#the friendly banter they always have

[fischiee]

carwash sibs is OVER make way for mainelina sibs

[rivilu]

Highly recommend bringing Anders as the sole mage with you when recruiting Fenris at least once, because MAN the dialogue he has in that situation lives in my mind rent free

edit: here it is

[numericalbridge]

tbh, if Darius was meant to be a bad guy in s2a, his behavior in Eda's Requiem would be very strange and off. A vain villain who thinks spoiling his clothes is worse than rebelling against the Emperor? Sure. But you would think even the most vain person would react and lash out over almost getting killed with the corrupted spell and then having their arm sliced painfully by Raine? And yet he doesn't behave as you would expect. Yes, he catches and threatens Raine, but there is no personal 'you've almost got me killed/you will pay back for hurting me'. So if he was set up as villain his non-reactions would be a weird characterization choice.

[jackie-shitposts]

CRIKEY! Ahstraliah's one BEEEEEEG country!

[image description: A screenshot taken from the Netflix reboot of Carmen Sandiego. An overhead view of player in his room. He is smiling at his computer monitors in front of him. His hands hover over the keyboard. /End description]

Player says he was practicing because he wanted to "brush up on carmen's location" but i think it would be funnier if he was making fun of gray lmao

iconic player never change

[whicorzoo]

behavior like this baffles me bc i couldn't get myself to act like this without cringing and feeling guilty for months, much less unthinkingly defaulting to this kind of brutal withdrawal. maybe i'm just slightly-too-painfully aware of the people around me in a socially awkward way but i just don't understand how anyone could afford the strangers around them the same amount of acknowledgement and politeness as the wallpaper or an NPC.

it makes me want to ask these sorts of people: did your closest friends not also start out as strangers? how would you have become even friendly acquaintances with them if you didn't mutually extend respect? just because they became something to you doesn't mean that they were nothing before. your attachment to them doesn't suddenly give their existence meaning. now, this doesn't mean you have to treat every stranger with the intimacy and warmth of a longtime friend, but is it really so difficult to offer a smile or a friendly tone of voice? wouldn't you want even that small kindness extended to you in turn?

seeing people argue on twitter that we should not be nice to strangers and that strangers do not owe you respect or kindness and that if anyone asks you to be nicer ever they are entitled and a horrible person and being nice to people you don’t know is unpaid emotional labour and if you ask anyone to do it ever you are an abusive person. ha. hahahahahahahahahahaha

[hurtblossom]

Crush ln4

Pairing : Lando Norris x Female!Reader

Summary : Quadrant has a new videographer

Warnings : Angst, quite long, bad english, Lando being clueless (as always)

(Y/N) couldn’t believe she was here—working for Quadrant, his brand. When she’d gotten the offer, she had hesitated for a moment, unsure if being this close to Lando Norris would be a good idea. She’d been a fan of his for years, following his career from his early F1 days, her admiration growing with every race and every glimpse of his playful, goofy personality online. Somewhere along the way, admiration had turned into something more—a quiet, unspoken crush she’d never dreamed of acting on.

But when the opportunity to join Quadrant as a videographer came up, she couldn’t resist. It was a chance to work with an incredible team, hone her skills, and, well, maybe get to know Lando a little better. Not that he’d notice her, she thought wryly. Lando Norris didn’t seem like the type to look twice at someone like her.

Her first day on set, she was practically buzzing with nerves. Max had introduced her to the team, and everyone had been friendly, welcoming her into the fold. But Lando? He hadn’t even glanced her way. Too busy cracking jokes with Max and Ria, his energy filling the room like a spotlight she could never step into.

Still, she stayed in the background, focusing on her work, capturing the chaos of the group with her camera. That was her job, after all—to be invisible, to let the team shine while she stayed behind the lens. She told herself it was better this way. No awkward introductions, no chance to embarrass herself. But even as she worked, she couldn’t help stealing glances at him, her heart skipping every time he laughed or flashed that signature grin.

The shoot that day was arcade basketball, and the Quadrant crew was in rare form—teasing, shouting, and turning everything into a competition. Lando was at the center of it all, of course, trash-talking Max one second and tossing a ball wildly off-target the next. (Y/N) stayed behind her camera, quietly capturing every moment, trying not to let her smile show too much.

It wasn’t until halfway through the shoot that Lando finally noticed her.

“Who’s that?” he asked loudly, pointing at her mid-throw. The basketball clattered off the rim as the rest of the group burst into laughter.

Max rolled his eyes. “She’s been here all day, mate. That’s (Y/N). She’s our new videographer.”

“New videographer?” Lando repeated, his brow furrowing. He walked over, tossing the ball to the side. “And no one told me?”

“I assumed you’d notice,” Max shot back with a grin.

Lando ignored him, stopping in front of her with an apologetic smile. “Hi. Sorry about that. I’m Lando. Welcome to Quadrant.”

She swallowed hard, clutching the camera like a lifeline. Up close, he was even more magnetic, his warm eyes and easy smile making her heart race. “Hi. I’m (Y/N),” she managed, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

“You’ve been filming this whole time?” he asked, tilting his head. “Wow, I didn’t even notice. That’s impressive.”

She blushed, ducking her head. “That’s kind of the goal.”

Lando chuckled. “Fair enough. Well, glad to have you. Hope you’re ready for this lot—they’re a handful.”

“She’s already handling it better than you would,” Ria teased, earning another round of laughter.

(Y/N) smiled, relaxing slightly as the group’s banter filled the room again. But as Lando walked back to his game, she couldn’t help feeling the way her cheeks burned, her mind replaying the brief moment they’d shared.

The rest of the shoot went smoothly, but (Y/N) found it increasingly hard to concentrate with Lando in her peripheral vision. Every joke he cracked, every time he glanced her way, she felt her heart skip a beat. She knew she was being ridiculous—he was just being friendly, just doing his job. But still, she couldn’t shake the tiny flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was something more.

After the shoot, as the team started packing up, Lando approached her again. “Hey, (Y/N),” he said casually, hands in his pockets. “Thanks for today. You did great.”

“Thanks,” she replied, smiling up at him. “You guys made it easy. You’re all… pretty entertaining.”

He grinned. “Entertaining, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

She laughed softly, feeling a bit bolder. “Well, I’ve seen worse basketball skills, if that helps.”

Lando gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow. First day and already roasting me. I like it.”

Her cheeks warmed, but she smiled back, her nerves melting under his playful energy. For a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the room, the rest of the team fading into the background. But then Max called out, breaking the moment, and Lando gave her a quick nod before heading off, leaving her heart racing.

In the weeks that followed, (Y/N) settled into her role, quickly becoming an integral part of the team. She captured every wild moment, every inside joke, and every ridiculous stunt with precision, earning praise from everyone—including Lando. But the more time she spent around him, the harder it became to ignore her feelings.

He was just so… him. Funny, charming, effortlessly confident. She found herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t control, her quiet admiration growing with every shared laugh and fleeting glance.

But she kept her feelings hidden, afraid of what might happen if he found out. To him, she was just the camera girl, part of the team but always on the edges. And she told herself that was enough, even as her heart ached for more.

One evening, after a long day of filming, the team had dispersed, leaving just her and Lando in the studio. She was reviewing footage on her laptop when he wandered over, leaning against the table beside her.

“Got anything good?” he asked, peering at the screen.

She smiled, tilting the laptop so he could see. “Plenty of missed shots and bad jokes. Pretty standard.”

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “That’s Quadrant for you.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the footage play. But then Lando turned to her, his expression softer than usual. “You’ve been doing an amazing job, you know. I don’t think we’ve said that enough.”

Her heart fluttered at his words. “Thanks, Lando. That means a lot.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. “You’re really good at this, (Y/N). And… I’m glad you’re here.”

The sincerity in his voice took her by surprise, and she felt her cheeks warm under his gaze. She wanted to say something, to tell him how much his words meant, but the lump in her throat stopped her.

Instead, she smiled, her voice soft. “Thanks. I’m glad to be here.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, the air between them thick with unspoken words. But just as quickly as the moment had come, it passed, and Lando leaned back, flashing her a grin. “Alright, I’ll let you get back to it. Don’t make me look too bad in the edits, yeah?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “No promises.”

As he walked away, her heart swelled with both happiness and longing. She knew she couldn’t let herself hope for more—not yet. But for now, she was content to stay behind the lens, capturing every moment, every laugh, every smile, knowing that even if he didn’t see her the way she saw him, at least she could be a part of his world.

Weeks had passed since (Y/N) had joined Quadrant, and every day felt like a mix of joy and heartbreak. Working alongside Lando was everything she’d dreamed of—he was kind, funny, and always made her feel like a part of the team. But the more time she spent with him, the more her crush deepened, and with it, the painful realization that he didn’t see her that way.

Still, she told herself it didn’t matter. Being close to him, even as just a colleague, was enough. Or at least, that’s what she kept repeating.

The team was gearing up for another shoot, and (Y/N) was already busy setting up the cameras and mics. Lando was running late, as usual, and the rest of the group was milling around, chatting and joking. When Lando finally arrived, he wasn’t alone.

“Guys, this is Magui,” he announced, stepping into the room with a confident grin. The girl beside him was striking—beautiful, with long, wavy hair and a radiant smile that seemed to light up the room. “She’s joining us for today’s video.”

(Y/N)’s heart sank the moment she saw them. Magui was clearly close to Lando; the way he stood next to her, the ease of their laughter, the little glances they exchanged—it was painfully obvious.

Max raised an eyebrow. “New guest star, huh? Fancy.”

Magui laughed, her voice warm and melodic. “I’m just here to make sure Lando doesn’t embarrass himself too much.”

“Good luck with that,” Ria quipped, earning a round of laughter.

(Y/N) forced a smile, keeping her head down as she fiddled with her equipment. Her chest felt tight, but she told herself it was nothing. Lando was free to bring whoever he wanted into the group—it wasn’t like she had any claim on him. But as she watched them banter, the way Lando’s face lit up every time Magui said something, the ache in her heart grew.

The video shoot was a nightmare for (Y/N). Not because of technical issues—everything went smoothly on that front—but because every moment felt like a knife twisting in her chest. Lando and Magui were front and center, their chemistry undeniable as they joked and competed with the rest of the team. Magui fit in effortlessly, her charisma matching Lando’s energy in a way that made it impossible to look away.

“Magui, you’ve got to beat him at this,” Max called out during one of the challenges, handing her the controller.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Magui said, her eyes sparkling. “I’ve got this.”

Lando laughed, leaning closer to her. “You think you can beat me? Good luck.”

Watching them, (Y/N) felt like an outsider. She stayed behind the camera, filming their interactions, capturing the moments that everyone else would find entertaining—but for her, it was torture. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering what it would be like if she were the one standing next to him, sharing those laughs, being the one to catch his attention.

When the shoot finally wrapped up, (Y/N) was the first to start packing up her gear. She wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, before anyone noticed the strain on her face.

But as she was putting away the last of her equipment, Lando approached her, his usual grin in place. “Hey, (Y/N), thanks for today. You made us all look good as always.”

She forced a smile, avoiding his gaze. “Just doing my job.”

He tilted his head, studying her for a moment. “You okay? You’ve been quiet today.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, her voice clipped. “Just tired.”

Lando frowned, clearly not convinced, but before he could press further, Magui called out to him from across the room. “Lando! Come on, we’re heading out!”

He glanced back at (Y/N), hesitating for a moment before nodding. “Alright. See you later?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, watching as he walked away, his attention already back on Magui.

As the door closed behind them, (Y/N) sank into her chair, her hands trembling slightly. She told herself it was silly to feel this way, that she was just reading too much into things. But the truth was undeniable: she had fallen for Lando, and watching him with someone else felt like her heart was breaking in slow motion.

That night, (Y/N) sat in her small apartment, staring at the footage she’d captured earlier. She watched as Lando and Magui laughed, the way he looked at her with an ease and warmth that he’d never shown (Y/N). Her chest ached as she replayed the clips, over and over, the reality of the situation sinking in.

Lando didn’t see her. Not the way she wanted him to. To him, she was just the camera girl, the one who stayed in the background, capturing the moments that made him shine. And while she was proud of her work, proud to be a part of the team, she couldn’t help but feel invisible.

The next day, the Quadrant group chat was buzzing with messages about the next video, everyone chiming in with ideas and suggestions. Lando sent a message saying he wanted to bring Magui back for another shoot, and the rest of the team seemed thrilled.

(Y/N) stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She wanted to be happy for him, to support him the way she always had. But the thought of watching them together again, of filming moments that felt like they were cutting her open from the inside, was almost too much to bear.

Before she could overthink it, she typed out a quick message: “I’m feeling under the weather. Might need to sit this one out.”

Lando responded almost immediately. “That’s okay! Rest up. We’ll handle it.”

His words were kind, but they only made her feel worse. She wanted him to notice, to ask her what was wrong, to care. But he didn’t. And that, more than anything, told her what she needed to know.

As she set her phone down, tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. She’d known from the start that her crush on Lando was one-sided, but seeing it play out so clearly, so painfully, made it impossible to ignore.

For now, all she could do was step back, focus on her work, and remind herself that sometimes, even when you care deeply about someone, the best thing you can do is let them go.

~~~

(Y/N) took the next few days off, staying away from the group chat and ignoring messages from the team. She needed space—not just from Lando, but from the whole world of Quadrant that revolved around him. She threw herself into editing past footage, focusing on the technical details to distract herself from the pain still lodged in her chest.

But avoiding Lando was harder than she thought. Every video she edited, every laugh and playful insult she clipped together, reminded her of him. Of the warmth he brought into every room, of the little sparks of kindness he’d shown her when she thought, for just a moment, that he might see her as more than the girl behind the camera.

Two Weeks Later

(Y/N) was back on set, quietly filming another chaotic Quadrant shoot. Magui was there again, her presence bright and cheerful as always. She was every bit as perfect as (Y/N) had remembered—funny, confident, and effortlessly charming. And Lando? He seemed happier than ever, his energy electric whenever Magui was around.

(Y/N) did her best to stay in the background, focusing on her work and keeping her distance. But it didn’t take long for Lando to notice.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he called out during a break, jogging over to her as the others grabbed drinks. “You okay? You’ve been really quiet lately.”

She forced a smile, adjusting her camera to avoid looking at him directly. “I’m fine. Just busy.”

“Busy?” he repeated, frowning slightly. “You’ve barely said a word to anyone. Did I do something wrong?”

Her heart twisted at the concern in his voice. Of course, Lando would think it was about him, but not for the reason he’d assume. She shook her head quickly. “No, you didn’t do anything. I’ve just… had a lot on my mind.”

Lando studied her, his brows furrowing. “Are you sure? Because if there’s something bothering you, you can tell me.”

The sincerity in his tone made her throat tighten. She wanted to tell him—wanted to say everything she’d been holding back. But as she looked at him, his eyes filled with concern, she knew she couldn’t. He wasn’t hers to confide in. He never had been.

“I’m fine, Lando,” she said softly. “Really.”

He hesitated, clearly unconvinced, but before he could press further, Magui called out to him, waving him over. He glanced back at (Y/N), looking like he wanted to say more, but then turned and jogged toward Magui, his smile lighting up as he joined her.

(Y/N) watched them from behind the camera, the ache in her chest spreading like wildfire. She felt silly, pathetic even, for letting this affect her so much. But no matter how hard she tried to push it down, the pain refused to fade.

Later That Evening

The shoot had wrapped, and (Y/N) stayed behind to pack up her equipment while the others headed out for dinner. She’d made an excuse about needing to finish editing, though in truth, she just couldn’t bear to sit across from Lando and Magui, pretending everything was fine.

The studio was quiet, the only sound the hum of her laptop as she loaded the footage from the day. She tried to focus, but her mind kept drifting, the weight of everything she felt pressing down on her.

“Still here?”

The voice startled her, and she turned to see Lando standing in the doorway, his hoodie pulled up, his hair slightly messy from the day. He looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“I thought you were going to dinner with the others,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged, stepping inside. “I was, but… I wanted to check on you first.”

She swallowed hard, looking down at her laptop. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that,” he said, leaning against the table beside her. “But I don’t believe you.”

His words made her chest tighten, and she felt the tears she’d been holding back threatening to spill. She shook her head, trying to keep her voice steady. “It’s nothing, Lando. Really. I’m just… tired.”

“(Y/N),” he said softly, his tone gentle but insistent. “Talk to me. Please.”

She looked up at him then, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, she considered telling him everything. But the thought of his reaction—of the awkwardness, the pity, the possibility of losing what little connection they had—stopped her.

“It’s not something you need to worry about,” she said instead, her voice cracking slightly. “Just… let it go.”

He didn’t move, his eyes searching hers, and for a moment, she thought he might push further. But then he nodded, stepping back. “Okay,” he said quietly. “But if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

She watched as he left, the door closing softly behind him. And as the silence settled over her once again, the tears finally fell, her heart breaking under the weight of everything she couldn’t say.

A Week Later

The next video shoot was another big one, with the entire team involved, including Magui. (Y/N) tried to focus on her work, but it was harder than ever, especially with Lando and Magui’s playful chemistry on full display.

During a break, (Y/N) stepped outside for some air, her chest feeling tight. She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and trying to steady her breathing.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Her eyes snapped open to see Lando standing a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, his expression serious.

“I haven’t—”

“You have,” he interrupted gently, stepping closer. “And I don’t know why, but it’s been driving me crazy.”

She looked away, her heart pounding. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Stop saying that,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “You’re not fine, (Y/N). I can see it. And if it’s something I did—”

“It’s not you,” she blurted out, cutting him off.

He frowned, confused. “Then what is it?”

She hesitated, the words on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to say them. Instead, she shook her head, forcing a weak smile. “It’s nothing, Lando. Forget it.”

He stared at her for a long moment, his frustration clear. But before he could say anything else, Max called out for him from inside, breaking the moment.

Lando sighed, glancing toward the door. “This isn’t over,” he said softly before walking away.

As she watched him go, (Y/N) felt the weight of her unspoken feelings pressing down on her once again. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep this up, but one thing was clear: something had to change—whether it was her feelings for Lando or her place in his world.

And as the door closed behind him, she realized that letting go of Lando might be the hardest thing she’d ever have to do.

~~~

The decision didn’t come easily, but (Y/N) knew it was the right one. Every day with Quadrant had become a painful reminder of what she couldn’t have, of the unspoken feelings she carried for Lando and the unshakable knowledge that he didn’t feel the same. Watching him with Magui, seeing how naturally she fit into his world, was more than (Y/N) could handle. It was time to step back, to take care of herself before the weight of it all consumed her.

Reading his words brought tears to her eyes. She’d grown to love the team, their chaotic energy, and even the endless teasing. It wasn’t their fault she’d fallen for someone who didn’t see her the way she saw him. Still, she felt a pang of guilt as she hit send on her final reply.

~~~

She didn’t tell Lando directly. She wasn’t sure how, or if he’d even care. Max said he’d inform the team, and that felt like enough. Packing up her gear and stepping away from the studio for the last time was bittersweet. She lingered in the quiet space, memories of laughter and camaraderie playing in her mind.

As she locked the door behind her, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when Lando found out she was gone. Would he even notice? The thought lingered as she drove home, a mixture of sadness and relief washing over her.

Two Days Later

The first message came from Ria.

Ria: “What’s this about you leaving? Are you okay? Let me know if you need to talk.”

Then Max.

Max: “Hope you’re doing alright. The studio’s not the same without you.”

She responded to each of them, assuring them she was fine, that she just needed time. But the message she was dreading never came. Lando didn’t reach out—not a text, not a call. The silence was deafening, confirming what she’d feared all along: he didn’t notice. Or worse, he didn’t care.

Weeks Passed

(Y/N) threw herself into freelance work, taking on projects that let her focus on her craft without the emotional baggage that came with Quadrant. Slowly, the ache in her chest began to fade. She stopped checking their YouTube channel obsessively, stopped scrolling through photos of Lando and Magui together. She convinced herself that she was moving on.

But one evening, as she was editing late into the night, her phone buzzed with an unexpected notification.

Lando Norris: Hey. Can we talk?

Her heart skipped a beat, her fingers frozen over her keyboard. She stared at the message, a flood of emotions rushing in. She wanted to ignore it, to pretend she hadn’t seen it, but her curiosity—and the tiny flicker of hope she couldn’t extinguish—got the better of her.

(Y/N): Sure. What’s up?

The reply came almost instantly.

Lando: Are you free to meet? I’d rather do this in person.

Her stomach churned with nerves, but she agreed, setting a time and place for the next day. She spent the night replaying every possibility in her mind, trying to prepare herself for whatever he wanted to say.

~~~

They met at a quiet café, tucked away from the usual chaos of their lives. Lando was already there when she arrived, his hat pulled low, his expression uncharacteristically serious. He stood as she approached, offering her a small, hesitant smile.

“Hey,” he said softly, gesturing to the seat across from him. “Thanks for coming.”

She nodded, sitting down and folding her hands in her lap. “What’s this about, Lando?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Max told me you left.”

Her throat tightened, but she kept her voice steady. “I needed some time.”

“Why?” he asked, leaning forward, his gaze searching hers. “Did something happen? Was it… me?”

The vulnerability in his voice caught her off guard. She hesitated, unsure how to respond. “It wasn’t you, Lando. Not entirely.”

His brows furrowed. “Then what? You were such a big part of the team, (Y/N). I… I miss having you around.”

Her heart ached at his words, but she forced herself to stay grounded. “It’s complicated.”

“Then explain it to me,” he pressed, his voice soft but insistent. “Because I feel like I missed something, and I don’t want to keep missing it.”

She met his gaze, the weight of everything she’d held back pressing down on her. Taking a deep breath, she finally spoke.

“I liked you, Lando,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I liked you more than I should have, and it made things… hard. Watching you with Magui, being part of the team but always on the outside—it hurt. So I left, because I couldn’t keep doing that to myself.”

His eyes widened, surprise flickering across his face. For a moment, he said nothing, and she braced herself for the rejection she knew was coming.

“I had no idea,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought… I thought you just didn’t want to get close.”

She shook her head, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I couldn’t get close, Lando. Not when you didn’t see me the way I saw you.”

He leaned back, running a hand over his face. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. And Magui… she’s just a friend. I never realized how it must have looked.”

She blinked, his words taking a moment to register. “Just a friend?”

He nodded, his expression earnest. “I didn’t… I don’t feel that way about her. I didn’t even know you felt this way about me.”

Silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken possibilities. Lando reached across the table, his hand brushing hers lightly.

“Is it too late to fix this?” he asked softly.

(Y/N) looked at him, her heart torn between hope and fear. She didn’t know the answer, but for the first time in weeks, she felt the faintest spark of possibility. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late to rewrite their story.

please comment and let me know what you thought of the story

[silquids]

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 park sunghoon x fem!reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 having lee heeseung as your brother definitely has it's ups and downs. despite being a month older than him, he was always there to defend you and help you out in tough situations. the downside? his cute best friend named park sunghoon was totally off limits.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 brothers bestfriend x fem!reader. friends to lovers. college au.

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 enhypen members, jiheon (fromis_9) as yn's face, karina (aespa) & keeho (p1harmony)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 tinie tiny angst, swearings/cursings, suggestive jokes, friendly bantering, kys jokes

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 started sep 15 2024 completed oct 17 2024

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 CLOSED! @kpislby @jakeflvrz @univershoon @blvengene @mnxnii @eleanorheartschishiya @rkivesfilm @a-warners-girl0-0 @vveebee @yourssincerely-mimi @rikimuranishi02z @gweoriz @m1m1-70 @pshwrldd @onlyhyunjin @heelovesmeknot @shuichi-sama @viagumi @luvvhaerin @dismaldiary @intojaeyun @hoonatic @iilwji @morkiee @hoonieyun @yuniesluv @r1kification @channieismylove @who-tf-soddhi @nshmurarki @jiaant11 @isa942572 @champangejournal @lelsforlino @kurominjae @jiiyen @lxsunshine @psychotic-girl-666 @nujeskz @gqthicghoul @saeivra @evrymysun @augustloaf @mitmit01 @winuvs @simpjay @missychief1404 @yangjungwonnie @nctrawberries @nyfwyeonjun @nightmarej1n @tlnyjoong @enhabooks @jayjw16enxp @in-somnias-world

bold can't be tagged.

𝑳𝑰𝒁𝒁𝑰𝑬 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬'𝑺 yippieeee :3 second smau for sunghoon is here! i'm very excited to start this one.. randomly got this idea when i was listening to Pretty Boy by Isabel LaRosa.

PROFILES ONE & PROFILES TWO

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺

leave my future wife alone

thirst trap in the morning

boy what the hell

ouu that's not!

he's so hot

are you flirting with me?

have some decorum

hot trioz hang out

get lost sunwoo

wtf is heehoon?

make it happen

dress to impress

sneaky link?

cant lie to you

connecting the dots

our parents for real

amusement park day

not the hard launch

sunwoo vs sunghoon

heeseung finds out

day 69 without heeseung

she means the world to me

dude we're get the band back together

sorry feeling evil

man i hate happy couples

[amirasainz]

young f1 driver who is very closed off and while she got close to the grid she is still very closed off with her personal life and they don’t know much about her…. ollie comes for a race he fills in or it watch her and the grid suddenly sees her smiling and laughing and touching ollie and like ohh

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🤍

The Ollie effect

The Red Bull garage buzzed with its usual pre-race energy. Yn, at just 18 years old, was the youngest driver on the Formula 1 grid. Her ascension had been nothing short of meteoric. She was a prodigy, a natural talent in the car, but a bit of an enigma outside of it.

The grid knew her as reserved and quiet. Yn was friendly and always happy to hang out, but there was a wall no one had managed to climb. She was the one listening intently to stories, smirking at their jokes, but never really sharing much herself. The grid had long accepted it; Yn was just like that.

---

It was the morning of the Monaco GP when Yn strolled into the paddock, her cap pulled low over her face.

“Yn! Morning!” Lando called out as she walked by McLaren’s hospitality. She raised a hand in greeting, her small smile fleeting before she disappeared into Red Bull’s motorhome.

“She’s always like that,” Charles said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Cool, but mysterious.”

“Have any of you ever seen her properly smile?” Pierre teased, taking a sip of his coffee.

“She does smile, you know,” George defended, earning skeptical looks.

“Not with us.” Carlos leaned back in his chair. “She’s always listening, never talking. Like a spy gathering intel.”

---

Later, the drivers gathered in the lounge for the usual pre-race banter. Yn was there too, perched on a chair in the corner, her headphones around her neck, fiddling with her phone.

“Alright, Yn,” Daniel started with his signature grin, “you’re in Monaco now. You gotta give us something. A secret. A story. Anything!”

She smirked, rolling her eyes. “Nice try, Ricciardo.”

“Come on!” Lando chimed in. “We share everything, and you’re like a closed book. Spill something!”

Yn shrugged, nonchalant as ever. “I like listening to your stories.”

“See?” Charles groaned. “Impossible.”

---

The morning passed, and the buzz around the paddock shifted as news broke: Ollie, a promising young driver from F2, was set to fill in for another team this weekend. It wasn’t unusual for reserve drivers to step in, but what caught everyone’s attention was Yn’s reaction.

She was standing by her car, chatting with her engineer, when Ollie walked into the garage. Yn’s entire demeanor shifted. Her face lit up with a smile so genuine and rare that her team did a double take.

“Ollie!” she called out, jogging over to him.

“Yn!” Ollie opened his arms as Yn practically launched into a hug. The pair laughed as they pulled apart, talking animatedly.

From the adjacent garage, Carlos nudged Charles. “Did you just see that?”

“Was that… Yn smiling?”

---

Throughout the day, the dynamic between Yn and Ollie was impossible to ignore. The two were inseparable, chatting, laughing, and even sharing little nudges and touches. It was a stark contrast to the usually reserved Yn everyone was accustomed to.

During lunch, the drivers couldn’t hold back their curiosity.

“So,” Lando began, leaning across the table, “you and Ollie, huh?”

Yn looked up from her plate, confused. “What about us?”

“That!” Pierre pointed. “The smiling, the touching, the actual talking.”

“What?” Yn frowned, her cheeks reddening slightly.

“You’re different with him,” Charles said bluntly. “You’re never like this with us."

Ollie, who had just joined them, plopped down next to Yn. “What’s going on?”

“Apparently, I’m different with you,” Yn said, her voice laced with sarcasm.

“Well, you are,” George said. “Not that it’s a bad thing. It’s just… surprising.”

Ollie laughed. “That’s because I’ve known Yn forever. She can’t hide from me.”

“Oh, really?” Daniel leaned forward. “Care to elaborate?”

Yn sighed, but there was a small smile on her lips. “We grew up together. Our families are close. He’s practically my best friend.”

“Practically?” Lando raised an eyebrow.

“Shut up, Norris,” Yn said, but the way she nudged Ollie with her shoulder gave it away.

---

For the rest of the weekend, the drivers watched as Yn continued to let her guard down around Ollie. It was clear he brought out a side of her none of them had seen before.

On race day, Yn was back to her focused, determined self, but between sessions, she could be found joking around with Ollie, her laughter echoing through the paddock.

“You know,” Carlos mused as they watched Yn and Ollie from afar, “I think we’ve been replaced.”

“By one guy?” Pierre scoffed. “Unacceptable.”

---

After the race, they finally cornered Yn in the lounge.

“Alright,” Daniel said, crossing his arms. “Spill. What’s the deal with Ollie?”

Yn sighed dramatically. “He’s a friend. A really old friend. Happy?”

“Not even close,” Lando said. “We need details.”

“It’s not that deep,” Yn said, but there was a softness in her eyes. “He’s just someone I’ve always trusted. That’s all.”

“Translation: He’s her favorite,” Charles teased.

“Shut up,” Yn muttered, but her smile gave her away.

---

For the first time, the grid saw a different side of Yn—a girl who could let her walls down and just be herself. It was a glimpse into the hidden chapters of her life, and while they still had a lot of questions, they were content to wait.

“She’s finally human,” Pierre joked as Yn and Ollie walked by, deep in conversation.

“Hey!” Yn called back, flipping them off with a grin.

And just like that, Yn wasn’t so much of a mystery anymore.

[dksfml]

scripted - yjw

pairing: yang jungwon x reader x nishimura riki genre: ULTRA fluff, tiny angst, unrequited love, jealousy, love triangle (if you squint) word count: 10.3k summary: where you wrote a screenplay for your theater project about your sweet daydreams about jungwon, which got chosen for your class to present to the entire school. with him cast as the male lead while you, as the director, watch another girl play your own life story.

'Cause I, I don't wanna say what's scripted Whether you aren't with it I know what I need

The rumors about your crush on Jungwon weren’t just whispers—they were facts etched into the walls of the school. Everyone knew. Your friends, your classmates, even the juniors who only knew you by name. You had always been comfortable with it. Why wouldn’t you be? Jungwon was, by all standards, crush-worthy.

He was the type of guy people noticed instantly. Good looks, a quick wit, and a confidence that bordered on cocky but never quite crossed the line. He was friendly with everyone, not a single person immune to his easy charm. And you? You were no exception.

It was almost comical how blatant your admiration for him was. You didn’t try to hide it, laughing along with your friends when they teased you for staring at him during lunch or lingering too long by his desk. For the longest time, you were fine being the girl with the obvious crush. It was harmless fun.

But then the school retreat happened.

It had been a late-night campfire activity, the kind designed to foster trust and openness. Under the flickering firelight, with everyone’s attention pinned on you, someone dared you to confess your feelings to Jungwon.

At first, you laughed it off. “Why should I? Everyone already knows.”

But the chant started: “Do it! Do it!” Your friends joined in, and even Jungwon—sitting across from you, grinning in that infuriatingly charming way—raised an eyebrow as if daring you to go through with it.

So, you did. You stood up, brushed the dirt off your hands, and announced, “Jungwon, I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time.”

It was meant to be bold, confident, a way of taking control of the narrative that had always surrounded you. But as the laughter and applause erupted, you noticed the way Jungwon’s smile faltered. He chuckled, scratched the back of his head, and said, “Thanks, Y/N. That’s… flattering.”

Flattering. That was it. No reciprocation, no playful banter to ease the sting. Just a polite brush-off in front of everyone.

You didn’t let it show, of course. You sat back down, forced a smile, and played along with the jokes that followed. But something inside you shifted that night.

Since then, the teasing felt different—less like harmless fun and more like salt in a wound.

Weeks later, when your media studies professor announced that your play had been chosen for the class project, the room erupted into chaos.

Gasps of excitement rippled through the room, followed quickly by hushed murmurs. Your classmates exchanged knowing glances, the kind that made your stomach churn.

“Of course, her script won,” someone whispered, loud enough for you to catch. The words were casual, almost dismissive, as if your victory was inevitable—not because of your skill, but because of the ever-present rumors surrounding you.

“She’s good at this stuff,” another voice chimed in, but it was tinged with something less kind, as though your talents were overshadowed by something else entirely.

And then it came: “I bet Jungwon’s the inspiration for her male lead.”

That one landed like a punch.

You stiffened slightly, forcing your expression to remain neutral. Showing any reaction would only fuel the fire. Instead, you stood and walked to the front of the classroom with measured steps, pretending not to notice the smirks or the pointed glances being exchanged.

“It’s a well-written piece,” your professor said warmly, handing you back your script. Her genuine praise should have felt like a balm, but the weight of your classmates’ stares made it hard to savor the moment. “You’ll be the director, too, so start preparing.”

You nodded, managing a polite smile. “Thank you, ma’am.”

As you turned to return to your seat, you could feel the whispers start up again, quieter now but no less cutting.

“Did you hear about the retreat?” one voice said. “Yeah. She confessed to him in front of everyone.” “And he didn’t say anything back.” “Awkward…”

The words followed you like a shadow as you sat down, gripping the edges of the script.

This was supposed to be a win—a moment of pride for your writing—but instead, all you could think about was how the story you’d poured your heart into was about to be dissected by the very people who had watched you get rejected.

You’d spent countless nights drafting this play, pouring your soul into the characters, crafting a story that felt raw and honest. But now, all you could hear was the echo of your own confession, the way Jungwon had smiled politely, like he didn’t want to hurt your feelings but didn’t know what else to say.

Flattering. That’s what he had called it.

The memory burned, and for a fleeting moment, you considered pulling your script from the project entirely. But no—that would only make things worse. The last thing you wanted was to give anyone more ammunition to use against you.

So instead, you forced yourself to meet the professor’s eyes again as she moved on to announce the rest of the assignments. You sat there, quiet and composed, as if the whispers didn’t bother you.

The first group meeting for the play began in a chaotic hum of chatter and excitement. Despite your nerves, you stood at the front of the room, gripping the script like it was the only solid thing in your world. As the director, you knew you had to project confidence, even as the weight of everyone’s expectations pressed down on you.

“Alright, let’s get started,” you began, forcing your voice to sound steady. “We’ll need strong actors for the leads. There’s the rich male lead and the pauper female lead, they need to have believable chemistry.”

You barely got the words out before someone shouted from the back, “Jungwon should be the male lead!”

The room exploded with agreement, your classmates’ voices blending into a whirlwind of approval.

“Yeah, he’s perfect for it!” “Jungwon’s already the campus heartthrob—he basically is the rich boy.” “And he’s a natural actor!”

The noise rang in your ears, but you managed to nod as though the suggestion didn’t bother you. Inside, your chest felt tight. This was inevitable, wasn’t it? Of course, they’d choose him.

You raised a hand to quiet the room. “Jungwon, are you okay with that?” you asked, keeping your tone carefully neutral, professional, like this was any other task.

All eyes turned to him as he leaned back in his chair, the corners of his lips tugging into that easy grin that made your stomach twist.

“Sure, why not?” he replied casually, like it was no big deal.

The ease with which he accepted stung more than it should have, and you hated yourself for letting it bother you. But that smile—the same one that had made your heart flutter countless times—felt sharper now, like a blade.

“Great,” you said briskly, moving on as though you weren’t fighting to keep your composure. “For the female lead…”

“How about Minji?” someone chimed in before you could finish.

The room buzzed again with approval. Minji, with her long, glossy hair and angelic features, was undeniably beautiful. She was talented, too—her voice could silence a room, and her presence commanded attention. And then there was the one thing that made your stomach churn: her closeness to Jungwon.

“She’d be perfect,” another classmate added enthusiastically. “She and Jungwon already have great chemistry.”

You clenched your jaw, forcing the muscles in your face to stay neutral. This was your moment to speak up, to push for a different choice, but what could you say? Everyone already assumed you’d written the male lead with Jungwon in mind. Picking anyone else now would only make it more obvious.

You turned to Minji, who was practically glowing under the attention. “Minji, are you in?” you asked, your voice sounding distant even to your own ears.

She flashed a dazzling smile, flipping her hair over her shoulder as if the decision had been made long before you even asked. “Of course!” she chirped, casting a playful glance at Jungwon.

It was a glance that made the whispers of their rumored closeness feel all too real.

“Perfect,” you said tightly, moving on to assign the rest of the roles. Your pen hovered over your notebook as your classmates debated the supporting cast, their voices buzzing around you like static.

The session ended quickly after that, with everyone chattering excitedly about their parts. You remained at the front, collecting stray papers and reminding everyone to bring their scripts for the first reading.

As the room cleared, you caught sight of Jungwon and Minji walking out together, their laughter echoing in the hallway.

You let out a slow breath, willing yourself not to dwell on it. This was your project, your story—and you’d see it through, no matter how much it stung.

The following afternoon, the cast gathered in a loose circle in the auditorium, scripts in hand, buzzing with the kind of energy that only came with new beginnings. You stood at the front, clipboard clutched tightly, feeling the weight of their eyes on you. As the director, you had to guide them through this. You had to remain composed, professional, and in control.

“Alright, let’s start from the top,” you said, your voice steady despite the anxious flutter in your chest. “We’ll read through the entire script first. Blocking and staging will come later.”

The hum of voices quieted as everyone found their places. The reading began smoothly, with the cast slipping into their roles as if they’d been made for them.

Jungwon, sitting with a relaxed posture, leaned forward slightly as he read his lines. His voice carried the same effortless charm he exuded in real life, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Each word felt natural, as if he wasn’t acting at all.

Minji was just as polished, her voice flowing with practiced ease. She smiled at the right moments, added depth to her lines, and cast Jungwon occasional glances that made their chemistry undeniable. The rest of the cast followed suit, and as much as you hated to admit it, the characters truly were coming to life.

But when you reached page 37, something inside you twisted.

Your eyes scanned the dialogue—the words you had written from a place of quiet vulnerability. It was a simple scene, one you thought would go unnoticed by everyone except you. But now, it felt like a spotlight was shining directly on your heart.

“We’ll skip this part,” you said quickly, your voice sharp enough to cut through the room’s focus.

There was a brief pause as everyone flipped to the page in question.

“Why skip it?” Jungwon’s voice broke the silence. His tone was curious but calm, the faintest hint of confusion in his furrowed brow as he studied you.

You met his gaze briefly, forcing a shrug. “It’s unnecessary,” you replied, injecting as much nonchalance into your tone as you could. “The pacing is better without it.”

Jungwon didn’t let it go. His eyes dropped to the script, scanning the scene you were trying to erase.

It was a quiet moment between the male and the female lead, walking side by side on their way to class. She teased him about skipping gym, and he promised, half-jokingly, that he’d join her next time.

Your chest tightened. The scene wasn’t just any scene. It was yours. A memory you cherished more than you wanted to admit; walking to gym class with Jungwon, just the two of you, back when things were simpler. Back when you could still let yourself enjoy the small moments without the weight of rejection looming over you.

Jungwon’s expression shifted as he read, his casual curiosity giving way to something softer. He looked up at you, his eyes searching yours with an almost cautious understanding.

“This…” he started, his voice quieter now, as though the realization struck him mid-sentence.

You turned your face away, refusing to let him see the crack in your armor. “It’s just a filler scene,” you said briskly, cutting him off. “Let’s move on.”

Minji, oblivious to the tension, glanced around before launching into her next line, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the group. The script reading resumed, but the energy in the room had shifted.

Jungwon’s usual ease and confidence seemed muted, his responses more measured and subdued. You could feel his eyes on you occasionally, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words.

