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mygnolia · 2 months ago

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to weave my love ⭒ n. riki

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Nope.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And they’re silenced immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He doesn't like it one bit.

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

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

A spark.

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

What the hell was that?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That scared the shit out of him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake gawks. “You must really like her,”

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

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

“Gross.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s attracted to the power plant.

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

Bam.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He blurts, “He just got badly hurt.”

Immediately, Jake knows he’s fucked up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

RIKI'S TO-DO LIST BEFORE PROM

☐ talk to ____ regularly

☐ don't make it awkward

☐ be..cute?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You. He still needs to save you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Riki. Spark. Spider-Man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What. The. Fuck.

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

Until now.

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

His blood runs cold.

“You think this…why?”

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

Riki was going to strangle his best friend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you for saving me tonight.”

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

“Goodnight, Spiderman.”

—-

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

The machine was scheduled to be completed tomorrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the solution hits him. Literally.

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

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

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

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

Maybe this is where Spider-Man dies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ll understand after he explains everything, right?

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

Do not say it’s true.

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

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

“Holy shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pause. “For being Spider-Man?”

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

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

“I really want to ask you to prom.”

You simply stare at him, surprised.

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

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

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

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

“Jake.”

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

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

“For what?”

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

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

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

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

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

“How’d Jake find out?”

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

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

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

“Not stupid. Keep going.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But first, he has to try something out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought girls liked this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED AND ALWAYS READ!

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

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

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mochinek0 · 3 months ago

Text

Looking Back (Part 2)

Lila looked around the reunion, annoyed. Adrien wasn't anywhere to be seen. The people she had control over weren't either. Lila smiled, spotting Marinette.

'Time to ruin her day. It'll be just like old times.'

"Marinette!" Lila smiled, walking up to her, "You can call me Mrs. Agreste. Adrien and I got married, after all."

"Congratulations!" Mari smiled.

Lila tried to keep the shock off of her face.

'Where are the tears? Where is the screaming?'

"We should go." A man walked up to Marinette spoke, "The kids are asleep, already."

'Kids? Marinette knows this guy? He's hotter than Adrien! How could she know him or his kids?'

"Already?" Marinette asked, "Oh, I guess it is late."

"Kids?" Lila asked, trying to keep the conversation going, "You.....have kids?"

"Oh, this is my husband." Marinette answered, "We got married seven years ago. We have a five year old and a two year old."

Before she could find out more, her husband pulled her towards the exit.

"Bye Mari!" her friends shouted, "Bye, Damian!"

Mari just waved and kept walking.

'I will not be ignored!'

"Bye Marinette!" Lila cried out, "I can't believe you're still so rude to me. You couldn't even say bye?"

Marinette stopped, turned and smiled, "Sorry, Lola. Bye."

'Lola?'

Lila seethed in anger. She had always thought of Marinette as her enemy, but it seemed she was just some distant memory to her.

Marinette's friend group continue to laugh after she had walked out of the reunion.

"I can't believe she called her that!" Ivan laughed.

"I wish I had recorded it." giggled Rose.

Lila stomped away, humiliated. She rushed outside of the venue and called Alya.

'She always answers! She's hopeless without me!'

Lila didn't expect Alya to be with the others.

"Oh it's you! Miss 'Popularity' herself!" Alya smugly replied.

"Excuse me?" Lila asked, "Alya this isn't like you."

"Oh, it's not?" she questioned, "Maybe I should drink more often then."

'She drunk. So she's useless. Wait! Maybe, I can use this to my advantage!'

"Alya, Marinette was so mean-" she began.

"All of Marinette's friends are successful!" Alya shouted, "Why do we all suck?"

'Huh?'

"Yeah!" Kim shouted, "We've listened to you since junior high! We trusted you! I have a gut and stuck as a PE teacher! Odine is at the Olympics!"

"Nino listened but he only hangs out with Adrien! After we broke up, he just got.....better!" Alya sneered, "He's a DJ who travels all over and I'm stuck running errand for other people at Tvi. I'm not even a reporter!"

"Why does Adrien saying you're un-fuckable?" Alix questioned.

"Excuse me?" Lila gasped.

Nathaniel scoffed, "He said he never dated you and he never would. Mr. Model was crying how he missed out on marrying Marinette and how you're not even his type!"

"Kitty Section listened to Marinette and they're famous!" Alix continued to rant. "Max works for her husband's company and he makes millions. It's like a millionaire club with them."

"Why are Marinette and her friends amazing people and all the people that listened to you miserable?" Alya sneered.

"Yeah!" the rest cried out.

Lila scoffed and hung up the phone. She tried to make the best of it and talk with other people, but she could see people pointing at her out of the corner of her eye. She pretended not to see them giggling and whispering at each other. She quickly made a break for the bathroom to collect herself. She hid in one of the stalls and took a deep breath. No one could know they got to her. They probably heard her call herself Mrs. Agreste.

'Stupid! I should have whispered it to her.'

"Who knew Marinette was such a savage!" she heard a girl say, as the door opened.

'Seriously?'

"She's matured so much!" Lila heard another voice speak.

"I know." the first voice answered, "I'm so happy for her. She went through so much shit with Chloe."

"Hey, did you believe about her being a bully?" the other voice questioned.

"Bullying Rossi?" they scoffed, "Hell no! Lila is a whiny bitch. She acted like she was four."

The second person laughed, "And those fake 'Pity Me' tears."

They both laughed.

"But Marinette callign her Lola-" they continued to laugh.

"Lila Rossi really is the Loud Obnoxious Lying Anti-Christ." one giggled.

"Juleka told me it use to be worse." the other continued.

"How?" they replied.

"Before she was 'LOLA', they would call her the 'STB: Stupid Thoughtless Bitch'." the girl answered.

Lila heard the other person snort.

"Then, they had to teach her safe sex before Wayne, so Mari started calling her an STD cuz she was like an infection that was hard to get rid of." the same girl continued.

"Wait?" one girl spoke, "Why did they have to teach her? She must have known by then."

Lila heard a giggle, "Apparently her and Wayne were eye fucking each other so badly when Mari started working at WE. You know she's the Wayne family's personal designer, right? Jagged Stone introduced them."

"Oh yeah. Didn't she make his Eiffel tower sunglasses when she was 13?" the other questioned.

"Yep. She did those and then worked on his album covers." one declared, "Not to mention the outfits he wore on stage, but seriously imagine undressing your future husband before even being with him."

"I can certainly see the perks." they replied.

"Anyways, the tension was so bad that Kitty Section went to Bruce's office to say he would likely get a grandchild soon, if his son didn't man up an d ask her out." one recalled, "They said it was like being one snap away from them going at it like animals at the office. Damian walked in and told them to stay out of his life and slammed the door. Bruce shouted he'd love grandkids and the next day Wayne asked her out."

"Damn." the other laughed, "From Ice Prince to Simp for Paris' Sweetheart?"

"Better than being known as Paris' Trashy Whore." the other scoffed, "Did you hear Rossi was trying to claim to be married to Adrien?"

"Shut up!" the other yelled, "She did not!"

"Yep." the other stated, "Hard to believe when Agreste was eye fucking Mrs. Wayne til Lola's Pack took him to the bar."

"Guess she's not such a frined now, huh?" the second girl called out.

"Let's go before Lola shows up." the first one declared, "She's bound to skulk in some bathroom 'til her group shows up and saves her from embarassment."

Lila heard the door open and close. She hadn't moved a muscle from whn they started talking. It wasn't until she blinked that she realized she was crying.

'That's why she didn't care.'

Marinette had always been the winner. No one had believed her. The few people that did were slowly turning against her. They were too drunk and were now blaming her for making their lives miserable. By tomorrow, they probably would have forgotten they said that.

Alya was constantly complainign about Nino's success now. Kim had lost to Odine too may times after their break up that he started to compulsively eat. He had lost his swimmer's body and had a giant gut. He'd poke it and complain about his life. His dating life wasn't that much better. He was constantly telling people 'He wasn't always like this. How he was ruined.'

Neither she nor Adrien modeled anymore. He worked for Gabriel and was plain miserable. He constantly complained about being watched and how he felt like he as under a microscope.

On the other hand, she would bring up about being a model and the date wouldn't end well. They would usually huff and tell her to pay for herself. Lila had finally shouted on one of her dates and questioned why. They replied they would only be wasting money on a salad or for her to throw up in the bathroom later. She stopped bringing it up after that.

Lila looked around. She was still in the toilet stall. Marinette was married with kids. Marinette was wealthy and married wealthy as well. Marinette had friends; she was famous and doing what she wanted.

She was still trying to find a guy to seduce to let her be a housewife and have access to an unrestricted credit card. Lila couldn't stop the sob that escaped her mouth. She had threatened Marinette in the bathroom and the bathroom is exactly where her dreams were shattered. No 'Prince Charming' was ever coming for her. She had chosen the wrong path in life and was now stuck on it. Her friends were just as friendly as she was. Everyone in her life was just as two-faced as she was and she hated it.

#lila rossi #lila lies #lila rossi jealous #marinette dupain cheng #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #damian wayne #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #reunion #lila exposed #class salt #wrong path #mochinek0

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observeowl · 11 months ago

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Unwanted Marriage - Masterlist

Summary: One day you found your sister in bed with your fiancé, Marcus Lancaster. She was supposed to marry Natasha Romanoff, the heartless and cruel millionaire businesswoman. In the end, you married a person who you didn't love to save the family. Here's the catch, everyone used to swoon at the sight of her. But ever since an incident left her crippled, she wasn't as popular in terms of being in a relationship, but her business empire was as strong as ever, if not more. What is it like being with someone who doesn't show her feelings? How are you going to overcome the obstacles in your way? Are you going to fall in love with Natasha Romanoff in the end?

Paring: Natasha Romanoff x reader

I wrote them over December so they will be posted starting next week

Not the best first meeting

Getting to know each other

A taste of what can happen

Going above and beyond

Adultery

Tumultuous Times

Getting risky

Time to strike back

Close to danger

Mrs Romanoff

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha x you #my writing #natasha romanoff fanfiction #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #unwanted marriage #mcu x reader #marvel #avengers

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hotvintagepoll · 8 months ago

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Propaganda

Julie Adams (Creature from the Black Lagoon, Bend of the River)— Her legs were declared the the most perfectly symmetrical legs in the world and were insured for $125,000, this was a publicity stunt by Universal but dang it is true she do have some nice legs

Marilyn Monroe (How to Marry a Millionaire, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, Some Like It Hot)— Ngl I thought you all were lying about sexual attraction until I saw Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Marilyn Monroe:

She's amazing!!! A classic bombshell, as well as a strong women who overcame so many obstacles. She also advocated for others, like Ella Fitzgerald.

That fucking saxophone that cuts in whenever she appears on screen in Some Like it Hot

I mean, it's Marilyn Monroe. She's adorable. She's gorgeous. She funny. She's the total package

She's the original American sex symbol, an iconic beautiful woman with eyes you could get lost in, legs for days, gorgeous hair, and a cute tummy. Her voice! Just listen to her voice!!!!!

youtube

She is considered one of THE sex symbols of the 1960s and one of the greatest actresses of all time! She HAS to be on this list!

no vintage movie woman is more iconically hot

People are most familiar with pictures of her in the white dress or the Happy Birthday Mr President one, but imo she is at her most beautiful and looks most comfortable when she is photographed by women like Eve Arnold

It’s Marilyn Monroe. If Aphrodite was an actual person, she’d be Marilyn. Do I really need to say more?

