#how many years has this been waiting to be answered
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Buck volunteers for the Thanksgiving shift. When Maddie asks, he apologizes, saying, "I don't really feel festive right now. But keep some leftovers for me?"
On the day, firehouses around the country all have similar calls to deal with: kitchen grease fires from frying turkeys, sprains in backyard games of football, people injuring one another because "did you hear what she said about our Emma/Francis/Kailey?". Buck is kept too busy to think, and it's nice having the time to catch up with Ravi, who's thinking of going to school to study law.
Their brothers and sisters in uniform also drop off dishes at the station, so between calls, they get pretty good food. Captain Graham gives them an hour offline after four consecutive calls. Buck collapses into a chair and serves himself pasta salad and a delicious honey baked ham, while his dinner rolls warm up in the oven.
He's scrolling through his phone, diligently avoiding the messaging apps, when a message preview pops up.
Tommy.
Buck almost drops his fork. He scrambles away from the dinner table, even though no one on C shift will try to take his phone from him, and finds a spot in the stairwell to read it.
Tommy: hope you have a good & safe Thanksgiving
As he's reading, another bubble appears and Buck's heart skips several beats, but this time it doesn't disappear. A second message arrives, followed by a third.
Tommy: don't know why I texted that
Tommy: guess I just wanted to say something to you
Tommy: you don't have to reply
Tommy: anyway. Happy holidays
Buck feels a slight loosening of the vice around his heart that has been there since that night. With a smile on his face, he types, deletes, types again.
Buck: happy Thanksgiving to you too
Buck: how many kitchen grease fires you got this year? We had 3
Tommy: you're working today?
Tommy: 4, but one of it was in the backyard
They're having a conversation. They're having an actual casual conversation, as easy as they used to on calmer shifts. Buck wants to cry. But he has to answer Tommy's question or have this conversation end too soon. Thinking about his options, he decides that he has nothing to lose anyway.
Buck: I didn't wanna sit around and smile and pretend I'm thankful for everything
Buck: it's better to keep busy
Tommy: I know that feeling
Tommy: I'm sorry
Buck: I'm sorry too
Buck: I wish we could've celebrated together
Buck: I would've said that I'm thankful for you
Tommy: I would have said that too
Tommy: I'm still thankful for you jsyk. I'll always be grateful to have got to know you
Does Tommy think he can't stay in Buck's life just because they broke up?
Buck: I don't think you know me well enough
Tommy: sorry
Buck wishes he'd run after Tommy that night, or done something since to show that he wants Tommy. Well, here's your chance, his brain reminds him. Do something.
He takes a deep breath. Then he types.
Buck: I want to meet. If I come over after Thanksgiving shift, will you please be home?
Tommy: is that a good idea
Buck: idk. But I can't stop thinking about you, and I miss you, and I wanna know what I did wrong. I wanna meet.
Tommy: I miss you too. You didn't do anything wrong, I just didn't want to... Idk. I didn't want to get my hopes up too much.
Buck: we need to talk in person. Texting is not good enough.
It isn't. He needs to see Tommy again. Tommy with his storm blue eyes and tender smile and broad shoulders and soft clothes. Tommy whose crinkly smile drives Buck a little (a lot) insane. Tommy whose lips he now knows the shape of by touch alone, whose body he has mapped out in detail, who knows how it feels to be inside Buck in the most intimate of ways.
He waits for a response. Hopes there will be one. It comes several minutes after, like Tommy had to really think about it.
Tommy: maybe not immediately after Thanksgiving shift
Tommy: are you off on Monday
The relief that crashes into Buck feels almost as overwhelming as the tsunami he was caught in years ago.
Buck: yes
Buck: your place this time
Buck: I'll bring cake
Tommy: you don't have to bribe me to open the door
Buck: no I just baked too much stuff is all. I'll explain when we meet
Buck: I'm really thankful you texted
Tommy: I'm thankful you replied
Tommy: have a good rest of the shift, Evan
It's Evan again. Buck can't hide his smile at all. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he goes back to dinner. Monday can't be here fast enough.
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Food, Football, and Friends - Eddie Munson x Reader
An As You Wish story
Summary: With so many people coming over for Thanksgiving dinner, it's no surprise things get a little chaotic.
Note: Happy Thanksgiving!
Warnings: chaos that is typical of this family, Eddie's breeding kink doesn't take a holiday off, Dustin is married to someone that is not Suzy sorry
Words: 3.7k
[As You Wish masterlist]
Not bothering to knock, Steve opens the front door to the Munson household and pops his head inside.
âThis looks like a nice house,â he says as he pushes the door all the way open. âMight be able to steal something nice.â
A huff comes from behind him and Mia pushes in the house past her father. The six-year-old scowls as she leans down to unbuckle her shiny Mary Janes.
âWeâre not thieves!â Her voice carries throughout the house, summoning the little person who has been waiting all day to see her.
âMiaaaaaa!â Elizaâs heavy tread thumps down the hallway as she runs into the living room at full speed. The friction of her white tights against the carpet halts her when she reaches her destination.Â
Before Mia can answer, Steve crouches down in front of the youngest Munson. He frowns and tilts his head, a few chestnut locks falling in his eyes.
âWhat about me? Am I chop liver?âÂ
Your toddler giggles and leaps into her uncleâs arms. She wraps her arms around his neck for a hug, but before she can pull away, Steve stands up, hoisting her over his shoulder in an attempt to keep her from her best friend.
âNoooo!â Eliza whines, her little legs kicking.Â
âOh, fine,â Steve sighs as he lets her down.
Eliza straightens her black and white dress before looking up to see Wayne walk in the door right behind Nancy.
âGrandpa!â
âThereâs my girl!â
Wayne scoops her up and peppers kisses all over her face. The small girl giggles and tries to push his face away, his scruff tickling her.
âWhereâs Daddy?â Wayne asks.
âDunno,â Eliza answers with a shrug.
âHeâs outside,â Luke says as he strolls into the room.
Nancy canât help but notice how her youngestâs face lights up when the twelve-year-old Munson walks into the room. She clamps her lips together, trying not to giggle at Miaâs adorable crush on Luke, acting like she doesnât notice the hearts in the young redheadâs eyes.
âShould we lock him out?â Steve asks about your husband.
Wayne sighs. âEh, heâs scrappy, heâll find a way back in,â he says as he sets Eliza back down.Â
The moment her feet hit the ground, the toddler runs over to Mia and throws her arms around the girlâs sparkly silver dress. Concentration on Luke broken, Mia laughs and falls to the ground with Eliza, giving her a hug in return.Â
âYeah,â Steve says as he watches the girls. âI think the little munchkin would let him in.â He nods towards Eliza.
âShe canât reach the door,â Danny points out to his dad.
âEliza finds a way to do anything,â Luke says, his tone conveying all the experience heâs had in that regard.
Before anyone else can add to the conversation, the sound of clinking and clanging pots and pans rings out from the kitchen. Automatically, everyone's heads turn in that direction.Â
âShit!â Your voice echoes out into the living room.
Immediately, Nancy brushes past her husband, patting him on the chest as she goes by.
âPlay nice,â she tells him as she continues into the kitchen. The sight before Nancy has her biting her lip to keep in a grin for the second time in a matter of minutes. There you stand, holding a pot lid in one hand, holding the top of your head in the other. Your friend cocks an eyebrow at you. âEverything okay in here?â
Lamely, you raise the pot lid and give her a small wave with it.
âGave myself a concussion looking for this so the mashed potatoes better taste damn near perfect.â
âIâm sure they will,â Nancy assures you, coming closer to take the lid out of your hand. She gently sets it on the pot simmering on the stove and turns back to you. âAnything I can do to help?â
Steveâs voice booms out from the living room before you can respond.
âYouâre on, Munson!â
Eyes rolling skyward, you heave a sigh and shake your head.
âKeep our husbands from injuring themselves before dinner?â you ask.
âIâm afraid not.â Nancy winces. Itâs an impossible task, you both know that.
As you open the refrigerator to grab the milk, Luke runs into the roomânever one for just walkingâwith a grin on his face.Â
âWeâre going to play football!â he announces.
You raise an eyebrow as you measure out the cup of milk to add to the mashed potatoes.
âWho exactly is âwe?â you ask.
âMe, Ryan, Theo, Danny, Uncle Steve, Grandpa, DaddyâŠand uh, maybe Natalie.â
The mention of your husband has you turning to give your son your full attention, letting the measuring glass of milk clank down on the counter.
âYour father is going to play football?â
âHeâs gonna try,â Luke says with a mischievous snicker. You completely agree with your sports-loving sonâs disbelieving and amused tone. Youâre not even sure Eddie knows what the different positions in football are called.
âIs that what he and Steve were bickering about?â Nancy crosses her arms over her chest and rests her hip against the edge of the kitchen table.
âYeah,â he affirms. âMia is gonna stay in the living room with Liza.â
âLuke, come on!â Theo calls out.
âMy daughter is a little mother hen,â Nancy says with a smile as Luke runs out to join his new team. Mia may be the youngest sibling in her family, but that means she takes the responsibility of having a toddler best friend very seriously.Â
Noise clatters from your backyard and you take a few steps to look out the large window over the kitchen sink. Through it, you can see Steve and Eddie standing next to each other, pointing at the mass of children that are in front of themâall of them except Ryan and Natalie.
âCome on, it will be fun,â Ryan says from the next room just as youâre wondering about him.
The unmistakable sigh of a teenage girl is heard before Natalie agrees, âFine.â
Their footsteps fade out the door and Nancy raises her brow at you.
âIâm impressed,â she says. âNo one can get Natalie to do anything anymore.â
âHormones?â you ask, turning back to the stove as some boiled water sloshes over the side of a pot. The steam hisses and floats off into the air.
âOh, yeah. Having a teenage daughter is great.â
âOof, I do not miss being a teenager,â you say.
âWhat, you stopped, like, last year?âÂ
You spin around to see Nancy smirking at you, and you whip your kitchen towel at her in an attempt to wipe the shit eating grin off her face. She laughs and swats the rag away, affectionately wrapping an arm around your waist as she comes to stand beside you.
âCome on, now let me help you,â she chides.
âFine,â you relent. âWant to chop those carrots?â
âNo problem.â
Loud footfalls stampede towards the kitchen, but theyâre not quite as heavy as Elizaâs usually are, so youâre not surprised when Mia comes racing into the kitchen. One of these times these running children are going to hurt themselves.
âAuntieeee?â she asks you as she comes to a stop.
âMiaaaaaa?â
âEliza is hungry,â she tells you. âCan I get her a snack?â
âSure thing, cutie.â You wipe your hands off on the towel and walk over to the pantry. The Cheerio box is right at eyelevel as you reach for it and hand it to Mia. âJust make sure she doesnât eat too many, okay?â
âOkay!â she calls over her shoulder as she runs out with the box.
Just as youâre about to reach for a knife, the doorbell rings. You head out to the living room, smiling when you see Eliza and Mia sitting in front of the television, sharing Cheerios and watching the rerun of the Thanksgiving Day Parade. The big Snoopy balloon passes by as you grab the doorknob. There stand Lucas and Max with their daughter Tiffany, and Dustin with his wife Anne and their baby girl, Molly. The moment she sees you, Tiffany launches herself forward with a squeal. She wraps her arms around your hips and hugs herself against your body.
âWell, hello there,â you greet her. To allow everyone else into the house, you pick up the six-year-old and take a few steps back from the door. âYou wanna join Eliza and Mia?â When she nods, you let Tiffany down to go join the other girls.
The moment your arms are free, youâre being pulled into more hugs with everyone and wishes for a happy Thanksgiving. Last but not least, you pluck Molly from her motherâs arms and give her a big kiss on the cheek.
âI canât believe how big she is!â you coo. Now well over a year old, the last time you saw the youngest Henderson was when she was nine months.Â
Dustin grabs her walker from the car, since sheâs still new to the whole walking thing and not the steadiest. He sets it down in the living room and you plop her down in the Minnie Mouse themed rover. She instantly takes off in the direction of the television, as if knowing she wants to be a part of this little girl gang.
âEliza?â you call. âDo you want to come say hi?â
It takes her a second, but finally, Eliza finishes the Cheerio thatâs in her hand and pushes herself up on to her feet. She toddles over, smiling when she sees her Aunt Maxâwho is arguably her favorite person who is not a Munson or Harrington. Her aunt gives her a big hug. Then, Eliza stops in front of Dustin. Saying nothing, she just stares up at him, her big brown eyes blinking a few times.
âHi, Eliza!â When your daughter doesnât answer, Dustin kneels down to be at her level. âRemember me? Uncle Dustin?â
She just keeps staring.
Lucas laughs at the little girlâs nonreaction and snatches her up into his own arms. âMwah!â he presses a kiss to her cheek. Instantly, Eliza grins and wraps her arms around his neck for a hug.
Dustin pouts up at the scene before him, lower lip jutting out dramatically as he stands back up.
âHey! Iâm the cool uncle!â he protests. And itâs true; if the other kids were in the house right now, theyâd all be climbing over Dustin until the poor man gets lost in a sea of children.
âGuess not anymore,â Lucas says with a shrug.
âItâs gotta be because I live further away,â Dustin argues. âShe sees me less.â
âSure,â Lucas says, his tone far from sincere.
Max rolls her eyes at the two menâs bickering, presumably tired of it after hearing it for almost a decade and a half. The redhead takes Eliza from her husbandâs arms and turns to face Dustinâs wife.
âThese stilly boys,â Max says to Eliza. âSay hi to your Aunt Anne?â
Your daughter gives a small wave, but itâs clear from the blank look on her face that she just wants to be put down to go back to Mia. Sensing this as well, Max grants her wish.
âWhereâs Ed?â Dustin asks.
âIn the backyard,â you say. âPlaying football.â
âFootball?â Dustin almost chokes on his own spit out of shock.
âI know,â you say.
âI have to see this,â Lucas says, looking towards the back door and rubbing his hands together in anticipation.Â
He and Dustin go to join the game in the backyard while Max and Anne follow you into the kitchen. Nancy greets the new arrivals while you take up your previous position at the stove. As you lift the lid off the pot on the back burner, you listen to the women behind you talking and laughing. It brings a smile to your face to be surrounded by women friends. Besides a two-year-old, the only others in the house are guys. And as much as you love them, itâs not the same as having other ladies around.
Two sets of running feet zoom past the kitchen and the sound of the squeaky hinges on the backdoor let you know the two six-year-olds have gone to join the fun outside. You peek back out the window and chuckle to yourself when you see Mia and Tiffany cheering on the sidelines. Unsurprisingly, they seem to be cheering for the team that Luke is on. Miaâs idea, no doubt.
There are only a few more potatoes to add to the pot in front of you, so once those are in you go out into the living room to check on the younger girls. A gasp strangles out of you when you first see the two. Then as your brain has a moment to adjust and see that everything is okay, you break out into laughter.
âWhat did you do, little girl?â you ask your daughter. You shake your head in amusement as you walk over to the two of them, both covered in Cheerios that are also scattered around the living room floor.
Eliza grins up at you, small pieces of Cheerios still sticking to her baby teeth.
âMolly hungry!â she tells you.
âOh, okay,â you say with a nod. âSo, you thought to give her a snack like Mia did for you?â
âMhmm!â She sounds quite proud of herself, and it makes your heart melt.
âWell, that was very thoughtful of you.â
Laughter erupts from behind you, and you look over your shoulder to see Max walking into the room. She takes in the mess before her and looks between the two babies.
âWhatâre you troublemakers doing?â she asks as she comes up beside you.Â
A timer in the kitchen drags your attention away from the conversation and Max waves you on in that direction.
âGo ahead, take care of that. Iâll clean this up, then take these two outside. They can be the referees.â
âThank you.â You give Maxâs shoulder an appreciative squeeze as you walk past her.
Back in the kitchen, you turn off the timer and pull the green bean casserole out of the oven.Â
Cheers ring in from the backyard, bringing a smile to your face. Anne steps up to look out the window at everyone.
âI think Iâm going to go make sure no one is doing anything stupid,â she says.
âNurse is never off duty, huh?â Nancy asks with a smile.
When Anne steps out of the room, you turn to Nancy and raise an eyebrow.Â
âShe wants to make sure no one is doing anything stupid?â you ask. âShe clearly doesnât know that is most of what our husbands do.â
Nancy laughs and nods her head in agreement.
âWe should keep her here as an on-call nurse.â
âSheâd be busier here than in the ER,â you joke.Â
You and Nancy work silently side by side for a little while, before Nancy notices you starting to buzz around the kitchen more, a hectic mood settling over you. She licks over her lips before looking in your direction.
âIs something burning?â she asks.
âWhat?â
You whip your head around to stare at her before looking at the stove.Â
âSmell it?â she asks, grabbing a paper towel to wipe her hands off on.
You take a few deep inhales, and a frown pinches your face.
âNo,â you admit.
âThatâs because thereâs nothing burning,â Nancy says, taking a few steps closer to you. She rests her hands on your shoulders and looks you in the eye. âBut it got you to take some deep breaths. Take a few more, okay?â
Catching on to her scheme, you narrow your eyes at her as you do indeed take a few more deep breaths.
âYouâre sneaky,â you tell her.
âI have to be with four kids,â she replies.Â
Itâs not long before the game outside comes to an end and people start coming back into the house in waves. Eddie finally comes in and your heart stutters in your chest when you see him. His face is flushed from the exertion, his breathing a little labored for the same reason. His hair is frizzier than usual and when he comes closer to you, you can feel the chill coming off of him. Itâs only confirmed when you put your hands on his cheeks and feel how cool they are to the touch. His smile makes you dizzy, not even registering how cold his lips are against yours when he leans in for a kiss.
âEverything smells good,â he mumbles against your mouth.
âDid you win?â you ask, reluctantly going to check on the turkey.
His sigh tells you the answer before his words do.
âI donât wanna talk about it,â he grumbles.
Both you and Nancy share a chuckle as he sulks out of the room. Ryan pops in right after, going over to the sink to wash his hands. His face is flushed like his fatherâs, but his hair is faring far better. Wayne, Theo, and Danny come in behind your son and Wayne goes into the fridge to grab water bottles for all the boys.
âCan I help?â Ryan asks you as he dries his hands.
âOf course, sweetheart.â You press a kiss to his head as you slip by him to grab the salt. âDo you want to get started on the stuffing?â
âSure.â
Danny wrinkles up his nose as he takes a sip of his water.
âCooking is for girls,â the eight-year-old declares.
âDanny!â Nancy immediately snaps.Â
âHey,â Wayne says, nudging the boy on the shoulder. âI was a cook in the army. That donât sound girly, does it?â
Danny shakes his head, looking cowed.
âNo,â he says softly.
âWhat do you say?â Nancy asks.
âIâm sorry.â
Ryan ruffles the boyâs hair before pretending to spill the bowl of breadcrumbs heâs carrying all over him. Danny laughs and runs away before Ryan can actually make a mess of him.
âHey, all available squirts!â Eddie calls from the next room.
âIâm not available,â Ryan mumbles, obviously not keen on whatever his father has planned.
Luke trails into the kitchen and looks around, confused like he hasnât lived there for years.
âUh, Iâm supposed to set the table. Whereâs the stuffs?â he asks.
âBy yourself?â you ask, showing him where you already have the cookery and cutlery out and ready to go.
âNope.âÂ
Luke lets out a small chuckle but before you can ask whatâs so funny, Mia follows in behind him. Itâs clear she volunteered to be your sonâs assistant.
âIâm here to help!â she announces.Â
Carefully, you load up both kids with as much as you think theyâre able to handle. Luckily, a parade of other small humans comes in to finish the job.
âQuite the operation youâve got going here,â you say to your husband as you step into the dining room. âPutting the kids to work.â
âTheyâre my elves,â he says with a shrug.Â
You giggle and press a kiss to his cheek before walking back into the kitchen.
Ryan and Natalie amble in, neither looking too happy. Eddie doesnât ask why; he knows theyâll tell him.
âI donât want to sit at the kidsâ table,â Ryan whines. For a fourteen-year-old, Eddie thinks Ryan gripes more than his literal baby sister.
Natalie looks at the adult table, then at the kidsâ table. There are nine chairs seated at each and sheâs clearly trying to figure out how two can be added to the larger table.
âMe neither,â she says while mentally calculating.Â
Lucas steps into the room behind the teens and Eddie sees a great opportunity.Â
âOkay, you guys can sit with us,â he tells them. âAs long as you contribute to the conversation.â
âReally?â Natalie asks, instantly perking up. It amazes Eddie how quickly she goes from looking like Wednesday Addams to Pippi Longstocking.
âYeah,â Eddie says. He looks over at his former Hellfire Club member and nods at him. âBy the way Lucas, did you see that the DOW is down three points today?â
Lucas doesnât miss a beat.
âHuh,â he muses. âYou know, I was just talking to my broker about that over a rousing game of golf. He suggested I take another look at my portfolio.â
âUgh fine, weâll sit at the kidsâ table,â Ryan groans.
The two of them slink off to the other side of the room as Eddie and Lucas share a quiet laugh.
âDonât even know if I got all the terms right,â Lucas admits.
Eddie, Ryan, Nancy, and Max all help you take the food out to the tableâwell, tables. Eliza watches it all as Wayne settles her in her highchair at the kidsâ table. Sheâs practically salivating as her chocolate eyes move from dish to dish. Even Mia taking the seat between her and Luke doesnât take her attention from her dinner.Â
Annie settles Molly into her own highchairâElizaâs old one that she outgrew. When Eddie had gotten it out of the garage both of you got a little misty-eyed that your daughter is getting so big.
The turkey is placed at the head of the table, right in front of Eddieâs seat. He picks up the large carving knife and Luke over-dramatically gasps from his place at the kidsâ table. You finish scooping some mashed potatoes onto Elizaâs plate and playfully tug on one of Lukeâs curls.
Eddie glances up from time to time, watching as you make sure each kid has a little bit of everything on the plate in front of them.Â
âYouâre gonna lose a finger, boy,â Wayne warns. The older man smiles though, at the way his nephew looks at his wife.Â
Eddie sets the knife down and discreetly pops the wishbone out of the bird. If he doesnât set it aside now all the kids will be arguing over it and Eddie isnât sure thereâs enough wine in the house to deal with that. This way, Eddie can show the kids the carved-up turkey and point to where the wishbone âshould beâ and shrug, telling them theyâre out of luck. He looks forward to using it with you after the kids go to bed.Â
You giggle as Molly reaches up and puts a dab of cranberry sauce on your nose. Eddie grins as he watches you. He had thought that seeing you with a baby wouldnât hit him in quite the same way after Eliza was born, but it hasnât quelled the yearning.Â
Taking advantage of the kids grabbing the rolls in a frenzy, he slips the wishbone into his pocket. He already knows what his wish will be.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#older!eddie#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#dad!eddie#AYW#AYWs
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Secrets Are For Grown Ups | Part 3
CW: Paperwork. I hate paperwork.
Shout out to the fabulous @xbirdiex. It's better than reading my words for the first time because she is so good at articulting to me how everything makes her feel.
Part 1 here.
