonable hormones. Cravings. Morning sickness. Odd shit happening all over the place. Eddie always figured telling pregnant people that they’re ‘glowing’ was just a nice thing people said to make them feel better during what must be a pretty shitty nine months.

Not with Steve though. Steve’s actually glowing. Not like literally glowing but...he’s beautiful, and Eddie suddenly understands what all the fuss is about.

Steve clears his throat. Right. Right okay, Eddie’s creepy staring, “so I was going to make chicken parm again tonight, since I know you like it and it’s been a bit...do you maybe want to get out the apartment and come to another, slightly different, apartment?”

Steve laughs a little, looking at where his hands cradle his bump, before looking back up, cheeks pink, “I think I’d like that.”

Eddie’s laid the table as nice as he can. He snagged a little bunch of daisy looking things out of the garden and shoved them in a mug, just because he remembered Steve’s little daffodil.

He doesn’t own place mats, but he does dig out a table cloth he usually only uses for games night; it’s black, but it’s clean.

Steve settles himself at the table and Eddie goes and gets dinner, he can’t help but notice Steve shift in his seat, wincing.

“You okay?”

Steve hums, “been getting funny back pain, but it’s all normal. Could be anything really, just the weight of the baby, or maybe they are leaning on my sciatic nerve. It’s all fine. Nearly done now.”

Steve takes the first bite of his dinner and hums appreciatively. It makes Eddie warm inside, a little tickle of his brain releasing happy chemicals. Omega is being fed. Omega is safe and happy.

Eddie tells it to fuck off.

“So you’re due soon?” Which feels like he;s stating the obvious, Steve is the size of a tiny moon.

“Tomorrow.”

Eddie makes a noise, startled, then nearly chokes on a string of spaghetti, “excuse me,” he manages to get out, before drinking half his water, Steve looking half concerned and more than a little amused from the other side of the table. “Tomorrow?” Eddie asks weakly.

Steve nods, chewing and swallowing before he answers, “the due date is tomorrow, but it’s the norm really for first pups to go over that, even more normal with male Omega, don’t worry, it’s fine. Although it should be soon, I passed the mucus plug yesterday.”

Eddie nearly chokes again, “the what?” he tries his best not to sound too horrified.

“Oh. Sorry, you probably don't want to hear about the uhm, the kind of gross stuff.”

“No, no, of course it’s fine what is...uhm...that?” And Eddie is fully prepared to regret acquiring this cursed knowledge. He doesn’t even know what it is and he’s already eyeing his spaghetti sauce dubiously. For Steve though...he will learn about the gross stuff.

“Oh, well, when you’re pregnant you get sort of this...lump of...gacky stuff and blood. You don’t have periods when you’re pregnant usually, so it kind of protects everything from infection getting in and stuff like that.”

Eddie takes a deep breath and lets it out, blowing up his bangs, and makes himself eat his dinner normally, “fair enough, but that means you’re...kinda’ close?”

“Well, kinda’. Robin’s spending this morning with her girlfriend and then this afternoon sorting her place out. She’ll be over later, she’s moving in until the pups a week old or so, just make sure I’m okay.”

“She’s...a really good friend, right?” It warms Eddie to know Steve has someone like that in his life.

“Yeah...she’s been there with me through everything. Every appointment, all the classes, everything. Even when I decided I wanted to do this it was...it was right after yet another crappy breakup, you know. She could have said all the sensible things about maybe it's not the right time yet, or that I should...think about it. You know, all that things that would have been totally reasonable for her to say but I'd just...I’d just had enough of waiting and she said she’d support me whatever, and that was that. She’s the best.”

Steve shifts again, putting down his cutlery to try and stretch his back out, hissing with pain, “you sure you’re okay?” Eddie asks, concerned.

“Yeah, fine I think,” Steve bends forward then, gripping the edge of the table and breathing out harshly through his nose, “oh that felt weird.”

Eddie’s up and coming around the table before he can stop himself, hovering his hands, not sure if it’s okay to touch, “Steve?”

“I...oh. Oh gosh I’m so sorry Eddie,” Steve stands cautiously revealing a very clear wet patch on the seat.

“I...that’s fine,” Eddie squeaks out, “are you...is this. Is that…?”

“Yeah, pretty sure my water just broke. And I really wanted that chicken parm,” Steve sighs.

“I can make it again,” Eddie says reflexively, “kind of feel like there’s bigger things to think about what should- like can I help? What do we do?”

Eddie finds himself, very strangely, not panicking. Like, well, maybe a little, but not an uncontrollable amount. Which now he’s here that’s a really nice surprise.

“I’ll just call Robbie, and then will you walk me home?”

And Eddie had maybe had inappropriate thoughts about walking Steve home so he could steal a kiss, not whatever this is. But. Still. “Of course.”

Steve smiles at him with his phone next to his ear, “it’s go time Birdie. Oh, what was I supposed to say? Code red? The eagle is...leaving? I can’t remember, you couldn’t make your mind up about the-” Steve hisses, bending to lean on the table, “yep, yep, see you soon.”

Steve hangs up, telling Eddie she’s on her way as they walk down the hall, dinner abandoned on the table. Steve chooses to stand, walking little laps back and forth along the back of the couch, “is there anything I can do?”

“My bag and car seat are in the nursery, if you don’t mind grabbing those?” Eddie does, putting Steve’s things right by the door, “oh, and a towel, from the bathroom? I don’t want to make a mess in Rob’s car.”

“Sure thing,” Eddie grabs a bath towel from there, and puts it on top, just as Steve’s phone starts ringing.

Eddie can practically feel it when Steve tenses up, his scent turning bitter with distress. Despite what’s going on, Steve’s scent hadn’t changed at all until now, “your car won’t start?”

He sounds terrified.

“I. Yeah. Okay. I can wait I’ll- okay.”

“Okay?” Steve shakes his head, eyes suddenly wet, he looks like he’s biting back tears and Eddie can’t stop himself from going to him.

“She’s got to wait for Chrissy to get to her place and pick her up, then they’ll come over,” Eddie has to make this better. He has to.

“Okay, how about this, me and you go now, I’ll take you, and they can meet you there? That’ll make it faster right?”

“I mean, I’m not...I mean labor can take hours and hours, I’m being silly I just- Eddie I’m a bit scared. She was supposed to be here, it’s a bit too soon.”

They end up holding hands, which Eddie’s kind of thrilled about even if Steve is squeezing the life out of him, “would you feel better if you were waiting at the hospital?”

Steve bites his lip, clearly torn, “are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I’ll get my keys.”