What can I say that hasn't been said? Marilyn's legacy is so much bigger than she was in life. She's a defining symbol of 50s and 60s Hollywood sex and it's obvious why. She was absolutely stunning and the camera loved her.

Julie Adams:

#marilyn monroe #julie adams #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 1 #Youtube

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127tyong · 9 months ago

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Earthquake

Pairing: Boss Johnny X Personal Assistant Reader

Genre: Smut, Breeding Kink, Marriage out of convivence

Warnings:

Word Count: 1.5 k

“Johnny! You’re here!” You smiled as Johnny walked into you two’s personal office, arriving an hour after you.

You were hired as Johnny’s personal assistant a few months ago, and had a decently close work relationship with him. Your application was desperate, saying you would do anything to work with him, and anything he wanted.

“Hi hun.” Johnny always talked to you sweetly, despite his reputation of being a cold businessman. “I have to have lunch with my family today, but that should be fine, yes?”

“Yes.” You immediately said, knowing his entire schedule off the top of your head.

“Perfect.” Johnny sat down at his desk and turned it on. “Is my coffee ready?”

You stood up, getting his coffee for him, then putting it on his desk.

“Thanks.” Johnny mumbled to you.

“Hey, I have a question.” You waited for Johnny to nod at you. “What’s the lunch for? Sorry if that’s a personal question, but you never go back to see your family.”

“They said they wanted to talk. Probably something stupid.” Johnny smiled up at you in between sips of coffee before setting the cup down. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. I’ll come back with some pasta for you, it’s supposed to be some of the best Italian food around.”

“I cannot deal with that bitch’s stupidity.” Johnny huffed, loosening his tie and slamming the to-go box on his desk. You stood in the corner of the room, next to the door, holding a clipboard with his to-do list.

“Mr. Suh, if I may-” You started to speak, silenced by Johnny raising his hand.

“Cancel my other plans for today. I need a fucking break.”

“...Yes, sir.” You quickly went to your desk, across the room and made a few calls.

“My fucking father thinks he can tell me who to marry…” Johnny mumbled, laying on the couch, pinching his nose bridge.

“Sir.” You stood up, understanding the issue. You always knew Johnny’s dad was rough, to say the least. A controlling, self centered man. “Would you like to do something fun with me?”

“Fun?” Johnny scoffed, as if that was the last thing he wanted. “Just… sit next to me.”

You pulled your rolling chair across the room next to him.

“My dad wants me to marry another conglomerate heir. But the problem is… She’s only 14.”

You audibly gasped. “What?”

“I know. I’m pushing 30 dating a girl less than half my age…” Johnny groaned. “I can see the headlines now. Billionaire marries a child. Johnny Suh goes on a date with the heir of a major tech company, a 14 year old. I can only imagine what would happen.”

“Oh, Johnny…” You rubbed his shoulder.

“This is his way of threatening me. Telling me that if I don’t get married soon he’s going to make me do… This.” Johnny sat up.

“Why can’t you marry someone else then? I can make a list of potential prospects for you-” You stood up, but Johnny grabbed your wrist, forcing you back.

“Marry me.” He looks in your eyes, desperately. “At least for a year. Please, I need you to. I can’t let my reputation get ruined like this. You’re the perfect woman for this, you’re intelligent and know how to handle potential issues.”

Johnny’s reputation was everything to him. A stoic businessman, even if in the office he was nothing but kind. His reputation was how he got his way, and you knew it. He always gets told “yes” no matter the situation…

“Johnny…” You looked back at him, trying to comprehend the question.

“You’ll be a millionaire. I’ll give you anything you want and more, just please… Marry me.”

And that’s how you ended up marrying one of the richest men in all of Korea.

Instead of the headlines reading “Billionaire marries child” the headlines read “Billionaire marries his personal assistant, love story shocking the country”.

And he kept all his promises. He bought you a penthouse apartment in Seoul, and a house in your hometown. He bought you any car you asked for, and he took care of your family.

There was no romance in your marriage, but you found Johnny to be an amazing husband. He was very likable, and you two spent a lot of time together, just hanging out. He was great with cooking and cleaning, and never asked you to do anything, but still took you on “dates” wherever you wanted. But the one thing you noticed was he never crossed the line. You slept in the same bed, per his request, but still had separate blankets. You shared a bathroom, but he asked you to shower at night, since he showered in the morning. And he never, ever, asked about your love life. You knew that was his way of telling you that you could date other men, and that he would see other women.

The only problem in this set up was his family. His mother was a gossiping, evil witch that talked bad about everyone, especially you, but his dad was a whole other issue. And every time you saw either of them, they asked if you were pregnant yet.

“I’m home!” Johnny walked into the penthouse as you were inside, cooking dinner. “Smells good.”

“Hey Johnny.” You served the meal. “Food’s ready.”

“Hey… I have to talk to you about something.” Johnny sat at the dining room table, his face cold.

“Yeah?” You placed the bowl in front of him, and sat next to him.

“I need to have a kid with you.” He looked up at you and read your shocked expression. “I’m so sorry, I know I was the one who said you’d never have to do this but I-”

“I understand, it’s just kinda… out of nowhere.” You sighed. “Give me a minute.”

You went up to the bathroom and got in the shower, not knowing how to feel.

When you stepped out of the bathroom in a towel, Johnny was waiting for you in the bedroom. “You don’t have to do this.” He stood in front of you.

“I know.”

Johnny’ s lips crashed onto yours, his hands gripping your wet hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry…” He picked you up and tossed you on the bed, your towel falling off. “You have no fucking idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

“Johnny, wait, what do you mean-” His lips pressed against yours again, his tongue licking your bottom lip and asking for permission to come in. You opened your lips slightly, and his tongue slid in, searching your mouth for your tongue, the tips of your tongue meeting.

You pulled away from the kiss after a few seconds. “Johnny…”

“I think I love you. You’re all I ever think about…” Johnny kissed your neck, licking it in areas that slightly tickled but still made you moan.

“Johnny…” You moaned out, and his large hands pressed against your thighs, massaging it. “Slow down…”

“I’m sorry…” He breathed into your neck. “But I’ve already been waiting for several months.”

His mouth went to your breast, sucking your nipples until they hardened. “God, you’re just so beautiful.”

“Johnny…” You moaned out. You wrapped your hands into his hair and he laid on your chest. “Stick it in.”

“Okay…” He quickly took off his pants, already hard without you ever even touching him.

He stuck it all in at once, shocking you. “Fuck!” You squealed, trying to catch your breath. “Johnny, you can’t do that next time…”

“So you’re already planning the next time?” He began to slowly thrust, allowing you to regain your composure but his impatience still getting the better of him.

“You’re way too fucking big, Johnny.” You tried to relax, but he was still filling you up. “You can’t just shove your dick into a girl, you’re gonna break the next girl you fuck.”

Johnny leaned down, his face near yours. “I told you I love you, and you think I’m fucking other girls? God, I thought you were smart. I’ve liked you ever since you became my assistant. You’re capable, beautiful, and amazing to be around… I wanna make you happy.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Give me a baby. I wanna have a kid with you.”

“Oh, I’ll fucking put a baby inside you…” Johnny mumbled into your neck. “Just keep squeezing down on my dick the way you are right now and I might just cum in around ten seconds.”

“Please Johnny! Please, please, please…” Your voice kept him going on, begging him.

“I wish I fucked you on our wedding night, fuck, you’re so perfect…” And with that, you felt the warmth of Johnny’s cum shooting inside you.

“Johnny…” You croaked out.

Johnny laid on top of you, his dick slipping out of you, causing the cum to drip out of you. “I’ll change the sheets later.” He sighed.

“How are you feeling?” “I still love you, if that’s what you were wondering.” “Good.”

#nct fanfic #nct smut #nct x reader #nct 127 smut #johnny smut

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keto-keyes · 2 months ago

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Singularity

- Batmom!AU Batfam fanfic (OC ver.)

[Based off this post] [Please listen to this while reading]

It was as good of a night as it could be in Gotham city. No violent murders making waves on the news, or dangerous criminals for the richest and bitchiest of the city's 'nobility' to worry about. Everything was under control, for once. Batman was on rest, for once.

Speaking of Batman, his alter ego, Bruce Wayne (we shouldn't let him know we know), was attending the very party that captured the attention of Gotham's richest. He had no reason to be there, except that he was being held 'at gunpoint', as his kids called it, and his long-time friend, Rowan Cassius, was also going to be there. Like him, she was also enjoying a break from the crime and grime of the city of gangsters. She was usually the first to a crimescene, and not because it was usually her own crime, but because she was a reporter. That made her popular. And rich.

Almost as soon as he entered the gala, Bruce was cornered by the oldest millionaires in Gotham city. The lovely old ladies had become vicious of recent, having apparently caught his kids committing crimes, and were demanding that he 'get himself a woman' to straighten them out. Without breaking a sweat, Bruce daintily removed the fragile elders' hands from his biceps, smiling awkwardly. "Ladies, a little calm would do all of us a world of good, I think," he murmured, unable to face their piercing eyes, "How about, we all go get a drink, and then I will introduce you to my wife, whom I recently married."

Outside, Bruce smiled charmingly, but on the inside he was sweating. He figured he could probably just ask someone to pretend for the night, and then never speak of it again. He ignored the ladies' gasps of "WIFE?" and directed them towards the punch table. That was when he recognised the beautiful woman standing across the room in her blood-red gown, talking to the younger ladies. Rowan. She was the perfect cover: his oldest friend (who wasn't Clark) and a woman. Instantly his feet started to move him towards where she stood chatting with her fellow high-achievers.

Rowan Cassius was a multitasker by trade. She could easily, skilfully even, seduce a man while watching him slowly die from a spiked drink of her own doing. She could silently murder someone while making small talk with a friend over the phone. So surveillance of a ballroom mid-conversation was child's play. Rowan was an assassin, that was how she earned her living. But in the eyes of the law and the public, she was a crime reporter, and thus she was gratefully invited to all of the city's finest galas. "Ooh, speaking of Mr. Wayne, here he comes!" squealed one of the six rich nobodies she'd been mindlessly babbling with, breaking her train of thought, "And he's got Gotham's richest and bitchiest with him, poor thing."

'A distraction,' Rowan thought gratefully. She had found the target the registry was looking for. 'Just what I needed.' She twirled around to greet her childhood friend with a grin as fake as the colourant in her sugary drink.

"Ladies," Bruce announced in his deep, velvety voice, "I'm sure you've all met the lovely Ms Cassius." His arm snaked around her waist, stopping her from leaving. Rowan simply smiled at him, somewhat unsure where the play was going and completely dubious where the conversation was headed. Bruce leaned down to whisper in her ear as the ladies swooned and giggled, probably thinking he was kissing her ear. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, "They cornered me. I told them I was married and I couldn't think of a better partner than you. If you'd be happy to pretend for an evening."