John pulled off his glasses before rubbing his eyes so hard the kaleidoscope of colors blurred his vision for seconds after he blinked to clear them. He needed to retire. The years of being trapped at a desk and only let out for training had sapped him of the will to continue. He had given the greater good all that he could, but if one more file got sent to him as half digital half paper copy he would start launching things out the window or possibly set his office ablaze.
He had stayed longer than he should have again but the frozen dish of lasagna and beer at his flat did not entice him home. The trill of his ringing phone pulled him from his languorous thoughts. Number hadnât been saved in his phone. Odd. The same tickle in his brain that saved him on countless missions twitched now. Answering it in silence he waited.
âIs this Captain Price?â
âNot a captain anymore, but this is Price. May I ask who is calling?â
The woman on the other end blew out a breath.
âI worked with you several years back on a visa from the US. Iâm not sure if you remember me,â her tone indicated a question as she searched for more words.
John could only remember one such woman in his time as a captain. You popped into his mind in technicolor.
âI do remember. I havenât heard from you since you left for your family emergency. Has something come up?â
He swore he could feel you vacillating on the other end of the line. You had been so painfully expressive in your communications the year you had worked for him. For you to call out of the blue after so many years, something had to be wrong.
âYes. You could say that.â You blow out a slow breath before continuing. âThis is aâŠa bit of a long story. Do you have a moment?â
Settling back into his office chair with a creak John gets more comfortable.
âFor you, I can take all day.â
Leave had been approved fairly quickly. John had an overabundance of it that brass and the HR and accounting teams hounded him about taking. They all claimed it made their jobs harder if he let it build up so high. He could take off six months without putting a dent in his overall amount of leave. Also if he werenât there to bitch about the paperwork brass would more likely pass it off to someone else.
Last-minute flights were a pain in the ass to schedule as well as to pay for but like everything else in his life money tended to pile up because he rarely had time to spend it. John packed the same way he would for a long mission, though this time he packed his good underwear. You had offered to let him stay with you after he provided the contact information for one Nyla MacTavish.
His phone rang as he zipped up his large suitcase. Glancing at the name John wished he had a cigar to add a hint of nicotine-laced clarity to his thoughts. Flicking open his phone with a thumb John lifted it to his ear.
âBeen expecting your call.â
âThatâs never a good way to start a conversation, John.â
âI agree. Now tell me what happened?â
âDid you know?â The quiet, pained question could bore through bone. Simon, one of his muppets, his strongest men, sounded on the point of tears.
âNot until a few hours ago,â pinching the phone between his ear and his shoulder John settled his wheeled luggage on the floor.
âGood,â Simon repeated it to himself as if confirming his belief in John stood strong. âI had to dose Johnny with part of an edible he didnât know we had in the house. He wanted to break down her door for answers.â
The idea of Simon handing Johnny an innocuous candy or baked good to dose him into a stupor that wouldnât lead to criminal charges caught John as funny.
âI think your husband is going to have something to say about that in the morning.â
Simon snorted, âKnowing him he is going to have a lot more than a single thing to say.â
âMmm, you might be right.â John paused to lock his flat door behind him. âGive me twenty-four hours Simon. I am headed to the airport right now and out to you.â
âDid she invite you or are you coming to keep us in line?â Simonâs voice edged into Ghost territory.
âFor your information, I was invited,â John replied, mock offended.
âYou would have come anyway.â
John could hear the rolling of his eyes even across the line.
âYes, but this way I get to meet your boys and donât have to pay for a hotel.â
Simon sucked in a breath.
âBoys? We thought she had a boy and a girl.â
âNope, she clearly referred to them as the boys or her boys.â
A wet cough cleared the phone line.
âOkay. Let us know when we can meet with her and discuss this all.â Simon sounded defeated, unmoored.
âAre you wanting her back?â John asked carefully as he stepped onto the street to wait for his cab.
âNotâŠnot like before. Johnny and I are happy as we are, but if the boys are either of ours we both want to be involved. We deserve that much.â
John didnât know if the word deserved had any place in this sticky of a situation but he let it slide. That would be for you to explain.
âI will see you in a day or so, Simon. Keep your husband on a short leash until I get there. We both know explosions from Johnny werenât only from bombs.â
A light chuckle from Simon is the only warning before the call ends. John sighs through his nose as he tucks his phone away.
What a hell of a story this would turn out to be.
Secrets Masterlist | Masterlist
@love-kha1 @bdbdhshhs @persephone-kore-law @vmaxis @splaterparty0-0 @momowhoo @talia-the-gemini @redkarmakai @aethelwyneleigh27 @asexualbuthorny
#cod#fanfiction#cod x reader#soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#soap cod#captain john price#lostintransit writing#lostintransit
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Thomas, Engineer
Part 4
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sparks burst upwards into the goggles Thomas was wearing, the plasma cutter in his hand burning at several hundred degrees, focused to an incredibly fine point. Holding it in his work gloves was awkward at best, but years of practice had made him exceptional at his job. Sixer and Mace mightâve been better at the finer detail work, Padrino had incredible dexterity after all, but making custom tools was well within his wheel house too.
The two bot brothers had asked him to make a special kind of nano wrench while they ran a âmemory sweeperâ program through his old translator, the one that had caught that rogue signal all those cycles ago. The group had been working on it in their off time between maintenance requests, and they were finally just steps away from the answers they were looking for. All they needed now was to strip the memory code out of the device, and for that they needed itty bitty tiny nanoscopic tools; ergo, while the twins worked their programs, Thomas got to work making the things theyâd need.
He was almost done too, when the comm-link trilled. A patch job in the security chiefâs office, apparently one of the terminals was unresponsive and the door was getting jammed up on something. Personal projects would have to wait.
âRoomba, we got a job. You coming with or hanging out here?â
[Statement: you operate at greater efficiency when this unit is present]
âThatâs right buddy, but Iâm asking what you wanna do,â Thomas said.
âBeep.â
[Statement: I would like to assist please]
âThanks Roomba, I appreciate that.â Thomas held his arm out and the little droid climbed up to his usual perch on the manâs shoulder. âLook at you, making decisions for yourself. Good for you bud!â
Thomas adored the little robot, and as Roomba got smarter, that feeling only grew. Every day the small cleaning drone was getting more clever, his AI evolving ever further, thanks to the upgrades from Sixer and Mace. Pretty soon Roomba would be as smart as Thomas was.
Maybe Iâll teach him how to play virtual chess, he thought. Or Iâll build him a little controller and we can split screen a blaster battle game or something!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The two made their way through the ship, waving and saying hello to the many people who stopped Thomas to look at the small robot on his shoulder. At this point in their mission, it was common knowledge that one of the humans had made a cleaning drone their âpetâ, although Thomas was trying to make it clear that wasnât the case. Roomba was his own person, he just so happened to have very little legs and it was faster to just catch a ride on his human companion. It probably didnât help that outside himself and the Padrino, nobody else had the hardware to understand what Roomba was saying, so all they ever heard was Beep.
They made it up to the command deck and knocked on the door to the Chiefâs office. It opened halfway before getting stuck, hidden gears grinding, and there was the Chief, leaning on his desk with a data pad in his hand. Thomas figured Chief Ducane was kinda cute, what with his scruffy yet trimmed beard and his various tattoos, but macho wasnât really his thing on guys. That being said, he could see why some on the crew were whispering about him, the man was built. Thomas tried getting his attention through the crack.
âReporting Chief, you sent a maintenance request?â Thomas said through the gap in the door.
âYeah, I did,â Chief Ducane looked up. âOh right, youâre Thomas right? I donât remember if Iâve introduced myself yet, Iâm Danny Ducane. Youâre the guy with the domesticated maintenance droid, right?â The Chief got up to the door and pulled it open himself, the hydraulics groaning as it slid open the rest of the way.
âHeâs notâŠâ Thomas started, annoyed, but took a beat. Donât antagonize the guy who can pull apart the doors. âThis is Roomba, he has an adaptive learning AI now, like the Padrino on the crew. Heâs not a pet.â
Roomba looked up when Thomas said his name and trilled angrily at the idea of being equated to a house cat.
âBeep.â
[Statement: Please inform the other human that I am not domesticated in any way, and would prefer that not get said again]
âHe said youâre being rude,â Thomas explained.
âBeep.â
[Sufficiently put]
Chief Ducane looked at the two of them for a moment before raising his hands in defeat.
âOkay, fair enough, that was a dick move on my part. Sorry little guy, didnât know you were one of the clever bots.â
Thomas nudged his tool bag with his foot, and the Chief took the message.
âRight, my control console is fritzing out,â Ducane said, shuffling awkwardly towards his desk. âThe screen blurs every couple minutes, and the door got stuck this morning, donât know what thatâs about either.â The chief stood there, gesturing to his desk with one hand, the other fumbling to put the data pad down where Thomas suspected he thought he wouldnât be able to see it. It occurred to him that Chief Ducane might not be the most technologically savvy, considering you could read a data pad from either side, and the exact same script was frozen on his console screen. It looked like a checklist of sorts, but Thomas wasnât here to snoop classified documents. Unless itâd be funny, then maybe.
âRight,â Thomas said, eyeing the chief, âitâs probably just an electrical short, a little leftover from that solar flare the other day. Iâll have to strip some wiring but itâs a quick fix. Though the door might have to be taken out so I can get into the motors.â
âAnd how long will that take?â Ducane asked.
âMaybe an hour? Maybe more?â Thomas shrugged. âTakes as long as it takes for me to get in there.â
Thomas looked at him a moment, standing there with his hands on his sides. He could hear Roombaâs mechanical innards ticking and whirring as the little bot held onto his perch on Thomasâs shoulder.
âGuess I should let you get to it then,â Chief Ducane said, clapping his hands and heading for the door, but he stopped before he left, like heâd just remembered heâd left the stove on or some such.
âHey, just a quick question,â he said, turning back to face Thomas. The chiefâs hands were fidgeting, hooking and unhooking his thumbs into his pockets. âAre you acquainted with the Sed engineers? Kor and Taren?â
Thomas thought for a moment, then shrugged.
âSure, Iâve seen them around. Why?â
âThey ever seem real busy for unknown reasons?â
âHonestly? Like you want my work appropriate answer or my actual opinion?â
âBoth.â
âWell my work appropriate answer is sure, they seem good at their jobs, usually off together on requests.â
âAnd your personal opinions?â Chief Ducane pressed, crossing his arms and shifting to stand in the doorway, as if he was keeping Thomas sequestered until he got answers to his odd line of questions. Thomas didnât need to ponder the question that long.
âHonestly? Honestly they kinda suck,â He blurted out, a little more venomously than heâd intended. âLike, okay, donât get me wrong, you ask them questions and they give the right answers, they know how things work and they know the right tool for the jobs, but work wise? Half the time nobody can find them. Iâve had three repair jobs handed over to me in the last two weeks âcause theyâre off somewhere fooling around.â
âFooling around?â Ducane intoned, âas inâŠ?â
âWell we just kinda assumed they were an item. And look, weâre sympathetic, but the work load is insane on a ship this size with this many conflicting requirements. Temperature differences for different races, atmospheric controls bottoming out, I got a guy with four arms for a boss and even he thinks itâs ridiculous how often stuff around here breaks.â
âSo you all just assumed they were off somewhere⊠doing that, while you all just put up with it? Has anyone seen them like this?â Chief Ducane pushed.
âRoomba did,â Thomas said, tilting his head the little droidâs direction, âwhile we were doing repairs in the air ducts a couple cycles ago.â
âBeep.â
[Please do not disclose this information]
âHuh?â Thomas put the little droid in his palm and let him stand for himself. âWhatâs up buddy?â
âWhatâs he saying?â The chief asked, shifting focus from Thomas to Roomba and back again.
âBeep.â
[Disclosure of this information will bring my work efficiency into question]
Ohhhhhhh, Thomas thought.
âHeâs just saying how weird what he saw was,â Thomas shiftily explained, patting the little droid on the head. âWe were working some repairs in the ducts when Roomba saw Taren in another part of the ship through the grating. He was on a comm-link and Kor showed up with a thing Roomba didnât recognize, but from what he told me it was some hand tool I think.â
âSo maybe they were just on another job and not screwing around?â Ducane questioned.
âNah, couldnât be, I was supposed to be the only repair guy in that part of the ship at the time. Everyone else is still supposed to be in the core room making repairs after that solar flare.â
Thomas took a deep breath and looked Ducane in the eye.
âChief, be straight with me, is something going on on my ship?â
âWhat do you mean your ship?â Ducane scoffed.
âTrust me, this ship has already gotten enough of my blood, sweat, and tears man. I probably love her more than anyone else on this boat, so yeah, sheâs my ship.â Thomas was getting a tad red in the face as he said this, which was fair, as it was slightly embarrassing to voice this odd idea of his. âLook man, this ship might be just a job to you, but itâs not just that to me, okay? So if thereâs something happening here that could hurt her, Iâm not gonna let that happen.â
How odd that a simple maintenance request could have such an impact on his day?
Roomba reach up and tugged on Thomasâs earlobe.
âBeep.â
[New Task Uploaded: protect Noah. Confirm?]
âThatâs right Roomba, thatâs what weâre gonna do,â Thomas said, weirdly amped up now. Chief Ducane stood there looking at him incredulously.
âIs every kid in the galaxy just ready to ride shotgun off to war these days? I swear, you younger guys need to do something more productive and fun with all that extra energy you have.â
âShove it⊠respectfully, Chief.â
âWell if it makes you feel any better, I donât have anything concrete that something is happening, not that I could tell you if I did.â Ducane shrugged and crossed his arms again, leaning against the wall. The data pad behind them on the desk trilled, a new file had been sent to it, and before the tones had silenced themselves, Thomas felt as if his neurons had just taken a bolt of electricity across his frontal lobe. He turned back to face the Security Chief with a dread look tacked onto his face.
âHypothetically, Chief, if somebody had possibly intercepted a weird transmission while outside the broadcast shields, how important would that be?â
Chief Ducane stared at him a moment, then clasped his hands together in front of his mouth before sighing uncomfortably hard.
âIâd say thatâd be pretty important, kid.â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
âI thought you were supposed to be smart!â Danny half accused, walking quickly down the hall away from the lift.
âMan, Iâm like actually a genius, I have four degrees, but nobody ever accused me of being smart,â Thomas said, shrugging. âI didnât want to get kicked off the ship if it was nothing, which it probably is!â
âYou wouldnât have gotten kicked off the ship. If I canât even get rid of Grite, youâre as safe as can be.â
âOh, okay,â Thomas said sarcastically, âthen I totally shouldâve spilled it when, while on a space walk, my somewhat illegally jailbroke translator picked up a rogue signal on the long range communications array for the ship I just got a job on. Iâve seen people canned for less, I couldâve been tried for espionage or something.â
âYou did what?â
Thomas and Danny turned on theirs heels to see Odis the Galley standing in the doorway theyâd just passed, a âcoffeeâ mug in hand. It had a cartoonish drawing of a purple cow on it.
âOh good, weâre just telling the whole ship now, I guess,â Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. âIâm definitely getting fired.â
âWait wait wait, Odis is cool,â Thomas vouched. âHeâs a real stand up guy.â
âWhat did you do now humie?â Odis groaned, downing whatever was in his mug before sprinting to join them. His shorter legs had to move twice as fast to keep up with the taller humans.
âSo you know that project the twins and I have been working on?â Thomas asked.
âYeah, youâve been using your off hours for something thatâs not video games, of course I noticed.â
âFiredâŠ,â Danny moaned. âCourt marshalled even.â
âQuiet big human, the smart human is talking.â
âOh no, weâve established that word doesnât apply to me.â
âBeep.â
[Thank you for not telling the human I fell down the air ducts]
It was a wonder how the entire ship didnât know what they were doing by then, seeing as they were not exactly discreet as they headed down to the maintenance decks. When the group of them finally made the locker room, more than one set of eyes was watching them, though it was mostly Chief Ducane they were looking at. It wasnât exactly normal operating procedures for the Chief of Security to walk into their locker room.
âHow is it that you humans are always up to something ridiculous?â Odis asked, shaking his bulbous gray head. âI mean, as a Galley, Iâm actually impressed with the level of⊠whatâs a good human word for this nonsense?â
âShenanigans?â Thomas offered.
âRidiculous words, ridiculous peopleâŠ,â Odis laughed. âThe cows are cool, but the rest of your world is just a mess of weird, huh?â
The humans didnât respond, though given any thought, they couldnât have refuted the Galley anyway.
Sixer and Mace stood at their work table, the terminal screen running thousands of lines of code a second. Thomas wouldâve loved to comb through it given the chance, but now wasnât the time.
âTwins!â he called over, âGot it up and going?â
âAlmost, Human Thomas,â Sixer replied.
âHello, Security Chief Ducane,â Mace greeted.
âYeah, hi guys,â Danny said. âI hear you all have been working a little side project?â
The two Padrino turned to each other and each gave a quick burst of machine speak before turning back to face them.
âHuman Thomas, do you believe it is time to inform the shipâs command structure of our findings?â
âYou could say that, yeah,â Thomas nodded.
âGood, because we have finished preparations. We simply need the tool you made up and to see if the sweeper program retrieves any data.â
Thomas patted down his coveralls before fishing the nano-wrench from his inner pocket. He handed the tool to Sixer, who turned back to the table and made the final adjustments.
âMoment of truth, I guess,â he said.
âYou realize Iâm going to be extremely pissed if you got me down here and all worked up for nothing,â Danny said pointedly.
âUnderstood⊠sir,â Thomas swallowed hard.
The computer ran its program, thousands, hundreds of thousands of lines of code fluttering across the screen, the Padrinoâs speed was impressive to say the least. They definitely had to teach him that sometime.
After a minute of them staring at the terminal in silence, the screen showed a resounding-
âNothing?â Thomas and Danny said in unison.
âCorrect,â Sixer said.
âUnfortunately,â continued Mace, âthe translators are not equipped with enough memory storage to log something the size of a communications transmission.â
âSo weâve got nothing?â Thomas said, hands clenched at his sides. He didnât know what he wanted the signal to be, but nothing was⊠incredibly unsatisfying, to say the least.
âDid you try to see recipient data?â Odis asked, eyeing the console code.
âWhat?â Thomas turned to him, confusion distorting the disappointment on his face.
âWith the long range array, itâs got recipient data built into the message, so the thing knows who itâs going to,â Odis explained slowly. âBack in the day, we Galley used to strip data out of long range messages to find new planets to⊠interact with. Itâs how we found the humies first, caught all those messages you kept throwing out into space.â Odis rifled through one of his side pockets and brought out something that looked like a key fob with a port on one end. He popped open a panel in the terminal and plugged it in, hitting a couple keys to sync the programs together. Thomas watched, confusion and disappointment morphing into a cautious optimism. Maybe theyâd find something after all.
âAnd here⊠we⊠go!â Odis said smugly, triumphantly hitting the execute key. The screen rolled the code again, but this time information began loading, the computer compiling the data for them.
âAnd you just happen to have this⊠why?â Danny looked sternly in the Galleyâs direction.
âIf it makes you feel any better Chief, most of my free time has been spent with the kid playing Terran video games,â Odis snickered. âDonât worry about what Iâve been up to, worry about whoever is sending messages to the GAIL High Council.â
âWhat the hell?â Danny exclaimed, leaning over the console to examine the data.
Sure enough, they couldnât recover any of the message, the data was just too big for the little device to have caught any. However, Odisâs tracer did show that whatever the signal was, it had gone straight to someone by the name of Mons on the High Council of the Grand Assembly of Intelligent Lifeforms.
âChief, what the hell are we looking at?â Thomas asked, for the first time actually realizing that something could be deeply, darkly wrong on the ship.
âThis doesnât make any sense, communications canât go directly to the Council, not without going through Captain Skitch and me,â Danny kept looking at the screen, rereading the data from start to finish, over and over again, before pulling out his data pad and copying all of it down, taking photos too.
âWhat are you doing?â Sixer asked.
âMaking sure whatever we have here, thereâs multiple copies so we canât lose any proof later.â
âDo you suspect thereâs another agenda aboard this ship Chief Ducane?â Mace followed.
â⊠I sincerely hope not, but either way, none of this ever happened. Not a single one of you saw any of this, okay? Nothing and no one,â Danny looked at each of them in turn, making sure they understood his meaning, âis going to hear about any of this. And when I call any of you to my office, itâs double time, understood?â
âYou got it Chief,â Thomas said immediately, the others following suit, but with much less gusto.
âBeep.â
[Task: protect Noah in progress]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The work shift ended with no more excitement, however Thomasâs heart rate hadnât declined even a bit in the following hours. The idea that something could threaten the ship, his ship, the ship heâd almost died for already, filled him with some very mixed emotions, not the least of which was apprehension. It did reassure him that Chief Ducane seemed like a good guy, and that he wasnât going to take any disciplinary measures against the worker crew for anything, but the idea that they could be called on to actually do something was daunting.
Walking to the mess hall, Thomas realized heâd never actually made any of the requested repairs to Danny office. He pulled a comm-link out of his back pocket and sent a quick âsorry, Iâll be right there to fix the doorâ text, but was alarmed at what the Chief of Security replied almost instantly.
>Someone searched my office while cameras were out of commission. Nothing is missing. They took advantage of the door being jammed and unlocked<
Another message:
>Donât come up here, itâll look suspicious for the both of us. Iâll make another request tomorrow. Tell your friends to be careful, and come to me immediately if you see anything at all<
Thomas shakily put the comm-link back in his pocket and headed back towards the Vending Machines. He saw Odis sitting in the corner and joined him after getting his food.
âYou ever think someone in the GAIL could do something pretty bad?â
âWhat, you think you humans have a monopoly on being kind of shitty?â Odis snorted. âYouâre not that weird, you know.â
#deathworlders of e24#humans are deathworlders#humans are space oddities#humans are space orcs#humans are weird#humans are strange#humans are space australians#earth is space australia#humans are insane#humans are terrifying#original story#original character#creative writing#writing
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Joe Teague x F!Reader
Summary: On his wedding night, before he gets to spend some time alone with you, Joe listens to the conversation you're having with your daughter as you tuck her in. The little girl has some interesting questions regarding him and his new role in her life that you're happy to answer to put her at ease.
CW: +18, explicit, smut, oral sex (f. recieving), p in v sex, fluff, wedding night, pregnancy, dancing, established relationship, mention of past abuse, mention of divorce, set in the late 40s.
Word Count: 2,3k
â Links: AO3 // Joe Masterlist
Joe takes one final look around the first floor to make sure all doors and windows are locked before heading upstairs. The kitchen is a cluttered mess of dirty dishes piling in the sink from the casual reception you hosted right at the brand-new house. Dishes can wait till tomorrow. It's been a big day worthy of celebration and while it's sad to see it come to an end, he can't wait to see what this new chapter in his life with you brings him.
He's excited to see what the future holds, what these walls would tell ten or twenty years from now. This is where he's putting his roots, and he's betting everything on it that there won't be no bail this time. You are it for him. There's no doubt in his heart.
