mygnolia · 2 months ago
Text
to weave my love ⭒ n. riki
Tumblr media
⭒ SYNOPSIS -› Riki is good at many things- dancing, making fun of his friends, playing it cool (debatable.), Hell- he’s even good at saving people from falling buildings without getting whiplash. But the things he’s bad at? Well, it’s asking you out to prom, and trying to balance the shared assignment he has with you…while being Spider-man.
⭒ PAIR -› spiderman!nishimura riki x fem-pres!reader
⭒ GENRE -› fluff, banter, action ⭒ TROPES -› classmates to lovers, idiots to lovers ⭒ WC -› 17k (i’m sorry idk why either.)
⭒ INCLUDES -› SPOILERS FOR GREAT GATSBY, cursing, non-graphic injuries (reader discretion advised), yes i made the patching up with first aid kit trope SUE ME!! takes place in a busy city similar to new york never specified, reader is rich, jake and heeseung are seniors and riki’s a junior, is riki stupid? yes… jake reveals stuff because he is also a little silly, reader wears a red dress!
⭒ GREAT GATSBY -› basically jay gatsby has this weird amt of money but no one rlly knows how he got it (nefarious reasons) and hes been in love with this girl daisy for five years but then she got married to tom buchanan but he gets rich so he can get the house across from her and wistfully watch her and he pines after her like CRAZY but he dies at the end
⭒ REN SAYS...special huge fat kiss to thena @sensitively-taken you will be in the will when im a millionaire THANK YOU for helping me with so much of this I WUV U AND I WLL BE WAITING FOR UR HUENING FIC!!! | LIBRARY
Tumblr media
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM PRE-ADULTHOOD STRESS, IF THAT’S EVEN A THING.
What exactly does Riki have to worry about as a seventeen-year-old junior in high school? Right now, his most daunting responsibility is catching up on the chapters of The Great Gatsby because the only thing Riki’s actually read from the novel is that the main character shares a name with his best friend and senior, Park Jay. His second most daunting responsibility is handling the fact that with the new seating chart in his Literature class, it means he’s sitting next to the object of his very subtle affections, you. 
See, the problem with having a crush on you is that Nishimura Riki’s committed to thinking that you’re way out of his league, and unfortunately, the boy believes that almost too well. Not only are you minted beyond his wildest dreams (having seen your posts on social media), but you’re hardworking, helpful, and dedicated to your role as student body treasurer. He’s already understood that you’d never go for a guy like him. Maybe someone more like Park Sunghoon, whose parents’ salary matches yours. If Riki lived in a rural estate with generational wealth, handling the whole ‘Spider-Man’ thing might be a bit easier for him, considering he wouldn’t have to try so hard in school. It might even change the fact that Riki dealt with some alleyway criminals last night and is currently catching up on lost sleep, as your English Literature teacher goes on and on about a project on the book you’re reading. 
In class, and even sometimes outside of the classroom, your small tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings has landed you in some awkward situations—like now. 
“I don’t really tell anyone this, but I hate Daisy.” And instead of getting a response, you glance over to see Nishimura Riki slumped on the desk. Without trying to make preconceptions about what could land him in a situation like this, you poke his arm, stifling a smile at how his eyes widen when you’ve caught him rubbing the very obvious sleep from his eye. 
“Sorry,” he whispers, still fighting the post-nap grogginess, “Did I miss anything?” 
(Nope.)
Shaking your head, you return your attention to your teacher as he continues to answer questions. The second Mr. Yoo assigned a report, you wanted to die even more considering the work you had to do on top of the impending due dates. But for it to be partnered? And for you to get seated and paired with the one boy who's known for not caring about school? Maybe things are a little stacked against you, but there has to be a reason why Riki’s somehow still passing all his classes…right?
Considering it’s the last assignment about the book, you’re glad that you already read it so many times to know what you want to put into words. And in retrospect, answering a few open-ended questions about it can’t be that hard—the hardest part would be getting your partner to stay awake in class. 
A small tap at your side makes you turn to face Riki, who you see has frantically written a page full of notes about the project in the past three minutes and how he can succeed. “Can you go over the first part? Sorry…I was…y’know.” 
“It’s a partner project. And we’re partners.” You wince at the awkward wording. 
Great! Riki was caught sleeping and that was your first impression of him for your paired assignment? Riki feels so stupid in front of you right now—in front of your meticulous notes with annotations and proper highlighting. He wants to curl up into a ball when he sees you glance over at his haphazard attempt to look like he was paying attention when, in truth, he was trying to remember the dream he had just ten minutes prior. When you offer him a small smile and nod, leaning over with your notebook in hand, he sighs in relief, thanking whoever it was that let him get away with his naps without the consequence of irritating you afterwards. 
The bell rings when Mr. Yoo stops talking, and you pause, startled by the sound. Instead of leaving, however, you pack your bag and shuffle to his side of his desk, continuing to parrot details about your report in hopes that it all makes sense. You need to make sure he knows what he’s doing. 
“I think one of the questions he mentioned was like ‘Is Gatsby a good person?’ and do you remember how in Chapter Eight…” The rest gets zoned out and forgotten in the boy’s head, because he in fact does not know what happened in Chapter Eight. He doesn’t know what happened…in any part of the book. But he agrees anyway, pretending like he understands what scene you’re trying to explain. What he notices is how thorough and dedicated you are towards ensuring he comprehends what you’re explaining, and although it could be because you don’t want him to fail you both, he chooses to believe you’re doing it because you tolerate him. 
You’re so engrossed in covering all the little details and telling him random tidbits regarding the book that you don’t realize your feet have made it all the way to the cafeteria. “But here, let me get your number. I’ll totally explain more over text.” 
Riki is definitely not freaking out when he silently grabs his phone and hands it to you with the contact page, staring a little longer than necessary at the cute smiley face you added to your name. “Thanks,” he mumbles, forcibly tearing his eyes away from the ten digits of your number, “For helping me with this, too.”
“Of course! The Great Gatsby is a fun read for me. A little hard to read sometimes because of some of the characters, but still easy to understand.” And Nishimura RIki realizes that he has to do well. He’ll read the book five times over if it means gaining your approval. 
Jake notices something a little different about the tuft of black and blonde hair when his friend walks in. The first thing is that he’s actually here, and that you’re next to him, smiling. The boy rubs his eye to make sure he’s not dreaming somehow, but when he looks up again, you’re waving goodbye and joining your friends across the room. 
“Did you get hit with something while fighting a villain that makes you more bold? I feel like I just saw you and ____ talking,” Jake starts when Riki finally joins him with his lunch. 
Riki laughs, shoving Jake’s head out of embarrassment and opening his chips. “It’s just school. Got some project in English and she says we’re partnered.” He looks over at his friend chuckling, rolling his eyes at how Jake pokes at his side and wiggles his eyebrows. 
“I better hear you two are dating by next week.” 
“Who’s dating by next week?” Heeseung places his bag of food in front of them and takes a seat, opening the fast food he got last period and stuffing a fry in his mouth. 
“Riki and ____. Let me have one,” Jake answers, reaching inside the bag. 
Heeseung looks over at his junior curiously. “You asked her out?” And the two older students hear a groan from the boy in question. 
“Me and ____ aren’t anything, for your information.” He prods at the vegetables on his tray and takes a bite before a look of displeasure washes over his face. “You’re both way too excited for two guys who do not have girlfriends.” 
“Hey! You know the girl I’m always fighting with is the reason why I’m single. I have to focus on studying to do well in school to do better than her.” Heeseung’s whining falls on deaf ears as Riki smiles victoriously, seeing how defensive the former got. 
Jake offers him a shrug of defeat. “I got nothing.”
The three of them fall into normal conversation and Riki finally explains everything that happened during English.  “So you’re telling me your plan to ask ____ out went down from 18 months to 6?” And with a nod from the younger, they both groan once more. Heeseung exclaims, “We’re both going to graduate, dumbass. Make the plan go down to like…two months? Please?” 
Jake cuts in before Riki has a chance to respond. “Make it one and a half, so we can see you with a prom date before leaving forever.” 
“You act as if you’re going to die after graduation. It’s like you’re begging to be a super senior.” 
And they’re silenced immediately. 
“Do you think the guy I was with earlier hates me?” you ask on the other side of the room. Minjeong stares at you blankly, waiting for your explanation. “I don’t know if you saw when I walked in but I was talking to this really tall guy with blonde hair and black tips. He seemed really out of it, like he kept staring at me and nodding. I think I scared him off by talking about the book too much.” 
Sunghoon, who is also listening in, opens his neatly packed lunchbox and begins mixing his noodles. “I think you did scare him off, ____.”
“Not helping,” Minjeong interjects, “Just talk to him more and maybe he’ll warm up to you. You two sit together in class anyways, so hopefully he’ll talk more?” 
“I know him,” Sunghoon comments, “Well, sort of. I’m friends with Jake who’s friends with Riki, and it seems like all that boy does is sleep.” 
“Maybe he’s really good at subconscious in-class comprehension?” you try, taking a bite of your sandwich. “I just hope it doesn’t interfere too much with treasurer stuff.” 
Tumblr media
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE IF HE SWINGS INTO ANOTHER WALL AT 100MPH LIKE HOW HE ALMOST DID TONIGHT.
All he’s had on his mind since school ended till now is how he should probably text you, if he really discarded the slimy acid monster from last week properly, and when the prom theme is going to be released, but there’s something amiss that confuses his spidey-senses and makes Riki much more alert. 
He snaps out of whatever train of thought he had before, focusing on the situation at hand and looking around to follow his instinct. Riki cautiously plants himself on the side of a random apartment building to get a sense of what's going on. A tingle of some sort of in the air permeates the material of his suit and leaves him shivering from the cold. 
He doesn't like it one bit. 
Moving to the side of the building to the top, the boy finally catches a glimpse of something when he gets a decent view of the city and highway systems. Riki knows something’s wrong with the bridge the closer he gets. He zips from one side of the tall, metal tower to the other, crawling down on all fours making sure he isn’t caught. He feels the electric feeling once more, only amplified. It runs up his spine and he wants to slap it, almost like a frantic, summertime bug. The air around him is charged with something he has never recognized before. With a puzzled expression under his mask, Riki continues to investigate the surrounding area. 
Riki finds a lone figure with some sort of attachment to his left arm, like a long glove made out of metal. The bulkiness of it seems to have no impact on his body as the man fiddles with the contraption, and the boy watches with bated breath as the machine fizzes and spurts with electricity. It begins to glow as power concentrates on his plated palm and the superhero sees it for the first time. It’s like a fizz, like a match striking at fire only to produce a quick burst of friction, but it almost feels liquid when he watches the person play with the flickering blue ball of electricity. It dances in the dark in a hauntingly beautiful way, with bolts jutting out from the metal as it spurts and buzzes with a life-like manner. 
A spark. 
“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sound of Riki’s voice from the end of the bridge causes the stranger to look up with wide eyes. Although Riki fully expects it to simply enhance strength or block damage, the immediate strike of blue that flies straight towards him is anything but defensive. With a yelp, he jumps away, this time refusing to show himself. 
What the hell was that?
He knows he should go back down there to change things and get the person and the metal pieces away before it escalates, but when he goes back down to watch, it's ten times worse. The bright blue illuminates the scarred face of the villain as he’s picked up the metal arm–but this time, it’s no longer clunky and sparking, but fused into his arm. 
Riki’s face pales at the sudden change before his body acts on its own and he shoots out a web to stop the man. 
The villain is shocked by the intrusion, but quickly yanks free from the webbing and flicks another bolt of electricity, one that flies much faster now that the metal flows into the arm instead of simply resting on the skin. It’s unlike something Riki has ever seen, something that is so controlled in motion and yet so erratic in nature, and it instills a deathly fear when it grazes his arm he hisses in pain. The sharp feeling springs Riki into action as he jumps away. He’s lucky another bolt isn’t sent his way, seeing how the villain’s too busy marveling at the power of his new gadget.
“You know that fucking hurts, right?” He yells out, cupping his wound. “Maybe leave the gadgets to the kids!”
The man scoffs. “It better have hurt. I sacrificed half my body for this to work.”
“But why?” All Riki wants is answers. Some sort of explanation.
The man charges up yet another bolt, almost like a laser gun is built into the machine. “Less talking, more running, Spiderman.” 
That scared the shit out of him. 
The boy doesn’t have time to think as he jumps out from the dark tunnel to the bridge and up the metal towers—he hates having to fight with people right below. The villain follows in pursuit, almost crumbling the metal with his engineered arm as he hoists himself quickly. Riki continues to jump between the structure to avoid the flashes, trying to get out and apprehend the man as quickly as possible. When he reaches the top, however, he feels death is near as he glances down at the villain below who’s quickly gaining on him. He shoots out webs to slow him temporarily, letting himself fall and swing from the side of the tower to escape. 
What he doesn’t see on the way across the bridge is the flash that misses his cheek and hits his thigh instead. It burns, and mid-air, Riki gives the wound a quick assessment before he lands on the metal, immediately forcing his body to climb. While dealing with his wound, he fails to notice the villain swinging from the bridge support lines to meet him. 
He needs to end this fast before he becomes burnt toast.
Riki doesn’t often rely on instinct to carry him, but he can tell that the villain he’s facing isn’t just a criminal. 
“Land another hit, would you?” he tries to say, his voice strained from the pain in his arm and leg. It doesn’t do much to deter the man in front of him as the arm continues to destroy and bend the metal on the way up. “What are you going to do now, Sparky?”
The man says nothing, charging energy into his metal glove again before aiming and focusing on the target: him. 
Riki jumps off, not able to properly land his web in the right spot as he goes from one section of the bridge to the other. The man behind him looks enraged at the boy’s attempt to escape—so much so that he reaches out with his normal hand to try to grasp the suit when Spider-Man swings past him. Instead of the feeling of fabric, the villain feels sticky spider fluid on his fingers. Riki shoots out a web, one that curls around the villain’s wrist and drags him off the tower. Instead of being able to launch him into the surrounding waters, the man slips from the poorly shot-out webs and falls from mid air into the sea of frantic cars, including one semi truck that collides directly with his arm. In the air, the boy winces when he hears honks and shouts from the impact, hoping it’s the last time he’ll have to witness it.
With his gaze trained on the falling figure, the weakly attached web breaks, and Riki all of a sudden starts falling down as well. He curls up defensively before bracing for impact, curling into himself when he feels the metal dent and the truck driver scream from outside of the parked vehicle, the body of the villain right in front of it. 
Riki staggers, holding onto his arm and thigh the best he can before getting up. With wobbly steps and a small jump, he lands near the unconscious man, whose metal arm is cracked and fizzling—something that Riki knows is bound to leave more scars. 
“Call the police. I’ll get rid of the pieces.” Although Riki wants to figure out who the criminal is and make sure he’s properly apprehended, the gashes in the boy's limbs leave him winded and exhausted. With hot metal scraps bound together by webbing in his hands, Riki swings out and dumps it somewhere rural, trying his best to cover the pieces with the pounding headache that 
Riki revisits the secluded spot under the bridge, looking for clues to the man’s identity, and his expression falls when he notices a lanyard dangling near a trash can. 
His name, his position, and the company. FLiGHT Corp. The company name caught the boy’s eye, and he pockets the item before leaving. 
It seemed like he was a normal research scientist, but Riki’s recollection of the scars and tattered skin leaves him retracting his last thought. He heard something about the failure of a time travel machine at FLiGHT, and if the mass of the incident was anything to go by, he was in the center of it. 
No matter how many times Riki tries to get it out of his head, on the way home, all he can think about is the inexperience he displayed and the lack of response he gave Riki during the whole time. But Riki can’t bring himself to really take away someone’s life—and maybe for that, he’s a horrible superhero. 
He knows he should stop the man before it's too late, and especially with how many self-proclaimed villains there have been, it's not easy to see so many innocent people ruin their lives chasing a power that inevitably consumes them. He knows it’ll only get worse if he lets them run free.
And while the superhero has never been fully honest with himself, there are many times where Riki hates his role as Spider-Man, and wishes that he was just some teenage boy who didn't have the lives of others in his palm. He wishes he didn't have to sacrifice so much to stay behind a mask—and he wonders deep down if there’s anyone else who felt the same. 
His swings lead him across the city above hundreds of lives he has to protect, and he tries to find some semblance of peace. He thinks about how he has his homework due despite having just risked his life, he thinks about how your project is going—and about you. 
In the night under the stars, Nishimura Riki wishes for something just a bit normal. He wishes a good night for himself, but also for you, wherever you could be.
Tumblr media
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM TRYING TO READ THIS BOOK IN ONE NIGHT.
The Great Gatsby is exactly like how you described it; a little hard to get through but fun with the plot’s eccentric characters. He’s pretty sure he could’ve just used a detailed SparkNotes explanation for the book, but having a crush can make someone do weird things. And in Nishimura Riki’s case, his infatuation has got him reading a novel about morally-skewed characters and rich society to impress you. 
When you come into class barely on time, Riki gives you a confused look when you sit down, but doesn’t comment on it any further. Instead, he takes out his book and tries to act like his eyes weren’t closing shut from exhaustion by the time Daisy was finally confessing how she loved Gatsby. 
The moment Mr. Yoo stops talking, however, Riki isn’t asleep—much to your surprise. He has his book out, pages filled with sticky notes and a whole section of his notebook dedicated to characters (written in bright red to keep him awake) and their traits. 
“I got it.” It’s the first thing he says when you two are left to do in-class work. It’s ominous, and maybe a little too enthusiastic in a high school literature class for a boy who doesn’t even care that much for school, but you’ll accept it with open arms if it means you get a helping hand on your project. 
“Continue,” you tell him slowly, leaning back in your chair to listen to him. And you don’t know why, but a small part of you thinks that the boy who sleeps every period the book was discussed wouldn’t have much to say or contribute to such an open-ended prompt, but life is full of surprises. 
What you fail to notice is how Riki is nervous and his stomach does at least twenty flips before he swallows dryly and starts rambling in hopes to impress you and redeem himself from his embarrassing slumber a few days ago. 
“So you know how our prompt is based on one character and basically all their actions?” he asks, and you nod, absentmindedly thumbing a sheet in your journal. “I’m thinking we should talk about Jay Gatsby because so much is revealed to us about him that we might as well use it to our advantage. Y’know, talking about how the theme of exploitation and secrets is veiled under Gatsby’s desire for Daisy.”
“You don’t think Gatsby’s a good character?” Riki wants to tell you that Gatsby is more relatable than good or bad, but he shakes his head. 
“I mean, not really.” He feels like with those four words, he’s completely changed the trajectory of his relationship with you from a positive slope to completely downhill—and a wave of panic washes over him. “Should I? I mean, I could see him as more redeemable if you gave me examp-“
You wave your hand to quell his worries. “To be honest, I don’t like him either. But he’s an interesting main character to write about, so I think we should go with your idea.” 
To win your approval feels like he’s won at least three fights against a villain in a row without getting any bad injuries—it feels good. And for the rest of the period, you are able to finish a detailed outline of your work for the next few weeks, mapping out sections for each other, and he even gets to see a part of prom planning on a word document you had open. He considers your shared productivity a win when he packs up and bids you goodbye before leaving for lunch. 
One wave doesn’t catch Riki’s attention from across the room. Not even two, or three calls of his name could get Nishimura Riki out of his thoughts, and Jake frowns before moving up in the lunch line. 