As the session wore on, your focus remained on the script, your voice steady as you guided the cast. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the weight of his lingering gaze or the way your carefully guarded secret had come dangerously close to being exposed.

As the cast dispersed after the reading session, you stayed at the front, scanning your notes to look busy. Jungwon approached, the script dangling loosely in his hand, his expression unreadable.

“You’re good at this,” he said, his voice steady but quieter than usual.

“Thanks,” you replied without looking up, pretending to focus on the clipboard in your hands.

“You really wrote the screenplay very well,” he added after a beat, his tone careful, deliberate. “The school will really enjoy our performance, thanks to you.”

Your grip on the clipboard tightened for the briefest moment before you forced yourself to relax. You glanced up, keeping your face neutral. “Thanks, Jungwon. The story… I know that it’s a bit…”

He seemed to study you as he waits for you to finish your sentence, searching for something in your face, but you didn’t find the right word to say under his gaze. After your long pause, he nodded and turned to walk away.

But as his footsteps receded, you felt the weight of his gaze lingering, as though he wasn’t fully convinced.

The heavy sound of the auditorium doors creaking open snapped you out of your thoughts. A tall figure strolled in with an air of nonchalance—Riki, the ever-late and often-absent classmate.

“Wow, look who finally showed up,” someone from the remaining group called out, half-joking.

Riki grinned, unfazed by the attention. “What can I say? The world doesn’t stop turning without me.”

The teasing quickly shifted, and someone shouted, “All the roles are taken, dude! You’ll have to beg the director for a spot now.”

Riki’s eyes flicked to you instantly, his grin widening. He made his way over with a confidence that clashed with the fact he was perpetually absent.

You raised an eyebrow as he stopped in front of you, completely ignoring the clipboard in your hands or the seriousness in your posture.

“So, boss,” he began, crossing his arms. “What’s my role?”

“We’ve already assigned roles,” you replied flatly, not missing a beat. “You’re too late. You should’ve been here on time.”

Riki didn’t look even remotely deterred. Instead, he tilted his head, feigning a thoughtful look before shrugging. “Guess I’ll create my own role, then. Can I handle the choreography for the play?”

“What?” you asked, more baffled than angry.

“Relax,” he said with a wink. “It’s what I’m good at. You don’t want me acting anyway—I’d outshine everyone.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Riki raised a finger, cutting you off. “Trust me. I’ll do it right.”

There was something so audacious yet oddly reassuring in his tone that you found yourself momentarily speechless.

But then you snapped out of it. “Fine,” you relented. “But if you’re taking this seriously, you can’t skip practices anymore.”

Riki placed a hand on his chest in mock offense. “Do I look like the kind of guy who slacks off?”

“Yes,” you deadpanned.

He laughed, the sound echoing across the emptying auditorium. “Fair enough. See you at practice, boss.”

And just like that, he turned and strolled off, his bag slung over his shoulder as if he’d just secured the role of a lifetime.

You exhaled sharply, watching him leave. Jungwon, still standing at a distance, hadn’t said a word throughout the entire exchange. But you felt his gaze, quiet and observant, as if he were trying to piece together the dynamic between you and this latecomer who had confidently claimed a place in your play.

Shaking off the thought, you turned back to your notes, already bracing yourself for the chaos that Riki would undoubtedly bring to your carefully planned production

As the weeks of rehearsals progressed, one thing became undeniably clear—Riki was no longer the unreliable absentee everyone had pegged him to be.

“Is it just me, or has Riki been showing up every day?” one of your classmates whispered loudly during a break, eyeing him as he adjusted a prop onstage.

Another chimed in, “Yeah, and he’s actually… working. Who knew?”

You caught snippets of their conversation but chose not to engage. It was true, though. Ever since Riki had taken up the choreography, he’d been showing up not just on time but with energy and enthusiasm that sometimes even rivaled yours. His movements were precise, and he had a knack for motivating others to step up their game.

Still, you were wary. “Don’t let it get to your head,” you told him after one practice when he was lingering by the stage.

Riki only smirked, leaning against the edge of the stage. “Admit it—you’re impressed.”

You rolled your eyes, but his confidence was disarming.

One evening, during rehearsals, the cast gathered to practice a particularly intense scene between the leads. Jungwon and Minji were center stage, the script in Jungwon’s hand as he delivered his lines.

“I can’t let you leave,” he said, his tone calm but firm. His hand hovered awkwardly near Minji’s face, his fingers twitching slightly as if unsure where to place them.

“Jungwon, you’re supposed to grab her chin,” you reminded him, keeping your tone neutral as you pointed at the script. “It’s a pivotal moment of the play—it shows how desperate he is to get her to listen.”

Jungwon hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, I get that. I just… don’t want to make it awkward.”

Minji, ever professional, smiled encouragingly. “It’s fine, Jungwon. Just go for it.”

But as he nodded and turned back to her, his shoulders tensed, and his grip on the script tightened. His hand moved forward again but stopped short, hovering in mid-air as though weighed down by an invisible force.

You frowned, watching him closely. Something about his hesitation seemed deeper than stage fright. His gaze darted toward the ground, avoiding Minji’s eyes entirely. His other hand, clenched at his side, betrayed the nerves he was trying to hide.

“Jungwon,” you said, your voice softer this time. “What’s holding you back?”

He didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as if he were biting back words. When he finally spoke, his voice was low. “I just… don’t want to mess it up.”

The murmurs of impatience from the cast grew louder, and before you could say more, Riki stood up from where he’d been sitting near the edge of the stage.

Suddenly, Riki, who had been sitting cross-legged near the edge of the stage, stood up. “Let me show you how it’s done,” he said, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

The group fell silent, curious to see what he would do.

You blinked, caught off guard when Riki gestured toward you. “Come here,” he said.

“What? No,” you replied, instinctively taking a step back.

“C’mon, boss,” he teased, his tone light but his gaze steady. “You’re the director. Let’s give them a proper demonstration.”

You hesitated, but the expectant stares of your classmates left you with no choice. Reluctantly, you stepped onto the stage, your palms clammy as you stood opposite him.

“Okay,” Riki said, his voice dropping an octave. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your chin before tilting it up, so your eyes met his.

The intensity of his stare made your breath hitch. His grip wasn’t too tight, but it was firm enough to command attention. For a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

The room erupted in whistles and laughter.

“Wow, you guys look natural!” someone shouted, breaking the spell.

Another teased, “Riki, are you sure you’re not auditioning for the male lead?”

Your face burned as you quickly pulled back, avoiding everyone’s amused stares. “That’s enough,” you said, trying to sound authoritative. “Let’s get back to the scene.”

But as you walked offstage, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes lingering on you—or the way your heart had skipped a beat during those few seconds.

From the corner of the room, Jungwon sat silently, the script still in his hands. He hadn’t said a word during the exchange between you and Riki, but his expression was thoughtful, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched the interaction unfold.

When rehearsal resumed, he seemed quieter than usual, delivering his lines with less enthusiasm.

By now, the whispers about Riki’s sudden dedication were impossible to ignore.

“Seriously, who is this guy?” one of your classmates joked as they watched him adjust the blocking for a scene.

“He’s even showing up to classes he doesn’t need to be at,” another added.

Riki overheard and grinned as he walked past. “Guess I’m a changed man,” he quipped, winking in your direction.

You shook your head, hiding a smile. “Don’t push your luck.”

“I think I’m your star player, boss,” he shot back, his tone playful but self-assured.

Despite your best efforts to keep things professional, you couldn’t help but feel that the dynamic between you and Riki had shifted. Whether it was his newfound confidence or the easy camaraderie you had developed, he was no longer just the absentee classmate.

And though you tried to focus on the play, you couldn’t ignore the growing sense that he was slowly stealing the spotlight—both on and off the stage.

The last bell of the day had already rung, and most of your classmates were already packing up for the gymnasium, where the final recital practices were scheduled. You, however, were asked to go to your professor's office to give her an update on the progress of your play.

"How are things going?" she asked, sitting behind her desk as you entered.

You took a seat across from her, straightening the stack of papers in your hands. "Everything's on track," you said confidently. "The cast is showing great improvement, and we’re refining the blocking. The choreography is coming along well, too."

Your professor nodded, clearly pleased with your professionalism. "Good. I'm glad to hear it. Keep it up."

Then, she handed you a pile of scripts. "These are your classmates' plays. I accidentally forgot to return them, so I need you to give them back personally when you can."

You took the scripts, nodding, and tucked them under your arm. "Of course, I’ll make sure they get them."

"Great," your professor said, standing up. "You’re doing well with the play. Just make sure you keep the momentum going. Let me know if you need anything."

With a quick smile and a polite nod, you left her office. The hallways were deserted, the school echoing with the sound of your footsteps as you walked back to your classroom to drop off your things before heading to the gym.

Once you returned to the empty classroom, you placed the pile of scripts on your desk and started organizing them. The last thing you wanted was to carry a mess of papers with you to the gymnasium.

But just as you were about to finish, something slipped from the pile, falling to the floor with a soft thud. You crouched down, trying to grab it quickly, but in the process, the rest of the scripts followed, scattering in every direction.

"Great," you muttered under your breath, crouching down again to gather them all.

As you reached for the scattered pages, your eyes landed on one particular script—Jungwon’s. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the familiar handwriting on the cover.

Curious and, admittedly, a little nervous, you opened the script, flipping through the pages.

You froze.

The pages before you were filled with intimate details—details you never expected to see written down in such a way. It was his play, sure, but it was more than just a story—it was a record of everything you had ever experienced together, from his perspective.

The first scene you came across made your stomach flip. It was about the time you’d first noticed Jungwon at the vending machine—the way you both had awkwardly brushed past each other without ever speaking a word, and how, despite that, you felt something stir within you. Then, it was followed by a scene that took your breath away:

“He watched her, unsure how to approach her. His heart raced, but he was too afraid to speak. Would she even notice him?”

“She had no idea, but he had been quietly in love with her for a while now. He watched her with admiration from afar, unsure how to close the distance between them, afraid she wouldn’t feel the same.”

Your hands trembled as you read. It was about your confession to him, the moment you had told him how you felt, how he had turned you down, and how you had felt a part of you break. But what stopped your heart in its tracks was the next part:

“His chest tightened as he saw her face when she confessed. He didn’t know why he couldn’t just say the words back. He had wanted to, so badly. But the moment felt all wrong, the timing was off. He imagined confessing to her in a more intimate, personal space—just the two of them. He wanted to give her his best self when he said it, not under the scrutiny of friends. Not when she was the one taking the first step. That thought held him back."

"In that moment, seeing the hurt in her eyes, he understood just how much he had been lying to himself. He had always loved her, more than he had let on. But it was too late now. He had failed her."

You couldn’t breathe. The room spun around you as you tried to make sense of the words in front of you. His play—it wasn’t just about the story of two characters. It was about you. About him. About everything that had happened between the two of you.

And there it was, in black and white—his feelings for you, all these years, something he had never said aloud.

You were so caught up in the revelation that you didn’t hear the door open.

"Hey," a voice broke through your thoughts. Jungwon stood in the doorway, looking a bit concerned. "Everyone’s waiting for you. We’re about to start the practice."

You quickly snapped the script shut, your hands still trembling. Jungwon’s eyes flickered to the pile of papers you had spilled, his expression shifting when he saw the one you were holding.

Before you could say anything, he crossed the room quickly, reaching for the script you had been reading. "Give that to me," he said, his voice unusually serious.

You tried to pull it back instinctively, but Jungwon’s grip was firm. Without another word, he yanked it from your hands and tucked it under his arm.

"Jungwon—" you started, but he cut you off.

"Don’t," he said quietly, glancing at you with a flicker of something in his eyes—regret?

He quickly helped you gather the other scattered scripts, his movements swift but oddly gentle, as though trying to avoid causing any more tension. When everything was back in order, he straightened up, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

You nodded, still reeling from what you had just discovered. Without another word, you both left the classroom, walking side by side down the hall to the gymnasium.

The silence between you was thick, filled with unspoken words. You wanted to say something—anything—but you couldn’t find the right words.

And Jungwon? He didn’t say anything either. He simply walked beside you, his footsteps steady, his presence a quiet, unspoken reminder of everything that had just shifted between you.

As you approached the gymnasium, the muffled chatter and sounds of rehearsals filtered through the door. It was a stark contrast to the heavy silence between you and Jungwon. He paused briefly, glancing at you as if he wanted to say something but ultimately stayed silent. With a slight nod, he opened the door and stepped aside to let you enter first.

The cast was already bustling about, running lines and adjusting props. Riki, as usual, was at the center of the activity, demonstrating a dance sequence with a playful flair that drew laughter and cheers from everyone around him.

“Finally!” Riki called out when he spotted you. “Thought you’d abandoned us, boss.”

You forced a smile, but your mind was still stuck on Jungwon’s script. Riki must have noticed something off, because his grin faltered slightly as his eyes flicked between you and Jungwon.

“You good?” he asked, tilting his head. His voice was softer, more private, as he stepped closer.

“Yeah, just... long day,” you replied quickly, waving him off. The last thing you needed was more attention on whatever turmoil you were feeling.

Riki studied you for a moment longer before smirking. “Well, you’re here now. That’s all that matters.” He clapped his hands together, effectively pulling everyone’s focus back to the rehearsal. “Alright, people, let’s nail this!”

The next few hours passed in a blur, each moment charged with a mix of anticipation and tension. Jungwon, usually the calm and collected actor, was delivering his lines with an intensity that was hard to ignore.

His voice held a restrained urgency, as though every word carried more weight than it should. His eyes, too, were different today: dark, focused, and filled with an emotion that couldn’t quite be placed. It wasn’t anger or frustration, but something deeper—something unspoken.

Minji, always perceptive, noticed the change immediately. During one of the breaks, as the rest of the cast gathered around the table, she leaned in, a small but knowing smile on her lips.

“Jungwon, that was incredible! Whatever you’re channeling, keep it up.” Her voice was playful, teasing, but there was a certain depth in her eyes that suggested she wasn’t just complimenting his acting. She was recognizing something more—something raw, something between them.

Jungwon looked at her, his usual smile absent, replaced by a flicker of something complicated. For a brief moment, his gaze lingered on her, searching her face, as if weighing her words.

His lips parted slightly, but he didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he gave a slow nod, as though acknowledging her comment, but not quite willing to let go of the emotion he was carrying.

The chemistry between them was undeniable—electric, yet unspoken. It hung in the air like a tension neither was willing to address.

Minji noticed the pause, her expression softening as she regarded him. She wasn’t bothered by his silence; she was used to the layers beneath his exterior. But something in the way he looked at her—intense, almost vulnerable—made her heart skip a beat.

Something about the way their dynamic had shifted was undeniable, and Minji couldn’t help but wonder if Jungwon felt it too.

You, standing off to the side, watched the exchange with a quiet unease. You had become accustomed to their interactions during rehearsals—how they worked seamlessly together, how there was an unspoken rhythm between them.

But today, it felt different. There was a new level of intimacy in their shared glances, a quiet understanding that seemed to transcend the script.

Deciding to focus elsewhere, you turned your attention to Riki, who had the entire cast engaged in an impromptu choreography session. His infectious energy pulled everyone in, and even though you knew you had your own parts to direct, you couldn’t help but be distracted by the undercurrent of tension between Jungwon and Minji.

The way they stood near each other, their bodies close but not touching, was enough to make the air around them thick with unspoken words. Jungwon’s eyes would flicker toward Minji every so often, as though he couldn’t help himself, even as he pretended to focus on his lines. Minji, ever the professional, matched his energy, but there was something different in her demeanor too—an openness that seemed to invite his silent attention.

At one point, Minji laughed at something one of the other actors said, and Jungwon’s gaze followed her laugh, softening for a fraction of a second. He was caught in the moment, his usual composure slipping as he watched her.

For just a moment, it seemed like the world outside of them ceased to exist. Their chemistry was undeniable, a magnetic pull that neither could easily escape from.

As rehearsals continued, the dynamic between the two only grew more intense. Minji’s confidence fed off Jungwon’s intensity, and Jungwon seemed to find something in her presence that grounded him, making his performance richer, more layered.

The unspoken connection between them wasn’t just visible to the actors on stage, it was palpable to everyone in the room. The cast couldn’t help but notice the way they seemed to mirror each other’s movements, the way their eyes would meet at the most unexpected moments.

In your eyes, what they have was more than just good acting, it was something real. And you couldn’t ignore the weight of it—the way their relationship, both on and off stage, was evolving. The lines between performance and reality were blurring, and you couldn’t help but feel the emotional toll it was taking on all of you.

By the time rehearsal ended, you were exhausted, both physically and emotionally. As the cast began packing up, you lingered near the stage, tidying up stray props and papers.

“You’re still here?” Riki’s voice came from behind you. Turning, you found him leaning casually against a pillar, his bag slung over one shoulder.

“Just finishing up,” you replied.

He tilted his head, his playful grin returning. “Need help?”

You hesitated but shook your head. “It’s fine. Go ahead.”

Riki didn’t budge. Instead, he stepped closer, his expression softening. “Hey,” he said, his voice low. “You seem... distracted tonight. Did something happen?”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but the concern in his eyes stopped you. Riki’s usual teasing demeanor was gone, replaced by a sincerity that caught you off guard.

“It’s nothing,” you said after a pause. “Just... personal stuff.”

He didn’t press further, simply nodding as if to say he understood. “Well, if you need to talk—or vent—I’m around.” Then, with a wink, he added, “Can’t have my star director burning out before opening night.”

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but smile faintly. “Thanks, Riki.”

He gave you a mock salute before heading out, leaving you alone once more.

As you turned back to finish cleaning, you heard soft footsteps approaching. Glancing over your shoulder, you found Jungwon standing there, his hands shoved into his pockets. His gaze was cautious, almost apologetic.

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you nodded, setting down the props you were holding. Jungwon stepped closer, the distance between you shrinking as he lowered his voice.

“About the script…” Jungwon began, his voice tight, as though each word had to be pulled from him. He hesitated, running a hand through his hair, his expression flickering with something deeper—something he wasn't ready to reveal. “I didn’t mean for you to see it. It wasn’t... ready.”

You stood frozen, heart pounding in your chest, overwhelmed by the weight of the moment. The sudden shift in Jungwon, the vulnerability in his voice—it caught you off guard. “It’s not just a story, is it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, afraid of the answer but unable to hold back the question.

Jungwon’s gaze met yours, dark and intense, as if he were trying to carve his soul into the air between you. For a brief second, you saw it—the raw emotion swirling beneath the composed surface, something so fragile and real that it made your chest tighten. His lips parted as though he was about to say something, but then his eyes flickered away, as if he couldn’t bear to meet yours any longer.

“No,” he whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of the secret he could no longer keep, like a confession he’d been holding back for far too long. “It’s not…” His words hung in the air, a razor-thin thread between you that neither of you could escape.

The tension in the space between you was suffocating, thick with the unspoken things that had been festering for weeks, months, maybe even years. You could feel your breath catch in your throat as you stepped forward, your heart racing in your chest.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Your voice cracked, the question more painful than anything you’d expected. The confusion, the hurt, the feeling of betrayal—everything you had bottled up finally erupted, sharp and raw. “Why wait until now, Jungwon? Why couldn’t you just... say it?”

His eyes were closed for a moment, his jaw clenched as if he was fighting something fierce inside himself. When he opened them again, the depth of the emotion there nearly broke you. He exhaled sharply, a shaky breath that made the air between you both feel like it was thickening, suffocating you both.

“Because I’m scared,” he admitted, the words spilling out in a rush, as if he couldn’t hold them in any longer. He stepped closer, but the space between you felt like miles. His voice cracked, raw with vulnerability. “Scared that if I told you, if I showed you what I really feel… it would ruin everything. I’m scared that when you graduate, when you leave for college… you won’t need me anymore. That I’ll be just some fading memory, and you’ll walk away from me without a second thought. And I… I can’t bear that.”

His words cut through you, deep and jagged, breaking something inside you. Your chest tightened, the world spinning as his confession sank in. His voice trembled with emotion, and for a moment, you didn’t know whether to cry or scream, the weight of everything you’d ever wanted from him crashing down in waves.

“I...” You swallowed, your voice unsteady as your heart hammered in your chest. “You... you really think that? You think I would forget you? That just because you’re going away, I wouldn’t still need you? You really believe that, Jungwon?” You stepped even closer now, the words pouring out of you faster than you could catch them. “You could’ve told me before. You should’ve told me before. You know how much I like you. Hell, everyone on campus knows. You said you’re going out of town for college? Do you really think that would change how I feel? It doesn’t. It never would’ve.”

Your voice broke as the last words slipped from your mouth, the emotion that had been simmering under the surface for so long finally breaking free. You weren’t sure when you had taken the step forward, but now, there was nothing between you but the distance of his unspoken words.

Jungwon’s face was tortured, like he was carrying the weight of something too heavy to bear. He bit his lip, his eyes filled with regret and something else—something deeper. And then, as if he couldn’t take the space between you any longer, he closed the distance, his breath warm against your skin.

But just as the tension reached its breaking point, the world seemed to shift. A loud crash, followed by a piercing scream from the far side of the auditorium, shattered the moment. The entire room fell into stunned silence.

You whipped your head around to see Minji sprawled on the floor, clutching her ankle, her face twisted in shock and pain.

The chaos erupted in an instant—cries of panic, footsteps scrambling toward her. But as you stood there, frozen, your heart still racing, all you could feel was the sting of everything unsaid, the weight of Jungwon’s confession hanging in the air, unfinished.

He hadn’t meant to pull away. Neither of you had. But in the next breath, everything had changed.

The commotion had taken everyone by surprise. Minji had been practicing a particularly complicated scene when she slipped, falling awkwardly and injuring her ankle badly. The room fell into chaos, the cast members rushing to her side, their faces filled with panic as she clutched her leg in pain.

“Someone get the nurse!” you shouted, but you were already on your way over, kneeling beside Minji, trying to calm her down. Jungwon was right beside you, his usual composed expression slipping into something much more concerned.

The moment the news came through, it felt like the entire world stopped. The hospital had confirmed that Minji had severely sprained her ankle—no one could have anticipated how badly she’d hurt herself, and now, there was no way she would be able to perform for at least two weeks, maybe more. The timing couldn’t have been worse. The performance was just days away, and without Minji, the play might not go on.

The cast gathered in the rehearsal room, tension thick in the air. You could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you, the silent expectation building with every passing second. The murmurs began almost immediately as they discussed who could possibly fill in for Minji at the last minute.

“We could call in an understudy,” one member suggested, clearly grasping at straws.

“None of the understudies know the part as well as Minji does,” another replied, shaking their head. “We don’t have time for that.”

“We’ll figure something out. We’ll find someone who can—” Riki cut himself off, his face drawn with concern as he glanced at the empty space where Minji usually stood.

The silence that followed felt deafening. It was clear to everyone that there was no one else who could take over the role in such a short time. That’s when one of the cast members, a girl who had always been pragmatic to the point of bluntness, turned toward you. Her gaze was unwavering.

“Well... if we’re being realistic,” she began, the words hanging heavy in the air, “you know the lines, right?”

You froze, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. “I—what?” you stammered, your stomach sinking as her eyes bored into you. The thought of stepping into Minji’s shoes, even for a moment, felt like an impossible task.

“You’ve been working with her the whole time and directed this whole play,” she continued, a hint of impatience in her voice. “You’re the only one who knows her part well enough to do this. Plus, you’re the one who wrote the play.”

“I—” You faltered, panic creeping into your throat. “I don’t know if I can...”

“You don’t have a choice,” another voice cut in sharply. It was Riki. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. “It’s you or no one. We don’t have time for hesitation. The play is in a week.”

The other cast members exchanged uneasy glances. Some of them, like Riki, seemed convinced that you were the only viable option, but others looked skeptical, unconvinced that you could actually pull it off.

“It’s not just about knowing the lines,” someone else muttered, crossing their arms. “It’s about embodying the role. You’re the director, sure, but stepping in for Minji? That’s a whole different challenge.”

The room fell into a tense silence, and you could feel the weight of the decision bearing down on you. Your palms were sweating, your mind racing. You glanced around, meeting Jungwon’s gaze for a brief moment. He was standing a few paces away, his expression unreadable, his eyes fixed on you. There was a softness in his gaze, but he didn’t speak up. He didn’t offer his support, not even a hint of reassurance. It was as though he was waiting for you to make the call on your own.

"I’m... I’m not sure I can do it," you said, your voice trembling as you shook your head. The words felt like an admission of failure even as they left your lips. The pressure was mounting, thick and suffocating. You could feel the anxious tension in the room, swirling around you.

Then another voice broke the silence, a supporting actress, her tone firm. “We don’t have time to find anyone else. You’re going to have to take the role, Y/N. There’s no other option.”

You hesitated, your heart thudding painfully in your chest, but the weight of the situation settled over you like a blanket. The others weren’t happy, and you weren’t sure you were either, but there was no room for second-guessing.

“Fine,” you muttered, almost too quietly for anyone to hear. “I’ll do it.”

Riki gave a brief nod, signaling that the decision was made. The cast moved forward, but there was no sense of triumph, only a shared understanding that the next few days would be exhausting and grueling. You weren’t sure what you had just agreed to, but it was clear that everyone was relying on you to make it work.

The first rehearsal in your new role was a mess. You stumbled through the lines, your tongue tripping over words that should’ve felt familiar. Every gesture that Minji had made with grace now felt awkward and forced. You felt like you were drowning, each second slipping away from you as you tried desperately to remember the blocking, the expressions, the emotions you needed to convey. The cast’s frustration was palpable.

“This isn’t how we rehearsed it,” one of the actors muttered under their breath, throwing you an annoyed glance as you fumbled with the choreography.

“Yeah,” another added, crossing his arms and clearly skeptical. “It’s going to take a lot more than this.”

You felt yourself shrink under their judgment, the weight of their eyes pressing on you. It wasn’t that they were outright cruel—it was more the fact that they were impatient. They didn’t think you could pull it off, and frankly, neither did you.

As the days passed, the rehearsals didn’t improve much. By the second day, you were losing confidence. You couldn’t stop comparing yourself to Minji, her effortless performance a constant reminder of how far you had to go. The tension between the cast members grew, and you could feel it in the air. Every practice session felt like a battle—one where you weren’t sure you were going to win.

Jungwon, as usual, was quiet during the rehearsals. He didn’t say much, but you could feel him watching you, always standing just a little further away than you would’ve liked. His eyes never left you, but he said nothing. His silence was both comforting and unnerving.

“Y/N, you’ve got to work harder,” one of your classmates said, his tone sharp as the cast took a break. “We don’t have time for mistakes. We know you have a lot on your plate, considering you’re still our director. Thankfully Riki’s now co-directing though. You just need to be better, we know you’re capable.”

His words stung more than they should’ve, especially when it wasn’t your fault that Minji had gotten hurt. But the pressure was unbearable. You were carrying the weight of the play on your shoulders, and it felt like the world was watching, waiting for you to fail.

It was during one particularly frustrating rehearsal that Jungwon finally spoke to you. You had just stumbled over another line and had nearly given up in frustration when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re doing your best,” Jungwon said quietly, his voice a gentle balm against the harshness of the rehearsal room. You looked up at him, surprised by the softness in his words. His gaze was steady, unwavering. “I know it’s hard... but just trust yourself. You’re stronger than you think.”

His words—simple, calm—pierced through the storm of anxiety inside you. Something in his tone made you pause, made you take a breath. For the first time in days, you felt a flicker of reassurance.

“Thanks, Jungwon,” you murmured, the weight of his support grounding you. In that moment, despite everything, you felt like you could at least keep going. Maybe you couldn’t do it perfectly, but you could keep trying.

The performance day arrived in a blur of last-minute adjustments. Everyone was exhausted, nerves frayed, but despite the tension, there was a sense of collective determination. The theater was packed with an eager audience, and as you stood backstage, the reality of it all hit you.

You were about to step out onto the stage, alone in a role you hadn’t fully prepared for, a role that belonged to someone else. But then you looked at Jungwon—he was standing at the edge of the stage, watching you with a quiet intensity.

Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes met his, and in that moment, you found the strength you needed. He gave you a small, encouraging smile, and it was as though he was silently telling you that everything was going to be okay.

The stage was set. The audience’s murmurs faded as the play began, and the atmosphere shifted from anticipation to pure focus. The first few lines came out smoothly, and with each passing moment, the tension you had felt in the rehearsals started to melt away. The natural rhythm of the play flowed effortlessly between you and the other actors. But what you hadn’t expected—what you hadn’t anticipated—was how easy it felt to perform alongside Jungwon.

Every movement, every word, every glance felt effortless. As soon as you shared the first scene with him, there was an unspoken connection. His presence on stage was magnetic—his voice strong, yet soft, filled with depth. And his eyes—those eyes—spoke volumes without him having to utter a single word. You hadn’t expected to feel so at ease, so in sync with him, but it was as though you were breathing in rhythm, your performances becoming one.

Lila: (Her voice laced with doubt, her eyes searching his for reassurance.) “You... you really think you could want me? I’m nothing like the women you’re used to, Lawrence. I don’t belong in your world.”

Lawrence (Jungwon): (His voice calm, unwavering, as he looks at her with a sincerity that catches her off guard.) “I’ve always wanted you, Lila. You. Not the world you think I live in. Not the money or status. Just you.”

The way his words lingered in the air made your heart flutter. His gaze softened, and in that fleeting moment, it felt as if the entire world faded away. The audience, the stage, the lights—they all disappeared, leaving only the connection between your characters.

In this scene, Lila was supposed to be uncertain, lost in her own doubts, but Adrian’s unwavering confidence made it feel like she could do anything. He gave her the strength to believe in herself, just by being there.

Lawrence (Jungwon): (His voice deepens, a subtle warmth behind his words as he steps closer.) “You’re not alone in this, Lila. Not anymore. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

For a split second, it felt as though the scene had stopped being fiction, as if Jungwon himself wasn’t just acting but revealing a deeper part of himself. His sincerity was unmistakable. The chemistry between you was undeniable, and for a moment, you almost forgot that you were acting. Your heart skipped a beat, and you had to remind yourself to stay in character.

Lila: (Her voice trembling just enough to make it feel real, her eyes searching his face.) “I... I’m scared, Lawrence. What if I’m not enough for you? What if I’m just some joke to you?”

He took a step closer, closing the distance between you, his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity of his gaze was enough to make your breath hitch in your throat.

Lawrence (Jungwon): (His voice firm, a promise in his words.) “Then I’ll be enough for both of us.” (He reaches out, gently cupping her cheek.) “This isn’t a game, Lila. I’m not here for some joke. I’m here for you.”

The line was so simple, so full of promise. And yet, in that moment, it felt like the most powerful declaration you had ever heard. The tension between the two characters—no, between you and Jungwon—was growing stronger with every passing second.

Lila: (Her heart racing, her voice a whisper.) “Are you sure? This... all of this feels too good to be true.”

Lawrence (Jungwon): (Stepping closer, his breath almost mingling with hers, his voice tender and serious.) “I’m sure, Lila. I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The scene continued, each word flowing naturally, each touch, each exchange building the emotion. But nothing could have prepared you for what happened next.

As the final scene began to unfold, your characters stood face to face, the final lines lingering in the air. The tension had shifted. It wasn’t just the chemistry of the characters anymore—it was the undeniable pull between the two of you. Your heart pounded as you spoke the last few lines, your voice quiet, almost hesitant.

Lila: (Softly, her voice trembling.) “Is this... is this really goodbye?”

Lawrence (Jungwon): (His expression a mix of sadness and longing as he steps closer.) “No. Not if you don’t want it to be.”

And in that split second, just as the final words should have left your mouth, Jungwon did something unexpected. He didn’t wait for the cue. Instead, without a word, he leaned in toward you, closing the space between you until his face was mere inches from yours. The audience gasped as he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek—soft, fleeting, but full of emotion.

You froze. The script hadn’t called for it. No one had prepared you for this. Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, it felt as though time itself had stopped. The kiss—completely unplanned—was full of unspoken meaning. It was a promise. A confession. It was everything he hadn’t said on stage, but everything his eyes had been telling you all along.

When Jungwon pulled back slightly, he met your gaze with a softness you had never seen before. His eyes were vulnerable, as though he had just exposed something deep within himself that he wasn’t ready to share with anyone else. Then he adjusted his lavalier microphone slightly away from his mouth as he leans into you again.

“This wasn’t on your script... but it was on mine,” he whispered to your ear. It was barely inaudible that you wouldn’t believe he said that.

The words settled over you like a spark, igniting something inside your chest. You couldn’t speak. The world had shifted in that single moment. The play—everything—had suddenly become something so much more. The chemistry between you was undeniable, and the connection between your characters now felt so real.

The audience had fallen silent, their eyes wide in shock, but you didn’t notice them. You didn’t hear the applause. All that mattered was Jungwon, standing there before you. The final scene had ended, but in that moment, it felt like the true beginning of something neither of you had expected.

As the curtain began to close, you stood side by side with him, your heart racing. The play was over, but it didn’t feel like an ending. Not to you. Not to Jungwon. Not anymore. You both knew, without saying another word, that this wasn’t just a performance. It was real. This connection, this feeling, this chemistry—it was something that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface. And now, you were finally seeing it for what it was.

As you walked off stage, the weight of the moment seemed to cling to you, like the lingering echo of a song that you couldn't forget. The applause rang in your ears, distant and muted, as if you were in another world, separated from the reality that had once felt so familiar. The connection you shared with Jungwon—it was no longer just a performance. It was something raw, something real. And as your footsteps echoed through the backstage corridor, you couldn't shake the feeling that this moment was just the beginning.

Jungwon slowed his pace beside you, his steps in perfect sync with yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. The smile he gave you was soft, almost hesitant, but his eyes—they were full of something you hadn’t seen before. There was no pretension, no calculated charm. Just a quiet sincerity that spoke volumes.

"I didn't mean for it to be like this," he said, his voice low, but it carried with it the weight of everything unsaid. “I should’ve told you sooner. All the things I was too scared to say before, all the things that kept me from being honest with you...”

You turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest, unsure of what to say. But Jungwon didn’t wait for your response. His hand reached out, brushing lightly against your arm, his fingers grazing your skin like a question that hadn’t been answered.

“I don’t want to leave things unfinished,” he continued, his voice now firm, but his gaze vulnerable. “And I don’t want to go on pretending that I don’t feel this... whatever this is between us. I know I’ve been an idiot. I didn’t want to mess this up... But I can’t keep pretending anymore.” He took a breath, stepping even closer. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time. And not just as some role in a play or as some unspoken dream. I... I like you. All of you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath with you. His words, raw and unguarded, hit you in a way you never expected. It was more than just the confession—it was the vulnerability, the sincerity in his eyes. He wasn’t hiding anymore.

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he stepped closer, his voice softening as he leaned in again, this time closer than before. “You deserve to know the truth. Not just as an actor, not just as someone I worked with, but as someone who means something more than I ever let on. I never wanted to hurt you, and I’m sorry for making you feel like you didn’t matter.”

The silence between you stretched out for what felt like an eternity, and in that moment, everything else—everything that had once mattered—faded away. You took a shaky breath, the words finally bubbling to the surface. “Jungwon,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “I... I didn’t know what to think, what to believe. But hearing you say this now, I—”

Before you could finish, he gently cupped your face, his touch warm and steady. He smiled, that familiar, charming smile you’d seen a thousand times before, but now it felt like it carried a weight of meaning that it never had.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he said, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Just know that I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere… for now.”

Your heart was racing, and you nodded slowly, your chest swelling with emotions you had kept hidden for far too long.

Just as the moment felt like it was about to crescendo into something you couldn’t quite grasp, a voice interrupted from the shadows of the backstage.

“Hey, you two!” Riki’s voice was loud, teasing, and unmistakable as he stepped into the light, a grin plastered on his face. He caught the glance between you and Jungwon and immediately raised an eyebrow. “What’s all this tension about, huh? You guys didn’t think the play was over, did you?”

Jungwon stepped back slightly, a small chuckle escaping him as he ran a hand through his hair, though his gaze never left yours. "We were just wrapping up... some things."

Riki’s grin softened, his playful expression giving way to something more sincere as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You two…” he said, glancing between you and Jungwon, his eyes knowing. “You don’t have to explain. It’s about time.”

The weight of Riki’s words settled between the three of you, and in that moment, everything clicked into place. Riki wasn’t just the supportive friend. He was the one who understood—who had always known, even when the two of you hadn’t. It was a relief, in a way, to have that acknowledgment, that understanding.

“I guess we’ll see where this goes then,” Jungwon said, his voice soft but confident, his gaze returning to you, full of meaning.

Riki gave a playful roll of his eyes before clapping Jungwon on the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t mess this up, alright?” he teased, but there was warmth in his words, a reassurance that everything was going to be fine.

"See you around, boss."

You couldn’t help but smile, a weight lifting off your shoulders. It was clear now. No more games, no more pretending. This was real. And as the three of you stood there, a sense of closure washed over you—the play was over, but this new chapter? It was just beginning.

And maybe, just maybe, it was going to be everything you had always wanted.

permanent taglist: @tinycatharsis @han-to-my-minho @1starqi @wensurr @yjwonsgf @lovestruck-moonlight @leah-rose03 @kanonjji @kyunlov @somuchdard @seongiewon @luumiinaa @enhaverse713586 @lynanist @cakuqe @hhyvsstuff @gardenwons @frankenstein852 @firstclassjaylee @lamin143 @serenadehera @elove2047

hello guys! i haven't had the chance to reply to each of you under my paramedic jungwon fic. but this taglist will be the one I'll be using for the series! lmk if you want to be removed from the permanent taglist, I'll still add you to the paramedic jungwon taglist nonetheless <3

send me an ask or reply if you wanna be part of the tl! love youuu! happy holidays <333

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Too Easy

Request: Anonymous asked: "okay i have a tyler owens request!! him and reader are both tornado wranglers and they’ve always had a somewhat flirty relationship, but at one point they’re out chasing and the motel they stay at that night doesn’t have enough rooms for all of them so Tyler and the reader decide to share and reader has a nightmare? or just some kind of angst or hurt/comfort with a happy ending? love ur work!"

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: PTSD, trauma, tornado mention

A/N: I changed it from flirty to an enemies to lovers-type relationship, just because i've been craving to write that type of banter. as always, comments & replies are super appreciated!!! thanks for reading :)

As soon as you saw the familiar red Dodge truck parked outside the motel you groaned. 

“Is this guy everywhere, all the time?” Halle, one of your crew members, mumbled from the driver’s seat. She pulled your SUV into the only empty spot in the parking lot. 

She was referencing Tyler– another local storm chaser and absolute pain in your ass. His Ram truck was like a symbol all around Oklahoma. Everyone in the midwest knew his name– and what he did. You, on the other hand, knew him as a self-absorbed jerk that constantly put his and his team’s lives in danger for a few hundred thousand views on YouTube. He was cocky and obnoxious and arrogant. And you couldn’t stand him. 

Unfortunately for you though, Tyler Owens and his entire team went where the storms went. Which meant that you were stuck dealing with him– especially during tornado season. 

“Let’s just get a room, maybe we missed him,” you mumbled before turning to the backseat. “Anna, could you pass me my bag?” 

“Sure thing,” she replied, grunting as she handed your duffel over. 

“How about two rooms tonight?” you suggested. “I feel like I haven’t actually slept since we were in Austin.”

“God, I’ve been waiting for you to suggest that,” Halle mumbled. The bags around her eyes suggested she was just as eager for a good night’s sleep as you were. 

Together, the three of you dragged yourselves towards the motel lobby, exhausted and desperate for both a shower and a bed. 

“Why don’t you guys wait with all the gear? I’ll go in and book the rooms,” you offered. 

“Two of them,” Halle said with a relieved smile. 

“Two rooms coming up,” you promised. 

They nodded in agreement and settled in on the curb while you wandered inside. The bell above the door rang loudly as you stepped inside. As soon as you did, you realized that, to your absolute dismay, a familiar someone had already beat you to the front desk. You’d recognize those stupid, broad shoulders any day, even if you were sleep deprived.  

“Evenin’ m’lady,” Tyler’s little sidekick said teasingly. He tipped his baseball cap towards you.   

“Hey Boone,” you greeted back curtly.   