Though itâs neither his nor your first marriage, it feels just like it. The experience is completely different, given that both of you come with your own baggage; and kids in your case from your first marriage. You chose to have a simple ceremony at the courthouse, followed by a small reception at the house, and it couldn't have gone better. He can't get over how beautiful everything was. He knew you were special from the moment he met you, but the sense of pride and love he's felt today comes second to none. Not only did you look stunning in the custom dress you made yourself, but the way you've handled every little detail is something to admire.
He still has part of his uniform on when he steps into the hallway of the second floor to see you tuck Grace, your six-year-old, into bed. He leans on the door frame, listening to your voices through the cracked door.
âMama, you look like a princess today,â she says as you pull the sheet over her body, folding it carefully at the hem as the little girl gets comfortable on her pillow. Just like Joe, you're still wearing your wedding dress with no shoes on.
âThanks, baby. Did you have fun today?â
âYeah, I wish youâd marry every day.â
âEvery day? Thatâd be a lot of work with that many husbands.â She breaks into laughter along with you. âWhat was your favorite part?â
âThe cake.â
âIt was a great cake.â You agree, pushing a strand of hair off her face.
âWill you make me a dress like yours for my wedding day?â
âSure, but first I need to know who you're marrying.â
âHm, I don't know yet.â The little girl shrugs, holding a stuffed teddy bear in her embrace. âSomeone like Joe, I guess.â
âYeah? You like Joe?â
âHe's pretty funny.â
âPretty funny looking, I'd say.â Joe watches you glance over your shoulder, smiling at him.
âIs he my dad now? Should I call him daddy?â
âOnly if you want to.â You sweetly caress her face. âDo you want Joe to be your daddy?â
She nods. âWhat if he doesn't want to? Is he going to be mean to us like my other daddy was?â
It breaks your heart hearing her express it like that at such a short age. As much as you tried to protect her, she was still aware of how awful her father was to you both. You thought she had forgotten about him after he died a few years ago, cause she was still a toddler. It was hard to explain to her that he didn't come back from war, but somehow your little girl understood that your lives turned for the better the moment he was gone. And surprisingly, sheâs never mentioned him until now.
âBaby, I promise you, Joe is a good man. Heâd never hurt us like that. We wouldnât be here otherwise. You might see us sometimes argue, but I give you my word that no matter what, Joe loves us more than your daddy ever did. Heâs going to take care of us, and weâre going to take care of him, okay? Weâre family now. It doesnât matter if you call him daddy or not, heâs gonna love you the same.â
Grace hugs her teddy bear tight as you watch her pondering for a moment in silence.
âDo you wanna ask him or do you want me to do it?â
âYou do it.â She sticks out her finger and boops your nose.
âAlright, I'll do it.â You turn your head again to nod at Joe, beckoning him to come closer.
He steps into the room and bends down by the bed, propping a knee on the floor and holding his forearm on your lap.
âHey, Gracie Jo.â
âHi,â she says shyly, even though she's usually pretty chatty around him. But this is a big ask, you're aware, and a big step for all of you. âMommy wants to ask you something.â
âOh?â he gazes at you with a smile on his face, very aware of what youâre going to ask. Itâs something youâve talked about before, but you didnât want to force Grace into accepting Joe as her father before she was ready.
âGracie and I were wondering if youâd like to be her daddy.â
He fondly looks at you and then turns to her to assure her there's nothing he'd love more.
âIt'd be an honor to be your dad, sweetheart,â he promises, placing a kiss on her forehead.
It melts your heart to see them both beaming in delight. You have no doubts that Joe would be up for the task to fill that role in her life better than anyone. You and Grace would've been fine with or without him in your life, but you're glad you got the opportunity to meet him and fall in love with him like this.
You curl up with Grace until she falls asleep and then retire to your new room.
You've got the house for a week now, but with all the arrangements for the wedding and the hassle of moving, you haven't had a minute to stop to look at it as your new home until now. There's still work to do, but you're proud of what you've accomplished to make it feel safe and comfortable for your daughter. That's all you needed. You're exhausted, but it was all worth it at the end. Hopefully, you'll be able to slow down in the next few days while everything settles.
When you step out of Graceâs room, you leave the door slightly ajar. Next to it, by the staircase there's your workspace, and a bathroom on the other side. Thereâs an empty bedroom in front of hers that would soon be filled with baby furniture for the little guy growing in your belly. You haven't told Grace yet, she would have babbled to everyone at the party that she was having a baby brother or sister, which is something she's been asking for years. In a couple of days, you and Joe will tell her and you know already she'll be over the moon.
At the end of the hallway is yours and Joe's bedroom. There's only a light coming from a night lamp when you go inside. There's music playing on the radio while he waits for you, sitting on the chair by the window. He still looks as handsome as this morning, when you first saw him fully dressed in his uniform. Now, his shirt is half unbuttoned, his pants are creased, and the shoes are off.
âThought youâd be in bed by now, Mr. Teague,â you say as he stands up to meet you in the middle.
âI was waiting for you, Mrs. Teague.â He picks up your hand and brings it up to his lips to print a kiss on your knuckles. âI didnât get a chance to dance with my bride today, I was hoping we could do it now. Would you like that, sweetheart?â
âIâd love that.â Your lips form a smile as he spins you around in the middle of the room before securing an arm around your waist.
You place your palms on his chest, smoothing the fabric of his shirt across the breadth of his chest, locking eyes with him for a moment before pillowing your head on his shoulder.
Closely tucked in his embrace, you both start moving your feet to the slow cadence of the song playing on the radio.
âIâm sorry we didnât get to dance today. I wanted to do something small, I didnât think that youâdââ you say softly before he cuts you off.
âSweetheart, donât apologize. It was perfect. I wanted something small, too. I told you I didnât care for fanfare. I like it like this, just you and me.â
You lift your head to look at him. âYouâre the sweetest man Iâve ever met. How did I get so lucky?â
âAll it took was a robber. Iâd like to thank him personally for bringing us together,â he quips.
Thatâs exactly how you met. The tailoring shop you work at got robbed about a year ago, and Joe was the lead detective on the case. It was a terrifying experience, but it gave you Joe, so you have to look at it as a blessing. After a couple of follow-up interviews, he started showing up casually around the neighborhood to check in the place here and there until the robber was caught red-handed again, trying to rob a jewelry shop a couple of blocks away. By that time, Joe didnât have any more excuses to show up, so he started bringing some of his personal pieces of clothing to fix. First a jacket, then a couple of shirts, a pair of pants⊠Until one day he built up the courage to ask you out for a coffee. Before you realized it, you were falling madly in love with him. It was never in your cards to marry again, but Joe was the odds that changed your luck. He wasnât only great to you as a boyfriend, but the way he treated your daughter played a major factor on that decision.
âHow are you feeling, sweetheart? Is our little buddy behaving today?â He glances down at your still seemingly inconspicuous four-month bump hidden under the loose fitting of your dress.
âHm, heâs been an angel. I havenât been sick all day. Just a little tired.â
âYeah? Youâre ready to go to bed?â
âNo. Not yet. When the song ends.â
You lock your arms tight around his neck as he lets his forehead touch yours before letting his lips crash with yours in a firm kiss that almost makes your legs crumble down to the floor. His arms anchor you in place as the sweet undoing of his kiss sends you somewhere closer to heaven.
As the melody fades, your bodies come alive against the other. The magnetic pull of your unwavering love guides your lips to fuse together in a hot frenzy of desire. It hurts so good, you can't help but moan in his mouth. When you grow breathless, you pull back and turn around so he can unzip your dress. You quickly shed every piece of clothing and undergarment to consummate your marriage for the first time as husband and wife. It helps that you've had sex many times before, otherwise you'd be ridden with anxiety. But everything has always been so easy with Joe, and this night is no different. He makes you feel desired in ways you've never experienced before. He evokes something so powerful inside, you can't speak coherently without tripping over your words. So you suffocate him with kisses and hold him for as long as you can.
As your lungs lose the ability to breathe properly, he places you down on the mattress. Your body buzzes with anticipation when he kneels at the foot of the bed. He climbs his way between your legs that he spreads open as far as they can stretch. He kisses the inside of your thigh from you knew up to your groin, making your skin rise into pimples all over. His lips make an urgent stop at your center to bury his tongue between your folds. The eagerness to taste you causes your legs to shake like an earthquake. His tongue collects the essence of your arousal as if he was a starving man. Your core wounds up in an impossible knot made of fire that is almost unbearable to contain. You have to cover your mouth to muffle the sinful sounds that come out of your lips.
âJoe, honey,â you pant, extending your hand to grip at his hair so he would climb on top of you. âI want you inside me.â
Following your request, he slithers up your body, nestling between your legs, letting you feel his hardness against your sex. He deliciously rubs himself on your folds before guiding his cock between your soaked lips.
One of his hands holds your jaw, while his forehead leans against yours. His hips slowly push inside you, capturing the warmness of your walls that contract gently around him every time your hips slant against his moves.
âGod, I love you so much, sweetheart,â his voice comes out ragged as he ups the pace of his thrusting.
âNot as much as I love you.â You use your hands to press harder on his ass, so you can feel every inch of him filling you up to the hilt.
Joe presses his mouth open against yours, seizing your breath as he takes you to the final line where your orgasm comes crashing against his own. They merge together for a second, surrounding both of you in a cloud of elation that rushes through the tangled mess of your bodies like thunder. Your legs tremble as the flutter of your opening squeezes every drop out of his seed.
â Credits: beautiful divider by @cafekitsune
#bernthirst tv tribute#joe teague x reader#joe teague#mob city#jon bernthal#jon bernthal fanfiction#fanfiction#fluff#smut#darlingwrites
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Adam looked around while Lucifer bounced Avery on his knee.
Adam: So. Redemption, huh? It's uh... interesting idea.
Charlie beamed: Really!? I mean- yes. Very interesting. There's a lot of planning that has gone into everything.
Adam glances over to the bar: Yeeah, I can tell.
He wanted to tell the princess that she's wasting her time, but he really didn't feel like getting into an argument.
The fuck is happening to him? He loves starting fights.
Fuck it.
Adam: You know it's bullshit, right?
Charlie: B-Bullshit?
Lucifer glances over to them.
Lucifer: You should hear her out, Adam. She's done a lot of work.
Adam: Oh sure. This place is huge and everything but how many guests do you have?
Charlie gulped: Two-. But that's okay! Their doing great! They have weekly sessions-.
Adam: That's cute. How many have you redeemed?
Everyone was silent, even Avery.
Adam: ...You don't know oooor none?
Charlie looks away: none.
Adam: Hm. Interesting but not impressive.
Vaggie: Look, fucker. She's worked hard on this place and these sinners that are here! You can just shit on her idea!
Adam: Oh, consider ot well shited on, Vagina~.
Charlie glanced at Vaggie, did Adam know her?
Adam: It's just- I mean fuck. Look at it! Do you really think Heaven is going to let in sinners just because they know how to not be a piece of shit 24/7?
Vaggie glared: They let you in.
Adam smiled: Yeah, they did.
Vaggie storms up to him: Listen here, first prick. You can't just come in here like you fucking own the place and tell the PRINCESS of Hell that her dream isn't going to work!
Adam smiled wider as Vaggie went off on him. Fuck he missed this.
Adam: Oh, I can't? Well, I am technically a representative of Heaven, I've been there for nearly 10,000 years, bitch. It's my fucking job to protect every soul up there from the scum down here. So, why would I just bend over and let your little princess ass fuck me into letting sinners upstairs, huh?
Vaggies eye twitched: thatsnotwhatshesdoing.
Adam: Isn't it? Yo, Chandler, do you know what you need to do to pass divine judgment?
Charlie: Uh- I-It's Charlie- hi! Actually... I do!
Adam: Really? Well, you'd be athe only one, toots~. So, wanna enlighten us?
Charlie: ...Wait- no one knows?
Adam smiled: One person knows!
Charlie: Oh- who?
Adam: You. You just said you knew. Unless you were lying-.
Adam gasps: Which is a big no-no! So. Either you know what a soul needs to pass divine judgment oooor you don't. Which is it?
Charlie: ...I don't know.
Adam: There we go.
Charlie: Look- everyone deserves a second chance, right? If this is a long-term solution for stopping the exterminations, then shouldn't we all be doing our part?
Adam: Ha! Fuck no!
Avery: no!
Adam: That's my girl~. How about this, if you can answer this question for me, I'll support your hotel.
Charlie beams again: Okay! What is it?
Adam: What sinners don't qualify for your hotel?
Charlie: ...They all qualify- everyone deserves a second chance.
Adam: Oh yeah? Do you know what some of these assholes down here have done? Do serial killers deserve to go to Heaven? Do their victims deserve to live out their afterlife in fear because the cunt that fucking butchered them are now in Heaven?
Charlie: I... e-everyone deserves a second-.
Adam: Want to say something else? Something that's meaningful? Not everyone deserves a second chance, Channing. Some deserve to rot down here, and if I'm lucky, I get to shove my axe into their chest once a year. So, I'll give you one last chance. What sinners don't qualify for your hotel?
What about an au where Adam goes to Hell for night trips, wher ehe just parties and fucks. He has a disguise (it's just a slightly different looking helmet).
Lucifer joins his daughter and her friends at a bar, where he sees "Adam". He instantly knows it's him, but he's curious as to what he's doing.
So Lucifer spends hours flitting with him and buying him drinks to get him drunk. But Lucifer actually finds himself having a great time.
Long story short- they fuck, Adam doesn't let Lucifer know he's Adam. He goes back to Heaven and after a few months, he finds out he's pregnant.
Which is fucking weird cause he's definitely a dude, and he's very dead. But Lucifer's the Devil đ€·.
He basically has to play it off as him getting fat. It's working until the next meeting with Lucifer happens during his ninth month, and he's goes into labor right in front of Lucifer.
Lucifer: Why didn't you tell me your were fucking pregnant!?
Adam: Because you didn't know it was me!!
Lucifer: Yes I did! You have the same face!
Adam: ..... Oh..
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hey guys so I just started reading Flatland by Edwin A. Abbott and OMG AHSBNSBSBSNSNBSHZHSHDBFHGGHFHGRJ2KSHSBSNSK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE THINKING ABOUT THE RELATIVITY BETWEEN DIMENSIONS!!!!!!
#probably the nerdiest thing i will ever read in my entire life but I AM SO HAPPY#Its the unabridged and corrected 1992 republication btw. if you wanna get specific#the only book in which i have actually decided to read the introductory notes and i do NOT regret it because the editor's one IMMEDIATELY#brought up the âoh but surely the second dimension has thickness how else would flatlanders see anythingâ AND GAVE A REALLY GOOD ANSWER.#which i cannot tell you here. bc it is several paragraphs long and idk how i would shorten it. i would hit tag limit. if thats a thing.#anyways. I'm only a little bit into the first part which basically explains how Flatland works as a society so i haven't even gotten to the#sphere yet but OH MAN I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO EXCITED ABOUT A ROUND OBJECT IN MY LIFE#IM LOSING IT OVER THIS BOOK AAAA :D#me: im so glad i dont have a math class during my senior year! now i dont have to learn anything math-related!#also me: but what if i started studying a complex and almost entirely theoretical part of geometry#bc YEAH i didn't just buy this book bc of gravity falls. I BOUGHT IT BC IVE BEEN RESEARCHING THE 4TH DIMENSION WOOOOOOO!!!!!#one thing i will say i dont like. introductory note suggests the the 4th dimension might be time. this is ok tho bc its followed up with#also saying that time is not a spatial dimension and exist across the 0 1st 2nd and 3rd dimensions which. that epuld mean we live in 4d#already. so. i was worried for a second but THANK YOU THANK YOU OH MY GOD PEOPLE TRYING TO SAY âOH THE 4TH DIMENSION IS TIMEâ I HATE THAT SO#MUCH AAAAGGHHHH AT LEAST RECOGNIZE ITS NOT SPATIAL!!! TIME IS NOT A SPATIAL DIMENSION!!!!!!! IF IT WAS THEN 4D TRAVEL AND TIME TRAVEL WPULD#BE FHE SAME THING AND DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY MUCH COOLER POSSIBILITIES WPULD BE THROWN AWAY IF THAT WAS THAT CASE!!!!! AND. AND. IF THE 4TH#DIMENSION IS TIME. THEN WHATS THE 5TH?? 6TH?? YPU CANT KEEP GOINF ON FOREVER LIKE THAT. YPURE JUST MAKEING MORE 3D WORLSS WITH STUFF IN#ADDITION TO TIME. INTERESTING BUT THAY IS NOT ABOHT HIGHRER DIEMSBSJSNSBAKAJSHDHDHHDHDHDJ#sorry for the rant. jsut. agh i want a spatial 4th dimension. i dont think tesseracts exist through time that would just be an aged cube#anyways yeahhh i love the 4th dimension. new hyperfixation or new special interest? ill have to wait and see. anyways i have done it i have#an oc whos 4 dimensional now and she is the coolest ever i love her#but yeah this book is sosososo good i am literally gonna bring it to school to read instead of draw bc i would lose it if i didn't#10/10 would recommend to anyone who wants to Think
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me when i write a character who is prone to dooming themself and then they run off and doom themself. core traits are stubbornness and a willingness to disregard their own humanity gET BACK HERE IM NOT DONE WITH YOU
#rambling#surprisingly this is not about jakob.. im just really consistent about my favorite character archetypes đđ#WARNING THE NOTES ON THIS ARE REALLY LONG I STARTED RAMBLING#âouhh i have a headache i'll just lie down and rotate my blorbos in no general direction for a while until it goes awayâ and then boom.#serious plot considerations. 2 questions answered 24million new questions raised. this is specifically Not what i asked for.#so now im sitting here STILL dizzy running mental calculations on how i can get this bitch out of peril without reworking everything#but they literally keep dying in every timeline đđ every single plausible road leads to them running off and screwing themself over#âcharacter who doesn't realize they want to live until it's way too late to look backâ VS#âcharacter who is forced to live and handle the things they never though they'd survive long enough to deal withâ FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT.#fucking hell i have never had this much trouble writing a character as i have with them#they genuinely do just run off and do shit without my permission and then i have to pace for an hour or two wondering#âok they wOULD do that. but should they. do i feel like i can confidently write that.â#im like constantly in this tug of war trying to get them to CHILL#but also they are absolutely my favorite character from the entire project. but like. FUCK GET BACK HERE#is death the most satisfying end to this arc? is someone who was Set on dying then NOT dying the most satisfying end to the arc?#how many bridges can you burn until you irreparably set yourself aflame too?#would ghost or revival plotline work?? would it make sense with the worldbuilding??#do i just Like Them enough to want them to not die?? where do i draw the line between personal bias and a good arc?#is death not feeling as impactful as survival solely because i've been writing for so long that it's lost the initial impact?#and other such plot considerations...#im gonna have such an easy time writing another character though đđ because THAT character's dynamic in the second act#is to stare at character 1 and be like âwhy are you like this. i mean i know Why but can you chill. please.â and like damn bro me too#actually wait no i think kaey.a is the hardest character i've ever written i take it back#had to worry about his 20million facades AND his Actual feelings AND canon compliance. shit is hard#i still havent finished the k/aeya fic i started back when the chasm first released which is uhh. two years ago. oops.#i think i struggle writing emotionally repressed liars i think thats what this is đđ anyways.#(voice of guy who has been obsessed with nonlinear narratives and tragedies for several years):#âis it too much to kill this character in a nonlinear exploration game with tragic elementsâ#like bitch what are you talking about đđ YOU'RE the target audience here figure it out#sorry the notes on this are just my writing journal now apparently
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Getting into Star Trek because I think it would be good for me, should I start with DS9 or TOS?
Honestly, Iâd recommend starting with either TOS or TNG!
I love, love, love TOS, but itâs very much a product of its time, so you kind of have to go in prepared for hokey special effects and weird 60s morals (which isnât to say it wasnât progressive for its timeâit very much wasâbut still. It was made 50+ years ago.) If you like old TV like The Twilight Zone, youâd probably like TOS a lot, but itâs not necessarily super representative of Star Trek in its entirety. But it is iconic for a reason, so I definitely recommend watching it at some point even if itâs not the first thing you see!
TNG is a little more modern (but still a product of the late 80s/early 90s, lol), and a lot of people view it as the definitive Star Trek showâit introduced loads of concepts and characters that are now considered staples of the franchise, and it references TOS sometimes, but itâs a good intro to Star Trek on its own. Its first season is kinda shaky (mostly because it used a lot of old scripts meant for TOS, and some of them didnât fit the new characters/setting all that well), but it gets really, really good by like, season 3 at the latest, so you just kinda have to give it time. Both TNG and TOS have the classic, episodic, optimistic-space-exploration Star Trek vibes that I adore, so imo, you canât you wrong starting with either of them. (Also, Strange New Worldsâthe newest show, set a little before TOS in the timelineâis very similar in tone to them both, so if you like either TOS/TNG, youâd probably enjoy that one, too.)
Oh, and!! DS9 is fantastic, but I actually wouldnât recommend starting it until youâve seen TNG. Itâs not a sequel to TNG or anything, but it does reference some characters and storylines from TNG, so it might be kind of confusing to watch without that context. And a huge part of its appeal is the way it deconstructs existing Star Trek concepts, so you kind of have to know those concepts before you can really appreciate their deconstruction, you know? Idk if that makes any sense, but anyway! My recommended viewing order would be TOS/TNG, then DS9, and SNW at some point if you like the episodic space exploration stuff and you want a 2024 version of that.
#sorry this got really long lol#Iâve heard Voyager is good too but itâs been years since Iâve seen any of it#Iâm sure someone somewhere has figured out where to place Voyager/Enterprise/all of the other shows in the viewing order#oh and itâs also worth saying that Lower Decks *looks* like itâd be a lame Rick-and-Morty sitcom#but I found it surprisingly charming and funny#anyway I love star trek! itâs perfect for when you just want a bite-sized episodic sci-fi adventure with lovable and competent characters#and so many episodes have aged soooo well itâs crazy how ahead of their time they were#AND itâs the origin of so many fandom tropes which makes it hilarious to watch#sometimes you pull up an episode and youâre like WAIT THATS WHERE ALIEN SEX POLLEN CAME FROM? or FUCK OR DIE IS CANON??? or whatever#but yeah. consider this my star trek propaganda#answered
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NOT SO INVISIBLE STRING â GOJO SATORU
synopsis: the universe has a funny way of working. gojo always knew he was destined to be with you and so did others. it just took some time for you to figure that out as well.
content warning(s): FLUFF! eventual smut so 18+ mdni, fem! reader, pining gojo (sooo cute), mutual pining, friends to lovers, unproetected sex, gojo calling you baby multiple times while going innn.
word count: 6.8k zoo wee mama... pls read anyway or i'll dâ
SPRING 2008
âSo, youâre not gonna miss me? Not even a little?âÂ
An arm was suddenly thrown across your shoulders, leaving you to bear its weight. The press of his uniform stuck to your nape, making his presence all the more difficult to ignore.
Fellow students bustled and sidestepped their way around you two, some even falter in their steps to ogle briefly at the scene unfolding before them.
âSatoru, move!â Shokoâ your saviourâ jabs Gojoâs side, urging him to budge, but to no avail.