Part Four

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #pre getting together #pre steddie #dustin henderson #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #ao3 author #ficlet #ao3 writer #mpreg

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moonstruckme · 9 months

Note

“Wow,” Morgan sighs happily, “I don’t know which one of you is more whipped.”

i'm so obsessed with this line from one of your recent spencer reid works and i would loooove to see more of this dynamic if you're interested in doing it 💗 maybe more moments of them being soft/whipped for each other and the team noticing it? thank youuu!!

Thank you lovely!

cw: mention of kidnapping (more a backdrop than anything)

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 1k words

Spencer really wishes he’d remembered his gloves. The air is biting, fresh powder glistening on the deep green spruces whose boughs stoop under its weight. It’s picturesque, and yet the snowfall couldn’t have come at a worse time. It’s impeded their search party by hours, potentially dooming the kidnapping victim they’re all braving the weather for. Spencer keeps his hands stowed in his coat pockets.

“Hey.”

He turns as you and Emily come up behind him. You’re both dressed better than he is, actual winter wear as opposed to the tweed coat he’d worn into the police station that morning. Even so, your cheek and nose are look chilled as you smile at him. You carry a disposable coffee cup in each hand.

“Hi,” Spencer says, taking the one you extend to him. His numb fingers are grateful for the warmth of it. “I thought you guys were interviewing the uncle?”

Emily’s shaking her head before he’s finished speaking, mouth pulling in discontent. “That was a dead end. He and his sister have been estranged for years. He doesn’t know anything.”

A frown tugs at your features as Emily talks but you perk up quickly when you feel your boyfriend’s gaze. “We figured we’d be more helpful here,” you say brightly, “and also that you might want some liquid reinforcement.”

“Thanks.” He does a little toast with his disposable cup and regrets it immediately, but thankfully you smile. Spencer isn’t sure how he got so lucky; it seems like he can get away with any number of weird things and you’ll find them endearing every time. “There hasn’t been much progress here either. If they left any sort of tracks, the snow covered it up. I’m not…” he lowers his voice, angling his head away from the others in his group. “I’m not sure we’ll find her alive in this.”

“We’ve still got eight hours,” Emily points out.

She’s right, he tells himself. There are eight hours left in the forty-eight hour window. But that’s also just a statistic. And as someone whose brain is packed full of statistics, Spencer knows that they’re not always reflective of reality. The eight hours his team has left might be more for hope than anything else.

Emily drifts ahead of you in the group and you bump your shoulder lightly into his, forcibly derailing his train of thought. He looks over at you. Your lips are tipped up, just a little. Not faking anything, but understanding, a quiet promise that regardless of how today turns out, you’ll be in it together. He finds it easier than expected to return your smile.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Your hair curtains your face as you look down, unzipping your jacket to dig something out of the interior pocket. “You left your gloves at the station.”

“Yes.” You laugh at his eagerness as he takes them from you. “I can’t believe I forgot them, thanks so much for bringing them.”

“Of course, it was no problem.” Your eyes skim the trees. Spencer suspects that if your face weren’t already so pink it’d be coloring now. “I figured you might need them, so.”

“You were right.”

Your gaze flits to his as you grin, then falls to where he has his gloves held bunched with his coffee cup. “Oh, do you want me to take that so you can put them on?”

“That’d be great,” he says, relieved.

He holds the cup out to you. You reach for it, but when your fingers brush his in the transfer, you gasp, covering his hand with yours.

“Spence,” you say softly, remonstrance gentled. “Your hands are freezing!”

“They’re not as bad as they were before. What are you doing?”

You’ve taken one of his hands in yours and appear to be inspecting it closely. “Checking if your fingernails are blue.”

“They’re not,” he laughs, though he lets you finish your perusal until you’re satisfied. “I would know if I had frostbite. I’d be able to identify the symptoms early on.”

“They’re just so cold,” you fret. “I’ve never felt skin that cold before.”

The tops of his hands are still freezing, but his palms and the pads his fingers have warmed from the coffee cup. “I’m not sure they’re colder than your face,” he says, pressing his free hand to one of your cheeks.

Unsurprisingly, your skin is cool to the touch, but you smile warmly as you push your cheek into his palm.

“Okay, you two,” Emily says without turning around, “less fraternizing on the job.

You straighten immediately. “We were just—”

“Being cute and coupley?” Uncannily, Morgan appears on Spencer’s other side. He has no idea when his nosiest coworker had drifted back from the front of the group. “We know. But could you save it for the hotel later? Even all the sparks flying off you two can’t melt all this snow, and I want to get out of here sometime before dark.”

Spencer suspects his face is about as red as yours as he looks down to pull on his gloves. Morgan relishes in it, raising an eyebrow at you.

“And don’t think I didn’t notice that you brought pretty boy here a coffee and not me.” He tsks. “I didn’t expect such blatant favoritism from you, sweetheart. I’m disappointed.”

“I was carrying yours,” Emily says, her tone conveying an eyeroll so effectively she doesn’t need to follow through with the action. She pushes a disposable coffee cup into Morgan’s chest.

He doesn’t look one bit sheepish as he takes it, though Spencer notices you trying to repress a grin that’s bordering upon smug.

“This has lipstick on the lid.”

Emily shrugs. “I finished mine in the car.”

“So you started on mine?”

“I sampled.”

“You’re lucky I exhibit such blatant favoritism,” you say quietly to Spencer under their bickering. “I finished mine in the car too.”

He raises his eyebrows, and you shake your empty cup as proof. Spencer takes your hand, wrapping it around his coffee cup. “We’ll share.”

2K notes · View notes

theleotarot · 10 months

Text

Future Spouse - What You Both Love About Each Other ♡

Choose the image you are most drawn to or resonate most with… pile 1, pile 2, pile 3, & pile 4 ✨

18+ Warning For Some

Pile 1

What your future spouse loves about you ♡ -

(Tarot cards: 5 of Wands, 9 of Pentacles, & 9 of Swords) • (3 oracle cards)

Your future spouse absolutely loves it when you playfully fight and banter with them. When you playfully argue with them, it really does make them feel so attracted to you (it can even be a turn on to them lol). I can see that sometimes they will flirtatiously tease something about you just to get some rage out of you, and when you do show some anger, they really enjoy it. It’s not a bad thing here because after all the teasing, the both of you may end up in the bedroom wrapped up together in your bed sheets haha. There are lots of playfully wrestling and tangling up with each other that they love a lot. They seem to really love it when you show your jealous side as well. They like knowing that you want them all to yourself only. Your future spouse also loves it when you literally throw yourself on them when you miss them. Like on some days, I’m seeing your future spouse coming home from work and you running up to them to give them the biggest and longest hug ever just because you’ve missed them, and they adore that clingy side of you. Also, are you the type to lightly hit people when you laugh as a habit?? If you are, they also love that. They love your playful side, and they love your aggressiveness when it comes to playful bantering and energetic side when it comes to being in bed together. 😈 They also love that you will do anything it takes to get what you want with your goals. Even if you have competitions to go against, you will put your best effort into making your dreams a reality, and they definitely love this about you.