“What’d ya think of that beaut earlier, huh? Not too often we get two storm cells like that.”

“Yeah it was somethin’,” you replied absentmindedly. Honestly, you didn’t dislike Boone. He was friendly– maybe a little overzealous for your liking, but overall a nice guy. It was a shame he was always around Tyler– otherwise you might not always be so annoyed with him, too.  

“There she is,” Tyler beamed. He approached you and Boone while he tucked a few room keys in his wallet. “Were you fillin’ Boone in on why you picked the wrong storm to chase today? Because that’s a story I want to hear–” 

Your gaze fell to the floor, chest tightening the same way it did in the field earlier. “The winds changed last minute– I didn’t catch it,” you muttered, although you shouldn’t even have to explain yourself to this hillbilly. 

“Ah, I see. Man, you’re off your game, sweetheart. Usually it’s me missin’ those signs. What do you got cloudin’ up that pretty little mind of yours?” 

Anger began seeping into the corners of your mind. “Why do you even care?” you asked icily. “Thought you’d be happy to have that storm all to yourself.”

“Oh, I was sweetheart,” Tyler winked. “But I don’t mind sharin’ with you.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed past him towards the front desk. A younger girl with short, red hair offered you a smile. “How can I help you?”

“I need two rooms please,” you requested, it took about all the energy you had left to smile back. 

The girl sucked in a breath of air. “Oh, I’m so sorry– this gentleman here just rented three rooms. All we have left is one.”

“One?” you asked in disbelief, mouth falling open. 

She nodded. “There’s two beds, though, if that helps.”

“Shit,” you grumbled. Your team was exhausted– and you knew that you couldn’t just take back your promise for them to have their own beds. 

“I’m sorry–” the girl repeated, but you shook your head. 

“No, it’s okay. Not your fault,” you said quickly, trying to remember your manners.. 

“Somethin’ wrong over there sweetheart?” Tyler asked teasingly.  

“Yeah, you took all but one of the rooms. Now my team doesn’t have enough.”

“C’mon, I’ve seen you guys cram into one room before.”

“Yeah, but they’re exhausted. We haven’t had our own beds in weeks and I promised them…” your voice trailed off. Why the hell were you even explaining any of this to him? “You know what? Just forget it–” you turned back towards the receptionist. “I’ll take the one room, please.”

After passing your card over and paying, you turned and pushed back past Tyler and Boone. But before you could reach the door, Tyler’s voice stopped you in your tracks. 

“What are you just gonna go back on your promise? That’s really gonna disappoint your team–”

“I’ll sleep in the damn truck,” you snapped, zero patience for any of his sarcasm or feeble attempts at a joke. “Happy?”

“Hey–” he said, voice softening instantly. “I was just kiddin’ around.”

“Really funny,” you said, sarcasm dripping off your tongue, now more than usual, Tyler was getting on your nerves. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and disappoint my team.”

Without waiting for whatever retort Tyler could come up with next, you finally pushed your way through the door without looking back. 

You found Halle and Anna in the same place you left them– still sitting on the curb, slouched over and exhausted-looking.  

“Hey guys, bad news–” you began, guilt already spreading through your stomach. But before you could, the bell to the lobby door rang out, causing you to groan.  

You took a deep, steadying breath to calm your nerves, just in time for Tyler to speak. “Now I have an idea– how about we share? I got three rooms for my team, but that’s six beds… we only need five.”

You spun around so fast, you were surprised you didn’t get whiplash. “Look Tyler, as much as you know I love your antics, can we not do this right now? Please?”

“Who said anythin’ about antics?” he pressed. “I’m bein’ serious here. Your two can have their beds and you can take one of ours.”

“No way,” you spat quickly. “I’m sleeping in the car.”

By now, Halle and Anna had seemingly picked up on the situation. They stood up and crossed their arms disapprovingly in unison. 

“You can’t sleep in the car, that’s ridiculous,” Anna said. 

“Yeah, why don’t you and Anna take the room and I’ll share with Tyler’s crew,” Halle offered. 

“No,” you shook your head. “I promised you guys a good night’s sleep tonight– I’m not letting you crash with them.”

“Well we’re not letting you sleep in the car,” Halle argued back. “It’s like… eighty-five degrees out here.” 

You let your eyes fall shut for a moment, trying to think. But the truth was, you really were just so, so tired. You wanted everything about today– the storm cells you got wrong from earlier, the endless hours of driving, and lack of sleep, over with. And if bunking with someone from Tyler’s crew was the only way to make that happen, well then, so be it, you finally decided. Better you than Halle or Anna. 

“See– even your team isn’t as scared of us as you are,” Tyler chuckled. 

“Fine,” you snapped, shaking your head in disbelief. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Who am I sharing with?”

Maybe you’d get lucky and get to room with Dani or Lilly–

“That would be me,” Tyler chirped, eyes glistening under the streetlamp. 

Well fuck me, you thought. 

…

You curled up in the double bed closest to the wall. By the time you got up to the room, Tyler had already claimed the one closest to the door.

You heard the water snap off in the bathroom, followed by the sound of Tyler peeling back the shower curtain. That was your cue to feign sleep, if only to avoid any further conversation with him for the night. You rolled over and pulled the blankets up to your chin. 

After a few minutes, he emerged from the bathroom– the noise from the fan growing louder and a sudden whiff of his shampoo washing over you. You’d never admit it– but the way he smelled was actually one of the few things you liked about Tyler. 

“I know you’re not sleepin’,” he said as he began rummaging through his bag. 

“How the hell would you know that?” you groaned. 

You heard him chuckle softly. “Because you wouldn’t have answered if you were.”

This fucking cowboy. 

“Well I’d like to be sleeping,” you said, still not rolling over to face him. 

“And here I was hopin’ we’d use our little sleepover to get to know each other a little better.”

“You can lay off the act,” you said suddenly, all of your anger and exhaustion just melting into a pool of unfiltered irritation. 

There was a brief pause before Tyler replied, “What do you mean?”

“I mean there’s no audience in here– no team members watching, no YouTube subscribers viewing us. You don’t have to pretend to be all sweet and charming.”

“I wasn’t aware I was pretending–”

“Oh cut the shit, Tyler. You love to drive me crazy me– just admit it. And it's probably my fault for letting you get to me so easily. But I mean, c'mon, was it your plan all along to just get me to share a room with you so you could keep me up all night getting to know me better?”

He let out a huff of air that sounded frustrated, as opposed to his usual amusement. “You’re something else, Y/N, you know that?”

You were caught off guard by Tyler’s use of your actual name. He always resorted to nicknames– either sweetheart or the town he knew you were from. In fact, in the few years you’d known him, the only time he’d ever repeated your name was the first time you told it to him. 

You sat up in bed and finally turned to face him– trying to gauge his demeanor. 

“I offer you a room– I didn’t have to do that, you know? And believe it or not, I didn’t offer it to you just to make your life miserable. I did it because I didn’t like the idea of you sleepin’ in your car alone–” he shook his head. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. Goodnight.”

Before you could even think of a reply, Tyler was peeling back the covers of his own bed and crawling in. He laid on his left side, back facing you.

You stayed in place for a moment, too stunned to move or speak or do much of anything.

Eventually, you laid back down, trying your best to deny the pool of guilt spreading through your stomach.

… 

With one arm you held on to your sister's hand as hard as you could– feeling the muscles in your shoulder strain and pop as you did. 

“Hold on!” you shouted, pleading with her not to let go. 

With your other hand, you were clinging to the handle on the storm shelter door. Somehow it had managed to pop open after the two of you had escaped inside. 

She looked down at you, her body suspended in the air– nothing but sheer, unfiltered terror reflecting in her round-rimmed glasses. 

“C’mon!” you screamed. 

“Please–” she gasped. “Please don’t let me go!”

“I got you!” you screamed, but you could feel that your grip on her clammy hand wasn’t as tight as it needed to be. “No–” you yelled. 

“Don’t let me go–” she repeated, nails digging into your skin desperately. 

But you didn’t even have time to adjust your grip before she was slipping away– in the end, the winds won. 

In the blink of an eye, her body was being sucked away from you– further and further into the dark storm clouds barreling your way. 

“No!” you screamed, reaching for the spot her body was moments before. “No!” 

But then you felt your own grip slipping on the door handle and you knew you needed both hands to hold on if you wanted to survive. So, using all your strength– you dragged yourself to the bottom of the storm shelter. You found the safest corner– next to some old piping to curl up. 

The whole time the storm raged on above you– you couldn’t stop screaming. So, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your forehead against your knees, making yourself as small as possible. And then, with everything you had left, you wound your arms around the piping and held on like your life depended on it… because it did. 

…

Your name sounded so distant when you heard someone calling it– like it was miles away. Then, vaguely, it came more into focus as it was called again. 

The third time, it was right next to you– and it was familiar… but you didn’t dare to look up. What if the storm was still raging outside? What if it took you next? 

Hands gripped your shoulders– causing you to jolt awake. 

Your eyes shot open as you pulled yourself from your nightmare. Tyler was sitting on the edge of your bed, his mouth hung open, like he was out of breath. 

“Tyler?” you croaked, attempting to sit up from the mattress. 

“You’re okay,” he said instantly. “You’re okay– you’re safe.”

Once you had managed to sit up, you studied Tyler’s face for a moment, trying desperately to gauge if any of this was real. Despite the darkness around you, you could still make out every feature– every crease, every freckle, every single piece of stubble that made up his shaved beard. And as much as you’d admired Tyler’s face in the last few years, even you knew that you couldn’t have been that detailed in your imagination.   

You wanted to ask what the hell he was doing there– how he had gotten in her room, when all of a sudden, the same memories that had plagued you in your dream resurfaced in your mind.

The sight of the EF4 tornado that destroyed every inch of your childhood home. The image of your sister’s terrified face– right before she was ripped from your grasp. The sound of her scream, dissipating with the raging winds. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” Tyler soothed. 

You turned to face him– Tyler was here because he’d let you share his room… because he was way kinder than you ever gave him credit for. And now he was here– witnessing you completely falling apart.

Tyler’s lips began moving– he was talking. But despite the vague comfort from his tone of voice, you couldn’t really make out what he was saying. It was like the winds were still raging around you– muffling everything. 

You felt like your heart might just beat out of your chest– maybe that was the tornado working to rip it from your skin. 

“Hey–” a voice… no, not a voice. Tyler’s voice, said. “You gotta breathe.”

What was he talking about? You were breathing– of course you were breathing. Unless... unless the tornado ripped out your lungs instead of your heart. And now that you thought about it, no, actually, you weren’t breathing. You tried to inhale in, but the air wouldn’t come. You gasped, chest tightening while you began to tremble. 

Your lungs weren’t in your chest– your lungs flew away– just like your sister.

Firm, rough hands cupped both of your cheeks, forcing you to look forward. You were met by Tyler’s green eyes, currently blown open and wide with worry. 

“Breathe, baby,” he instructed. “With me– look.”

Baby, you thought. That was a new one. You didn’t hate it nearly as much as you hated sweetheart. 

You watched desperately as Tyler inhaled and exhaled exaggeratedly, like he was hoping you’d follow along.  

You tried. Really, you did.

Your wide, desperate eyes met his. But instead of following along, all you could do was imagine what your sister’s body had looked like after being struck by debris and tossed halfway across town–

“With me,” Tyler repeated firmly, his thumb stroking across the surface of your cheek gently. You leaned into his touch, craving comfort. 

Tyler continued producing loud and deliberate, slow and calming breaths. After a few seconds, you latched onto the sound, mimicking it, and following along the best that you could. 

Your shoulders relaxed slightly when you realized that you could actually breathe– which meant that EF5 hadn’t actually ripped them out of your chest. 

Tyler’s brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. “There you go,” he whispered.

“Did I wake you up?” you asked quietly, feeling even guiltier than you had for snapping at him all night. 

He hesitated– like he was actually debating on lying to you or not. 

“Was I screaming?” 

“I mean, a little bit–”

You nodded before letting your gaze fall to your lap, where you began picking harshly at an old hangnail, a feeble attempt to distract yourself. 

“Do you–” Tyler began. “Do you have those nightmares often?”

Now it was your turn to contemplate lying. But then you remembered what an absolute jerk you’d been to Tyler all night, and figured you at least owed him the truth. 

“Yeah,” you said. “That’s partially why I wanted to sleep in the truck.”

Tyler smiled softly. “And here I was thinking it was because you hated me so much.”

“I’m sorry–” you began, voice shaking slightly. “I know I can be a jerk.”

One of Tyler’s eyebrows shot up like he was surprised. 

“What?” you asked. 

“No it’s just… that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you apologize.”

“What can I say?” you mumbled, trying to make light of things. “You seem to always see the worst versions of myself.” 

Tyler’s gaze softened, like he knew you were talking about more than your lack of apologies. After a moment he sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Glancing up, you hesitated. Your heart had just stopped pounding in your chest, but the thought of talking about what had happened in your home just a few short years ago made it speed up again.  

“You don’t have to–” Tyler said quickly. 

“No– it’s just…” your voice faltered. “I just haven’t really talked about it.” 

Tyler was patient. He stayed still on the edge of your bed and waited for you to be ready. After you sorted through some of the thoughts in your head you whispered, “You know I’ve been chasing in Oklahoma since I was a teenager?”

Tyler’s face lit up in surprise. 

“It’s true. I took a few years off… and when I came back, I was upset to see Oklahoma had a new storm chaser. One that everyone seemed to like more than me,” you admitted. You weren’t sure why this was all flowing out so freely, but even you had to admit that it felt nice to be honest. “That’s why I’ve been so mean to you, I think. It felt like you were encroaching on my turf. And then you showed up with your fancy truck– and all your gear, and I suppose I just felt a little jealous.” 

Tyler nodded in understanding. “Why’d you take a few years off?”

Your voice caught in your throat. Only when you hung your head did you feel confident enough to answer. “Remember that EF5 that hit Logan County a few years back?”

Tyler nodded. 

“My family’s farm was in Logan County. My parents were away– on a weekend trip to Colorado to see family. But I’d convinced my sister to stay home with me, because I didn’t want to go,” the words that were your mouth suddenly didn’t feel like yours. And the trembling hands in your lap didn’t feel like yours either. 

“The storm turned last minute. We barely had any warning. But I grabbed my sister– and we ran to the storm shelter. We made it, too– but then the door ripped open. When she went to shut it…” your voice trailed off. “Well you can use your imagination for the rest.”

You finally gathered up enough courage to glance up at Tyler. His eyes were fixated on you– sadness and sympathy plastered all over his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said genuinely. 

“Yeah, well…” you said weakly. “The worst part is– I think I remember locking the storm shelter door– but I wonder every single day of my life if I accidentally forgot. Which… I mean, convincing her to stay home already makes it partially my fault. But I can write that one off– and remind myself I didn’t know what was going to happen. But forgetting to lock the storm shelter?” you sighed. “That would be a harder one to forgive myself for.”

Tyler scooted closer towards you on the bed. He raised his hand– he was reaching out to comfort you. But then he pulled back, like he thought better. You were surprised by how disappointed that made you. 

“It’s not your fault–” Tyler assured you. 

It was the same thing your parents had said your whole life– so why couldn’t you believe it? 

“I guess it doesn't really matter whose fault it was,” you said. “She’s gone and I’m not. I took a few years off from chasing because I just couldn’t… I couldn’t get myself in the right headspace for it. Every time I saw a cell forming, I’d panic– and I’d want to run from it, not chase it. Things are better now… but every once and a while, I still run. Like today,” you admitted. “I knew the winds changed. I knew the one to the east was gonna die out. That’s why I chose it.” 

Tyler sighed. “And then I gave you shit for it,” he said, remorse in his tone. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you admitted. “And I’m really grateful you let me crash in your room. I think if I’d been screamin’ like that in my car, it would’ve caused quite the scene.”

Tyler’s lips tugged into a gentle smile. “I told you I didn’t mind sharing when it came to you. Plus, I learned more about you during our little sleepover than I have in the last few years chasin’ next to you.” 

“Yeah, well…” you mumbled. “Don’t get used to it.”

Tyler smirked. “Does that mean you’re going to go back to hating me tomorrow, when we’re no longer roommates? Or have I finally cracked through that tough ole shell of yours?”

“You keep offerin’ me motel rooms for free and I’ll be an open book,” you laughed. 

Tyler nodded, like he was storing that offer for later. 

“Hey, I don’t know about you,” he said, suddenly clapping his thighs before standing up. “But all that screaming got me wide awake. You hungry? I’m buying.”

He held out his hand– waiting for you to take it. 

“Are you offering me a room and dinner in one night?” you teased. 

“And all you had to do was reveal your deepest, darkest secrets and traumas to me,” Tyler smirked. 

“Tyler Owens, you’re too easy,” you said, gladly taking his outstretched hand.

[sadnymi]

Mastermind

[Mattheo riddle x reader]

Summary: Lady Whistledown and Gossip Girl [ Hogwarts Version] had taken the school by storm. Every week, spoken letters delivered the latest rumors, and things were getting out of control. Y/N had finally had enough, especially when the latest gossip claimed she was dating Mattheo Riddle. Frustrated and determined to put an end to it, she went to Mattheo, asking for his help in uncovering the person behind the relentless rumors and stopping them once and for all.

Words: 15k

Warnings : fluff, smut smut smut don’t read in public you have been warning , biker boy mattheo [yes a warning] , a little angst, fluff .

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨

**The Daily Whisperer: Hogwarts Edition**

_Issue #47: The Gossip of the Week_

Hogwarts is buzzing with the latest speculation surrounding two of our most enigmatic students. You guessed it—Y/N Y/L/N and Mattheo Riddle.

Rumor has it that sparks are flying between these two, and if they aren't already an item, then Merlin’s beard, they definitely should be! A sighting in the library, some lingering glances in Potions class, and let’s not forget that mysterious detention they both just _happened_ to land in last week. Could this be the beginning of a legendary Hogwarts love story? But that's not all! This week’s flying letters brought us another sizzling scoop: Y/N was seen practicing dueling spells with Mattheo, and let's just say, the sparks were flying—literally. Could this be a sign of something more than just friendly competition? Stay tuned, dear readers. We’re on the case!

In other news, Y/N has been making waves not just in the rumor mill but in the academic arena as well. This ( whatever house you’re in, darling Y/N!) has been impressing professors and students alike with her spellwork and potions prowess. Is there anything she can't do? We'll keep you posted on her latest achievements and, of course, any further developments in her relationship status with a certain handsome Slytherin.

Until next time, keep your wands at the ready and your ears to the ground!

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I could feel the heat of a hundred eyes on me as I stormed through the hallways, clutching the latest edition of "Hogwarts Whispers" in my hand. My anger was palpable, a tangible force pushing people aside as they gawked at me. As I turned a corner, a group of Hufflepuffs quickly scattered, clearly not wanting to be on the receiving end of my wrath. My anger flared hotter. Who had the nerve to spread such nonsense? And why did it have to be always about _me_?

Finally, I spotted him. Mattheo Riddle stood by the entrance to the Great Hall, casually leaning against the wall like he didn’t have a care in the world, his dark hair falling effortlessly into place as he exchanged easy banter with his friends. Typical.

I marched up to him, my footsteps echoing off the stone walls. His friends wisely took a step back as I approached, but he merely glanced over at me with that infuriating smirk of his, clearly amused by my arrival.

“Riddle,” I said, my voice clipped.

“Y/L/N,” he replied, raising an eyebrow in a way that made it impossible to tell if he was mocking me or just genuinely interested.

“We need to talk.”

His smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “We need to talk?”

I huffed in frustration. “You didn’t read what that freak wrote today?”

“No,” he said slowly, his eyes scanning my face for any clue. “But does that have anything to do with why people are looking at us like we are about to say our vows?”

Resisted the urge to roll my eyes, instead grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hallway. “Come on.”

He chuckled under his breath, clearly enjoying the situation more than he should. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t about to have this conversation in front of the entire school. The last thing I needed was to give those gossipy little owls more fuel for their fire.

I could feel his gaze on me as we walked, his hand warm in mine, and for a brief, fleeting moment, I wondered if there was any truth to what they’d written.

But I shoved that thought aside as we reached a secluded corner. I had a bone to pick with him, and I wasn’t about to let a few stray butterflies distract me.

“What are we going to do about this?” I demanded as soon as we were out of earshot of anyone else.

He just grinned, clearly unfazed. “What do you mean, Y/N? Sounds like we’re the hottest topic in school.”

My glare deepened. “This isn’t funny, Mattheo.”

“Maybe not.”

“This is absolute bullshit!” I fumed, waving the gossip letter around like it was cursed. “Why would anyone write this? Why is it always about me? Every. Single. Week!”

Mattheo leaned casually against the wall, his arms crossed, watching me with that maddening smile on his face. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned, which only fueled my irritation further.

“And then they say I’m dating you?” I threw the letter on a desk, feeling my pulse racing. “Are they insane? Where do they even get this stuff?”

He chuckled, that deep, velvety sound that always seemed to get under my skin. “I’m trying so hard not to take that personally, princess.”

I shot him a glare. “Shut up, Riddle.”

But he didn’t stop smiling, just kept leaning against the wall, looking at me like he was thoroughly enjoying the show. My frustration bubbled over. “Why are you so calm about this? This is serious! People are staring at us in the hallways! It’s like they’ve all got nothing better to do than imagine some ridiculous romance between us.”

“Well,” he drawled, pushing off the wall and taking a few steps toward me, “can you blame them? You’re not exactly easy to ignore, Y/N.”

I rolled my eyes, exasperated. “This isn’t funny. We need to find out who’s behind this, and you’re going to help me.”

Mattheo pushed himself off the wall, taking a step closer to me. "You want me to help you track down the identity of…" he paused, a playful glint in his eyes, "Madam Matchmaker?"

"Yes," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Would you do that?"

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I would never say no to my girlfriend."

"Shut up, Riddle." I stared at him, my heart skipping a beat despite the anger still boiling inside me. "I’m not your girlfriend," I insisted, my voice lacking the conviction I’d hoped for.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression smug. "That’s not what the whole school is saying."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t ignore the way his words sent a shiver down my spine. "Shut up, Riddle."

"Don't you see how ridiculous this is?" I asked, exasperated.

He tilted his head, still not breaking eye contact. "Oh, I see it, alright. But I've got to admit, I don't mind being linked to you, Y/N. It gives me an excuse to spend more time with you."

"Shut up, Riddle."

He laughed, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "You know, if you keep telling me to shut up, I might just have to find another way to occupy my mouth."

"You… you’re —-!"

"And yet, here you are, asking me for help. You must like something about me, Y/N."

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. "I like the idea of you doing something useful for once. Now, are you going to help me or not?"

He straightened up, still smiling but with a more serious glint in his eyes. "Of course I’ll help you. But you owe me one."

"Fine," I grumbled, though I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth.

The next day, I stormed into the Great Hall, clutching a rolled-up piece of parchment in my hand. I barely noticed the whispers that trailed behind me as I made a beeline for the Slytherin table, my eyes locking onto Mattheo, who was lounging back in his seat, looking completely unbothered by the chaos swirling around us.

I slammed the parchment down in front of him, making a few Slytherins glance over in curiosity.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“It’s a list,” I said, taking a seat across from him and ignoring the way his friends were watching us with interest. “A list of suspects. I’ve narrowed it down to a few possibilities, and we need to figure out who’s responsible.”

Mattheo’s eyes flicked to the parchment, then back to me, clearly intrigued. “Go on.”

I pointed to the first name on the list. “First, there’s Carla knight. She’s always had it out for me ever since that incident in Potions last year. You know, she’s been looking for a way to get back at me ever since, she’s petty enough to spread rumors, and she’s got the connections to get them published.”

“True,” Mattheo mused, leaning back in his chair. “But Carla’s too obvious, don’t you think? She’s not exactly subtle.”

“Maybe,” I conceded, moving on to the next name. “Then there’s John Gary. He’s always been the quiet type, but that just makes him more dangerous. He’s close to the source, and he’s smart enough to cover his tracks.”

Mattheo nodded, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Interesting."

"What about Lavender Brown? She’s always gossiping, and she’s got this diary she carries around everywhere. What if she’s the one writing this stuff down and sending it off to ‘Hogwarts Whispers’?"

"Lavender’s a possibility," Mattheo admitted, his eyes flicking back up to meet mine. "But she’s more into writing about her own love life than anyone else’s. I doubt she’d be focused enough to keep tabs on us."

I grumbled under my breath and tapped my quill against the parchment, staring at the remaining names. "Then who could it be? I’ve gone through almost everyone who’s likely to be involved in this kind of thing, and none of them make sense!"

Mattheo didn’t respond immediately, and I looked up to find him just staring at me, a small, almost secretive smile on his lips.

"What the hell are you doing? Were you even listening?" I demanded, feeling my frustration rise again.

His eyes flicked over my face, lingering on my lips for a moment before he finally spoke. "Oh, I was listening, princess. It’s just hard to focus when you’re looking so damn determined. It’s… distracting."

My heart did a little flip, but I shoved that feeling down and crossed my arms. "This is serious, Riddle. Someone is spreading lies about us, and you’re just sitting here, smirking like it’s all a joke."

He chuckled softly, his eyes still locked on mine. "I’m not laughing at you. I’m just appreciating how hard you’re trying to solve this little mystery. It’s kind of… sexy."

I felt my face heat up, but I wasn’t about to let him derail me. "Stop with the compliments, Mattheo. This is important."

"Sure."

"Shut up, Riddle. I’m serious."

"So am I," he said smoothly, leaning back in his seat, his gaze still locked on mine. "But if you want to focus on this little mystery instead of the much more interesting topic of us, then go ahead."

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way his voice sent a shiver down my spine. "Fine. If you’re not going to help, then at least don’t make this harder than it already is."

Mattheo’s smirk grew as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "You know, Y/N, there are easier ways to spend time with me than concocting elaborate schemes to solve a mystery that might not even have a culprit."

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. "What are you talking about?"

He shrugged casually, his eyes never leaving mine. "Maybe someone’s just trying to push us together, and it’s working. Ever thought about that?"

"Shut up, Riddle," I snapped, though my voice lacked its usual bite.

He chuckled, his gaze never leaving mine. "Only if you make me."

I reached out to smack his arm. "Stop acting like that. This is serious!"

In a flash, Mattheo’s hand shot out, catching my wrist with a firm but gentle grip. His smile was both mischievous and reassuring as he looked at me. "Alright, but only because you’re so charming when you’re worked up."

I pulled my wrist free, trying to hide the flush creeping up my cheeks. "Just—stop distracting me. I need to figure out who’s behind this before it gets any worse."

Mattheo leaned back, still watching me with that unnerving mixture of amusement and interest. "Indeed, lead the way. I’m all ears."

For the rest of the week, I was on a mission. Every day, I dragged Mattheo around the school, from the library to the common rooms, and even to the less frequented corners of the castle. Despite his usual nonchalance, Mattheo followed along without question, his only response being that knowing smile he always seemed to have when he was around me.

We spent hours poring over potential suspects, analyzing their motives, and investigating their whereabouts. Each time I got frustrated or hit a dead end, Mattheo would patiently listen, never interrupting, and only offering occasional comments that were either strangely insightful or just plain distracting.

As we walked through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, I finally vented my frustrations. "This is ridiculous. I’ve talked to nearly everyone I can think of, and no one seems to know anything. It’s like we’re running in circles."

Mattheo’s hand brushed against mine as he walked beside me, and I could feel the warmth of his touch even through our robes. "Maybe you’re looking too hard. Sometimes, the answer isn’t in what people say but in what they don’t."

I sighed, feeling the weight of the week’s frustration pressing down on me. "I just don’t get it. Why would someone target me like this?"

He glanced at me, his expression softening. "Maybe they’re trying to get a reaction out of you."

His words, though comforting, did little to ease my worries. I shook my head and kept walking, the silence between us stretching as we turned another corner. "I don’t know how you manage to stay so calm about all this. I’m losing my mind trying to figure this out."

"You’re doing great."

"Thanks, Mattheo."

He flashed me a reassuring smile. "Anytime. Besides, it’s been… interesting, spending all this time with you. I’d say it’s been the highlight of my week."

I raised an eyebrow, giving him a wry smile. "Oh, is that so? I’m glad to be your highlight, Riddle."

He grinned, his usual mischievous glint in his eye. "You should be. And if you ever need me to be a distraction! again, just let me know."

" I hope not."

As we turned another corner in the castle, Mattheo suddenly stopped, his expression shifting from his usual playful smirk to something more serious. "Go on a date with me."

I froze, staring at him in disbelief. "What?"

"You heard me," he said, leaning against the wall with that infuriatingly confident look on his face. "Let’s go on a date."

I blinked, trying to process his words. "Why would I—what are you even talking about? We’re supposed to be figuring out who’s spreading these rumors, not giving them more fuel for the fire!"

"Exactly," he replied smoothly, crossing his arms over his chest. "If we go on a date, we can see who’s watching us, who’s interested in what we’re doing. It’ll flush out the culprit. And with the weekend coming up, whoever’s behind this will be desperate for more gossip to spread. We’ll be able to figure it out, Y/N."

I shook my head, utterly incredulous. "Absolutely not. I’m not going on a date with you."

"Why not?" he asked, his smirk returning as he stepped closer, his presence as magnetic as ever. "It’s the perfect plan. We’ll be able to spot who’s paying too much attention to us."

"Because," I stammered, feeling my heart race as he closed the distance between us, "it’s ridiculous! You’re just trying to mess with me. I know you, Mattheo. You don’t actually care about solving this, you just want to—"

"Want to what?" he interrupted, his voice low and teasing. "Think about it, Y/N. We go out, see who’s watching, think of it as an experiment. A way to gather evidences. You like evidence, don’t you?"

"I’m not going on a date with you. I refuse to give these gossips exactly what they want. I’m not some pawn in their game, and I’m certainly not going to parade around with you just to see who’s got their eyes on us."

He just kept smiling, his eyes locked onto mine with that infuriatingly calm, knowing look. "You keep telling yourself that, but deep down, you know it’s the best way to figure this out."

"No," I insisted, my voice rising slightly. "There’s no way I’m doing it. This is absurd, and I’m not falling for it. You’re just trying to—"

"Trying to what?" he echoed, taking another step closer until I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin.

I glared at him, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened. "Shut up, Riddle."

He didn’t move, his smirk widening as his gaze held mine. "You tell me to shut up again, and I will kiss the fuck out of you, princess."

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. "What?"

"You heard me," he said, his voice smooth and deliberate, his eyes never leaving mine. "That’s the deal. You say it again, and I won’t hold back."

My face felt like it was on fire, and I could barely form a coherent thought as his words sank in. "You—you’re insane."

"Maybe," he replied, his voice low and full of intent. "But I always get what I want. And right now, what I want is to figure this out—with you."

I swallowed hard, my heart racing as I tried to gather my thoughts. "This is ridiculous."

"Is it?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, his gaze still locked onto mine. "Or is it just that you’re afraid you might actually enjoy it?"

I stared at him, my mind spinning as I tried to come up with a response. But the truth was, I was too flustered to think straight. His confidence, his intensity—it was overwhelming.

"This is stupid," I muttered, trying to muster up some semblance of defiance.

"That’s not a ‘no’."

I glared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "But this is strictly for the sake of finding out who’s behind the rumors."

Mattheo’s grin widened. "Of course, princess. Strictly business."

I crossed my arms, trying to keep a lid on the flurry of emotions swirling inside me. "You have to behave, Riddle. No funny business, no flirting. Just… business."

"I’ll be on my best behavior."

I raised an eyebrow, trying to gauge if he was being sincere or just playing me. "Somehow, I doubt that."

He chuckled, leaning in slightly saying in a mocking tone. "Your doubt wounds me, Y/N. My favorite thing to do is to be a good boy for you."

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at my lips. "Sure, whatever you say."

"So," he continued, ignoring my skepticism, "tomorrow, then?"

I hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, tomorrow."

Mattheo’s gaze softened, though his smirk remained firmly in place. "Don’t be nervous. And try not to think about me too much tonight."

I scoffed, giving him a withering look. "In your dreams, Riddle."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, husky murmur. "Oh, believe me, darling. You’re in my dreams every night. But we’re not just talking in them."

My face burned as I smacked his arm again, harder this time. "I’m going to just kill you someday and stop the rumors you’re insufferable, you know that?"

He just laughed, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "And yet, you keep coming back for more."

"I don’t have a choice," I shot back, starting to walk toward my dormitory with him following close behind.

"Ah, but you do," he said smoothly, keeping pace with me. "And you’re choosing to be here with me. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?"

I ignored him, focusing on the corridor ahead, even as I felt his gaze lingering on me.

We walked in silence for a moment before he spoke again, his voice soft and teasing. "You know, tomorrow’s going to be fun. You’ll see."

I rolled my eyes, still facing forward. "If by ‘fun’ you mean torturous, then sure."

Mattheo’s laughter echoed through the corridor, warm and rich. "Torturous for you, maybe. But for me? It’ll be heaven."

I stopped in front of my dormitory, turning to face him. "This is where we part ways."

He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief. "For now. But you know, you can always invite me in if you’re feeling lonely."

Pushing him away lightly I said. "Not a chance, Riddle."

He grinned, completely unfazed. "Worth a shot."

I gave him a look, and for once, he seemed to back down. "Alright, alright. Sleep well, Y/N. And try not to think too much about tomorrow. Or about me."

I slammed the door shut in his face, cutting off his words, but I could still hear his low chuckle from the other side. Then I leaned against the door, trying to steady my racing heart.

I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’ve been on plenty of dates before, so why does this one feel different? I’ve had Quidditch players asking me out, and even the prince of Eldoria once tried his luck, but none of that made me feel as nervous as I am right now. And this isn’t even a real date. It’s just a… mission, right?

I stared at the mess of clothes strewn across my room, feeling utterly lost. Is this too much? Will I be overdressed if I wear it? Or is this too casual? And I can’t stop thinking about him—nope, we won’t do that. We won’t think about him or what he’s going to wear. Or not wear. No, absolutely not. We are not thinking about him without clothes. That can’t happen. I can’t stand Mattheo, right?

But why? Why can’t I stand him? I can’t remember anymore. Maybe it’s because he makes me feel so damn nervous? And I hate that. I hate losing control. I love having control over everything, and Merlin knows he wasn’t helping with that. It’s like every cell in my body is screaming, and I mean every single one.

I finally settled on a small black dress, letting my hair fall naturally around my shoulders. I added a touch of makeup and a simple necklace, convincing myself that I was doing this for me. It’s a good chance to get dressed up and look good—to myself, right? I always do. I’m a fashion icon, and I always dress well. Not for any certain someone with beautiful eyes and hair and a body that—nope, stop it, Y/N. We’re not going there.

I took a deep breath and walked out of my dorm, only to find Mattheo standing just outside my door, hand raised as if he was about to knock. He was dressed all in black, and oh, Merlin, that shirt was doing things to me.

His eyes slowly raking up and down my body. He wasn’t even trying to hide that he was looking, and when his gaze finally reached my face, it lingered on my lips before meeting my eyes.

"Matching," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach. "You always wear black or gray, It’s hardly a coincidence Mattheo."

His smirk widened as he took a step closer. "Oh, baby, so you were trying to match with me?"

"What? Of course not!" I shot back, but my voice sounded less convincing than I would’ve liked. He laughed, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

I glared at him, crossing my arms. "If you don’t stop, I’m going back inside and forgetting about this so-called date,"

He raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. "Okay, okay, I’m sorry. You look stunning, Y/N. Absolutely breathtaking. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to focus on anything but you tonight."

I rolled my eyes again, though I could feel my cheeks heating up. "You’re so insufferable."

"And you’re so beautiful," he replied smoothly, taking my hand in his. "Now come on. Let’s get out of here."

I allowed him to lead me out of the castle, my heart pounding harder with every step. "Where are we going?"

"You’ll see," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice. "I promise it’s something you’ll like."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "If you’re up to something, Riddle, I swear—"

"Oh, I’m definitely up to something," he replied, his voice dropping to a low murmur as he glanced over at me, his eyes darkening slightly. "But I think you’ll enjoy it. Maybe even more than you expect."

My breath caught in my throat, and I tried to keep my voice steady. "You’re not fooling anyone, you know."

"Who said I was trying to fool you?" he shot back, his grip on my hand tightening slightly.

I tried to ignore the way his words made my pulse quicken. "You’re being annoyingly cryptic, you know that?"

"It’s part of my charm," he replied , his thumb brushing lightly over the back of my hand. "And besides, it’s worth the suspense, don’t you think?"

I looked at him, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "I think you’re enjoying this far too much."

He chuckled, his eyes darkening with a mischievous glint. "Oh, I am. But don’t pretend you aren’t, too."

As Mattheo led me down the dimly lit corridor, I couldn't help but notice the way his thumb was now tracing small circles on the back of my hand. The warmth of his touch sent shivers up my spine, and I fought to keep my thoughts from spiraling out of control.

My breath hitched slightly, but I forced myself to stay calm. "You’re really pushing it, Riddle."

"And you love it," he shot back, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear.

I pushed him away pretending to be annoyed it’s actually better to show him that I was so turned on. "Let’s just get this over with."

“Where are we going?” I asked, trying to inject some firmness into my voice, though it came out softer than I intended.

Mattheo glanced at me, a slow, almost predatory smile spreading across his lips. “Patience, darling."

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words got caught in my throat. The cool night air hit me like a wave, but it did little to quell the heat burning inside me.

“You look like you’re trying really hard not to think about what I’m going to do to you tonight,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. “What… what are you talking about?”

He chuckled softly, pulling me closer until our bodies were nearly touching. “Oh, come on, Y/N. Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it. About what it would feel like.”

My breath hitched, and I couldn’t stop the rush of heat that flooded my body at his words. This wasn’t happening. I wasn’t letting him get to me like this. But when he stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on my hip, I could barely think straight.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered, though it was clear even to me that I was lying.

“Liar,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “You’ve been thinking about it. And the best part? So have I.”

I blinked up at him, trying to form a coherent response when he suddenly smirked and pointed behind me. “Relax, darling. I was talking about the ride I’m going to give you tonight.”

I followed his gaze and saw a sleek black motorcycle parked nearby. “Wait… what?” I breathed out, my heart still racing.

His smirk deepened, and he raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “What were _you_ thinking about?”

“Nothing!” I shot back, far too quickly.

“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly not buying it. He started walking toward the bike, and I followed, my steps hesitant.

“What the hell is that?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at the motorcycle as if it had personally offended me.

He looked at me with exaggerated innocence. “This? It’s a bike. You know, that thing with two wheels that goes vroom?”

I glared at him, my patience wearing thin. “I know exactly what it is. I’m asking why you’re near it.”

He leaned against the bike, looking far too smug for his own good."Because we’re taking it for a ride, obviously."

“Mattheo, you didn’t… Where did you even get this from?” I asked, crossing my arms.

He grinned mischievously. “Stole it.”

My eyes widened, and I took a step back, ready to bolt. But then he laughed, shaking his head. “Kidding, darling. Just get on.”

I stared at him for a moment, debating whether I should turn around and walk back inside. But something about the way he was looking at me—challenging, teasing—made me pause. I cursed under my breath and reluctantly walked over to the bike.

As I approached, I couldn’t help but curse myself for wearing a dress. Of all nights, why did I choose tonight to be impractical? I awkwardly tried to swing my leg over the bike, careful not to flash him.

“Need some help there?”

“I’ve got it,” I snapped, finally managing to get on the bike without embarrassing myself too much.

He turned to face me, and suddenly, he was so close I could feel his breath on my face. His hands reached up, and he gently placed a helmet on my head, securing the strap under my chin. The simple act was far more intimate than it had any right to be, and I found myself holding my breath.

“You might want to hold on to me,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with suggestion.

I hesitated for a second, then wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath my hands. “If you crash this thing, I’m killing you,” I muttered against his back.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ve got you.”

he started the bike, the engine roaring to life beneath us. I tightened my grip on him as we took off, the wind whipping through my hair. The cool night air rushed past us, but all I could focus on was the heat radiating from Mattheo’s body, the way his muscles tensed and flexed as he maneuvered the bike through the darkened streets.