“Something’s caught your eye again.” Jake feigns innocence and sighs dramatically as he places the food down next to Riki’s plate. “Could it possibly be our school treasurer?” Jake laughs, leaning over to catch a glimpse of what’s got his friend so entranced and non-responsive.
Riki scrunches his nose, annoyed, but never breaking his gaze from where you’re sitting. “We talked in class–like, a lot,” is all he says, paying his friend no mind. “She’s genuinely so understanding.”
“God, I don’t think you can be any more down bad for her than you are right now.” Jake picks at his food, and despite his concentration directed towards the olives on his pizza, he’s able to dodge the flying loaded nacho that goes his way, even if he wasn’t the one with superpowers.
“Can you shut up?” Riki grumbles, laying his head on his arms as he notices you smile and point to something. “I just got pummeled into a semi truck last week. Let me have this before I die tomorrow.” 
“Very grim,” his friend notes, ruffling the younger’s hair, “I think this is exactly what all of those mental health assemblies that we get are for.” And Riki basically tunes him out, too tired to fight and too used to the teasing remarks to come up with anything useful in response. 
Riki sits up a bit, letting his head rest on his propped elbow as he looks at the school food and touches another nacho gingerly. “Y’know, I read the book for English so she wouldn’t think I’m an idiot.” 
His friend snickers, successfully pulling out yet another sliced olive from the cheese, much to the disgust of Riki. “She probably already thinks you’re an idiot.” 
The superhero debates throwing another cheesy nacho in Jake's face, before deciding to eat it instead. “Don’t say that asshole! You make it seem like I have no chance with her.” 
Jake shoots him an exasperated look that makes Riki break eye contact. “That’s because you don’t.” 
“I’ll prove to her that I’m worth her time.” Riki says somewhat wistfully, still stealing glances from a few tables away. “Maybe I’ll ask her out to prom, show up in my suit. Do that cheesy upside down kiss shit people say Spiderman does.” When his friend raises an eyebrow at him, Riki shrugs. “I will! Well-maybe not the Spider-Man thing, but prom definitely.” 
Jake continues to look at him unconvinced as he takes a bite out of a slice of pizza with mangled cheese. “You barely talk to her in class and you think you can ask her out to prom as Nishimura Riki?” And the younger grins, eyes still stuck on how your eyes crinkle and how your shoulders shake with laughter. 
“Yup.” And his fate is sealed, just like that.
“What’s your project about, anyways? Didn’t you tell me last night that she gave you her number? Must be pretty serious if she wants to text you.” Riki furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head. 
“It’s just tying the theme of the book to one character and writing about how they show it. So we did the theme of money and Gatsby, because it’s easy and mentioned so many times.” 
Jake gawks. “You must really like her,”
“I was planning to read it regardless of who I was partnered with.” 
“Okay- that’s debatable.” There goes another one of Riki’s nachos.
“Gross.” 
He thinks things are going pretty well for you two. The report is being written and your quotes are basically finding themselves, so Riki should give himself a pat on the back for pitching the initial idea for how to go about your assignment. Maybe reading the whole book offered him a few useful pointers, and he goes to sleep that night satisfied with your progress. Maybe Heeseung and Jake were right—maybe he could finally ask you out by prom. 
Tumblr media
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO SAVE THE CITY FROM YET ANOTHER MONSTER TERRORIZING THE STREETS.
He wakes up the next morning, not expecting his alarm to alert his senses to danger. It rings in his head and makes him feel delirious, trying to shake sleep off as he looks out the window for any visible sign of what's wrong. If he could hear the danger in his head then that meant someone could be hurt, and he could go to school without a few hours of sleep if he worked fast enough, right? 
Riki slips into his suit without much thought and goes to crack his window open, only to look back at his clock and read the horrific time of 6:23AM. 
Who the hell picks a fight with a teenager at this ungodly time? 
Then, he shoots from his wrists, once, twice, and suddenly, he's off, covering more ground through the air in just three seconds than he ever could while walking or running for minutes on end.
The source of his tingling spidey-sense is some large metal centipede creature that was setting off car alarms in a neighborhood near the market. Thankfully, no one was really awake to be caught in the crossfire, but he has to figure out how the hell he's going to catch that thing in...he checks his watch…twenty minutes? 
Hopefully, his instinct will help him win this time—again. 
The web he shoots out does nothing to stop the monster, and considering how it connected them both, the threads only drag the superhero to the edge of the building he was initially watching from. With some yelling and pulling, he finally detaches, and realizes that the odd sizzling feeling in his bonds must be from the same source as a few days ago; Spark. 
He had this gut feeling that a villain as strong as him wouldn’t have been destroyed so easily, but his wounds were so deep and the blood loss so bad from a few nights ago that he couldn’t have truly dumped him in the ocean without fainting or suffering something permanent, and although Riki hoped things in the universe would work itself out, the presence of the giant fifty foot insect alone is proof that things were not in his favor. 
He jumps off the building onto another, working quickly as he strings up a few webs between the houses as a wall for the monster, watching it slide and knock over cars in its wild pursuit. The monster spends a few seconds breaking down the wall of webbing and climbing over it, the many legs easily breaking through. As the superhero jumps across buildings and keeps track of the centipede’s movement, he has no idea why it isn’t going for him, and that makes his job much harder without the attention of the monster. One glance at the direction the centipede is headed in sets off another ding in Riki’s head—but this time, it finally clicks why the centipede is headed away from the boy. 
It’s attracted to the power plant. 
Riki immediately jumps and swings off of a lamp post, using the momentum of gravity and the force of his swing to propel him faster than the slithering creature. Squinting, he holds out his fist and points his pointer and pinky out, following the movement of the centipede as he aims. 
Bam. 
He sends clusters of silky white threads down precisely at the first pair of legs to pin it down. The webs stop the creature momentarily, and Riki doesn’t have time to watch how the body shrinks up and fizzes out with blue shocks as it tries to wiggle loose and malfunctions. This fight would be over soon, and the boy smiles when he jumps down to shoot more webs to apprehend the centipede. It wiggles and sends electricity out through parts of its body, trying to pry itself out. He expects it to simply be a robot of sorts following a mission considering its avoidant behavior, but as he approaches the tail, the monster suddenly swings at Riki, and its mass and speed is incomparable to the boy’s reaction speed. 
Riki lands into a tree and someone’s garage, feeling the crumbling wall falling all over him and the sudden pain blooming in his lower back. 
This fight will, in fact, not be over soon. 
With his superhuman abilities, Riki grabs onto the metal of the car beside him to hoist himself up, coughing from the dust, and jumping over the rubble to see how quickly the centipede creature can get out, without regard for his current state. The sound and rumble of the giant monster is all he needs to know that the traps are effective, but not at the previous capacity. 
The plan is simple: apprehend the legs and crush the head, where Riki assumes the decision-making and programming is taking place. But the monster’s angry and erratic actions throw a wrench in his plan. Its legs move faster, digging into the cement and leaving ruin in its wake as it continues down the road. While both the villain and superhero are fast, the distance between the power plant is finite—and only grows smaller and smaller.  
Although Riki can feel the bruises coming, he runs and swings, hearing the wind in his ears as he catches up to the centipede in no time. He tries the same tactics again–aim, shoot, stick, all the while keeping his distance. Although the monster’s body spans incredibly long, and should carry an immense amount of weight, the way it snaps at Riki’s flying body and sends shockwaves through his core leaves him shivering as his body slams into the ground, coughing. It hurts all over, and it feels like there’s weight on his eyes when he tries to open them and get up. His head is spinning as he staggers onto his knees, clutching his chest as he watches the centipede shrivel and crackle. 
It seems like the voltage produced is a double-ended sword, one that burns up the centipede body as much as it deals damage, and with the way the mutant creeps towards the electricity of the plant, Riki gets the feeling there’s a magnetic pull that forces the mutant to continue to crawl even against its instinct to stop. 
Despite his waning strength, however, Riki knows better than to half finish the job like last time. He creates a net from experience, weaving together the thickest and most durable threads to trap the entirety of the slowly approaching creature. It seems to crawl slowly up the makeshift barrier, knocking its head against the white and spreading the bright blue waves of its energy throughout. The boy watches as the thin white mass absorbs all of it and clings to the creature. It works, finally, after his attempts to nullify its movements, and he knows that despite the ache in his every step, the almost mummified centipede that hangs between several roofs for all the neighbors to gawk at is his sure sign of victory. 
All he remembers is hearing a familiar call of his hero name before his legs give out and his head hits Jake’s chest. 
Holy fucking shit is the first thing Riki thinks when he wakes up. 
He’s not out of his tattered suit and he feels grimy all over, but his body has done wonders in reducing the otherwise fatal injuries he got. No human body should be able to withstand two energy-filled blasts, but his suit and superhuman healing are of greater help than ever in alleviating the damage from his wounds. 
He knows why he’s in his bed with bandages thrown over his open wounds. He knows that every time something like this happens, it’s Jake who shoos away the concerned civilians, telling them he’s a medic. Jake is not a medic—rather, he’s a seventeen year-old boy who knows about his friend’s double life and with all the times he’s saved Riki, someone might as well dub him the greatest medic of all time. 
The clock on his bedside table has only served as a bearer of bad news. He looks over to see how it’s practically midday, and he’s missed yet another day of school from fighting crime. He’s in no condition to get up or get his bag, seeing how his hair is frizzy and his cheek has a cut that would warrant questioning. It seems only fair that he stays absent, and before he falls back asleep, he only prays you aren’t too mad at him for leaving the seat next to you empty.
But you aren’t mad, just worried. The soreness in his muscles doesn’t go away though, and he groans when he sits up in his bed, with bandages around his arms and an ice pack discarded next to him. 
He’s most definitely not coming to school like this. 
While you bore holes into the clock hanging off the wall, that doesn’t speed up the time. Two minutes pass, then another minute. As your classmates find their partners and begin discussing, you notice how the room gets louder with the due date looming near. It’s the first time you’re alone without the familiar boy beside you, and something hangs low in your chest when you put in a pair of earphones and open your laptop. 
Riki’s absence should have no effect on you. After all, you’re both just high school students who’ve talked once or twice, and yet you still look over at the empty chair. Staring doesn’t make Riki appear, though, and you return to your edits. It feels empty without his insight, or without him asking you to help him with a passage. Riki was your solution to all things boring. If he wasn’t doing his work, then you two were laughing at something on his phone. And if you agreed to both do something other than the report, then you could ask for an extra opinion when deciding prom details. There was something freeing about working with him that attracted you. Riki knew how to lighten the mood on days that weren’t so good for you, but he also worked hard and let loose at the same time. There was a perfect balance in Riki’s life that you aspired to have; it was a good mix of playful, dedicated, and fun all in the same vein. 
The words blend together on your screen. Jay Gatsby this, Tom Buchanan that, it all looks monotonous the more you keep trying to read and comprehend what exactly you’re talking about. 
Before class is dismissed, Mr. Yoo steps to the front of the classroom to gather everyone’s attention. He introduces your new novel for the next month, explaining yet another large assignment associated with the text. 
Truth be told, you don’t pay attention to any of it. 
The only thing you remember to do is to grab extra copies of the printed graphic organizers, as you get out of your seat and rush out when class ends in pursuit of one specific boy. 
“Sim Jaeyun!” The call of his name diverts Jake’s attention from his phone to your waving arm as you weave through the students and finally reach him. 
“You can just call me Jake,” he explains, “what’s up?” 
You begin to reach into your backpack, trying to feel for your folder, and pull out a few sheets. “These are for Riki.” 
Jake cheers internally for his friend who’s busy recovering at home. “What, you got a crush on him or something?” 
He tries to play it cool by teasing you, but the smile you bite back leaves the boy questioning if there really is anything going on. Jake knows better than to tell you anything about Riki’s feelings, and opts to instead grab the papers and to thank you for looking out for his friend. 
“Is Riki okay?” You have to know, just to make sure he’ll be here tomorrow to cure your boredom. 
What Jake says is much different than the nonchalant wave and half grin he gives you. “He’s just bedridden.” 
“That’s pretty serious! Did he come down with anything?” He seemed fine yesterday, so what’s the catch?
He blurts, “He just got badly hurt.” 
Immediately, Jake knows he’s fucked up. 
Your confusion and silence answers him far more than words ever could–he basically hears the gears turning slowly in your head.
Jake weakly defends, “His parents had a fight with him because he hit his head or something. He’ll be fine by tomorrow. Just bedridden from sadness, y’know?” 
The look you give him is unconvinced, but when Heeseung pats him on the shoulder and waves to you, the boy realizes that maybe staying quiet would’ve been the better decision. 
“I’ll see you later, ____.” And he’s off, waving half-heartedly and dragging a very confused Heeseung out of the cafeteria. 
Tumblr media
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO WAKE YOU UP AS GENTLY AS HE CAN.
Ever since March started and flowers began to bloom, your energy seemed to do the opposite, dwindling until Riki catches you mirroring his frequent in-class action: sleeping. And it worries him beyond belief, because you’re not the type to fall asleep like… ever. However, Riki does not have the heart to wake you up, even if it’s with a little nudge that you probably barely feel with how light he taps. It breaks his heart to have to ask you to review what he has done, because the bell is about to ring and the teacher might just send you to detention if he catches you off-task. 
The allergies always make Mr. Yoo irritable, and Riki knows not to get on his nerves. 
Your eyes flutter open to the pokes and prodding from none other than Nishimura Riki, who gazes at you softly when you adjust to the bright classroom setting once more. 
Panic settles in. “Wait- how long was I sleeping for?” 
He shrugs and scrunches his nose, not giving you an answer as he finishes scribbling something in his notebook. 
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Your hand squeezes into a fist at the frustration that you’ve let your partner down. 
And yet, Riki seems to be unfazed, frowning when he sees you stressing out. “Don’t ever sweat the little things, yeah? If there’s anything you ever need to talk about–trust me, I know what it’s like to have a lot of pressure on your shoulders.”
Smiling at him, you respond with, “Thank you, really.” 
Being treasurer is daunting in the spring. It’s full of requests, forms, and small tasks that leave you spent by the end of the day. “But,” you glance at the clock to see just how much time is left, “how’d you know?” 
He motions to your open computer with a now dark screen. “I saw your document pulled up. ____’s tasks or else she will be kicked out of student government,” he taunts, snickering when your eyes grow wide with embarrassment and you lightly nudge his shin with your foot in warning. 
“It’s not polite to snoop,” and although you say that, you catch something in your peripheral vision. It’s a few drawings of a figure and gadget drawn, shaded from rigid shapes with small descriptions pointing to different places. You weren’t sure what was more surprising; how good the drawings were, or the subject of his imagination. 
Weird. Inherently, there was nothing wrong with Riki drawing a villain, and you chalked it up to him being creative. Nothing more, nothing less. 
He puts his hands up in surrender at your last comment, his grin showing anything but. Just one look at the boy makes you realize that everything you’ve just thought about is foolish. 
There’s no way he’d have time to be a villain and a student. With one final thought, you let your raging thoughts rest and focus on the present; him. You’ve seen his hair messy, especially after his naps, but when Riki tries to style it like how he did today, you pay more attention to the streaks of blonde and how he often hides behind his bangs and scrunches his nose. It’s cute. He’s cute.
The truth is, you enjoy being around him like this, joking around and never worrying too much about your responsibilities and expectations. It’s refreshing. Being around Riki gives you the feeling that things will be okay in the end. 
You snap out of your thoughts to see that his desk is empty, while your’s hasn’t changed one bit.
“You’re going to sell prom tickets now, right?” He makes small talk before leaving for lunch, closing the notebook you were suspiciously eying before slipping it into his bag. 
“Yup,” you answer, popping the ‘p,’ “I’ll see you later,” and you two part ways.
All the long lines and constant distribution of change doesn’t allow much wiggle room for you to daydream. As time goes on, the ticket-selling line grows smaller and smaller, but the only thing you truly care about is eating the lunch your parents packed you. Your sandwich is probably sad and soggy now that there are only a few minutes of lunch left. When you finally sign off one last time after triple checking the forms are all correct, you let out a sigh, leaning back and finally getting a break. 
Then, it hits you that you’re not even sure if the boy you’re fawning over is attending the biggest event of the year, and you feel stupid for forgetting to ask. 
-
Yesterday was a rookie’s mistake–today, you’d make sure you get an answer from him.
“Are you going to prom, Riki?” is the first thing you ask when he sits down, grabbing his book and laptop with a little too much enthusiasm. 
“I’m thinking about it.” Yeah, whatever confidence he had when convincing himself he’d ask you out isn’t serving him well at this moment. Quite frankly, Riki feels lame as ever trying to be nonchalant around you. “You?” 
“I’d have to set up, so I would be there, yes. But whether or not I have a date is another story.” You smile to lighten the mood, but Riki watches you and nods, focusing back on signing into his laptop and getting his notes for the new book you’re reading. 
“Well, you’re not the only single one here.” And he wants to reprimand himself for saying something without thinking. “If someone asked, would you say yes?”
You think about it carefully, really because you don’t have anyone in mind when it comes to prom if Riki’s not planning on going. “It’d have to be someone I know—someone I talk to somewhat regularly. I’d be nice to be with someone who doesn’t make it awkward.”
Nishimura Riki might die from over-thinking if he keeps on wondering whether or not he fits that description to a tee.
RIKI'S TO-DO LIST BEFORE PROM
☐  talk to ____ regularly 
☐  don't make it awkward 
☐  be..cute? 
The boy decides that his superhuman responsibilities might be easier to complete than any of those three things. 
He switches the subject to stop his head from hurting too much. “Did you finish the report?” 
You still, and Riki’s question reminds you of the report looming over your head. In your defense, you two hadn’t brought it up much in the past week, and he didn’t seem to worry over how much of your time was spent emailing teachers or making spreadsheets. Although caught off guard, you’re quick to respond with, “What did we have to finish? I thought we were done since last week, but if there’s anything else-” 
“Sorry,” he rushes out, biting his lip, “I meant, if you finished reading it.” And the answer is no, you haven’t read it since your last edit on it three days ago. 
Within a few clicks, you find the document and scroll to the bottom, seeing the small note that Riki left that said ‘let me know how it looks.’ It’s sweet to know he thought about your input as much as you did his. 
“While some can agree that Gatsby’s rise into high society was sketchy, Gatsby still retains the same reserved character from years ago, and doesn’t manipulate others into success or use his money for nefarious purposes. It’s not like he changed after his wealth, and it could be argued Gatsby loved Daisy until his last breath and was willing to die as long as she was happy, emphasizing the theme of sacrifice. 
So, is Jay Gatsby a good person? The question targets the morality of a character who many can empathize with. Those who are charmed by his overwhelming love for Daisy would say that he’s committed textbook crimes, but focus more on the intent behind it. To pine after someone from a distance isn’t easy, but to pursue her after years of separation is even harder. It’s universally agreed, however, that love as a driving force doesn’t nullify what he’s done to others and the dirty schemes he’s enacted to gain the power he has. Therefore, Gatsby makes for an interesting main character, and highlights just how twisted a system around money can be.” 
The last page is–for the most part–his writing, and your admiration for him grows when you finish reading and scroll to hit your Works Cited page.
“It’s good,” you tell him wholeheartedly, “Didn’t think you had it in you.” 