Rowan nodded slightly. "Good evening, darling," she said grandly, "It seems this will turn out to be a party for the ages."

One of the older ladies grasped her forearm lightly. "Is she the one? The woman who finally leashed in dear Mr Wayne?" she asked, glancing between Bruce and Rowan.

Rowan attached her hand to his bicep, making it seem loving and natural. "Rowan Cassius," she greeted with a grin, "Though legally, it's now Cassius-Wayne, I suppose."

The night went practically effortlessly. Bruce and Rowan were attached at the hip throughout the dinner, except when Rowan left to 'relieve herself' and complete her job. The woman was down for the count pretty quickly, since Rowan was a pro and all, and then she returned to the start of the dessert courses. Bruce knew, of course. They'd crossed paths a few times over the years, a way of keeping up with each other. But, he knew.

They stuck together to leave, but Rowan surprised herself even in insisting that he take her back to Wayne Manor with him, assuring him that she wouldn't upset the balance of his everyday life.

Fin

Taglist: @whatsleftofmeandmine @yazz-frost @crazytechpersonzreal @aurastel @tearval @star-wars-lycanwing-bat @leesbian42

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dnpbeats · 3 months ago

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There is one thing I know for a fact they will never share with us. Like they would rather post a 3 hour video of them making out before sharing. And thats how much they earn and how much they have earned. And If I had one question I could ask them that they had to answer, it wouldn't be "are you married" or anything like that, it would be how much money do you make, and where does that income come from. Because based on the look of the phouse and the price of the clothes they buy, I would not be shocked to find out they are millionaires, but where is that money coming from?? Because surely its not all from video veiws. They have not uploaded consistently enough throughout their career for that imo. And I mean. Yes they are big creators and used to be bigger, but its nothing compared to the numbers of big creators now. They never even broke 10mil subs. Is dragon city seriously paying them that much??? And what about the 5 years where they basically posted nothing and phil did like one 10min video a month. Surely that was not covering mortage costs plus rent of TWO apartments, plus all of dans bougie clothes?? Were they living off of savings from before the haitus??? That brings me back to HOW MUCH WERE THEY MAKING??? This is the phan conspiracy I want them to address.

i also would love to know how much they’re currently making bc im a nosey bitch. but also for sure they are millionaires. like multi-millionaires. think about how much money they were bringing in in their prime (2014-2018). obviously there are their videos, so the adsense money plus any sponsorships. they were getting money from the radio show and also all the other hosting gigs they did for the bbc (those handful of random docs dan did, all the festivals, etc). there was money from their own merch, but also remember that they own irl, so they're getting a cut from other people who were using irl as their merch distributor. then they had the money from tabinof and dapgo. they had the money from tatinof and ii (while we know they lost money on some legs, I'm sure overall it was income gained not lost). also whatever money they got from tatinof + story of tatinof being posted on yt red and then the money from the ii dvd. also other random shit, like they had licensed t-shirts at hot topic (which as a side note is so batshit 😭). also those random two events they did for dapgo (dapgoose 🤩). oh also truth bombs!! also the partnership they had with rize (I want to say they also had one with younow at one point?? but I could be making that up lol). and this is all just stuff off the top of my head, I’m sure there’s more i'm forgetting

and then okay, the hiatus hits, but phil's still making videos, and then dan eventual comes out with ywgttn. (then wad ofc but dan didn't make money on that so 😭 lmao.) but also keep in mind that during this time, they're still getting adsense revenue from anyone rewatching any of their videos, and also like you said im sure they had savings. and on top of all of this, I'm 100000% sure they have investments that we don't know about, because I don't know how they could've not invested any money lmao. like we know they aren't stupid when it comes to business, and investing is something regular ppl do too. so you’d assume for ppl like d&p who are self-employed (and making a shit load of money doing it) they have more investments than most ppl. so like they aren’t mr. beast obviously, but I don’t think dan is losing any sleep over dropping $600 on a shirt

#also. all of the money in their businesses is public information. so like their net worth is that + money in their personal acc +#fixed assets (like the phouse) + any additional investments #at the end of the day I fear we all just stan two rich white men #ask #anon #d&p #dan and phil #phan

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itgirlgyu · 11 months ago

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✷ zb1! if not the idols of your heart, what jobs would they be doing?

み this is just inspired by the in bloom lyrics for fun!!! 𓂃𓈒 zb1 ot9 ࿁ do not take it seriously please! › ‹゜

𖥔 zhang hao!

morning show news reporter.

he's up there at the ass crack of dawn at some random man's roof reporting to you live.

like why are you telling me that the morning has come boy??

also see him in the street doing personal interviews but it's always so invasive.

like "have you ever gotten hemmoroids? what are your thoughts on it?"

𖥔 kim jiwoong!

weather boy.

like why are you backing up zhang hao like has the flowers bloomed??

he's gonna tell us that's it's spring next.

it just makes sense because when he has to point somewhere north west in the map

he gets out his make shift cane like he's borrowed it off mr. grey

and he starts appealing his ass to the camera as much as possible.

the rating of morning show has been all time high!

𖥔 sung hanbin!

marriage matchmaker brand ambassador.

neither married nor dating but that's only because he has to lure in customers.

there's cutouts of him making a surprised face at a ring at every corner of seoul.

national "the kind of face that makes you want to get married." in korea.

𖥔 seok matthew!

chain restaurant owner.

but he's like at every goddamn establishment of his, running his mouth and working his ass off with the staff in the kitchen and the servers.

like he's using a hanky to wipe his sweat as closes a partnership deal with a multi millionaire company while serving chicken.

he literally only got big with the help of word of mouth.

like that's the power of a motormouth

𖥔 kim taerae!

strong feeling he should be a judge at rupaul's drag race.

like he literally started the whole sassy men trend idc

he'd get it.

but also he should have been a vine star turned singer either way because

i feel like he'd eat that "here's come hurricane katrina bitch" song.

𖥔 ricky!

jobless rich handsome senior.

literally don't see him working anything other than that god given face of his.

maybe a florist.

but the one that has like 30 staffs under him and only works as an influencer for his 30000 dollars a bouquet business.

like the most he'd do is post a picture on his instagram fixing the bow on his 300000000 dollar bouquet.

and it's always white roses.

𖥔 kim gyuvin!

works part time as a crane in a construction site.

not using the crane but as the crane.

had news paper from all over the globe coming to him like how do you do it?!?

gyuvin—"gotta utlise my height somehow."

also works part time as a break up guru.

i feel like he'd excel in it.

𖥔 park gunwook!

community service down the street with jongho.

he's at there helping grandmas cross the streets and singing and dancing and breaking fights.

breaking apples and showing off his strength.

like yes granny don't worry he'd braid both of yalls hair!

𖥔 han yujin!

i do not support minors working!

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avastrasposts · 11 months ago

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A Baker's Dozen - Four

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stand alone short stories, all set in the same bakery.

Hello!

I kinda figured you all would like Joel's visit to the bakery! Handy man Joel with his green plaid flannel shirt and tool belt... 🥰

This week's Pedro boy is actually forcing me to adjust the warning level, things get a bit spicier than usual with this one around and I think you'll understand when you see who it is....

Series Master List

The little bakery is buzzing with customers this warm summer evening, you’re serving everyone as fast as possible, cursing the stomach bug that had put the kid who worked extra out of commission for the week. As you ring up two slices of lemon meringue pie for Mrs Callahan from down the street, you notice the buzz increasing in the shop, almost like a wave of excitement. You glance towards the door to see if you can spot the source of the commotion and see a tall, proud looking, man closing it behind himself. His rich yellow jacket is all you have time to notice before you’re pulled back to Mrs Jones asking about the amount of sugar in the Millionaire’s Shortbread (a lot, you assure her, no, it’s not healthy just because it contains peanuts).

You lose track of the stranger as you work your way through the long line, finally looking up to realize he’s the only one left in the shop, except for little Mrs Levinson who is just stepping through the door. The man gallantly takes a step back and indicates with his outstretched hand that she should be served before him.

“Please, my lady, I would be offended if you insisted on waiting behind me.”

He has an accent that you can’t place, vaguely Mediterranean maybe, and clearly very good manners. Mrs Levinson gives him a pleased smile and steps up to the counter to buy her regular weekend dark rye loaf, six chocolate chip cookies and one whole apple and cinnamon crumb coffee cake.

“The grandchildren are visiting on Sunday, and they love your cookies, dear,” she informs you, “the mother just doesn’t know how to bake, why my son married a woman who can’t cook or bake I will never understand.”

“I’m sure she has many other good qualities and skills, Mrs Levinson,” you smile, this is a weekly complaint.

“He should’ve married you, dear, how you are still single is beyond me, such a talented girl in the kitchen,” she pats your hand as she hands over her purse for you to count out what she owes. “But Mrs Pike’s son is single, recently divorced, I’ll make sure she sends him here to buy something, he’s such a lovely boy.”

“Thank you, Mrs Levinson, but I don’t need to be set up, I barely have time to run this bakery, I don’t have time for dating.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find time, my dear,” she winks at you and gives the dark haired man behind her another wink as she turns to leave.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you say to him as the door closes behind Mrs Levinson.

“No trouble, my lady, I was more than delighted to enjoy the view of such a talented girl,” he says with a confident smile, sauntering over towards the counter.

Now that he’s not hidden by the crowd you can see that he is in fact wearing a long robe, reaching down below his knees. But that’s not where your eyes are drawn, instead you find yourself actively trying not to stare at the deep v of bare, tan skin visible where his robe sits open, adorned by an expensive looking necklace. You pull your eyes up to his face, putting on your customer smile, and mentally slapping yourself.

“What can I help you with today, sir?”

At your words you see his mouth quirk in a wicked grin and his eyes wander over as much of you as he can see behind the counter. Ordinarily you’d be somewhat offended by such blatant staring but…considering your own struggle to not gawk at him, if feels admissible.

“I’m sure you can help me with a great many things, my lady,” he says, the lilt in his voice fitting his strange clothes, and the double meaning isn’t lost on you. You raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms.

“Really?” you challenge, “And what else but baked goods do you enter a bakery for?”

“Depends on the girl, or the woman, working in the bakery,” he smirks, “when the lady of the bakery is as beautiful as you, I’d like to buy a great many other things than her cakes.”

This line makes you roll your eyes so far back into your head you think they might get stuck there.

“You really think coming into a bakery and suggesting prostitution to the woman who works there is going to win you any favors?”

Now it’s the man’s turn to raise his eyebrows and look surprised for a moment, then he bends his head, bowing deeply to you.

“My lady, I did not wish to offend you at all, I was not suggesting that I would buy any such services from you. Rather I was, badly I’m sure, suggesting that I would like to buy such a beautiful lady gifts, rather than just buying her cakes.”

He looks up at you, his handsome face giving you an apologetic smile, “Please, truly, I did not mean to offend you.”

“Alright, I believe you for now,” you reply, accepting his apology with a slight scowl, “So what can I help you with? In the baked goods department,” you emphasize, waving over towards the display cases.