While sometimes you may show clinginess to them, your future spouse already knows that you are independent as a person, and they love that about you. They love that you love them, but they also love that you love yourself. Everyone has times where they feel down about themselves, but at the very core, you know your own self-love and self-worth. I can see that sometimes, you will be looking at yourself through the mirror and telling them “look how pretty I look today” or “look how good my muscles look” and they will smile and tell you how amazing you are, and they love it when you just acknowledge how hot you are. They love it when you take the time to dress up and show off how good you look to the world. Your future spouse is also so proud of you. They love that you have worked so hard to accomplish all the goals you have achieved and the hard work that you have done to be where you are at. They adore that side of you that is resilient and has gained so much abundance from it! They love your confident side! Your future spouse enjoys watching you sleep and loves the way you sleep, even if you feel like you don’t look nice while sleeping! They almost seem to view you as an angel when you’re sleeping. If you’re also insecure about any dark circles or eye bags that you’ve gained from many sleepless nights, they love that about you. Any insecurities that you may have about your face, they love all of it! They also love when you wear the color red. For Women, they love it the most when you wear a red dress or even red lingerie. For men, they love it when you dress in burgundy clothing.

What you love about your future spouse ♡ -

(Tarot cards: 2 of Cups, 3 of Wands, & 8 of Swords) • (3 oracle cards)

What you love about your future spouse is their love and care towards you. You love it how they are the person who you’ve always dreamed about being with, and you love it how they are your other half. You love it that they are not the type just to give you gifts on some occasions, but they are a person who takes the time to know your love language and love you they way that you want to be loved. You are so comfortable to be yourself with them, and you appreciate that they accept and love you for the way that you are. You also love it when your future spouse emotionally opens up to you. You love it when they are lovey-dovey to you just as much as when they’re upset about something and they vent to you about it. It’s kind of like you just enjoy finally having a partner who is available to you and reciprocates everything you feel back at you. You also love it how they are a great listener and always there for you when you are going through difficulties. I can see that on some days, maybe you have some conflict with family members, and it makes you very upset, and your future spouse is able to see right through you, so they set up a nice dinner arrangement for the both of you to let you know that they are there for you. You love this romantic and selfless side of them. You love it how they understand and see you clearly. Ultimately, you love it that they just get you.

You also love it how your future spouse is extremely outgoing and willing to take on new challenges in their life. You love it that they are always trying new things like a new hobby, job, food, class, and more to spice up their life. This also includes acts in the bedroom, if you know what I’m saying lol. I’m seeing that sometimes when you both are together in bed, out of nowhere they’re like “do you want to try this new thing out? Or do you want to try that thing we’ve always been wanting to try instead?” and it just makes you feel amazed at how exploring they are because it makes you explore new things too! In addition to the bedroom acts, you also love it that they are always wanting to expand themselves in all areas of their life. No matter what given situation they are going through, they will stay optimistic about the future and are ready to keep moving. You also love it when they take you out on trips and vacations for a getaway from your busy lives. I can see that your future spouse may have either dark features or a protective look to them that you are attracted to. Maybe sometimes they feel shy about the way they look and it’s kind of cute to you, or you are attracted to them when they look closed off. It’s kind of like you love it how they have this look on them that’s dark, sexy, reserved, and avoidant, but in reality, they aren’t as dark as they portray themselves. They are actually emotional, romantic, and outgoing.

Pile 2

What your future spouse loves about you ♡ -

(Tarot cards: Justice, 8 of Cups, & The Moon) • (3 oracle cards)

Your future spouse loves how truthful you are towards them. They absolutely love it when you are open with your feelings and tell them everything you think and do. Of course, everyone has things that they keep to themselves, but I believe that you are the type of person to tell their partner nearly everything, and that’s what they appreciate about you. It’s not that they are nosy about your life, but it’s that they love it when you show that you have trust in them. For instance, if you were to have a certain habit that you are ashamed of, you will eventually open up to them about it because you believe that they should be the one that helps you through breaking the bad habit. Not only do you talk to them about serious issues, but they are the one person you always call or text when something good happens to you, and they adore seeing you excited! They also really respect the morals that you have in your life, like telling the truth, showing compassion, not hurting others’ feelings, and having respect. You also implement these morals into your relationship, and they love this so much about you. For some of you, you may even “wait” to lose your virginity until you get married, and they really respect that out of you because they see you as someone who takes things very seriously and dedicated to their beliefs. With you, they have complete trust in you, and they just know that you are their forever person. I can also see that you may enjoy watching crime documentaries or interested in the law system, and they find that intriguing about you. Your future spouse also feels that you are the good karma in their life. They have given so much love to others, and maybe before you, they always felt like no one ever returned their love back to them, but after being with you, they realized that true love does exist for them. They have finally found the balance in their life, and they love you for helping them find it.

Your future spouse loves it how you don’t live in the past and that your past experiences don’t make you a bitter person. They admire that you are able to look at your negative experiences in the eyes and turn them into life lessons. I can see that sometimes, they may do something that they think will make you mad, but it turns out to be that you are okay with it and don’t overreact to it. They might be thinking “really?! how come she/he isn’t mad?!” And it’s because you have grown so much from your past experiences. You have learned to be patient and not tolerate things that don’t serve you anymore. Your future spouse loves this about you though. It’s not that you are a person that lets them step all over you, but it’s that you do not waste your time over the little things, and you have a lot of strength in moving on from difficult situations. They also love it how you can mentally take them away from things in their life. For instance, I can see that when your future spouse is having a bad day, they come to you to relieve themselves, and they just feel at ease with you. Maybe when they’re sad or mad, you take take them out to go moon gazing or star gazing, and they deeply appreciate your kindness for caring about them. If you are a lover of watching the moon or stars, they adore that about you, since they enjoy the romance between you and them when you both are watching the sky together. Your future spouse also loves that you are always changing your appearance. Maybe you like to dye your hair a lot, and they find that attractive, or maybe you like to change your clothing style a lot, and they find that attractive too. There’s also something about your eyes that make them feel nervous, I’m seeing that you may have eyes that shine so bright to them, like literally a glistening moon. If you have a rounder face, they find it to be extremely cute as well.