Riki cracks a smile at your light teasing, soaking up your praise. 
“Now you know.” He shrugs. And he can only hope that you like him as much as you like his literary skills. 
Tumblr media
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE COMES TO THE REALIZATION THAT HE IS EXACTLY LIKE JAY GATSBY,JUST WITHOUT THE MONEY—DESPERATE FOR THE GIRL OF HIS DREAMS, DYING YOUNG, AND A FRAUD HIDING BEHIND SECRETS.
Nevermind the last one, he has to hide when he has an identity to protect as the city’s only superhero, but Riki feels his heart sink to his heels when he read a few weeks ago how much Gatsby simply adores Daisy. When Gatsby died, he scoffed, closing the book with a sudden disinterest. If he were the male lead, he wouldn’t have been laying in a pool for target practice. Maybe being a superhero teaches you how to avoid being easy bait for all your enemies, or maybe Gatsby was too carried away with love to think straight. 
Fighting crime gives you insurmountable experience with sneaking around, but it wasn’t something he could just teach to anyone. When he gets this horrible gut feeling that something’s happened to you, he just knew something was wrong. He might not be easy to catch, but for anyone else? Definitely.  
For everyone else, prom was a month away, but for you, it was three weeks of talking to your advisor and president, arguing with your other board members, and sitting behind that damn money box for another five days to sell tickets. For you, it was realizing that you were supposed to buy streamers and balloons yesterday on your way home from school. It was the thinly veiled disappointment in your board member’s texts when they told you they were at a loss for words. ‘I’m sorry, and I know you’re busy, but how could you forget? Prom is so important for all of us. What if they don’t have what you need anymore?’ It all repeated in your head as you bit your lip in frustration and slipped on the first pair of shoes you could find. Although it was dark and dangerous, you could care less if it meant avoiding the passive aggressive comments you’d get tomorrow during your meeting.
There it is again: that little tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings. 
You yelp when you feel someone grabbing your wrist and pulling you in, muffling your screams as he pulls you along. To see him on the news was worrying, but to see Spark in person with your life on the line is even worse. 
Tears spring to your eyes as you struggle against the metal to no avail, and you curse every previous moment you spent worrying about balloons rather than your safety.
Spark suddenly stops, shoving you against the wall before his hand grabs a brick with his metal arm, beginning to climb. “Don’t let go.” And you don’t think twice before holding on.
The city view would be beautiful if you weren’t hearing your heartbeat in your ears or if you weren’t dangling from the railing of some company building, trying to wiggle yourself free of the rope around your wrists. 
Spark speaks up, drumming his fingers on the railing next to you. “You wouldn’t happen to know where your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is, would you?” And you furrow your eyebrows, genuinely questioning for a moment if he really knew how the superhero operated. 
A voice from across the street puts a temporary hold on your thoughts, and you glance up to see a flash of blue and red soaring through the air, followed by a groan and a beam of light next to you. Seeing Spark’s powers right in front of you spurs you into action, yanking at the rope and trying to take tiny steps away from where they were fighting.
“From what I’m seeing, you wanted to hold someone hostage because you’re not feeling too good, huh?” Spider-Man shouts as he shoots out webs and blocks hits. You shake your head in partial disbelief of how unserious he is, but also how unbelievable all of this seems. “You tried to take a potion or something? I’m going to tell you this now, but these usually don’t work.” 
Riki’s assumption is right, and considering how Spark now has a leg and arm from metal instead of just the arm, the procedure for the additional limb couldn’t have been easy. The superhero still proceeds with caution, making sure to pay attention to anything new as he dodges and fights back. 
The villain immediately gets back up, stumbling for a moment before he regains his stance and runs towards the boy. You hear the clanging of fist hitting metal from their fight, and considering the difference in height and build, you’d expect Spider-Man to be easily flung to the side, but he holds his weight in battle. 
Riki aims for around the left shoulder, where an abundance of stitches cover the skin and fuse the metal into muscle. He lands a hit, and almost another one, before a punch to the side knocks him from his momentum. The boy wheezes when his back makes instant contact with the ground, rolling and getting up before Spark has time to shoot. 
He notices how quickly the gadget generates electricity now. Before, the beams took longer, and were easily predictable, but now, it glows bright for a moment before it fires directly in Riki’s path. The boy dodges the first, but the second one almost hits the top of his head before he ducks and creates distance. 
From the roof-top, Riki scans his surroundings before making the split-second decision to jump. 
He swings to the other side of the building, keeping you in his peripheral vision as he works on apprehending the villain in front of him. They spring into yet another fist fight, with Riki’s agility easily letting him avoid punches and land precise hits to make the previous injuries even worse. 
You think Spider-Man has the upper hand in this, seeing as how none of Spark’s punches seem to slow down the superhero, but you hear something loud before you can register it. 
You figure out what happened after Riki stumbles and suffers a blow to the stomach, sending him tumbling to the edge of the building. Spark knew that Spider-Man was avoiding his left arm—he knew that one wrong move paired with the tungsten material would have a lasting effect on the superhero’s fist. 
Riki coughs from the impact before his spidey-sense rings, pulling him back into battle as he runs as fast as his body can take him. 
You. He still needs to save you. 
With renewed vigor, he continues to avoid the flying sparks as he ducks between structures and uses the terrain to his advantage. He can tell, though, that the villain is slowing down. The shots are less accurate–a telltale sign that the enhancer Spark tried is working against him. 
Between all of the chaos, Riki finally lands a proper web, yanking as hard as he can to pull Spark to the ground. He stumbles, grasping at thin silk before Riki lets go on his side. The villain’s balance is off, giving the boy an advantage as he closes the distance, hopping over a thrown slab of metal and landing a solid kick into Spark’s ribcage. As he stays down, Riki continues to aim for muscle and flesh, his head spinning as he packs punch after punch to keep the villain apprehended. 
Spark’s body–curled into itself to absorb the hits the best that he can– hides the growing blue flash that he’s slowly charging up with his remaining power. The moment it escapes from under his abdomen, Riki directs his efforts towards avoiding the electric glimmer. The villain rolls over, his body tattered from the consistent injuries, and he fires what seems like an intense bullet of energy. It zips by the boy’s cheek, cutting the mask and leaving blood to run down in its wake. Time slows down as the superhero tries to process the unlocked speed of the burst, and Spark loses focus marveling at his new abilities. Never before had either of them seen power so concentrated, and it inflicts both fear and excitement. 
He lifts his arm, the other holding it up for support, and Spider-Man notices the fizzle of bright blue. Riki’s about to jump out of the way, preparing for yet another high-speed bullet, but before Spark fires, something clicks. The arm doesn’t directly point to Riki–but it skews off to the right.
Except, he’s no longer aiming for Riki in the split second that the boy blinks. He’s suddenly aiming at you, where your hands are tied to the railing and your feet are dangling from the bent metal that holds you precariously over the edge, leaving a fifty foot drop in its wake. When you see the blue energy in the villain’s palm growing slowly bigger, you pull at the rope desperately with zero regard to the tender rawness of your wrists. 
In your attempt to somehow break the rope, your cry of fear snaps Spider-Man into action. 
Riki pushes his sore body to jump as quick as he can, leaping across the rooftop to the building over. He easily avoids the metal railing, grabbing onto your arm as he yanks hard on the rope, the force of it separating a piece of metal from the railing. He immediately jumps, sending out a web to swing him back up. It all happens in a flash–first, you were bound to the edge about to fall to your death, and all of a sudden, you’re tightly pressed against Spider-Man’s chest with your bound wrists still attached to the metal. Shutting your eyes, you trust Spider-Man entirely, closing your eyes to avoid seeing just how far up you were. Wind rushes in your ears and leaves your stomach fluttering with butterflies until the superhero sets you down on a secluded rooftop. 
“Please,” he begs, “don’t leave. I’ll be right back.” 
You’d be a fool to do anything but wait. 
Riki checks on you one last time before diving down, springing himself back up with another web. The damage from the blasts is recognizable even from far away, and yet, he notices the reflective shine of a metal arm on the edge of the building before Spark lets go. 
To Riki, Spark is dead after dropping from a fall having taken that much damage, but he hears no impact. Making haste, the boy fails to find any figure no matter how hard he looks, but Spark’s laboratory has to be here somewhere. The badge from a week ago was stuck on Riki’s mind, and he could only imagine the reasons why he pursued this life. Was he recreating something? If he needs to power some sort of machine, then the heart of the city is a perfect place to harness the electricity for any large scale project. As much as he wants to dedicate the rest of the night to searching the city for some sort of clue, the fact that you’re still stranded on that rooftop after having just experienced a life-changing event blares like an alarm in his mind. 
He quickly leaves, returning to where you’re seated.
Without the fear of falling to your death from earlier, you were able to focus on undoing the knots from the rope. Red scratch marks and irritation bloom on your wrist, and the reality of it all happening still hasn’t settled in. Despite not being harmed once, the fear and incessant pounding of your heart overwhelms your senses, and it leaves you heaving with confusion. 
A pair of footsteps only become apparent as Riki walks closer, taking a seat beside you and letting out a large sigh. He stares at the stars silently as if he doesn’t have a cut on his cheek and bruises waiting to paint his skin purple–as if he isn’t hiding his true self under a facade. 
“You’re not hurt, are you?” You shake your head, grateful that Spider-Man was the reason you got away without a real injury.
“Thank you, really, for saving me. I don’t know how you manage to do it.” 
Riki chuckles under the mask. “Eh, you get used to it,” you hear Spider-Man say. “You fight a couple bad guys, get over a fear of heights and eventually you get the hang of things.” 
Scoffing, you gently rub at your wrists to ease the redness. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t been taught a crash course on how to avoid being supervillain bait just yet.” 
“Maybe you should learn it sometime,” Riki responds absentmindedly, “someone like you shouldn’t have been out so late doing whatever it could’ve been.” 
Sighing, your mind drifts off to think about the balloons and streamers that are not in your hand. “I had stuff for my upcoming events.” 
He knew about all of it when you’d explain your cryptic reminders and notes on your computer, but he still feigns curiosity. “What upcoming events?” 
“Just prom,” and he hears just how strained it makes you. 
Riki tilts his head in faux confusion. “What do you have to do for prom?” 
He notices how you immediately slump, as if the mere mention of prom deflates your happiness. “It’s only a few weeks away, and I was supposed to get decorations for our venue yesterday. I just wanted to slip out before my parents noticed.” 
Despite the fabric over his eyes, Riki’s expression shifts from surprise to pity when he understands your stakes. “You still need to be careful. Is your student council strict?” 
“Not strict necessarily, but judgemental–I ran for the position because I thought I could help my school raise funds and find more opportunities, but it just feels like no one truly wants to try anything new.” You wave it off as if it’s not that important, as if it isn’t the reason why you find yourself stressed so often. “I just don’t want to disappoint or give people something to talk about.” 
Despite not being involved with school the same way you are, the boy next to you resonates with the fear you currently face. The fear of letting people down was a large part of why Riki continued to put on that mask and step into the most dangerous situation of his life; he never wanted to sit down to hear the news that Spider-Man quit. 
So he keeps doing his job, even if some days are harder and some fights aren’t worth winning–just like what you do. 
“Yeah, I get that,” he tries to console, “You must be doing a lot for everyone around you, and I’m sure a lot of people appreciate what you’ve done. Don’t beat yourself up too much, yeah? You’ll always have me.” He smiles, but he knows you don’t see it. You’re looking at the stars, trying to calm your mind and return to your life before everything happened. 
You glance over at Spider-Man, wondering if he’ll truly be around for you when you need it. “If I need to talk to you, should I step out of my house past 8PM again?” 
Riki chuckles, watching clouds slowly dim the moon’s glow in their path. “If I’m not fighting crime, I’ll show up at a moment’s notice.” 
There’s no way he means it, but you grin, feeling a lot of the pressure and stress of earlier slowly wash away. After all, nothing happened to you–Spider-Man made sure of it. Maybe things really were going to be okay. 
“Let’s get you home, yeah? Don’t you have stuff to do anyways?” 
You shrug, nothing really coming to mind. As you get up, you remember having to run a plagiarism check on your work, and how Riki told you to text him when you got home after your student government meeting. 
Riki. Spark. Spider-Man. 
“Wait,” you tell Spider-Man, sitting back down on the cement, “I need to talk to you about something else, too.” 
“It’s not like my dinner’s getting cold,” the superhero mumbles quiet enough that you can’t hear. 
“There’s this guy,” you start, paying no mind to how dirty your clothes are getting when you cross your legs. 
Spider-Man scoffs, looking off into the distance, and it makes you believe he has to be your age or older. “You have a crush on him, or something?” And a whole tidal wave of deja vu hits you in the chest. 
‘He must be badly hurt’ isn’t just something people say. People don’t just draw insanely detailed drawings of Spark’s arm and machines without notes to follow unless they knew. People wouldn't just randomly miss school without any impending signs. You’re sure of it–the tired naps in class, the random drawings of superheroes and superhumans alike, or how awkward he could act–it all makes sense.
Your classmate, aka Nishimura Riki, aka the guy who you’ve questioned if you had a crush on for the past few days, might be a villain. 
The swirling feeling of trepidation in your stomach leaves three words running around your head. 
What. The. Fuck. 
Although you tried so hard to stop thinking about it, Jake’s comment from before rubbed you the wrong way. It was sometime last week where you couldn't get your mind off of the implications of his words, but that feeling was brushed underneath your responsibilities. 
Until now. 
“Yeah, there’s this guy,” you breathe, feeling your chest constrict, “Nishimura Riki. I think he’s Spark.” 
His blood runs cold. 
“You think this…why?” 
You take a deep breath, trying to organize all your thoughts. “Well, first, it was his friend, Jake. He said that Riki was badly hurt, and I was really confused at first, but tried to let it go.” 
Riki was going to strangle his best friend. 
“And then, I was looking at him in class, right? And keep in mind, he’s pretty cute, and we sit next to each other, so I just noticed how good his hair looked that day, but his notebook was out, and I saw all these drawings of Spark. Like, the arms, the metal things, even the projectiles! Who would know the ins and outs of that thing if it wasn’t Spark himself?”
He didn’t know what to think about first; the fact that you gushed about him for the first time, or if he should even tell you that Spider-Man would know those things, too. 
“And sometimes, I notice he’s a little awkward around me. I can’t explain it. It’s like he’s paying attention to me. That must’ve been why he captured me.” He wants to laugh at how damn close you are to figuring it out, but in reality, nothing is funny about the situation. 
Nishimura Riki is actually listening to this, right now, as Spider-Man–not Spark. The awkwardness, though? It was his crush on you, and was not superhuman related in the slightest.  
“I don’t know,” he attempts to divert, pretending to focus, “I saw a badge for FLiGHT. You know the company that’s been making time traveling machines? I saw a glimpse of his name and face. It’s not that guy you mentioned.” 
You raise an eyebrow. “And you haven’t gotten him caught?” 
“Villains aren’t easy to find, y’know. It’s not like playground hide and seek,” Riki defends, crossing his arms. 
You shrink in your spot, feeling sheepish for questioning a superhero so bluntly. 
“Plus,” he continues, “Spark has never had a hostage. Wouldn’t it be pretty mean of that friend of yours to kidnap a girl from his class?” 
“Yeah—that makes sense. Thank god,” you breathe, closing your eyes momentarily. “Then what do you suspect all that evidence leads to? Maybe he’s a secret agent?” 
“I think,” Riki continues to keep up his clueless facade, “Your friend might just be clumsy. Or creative. I mean, maybe he went through a break-up?” Nice one, Riki. 
You shake your head. “No, there’s no way he has a girlfriend. You’d think I like guys who are taken?” Scoffing lightly, you then remembered that Spider-Man really would have no idea who any of you are. 
He shrugs and stands up stretching before motioning for you to follow him. “I have no idea what you high school kids do. Come on, let’s get you home.” 
As you hug him tight, the cold air whips around your body and leaves goosebumps in their wake. You barely open your eyes from the fear of seeing yourself inches from hitting a building or up in the air. Spider-Man only yells his confirmation after asking how to get you home, finally placing you on the ground outside of your large gate. 
“Thank you for saving me tonight.”
“Anytime. Figure things out with that friend of yours, and don’t go out late, okay?” You nod and take his words to heart. 
“Goodnight, Spiderman.” 
—-
Nishimura might die. One, because he has this horrible guilty feeling in his stomach, and two, because of a villain. 
Yesterday, he ignored the salmon and rice bowl that waited for him back at home, choosing to follow the coordinates he saved on his phone after he took you home. It led him to a seemingly harmless auto-shop, with an arrow on his GPS pointing to a garage that was shut down completely with nails and blocked with boxes. The exterior pointed to it being abandoned, but Riki suddenly saw some light coming from a makeshift above.
The boy scaled the wall as quietly as possible, glancing into the source of the whirring. He caught small glimpses of something–metal, glowing, blue. 
Or at least, for a few seconds it was on until the power went out. 
The voice that complained from inside the room sounded identical to the man Riki fought. Spark grumbled, turning on a flashlight and quickly waving it around. Riki ducked from the window and held his breath, waiting for the man to suspect something. 
Nothing. 
One lightbulb slowly flickered back on, and then the other dingy light followed. The space was cramped with the metal equipment in the middle, resembling what Riki had seen in the news. 
He was right–it was the same time travel portal that was ruined from a few months ago. 
Spider-Man continued to observe the man as he worked and drilled, plugging certain wires or pausing momentarily to read from a journal. To anyone, it’d seem peaceful, like some sort of renovation project. But in reality, it was so much more than that. 
Riki searched for any sort of information about the machine, trying to see what exactly was left to do until his gaze landed on something. 
There was some sort of date on a bright pink sticky-note, and Riki’s eyes widened when he finally comprehends it. 
The machine was scheduled to be completed tomorrow. 
-
A street lamp next to Riki dies out—which was a clear sign that something was powering up. From the dark, he hears the metal from the same place as last night moving again, and he knows that Spark has left. His presence sends anyone down the street and immediately running, leaving the area for only them two. 
Riki finally sees the completed metal build. Half of his body is wrapped in or replaced with metal parts as he sets down the metal portal, beginning to push it in the direction of the power plant. 
A truck or car would make things much easier, but whatever.
Riki wants to cry from fear and run away. He wants to leave and pretend he never saw anything from last night. 
He’s going to die fighting Spark and he will quite literally a) never finish highschool and get that stupid diploma, b) finish explaining how Gatsby is not a good person and is naturally selfish, and c) he’s never going to tell you how he’s had a small crush on you ever since he saw your cute campaign video as to why you should vote y/n l/n for student body treasurer last spring. 
“You sure that thing works?” Riki asks, jumping into action as he sends webs to immobilize the machine. 
“You’re annoying, you know that?” Spark sends a projectile in the superhero’s direction, hitting the wall behind him instead as Riki jumps out of the way.
With another duck mid-air and the roof of a flying car dangerously close to his nose, Riki thanks the dance practice he does for his flexibility as he shoots another web and swings away. 
Spark is uncontrollable by now, sucking the light from street lamps and fizzing wires in his wake. He has no idea how he’s supposed to get in contact with the villain like before. The body of his suit fizzes with bright electricity that sizzles and pops. It illuminates Spark’s figure, making him easy to spot, but not so easy to defeat. It’s an overload of power, causing the voltage to escape between the joints and gaps of the metal pieces in his suit. And Riki can feel it; the air is heightened and so are the stakes of this fight—and with how the man that stands in front of him looks upgraded and menacing, he knows only one person can make it out of this fight alive. 