Heâs still tethered to your side, twirling around his diploma in his unoccupied hand despite your best efforts to create space between you two. âYouâre literally blocking peopleâs way toward the gates,â she says.
Itâs graduation day and the last day of school for the spring semester, bringing the school year to yet another successful end. It also meant that today would be the last time your upperclassmen would walk on school grounds as students.
The sun was beginning to dip behind the many trees surrounding the school, and its marvellous glow cast warm hues of pink and orange that stretched across the sky. Its rays descend onto the schoolâs campus; setting for a brilliant, comforting atmosphere.Â
Answering Gojoâs initial question about whether youâd miss him, you avert eye contact with your persistent senior. âI never said that,â your voice teeters between a grumble and a groan riddled with exasperation.Â
Your eyes sweep the courtyard and you spot a few familiar faces in the crowd. Some are gathered along the steps leading up to the school taking photos to commemorate today. Others linger on campus chatting amongst themselves, and some whack each other with their diploma scrolls while others treat theirs delicately.
And not too far off from where Satoru holds you hostage stood a small crowd of his classmatesâspecifically, his female classmatesâ waiting for their chance to bid their goodbyes...
Or stumble out an unprepared confession thrown out in the heat of the moment before they may never see Gojo Satoru again.
Who knows.Â
All youâre sure of is that they are most definitely throwing you shady death glares from your peripheral.
âYâknow, Iâm gonna miss you,â Gojo says, his arm still looped around your shoulders. He has half a mind to drag you away from standing right front and centre in the entranceway and shuffles you off to the side. âAll the years weâve spent togetherââ
âTwo years, by force.âÂ
ââ and now weâre being split apart,â he finishes, paying no mind to your sardonic comment. The infliction in his voice prompts you to turn to look at him, only to wind up and see a slight pout tugging at his soft, pink lips. âHow ever will we manage?â
You smother down the urge to heave a loud and heavy sigh at the clingy characteristics heâs displaying today and decide to play nice.
Gojoâs always been one to be playful, perhaps even a bit pushy at times but it was all in good nature. However, for some reason, his antics have reached a whole new level today.Â
Emotions were running high among staff and students alike. Some are more potent and⊠persistent than others.
âYouâll be fine,â you assure, patting his arm half-heartedly, âand I will certainly be fine. Everything will be just fine.â
In the middle of your sentence from the corner of your eye, you spot another one of your seniorsâ Geto Suguru. You watch him step out from a conversation with two classmates of yours (Haibara and Nanami) and is now trekking his way over to where you and Gojo occupy the front steps.
âGeto-senpai!âÂ
Geto greets you warmly by placing a comforting hand on your head and gives you a reassuring pat once, then twice. The action leaves your hairstyle a little dishevelled, nonetheless, thereâs a small smile tugging at your lips.
Youâve only interacted with Geto a sparse number of times outside of class or at the end of the school day. Whenever you both would cross paths you appreciated how he would regard your presence with temperance. It always left you feeling at ease. Youâll miss him.Â
Youâll especially miss how he was so quick to offer you and Haibara snacks from the vending machines on campus.
Gojo emits a pathetic squawk at the special name drop.
Pale, white brows are pinched tightly together with faux betrayal. âHow come he gets honorifics but I donât?!â he complains once Getoâs within earshot.Â
âI see that Satoru's already startedâŠâ
Though Geto was talking to no one in particular, Shoko chips in given that she bore witness to Gojoâs incessant pestering toward you ever since the home bell rang. âYou missed the part where he blocked her from getting to the lockers for a good several minutes.â Unzipping her bag, she carelessly shoves her diploma into it.Â
âBut anyway, Iâm gonna head out for a smoke. Iâll catch you guys later.â Before departing, Shoko stretches her hand towards you and gives your arm an affectionate squeeze. âGet home safe, âkay? Donât let these guys keep you out too long.â
Which reminded youâŠ
âGojo, this has been fun and allâŠâ Being rag-dolled around by your upperclassman across campus has been anything but fun. âBut I really should start heading home now.â
You wanted to beat the rush hour of students and working-class alike trying to go home on a late Thursday afternoon. Looking for empty seats on the 4:25 PM train was brutal and you did not have the energy to stand the entire ride home.
Sensing your air of urgency, he eventually relents. Heaving a dramatic sigh, Gojo steps back a few and gives you some space. Â
âGimme a second, yeah?â He rummages around in his uniform pocket, searching for something. It only lasts about a second before he pulls out his flip phone.
âSuguru!â A curt upward nod of Gojoâs head is the only warning Geto gets before he tosses his cell toward his best friend to catch. Youâre appalled that he catches it so easily with the little to no notice that was given. âTake a picture of us.â
âŠHuh?
Your brows drew close-knit together with confusion. âWhat are yâ?!â Before you can even finish your question, youâre pulled tightly into Gojoâs side.Â
His arms circle your neck once more, but this time, he uses the opportunity of your close proximity to tip his head to the side and knock it against your own.Â
âSmile,â Gojo murmurs into your ear, his slender fingers pinching at your cheek prodding for you to plaster on a sugary smile for the picture.
You donât have enough time to register, let alone recover from how his lips faintly brushed against your skin, Gojoâs already obnoxiously yelling âCheese!â towards the awaiting camera. Â
Snapping the photo Geto sports a lazy grin admiring his work. âLooks good,â he says before he tosses the phone back to its owner.Â
Youâre still reeling over the gentle graze of Gojoâs lips against your cheek, too dazed to digest whatâs going on around you. What. In. The hell. Just happened???Â
Sputtering out a laugh, Gojo grins down at the image on his phone. âWhatâs with that face youâre making, huh?â
Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Gojo curiously. Whatever was in that picture that made him smile that wide couldnât have been good. âWhat do you mean?â You question, stepping closer to see what he was referring to on his screen.
Gojo tips his cell over and shows you the photo Geto took. There you both are in grain, Gojo looking the most lively out of you two. Despite the quality of the camera, you can see the proud and happy smile he wears compared to your frazzled and confused expression.
If anything, it looked like you were the one who was graduating and he so happened to snag a photo with you before your big send-off.
âI wasnât readyâŠâ you grumbled, looking away from his phone.
Thereâs a faint smile lingering on his face, blue eyes still trained on the screen. His voice's cadence grows warm and carries a small hint of affection.
âThat face of yours is what Iâm gonna miss the most.â
SUMMER 2009Â
To no oneâs surprise, you and Gojo kept in close contact, even after graduating high school.Â
Well⊠More so Gojo kept in contact with you. Consistently.Â
Whenever he can.
He was there during your spring graduation (shocker), much to the elation of the entire female population from your graduating class. Looking back, the number of times he stopped to pose with random students around the school when he came to greet you was absurd.
Youâll also never forget how loud he cheered when your name was called despite Principal Yaga telling the audience to hold their applause and hollers until after the ceremony.
Fast forward to the summer of â09 where Gojo consistently seeks your presence to go and hang out with him now that you have a freed-up schedule. Whether it's with him alone or with Geto and Shoko, you can always rely on him to shoot you a âu busy?â text an hour before dragging you out for the rest of the day.
âSooo,â you start slowly.
Your eyes skim across the playground, watching the few children who were there amble and climb on the jungle gym before you. The sun was beginning to descend below the skyline, and hues of warm orange press onto your features casting you and your surroundings in a soft glow.Â
âYouâre a⊠guardian now,â you state, eyeing how Gojo stretches his legs out beside you.Â
You both sit at a park bench, the chorus of laughter and playful shrieks surround you as you watch Megumiâ a kid Gojo now supposedly looks afterâ poke mindlessly at something buried beneath the playgroundâs sand.
âYup!â he chirps, but then itâs swiftly followed by a hesitant, âWell, sorta kindaâŠâ
Thereâs a mental warfare going on in his mind as he combs through the various explanations he can give you, searching for one that would be both concise and easy for you to digest.
âTo put it simply, from here on out Iâm going to be a constant in Megumi and Tsumikiâs life.â
You think of the step-sibling duo. Theyâre the sweetest pair of children youâve had the delight of coming across, and nowâŠ
âTheyâre doomed,â you say with pity, your gaze still focused on the youngest Fushiguro.Â
Gojo gasps in disbelief at your bold accusation with his hand flying to his chest, clearly having taken offence. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?!â he asks.
But before you could give him a smart alec answer, the cheerful exclamation of your name pulls your attention elsewhere. The soft thump of Tsumikiâs shoes approaching prompts you to smile brightly. With open arms, the girl practically throws herself at you and giggles.
You give her cheek an affectionate squeeze. Despite her being in the second grade, you couldnât help but coddle her. âWhy hello, Tsumiki!âÂ
It takes her a few moments to finally release you from the hug, backing up a bit she glances up at you. âWhere were you? I missed you on Tuesday, the swings werenât fun without you!â she says, pouting.
âI wasnât feeling the best, so I had to turn down Gojoâs invite to meet you guys at the park that day.â
Upon hearing all the commotion, Megumi spots Tsumiki talking to you a few steps from the play area. It prompts the young boy to walk over and join you three at the bench. He nods his head over at his step-sister and says, âShe thought you guys broke up.â
Huh?
You blink rapidly. âBrokeâ Broke up!?â You squawk, the inflection of your voice rising at the âupâ part.
Where could she have possibly gotten that idea from? You and Gojo werenât even dating!
Gathering your composure you plaster on a sweet smile, ready to explain to the young pair that you and Gojo werenât together like that before a heavy arm comes hunkering down onto your shoulders. âEven if she tried, she canât get rid of me that easily,â Gojo comments.
Christ.
Tsumiki claps her hands together in glee at this revelation. âYay! âCause I like you!â she confesses. âI thought Iâd have to deal with Gojo and his friend with the big ears pushing me on the swings forever.â And with that, the girlâs already off running to the big yellow slide, pulling Megumi along in her wake.
The sweet smile you wear grows more and more strained the longer you two sit there on that damned bench with Gojoâs arm still lodged around you like it belonged there.Â
Long delicate fingers drum themselves along your bare shoulder which leaves a tingling sensation that lingers against your skin.
âGojo SatoruâŠâ you hiss between clenched teeth.
Your hand creeps up to give his knee a mean pinch, but as always, Gojo reads your movements like a damn book and catches your hand in his before that could happen. âHm?â
âWhat do you mean âHmâ?â You gesture in the general direction of where the kids are playing. You feel your brows start to pinch together. âWhy would you tell them that?!â
âItâs true though, no?â Snowy white wisps of hair fall in front of his eyes shaded by his signature round sunglasses. âWe havenât âbroken upâ and weâre still together. Just not in their understanding of it.â
âYouâ! Thatâs notââ You flounder for words, trying to spit out why he canât go around inadvertently feeding into the imagination of whatever relationship Tsumiki and Megumi thought you two had. But you come up blank.
âYouâre irritating, you know that?â you say, as you try (and fail) at removing his arm which still rests comfortably around your shoulders, pressing you tight against him. âYouâll wind up confusing them.â
An easy smile slips onto his lips as he observes Tsumiki and Megumi scramble up the slides. âRelax,â he responds. âTheyâre smart kids.â
And until it was time for the Fushiguros to go home, there you two sat underneath the thinning ochre sky. Stuck under the guise of an unspoken relationship.
WINTER 2011
Being the âmiddlemanâ between two people who are so obviously into each other but cannot figure out how to hang around each other normally was all too common for Shoko.
Itâs a shame that Geto wasnât available to come down and hang out with the three of you tonight, he wouldâve revelled in getting a kick out of this expected yet unexpected⊠turn of events.
Brought in as a buffer between you two, with an unlit cigarette dangling loosely from her lips Shoko leaned back in her chair and watched the buzzing scene before her unfold with bemused eyes.Â
Underneath the comforting golden glow of the restaurantâs hanging table light, Gojo picks at the cookie dough chunks that litter your plate to which you turn a blind eye. Now, Shoko couldâve easily brushed this occurrence off, seeing that friends often eat from each other's share of food all the time.
But something was... different.
With Gojo seated to your left inside the booth, he neatly cuts up a piece of his soft, creamy cheesecake and leverages the small serving on his spoon. âHere, try some of mine,â he says.
Harmless, right?Â
So, you reach for your own spoon to retrieve the sample of dessert that he was offering you. But without any hesitation, Gojo lifts his cutlery to your lips and prods the food toward your mouth.
There was no way that he intended on doing this right here, right now. In front of Shoko especially.
âSay, âAhhhâ!â
Concern creases your brow when Gojo continues to press the spoon against your lips, idly humming as he waits for you to open your mouth so he can spoon feed you as if he were your mother. A delicate, yet sure hand cupping your chin and everything.
He was being serious.
From your peripheral, you catch the slow spread of a Cheshire-like grin creeping onto Shokoâs face.
You press your fingers onto Gojoâs wrist and frown. Trying to retreat from his hand, a peal of nervous laughter bubbles out from you at his display of reckless affection at the table. âGive me a brââ
Gojo uses the opportunity of your uncertain state to slip his sharing of the Japanese cheesecake into your mouth in the middle of your sentence. Your eyes widen a small fraction at its creamy taste, prompting him to comment, âItâs good, right?â
The cigarette threatens to slip from Shokoâs mouth, as her lips slightly gape at what just happened before they curve into a soft smile. Her brown eyes are warm with⊠something. Itâs as if she knew something that you didnât. Â
âEhhhâŠâ Is all she says before youâre already jumping down her throat to clear up any misunderstandings.
âItâs nothing!â you supply in a rushed manner. Your main objective was to simply imply that this was nothing for her to lose her head over. Hell, even the friendliest of friends feed each other all the time! Right?
But at your remark, Gojoâs mouth downturns into a cute little pout. âWhat do you mean, ânothingâ?â From the corner of your eye you glance at how heâs fixed another spoonful of the dessert, and it's hovering in your direction.
âSatoââ Fuck.
You quickly correct yourself on your mistake, and school your voice to have a bit more edge to it. Despite that, you donât overlook how hard Gojoâs beaming at you. âGojo, not now.â
âEhhh?â Shoko exclaims once again, but this time the cadence of her voice has changed. Itâs gained an amused note to its tune. âYou call him Satoru now? Since when?â
âIâve been begging her to use it for the longest time ever,â Gojo answers on your behalf, and he ignores your mutter for him to please stop talking in favour of jabbing an accusatory finger at you. âYou know how painful it was to see you be all chummy and on a first-name basis with everyone but me?â
Lord. Youâve forgotten how dramatic he could be.Â
Thereâs a teasing glint in Shokoâs eye that you quite donât like, and her lips purse heavy with consideration at his comment. âYou make him beg?â
Groaning, you cross your arms against the table and bury your face. You canât with them. Your two former upperclassmen were the bane of your existence right about now.Â
âIâll kill you both,â you mutter, your speech muffled by the fabric of your sweater.
A FEW YEARS LATER
A calming blue nightly glow ripples through your curtains, casting your room in nothing but moonlight. Amidst the serene silence, you idly stare at your screen and read the text Satoru sent you right as the clock struck midnight.
Satoru: Are you home?
What an ominous question. Your eyes skim over his message again. And then again.Â
âŠAnd again.
Thumbing through your phone, you glance at the time displayed on the top of your screen. Itâs been five minutes since youâve opened his text. You should probably send something back soon before he quintuple texts you.
As youâre about to respond right when Satoru immediately shoots you another.
Satoru: I KNOW you see this!!! ( `Ď )
Satoru: Hurry hurry hurry
You: yes... why?
Now itâs his turn to take a while to respond. First, it takes a couple of minutes for you to receive that pinging chime; indicating that heâs texted you backâ which isnât too bad because you like to consider yourself a pretty patient person.Â
But then five minutes slowly turn into ten, and that ten becomes a whopping fifteen until finally he answers.
Satoru: Open your door.
What the fuck.
Satoru: Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl
So thatâs why he took so long to reply. The man was coming all the way down from his place to come and visit you!
You: you're actually insane.
You: hold on!
Rising from your seated position on your bed, you stalk over to your bedroom door and are about to exit when you spot yourself in a nearby mirror.
âOh!â you exclaim to no one in particular. You canât open the door for him looking like⊠this.
Wait, why do you care about what Satoru thinks of your clothes?!
 Heâs seen you wearing much worse. Like that one instance in first-year, when you had to borrow Getoâs spare parachute pants because Haibara accidentally spilt his soda all over your lap during an informal outing with everyone.
Yeesh.
Shaking your head, you slip out of your room and pad down your apartment hallway wearing your discoloured oversized band tee and shorts. Upon reaching your door, your hand hesitates on the doorknob.Â
It stays like that for a few seconds until the doorknob is rattled in a fashion thatâs all too persistent, annoying, and all fromâ
âSatoru!â you hiss, swinging the door open. Youâre ready to chew him out on how much of a nuisance he may be for your sleeping neighbours a few doors down. But your looming reprimand falls short on your tongue once your eyes take in the man facing you.
âHappy birthday!âÂ
In the darkness, the soft glow of sparklers illuminates your features and highlights the exquisite details of a beautifully decorated cake held in Satoruâs hands.
Wordlessly, your hand aimlessly searches for the light switch to brighten up your hallway so that you may get a better look at whatâs on the cake.Â
Something trembles in your chest and it hurts a little to breathe. But not in the way that you detest.
Heâs cute.
Gojo Satoru is so heartbreakingly cute.
On the cake, you see that damn grainy photo you two took on his graduation day back in â08. The photo you love to hate.
Wetness springs to your eyes from the entire gesture, from the fact that he ensured he was the first one through text and physically to wish you a happy birthday, and from the fact that heâs here right now.
âHeyâŠâ Thereâs concern creasing Satoruâs expression as he pokes his head down a little to get a better read on you. âAre you crying?â
You sniff back your tears and grunt out a watery, âNo⊠Shut up and come in already.â
Ushering him inside, Satoru hands you your cake, toes off his shoes and heads straight to your living room. Good to see that heâs already making himself at home.
Plopping himself down onto your couch you hesitantly follow behind him, suddenly feeling like a stranger in your own home. âCome, come!â He waves a welcoming hand at you and pats the seat beside him, insinuating that you should sit.
With immediate interest, you do as he says and take a seat beside him after you position your cake in the middle of your coffee table. The couch feels so small now, with him spread out like that.
Pulling out something from his pocket with one hand and tugging off the party hat from his head with the otherâ had he been wearing that the whole time?â Satoru clears his throat. âBefore you cry again, I gotta make sure youâre able to see your present first.â
He takes your head in his hands, and you realize his fingertips are a little cold as they press on your warm cheeks. Stretching the string down from the party hat a bit, he places it under your chin and snaps the cardboard cone into place on your head.
Breathing a noise of satisfaction seemingly content with how you look, a cheeky grin dances across Satoruâs face. âPerfect. You can now go ahead and open your gift,â he says, handing you a small black velvet box with the company logo HW scrawled across it.
âWait, what,â you deadpan.
This canât be what you think it is.
âItâs not a ring!â Satoru blurts. But composes himself seconds later with a quip of, âUnless you want it to be?â
Har. Har. Very funny.
You disregard what heâs said and peel open the box with caring hands.
Inside was the most extravagant necklace youâve ever laid eyes on. A diamond pendant laid bare inside the box in the shape of a forget-me-not with your birthstone at the flower's centre.Â
That couldâve easily cost him a little over one million yen if you think about it deeply.
âSatoru!â you squeal.
Without thinking, you throw your arms around his neck and squeeze your longtime friend into your loving embrace. Satoruâs gift to you almost topples and sinks into the crevice of your couch had it not been for his quick hand to catch the necklace.
Your heartâs racing, and initially, his body goes rigid until he gradually relaxes under your hold. âYouâre crazy, âs too expensive!â you sparingly chastise him.Â
Satoru swallows hard and brings a careful arm up to reciprocate the hug. You feel the warm press of his arm against the thin material of your shirt.Â
âNothingâs too expensive if youâre involved,â you hear him murmur into your ear. âSo, donât worry âbout it.â
You give him one last bone-crushing squeeze, hoping that your rare show of physical touch does not go unnoticed and exemplifies how grateful you are. Pulling away from him you look him dead in the eyes. âThank you, seriously.â
Shrugging you off like it was no big deal as if he didnât blow double, maybe even triple the money the average Japanese businessman earns on a singular paycheque toward your necklace, Satoru casts you a gentle smile and changes the subject.Â
There would be no need to dwell on it any longer with whatâs to come.
âNowâŠâ He gives your lower back a soft pat. Once, and twice. âA birthday kiss from the birthday girl.â Satoru puckers out his lips and shuts his eyes real tight, making a huge show out of it.
For extra effect, he even hums a prolonged Mmm-ing sound to emphasize him waiting for you to initiate it.
Itâs a joke; you know heâs joking. He has a ridiculously long history of being overly affectionate with his teasings and whatnot.Â
But this time, you really do lean in and take said kiss from him.
Thereâs something incredibly adorable about this kiss that has your heart surging in your chest. Partly because itâs the first time that youâre kissing each other, but mostly because of how frigid and careful it is. It made you feel as if you were in high school all over again, trying a plethora of new things for kicks and giggles.
The tension was almost palpable, thick enough to suffocate the air he breathed. Even when you pulled away creating space between you both, Satoru still felt a lingering lump in his throat.
Cracking your eyes open, you see that Satoruâs own are blown wide. Piercing cerulean eyes stare unblinking at you. Normally, you wouldâve found that to be off putting as hell, had it not been for the slow rise of a blooming pink crawling up his neck.
âSorry,â you offer weakly. Sensing that you may have gone too far, you make an effort to scoot off his lap. But a determined arm holds you in place.
âAgain.â He swallows thickly, and your eyes follow that mesmerizing movement in his throat. âI⊠I didnât do it right. Please.â
And who are you to make him beg? So, you do as he says.
Leaning in, your lips press against Satoruâs once more. And this time, he has the sense to close his eyes and bask in it, not daring to let his nerves get the best of him (though heâd never admit it).Â
Slotting yourself to be more flushed against him, the tips of your noses brush and you feel Satoruâs hand smooth down your spine. The pads of his fingertips press onto your exposed skin peeking out from underneath the hem of your shirt bunched around your hips.
God, you wanted him bad.
Itâs abrupt, the way you push yourself off him and force yourself to stand on your feet, breaking the kiss. The rise and fall of your chest is a bit staggered and Satoruâs is too. Heâs all red-faced and his snow-white hair is a bit dishevelled, considering how many times youâve combed your fingers through it.
âDid I do something wrong?â
Cute.Â
That alone made you want to jump his bones even more.
You shake your head and get one good look at him before you leave him to head down your hallway. He looked perpetually enraptured by you, eyes hyper-focused on your every movement. âCome to my bedroom.â
Satoruâs stunned, the implications of your remark not lost on him.
And like a keen lost puppy, of course he follows. He joins you in your bedroom seconds after you and stands in the doorway, just kind of hovering there. Not sure of what to do.
Wait. Did he come here too fast? Did that make him look overly desperate? A million and one questions rush through Satoruâs mind as his neck grows red, stained with embarrassment, want⊠arousal.Â
Seeing how he seems to be short-wiring at your doorway, you beckon him to join you on the bed with your hand. Once he does, he sits extremely close next to you. His clothed thigh brushes against your bare one, which sends a jolt of electricity through you.