What you love about your future spouse ♡ -

(Tarot cards: Knight of Pentacles, The High Priestess, & 3 of Wands) • (3 oracle cards)

You love that your future spouse is emotionally stable and that they make you feel safe and secure in your relationship. Not only are they an achiever of their work and educational goals, but they are also an achiever of making you know that you are loved by them. They may not be as expressive of how they feel, but they show you their love through their hard work and actions. For instance, they may not tell you that they love you as much as you’d like, but they will let you know that they love you by cooking you meals, massaging you, picking up your children from school, and helping you do everyday tasks so that you can just lay back and rest. It’s not that they don’t love you, but I feel like their love language is more on the acts of service side, and you really love this about them. I can see that they love to give you expensive gifts from time to time as well, and you absolutely love their giving side. You kind of like being spoiled lol. I can also see that sometimes they may teach about some sort of things that you want to learn about. For instance, if you’d like to learn more about finance, they are the person who will teach you those skills, or if you’d like to learn more about cooking, they are the person who will teach you how to improve your cooking. Basically, they have a lot of knowledge on their end, and they teach you a lot of things in life, and you appreciate their guidance. They are also a very thoughtful individual where they think about everything before they say it out loud. It’s rare for them to slip out something that is offensive to you, and you are grateful for their kindness. Ultimately, you love the maturity and stability that your future spouse gives you in your relationship. You just know that they are your soulmate and that they love you with all their heart!

You love that your future spouse is very intuitive. They believe in themselves and may be quite independent when it comes to their work life. You just find it so attractive that they have self-confidence and can flow through issues by themselves. They might also believe in astrology and tarot reading as well! You will be fascinated by this. I can hear you saying “you really believe in those too?!” Haha. You love it how they would share this common interest with you. Your future spouse is also a great listener, and you appreciate them for always hearing you out. I can see that sometimes when you’re quiet because something is wrong, they will be able to see right through you and tell you that it is okay for you to talk it out with them. You love that they are empathic, and they are always willing to listen to your problems. They may also be reluctant to starting arguments with you. They stay away from having conflict with you because they dislike it when you both are mad at each other, and they just love you that much. You also love that they are always growing their appearance. For instance, if your future spouse works out, you will notice their progress and tell them how even hotter they look! I can see that you may be attracted to their toned muscles, and they are definitely irresistible to you. You might even be jealous at times, not because you think they will cheat on you, but because they just look so good that people are prone to like and want them! (But no they won’t cheat on you). They might have different hair styles that you like too. You also love it when they dress up in business attire. It makes them look so professional yet so sexy and confident at the same time!

Pile 3

What your future spouse loves about you ♡ -

(Tarot cards: Page of Swords, 3 of Wands, & 7 of Pentacles) • (3 oracle cards)

Your future spouse loves your young energy with them. They love that you are so fun to be around and that sometimes you can be blunt with them. They take it as a compliment that you are full of joy and you are forthright because it makes them feel young at heart and fearless with you. I can see that you are very adventurous and like to go out to different places as well. Maybe you like to go out on vacations and explore places that you’ve never been to, and they just enjoy having fun by your side, while also getting to explore the world. They also really love your laughter. I’m seeing that sometimes when you crack a joke with them, you laugh at your own joke, and they end up laughing so hard with you because they just love your laugh so much haha. They also love your communication skills with them. Not only are you blunt sometimes, but you take the time to let them know about what’s going on in your life, and they really appreciate that about you. They love the conversations that you both have as well. I can see that your conversations range from you talking about your personal life problems about your family relationships and friendships to conversations about you telling them something funny that happened to you during your day. They really love hearing your voice and laughter. They also really love how you are very lighthearted and don’t take everything so seriously all the time. Even though you are young, they definitely are aware that you are intelligent and smart as well. They never take your youthfulness for granted, and instead, they love how you are so open to being yourself. In the long run, they love your youthful energy and the fun, laughter, and joy that you bring into their life.

Your future spouse loves how ambitious you are towards your goals. If you are still getting your degree, they love your grit through the process, and if you are working towards a career goal, they love the hard work that you implement to achieve it. They also love how you’re always spicing the excitement up in your relationship! I keep hearing that you are always wanting to travel with them! Whenever you and your future spouse aren’t busy, I keep hearing you say things like “hey babe! let’s go here! let’s go there!” And they’re like “really babe?!?! I just got off work!” But they say yes anyway because they love having adventure with you. They love your enthusiasm and ambition to have fun and that there is just so much excitement and sparks between the two of you. I am also getting the feeling that your future spouse loves to take you on trips often because they’d like for you to have a peaceful mind. I believe that you may go through difficult situations, and maybe this pertains to your family or friendship life. They can see through your difficulties, and they just want to see your smile all the time, so they take you on vacations for your happiness in return. Your future spouse loves all the “imperfections” about you as well. Maybe you’re someone who is always trying so hard to look “perfect” and thinks they can always do better, but in reality, your future spouse doesn’t think so. They’re already so in love with your looks, and they already think you’re so perfect! You may also have a younger look on your face, and they find that to be very attractive too. They also love your glass-like skin and love to caress their fingers on your body. 😘

What you love about your future spouse ♡ -

(Tarot cards: The Emperor, The Sun, & 4 of Cups) • (3 oracle cards)

You love that your future spouse takes the lead in your relationship. They give off more masculine energy as well, and you find this super attractive. I’m getting a vibe that you might even find it kind of sexy when they take control and lead your relationship. They might have qualities of a parental figure. Maybe you didn’t have a great parental figure in your life, so being with someone like your future spouse makes you appreciate them more. It sounds weird but it really isn’t. The gist of it is that they heal your inner child, and you find this romantic of them, yet you find it so sexy as well. You also love it how they take care of you very good. They provide food, a home, clothing, accessories, and other necessities in your life. They may not be the type to be all lovey-dovey, but they will show you how much they love you. I can see that when both of you are walking together, they always make sure that you walk on the sidewalk instead of them. I can also see that whenever you feel cold, they put a blanket over you or their jacket on you to keep you warm. You love the protection that they give you. You also love looking up to them for guidance. When you need a push to keep going with your goals, they are the person to direct you back on track, and you love this about them. You love how inspirational they can be. You also love it when they take you out to places and go traveling out. You love that they love going out on adventures with you, as well as just spending alone time with them in a place that feels like paradise.