“You injected the city’s ‘Gas and Electric’ into your system or what?” Riki calls out, making light of the situation. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s scared out of his wits seeing the six foot figure with blue and white shooting from every crack, looking like a nightmare to touch.
Riki avoids a few more angrily thrown objects, using the momentum of his jump from the side of the building to zip from the top of a yellow fire hydrant to go from one side of the street to the other. “You’re slow!” He taunts, tucking in his legs to avoid a shot of electricity directed at him. 
The screech of metal from the nearby hydrant can be heard as the top flings off, making Riki lose his anchor/ Before he can process it, instead of smoothly landing on the building, he crashes into it faster than expected, groaning when his back makes contact with the glass and he tumbles into the living room of someone’s apartment. 
“Fuck,” he curses, fighting his aching limbs to get up once more. 
And the solution hits him. Literally. 
When he steps out and quickly attaches a web to the top of the building, he’s met on the way up with a splash of water from the hydrant to his face, and Riki splutters as he wipes his mask, regaining focus as he lands on the concrete and hides behind the ledge. 
Water. If he can get it in contact with Spark and pour enough water on the right spot, the excess of electricity blazing from his mechanical body should work against him. 
“Too scared? You should know better than to run away.” The superhero rolls his eyes, crawling away silently to avoid being seen by Spark. Riki does his best to look around for something, and finds a black flower pot in the corner, using a web to grab it before he scales the side of the building and runs away while Spark is distracted as the villain also climbs the wall to face him there. But when Spark climbs the ledge and scans the premise, Riki is nowhere to be seen. 
Instead, Riki swings across the street and fills the pot with water, heaving the extra weight as he shouts out from the sudden pain in his side. He stumbles on the pavement, crying out from the injury as the pot falls with his whole plan. 
Maybe this is where Spider-Man dies. 
He sucks in a deep breath before rolling from his back onto his knees, ignoring the wound to pick up the flower pot. The hydrant still shoots out water, and the superhero rushes towards it, causing Spark to follow. He narrowly avoids another shot from behind him, reaching the yellow hydrant before dropping the pot on the ground. Spark is th 
While Spark has always been intelligent, Riki could tell that the man didn’t fear the water, believing he’d be invincible to the elements now that his suit was perfected. There was something off, Riki could tell, and he would make sure to use it to his advantage. Spark was uncontrolled, and his powers drastically decreased the more he used them. There’s no way his body isn’t in overdrive with how recklessly he’s been letting himself get hurt. 
Riki uses a web to get himself on higher ground instead of fighting, waiting for the supervillain to follow. If he could get Spark off the edge and fall into the growing puddle of water, it should slow him down. 
Spark scoffs. “Run away, then. Like you always have.” Riki hears the wall crumbling under the villain as he climbs within seconds, immediately preparing to fight when he makes it onto the rooftop. But Spider-Man was also prepared, jumping from his crouched hiding position and attempting to catch Spark off guard. 
All he can focus on now is pushing him off. There’s no way it’d be easy, considering he had to focus on his touching any of the electricity off of his suit. Riki delivers a kick to Spark in the ribcage near his heart, where he’s fused metal into flesh. The villain coughs before taking a step back, his metal arm reaching for Riki’s outstretched leg. He grabs it, twisting with anger before the boy meets the ground in a violent throw. Not only is the slam greater because of the enhanced strength, but the power seeps into Riki’s skin, leaving it hot from the energy radiating off of his palm. 
The boy groans, flipping to his side to avoid a fatal hit to the chest. He reaches for Spark’s normal arm, swinging the villain’s body away with as force as he could to create distance between them. 
Riki has been in enough fights to simply know when to run, even if he doesn’t know what’s coming. He could feel the tingle of the charge as it powered up, and with its energy so unrestrained and its user so unstable, the large attempt to hit Riki sends the villain stumbling back from the force. The more Spark uses his powers, the more likely he’s going to end up dead. 
“Your skin can handle that anymore!” he shouts, getting ready to swing himself closer as a plan manifests itself in his head. “You’ll die like this!” 
Spark seems to know that too as he wipes his mouth and recovers from Riki’s attacks. 
“You think I care?” He shouts, desperately pressing his wounds to stop the bleeding. “You think I have anything else for myself?” The vulnerability of his character shines through as he clutches his bleeding wound without regenerative powers to help. “You think I didn’t know that when I did it to myself--what they did to me?” 
Riki doesn’t respond, grimacing as he continues hand-to-hand combat. Although he takes a solid punch to his jaw that’s forming a deep purple bruise, he manages to trip Spark onto the ground.
The man stumbles back from the head injury, the pounding from earlier not letting him to think straight. Riki doesn’t try to injure him anymore, but he instead blocks an incoming punch and tries to force Spark towards the edge. 
The villain barely notices how much space there is left, and the boy lunges with full force. They tackle each other into the ground, and Riki gets off after apprehending him once more. 
The city's a mess, and Spider-Man’s eyes want to shut down so badly, but he takes a few steps in Spark’s direction, pushing him off the side of the building as quickly as he can. Riki hears the thud before he peeks over the edge, seeing the water erode all of the engineering from the machinery. He slowly descends from the rooftop. 
“You were in the accident, huh?” Riki shouts on top of the plethora of sounds. Pain, buzzing electricity, splashes of water as he lands next to Spark; it all echoes in his ears as he pours the water from the pot on Spark’s body. “Why did you try it? Why did you want to go back so bad?”
“If I could go back,” Spark coughs, trying to get away from the large pool of water, “I could’ve prevented the accident from taking the lives of the people around me. I could’ve saved them.” 
Spider-Man understands loss, and he understands the regret that comes with failure. He understands how the man in front of him feels after having everything taken away from him, but his emotions could never justify his actions. 
“You know you can’t change things,” Riki responds, “You tried your best, Spark.” It’s the last thing Riki tells the villain before his body slumps and police sirens grow louder and louder. It’s the last thing that he continues to think about, even if the medic quickly assesses the severity of his wounds. 
“I’m fine- really,” he pushes away the hands of a concerned woman as she holds a roll of bandages. “There’s something else I need to do.” 
Riki knew he had to tell you about this–he couldn’t just let you confide in him about..well, him, without your knowledge. And Riki wasn’t morally perfect, but he knew an explanation would be the only way to fix things.
Your house looks different when jumping over the fence instead of standing in front of it. When he realizes he has no idea what room belongs to you, he racks his brain, suddenly remembering how yours was the only one with a gray balcony over the pool. And so he climbs, slipping from the exhaustion creeping into his body. 
You’ll understand after he explains everything, right? 
“____, a little help?” And what the fuck is Nishmura Riki doing outside of your door? You go to investigate the muffled sound, inching towards the curtains and pulling them back to expect him there. When you hear a half yelp and a hissing sound that follows right after, without a person anywhere in sight, your heart drops to its stomach. 
Do not say it’s true. 
“Riki, where the fuck are you?” you ask, traversing out when you don’t see him anywhere across the glass. 
“Down here.” You run in the direction of the voice, and your eyes grow comically large and you gasp, staring down at the sight before you. 
“Holy shit.” 
There Nishimura Riki is, with his mask half burned off his face and his blonde and black hair messy and matted to his forehead with sweat. The suit is ripped in multiple locations with gashes and purple replacing the healthy skin underneath. His face is in more of a grimace, as he holds onto the web with both hands and one foot planted on the stone of your balcony—read; the bottom of your balcony. 
“A little help?” And you see his sheepish emotion through the tattered fabric, embarrassed after you had to find him in such a compromising situation. “I’m a little worn out and I think my webs are getting weaker.”
You’re a little frustrated with him for being out so publicly, but more scared and worried for his condition. Your gaze narrows on the mask, tattered and covered with scratches, but clearly visible. It was Spider-Man’s mask. The material gives way to a familiar face, and your mind almost blocks you from putting the pieces together. It’s impossible, almost horrifying to think of the implications of what it means to wear the blue and red suit. 
Instead of being the villain, Riki is, in fact, the savior.
The harsh truth is that your classmate, who you spent the last month working on a project with and suspected was a villain, is the same superhero that went out and risked his life every night fighting crime. It’s jarring to see him like this, breathing heavy and straining against the stone of the balcony, and his cough snaps you out of it. “What the fuck do I do?” 
Riki tries to put his hand up in surrender and shuts his eyes at your harsh tone. “Okay, okay, I get-“ and he cuts himself off with a yelp as his footing slips. 
He holds out his hand, and you immediately bend over the smooth railing to grab it, leaning back on the heels of your feet to help him up the most that you can. You’re filled with confusion when the boy hobbles over the cool surface of the balcony and lets his head rest on the stone, not saying much as he catches his breath. You watch the rise and fall of his chest and how his right arm goes to nurse the left side of his ribcage, wincing and sucking in a pained breath as he assesses the smear of red on his fingers. 
Sitting there with your mouth agape, you’re not really sure what to think about first; to check if RIki’s alright, to think about how your city’s greatest superhero is your English project partner, to yell at him for going to your house instead of his house to fix himself up, or to think about how good his side profile looks in the moonlight. Maybe you should’ve just been relieved that the boy you started to like wasn’t a fear-inducing villain.
“Okay, first of all, we need to have a huge talk. But I’m not a medic Riki- I’m going into accounting for fuck’s sake.” He hears the amount of curses flying from your lips as you ramble, and sees how stressed you look watching him sit against your railing. 
“I don’t know how to help you. And also,” you lower your voice and scoot closer, looking around at the large property to really make sure no one’s listening. “you’re Spider-Man?” 
The information all hitting you at once is worse than when your history teacher told you your essay was horrible. At least then, in her office, you could process everything. But here? You’re about to faint. 
“I’m pretty cool, huh?” And of course Nishimura Riki says such a thing, taking deep breaths as he shallowly presses on the blossoming bruises on his skin and wipes the sweat from his brow. 
“Pretty fucking stupid is what it is, Riki.” You cross your arms and try to take a look at where he’s been hurt, hoping that at least he has some sort of regeneration ability that helps him heal much quicker—because there’s no way he could deal with all of this on top of school. 
“I have my reasons,” he says, his voice quiet. 
You pause. “For being Spider-Man?” 
“No,” he shakes his head. “For coming here.”
“What could possibly make you want to come over to my house instead of the nearest hospital? What’s that important to you?”
“I really want to ask you to prom.” 
You simply stare at him, surprised. 
“You came to my house, even though you’re like, a punch away from passing out, to ask me out? And you couldn’t have, I don’t know, asked me anytime during the classes we have together?”
Riki somehow finds it in himself to frown and shrink from your angry piercing gaze. “I can’t because talking to you makes me nervous–so yeah, I’m sorry I’m half conscious on your balcony in my suit instead of at your door with a poster.” 
You’re conflicted, your mind still reeling from the recent discovery and your flood of emotions. Ever since you questioned his identity on top of your feelings for him, you had a hard time really knowing if you could like Riki if he turned out to be a villain, so to know that he proved both of your theories wrong leaves you quiet as you think. If possible, the color in the boy’s face drains even more when you go back inside, but the door stays open, and he thinks he hasn’t ruined things after all. You emerge with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol, a bowl of warm water, and a pristine white towel. 
“I’m not mad about that, you idiot,” you reprimand him, setting everything down as you examine the cuts on his face. You squeeze the towel and start to dab at his skin, avoiding the cuts as you clean it. “Who does this for you if not me?” 
“Jake.” 
“Seems like a pretty good friend.” Riki nods in response. 
 “I’m sorry,” he sighs, sitting up to properly address you, even if you weren’t able to meet his gaze. 
“For what?”
“For putting this on you–all of it. Not just the whole Spider-Man thing.” He knew he’d have to tell you at some point, or else it’d eat him up inside to know he kept all of it from you. 
“Look at you, saving me mid-air and talking to me as if you didn’t know who I was.”
You notice a flash of regret through his wince as you clean up a cut with antiseptic. “I meant it when I told you I knew what it was like to have a lot of pressure.”
“Guess I wasn’t so far off, then. If we never talked, would you have told me?” Riki shakes his head, and the simple motion leaves you somehow disappointed. 
“How do you ever tell anyone you’re…y’know, Spider-Man?” Even if it’s a hypothetical, you shrug, not being able to answer.
“How’d Jake find out?” 
Riki chuckles and hisses at the same time before trying to remember. “I think I just kicked his window in after a nasty poison got hold of me. He was a little too excited to have Spider-Man on his bedroom floor, and less excited to know it was me. I’m not really supposed to tell anyone, though.”
“Then why’d you tell me? You could’ve just gone back to your friends.” 
“I felt guilty–I know, I know, it sounds stupid. I’d definitely get my identity revealed at this rate.” You shake your head. 
“Not stupid. Keep going.” 
“I didn’t care that you suspected me, or if anyone else did, because I knew it was never true. But I felt so bad knowing you were sharing to me how you felt without even knowing it was me who was listening–like I was holding something from you.” 
You admire his honesty, and when you look at his furrowed brows and his lip that he’s been gnawing from worry, you can’t even imagine what he’s had to hide and do for this. In a way, you look up to him more, for trying his best even if he’s gotten all odds stacked against him. Riki’s commendable in your eyes–he always had been, ever since you woke him up in class. 
“I like those things about you, Riki. That you’re honest with yourself and the people around you as much as you can be, and you try to help others when you can. I’m glad we got to know each other more this past month.” Talking to him feels different than talking to Spider-Man from a few days ago; it feels raw, like you’re not just confessing something to a brick wall anymore. If none of this ever happened, you doubt you’d get the chance to tell Riki any of this properly. 
The boy stays silent, taking deep breaths while processing what you’ve told him. “I’m glad I could help you out.” 
You furrow your eyebrows. “I hope you know I don’t like you because you help me out. I like you because you’re attractive, and because you’re genuine,” you blurt. 
Riki laughs despite his ribcage hurting everytime he does so. Riki nods and mumbles a ‘thank you,’ also glad to truly get to know you. While his crush was more of an infatuation with your hard work and amiability, the past few weeks really opened his eyes to who you were. You never wanted to disappoint, and even if your recklessness left you in some dire situations, Riki could see how much effort you really put into things. 
There wasn’t anything else he needed to tell you–you were smart enough to see how much he cared about you.    
You’re so close, your lips glossy with lip balm as you watch him carefully. You hear and see it all; the heavy, labored breathing from his body healing itself rapidly, and the way his hand is full of rough cuts and calluses as his fingers intertwine with yours. But your eyes catch a glimpse of his mask tossed to the side, the blue shining in the corner of your eyes as you’re reminded of who he is right now, and what role you play. You are still ____ ____, but he’s a superhero.
It makes you momentarily forget whose suit you're peeling away, whose skin you're cleaning. It reminds you that he’s just the boy in your English class that you fell for. “What does that make us?”
“Prom-goers,” he answers with a slight nod. 
You smile, wiping a cut before placing the towel back into the bowl for the last time and getting up. “We can be prom-goers, yeah.” 
You’re not sure if you’re ready for anything, and you’re thankful that he understands that, too. As much as it warmed your heart to see him again and hear his confessions, the blaring truth still hangs over your head. You grab his mask, finally looking at him before handing it back and grabbing your things. His secret identity wasn’t something you could just ignore. 
“Go home, Spider-Man,” you turn your back on him, and time slows when you falter before sparing him one more look. “I want you as Riki, not like this.” 
Tumblr media
MAYBE NISHIMURA RIKI DOESN'T NEED TO DIE–OR ALMOST DIE–ANYMORE. 
He went home that night with his scars somewhat cleaned and his bruises miraculous healing on their own, and even if slipping through the window left him clutching his side in pain, Riki silently jumped up to celebrate his multiple victories before slipping out of his suit and finally getting some rest. 
Riki’s scared of how he’s affected your relationship. He’s worried you’ll avoid him in the halls, and he’s worried you’d never want to see him again after putting you through all of it. As much as he'd understand how upset you'd be towards him, he hopes he did the right thing by telling you.
But you see him on your way to English, and you call his name. His eyes search for yours in the crowds, and you two see each other before you crush him in a hug. 
Riki isn’t sure how to feel at first, but eventually wraps his arms around you as relief settles in his stomach. 
“Thank you for saving me, Spider-Man,” you whisper, loud enough for only him to hear. 
He smiles at you, ruffling your hair as you go to English together. “Anytime, ____.” 
Tumblr media
NEVERMIND, NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE SEES YOU IN YOUR RED PROM DRESS.
But first, he has to try something out. 
He curses to himself when silently zipping from a tree outside your family property to the top of your house, staring past the ledge two and luxurious stories to your well decorated porch light and door. He just prays that Google Maps is  right about how secluded the area is, so no one can see him pacing around your rooftop, with flowers elegantly wrapped in his hand (courtesy of your mother’s sleek envelope from a few days ago). 
“Fuck it,” he says to himself, shooting a web and dangling himself down. Riki’s upside down figure watches swirled window frames and meticulously designed accents as he descends, and he wonders what kind of shady business your parents could’ve done to afford something so grand. 
He faces your door—hanging down instead of rightside up, but he’s still here on time like he promised. 
The door opens at 6:00PM like he instructed you to, but what he didn’t tell you what to do was shriek and slam the door. On his nose. With a loud yelp, Riki clutches his nose, rubbing the spot you hit and trying to apply pressure to alleviate the pain. 
When the door slowly creaks open again, you face with the image of Nishimura Riki, aka your boyfriend, aka your English partner, aka Spider-Man, curled upside down in the fetal position as he cradles the sore spot on his face and swings slightly from the breeze. 
“You scared me, dumbass! How was I supposed to know it was you? It was so hard to see!” 
Although muffled, Riki’s able to mumble, “You have a porch light for this reason, _____,” and a jab at his stomach from you follows his sarcastic remark. Finally, his nose feels better, and he straightens out to finally look at you. 
Pretty, pretty, pretty, and the boy wonders how you look even more stunning with a glittering red dress and perfectly done make-up. “I like the red,” he says, trying not to freak out over your beauty. “Reminds me of a certain neighborhood superhero.” 
“I have some blue spider earrings to match.” With a beautiful smile, you turn to show him the little accent, and it melts his heart. “Are you okay, though?”
“I’m fine. I should’ve probably put more thought into that.” 
You snicker, sliding into your heels and closing the door behind you. 
“One of us is better at romantic gestures, it seems.” It warrants a scoff, and Riki brings a gloved hand to poke at your forehead teasingly.
“Let me have a do-over, then?” And the way your lips curl up into a bright smile leaves him quiet and in awe. 
“What, were you going to kiss me? Very original, Spider-Man.” With the way the fabric shifts over his features, you can tell he’s pouting. 
“I thought girls liked this.” 
You shrug, pretending you aren’t swept off his feet by the effort he’s put in. Taking a step in his direction, your hands reach up to gently pull the mask over his chin, ears, and then his nose. 
Whispering quietly, you ask, “You’ve kissed other girls upside down?” 
Riki’s quick to shake his head. “You’re the only girl I’d withstand a head rush for.” And god, you just can’t stop yourself from grinning at his sweet, genuine words.