“I have this,” he says, pulling a bottle of wine from the satchel he has hanging at his side, “it’s cold and delicious on this warm day, but I would like to have something to eat with it. And I saw that you have these,” he points to one of the bags of lemon and almond biscotti in your display case. “They remind me of the small cakes we have back in my city, Sunspear. Will you please let me buy a bag of them?”

“Of course,” you reply, reaching for the biscotti, “Anything else?”

“An hour of your company?” he says, smoothly, with a smile, “But I won’t offer to pay for it, just beg that you will join me with this wine, and your lovely cakes, as a small apology for offending you.”

You look at the man standing on the other side of the counter. His confident smirk has been replaced by an apologetic smile, his arms outstretched as if he’s holding himself open for you to review and decide upon. You glance at the clock on the wall, fifteen minutes to closing but the foot traffic outside on the street has trickled down to nothing, everyone is on their way home to enjoy the last of the warm sunshine. It won’t be the end of the world if you close up a few minutes early today. And this man does intrigue you, with his accent and his strange clothes.

“Ok, fine,” you say, “An hour, but I have no wine glasses.”

“My sweet lady of the bakery, I’m sure I will survive without glasses, as long as I have your company to keep me distracted,” he winks at you and his demeanor changes back into confidence once again as you wave him behind the counter.

“C’mon then, we can sit out back, but only on the stairs I’m afraid.”

“I have sat on much worse in my days, I assure you,” he chuckles, “even a prince of Dorne can’t expect to sit only on feather pillows every hour of his life.”

“You’re a prince?” you ask but it really doesn’t surprise you. He looks every bit like a prince from some exotic country you’ve never heard of.

“Prince Oberyn Martell, my lady,” he says, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it, “It is my pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, I’m sure,” you smirk, his over the top chivalry is making your inner rebel come out, and you gladly direct him to the somewhat crumbling back stairs, fishing a bottle opener out of a drawer on the way. Drinking wine from the bottle on the back stairs, overlooking the trash cans and patchy grass that lines the dingy alley behind your bakery, is probably not something a prince usually does.

Oberyn is looking around the area outside the door as you bring the bottle opener and the biscotti.

“Wait a moment,” he says, holding up his hand to you before he unbuckles the belt that’s holding his robe together, and dropping it on the ground. He shrugs out of the robe and shakes it out, spreading the luxurious looking fabric out over the steps and then holding out his hand for you.

“Please, my lady,” he says, “it will be a little bit more comfortable for you than sitting on the cold stone.”

“No, but your robe, it’ll be ruined,” you protest, but he shakes his head, “It’s nothing, just a little dust. Do not think me such a feeble prince that I am above getting a little bit dirty.” With his last word he winks at you with a smile, and you can’t help but smile back, taking his hand.

“I don’t know what kind of prince you are, I’ve never even heard of Dorne.”

He lets go of your hand as you settle on the top step and he sits himself on the one below, taking the bottle opener from you.

“Dorne is a beautiful country, warm, much warmer than here, surrounded by turquoise blue ocean, white beaches and fragrant lemon groves,” he says, “And my home, the city of Sunspear, is the world’s most beautiful city, colorful, richly decorated, cooled from the hot sun by our water gardens and palm trees. It is ruled by my brother, the king. I am my father’s second son, fortunately enough for me, for I would’ve made a terrible king.”

He smiles as he speaks of his home, a warm smile, as he pulls the cork from the wine bottle.

“Ladies first,” he says and holds the bottle out to you, you accept it, taking a sip of the cool white wine. It really is delicious; crisp, fresh and an undertone of a rich, buttery flavor.

“This is very nice wine,” you say, giving the bottle back to him and he smiles.

“Made all that much better by the company.”

“Cheesy, but I appreciate the effort,” you grin and he looks confused, lowering the bottle that he was just about to drink from. “Cheesy?” he asks, his eyebrow raised in question.

“Yeah, you know, ‘cheesy’, when something is lame, or over the top, corny?”

“I assure you, my lady, I did not intend to be over the top with my compliment, if anything, it was not enough,” he smiles warmly at you, and you feel butterflies in the pit of your belly. Either the wine is working very fast, or this strange man and his flirtatious way is getting to you.

“I could say so much more about your beauty and the joy it is to spend a warm summer evening in your company with good wine and delicious cakes,” Oberyn’s eyes are glinting as he watches you squirm and he takes a sip from the bottle.

You feel your cheeks heat up and you drop your eyes to your hands, suddenly feeling very flustered by his flattery, distracting yourself by picking at some dry dough caught on your nail.

“Oh, the biscuits!” he exclaims suddenly and stands up, “We need just a…” he disappears into the kitchen and you look up as he turns around, scanning the shelves before he finds what he’s looking for, “Ah! Just what we need!” he says and returns to the steps, sinking down next to you again with a small bowl in his hand. “The biscuits are to be dipped in the wine, to soak up its delicious flavor and blend with the sweetness.”

He demonstrates by pouring some of the wine into the bowl and taking the bag of biscuits from you, opening it up. He takes one of the biscotti and dips the end in the wine, letting it sit for a few seconds before taking a bite.

His eyes hold yours as he slowly chews the biscotti, humming slightly under his breath. “My sweet lady, this is exquisite,” he says, awe in his voice once he’s swallowed. “I would hire you as my own personal baker any day, would you wish to leave these premises.”

“Thank you for the offer, that’s very generous,” you say, taking one of the biscuits and dipping it in the wine, copying Oberyn, “but I like running my own business.”

As you bite into the biscotti you hold back a moan, you’ve never tried this before but now you understand why he insisted, the crunchy biscotti has softened slightly and been filled with the crips flavors of the wine, the lemon and almond adding to the complexity.

“This is really good, Oberyn,” you smile, taking the second half, “Thank you for introducing me to it.”

“It was all my pleasure, my lady,” he replies, leaning back against the stairs and taking a sip of the wine from the bottle. When he tilts his head back, his long neck is exposed, even more now when he’s only wearing his shirt, a smattering of freckles on his tanned skin, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. It occurs to you that the man exudes confidence in everything he does, even the way he brings the bottle back down, handing it to you with a small, crooked smile, the way he’s leaning on one elbow against the step just above him, long legs stretched out comfortably in his soft looking leather boots, utterly relaxed even on the crumbling back stairs.

You take the bottle from him and take another sip, the cool wine slipping down far too easily. From the corner of your eye you see Oberyn take another biscotti and dip it into the wine, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. With a small smirk he puts the biscuit in his mouth, closing his soft looking lips around it, sucking lightly while he lets his eyes linger on you. You feel heat creep up your throat, there is such promise in his eyes, such a challenge in his flirting. It’s like he’s daring you to flirt back, to push him just a little to see how he reacts. You feel a familiar heat spread through your core, a temptation to entice him. But his confidence, just the way he takes the bottle from your hand, his long fingers caressing yours with intent, almost intimidates you. If you flirt with him, even just a little bit, you think he might challenge you even more, see how far you’re willing to go, and you’re not sure you can trust your body to resist. His easy assertiveness, the way he leans back against the stairs, his hand now resting just an inch from your waist, it both unnerves you and makes arousal thrum under your skin.

With a slight tremble to your hand, you take the bottle again and take another sip, bigger this time and it goes down the wrong way, your nerves getting the better of you. With a cough you splutter into the crook of your elbow, your eyes watering. The prince shoots up and immediately puts his hand on your back, patting you lightly a few times before he begins to rub circles between your shoulder blades.

“Careful there, my lady, are you all right?” His eyebrows have pulled together in concern and he leans forward, looking at your face. You feel the tears that formed spill over and roll down your cheeks as you cough a few more times.

“Y-yes, yes, I-I think so, thank you,” you finally say with a croaky voice, “it just went down the wrong way.”

Taking a deep breath, you almost choke again when Oberyn gently cups your face with his large hands and wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, softly running them under your eyes.

“Can I fetch you some water?” he asks, his voice low and concerned, but you shake your head.

“No, thank you, I’m ok now,” you say, taking a steadying breath. He’s so very close now, looking into your eyes with a soft smile and you notice how one of his eyes is made amber by the evening sunlight, the other dark chocolate brown, half hidden in shadow. You feel like your brain is spinning in place, wheels turning but not moving forward, as you’re unable to tear your eyes away from his intense gaze. His hands are still on your cheeks, warm and soft even though you can feel the rough calluses on his palms.

His eyes finally leave yours, only to very slowly move down to your lips, holding his gaze there for several seconds before he looks back up again. His face transforms into a more roguish smile and he drops his hands from your face, moving to pick up another biscotti and dipping it into the wine.

“My lady, please,” he says, holding it up to you, one hand cupped under it to catch any drops of wine, as he offers it to you, holding it by your lips.

You don’t know why, but you obediently open your mouth, letting him feed you the biscotti, tasting the tang of the wine and the sweetness of the sugar as you break it off in the middle. The tip of Oberyn’s tongue comes out to wet his lips as he watches you swallow it down, and then he dips the second half in the wine again, and places it between his own lips. All the while his eyes never leave yours.

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a crooked smile, and he leans back against the door frame, crossing his arms over his lap.

“I would kiss you, if you asked me too,” he says, matter of factly, “if you want me too.”

You reach for the wine bottle to distract yourself while you calm your beating heart, keeping your eyes on him, that smirk still lingering on his lips as he watches you take a small, controlled sip, this time.

You pour some more wine into the bowl and place the bottle on the top step, reaching for another biscotti and making up your mind. Dipping the delicate biscuit in the wine you look up at Oberyn, holding his gaze while you bring it up to his mouth, mimicking his gesture of cupping your hand under it. A wicked smile flickers across his face as he obediently opens his mouth and takes the biscotti. But he doesn’t bite it in half, instead he leans forward and closes his lips around your fingertips, his tongue licking at them as he takes the whole thing into his mouth. It’s warm and wet around your fingers and he gently sucks on them as he pulls back, a low hum escaping his throat. The touch of his tongue shoots a jolt of electricity through your body, settling firmly between your legs and your breath hitches.

Oberyn swallows the biscuit and takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth again, with his eyes locked on yours he takes each finger between his lips and sucks them clean. When your pinky leaves his lips he moves forward, taking your chin between his thumb and finger, holding you steady, your heart beating its own erratic rhythm in your chest.

“I would kiss you, if you asked me too,” he repeats, looking from your eyes to your lips and up again.

You don’t trust your voice, so instead you inhale, his warm scent; oranges, cinnamon, sandalwood, filling your nose, and you lean forward. He doesn’t smile this time, instead he mirrors your movement until your lips brush, your heads tilting ever so slightly to come closer together, mouths angeling as he presses a soft, gentle, explorative kiss to your tingling lips. Warm hands slip up your neck, into your hair, large enough to cup the back of your head as his thumbs stroke your cheeks.

His next kiss is more insistent, his lips parting to taste with the tip of his soft tongue, licking the seam of your mouth. Your body seems to have lost all will to follow your head, it just moves as he moves you, pulling you closer to his lips, opening up to his tongue, letting him slip inside and explore, tangelling together as he tangles his hands in your hair, making you lean closer into him. Without knowing how you got there, you find yourself sitting on his lap, his hand finding your thigh and pulling your leg over. When he puts his hands on your hips and slides your body closer to his, your mind goes blank and you moan into his mouth. He’s distinctly hard underneath you, the thin fabric of his trousers doing nothing to hide the firm length of his cock, and he groans with delight as you roll your hips over him.