Your fingers find his nape once again and they stroke up on his fresh undercut, prompting him to shiver a bit. âWhyâre you so shy all of a sudden?â you question, your voice going gentle with a provoking edge to it.
Gaining some of his personality back, Satoru pinches your cheek. ââCause I didnât think youâd want to kiss me!â But his mean hand then turns soft and slides along your jaw, his thumb rubbing smooth circles into the skin just below your ear.Â
âWell, Iâm here,â you say, scooting impossibly closer to the man beside you, âand wanting.â
Message received.
Hauling you onto his lap, Satoru cradles your face in both hands and kisses you deeply. Itâs full of emotion, expressing all the things heâs been wanting to say for the longest time. A trembled exhale escapes you, and itâs through that that Satoru uses the opportunity to slide his tongue alongside yours.Â
The kiss is frenzied, but so filled with love.
âSo you like me?â he asks, his breathing laboured.
âYes,â you bite, pushing him away from you and onto the mattress. âAs if swapping spit with you wasnât enough.â You guess youâll have to show him how much you undoubtedly like him, love him even, through other means.Â
He huffs a breath of laughter and drops his back onto your bed. Underneath you, you see Satoruâs eyes sparkle as he watches you have your way with him.Â
But somethingâs up.
His eyes climb up a little higher and this time, he barks out a real laugh.
You still have that piece of fuck sitting on your head. You probably look stupid as hell right now.
Discerning that youâre about to raise your hand to your head, Satoru holds your wrist in his palm. Thereâs something bright that gleams behind those alluring pools of blue, warm and tender. He bites back a smile. âThe birthday hat stays on during sex.â
You scrunch your nose at him. âYouâre so dumb,â you growl with artificial frustration and tear off the cone-shaped hat from your head, tossing it into the depths of your room. He whines at its loss, but youâre quick to placate him with a slow roll of your hips into his lap.
Satoruâs jaw clenches and his hands fly to your waist, gripping you tightly as you continue to grind yourself down onto his erection. Your ministrations pull a wanton whimper from his lips, one that has you grinding with more purposeâ the purpose of hearing that sound again.
âDo you like that?â you ask.
He nods, not trusting himself to speak, else heâll let out a pathetic string of moans.
âI know, me too.â Satoruâs dick lurches in the confines of his pants as he watches you dry-hump him into the mattress slowly, your eyes shining with lust. Fuck, he could get hard just off your expression alone. âIt feels reeeally nice being up on you like this,â you continue.
You have a fucking dirty mouth. One that Satoruâs growing more and more addicted to the more you speak.
Thereâs an incessant throbbing between your legs that you canât quite alleviate. While rolling your hips into Satoruâs lapâ with his occasional thrust to match your movementsâ felt good, it can only do so much. You wanted and needed more.
And so did Satoru, because heâs already pulling at the waistband of his pants. His thumb loops two layers and tugs both his pants and boxers down, revealing his toned V-line.Â
Fuck.
You fall victim to Satoruâs enamoured gaze from below, which makes you squirm hot with arousal. âTake it off,â he commands.
He wants you to strip him of his clothes.Â
Caught taking a startled breath, you ignore the wicked, handsome smile that slinks onto his face as you slip off his lap so you may curl your fingers around his waistband and pull. Your pussy clenches when his erect dick springs into view, and the heat pumping through your veins runs a little hotter.
You shiver at how pretty and filling his dick looks. After a few seconds of openly ogling at his lap, Satoru clears his throat which successfully gets you to drag your eyes back up to his face.
âWhile that was nice,â he starts, leveraging himself up onto his elbows and grins at your cute error, âI meant you, baby. Take it off.â
âOh.âÂ
Seriously? Just âOhâ?
Mentally facepalming, you shimmy your shorts down your legs along with your panties. They pool down at your ankles and you step out of them to stand between his legs.
Fully sitting up, Satoru pats his lap; encouraging you to sit on him again. âCâmere.â
You crawl onto his lap, but you donât sit down fully. Hovering a few inches away from his cock, your knees press on each side of his thighs, trapping him in.Â
Thereâs no way in hell you were gonna sit down right now, knowing that if you do, youâd be pressing your bare pussy onto his naked thigh and heâd feel everything. Exposing how wet you are.
Humming, Satoru lifts the hem of your oversized top to your breasts and sighs. âPretty,â he murmurs before he leans forward and captures your nipple into his mouth.
You gasp harshly at the titillating feeling. Your hands balance on his shoulders for support, as he rolls your nipple on his tongue.
âSaâ Ah!â You cry out. The hand between your legs startles you and has you whimpering in the open air.
âYouâre wet,â he comments, slipping a finger against your slick pussy.
âShut up about itâŠâ
But he doesnât. Another finger joins the first and delves down between your lips, gradually easing them inside you. They push against your walls, curling in a way that has you gasping into his neck. âYou got wet from grinding alone, huh?âÂ
A breath stutters out of your mouth and you rock yourself against his hand. You canât take this anymore. You want more. âDo you have a condom?â you ask.
âIââ he groans when your hand slides between you two, your fingers curl around his dick and stroke his tip along your leaking slit. âI didnât bring one, because I didnât think weâdââ
Oh.
Biting your bottom lip, you sling a heavy arm across Satoruâs shoulders. You meet his hungry gaze with one of your own and inch closer toward his dick that rests against his stomach. What youâre about to do could be risky, but at this given moment you couldnât find it in you to be overly stressed about it.
âNo worries,â you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, âI trust you enough to pull out in time.â And like that, you push down on him and ease Satoruâs cock into your aching cunt, making him bottom out inside you completely.
Youâre so wet and slippery that it took little to no effort for him to slide inside. The noise of your slick sticking to where you two meet at the hips has you two moaning softly in unison.
The harsh mutter of your name echoes off your bedroom walls and goes straight to your cunt. âSo tight,â he grits out behind clenched, white teeth.
Each time you slide up and down on his cock, Satoru grows more unrestrained with his vocal appreciation of how well you take him. Desperate little moans escape him each time your sweet cunt squeezes him of all heâs worth.
You were no better. Choppy, broken whimpers can be heard from you, loving how he stretches your walks with your length. He fits perfectly inside you like your cunt was destined for this moment, for him alone.Â
âLet me fuck you,â Satoru blurts out. He was losing it, and he could feel him tipping closer and closer to the edge of release.
âYou areâ Ugn!â you say weakly when his hands grab your ass and he stands, lifting you with him as if it were nothing. Kicking off his bottoms, Satoru props you on your back against your mattress.
 Crawling between your legs, he positions the crown of his cock to press against your opening. âNo,â he drawls, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other propped beside your head. âLet me fuck you.â
He pushes in and you swear you see stars.Â
Satoru pistons himself faster and faster inside of you, rocking your bodies against the mattress which makes your wooden headboard tap noisily against your drywall.
You fear your neighbours may have some⊠less than pleasant words to share with you about the noise tomorrow morning.Â
âAh! Fuuuckingâ shit!â You wail. Euphoric tears start prickling at the corner of your eyes. âDonât stop, please!â
The pleasure melts through you when Satoru presses down harder into you, his hand finding the back of your right knee and hikes your leg around his waist so that he can fill you at a new angle.
âBaby,â he murmurs into your neck. He says it like youâve been his for years. âSay my name.â
âSâSatoru!â
Laughing a little, probably too fucked out of his mind, Satoru removes his face from your neck and presses a hot, searing kiss onto your lips.
You yelp when he drives his cock more harshly into you, growing more desperate with the urgency to come inside you.
Riding his high, Satoru says the first thing that comes to mind, which is a long drawn-out, âHaaaâŠâ
What Satoru meant to accomplish was to wish you another âHappy Birthdayâ, but of course, it all gets garbled up in his throat due to his approaching orgasm and comes out sounding fucking obscene.
Thatâs what gets you.
You come hard, your back bowing off the bed. Satoru, remembering your initial statement about how you trust him to pull out, does exactly that. Albeit, he did it at the very last second, but you avoided a pregnancy scare. So you canât be mad.
Thick ropes of his cum splash across your bare belly and some get on your top. Youâre hyperaware of how it trickles down your abdomen, some dipping into your belly button.
Wow.
Breathing hard and heavy, both coated in sweat among⊠other sensual fluids, Satoru rolls onto his back.
âStuck with me for life, huh?â he asks, delicate fingers intertwined with yours.Â
You hum. âSeems soâŠâ you agree quietly.Â
Now that you think about it, there hasnât ever been a moment where Gojo Satoru hadnât been present in your life, ever since meeting him during your high school days.
You two lay like that for some time, soaking in each otherâs company until the early traces of morning light ripple through your curtains.
Youâre about ready to shut your eyes until your thoughts are accosted by something you offhandedly forgot.Â
âSatoru?â you begin, tone nice and sweet.
âHm?â
You sit up slowly so you can peer down at his blissed-out face. âBy chance, was the cake you got for me made out of ice cream?â
You know how deep his love for sweets goes. You just pray and hope to whatever higher power that he chose the safe route and chose a normal caâ
ââŠYeah, why?â
Jumping out of bed, you rush to the living room where the cake is probably spilling its guts out all over your expensive, mahogany coffee table. âYou IDIOT!âÂ
A string of curses follows you out into the hallway, as Satoru sits on your bed confused.
âWhatâd I do?!â
Whether you liked it or not, you were stuck with this bumbling idiot if he had any say in the matter, an invisible string keeping you two bound.
And maybe it wasnât that bad.
Even if itâs at the cost of your „20,000 table.
if you read to the end we're making out.
© do not copy/plagiarize/translate/use ai on my work.
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo fluff#gojo smut#jjk smut#jjk fluff#divider by cafekitsune#sahkuna!
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how long do you think it took before dean was like. 'am i.... not aging anymore?'
#shitpost#like he can look in a mirror he KNOWS his body is fucked up#but like. 20 years? 50?#how long before he realizes like. 'oh i might actually live indefinitely'#because he has NO ONE ELSE THERE TO TELL HIM#HE HAS NO IDEA AND NO LIKE. HE DOESN'T HAVE GHOUL PEERS OR ANYTHING.#and like. does he think about WHY? does he even try to think about why?#i have so many questions about this guy#the fact he's been sitting in hell for over 200 years for funsies is insane and hilarious.#and like that's SO wack. dog has been there for awhile but basically only as long as elijah. or whatever.#i dont think he ever answers or says the first time he went there? wait#wait he does he heard vera too iirc. THEN met elijah#and christine hasn't been there long at all lol#so it's like. dean: over 200 years#elijah and dog: MAYBE like. one year. tops. probably less.#christine: two weeks or whatever#like. HELLO.
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Harvest Moon
Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 3,100 Summary: It's Joel's birthday and you're going to make sure he has a good one. Warnings: smut, fluff, dancing in the kitchen to neil young, unprotected p in v, public-ish sex (but under a blanket), talking to neighbors while sitting on joel miller's cock, apocalypse birth control (pulling out), fingering, riding, joel has a filthy mouth, no use of y/n, not beta read.
A/N: I spent most of tonight adding 2,500 words to this barely written piece. Now it's two hours past my bedtime, but HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOEL MILLER!!! This can absolutely be read as a standalone, but, this is yet another singular smut entry for my Elks babies. This was originally going to be posted as a birthday celebration chapter for that, but I really wanted to give Joel his gift on his actual birthday. Happy birthday you gorgeous old man, you. Hope you like the porn I wrote about you. â€ïžđ„Ž
Masterlist
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Youâve been looking for the CD since you learned of Joelâs love of the song. Tommy did it, he actually did it. Somehow by some miracle he found the CD.Â
âNot a problem,â he gives you that same shy Miller lopsided grin. âMilt had it. Told me to tell you itâs yours to keep⊠said he owes you since you were his daughterâs favorite teacher ân all.â
âThanks Tommy,â you say, barely being able to contain your excitement, âthis is going to be amazing.â
âOf course. Should be thanking you really,â he shrugs. âItâs about time he had a good birthday.â
â
Joel said heâd be helping fix one of the greenhouses today, but youâre still scared to ruin the surprise as you unlock his door.Â
âJoel?â you yell out into the quiet, seemingly empty house.Â
No answer. Perfect.
Quick steps lead you to his CD player, the same one he first showed you how much he cared for you with. Now, itâs your turn to show him just how much he means to you. The disc tray opens and you place the CD into the system, you canât wait to surprise him.Â
â
âMore coffee?â you ask, holding up the percolator.
He nods and smiles, happily sitting at the table full from the steak, potatoes, and cornbread you made him. He had insisted on sharing the meat, but you refused, happy to let him enjoy the first taste of steak in over twenty years.
Your friend Helen got her boyfriend Greg to cut a small filet of steak from the newly butchered cow. She handed it to you with a knowing smile. Itâs nice to see everyone accept yours and Joelâs relationship.Â
You lean over his lap, and top his coffee cup off.Â
âHave I ever told you how much I love seeing you in a dress? Canât believe you got yourself all dolled up for me.â He surprises you by pulling you onto his lap.Â
âCareful!â you shriek, quickly placing the carafe on the table. âYes, you have⊠many times. That's why I wore it.â
âHmph,â he hums happily, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping securely around you. âThank you for dinnerâand everything sweetheart.â He presses a soft kiss to your skin.Â
âThatâs not all,â you giggle as he nips at a sensitive spot under your chin.Â
He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. âYouâre so good to me.âÂ
You clutch his chin tilting his head up to meet your eyes. âYou deserve a happy birthday.â His big brown eyes search yours, like heâs forcing himself to believe it. âJoel, you do.âÂ
He rests his forehead against yours. âI love you,â he sighs warmly.
âI love you too. Now, I have something else for you,â you slip off his lap and head towards your backpack. âItâs something small, I promise.â
You return with a bundle of fabric held behind your back.Â
âRemember when you tore your favorite flannel and you tossed it in the rag bag?â
You place the flannel in his hands.
âWell, a certain girl named Ellie grabbed it for me. I mended it, reinforced the buttons, and sewed up a couple holes. Itâs not perfect, but itâs fixed.â
He holds the flannel up and inspects it. âThis isâwowâthisâI canât believe it.â He looks up at you, his eyes wide with adoration. âI was wearing this that first day I saw you, yâknow? This is so sweet sweetheart, thank you.âÂ
He likes it, you thank your lucky stars. Your handsome Joel, here with you on his birthday, allowing himself to be taken care of.Â
You know the story of his birthday, youâve retold the tale to yourself every night as you anticipated this day. Afraid to upset him, afraid to cross a line, but all youâve wanted to do is give him the world he so deserves.Â
It wasnât just you who thought of him today. Itâs Tommy finding the CD. Itâs Helen getting you the steak. Itâs Ellie grabbing the flannel from the rag bag. He deserves all of it.Â
âYouâre welcome,â you say with a kiss to his forehead. âNow, put it on. I have one more surprise.â
He slips the flannel on as you head to the living room. The CD waits in the stereo. You turn it on.
The soft guitar and brushes of a drum fills the air as you turn the volume up. Â
Joelâs huge smile greets you when you walk back into the kitchen.
âYouâ how?â he asks, unbelieving.Â
âAsked Tommy and he found it for me. Milt had his greatest hits. Now,â you reach your hand out to him, âmay I have this dance birthday boy?â
He chuckles and takes your hand, pulling you into him. The two of you sway along to the music, his strong arms enveloping you as your cheek rests against his warm chest. You can hear the steady thump of his heart beneath your ear. Your hands slip around his broad back, one of them trailing up to play with the soft curls at the nape of his neck. He sighs deeply before placing a tender kiss against the top of your head.Â
âThis is my favorite song,â he murmurs.
The sun has long since set, the singular lamp above the sink casts a warm dark amber glow across the kitchen Your shadows dance across the walls as you sway. He smells of coffee and sweet corn bread, like home and comfort.Â
He starts to hum then softly sing along. His deep voice reverberates through your ear, pressed against his heart.Â
âBecause Iâm still in love with you, I wanna see you dance again, Because Iâm still in love with you, On this harvest moonâ
You can hear the contentment in his voice as he holds you closer. Moving in synchronicity with each other, gently stepping across the small kitchen as the harmonica solo plays. If you could stay in this moment forever you would.
You tilt your head up, and his eyes meet yours. The smile he gives lights his face. Lines crinkling at the corner of his eyes, dimple sitting deep on his cheek, mustache curving with his plush upturned lips. He serenades you with the same lyrics as before, looking deep in your eyes.Â
âBecause Iâm still in love with you, I wanna see you dance again, Because Iâm still in love with you, On this harvest moonâ Â
His lips meet yours, thanking you with a gentle kiss. The man you love and adore, feels good on his birthday all because of you.Â
The song plays on repeat, the two of you dance together, Joel gently hums and sings along as the harvest moon rises above the mountains.Â
You gently pull away, unclasping his arms from around you.
âCome on birthday boy,â you say with a playful smile, âletâs go watch the stars.âÂ
â
You and Joel sit beneath a large plaid comforter on his porch. The early fall breeze that rolls down the mountainside leaves a chill in the air. The night sky is lit bright with the orange full moon. Most of Jackson is at the Harvest Moon Festival tonight, you can just make out the distant sounds of laughter and music flowing through the air from the main street on his porch. Ellie was especially thrilled about the teen sleepover happening at the Bison tonight, giving you both this rare moment of solitude in his backyard. She told Joel she knew he was in good hands with you for his birthday.Â
And he isâor at least youâre in his good hands.Â
âOh, god,â you softly whisper into the night, youâre so tense from keeping yourself quiet. The stars are a little harder to see tonight thanks to the ambient glow of the bright moon, and yet you see stars whenever you squeeze your eyes shut while fighting the urge to moan. Joelâs deft, large thumb rubs circles against your clit while you ride two of his thick fingers.Â
Heâs driving you crazy like this. His large body and the blanket wrapped around you, overheating all of your senses in this chilly night. Youâre completely covered, nobody would know that your legs are spread wide, one draped over his thick thigh while his hand is stuffed up your dress making you quake as he finger fucks you.
âEasy now, easy now,â he says nuzzling against your neck, his large nose charting a course across the sensitive skin. âGotta remember where we are. You're the sweet, innocent teacher 'n librarian here. Lotta people look up to you, canât have them knowinâ what my girl really likes when sheâs with me.â Your hips slow their movement, he makes up for it by pumping you harder. âSee, I can help, just gotta let me know you want it baby.âÂ
âWant to takeâneyughâcare of you,â struggles out of your mouth.Â
âYouâre taking care of me right now, sweetheart, touching you is my favorite thing to do.âÂ
âWant to go inside⊠w-want toâwantâto, want to feel you in my mouth,â you grip the straining bulge underneath the fly of his jeans.Â
âNot yet,â he sighs deeply when you squeeze harder. âLike seeing your skin glow in the moonlight. What youâre doinâ now is enough, want to enjoy my night with you.â
Your hold tightens around his cock as you fight harder to suppress the urge to scream into the night. His fingers angle up hitting your most sensitive spot and you feel like you could explode. Youâll be the fireworks to celebrate Joelâs birthday. A whimper is fought by biting your lip, itâs so hard to not scream. His brown eyes look almost black in the low light as he watches you struggle and blink rapidly.Â
âShh baby, youâre doing so good, beinâ so quiet, donât ruin it now. If anybody was out right now they could walk right on by and theyâd have no idea what Iâm doing to you under here.â
Youâve never done anything like this, so out in the open. Jackson is a peaceful town full of law abiding citizens, and right now youâre sitting on the back of the porch of Joelâs house getting felt up by him.Â
âJoel⊠IâIâm gonnaââ
âCum for me baby.â His hot breath hits your lips before sealing his mouth against yours. Your cunt spasms against his thick fingers, you feel set alight by your orgasm, overheated and burning. Maybe youâre glowing just as bright as the moon. His tongue dances with yours, swallowing all of your gasps and cries. Youâre sure at this point, anybody that walked by would know exactly what was happening between the two of you. You donât care, all you want is to feel Joelâs cock inside you.
âWant you, Joel, want you so bad,â you mew as his fingers rub against your sensitive folds.Â
âOkay baby, okay.â His fingers slip from your warmth before he brings his soaked digits to his lips. His eyes flutter shut when he tastes you.Â
âSweeter than birthday cake,â he declares before raising his hips and pulling his jeans down with a grunt. âCome here. Come sit on me.â
Your legs spread wide as you straddle his large lap with your back pressed against the warmth of his chest. He grips himself and moves the half hard heft of his cock against your soaked core, swirling his tip back and forth across your clit.Â
âTell me you want my cock,â he whispers against your neck, licking a line up to your ear. âTell me baby.â
âI-I want your cockâI need your cock Joel,â you beg.Â
âI know you do darling,â he chuckles deeply, lining himself up to your entrance.
The sounds of the festival go silent and the bright orange moon fades as you slowly sink down on his cock. Taking all of him, thick and throbbing into your tight cunt.Â
âThatâs my good girl,â he grits. âYour sweet pussy is taking me so well, isnât she?â
Clutching your bottom lip tightly between your teeth, you try to fight the moan his words bring up.
âOh, you must like that. Youâre squeezinâ me so hard sweetheart.âÂ
You set a pace, riding him gently under the moonlight, his fingers gripping your hips tight.Â
His hot breaths hit the back of your neck as your back molds even tighter to his front. His hand snakes down to rub your clit, small circles making your body meld even more against him.. The rhythm of his fingers and cock spearing you pulls another orgasm down from the ethers of space. Shivering, sweating, and stuttering Joelâs name, youâre trying to be good for him, trying to not scream into the night.Â
âThatâs my girl, grippinâ my cock so good, cumminâ all over me. Getting yourself nice and slippery so I can fuck you real good, huh?âÂ
âMmf,â is the only response you can muster. Your cunt flutters around him, and he doesnât relent, slowly fucking into you while his finger pulses against your clit.Â
The sound of two people conversing approaches. Your movements come to a halt, Joel stays still, his finger still resting against your sensitive bundle of nerves and his cock sitting deep inside you. Hank and Billie, the nice couple that lives three houses down from Joel, walk past the porch. Both look over and wave a greeting. Fuck.
âBeautiful moon, isnât it?â Hank says with a smile.Â
âQuite.â Joel responds. The rumble of his loud voice radiates through you. Â
âYou guys get any barbecue tonight?â Hank asks. âIt was really goââ
âWe stayed in,â Joel gruffly responds. He subtly knocks his hips into you causing a wave of sensation to hit against your already cock-drunk pussy.
Your nostrils flare with a deep exhale. Â
âOh, well, there will probably be leftovers tomorrow,â Billie offers. âTell them I sent you and theyâll give you the good stuff.â
âThanks Billie,â you breathlessly reply, wishing on every star youâve seen behind your eyelids, theyâll leave. âWe appreciate it.â
âBest be getting home,â Hank says, grabbing Billieâs hand. âWe both had a bit too much to drink!âÂ
Oh thank god.