You lean in, placing a small kiss on his nose as a silent apology. Then, you close your eyes and lean into him once more, feeling his hands carefully holding the side of your head and his lips on yours. Your kiss with Riki is saccharine and slow, making you pull away when the urge to beam at him is too much. Your cheeks definitely hurt by how romantic he’s being, and you can’t resist kissing him once more.
“I’m not gonna lie,” he starts, finally letting himself down, “It feels weird.” 
“You ruined the moment.” And he really didn’t, but you enjoy his subtle reactions to your light digs at him. 
“Whatever.” Riki laughs. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” 
You nod, sitting down on the porch and dragging a manicured nail over your lips with the ghost of his affections, thinking about how you literally just kissed Spider-Man. 
Riki comes back, dusting off his suit and smoothing out the wrinkles, with a large bouquet of red roses and one blue one snuck in there. Your lips stretch into a grin and you accept the bouquet, keeping a mental note to read the card in there.
“You never cease to amaze me, Riki.” It’s the last thing you mutter to the air before you loop your arms around his neck, urging him to lean down as you kiss him once more—this time rightside up, but still as sickly saccharine as the one before it. Your heart is fuzzy with fondness and your eyes glitter with adoration. 
“So, which kiss was better?” he asks when you pull away, a little breathless and dizzy.
You swat his arm and walk past the gates, seeing the sleek limo waiting by the curb. “I don’t know, Spider-Man. Maybe show up in your suit and we’ll try it again.” 
Tumblr media
REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED AND ALWAYS READ!
RIKI FIC DONE!!!! ngl y/n u were right there how did u not know riki was spiderman but whatever idc she's a hard worker not smart LMFOAOAO. my first ever action fic so i hope you enjoy! also i hate the ‘oh he pined after her for 4 years she liked him for 2 months’ bs because I WAS IN IT. and it sucks so i tried to deviate from it :)
꣑ৎ permanent fic taglist (TAGGED IN TEASERS, FICS, HEADCANNONS, DRABBLES, ETC.): @dimplewonie @minleeeknow @heeheesang @mintpjzroll @llvrhee @firstclassjaylee @in-somnias-world @rairaiblog @suneng @mavlogist @sensitively-taken @sumzysworld @simpjay @moons-v @riksaes @txtari @jungwonscatcus @tya0 @sasfransisco @woorcve @shypen @pinkriki @rikisluv @saranghaohoshi @lilifiedeans @wonmyheart @k1ttyluvr @nikisgfff @ramenoil @laurradoesloveu @lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me @ikeulims @missychiefs1404 @qwonyoung23 @yangjungwonnie @onementally-unstabel-kid @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @blooqz @anormieee hi permies hope u enjoy! kith
2K notes · View notes
caffeinewitchcraft · 2 months ago
Text
Ghost Eater
Summary: You don't like exorcists. They don't much like you either.
-----
You’d always thought big restaurants like the Brownie Industry only did well in small, midwestern towns like the one you came from. A year working in LA has taught you that, no matter where you go, people will always love garlic bread and sugar.
It’s your day off which means you’re pulling a double shift. You haven’t had time to wash your hair for the past two weeks so it’s frizzing out of your claw clip and flying wild around your face. The lighting is so dim that you’ve tripped over two black purses already, luckily not while you’re running food. The big dining room sounds like an apiary with the tittering laughter of the later adult crowd that’s filtered in from the theater across the four lane road. The main difference between the Brownie Industry here and the one back home is size. The ceiling soars overhead, supported by a series of concrete pillars separating the dining area into three sections.
Normally it would be three servers per section. Today, it’s just you in yours.
One more hour. That’s what the manager promised you. It might even be true if the host stand quits seating you after the table you’re approaching.
There are three people at the table. A woman whose hair might be light blonde or gray in the light of day, her eyes light and piercing. Her face is soft from age, emphasized by the tight, lace collar of her off-season sweater. She reminds you strongly of your mom’s nemesis on the HOA board. The man couldn’t be more out of place next to her despite their equivalent age. He’s wearing a leather jacket – again, it’s not cold here – and a Norwegian metal shirt underneath. His hair is definitely white, so white it almost glows. He’s frowning at the teenager across the table as if she’s touched his motorcycle without permission.
The teenager might be the first you’ve seen all night who doesn’t have their phone out. She’s decked out in what you consider grandma florals – a t-shirt scattered with daisy chains, a bucket hat made out of nana’s carpet bag, and a hand-crocheted scarf in pastel.  You can’t really see her face under the shadow of her hat and there’s an odd, blurred quality to the way she fiddles with her napkin. You let your eyes skip past her and back to the two adults. Teenagers don’t pay the bill.
“Welcome to Brownie Industry!” you chirp. You’re sweaty and red but the faded yellow light hides that. You’re a service industry pro so none of your exhaustion shows on your face when you ask, “Is this your first-time dining with us?”
If you weren’t so burned out, you’d have noticed before you introduced yourself.
“Are you Grady?” the woman asks. Her voice is more posh than you expected even with her lace collar. “Grady Pace?”
Fuck. There’s a noticeable temperature differential now that you’re close to them. The restaurant is warm from the number of bodies, maybe even warmer than the summer air outside, but stepping up next to their table feels like walking into an ice rink.
“I’m your waitress,” you say. You don’t have time for this conversation. You’ve got five minutes in your cycle to take their order and then you’ve got food to run. “If you need any other services from me, I have a website.”
“We messaged you,” the man says. His lips thin to the point his thick mustache covers them entirely. “You never responded.”
Because you’ve been making more money at the Brownie Industry than your other job. “I’ll take a look at it tonight.”
“Wait,” the teenager says, sitting upright. She looks from you to the adults and back again. When she smiles, there’s no humor in it. “This is why we drove eight hours to have dinner at the Brownie Industry? For her?”
“Katie, be polite—”
“I’m sorry,” Katie says, “It’s just—I found a priest, you know? An actual exorcist priest and you guys want to trust a waitress over him?”
“Ugh exorcists,” you say. The memory of sour cabbage is so heavy on your tongue that you stick your tongue out in disgust. When you see Katie’s look, you backtrack. “Effective! Definitely effective.”
“Your mistakes have cost us too much already,” the man says, shaking a finger at her. “We are not converting just for an exorcism.”
“I normally don’t agree with your father,” the woman tells Katie, “but in this case I would like to leave conversion as a last resort.”
“We wouldn’t actually convert,” Katie says, rolling her eyes.
“Pretty sure exorcists can tell when you lie,” you tell Katie. When her scowl deepens, you clear your throat. “Did you all need another minute to think about the menu?”
“We need you to help us,” the dad says. He scrubs a hand over his face. “Look, I know you’re at work and I’m sorry we’re bothering you.”
“We’re desperate,” the mom says. She reaches for her purse. “We’ll pay you. Triple the rate on your website or even quadruple. We need that thing gone by tonight.”
Katie covers her face. “Mom. You’re embarrassing me. Terry isn’t that bad.”
“Oh, he’s bad, young lady,” the dad says sternly. “A bad influence.”
“We caught her trying to perform another séance yesterday,” the mom confesses to you. She leans forward with a pinched expression. “So Terry’s friend Larry could visit too.”
“Interesting,” you say. The food bell rings, but you think you can ignore it for another minute. You study Katie’s blush. “Why did you do that?”
If she was being compelled, she won’t have an answer to your question. You’ve dealt with a lot of ghosts in your time, but so few are sentient enough – or powerful enough – for compulsion.
“Go on,” the dad says, gesturing at you. “Tell her.”
“Leroy, she’s embarrassed enough,” the mom says.
“No, she’s not, Sarah.” The dad – Leroy – gestures to you again. “Tell her.”
Katie huffs, clearly resistant. But when her dad huffs back, she caves. “So,” she says, “I have this YouTube channel—”
“I’m off in an hour,” you interrupt. You don’t care that you’re being rude. Your patience ran out as soon as she said YouTube. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.” You turn to go.
“A moment!” Sarah shakes out her menu. “How’s the nicoise salad?”
Of course they’re going to order. They’d better tip too if they want you to help them with their ghost problem.
----.
“You said an hour,” mom Sarah says when you leave out the employee entrance. She’s shivering next to her daughter. Leroy is off smoking behind his motorcycle, parked next to the Tesla Katie is leaning on, but he stubs out his cigarette on the asphalt when you walk up. “It’s been two.”
“I had side work,” you say instead of it would have been one if not for you. You rub your bare arms when the familiar ghost chill washes over you. You want nothing more than to go home and wash the scent of garlic and brownie batter out of your hair. “Was there something wrong with my service?”
“No?”
You try to make your voice light. “I see.”
Sarah frowns at your tone anyway. “Why?”
“You tipped five dollars.”
Katie jolts like a scalded cat. “Mom!”
Leroy scrubs a hand over his face. “Sarah…”
“What?” Sarah throws up her hands. The parking lot lights catch on her Swarovski charm bracelet. “I tipped!”
“Like ten percent,” Katie says. She pulls her bucket hat over her eyes for a beat and then peeks at you from under it. “I’m so sorry. It’s not you, she’s always like this.”
“It was actually a six percent tip,” you say. You’re getting a clearer picture of this little family now. It’s becoming more and more understandable why Katie might have started summoning ghosts. “If you want to be precise.”
Leroy reaches for his back pocket. “Let me.”
Sarah swats at his hand. “We’re about to pay her a lot more than that!”
“For a completely separate job,” Leroy says. He pulls a twenty from his wallet and hands it to you with a grimace. “Sorry, Grady, I should’ve checked.”
“You should’ve paid if you cared so much,” Sarah retorts. She folds her arms over her chest. She taps her cheek and widens her eyes. “Oh wait… you never pay.”
“Sure,” Leroy says. This time it’s his turn to throw his hands in the air. “Sure, Sarah. I don’t pay for anything to do with our daughter’s private school or her dance classes or her health insurance—”
“If the court hadn’t mandated—”
“You make twice as much as me—"
“Guys!” Katie says loudly. Her mouth is a thin line of upset when she says, “Argue about what an expensive burden I am later when we don’t have an audience, okay?”
Her parents speak at the same time.
“You’re twisting my words,” Sarah says. “I never said—"
“Sweetie, you’re not a burden—”
“Can you just get this ghost out of me?” Katie asks you. She goes for nonchalance and falls short. “My parents haven’t been in the same room for the last five years for a reason.” She fakes whispering. “They don’t play nicely with others.”
Sarah bristles. “Katie.”
“God, I know how that is,” you say. The whole interaction is giving you the worst case of sympathy for Katie. Before her parents can say anything else, you change the subject. “How long have you been haunted?”
“Six months,” Katie says. She fiddles with her bucket hat so that you can see her eyes for the first time. They’re brown, like her dad’s, and have heavy bruises underneath. She shrugs. “They only noticed a month ago though.”
“I noticed your behavior had changed,” Sarah defends. Like her daughter, she fidgets. She plays with her bracelet and clears her throat. “I thought it was a teenage thing.”
“What signs did you notice first?” you ask the parents. They glance at each other and then away.
“Let’s just say we noticed different things,” Leroy says dryly. He pulls out his phone.
“Moodiness,” Sarah says. She ticks them off on her fingers. “Laziness. Disrespect. Over-sleeping.”
“Those are just teenager things,” Katie says with an astounding level of self awareness. She shrugs. “I’m a senior now. They’re lucky it didn’t start sooner.”
“I,” Leroy says, “noticed this.” He turns his phone towards you.
“Ah,” Sarah says, “Yes. That.”
You examine the picture. It’s of Katie on a small dirt bike. She’s wearing a helmet in the picture, but you recognize the fashion sense in the floral boots she’s wearing. The scene behind her is of the hills, low scrub brush recognizable to someone who’s lived in LA for the past five years. On the bike behind her is a smudge. It could be a cloud of dirt blown into frame or maybe a camera glitch. It could be if it weren’t for the leering face emerging from the cloud right behind her head.
“I just want to say I did not agree to getting her a motorcycle,” Sarah says.
“Mom, not the point,” Katie says.
“Look how close that creep is to my daughter,” Leroy says. He jabs a finger at Katie’s waist in the photo where you can see a ghostly hand. “I want him gone.”
“Dad, he didn’t mean anything by it!” Katie turns to you earnestly. “Terry never rode a bike before and I thought, like, what if he moved on after he got a chance to? It was a philanthropic effort!”
“Plant a tree if you want to be a philanthropist,” Leroy growls. “I want this guy away from my daughter.”
“He doesn’t mean any harm really,” Katie says. “He would move on if he could! He says he’s stuck to me because of how I summoned him. He’s like, really sorry. He even spelled out Sorry in the bathroom mirror once.”
“What,” Sarah says in a dangerous voice, “was Terry doing in the bathroom with you, Katie?”
Katie splutters. “Mom, don’t be gross!”
The family descends into bickering. You have heard about ghosts being stuck to a person before, but usually that’s when the person has some sort of psychic powers. Katie’s wearing crystal in her ears, but they aren’t charged. She might develop some talent later in life, but right now she’s a normal girl.
The parking lost is nearly empty now. You recognize a few employee cars, but very few customers. The kitchen will be cleaning for another half hour before they’re ready to go home.  The reality is that, if Terry is stuck, you might not be the best way to handle the situation. If he’s not…
Well.
It’s time to talk to Terry.
Opening your ghost sense is hard to describe. Some psychics liken it to a third eye, right in the middle of their forehead. You’ve always thought that sounded really cool like maybe the world gets cast in a blue hue when they do it and the dead appear like they do in movies. You’ve met other psychics who say it’s like a sixth sense. They know where the ghost is and it’s like they download all that information until their minds can just sort of conjure their image.
For you, it’s like letting your body remember it has a second mouth. Cats have an extra sensory organ on the roof of their mouth that lets them detect scents better. Your second mouth is a bit like that. You can still smell brownies and garlic and the city air of LA, but you can also smell/taste something else.
Something like…pepper?
Your eyes water and you sneeze so viciously that your eyes close. When you open them again, four people are staring at you in surprise.
“Gesundheit,” Leroy says.
“You sneeze like Dad does,” Katie says.
“Did no one ever teach you to cover your mouth?” Sarah asks in disgust.
“I wish you would’ve sneezed on her,” Terry says, nodding to Sarah. “She’s such a bitch.”
“Thank you for the commentary, everyone,” you say. You wipe your nose with the collar of your shirt as you consider Terry. It’s dirty anyway. “Terry. Interesting name for a ghost.”
Terry hasn’t noticed that you can see him yet. He’s floating behind Katie, one arm casually flung over her shoulder. It’s hard to place when he died based on his appearance alone. His hair is chin length, emphasizing the width of his jaw. Squire cuts have been popular for several decades and the bowling shirt he’s wearing could either be a modern fashion statement or a dated uniform. He looks to be in his mid-twenties, sun-kissed and with the air of someone who tells a lot of jokes at the expense of others. His arm around Katie strikes you as possessive, the glare he gives her parents venomous.
“I didn’t name him,” Katie says. “He said it’s short of Torrance.”
You blink. ��Wouldn’t he be Torri then?”
“That’s a girl’s name,” Katie and Terry say at the same time. Their cadence is so close that it actually sounds like Terry’s baritone comes out of Katie’s mouth. For a moment, his arm flickers, clipping into her shoulder like a bad animation. When it does, Terry’s form grows brighter, more solid. Then Katie shivers and he’s forced out of her.
You and Terry click your tongues at the same time.
You remember how Katie’s hands seemed to blur at the dinner table. Terry’s not just haunting Katie. He’s trying to possess her. You wonder if that’s why Katie looked up an exorcist rather than a simple spiritual cleansing. Did she know how much danger she was in?
“Okay,” you say. You tear your attention away from Katie and Terry for a moment. Business first. “Sarah. Leroy. Who was it that found my site?”
“I did,” Sarah says. She raises her chin when you can’t hide your surprise. “When Katie was looking up exorcists—”
“She didn’t mean it,” Terry says. He pats Katie’s hat. “Right?”
“—I looked up alternative solutions,” Sarah says, not having heard Terry. Her confidence falters for a moment and she rubs her arm. “I have had some… negative experiences with exorcisms. I don’t want my daughter to go through that.”
Katie’s head whips towards her mother. “What? I didn’t know that.”
“It was a long time ago,” Leroy says. For the first time, he reaches out and hugs Sarah with one arm. You don’t know what surprises you more; Leroy hugging Sarah or Sarah leaning into his side. “When Sarah told me, we decided to put our differences aside. I vetted you through some of my contacts and they all agreed you’d be a safe bet.”
“I am,” you say. You’re not bragging either. You’re probably the safest bet in half the western states besides your older sister. “There are some…peculiarities in my method.”
“Charlatan,” Terry whispers in Katie’s ear. He’s grinning now. “Only charlatans are that confident. Look! She can’t even see me!”
Katie looks doubtful.
Usually, you’d try to talk to Terry at this point. Sometimes spirits can be negotiated with. They can be encouraged to move on or to take on a less aggressive form of haunting. Those that are truly stuck can be helped with the right sort of ritual work. But the way Terry’s affecting Katie’s mood and that fucking arm around her shoulders…
You don’t really want to talk to Terry.
“We can ask Terry to move on,” you tell the family.
“Nooooooo,” Terry says and flips you off. “Pass!”
“Sometimes spirits don’t realize how deeply they’re affecting their hosts,” you say.
“You don’t even know how deep I’m about to be,” Terry jeers at you.
“Many ghosts are confused when they’re called to interact with the living,” you say. “It can blur their understanding of death and, as a result, they cling to life. If they stick around long enough, their presence will affect the living like what’s happening to Katie. It’s not always malicious. It can be a symptom of that confusion.”
“Katie, tell her to piss off,” Terry hisses in the teen’s ear. “I’m not confused, I’m bored.” His voice deepens. “Tell her we don’t need her help. Tell her we’re going home.”
Katie opens her mouth robotically. “That’s…” Her brow creases as she tries to figure out what she was going to say. “It seems like we don’t need help then. Terry will move on when he’s ready, like I thought.”
“We aren’t paying you for a ghost therapy session,” Sarah snaps. It’s only because you’re really focusing that you can see the unease under her anger. She’s noticed something wrong with Katie. “Katie, Terry is going away today.”
“Fuck you,” Terry says.
“Fuck you,” Katie says.
Leroy’s head rears back. “Katie, you don’t use that language with your mother!”
“Fuck you too,” Katie and Terry say. The parking lot lights flicker.
“No, fuck you, Terry,” you say, stepping between Katie and her parents. Leroy starts like he’s going to pull you out of the way, but he doesn’t.
“Terry?” Leroy asks. He looks scared. “Terry said that? Is Terry possessing my daughter?”
“Not yet.” You eye Terry’s arm and the way his fingers are sinking into Katie’s arm.
“Oh fuck,” Terry says. He doesn’t look scared. Not yet. Instead, he grins. “You can see me.”
“Not every ghost is malicious,” you tell the parents without taking your eyes off Terry. “But some are.”
“I’m not malicious.” Terry runs a hand through his hair, still grinning. The parking lot lights flicker overhead again. “I care about Katie a lot.”
“Terry’s never hurt me,” Katie says.
You ignore her. She’s not even shaking Terry off now. Her gaze is dull on your face when you say, “I don’t mean to sound like I’m some sort of ghost therapist. However, it’s important to differentiate between malicious and non-malicious hauntings in my practice. My methods are unconventional and, if used indiscriminately, I can get in a lot of trouble.”