“Sweet thing,” he whispers, his lips momentarily leaving yours, “sweet, sweet lady, I knew your kisses would be as sweet as your cakes.” His fingers dig into your hips, his mouth pressing firmer against yours as he sucks on the tip of your tongue, pulling back just a fraction and trailing kisses and bites over your jaw, down your throat, pushing back your t-shirt to suck a mark into your collar bone, making you keen and whimper under his warm mouth.

“I wonder if you’re as sweet everywhere,” he mumbles, fingers digging into your hips and dragging you over his heavy length, straining against his trousers, “I would very much like to find out.”

You lean your head back, exposing your throat to him as he continues to kiss and lick the soft skin of your neck, heat is building rapidly in your body and for a second you feel as if you’re looking down on yourself from above. Straddling the handsome prince on the stairs, sitting on his golden yellow robe, his face buried against your neck, his hands rolling your hips over his erection as you pant to the darkening sky above. With a groan you put your hands on his shoulders and push away, stumbling back onto your feet.

“You’re dangerous to be around, Oberyn,” you pant as his hands slip away from your hips. His mouth hangs open as he reaches for you. In the dimming light you can see the prominent bulge of his trousers, it makes your mouth water, the image of sliding down over it coming unbidden to your mind.

“It’s just pleasure,” he says, his voice dark and mischievous, “no guilt to be had over feeling pleasure.”

“No, but I’m not about to have sex with a stranger on the back steps of my bakery,” you say, taking a deep breath, running your hands over your head, down your face, to ground yourself again.

“Well, then the question beckons to be asked,” Oberyn grins, “where would you have sex with a stranger?”

“I don’t have sex with strangers,” you say, shaking your head and quickly stepping past him, into the kitchen again. Behind you, you hear him get up and pick up the bottle, the remaining biscuits and the bowl. Placing them on the counter inside the door he follows you out to the shop as he slips his robe back on, where you unlock the door and wait for him to approach. A big part of you doesn't want him to leave, but you know that if you let him stay, he’ll have you naked on one of the counters within minutes, your body will betray you and let him do whatever he wants.

“If you let me, I would like to not be a stranger to you,” Oberyn says as he reaches you by the door, “Would you let me come back and take you out, maybe show you Sunspear, my city?”

“Show me the life of a prince?” you ask, you doubt you’ll see him again once he leaves, “Sure, come back and show me another side of yourself, and I’ll consider whether or not I want you to be a stranger.”

“You don’t think I’ll come back,” he replies, a crooked smile on his lips, “have I made such a flighty impression on you, such a poor representation of who I am?” He chuckles, taking your hand and bowing low, pressing a feather light kiss to it.

“I promise, my sweet lady of the bakery, I will come back and I will show you the true colors of a prince of Dorne. Until then I will keep your honeyed kisses close in my memory.”

He opens the front door and steps through it, before turning and smiling back at you, “And I’ll keep your delicious moans even closer on lonely nights.”

You feel heat rise in your cheeks again as he winks, a mischievous smirk on his face, before he bow lows again and disappears down the street.

Part Five

Tag list: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3 @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #oberyn martell #oberyn x reader #oberyn x you #game of thrones #a bakers dozen #pedrostories

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hoetolegist · 2 years ago

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Let me have a taste

Summary: Getting married is not something you want to do right now but sucking off the son of your mom's boss is

Warnings: sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), face-fucking, semi public, 2 seconds of jealous Stefan, oral sex (f receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, language (y'all know I like to curse), y/n is a riding pro, slight choking, explicit kinda

Authors note: this story was low-key an excuse for me to practice my blowjob writing skills lmao so the sex and the ending wasn't really thought out much nonetheless I hope you like it. p.s there's more plot than I thought oop-

Every time you flew down to Mystic falls to visit your parents, your mom always ended up talking about how disappointed she was about you being 24 and single. This time was no different. You sat at the round glass table with your mom and your dad, eating a casserole that your mom made a few hours prior to your visit. It hasn't even been 10 seconds into eating before your mom cleared her throat to speak, you mentally prepared yourself for what was to come

"Y/n" she began "you're twenty four. You need to settle down and start a family"

You inwardly groaned and rolled your eyes. This is a conversation that you were never able to avoid, not when you were 21, not when you were 22, not when you were 23 and not now. What your parents don't understand is that you are a very busy woman. It's not that you don't want a boyfriend, you'd love to have someone to come home to and talk about your day with but you just don't have time for one right now. Not only were you a young and attractive woman who just wanted to have her fair share of fun before she couldn't anymore but you also had a serious job that requires a lot of your attention

Your mom got married to your dad when she was 22 and then went on to have you at 24. She wants you to follow in her footsteps and start a family early so by the time you're older you don't have to worry about raising children. The thing is though is that your grandparents were millionaires, they coddled and spoiled your mom endlessly, to the point where she didn't need a job or to do anything for that matter so she decided start a family. Although your mom inherited her parents riches when they passed away, you refused to be spoiled rotten. You wanted to work hard for what you have and you did. You love and respect your mother but you refuse to sit around all day in a house too big, being a stay at home mom who does nothing but cook and clean

"Please don't start. I came here to see you and dad, can we not focus on my love life today" you said as you pushed your food around the plate with a fork, avoiding eye contact

Your mom placed her fork on her plate and sighed. "Honey I just want the best for you. I want you to start a family like me. What about that adorable Matt" she replied

"Mom no" you scoffed "wh- why would you even suggest that?"

Matt was a childhood friend of yours from middle school. You still hang out with him probably once or twice a year but you guys drifted apart a long time ago, there were no hard feelings, it's natural. Your mom loves Matt though, every time you see her she says "you and that Matt kid would make a great couple" or "he'll be your husband one day I'm telling you" but she hasn't even seen him since you guys were 18

The sound of your chair scraping the floor filled the room as you pushed back in your seat to get up. "I haven't talked to Matt in a while" you sighed and grabbed the plates before walking through the door that connected the dining room to the kitchen so you could wash your dish "and please stop telling your friends that I'm looking for a husband. If Mrs. Lockwood calls me one more time, I'm pulling my hair out" you said loud enough for her to hear

You began scrubbing the dishes as your mom walked in and leaned on the counter next to you, her brown bangs fanning messily over her forehead. "Okay I'm sorry honey. I just want you to find a ni-"

"nice guy and settle down" you finished for her "I know and I will. Just not now. There's so much I want to do for myself before I have to share my life with anyone else" you turned the faucet off and shook your hands before drying them on the kitchen towel

She sighed but prodded no more, just tapping the counter "okay honey, we have guests later today" she said before heading to the living room. Your dad leaned against the door frame and you knew he was going to say something, having heard that whole conversation. He shook his head before walking over to you and placing his dish in the sink. "She's just looking out for you in the only way she knows how" he kissed the top of your head "I'll talk to her about it okay?"

You nodded as he turned around and walked out of the kitchen. You released a heavy sigh and grabbed your phone off of the counter before leaving through the backdoor to get some fresh air. You had many messages from your friends, they must be worried since you haven't talked to them since you landed which means it has been two days now

[Caroline]

Y/n, are you okay?

I said text me when you get there remember??

Bonnie is gonna spam call the group chat if you don't answer

[Bonnie]

Hey! Just checking in

I stg you better not be dead

I'm calling

[2 missed calls from Bonnie]

[4 missed calls from 'the girls who care']

You chuckled to yourself upon seeing those messages. You decided to three-way call the group chat so you didn't have to go back and forth texting both of your friends. You sat down on the rocking chair as your phone rang

"You bitch" was the first thing you heard once the ringing stopped. Caroline picked up first then Bonnie, they were both scolding you at the same time and you just sat back on the chair and sighed since you couldn't get a word in yet

"Do you understand how worried we were?!" Caroline shouted into her mic

"Seriously, we were about to pack and fly down there" Bonnie added on a bit calmer but you could tell she was just as upset

You waited for them to get silent before you responded "I'm sorry guys. I didn't think things were going to be hectic as soon as I arrived"

They sighed because they knew exactly what you were talking about. The first and last time you ever invited your friends down to visit, your mom embarrassed you endlessly. Not the cute embarrassment when she talks about your baby pictures and coo over your squishy cheeks. No, the embarrassment that comes with getting yelled at in front of your friends for not wanting to get married at 22, the embarrassment of your mom practically telling your friends that they might as well kill themselves if they don't start a family early

"You need to put your foot down y/n" Caroline said with a huff "just cuss her out or something"

"She's my mother Care, I can't cuss my mother out"

"Sure you can" you could picture her rolling her eyes at you "all because she's your mom doesn't mean you have to take the constant disrespect"

Caroline was the one you don't go to for advice and the times you do, you don't really listen to her much. This time, maybe she was right, maybe you do need to put your foot down but if you were going to do it, it wouldn't be today. You waited for Bonnie to say something, anything. She's the calm one, the one that talks some sense into them when things were going wrong and you needed some sense right now

Bonnie sighed exasperated "Y/n, don't cuss your mom out. Caroline, stop suggesting stupid shit like that" you nodded as if she could see you "just sit her down and talk to her about it, your dad is on your side so both of you could team up and make her see that you can make your own decisions about your life and you don't need to be hassled for it"

You face palmed yourself "I've done that already Bonnie. I can't- I can't talk anymore, I've done enough talking with her"

That's when Caroline decided to speak again "well..." she started. You and Bonnie were prepared for her to say something absolutely useless but she said something that actually kind of peaked your interest. "Why don't you just tell her you already have a boyfriend? To get her off of your back at least for the rest of your visit" she said nonchalantly

"Wait- say that again" you demanded, getting up from the swing and pacing the back porch

"Uh, just tell her you have a boyfriend already?" She said it like it was a question "I mean it might be stupid but it could work. Your mom just wants you to settle down, tell her that you will and she'll be excited enough to leave you alone"

"Care you're a fucking genius!" you shouted, you kept your phone stable by using your shoulder as you pumped your fists in victory as if you had the idea yourself. "Gosh I love you guys so much. I'll have to talk to you later okay?"

This plan was absolutely fucking genius. Caroline can be on the dumber side sometimes and her ideas were over the top but there are times where she has those moments that made you want to grab her face and kiss her silly and now was one of those amazing moments.