âEnjoy your night,â Joel says plainly as he starts to slowly rock into you once they turn away.Â
To the eyes of your neighbors, you and Joel just look like a normal couple enjoying the night sky cuddled together under a blanket⊠little do they know heâs filling you with his thick cock under the shield.Â
âThat was close,â he whispers against your ear before nipping it.Â
Your giggle is cut off by a moan when he fucks into you harder.Â
âGuess we shouldnât take our time, donât want to get caught, now do we?â he asks.Â
âWe can justânyuhâgo inside,â you plead, wanting to be able to moan and scream Joelâs name in the comfort of his home.Â
âGimme one more baby, gimme one more,â he grunts against your neck. âAnd then Iâll take you into my home and fuck you.â
His hips pound against your body, his thrusts bucking into your core harder. âThatâs it baby, you really want me to take you in and lay you down ân fuck you, donât you?âÂ
âMmhmm,â you moan, your stomach tightening and thighs trembling as the universe splinters around you. Your orgasm rockets through your body. Color turns to black and white, noise falls silent. All that exists is Joel Miller and his big cock shattering you into a million pieces like your own personal big bang on the back of his porch.Â
âGood girl,â he groans, âletâs take this party inside.â
â
The plaid comforter is laid out on the kitchen floor. Your wobbly legs move your still blissed-out body to Joelâs stereo, starting âHarvest Moonâ on repeat all over again.Â
You lean against the kitchen entrance, admiring Joel as he rests atop the blanket, naked and supporting himself on his elbows. No man over fifty should ever look as good as him. Broad shoulders frame his strong arms, his chest has a smattering of dark hair that trails down to the slight bulge of his stomach. His cock rests in between his legs, still hard and shining with your slick. Heâs so gorgeous, and heâs all yours.Â
âCome here sweetheart,â his voice is gruffer. âLay down next to me.â
His dick twitches as you walk to the blanket and settle beside him.Â
He moves over you, covering you with his warmth as he engulfs himself in your slick heat. Your legs instinctually wrap around his waist allowing him to take more.Â
âJoel,â you moan. The angle allows his cock to push farther in and your walls to tighten harder against him.Â
âOoh, youâre so fucking wet, you hear that?â he asks incredulously. The squelch of your pussy soundtracks along to the song quietly playing in the background. âSounds so fucking good baby.âÂ
He gasps when buries himself to the hilt, soaking the curly hairs around the base of him with your wet.
Your body trembles as your hips meet his, his cock sliding in and out of your cunt at a brutal pace.Â
He takes no time to own you now behind the walls of his home. Your hands clutch at his wide back, sobs and screams of his name echoing out into the air as Neil Young softly sings in the background.Â
Youâre so full of him. His body surrounding you, his lips against yours, his cock pounding into your accepting cunt, his name chanting out of your mouth.Â
âYou want it baby?â he growls against your neck, his cock pumping in and out of your hole at a speed no man over fifty should be able to ever reach. âYou want my cum?âÂ
âC-cum Joel,â you cry, tears sprouting from your eyes as your fourth orgasm launches through you.Â
He gasps your name, pulling out of your tremorous pussy and shooting thick white ropes of cum across your pussy and stomach.Â
His sweat is slick against your overheated body, youâre a mess of sweat, orgasm, and love.Â
He kisses you, his tongue licking against yours before he rolls off you. His chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. âFuck,â he pants, stretching his limbs out. âGonna feel this tomorrow.âÂ
âWell, you are another year older, old man,â you tease, curling up next to him.Â
âYeah,â he turns his head to look at you. âI guess I am,â he sighs. âThank you forâmy birthday andâall of this. I can never put into words how much it all means to me.âÂ
âSo I guess youâre still in love with me?â you tease.
âAlways. Especially on this harvest moon,â he returns your smile.Â
---
Tagging a couple people who had asked about this piece earlier this month: @almostfoxglove, @sawymredfox, @burntheedges, and @littlemisspascal đ©·đ
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal#joel miller fanfic#joel x reader#jackson joel#joel the last of us#joel miller tlou
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Jealousy - Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Sinner!Reader SMUT
Summary: Lucifer's jealousy emerges when your Ex from when you were alive enters the hotel in search of you. Lucifer makes sure to claim you as his.
Contents/Possible Warnings: P in V sex, dom!Lucifer, cream pie, Lucifer being possessive, marking, unprotected sex, degradation (it happens like once), SMUT, MDNI
A typical day in Hell was far from calm, so whenever a peaceful moment occurred, even a small one, you made sure to savor it, appreciating it for what it was. For example, you intended to let the wonderful moment you were currently in last for as long as you possibly could. You had been watching a movie in your room in the hotel, but by now your attention had turned away from the movie in question and onto Lucifer. The king of Hell had snuggled up closer to you than he already had been, his head resting on your shoulder as he watched the show.
The simple gesture made you melt, and you couldn't resist gently turning his face to look at you. Lucifer looked at you curiously, waiting for your next move. You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, enjoying the smile it brought to his face.
"Hmm, that was nice, but I think you missed, love." He leaned in, closing the gap between you two, kissing you lovingly. You moved to deepen the kiss andâ a knock came at the door. You parted from the kiss and looked towards your room door as Lucifer let out a disappointed sigh. "I'll make sure to give you as many kisses as you want later, alright?" You whispered to him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and answering the door.
"(Y/N)!" Charlie exclaimed in excitement. "The hotel has a new guest! They said that they know you. You two must've been friends before! Come on, let's go see them!" Without warning, Charlie eagerly grabbed you by the hand, pulling you through the hallways of the hotel and towards the main lobby.
In the lobby, you saw them. The fucker you had hoped would never die purely so you would never have to see them again. Yet, here they were in all of their trashy, shit glory. "Hi." You said with a fake smile, trying to remain civil and hold back the resentment that had since been dormant.
"(Y/N)! Baby!" Your ex grinned, approaching you with wide, open arms. "I'm so glad I found you after all these years. It took some asking around, but we're together again!" They wrapped their arms around you, squeezing you tight enough that it felt like you might suffocate.
"Woah, haha! Hands off, please!" Lucifer appeared next to you, poking at your ex with his cane, annoyance seeping into his forced, polite tone. They finally released you, glaring at Lucifer as he stepped between the two of you.
"And just who the hell are you?" Your ex questioned, watching as Lucifer wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. "I feel like I should be asking you that question." Your boyfriend replied snidely, any attempt to be polite despite the situation now far gone.
"Alrighty!" Charlie said with a nervous laugh, wishing that she had gathered more information about her hotel's newest guest and their relationship with you before allowing them to see you. "Let's all just relax, and maybe (Y/N) can introduce the two of you to eachother."
You let out a sigh. You loved how sweet Charlie was taking in any sinner, you really did, but sometimes it did more harm than good, usually to no fault of her own. You motioned to your ex, "Lucifer, this is my ex." Then you motioned to your boyfriend, "This is Lucifer. King of Hell...And my boyfriend." The last part felt almost weird to say, the surrealness of dating the Hell's king and the man sometimes known as the devil himself finally setting in.
Your ex only laughed in response, earning an angry, growling-like noise from Lucifer. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it in an attempt to calm him down which only partially worked.
"There's no way this little guy is Hell's king! He's so fucking short. I really thought you had better standards in who you date, babe."
"Fuck you." You hissed, anger bubbling up inside of you as you felt yourself slipping into your more demonic form. "He's certainly better than you ever were." By now the other inhabitants of the hotel had gathered around, some more entertained than anything, while others, particularly Vaggie, were preparing for the brawl that was surely about to happen.
"Woah! Look at the time." Charlie intervened. "It's getting pretty late, why don't we all start heading to bed?" You responded only by turning around and heading towards your room, in desperate need of calming yourself down. Lucifer followed behind you, the walk to your room quiet with no words spoken.
You opened your door, nearly throwing it open in your still-present anger, before flopping down onto the bed with a loud, frustrated groan. You looked to the side, taking notice of the way Lucifer refused to look at you, his arms crossed.
"Honey?" No answer. "Love?" No answer, yet again. "Luci?" That did the trick. He always melted whenever you called him that.
"Your ex is fucking annoying."
You let out a small chuckle at his bluntness, a smile making its way onto your face. "They are, Luci. That's why they're my ex." You sat up, pulling him down onto the bed with you, kissing him, causing both of you to relax, some built-up tension leaving.
"You're all mine, aren't you?" He questioned, already knowing your answer. "Mine to love. Mine to claim." His mouth moved to your neck, sharp teeth grazing the skin, and you let out a soft moan as he began to nibble and kiss at the skin, his teeth leaving a mark you were sure he'd take pride in.
Your head fell to the side, giving him more access to your neck as you took his hat off, throwing it to the side, your fingers running through his hair as he continued to mark you.
"I'm going to ruin you for anyone else. You'll only ever want me." He whispered, lips returning to yours in a fervent kiss. Your lips remained locked together, only occasionally parting for a few seconds so you could help rid each other of the clothes that separated you from what you both craved.
He moved between your legs, the tip of his hardened cock teasing at your wet entrance. Usually, you two would've done more before the main act, but you two were more than ready to indulge in the other right now.
"Don't be a tease, Lucifer." You purred, spreading your legs wider. "Can't you feel how wet I am? How ready I am for you to fuck me senseless?"
He smirked before finally slipping in, biting his lip to prevent an almost embarrassingly loud moan that threatened to surface at the way you felt wrapped around him. He has been in heaven before, and he could say with confidence that being deep inside of you felt better than anything his former home could've offered him.
He began to thrust, his pace starting slow, still teasing you. He wanted you to beg, and you already knew it.
"Faster, harder, please, Luciferâ" You pleaded, giving in to what he wanted from you. "I know you want to pound me into this bed, LuciferâAh! Fuck!â" His pace sped up, and the sound of hips meeting yours in rapid succession filled the room. "Fuckfuckfuckâyes!"
"You always feel so fucking good." He growled, wings slipping out as he lost himself in the ecstasy that was your pussy. You ran your fingers through the red and white feathers, and he let out a pleasured whine at the feeling. His wings had always been sensitive.
"Fuck meâLet them all know I'm yours!" You cried out, losing yourself in the feeling of his cock fucking you with quick, deep strokes. You gripped the sheets in your hands, back arching as he angled himself just right, hitting your sweet spot head on.
"Mine. Mine to ruin, mine to fuck, and mine to fill up. All mine." His hands found yours, pinning them down against the bed as he began to fuck you even harder, his climax nearing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.
"I'm gonna cumâYou're going to make me cum so hardâ"
"Then fucking do it." He demanded with a growl. "Cum around my cock like the little slut you are for me." You came around him, cunt spasming as your orgasm coursed through you. Lucifer's wings fluttered as he followed you soon after, filling you up with his hot cum.
You pulled him down into a sweet kiss once your climax subsided, cupping his face in your hands. God, you loved him more than anything. The kiss ended after a good moment, leaving you both to bask in your shared, post-coital bliss.
"You lost a few feathers," You observed with a giggle, holding one up. He chuckled warmly, lying beside you. You rested your head on his chest, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. You'd have to deal with your ex in the morning, but for now, you were both satisfied with knowing that you were entirely Lucifer's, and that's how you'd always want it to be.
#hazbin hotel#mdni#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel smut#lucifer hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer magne#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar#hazbin lucifer#lucifer hazbin x reader#lucifer x reader smut#hazbin hotel x reader smut#smut#banner by cafekitsune#đ«mimicwritesđ«#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader smut#fem reader#fem!reader#hazbin lucifer x reader#hazbin lucifer x reader smut#hazbin hotel x y/n
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to weave my love â n. riki
â SYNOPSIS -âș Riki is good at many things- dancing, making fun of his friends, playing it cool (debatable.), Hell- heâs even good at saving people from falling buildings without getting whiplash. But the things heâs bad at? Well, itâs asking you out to prom, and trying to balance the shared assignment he has with youâŠwhile being Spider-man.
â PAIR -âș spiderman!nishimura riki x fem-pres!reader
â GENREÂ -âș fluff, banter, action â TROPES -âș classmates to lovers, idiots to lovers â WC -âș 17k (iâm sorry idk why either.)
â INCLUDES -âș 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 rikiâs a junior, is riki stupid? yes⊠jake reveals stuff because he is also a little silly, reader wears a red dress!
â GREAT GATSBY -âș 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
â 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 THATâS 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 Rikiâs 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 heâs sitting next to the object of his very subtle affections, you.Â
See, the problem with having a crush on you is that Nishimura Rikiâs committed to thinking that youâre 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 youâre hardworking, helpful, and dedicated to your role as student body treasurer. Heâs already understood that youâd never go for a guy like him. Maybe someone more like Park Sunghoon, whose parentsâ salary matches yours. If Riki lived in a rural estate with generational wealth, handling the whole âSpider-Manâ thing might be a bit easier for him, considering he wouldnât 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 youâre reading.Â
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 situationsâlike now.Â
âI donât really tell anyone this, but I hate Daisy.â 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 youâve caught him rubbing the very obvious sleep from his eye.Â
âSorry,â he whispers, still fighting the post-nap grogginess, âDid I miss anything?âÂ
(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 Rikiâs somehow still passing all his classesâŠright?
Considering itâs the last assignment about the book, youâre 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 canât be that hardâthe hardest part would be getting your partner to stay awake in class.Â
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. âCan you go over the first part? SorryâŠI wasâŠyâknow.âÂ
âItâs a partner project. And weâre partners.â You wince at the awkward wording.Â
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 nowâin 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.Â
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 heâs doing.Â
âI think one of the questions he mentioned was like âIs Gatsby a good person?â and do you remember how in Chapter EightâŠâ The rest gets zoned out and forgotten in the boyâs head, because he in fact does not know what happened in Chapter Eight. He doesnât know what happenedâŠin any part of the book. But he agrees anyway, pretending like he understands what scene youâre trying to explain. What he notices is how thorough and dedicated you are towards ensuring he comprehends what youâre explaining, and although it could be because you donât want him to fail you both, he chooses to believe youâre doing it because you tolerate him.Â
Youâre so engrossed in covering all the little details and telling him random tidbits regarding the book that you donât realize your feet have made it all the way to the cafeteria. âBut here, let me get your number. Iâll totally explain more over text.âÂ
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. âThanks,â he mumbles, forcibly tearing his eyes away from the ten digits of your number, âFor helping me with this, too.â
âOf 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.â And Nishimura RIki realizes that he has to do well. Heâll read the book five times over if it means gaining your approval.Â
Jake notices something a little different about the tuft of black and blonde hair when his friend walks in. The first thing is that heâs actually here, and that youâre next to him, smiling. The boy rubs his eye to make sure heâs not dreaming somehow, but when he looks up again, youâre waving goodbye and joining your friends across the room.Â
âDid you get hit with something while fighting a villain that makes you more bold? I feel like I just saw you and ____ talking,â Jake starts when Riki finally joins him with his lunch.Â
Riki laughs, shoving Jakeâs head out of embarrassment and opening his chips. âItâs just school. Got some project in English and she says weâre partnered.â He looks over at his friend chuckling, rolling his eyes at how Jake pokes at his side and wiggles his eyebrows.Â
âI better hear you two are dating by next week.âÂ
âWhoâs dating by next week?â 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.Â
âRiki and ____. Let me have one,â Jake answers, reaching inside the bag.Â
Heeseung looks over at his junior curiously. âYou asked her out?â And the two older students hear a groan from the boy in question.Â
âMe and ____ arenât anything, for your information.â He prods at the vegetables on his tray and takes a bite before a look of displeasure washes over his face. âYouâre both way too excited for two guys who do not have girlfriends.âÂ
âHey! You know the girl Iâm always fighting with is the reason why Iâm single. I have to focus on studying to do well in school to do better than her.â Heeseungâs whining falls on deaf ears as Riki smiles victoriously, seeing how defensive the former got.Â
Jake offers him a shrug of defeat. âI got nothing.â
The three of them fall into normal conversation and Riki finally explains everything that happened during English. âSo youâre telling me your plan to ask ____ out went down from 18 months to 6?â And with a nod from the younger, they both groan once more. Heeseung exclaims, âWeâre both going to graduate, dumbass. Make the plan go down to likeâŠtwo months? Please?âÂ
Jake cuts in before Riki has a chance to respond. âMake it one and a half, so we can see you with a prom date before leaving forever.âÂ
âYou act as if youâre going to die after graduation. Itâs like youâre begging to be a super senior.âÂ
And theyâre silenced immediately.Â
âDo you think the guy I was with earlier hates me?â you ask on the other side of the room. Minjeong stares at you blankly, waiting for your explanation. âI donât 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.âÂ
Sunghoon, who is also listening in, opens his neatly packed lunchbox and begins mixing his noodles. âI think you did scare him off, ____.â
âNot helping,â Minjeong interjects, âJust talk to him more and maybe heâll warm up to you. You two sit together in class anyways, so hopefully heâll talk more?âÂ
âI know him,â Sunghoon comments, âWell, sort of. Iâm friends with Jake whoâs friends with Riki, and it seems like all that boy does is sleep.âÂ
âMaybe heâs really good at subconscious in-class comprehension?â you try, taking a bite of your sandwich. âI just hope it doesnât interfere too much with treasurer stuff.âÂ
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE IF HE SWINGS INTO ANOTHER WALL AT 100MPH LIKE HOW HE ALMOST DID TONIGHT.
All heâs 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 thereâs something amiss that confuses his spidey-senses and makes Riki much more alert.Â
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.Â
He doesn't like it one bit.Â
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 somethingâs 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 isnât 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.Â
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. Itâs 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.Â
A spark.Â
âHey, what the hell do you think youâre doing?â The sound of Rikiâs 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.Â
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 heâs picked up the metal armâbut this time, itâs no longer clunky and sparking, but fused into his arm.Â
Rikiâs face pales at the sudden change before his body acts on its own and he shoots out a web to stop the man.Â
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. Itâs 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. Heâs lucky another bolt isnât sent his way, seeing how the villainâs too busy marveling at the power of his new gadget.
âYou know that fucking hurts, right?â He yells out, cupping his wound. âMaybe leave the gadgets to the kids!â
The man scoffs. âIt better have hurt. I sacrificed half my body for this to work.â
âBut why?â 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. âLess talking, more running, Spiderman.âÂ
That scared the shit out of him.Â
The boy doesnât have time to think as he jumps out from the dark tunnel to the bridge and up the metal towersâhe 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 whoâs 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.Â
What he doesnât 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.Â
He needs to end this fast before he becomes burnt toast.
Riki doesnât often rely on instinct to carry him, but he can tell that the villain heâs facing isnât just a criminal.Â
âLand another hit, would you?â he tries to say, his voice strained from the pain in his arm and leg. It doesnât do much to deter the man in front of him as the arm continues to destroy and bend the metal on the way up. âWhat are you going to do now, Sparky?â
The man says nothing, charging energy into his metal glove again before aiming and focusing on the target: him.Â
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 boyâs attempt to escapeâso 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 villainâs 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 itâs the last time heâll 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.Â
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 fizzlingâsomething that Riki knows is bound to leave more scars.Â
âCall the police. Iâll get rid of the pieces.â Although Riki wants to figure out who the criminal is and make sure heâs 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 thatÂ
Riki revisits the secluded spot under the bridge, looking for clues to the manâs identity, and his expression falls when he notices a lanyard dangling near a trash can.Â
His name, his position, and the company. FLiGHT Corp. The company name caught the boyâs eye, and he pockets the item before leaving.Â
It seemed like he was a normal research scientist, but Rikiâs 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.Â
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 canât bring himself to really take away someoneâs lifeâand maybe for that, heâs a horrible superhero.Â
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 itâll 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 maskâand he wonders deep down if thereâs anyone else who felt the same.Â
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 goingâand about you.Â
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 plotâs eccentric characters. Heâs pretty sure he couldâve just used a detailed SparkNotes explanation for the book, but having a crush can make someone do weird things. And in Nishimura Rikiâs case, his infatuation has got him reading a novel about morally-skewed characters and rich society to impress you.Â
When you come into class barely on time, Riki gives you a confused look when you sit down, but doesnât comment on it any further. Instead, he takes out his book and tries to act like his eyes werenât closing shut from exhaustion by the time Daisy was finally confessing how she loved Gatsby.Â
The moment Mr. Yoo stops talking, however, Riki isnât asleepâmuch 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.Â
âI got it.â Itâs the first thing he says when you two are left to do in-class work. Itâs ominous, and maybe a little too enthusiastic in a high school literature class for a boy who doesnât even care that much for school, but youâll accept it with open arms if it means you get a helping hand on your project.Â
âContinue,â you tell him slowly, leaning back in your chair to listen to him. And you donât know why, but a small part of you thinks that the boy who sleeps every period the book was discussed wouldnât have much to say or contribute to such an open-ended prompt, but life is full of surprises.Â
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.Â
âSo you know how our prompt is based on one character and basically all their actions?â he asks, and you nod, absentmindedly thumbing a sheet in your journal. âIâm 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. Yâknow, talking about how the theme of exploitation and secrets is veiled under Gatsbyâs desire for Daisy.â
âYou donât think Gatsbyâs a good character?â Riki wants to tell you that Gatsby is more relatable than good or bad, but he shakes his head.Â
âI mean, not really.â He feels like with those four words, heâs completely changed the trajectory of his relationship with you from a positive slope to completely downhillâand a wave of panic washes over him. âShould I? I mean, I could see him as more redeemable if you gave me examp-â
You wave your hand to quell his worries. âTo be honest, I donât like him either. But heâs an interesting main character to write about, so I think we should go with your idea.âÂ
To win your approval feels like heâs won at least three fights against a villain in a row without getting any bad injuriesâit 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.Â
One wave doesnât catch Rikiâs 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.Â
âSomethingâs caught your eye again.â Jake feigns innocence and sighs dramatically as he places the food down next to Rikiâs plate. âCould it possibly be our school treasurer?â Jake laughs, leaning over to catch a glimpse of whatâs got his friend so entranced and non-responsive.
Riki scrunches his nose, annoyed, but never breaking his gaze from where youâre sitting. âWe talked in classâlike, a lot,â is all he says, paying his friend no mind. âSheâs genuinely so understanding.â
âGod, I donât think you can be any more down bad for her than you are right now.â Jake picks at his food, and despite his concentration directed towards the olives on his pizza, heâs able to dodge the flying loaded nacho that goes his way, even if he wasnât the one with superpowers.
âCan you shut up?â Riki grumbles, laying his head on his arms as he notices you smile and point to something. âI just got pummeled into a semi truck last week. Let me have this before I die tomorrow.âÂ
âVery grim,â his friend notes, ruffling the youngerâs hair, âI think this is exactly what all of those mental health assemblies that we get are for.â 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.Â
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. âYâknow, I read the book for English so she wouldnât think Iâm an idiot.âÂ
His friend snickers, successfully pulling out yet another sliced olive from the cheese, much to the disgust of Riki. âShe probably already thinks youâre an idiot.âÂ
The superhero debates throwing another cheesy nacho in Jake's face, before deciding to eat it instead. âDonât say that asshole! You make it seem like I have no chance with her.âÂ
Jake shoots him an exasperated look that makes Riki break eye contact. âThatâs because you donât.âÂ
âIâll prove to her that Iâm worth her time.â Riki says somewhat wistfully, still stealing glances from a few tables away. âMaybe Iâll ask her out to prom, show up in my suit. Do that cheesy upside down kiss shit people say Spiderman does.â When his friend raises an eyebrow at him, Riki shrugs. âI will! Well-maybe not the Spider-Man thing, but prom definitely.âÂ
Jake continues to look at him unconvinced as he takes a bite out of a slice of pizza with mangled cheese. âYou barely talk to her in class and you think you can ask her out to prom as Nishimura Riki?â And the younger grins, eyes still stuck on how your eyes crinkle and how your shoulders shake with laughter.Â
âYup.â And his fate is sealed, just like that.