“We won’t tell anyone,” Leroy says. He steps into your periphery. His gaze flicks from you to the spot you’re staring at over Katie’s shoulder. “We want Terry gone.”
“Not a soul,” Sarah promises. She comes up on your other side. “Please help our daughter.”
“Terry,” you say. Your second mouth is yawning wide somewhere in the back of your brain. The taste of pepper isn’t as overwhelming now. “Last chance. Renounce your claim on Katie’s soul and slither back into whatever hole you came out of.”
“We’re soulmates,” Terry says. He bares his teeth at you. “Go on, Charlatan. Call on your God to banish me. I’ve been around for decades and no exorcist has ever been able to put a scratch on me. And when they manage to push me out?” He laughs and the temperature drops another ten degrees. An unholy light flickers in his eyes. “I just come right back.”
“Then I guess I won’t feel guilty,” you say.
“Guilty?” Katie asks.
You walk forward two steps and grab Terry’s face. Terry’s skin is soft and jelly-like. His facial bones undulate like rubber under your grip. “Hi, Terry.”
Now Terry’s afraid. “What the fuck, you can touch—?”
“Bye, Terry.” You drag him towards you. His fingers pop out of Katie’s arm with a wet sucking sound, and he claws at your wrist.
“Wait! Waitwaitwaitwait--”
You eat Terry.
People come from all around to eat at the Brownie Industry. They love the density of the desserts and the heaps of garlic spread over home-baked (shipped frozen) rolls. It’s a treat to know you’re always going to enjoy the meal even if you’re far from home or eating at the same location a hundred times. It’s consistency, sugar and butter. An easy addiction to have.
Eating ghosts is like that for you. They fizz in your second mouth like champagne and melt like fudge. It’s hard to describe and the ephemeral quality of it sends shivers down your spine. Somewhere Terry is screaming in anguish, maybe crying. You think that the family you’re helping is screaming something too, but the sensation of eating is so consuming you can’t hear the words.
Terry is younger than other ghosts you’ve eaten. He doesn’t have the depth of flavor you’d once been addicted to back in Illinois. The best ghost you’ve ever eaten had been like a six-course meal with all the centuries she’d been carrying. In comparison, Terry is like a bag of pepper chips. Interesting, but gone in a moment. Still, he hits the spot.
When you’re done, you burp a purple cloud of ectoplasm into the still night air.
Leroy is the first to speak. His eyes are so wide you can see the whites all around them. “Pay her, Sarah,” he says breathlessly. His hands shake as he reaches for Katie, steadying her on her feet. “Now.”
You smack your lips and graciously accept the wad of cash Sarah hands you. You raise your eyebrows. “This is more than three times my rate.”
“Consider it a tip,” Sarah says. She’s more composed than Leroy, but still pale. She studies you. “That was…revolting.”
“You didn’t have to watch,” you say. You put your money away and then perk up at a sudden thought. “Hey, if you can, can you leave me a review on my site?”
“I thought you didn’t want us to tell anyone?”
You wave your hand. “Secrets are bad for business. Besides, Terry deserved it. I’m sure they’ll understand if you write that in your review.”
“They…?”
You smile and don’t answer.
The family don’t ask many more questions after that. The parents promise to leave a review and Katie just stares at you as if concussed. You assure the parents that she’ll be back to normal as soon as the soul-shock wears off. 
“And if it doesn’t?” Sarah asks.
“Message me,” you say.
“You don’t check your messages,” Leroy says.
“Oh,” you say, patting your stomach, “I’ll be checking them a lot more often now.”
You’re hungry again.
---
(Patreon)
2K notes · View notes
jobean12-blog · 10 months ago
Text
Had to be You
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (enemies to lovers ish)
Word Count: 2,270
Summary: You and Bucky have been going at each other for months. He's grumpy and defensive. You're sassy and frustrated. Steve's had enough. So when Steve steps in to do something will it work? Or will it makes things worse?
Author's Note: At this point all I want is for Bucky to kiss me senseless for the rest of my life (and do everything else) but really. Kisses. Yes please. Anyway. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: some light mead comsumption, angsty ex talk, tension but softness, happy ending
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS! You get back here right now and open this door before I kick your ass!”
Steve’s chuckle only makes you angrier. “I’ll open it when you two make nice.”
“STEVE!” you screech.
His retreating footsteps have you banging your forehead into the thick metal of the door, muttering curses under your breath.
“Please tell me Stark has some hidden exit in here somewhere?” you sigh.
“I’m going to kill Steve.”
When Bucky’s speaks his first words since you got locked in the gym together you spin to face him, eyes hard.
“Get in line Barnes!”
“Hey, look at that kids, you’re agreeing already!” Steve’s voice rings out from down the hall.
With that last remark everything goes silent other than your frustrated huffs.
“Is this actually happening?” you whine. “Can’t you just break the door down?”
Bucky’s blue eyes stare blankly and you grow more agitated.
“Why the hell did he do this?”
You glare back in his direction, hands on your hips. “Because of your sunshine and rainbows attitude toward me!”
You spit out the words, letting them drip with sarcasm.
“MY attitude?” Bucky grits out as he sticks a finger in his chest. “Doll face. I’ve been nothing but a perfect gentleman to you.” That same finger spins to point at you now.
You face him fully and take a step closer.
“Grunts do not equal a greeting and barely answering questions and barely making conversation definitely does not show your gentlemanly side!”
Bucky opens his mouth to retort but you continue on. “And what about avoiding me all together!? What the fuck is that about?”
He runs his large hand through his hair and squeezes the back of his neck, setting his lips in a hard line.
“Fuck. Please tell me there’s still some of Thor’s mead in here,” he mutters.
“Why the hell would he leave alcohol in the gym?” you ask, your brows nearly hitting your hairline.
With a shrug Bucky starts moving about and searching under things. “He likes to ‘get drunk’” and he makes air quotes as he says it, “and then show us how he can still lift heavier weights.”
You can’t help the laughter that boils up and over but you quickly cover your mouth when Bucky gives you an unamused look.
“Here it is!” he chimes, seeming far too relieved.
You move toward him as you watch him take a swig from the bottle, the muscles in his neck shifting with every swallow.
“Save some for me,” you say quietly and hold out your hand.
He smirks.
“Careful doll. Too much of this and I’ll have to carry you out of here.”
Tumblr media
As more of the mead circulates through your body you start to relax marginally, thoughts of killing Steve slowly fading.
Bucky has been sure to keep your consumption under control and other than feeling less murderous and calmer you’re lucid.
“So,” you muse. “It doesn’t look like Steve is coming back any time soon. And we’ve been quiet. No yelling or fighting.”
Bucky simply grunts in agreement.
“SEE!” you nearly shout. “That’s exactly what I mean. I say something and your answer is a grunt…WHAT. THE. FUCK!”
While waiting for his explanation you notice a slight pink flush to his cheeks and you find it hard not to throw him a triumphant smile.
Deciding to let him off the hook for now, you ask, “how long have you known your best friend is insane?”
To your surprise, Bucky laughs. A real laugh that has his eyes crinkling and his nose scrunching up.
You try not to stare too long but you find it difficult to look away.
“Are you drunk Barnes?”
His eyes meet yours and the corner of his mouth twitches with a boyish smile.
“You’re full of questions tonight doll. And for the record it takes a lot more than this to get me drunk,” he admits as his smile widens.
He shifts in his spot on the floor, his long legs now stretched out in front of him and you can’t help but focus on his thighs and the way his jeans pull tightly over the thick muscle.
“Who knew all we needed was a little alcohol to not fight.”
You chuckle and hold your hand out for the more.
He shakes his head no and places the bottle down on the floor before leaning forward.
“I don’t want to fight with you. Ever.”
At his admission, your expression hardens.
“Then why are you so….so… unfriendly?” you ask.
“Why are you always so sassy?” he shoots back. “Seems to me like you’re the one always looking for a fight.”
His answer makes you sigh.
“I don’t see you doing that to Barton or Steve…hell anyone else!” he adds.
He waits patiently, his eyes trained on you and his body straining forward.
With more nonchalance than you feel, you confess, “you’re kind of my type. And my dating track record sucks. So…you know…”
You motion to him. All of him. His long legs, broad shoulders, hard chest, sculpted arms and his perfectly handsome face.
Stunned, Bucky stares for a second too long and too fiercely.
Heat starts to tickle your skin as you feel your body react to his focused attention.
“Are you…” he starts, before clearing his throat. “Are you telling me that you’re attracted to me and that’s why you hate me?”
The tension is thick, stretching between you for many long seconds before you wrench your eyes away and look down at your hands.
“I don’t hate you.”
Your words are quiet and the next sentence that passes your lips is even softer. “I just have a hard time trusting men.”
When he doesn’t say anything you look up at him and see the hurt etched across his features.
“Are you sure it’s not just me you don’t trust?”
At his question, the realization of what he’s implying hits you and you immediately slide closer to him and reach your hands toward him.
“No Bucky. That’s not it at all. In fact I trust you with my life…just not necessarily my heart.”
When he continues to study you, his features softening, but doesn’t speak, you add. “It’s not your fault. Really.”
“I want to know why.”
“Why what?” you ask.
“Why you don’t trust men.”
His jaw is tight and his fists are clenched in his lap.
He’s clearly distraught over the fact that you’ve been hurt and you’re sure he’s thinking the worst. It melts you more and you want to reach out and trace the hard line of his jaw to reassure him.
“It’s not anything that bad. I’ve just been hurt. A lot. And not just in romantic relationships. Friendships too.”
He scowls. “In what ways?”
You shrug like it’s nothing.
“What is there to say? The first real relationship I was in ended when he found something better. He told me when we broke up, ‘why would I say with you when I can do better’.”
“That motherfucker,” Bucky fumes as he opens and closes his metal fist, the whirring metal sounds momentarily distracting you.
“Yeah. But that wasn’t the last. My boyfriend after that I found out was sleeping with my friend. Or I thought she was my friend.”
“Fucking hell. Please tell me you’re kidding.”
He stands slowly, visibly agitated.
“And we haven’t even gotten to my last boyfriend yet. Better sit back down.”
“I’m too fucking pissed off to sit,” he growls.
“Honestly, it’s more my fault. I knew I shouldn’t have dated him. He was just like the rest and when my friend sent me a video of the two of them fucking I was hardly surprised.”
You couldn’t look at Bucky anymore and you dropped your eyes.
“Guess I’m just not good enough to stick around for.”
“Fuck,” he exhaled. “Doll.”
He sat down in front of you, forcing your attention back to him.
“Please don’t tell me you really believe that.”
You give him an exasperated look. “After being dumped three times you kind of start to believe it.”
Suddenly, he kicks at one of the weight machines, making the metal creak and bend then he falls to his knees in front of you and takes your hands in his.
The smell of him surrounds you and you have no where to look but into his eyes.
“These men,” and he spits out the last word. “Fuck that, they aren’t men. These pieces of shit have no idea what a gift you are and they don’t deserve you. They deserve a fucking beating.”
“Bucky.”
You squeeze his hands. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” he counters. “Tell you the truth? Tell you that you’re gorgeous, sexy, smart, and kind.”
His eyes drop to your mouth and he licks his lips.
“Hardly kind,” you scoff. “Look how poorly I treated you.”
He reluctantly drags his eyes from your mouth and determination hardens his gaze.
“Nah doll face. I get it now. And honestly, a lot of that is on me. I couldn’t understand why someone as perfect as you wanted anything to do with me. I put up my defensives the only way I know how.”
You whisper his name hoarsely and run your thumb along his jawline.
His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks and he exhales.
Even if you wanted to you couldn’t stop the way your body moved closer to his and when he slides his hand up your arm and around the back of your neck your lips part in a gasp.
Just as you feel his warm breath tickle your skin the lock on the door turns and Steve calls your names.
You quickly pull away with wide eyes, shooting one last look at Bucky before you lift your eyes to Steve.
He stares between the two of you and then at the half empty bottle of mead.
“What…?”
“Nothing,” you and Bucky say at the same time.
Bucky jumps to his feet and holds his hand out for you.
You take it and let him pull you up and into his body. Your chest brushes his with your every breath and you’re right back where you were just seconds ago…under his spell.
It only takes a moment for your past hurt to flood back and wash away the desire you’re feeling and in the next breath you’re mumbling goodbyes and rushing off.
Tumblr media
When Bucky finally finds you the next day the apology you’ve been wanting to give him spills out.
“I just want to say that I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting.”
He takes a step closer to you, crowding you against the door of your room.
“I really appreciate that doll, but I should be the one apologizing to you. I’m sorry. For everything.”
“Thank you.”
It’s all you can manage to say with him so close to you.
You can feel your pulse jump and when you hear the moving metal plates in his arm you look down at his hands to see them clenched into fists at his sides.
“Bucky?” you ask.
“I’m having a really hard time not touching you,” he explains in a pained whisper.
“Oh,” you breathe out.
He closes the space between you and your back hits the door. He slowly lifts his hand, caressing your cheek with his thumb and then slowly sliding his fingers down to stroke your neck.
The gentle dominance in his touch sets you on fire and you lean into him.
“I’m scared of getting hurt Bucky.”
The words tumble out and you start to drop your gaze but he stops you with the press of his fingers under your chin.
His eyes harden and he doesn’t speak.
You whisper his name, your voice shaky.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m just talking myself out of hunting every one of your exes down and skinning them alive.”
His voice grows with anger and you press a soft hand to his hard chest.
“They aren’t worth it.”
“You’re worth it.”
Taken aback by the intensity of his words you stare into his eyes, their blue color filled with longing and fierceness.
“Fuck doll. You have no idea how fucking gorgeous you are, do you? I can hardly catch my breath.”
Your hand shoots to your mouth and you quietly inhale, nibbling your bottom lip to stop the smile that wants to break out across your face.
“Do you want me to go?” he asks.
You drop your hand from your lips and reach for him. “No.”
He tilts his head and inches closer, his mouth lightly brushing yours.
Your fists clench the front of his Henley and your eyes close at the light press of his lips. You stay like that, trying to remember to breathe.
He pulls away only enough to stare at your mouth and then traces his thumb across your upper lip.
“What is it?” you ask with a worried tone.
His thumb falls to your lower lip and he gives it the same attention, savoring the softness.
“Why won’t you kiss me?”
He drops his hand from your lips and as his fingers fall they trace the outline of your neck before his hand wraps around the back of it and he brings you impossibly closer.
“I’m worried that once I start…” he breathes against your lips. “I won’t be able to stop.”
When he presses his lips to yours he groans low in the back of his throat, his hands desperate to get you closer.
The way you taste, the feel of your lips, your gasps and moans…he can’t stop.
He can’t stop.
Tumblr media
@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @kmc1989 @goldylions @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @littleseasiren @lizette50
2K notes · View notes
eupheme · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
— a good, good neighbor
john hancock x f!sole survivor/reader
rated e - 2.8k
tags: friends-with-benefits vibes, mutual yearning & jealousy, mention of chem usage, references to threesome, horny!desperate!hancock, desk/office sex, semi-public sex, piv, blowjobs
prompts: “i want to fuck you so badly” + “i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty.”
“How did you imagine us?”
“Every way,” Hancock husks, “Keeping my cock warm while I work. Eating you on the desk or bending you over it.”
“Hell, I’ve even thought about the balcony. I’d take you right over the fuckin’ railing if you’d let me.”
(Or - when you come back from a mission, Hancock can’t wait to get his hands on you)
Tumblr media
Despite the bustle inside the Third Rail, it’s all just dull noise.
Hancock can’t say he’s heard a word Fahrenheit has said. It’s not his fault she had cornered him inside the entrance, right as he was on his way in.
Where he has a perfect view of the bar.
A perfect view of you, where you perch on one of the stools in front of Charlie. Looking like a dream, in your soft, faded clothes.
Not that he doesn’t like your vault suit. The way it fits like a glove around your hips and thighs, the swell of your tits.
He’s always been a fan.
But there’s something about this - how you look like you belong here, with him. It’s been a while since he’s felt his heart stir, but you really seemed to have woken it up.
His partner huffs, finally stepping to the side. Her own plans tonight, eyes already drifting over to the stage. A long-suffering sigh - a hand that pushes her undercut back, a scrunch of her nose.
“Remind me to let you two… debrief next time, before I talk to you.”
Hancock grins, only now coming back, “You got it, sister.”
He owes her one. Tomorrow he’ll sit down and really listen, but it’s been a long fuckin’ week and the chems he downed in his office are just now taking effect.
Tipping him towards being too high to be jealous that you’re talking to another ghoul - a sentiment that he’s only just becoming acquainted with.
That was never really his style, before now.
And just a tad too sober to suggest Deegan just join them, if your conversation doesn’t wrap up soon.
Really fuckin’ soon.
It’s as he sidles up to you that he notices just how good you truly look. Scrubbed clean from the wasteland, and he’s already imagining you in the Rexford, hands sliding over your wet curves in the shower.
Getting ready to come here, applying that pretty shade of red that darkens your lips - a treasure found on a recent favor you did for Daisy.
Something that had kept you away for days, his jaw gritting as you had left without him.
It’s the same shade as his coat - and that does something, too. A clenching in his guts, a wash of need as he imagines it marking up his cock. A pretty ring around the base, staining his skin.
Christ, he needed to get it together.
Your eyes brighten when you see him, “I was hoping you’d find me. Heard you were still working.”
He fits against you, leaning on the bar. A hand draping across your shoulder - eager to touch, as your head tips up to his.
“Never too busy for my favorite girl.”
The smile you give him, those pretty painted lips stretched wide, shoots straight to his cock. Uncomfortable, where it strains against the front of his trousers - and maybe, he just might be head-over-heels.
He needs to get out of here.
“You want to get out of here?” He asks - the back of your neck warm where his palm curves around it, thumb brushing over soft skin.
Feeling the low hum in your throat, as you answer.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Tumblr media
“I want to fuck you so badly.”
Hancock growls it in your ear, as he wrenches the door to the Old State House open. Bypassing your room at the Rexford, opting for something closer.
He always seemed to like you in his bed. Late nights turning into slow mornings, getting acquainted with the soft drag of fingers against skin. Comparing scars until you’ve learned each and every one.
You think he’d keep you there, if he could. If you both weren’t so prone to wandering.
The rough admission sends your pulse racing. Never expecting to miss someone like you did him. Never thinking you’d get a chance like this again.
But something about being with Hancock feels so easy. Something invisible that ties you to him, but that tether is never-ending. Both of you always finding your way back to each other, in a slow orbit.
Never knowing what it truly meant to know that someone had your back - until you were looking down the barrel of something you weren’t supposed to come back from, out in the wasteland.
Knowing he would be there, as soon as you called.
“Then fuck me,” You sigh against him, at the landing of the second-floor staircase. The railing pressing into your back as his tongue licks into your mouth.
Hands fisting in the collar of his frock as his hips roll against yours. Getting turned around in path back to his room.
Ending up across the hall, in his new office. The door still cracked open as you both stumble inside. A soft sound of surprise when you find yourself bumping up against a heavy wooden desk, instead of the couches you’ve come to know so well.
He’s already herding you to the other side, moving his chair out of the way. Hoisting you onto the edge, before stepping between spread thighs.
Mouthing at your jaw, hands slipping beneath your shirt.