“Enjoying yourself back there?” he called over the sound of the wind.

I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “Just keep your eyes on the road, Riddle.”

He laughed again, but there was a dark edge to it that sent a shiver down my spine. “Oh, I am. But I can’t help but think about how good you feel pressed up against me.”

My cheeks burned, and I was grateful he couldn’t see my face. “Shut up, Mattheo.”

" careful baby remember our deal?"

“Mattheo—”

“ Yes,princess?"

" don’t open your mouth please."

He laughed " Why? You don’t like it when I talk about how your hands feel on me? Or how I can feel every little movement you make?”

“No—”

“Or maybe it’s the way you’re clinging to me right now,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, more seductive. “Like you can’t get close enough. Like you don’t want this ride to end.”

I bit my lip, trying to ignore the way his words were making my heart race even faster. He was doing this on purpose, and damn him, it was working.

“Don’t get too full of yourself,” I shot back, but my voice lacked the bite I intended.

He slowed the bike down slightly, and I felt him lean back just enough to speak directly into my ear. “Too late for that, darling. You’re driving me crazy.”

My breath caught, and I tightened my grip on him, unsure if it was to steady myself or if it was because part of me wanted him to pull over.

“Mattheo…” I warned, but my voice was weak, trembling.

He chuckled, the sound dark and promising. “Relax."

Every time he took a sharp turn or sped up, my grip on him tightened, and he would laugh softly, his voice full of that infuriating confidence. “You sure you’re not nervous?”

“I’m sure,” I replied, though my heart was racing for more reasons than just the speed of the bike.

“Good.”

As Mattheo slowed the bike to a stop, I looked around and felt a jolt of unease settle in my stomach. The area was dimly lit, with groups of people loitering around, looking like trouble. The girls wore little more than scraps of fabric, their heavy makeup making their eyes look like dark smudges in the faint light. The guys weren’t any better—tough, dangerous, and clearly up to no good.

I turned to Mattheo, my voice tinged with irritation and confusion. “What the hell, Mattheo?”

He smirked, swinging his leg off the bike. “What? I thought you’d appreciate something different from the fancy dates you’re used to. Oh, remind me again, where did Prince Edward take you to?”

“He didn’t,” I snapped back, dismounting the bike as gracefully as possible while trying to keep my dress in place. “Because I turned the date down.”

Mattheo’s grin widened, a mocking edge to it. “How bad for him.”

I rolled my eyes, glancing around nervously. “There’s no one from school here, right? I mean, how is the gossip mill going to work if they don’t notice us?”

He leaned against the bike, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, they won’t.”

“Excuse me?” I shot back, incredulous.

He laughed, shaking his head. “They’ll be more likely to be notice here than some fancy place, don’t you think?”

I frowned but nodded reluctantly. “Probably, yeah. Any normal person would feel so out of place here.”

I was about to step off the bike when I felt his hands suddenly on my hips, his grip firm. “No, not like that, princess.”

“What?” I managed to say, my voice coming out in a breathless whisper as he effortlessly swung off the bike first. Then, without warning, he placed his hands on my waist again and lifted me off the bike as if I weighed nothing.

“I wouldn’t want anyone to get a look at the show I had a minutes ago,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine.

My face flushed crimson, and I struggled to maintain my composure as his hands stayed on my waist, guiding me toward the entrance. His touch was possessive, almost claiming, and I couldn’t help the thrill that shot through me despite the chaotic surroundings.

“So, do I need to keep my wand close?” I asked, half-joking, half-serious as we neared the group.

Mattheo chuckled, his breath warm against my ear. “You really think I’d let anything happen to you?”

As we walked through the crowd, people began to notice Mattheo, their eyes lighting up with recognition. A couple of guys came over, greeting him with casual nods and low murmurs.

“Riddle! Didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” one of them said, a tall guy with a crooked grin.

Another guy came up, clapping Mattheo on the back. “Good to see you, mate. Thought you’d ditched us for good.”

“Nah,” Mattheo replied casually. “Just been busy.”

“Yeah, thought you were too good for us these days,” another chimed in, smirking.

Mattheo just shrugged, his grip on my waist tightening slightly. “Can’t forget where I came from.”

Before I could process what that meant, a girl suddenly appeared, practically throwing herself at Mattheo. She had wild, dark hair and wore a top that could barely be called clothing. “Matty! I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” she purred, her hands already trailing over his chest. Then, she noticed me, her eyes narrowing as she looked me up and down, clearly sizing me up.

I met her gaze, lifting my chin defiantly as I looked her over. She was all beautiful and confidence, but something about her screamed desperate. I couldn’t help the surge of jealousy that flared in my chest. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I snapped, crossing my arms.

The girl’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered, her lips curling into a sneer. “Who’s this?” she asked Mattheo, her tone dripping with disdain.

Mattheo’s hand slid around my waist, pulling me closer to him. “She’s My girl,” he said simply, his voice cool and dismissive.

The girl’s eyes narrowed further as she gave me another once-over. I met her gaze head-on, refusing to back down. “Got a problem with that?” I asked, my tone sweet but laced with a clear challenge.

The girl hesitated for a moment, then forced a laugh, trying to play it off. “No, of course not,” she said, but her eyes were still cold. She turned back to Mattheo, trying to regain his attention. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“Well, now you know,” I said firmly, stepping closer to Mattheo as if staking my claim.

She shot me one last glare before reluctantly backing off, clearly realizing she wasn’t going to win this one. I watched her go, feeling oddly victorious, even as my heart pounded in my chest.

Mattheo’s low chuckle drew my attention back to him, and I looked up to find him watching me with an amused glint in his eyes. “Jealous, are we?”

“Absolutely not,” I retorted, though my face was still flushed.

“Right,” he drawled, clearly not believing me.

Mattheo guided me through the throngs of people, his hand never leaving my waist as we made our way toward a secluded area. The crowd seemed to part for him, everyone stepping aside as if they knew better than to get in his way. He led me to a corner of the warehouse where a small, dimly lit bar was nestled. The area was quieter, more exclusive, with plush leather couches and a polished wooden bar that gave it an air of importance.

“This is where the VIPs hang out?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as we stepped into the area. It was a stark contrast to the chaos outside—a private sanctuary within the madness.

Mattheo smirked, pulling out a barstool for me before taking a seat himself. “You could say that. Only those who matter get to hang out here.”

I settled onto the stool, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite the flutter of nerves in my stomach. “And I’m guessing you’re one of those people?”

He chuckled, leaning in closer, his gaze locking onto mine. “What do you think, Princess?”

“I think you like making a scene wherever you go,” I shot back, trying to keep my tone light despite the way my heart was racing.

“Maybe,” he admitted, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

The bartender, a grizzled-looking man with a permanent scowl, approached us, his gaze flickering over me before settling on Mattheo.

“Riddle,” the bartender said in greeting, his voice gruff. “Been a while.”

“Hey, Greg,” Mattheo replied, his voice casual. “How’s business?”

Greg grunted, grabbing a glass and starting to mix a drink. “Same old, same old. You finally got yourself a date, eh?”

Mattheo chuckled, his hand still resting on my thigh. “Something like that.”

Greg's eyes flickered over to me again, his expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism. He took in my dress and my slightly flustered demeanor, a wry grin tugging at his mouth. “She's a fancy one, ain't she?” he commented, continuing to mix the drinks.

“Yeah, that’s for sure,” Mattheo agreed, his hand caressing my thigh. “But she’s all mine.”

I suppressed a shiver at the touch, trying to act as nonchalant as possible as I shot Mattheo a glare. He just smirked in response.

"Noted." Greg set our drinks down in front of us, a shot of dark liquor for Mattheo and something orange and frothy for me. “On the house,” he said gruffly, before moving to serve other customers.

"Can you tell me why those people know you? And how the hell are you so well-known like a famous celebrity here?"

Mattheo takes a sip of his drink, a smirk playing on his lips as he contemplates my question. “I wouldn’t say famous, darling. But I’ve spent a lot of time here... Let’s just say I know my way around.”

I raise an eyebrow skeptically. “That’s not a real answer.”

He grins, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Oh, it's a perfectly real answer. You just don't like it.”

"And what about this girl?" I ask, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.

“That’s Layla. She’s part of this crowd… a regular here, I guess you could say.”

“And you… know her well?”

He shrugs, his hand going back to rest on my thigh. “We’ve crossed paths a few times, yeah.”

There’s something in his tone that makes me pause, a flicker of jealousy stirring in my chest.

He takes another sip of his drink, avoiding my gaze for a moment. “You’re full of questions today, aren’t you?”

I scowl at his non-answer. “You’re the one who keeps avoiding them.”

He lets out a soft laugh, his hand tracing lazy circles on my thigh. “I just like seeing you get all worked up, princess.”

“So what’s your definition of crossing paths?” I ask, pressing him further.

He pauses, seeming to consider his words carefully. “Layla and I have... hooked up a few times. Nothing serious, just casual stuff.”

My heart sinks, a mix of jealousy and disappointment flickering inside me. I try to mask it, though, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it bothered me.

“And what about now? Is she still in the picture?”

His hand tightens slightly on my thigh, and I feel him tense for a moment. Then he turns his head slightly, his lips almost brushing mine as he answers, “No, she’s not.”

“Good,” I say, trying to keep my tone light, “because this whole act would be a lot less convincing if you were involved with more than one girl.”

Mattheo chuckles, the sound low and rich, as his fingers tighten their grip on my thigh, sending a jolt of electricity up my spine. “And here I thought you were just in this for the show,” he murmurs, his voice laced with amusement and something darker, more seductive.

“I am,” I say, my voice steady despite the rapid thudding of my heart. “But even in an act, there are rules.”

“Rules, huh?” He leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he speaks, his breath warm against my skin. “And what are those rules, princess?”

I bite my lip, fighting the urge to close the distance between us. I need to stay in control, to remind myself that this is just an act. “Like keeping your hands to yourself,” I whisper, but the words come out more breathless than I intended.

He chuckles again, a dark, knowing sound. “But where’s the fun in that?”

His hand slides further up my thigh, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body. My pulse quickens, and I struggle to maintain my composure.

“We’re supposed to be pretending,” I manage to say, my voice betraying the strain of keeping up the facade.

“Are we?” His lips graze the corner of my mouth, his words a challenge, daring me to keep up the pretense.

I turn my head slightly, our noses nearly touching, my breath mingling with his. “Yes,” I whisper, but it’s clear neither of us believes it anymore.

“So, just an act?” he repeats, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine.

I nod, barely managing to keep my composure. “Just an act,” I reply, though the words feel like a lie.

He tilts his head, his lips dangerously close to mine. “But we might as well convince them, right?” His tone is teasing, but there’s a fire in his eyes that says he’s not playing anymore.

I should pull away, tell him no, remind him that this is all part of the charade. But I can’t. My resolve crumbles as I look into his eyes, the intensity there pulling me in, refusing to let go.

“Right,” I whisper, my voice betraying me.

Before I can take another breath, his mouth was on mine, claiming me with a possessiveness that made my breath hitch. His lips moved against mine, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every second of it. Then, his teeth tugged on my lower lip, and I gasped, giving him the opening he needed.

His tongue slipped inside, tasting and teasing, coaxing mine into a heated dance that left me dizzy. The kiss was all-consuming, each stroke of his tongue demanding a response that I couldn’t help but give. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a declaration, a promise of everything he could make me feel.

Mattheo’s hand slid up my back, pulling me closer until I was practically melting into him. He sucked on my lower lip, pulling it between his teeth before releasing it with a soft, wet pop. The sound sent a shiver down my spine, and I found myself pressing closer, needing more of him, of this.

“Good girl,” he murmured against my lips, the praise like gasoline to the fire already burning inside me. The words sent a rush of warmth straight to my core, and I couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped my throat.

His hands were everywhere—on my hips, my waist, tracing the curve of my spine—as he guided me to straddle his lap. The shift in position made me acutely aware of the hardness pressing against me, a reminder of just how much he wanted this, wanted me.

“Such a good girl for me,” he whispered, his lips trailing down my neck, sucking and biting just enough to leave a mark. His words were a drug, intoxicating and impossible to resist. I could feel the heat pooling low in my belly, a need so intense it was almost painful.

“Mattheo,” I breathed, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer, needing him to take more, to give more.

He groaned, the sound vibrating against my skin as his hands gripped my hips, guiding me to grind against him. The friction was maddening, each roll of my hips sending waves of pleasure through me that made it hard to think, hard to breathe.

“You like that?” he asked, his voice rough, laced with a hunger that made my heart race.

“Yes,” I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders as I rocked against him, desperate for more. His hands moved to my ass, squeezing as he guided my movements, his lips capturing mine again in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was raw, primal, a clash of tongues and teeth that left me trembling in his arms.

“Good girl,” he repeated, his voice thick with desire as his hands slid under my dress, tracing the edges of my panties. “Such a good girl for me.” The praise was almost too much, his mouth was on mine, sending a fresh wave of heat through my body as I arched into him, needing him to do something, anything to relieve the ache between my thighs.

Reality crashed down on me like a cold wave, dousing the fire that had been raging between us. I was kissing Mattheo Riddle—not just kissing him, but grinding against him in a dark, dingy bar, losing control in a way that was so unlike me.

Breathless, I shook my head, my hands still resting on his chest, but I pushed him away just enough to create space between us. “We shouldn’t,” I whispered, my voice trembling with the effort to regain control.

“Why not?” he murmured.

His hands remained on my hips, firm but not forceful, as if he knew I could—and might—pull away at any moment.

“It’s wrong,” I said, though even as the words left my mouth, they felt hollow. Wrong didn’t even begin to cover the tangled mess of emotions inside me.

“It feels so right to me,” he countered, his voice low.

“That’s the problem,” I whispered, my resolve wavering as I felt the heat of his body so close to mine, the pull of his gaze making it almost impossible to think clearly. I was losing myself, losing the control I prided myself on, every time I was near him.

“Mattheo, I want to go,” I said, my voice firmer this time, though the longing in me betrayed how much I wanted to stay, to give in.

He nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes as he stood up, his hand falling away from my thigh. He kept close to me as we made our way out of the bar, his presence a constant, protective shield, yet he didn’t touch me. And damn, I hated that—hated how much I wanted him to touch me, to feel his hands on me again, even as I knew I shouldn’t.

We reached his bike, and he stood between me and the prying eyes of anyone passing by, shielding me as I climbed on. He still didn’t touch me, and it was driving me insane, the absence of his touch making me crave it even more. I hated myself for it, for wanting him so badly that it was all I could think about.

He climbed on the bike in front of me, starting the engine with a low rumble. My hands automatically went to his waist, and as soon as I made contact, it was like an electric current shot through me. My mind was a mess, a chaotic whirl of thoughts and emotions, and my body—oh, my body—was screaming for more, for him.

I clenched my hands tighter around him, trying to focus, trying to breathe, but the tension inside me was unbearable. The battle raging within me, between what I wanted and what I knew was right, was tearing me apart.

“Stop, Mattheo,” I blurted out, my voice cutting through the night.

He didn’t respond at first, but I felt his body tense under my hands. “What?” he asked, his voice tight, uncertain.

“I said stop,” I repeated, louder this time, and he immediately pulled the bike over to the side of the road, the engine cutting off with a final, ominous growl.

We were on a dark, deserted forest road, the trees casting long, eerie shadows under the moonlight. I got off the bike quickly, putting distance between us, trying to get a grip on the whirlwind of emotions inside me. I walked a few steps away, the cool night air doing nothing to calm the fire burning inside me.

I turned around, my breath catching in my throat as I saw him, standing there, taking off his helmet. His eyes were on me, intense, questioning, filled with something that made my heart race all over again.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was running back to him, my resolve crumbling to dust. I crashed into him, my hands fisting in his shirt as I pulled him down to me, my lips finding his with a desperation I couldn’t control.

His response was immediate, his hands flying to my waist, gripping me tightly as he kissed me back with a fierce, raw passion that left me breathless. His lips moved against mine with a hunger that matched my own, devouring, claiming me in a way that made my knees weak.

He lifted me effortlessly, placing me on the bike with my back against the handlebars, my legs on either side of him as he stepped between them, his body pressing into mine. The cold metal of the bike contrasted sharply with the heat of his body, the hard, unyielding surface beneath me a stark reminder of how exposed, how vulnerable I was.

But I didn’t care. I was beyond caring. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against me, needing him to take away the ache that was consuming me from the inside out.

His hands roamed over me, possessive, claiming, as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made me moan into his mouth. He was everywhere—his touch, his taste, his scent—overwhelming my senses until there was nothing left but him.

“Mattheo,” I breathed against his lips, my hands sliding up to cup his face, holding him to me as if letting go would mean losing him forever.

He growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my lips as he pulled back slightly, his eyes burning into mine, dark and wild. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice rough with barely restrained desire.

“Then show me,” I whispered, my voice trembling, both a challenge and a plea.

And he did. His hands moved down to my hips, gripping me firmly as he pulled me closer, his lips descending on mine once more, claiming me, possessing me. The kiss was hard, demanding, every stroke of his tongue, every nip of his teeth, sending shockwaves through me that left me breathless, trembling in his arms.

his hand tracing a teasing line down my side. His breath was hot against my ear as he whispered, “If I were to slip my hand between those pretty thighs right now, would I find you soaking wet, princess?”

A shiver ran through me, his words setting my skin on fire.

“You’d have to do it to find out,” I whispered back, my voice shaky.

His hand slid down to my thigh, gripping it firmly as he pushed the fabric of my dress up, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin there. The touch was electrifying, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core, making me gasp.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, dripping with praise that sent another rush of heat through me. His hand moved higher, inching closer to where I needed him most, but he took his time, teasing me, making me squirm against him.

When his fingers finally reached the edge of my panties, he paused, his eyes locking onto mine, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re already so wet for me,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he slid one finger along the slick fabric, barely touching me but enough to make my breath hitch.

I bit my lip, fighting back a moan as he continued to tease me, his finger tracing lazy circles over my clit through the thin fabric. The sensation was maddening, the light touch just enough to drive me crazy but not nearly enough to satisfy the aching need inside me.

“Let’s see how wet you really are,” he whispered, slipping his hand inside my panties, his fingers brushing against my slick folds. The contact was enough to make me moan, the sound escaping my lips before I could stop it.

His finger slid along my slit, collecting my wetness before he pressed it against my clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had me arching into his touch, desperate for more. “You’re drenched,” he murmured, his voice laced with approval, his breath hot against my neck as he continued to work me over.

“Mattheo,” I gasped, my hands gripping his shoulders as he curled his finger, finding that perfect spot that made me see stars. He added another finger, the stretch delicious as he pumped them in and out, his thumb brushing against my clit with every movement.

“Look at you princess.” he whispered, his voice a low growl as he continued to finger me, his pace steady and relentless. “You like knowing we’re still in public, don’t you, Y/N? That’s so unlike you….”

His words made my head spin, the combination of his dirty talk and the way his fingers worked me over was too much, too overwhelming. “Nothing I do when I’m with you is like me,” I admitted, my voice breathless as I bucked against his hand, craving more of the pleasure only he could give me. “But nothing has ever felt this good.”

He groaned at my confession, his fingers curling inside me, hitting that perfect spot that had me seeing stars. “Good girl,” he praised again, his voice filled with pride and lust as he kissed me hard, his lips claiming mine with a hunger that left me breathless.

I kissed him back with equal fervor, losing myself in the feel of him, the way his fingers worked me over, driving me closer and closer to the edge. His thumb pressed harder against my clit, his fingers curling inside me in just the right way, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me that made my entire body tremble.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he growled against my lips, his fingers moving faster, harder, the wet sounds of his fingers working me over filling the dark, empty forest around us. “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you, princess? Come all over my fingers like the good girl you are.”

His words were my undoing, the praise and the dirty talk too much for me to handle. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders as I shattered around him, my orgasm ripping through me with a force that left me breathless, clinging to him for support as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me.

Mattheo didn’t stop, his fingers working me through my orgasm, prolonging the pleasure until I was nothing but a trembling, panting mess in his arms. He finally slowed his movements, gently pulling his fingers out of me and bringing them to his lips, his eyes locked onto mine as he licked them clean.

“Fuck, you taste amazing,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction as he pulled me in for another searing kiss, his tongue slipping into my mouth, letting me taste myself on him.

I kissed him back, my heart racing, my body still trembling from the intensity of what he’d just done to me. I knew we were still out in the open, knew that anyone could have seen us, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was him, the way he made me feel, the way he could break down every wall I’d ever built around myself with just a touch, a word, a kiss.

breath was hot against my ear as he whispered, “Would you let me tease you, princess? Let me take my time driving you wild until you’re begging for me?”

His voice was dark, dripping with lust and promise, the words alone sending a shiver down my spine. I could only nod, still panting, my body trembling from the aftershocks of my release. The anticipation of what he was about to do had my heart racing, my breath catching in my throat.

He smirked at my response, his eyes gleaming with wicked intent. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his hands sliding down to spread my legs wider. I gasped as the cool air brushed against my heated core, my entire body thrumming with a desperate need for more.

Mattheo took his time, starting with a slow, deliberate kiss on the inside of my thigh, just above my knee. His lips were soft, his tongue darting out to taste my skin as he worked his way up, inch by agonizing inch. Each kiss, each lick, sent a fresh wave of arousal through me, making my thighs tremble in anticipation.

He alternated between gentle kisses and slow, teasing licks, his tongue tracing patterns up my inner thigh. The closer he got to where I wanted him most, the more my hips began to shift, desperate for him to end the torment. But he didn’t rush, savoring every moment, every reaction he pulled from me.

When he finally reached the apex of my thighs, he paused, his breath warm against my soaked folds. The anticipation was unbearable, every nerve in my body screaming for him to touch me, to give me the release I was so desperately craving.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice laced with dark amusement as he kissed the sensitive skin right beside where I ached for him most.

And then, without warning, his tongue was on me, the first long, slow lick sending a bolt of pleasure straight through me. I cried out, my hips bucking involuntarily as his tongue slid over my folds, his hands gripping my thighs to hold me in place.

He took his time, alternating between slow, teasing licks and firm, deliberate strokes of his tongue over my clit. Every touch was electric, every swirl of his tongue pushing me closer and closer to the edge. I was already so sensitive, still reeling from my first orgasm, and the sensation was almost too much to bear.

“Mattheo, please,” I gasped, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more.

He chuckled against me, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through me. “Patience, princess,” he murmured, his voice a dark, sinful promise. “I’m just getting started.”

He wrapped his lips around my clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue over the sensitive nub. The combination of his mouth and the steady rhythm of his tongue was driving me wild, the pleasure building so quickly that it was almost overwhelming.

He kept at it, his tongue working in tandem with his lips, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. My thighs were trembling, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps as the pleasure coiled tight in my belly, ready to snap.

And then he pushed me over the edge, his tongue curling around my clit in a way that made my vision go white. I cried out, my body convulsing as the orgasm tore through me, the pleasure so intense that I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only feel.

He didn’t stop, didn’t give me a moment to recover as he continued to work me through my release, his tongue lapping up every bit of my arousal. The overstimulation was mind-blowing, each flick of his tongue sending another shockwave through my already oversensitive body.

“Mattheo,” I gasped, my voice raw from the intensity of it all. “I can’t—”

“Oh, but you can,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding as he continued his assault on my clit, his fingers sliding back inside me to curl against that spot that made me see stars. “You’re going to cum again, princess. I want to feel you fall apart for me one more time.”

I could barely form a coherent thought, my mind completely consumed by the pleasure he was giving me. I could only nod, my body already climbing toward that peak again, the intensity of it making my head spin.

He finally pulled away, his hands gently holding my thighs as I came down from the high, my body still trembling with the aftershocks. I was completely spent, my mind foggy with pleasure, but Mattheo just grinned up at me, his lips glistening with my arousal.

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he kissed my inner thigh, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my skin. “I could do this all night.”

Tears of pleasure welled in my eyes as I reached for Mattheo, pulling him up to me. I could feel my makeup smeared, my face wet with tears that I knew had streaked down my cheeks, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was him, about the way his lips met mine in a kiss that was as fierce as it was tender.

He kissed me with a hunger that matched my own, his hands cradling my face as if I were something precious, even as I reached down, my fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt. I could feel how hard he was, could feel the heat radiating from him, and it only made me more desperate, more eager to feel all of him.

But then, to my surprise, he pulled back slightly, his hand catching mine. “No,” he murmured, his voice firm, but there was something in his tone that made me pause, that made me look up into his eyes, confused.

“What? Why?” I asked, my breath hitching, my heart pounding in my chest. The need in me was so overwhelming that I couldn’t understand why he would stop now, not when we were both so clearly on the edge.

He laughed softly, but it wasn’t mocking. It was low and full of a raw affection that sent a shiver down my spine. He leaned in and kissed me again, slow and deep, as if he were trying to pour all of his feelings into that one moment. When he pulled back, he looked into my eyes, his thumb brushing gently over my tear-streaked cheek.

“Believe me, there’s nothing I want more in this world than to bend you over this bike and take you right now, right here,” he whispered, and the words alone were enough to make my legs go weak.

“Then do it,” I pleaded, my voice trembling with both need and frustration. I didn’t care about anything else in that moment; I just wanted him.

But he shook his head, his gaze never leaving mine, his thumb still tracing the line of my cheek.

“No,” he repeated, and before I could protest, before I could beg, he continued, his voice soft but filled with a determination that left me breathless. “When I get to have you, Y/N, I want it to be when I can take my time, when I can make you feel everything I’ve been dying to give you. I don’t want to rush this, to take you in some dark forest where anyone could see. You deserve more than that, more than just a quick fuck.”

His words hit me like a tidal wave, overwhelming in their sincerity, in the sheer weight of what he was saying. I could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing that mattered in the entire world. He wanted more than just my body; he wanted all of me, and he wanted it to be right.

I was speechless, my heart pounding so hard it hurt, and all I could do was stare at him, trying to process everything he had just said. “Mattheo…” I whispered, my voice barely audible, but he silenced me with another kiss, this one gentle, full of a tenderness that brought fresh tears to my eyes.

"Not here, not like this. I want to take my time with you, princess. I want to feel every inch of you, taste every part of you, and make you mine in every possible way.”

I could only nod, tears slipping down my cheeks as I kissed him back, pouring all of my emotions into that kiss. I wanted him so badly it hurt, but I knew he was right. This—whatever it was between us—was more than just a physical need. It was something deeper, something that deserved to be treated with the care and attention he was promising.

We were supposed to be heading to class, but with Mattheo Riddle standing this close, logic and responsibility seemed to melt away. His lips were on mine, hot and insistent, and I could barely think straight. His hand was firmly on my waist, pulling me closer as if he couldn't get enough, and I had to admit, I didn’t mind in the slightest.

In the back of my mind, I knew we were in a hallway, but everything else was a blur. All I could focus on was the way Mattheo’s lips moved against mine, the way his other hand slid up to cup my cheek, deepening the kiss.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor. My eyes flew open, and Mattheo reacted instantly, pulling me into a nearby alcove and pressing a hand gently over my mouth. My heart raced, not from fear but from the thrill of almost being caught. I couldn’t help the mischievous smile that crept onto my lips as I peeked up at him.

His eyes were locked onto mine, and he had that signature smirk of his as we both listened to the footsteps drawing nearer. The Ravenclaw group passed by, completely oblivious to our presence. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at how close we had come to being caught.

As soon as they were out of sight, I grinned and grabbed his collar, yanking him back to me. “Where were we?” I asked, my voice playful as I pressed my lips to his once more. The taste of him was intoxicating, and I was already forgetting why we needed to stop.

His hands slid down my back, pulling me even closer, his lips moving hungrily against mine. “Right here,” he murmured between kisses. “Not going anywhere, princess.”

I laughed softly, feeling the thrill of the moment surge through me. “You’re going to get us both in trouble,” I teased, even as I kissed him deeper, not caring at all about the consequences.

“Worth it,” he breathed out, his lips trailing down to my collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “You know, you could just skip class… stay here with me. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I definitely don’t want to go to class right now.”

“Who says we have to?” he murmured, his voice low and tempting as he pressed another kiss to the corner of my mouth.

I sighed dramatically, feigning frustration. “You’re such a bad influence, Riddle.”

“And you’re such a willing participant, Y/L/N,” he shot back with a smirk, pulling me back in for another kiss. This time, it was even more heated, as if the idea of sneaking around had only fueled the fire between us.

But just as things were getting even more intense, a familiar voice interrupted us. “Oh, don’t mind me. Continue.”

We both pulled away quickly, turning to see Theo standing there, looking entirely too amused for my liking.

Mattheo sighed, rolling his eyes before he spoke, “Theo, mate, you’re my best friend. Can’t you find something better to do than being a cockblock?”

Theo crossed his arms, smirking. “And you two were supposed to be finding the person behind the gossip column, not making out in an empty hallway.”

At Theo's words, realization hit me like a lightning bolt. The Daily Prophet letter! It was supposed to be today! I spun around to face him. “Theo, did the letter arrive yet?”

He shook his head. “Nope, nothing. You might’ve scared them off for good.”

I frowned, trying to think straight despite the lingering heat in my body from Mattheo’s touch. “That’s strange… they’ve been so consistent."

Mattheo’s hand was still on my waist, his thumb brushing gently over my skin, and despite my worry, I couldn’t help but feel a small thrill at his touch. I turned to him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I should probably go so I won’t be late for class,” I said softly, though every part of me wanted to stay right here with him.

“You sure you don’t want to stay? I can think of a few more ways to spend the time.”

I laughed, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Tempting, but I’ll save that for later.” With that, I pulled away from him, giving Theo a playful wave as I hurried off down the corridor.

As I walked away, I could hear Mattheo’s voice behind me, low and teasing. “You know, Theo, sometimes I think you take your job as a third wheel a little too seriously.”

Theo’s laughter echoed through the hallway as I turned the corner, already counting down the minutes until I could see Mattheo again.

I sat in class, staring blankly at the parchment in front of me, my quill lazily tracing random lines across the page. The absence of the Daily Gossip Letter today was unsettling, and I could feel the unease settling over the classroom like a heavy fog. Everyone else seemed to be thinking the same thing—why hadn’t it come today? The letter had become a constant, its arrival as predictable as the sunrise, yet today, there was nothing.

As I absentmindedly doodled on my notebook, my mind began to wander, trying to piece together why the letter had stopped.

But why would it stop?

I tried to focus, to pay attention to the professor’s words, but my thoughts kept wandering. The gossip letter had become a staple at Hogwarts, a daily dose of scandal that everyone had come to expect. So why would it just… stop?

Unless… unless the person behind it didn’t need it anymore.

The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I started to think about all the things that had been written about me in that damned letter. The gossip wasn’t just random; it was targeted, specific. Almost like someone had a personal reason.

I started recalling all the gossip that had been written about me. My so-called date with Prince Edward, which wasn’t even a real date because I had turned him down. But when I returned to school, the letter had detailed everything about it—except the rejection part, of course. That happened privately, away from prying eyes. So how did the letter know about the date in the first place? Who else was in Italy at the same time as me?

My heart began to race as I straightened in my seat, my hand shaking slightly as I wrote down the names of the only two people who could have possibly known. The first name felt wrong, implausible, but the second… my stomach twisted as I scrawled it down.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. My thoughts raced back to another piece of gossip—the one about me supposedly flirting with a Durmstrang student during the Yule Ball. The truth was, I had been trying to get information about a certain dark artifact that night, and the conversation had been strictly business. Yet the letter painted a completely different picture.

Again, I scribbled down the name. My hand tightened around the quill as I recalled another instance—Time when I helped Adrian Pucey sneak into the restricted section of the library. It was late at night, and we were careful not to get caught. But the letter described it in perfect detail, down to the exact time we were there. Who else knew?

The quill in my hand quivered as I wrote down the final name. My breathing became shallow, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as all the clues finally came together, like pieces of a puzzle that I had been too blind to see. Every rumor, every piece of gossip, every little detail that had been written about me, led back to one person.

I circled the name angrily, feeling my heart break as I stared at the words on the page, the tears now spilling down my cheeks.

I didn’t care that the professor was calling my name, didn’t care about the shocked whispers that followed me as I bolted out of the classroom. All I could think about was finding him, confronting him. My feet carried me quickly down the corridors, my heart pounding in my chest as I headed toward the Great Hall. But when I got there, he wasn’t among the students milling about.

I clenched my fists, trying to think. Where would he be? Then it hit me—Quidditch practice. They had the last part of the day off.

Without another thought, I made my way to the Slytherin dorms. My mind was racing, anger and betrayal twisting in my chest as I reached his door. I didn’t hesitate as I knocked, the sound echoing in the empty corridor.

When the door opened, Mattheo’s surprised expression turned into a mischievous smirk as he leaned against the frame, eyes raking over me. “Y/N? What, you miss kissing me so much you had to skip class?” His tone was playful, teasing, and he stepped aside to let me in.

I ignored the flutter in my chest and walked past him into the room. The moment he saw my face, though, his smirk faded. He closed the door and turned to me, concern clouding his eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, as he moved closer. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

I sat down on his bed, feeling the weight of his gaze on me. His words echoed in my mind, the ones he’d said before about how the person behind the gossip letter must want to get a reaction out of me. I looked up at him, a cold smile curling my lips. "Well, was it good?"

Mattheo frowned, confusion crossing his features. “What are we talking about now, princess?”

“The reaction you got out of me,” I said, and just like that, the smile on my face vanished, replaced by the full weight of my anger and hurt. “Was it everything you hoped for?”

His face went blank, the confusion deepening in his eyes. “Wait, Y/N—”

“Checkmate, Riddle,” I said, my voice trembling as I stood up, the anger and hurt finally spilling over.

"You were the only one who knew about Italy, about what happened there. You were the one who was with me at the Yule Ball. You were there when Adrian and I sneaked into the library." My voice grew louder with each accusation, tears burning in my eyes. "All of those details, every single one of them—it was you. You were the one writing the gossip letter, weren’t you?"

Tears blurred my vision as I continued, my voice shaking with emotion. “Was it fun for you? Watching me losing my mind, seeing how much it effected me? Was it a game, Mattheo? Did you enjoy it? You said the person doing this wanted a reaction—well, congratulations, you got it. You got everything you wanted. I trusted you… I thought you cared, but you were just playing me all along.”

“You’ve been playing me this whole time, haven’t you? Feeding me lies, watching as I fell for every trap you set. And for what? A laugh? A good story?”

“Y/N, that’s not—” he started, but I cut him off.

“Save it,” I spat out, my voice breaking under the weight of my emotions. “You’ve already won. I just wonder why you haven’t written your final story yet—it’s a good one. Especially the part where you—"

But before I could finish, he cut me off, his voice trembling with an emotion I hadn’t expected.

"What could I have done, Y/N? What could I have possibly done?" he began, his words tumbling out in a rush, raw and unfiltered. "I was there, yes, I was right there with you—through all of it. But do you know why? Do you know why I couldn’t stay away?"

I froze, his words piercing through my anger like a knife. He continued, his voice thick with desperation. "I’ve loved you all this time, from the first day I got off that stupid train, from the first moment I laid eyes on you. And I can’t remember a single day where I haven’t been in love with you.

He paused, his eyes locked on mine, pleading for understanding. "It wasn’t just some stupid crush, Y/N. It was an obsession, it was madness—but it was love. I loved you, and I still love you. I was desperate… Desperate to be near you, to be a part of your life, even if it meant doing something as twisted as this."

I stood frozen."You could have just said that. You should have just told me that."

"Yeah, right," he scoffed bitterly, shaking his head. "Fucking right, Y/N."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice wavering.

"You had a damn prince crying after you rejected him," Mattheo snapped, his frustration and jealousy spilling over. "A prince, Y/N! And here I am, the son of a psychopath, the last person anyone should ever trust, much less love. What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, by the way, I’m in love with you, even though my father’s the Dark Lord and everyone expects me to be just like him’? Who the hell would ever want that?"

He paced the room, running a hand through his hair as he continued, his voice strained. "Every day, I watched you. I saw you with your friends, with guys who could give you everything—everything. And the worst part? The worst fucking part was knowing that no matter what I did, no matter how close I got, it would never be enough. Not for someone like you."

Tears welled up in my eyes again, but this time they weren’t from anger. "You don’t get it, Mattheo. None of that mattered to me. None of it. I didn’t care about titles or any of that. I just wanted someone who was real with me. Someone who saw me for who I am, not just as some piece in a game."

He stopped pacing and turned to me, his expression softening. "I did see you, Y/N. That’s why I did what I did. The letters… they were my way of being close to you, of being a part of your world. But I was so scared of losing you, of you finding out what I’d done, that I just kept digging myself deeper. And now… now I’ve lost you anyway."

His voice broke on the last word, and the sight of him standing there, so vulnerable, shattered the last of my defenses.

Just as I was about to respond, movement from the next bed caught my eye. I blinked, my heart skipping a beat when I saw Enzo sitting up, looking between Mattheo and me with wide, startled eyes, propped up on his elbows.

He Clearly had heard more than enough. "Oh, fuck," he muttered, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "I’ve got this thing—relationship phobia. Can’t be around emotional confessions, they give me hives." [p.s that’s the same Enzo from Down bad pray for him]

He awkwardly shuffled out of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, guys. Gonna get out of here real quick. Pretend I was never here, yeah?" With that, he practically bolted out of the room, leaving me staring after him in disbelief until the door clicked shut behind him.

This family is insane.

We both stood there in silence for a moment, the sudden interruption leaving us both a bit stunned. I didn’t know what to say, and it seemed like Mattheo didn’t either.

“Y/N,” he finally whispered, his voice cracking as he took a tentative step toward me. “Please… say something. Anything.”

“You hurt me, Mattheo,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You lied to me, manipulated me."

“I know,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I did, and I hate myself for it. But Y/N, please believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how else to keep you close.”

Tears welled up in my eyes again, and I wiped them away furiously, hating how vulnerable I felt in this moment. “Why didn’t you just tell me how you felt? Why did you have to go through all this?”

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, his voice so quiet, so broken, that it made my chest ache. “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how else to be close to you. I didn’t know how to tell you that I loved you without feeling like I was going to lose you.”

I bit my lip, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “But you didn’t have to do it like this, Mattheo. You didn’t have to lie to me, to manipulate me, just to be close. I would’ve—” My voice broke, and I had to take a deep breath to steady myself. “I would’ve loved you anyway."

Mattheo's face softened, his brow furrowing in confusion as he whispered, "You would?" His voice was barely audible, almost as if he didn’t believe the words that had just left his lips.

I couldn’t bring myself to answer right away. My heart was pounding, and I could feel the walls I had built around myself beginning to crumble. Without a word, I got up from the bed and walked toward him, each step feeling heavier than the last.

"Yeah," I finally said, my voice trembling as I stood in front of him. "Because it would’ve been easy, Mattheo."

His eyes searched mine, desperate and lost, as if he was trying to find the truth in my words.

"I’ve loved you," I began, my voice cracking, "from the moment I stepped off that stupid train, too love must have been in the air that day or something. But I couldn’t let myself admit it. Instead, I pushed you away, pretended I couldn’t stand you because I was terrified—terrified of how much I wanted you, how much I needed you." Tears spilled over, and I couldn’t stop them this time. They streamed down my face as I choked out the words I had been too afraid to say for so long. "I didn’t know how to deal with how much you consumed me, so I fought it. But it was always you, Mattheo. It was always you."

He moved closer, his hands gently cupping my face, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. His touch was soft, so different from the way he usually carried himself—like he was afraid I might break if he wasn’t careful.

“I didn’t know…” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“I did. I do,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper as I leaned into his touch. “I just didn’t want to admit how much you meant to me. How much you still mean to me.”

Mattheo’s forehead rested against mine, his breath warm on my skin as he held me close. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice filled with a kind of raw vulnerability I’d never heard from him before. “I didn’t know how to show you what I felt without messing everything up. I was so afraid of losing you that I did the exact thing that could drive you away.”

I shook my head, trying to push away the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. “I know,” I whispered, my hands clutching the front of his shirt as if he was the only thing keeping me grounded. “I know now that the letters were more about admiring me than harming me. They only felt too much when another boy was involved, and… and I get it. I get that it was your twisted way of dealing with jealousy.”