"Wait" Bonnie tried "Y/n think it through first you can't just-"

You hung up. Of course Bonnie was going to have protests and you'll call her to talk about her opinions later but for now you have a plan and you want to get everything in your head situated first. You texted the chat saying sorry for hanging up so abruptly then you put your phone in the back pocket of your jeans before flinging the back door open

Nobody was in the living room so you threw yourself on the couch and turned on the TV just for some background noise while you sat deep in thought. Deep in the back of your mind you knew this plan would never work but if it did end up working out the way you hoped, you'd have a relaxing rest of your visit. Now you're certain that she'll ask a shit ton of questions, things like "what's his name?" And "when did you meet?" Or "why didn't you tell me this sooner?" So you came up with an answer for all of those questions. Once you came up with your fake backstory and a name to go with it, you decided to go up to your room and take a nap

You knew that you should probably get started on dinner but you were burnt out from the day and the constant nagging you had to put up with. The stairs creaked as you walked up two steps at a time. Your bedroom was still decorated the same from when you were 17 years old. Tacked onto the pale blue walls were multiple BTS posters, a light brown, wooden desk was pushed into the corner closest to the window and right in the middle of the spacey room sat a queen sized bed with pale blue sheets to match the walls and a heavy black comforter because your parents loved to keep the house cold

With a heavy sigh, you closed the door and went to the bathroom that was connected to your room. After washing up and cleaning your face you threw yourself onto the soft bed and curled under the comforter. Later you'll think things through more but right now you need to get some serious shut eye

"Y/n!" You heard a muffled voice shout out. It was your mom standing at the bottom of the stairs calling for dinner. She had a phrase for waking you up when you were a kid "two shouts before I come in and throw ice water on you". You realized that was her second shout once you heard the stairs creak with every step she took to come up

You rolled out of bed, your butt thumping the ground pretty hard. "Shit" you grimaced and lifted yourself to rub your right ass cheek before you heard your doorknob turn. Your mom flung the door open and stood in the doorway with a big blue cup in her hand, no doubt full of the coldest water she could find. "Hi mom, I'm up" you said groggily as she eyed you like you were crazy. You were sitting on the floor half asleep with one eye open, just your bra and panties on, rubbing your bruising ass cheek while your blanket was tangled around your legs, you could be seen as crazy. She opened her mouth to speak but shut it right away, just nodding and shutting the door quickly with a thud

Okay, so not the best way to say hello to your mother but if she knew how to knock she wouldn't have caught you in such a compromising position. You placed one elbow on your bed and another on your bedside table to hoist yourself up with a grunt. "Jesus fucking Christ" you mumbled as you dragged yourself to the bathroom to make yourself presentable. Your mom was inviting one of her co-workers over for dinner and she briefly woke up earlier to tell you to dress your best because there was someone she wanted you to meet

You thought that maybe she was trying to get you to talk to one of her friends so you could get a job in town, you knew how badly she wanted you to move back in with her and your dad. So when you walk down stairs in your black, tight fitted long sleeved shirt, camaflouge print cargo pants - cinched at the ankles, and black, leather converse high tops, you weren't expecting to see one of the most gorgeous men you have ever seen before in your 24 years of living. Your mom was talking to a lady who you assumed was her co-worker while the man looked around the living room, smiling at family pictures and touching the plants

"Oh Y/n you're here!!" Everyone looked at you at the announcement of your arrival. You waved shyly then walked over to your mom with your arms stiffly at your sides. She introduced the woman as Vanessa Salvatore, the CEO of Salvatore inc, the largest car company in all of North America. Your jaw damn near touched your toes, when your mom had said co-worker you wouldn't have thought that she meant the CEO of the goddamn company she worked at

The woman shook your hand firmly and called over the man who was walking around the living room. "This is my son" she said as he walked over. He was dressed in a white button-up shirt, paired with a grey suit and brown shoes, his dirty blonde hair was gelled back, a missed curl falling prettily in front of his eye. As he planted himself next to his mother you noticed that his eyes were a beautiful emerald green and his jaw was chiseled to perfection, it could cut through diamonds if he tried. He was devastatingly gorgeous, taking your eyes off of him would not be easy

"Hello, I'm Stefan Salvatore" he held his hand out and flashed a beautiful, toothy smile. You smiled right back at him and took his hand, shaking firmly like your mom taught you. "Y/n Smith, nice to meet you" you replied, trying to sound professional, this must be something important, pertaining to your mothers job. You pulled your hand back while he stared at you, intensely like he was trying to read you through your eyes. You were starting to feel kind of hot under his gaze so you turned around to go help your father set the table

Your father greeted you with a smile when you walked through the doors "hey honey" he said as he grabbed a stack of napkins "help set these plates, will you?" He kissed your cheek then walked past you to set down the napkins. While you grabbed the plates you heard the kitchen door swing open, you turned around to see who it was and there was Stefan, waving hello to your father as he walked toward you

"Y/n right?" Stefan grabbed the glass cups that were stacked on the counter next to you "sorry if I stared a little back there, you are a gorgeous woman" he said, you could see a slight smirk on his face, he's confident, that's either a good thing or a bad thing. "Thanks, you're a very handsome man" you returned the compliment before going to set the plates down. He followed you to the connected dining room and set a cup down beside every plate you placed on the table. A comfortable silence wrapped around the two of you as you both worked to set the table

After the table was done being set up you called everyone into the dining room to eat. Your mom cooked since you had taken a nap (you reminded yourself to apologize for that later). She made baked macaroni, sliced ham, sliced turkey, yellow rice with gravy and baked chicken. You were ready to dig in but guests first was the biggest rule whenever you had company over. You waited until their plates were fixed then you eagerly stood up and placed some of everything on yours

"So Michelle, I heard that the idea of two engines was your idea" Ms. Salvatore held a hand to her mouth as she talked. Your mom nodded her head "I was quite shocked at hearing that but after learning so much about you I could see that you are a smart woman". You smiled proudly upon hearing this, your mom had been working on that two engine idea for the better part of a year, when she finally got the chance to pitch it to her higher ups she was a big ball of nerves, calling you every two seconds before she had to be in the boardroom

Your mom bowed her head shyly "thank you so much Vanessa" she said gratefully, a hue of pink faint on her cheeks

Conversations flowed perfectly after that. Ms. Salvatore asked you questions like where you worked and where you lived now and you had answered truthfully. You were the head photographer at the modeling agency you worked at in New York, Lights up studios

Mrs. Salvatore's eyes lit up "Oh! A photographer? My Stefan is a model and he lives in New York too" she pat his shoulder "It's hard to get him to come visit since his schedule is very tight but he manages"

"Me too, I visit whenever my schedule dies down a bit" you cleared your throat and looked at Stefan "a model? You are very handsome" you noticed the way your mom looked between you two with a big smile on her face. "Which companies have you worked with?". You wanted to know if he ever worked with your company before, maybe before you began working there he had done some shoots

Stefan shrugged "uh, nothing big just-" he looked at his mom and sighed, she was obviously very proud of his profession "Gucci and Louis Vuitton, places like that" he scratched the back of his head, for some reason embarrassed

Your eyes widened and you put your fork down "Oh wow that's totally big. I would love to see your pictures one day". You could tell he was about to decline but his mom already had her phone in hand and pictures pulled up. Stefan's photos were amazing, he was a natural and whoever his photographer was, they were so very talented. Your breath caught in your throat at one specific photo from an underwear photoshoot, it was hot but it weirded you out that you were looking at it from his moms phone. You sat back up and started chewing on a piece of ham while his mom showed more pictures to your parents

Dinner was great. After you and your mom had finished clearing the table, everyone gathered in the living room. After thanking Mrs. Salvatore for coming over, your dad went upstairs to his room because he had to get to work early tomorrow. Your mom sat next to Mrs. Salvatore on the couch and they seemed to be talking about something important. Stefan was sitting on a recliner, looking a little lost so you decided to sit on the one next to him

"Hey" you said as you sat down "I apologize, I wouldn't have asked if I knew you were going to be a bit uncomfortable". You were feeling bad about his obvious discomfort when you asked to see his pictures. He obviously didn't like talking about his profession much and you didn't mean to pry

He flicked his wrist dismissively "It's fine. I wanted to show them, I just uh, get a little embarrassed when my mom starts to talk about it" he lowered his head "it's stupid"

You shook your head "it's not stupid, I know how you feel". Hearing your parents brag about you is the worst, especially when it's about something as big as what Stefan does. You couldn't even imagine your mom pulling out pictures of you to brag to anyone she has a chance to brag to

"I'm surprised I've never bumped into someone as sexy as you up in New York" Stefan suddenly leaned over and whispered into your ear, deep and raspy. Heat immediately pooled in your stomach at the sinful sound. He's obviously not shy when it comes to flirting, is what you thought to yourself

You chuckled "is that so?". What you did next was bold but you didn't care. You turned your head his way, he was still leaning close to you so now your faces were only inches apart, you could see the shards of gray in his eyes and the way his lips formed a lopsided heart. "Well Mr. Salvatore, now you know where to bump into me" you whispered against his lips. His eyes flickered to your lips then back to your eyes

Just as he was about to reply, Mrs. Salvatore called you both over. You got up at the same time and walked over to the couch. Your mom was looking around nervously and that made you nervous but you didn't say anything, you waited for whatever was about to be said. "Uh, we think you two should go out and get drinks. Let the adults talk some more"

You looked at your mother and just like you thought, she wasn't making eye contact with you. No way was she trying to set you up with her boss's son. "Mom, can I talk to you in the kitchen" you said with a fake smile on your face

"Honey" she laughed awkwardly "we have guests"

"Just for a minute"

You turned around and walked to the kitchen, knowing your mom would be right behind you. "Mom what the fuck?" You whisper shouted once she walked in and the door was closed "your boss's son? Are you serious right now?"

She raised a brow "excuse me young lady? Watch your mouth" she sighed "now it's just to see how compatible you two are. He's a sweet young man and if you're going to get married soon then-"

You threw your hands in the air and interrupted her with a groan "I don't want to get married mom, what don't you understand!"

She was pleading with her eyes now "Y/n just try, you might like Stefan, he's a sweet boy. And he has seemed to take a liking to you already"

"Mom I don't-" You sighed tiredly, you have no more fight left in you and no more strength left to even finish that sentence. Everything you tell her goes in one ear and out the other, you can't do it anymore so you just agreed. You glared at your mom one more time before leaving the kitchen, mumbling a quiet "nice to meet you" to Ms. Salvatore before snatching your car keys from the hook by the front door

"Let's go Stefan" you said with a little sass as you threw the front door open and walked out into the night. Stefan was right behind you, closing the house door and scrambling to sit in the passenger side of your black Mercedes E Class. Once in the car, you started it and exhaled heavily "do you mind if I bluetooth this?" You asked Stefan as you held up your phone, indicating you needed to make a call. He shrugged and sat back, buckling his seat belt

As you pulled out of the driveway the sounds of your phone ringing filled the car. You needed some sense right now before you angrily killed you and Stefan by driving off of the next bridge you cross so you called the only person who could give you some sense. "Hello?" A voice whispered, she was obviously sleeping and you would feel bad if you weren't completely pissed

"Bonnie, why the fuck do I put up with this shit? I can't talk to her and to hell with the fake boyfriend plan, that wasn't going to work anyway and I knew it wasn't the minute I put my head down to nap" you were going on and on, to anybody else the silence would mean Bonnie doesn't really care but you know she's just listening intently "I can't do this shit anymore. I can't keep coming down here and hearing the same shit and worrying about the next man my mom is trying to marry me off to in Mystic Falls. It's exhausting Bonnie"

You weren't even angry anymore just exhausted. You tried to understand your mom, you tried to sympathize with her, you tried to be angry with her but none of it is working. Nothing you do is going to stop the constant nagging and the constant questions about your love life and the silent judgement you get from her friends whose kids are already married

Bonnie hummed "what happened y/n? Did she tell another one of her friends that you want a husband"