You love the way your future spouse brings you so much positivity in your life. Whenever you feel down, they are the light in your life that makes you smile again. Whenever you talk to them, you are able to laugh with joy again. Whenever you look at them, you feel warmth again. I get a sense that you also enjoy seeing them interact with other people or animals. When you see them interacting with other people and animals, it’s like their positivity radiates off to them as well. You love it how not only you find your future spouse to be so lovable and positive, but so do many other people and even animals! You are also very impressed with how successful they are in their work field, and I get the feeling that they have done this by having excellent leadership skills. Of course, you already admire that they are a great leader in your relationship, but you also admire that they are such a great leader with others! They are so powerful, strong, sexy, and kindhearted. You also love it when they are the center of attention sometimes. It’s like, you know that your future spouse is hot, and when people drool over them, you take it as a compliment because everyone wants them, but they are only yours. You also find it very sexy when they pretend to be aloof. When they act emotionally distant from you, it makes you attracted to them even more. I’m getting Edward and Bella vibes here lol. When they turn away from you, it just makes you want to throw yourself more on them haha. I don’t know why! But it’s kind of kinky of you to be honest lol! 😝

Pile 4

What your future spouse loves about you ♡ -

(Tarot cards: The World, Knight of Cups, & 10 of Wands) • (3 oracle cards)

Your future spouse loves that you are quite the full package for them. You are everything they have been looking for in a partner. They love that you are kind, smart, wholesome, funny, mature, intelligent, and physically attractive all in one. They love that you have achieved so much in your life. You are very successful, and I do feel that they are inspired by your completion in life to reach their own goals. They also love that you have been through a lot in your life. It’s kind of like they admire you for acquiring so much knowledge. For example, you might have traveled a lot around the world, and it resulted you in learning about different cultures, and they are so amazed by this, or you might be very well-educated, and they are astonished by your brightness. You are grateful for everything that is around you and everything that you have done to accomplish your goals. You are not conceited, but you are content and proud with yourself. They love your gratitude very much. You might have grown up in an extremely different environment from them, or your cultural backgrounds are completely different, and every day that the both of you are together, you always teach them new things about life. They love that they can learn new things from you. I can also see that when they are having a conversation with you, sometimes you like to fill in their sentences and they’re like “??!! How did you know?!” And it’s because you are telepathic and know what your future spouse is thinking or will say. They find this cute and funny about you, but they also really love that you know them so well. They also love that you make them feel whole. You are the missing piece in their life that they have needed all along. I keep seeing a scenario between the both of you cuddling, and your future spouse holds and tells you “you make me feel so complete. without you, i don’t know where i’d be at. i love you so much.” There’s just so much intimacy between the two of you, and they just love everything about you and what you’ve done to make them happy. 🥺

Your future spouse absolutely loves your romance! I feel like you are very affectionate with them, and they really adore this part of you. You may be the type to give them diy (do it yourself) gifts, expensive gifts, set up surprise dates, kiss and hold them, and all the rest of the lovey-dovey things. They also love it when you hold them in bed and when you’re the big spoon haha. They love to be showered with your love and affection, and they appreciate all your efforts to be so wonderfully romantic. They also appreciate you for always making it clear that you love them. They never question if you love them or not. You may also be very affectionate with children, and they love seeing you interact with them because you are very warm-hearted when it comes to younger children. They love how you are emotionally supportive of them as well. I can see that sometimes when your future spouse is upset, you are there to support them. Sometimes, they may even want to be left alone when they are upset, and you will always respect their decision. They don’t do this because you make them angry, they do this because it is just a natural way that they cope with stressful situations. You might be the type to overwork yourself in order to look good or care too much about other people’s opinions, and your future spouse notices this about you, but they already feel like you are good enough. They appreciate your efforts to look nice, but at the same time, they feel like you don’t even need to put the effort in. They already find you very attractive.

What you love about your future spouse ♡ -

(Tarot cards: Queen of Pentacles, The Star, & Death) • (3 oracle cards)

You love that your future spouse is so nurturing and down-to-earth. They are quite literally all you want as a partner and as the father or mother of your children! I can see that they do a lot of house chores like washing and folding the laundry, doing the dishes, mopping the floors, and cooking and cleaning around the house. Not only do they help with housework, but they also provide a lot of money in your relationship. They do housework, and at the same time help pay off bills and provide necessities for you and your family. You also love that they are very loving and open towards you. You yourself are really in tuned with your emotions, and your future spouse compliments this by returning their love and having heart to heart conversations with you. You love the stability and security they give as well. You know well in your heart that they love and care for you so much, and they wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You feel very confident that they are your person and that you will always be in each other’s hearts. You love that they are quite a bit of everything. They do chores, work, pay bills, and show you love in every way all in one. I can see that on some days when you come home from work, they will give you a nice feet or back massage, and the both of you will talk in-depth about how your days went together. You will also have a lot of cozy nights where you are both cuddled up on the couch and spend time watching your favorite movies or shows. You love that they are everything to you, and you could not ask for more. Their love for you and your love for them is just unstoppable.

You love that your future spouse gives you hope in all aspects of your life. On your lowest days, they are the one who gives you hope for the future again. I can see that on days when you feel unmotivated to get out of bed, they will talk to you about why you should get up and remind you of all the good things that can happen in your day. They are also the type to feed you breakfast in bed to start your day off as amazing! They are your light in the darkness, and you appreciate this about them because they are quite literally the only person that can pull you out of despair at times. They are also a dream come true to you. All the wishes that you have made to find someone like them has finally become reality, and each time you look at them, you fall in love more. They are your wish fulfillment, and they always remind you that dreams do come true. ❤️ You also love that your future spouse is someone in the spotlight. I believe that they might be someone well-known in their field of work, and you admire that they have so much recognition! They are very successful, and they persuade you to be the best successful version of yourself as well. You also find your future spouse to be quite sexy. They might have darker features that draw you in, and their height is also very attractive to you. I am also getting that they may have gone through a physical transformation in their appearance. Maybe, since the day that both of you met, they are always looking better and better from there on, and you love this about them. I can see that sometimes you think to yourself “damn! how can they get even better?! they’re already so sexy.” Haha. 😘

#tarot reading #love reading #future spouse reading #relationship reading #free tarot reading #oracle reading #pick a card #pick a pile #love pac #pac #tarotcommunity #daily tarot #tarotblr #tarot #oracle #fs reading <3 #pac <3

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bellestarot · 3 months

Text

Pick a card

Their romantic fantasies about you 💜

♡ Take your time to choose.