He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his gaze intense but soft, as if he was seeing me for the first time. “You mean everything to me,” he said, his voice so quiet it was almost a breath. “I just didn’t know how to show it without screwing it up.”

“You don’t have to be perfect,” I told him, my voice shaky as I tried to make him understand. “You just have to be you. That’s all I ever wanted.”

Mattheo’s grip on me tightened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in the softest, most tentative kiss. It was like he was asking for permission, for forgiveness, and I gave it to him willingly, kissing him back with all the emotions I had kept bottled up for so long.

As the kiss deepened, I felt the last of my walls crumble, leaving me completely vulnerable in his arms. But for the first time, I wasn’t afraid. I knew that despite everything, this was where I was meant to be. And maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other from here.

“I love you,” I whispered against his lips, my voice thick with tears and longing.

“I love you to—”

The door suddenly burst open, and Blaise walked in, his eyes widening as he took in the scene. He froze for a moment, his gaze darting between the two of us, and then a slow smirk spread across his face.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. “Isn’t this cozy? I was just coming to grab a book, but it looks like I walked into the middle of a romance novel. Should I start narrating? ‘And in that moment, their love ignited like a house elf’s poorly managed kitchen fire…’”

I felt my face flush, and I quickly stepped back from Mattheo, wiping at my eyes. “Blaise, could you just…not?” Mattheo said .

Blaise chuckled, completely unfazed by Mattheo’s irritation. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’ll just be over here, pretending I didn’t walk in on whatever _this_ is.” He waved his hand vaguely in our direction before sauntering over to the bookshelf.

I shot Mattheo a look, trying to stifle a laugh as Blaise exaggeratedly searched for his book, humming to himself like nothing unusual had happened.

Mattheo sighed, shaking his head as he muttered, “I’m killing you after this.”

“Nuh,” Blaise called out, pulling a book from the shelf and turning back to us with a grin. “You love me.”

“Debatable,” Mattheo shot back, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

Blaise winked at me before heading toward the door. “Carry on with your dramatic declarations of love. I’ll leave you two to…whatever this is.” With that, he slipped out of the room, leaving us alone once more.

As the door clicked shut, I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, Mattheo looked down at me.

“Where were we?” he asked softly, pulling me back into his arms.

“I think you were about to tell me how much you love me,” I teased, my heart swelling with warmth.

“Right,” he whispered, his voice turning serious again as he leaned in to kiss me. “ Fuck yeah I love you. So much.”

[sunshineandlyrics]

Charlie Sarsfield also replied to a fan asking about his creative process and Louis' involvement in this MV.

Charlie Sarsfield, director of the Silver Tongues music video, commented on this reaction from a video editor.

The text:

Hey brother, (the director here 😅)

Thanks for reacting to my video. YouTube just served me up a slice of humble pie 🤣

The lighting was intentional, the idea that are memories are hazy, some bits we remember almost too well, and others fade into the background.

All the interior shots were actually set builds that we built in a studio on the site, the pub was the only set that existed.

In terms of your distaste for the blurry shutter, I can appreciate that, but I love it, and as film makers if we’re not allowed to have some fun what’s the point…. It also was there to reference hazy memories.

The shot at the end is to signify we’re all stronger together, growing up is hard and normally it’s our friends that help to guide us through it all.

I could carry on but it would turn into and essay, and no one wants that.

Glad you enjoyed it, and you’ve got a new subscriber ❤️🫡

Thanks to @dearly for her post.

[just-jordie-things]

friendly neighborhood spiderman - fushiguro megumi

word count: 25k i need a lobomy warnings: swearing, men making reader uncomfortable, some blood n bruises summary: besides being morally gray, megumi has never crossed any personal boundaries while protecting the city disguised as the spiderman. that is, until it comes to her. a thorn in his side, a plague to his mind, and a skip in his heart. wait, what?

notes: SPIDERMAN AU! rivals to unknown friends to unknown lovers to..??

___

With great power comes great responsibility…

To that, Fushiguro Megumi said; no shit.  

Living a double life wasn’t always the easiest thing in the world, but the justice part came to him naturally.  He didn’t like to call his abilities superpowers, there was something too childish about it, but since gaining them, Megumi had known there was some kind of reason.

Maybe it was because he had a stronger sense of right and wrong than most of the people he knew.  His peers at the college he attended seemed to have more interest in alcohol poisoning than anything else, so he supposed it made sense that if a radioactive spider bit had to give someone powers… it might as well have been him.

Besides, he was kind of a loner, so it wasn’t hard to hide his double life.  Every day he followed the same routine.

Wake up early to work out and do a quick patrol of the city, try to get to his classes on time, study in between lectures, study through lunch, and then as soon as his last class of the day was over he was off to swing through the city and keep an eye on things.

There had been an uptick in crime in Tokyo lately, and Megumi hadn’t quite put his finger on why.  It had never been the safest city in Japan, but since taking on this role it seemed like criminals everywhere were crawling out of the cracks and shadows to challenge him.  Not that anything had proven to be too challenging for The Spiderman… petty criminals made it easy.

“Late again, Fushiguro” 

There were, however, challenges that Megumi faced.

(y/n) swiveled around in her seat just as he’d sat down behind her.  To think he’d patted himself on the back for only being three minutes late today.  He should’ve known she was counting down the minutes to rub it in his face.

Resting her elbows on the back of her seat so she could smirk at him, she plops her chin on her fists and eyes him curiously.  Megumi can’t even be bothered to roll his eyes, he’d grown too tired of the same banter every day.

If she couldn’t take his place at the top of the class, (y/l/n) (y/n) would have to find some other way to antagonize Megumi- and she took that job all too seriously.  Unfortunately their class schedules were almost identical, seeing as they were both enrolled in as many accelerated courses as they could be, so Megumi spent most of his day in her vicinity.  And hell, she never let him forget it.

When he barely even looks at her, (y/n) turns back around in her seat, seemingly already prepping her notebook for her notes of the day.  She’s probably one of those girls that makes every page pretty and aesthetically pleasing, Megumi finds himself frowning at his own train of thought.  He only had seven more hours of putting up with her competitive attitude, and then he’d be free and far from it.

Nothing cleared his mind like swinging around the city.  She couldn’t possibly plague him once he was in his suit.  He tried to tell himself that through the rest of class, everytime her hand shot up in the air and she bragged her way through perfect, textbook answers.

It was no doubt that she’d be successful after graduation.  Megumi would rather die than admit it out loud, but he wouldn’t be surprised in the least if she ended up a millionaire- billionaire- with how well studied and determined she was to win.  If she put half the effort into her future career that she did just by bothering him, she’ll probably earn herself some title of youngest most successful woman. 

Hopefully by then she’ll be too busy to bother him anymore.  Although Megumi assumes that by the time graduation rolls around, he’ll never see her again.  

She was probably counting down the days until then, too. ___

Megumi spent his lunches alone.

This didn’t really bother him.  He didn’t have much interest in making friends, and never put much effort into it.  He liked to think he was kind, but he knew he wasn’t the most approachable guy in the world.  If he was honest, he kind of liked it that way.  So long as he kept his clothes dark, his face expressionless, and his hair untamed, then he seemed to ward people off.  No one approached his usual small table in the corner of the lunchroom unless they needed to borrow one of the extra empty chairs.  Even then, people seemed nervous to ask, and more often than not someone would scurry over and take one without a word, rushing it back to their table before Megumi could say something untoward.

The way he dressed himself wasn’t the only thing keeping people away.  His reputation might have something to do with it as well…

But that fight wasn’t his fault.  Not necessarily.  So what if someone got sent to the hospital? Megumi was a believer in consequences being served… and if no one else was going to deliver, then he supposed it came down to him to do the right thing.  This was before the spider bite, before Spiderman, so his strong sense of justice had nowhere to be channeled.

To Megumi, all that mattered was the guy learned his lesson.  And by the way, he did live.  He just had to spend a week in Intensive Care to pull through, is all.

Unapproachable was an understatement when it came to Megumi.

Maybe that’s why he found (y/n) all the more obnoxious.

He minds his business during his lunch hour- although he’d argue that he minds his business all the time.  Sitting in the corner with headphones large enough to make the point clear that he didn’t want to be bothered, his nose was always stuck in a book.  He’d eat with one hand and scribble in his notebooks with the other.  Even if he could afford a laptop he didn’t want to use one.  His time was better utilized if he could study and eat  simultaneously.

The corner of his eye twitches when he catches a glimpse of her in his peripheral.  He hates that the hair on the back of his neck stands up when she shows up, all of his nerves tingling like a warning.  His grimace is obvious as he finds her walking through the cafe with the little lunch box he knew was perfectly organized in multiple compartments.  She probably didn’t let any of her food touch.

She’s stopped on her mission to get to her table of know-it-all friends, and Megumi shouldn’t care that some guy called her over to his table to talk to her, it’s a bit of a boring scene, honestly.  He should get back to his studying now, but for some reason he’s compelled to watch from the back of the room as (y/n) drags her feet over to the guy’s table.

Megumi doesn’t recognize him, or really any of his surrounding friends, but by the looks of it they seemed like the kind of guys that wouldn’t have gotten into the classes he’s taking.

A year ago Megumi wouldn’t have been able to hear their conversation, not from across the busy cafe where a hundred other conversations are happening, but now he finds it easy to tune out all the other noise and eavesdrop on (y/n) and this frat boy.

“You always walk by without saying hello.  You tryin’ to hurt my feelings, princess?” The frat boy feigns heartbreak, holding his hand to his chest all the while grinning at her.

“Hello”

(y/n’s) reply is rigid.  She sounds as bored as Megumi feels watching her.  He almost scoffs at himself for even paying this much attention.  Clearly his little warning sense was misfiring, because nothing of interest is playing out here.  He was starting to consider this a waste of his heightened abilities.

“Awe, c’mon now gorgeous, you can do better than that,” Fratboy clicks his tongue in mockery.  “Why don’t you come sit?” 

“I’m sitting with my friends” 

Once again, her tone is as flat and dry as could be.  Megumi starts to wonder what Fratboy even wants with her.  Besides her personality being insufferable, she clearly isn’t interested in whatever he’s offering.  How many hints can this guy possibly miss?

“Rain check?” Fratboy asks hopefully.  It could almost be endearing if it wasn’t for the slimy grin he wore.  Megumi hated to think it, but (y/n) outranked this guy on every scale.

“Yeah.  Maybe” (y/n’s) voice falls to a mumble before she turns and walks away, this time at a faster pace than before.

As she finds her place at her table, she glances over her shoulder, feeling the prickle of someone’s eyes following her.  Megumi’s senses are one step ahead, and he’s quick to drop his head to focus back on his studies again.  He’d already lost five minutes to watch a pointless interaction, he didn’t need to lose more time by facing her evil eye if she’d caught him staring at her.

Idiot, he thinks as he takes a more aggressive bite of his food than necessary.  Getting behind on schedule for (y/n) of all people.  

He pushes the whole thing as far from his mind as he can as he gets back to work. ___

Tokyo had been rather quiet this evening.  Not that Megumi was complaining.  It was refreshing to see the streets peaceful, even this late into the night.

Eleven o’clock might not be the ideal dinner time for your average person, but for Spiderman, it was the norm.  And Megumi liked having a quiet night where he could have a quick street food dinner at the skyline overlooking the whole city.  It was peaceful up there.  With all the stars out, a perfect breeze coming in, and without the noise of pedestrians out and about down on the streets, Megumi could positively say this was his secret piece of heaven.

Most things about his life were a secret- but this especially he held this place close.

As expected there wasn’t a single pesky thought of school on his mind.  Like the sky, it was clear and peaceful.

At least it was, until he was mid-bite of his sandwich and he caught sight of something sketchy in his peripheral.

The familiar sensation of the hair on the back of his neck prickling rises when he turns to watch the scene unfold.  An unmarked car with blackout windows pulling up behind one of the many small 24-7 convenience stores and a few men with various clown masks getting out of it.  He huffs in annoyance, already swinging down and dumping the remainder of his perfectly good sandwich in the trash.

When were these idiots going to learn that robbing a convenience store was never worth it? He wonders as he lands on the roof of the building the men had just gone into.  He finds there’s only one guy left in the car, the getaway driver he’s sure.  Pulling his mask over his face he’s swift and silent in webbing up the door handles and tires of the car.  He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Just as silently, he drops to the ground, and enters the store.

It’s not the first time Spiderman has made an appearance during a stick up.  And Megumi’s sure it won’t be his last, seeing as no one ever learns.

“Well if it isn’t Spiderboy” One of the three clowns, Megumi assumes the ringleader, taunts him with a laugh.  He cocks his gun and aims it at him, but Megumi’s not the slightest bit threatened by a gun.  Typical, he thinks.

He barely acknowledges the silent threat at all, instead scoping out the store quickly.  

There’s one man behind the counter, his hands raised and shaking.  It appears he hasn’t handed over any money yet, which is good.  It makes for a quicker and cleaner exit for Megumi.

A couple is cowering behind the first aisle of snacks, trying to peek over the shelves without being seen- they’re not doing a very good job, but with Spiderman here now Megumi figures they’ve assumed their safety is guaranteed.  They aren’t wrong.

And then there was a girl in the very back, two aisles behind the couple, and apparently far less brave as well.  She’s crouched all the way to the ground, her hands clasped tightly over the back of her neck as if this was a tornado drill and not a robbery.  At least her head is down, Megumi thinks.  It’s not often he comes across civilians with a decent sense of self preservation.

“Did you hear me, Spiderboy-?” The ringleader’s second taunt is barely finished before there’s two webs flying at him.  One aimed for the barrel of his gun, covering his mask, gluing it straight to his face and muffling his mouth.

“Yeah yeah, I fuckin’ heard you,” Megumi grumbles.  Criminals loved to call him all sorts of names, he figured it comes with the job, but man did it get old.

There’s two other clowns, lackeys, he supposes.  These types hardly worked alone these days.  Megumi always wondered if they thought being in numbers would protect them from Spiderman.  Again, they never learn.

It takes him all of five seconds to web up their weapons as well.  Some glued to their hands and chest, rendering them useless, others so tied up in the sticky string that they couldn’t move any limbs if they tried.

“You think you can go around playing hero and people will respect you for it?” One of the lackeys snarls when Megumi tears the mask from his face.  He does the same for the other, but the second clown seems too afraid to speak.  Good.  “People ‘round here don’t give a shit, Spiderboy.  You think they’ll thank you? Heh? You think they’ll throw you a nice parade and chant your name?” 

Megumi rolls his eyes, patting down his pockets in search of any identifiable information.  Like he presumed, he finds a phone and wallet.  Sometimes it felt like these guys weren’t even trying to get away with their crimes.

Paying the lackey clown no mind, he turns over his shoulder and motions to the couple behind the shelf.  They raise their heads a little further, eyes wide and seemingly surprised Spiderman was addressing them.

“It’s safe to go,” He tells them with a wave of his hand.  “Go straight to the police station to report this” 

Does he have faith they’ll listen? No, he assumes they’ll be likely to go home.  Megumi doesn’t care much.  The police weren’t exactly his allies.  But if he was going to do their jobs for them, he was going to have to at least act like he was playing by their rules.

“Playing nice with the cops, tch,” The loudmouth lackey continues on.  “When they show up, they’ll take you before they take any of us- mmph!” 

“Much better,” Megumi sighs when his webbing does just the trick to shut the guy up.  Will he suffocate with it covering his mouth? Of course not, “Breathe through your nose,” He grumbles when the lackey’s face starts to take on a blue hue.  “Fucking idiots, you’re all the fucking same” He sighs, dropping the guy’s phone and open wallet on the ground before him, making sure it’s on perfect display for when the cops arrive.

“Th-thank you, Spiderman,” The shopkeeper behind the counter finally begins to lower his hands.  It appears he’s still shaking, but Megumi’s sure it’s the adrenaline rush he’s coming down from.  He’ll be fine in no time.  Especially once the police arrive and whisk these guys away.  “I- I don’t know how I can repay you” 

“It was nothing” Megumi replies, monotone as ever, but it’s the truth.  The whole ordeal was over in the matter of three minutes.  A robbery had barely begun when he’d shown up and shut it down.

The shopkeeper looks startled by the less-than-friendly attitude of his savior, but he doesn’t say a word, just picks up his phone to dial up the police.

Megumi’s on the move heading out of the store, ready to make himself scarce before law enforcement shows up, but of course he can’t leave just yet.

“Hey,” He calls towards the last civilian in the shop, the girl crouched on the ground, still covering herself.  “Hey,” He calls again when she doesn’t react, taking a few steps towards her.  “You’re good to go now,” He says, but even still, she doesn’t move.

It takes a tap on her shoulder for her to startle, finally uncovering the back of her head and looking up at him.  She stays on the ground, but now Megumi’s stunned to silence as well as he stares back at her.

(y/n)? He’s grateful for his mask for the millionth time but in a whole new way now.  What the hell was she doing out here in the middle of the night? 

She doesn’t say anything as she stares up at him with wide eyes.  He can’t tell if she’s still in shock, but the longer he waits for her to say something, she doesn’t.

“Are you… alright?” 

It’s a normal question to ask, he probably says it a hundred times a night, making sure no one’s left hurt or afraid.  But this time, asking her, it felt foreign coming out of his mouth.  He’s never been put in a position to… care… about her wellbeing before.  But now’s as good a time as any, seeing as she’s still got her knees to her chest and a shell shocked look on her face.

“You’re- you’re Spiderman” Is the first thing she says, her voice barely above a whisper.  Megumi could roll his eyes, but he’s too busy waiting for her to get up and get moving.

“And you’re not sitting around here all night, c’mon” He beckons her upwards, and to his surprise she takes it as an offer to grab his hand, and he finds himself pulling her up to her feet.

“You’re a lot taller than I thought you’d be” She mumbles, and if she could see his face she’d watch a look of puzzlement befall him.

“Get that a lot” He mutters, making an obvious motion to eye the hand that she still has gripping his gloved one.

“Oh, sorry,” She’s still quiet, quieter than he’s ever heard her speak before, and it’s starting to intrigue him.  

Was she this afraid of a pesky little robbery? He wondered, looking her up and down.  She wasn’t trembling, she showed little to no sign of distress at all.  For a girl that had nearly gone full armadillo just a few minutes ago, she didn’t seem all that afraid.

“I’m just- uh-” She clears her throat, and Megumi thinks it’s the first time he’s ever heard her stammer, or misspeak at all.  “I’m a big fan” She finishes, her quiet voice sounding more shy now than anything else.

Wait, what!? 

“A fan?” Megumi repeats in disbelief, and (y/n) smiles softly as she nods her head.

“You don’t get that a lot too?” She asks, inching towards speaking at a normal volume.

This is the part where he leaves, and he knows it.  The authorities were bound to be close now, and it’d give him more trouble if he was still around when they got here.  He couldn’t be wasting his time, especially on her.

But he lingers there for a second longer anyways.  There was an undeniably curiosity creeping under his skin.  Never would he have pegged (y/l/n) (y/n), regular goody-goody, as a Spiderman fan.  It had him wondering if there was more to her than met the eye.  

Maybe she was… a normal person…? Could it be true? 

Flashing lights interrupted his thoughts, his head swiveling to see approaching red and blue

“Fuck!” He cursed, and behind him (y/n) covered her mouth to stifle her giggle.  Jeez, did she expect some squeaky clean guy to be under the mask? “You’re fine, right?” He asks her, already stepping away to make his escape.

(y/n) nods her head, still giving him an awestruck look.  It makes his face feel hot under his mask.  Could she really be this enamored with Spiderman? So much so she’s rendered speechless.

“Right- well- maybe stop shopping in the middle of the night and you find yourself in these situations” He tries to be serious, but she grins as she nods back at him in agreement.

“I’ll try my best, Spiderman” 

With that he’s out the door and swinging off just before the cops round the corner to the building.  He’d just narrowly missed them, but that was the closest he’d come to getting spotted by them in quite a while.  Until then, he’d done a good job making a clean getaway.

He huffs and tugs his mask off of his head when he finds a fire escape distant enough to rest at.  Of all the crimes he’s interrupted, that was definitely one for the books.  And it had nothing to do with the tacky clown masks or shitty execution.

His chest felt tight, an odd feeling creeping into his bones.

Shit.  He still hadn’t had a proper dinner. ___

Megumi’s exhausted the next morning when he strolls into class.  He’s five minutes late today, but he tells himself that ten is his limit so he’s still doing just fine.  He never gets a second glance from the professor anyways- with his grades? His professor wouldn’t care if he didn’t show up to class at all.

(y/n), however, cares very much about Megumi’s punctuality.

“Who taught you to be so disrespectful of other people’s time, Fushiguro?” She mocks a pout at him, already turned around in her seat to bother him as usual.

Megumi gives her a bored look, maintaining eye contact as he opens his notebook to a fresh page.  (y/n) raises a brow impatiently, waiting for some kind of response, but Megumi remains silent.  This is fitting for him, he rarely engages in her banter these days, but his silence feels different today.  Something about the way he looks at her makes her feel like he’s sizing her up, or something.

“What?” The word comes out in a mumble, her brows furrowing as he meets his inquisitive stare with a confused glare.

Megumi purses his lips, shakes his head, taps the eraser of his pencil rhythmically against his notebook.

“Nothing” 

It’s all he has to say, and for once (y/n) doesn’t have a snarky remark.  She just gives him a weird look and faces forward in her seat again.  Maybe he’d caught her off guard by actually speaking to her, even if it was just one word, it’s more than he’s given in a while.  Pretty much since the spider bite.  Engaging in petty arguments seemed pointless after that.

As he takes notes on the lecture of the day, he can’t help but be drawn to the back of (y/n’s) head.  He didn’t like the idea of giving her any of his attention, but his thoughts were drifting out of his control, and he couldn’t stop replaying last night in his mind.  The way she looked at him, smiled at him, like he was her hero.  And now today he was reduced to the dirt under her perfectly clean shoe.  It was like he had a secret about her now.  There might not be a way for him to dangle it over her head openly… but he knew, and for now, that was enough.

By the time class ended, Megumi already had his bag packed up, and he was the first out the door.  If he got to the next lesson before her, he could claim a seat in the back where she wouldn’t dare be caught sitting.  Maybe then he wouldn’t get so distracted.

Even with his heightened senses however, he doesn’t notice the way (y/n) watches him book it out of the classroom, a knot between her brows at his odd behavior.  Because since when has Fushiguro Megumi rushed to class? ___

It’s hard not to notice Megumi is avoiding her more than usual.  She shared almost every class with him, besides one art course she took, (y/n) saw him every hour of the day.  It also helped that being the top two of their class they were always seated somewhere near the front, and closer to each other than either one of them would like.

It doesn’t bother her that Megumi’s been sitting in the back of the class with the other slackers.  She couldn’t care less if he decided not to come to class at all- in fact it would be wonderful for her.  If his grades slipped just a little bit she could take his spot as top student, a position that was rightfully hers seeing as she was punctual and present in every class.  Unlike Megumi, who hardly participated unless asked to, and acted like he couldn’t care less about his status.

She always wondered if he truly didn’t care about his ranking.  He certainly acted like he didn’t, rolling his eyes at her comments if he wasn’t ignoring her completely.  But was it just an act? 

(y/n) made it an effort not to think any more about Fushiguro Megumi than she had to.  But sometimes he made that difficult for her.  Like now, when he’s sitting in the back of the class with his blocky headphones on.  She can’t help but peek over her shoulder at him, eyeing the way he actively took notes from what was on the whiteboard at the front of the class.  But how well could he learn if he wasn’t even listening? 

He catches her staring not a second later, his bored blue eyes landing on hers and holding her stare.  His expression is unchanging, completely neutral as he stares back at her, but it still feels intense.  (y/n’s) quick to shoot her eyes forward and begin scribbling messy words in her otherwise neatly kept notebook.  Was it just intense because he’d caught her staring right at him? Her face feels warm, her heartbeat kicks into an anxious pattern.

Clearly, whatever his issue was, she needed to just ignore it completely.  He seemed to do just fine doing the same, maybe it was time for her to take a page out of his book and give him the same treatment.

Still, her eyes catch him in every hallway, every class, every moment he’s around, she spots and scans him as if there’s going to be some hint as to what brought on his change in behavior. ___

A couple of peaceful weeks were well appreciated, but Megumi must’ve taken them for granted, because tonight was a rough one.

He could enjoy a good fight, he’d grown up a fighter, so it all came naturally to him.  Right hook, dodge, web, kick, swing- there were just a few extra steps to his hand-to-hand that came from the spider bite’s abilities.  To him, that made the act of fighting all the more fun.  He wasn’t afraid to admit he got a certain rush out of beating someone up.  When it was justified, there wasn’t a feeling like it.

Getting beat up, however, sucked.

Maybe the guy was on steroids, maybe the adrenaline got to his head and his fight or flight kicked into high gear, Megumi wasn’t sure what his deal was, but he certainly took a beating before finally knocking the petty handbag thief out and getting him webbed up for the cops to take care of.

It wasn’t till he got away and found an alley secluded enough that he was able to check his injuries.  He didn’t have to take his mask off to know his head had taken most of the damage.  He could taste the blood of his split lip, and feel the hot throbbing behind his eye.  

Great.  Going to class with a black eye won’t draw any attention.

With a groan he leaned back into the brick of one of the surrounding buildings, trying to even out his labored breathing.  It wouldn’t be a surprise if he found his torso littered with black and blue, too.  As much as it hurt, Megumi was more irritated than anything.  Hiding injuries was the worst part of his secret double life.  College kids always wanted to hear the gnarly stories behind visible cuts and bruises.  Megumi only hoped his shitty reputation would be enough to keep people away.

He couldn’t sit around for long, there was still a city that needed patrolling, so Megumi kicked off the wall and took a few deep, harsh breaths as he left the alley, ready to go for a swing around the next few blocks to make sure everything was as it should be.  Quiet.  It was almost one in the morning, most people should be turned in for the night by now.

Just as he reaches the sidewalk and before he can fly off into the air, however, he’s met by a not-quite-stranger.

(y/n) almost runs right into him, speed walking down the sidewalk with her head down, clearly on a mission.  Had he stepped out a second later she might’ve crashed into him, but it’s hard for her to not notice the six foot tall man in a head to toe black suit.

For half a second she looks alarmed- rightfully so, a strange man just came out of an alley, if she had half a mind she’d turn and run without thinking.  But as expected, Megumi finds she has no sense of self preservation as she looks at the block in her path with a grin.

“You again” She greets him like she knows him now.  (She does know him, but she doesn’t know she knows him, you know?) And her smile is so genuinely bright that Megumi starts to feel sick.

“Again,” He sighs, the groan in his voice not going unnoticed.  “Didn’t I tell you not to walk around alone this late at night?” His voice still sounds weird, and it’s shortly after that (y/n) notices his hand hovering over his ribcage.

“Did you get hurt, or something?” She ignores him completely, all the while putting her phone in her pocket to give him her full attention.

“I’m Spiderman, I don’t get hurt” Megumi argues, but the wince in his voice is obvious, and (y/n) somehow sees right through it.

“Okay… well… even Spiderman has to go to urgent care sometimes, right?” She tries to be lighthearted, but her smile is wavering now, concern seeping into her features.

Megumi can barely stand to look at her.  What is she doing? Staring at him like that, like she knows him, like she cares about him.  Can’t she just go the fuck home where it’s safe and more importantly: away from him?

“Tch, I don’t think so” He mutters.

(y/n) frowns.

“Spoken like a true idiot man,” She scolds.  Jeez, last time they crossed paths like this she’d said she was a fan, now this? “What is it with you guys and your reputations, huh? You’re not any stronger for toughing out an injury without help, you know” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, mom” Megumi argues back.  She scoffs, but it turns into a small laugh shortly after.

“You could at least put ice on it, you know” She says, stepping past him and continuing on her way down the sidewalk.  Megumi tosses his head back to silently curse at the sky.

“Did I not make myself clear that you should go home?” He calls after her.

“Ice is this way” Is all (y/n) says, and all she has to say to get him to groan at nothing in particular and follow after her.

It’s a good thing it’s so late at night, there’s no one to see Spiderman walking around with some random girl.  Surely the papers would have a hay day if even a photo was snapped… he doesn’t even want to think about what kind of headlines they’d come up with.

“I can buy my own ice” He tells her after a minute of walking in silence.

“I know,” (y/n) shrugs.  “But so far it seems like you’re letting me hang out with you, so I’ve gotta enjoy it just a little bit longer” 

“We’re not hanging out,” Megumi replies dryly.  “You’re refusing to go home when it’s the middle of the night and I’m…” He trails off, not wanting to say what he’s thinking, but he doesn’t have to.

“Awe, Spidey’s lookin’ out for me?” She’s smiling at him again, holding her hands behind her back as she looks up at him.  “You starting to like me?” 

“You’re starting to bother me,” Megumi quips back, but it’s followed by a chuckle he can’t help, and it only seems to endear (y/n) further.  “I don’t usually give people follow up warnings,” He mutters with a shake of his head.  “What’re you doing out this late, anyways?” He asks before he can help it.  “Don’t you have, like, school, or something?” It’s difficult to act like he doesn’t know she spends her nights studying herself to death.

“Maybe I’m going to a party” (y/n) shrugs.

“Tch, no you’re not” 

“How do you know?” 

“Not dressed like that” Megumi comments, making a point to look her up and down.

(y/n) huffs, but there’s no denying the evidence right in front of them both.  She’s wearing leggings that were at least a couple years old, and a large sweatshirt that was teetering the line of well loved and ratty.  

“Okay, well, maybe this time I’m not” She says, and Megumi bites back a smile.  He’s pretty sure that a girl like (y/l/n) (y/n) has never stepped foot in a house party.  And he knows because he hasn’t, either.

“Still not an answer” He reminds her.

“I was going to pick up some energy drinks,” (y/n) finally admits.  “It’s a short walk from my apartment to the corner store, I do it all the time.  Even without Spiderman watching over me” 

He chuckles at that, wondering just how many times she’s made the walk, no matter how short, in the middle of the night.  Couldn’t she just get them before she goes home for the day?

“And you just have to go in the middle of the night?” He scolds her, but she doesn’t seem too affected by it.

“That’s when I need them the most” She replies with a shrug.

“You always drink energy drinks that late?” 

“What, you worried about me or something?” She fires back, a curious look on her face.  “Y’know, I haven’t heard much about you talking to people” 

“I don’t” 

“You’re talking to me” She points out matter of factly, a tone of hers that Megumi was already far too familiar with.

“You’re kind of leaving me no choice” 

(y/n’s) quiet for a moment, and it seems like she’s contemplating something, but whatever it is she doesn’t let him in on, instead smiling and turning her attention to the sidewalk as they walk.

Megumi ducks into the alley next to the convenience store when (y/n) goes in.  He’s unceremonious as he drops himself to the ground, sighing in relief to be off of his feet.  His hand presses into his ribcage at a weak attempt to relieve the pain as he twists to try and find a comfortable position to sit in.  He doesn’t want (y/n) to come back and see him in any sort of pain- it wasn’t a good look for Spiderman to show any sign of weakness.

She’s quick to return, a plastic bag in one hand and a frozen bag of vegetables in the other.  Even behind the mask she must understand that he’s pulling a face at her, because she huffs in annoyance.

“They didn’t have ice” She explains, inviting herself to squat down next to him and offer up the vegetables.

“No no, you’re not sitting here,” Megumi bites back a whine when he sits upright in an attempt to urge her to leave.  “You need to go back home” 

“And miss a personal Q&A with Spiderman?” She replies, a small smile on her face when he finally snatches the vegetables out of her hand.  He grumbles a string of incoherent curses as he rests it over where the bruising feels the worst.

“That’s not happening” He mutters.

“This is why I never hear about you talking to people,” (y/n) sighs.  “You’re boring” 

“I’m not boring,” He argues.  “I just don’t have anything to say” 

“Well, you could start by thanking me for the veggies” (y/n) replies, tilting her head at him.

Megumi glares at her from behind his mask.  He didn’t need to reminder of her insufferable personality.  But… watching her smile so softly at him, like she would love nothing more than a thank you from Spiderman… maybe it’s just because he’s injured, but Megumi caves.

“Thank you” It comes out from behind his teeth, and she must know it, but Megumi swears he sees stars in her eyes.

“You’re welcome, Spiderman,” She murmurs back.

It comes out so genuine, so sweet, that there’s a pang in Megumi’s heart.  He doesn’t think any of the bruising spread so far up his chest, but it must’ve for him to feel such an odd sensation.

“I have to ask… cause I probably won’t see you again…” Her eyes land on the way his hand tenses and presses the frozen vegetables further against himself.  “Why do you do it?” 

When he doesn’t answer, she blinks at him, moving her head just enough to tell him that she really wanted him to say something.

Megumi figures she won’t leave him alone if he doesn’t say anything, so he goes with the truth.

“It’s the right thing to do” 

He shrugs lamely, and it takes a second for her to react at all.  At first it’s a furrow of her brows and a knowing smile, as if he just had to have an answer better than that.  But she didn’t know him as well as she liked to think, because she didn’t know Megumi.  

When he has nothing else to say, her expression slowly softens, and she hums thoughtfully.

“That’s it, huh?” She muses.  “You’re just… a good guy?” 

Just a guy, Megumi mentally corrects.  He might have heightened abilities, and a better sense of right and wrong than those around him, but he’s never considered himself a hero.  Just a guy trying to make things right, trying to keep people safe.

“Guess I try to be” His answer is as lame as his movements.  

If he were a superhero, he’d need some help with PR, but somehow, this makes him all the more special to (y/n).  She brightens, leans in closer and sets her hand over his, where he’s still holding the cold vegetables.

“Can I tell you something, Spiderman?” 

Hasn’t she been talking to him this whole time? If it wouldn’t hurt, Megumi would laugh.  Instead he just nods his head and waits for her to continue.

“I want to be a journalist because of you,” 

What? Megumi’s face warps into shock at the confession.  He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that.  She was on track to be a graduate of the sciences, whichever one she ended up choosing anyways.  He always saw her becoming some wealthy astro-physist or some shit.  She wanted to give up all of her work in those programs to… write? 

“An investigative journalist,” She corrects.  “I want to write about the things that matter, and- and I want to be honest, you know? I want people to read my articles and know they’re being handed the truth.  There’s not a lot of that around these days…” She trails off.  

She didn’t have to tell him about the light Spiderman was painted in.  Let’s just say him and Megumi would share the popularity rankings… except no one was raising pitchforks and torches in Megumi’s direction.

“You want to do that ‘cause of me?” Megumi asks, curiosity getting the best of him.

(y/n) nods, trying to bite back her smile but it was still as clear as day.

“I’ll write my first article about you,” She promises, and Megumi’s eyes widen at her sincerity.  “If you’ll let me” 

“Well you’re not getting an interview” He says, only half joking.  (y/n) laughs quietly.

For a moment, he gets that glimpse into her again.  The same one he felt the night of the convenience store robbery.  There was something in her eye he’d never seen before.  Something soft, and real.  It dawns on him that he very well may be the only person she’s told about this dream of hers.  He wants to ask, but it feels wrong, like he’s prying for something.

“I won’t need one,” She tells him.  “Can’t have the people knowing I know you” 

“You don’t know me” Megumi replies, maybe too quickly, but he can’t help it.  

He tilts his head at her as she gazes at him with too much fondness.  Was his reminder that he’s a stranger to her not enough? Sure, she could trust him because he was Spiderman, her safety wasn’t compromised, but that didn’t mean she needed to go confiding in him like this.

Besides, the look she was giving him was making him feel hot, like he was about to break into a sweat.

“I don’t know…” She murmurs thoughtfully.  “I just have this feeling… like I do” 

That has him leaping into panic mode.  That was it, this was done.  If he saw her again while he was in this suit, he was going to turn and swing the other direction.  She couldn’t be saying things like that, she couldn’t be trying to put the pieces together in her mind.  If she were to figure him out, he’d be done for.  She put a lot of trust in him tonight, but could he trust her for even a minute? Megumi wasn’t sure, and he didn’t care to find out.

As far as he was concerned, this was the last time he was going to talk to her.  He was right to avoid her after the first time- it should have been the last time, but it was too late for that now.

“You should go” He says, pushing himself to stand even through grunts of pain.  She looks at him with worry, brows knitted and lips in a frown as she follows him up to her feet.

“Wait,” 

She calls to stop him, despite having nothing else to say to him.  Well, there were a million things she wanted to say to him, but none of that felt appropriate now.  She didn’t really expect him to stand there and hear her out, but he is, and now her mouth is running dry and she’s standing before him frozen.  He radiates impatience, without having to say a single word.

“I… I didn’t thank you,” She stammers out.  It’s unlike her, but it can’t be helped.  She’s always had a little fan-crush on Spiderman since he made his appearance on the news, but after actually being around him that seemed to blossom into a very real crush, even if she’s never seen his face.  She can feel a blush heating up her face when she speaks.  “For the other night, with- with the robbery,” She clarifies, even though she didn’t have to.  “So… thank you” 

Megumi hesitates a moment longer, almost expecting her to say something else.  She looks like she wants to, her face is growing pink and her hands have begun fiddling with the bag of her energy drinks.  But she remains quiet.

He gives her a nod, before handing over the bag of vegetables.  (y/n) laughs under her breath as she takes it.  It’s lost all of it’s cold, merely a room temperature bag of carrots and peas by now.  She’s not sure what she’s supposed to do with it, but she supposes it wouldn’t look good for Spiderman to swing around with it.

“You’re welcome,” He tells her, and it sounds like the most earnest thing he’s had to say to her.  He’s always come across as blunt, something (y/n) was surprised by when they first met, but now it’s a blessing.  She knows that he means it.  “Get home.  Don’t make me have to tell you again, alright?” 

To Megumi, this is a goodbye.  He doesn’t intend to see her again, not like this.  It was… interesting, while it lasted, but it could never actually last.  It needed to be over before things could get any worse… or she could get any closer to figuring out his identity.

“I’ll try my best, Spiderman” 

It’s the same thing she’d left him with before.  She wonders if he catches it.  With that, Megumi shoots a web and swings off into the night, his black suit blending easily into the night sky.

He did. ___

(y/n) was always punctual, to everything, not just class.  But today she found herself in her favorite seat a whole ten minutes early.  She hadn’t meant to show up before the professor, but she just couldn’t contain her energy today.  She’d woken up before her alarm, got showered, dressed and dolled up in record time, ate a small breakfast on her walk to school, and now here she was.  Full of energy as if it wasn’t eight in the morning.  Call it waking up on the right side of the bed…

… or having an interesting night that she couldn’t get out of her head.

Never in her wildest dreams did she think that she’d run into Spiderman again.  The first time was a little embarrassing, she’d come close to being called a victim, but the second time just happened by chance.  It had her heart racing, her face warming, her lips smiling- hell, she was giddy.

He wasn’t anything like she’d thought he’d be, but that just made him all the more enticing to her.  He was blunt, maybe even a little crass for a masked hero, but every interaction she’d had with him drew her in more.  

She’d meant what she said about getting into journalism, she’d even been looking into transferring her credits next year, even if it meant starting over in a completely new program.  Last night, she’d spent her time in bed staring at the ceiling and replaying events in her mind.  When she wasn’t doing that, she was mentally writing her first article about The Spiderman.

The Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman had a nice ring to it, she thought.  Although she had a feeling that he would laugh at the title of Friendly.  Or maybe roll his eyes.  It was hard to tell with the mask.

Before she knew it, she found herself doodling said mask at the corner of a fresh page in her notebook.  She lifted her pen instantly, surprised at just how zoned out she’d become.  There were never doodles in her notebooks.  They were perfectly kept, clean, organized, conside, and without any extra graffiti.

She supposes this doodle can stay, though… she had done a rather good job at drawing it, it would be a pity if it went to waste…

Students begin to file into the class and setting up their laptops and notebooks at the desks surrounding her.  Without any friends in this class there’s no one for her to talk to, or share the story of her night with.

Then again, she’s not sure she wants to tell anyone about her run in with Spiderman.  She hadn’t mentioned it before… although that was because she didn’t need anyone fussing over her being out so late and putting her safety in jeopardy.  This time was different, but still… 

It felt more special if she kept it to herself.