"Basically. She invited her boss and the lady's goddamn son to the house for dinner then sent me out to get drinks with the fucking son" you chuckled dryly "she thinks I didn't notice her smiling at us like we were going to get married right there in the fucking living room"

Stefan was looking at you like you were crazy but you paid him no mind. He knew exactly what you were talking about because judging by the way his mom was smiling from ear to ear upon introducing him, she definitely told him he needed to start looking for a wife too

"Is he ugly?" Is what Bonnie asked, you saw Stefan smirk out the corner of your eye and this time it pissed you off so you said the logical answer

"Yes" you bit back a snicker when you saw his eyes widen "and he's shorter than a troll"

"Hey! You're a liar" Stefan said, pointing an accusatory finger at you

"IS HE IN THE CAR?" Bonnie shouted, you winced at how loud it was, leaning over to turn the car volume down a little

You released a laugh, high pitched and squeaky "yeah he is" you laughed harder "you should see the way he's glaring at me"

Before you knew it, all three of you started laughing. It felt nice to laugh like that and you felt less pissed. Bonnie then stopped laughing and called your name, you hummed in acknowledgment. "Just make the most of it okay? Don't think of it as your mom sending you off on a date, think of it as you meeting a new friend" she said

You nodded your head, she's right you need to think more positively. Stefan is funny and handsome, you won't marry him but you sure would fuck him if you had the chance. So why not make the most of it? "You're right Bon, thank you" you sighed "I don't know what I'd do without you". You said your goodbyes and apologized for waking her up then you hung up

"Great friend. Mine would've told me to push you out of the car and take the next flight back to New York" Stefan said once the call ended

You laughed and glanced at him "if I had called my other friend, she would've said the same thing" you stopped at a red light then leaned back in your seat "you're not ugly by the way or short" you said quietly, your joking demeanor long gone

"I know" he replied smugly. You scoffed in disbelief and amusement, so he's definitely not one to turn down a compliment

You shook your head as you started driving again "Salvatore you're something else" you replied, hearing him release a breathy laugh in response

It's a sound you've come to like, maybe a little too much

The music was blaring and you could barely hear the story Stefan was trying to tell you. You both agreed to go to a local night club called "Mindy's", great bar service and great bathrooms to suck someone off. Stefan was leaning back in the booth across from you, his legs were spread out and he had both arms propped up behind him, he threw his head back in a deep laugh at one of his own jokes and you swear it was one of the sexiest things you ever heard

You were still kind of upset about your mother trying to set you up to get married but you tried not to think about it here. You were with Stefan and more than likely going to get fucked tonight, why ruin that with complaints? You tapped on the table "do you want another drink?" You asked Stefan as you slid out of the booth to go get yourself your fourth one of the night. He nodded and allowed his eyes to roam your body as he handed you his empty glass. Your fingers grazed his as you grabbed the cup and you felt tingles from the warmth

You walked away confidently, certain that he was staring at your ass. "Two gin and tonics please" you said with a smile once you reached the bar. The male bartender smirked at you before fixing the drinks

"Here alone?" The bartender asked, his shiny black hair was messy like he had been running his hands through it and his eyes were a striking blue "I'm Landon by the way"

You hummed and replied "with a friend" then you let yourself stare at his plump, red lips as he ran his tongue across the bottom one. "I'm Y/n", the bartender looked at you with some type of intensity in his eyes, you knew he wanted you but you just wanted to flirt. Flirting always calls for a good time

He slid you your drinks then leaned forward "I'd love to take you out sometime" he whispered "I don't see many beautiful women like you in the falls". You almost rolled your eyes, these men don't seem to see beautiful women anywhere. You grabbed the drinks, lifting your brow at an extra he slid over, saying it was "on the house"

You smiled at him and thanked him for the drinks and compliment. "Maybe you'll see me around more" you said, knowing that you'll be leaving soon and not coming back for a couple more months. After telling him that you should get going, you turned around and headed back to your booth

When you got back to the table, Stefan was looking at you with his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. You decided to sit next to him instead of across from him. "Got an extra!" you shouted into his ear. He smiled, tight lipped and his eyes were sharper like he was angry. You asked him what was wrong but he just shrugged and said nothing so you hummed and started swaying in your seat to the music

"I want to dance"

Stefan just looked at you and raised a brow as if questioning why but you just grabbed his hand and drug him out of the booth. "Humor me" you said, placing a hand on his chest "just one dance"

He stared into your eyes for a few minutes then he took your hand and walked onto the dance floor. He spun you around, pressing your back to his chest "hm, I think someone else was expecting a dance too" he whispered, his warm breath fanning across your neck. Your breath hitched as he pulled you closer, sliding his left hand down your left arm to intertwine your fingers

He was jealous. You realized it in the way he held you possessively and the way he chose a spot right where the bartender could see you guys. It's not everyday you find a man as sexy as Stefan that wants you so badly so you caught yourself from smiling and decided not to comment on his jealousy

Instead you pushed your hips back as he placed his other hand on your waist to guide your movements. You could feel his heart beating rapidly on your back and you reveled in the feeling, you were making him feel like this. Eventually you were grinding up against him faster and harder and you could feel his breath picking up from the constant friction. You put your head back on his shoulder and closed your eyes, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth when he started to leave feather light kisses down your neck. "Mm" you hummed as arousal swirled in the pits of your stomach, you needed to fuck him now

"I want you” Stefan confessed, low and deep in your ear, his lips grazing your earlobe. “I would fuck you so well” he added, nipping the lobe of your ear afterward

You let out a little gasp when Stefan released your entwined fingers then spun you to face him. You were drunk off both pleasure and alcohol, a dangerous combination. Stefan then kissed you, so deeply and passionately that your knees almost buckled from the feeling. His lips were softer and warmer then you could have ever imagined, not that you had much time to imagine since you just met him not too long ago

You panted as he pulled back just a little "show me then please" you begged. You weren't even going to resort to begging at first but every time he touched you a fire ignited throughout your whole body and the only way to put it out is to feel him inside of you

“Begging already?” Stefan said, his lips still against yours

You whimpered and closed your eyes as he kissed you again. You needed Stefan and it's now or never but before you could tell him to take you to the bathrooms, he was already letting go

“Come on then” he teased in a low voice, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands trailed lightly down your back, just a teasing touch, before he gripped your ass. Then the touch was gone and his warmth was gone. You opened your eyes to see Stefan walking toward the bathrooms, he walked with his head held high and the crowd parted for him like the red sea

Before you knew it you were booking it to the bathrooms. As soon as you opened the door, you were pulled in and pushed against it. Stefan locked it then connected his lips with yours hungrily. You melted into his touch, enjoying the softness of his lips and the taste of alcohol on his tongue as he licked into your mouth. Stefan slid his hands under your shirt to squeeze your waist and the touch sent a lick of heat through your stomach. You pulled back and scanned his body

"Let me suck your dick" it was a demand but a question at the same time

He nodded with a groan "yeah okay". Stefan switched spots so his back was against the door and you were in front of him then he unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down enough to get his dick out. Your eyes widened, you almost wanted to slap him for having such a perfect dick – it was long, thick and his pretty red tip was already dripping with pre-cum

You quickly sunk down to your knees and stuck your tongue out, licking a broad stripe along the vein on his cock. Stefan released a drawn out moan, letting the back of his head hit the door with a thud. "Fuck" he cursed under his breath as you started to suck on the tip. He put a hand in your hair, not pushing your head but just keeping it there

This turned you on though, you wanted him to grip your hair and fuck his cock down your throat. And you let him know that by sinking down as far as you can, then looking up at him with tears pricking your eyes. His grip in your hair tightened and his breathing picked up. "Okay shit, I get it" he said, smiling down at you and boy was his smile beautiful. "Tap my thigh whenever you want me to stop" he added before pulling his cock out to rub his tip on your lips

When you opened your mouth he took that opportunity to slide in, slowly, just until he hit the back of your throat then he pulled back again and slammed in harder. Your eyes watered but you just breathed through your nose, you wanted this. "So good baby" he breathed as he looked down at you with half lidded eyes. The praise make your pussy clench around nothing, wanting him to fill you up

Stefan gently fisted your hair with both hands as he began to thrust, moving your head along with him. "Those pretty lips were meant to be stretched around my cock" he said as he started thrusting faster, moans getting louder. You're sure anybody who was waiting for the restroom could hear him but that made it even hotter

Drool and tears ran down your face as Stefan brutally hit the back of your throat with each thrust, you closed your eyes and thanked the universe for not giving you a gag reflex. You moaned around his length, hearing him let out a curse from the vibrations just like you thought he would. You continued to look up at him as he stared down at you, he was breathtaking. His forehead glistened with sweat and his tongue swiped across his bottom lip every few seconds. He smiled at you in between a moan and it was the sexiest thing you had ever seen

Soon his thrusts were faltering and his cock was twitching against your tongue with the need to release. "Fuck- I'm gonna cum" he moaned as he put his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. His grip in your hair tightened as he thrusted one more time, stilling with a loud groan as he came hot and salty down your throat. You swallowed it all quickly then sucked on his tip a little more until he was pulling you off from over stimulation

"You're a fucking dream" he breathed out, his eyes following you as you stood back up and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand

"So I've been told" you replied with a laugh as you turned around to walk to the sink to wash your face and fix your hair

After Stefan tucked himself back in and buckled his belt back up he walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "I don't have condoms on me" he mumbled as he kissed your ear. You tried not to pout in disappointment. You were really hoping to get fucked tonight but you were fine with it, you didn't care much

"It's fine I don't need anything in re-"

"But I have my own place a few blocks away" he interrupted with a face as if he was trying not to laugh and coo at you. That was all he had to say before you were grabbing his arm and unlocking the bathroom door. Of course you cared, you wanted Stefan and he didn't seem like the blowjob and go type of guy anyway. You didn't care about the people staring at the both of you as you flung the door open and walked out

You and Stefan walked to the car in silence because if either of you spoke you'd probably just say fuck it and have the nastiest sex on your backseat. Electricity was buzzing through your veins and you were already wet from earlier, you know he could fuck you good and you're ready to be pinned down and fucked rough

Stefan had already typed his address into your phone's GPS so in just a few minutes you were pulling up a huge driveway. Your eyes widened as something akin to a mansion came into view. His house was fucking huge, there is no way he lives here alone and of course you talked first and asked that very question. "You live here? Alone?" You asked your car came to a halt by the entrance

He shook his head and replied "not alone". You raised a brow and asked with who and he told you that he has a three year old puppy named Rose that he keeps with him every time he visits Mystic Falls, giving the puppy to his parents whenever he isn't here. For some reason you felt a sense of relief at the confirmation of nobody else living there but you ignored it because what would you be relieved for?