“Wrong room,” You sigh, as your arms wrap around his shoulders.
“Right fuckin’ room.” His hips meet yours, rolling himself against your core, “Know how many times I’ve dreamed about having you in here?”
The thought of him thinking of you has your thighs tightening around his hips. A needy moan when his hand fondles a breast over the fabric of your bra, before it’s slipping beneath.
“How-” You start, and then squeak as his fingers pinch against the tight peak of your nipple, “How did you imagine us?”
His black eyes are hazy when he pulls back. A shine on his lips from where his tongue soothed a mark left against your neck.
“Every way,” Hancock husks, “Keeping my cock warm while I work. Eating you on the desk, or bending you over it.”
You whine at the thought - a jolt of pleasure arcing through you as his hips jerk against yours, grinding against your clothed core.
“Hell, I’ve even thought about the balcony. I’d take you right over the fuckin’ railing if you’d let me.”
God, it’s tempting. Heat flaring to life in your cheeks at the thought - knowing he would.
He’s opened the doors to a lot of new aspects of yourself, but there’s still a shred of your old-world modesty that clings to you.
But it still sends a liquid warmth pooling in your belly. He can feel the way your hands tighten their grip that you’re picturing it too.
The balcony is out of the question, but the rest…
Your palms push at his shoulders, and he allows you just enough room to get down. To flip around until your hips are flush with the edge of the wide desk.
“Why don’t you show me?” You coo, with a glance over your shoulder, “Mister Mayor.”
There’s a flash of teeth with his smile - words as sweet and smooth as honey, “Sweetheart, call me that again and I’ll show you anything you want.”
His hand is quick to press at the small of your back, bending you across his desk like he had imagined. Your hand slipping down to work at the button and zipper of your pants, where he’s already gripping at the fabric to tug your layers down.
Hancock’s hips press into your bare center. Nudging the hard, clothed curve of his cock against yours, fingers already smoothing over your skin. Gripping on before nails drag over the curve of your ass, then slipping between your thighs.
You stifle a moan when he touches you, all slick and swollen already. A day-long lingering anticipation of seeing him, keyed up by his own laid-bare desire.
“You miss me, doll?” Hancock husks, when he finds how wet you are. The tips teasing your clit as he frees himself.
Fingers petting at your folds. Slicking them up until he can smear your arousal against his cock - the rough skin shining in the windows of light that peek in from the city outside.
“Yes,” You whine - he always seems to pull things from you, when he has you like this. Making you soft, willing to lay yourself open if it means he keeps touching you, “Hancock, please-”
The word strings out - as he grasps at your hips, tugging you back just as he drives himself deep into you. This is what you needed - the aching stretch, the way your blood sings already.
Squirming when he stays still, slipping half-way while his hands keep you pinned against the desk.
“Don’t slow down now,” You huff, as you rock back into his touch.
Hancock’s own laugh is low and throaty - you gasp when you feel his fingers slip from your hip. Boldly tracing where you stretch around him, letting his thumb rub at your clit until he can feel you clench.
“Just enjoying the view.” He husks, “It’s not every day I get to fuck someone so pretty.”
His words shoot straight through you, settling in your heart. So much understood and even more left unsaid.
You’re used to the before, when there were neat labels and expectations. Left on uneven footing now, with how the world has changed.
Maybe even scared to bare yourself fully - to let yourself feel so deeply for another person again.
But surely this - this partnership, his words, him - must mean something.
“It could be.”
It slips from you with a sigh, too late to snatch back. Something fluttering in your belly, a heady mix of apprehension and pleasure as he growls - a sharp thrust that has him filling you again.
A shift of his fingers until he’s circling your clit, with just the right pressure that he knows you need. A shallow roll of his hips that starts slow, and steady.
“That right?” His voice is low, lilting up at the end.
You couldn’t really ask him to join you - but tonight, you could pretend. The time you had spent together on the road was some of your best moments in this aftermath.
But you respected his decision to stay, to work a little harder at this Mayor business. Even if it had left you unsure of where you stood with each other.
Even if you did miss him, want him by your side.
“Yeah,” You manage, “Keeping touching me like that and, yeah-”
You can hear the smile in his voice as he answers, “Sunshine, you’re gonna have a harder time getting me to stop.”
He makes good on his promise.
A hand catching under your thigh, hoisting your knee onto the desk top. Opening you up further - a stifled cry pulling from you when he nudges deeper, stroking a spot inside you that steals your breath.
The door is still ajar - the thought of your whines and the slick drive of his cock has your heart pounding.
You’re sure he’d love that too - the shout of his name as he makes you come, echoing to where the drifters sleep above, and where the Watch lingers. The sound of his hips knocking yours into the desk, the rhythmic creak of old wood.
It still lingers as a whimper - bitten back as the pleasure builds. He hasn’t forgotten in the time you’ve been apart, pounding into you again and again. His touch circling just as he bottoms out, a pressure in his own belly with each gasp he pulls from you.
“Fuck, John.” You keen - a number already seeming to tick down inside you, with each circuit of his fingertips, “I’m gonna come-”
“That’s my girl,” He coos - keeping the same rhythm, the same steady pound that threatens to break you, “Give it to me. Soak my fuckin’ cock, sweetheart.”
His girl.
It echos - your cry going silent, when as the pleasure washes over you. Leaving you trembling as you ride out the waves of pleasure, meeting the thrusts that grow lazy.
You needed this, needed it as much as he does. So much packed noise inside your brain going quiet the harder he fucked you, now blissfully silent.
“Look at you,” It’s muted, as your back arches - as you drip around his cock, “You feel so fucking good, not gonna last-”
Almost as if he gets off to this - making you come. Taking you apart, until each breath is a wrung-out gasp, your fingers curling into fists.
It leaves you thinking that if he’s staying here - if he’s been thinking about you, you’ll give him something to remember.
Another check off of his list.
“Hancock,” You breathe - eyes heavy and dazed as you glance over your shoulder.
Where he’s arced over you - grinding himself deep. His own gaze blown-wide with need as it tips to meet yours.
“Come in my mouth,” You beg, “Let me taste you.”
Eyes flicking to his chair, still pulled up next to the desk. He’s always been able to follow you, a rough sound in his throat when the catches what you mean.
“Fuck.” His hips stutter, before he’s slipping from you, “Yeah. Yeah, doll. Anything you want.”
You’re sinking to unsteady knees in front of him, as he drops down into the chair. Knees spread wide as your hands run up his thighs, to where his cock hangs heavy against the unzipped fabric.
Already missing him inside you. A rough groan when your hand wraps around, before you’re swallowing him down. Tasting yourself smeared across him, as your cheeks hollow, your fist pumps.
“So fuckin’ perfect, you know that?” Hancock hisses, the words coming out ragged. Hips bucking into the wet suction of your mouth.
No teasing this time, no kitten-licks. Just the familiar weight of him on your tongue, the jerk of your spit-slicked fist.
A ragged sound slipping from him when your eyes drag up to meet his. Peeks of reddened and rough skin along the way that make you want to take a bite as well.
Noticing how he’s marked up with you - faded shades of red stained on his lips and chin. Littered across on his cock, down to the base.
You think you like the look of it, something warm flickering in your belly - an echo of the pleasure he gave you before.
Wanting him to think about you every time he sits here, after you leave. The feeling of your mouth around him, how hard you made him come. Leaving your own mark on this room, as well.
He groans at the way you watch, the soft lap of your tongue. How you squeeze him bringing him closer - waiting for him to show you how much he needs you.
“Fuck. You’re gonna make me come, gorgeous.” It’s a rough warning, as his hand cradles your jaw. The bite of nails against your neck, as his hips buck.
The groan he makes is loud and low - shameless - as he comes. His cock throbbing in your mouth, each pulse leaking his spend as you swallow him down. Coaxing every drop from him, until you’ve taken it.
Keeping him in your mouth, after - your tongue sweeping lazily across his skin, until he goes soft. Easing off him then, letting your head rest against his thigh.
Hancock’s head still tips back, lost in that soft haze. The shallow rise and fall of his chest, a week’s worth of want spilled across your tongue.
“Was that like you imagined?”
There’s the tilt of his head as he grins, his thumb reaching to press against your lower lip - a low growl when you nip at it.
“Even fuckin’ better.”
Tumblr media
The room shifts in front of you - Hancock’s boot propped against the desk, sending the chair back and forth on a slow sway.
Your legs thrown over the armrest, where you sit in his lap. The sounds of Goodneighbor muted outside, as the lights spill across the floor in the dark room.
“Thought I’d stick around a couple days.” You tell him, “Skip out later this week, maybe.”
“You just got in.” He rasps, fingers tracing a pattern against your shoulder, “Got somethin’ going already?”
You hadn’t planned on it. Had been hoping to stick around Goodneighbor for a while. Spend some time with him, before heading out.
But…
“Edward asked me to do a job for him,” You stifle a yawn, your head tilted against his, “Some girl he works for ran off, said she does that all the time.”
Duty always calls.
"Edward?" Hancock’s brow lifts.
“Deegan?”
His tongue clicks against his teeth, a soft pinch of his fingers against your skin, “Didn’t know you and Deegan were that chummy. Edward, huh?”
Your elbow sinks into his ribs, and he grins.
“Well, you don’t gotta wait on me,” He hums, already thinking ahead. “You wanna get this show on the road tomorrow?”
A small mark puckers your brow as you lean to face him, your gaze searching.
“I thought you stopped running.” It’s soft - a question, hidden in your words.
Hancock huffs, “Not running.”
His voice drops - a softness to his beetle-black eyes as he thumbs at your chin, drawing your mouth down to his.
“Just realized I’d rather be by your side.”
With his admission, the hungry press of his lips…
You think you fall just a little harder.
Tumblr media
loved the idea of a desperate/lovey Hancock paired with a sweetly oblivious “what are we” Sole, haha 💖 thanks for reading!! and for this perfect request!
685 notes · View notes
the-oblivious-writer · 10 months ago
Text
Poison Ivy & Daisies
Clarisse La Rue x Demi-god!Reader
One-shot
Summary: Clarisse La Rue has been on your mind since the day you saw her, but because of your nervousness and her stand-offish attitude, you could never build up the courage to actually talk to her. At least, that was until you tripped on a rock
Warning(s): Swearing, mentions of r being clumsy, no pronouns used, & nervous/awkward!r
Notes: This is my first work for Clarisse. I'm still getting used to writing for her character, lemme know what you think
Tumblr media
From the moment you stepped into camp, your mind has been plagued with thoughts of Clarisse La Rue—literally. The first time you saw her you thought you were looking at a princess. The person who was showing you around immediately warned you as soon as they noticed your longing stares.
You were then informed about Clairsse’s more… violent ways. You could care less. All you knew was that she was the most beautiful woman you have ever laid your eyes upon—but of course, you didn’t get the courage to talk to her until two months after you got to camp.
She was definitely stand-offish, that was evident. It wasn’t until you accidentally bumped into her that you finally spoke to her.
You were walking, not paying attention, when you suddenly tripped on a rock. You yelped as you tripped, but instead of meeting the ground like you expected, you bumped into someone. This person stumbled back a step before glaring at you, a glare so deadly you could feel it. 
Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when you caught sight of the person. Clarisse fucking La Rue. Just your luck. You gulped as you looked back at her. You opened your mouth to say something, but the sound failed to come out. 
“Watch where you’re going,” the Ares kid seethed with her fists balled up.
“R–right. Sorry, I didn’t see you,” you nervously apologized.
“Don’t let it happen again, or else,” she threatened before walking off. You were too busy wiping dirt off of your shirt to see Clarisse looking back at you one more time as she walked away.
The incident continuously haunted you. You finally get a chance to talk to your crush, and that is how it happens? 
The next time you saw her face to face was the following week. You were practicing your sword fighting when suddenly somebody approached the dummy near yours. You didn’t think much of it as you continued to focus on your swinging and slashing. 
“That’s my dummy,” you heard from beside you. You look over to see it was Clarisse who you heard. Any bit of confidence you had before instantly vanished.
“Your dummy?”
“Did I stutter?”
“Um, no—no you didn’t. I just—I just didn’t know.”
“And your slashing is pathetic,” Clarisse added before pushing you to the side. “You’re supposed to cross then stab. Not the other way around.” She rolled her eyes before demonstrating for you. After she showed you, she looked over to you again. “Are you just going to stand there? Repeat what I did.” 
You weren’t sure how, but from that point on you started going to daily practices with Clarisse. You’re still a little confused on the specifics. One moment, she seems repulsed by you, but the next, she was training you. She never outwardly said it, but daily training with Clarisse automatically became apart of both her and your routines. You weren’t complaining. 
Months and months of training led to this moment; capture the flag. You were surprised when Clarisse told you she wanted you on her team, usually people wanted the opposite. It didn’t take much convincing to get Annabeth on board. You couldn’t blame her; it’s not that you were bad at fighting, you just had the tendency to be clumsy at the worst times. 
Your job was simple—stick by Clarisse’s side. You missed the looks Clarisse’s half-siblings gave her when she revealed this part of the plan, and the glare she sent their way. 
You and Clarisse were crouched behind a tree, waiting for the right moment to act. While Clarisse’s eyes were busy surveilling the area, you were too busy admiring her in her armor. How could you not? It wasn’t until you felt something hit your chest armor, that you were pulled out of your trance. 
You looked down, startled, and saw that it was Clarisse who hit your chest armor. “Stay focused.” She said as she continued to look around.
“Right. Focused.” You cleared your throat, eyes following to where the other girl was staring. “You look really nice by the way. The armor suits you,” you complimented. You had no idea where the spur of confidence came from. All you knew was that Clarisse was gorgeous, and you hoped she knew it too.
The compliment caught her off guard. She had no idea as to why you said what you did, frankly it confused her. But before she could utter a word, she saw her teammates signal to her. Guess her response would have to wait.
After the incident—that being Percy breaking Clarisse’s spear, and then him being claimed by one of the big three—everybody made sure to steer clear of Clarisse. The scream she let out was a reminder of why. It has been awhile since anybody has seen her that enraged. The only person to not follow this unspoken rule was you. You knew enough to know how important that spear is to her, so you could imagine how infuriated, and upset she was to see it rip in half. 
You went to knock on her cabin’s door, but pulled your hand away when you noticed it was already open. You lightly pushed it open more before walking inside. Everybody else was gone, and it seemed like Clarisse was too until you caught sight of her sitting on the edge of her bed with both halves of her spear on her lap. She didn’t need to look up to see that it was you who walked in. 
“What are you doing here?” She inquired, not looking up from her broken spear. 
“I just wanted to check on you,” you responded in a painfully soft tone. 
“I’m fine.” Her tone was dry and monotone. You carefully got closer before sitting down beside her, and to your dismay, she didn’t tell you to go away. You watched as her thumb brushed against her spear’s handle. 
“Do you wanna talk about–”
“I don’t need your pity, nor your comfort,” Clarisse interrupted. 
“Right, sorry,” you responded as you nodded your head. You suddenly remembered what was in your back pocket. “Oh, I uh,” you pulled out a daisy from your back pocket. “I saw it and I just thought of you,” you shrugged as you held it for her to see.
“A daisy.” The flower's stem was a slightly bent, the pedals were a mess, yet it was still beautiful.
“Yeah—if it’s stupid I could just–”
“No!” Clarisse said louder than intended. She cleared her throat, “It’s fine, I mean.” Butterflies erupted in her stomach as she watched a smile graze your face. 
“Here,” your smile never faltered as you handed it to her. As she went to take it from your hand, her hand touched yours. The action caused heat to rush to the other's face.
“Thank you.” She averted her gaze, looking down at the daisy you handed her. “It’s… nice, I guess,” she uttered as she continued to study the flower.
“You welcome,” you replied as you looked at her admirably. “Sorry if it’s a bit messed up. It’s been in my back pocket for, like, a day.”
“It’s perfect.” Her words catch you off guard, a warm familiar feeling rushes through you—the same feeling you get when you think of the woman. 
“Perfect flower for a perfect girl,” you said with such fondness in your voice. Now it was your turn to catch Clarisse off guard with your words. She pulls her eyes away from the daisy to look at you. Nobody has ever called her perfect before, and she knew you meant it. 
Her eyes flickered down to your lips, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. It was just then that you realized how close your face was to hers. You both subconsciously begin to slowly lean in; “Can I kiss you?” You murmured. Instead of giving you a verbal response, her hand reaches up to softly cup your face before she leans in further. Her lips touches yours, sending electricity down your spine. Her lips were soft and welcoming as you kissed her back. 
But before the kiss could go any further, the cabin doors abruptly opened. Your lips tear away from hers as you both look over to see who was at the door. Of course, the person who happened to catch you and Clarisse kissing was an Aphrodite kid. You looked away with flushed cheeks while Clarisse tried as hard as she could to hide her embarrassed expression.
“What do you want?” She asked impatiently, her arms crossed.
With a smirk, the other camper responded. “I need Y/N’s help with something.” 
“Coming,” you managed to say. You got up to follow the camper, but not before looking back at Clarisse with a lovestruck expression. Clarisse could feel her heartbeat pick up as you made eye contact. When you left, she let out a sigh as she brushed back her hair.
No doubt this would be the talk of the camp by dinner. But for once, Clarisse didn’t mind.
-----------
A/N: Dior is actually so painfully gorgeous omg
2K notes · View notes
yoonbroom · 1 year ago
Text
SEVENTEEN FIC RECS
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a list of seventeen fics I really enjoyed! pls go and show these amazing authors some love <3 also if there wasn't a summary on the fic I just included a little paragraph or the request! now onto the recs ↓
Tumblr media
CHOI SEUNGCHEOL
HELLO TUTORIAL - @97-liners
oneshot, fluff, college au, frat au
it’s your final year of college, and you’ve been elected president of your sorority. this is all great and fine, but as the semester goes on, you find yourself having repeated run-ins with the president of the fraternity next door in a series of unfortunate coincidences (that might not actually be coincidences, as you come to discover). or: in which you’re trying to deal with your crush on seungcheol in a normal way, but the meddling kids are making it harder than it needs to be.
FRACTURED PARENTING, PT.2 - @berriesandjunnie
oneshot angst, fluff, idol au, separated parents au, enemies to lovers
parenting can be an emotional rollercoaster when you’re far from divorced and the flames are far from dying.
Tumblr media
YOON JEONGHAN
UNTITLED - @userjuyo
drabble, fluff, est relationship
"i just know than jeonghan would tease his s/o a lot, but whenever they went “hannie :(“ he would literally MELT like he’d just be like “okay sweetheart i’m sorry 🥺” and the members would be like ????? BC HE WON’T LET THEM LIVE but it’s his baby so &lt;;3"
UNTITLED - @wqnwoos
drabble, fluff, est relationship
“what if crabs think that fish can fly?” your question is whispered into the darkness of your bedroom — you gazing at the ceiling thoughtfully, while jeonghan curls up beside you.
OF RAINY NIGHTS AND ROSES - @chenfleur
oneshot, angst, fluff, idol au, est relationship
In the heat of the moment, Jeonghan grows careless with his words. Now, he has to bear the weight of saying things he didn't mean.
DAISIES - @viastro
oneshot, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers
the best type of revenge is to hurt the person that means the most to them. aka, in which jeonghan is in charge of making you fall in love with him, just to break your heart. 