Today, Megumi comes to class twelve minutes late.  She eyes the clock above the doorway just as he ducks in to check the time, but her eyes just as quickly dart back to his figure.  It’s hard not to, with the dark purple shiner standing out against the pale skin of his face.

Her eyes flit around the room, just to see if anyone else noticed the state of their late arrival, but every other student seemed too wrapped up in the lesson, and their professor was too deep in his lecture to give Megumi the slightest of attention.  To everyone else, Megumi was late as usual.  As (y/n) looked at him again, she had an inkling he was the only one who noticed his black eye.

He knew he was going to draw attention, clearly, seeing as his hoodie was up over his unruly hair and his head was down.  But he must’ve sensed (y/n’s) eyes on him, because when he looked up it was directly at her.

He was moving to the back of the class again, probably to take that corner desk with the graphite engravings all over it.  It would be alarming if she were to say anything to him, although she’s not even sure what she would say.  Asking him if he was alright felt weird, and it’s not like she could just shout ‘what the fuck!?’ in the middle of class.

All she could do was stare at him as he took his seat, pull out his notebook, and begin notetaking as usual, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.  She’s completely turned around in her seat now, still watching him, even though she was missing valuable points of the lesson now.  It was hard to pull her attention away- it was weird that no one else seemed to notice him at all.

Where could he have possibly gotten that from? She frowned, despite Megumi ignoring her completely.  She was sure that she would’ve heard about him getting into another fight on campus- last time she was getting texts about it while she was reading all the tweets about it.  Fights were hot news around here, and if Megumi was involved in a second one, she surely couldn’t have missed it.

Right? 

Finally, his eyes catch hers.  She doesn’t turn away from him like she had in the past, she holds his stare, trying to communicate with him in silence.

It’s obvious to him, she’s looking at him with that same worried face she’d worn last night.  She just didn’t know she was worried about the same person.  He raises his eyebrows at her expectantly, as though asking ‘what?’.  As though nothing were out of the ordinary at all.

Her lips curl into a frown, almost a pout, and Megumi has half a mind to flip her off to get her to leave him alone.  Even in silence, even from opposite sides of the room, she seems to find some way to get under his skin.

He doesn’t, though.  Just holds her stare for a minute longer before putting all of his attention into his notetaking.

Megumi told himself that he was done with her, and he was going to be true to his word.  Whether he was in the suit or not, he couldn’t have anything to do with (y/l/n) (y/n).  Being around her just made things feel… complicated.  He couldn’t pinpoint why, but he didn’t want to.  He just wanted the feeling to go away.

She sits turned around in her seat even once he’s clearly begun to ignore her again.  He can feel her eyes on him, see her watching him out of his peripheral vision as if she was going to figure him out through her stare alone.

He was only pretty sure that she couldn’t.

Eventually she turns around in her seat, but the bouncing of her leg is driving him insane even from across the class.  It was like all he could hear- the faint tap of her shoe tapping the linoleum floor.  It was louder than the lecture, than the squeak of the marker on the whiteboard, or the students smacking their gum or tapping their desks.  His ears focused on it for the remainder of class, effectively ruining his note taking ability.

He’s out of his seat once class is over, snatching his things and not bothering to put them in his bag as he bolts for the door.  There’s an itch in his mind telling him to distance himself from (y/n) as fast as he can.  The inkling was right, because he doesn’t make it far in the hall before his name is being called.

“Fushiguro!” 

A few surrounding students glance in her direction, some even snicker in passing.  Megumi wasn’t someone anyone chased after, and certainly never a girl.  If this were still high school, his sister would ooh and ahh at him before skipping away, plotting to tease him for it later.  But this wasn’t high school, and when he turned around to face (y/n), anyone who was watching made themselves scarce fast.

He doesn’t say anything as she approaches him, the strap of her messenger bag held tight in both hands against her chest.  

She opens her mouth, ready to make a smartass comment, but it comes out awkward, not quite right.

“Late to class again cause of a fight, or something?” Even her scoff comes out wrong, sounding like a nervous laugh, strangled and weird.  She shifts her weight between her feet.

Megumi’s silent for a long few seconds.  Every one that passes feels like eternity, and (y/n) deflates a little more under his stare.

“Sure” He shakes his head, not caring what she wanted to assume about him.  If she wanted to think he was that kind of guy, all the better.  Spiderman didn’t get into fights before going to class, so the further he could separate himself from him in her mind, the better.

She frowns at his answer, and it looks like she’s actually upset when she stares directly at his dark eye.  It looks pretty bad, he knows that.  The swelling he could take care of, but the dark purple was another thing.  Right now though, he’s more concerned about the way she seems to worry.

“Seriously, Fuhiguro,” She says quietly, hoping to get through to him.  

She’s not sure what it is that came over her, but something about seeing him walk into class looking like this made her heart lurch in her chest.

“What happened? Who did that?” 

“I fell,” He says dryly, earning a short glare from her.  He sighs, shutting his eyes to mask his annoyance before it got the best of him.  “Sorry I don’t have an interesting story for you- can I go to class now?” 

“Suddenly Mr Punctual?” She snaps back, crossing her arms over her chest.  Megumi huffs, shakes his head, uncaring toward her attitude.

“Whatever” He starts to turn away, but she catches him off guard when she rushes to block his path again.  

Megumi actually startles when she budges in front of him, having to step back to remove her from his personal space.  His wide eyes land on hers, annoyance furrowing his brows as he stares down at her.  She’s defiantly raising her chin towards him, eyes narrowed and everything.

“I’m actually asking, you know,” She tells him.  “Because no one else is walking around with black eyes-” 

“Who cares?” Megumi tries to step out of her way, but she slides in front of him again.  The traffic in the hallway is thinning, they would both be late for their next class if she kept this up.  “Don’t you have a class to be early for?” He hopes that’s enough to get her to back off.

“I don’t care,” She says with enough assurance that Megumi’s actually surprised.  He figured being late to class would throw her into a full breakdown.  “Why are you being such a dick about this?” 

He scoffs, a bitter smile tugging on his lips, only making him wince as it tears the healing wound.

“Why are you?” He fires back.

“Because,” She says it with such certainty, only to fall short with the rest of her reason.  She didn’t know exactly why she felt like someone needed to check in on him, but she knew that she did, and maybe she was the only one who noticed anything was wrong in the first place.  “Because… because it’s the right thing to do” 

Megumi freezes up at that.  All of his muscles go rigid, his jaw tightens, and his eyes flicker over her features rapidly, trying to find any crack in her sincerity.  Was she seriously throwing his words back at him right now? Just because of a black eye? 

Meanwhile (y/n) feels good about her answer.  She’d picked it up from a man she admired so much and it felt right.  There was no real reason, just a feeling.  She had no idea what emotional turmoil she was putting him through right now.

“(y/n), seriously…” Megumi shakes his head at her.  He steps to the side again, but doesn’t leave right away.  Her eyes follow his, waiting for him to continue.  He hates that she looks so genuinely worried about him.  Hates the way it makes his heart race and his fingers tremble.  He has to force words out of his throat.  “Leave me alone” 

Her face falls, but he’s quick to leave once he says it, and this time, she doesn’t chase after him again. ___

In the rest of their classes, she doesn’t try to talk to him again, and does her best not to look his way.  Megumi’s relieved… he thinks.  It’s for the best that everything returns to normal.  Whatever compelled her to reach out to him today was clearly Spiderman’s doing, and he couldn’t have that.  Things couldn’t change.  His feelings of distaste towards her couldn’t change.  He couldn’t start feeling… differently.

With his hood on and his headphones blasting music enough to drown out the noise of the cafe, Megumi tries to catch up on what he’d missed during his first lecture, which was the entirety of his first lecture.  Luckily his professor tended to drone on word for word from the textbook, and he could catch up by reading.

Unluckily, it doesn’t take much for him to get sidetracked from his studies.  He wants to kick himself when something compels him to look up, only to find (y/n) at Fratboy’s table again.

This again, he tells himself, certain he’ll go right back to his textbook.  But he doesn’t move.  His focus stays entirely on the table of jocks, without a shred of discretion, to make things worse.

“Not today” (y/n’s) saying when he tunes into the conversation.  Does this guy always ask her to sit at his table for lunch? Is he that oblivious? Megumi chews on the inside of his cheek.  You’d think he’d try to avoid the idiot jock stereotype a little better.

“C’mon princess, it’s never ‘today’.  Why don’t you just say yes to ‘tomorrow’, hm?” Fratboy leans out of his seat, reaching his hand out towards her.  (y/n) takes a step backwards, but he’s faster, snatching her by the wrist and pulling her towards the table again.

Megumi bristles, watching the situation with the eyes of a hawk.  If looks could kill, this would’ve been enough to get Fratboy’s hand off of her.  Even if he wasn’t hurting you, it was unwanted, that much was clear just by watching her body language.

“I really don’t feel that way about you,” (y/n) snaps, tugging her arm to get herself out of his grasp.  He doesn’t release right away, and Megumi almost gets to his feet, but with a second tug he lets go of her, and (y/n) takes a large step back, keeping both arms close to her body in case he tries to reach for her again.  “Leave me alone” She barks at him, turning to walk away.

If Fratboy says something else to her, Megumi misses it.  His focus is dialed up to one hundred, and as soon as (y/n) separated herself from him, Megumi hadn’t paid a second glance to Fratboy at all.  He wonders how long she’d felt his watchful eyes before she actually turned towards him.  Her eyes skirt around the cafe for a second, trying to find where the prickling feeling of being watched was coming from, and it doesn’t take long for her to find him.  Her bitter expression softens when she spots him, an odd feeling replacing the discomfort of being talked down to and manhandled.

Maybe because as soon as Fratboy follows her line of sight and sees Megumi’s hard stare set in his direction, he turns towards his table again and quickly engages himself with his friends, not bothering (y/n) with even a second glance.  She watches this unfold, before looking back at Megumi again, curiously.  Despite her being left alone now, he’s still staring at her, maybe waiting to see that she’ll get to her table without being bothered again, she’s not sure.

Either way, she grows still under his direct gaze.  She didn’t know how to describe it, but she’s sure she’s never had anyone look at her like that.  With an otherwise neutral expression, there was so much anger behind Megumi’s eyes that if she didn’t know better, she might be just as afraid as Fratboy.  However something told her not to be, something told her that the anger wasn’t directed towards her.  It takes a great deal of effort for her to turn her back on him and head towards her table, but even as she walks away she can’t help but glance back at him again.  He’s already returned to his book by then, but her intrigue doesn’t end there.  She spends the rest of her lunch in near silence while surrounded by her friends, her thoughts too busy for her to keep up with meaningless chit chat and gossip.

That night (y/n) wanders the sidewalk between her apartment and the convenience store up and down until her feet are too tired to carry her anymore.  She walks the familiar path, back and forth, over and over, between the hours of ten and two, her eyes fixed on the sky, peeking down alleyways, her fingers crossed, her heart racing.  Nothing comes of her walk.  She returns home with a sense of disappointment, and a will to try it again. ___

Megumi’s growing tired of this game of hers.  He’s not sure why she insists on doing this every night, it had been four nights now and she had nothing to show for it, so why was she still out there pacing the sidewalk like a maniac? 

It took all of his energy to patrol the streets and keep an eye on one particular sidewalk- one particular girl.  He was one guy.  Did she really think this was safe for either of them? He very well could be missing a crime happening two blocks over because he’s too busy checking in on where she’s chosen to wander.  Did she really think this was enough to capture his attention? 

Well, it had caught his attention, seeing as every other five minutes he was swinging back in this direction to make sure she was still alive down there.

Was she trying to learn a lesson the hard way? Megumi spent his time watching her with bitterness.  She was smarter than this, he knew it, so what the hell was she thinking?

Deep down he’d already confirmed his worries, but he’d hoped that she’d give this stunt up eventually.  He still saw her around school, even if she’d stopped bothering him, he could see the toll that staying up like this was taking on her.  She always had an energy drink or a coffee on her desk, and Megumi doesn’t think he’s ever seen her look so disheveled.  It had him wondering if this was starting to impact her grades, too.

This is why he shouldn’t have spoken with her the last time.  He should’ve swung off in the opposite direction.  Because now she was on his mind, she had him worrying, swinging all around the block she was pacing while trying to keep an eye on the rest of the city- it was exhausting for him, too.

He shouldn’t be sitting here worrying about her sleep, or her grades.  His bottom line should be safety.  And she was safe.  So why couldn’t he just leave her be? 

With a groan he stops his swinging to land on one of the surrounding buildings.  He rips his mask off his head, groaning through his irritation before raking his hands through his already messy hair.  She was driving him crazy, and he was sure that she knew it too.  This little back and forth walk of hers, she was taunting him with it.  

Throwing himself down to sit on the edge of the building, Megumi peers over his knees to check on her yet again.  She’s slowed her pace, which hopefully means she’s getting tired and will return to her apartment soon.

With a huff, he props his head in his hand, wondering what he was going to do about this.  It wasn’t as easy to make her hate Spiderman as it was to make her hate Megumi.  Hell, it might not be a bad idea to just reveal his identity to her, she’d probably want to forget about Spiderman all together, then.

Of course, that was a stupid idea, but Megumi was fresh out of good ones.

When he lifts his head again, compelled by some invisible force to check just one more time that she was alright, he’d looked just in time.  He barely had the time to pull his mask back on his head before he was leaping off the building and swinging down towards her, half flying and half falling through the air as fast as he could to get to her before whatever figure lurking around the corner could.

Shit, shit, shit.

It happens so fast, she’s lucky she didn’t pee herself from the whole thing.  She’d just reached the end of her pace, about to turn around and wander the other direction when she finally saw a very unsettling figure come around the corner.  With disheveled clothing and a stagger that sent up warning flags of intoxication, (y/n) instantly stopped in her tracks, and started to shuffle backwards.

He never said a word to her, but from looks alone she got the feeling of what he was thinking.  Nothing good.

However before she could get herself to start running, someone else came into view.

There’s barely a second for her to show her relief when Spiderman shows up, seemingly out of nowhere.  She’s not sure his feet even touched the ground before he had an arm around her and was swinging off again.  He doesn’t have to tell her to hold on, she just clings, with all her might, she winds her arms around his neck and keeps her knees locked on either side of his hips.  

The sensation of swinging through the air is not the one she always dreamed of enjoying- the wind is harsh, whipping her hair around all directions and snapping against her face unpleasantly.  Even with her face buried against her savior’s chest, the cold air nips at her.

Even once he’s clearly landed, it takes some prompting for her to let go of him, and open her eyes.

When she does, she barely gets to open her mouth before he’s laying into her, and she should’ve seen it coming, but she can’t help but deflate.

“What the hell were you thinking!?” 

He’s yelling, and at first she wonders if he’s worried about people seeing, but a quick glance at her surroundings and she realizes they’re on the roof of a building.  No one would be hearing them here.

“Were you seriously trying to get yourself into trouble? Because you were about this close to it,” He raises his pinched fingers for emphasis, but gives her no time to answer.  “You better not have done something so stupid just cause of me-” 

“I didn’t- well- well I didn’t necessarily” (y/n) tries to explain, but the words just aren’t coming as fast as her mouth is moving and she’s left gaping at him.  

Megumi was not putting up with it.  What did he have to do to get it through her head? 

“I can’t be spending my nights keeping an eye on just you because you feel like putting yourself in harm’s way for a fucking rush,” He snaps.  “You pull shit like that again (y/n) and I’m not going to be there next time, you understand?” 

Her mouth shuts.  She nods her head.

“Jesus Christ,” Megumi puts his hands to his head, turning and walking off as if they weren’t stranded on top of a building.

Well, (y/n) was stranded.  Spiderman had the means of getting himself anywhere.

She wants to follow him, but instinct tells her to stay put while he paces and continues to scold her.

“You’re goddamn lucky I was there, you know that?” He’s not even looking at her, but she nods her head again anyways.  She knows.  “I should really go back there and beat the shit out of that guy” He starts to mutter to himself, going on incoherently, and (y/n’s) blood starts to run cold.

“He- I mean, he didn’t do anything” She mumbles, her voice hardly above a whisper, but he seems to hear her just fine, stopping in his tracks and turning his head towards her.

“Are you serious?” 

Her mouth opens and closes a few times before any words come out.

“It’s not like he… he said anything, or did anything to me” She clarifies.  Spiderman’s mask is incapable of expression, but she had a feeling the man behind it was glaring at her.  She could feel that familiar prickle of a harsh stare.

It’s silent for a long moment before he finally turns completely towards her and walks back in her direction.  She keeps her feet firmly planted, willing herself not to back away or cower, but having him come stand so close to her had her throat closing up.  He towered over her so much she had to lean her head back to look up at his mask.  If he was going to yell, she was bound to flinch.

“You have no idea what he was capable of doing,” He doesn’t yell.  In fact his voice is so eerily low she almost shivers.  “If you want to gamble your life on some drunken lowlife’s imagination, that’s your business,” He adds, and she blinks away the tears welling up in her eyes as the gravity of the situation really sunk in with his words.  “But at least have the decency to do it far away from me.  Because if it were up to me I’d go back there and kill that guy right now” 

She blinks a few more times, but still, a tear slips down her cheek.

“I-I’m sorry,” She whispers shakily, the lump in her throat growing hotter when she tries to speak.  “I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to- I-” 

Megumi sighs as more tears begin to fall from her eyes.  Her brain was playing catchup and it was clear she was too tired to handle any of this right now.

“It’s alright,” He says, but it’s obviously not enough to calm her down, so against his better judgment, he tries his hand at comforting her.  “Hey, c’mon, you’re alright,” Reaching out to her, he hesitates before placing his hands on either side of he face, wiping her tears away on the soft material of gloves.  “Breathe,” He instructs quietly, and waits as her shudders slowly morph into slow, heavy breaths.  “There you go, that’s it.  You’re alright,” He tries to remind her that where she is now, she’s safe.  “You’re here” 

It takes a few more deep breaths, but eventually he steers her clear of a full blown panic attack, and her heartbeat returns to a normal pace.

With one last deep breath, (y/n) closes her eyes on her exhale, and Megumi finally drops his hands from her head, sure that she isn't going to start back up again.

“I have trouble sleeping,” She tells him quietly, her eyes focused on the ground.  “It started in high school, I uh… I’m kind of a nerd, I guess,” She admits.  “My parents really cared about my grades and success and I guess I just… went with it.  Started staying up through the night to study and get ahead the rest of my class and… never dropped the habit” 

Megumi softens, although she’d never know it.

“That doesn’t sound so healthy,” He says quietly, not knowing what else to say.  She scoffs, smiles bitterly, shakes her head back at him.  “We should get you back home, yeah?” 

Realizing what he meant, she looks back at him with a wince, and he can’t help the small chuckle at her reaction.

“It’ll be alright.  I’ll take it easy, promise” He says, crossing his finger over his chest for emphasis.

“What, like I’m gonna find some way to sue Spiderman?” She mutters back.

He holds his arms out to her, carefully grabbing her by the forearms to loop them around his neck.

“Just hold on and keep your head down, it’ll be over before you know it” 

Her face heats up when his arm comes around her back and he presses her even closer.  She can’t stop her squeak of surprise before it comes out, and it must startle him, because he’s quick to ask her if she’s okay.

“Yeah I- I’m fine” She stammers back, feeling her blush grow hotter.

Megumi takes off without a warning, thinking it’ll be easier to rip it off like a bandaid than to count down before a jump.  All of her limbs tighten around him, forgetting about modesty as soon as they’re in the air.  She presses her face as far into his shoulder as she can to keep herself blinded from the surrounding area.  Until now, she wouldn’t have said she was afraid of heights.

She’s at least able to give him her address, a shaky whisper in his ear before she’s buried into his shoulder again.

When he lands on her fire escape, he helps her to her feet, trying not to chuckle at how wobbly she is.

“Don’t get sick on the suit, you have no idea how much of a pain it is to dry clean this thing” He tries to lighten the mood, and is surprised that he’s successful in doing so, earning a small laugh from her.

“You say that to all the girls you swing home, Spidey?” 

“Not a fan of the nickname.  Or the insinuation” He’s back to his usual dry self in no time.

“Well you have to have a nickname, we’re friends now, aren’t we?” 

He’s supposed to leave now.  He should leave now.  This was exactly what he was afraid of happening, her getting attached.  That burden was only on her of course, there wasn’t a chance Megumi was going to get drawn in when it comes to her, not when he knew the consequences.

“Spideman already is a nickname” He mutters like it’s obvious.  

(y/n) let’s out a breathless laugh, and tosses her messy windswept hair behind her shoulders.  

Megumi hasn’t left yet, why isn’t he leaving? 

“Well, then there must be some other name I could call you..?” She trails off with her question, stepping forward and eyeing him curiously.  

Megumi’s frozen.  Was she really suggesting he reveal himself to her? Obviously he couldn’t do that…

“I’d just like to thank you, again,” She says, a small smile on her lips as she takes another step forward.  

If he’s not leaving, Megumi knows he most definitely needed to step away from her before she could press any closer.  Carrying her to swing her home was one thing, that was closeness out of necessity, but this- this was too much, and he was freezing up.

“And, um, properly,” She adds in a soft murmur, her eyes flickering over his mask.  

He briefly wonders what she’s looking for, but it’s quickly answered when she reaches up towards him, her fingers brushing the space between his mask and the rest of the suit.  It’s fitted so well it’s nearly impossible for someone to find the disconnect between the two- unless of course you’re standing directly in front of him, which she was.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word, but the gulp he swallows is visible to her with how close she is.  The tips of her fingers barely slip under the material of his mask, they graze his skin in a touch featherlight yet searing hot.

Without any indication from him that she should stop, curiosity gets the best of her and she carefully begins to slide the mask upwards, her eyes excitedly watching the expanse of his now exposed neck.  Almost as pale as the moonlight, she drank up the sight of his skin as if it was a completely new sight to her.

When she gets to his chin, his hand snatches her wrist.  It’s a quick action, but surprisingly gentle.  He barely grips her arm, his touch merely a warning.

“You shouldn’t” He says, the lump in his bobbing throat preventing him from saying anything more.

She looks up into the expanse of white that made for the compelling eyes of the mask.  Wondering if she was making proper eye contact with him, she shakes her head reassuringly.

“I won’t go too much further,” She murmurs.  Followed by an even softer, “Promise” 

His better judgment clean out the window, Megumi lets go of her hand, and allows her to proceed.

Using both hands now, she bunched up the end of the material until she was able to gather it at his nose where it would stay put, leaving everything from his neck to the tip of his nose on display for her.

She smiles at him, almost knowingly, and it makes him nervous.  Everything about this makes him nervous, this cold sweat she was putting him through was torture.  Even more so when her fingers begin to softly trace over the exposed parts of his skin.

“I knew you were handsome” She whispers shyly, but her eyes glimmer with excitement.

Megumi chuckles, the corners of his lips barely quirking into a smile, prompting her to hover the pad of her thumb over them as well.  She doesn’t quite touch his lips, too cautious of the healing cut over the bottom one.

“How could you know such a thing?” He mumbles, keeping his voice low out of worry that she’d recognize it without the muffle of his mask.

“I don’t know,” She giggles softly.  “Your voice, maybe.  And you’re tall” 

“I don’t think you have very good standards” Megumi murmurs.

“I think it’s completely fair for a girl to have a little crush on the man who saved her,” She replies, face warming up from such a confession.  To her delight, it gets another smile out of him.  “Who knew you smiled so much under there?” She says before she could think twice about it.  “I was starting to think you were that stoic, mysterious type” 

“I could be” He mumbles, and he finds himself taking her hand before she could finally touch her fingers to his lips.  

She’s more than enticed to, with how pink and alluring they were, she’d been dying to kiss them since she’d lifted his mask, and hoped he’d give her the chance, seeing as he hadn’t tried to cover the bottom half of his face just yet.

She’s never looked at him like this before.  And to be fair, Megumi had never looked at her like this either.  He’d had no idea how pretty she was, like this, with her eyes half lidded and half focused, staring intently at his lips, giving away all of her thoughts without having to voice them.  Her long lashes seemed to grow heavier with every slow blink.  She’s hardly looking up at him now, all of her attention on just one thing, and Megumi was starting to run out of reasons why he shouldn’t indulge her.

The hand that he’s not keeping away from him reaches out again, fingers skimming his jaw before curling around it with the softest touch.  She doesn’t pull him with much force, but Megumi finds himself following her movements as she guides him down, closer to her height.

It wasn’t right to kiss her.  It was actually the exact opposite of what he’d been trying to do here.  How the hell did he wind up in this situation? 

“Thank you, Spiderman” She whispers, her lips ghosting over his with every syllable.

Ah, fuck it.

His hand releases hers only to reach for the back of her head and pull her in the rest of the way, his lips capturing hers passionately.  Not expecting him to make the first move, she’s delayed in reacting, her hands sliding around the back of his neck and kissing him back with just as much fervor.

So lost in the kiss and how softly his lips move over hers, she almost forgets about the minor detail that his identity is still a secret to her, but even if it crosses her mind, she doesn’t care.

Her fingers press into the small strip of skin exposed at the nape of his neck, and while she longs to dig them under the back of his mask and lift it off of his head, it's not out of a desire to expose his identity.  It’s purely because she’d love to run her hands through his hair, followed by a curiosity of what that would feel like.

Was his hair long? Soft? Coarse? Was it shaggy? Was it shaved? The mystery of it all had her mind buzzing and her feet pushing her to the tips of her toes to meet his lips in one last kiss before he could pull away.

The final kiss is softer than the rest, so gentle and slow, it was the perfect first, and last, kiss.

Not that she could tell the difference, but Megumi had a hard time opening his eyes again when he pulled away.  He didn’t move far, his hand still cupped around the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hair.  A part of him hoped they’d be so knotted together that they wouldn’t ever have to leave this moment.

When he does find the courage to look at her, he’s mentally kicking himself.

Megumi’s sure that the reason the sky was so dull tonight was because all the stars were trapped in her eyes, now being gifted to him under her precious gaze.  Her lips curled into a slightly swollen smile, her cheeks pink with color despite the sun being nowhere in sight, it was perfect, she was perfect, and he can’t believe he’s spent so long missing out on it.

Shit, shit, shit.

“You…” He starts, but he doesn’t know where he’s going.  His head is in the clouds, beyond the clouds, he was completely unreachable.  (y/n) giggles softly at how quickly he’d become tongue tied.  “You should pursue the journalist thing, alright?” 

Brows slightly drawn together from the seemingly random comment, she nods back at him in a small motion.

“You think?” She murmurs back, her hand squeezing his.  It sends a wave of warmth through his arm and into his chest, and Megumi has to fight the urge to frown, because his mouth was still exposed.

Pulling his hand from hers, he touches it gently to her jaw, then her cheek.  She leans into his touch, welcoming it completely.  Her smile only grows upon feeling the warmth of his palm through his glove.

“I have a feeling that you’d succeed at anything you put your mind to,” He says, and it’s sort of cheesy, but it’s the absolute truth.  Her lips part in surprise at the sudden seriousness in his tone, but she doesn’t say anything, just lets his words linger on her mind.  “No more middle of the night walks, though, alright?” He says, shaking her head just a tiny bit to make sure it would get through her thick skull.  “If you can’t sleep, just put something on tv, like a normal person” 

Her hand raises to cover the back of his, cradling it against her face sweetly.  Megumi thinks the sight will be ingrained in his memory for the rest of time.

“Then how will I see you again?” She says, only half teasing.  Her eyes are wide and hopeful, and Megumi stalls by brushing his thumb over her cheekbone a few times.

“I’ll be around” He murmurs, nodding his head through his uncertainty.  Was it a good idea to see her again? 

(y/n) nods back at him, before letting his hand go and reaching for the bunched up material of his mask, pulling it back over his face.

It was hardly a good idea to see her this time, and she’d actually needed his help.  Look where that had lead him.

“I hope so,” She mumbles, seemingly just as uncertain as he was.

He finally drops his hand from her head, fingers carefully detangling themselves from her hair so as not to irritate her head, or maybe he just needed to linger near her a little longer.

Who was he kidding.  He was going to find himself in this position sooner or later, wasn’t he?

“I guess… you know where to find me,” She says, wrapping her arms around herself, even though it was a nice night with no breeze.  She squeezes herself for comfort.

When did it start, exactly? Was it the little secrets she confided in? Or her worry when he’d shown up to class a few days ago with a black eye? Megumi struggled to pinpoint when things took a turn down the path of no return.

“If you change your mind on that interview…” She adds with a soft smile.  She hopes he’s smiling back at her.  

He is.

“I’ll know where to find you,” He repeats, hoisting himself onto the railing of her fire escape, and standing up on the thin bar with complete balance.  He made it look easy.  “Goodnight, (y/n)” 

“Goodnight, Spiderman” 

He took off then, completely silent as he leapt from the escape and swung off, nearly invisible in the darkness.

(y/n) couldn’t help but sit outside her window a little longer, replaying the events of her night yet again, and wondering just how he figured out her name. ___

Megumi had resigned to sitting in the back of all of his classes for the rest of the year.

It’s not a huge deal, he can learn fine from any seat in the class, and as he realizes this he comes to realize that there was never really a good reason why he chose to sit near (y/n) before.  All of his complaints that she was an obnoxious bother had dissolved into… nothing.  He chose to sit near her every day.  Whether it was right behind her or two seats away, he couldn’t ignore the fact that he always chose to be near.

And now that he wasn’t, it was driving him crazy.  He longed to be closer, to sit behind her again, maybe even right next to her.  Had he really been so dense all this time? 

Though their interactions had been swindling since he’d put more focus into Spiderman than he had in school, (y/n) hadn’t spoken a word to him since their argument in the hall, and that was almost two weeks ago now.  

The last thing she’d said to him, she’d said to Spiderman, not Megumi.  Still, he tries to keep the soft, precious way she’d bid him goodnight in his memory.  He didn’t want to forget a single moment of the last time he’d spoken with her, not the things she said, not the way she touched his skin so delicately, and certainly not the kiss.

Megumi leans his chin into his hand now, fingers covering his mouth nonchalantly.  However when he presses the pads of his fingertips against his lips, it’s not the same.

They caught eyes here and there, but that wasn’t the same either.  He’d come into class late, she’d cast him a short glance, but it was always quickly returned to the front of the room.  Not so much as a taunting glare was directed his way.  It was safe to say he’d finally gotten her off his back… and he’s never felt like such an idiot.

It was worse outside of classes.

He’d spend his nights swinging around town, lazing through patrol, busting perps when they came around, but crime was dwindling by the day, it seemed.  He liked to think that Spiderman was making a difference, but he’d been a little rough around the edges lately, and he knew deep down his reputation was morphing into a ruthless fighter.  

Spiderman wasn’t just keeping peace, he was keeping criminals in fear.  Not that Megumi was perturbed by this- for one, he’d long held that reputation already, so living with it as Spiderman felt no different.  Secondly, the quiet nights were comforting.

The free time was starting to become a problem, though.  He couldn’t stop himself from trying to visit her.  He’d be aimlessly swinging and the next thing he knew he was on her block, near her building, almost approaching the very fire escape at her window where they’d last seen each other.  It’s difficult to make himself turn around and swing the other way, especially on the clear nights when he can see her light is on, and he knows she’s awake.

She’d kept her promise, it seemed.  He’d swing by often enough to notice the flicker of a tv screen, just close enough to know she was home and safe, but he tried not to linger too long.  He didn’t want her seeing him checking in, and he definitely didn’t like the idea of sitting outside her window like a creep.

More than that, he feared that she’d be delighted to see him again.

It had been a week since that night on her fire escape- with the rescue, the kiss- and Megumi really tried to keep his distance.  He indulged himself in passing by her window more times than he could count, but he was careful to keep himself hidden, so she would have no idea his watchful eye was never too far.  If he kept this up, he hoped that she would forget about it altogether.  That’s what would be for the best.

Sitting across the street perched on the roof of a building like it was the most natural place in the world to sit, Megumi dropped his chin in his hand as he stared longingly at the only lit up window in the apartment building across the street.  At this point, he’d probably spent more time looking at that window than he had in his own home.

He didn’t want to forget about what happened.  He didn’t want her to forget about what happened.

His mask crumpled in his other hand, he tore his gaze away from the window to stare down at it, cursing it mentally for giving him everything only to ruin it.

It wasn’t Spiderman’s fault, though.  Megumi was just as much responsible for the rift he’d put between himself and (y/n), long before that damned spider bite.  He’d always pushed her off, kept her at arm’s length or further, if he could help it.  He was the one stubborn enough to never let anyone in.  He was the one that pushed her into treating him with the same insufferable attitude he’d directed at her, way back then.  So much could change within a year, he supposed that was true for everyone, but he couldn’t ward off the self pity that came over him, thinking he’d surely changed too much within a year.

At the feeling of the first raindrop hitting his exposed head, he sighed, running a hand through his hair to dry the following drops of water before pulling his mask over his head again.  Of course it’s going to start raining on him when he’s sitting here feeling bad about himself.

He doesn’t intend to get any closer to her building, being right across the street already felt too close, but with the extra cover of the rain starting to pick up, Megumi thought maybe tonight he could get away with being just a little closer.  Just close enough to make sure she was okay in there.  He might not be able to do anything about her sleepless nights… but it couldn’t hurt to check, right? He would leave as soon as he was sure, and then he would try not to return.

He’s not stupid enough to climb directly onto her fire escape- but then again his being here was pretty stupid already so what was one more idiot move? Instead Megumi perches himself on the one above it, opting to hang over the bottom of it just enough that he could peek through the window.

To his surprise, even though her tv is on along with the rest of the lights in her room, (y/n) is nowhere in sight.  He doesn’t think much of this at first, she very well could be in the bathroom, or the kitchen.  But just as he tries to rationalize her disappearance, the hair on the back of his neck stands up, and in the next second her window was sliding open.

“Boo!” 

Her whisper yell as she leans out the window and towards his dangling head is comparable to that of a child’s.  Completely un-scary, and followed by a string of delighted giggles.

Megumi freezes, and he would’ve fallen right off the fire escape if his reflexes didn’t have him shooting out a web of safety to hang by.  He’s still upside down, swinging in front of her, but (y/n) leans out further to steady his movement by his shoulders.

“Scared ya good, huh?” She muses.  Her grin was a sight for sore eyes.  “Serves you right, stalking a girl like that” 

“I wouldn’t call it stalking” 

“What would you call it then?” 

Her hands are still pressed against his shoulders.  Megumi’s not sure if it’s to keep him from swinging, or if she was keeping her own balance as she leaned the upper half of her body out her window.

“... is it a crime to visit people?” 

“Usually when they’re trying to creep in through a window” She quips back.  Her smile only seems to brighten the longer she looks at him- even if she did sort of just call him a creep.

“For the record I wasn’t trying to get in” He corrects, his own smile beginning to grow under his mask.  He couldn’t deny how good it felt to see her like this again, to be able to talk to her, even just look at her.

“Just spy from the outside?” 

“I don’t like the narrative you’re spinning,” Megumi scoffs.  “What happened to honest journalism, hm?” 

She giggles at that.  The corners of her eyes crinkle as she gazes at him fondly.  He liked this side of her banter- the playful side.  It was fun.

“So you think you can honestly say you missed me, Spidey?” She asks in a voice made of pure sugar.  It rots his teeth, melts his insides, and makes all his senses go fuzzy.

“I thought we weren’t going the nickname route” He deadpans, avoiding the question.

With her smile pursing to the corner of her lips, something about her demeanor changed then.

“It’s only fair, since you know my name,” Her tone is just as light, but her eyes are calculating, and Megumi knows he’s slipped up.  And again just now, by not having a quick enough response.  “And I’m certain I didn’t give it to you… so… how do you explain that one?”

“Did you think I wasn’t going to have an interest in figuring that out?” Megumi chuckles, hoping he could play it off.

(y/n) presses further out her window, far enough now that the rain starts to dampen her hair, but she appears to pay it no mind.

“I don’t like it when you’re cryptic, Spidey” She huffs.

Again, Megumi laughs.

“It sort of comes with the whole anonymity thing” He answers.

She tilts her head at him, as if she could study him even with the mask on.  Megumi couldn’t deny the paralyzing effect it had on him.

“Why does it feel like you’re a stranger to me… but I’m not one to you?” She asks him slowly, as though still debating on asking him at all.  “Why does it feel like you know me?” 

“You do talk a lot” 

Megumi’s grasping at straws now, but at least that gets a small laugh out of her.  He hopes it’s enough of a distraction, hopes that she lets things go back to the way they were.  He didn’t need her trying to put together the puzzle that was Spiderman, it couldn’t lead to anything good.

“You know what I mean,” She murmurs.  She raises a hand off of his shoulder, reaching for the hem of his mask in a way that wasn’t supposed to feel familiar to him.  “You think you’d ever tell me?” She asks as her fingers toy with the material’s edge.

“Who I am?” Megumi asks dumbly.  Besides the raindrops slowly running down her face, there’s no change in her expression.  There’s a glimmer of hope in her eye as her fingers slip under the mask, not quite lifting it yet, but holding it with the clear intention to do so.

The silence lingers until she has her answer, and Megumi thinks this might be the damning moment that he’s been trying to brace himself for.  She’ll probably rip his mask right off, and then who knows how she’d react upon seeing it was him all this time.  He knew he was faster than her, he could easily swing away before she could have the chance.

A nervous, breathless laugh breaks tension, and she gently peels the mask towards his chin.

“I guess I’ll just have to figure it out on my own, then” She muses playfully.

“An investigative journalist now, are we?” Megumi asks, but there’s no time for further banter when she’s got his mask bunched up at his nose and that’s all the further it needs to go before he’s meeting her lips in a wet kiss.

The rain was not a welcomed experience, it had (y/n) shivering and it was irritating Megumi’s now exposed nose.  It made their kiss slippery and messy, and with him still being upside down it didn’t exactly make things any easier.

Neither of them cared.

All of (y/n’s) interests lied in kissing him and then kissing him again- she couldn’t help it, even if he outright refused to tell her his name, he kissed her like a dream.

Shaky, wet palms steadied on either side of his face, trying to pull him even closer.  He follows her direction as best he can, but with his hands still occupied with the web to keep him from crashing onto her fire escape, Megumi’s left with his neck craned as far forward as he could push.  If he hadn’t held onto the last scrap of his sanity he would’ve dropped down from the railing and crawled right through her window.

He was getting carried away.

“(y)- (y/n)-” Her name is whispered soft and broken into her lips, and she knows this is his way of ending whatever this is, but she can’t help but leave him with one last lingering kiss.  He doesn’t push her away, doesn’t even go still against her kiss.  He waits, all too patiently, until she has to lean back and catch her breath.

“You’re going to leave,” She says softly.  It’s not a question, she already knows.  He might think that he’s difficult to read, with his monotone comments and the mask that’s easy to hide behind, but he wasn’t as great of a mystery as he might think.

He frowns.  It looks a little awkward upside down.  (y/n) gives him a sad smile and carefully maneuvers his mask back into place.  It doesn’t take long before she misses the small glimpse of his face that she was allowed to see.

“Why do I get the feeling that I’m not going to see you again?” She sighs.

The raindrops on her face could easily be mistaken for tears.  Megumi slides his hand out of her hair to dry her face, and he can’t keep away the memory of him drying her actual tears.

“You will,” He assures her, but the nagging feeling doesn’t quite go away.  “You just… might not know it” 

A lump forms in Megumi’s throat when he says it, and it only grows when her eyes light up with intrigue.

“Is that a hint, Spiderman?” She muses, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Get some sleep” He encourages, already lifting himself onto the fire escape of her upstairs neighbor.  Disobediently, she pushes herself further out her window to follow his movements. 

“I will see you again?” She asks as she looks up at him, not minding the pelting of raindrops soaking through her clothes and hair.

Against his better judgment- as things always seem to be when it comes to her- Megumi nods his head.  He doesn’t say a word before swinging away, knowing he’d overstayed his welcome by a longshot.  Even without looking back, he can feel (y/n’s) eyes on him as she watches from her window.

And when he thinks about it, he can still feel her lips against his. ___

(y/n’s) not sure of the last time she walked into her 8am class and saw Megumi had gotten there before her.  It stops her in her tracks, still in the doorway, staring at the boy hunched over his desk in the back of the class scribbling in his notebook at an alarming rate.