âWhatâs your project about, anyways? Didnât you tell me last night that she gave you her number? Must be pretty serious if she wants to text you.â Riki furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head.Â
âItâs 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 itâs easy and mentioned so many times.âÂ
Jake gawks. âYou must really like her,â
âI was planning to read it regardless of who I was partnered with.âÂ
âOkay- thatâs debatable.â There goes another one of Rikiâs nachos.
âGross.âÂ
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 rightâmaybe he could finally ask you out by prom.Â
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?Â
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.Â
Who the hell picks a fight with a teenager at this ungodly time?Â
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 watchâŠtwenty minutes?Â
Hopefully, his instinct will help him win this timeâagain.Â
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.Â
He had this gut feeling that a villain as strong as him wouldnât have been destroyed so easily, but his wounds were so deep and the blood loss so bad from a few nights ago that he couldnât 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.Â
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 centipedeâs movement, he has no idea why it isnât 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 Rikiâs headâbut this time, it finally clicks why the centipede is headed away from the boy.Â
Itâs attracted to the power plant.Â
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.Â
Bam.Â
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 doesnât 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 boyâs reaction speed.Â
Riki lands into a tree and someoneâs garage, feeling the crumbling wall falling all over him and the sudden pain blooming in his lower back.Â
This fight will, in fact, not be over soon.Â
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.Â
The plan is simple: apprehend the legs and crush the head, where Riki assumes the decision-making and programming is taking place. But the monsterâs 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 finiteâand only grows smaller and smaller. Â
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 againâaim, shoot, stick, all the while keeping his distance. Although the monsterâs body spans incredibly long, and should carry an immense amount of weight, the way it snaps at Rikiâs 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 thereâs 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.Â
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 thereâs a magnetic pull that forces the mutant to continue to crawl even against its instinct to stop.Â
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.Â
All he remembers is hearing a familiar call of his hero name before his legs give out and his head hits Jakeâs chest.Â
Holy fucking shit is the first thing Riki thinks when he wakes up.Â
Heâs 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.Â
He knows why heâs in his bed with bandages thrown over his open wounds. He knows that every time something like this happens, itâs Jake who shoos away the concerned civilians, telling them heâs a medic. Jake is not a medicârather, heâs a seventeen year-old boy who knows about his friendâs double life and with all the times heâs saved Riki, someone might as well dub him the greatest medic of all time.Â
The clock on his bedside table has only served as a bearer of bad news. He looks over to see how itâs practically midday, and heâs missed yet another day of school from fighting crime. Heâs 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 arenât too mad at him for leaving the seat next to you empty.
But you arenât mad, just worried. The soreness in his muscles doesnât 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.Â
Heâs most definitely not coming to school like this.Â
While you bore holes into the clock hanging off the wall, that doesnât 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. Itâs the first time youâre 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.Â
Rikiâs absence should have no effect on you. After all, youâre both just high school students whoâve talked once or twice, and yet you still look over at the empty chair. Staring doesnât 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 wasnât 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 werenât so good for you, but he also worked hard and let loose at the same time. There was a perfect balance in Rikiâs life that you aspired to have; it was a good mix of playful, dedicated, and fun all in the same vein.Â
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 youâre talking about.Â
Before class is dismissed, Mr. Yoo steps to the front of the classroom to gather everyoneâs attention. He introduces your new novel for the next month, explaining yet another large assignment associated with the text.Â
Truth be told, you donât pay attention to any of it.Â
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.Â
âSim Jaeyun!â The call of his name diverts Jakeâs attention from his phone to your waving arm as you weave through the students and finally reach him.Â
âYou can just call me Jake,â he explains, âwhatâs up?âÂ
You begin to reach into your backpack, trying to feel for your folder, and pull out a few sheets. âThese are for Riki.âÂ
Jake cheers internally for his friend whoâs busy recovering at home. âWhat, you got a crush on him or something?âÂ
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 Rikiâs feelings, and opts to instead grab the papers and to thank you for looking out for his friend.Â
âIs Riki okay?â You have to know, just to make sure heâll be here tomorrow to cure your boredom.Â
What Jake says is much different than the nonchalant wave and half grin he gives you. âHeâs just bedridden.âÂ
âThatâs pretty serious! Did he come down with anything?â He seemed fine yesterday, so whatâs the catch?
He blurts, âHe just got badly hurt.âÂ
Immediately, Jake knows heâs fucked up.Â
Your confusion and silence answers him far more than words ever couldâhe basically hears the gears turning slowly in your head.
Jake weakly defends, âHis parents had a fight with him because he hit his head or something. Heâll be fine by tomorrow. Just bedridden from sadness, yâknow?âÂ
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 wouldâve been the better decision.Â
âIâll see you later, ____.â And heâs off, waving half-heartedly and dragging a very confused Heeseung out of the cafeteria.Â
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 youâre not the type to fall asleep like⊠ever. However, Riki does not have the heart to wake you up, even if itâs 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.Â
The allergies always make Mr. Yoo irritable, and Riki knows not to get on his nerves.Â
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.Â
Panic settles in. âWait- how long was I sleeping for?âÂ
He shrugs and scrunches his nose, not giving you an answer as he finishes scribbling something in his notebook.Â
âOh my god, Iâm so sorry.â Your hand squeezes into a fist at the frustration that youâve let your partner down.Â
And yet, Riki seems to be unfazed, frowning when he sees you stressing out. âDonât ever sweat the little things, yeah? If thereâs anything you ever need to talk aboutâtrust me, I know what itâs like to have a lot of pressure on your shoulders.â
Smiling at him, you respond with, âThank you, really.âÂ
Being treasurer is daunting in the spring. Itâs full of requests, forms, and small tasks that leave you spent by the end of the day. âBut,â you glance at the clock to see just how much time is left, âhowâd you know?âÂ
He motions to your open computer with a now dark screen. âI saw your document pulled up. ____âs tasks or else she will be kicked out of student government,â he taunts, snickering when your eyes grow wide with embarrassment and you lightly nudge his shin with your foot in warning.Â
âItâs not polite to snoop,â and although you say that, you catch something in your peripheral vision. Itâs a few drawings of a figure and gadget drawn, shaded from rigid shapes with small descriptions pointing to different places. You werenât sure what was more surprising; how good the drawings were, or the subject of his imagination.Â
Weird. Inherently, there was nothing wrong with Riki drawing a villain, and you chalked it up to him being creative. Nothing more, nothing less.Â
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 youâve just thought about is foolish.Â
Thereâs no way heâd 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. Youâve 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. Itâs cute. Heâs cute.
The truth is, you enjoy being around him like this, joking around and never worrying too much about your responsibilities and expectations. Itâs refreshing. Being around Riki gives you the feeling that things will be okay in the end.Â
You snap out of your thoughts to see that his desk is empty, while yourâs hasnât changed one bit.
âYouâre going to sell prom tickets now, right?â He makes small talk before leaving for lunch, closing the notebook you were suspiciously eying before slipping it into his bag.Â
âYup,â you answer, popping the âp,â âIâll see you later,â and you two part ways.
All the long lines and constant distribution of change doesnât 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.Â
Then, it hits you that youâre not even sure if the boy youâre fawning over is attending the biggest event of the year, and you feel stupid for forgetting to ask.Â
-
Yesterday was a rookieâs mistakeâtoday, youâd make sure you get an answer from him.
âAre you going to prom, Riki?â is the first thing you ask when he sits down, grabbing his book and laptop with a little too much enthusiasm.Â
âIâm thinking about it.â Yeah, whatever confidence he had when convincing himself heâd ask you out isnât serving him well at this moment. Quite frankly, Riki feels lame as ever trying to be nonchalant around you. âYou?âÂ
âIâd have to set up, so I would be there, yes. But whether or not I have a date is another story.â 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 youâre reading.Â
âWell, youâre not the only single one here.â And he wants to reprimand himself for saying something without thinking. âIf someone asked, would you say yes?â
You think about it carefully, really because you donât have anyone in mind when it comes to prom if Rikiâs not planning on going. âItâd have to be someone I knowâsomeone I talk to somewhat regularly. Iâd be nice to be with someone who doesnât make it awkward.â
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
â talk to ____ regularlyÂ
â don't make it awkwardÂ
â be..cute?Â
The boy decides that his superhuman responsibilities might be easier to complete than any of those three things.Â
He switches the subject to stop his head from hurting too much. âDid you finish the report?âÂ
You still, and Rikiâs question reminds you of the report looming over your head. In your defense, you two hadnât brought it up much in the past week, and he didnât seem to worry over how much of your time was spent emailing teachers or making spreadsheets. Although caught off guard, youâre quick to respond with, âWhat did we have to finish? I thought we were done since last week, but if thereâs anything else-âÂ
âSorry,â he rushes out, biting his lip, âI meant, if you finished reading it.â And the answer is no, you havenât read it since your last edit on it three days ago.Â
Within a few clicks, you find the document and scroll to the bottom, seeing the small note that Riki left that said âlet me know how it looks.â Itâs sweet to know he thought about your input as much as you did his.Â
âWhile some can agree that Gatsbyâs rise into high society was sketchy, Gatsby still retains the same reserved character from years ago, and doesnât manipulate others into success or use his money for nefarious purposes. Itâs 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.Â
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 heâs committed textbook crimes, but focus more on the intent behind it. To pine after someone from a distance isnât easy, but to pursue her after years of separation is even harder. Itâs universally agreed, however, that love as a driving force doesnât nullify what heâs done to others and the dirty schemes heâs 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.âÂ
The last page isâfor the most partâhis writing, and your admiration for him grows when you finish reading and scroll to hit your Works Cited page.
âItâs good,â you tell him wholeheartedly, âDidnât think you had it in you.âÂ
Riki cracks a smile at your light teasing, soaking up your praise.Â
âNow you know.â He shrugs. And he can only hope that you like him as much as you like his literary skills.Â
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE COMES TO THE REALIZATION THAT HE IS EXACTLY LIKE JAY GATSBY,JUST WITHOUT THE MONEYâDESPERATE 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 cityâs 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 wouldnât 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.Â
Fighting crime gives you insurmountable experience with sneaking around, but it wasnât something he could just teach to anyone. When he gets this horrible gut feeling that somethingâs happened to you, he just knew something was wrong. He might not be easy to catch, but for anyone else? Definitely. Â
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 memberâs texts when they told you they were at a loss for words. âIâm sorry, and I know youâre busy, but how could you forget? Prom is so important for all of us. What if they donât have what you need anymore?â 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 youâd get tomorrow during your meeting.
There it is again: that little tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings.Â
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.Â
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. âDonât let go.â And you donât think twice before holding on.
The city view would be beautiful if you werenât hearing your heartbeat in your ears or if you werenât dangling from the railing of some company building, trying to wiggle yourself free of the rope around your wrists.Â
Spark speaks up, drumming his fingers on the railing next to you. âYou wouldnât happen to know where your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is, would you?â And you furrow your eyebrows, genuinely questioning for a moment if he really knew how the superhero operated.Â
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 Sparkâs 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.
âFrom what Iâm seeing, you wanted to hold someone hostage because youâre not feeling too good, huh?â 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. âYou tried to take a potion or something? Iâm going to tell you this now, but these usually donât work.âÂ
Rikiâs 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 couldnât have been easy. The superhero still proceeds with caution, making sure to pay attention to anything new as he dodges and fights back.Â
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, youâd expect Spider-Man to be easily flung to the side, but he holds his weight in battle.Â
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.Â
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 Rikiâs path. The boy dodges the first, but the second one almost hits the top of his head before he ducks and creates distance.Â
From the roof-top, Riki scans his surroundings before making the split-second decision to jump.Â
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 Rikiâs agility easily letting him avoid punches and land precise hits to make the previous injuries even worse.Â
You think Spider-Man has the upper hand in this, seeing as how none of Sparkâs punches seem to slow down the superhero, but you hear something loud before you can register it.Â
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 armâhe knew that one wrong move paired with the tungsten material would have a lasting effect on the superheroâs fist.Â
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.Â
You. He still needs to save you.Â
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 accurateâa telltale sign that the enhancer Spark tried is working against him.Â
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 villainâs 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 Sparkâs 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.Â
Sparkâs bodyâcurled into itself to absorb the hits the best that he canâ hides the growing blue flash that heâs 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 boyâs 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.Â
He lifts his arm, the other holding it up for support, and Spider-Man notices the fizzle of bright blue. Rikiâs about to jump out of the way, preparing for yet another high-speed bullet, but before Spark fires, something clicks. The arm doesnât directly point to Rikiâbut it skews off to the right.
Except, heâs no longer aiming for Riki in the split second that the boy blinks. Heâs 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 villainâs palm growing slowly bigger, you pull at the rope desperately with zero regard to the tender rawness of your wrists.Â
In your attempt to somehow break the rope, your cry of fear snaps Spider-Man into action.Â
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 flashâfirst, you were bound to the edge about to fall to your death, and all of a sudden, youâre tightly pressed against Spider-Manâs 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.Â
âPlease,â he begs, âdonât leave. Iâll be right back.âÂ
Youâd be a fool to do anything but wait.Â
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.Â
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 Sparkâs laboratory has to be here somewhere. The badge from a week ago was stuck on Rikiâs 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 youâre still stranded on that rooftop after having just experienced a life-changing event blares like an alarm in his mind.Â
He quickly leaves, returning to where youâre 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 hasnât 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.Â
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 doesnât have a cut on his cheek and bruises waiting to paint his skin purpleâas if he isnât hiding his true self under a facade.Â
âYouâre not hurt, are you?â You shake your head, grateful that Spider-Man was the reason you got away without a real injury.
âThank you, really, for saving me. I donât know how you manage to do it.âÂ
Riki chuckles under the mask. âEh, you get used to it,â you hear Spider-Man say. âYou fight a couple bad guys, get over a fear of heights and eventually you get the hang of things.âÂ
Scoffing, you gently rub at your wrists to ease the redness. âEasy for you to say. I havenât been taught a crash course on how to avoid being supervillain bait just yet.âÂ
âMaybe you should learn it sometime,â Riki responds absentmindedly, âsomeone like you shouldnât have been out so late doing whatever it couldâve been.âÂ
Sighing, your mind drifts off to think about the balloons and streamers that are not in your hand. âI had stuff for my upcoming events.âÂ
He knew about all of it when youâd explain your cryptic reminders and notes on your computer, but he still feigns curiosity. âWhat upcoming events?âÂ
âJust prom,â and he hears just how strained it makes you.Â
Riki tilts his head in faux confusion. âWhat do you have to do for prom?âÂ
He notices how you immediately slump, as if the mere mention of prom deflates your happiness. âItâs 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.âÂ
Despite the fabric over his eyes, Rikiâs expression shifts from surprise to pity when he understands your stakes. âYou still need to be careful. Is your student council strict?âÂ
âNot strict necessarily, but judgementalâI 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.â You wave it off as if itâs not that important, as if it isnât the reason why you find yourself stressed so often. âI just donât want to disappoint or give people something to talk about.âÂ
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.Â
So he keeps doing his job, even if some days are harder and some fights arenât worth winningâjust like what you do.Â
âYeah, I get that,â he tries to console, âYou must be doing a lot for everyone around you, and Iâm sure a lot of people appreciate what youâve done. Donât beat yourself up too much, yeah? Youâll always have me.â He smiles, but he knows you donât see it. Youâre looking at the stars, trying to calm your mind and return to your life before everything happened.Â
You glance over at Spider-Man, wondering if heâll truly be around for you when you need it. âIf I need to talk to you, should I step out of my house past 8PM again?âÂ
Riki chuckles, watching clouds slowly dim the moonâs glow in their path. âIf Iâm not fighting crime, Iâll show up at a momentâs notice.âÂ
Thereâs 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 youâSpider-Man made sure of it. Maybe things really were going to be okay.Â
âLetâs get you home, yeah? Donât you have stuff to do anyways?âÂ
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.Â
Riki. Spark. Spider-Man.Â
âWait,â you tell Spider-Man, sitting back down on the cement, âI need to talk to you about something else, too.âÂ
âItâs not like my dinnerâs getting cold,â the superhero mumbles quiet enough that you canât hear.Â
âThereâs this guy,â you start, paying no mind to how dirty your clothes are getting when you cross your legs.Â
Spider-Man scoffs, looking off into the distance, and it makes you believe he has to be your age or older. âYou have a crush on him, or something?â And a whole tidal wave of deja vu hits you in the chest.Â
âHe must be badly hurtâ isnât just something people say. People donât just draw insanely detailed drawings of Sparkâs arm and machines without notes to follow unless they knew. People wouldn't just randomly miss school without any impending signs. Youâre sure of itâthe tired naps in class, the random drawings of superheroes and superhumans alike, or how awkward he could actâit all makes sense.
Your classmate, aka Nishimura Riki, aka the guy who youâve questioned if you had a crush on for the past few days, might be a villain.Â
The swirling feeling of trepidation in your stomach leaves three words running around your head.Â
What. The. Fuck.Â
Although you tried so hard to stop thinking about it, Jakeâs 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.Â
Until now.Â
âYeah, thereâs this guy,â you breathe, feeling your chest constrict, âNishimura Riki. I think heâs Spark.âÂ
His blood runs cold.Â
âYou think thisâŠwhy?âÂ
You take a deep breath, trying to organize all your thoughts. âWell, 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.âÂ
Riki was going to strangle his best friend.Â
âAnd then, I was looking at him in class, right? And keep in mind, heâs 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 wasnât Spark himself?â
He didnât 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.Â
âAnd sometimes, I notice heâs a little awkward around me. I canât explain it. Itâs like heâs paying attention to me. That mustâve been why he captured me.â He wants to laugh at how damn close you are to figuring it out, but in reality, nothing is funny about the situation.Â
Nishimura Riki is actually listening to this, right now, as Spider-Manânot Spark. The awkwardness, though? It was his crush on you, and was not superhuman related in the slightest. Â
âI donât know,â he attempts to divert, pretending to focus, âI saw a badge for FLiGHT. You know the company thatâs been making time traveling machines? I saw a glimpse of his name and face. Itâs not that guy you mentioned.âÂ
You raise an eyebrow. âAnd you havenât gotten him caught?âÂ
âVillains arenât easy to find, yâknow. Itâs not like playground hide and seek,â Riki defends, crossing his arms.Â
You shrink in your spot, feeling sheepish for questioning a superhero so bluntly.Â
âPlus,â he continues, âSpark has never had a hostage. Wouldnât it be pretty mean of that friend of yours to kidnap a girl from his class?âÂ
âYeahâthat makes sense. Thank god,â you breathe, closing your eyes momentarily. âThen what do you suspect all that evidence leads to? Maybe heâs a secret agent?âÂ
âI think,â Riki continues to keep up his clueless facade, âYour friend might just be clumsy. Or creative. I mean, maybe he went through a break-up?â Nice one, Riki.Â
You shake your head. âNo, thereâs no way he has a girlfriend. Youâd think I like guys who are taken?â Scoffing lightly, you then remembered that Spider-Man really would have no idea who any of you are.Â
He shrugs and stands up stretching before motioning for you to follow him. âI have no idea what you high school kids do. Come on, letâs get you home.âÂ
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.Â
âThank you for saving me tonight.â
âAnytime. Figure things out with that friend of yours, and donât go out late, okay?â You nod and take his words to heart.Â
âGoodnight, Spiderman.âÂ
â-
Nishimura might die. One, because he has this horrible guilty feeling in his stomach, and two, because of a villain.Â
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 somethingâmetal, glowing, blue.Â
Or at least, for a few seconds it was on until the power went out.Â
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.Â
Nothing.Â
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.Â
He was rightâit was the same time travel portal that was ruined from a few months ago.Â
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, itâd seem peaceful, like some sort of renovation project. But in reality, it was so much more than that.Â
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.Â
There was some sort of date on a bright pink sticky-note, and Rikiâs eyes widened when he finally comprehends it.Â
The machine was scheduled to be completed tomorrow.Â
-
A street lamp next to Riki dies outâwhich 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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
Heâs 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) heâs never going to tell you how heâs 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.Â
âYou sure that thing works?â Riki asks, jumping into action as he sends webs to immobilize the machine.Â
âYouâre annoying, you know that?â Spark sends a projectile in the superheroâs 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.Â
Spark is uncontrollable by now, sucking the light from street lamps and fizzing wires in his wake. He has no idea how heâs 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 Sparkâs figure, making him easy to spot, but not so easy to defeat. Itâs 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 fightâand 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.Â
âYou injected the cityâs âGas and Electricâ into your system or what?â Riki calls out, making light of the situation. If heâs being honest with himself, heâs 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. âYouâre slow!â He taunts, tucking in his legs to avoid a shot of electricity directed at him.Â
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 someoneâs apartment.Â
âFuck,â he curses, fighting his aching limbs to get up once more.Â
And the solution hits him. Literally.Â
When he steps out and quickly attaches a web to the top of the building, heâs 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.Â
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.Â
âToo scared? You should know better than to run away.â 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.Â
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.Â
Maybe this is where Spider-Man dies.Â
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 thÂ
While Spark has always been intelligent, Riki could tell that the man didnât fear the water, believing heâd 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. Thereâs no way his body isnât in overdrive with how recklessly heâs been letting himself get hurt.Â
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.Â
Spark scoffs. âRun away, then. Like you always have.â 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.Â
All he can focus on now is pushing him off. Thereâs no way itâd 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 heâs fused metal into flesh. The villain coughs before taking a step back, his metal arm reaching for Rikiâs 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 Rikiâs skin, leaving it hot from the energy radiating off of his palm.Â
The boy groans, flipping to his side to avoid a fatal hit to the chest. He reaches for Sparkâs normal arm, swinging the villainâs body away with as force as he could to create distance between them.Â
Riki has been in enough fights to simply know when to run, even if he doesnât know whatâs 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 heâs going to end up dead.Â
âYour skin can handle that anymore!â he shouts, getting ready to swing himself closer as a plan manifests itself in his head. âYouâll die like this!âÂ
Spark seems to know that too as he wipes his mouth and recovers from Rikiâs attacks.Â
âYou think I care?â He shouts, desperately pressing his wounds to stop the bleeding. âYou think I have anything else for myself?â The vulnerability of his character shines through as he clutches his bleeding wound without regenerative powers to help. âYou think I didnât know that when I did it to myself--what they did to me?âÂ
Riki doesnât respond, grimacing as he continues hand-to-hand combat. Although he takes a solid punch to his jaw thatâs 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 doesnât try to injure him anymore, but he instead blocks an incoming punch and tries to force Spark towards the edge.Â
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.Â
The city's a mess, and Spider-Manâs eyes want to shut down so badly, but he takes a few steps in Sparkâs 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.Â
âYou were in the accident, huh?â 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 Sparkâs body. âWhy did you try it? Why did you want to go back so bad?â
âIf I could go back,â Spark coughs, trying to get away from the large pool of water, âI couldâve prevented the accident from taking the lives of the people around me. I couldâve saved them.âÂ
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.Â
âYou know you canât change things,â Riki responds, âYou tried your best, Spark.â Itâs the last thing Riki tells the villain before his body slumps and police sirens grow louder and louder. Itâs the last thing that he continues to think about, even if the medic quickly assesses the severity of his wounds.Â
âIâm fine- really,â he pushes away the hands of a concerned woman as she holds a roll of bandages. âThereâs something else I need to do.âÂ
Riki knew he had to tell you about thisâhe couldnât just let you confide in him about..well, him, without your knowledge. And Riki wasnât 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.Â
Youâll understand after he explains everything, right?Â
â____, a little help?â 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.Â
Do not say itâs true.Â
âRiki, where the fuck are you?â you ask, traversing out when you donât see him anywhere across the glass.Â
âDown here.â You run in the direction of the voice, and your eyes grow comically large and you gasp, staring down at the sight before you.Â
âHoly shit.âÂ
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 balconyâread; the bottom of your balcony.Â
âA little help?â And you see his sheepish emotion through the tattered fabric, embarrassed after you had to find him in such a compromising situation. âIâm a little worn out and I think my webs are getting weaker.â
Youâre 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-Manâs mask. The material gives way to a familiar face, and your mind almost blocks you from putting the pieces together. Itâs impossible, almost horrifying to think of the implications of what it means to wear the blue and red suit.Â
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. Itâs jarring to see him like this, breathing heavy and straining against the stone of the balcony, and his cough snaps you out of it. âWhat the fuck do I do?âÂ
Riki tries to put his hand up in surrender and shuts his eyes at your harsh tone. âOkay, okay, I get-â and he cuts himself off with a yelp as his footing slips.Â
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. Youâre 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.Â
Sitting there with your mouth agape, youâre not really sure what to think about first; to check if RIkiâs alright, to think about how your cityâs 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 shouldâve just been relieved that the boy you started to like wasnât a fear-inducing villain.