︵‿︵‿︵ʚĭɞ‿︵‿︵‿

Pile I

This person fantasizes about being your Prince Charming. They imagine you with a broken heart, disillusioned with love, and them appearing out of nowhere to heal you and make you fall in love with them. They envision coming to you with an offer, giving you a gift, yet not knowing how to talk to you. This person creates dialogues in their head about how they should converse with you because they feel you have everything.

This person feels that even though you don’t have a relationship, they can see a bit of themselves in you. They think that both of you are individuals looking to write your own story alone on a journey of self-discovery, and it simply makes sense to them that you two would be together. They fantasize about showing you who they are. This person loves traveling, exploring new places, and has a deep connection with nature and other cultures. They dream of taking you to these places, traveling the world together, and leaving behind everything that hurt you.

This person is actively manifesting and wishing to be with you, hoping to make their fantasies come true. They believe that being with you would make everything else seem insignificant because they would have already achieved the most difficult thing. They have a strong desire to hug you. They think you must be a very adorable person and believe you look beautiful in dresses or more delicate, pastel-colored clothes. This person fantasizes about having a relationship with you one day, and who knows, maybe even getting married and having a house with a family.

Pile II

This person has many sexual fantasies about you. I think these fantasies are so impure that if you knew, you would be shocked at how much they imagine the two of you doing together.

They find you very beautiful. They also think your hair is incredibly beautiful. Perhaps some of you have blonde hair or it is dyed.

This person fantasies the two of you on the beach at night, talking and exchanging caresses. They watch you from afar, you know? Maybe on your social media, or maybe they know you in person.

They always find a way to check how you are doing.

This person is a bit uncertain, you know? I think there is a great degree of immaturity in them. While they want to be with you, treat you well, plan a family, plan a future, and win you over with words, kisses, and touches, they also want to break your heart. They want to make you suffer for them, for love, for this person.

They have this fantasy of making you happy, but at the same time, there is another side of this individual that wants to break your heart, want to make you chase after them. It’s a bit confusing how this person thinks.

Pile III

You and this person might be at a distance from each other, maybe you know each other through the internet, or perhaps you’ve drifted apart for other reasons. This person fantasizes about seeing you. They believe that in their fantasy, you would wait for them and reciprocate their feelings. This person thinks you are incredibly attractive and fantasizes about admiring you as a individual.

They really want you to meet in person soon, and this is their main fantasy. They wish they could touch you.

They want to have more intimacy with you and fantasize a lot about you having intimate moments together. They have sexual fantasies as well.

If you are a woman, they fantasizes about you being a mother, also they have this fantasy of you being married to them one day. This person fantasizes about having you in every way.

They think you are incredibly beautiful and attractive, your hair is very beautiful, the clothes you wear are very nice, but they also fantasize about you without clothes. Maybe they even dream about you.

#Spotify #tarot reading #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #free tarot #love tarot free #love tarot reading #soulmates tarot

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ivymarquis · 1 year

Note

I would go nuts if you do something for Ghost! Make it filthy ? based on your f list , how about a combo of : chubby with size difference, breath play, breeding, light bondage, orgasm control and heavy aftercare? Or make it light , how about a combo of : chubby with size difference, oral , begging, slow burn, multiple orgasms and ofc heavy aftercare?

I really hope I didn’t go too far with this lmao

Hit all the notes except the slow burn, dealer’s choice on if this is a “no pregnancy, only breed” situation for kink purposes, or if Simon fully intends on following through with getting the reader pregnant 😇

Spoiled

Pairing| Ghost x F!Reader Rating| M Word Count| 3.5k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Breeding kink, orgasm control, breath play, squirting, overstimulation, acknowledgement of (but no use of) safewords, size difference, bondage, oral (f!receiving) possessive/simp!Simon, plus size!Reader, multiple orgasms, Simon is a touch mean at times but it’s all above board, and aftercare (or at least the plans of what the aftercare will be lol). I think that covers everything!

You’re wearing his favorite dress and Ghost is ready to climb out of his own skin.

Any other situation would have him pinning you on your back, the skirt of your dress pulled up while he pounds you into the nearest surface he can lay you out across.

However you work underneath Laswell which means he gets to watch the hem of your skirt dance across the skin of your thighs during a meeting he is rapidly losing all interest in.

He’s also not the only one looking which raises his hackles. The rest of the 141 are minding their business, eyes on Laswell up front. They know who you belong to, and have the self control to not slobber all over themselves like rabid dogs at the sight of a pretty girl.

It’s the other men in the room.

He can’t blame them; You’re bright eyed and sweet, pretty face with a plush body that Ghost loves tying up in whatever position he can think to put you in. And the fucking dress doesn’t help.

It is work appropriate. There’s a part of him that is willing to acknowledge that. It just flatters you perfectly. And the hem bounces enough to give a mouth watering peek at the insides of your thighs when you’re walking away from him.

Whether you’re oblivious to the eyes on you or you simply don’t care enough to acknowledge them, every time Ghost’s gaze settles on you your attention is fixated on him when not pointed at Laswell.

He’s suddenly seized by the thought that the ring on your finger clearly isn’t enough of a deterrent for unwanted gazes. You’re baiting him, heedless of the others drawn to you.

Sure she’s married but is she satisfied? He knows damn good and well some of the men- some of the specific ones in this room- are dogs. He can hear the question as they pace and look for a weak spot to dig under the proverbial fence.

He needs to make sure everyone knows you’re his. Clearly it’s not enough to show you’re taken.

His mind wanders, thoughts of filling you with him until you’re swollen with child. The evidence readily apparent to everyone that you’re kept satisfied by your husband.

The only thing that keeps his mind from spiraling completely is a well timed prompt from Price, forcing Ghost out of his head and back to the meeting he wants over and done with already.

Once home, Simon is able to drop the mantle of Ghost- at least for the time being- and turn his attention to you.

It really is his favorite dress on you, but it looks substantially better on the floor.

He’s got you laid across your bed, hands cuffed short to the headboard.

You always were handsy in bed. Wanting to pet and stroke and touch- it’s cute how you squirm for him once he deprives you.

“Si- Simon!” His name is a plea as his tongue goes to work between your legs.

He should be used to the sight and sounds that accompany having you bare before him. God knows the two of you have been together long enough for that- and yet every time he gets you to drop your panties his blood sings in his veins like the first time.

He’s fucking enthralled with you. Your smile, your laugh, how quick you are with a witty retort- always the smart ass until he reminds you there’s a better use for that pretty mouth. How easy it was to manhandle you in bed (how you fucking love it).

He adores how soft you are. Lush thighs spread over either shoulder as he goes down on you like a man who’s been stranded in the desert. One hand digging into the flesh of your hip, the other banded across your belly to keep you still as you buck in his hold.