Wait… was he cram studying for their test today? 

She scoffs, and he lifts his head to give her a bored glare.  Of course he’d noticed her when she’d come in- he’d heard her coming from the hallway- but he wasn’t about to give her the reaction she wanted.

And it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his expression hardened and neutral when it came to her, so Megumi had been trying to avoid looking at her completely.

Keyword, trying.

“Don’t tell me you actually didn’t study” She says, a knowing little grin tugging at the corners of her lips as she looks him up and down.

Megumi holds his blank stare for as much longer as he’s capable of before turning his attention back to his notebook, pen scrawling loudly yet again.  (y/n’s) brows raise at the intensity at which he was writing, shocked that her assumptions seemed to be proven correct.

“Wow” She mumbles to herself, before walking straight to the back of the class.  

Megumi tries to ignore her, she probably just wanted to click her tongue at him in disapproval before she’d go pick out her favorite seat and ignore him for the rest of the period.  But she’s approaching so quickly and suddenly she’s leaning over his desk and he has half a mind to cover his work, as if there was any kind of damning evidence there.

She eyes the messy notes before glancing up at him, his gaze already set on her.  For a moment it pins her in place, has her freezing up just as she had a moment ago, but the feeling melts before she could question the severity in his eyes.

“If you want to borrow my notes, you’ll have to ask” He tells her, his voice unwavering and devoid of any emotion.  She rolls her eyes at the typical behavior.

“Unlike you, I cared enough to study last night” She replies, and she’s just about to turn on her heel when the unexpected happens, and Megumi actually has a response.

“That so?” 

His change in tone irks her, and she can’t put her finger on why.  But the tilt of intrigue matched with the way he smirks has her heating up.

Out of irritation, of course.

“Duh,” Her arms cross over her chest defensively.  “I’ve been studying all week” 

Even as Megumi resumes his note taking, his stupid smirk is still plastered on his face.  If she was more inclined to violence, (y/n) would’ve wanted to smack it right off.

“I’m sure you have” He mumbles, watching out of his peripheral vision as her arms shoot down to her sides, hands balled into fists as she gasps and gapes at him.  Clearly, she took offense to the comment, and he had to bite back the chuckle at it.

“What are you trying to say?” She snaps at him, but she’s not nearly as intimidating as she wants to be.

“Didn’t really say anything,” He replies, tone holding no emotion again.  “You just started freaking out” 

“I’m not freaking out,” Her eyes narrowed.  “God, why do you have to be so-” 

Before she can finish he looks up at her again, and again it’s like he’s stunned her with the way his gaze seems to pierce right through her.  He looks pleased with himself, too, as if he was just dying to hear what she was going to come up with.

Peculiarly enough, her throat goes dry, and she can’t quite remember how she was going to finish that sentence.  Megumi must figure her out, too, because his smirk almost resembles a smile now, and her heated skin was starting to become unbearable.

“So…?” Megumi repeats curiously, hoping to egg her into finishing her thought.

(y/n) huffs, shaking her head in her agitated defeat before turning around and marching towards her usual seat.

Megumi returns to his work with a smile on his face.  Her preference for Spiderman might’ve been clear as day, but there was something satisfying about knowing one way or another, he had a knack for getting her worked up.z

___

Despite her hopes reaching impossible heights, (y/n) hadn’t gotten another visit from Spiderman in quite some time.  It had been about two weeks now, and she hadn’t noticed even a shadow outside her bedroom window.

She gives him the benefit of the doubt, because for some reason unknown to her she’d grown to care for him enough to make every excuse necessary.  He was doing important work out there, she’d tell herself while sitting at her window, longing eyes looking for any sign of life out in the sleeping city.  It wasn’t like he had all the time in the world to spend on her.

Or while wandering the halls from class to class, while her eyes were trying to catch every stranger that walked passed, she hoped to find some flicker of familiarity in anyone.  It might’ve been naive of her to think he could be as close to her as being another student at her school, but she couldn’t help herself.  She couldn’t stop the ‘what ifs’ from plaguing her mind.  She was so full of hope it was rotting her from the inside out.

Her focus was never quite all there.  In class she’d mindlessly take notes, her attention shifting about the room, trying to catch the feeling of being watched, but she always came up empty handed.  There were no eyes on her, she concluded after days of paranoid searching.  It was just a placebo effect her mind had come up with in her hoping to find him.

As if she was just going to happen upon him as easily as looking at him and knowing.

It was the same even around her friends.  The usual group she’d sit with at lunch had noticed her change in demeanor, but not knowing how to bring it up to her they tended to continue on conversing as if she wasn’t actively ignoring them as she searched the cafe.

“What are you looking for?” One of them had asked one day, a slight wince on their face when she startled and turned towards them again, as if she’d completely forgotten where she was.

“Oh, nothing,” Her reply was less than convincing.  “Just spacing, I guess” 

Maybe that part was sort of true, but it wasn’t a good enough excuse for anyone to take her seriously anyways.  So she was left alone to barely pick at her lunch and scan the cafe with an undeniable skip in her heartbeat.

(y/n) was starting to think she was going crazy, but it was like an itch she couldn’t scratch.  She just had a feeling that she was close, and to stop her from chasing that feeling would take a force her lunchtime friends weren’t able to muster up.

Her grades had yet to be affected, but her uptick in strange behavior wasn’t going unnoticed.  Her participation had dipped dramatically, some of her classes actually dragging on in near silence as no other students filled the gaps of her incessant questions and comments.  It was clear to her professors and peers that behind her wandering eyes was a void of class-related thoughts.  Whatever was occupying her every passing minute, had nothing to do with her studies.  But she maintained her perfect grade point average so effortlessly it was difficult to reprimand her for her lack of attention in each class.

Megumi had watched from the background as her sanity seemed to slip further and further.  At first, it had been a bit amusing.  He’d noticed right away, the way her eyes caught every guy walking into class, the way she seemed to pick each one apart with only her eyes.  She must have been gauging whether or not she deemed every one of them capable of being Spiderman.  It was hard not to smile to himself when she’d ultimately look away from each one, unconvinced.  

One was too short, the next too tan, another just didn’t have the right vibe, Megumi wished he could read her thoughts as she scrutinized each passerby in silence.  He was never too far from her, so it was easy to watch the hope radiating off of her as she tried to find the source of the eyes on her.  Luckily for Megumi’s rapid senses, he was always facing another direction when her gaze flickered his way.  Not that she ever quite looked at him the way she looked at the others.  He could feel her eyes sweeping right past him, pausing on a boy sitting just a few seats to his left instead.  But yet again she was facing away and trying to come up with someone else.

Megumi wondered why it was that she felt so sure Spiderman was in this very school with her.  Tokyo was a heavily populated place, and he knew she was smarter than to assume he was this close to her all this time.

(Of course… he was… but how could she have any idea of that?) 

With every passing day she seemed a little more dazed.  Which was an interesting look on a know-it-all like her.  Her interest in the world around her took a nosedive, and it was obvious to a watcher like Megumi.  She looked like a gray spot surrounded by the bright yellow of her lunch table.  She stuck out like a sore thumb in every class, finally having learned to pipe down and retreat in on herself.  She didn’t look depressed, it was just clear as day that her interests were on anything but what was going on around her.

Again, he’s entertained by this for some time.  There’s a swell of pride and something warm and new in his chest whenever he sees her so openly looking for him.  Hopeful eyes scanning every crowd, every class, only to never properly focus on him.  He should feel relief that he doesn’t seem to be even a passing possibility to her.  Instead, all he feels is a few skips in his heartbeat knowing she thought he was someone worth searching for.

Well, Spiderman was someone worth searching for, at least.

But the entertainment drains fast when her preoccupied mind lands her crashing into someone in the cafe.�� A freezing cold iced coffee is dumped all over the front of her pretty blouse, ruining it instantaneously.  Megumi happens to look up just as the incident takes place, the hair on the back of his neck standing up on alert and his eyes finding her in the crowd in a moment’s notice, just in time to watch her crash.

And just as she steps away from the person she’s crashed into, her focus shifted to her soaked and stained shirt, an unsettled feeling crawls over Megumi’s skin as he notices who it was she just so happened to run into.

The frat boy that had been bugging her not too long ago.  The annoying guy, yeah, that one.  Megumi was pretty damn sure this run in wasn’t as accidental as it looked, but he stayed seated at his empty table, with faux attention on the book in his hand.

His eyes hadn’t returned to the page since his little sixth sense had drawn them towards the whole situation.  It’s upsetting that he isn’t surprised to see that when (y/n) hurries out of the cafe, Fratboy follows.

He huffs, shutting his book without marking it and tossing it haphazardly into his bag.  He hadn’t even gotten to finish his lunch.  Maybe he could sneak a few bites in his next class.

(y/n’s) trying not to tear up as she rushes into the empty corridor outside of the cafe.  It wasn’t like her to cry over a stained shirt, but it was just so embarrassing to have to go the rest of her day with the obvious mark.  Not to mention it was cold and wet and sticking to her skin and- jesus, of course it was soaked through enough that the black bra she wore was visible now.  

Even as she pried the material forward off of her skin, she could still feel the sticky remnants of coffee underneath.  It wasn’t like she had a spare outfit in her car, and she still had three classes left in her day.  Was she really stuck in this wet shirt until then? 

“Sorry princess, it was an accident, swear!” 

And to make matters worse, it appears she’d been followed.

(y/n) can’t help the groan of frustration as she releases the material of her shirt, letting it stick to her torso again.

“It’s… it’s fine, it’s whatever” She grumbles, waving off the guy she recognized as the cafe bother, or so she coined in her mind, never having gotten his name during all the times he’d hit on her.  There’s not much sincerity in her words, but she doesn’t need him lingering around while she tries to decide what to do.

“I did try to dodge ya, but you really weren’t looking where you were going,” He continues, despite her obvious disinterest in his entire presence.  “Is there anything I can do?” 

He comes closer and on instinct she backs away.  Her expression alarmed and eyes cautious when he pressed closer anyways.  It’s not that she thinks he’s going to hurt her, but she doesn’t want him any closer than arms’ length.  Ten feet would be nice, but unless she wanted to draw more attention to herself by turning and booking it down the hall, arms’ length would have to do.

“No” She answers, as firm as she can get herself to be.  To her, this is the part where he should walk away.

He looks apologetic as he steps forward again, but this time her step backward has her almost up against a wall, and now her senses are on high alert.  Discomfort courses through her, a feeling worse than the cold coffee sticking to her skin.

“C’mon, I could at least help you get out of your-” 

Fratboy doesn’t get a chance to finish his statement when a harsh grip lands on his shoulder and pries his body to move with ease.  His initial reaction is to fight back against the force, but he doesn’t get to do that either, as he’s spun around and shoved into the wall.

Even the snarl on his expression disappears when it’s Fushiguro Megumi that presses in close and keeps him pinned to the wall.  His bruising grip is replaced by his entire forearm caged against his collarbone, just barely pressing against his throat.

A yelp dies in the back of (y/n’s) throat as the whole thing happens in a matter of seconds.  It’s as if she blinks and suddenly Megumi’s there prying this guy out of her personal space as if he was personally offended by the act.

“H-hey man, what the hell is your problem?” The waver in Fratboy’s voice is embarrassingly clear.  Megumi would laugh if he was in a joking mood.  He’s not.

His hard expression is terrifying up close.  (y/n’s) standing just a few feet away and even she feels a slight shiver go down her spine.

“Pricks like you,” Megumi mutters, and Fratboy swallows a fat lump in his throat.  “Skipping around like you’re hot shit and get to have anything you want.  Pretentious pricks” He spits the last part out through clenched teeth.

All (y/n) can think about were the rumors from last year.  The guy Megumi supposedly put in the hospital.  Those rumors had been enough to have people steer clear from him.  She didn’t even let herself get too close when pressing his buttons, even if intrigue plagued her mind.

“I didn’t- I didn’t do anything!” Fratboy tries to raise his voice, a pitiful attempt at puffing his chest and making him appear more of a fighter than he really was.  His head swivels, wide eyes landing on (y/n), who was stuck frozen watching it all unfold.  “Tell him!” He shouts at her, and she startles just a little.  Not because she was afraid of the demand, but because as soon as it came out of his mouth, Megumi’s foot brought enough force to have the guy’s legs straighten up, which in turn kept him further back into the wall.

If Megumi could push the guy clean through the white painted brick, he’d be a bloody mess stuck inside of the concrete already.

“Don’t look at her,” The command comes out in a growl.  Megumi didn’t need to raise his voice to sound tough.  His brows are furrowed tight and low over his piercing eyes, which were half the force keeping Fratboy against this wall.  “Humor me, prick,” Megumi asks, making sure his attention couldn’t be drawn back towards (y/n) a second time.  “How come your shirt’s so pressed ‘n clean?” 

The guy’s lip wobbles a bit before he manages a small “H-huh?” 

“Your shirt,” Megumi’s voice is colder this time for having to repeat himself.  “How come it’s so clean?” 

“I- I- because I do my laundry?” He asks weakly.

Megumi rolls his eyes, letting them fall shut as his head tilts towards the high ceiling.  This guy had to be joking.

“Wrong answer,” He huffs.  “I’m gonna let you go, and you’re gonna go buy yourself another overpriced pretentious fucking coffee, got that?” 

Fratboy’s brows furrow, but he nods his head shakily in response.  Perhaps Megumi’s arm was pressed too hard against his chest, and he was finally out of air.  Megumi could only hope.

“And you’re gonna take that coffee and dump it over your head” 

“What!? I’m not-” 

“So you’d rather take the beating?” Megumi asks before the guy could protest too much.  His brows are raised, his interest genuinely piqued.  He had no problem with either option.  Having this prick walk around with a broken nose or an expensive shirt with a big brown coffee stain seemed like a win-win situation to him.

It’s clear that Fratboy remembers the last prick that pissed off Fushiguro Megumi, and he must remember that he wasn’t given options, because the back of his head defeatedly hits the wall behind him when he mutters out his choice.

Megumi gives him a solid nod, and he only pushes him a little bit when he drops his arm and steps back so he was free to leave.

Fratboy only takes a step and a half.

“Forgetting something?” Megumi barks, hard eyes freezing him in place before he could get close to re-entering the cafe.

Fratboy awkwardly maintains the eye contact, confusion clear in his features.  Megumi jerks his head towards (y/n), who’s silence evidently hadn’t made her invisible to the two.

“Oh, s-sorry- I’m sorry” 

It’s a weak ass apology, but Fratboy assumes it’s acceptable enough because when he rushes himself back into the cafe Megumi doesn’t stop him again.  He gets a few odd stares as he gets in line for a coffee with apprehensive eyes and his hands anxiously buried in his pockets, but he keeps his head down the entire time.

“Wh- why did you do that?” (y/n’s) mumble is the only sound in the empty hallway.  Her voice wants to stay stuck in her throat, but when it’s clear that Megumi isn’t going to give her an explanation- or say anything at all- she forces herself to ask.

His eyes fix on her, and an odd sensation settles over her.  All the previous fear and anxiety melts away.  She’d gone so rigid, her sense of fight or flight disappearing completely and keeping her stuck in place hoping she wasn’t going to be witness to a nasty fight.  But she hadn’t expected that.  Megumi’s intensity had been terrifying, even if it wasn’t directed at her, standing by and watching it had her throat closing up and her heart racing.

But he’d hardly even hurt the guy, just… humiliated him.  Still, it was just as shocking to watch.

And now, being alone with him and trapped under his stare, what she feels isn’t fear.  It’s… curiosity.

His eyes wander over her, reassuring himself that she was fine, maybe just a little shaken up by the whole thing.  She was probably more embarrassed than anything.  He could live with that, as long as she was safe.  He just couldn’t have placed his trust in that frat prick.

“I don’t like assholes” Megumi answers, his voice as monotone as ever, as if he hadn’t just scared the shit out of that guy for her.

The lump in her throat grew hot as the realization struck her.  He’d done all that for her? 

“Well- well yeah, but…” Her brows furrow, her head shakes ever so slightly as she tries to put her thoughts to words.  “But he didn’t do anything, just… was an asshole” 

“You don’t know that” His reply was quick but his tone didn’t shift.

(y/n’s) eyes widen, the furrow in her brow smooths out, and she’s at a loss for words as she keeps staring at him.

You have no idea what he was capable of doing.  Spiderman’s words repeat in her mind now as if he were standing right there saying them to her.  It’s uncanny how similar his warning was to Megumi’s just now.

“He probably would’ve fucked off if I told him to” She makes a weak argument in an attempt to fill the overbearing silence.

Megumi doesn’t say anything, just beckons her to follow him as he takes off in quick strides down the hall.  She should probably tell him to fuck off, but her curiosity gets the best of her, and she finds herself hurrying to catch up to him.  He’s not walking all that fast, but his stride is significantly longer than hers, and she finds herself out of breath as they round the corner and he enters the first empty classroom they come across.

“Maybe next time you’ll learn the lesson and tell him to fuck off, then” Megumi grumbles, more to himself than to her, but she takes offense nonetheless.

“Well sorry I wasn’t expecting you to show up out of nowhere and threaten the guy” She mutters back.

Megumi scoffs before shrugging his backpack off his shoulder.  (y/n) watches his every movement as he opens it up and digs around inside of it.  She wants to ask what he was looking for, but her words are stuck in her throat again, and this time she can’t get them to come out.

“I didn’t threaten anybody, relax,” He tells her in a voice that could’ve been more comforting, but it was at least steady and sure.  “It should make you feel better that he’s probably gone and made a fool of himself, now” He adds.

“Oh, thank you for that” She replies sarcastically.

“You’re welcome” Megumi replies in complete seriousness.

She opens her mouth, gaping at him, probably about to lay into him for taking her clear mockery as sincerity, but before she can he finally produces what he’d been looking for.

A tee shirt.

She blinks in dumbfounded silence as she stares at the plain black material in his hand.  His brows are raised in an impatient expression, but she doesn’t take the offer right away.

He sighs.  He’ll just have to do all the work, huh?

“Would you rather go the rest of the day in that?” He asks, nodding to the obvious mess of her shirt.

“It- it’s not that bad” She argues, her stubbornness forever getting in her own way.

“It’s going to reek of coffee” 

“I happen to like the- the coffee bean scent-” 

“It won’t be anything like that” 

“It’s not even that wet anymore” 

“I can see your whole bra now” 

That does the trick in shutting her up, her head snapping downward to reassess the damage done. The groan she lets out morphs into a whine before she looks up at the balled up shirt in his hand.  He vaguely stretches it towards her, and with a huff she snatches it right out of his hands.

As soon as he turns his back to her, busying himself with closing up his backpack, she’s peeling the ruined shirt over her head and quickly shrugging into the fresh tee shirt.

Besides the ridiculous proportion, she’s quick to notice the scent that clings to it.  She dips her head once it’s covered her, trying to place a name to the smell of fresh laundry.  Pine? Is this what pine smelled like? A part of her hated how good it smelled, how addicting it was to keep taking small sniffs.

“I’m… dressed” She says quietly when she’s gotten enough sniffs in and realizes that Megumi’s still just standing there.

When he turns, his eyes wander over figure not so subtly, but his expression is unchanging.  Even if his brain is going haywire seeing her in his clothes.  It’s just a tee shirt, but he takes a mental picture.

He realizes she must not wear black very often.  It’s striking on her.  It must be why his mouth has gone dry and he has to force himself to look her in the eye.

“Good?” He asks, already turning to leave the classroom.

She can’t believe he’s going to leave just like that.  It felt like nothing had been resolved here- and if anything, she only had more questions.  She doesn’t know what to say to make him stay, she’s not even sure he would stay if she asked him to.  He didn’t exactly seem to have any interest in being around her… ever… but then why had he put himself through all this trouble? Her muddled mind was a mystery, but the puzzled look on her face gave Megumi enough of an inclination to linger for just a minute longer.

“What?” He sighs, but her confusion is still plastered on her face.

“I… I don’t know…” Her voice is barely a mumble.  It doesn’t match the way her face tilts and shifts into something different.  She takes a step closer to him, a bold and large one, putting herself far closer to him than she ever would’ve imagined doing before.  She was supposed to keep a certain distance, Fushiguro Megumi had a reputation after all… but something was different.

This wasn’t the Fushiguro Megumi that she knew and despised.  In fact, this was a completely new person.  He was… familiar.

Megumi doesn’t step back when she draws in closer, but his neck leans backwards with apprehension, chin tilting lower to keep his eyes on her every movement.  It’s not like she’s able to do anything, there’s no mask to be ripped off, no secret identity to be figured out just from her stare alone, and yet something makes a pit grow in his stomach when she gets too close for comfort.

He’s never been this close to her.  Not without the wall of protection that was the Spiderman mask.

There’s nothing stopping him from walking away.  There was no harm in leaving her stranded in a classroom.  But something keeps him there anyways.  Something keeps him waiting for her to explain herself.

Her eyes drop his gaze, but they don’t fall far.  They land just a few inches lower, he can feel the prick of the daggers they stare against his lips.  Subconsciously he licks over them to soothe the ache of their sudden dryness.  Her look wanders just a little bit, but never too far.  Mapping out his chin and jawline, quickly down his neck and then back up again to his lips.

“What the hell are you doing?” He finally finds his voice when she leans in a little closer.  Not quite close enough to kiss him, but close enough that she could lean in if she wanted to.

(y/n) snaps out of it instantly, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushing when she looks at him properly again and realizes what she’d been doing.

Fushiguro Megumi? Spiderman? God, what was she thinking? 

“N-nothing” She stammers out, and before he could call her out and further her embarrassment, she brushes past him to make a quick exit out of the room.

Megumi’s left alone, his own cheeks flaring up with heat, but he can’t pinpoint what exactly causes the blushing, and he doesn’t really want to stand around to figure out why. ___

Megumi doesn’t show up to the last few classes of the day.  (y/n) notices.

Her fingers pinch at the hem of the tee shirt he’d given her, rolling the soft cotton over the pads of her fingers in contemplation.  Her focus on uncovering Spiderman’s identity during class has dwindled, but she’s not paying any attention to her studies, either.

For the last few hours of her day, she replays the events of the day in her mind on fast forward and rewind, over and over, trying to find something she felt she missed.

When had Megumi followed her out of the cafe? Had he seen what happened? Why was he so angry? Why was he so kind to her? Why was he so… 

It’s on the tip of her tongue, the timing of it all, the peculiarity of it all.  She knew she just had to be missing something.

Her trip home is quicker than usual, her steps as fast paced as her racing mind.  What was it? What was it that she wasn’t seeing? 

It was so close she could feel it looming right over shoulders. ___

Never before had she sought out Fushiguro Megumi.  But (y/n) couldn’t get the feeling to go away no matter how hard she tried, and she feared the only way out was through.

She didn’t want to confirm her assumptions without any proper evidence to base it all on, and she had a feeling that he was a pretty good liar, so she’d have to get creative with catching him.  The best way to start, she figures, is by getting him alone.

It takes longer than she hopes.  Megumi’s not an easy person to approach and he appears to like it that way.  She stares him down when he comes in late to their first class, and his eyes catch hers for a moment longer than usual, but without a change in his expression it’s hard for her to get a good read on him.  He takes his seat in the back of the class and she can’t get him to look at her again, no matter how many times she turns her gaze over her shoulder to steal another look at him.

After a few more classes with the same outcome, she supposes she’ll just have to wait until they break for lunch.  He’s always sitting alone there, so she has her hopes up that it will be easier to sit down and prove it then.

But of course today is the day he’s not seated at his usual corner table all to himself.  She waltzes into the cafe with nothing but confidence, and it’s ripped away from her when she sees that gloomy table empty.  She lingers for a few minutes, hoping to catch him walking in later than the rest, but he never comes.

With her confidence boiled down to irritation, she storms out of the cafe on a mission to have this ended once and for all.  She couldn’t possibly wait any longer, so one way or another, she was going to find and corner him.

The courtyard is empty at this time of day.  The weather was cloudy and with the high chance of rain in the next hour, no one wanted to spend their free time eating lunch or studying out there.

Ever the outlier, that’s where she happened to find Fushiguro Megumi.

She’s not sure if she should grin or grimace when she approaches the tree he’s sitting under.  He’s wearing his usual oversized headphones, and he’s got both his textbook and notebook opened.  He was the perfect image of don’t bother me.  (y/n) feels adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream as she rushes over to him.

It’s sort of strange.  Just a few days ago she would duck her head and keep walking if she happened to cross his path.  But it was like all of his intimidating qualities had just… disappeared.  Despite the vibe he was trying to put off, he didn’t seem as unapproachable anymore.  He didn’t seem as scary, although when she thinks about it long enough, (y/n) figures she’s probably the only person on this campus that interacted with him.  Even if it was to antagonize him, she’d never seen anyone else speak to him.

A few days ago, he was Fushiguro Megumi, the boy with the bad reputation and even worse attitude.  He was her academic rival, a thorn in her side that reminded her of faults just by existing.  Today, she thinks he might just be the boy she’s been falling head over heels for.  The one with careful words spoken by gentle lips.  The first person in a long time that actually made her feel seen, and a feeling of being understood could work wonders on a stubborn heart.

“Hey!” She hollers, and Megumi jolts as he looks up to find her walking up to him.  His expression scrunches up as he pulls his headphones down around his neck, and lowers his dual books.

“What do you want?” He asks, but the words aren’t nearly as harsh as he wants them to be.

She stops just before him, and invites herself to sit down beside his outstretched legs.  He wants to tell her that he’s busy, that he’s studying out here alone because he wants peace and quiet, but he’s silent as she drops her backpack in front of her and opens it up.

“Thought you’d want this back” She says, pulling out a familiar black tee shirt.  She hands it to him folded in a neat square.  He almost laughs, knowing that when he’d offered it to her it had been a crumpled up ball.

“Right” He says, but before he takes it, she pulls it back towards herself, unfolding it.  Megumi watches with furrowed brows.  Was she not giving it back? 

“I’ve just had this weird feeling lately,” She explains as she opens the shirt up completely.  Megumi’s confused expression flickers between her and the shirt.  “So I wanted to see something” 

She starts bunching up the black material then, which Megumi watches with growing bewilderment.  Why even fold it? What was this? 

“Okay…?” His voice trails off when she looks up at him again, and the next thing he knows she’s leaning in close, holding his tee shirt up to his face.  “What the- (y/n), what the hell are you doing?” 

She ignores his questioning and the way he tries to swat her hands from getting any closer, but it doesn’t stop her from doing exactly what she aimed to do.  Holding the black material up to cover half his face, from the bridge of his nose up, all that was left to see was his mouth down.

She couldn’t deny that it wasn’t a familiar sight, but it was hard to prove her theory on that alone, and she sighs.

“(y/n), this is annoying.  And weird,” Megumi starts, his hands wrapping around her wrists in a careful hold, but enough to start to pull her and the tee shirt she was trying to blindfold him with away.  “Can I have the shirt back or not- mmph!” 

Just as he thinks he’s put a stop to her weird antics, she takes him by complete surprise when she darts forward and presses her lips against his.  Megumi’s eyes go wide, although he’s still half hidden behind the shirt, he can’t help but keep them open as her soft lips move over his with familiar gentle passion.  His confusion melts away the longer she holds the kiss, and by the time he thinks he should put a stop to it, it’s already too late.  He’s connected the dots and so has she.

He sighs against her mouth, his fingers twitching around her wrists, unsure as to whether or not he should let her go or pull her in closer.  (y/n) breaks away from the kiss just as she releases his shirt.  They both let it drop to his lap, and she finally gets to see the whole picture.

His features have fallen to soft surprise as he gazes back at her, waiting for whatever was about to come.  He doesn’t know if he should brace himself for something good or something bad, but he does his best to put his walls up anyways.

Her own eyes are wide with recognition, flickering between his own troubled eyes and the lips she’d just spontaneously kissed.  Her tongue darts over her bottom lip thoughtfully, and for a second, Megumi thinks she’s going to give it a second try just to be sure.  She doesn’t have to say anything right away for him to know exactly what she was thinking.  She knew those lips.  She knew that kiss.  He’d gotten his cover blown over a kiss, of all things.

What he doesn’t expect is for (y/n) to let out a breathless laugh of delight, once the gears in her mind start to turn again.  Her eyes are glimmering with an excitement she couldn’t contain.

“I told you I’d figure it out!” She keeps her voice hushed, which he can tell takes a great deal of effort.

“You always go around kissing random people?” He mumbles, thinking maybe he can play it off, maybe there was still a chance of gaslighting her into thinking he wasn’t the masked webslinger that had been slowly sparking up a romance with her.  

There’s not even a small chance, though.  (y/n) pulls her hands out of his gentle hold just to reach for his face, curiously skimming over his jaw, and then down his shoulders.  His attempts at reaching for her hands again to stop her from practically running them all over him are weak, and it’s easy for her to ignore his clear attempts at stopping her.

“Wow, I almost can’t believe it,” She begins to mumble to herself, her eyes moving at rapid speeds as she puts the picture together in her mind.  The lips she’d memorized in the hopes of finding them again, only to find they were on Megumi’s face, she lets out a delirious string of giggles.  “I mean, it makes sense now, but it also doesn’t- why did you keep coming to see me?” 

Megumi opens his mouth, but he doesn’t get a single word out before she’s throwing more questions at him.

“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t figure it out? I’m top of the class you know, and you’re not exactly great at hiding things-” 

“Second to the top,” Megumi reminds her with a slight roll of his eyes.  “And it took you quite a while, you know” 

“Yeah, well, the secrecy thing was fun for a bit,” She argues.  “But you barely tried to hide it.  Coming into class looking like you got hit by a bus? What were you thinking?” 

“That you hated my guts and didn’t care if I did get hit by a bus?” He replies with a smartass smile.  Now it’s her turn to roll her eyes.

Her hands fall still against his collarbones, fingertips barely tapping against the base of his throat with her excitement.

“It was you this whole time…” She murmurs, but she doesn’t sound as disappointed as Megumi expects.  Her gentle eyes feel piercing as they stare at him thoughtfully, as if this was the first time she was really seeing him.  In a way, it sort of was.  “Were you ever going to tell me?” She asks quietly, and this time she does wait for him to say something.  

Megumi sighs, regarding her soft expression with thoughtfulness.  There was no coming back from this now.  She figured him out and he barely even tried to cover it up.  That was a hard thing to do once she’d kissed him, though.  She must’ve figured out his weakness, and happily used it against him..  Typical brat.

“I thought about it,” He says honestly.  “Just didn’t seem like a good idea,” 

The corners of her lips barely turn into a frown, and Megumi can’t help himself from reaching out to her, cradling her jaw in as light of a touch as he could bear.  It was different now, feeling her warm skin against his without hiding in a suit, behind a mask.  He knows she must feel it, too.

Everything was completely different now.  She must be upset with him, right? She must at least be discouraged in finding out it had been him all along.  Not someone with a better track record, maybe someone more attractive, or at least nice to her.  He wonders if she had her hopes up for a specific person.

“Are you upset?” He asks.  He doesn’t want to know all the answers to his questions, but he asks before he could shove down the curiosity and avoid it forever.

“Upset?” She repeats, brows furrowing momentarily with her confusion.  “What do you mean?” 

“Y’know,” He mumbles, long lashes flickering as his eyes fall to her lips for a moment.  He looks at her again before continuing.  “That it’s me.  That it’s been me” 

“Oh,” She hums, thinking for a second.  “Well… did you mean it all?” 

“Mean it all?” He repeats her now.  “You mean while I was Spiderman?” 

(y/n) nods in a small motion.

“Yeah… did you mean all the stuff you said… and did?” She adds the last part in an even quieter whisper than the rest, but the look in her eyes is so full of anticipation it speaks volumes over her voice.

“Yeah, of course,” Megumi answers without a shred of hesitation.  “Of course I did,” He says it again, leaning forward with emphasis, his eyes never leaving hers.  “(y/n), I didn’t want you finding out because I didn’t… I didn’t know that I would…” He trails off, his nerves starting to crawl up his throat for having to admit so many truths in one sitting.  This one seemed to be harder than the rest.  “I didn’t know I’d like you so much” 

She laughs, breathless and sweet, humored by such an honest confession.  It finally makes a real smile creep over his lips, relieved to see that her reaction was anything but negative.  His heart skips a beat, and his thumb trembles as he reaches to stroke it over her cheekbone.  He can’t help but want to pull her in closer, hold her properly, maybe even kiss her again.  It should scare him, that she knew the truth now, that he was vulnerable to her now, but right now all he feels is a weight lifted off his chest, and the lingering taste of her chapstick on his lips.

“I definitely didn’t plan on liking you so much either,” She admits softly, her cheeks burning with color.  Megumi can feel the heat in her skin when he presses the pad of his thumb further against her cheek.  “Are you mad about it?” 

“Mad?” He laughs, his smile becoming a full blown grin now as he leans in closer to her.  Her fingers curl into the material of his shirt as he draws her in closer, too.  Anticipation has her eyes flickering between his lips and the deep blue eyes that haven’t left hers since she’d kissed him.  “Mad about what? Getting to know you? The real you? And falling for you?” 

Her eyes grow wide as she stares back at him.  For a guy that hid behind a mask for weeks, he sure got comfortable putting his cards on the table fast.

“No, I’m not mad about it,” He answers her properly, closing enough distance in between them that his nose prodded against hers.  Her eyes fluttered shut before she could stop herself, her chin tilting forward to meet him the rest of the way.  “I’ve wanted nothing more than to be with you, like this, for real, since you brought me that dumb bag of vegetables” 

“It wasn’t dumb, there wasn’t ice” She argued.  Her lips had just been brushing over his in the ghost of a kiss before she jerked away to argue some more.  Ever so stubborn, he thinks with nothing but fondness for her.

Megumi doesn’t let her go far, pulling her right back in until her lips landed on his, and all further arguments died on her tongue.  Her hands relaxed their hold on his shirt as her lips moved against his with muscle memory.  Soft and so pliable, she melted right against him, leaning closer and closer until they were chest to chest, and Megumi moved his free arm to wrap around the dip in her back, keeping her tucked as close to him as he could without disconnecting their lips.

She finally gets to card her hands through his hair, scraping her nails over the nape of his neck before pushing the longer strands between her fingers.  It becomes impossibly messier than usual, but Megumi only hums in delight as she messes it all up.  He must’ve always wanted more, too.

Her fingers tangle in his hair and she doesn’t let up even when they part to catch their breath.  Megumi stays close, his forehead resting against hers as he pants over her lips, leaving her still wanting more.

“You know I still have a million questions, right?” She murmurs, and Megumi can’t help but place the softest of kisses against her lips as she speaks, even if he was still breathless.

“I don’t feel like sitting and talking right now” He mumbles, chasing her lips for another kiss.  She giggles, kissing him back but not nearly as long as he would’ve liked.  Pulling away all too soon, she stares at him with wide eyes.

“I mean, how do the webs work?” 

“(y/n), we have class in ten minutes, that’s not nearly enough time to get into it all,” He sighs, his hands smoothing over her hips and trying to draw her closer again.  “Can’t we just enjoy this a little longer, and talk about all of that later?” 

Huffing, (y/n) leans back in, and it makes Megumi smile if only for a moment.  She stops short just before her lips could touch his.

“So… did Spiderman put that guy in a hospital last year?” 

Megumi groans, dropping his head back against the trunk of the tree.  She wasn’t going to let this go, and that reputation was going to follow him forever, it seemed.

“Alright.  C’mon, we’re headed to class,” He prompted her to grab her things and stand with him, but she kept her hands in his hair too secure for him to want to stand up.  “(y/n), I promise I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, later-” 

“Let’s just skip class” She suggests, all too eagerly for a girl that bragged about being at the top of their class.

“Yeah, right,” Megumi scoffs, but when her expression doesn’t waver, his face falls and he stares at her bewildered.  “You’re not serious…?” 

“Why not?” She replies.  “We can afford to miss a couple classes,” It’s not a bad argument, Megumi’s just shocked to hear her say it at all.  “And.. I want to be the first one to get an exclusive interview with Spiderman” She giggles, and Megumi huffs, giving her a bored look.

“I’d rather go to class” 

“And we can make out” 

“... I guess some catching up isn’t a bad idea” 

It takes them some time to gather their things and get going, only because (y/n) insisted on keeping her hands on him in one way or another, but even if Megumi pretended to be annoyed it wasn’t a believable performance.  He kept her close with his arm wrapped firm around her as they made their way off campus quickly, hoping to beat the rain.

“You know, I’m thinking of calling you the Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman when I write about you,” (y/n) tells him on their walk to her apartment.  “Has a nice ring to it” 

Megumi laughs humorlessly.

“Not sure it paints a very accurate picture,” He tells her, brows raised as he watches her pout up at him.  “But you’re kinda gonna be my publicist, so I guess I’ll take what I can get” 

“Hey! I thought you said you were falling for me” (y/n) sasses back.  Megumi bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too hard.  He tosses his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer as they walk.

“That was off the record” He mumbles.

She beams up at him, he pulls her a little closer into his side, keeping an eye on her only from his peripheral vision.  He couldn’t be getting too sappy with the way he looked at her now, he’d grown too used to having a mask to hide the dreamy look in his eye.  Now though, it was completely on display for her to see.

(y/n) quite liked the view that she got now that he was mask-free.  She’d always had her suspicions that Spiderman was handsome, and quite the victory it was to be proven right in that department.  The stubborn, monotone, boy with a reputation part was just… an added bonus, she supposed.

She also supposed that she’d come with her own reputation now, too.  With Megumi never far behind he took on a role akin to guard dog.  She couldn’t deny she grew to like the feeling, melting at the protective way he kept close whether he had the mask on or not.

He had a certain responsibility to uphold when it came to keeping Tokyo safe, but he had a responsibility to those he loved, too.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[fishnapple]

People's assumptions about you

This reading is about the assumptions people in general have about you. Which might not be true to how you really are.

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

LILAC

• You have a quiet, mysterious vibe that makes people think you have been through a lot. This kind of being experienced creates a sense of knowing, like nothing can faze you, you have seen enough, the good, the bad, everything in between about life.

• They also assume you wield your power well, you're used to it and you can use it to seduce people or to deter them from getting closer. There's a contradictory feeling about you, on one hand, you seem intense and seductive, on another, you're aloof and impartial. So people think that you just like to appear attractive for the sake of being attractive, not to attract anything or anyone in particular.

• Those who are lucky enough to get into your inner circle will be treated differently, with generous care and intuitive understanding.

• They could think you're from a religious background. Or someone with mixed races and have a diverse religious background.

• They could assume you come from money or are well taken care of.

• You seem to be good at learning, fast thinker, intelligent. No matter how you actually think about your intelligence, people will assume you're smart and don't have trouble solving problems. Maybe you talk fast, have knowledge about a wide variety of subjects or people usually see you learning, researching something, especially about some niche or taboo subjects. This also contributes to your mysterious aura.

• Some could assume you like casual relationships. You revel in social interactions, you can chat anyone up and have some friendly banters with them. You enjoy hanging out with people but you don't want to be involved too deeply with anyone. Your goal in interactions with people is usually to learn something new, to satiate your curiosity. Again, the thought of getting close to you, being considered more special than the rest by you, is a great ego boost to some people.

• You're good at hiding your more unsavoury side. People generally think you're calm and worry-free but some will have a little suspicion that you're hiding your negativity, it's like they can't believe there's actually anyone who has no worry or problem. Especially if you're being anxious about the future, feeling lonely or lost, you won't show it. The people who suspect about this will likely want to dig deep to get to see your problems.

GRAPEFRUIT

• You have a brilliant aura that makes people automatically assume you have it easy in life. Like someone who has been treated so well by life that they are so positive and lighthearted.

• Enthusiastic and mischievous, people will assume you're younger than your actual age.

• You have no problem convincing someone, pulling someone to your side purely by talking and debating. People can see your cleverness and humour clearly.

• People think you have a fast lifestyle, always on the move, rarely at home, never sitting still, don't settle down. They assume you have an extensive travel backlog. Some will want to give you advice about settling down, having a stable family life. Maybe they think you're too young or have too many things going on for you to consider those topics seriously, but you will, in the future.