When you walked in the house you didn't even have time to process how big and beautiful it was inside before Stefan was grabbing your waist and smashing ypur lips together. You yelped as he picked you up and you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist. "You're so fucking sexy" he said in between nips on your bottom lip. He carried you up a flight of stairs with his lips still connected to yours, not pulling away until he threw you on a big bed in a bedroom way too big for one person. You sat still and looked around as Stefan went to go grab condoms out of his dresser

The room was huge but very bland like something you'd imagine a guest room to look like but you knew it was his room because of the single picture of him accompanied by a tall man with black hair that sat on his dresser. You wanted to ask questions but you didn't want to pry too much

Soon Stefan came back with three condoms, you lifted a brow and giggled. "Three? Are you trying to kill me?" You asked in faux disbelief. You can handle three rounds but you aren't sure if he can, not with you

He laughed lowly while moving to hover over you. "Just hoping you can keep up" he said before pressing his lips against yours, you wrapped your arms around his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist as you pulled him closer and kissed him back harder. You could kiss Stefan forever, it was like your lips were made to be on his

You both grinded against each other before Stefan pulled back to start kissing down your neck. "Tell me what you like" he said as he nipped a sensitive part on your neck "I'm open to anything" he continued, detaching his lips from your neck so he could pull your shirt off, you complied by lifting your arms

"Mm" you moaned as he kissed around your breasts, you indeed wore no bra. Your breasts are big but not too big so you were able to pass without a bra sometimes. "I like rough but not too rough, I don't want to bleed. I like to be choked and please don't hesitate to leave marks, it turns me on". You placed a hand on the back of his head as he started sucking on one of your hard nipples. "If you're too silent I might get up and leave in the middle of it" you laughed when Stefan softly bit your nipple trying to hold back a laugh. "I'm serious, be vocal, I like to hear how good you feel" you said, looking down in time to see Stefan wink at you

"Of course I'll be vocal baby" he mumbled against your skin as he was switching to the other nipple. You shuddered at the pet name again and closed your eyes thinking of more things to tell him

"If I say pineapple that means stop"

Stefan released your nipple with a pop "you better pineapple the shit out of me if you feel any bit of discomfort, got it?" He said with a small smile. You replied with a simple yes before helping him pull his shirt off

This man was carved by angels then double checked by the Greek Gods, you've never seen abs so chiseled and defined. Your mouth hung open as you shamelessly swept his torso with your eyes. Is it weird to say someone has pretty nipples? It probably is but that didn't stop you. "You're nipples are so pretty" you blurted, mentally face palming yourself once you said it

"Thanks" Stefan smiled then pinched one of your nipples "so are yours"

"Just fuck me already" you huffed with a playful roll of your eyes

Stefan kissed you again as he pulled your pants and panties off, quickly pulling his pants and boxers off as well. He stared open mouthed at your pussy and you were about two seconds away from covering up before he began to run his fingers along your glistening folds. He spread you open with two fingers "fuck you're so wet" he removed his fingers and brought them to your lips, you willingly opened your mouth to taste yourself like he wanted you to

He watched you with a hungry look in his eyes which spurred you on more. As much as you wanted to get fucked, you loved the foreplay, you know your orgasm is going to be so much more intense when he does get around to fucking you. You dragged your tongue in between his two fingers and you sucked hard, reminding him of the blowjob you gave him back at the club. "Shit" he whispered, voice heavy with arousal. You released his fingers then watched him move down so his head could be between your thighs

"Gonna taste you first" he said then he stuffed his face into your pussy

You arched up and released a sigh when he licked a stripe up your core and to your clit. He wrapped his lips around it, sucking hard as you grabbed the sheets on either side of your head and squeezed your eyes shut. It felt so good and you wanted so badly to hump his face. "So good Stefan" you whined when he swirled his tongue around your clit then moved to push his tongue through your pulsating hole, using his thumb to rub your clit

It was messy, you were so wet for him and you could hear the way he slurps on your pussy, it pushed you closer and closer to the edge. He pushed two fingers into your hole at once and it felt so good with just a small sting. He hooked his fingers, hitting your g-spot right away. "Right there" you whined breathily, pushing back on his fingers

He was so good at this, knew exactly what to do with his fingers and mouth. But you needed more, you wanted to cum on his cock. You tapped his head "fuck me" you looked at him through half lidded eyes and squeezed your own nipples "I want you so bad" you said, moaning softly when his pressed a kiss to your core

Stefan nodded and quickly sat up on his knees and opened one of the condoms. You watched as he rolled it on then pumped himself a few times. It was hot, he was hot. "Relax for me, okay?" Stefan whispered, rubbing circles into your thighs as he lined himself up with your hole. A quiet moan left you as he pushed in excruciatingly slow, his eyes stuck on where you two are now connected. He rests his hand down on your mound, thumb rubbing small circles into your clit as he rocked his hips into yours

"Shit" Stefan muttered softly to himself. He hadn't really set a pace yet, just lazily rolling his hips and enjoying the feel of your warm, wet pussy squeezing him so tightly. "Fuck you feel so good" he grunted out as he began to speed up his thrusts, fucking into you so hard that his neighbors could probably hear the slap of skin against skin

Stefan slid his hand up your torso to squeeze one of your breasts, rolling your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. "Oh my God" your eyes rolled into the back of your head, his cock hit your g-spot with each thrust inside of you. You gripped his sheets to keep yourself from sinking your nails into his biceps. "Deeper please Stefan" you whined, not knowing how he could get any deeper but you need him to try

"Ride me" is what he replied "if you want it, then ride me" he challengingly quirked a brow and smirked. He was obviously teasing you but with no hesitation you put your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back, allowing his cock to slide out of you so you can hover above him

"You're so fucking sexy" He whispered as you positioned yourself above his cock and sunk down, he was just in you but the stretch was still there, it was a dull pain. His fingers dug into your sides harshly, hard enough to leave bruises and you'd smile about it if you weren't trying to fit his cock in you

You circled your hips a few times before lifting yourself up and slamming back down. You set the pace and made the movements quick and harsh. Stefan slid his hands down to your ass, helping you bounce up and down on him. "You ride me so well" Stefan groaned, eyebrows furrowing out of pleasure

You couldn’t help but clench around him from the endless praise, the action causing him to buck his hips as he moaned “yeah, just like that”. One particular swivel of your hips had you both groan in unison as you worked his cock to find your sweet spot. You locked into the feeling desperate to find it by grinding his cock deeper because it was right there, making your eyes roll backwards into your head. "Oh F-" you shuddered as you found the spot you were looking for

Stefan looked at you with eyes fogged with pure lust. There was no way he could close his eyes when you moved like that above him. He lifted his hips up to meet yours and although you weren't planning on cumming so quickly, that pushed so far over the edge, you couldn't even see straight as your orgasm knocked the breath out of you. Your vision was blurred, the dull ringing in your ears made your head pound and your body convulsed embarrassingly on top of Stefan

Your pussy fluttered violently around his cock, gripping onto it in a way that made Stefan's body shiver from pure pleasure. He’s moaning loudly, no longer being able to hold back. He brought a hand up to wrap around your throat as he planted his feet on the bed, sat up slightly and started fucking up so hard into you that you damn near saw stars

Both of you were sweating heavily and your skin was burning hot by now but you didn't want to stop, no matter how far you were pushed into oversensitivity

You could tell he was close when you felt him twitch inside of you so you used all of your energy to circle your hips to meet his thrust. "Fuck y/n" was the last thing you heard being whispered near your ear as he spilled inside of you, collapsing on top of you but not entirely as to not crush you

You both layed there for a few minutes breathing heavily. You tapped Stefan's shoulder to tell him to get off of you. With a sigh he pulled out of you and flopped onto your side, pulling off the condom and tying it up. "You're really a dream" he chuckled softly as he threw the condom into a small garbage bin by his bed

"So you've said" you looked at him and smiled. The silence was comfortable, just both of you basking in your post orgasm glow and waiting for your breathing to calm down. Suddenly your phone rang loudly, you sat up quick and felt around for it, picking your pants up off the floor and pulling it out of the back pocket

It was your mom calling, you looked at Stefan with wide eyes and put a finger over your lips. "Hello?" You stood up and paced the room, not bothering to even put your undergarments back on

"Y/n, where are you? It's almost one in the morning"

You bit back the scoff you so badly wanted to release "I'm with Stefan mom. Did you forget that you sent me off to get married to your boss's son?"

She sighed heavily, you could picture her leaning against the counter, rubbing her temples. "But that doesn't mean stay out all night doing God knows what! You still stay under my roof while you're here"

This time you did scoff, rolling your eyes as well "mom excuse my language but what the fuck?" You shook your head as Stefan looked over at you in concern "you begged me to leave the house with a random guy in hopes of me getting married so you can relive that through me, you don't get to lecture me when I don't come home for a couple of hours"

"Now Y/n watch-"

She tried to speak but you just needed to let this out so you interrupted her. "He could've been a serial killer or a kidnapper and if anything had gone left you wouldn't even be hearing my voice right now" you felt your eyes sting with tears, trying as best as you could to blink them back before they could fall "you're lucky that I'm with someone who actually makes me feel a bit safe. I'm not coming home tonight and I'll be packing tomorrow and going back to New York. I love you but I don't love the constant nagging about my love life, you don't respect me or my wishes mom. I'm sick of it" you tried to catch a tear before it slipped but it was too late "get some sleep okay? Goodnight, I love you" you hung up the phone and just stood there, butt naked and facing the wall with tears silently rolling down your face

You wiped your face and took breaths before turning around "uh, I'm gonna go" you walked to the bed and started putting your clothes back on and Stefan just watched. You didn't know if he wanted to say something or if he just didn't care but either way you just wanted to go. As you were putting your shirt on that's when Stefan got up, quickly going to his closet to rummage through a whole bunch of clothes. He pulled out a pair of black gym shorts and a white sleeveless t-shirt

"It's not much but if you uh, want you can take a shower here and stay here for tonight" he scratched the back of his head with one hand while he held out the clothes with the other, it even looked like he was blushing a little, you couldn't help but crack a small smile

You bit your lip to try to hold the smile back "are you sure? I don't want to impose or anything" you said while grabbing the clothes from him

"You're not imposing" he walked up to you and lifted your chin up with his fingers "don't let your mom force you to do anything you don't want to do" the look in his eye made you want to obey every word he said so you nodded your head. He searched your face "I'm serious y/n. I love my mom but if I had allowed her to force me into marriage I wouldn't be who I am today, doing what I love. You're a beautiful woman with a lot going for you, if marriage isn't what you want then don't do it"

Without really thinking about it you pulled him in for a kiss. Both of you were still naked but it wasn't a sex hungry, heat filled kiss, it was passionate and slow and it made butterflies flutter in your belly, you've never felt that before. You pulled away with a big, dopey smile on your face "I won't do anything I don't want to do" you whispered, biting your lip to conceal yet another smile

"So you wanted to kiss me like that?" He teased with a huge smile on his face. You turned away from him and began walking to the bathroom, answering his question by looking over your shoulder and inviting him in with a tilt of your head

"Come shower with me and I'll let you know what I really want"

He laughed loudly and you couldn't help but join in, it was so contagious. "Oh you crazy crazy girl" he said as he followed behind you, ready for whatever you had to offer him

Maybe you don't plan on getting married anytime soon or dating to be honest but Stefan has become a constant in your life and you'd like to keep it that way and when the time comes when you both want to settle down, it wouldn't be too bad if it was with him

#chrissy 🐾 🐾#stefan salvatore #stefan x reader #I really like this one #stefan salvatore smut #tvd au

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