He’s being a mean bastard, he knows. The pair of you have your little arrangement.

“Simon- please!” Your body strains against the cuffs uselessly. If your hands were free you’d be scrambling for purchase where you could find it- burying in his hair, fisting the sheets beneath you. Flicking his gaze up to your bound hands, he grins seeing how your fingers open and close in fists- needing to hold and touch and not being able to.

“Gotta wait for me, love,” he reminds you.

Simon controls your orgasms. Where you cum, when you cum, how you cum and most importantly if you cum.

Usually he’s magnanimous about it. Arguably he still is. If he really wanted to be an asshole about it, he’d be stuffing you with two of his fingers- the width of three of your own- and stroking that spot that had your body burning, eyes rolling into the back of your head while you cried and made a mess for him. Forcing you to fight yourself, to show a little impulse control, reveling in how you squeal and buck against him in protest.

Those soft thighs are trembling like leaves atop either one of his shoulders, splayed open enticingly.

“Pleasepleaseplease.”

He struggles to pull himself away, reveling in how tightly you’re wound. Simon could easily spend hours between your legs.

When initially cuffing you to the bed, his plan was to not let you finish until after he’d cum in you. Wanted to be mean about it, could hear you crying for him to finish you off. No point in getting you off, love, until I’ve filled that pretty little cunt to the brim. Whole lot of effort for nothing if I do it before, isn’t that right?

Simon spoils you rotten though and only has himself to blame for it at this point. Any time he manages to get you laid out before him it is a guarantee he’ll finish you off at least twice.

Hell it’s practically a necessity, the only thing stopping him from proceeding with his initial plan. Your body would choke down on him, usually needing to be fucked open with his mouth and fingers before being able to take the length of him without protest.

You’re squirming again. The break from his tongue lashing against your clit allows you to regain some composure but still twitching in anticipation.

Not that your respite lasts for long. Simon trails one of his fingers across the seam of your lower lips, watching how your legs jerk on impulse as his touch ghosts across your swollen clit.

“So sensitive,” he teases as you let out a plaintive whine at the contact.

His middle finger slips past your folds, sliding easily all the way to the 3rd knuckle. Giving a few slow thrusts, his ring finger soon joins.

The room is quiet except for the sound of your breaths and how absolutely wet you are. It’s filthy how his fingers squelch inside your cunt. Your moans pick up as he deliberately drags the pads of his fingers across that spongy spot inside of you.

Your brain seems to only be able to remember two words- “Simon” and “please”, chanting them as he works you closer to the edge.

“Be a good girl for me,” he answers cryptically, biting back a laugh at the tortured look on your face. Be a good girl and cum? Or be a good girl and don’t cum?

The hand not buried in your cunt trails up your body- amusement flickering across his face as you jolt from ticklish spots, his hand roaming up your belly, between your breasts and taking its place wrapped around your throat.

Your brain remembers three more words, the alternating chants broken by your accusatory “You’re being mean,”

He is. He’s done worse to you for sure, but he knows the accusation is also another plea. I don’t know how much longer I can hold back please let me cum and call me a good girl- I want to be good.

“You ever consider you’re a spoiled little princess?” He muses to you, lips hovering over your own as he awaits the smart assed retort he just knows-

“It’s your fault I’m like this,” there it is. He grins, giving a chaste peck that is wildly juxtaposed to the sinful things he’s doing to you.

The hand wrapped around your throat tightens. Not enough to damage your delicate wind pipe but enough to put the pressure on the blood vessels in your neck. He adjusts his other hand ever so slightly so his thumb can press against your clit, circling in firm movements in time as his ring and middle fingers work that one spot inside of you.

He gets the desired result- you clenching on his fingers, bucking and squirming uselessly.

“Sorry, what was that?” He asks with a falsely sweet tone, grinning as you hiss.

All the pressure from his hand is placed on the sides of your neck, your pleas and protests turning into mindless babbling.

Simon isn’t entirely without mercy, he just enjoys pushing you as close to the brink as he can.

“Come on then, love- cum for me.” He finally allows, watching with rapt attention as your eyes damn near cross.

His wrist and forearm are wet as you gush around his hand, grinning as your mess is timed with each thrust of his fingers. He doesn’t withdraw until he’s certain he’s wrung every last drop from you, although you’re not left unattended for long.

His grip on your neck lets up, doubly to let you recover from your orgasm as you gasp like a stranded fish as much as it is to have both hands free to position you how he wants.

Mindful that there’s not much slack to pull you down with, Simon holds you steady while he moves to place himself between your legs.

Your flesh is hot, swollen and needy as he lines himself up, one hand on your hip and the other grasping his length. Pliant as you are from your orgasm, it still takes a few thrusts to work you open enough to take the full length of him.

Simon is more than willing to feed you inch by inch of his cock, relishing in the wet suction of your body as you cling and clench around him.

“That feel good, pretty?” He poses the question to you as his hips clap against yours once you’re warmed up and taking him all the way to the base.

“Yes! Simon- yes!”

And what a fucking sight you make. Laid on your back, arms stretching over your head towards the headboard. Those pretty, plush thighs spread wide to accommodate him, giving Simon quite the show- watching as he buries himself in you to the hilt over and over and over again.

He damn near wants to drool watching how your body bounces from the recoil of each snap of his hips. Makes his mouth water- makes him want to turn you into a fucking chew toy, the need to bury his teeth in your soft flesh. His eyes will flick from one part of you to the next, reveling in the soft bounce of your thighs, your belly, your breasts- he couldn’t pry his gaze away, enraptured with the doe eyed, fucked-dumb look on your face when his eyes drift up high enough.

“Whose cunt is this?”

The answer to the question is obvious, and one you know well. It’s not even really the actual question he has- more the lead up than anything else.

“Yours!” He shifts himself slightly, the change in angle working for you based on how you bark out “Oh! Right there!”

Simon grinned, knowing full well what he's doing as he moves to his original position. “You gonna prove it, love?”

Your head must be swimming from the delayed response- frustrated at him for deliberately ignoring your plea and changing the rhythm on purpose.

“Prove it?” Those glassy eyes focus on him, the words sounded out slowly by your cock drunk brain.

“Prove this cunt’s mine,” a sharp thrust elicits a yelp that’s just shy of, but nearing the border of too much. “Oughta fuck a baby into you. Show everyone you belong to me.”

The way you clench down on him draws a grunt deep from his chest, telling him just what you think of that idea.