• Based on your cheerful or carefree demeanour, some will guess you are not well disciplined or are spoiled. They think your upbringing was a little loose and lacked proper guidance, resulting in a freestyle way of living.

• Maybe the way you dress or the things you use will make people think you're careless about money or have a lot to spare. You like shopping, hoarding material possessions and are just generous with your money in general.

• Some could assume you're too easy-going and simple-minded, despite your expression of cleverness, like someone who is easy to be taken advantage of, gullible. Some would want to protect you because of that, others would want to take advantage of that.

• You seem to be well liked and have no trouble getting a date. If you're single, they will just assume that you probably don't want to commit, prefer to stay single by choice, if you want to, people would jump at the chance to date you.

• Some would think you prefer older people for friendship and connections in general, you like to be spoiled and taken care of. But they also can sense that you treasure your friendships greatly, those who can stick to you through thick and thin will be revered and respected by you.

• Some can see you easily getting stressed, over exerting or are afflicted with some illness frequently. They might think to themselves that's the consequences of living a fast life, or you're going through some stressful situations that you don't want to talk about.

PEAR

• Maybe your reputation precedes you. People could form assumptions of you based on what they heard about you, not necessarily from interactions with you. They think that you're really a go-getter, ambitious, if not sometimes ruthless. You act on your impulses and zero in your targets, you get what you want, one way or another. They could feel that being the target of your gaze would equal to being a prey. You could give off a no-nonsense and efficient vibe that won't tolerate misbehaviour and disrespect.

• But they also feel that you put great value on friendship and community bonds. You would be a great leader, a pioneer, a protector of your group.

• The thing is, not many assumptions about your are correct. People could hear or see one aspect of you and proceed to make up a whole story about you. You could be a favourite topic in gossip. Some would put you on a pedestal and can't see you do anything wrong, while some would be so ready to find any dirt about you to make you seem less than ideal.

• Some would assume you have unique dreams that you want to achieve. Those that normal people won't understand or sympathise with. You're on your own road, doing your own things. People think you're really daring, you won't sit contentedly with what you're having, you're not afraid to upset the status quo. If you find a new inspiration, a new objective, you will be ready to pack your bag and get up and go, leaving behind everything you have achieved. In a less dramatic sense, people sense that you have the ability to let go, to search for a new horizon without attachment to the past.

• Speaking of the past, some would think that you're a nostalgic person. Some hobbies and favourite things of yours are those of the past. You might still keep doing or enjoying something that you had done when you were a child. Childhood could be your soft spot, the one thing that you guard so fiercely.

• They feel that you come from a traditional family with parents in their traditional roles. And somehow, you don't want to follow their footsteps, you want to rebel, to challenge that system. You might want to stay single and independent, focusing on yourself rather than family and partnership.

• If you ever get into a partnership, people think that would involve some deals and terms, something beneficial that is worthwhile of your effort. You approach every partnership like a business one, negotiating the terms, striking a deal, exchanging of values.

CHERRY

• People think you're in a purging period. You're not satisfied with your current life and the direction it's going. It's like you've reached a plateau, you need to find a new direction, a new way of living your life. And people think you're really brave for that intention, you're not afraid to discard unnecessary things, old thinking patterns, limited beliefs. You're willing to give yourself a makeover. Fears seem to not faze you at all, there seem to be no emotional turmoil. You act with your instincts and your heart's desire, charging forward.

• But people don't think you're a flaky, changeable person. You only change when your life demands it, your ultimate goal is stability and a stronger foundation.

• On the topic of instincts, some people feel you're really spontaneous in love. You fall in love easily, suddenly, with the naivete of a child. You love being in love, you don't take into consideration other practical matters surrounding a relationship, you just jump in for the pure bliss of romance.

• They would guess that you're usually the one doing the pursuing and confessing first. There could be a pattern in the people you're attracted to or a pattern in your relationships. Some would think, quietly, that you might be not aware of some deeper aspects within yourself, manifesting as these patterns. Like a certain part of you is repressed or neglected, so you seek that part in the other person.

• But in general, people think you have a lot of love to give. Your brave heart is undeniable.

• Other than romance, people also think that you're artistic and creative. Your ideas are unique and refreshing, some could be a little too grand, too far reaching. Some could guess that your job involves this kind of artistic talent.

• The way you act makes some feel that you're being sheltered by the people around you, like a precious child being protected by the community. But there's no envy or negative emotion here, they just observe that and can understand by themselves why you're like that. There's a honesty, a purity of thoughts in the way you express yourself and the way you share with people. They think you deserve that kind of good treatment.

• Also, due to that perceived honesty, some would feel comfortable confiding in you, they trust that you would keep their secrets for them.

GOLD

• The first thing people would assume about you is that you love hanging out with people, socialising, and having superficial fun with anyone you come across. You seem lighthearted like an excited kid in the middle of a carnival, wanting to see everything, to taste everything.

• People also think you like to shine, to feel seen and applauded. You're gregarious and seem to have no difficulty being yourself in front of a crowd. A bright confidence. Some would assume you like to be in a crowd because you like the attention. But most just assume you're friendly and have an extrovert nature.

• A few would try to guess the base of your desire to mingle with people. They think you're lonely or are sad about something, and you want to soothe that feeling by being with people, seeking the warmth of others. But most people don't seem to think too deeply about your nature, some would even find it hard to believe you're having some emotional turmoil inside.

• Some with a more suspicious nature might think you like to use joke and sarcasm to mask your insecurities and the difficulties you're having in your life. They think you're running away from the problems, trying to stay positive while a future disaster is pressing on your nerves. They think you need to change something or to be more brave in taking a new endeavour. It's not malicious though, they want to help and support you because they think you have potential.

• Right now, you seem to be pretty settled down with your life, doing things routinely, repeating days after days, like a drill. Some think that you're running in circles, wasting your time by immersing in the mundane details of other people's lives while refusing to look further for your own life. Or they assume your work requires that kind of lifestyle. You seem like a busybee, moving, talking constantly.

• People would assume based on your outgoing nature and the carefree way you show yourself, you have an active and passionate sex life. Your sexuality might be the question lots of people have in mind. Some would assume you can be quite dominant and aggressive in bed.

HONEY

• The assumptions about you would change a lot with time. Each period of your life will be accompanied by different assumptions from people. Could be that with each period, you are in a different environment with different types of people. So their values and beliefs would be different. Consequently, their assumptions about you and everything around them in general would be different. But the common point between these assumptions is that, they usually don't reflect your true self very well, people would likely be surprised when they get closer to you.

• At first glance, they assume that you're very passionate and full of ardour. You're optimistic and like to believe in a bright future, regardless of your current situation.

• People would think that you're a relationship person. Another group also has a passionate and confident air about them when it comes to love and romance, but yours is softer and feels more mature. People think you don't chase love, but by being so intensely you, you attract love wherever you go.

• They would assume that being love by you would be an unforgettable experience, the kind of love that is so pure and nurturing, where you can put your heart out into the open. Some people would fall for your perceived ability to love. Your potential of being a lover.

• Right now, you seem to focus more on securing material comfort and building a foundation for yourself rather than focusing on relationships. You can be perceived as a very hardworking person, to the point of being a workaholic. The people who want to approach you think you don't have time for them. You completely committed yourself to your work and study. Determined to be stable and thriving.

• Money and material possessions might be a source of comfort for you. They think you would try everything to achieve that, even using some tricks or personal talents to help you get ahead. Nothing too serious or negative though, they just feel that you have a knack for completing tasks faster, skillful and flexible.

• If someone knows more about your upbringing and the traditional values surrounding it, they would assume that the you right now is rebelling against those values. It's like you've reinvented yourself anew, away from the old values that no longer resonate with you. You could have been disillusioned by them, a naive believer. But now you stand on your own, find and build your own set of values. You could change your jobs, your studies, your living places because of that.

[torialefay]

"you've never had someone be this good to you before?"

perv!changbin x fem!reader

✨ synopsis: changbin couldn't help but to offer his services when he found out that the object of his obsessive thoughts had never been properly taken care of.

✨ word count: ~3.2k

✨ warnings: perv changbin, orgasm control, oral (fem receiving); minors DNI 🔞

✨ note: you can pop over to my masterlist & scroll toward the bottom to find the smut request info & prompts. i would love to receive some prompts that aren't strictly fem!reader (but ofc those are welcome too) <3

• you'd been friends for well over a year, yes. so how could you not have known that this entire time, changbin had been watching you?

• it had started as innocent, really. simply watching the way you walked and how your hips moved side to side with each step. he watched the way your shorts would ride up your thighs every time you sat down. he noticed the way your eyes got so big for him each time you raised your head to look up.

• and slowly, it started to drive him crazy.

• in his head, it was only natural- inevitable really. there was no harm in giving you a little bit of extra attention. nothing wrong with that.

• but before he knew it, he was going to lengths he'd never dreamed.

• friendly banter turned into more extreme measures, like him pulling you into his lap. "playfully" of course, and *not* because of the rush he got knowing that your pussy had just been resting so close to him... only thin fabric separating the two of you.

• although he would never admit it to anyone, he'd secretly taken photos of you. any time you were sitting in your chair, legs wrapped behind the chair legs, which made your ass stick out perfectly in his view. any time your top was low-cut enough to make out the lines between your breasts. any time you were innocently sucking up your drink, licking your lollipop, or licking your lips. he always had his camera at the ready, meticulous in making sure the flash had been turned off. he'd never blow his cover so carelessly.

• he'd "accidentally" drop things next to you just so he could bend down close to you and savor the sight as he came back up. your legs... they looked so soft. he wondered if a day would ever come that you would let him touch them... willingly.

• he'd even go as far as to say something spilled in the seat you were about to go to, so he could lay his jacket down for you to sit on and collect your scent for later.

• when he could finally be alone at the end of the day, he'd make sure he had all of his prized possessions out before he got to work on himself. the photos of you pulled up on his phone. his jacket held up to his face so he could take it in as he began to furiously pump his cock. and before he knew it, he was busting everywhere- his body overwhelmed, begging, and wholly giving in to the thought of you.

• but he didn't think that he'd ever be able to *actually* act on his urges... that is, until you'd messaged him one night that you needed help with something. moving some furniture or something like that- he didn't take the time to read much of the text past "hey, is there any chance you'd be able to come over-." that's all he needed to spring up and out the door.

• after taking care of what you needed, he'd hung around on the couch for a chat. he listened to all of your stories. he admired the amount of information that you entrusted to him. and for you, all of this felt like de-stressing in the most natural way.

• after talking vulnerably about past relationships (at this point, you weren't even aware how you'd gotten to this level of comfort), changbin had managed to squeeze out of you a more intimate conversation- one in which you told him you'd never actually been properly eaten out before.

• his brain couldn't comprehend it. someone as... perfect as you? with those few words, he lost it. all inhibition had left his body now that he'd gotten you to this point.

• "i could, ya know? if you want to of course," he said, his heart leaping inside his chest. he was high off of the adrenaline.

• "what?" you almost laughed in both embarrassment and disbelief. changbin was your friend, nothing more. why would he even joke about something like that?... well, unless he wasn't.

• "i said i could eat you out. show you it can feel good... if you want." his voice remain firm and steady.

• "where is this coming from?" you asked, your mind full of confusion.

• "nowhere, i-" he cleared his throat, now the wobbliness beginning to catch up with him. "nowhere. i just never would have thought that you hadn't, uhh.. had that before. i'm sorry if i made you feel weird," he mumbled in a rush, beginning to stand up.

• "no changbin, it's okay!" you held your hand out, motioning for him to stay. "i just... wasn't expecting that i guess? you've been such a good friend to me, i never thought..." your train of thought ran off. "i mean i'm just surprised is all. i don't want this to come between us. a spur-of-the-moment thing," you voiced nervously. you still weren't sure of the situation, so why were you saying this?

• "spur of the moment?" he chuckled, shaking his head with a smile. "you don't know how badly i've wanted you? you've had no clue this whole time?"

• "no..." your voice went shaky. "you never said anything." you looked down, not sure what to do.

• "what should i have said? that i've thought about fucking you every day for months on end? that i've spent my days doing everything i can to get closer to you... to want you so badly to the point that i cannot physically stand it? and to get anything possible from you because it turns me on? is that what i should have said?"

• you were taken aback. "get anything possible? what do you mean?"

• "nothing," he huffed defensively. you could tell that he was trying to calm himself down. you didn't think he meant to scare you. "just drop it. please. i shouldn't have said anything in the first place... but now here we are."

• "but..." you started, taking a moment to collect the words in your head. "but what if i do want it?" you looked up at him with nervous but hopeful eyes.

• changbin could feel his pulse begin to heighten. "say the word then, and i'll show you." he tried his best to contain the smile that so badly wanted to spread across his face.

• turns out, you didn't need to say anything. you put on a shy grin as you nodded your head, signaling your readiness. within a second, changbin was springing up, eager to finally turn his fantasies into reality.

• "okay, we can go slow if you want?" he half-smirked, looking down at you now. he'd never seen a more perfect sight.

• "yeah, i think that'd be good," you said, still a bit shy. you weren't quite sure where to go from here, so you gladly let him take the lead.

• "turn this way for me," he instructed, holding his hand out for you to grab onto. you took it, and he pulled slightly towards himself, helping you to rotate so that your body was now turned toward the front of the couch.

• changbin followed up with a satisfied smile at how well you were listening to him. just like his fantasies.

• "can i?" he asked, running his hand down gently to rest at the waist band of your shorts.

• you nodded, nibbling at your lips in anticipation.

• gently, changbin lowered himself to begin removing your shorts. slowly but with smooth hands, he removed your legs, one by one. he was careful with watching you- he'd studied your face far too well to miss out on any changing expressions he could coax out.

• throwing your shorts to the side, he sank to his knees so that he was now almost eye level with your pussy. suddenly, you felt exposed. intimidated. suddenly not quite sure how you'd gotten here.

• you closed your thighs together tightly, the red embarrassment evident on your face.

• "here, don't be shy," changbin said, sensing your hesitancy. he softly placed each hand on the inside of either thigh, applying slight pressure to move them apart. although you were fighting through the nerves, his gentleness washed over you with a much needed calming sensation.

• you let out a deep breath, not sure how long you'd been holding it in. you wiggled yourself a bit, trying to adjust to the newness of the situation as you settled into your position.

• changbin smiled up at you in return, his eyes endearing yet full of excitement. a sense of fulfillment had his brain clouded over.

• he wasted no time in running one hand up until it found the heat of your clothed core. you could tell that his hand was slightly shaking in his bout of disbelief, no matter how hard he was trying to cover it up.

• you shuddered a bit at the feeling of his thumb lightly grazing you, making momentary contact with your clit. it sent a bolt down your spine from a feeling that you'd been missing for far too long.

• changbin started slowly, rubbing up and down, then left and right, then in small, dredgingly slow circles trying to figure out what you liked.

• and if you were being honest, at this point, even you didn't know what you liked. no one had ever touched you like this before- so softly, so tenderly. every movement felt like it was the best sensation you'd ever experienced.

• changbin tried unsuccessfully to jerk his smile down while looking at the sight of you beginning to grind your hips down onto his fingers. you were silently begging him for even more contact. seeing you like this... it was better than he could have ever imagined.

• "let's take these off?" changbin whispered, pulling slightly at the hem of your underwear.

• you nodded, your mind coming out of its haze. you tilted your head just enough to watch as changbin slid them down with ease. almost as if he'd trained to do this all so perfectly... for you.

• the look on his face when he finally came in contact with your core, now entirely unclothed, was something you would never forget. his jaw dropped a bit, as if he couldn't believe what was in front of him. but following, barely a moment after, was a face full of determination. determination for what?... well you hoped you knew the answer.

• changbin again decided to rest his hands on the insides of your thighs so that he could spread you open as wide as possible. he wanted to see all of you. have access to every last inch. he was going to do this right.

• "you have to tell me what feels good, okay?" he cooed, looking up from in between your legs.

• you gave a bashful nod in response, signaling that you understood.

• carefully, changbin brought his fingers back to you, letting you get used to the feeling of his contact without moving. once he could tell that your tension was gone, he slowly started to rub up and down, one inch at a time. the fact that you were so wet for him almost made a gasp fall from his mouth. but it didn't. he wouldn't let it. he was going to have to fight the urge for now, not wanting you to feel overwhelmed by him so quickly. he wanted to savor every second he'd get with you.

• almost painfully slow, he continued to let his fingers slide along, getting you more and more worked up with each movement.

• it wasn't until he was completely sure that you were ready when he moved to land over your clit, which had been throbbing by this point. he remained calm, drawing gentle and slow circles around you to gage your reaction. as you strain out an inhaled breath, he knew he was right where he needed to be.

• he brought his face down to your core, mentally preparing to hold himself back. he didn't know how you'd respond, but he knew this was his only chance. he placed a few soft kisses on your inner thigh, acclimating you to his mouth. the kisses grew lighter and lower as he picked your leg up, kissing down to your knees as he went. he settled with resting your leg over his shoulder, granting him better access to you.

• just like the first time, he positioned his face at the opposite thigh, taking his time with soft pecks and temptingly letting his teeth graze your skin. he calmly lifted your leg to position it in parallel to the other, effectively caging himself in.

• you took a deep breath as you felt his tongue on your core, licking its way up. he didn't take much time before finding your clit and proceeding to roll his tongue up and down, trying to gage your reaction.

• as you gradually let yourself relax, you leaned into the feeling that he was providing you. you focused solely on his movements and how each of them made you tingle in a different way.

• you almost lost your breath entirely as he began sucking in, making the wildest noises and moaning on the spot once he heard you let out a tiny whine yourself. the tingles that were being sent into your thighs was proof enough that you'd never experienced something that felt like... well, this before.

• your heart skipped a beat each time he nipped at you in your most sensitive spot. slowly, you were burning for him. you wanted to scream out- to beg to him to do it again. over and over. but at the same time, you didn't know how you'd be able to bear it.

• but changbin knew you well. a small smirk crept across his face as he realized what he'd done to you. it only made him want to work harder to please you. to make you understand exactly what he's been working for for all of these months.

• "mmm, feels good?" he hummed into you, sending shock waves that only added to the feeling.

• "ye- yes," you strained out, trying to hold back.

• "you like it when i eat you out, huh?" he pulled off just long enough to give you a short smirk. something about his tone almost caused you to convulse on the spot. you were fighting back the urge to throw your knees together entirely.

• "yes," you whined now, grinding down onto his tongue as you went. you wanted so badly to let go.

• "mmm, are you gonna cum for me?" his voice rang out, darker now.

• you reflexively bucked your hips. this was exactly what you needed to spiral. you felt your toes begin to tingle, preparing to lose yourself.

• "yes, -fuck!" you arched a bit, feeling a particularly sharp jolt. "fuck, i'm gonna cum, i'm gonna cum-"

• "no you're not," he stated, fixated on your pussy with his lips still attached. "need you to keep going. cum when i tell you to."

• your eyes shot open. no? what did he mean no? you knew you weren't going to be able to hold it back. this was a side of changbin you'd never seen before.

• as the sensation built, a tear started to build up in the corner of your eye. this was too good. too too good. your legs were beginning to shake already. this was getting to be too much.

• as changbin's eyes came up to connect with yours, you were sure you were gone. you quickly threw one hand down to his hair, pushing his face further into you, while the other hand gripped tightly to the blanket next to you. you watched the tiny smirk in his gaze as you threw yourself down onto him.

• "please, please," you moaned, louder than you'd intended. "please, i'm gonna cum. i have- have to."

• "mmm? you've never had someone be this good to you before?" was all that he responded with, sending the vibrations along with it.

• "please," you cried. "please, i-- OH FUCK," you yelled one last time.

• the joints in your hand began to ache, giving in to the pressure put on it from bunching into the cushions around you.

• this was it. whatever he said, you weren't going to be able to hold it off any more. this was all you could take.

• noticing your shift, changbin smiled. "you can cum now, princess." his tongue returned once more to your clit, holding his lips taut to you. "cum on me right now," he ordered.

• finally, you were able to relish in the quick bolts that were shooting up from the bottoms of your feet and into your core.

• you couldn't stop yourself from yelling out, sending changbin into doing the same

• moans sang out in choirs, each hitting its note precisely as instructed. your hips moved accordingly, trying to ride out your full high, but trembling in the process.

• this was bliss. pure and utter euphoria like you'd never experienced before. in a jolt of a moment, your neck shivered, feeling a tingle working it's way up your spine. and before you knew it, your brain caught up to the feeling, blanking out and turning to static.

• your body reflexively arched, losing control of itself entirely. it was now a slave to the feeling that changbin was giving you. your body reacted to him like he was the only man in the world. and maybe now, to you, he was.

• fighting to finally throw yourself off of him, you wanted to cry. you never knew it could feel this good- so all consuming, so deep. to feel totally and completely taken care of.

• it was then, in your shaking, quivering state that you realized that a few tears had actually been spilled out. you took deep breaths, wiping your eyes as quickly as you could.

• as your mind slowly started to return, you couldn't believe what you'd just experienced. your body was spent. your brain was spent. you didn't know what you could possibly say or do at this point. it's as if you weren't even in the world.

• changbin snaked himself up slowly, wrapping his arms around yours in an attempt to sooth you. "was it okay?" he asked, the tiniest bit of pride in his voice.

• you couldn't help but to laugh in response. "yeah," you blinked as you sniffled. "yeah, i think it was okay."

---------------------

✨ if you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, and/or re-blogging <3

✨ i promise y'all, one day i will figure out which formatting i like the best & then i will stick to it. i have problems 😭

[ellieputellas]

friendly competition | alexia putellas x mapi león x reader 🔞

Your best friends Alexia and Mapi were always naturally competitive, finding every opportunity to one up each other. You just never thought pleasuring you would be their next competition.

tags / warnings: MINORS DNI, strap r!receiving, fingering r!receiving, cunnilingus r!receiving, lots of making out and fondling, minimal usage of slut, pet names, overstimulation, drunk sex, just some nice friendly competition, unedited and no proofreading done at all so there will be some errors | wc: 4k+

masterlist | please do not repost or plagiarize.

After breaking up with your boyfriend of 5 years, your best friends from college decided that they would make it their agenda to make you happy.

"Mapi, enough with the drinks, she's going to throw up if you keep making her drunk." Alexia scolded the tattooed girl who was mixing you a suspicious cocktail of Jäger and soda. 

Mapi scoffed. "She's gonna end up getting sick first cause of all the sweets you're feeding her."

Alexia rolled her eyes at Mapi.

Mapi and Alexia were competitive ever since you first met as roommates for college. They didn't like to admit it but there was always something between the two of them — a sense of friendly competition. It started off with just football but it trickled down to other things — like grades in school and party games. 

At some point, the two even started a competition of who could get the most girl's numbers at a college party, much to your dismay. You hated being in between all of it; you weren't always a fan of how competitive and intense they could be.

But today, it was working in your favor because today, their competition was on who could make you feel better faster.

"Actually, I don't want anything to drink or eat right now." You groaned, rubbing your tummy. You were starting to feel full and tipsy. "I'd kill to get my feet massaged right now though."

"Got it," Alexia said, immediately getting up from the couch to settle on the floor and take one of your feet. 

Mapi furrowed her eyebrows. "Don't let Alexia do it. She just presses random spots and thinks that's good enough."

The two bantered, both obviously tipsy as well. You chuckled and shook your head. "How do you two even know who gives the better foot rubs? You two join some weird foot massaging tournament?”

Mapi smirked as she slinked beside Alexia, grabbing your other foot. "We both liked the same girl before and we both wanted to impress her and that somehow ended up kinda like this." She recounted.

You chuckled and shook your head at the anecdote. There wasn't a single thing your two best friends did not compete over. You were just glad it was going in your favor today.

You moaned out in delight as you felt them both try hard to massage your feet. "Mmm, that's good." You laid your head back, resting it on the couch cushion.

"Well, who's better?" Alexia asked impatiently.

You sighed. "You've been massaging me for 3 seconds and you already want me to decide already. Just keep at it."

The two laughed; they knew you were taking advantage of their competitiveness but fuck it, you were just  broken up with. The least you can get off it was a foot massage.

"So, be for real, are you still upset about him?" Mapi asked, tilting her head to the side. 

You hummed to think. "Yes... and no." You responded honestly. "Yes because we were together for a really long time and I just got used to being around him. He kind of became part of my life ritual so it will be hard to move past that."

"And no because?" Alexia pressed, looking at you with a curious look.

"Also no because these past years, I've always felt like the spark completely died out." You said honestly, taking a deep breath. "I hate him for cheating on me and leaving me for some random chick he met on Call of Duty but part of me blames myself. I rarely make out with him. We only ever have sex on his birthday or when he begs for it extra, extra hard. I just wasn't a good girlfriend physically and I guess, men need that physical aspect of a relationship."

You pressed a hand on your forehead as you sighed deeply. "At least I don't have to force myself to fake an orgasm anymore while having to choke down my own vomit." You said, shaking your head at the memory of the sweaty man grunting on top of you. Why did I even try to put up with that?

The two laughed at your candidness which was mostly brought by your inebriation. "Geez, I didn't know you two were having issues like that." Alexia commented with an amused expression."You guys always looked happy."

"I saw it coming. If you're observant enough, you could see they were mostly just friends these past years. The whole romance aspect died down basically during the second year of college." Mapi interjected. "You might not have noticed it much, Ale. Considering that you’re not that observant."

Alexia looked offended. "Excuse me? If anything, I'm more observant than you are. I literally am the best listener while you mostly just yap." She argued.

You grained, feeling your head throb with the banter. “Can you guys cut it out for a moment? I just want a good foot massage and not have to hear you two bicker about who's better at what."

The two continued to massage your feet, glancing at each other to see how well the other was doing. You rolled your eyes. I really got a bunch of childish losers for my best friends, you thought.

"Mmm," You said out loud as you felt Mapi press against a pressure point with the pad of her fingers. "Oh... that feels really good."

Mapi smiled. Alexia rolled her eyes but decided to emulate Mapi and press against the same pressure point on the opposite foot.

You moaned out. "Ohhh, that feels really good. Mmm." You closed my eyes, pressing your hands flat on the surface beside you.

"This massage is giving me more pleasure than all the sex I had with him all those years combined. I can't believe a foot massage may give me my first orgasm." You attempted a joke but realized no one was chuckling with you. You blinked your eyes open to see Alexia and Mapi looking at each other knowingly.

You cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

The two had a playful smirk that irked you and left you feeling uneasy. You felt like you were being purposefully left out of an inside joke. 

"Whaaaaat? Tell me."

"I don't even know if Alexia is thinking the same thing as me." Mapi shrugged with a small smile and a playful look on her face. She glanced at Alexia who was chuckling as she shook her head.

After a pause of contemplation, Alexia leaned in to whisper something in Mapi's ear, making her chuckle. "Okay, never mind, we were thinking the same thing." Mapi confirmed, not exactly shocked that they were thinking alike.

You groaned. "Can you just tell me? This is frustrating."

The two best friends looked at each other carefully, slowing down on their foot massaging. Alexia bit her lip before saying out loud. "We wanna see who can pleasure you more." Her tone was calculated but firm.

"Pleasure?" You furrowed your eyebrows.

Mapi nodded. "Yeah, we wanna see which one of us can fuck you better." She said more bluntly. 

You widened my eyes. "Are you guys insane?" You shouted, jolting back and taking back your feet away from them. You tucked them into an indian sit."You guys better be fucking around."

The two of them were quiet and unresponsive which made you a bit nervous. Were they actually being serious?

"Guys, don't fuck around with me please. I don't like it." You whined, feeling teased by your best friends. "It's really not funny."

"To be honest... Alexia and I have been interested in you since college." Mapi responded. "We just kept a healthy distance since, well, you had a boyfriend."

You turned your attention to Alexia who nodded. "Yeah, I've wanted to bend you over and go crazy ever since I saw you undress in front of me during our first night at our dorm." Her voice was too confident and loud, obviously tipsy but it still sounded honest.

You fell speechless, blinking and trying to process what the two had just confessed. Mapi stood up and leaned over you on the couch, propping her hand beside you. "Come on, don't tell us you haven't thought of us like that before?" She asked with a suggestive tone.

You gulped. You've always known your best friends were attractive; there was a good reason for them to be so popular amongst girls. All of your friends in college basically were always asking about at least one of them. It was no question that they were both hot and had such strong sex appeal in such different ways. But, you didn't really think about it until now...

Before you could say anything, Mapi's lips found its way to your neck. You gasped as you felt her kiss the side of your neck then slowly made her way to your jaw. You tensed up at first but immediately felt your eyes flutter.

"Uh," You  moaned as you let her suck on your neck. "Mapi, wait."

She pulled away. "Tell me stop if you don't want me to go on." She said before leaning in again to kiss your neck but with more force this time. You knew you should have stopped her but it just felt too damn good. You moaned out when you felt her nibble at a sensitive part of your collarbones. All hesitation melted away and you wrapped your arms around her and let her devour you. 

"Hey, I want a turn too." You opened your eyes to see Alexia standing, towering over the two of you. You don't know what came over you but you used your left hand to grab her hand and pull her close to you.

Mapi moved over to sit on your right and to kiss that side of my neck while moving her hands to gently cup your clothed breast as Alexia leaned over you, capturing your lips with hers.

You moaned, tasting the cocktail taste lingering in her tongue as it skillfully entered your mouth. Unlike kissing your ex-boyfriend, you didn't feel like puking yourself. You wanted to kiss Alexia deeper, taste more of her, and have her hands in your body. Her tongue and lips were already against yours but you wanted to be closer. You needed her inside you, craving to be filled by your best friend's fingers.

You yelped as you felt Mapi suddenly squeeze your chest hard with her hand.

"Alexia, don't hog her." She complained.

Alexia broke your kiss. "Not my fault she wants me more," She teased as she went back to kissing you.

You pulled away after a few lip locks, deciding you also wanted a taste of Mapi. You turned your head to her, grabbing her jaw and planting your eager lips on her.

Mapi was rougher. She liked to bite and nibble. Her tongue expertly slithering into your mouth with so much fervor that you were already practically moaning from her kisses. Mapi scooped you up from her side and guided you so you ended up straddling her lap as she kissed you deeply.

You felt her hands slithering under your shirt and then under your bra. You gasped in between her kisses as she took your nipples between her fingers, pinching and twirling them. You couldn't help but grind yourself against her lap as she kissed and fondled you.

"Mapi, now, you're the one being selfish." Alexia complained.

Mapi stopped kissing you. She looked into your eyes with darkened lust before looking at Alexia and nodding. Alexia took you off of Mapi's lap before sitting down on the spot beside her. She emulated Mapi's position, propping you on top of her.

Alexia hurriedly took off your shirt and your bra. She bit her lip as she looked at your breasts. "If I had known you had boobs as cute as this, I would have ravaged you earlier." She said as she looked hungrily at your bare chest.

Before you could roll your eyes or make a snide remark, her mouth captured your right nipple. She alternated between sucking and using her tongue to flick against it. Her other hand started with the other nipple, pinching and flicking before slowly moving down to rub your core from the outside. 

You just wanted so badly for her to rip off your shorts and undies but Alexia just kept teasing you by rubbing on the outside, alternating from grazing your core to running her hands along your inner thigh.

You broke our kiss. "Ale, Ale, I want it inside, please."

Alexia looked smug. "I thought you didn't want us to pleasure you, huh?"

You groaned as you felt her draw painstakingly slow circles around your core. "Quit it. I want it now."

"Then you'll get it."

Alexia kissed you briefly before making you stand up so she could take off your bottoms. The two looked like hungry animals with the way they stared at you undress, ready to pounce and devour every bit of flesh on you. It left you shivering and wanting them more.

Alexia gestured for you to sit down on her lap, facing the opposite direction. You followed suit, turning to have your back facing her before sitting on her lap. She grabbed your breasts, moving your body closer to her torso before parting your legs. You felt exposed this way. You were spread open for Alexia to touch and Mapi to watch. 

You couldn't see Alexia but you could hear her curse under her breath as her hands made its way from your inner thigh to your dripping wet core.

"Cariño, look how wet you are for us." She said as she slowly rubbed your clit. Mapi licked her lips as she watched Alexia tease her fingers around your entrance, feeling all the folds and contours of your core.

You moaned as you felt the tips of Alexia's fingers draw wide circles around your entire core, purposefully avoiding your clit. You tried to grind against her for more but her other hand was holding your hip steady.

Mapi excused herself to go to the next room and before you could ask why, Alexia's fingers found their way to your throbbing clit and began rubbing it in circles. You moaned out.

You were wriggling quite a bit due to the sudden bouts of pressure going through your body but Alexia was able to hold you steady with her hands. "Oh, our little slut likes getting her clit played with?" Alexia teased, suddenly upping the dirty talk which just made you feel more turned on. 

You ignored her teasing and continued to focus on the way her hands touched you. "Alexia, please," You moaned. "I want you."

"Mmm," She hummed as if to think. "I'll do it if you admit you're a slut for me."

You knitted your eyebrows together. "Alexia..."

"Say it."

"Fuck," You closed your eyes shut as you felt her fingers graze against the sensitive spot of your clit. Alexia had felt you react to it and decided to tease you by playfully flicking her fingers up and down the sensitive spot. "Alexia, I'm your slut."

"Good girl." Alexia spared no time before inserting two fingers in your cunt. Given her limited position, she was mostly curling her fingers instead of thrusting in and out which just made you moan out louder each time she grazed and hit against the most sensitive areas.

"You sound so good, cariño." Alexia grunted in your ear. "I think you're wet enough to take another."

Without much time to process her statement, she inserted a third finger inside you, eliciting a loud gasp. You gyrated your hips against Alexia's hand as she continued to fuck you. The three fingers inside you were stretching you out so much and yet it felt so satisfying feeling so full like that.

You were just about to reach orgasm when Mapi re-entered the room. "My turn, Alexia." She ordered.

Alexia removed her fingers from inside you abruptly. You groaned and were about to complain. But, when you opened your eyes, you saw that Mapi has now stripped completely except for a black sports bra and a strap-on wrapped around her waist with a black harness. She had her dyed blonde hair tied up in a sleek bun, showing just how serious she was about this.

"I knew you had it with you." Alexia responded with a chuckle. "That's why I stretched her out nice and good for you. Consider it a thank you for letting me play with her cute little pussy first."

Mapi chuckled as she positioned herself in front of you. "Did Alexia make you feel good, princesa?"

You bit your lip and nodded as you watched her put lube on to the translucent silicone member attached to her.

"Well, if Alexia made you feel good, I'll make you feel better." She said with a playful tone

Alexia, who was still underneath you, chuckled at the statement but held your thighs steadily apart for Mapi, spreading them apart to make sure you were completely exposed.

Mapi slowly positioned her hips to align the silicone member in front of your cunt. Alexia took one of her hands off your leg and continued to rub your clit. You felt incredibly exposed as you moaned out, feeling your cunt grow wetter.

Mapi slowly entered. You gasped as she slowly thrusted the entire length inside, gaping you wide open. Alexia kept rubbing your core to help you take Mapi's entire length better.

"Fuck, look at that pretty pussy stretch wide around my dick." Mapi commented before tucking her lower lip between her teeth.

After a few precautionary thrusts, Mapi increased her pace. She thrust in and out of, daring to thrust out the entire length up to the head before slamming back inside of you. Alexia was still rubbing you steadily while kissing your neck and playing with your breast.

You felt overstimulated in all your parts with Mapi filling you up entirely, Alexia touching you everywhere else and the warmth of both their bodies pressed against you.

"I-I'm almost there." You said in between shaky moans. "Ale, Mapi, faster please."

The two didn't hesitate and obeyed immediately. You felt the warmth fill your entirety. Your arms, legs and even your torso began shaking with an orgasm threatening to erupt. You were moaning out so loud that you were sure you were getting a strongly worded notice from the landlord about complaints from the neighbors the next day 

"Mapi!" You moaned as Mapi slammed her entirety into you.

With a few more intense thrusts, you were completely unraveled. Ripples of pleasure  passed through your body as you unraveled into an orgasm.

Your best friends helped ride out your orgasm before fully stopping. Mapi pulled out before grabbing your face and kissing you sloppily as you both tried to catch your breaths.

"Woah." It was all you could say.

You scooted off of Alexia's lap and rested on the space beside her, melting into a puddle of pleasure and exhaustion.

"Uh, Mapi, why did you have to wear her out?" Alexia complained. "I wasn't done with her yet."

Mapi smiled smugly. "Look at her. How can I resist? You try lusting over her for years."

"Estúpida, we're on the same boat." Alexia smacked Mapi's arm. "I wanted her for just as long."

Alexia leaned in closer to you, planting gentle kisses on your cheek before whispering. "Are you all rested up? Cause it's my turn to take the spotlight."

"I don't know if I can take it." You responded honestly, still catching your breath.

"You can take it, I promise." Alexia responded as she kneeled in front of you, grabbing your feet to place on the sofa on either side of you so that you were once again exposed to her.

"Alexia, wait, I'm still raw." You whimpered

Alexia groaned. "I'll be gentle, I promise."

Mapi, who was standing as she removed the harness, rolled her eyes. "No, she won't."

"No, I promise, cariño. I'll be good." Alexia said as she moved closer to you. She leaned her head into your cunt, giving it a gentle smooch. You gasped quietly at the gentle touch.

She gave your cunt another peck before taking it inside her mouth and using her tongue to lick the slickness of your core. You moaned as you felt the flat of Alexia's tongue clean the surface of your cunt.

"Uh, Alexia." You moaned as you felt her tongue play along the folds. "Suck on me, please."

Alexia obeyed and placed a suction around your clit. She sucked and you nearly jolted out of your position. "Fuck! That's good."

Alexia looked smug as she continued to eat you out. You were moaning and grunting, focused on your pleasure until Mapi grabbed your face and proceeded to kiss you.

You moaned sloppily into her mouth as she liplocked with you as you were getting eaten out by your other best friend. You moaned against Mapi's mouth when you felt the tip of Alexia's tongue play against the small part of your clit. You moved your hips towards her and parted your lips to breathe which didn't stop Mapi from taking that as an opportunity to stick her tongue in your mouth.

You were breathless and overstimulated. You felt like the two were overcompensating for the lost pleasure they could have had if it weren't due to you being tied down to the anchor that was your ex for all these years.

You continued to gyrate your hips as Alexia kept a firm suction of your core with her mouth, still kissing Mapi deeply. You moaned loudly against Mapi's mouth when you felt the climax building. At that point, Alexia removed her face from your cunt and promptly replaced it with her hand rubbing against your and the two fingers of the other hand swiftly placed inside you, curling against your sensitive part.

You couldn't even process what happened next. You turned into a concentration of mindless pleasure that eventually exploded into a shaking orgasm.

"Woah, Mapi." Alexia exclaimed with her fingers still pumping in and out of you. You fluttered your eyes open to see Alexia smiling playfully at Mapi. "She's squirting."

You looked down and as if on cue, you squirted again. You groaned as Alexia fingered you a few more times before fully pulling out. "I never would have guessed you're a squirter." She commented.

"I guessed it." Mapi responded.

Alexia just rolled her eyes. "That doesn't matter. I made her squirt without any of your help." She retorted.

"Please, she was only cumming after I already fucked her. That orgasm was merely an aftershock." Mapi answered. "I think I won."

Alexia exhaled exasperatedly. She turned towards you. "Go on and tell Mapi I won this time."

You paused as you tried to catch your breath, darting your eyes from one best friend to the other. Alexia was good with her hands and mouth. She loved to hit particular spots that just elicited the loudest and most embarrassing noises you have ever made. On the other hand, Mapi truly fucked yoy brains out with her strap. It was rough and indulgent which you never would have thought was the type of sex you would go insane for.

You hummed. "No winners."

Alexia and Mapi exclaimed in protest loudly. You hushed the two immediately. "No winners yet. I think I need another round to get to decide who wins."

They both smiled.

"Good," Alexia said. "I can go all night until you decide I win."

"I can go all night even after you decide I win." Mapi retorted. You shook your head and chuckled at them. It was going to be a long and sleepless night.

a/n: sorry this was completely unedited! i hope u guys still liked it! pls be nice <3 requests are open (but slow and not guaranteed lol)