âOkay, first of all, we need to have a huge talk. But Iâm not a medic Riki- Iâm going into accounting for fuckâs sake.â 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.Â
âI donât know how to help you. And also,â you lower your voice and scoot closer, looking around at the large property to really make sure no oneâs listening. âyouâre Spider-Man?âÂ
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? Youâre about to faint.Â
âIâm pretty cool, huh?â 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.Â
âPretty fucking stupid is what it is, Riki.â You cross your arms and try to take a look at where heâs been hurt, hoping that at least he has some sort of regeneration ability that helps him heal much quickerâbecause thereâs no way he could deal with all of this on top of school.Â
âI have my reasons,â he says, his voice quiet.Â
You pause. âFor being Spider-Man?âÂ
âNo,â he shakes his head. âFor coming here.â
âWhat could possibly make you want to come over to my house instead of the nearest hospital? Whatâs that important to you?â
âI really want to ask you to prom.âÂ
You simply stare at him, surprised.Â
âYou came to my house, even though youâre like, a punch away from passing out, to ask me out? And you couldnât have, I donât know, asked me anytime during the classes we have together?â
Riki somehow finds it in himself to frown and shrink from your angry piercing gaze. âI canât because talking to you makes me nervousâso yeah, Iâm sorry Iâm half conscious on your balcony in my suit instead of at your door with a poster.âÂ
Youâre 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 boyâs face drains even more when you go back inside, but the door stays open, and he thinks he hasnât ruined things after all. You emerge with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol, a bowl of warm water, and a pristine white towel.Â
âIâm not mad about that, you idiot,â 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. âWho does this for you if not me?âÂ
âJake.âÂ
âSeems like a pretty good friend.â Riki nods in response.Â
 âIâm sorry,â he sighs, sitting up to properly address you, even if you werenât able to meet his gaze.Â
âFor what?â
âFor putting this on youâall of it. Not just the whole Spider-Man thing.â He knew heâd have to tell you at some point, or else itâd eat him up inside to know he kept all of it from you.Â
âLook at you, saving me mid-air and talking to me as if you didnât know who I was.â
You notice a flash of regret through his wince as you clean up a cut with antiseptic. âI meant it when I told you I knew what it was like to have a lot of pressure.â
âGuess I wasnât so far off, then. If we never talked, would you have told me?â Riki shakes his head, and the simple motion leaves you somehow disappointed.Â
âHow do you ever tell anyone youâreâŠyâknow, Spider-Man?â Even if itâs a hypothetical, you shrug, not being able to answer.
âHowâd Jake find out?âÂ
Riki chuckles and hisses at the same time before trying to remember. âI 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. Iâm not really supposed to tell anyone, though.â
âThen whyâd you tell me? You couldâve just gone back to your friends.âÂ
âI felt guiltyâI know, I know, it sounds stupid. Iâd definitely get my identity revealed at this rate.â You shake your head.Â
âNot stupid. Keep going.âÂ
âI didnât 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 listeningâlike I was holding something from you.âÂ
You admire his honesty, and when you look at his furrowed brows and his lip that heâs been gnawing from worry, you canât even imagine what heâs had to hide and do for this. In a way, you look up to him more, for trying his best even if heâs gotten all odds stacked against him. Rikiâs commendable in your eyesâhe always had been, ever since you woke him up in class.Â
âI like those things about you, Riki. That youâre honest with yourself and the people around you as much as you can be, and you try to help others when you can. Iâm glad we got to know each other more this past month.â Talking to him feels different than talking to Spider-Man from a few days ago; it feels raw, like youâre not just confessing something to a brick wall anymore. If none of this ever happened, you doubt youâd get the chance to tell Riki any of this properly.Â
The boy stays silent, taking deep breaths while processing what youâve told him. âIâm glad I could help you out.âÂ
You furrow your eyebrows. âI hope you know I donât like you because you help me out. I like you because youâre attractive, and because youâre genuine,â you blurt.Â
Riki laughs despite his ribcage hurting everytime he does so. Riki nods and mumbles a âthank you,â 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.Â
There wasnât anything else he needed to tell youâyou were smart enough to see how much he cared about you.   Â
Youâre 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 youâre reminded of who he is right now, and what role you play. You are still ____ ____, but heâs a superhero.
It makes you momentarily forget whose suit you're peeling away, whose skin you're cleaning. It reminds you that heâs just the boy in your English class that you fell for. âWhat does that make us?â
âProm-goers,â he answers with a slight nod.Â
You smile, wiping a cut before placing the towel back into the bowl for the last time and getting up. âWe can be prom-goers, yeah.âÂ
Youâre not sure if youâre ready for anything, and youâre 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 wasnât something you could just ignore.Â
âGo home, Spider-Man,â you turn your back on him, and time slows when you falter before sparing him one more look. âI want you as Riki, not like this.âÂ
MAYBE NISHIMURA RIKI DOESN'T NEED TO DIEâOR ALMOST DIEâANYMORE.Â
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.Â
Rikiâs scared of how heâs affected your relationship. Heâs worried youâll avoid him in the halls, and heâs worried youâd 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.Â
Riki isnât sure how to feel at first, but eventually wraps his arms around you as relief settles in his stomach.Â
âThank you for saving me, Spider-Man,â you whisper, loud enough for only him to hear.Â
He smiles at you, ruffling your hair as you go to English together. âAnytime, ____.âÂ
NEVERMIND, NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE SEES YOU IN YOUR RED PROM DRESS.
But first, he has to try something out.Â
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 motherâs sleek envelope from a few days ago).Â
âFuck it,â he says to himself, shooting a web and dangling himself down. Rikiâs upside down figure watches swirled window frames and meticulously designed accents as he descends, and he wonders what kind of shady business your parents couldâve done to afford something so grand.Â
He faces your doorâhanging down instead of rightside up, but heâs still here on time like he promised.Â
The door opens at 6:00PM like he instructed you to, but what he didnât 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.Â
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.Â
âYou scared me, dumbass! How was I supposed to know it was you? It was so hard to see!âÂ
Although muffled, Rikiâs able to mumble, âYou have a porch light for this reason, _____,â 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.Â
Pretty, pretty, pretty, and the boy wonders how you look even more stunning with a glittering red dress and perfectly done make-up. âI like the red,â he says, trying not to freak out over your beauty. âReminds me of a certain neighborhood superhero.âÂ
âI have some blue spider earrings to match.â With a beautiful smile, you turn to show him the little accent, and it melts his heart. âAre you okay, though?â
âIâm fine. I shouldâve probably put more thought into that.âÂ
You snicker, sliding into your heels and closing the door behind you.Â
âOne of us is better at romantic gestures, it seems.â It warrants a scoff, and Riki brings a gloved hand to poke at your forehead teasingly.
âLet me have a do-over, then?â And the way your lips curl up into a bright smile leaves him quiet and in awe.Â
âWhat, were you going to kiss me? Very original, Spider-Man.â With the way the fabric shifts over his features, you can tell heâs pouting.Â
âI thought girls liked this.âÂ
You shrug, pretending you arenât swept off his feet by the effort heâs 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.Â
Whispering quietly, you ask, âYouâve kissed other girls upside down?âÂ
Rikiâs quick to shake his head. âYouâre the only girl Iâd withstand a head rush for.â And god, you just canât 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 heâs being, and you canât resist kissing him once more.
âIâm not gonna lie,â he starts, finally letting himself down, âIt feels weird.âÂ
âYou ruined the moment.â And he really didnât, but you enjoy his subtle reactions to your light digs at him.Â
âWhatever.â Riki laughs. âStay here, Iâll be right back.âÂ
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.Â
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.
âYou never cease to amaze me, Riki.â Itâs 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 moreâthis 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.Â
âSo, which kiss was better?â 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. âI donât know, Spider-Man. Maybe show up in your suit and weâll try it again.âÂ
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 âoh he pined after her for 4 years she liked him for 2 monthsâ bs because I WAS IN IT. and it sucks so i tried to deviate from it :)
êŁà§ 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
#k-labels#k-films#kflixnet#enhypen#ni ki fluff#niki smau#ni ki scenarios#riki scenarios#enhypen headcanons#enhypen imagines#enhypen angst#riki#enhypen fic#ni ki x reader#riki texts#niki texts#ni ki texts#riki smau#nishimura riki x reader#enhypen scenarios#nishimura riki#niki fluff#ni ki x you#niki x reader#niki x you#riki reactions#niki scenarios#enhypen reactions#riki x reader#riki nishimura
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âitadori, please respect his personal spaceââ
âkugisaki! stop hitting himââ
âmegumi, donât you dare bring that elephant out in my classroomââ
peace and quiet is short-lived whenever the first years are around.
you manage to quiet them down with the threat of assigning an essay, allowing you a momentâs respite to massage your temples and lean back in your seat, glancing at your phone to check just how many minutes you have left with them.
a notification pops up as you do, bringing on a whole new headache.
[satoru]: send nudes?
you quickly turn your phone over so itâs screen-down, face burning as you look around to make sure no one had seen.
peace and quiet is also short-lived whenever satoru calls out sick. because the strongest sorcerer of your timeâŠcurrently has a cold.
he is, predictably, very dramatic whenever heâs sick. a mild fever means he puts himself on bedrest. a sore throat means he needs to be spoon fed a very specific homemade soup.
but the worstâŠoh, the worst is when he has a cold.
when satoruâs sinuses are clogged, heâs an absolute menace to deal with. his sneezes shake the apartment and his whines about sinus pressure are all you hear at the dinner table.
luckily, the students have resorted to quietly bothering each other, so you slowly turn your phone back around to deal with the man child who is likely littering the living room floor with tissues.
heâs stuck at home, which means heâs got nothing to do but annoy you.
[satoru]: haha jk
[satoru]: unless�
huffing, you quickly type back a response.
[you]: NOT funny. iâm at work.
[satoru]: so what youâre saying is youâll send them during lunch right ;)
âmiss!â itadori shouts, his arm raised. âcan fushiguro come to the arcade with us after class?â
âof course,â you say. âbut please donât forget to finish your essays on cursed technique origins. itâs due on monday.â
yuujiâs practically bouncing in his seat as he grabs megumiâs arm. hear that, fushiguro? you hear as you pick up your phone. your mom said yes!
megumi, who usually comes home on the weekends, still looks to you for approval. you assure him with a small nod and smile.
sometimes you just want to wrap him up in your arms and never let go. he may have been another coupleâs blessing, but ultimately heâs yours and gojoâs pride and joy. possibly the only one you have left, as it stands.
thought youâre a little sad that he wonât be home for dinner tonight, you remind yourself that heâs growing up. for as long as youâve known him, heâs always been a sort of lone wolf. but a lone wolf is still a wolf, and a wolf needs a pack.
heâs finally found friends heâs comfortable with, and itâs good that he wants to spend time with them and vice versa.
your phone buzzes insistently in your hand.
[satoru]: pleeeeeaaaase?
[satoru]: i think itâll really help with my recoveryâŠ
[satoru]: if this cold kills me the last thing i want to see is a picture of you
oh, thatâs actually kind ofâ
[satoru]: nude, preferably
maybe itâs a good thing megumi wonât be home tonight. you donât need any witnesses to the crime youâre about to commit.
[you]: whatâll help with your recovery is a visit to the infirmary.
thereâs a short pause, then you watch the little bubble appear and disappear about six times.
[satoru]: shit
[satoru]: is this a scene?
you roll your eyes, waving at the kids as they head out to catch the train.
[you]: i hate you
he doesnât answer, so you get up to hurry over to your office, shutting and locking the door behind you.
you wait a moment, opening the camera on your phone as you do so.
once the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall disappears, you start unbuttoning the first few buttons of your shirtâ
you scream when a loud sneeze startles you, satoru suddenly appearing at your side.
he doesnât miss a beat, plucking a tissue from your desk and blowing his nose loudly. he throws it in the general direction of the bin before slapping his palm onto your desk.
you can tell heâs attempting to be some sort of seductive, but itâs dampened bu the way he sniffles loudly, his face a little red.
âhello, doctor,â he says, a lazy grin spread across his face. âiâm here for my physical.â
âhoney,â you laugh, gently cupping the sides of his face. âyou need to rest.â
âbut âm not tired,â he pouts, leaning in to nose at your neck. his skin is warm against yours, much too warm for your liking.
you tangle your fingers in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. âsince iâm your doctor, iâm prescribing a nap.â
âa nap does sound kind of niceâŠâ
he gets up, taking your hand and dragging you over to the couch with him. he locks you within his embrace, sighing contentedly as he presses you to his chest.
âwait, satoru i have to supervise the second yearsâ trainingââ
itâs too late. heâs already asleep, snoring loudly in your ear.
so you take out your phone and text nanami, asking if he can cover for you this afternoon.
because a sick satoru is a needy satoru, and you wonât be leaving this couch for a while.
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Sunghoon trying to stay sane and respectful but your love for mini skirts and barely there tops are testing his patience day by day. He's not a horn dog but God when you press against him, so soft, so pretty and oh so naive..do you not notice your entire cleavage hanging out for his eyes to drink in, or the skirt riding up your luscious thighs as you rant about your day?
as someone who wears mini skirts all the timeâŠnbgngngn. iâm also pretty high but reading this really put a number on me so sorry for typos lol
***
Sunghoon is a skirt chaser.
Heâs always loved seeing girls wearing them since it made their legs look longer. It didnât matter much to himâshort girls or tall girlsâhe loved seeing ass peeking out from under the skirt and how theyâd always tug at the hem to pull it down. Sunghoon doesnât date much either (although that definitely wasnât because nobody wanted him like that either; he wasnât looking for that type of commitment).
He loved the kind of skirts that paired well for going out. Sure, the solid color staples pieces were cute. But the way silk touches the skin and how hips sway in these fabrics was enough to make his mouth salivate.
When you started wearing them, Sunghoon became perplexed.
You, his best friend since twelve, seemed to have ditched jeans and long dresses for short skirts and baby tees. In the past few months, heâs seen you switch up your wardrobe to the point where he was sure you had more than enough mini skirts to last you a lifetime. They came in all colors and styles, one for every color underneath the rainbow and then some. His friends all noticed this too, eyes following your ass every time you walked in front of them. That made him mad.
The thing is, you have an amazing ass and your tits always sit so pretty. He tries not to stare and gawk at you every time you wear these kinds of clothes. You keep it fairly tame when youâre in broad daylight and push the boundaries on a night out. You donât seem to care that his friends stare at you every time you try to cover yourself up from a gust of wind or when you bend down. Sunghoon has probably seen your panties too many times.
He really doesnât understand why all of these feelings are bubbling up. Heâs seen you in bikinis and didnât react like this. Sunghoon is confused but that doesnât stop his dick from getting hard every time he pictures your outfits when heâs in the safety of his bedroom.
His favorite way to get off is by pushing his back against the bed frame and spreading his legs, holding his fist in a circle and he pumps himself up and down. Sunghoon pictures you riding him in one of your infamous mini skirts, looking up at the ceiling and imagining what youâd look like on top of him. He thinks about how heâd look down and the dirty affair would be covered by the fabric, as if thinking about fucking your best friend wasnât weird.
Sunghoon is pulled back to reality when you squeeze his bicep in lieu of a greeting.
âDo you have our tickets?â
He nearly jumps out of his skin. âJesus, Y/N. You need to warn a guy before you creep up on them.â
âAll I did was touch your arm!â His cheeks feel hot as you laugh. âWere you in deep thought, or something?â
His eyes flicker to the shortest skirt heâs ever seen you wear but scoffs, playing it off. âNah. Youâre as quiet as a mouse.â
âWell this mouse wants to go inside.â
You donât wait for him to answer you. Sunghoon feels you tug him by the hand towards the security line in front of the concert venue. Youâve been a bit more physical with him lately, tugging on his arm and sifting your fingers through his hair whenever heâd lay his head on top of yours. He only ever means to for a brief second in the way friends do, but he hesitates to pull away once you tug at his roots.
The artist is a band you two discovered a few years back and he was in charge of buying the concert tickets for the both of you. Sunghoon sees the fruit of his labor pay off when youâre both standing inside after you both pass through security. The venue is crowded and small, but youâre sure everybody is too high out of their minds to notice people bumping into them anyway.
As the two of you walk closer towards the middle, it starts to get tighter. Sunghoon moves you in front of him and puts his hands on your waist to guide you and doesnât mind that your arms are resting on top of his.
You donât move away from him once youâve joined others either. He noticed that youâre a bit shorter than everyone else around you. âDo you want to get on my shoulders during your favorite songs?â
âNo, thatâs okay. I want to dance.â
He looks down at your skirt. âMhm, let me know if you change your mind.
The two of you wait until the show begins and youâre talking to him about how excited you are for tonight but all he can think about is how he could cop a feel if he really wanted to. The skirt youâre wearing provides him easy access to touch you but he refuses to act on his urges, often flexing his fingers to calm himself down.
Halfway through the show and everyone is having a great time. Youâve danced for an hour straight and feel your legs wobbling after jumping and screaming the lyrics to Sunghoon. Heâs a bit taken aback when you rest your back against his chest but tries not to think too much into it.
But you stay like that for a while and he can feel the fabric of your skirt. He toys with it absentmindedly as he nods his head to the melody until he feels your legs tensing against him. When he looks down, your thighs are squished together.
Fuck. He wonders if youâre horny.
Sunghoon hooks his chin over your shoulder and peeks down below to where his hands graze the hem of your mini skirts. When you donât motion for him to move away, he grunts when his hands start to disappear and moans directly in your ear when his fingers touch your panties. Itâs only then does he realize how wet you are.
His other arm is secured over your waist and you grip onto him at the sudden contact across your blooming core. He swipes his index and middle fingers back and forth to gauge just how wet youâve become, smearing it all over your panties. It brings a gasp out of you and he pushes his lap against your ass.
Itâs too much and heâs too hard. Neither of you are paying much attention to the show anymore, too wrapped up in your own little world to focus on anything else. Sunghoon nearly moans out loud when he realizes youâre allowing him to hump you from behind.
âAre you trying to ruin this friendship?â
Sunghoon feels you nod against him and the two of you head out of the venue and into his car. He tries to keep it in his pants on the ten minute drive back to his apartment. You donât fuss when Sunghoon shoves his hand between your legs and keeps rubbing over your pussy as he drives, one hand on the wheel while he plays with you. Your best friend bites his lip and tenses when arousal gushes out of you.
âRecline and open your legs wider, baby.â You do as he says and he pats your clit twice. âGood girl, listening to me like that.â He switches his ministrations and brings his thumb to rub over your clit in back and forth motions. âNeed to make sure you stay wet.â
And stay wet you do. Youâre wet all the way home where he locks the two of you in his place until heâs dropping to his knees and pushing your chest against the wall. Sunghoon puts his face between your legs and licks up the arousal clinging to your panties while spreading your cheeks apart with his big hands, squeezing when you yelp.
He pulls the pathetic fabric aside and sticks his tongue into you, prying yourself open for his viewing. His warmth breath fans over your core and it has you pushing back against his face until his tongue licks you up in repeated motions.
Sunghoon doesnât really care that heâs too horny for foreplay and neither do you, apparently, because when you hear sunghoon unzip his pants and take them off, youâre taking your panties off and taking your shoes off too. He grabs himself and aligns his tip with your hole before pushing all of himself inside.
Youâre so wet. Itâs so hot. He fucks you like heâs got enough stamina to last a lifetime and your tits bounce against the walls at the pace heâs set. He pulls back far enough that he nearly slips out every time but without fail, Sunghoon will make sure his dick stays wet the entire time youâre with him.
He pulls you back onto the couch with his cock still lodged inside of you, manhandling your body until heâs got you on his lap and your feet are placed by his knees. Sunghoon pushes his hips upwards and fucks you like this, balls slapping your clit with every thrust. He moans when you moan, the emptiness of his apartment filled up by erotic noises that only spur on his orgasm.
Your release triggers his. When he feels your cum seeping down onto the base, Sunghoon shoots his thick ropes into you but doesnât stop thrusting. Albeit lazier and more random, he keeps his frantic pace and lets you dig your fingers into him while you wonder how your best friend made you cum so fast.
âFuck!â you moan when Sunghoon pulls out just to push himself back in once heâs made your body lay in front of him.
âYouâre so fucking sexy in these things.â He acknowledges the skirt by flipping the fabric with his fingers. Sunghoon doesnât give you enough time to reply but youâre too busy moaning to care about the consequences anyway. âWear them more often and Iâll fuck you like this every time.â
Since when is your best friend so good at dirty talk?!
***
comments and reblogs are appreciated! xx
#enhypen smut#sunghoon smut#park sunghoon smut#enha smut#enhypen x reader#sunghoon x reader#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enha hard thoughts#enha hard hours#my writing*#hard thought*#sunghoon
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