“Everyone’ll know what a good fucking girl you are,” he’s working himself up, winding tighter and tighter as his mind runs away from him entirely. “Lifting your” he staggers as your clench is timed perfectly with his thrust “-fucking skirt for me,” a few more quick thrusts, “spreading those gorgeous thighs,” his hands are gripping your waist like a lifeline- “letting me have my way with you and not- wasting- a- fucking- drop.” his last words punctuated with strong snaps of his hips.

He’s babbling now, face buried in the crook of your neck as each thrust draws staccato cries from you. “Gonna look so fucking pretty- not gonna be able to take my damn hands off of you,” which was saying something given the current rate he was either bending you over or tying you up.

You clenching around him like a vice wasn’t helping matters either. “Simon please- I want it. Baby I want it. Please cum in me-“ and how was he ever going to ignore a request like that? With you asking so nicely while your cunt works its magic on his cock.

His body dwarfs yours, all broad shoulders and delicious muscling from years of training and physical work that comes with the job. You’re caged under him as he raises his head from your neck and his mouth crashes into yours.

“Mine,” he groans out between kisses. There’s going to be bruises across your body as his grip tightens on you- one hand still fisting the flesh of your hip, the other hooking underneath one of your knees and spreading that leg out to the side, fingers digging into the skin of your thigh as you both grunt at the change in angle.

The noises the two of you are making are absolutely obscene; the slap of his heavy balls against your ass, the wet sound of your cunt taking every last inch of him. Simon’s damn near on the verge of hyperventilating, keyed up as he is between you being as receptive as you’ve been to his dirty talk, reciprocating by pleading him to cum in you. How your thighs are trembling, muscles wound tight as you strain against your binds.

He prides himself on not being a selfish lover. Even as worked up as he is, the forefront thought in his mind chasing his own pleasure so he can be a good husband and fill you up like you’re pleading for so so prettily- there’s still that one part that keys into your reactions. Making sure you’re loving every stroke he gives as he chases his own high, that those yelps don’t take a turn for too much instead of please god don’t stop don’t stop don-

His vision whites out for a second as his orgasm hits him like a bus. The coil that had been twisting tighter and tighter springs free as he buries himself in you one last time with a groan befitting a wounded animal.

The urge to collapse settles on him, but Ghost pushes it aside. You’re tied to the bed, entirely unable to take the brunt of his weight like that and wouldn’t be able to wiggle out from under him with your hands bound.

He grounds himself as he comes down by peppering you in kisses, hands roaming your body. Your face, your neck- anywhere he can reach until he feels his legs are steady enough to comply with what he asks of them.

You’re still keyed up, having been worked close to a second orgasm but not quite getting to cross the threshold before Simon. He can hear you distantly, mewling and pleading for him to finish you off and has every intention of following through.

Moving back down between your legs, a shiver runs up his spine as his over sensitive cock drags across the sheets. Settling with his face between your legs he takes a moment to observe his handwork.

Your cunt’s pretty and swollen- sensitive to, from how you jerk when his breath fans against you. Making soothing motions on your hip with one hand as he shushes you, his eyes focus on the thin line of his spend dribbling out of you.

Well that simply won’t do.

He uses one finger to trace back up your folds, pushing his cum back exactly where it belongs before sliding two fingers into you once again.

It doesn’t escape his notice how much easier it is this time, your fucked open body still soft and pliant for him. He debates teasing you about it for a second but the look on your face has it clear you’re close to crying- tension and anticipation having tears welling up in your eyes.

Spoiled the thought flashes across his head. Course it doesn’t help that he’s utterly whipped. He’ll give you anything you ask for just because you want it.

His head drops, eyes on you while his tongue lashes as your clit and his fingers fuck his cum back into you.

You cry and strain and buck against his hold. Simon knows he won’t have to wait long to feel you clenching around his fingers- it never does when he uses his mouth and fingers at the same time.

But he does wonder how quick he can wring a third out of you once he pushes you over the second time.

He’ll find out shortly- you’re already babbling, knowing the routine and half afraid he’ll make you hold it please let me cum please-

“Go on, pet.” He doesn’t so much pry his face away as he just mouths into your flesh, but got the same result either way.

Your back arches as you clamp tight on his fingers- Simon doesn’t let that get in the way of his ministrations, continuing to mouth at your clit and stroke that spot in you until your cries of pleasure turn into okay okay okay oka-

He doesn’t stop. You try crawling away from him but he puts a stop to that by quickly banding his forearm across your abdomen.

You have a safeword- kettle- if it actually was too much, and unless he hears you say it he’s going to keep a hold of you like a dog being threatened with having his favorite toy taken from him.

You’re being fucking loud, no way the neighbors can’t hear you unless they’re simply not home, and Simon doesn’t give a singular shit as he works you from your second orgasm clear into your third.

His efforts are rewarded with another rush of your cum, soaking his face and dripping down his chin.

Good. He’s still fixated on the idea of you being fat with his child, and the way he sees it the more he gets you to cum the better his chances are of it taking.

Your efforts to squirm out of his grip only increase, futile as they are.

“One more,” he lifts his head to offer you. “Be a good girl and give me one more.”

Those tears that had welled earlier are falling now, and Simon thinks you look absolutely divine with tear tracks down your face, make up smeared to hell.

“Okay,” you nod with a shaky breath- hips still trembling but no longer trying to squirm away from him.

He descends on you once again, intending to make the most of your compliance. What a good little wife he has.

He’s got your fourth orgasm rushing over you in record time, relishing in the way you tense and relax as your body tries to fight the overstimulation before your mind would quiet it. His hand strokes your hip and thigh soothingly, mumbling praises into your skin the entire time.

True to his word, he pulls away once you’ve come down.

You’re watching him with glassy eyes, limbs trembling as you finally catch a reprieve from his mouth.

“I’ll untie you now, okay love?” He’s checking where you are mentally, if he pushed too far-

You nod to him, eyes following as he steps away from the bed to grab the keys off the nightstand.

Your wrists are released from the cuffs only to be encircled by Simon’s hands- so much bigger than your own- as he gently rubs them and checks for any marks. “You alright, love?”

The soft smile you flash him has him ready to melt. “I’m good,” he watches you stretch, the slight wince. “Shoulder’s a bit tight.”

“I’ll run us a bath and we’ll see what I can do about that hm? How about you think about what you want for take out?”

He starts to turn, tethered in place as you reach out for him.

“Don’t go yet.”

He lets you lead him back into bed with a light pull on his hand.

Absolutely spoiled rotten, and yet Simon will gladly give or do anything for you if only you ask for it.

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #my writing #simon riley #simon ghost riley

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