Tumblr media
JOSHUA HONG
BEST FRIENDS BROTHER - @chocosvt
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, best friends brother
joshua happens to be your best friend’s older brother. he’s pretty, and he’s got a lot of cool details about him that you pay a concerning amount of attention to, but he’s just a friend (if you could even call it that). still, what does he think of you, anyway? that is—if he thinks of you.
IT TAKES TWO - @/berriesandjunnie
oneshot, fluff, idol au, parent au, est relationship
a family is a little scary when your partner has over millions of fans.
UNTITLED - @/wqnwoos
drabble, fluff, est relationship
"it feels like the sky has only just welcomed the sun when joshua tries to get up to leave."
Tumblr media
WEN JUNHUI
HEAVEN COULDN'T WAIT FOR YOU - @/berriesandjunnie
oneshot, angst, idol au
i just couldn’t stand to see you leaving but heaven couldn’t wait for you.
HAPPY ENDING - @junkissed
one shot, angst, fluff, marriage, est relationship
a pointless argument escalates until both of you need some space, but it couldn't come at a worse time.
Tumblr media
KWON SOONYOUNG
LET ME TRY AGAIN - @papermatisse
oneshot, angst, fluff, exes to lovers, parent au
Soonyoung had never wanted to live a restrained capitalistic life, forced to work a tiresome 9 to 5, paying taxes until the day he dies. Though in exchange to pursue the other option, that being devotion to a career, he had to pay an unfathomably large price—he had to abandon everything and everyone he's ever loved. can he fit himself back into his former life? one that's changed more than he can possibly imagine? could the ones he loved forgive him for his wrongdoings? could he get the second chance he wants so desperately?
(UN)TRADITIONAL - @neonun-au
oneshot, fluff, wedding au, est relationship
"The digital clock on the hotel night stand flashes the next minute as it passes. A re-run of Law & Order: SVU drones on in the background as you sit at the edge of the bed, staring sleeplessly at your wedding dress hanging on the back of the closet door. "
VOWELS AND VERACITY - @hansolmates
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, teacher au, single parent
after a blind date that makes you feel like a giddy teenager all over again, you’re forced to grow up and take a chance when you realize that special someone is your daughter’s kindergarten teacher.
BE SWEET - @heartkyeom
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, royalty, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers
“Why are you here?” Your tone is resolute, not allowing for even an inch of resistance. “That’s what we need to talk about. We’re getting married,” He lifts the corner of his mouth. You let out a laugh that is nowhere near polite, in fact, you’re nearly cackling at the prospect of this idea. It’s simply so outlandish, so fantastical that every time you look at his face it seems more unfathomable.
Tumblr media
JEON WONWOO
FOR THE BOOKS - @trblsvt
oneshot, fluff, teacher au, est relationship
wonwoo's students seemed intent on matching him up with a fellow teacher. he didn't really want to stop them, it was too funny for him to break up their fun. plus, he didn't mind the certain someone he was being "set up" with.
HOW TO FALL - @because-of-a-friend
oneshot, fluff, angst, idol au
"hi!! <3 i love ur acc and i was wondering if you'd be able to write an imagine where you're besties with joshua and he invites you to meet the rest of seventeen for the first time and you instantly fall for wonwoo? maybe some angst but overall fluff? thank you!! no rush!! i love your work!!!"
UNTITLED - @/97-liners
oneshot, fluff, royalty au, friends to lovers, childhood friends
"a royalty au where you’re the heir to the throne and wonwoo is your shy (and lowkey bumbling) royal advisor…. he’s smart and always has his head stuck in a book but he’s also painfully awkward and clueless to how deeply in love with him you are. until your parents decide it’s time for you to get married. and suddenly you’re inundated by suitor after suitor, and wonwoo is quizzing them on their credentials and doubting their suitability for you, this one makes brash political decisions, this one spends too freely, this one has no tact for diplomacy. until one day, you turn to him and ask, “you’ve hated every single one of them. who, then, do you think i should marry?” and wonwoo blushes red and presses his lips together."
SCANDAL, PT.2, PT.3, PT.4- @fantasyescapes17
series, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, regency au
this is part of an extensive series that includes other members! you can check it out ⤳ here
The Viscount's sister with an enormous dowry, beauty and unmistakable talent- you began the London season as the most desired woman in any room. But Jeon Wonwoo (a man who would rather hide in the library than dance at a ball) is beyond your comprehension. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but it embroiled you into a scandal with a man you could never love.
MEET CUTE OF THE CENTURY - @lovelyhan
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, idol au, strangers to lovers
the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by.
MARRIAGE - @yikesmary
drabble, fluff, parent au, est relationship
where wonwoo’s nightmare is coming true.
BIRTHDAY SURPRISE - @/yikesmary
oneshot, fluff, parent au, est relationship
where you and nari try to make breakfast and a cake before wonwoo wakes up… if only your daughter knew what the word “surprise” meant.
Tumblr media
LEE JIHOON
GUITAR STRING - @leejungchans
oneshot, fluff, angst, royalty au
"“Take me away.” Jihoon’s elegant fingers, previously plucking at his guitar strings, freeze at your words. The soothing, lullaby-like chords he had been playing echo into the inky darkness, carried away by the chilly night breeze."
WE'LL BE OK - @atinykidult
drabble, angst, fluff, idol au, est relationship
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you” for hurt!Jihoon
LIVE - @wondernus
oneshot, fluff, idol au, est relationship
having just finished composing a song a few hours ago, jihoon starts a live on his phone to sing to those who are feeling a little lonely at night. little does he know, your sleeping figure could be seen in the corner of his little livestream, causing his fans to go crazy.
MWHA - @cheolism
oneshot, fluff, est relationship
three times you said "mwah" at the end of a kiss and one time jihoon said it back
IM DATING WOOZI - @jihoonotes
oneshot, fluff, smau, est relationship, idol au
y/n is in a public relationship w/ woozi of SVTZ and decides to make a twitter acc to support jihoon, but SVTZ fans seem to think they're delusional.
JIHOON'S PUPPY - @rubyreduji
oneshot, angst, fluff, college au
jihoon can’t seem to shake the puppy dog who keeps following him around or the teasing he gets for it
HEARTSTRINGS - @wavelikewhat
oneshot, fluff, strangers to lovers, idol au
You help Jihoon meet an unexpected deadline for a song and he wonders why he can’t stop thinking about you. Luckily his members nudge him toward the answer.
Tumblr media
LEE SEOKMIN
WARM ME UP ! - @ponkwan
drabble, fluff, est relationship
the one where you’re on your third date with seokmin.
Tumblr media
KIM MNGYU
HOT OR COLD? - @jjuniehao
oneshot, fluff, est relationship
when looking for something on his phone, you find an email you didn’t expect…
BOYFRIEND PHOTOS - @babyleostuff
oneshot, fluff, est relationship, idol au
a sunny date spent with your precious boyfriend
Tumblr media
XU MINGHAO
THE LETTER - @toruro
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, brothers best friend, childhood friends to lovers, idol au
in which you’re jun's little sister and have been pining for a man so close yet so out of reach for ages. now, years later, when you see minghao all grown up, famous, and still making your heart flutter, you're not so sure what to do about your not-so-little crush.
Tumblr media
BOO SEUNGKWAN
A BEAUTIFUL LIFE - @sungbeam
oneshot, fluff, childhood friends, est relationship
Boo Seungkwan asked you to marry him beneath the shade of an orange tree.
Tumblr media
CHWE VERNON
ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE - @suhnshinehaos
series, fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, arranged marriage, smau
the one where you get into an arranged marriage with your childhood best friend vernon, but neither of you seem to mind that much
UNTITLED - @/wqnwoos
drabble, fluff, est relationship, idol au
“vernon, we need to talk.”
OR, WOULD YOU RATHER IT BE ME? - @thepixelelf
oneshot, fluff, childhood friends to lovers, college au, soulmate au
A detested soulmark, a friendship over a decade in the making, and an unexpected proposal from one friend to another… what could possibly go wrong?
Tumblr media
LEE CHAN
SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE - @/berriesandjunnie
oneshot, fluff, est relationship, parent au, idol au
no matter what stage in life you’re at, or after all these years, you can count on his hyungs to still treat him the same.
08:23 AM - @wheeboo
drabble, fluff, est relationship, idol au
in which chan is late to dance practice.
Tumblr media
want recs for other groups? check out my navigation → here!
3K notes · View notes
starkwlkr · 5 months ago
Text
beautiful boy | cillian murphy
do I know anything about labor and the process? no 😭 pls remember this is fanfiction and idk anything about childbirth
barbenheimer series
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The day Y/n began to feel ill, she had an idea of what was going on. Of course she did some math and realized her period was late. Cillian was still filming in the uk so she was alone in their cottage. A little family owned market was close by so she decided to walk there to buy a pregnancy test just to make sure. The owners already knew her and Cillian, they were nice people that brought great comfort to her.
While she was there, she figured she might as well get some groceries that she needed. As she browsed the aisles for spices and other items, she got a text from Cillian.
C ❤️
i should be done filming soon. i miss you.
She quickly replied.
Okay, I’ll pick you up from the airport. I love you more ❤️
After she payed for her items, Y/n walked back to her cottage. She put away her groceries rather than immediately take the test. She didn’t want to get her hopes up so she occupied her mind with something else.
It wasn’t until she thought about Cillian, that’s when she decided that it was time to take it. She grabbed the small box from the bag and walked to her bathroom. She read the instructions over and over again until she ripped open the box.
“It’s going to be fine, you’re going to be fine.” Y/n whispered to herself.
Tumblr media
Y/n was early to the airport the day Cillian was scheduled to come back home. She couldn’t contain her excitement. It had been months since they last saw each other and she desperately wanted to feel him close to her.
She finally spotted him wearing sunglasses and a hat, his outfit reminded her of the crappy disguises superheroes wore when they were under cover.
“Well hello Tommy Shelby.” She said in a flirty voice.
“You’re hilarious.” Cillian replied. He placed his hands on her cheeks and kissed her on the lips. “Let’s go home, I’ve missed you too much.”
Cillian wanted to drive, but Y/n wouldn’t let him. After all he did come back from a long flights and months of filming, he needed the rest. Eventually Y/n and Cillian made it back home. He quickly took notice of the garden she had made while he was gone.
“You’ve been busy.” Cillian got out of the car. He opened the trunk and got his luggage out. “Are those red poppies?” He pointed out.
“Yeah. I also planted tulips and daisies.” Y/n pointed to the flowers that decorated her front porch.
Cillian then saw the light blue flowers next to the poppies. “Forget me nots, your favorite.” He smiled.
“You remember?” Y/n asked. She had told him about her favorite flower many dates ago.
“I never forgot.” Cillian replied. “Ha, forget me not, I never forgot.” He tried to joke.
“Funny.” Y/n chuckled lightly. “Come in, I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh?”
“It’s not what you think.” Y/n rolled her eyes playfully.
Cillian opened the door allowing Y/n to walk in first. He saw their home completely normal so it wasn’t something like a new furniture piece or art work that she had bought.
“Okay, wait here.” Y/n instructed. She walked to their shared bedroom and came back with something in her hands, Cillian wasn’t sure what it was. “I never told you I was feeling sick when you were away, I didn’t want you to worry and i most certainly didn’t want you to leave your work and fly back just for me. I had an idea of what was wrong with me so I went to the market and got a pregnancy test and it’s positive.” She nervously said. That’s when she showed Cillian the pregnancy test.
Cillian immediately pulled Y/n into a tight embrace, burying his face in her shoulder. “Oh, I love you so much.”
“We’re going to be parents.” Y/n whispered as her eyes filled with tears.
As they held each other, Cillian knew that his life would never be the same. But he also knew that with Y/n by his side, he was ready to embrace the journey of fatherhood.
Tumblr media
MONTH 3
“People are starting to ask questions. What do I say to them?”
“Tell them you don’t know me.”
Her assistant, Joli, had been on the phone with her for the past hour. Y/n had finally told Joli about the pregnancy. Only a few people knew, obviously both of the parents’ families and close friends, but apart from them, no one knew that Cillian and Y/n were going to be parents and they liked it that way.
“You know I can’t do that. Listen, I love you and I’m happy for you and Cillian, but are you really going to step away for good?” Joli asked.
“Not entirely. I’ll just take a break.”
“Y/n, no one has seen you for a while.” Joli stated. “But when you decide to come back, I’ll be here. If you or Cillian ever need anything, let me know.”
“Thanks, Joli.” Y/n smiled. Joli was always her biggest supporter.
“You’re going to be an amazing mom.”
Tumblr media
MONTH 7
Y/n loved her quiet life. She was living in a cottage starting her family with the love of her life. What more could she want?
Her stomach was growing everyday and it amazed her every time. The gender was going to be a surprise so all the baby clothes and furniture was gender neutral. She even wrote down some gender neutral names that her and Cillian might like.
“Here,” Cillian came back from the kitchen with a glass of cold lemonade. “Let me know if you want a refill.”
Y/n and Cillian were enjoying some time in their garden. All this time at home, Y/n picked up a new hobby and in no time, the couple had their own garden.
“Thank you, my love.” Y/n replied as she grabbed the glass from Cillian’s hands. “I’ve been thinking about the name Rowan, cute or not?”
“Rowan, Rowan . . . Rowan Murphy-L/N.” Cillian tested it out. “Not sure. Can you imagine yourself yelling the name Rowan like what if our child is running and you have to yell their name for them to stop. Rowan! Hmm, I don’t know.”
Y/n began to laugh at Cillian’s words. “That’s how you decide if the name is good or not?”
“It’s a good way, just try it.” Cillian encouraged.
Y/n hesitated a bit, but cleared her throat. “Rowan! Rowannnn!”
“See? Now what’s the verdict?”
“The verdict is . . . We have to find another name.”
Tumblr media
JULY 21ST, 2013
Cillian was thankful that he didn’t have to work that day. It was all going good. Y/n was in the final days of pregnancy and everything was ready for the arrival of baby murphy. Around 2PM was when Cillian’s driving skills were put to the test.
“Fuck! Fuck! I hate this! I’m never having kids again!” Y/n groaned. “Hey, did I ever tell you how much I love you?”
“Not recent-” Cillian said as he kept his eyes on the road. They were only two minutes from the hospital.
“I hate you right now! But I love you so so much, but I fucking hate you!”
“Love you too, baby.”
Soon, Y/n was being taken by nurses to labor and delivery. Cillian made sure to call both of the families to let them know that in a matter of minutes, he would be a father and Y/n would be a mother.
“Are you Mr. Murphy?” A nurse asked. “Your wife is calling for you.”
Wife. He loved the sound of that.
Cillian quickly ended the call with his mother and ran to Y/n’s room. “Hey, I’m here.” He grabbed her hand, placing gentle kisses on it.
“Do our parents know?” Y/n asked.
“I just got off the phone with them. They’re so happy for us.” He smiled.
Thankfully, a C-section wasn’t needed. Baby Murphy entered the world crying. He was perfect in the eyes of his parents.
“Congratulations, it’s a beautiful boy.” The nurse announced.
“A boy.” Cillian whispered to Y/n. “Our beautiful boy.”
“Alex. His name is Alexander or Alex. I like it.” Y/n said, completely out of breath.
“Alexander Murphy-L/N. That sounds perfect.” Cillian smiled.
Tumblr media
TAGLIST
@leclercloml @butterfly-skinnylegend @rockerchick05 @equallyshaw @agustdpeach @celesteablack @hnybitches @ietss @probablypossesedbysatan @kittyrumbl3r @electrobutterfly @knpgituloh @butlersluvbot @captainwans @bellstwd @theekileypage @marti-su @multifans-things @ceruleanrainblues @litterallnobody @jackierose902109 @sinarainbows @cosniffee @thatgirlthatreadswattpad
509 notes · View notes
axelsagewrites · 7 months ago
Note
Hello,
Can you write an ivar x reader where, as a child reader had a crush on ivar and followed him around. He ends up saying mean things about her to his brothers, not realizing she can hear him. He ends up realizing he has feelings for her but she ends up moving away. Years later, she returns, and she's extremely pretty. Ivars hoping to confess how he feels, but his brothers have also noticed how pretty she's become.
Ivar the Boneless*Shy
Pairing: Ivar x f!reader
Word count: 2081
Tumblr media
Warnings: being a shy kid, ivar being bullied by his brothers, ivar being mean as a kid, jealousy, ragnarsson brothers hitting on reader, angst fluff
Masterlist here
As the daughter of a Viking warrior and earl you were expected to be tough and ferocious and rambunctious and all other Viking traits. However, at five years old you were shy, timid, and terrified of Kattegat. You were here with your father on ‘business’ and had been practically clinging to the backs of his legs since you arrived.
It was Ragnar who suggested his sons show you around. Ten-year-old Ubbe took charge of that, giving you a tour around Kattegat as you silently nodded along. Eight-year-old Hvitserk and seven-year-old Sigurd couldn’t have cared less you were there so long as you were quiet when following them all around.
Five-year-old Ivar was sceptical at first, being equally as silent as you. Eventually you ended up at the edge of the forest sat beside Ivar as you watched the older three ‘train’ sword fighting with sticks. Ivar was angrily stabbing the dirt with his stick and didn’t even notice when you wondered off. However, he looked with interest when you returned, what looked like a hundred picked flowers in your apron.
You sat back beside him, dumping the flowers on the ground as you began to fashion a flower crown. “What are you doing?” Ivar’s voice made you jump making him mumble, “Sorry,” as he shuffled to see what you were creating.
“Daisy chains,” you told him, and you sat in silence as he watched you turn the hundred little flowers into a perfectly crafted crown. The whole thing was oddly fascinating for Ivar. “How does it look?” you asked as you placed it on your head.
Ivar grinned, “I love it,” and a toothy smile appeared on your face, “what else can you do?”
Soon you began to play games in the dirt, carving tik tac toe into it with the stick he’d been using earlier. You were laughing away so oblivious you didn’t realise the older boys had gotten bored and wandered off till you heard something howl in the distance.
“Where did they go?” you asked panicked.
“They do that sometimes,” Ivar shrugged. He’d gotten used to his brothers’ antics, but he’d been so wrapped up in the game he hadn’t noticed this time, “We’ll be fine, don’t worry,” another howl, “Okay maybe worry a little,”
Unfortunately, still Ubbe had been the one to carry him here. Ivar tried to pull himself along but soon you were trying to pull him through the forest. “I hate this!” he pouted, trying to pull away.
“It’ll be easier if you’re still!” you snapped, pulling his arms harder in frustration. “Wait here,” you dropped him with a huff as you went to grab a fallen branch.
“What are you doing?”
“Use it like a walking stick,” you said, hooking your arm around his back like in a three-legged race.
“This wont work,” he huffed making you glare. Begrudgingly he tried the crutch and a small washed over his face in a few steps. “I’m walking!”
“You’re walking!” you gleefully joined in as you helped him out the Forrest as the sun began to set. More laughter followed you on the way home though you had no idea that Aslaug had already found his brothers and scolded them immensely when she realised, you’d both been left behind. The anger soon washed away as you and Ivar walked into view.
For the next few days, you and Ivar did everything together. You were essentially attached at the hip. One evening while playing inside the Lodbrok’s house due to the storm outside Aslaug called you to the other room to rebraid your now messy hair.
“Bye boys. Bye Ivar,” you grinned before running to join Aslaug, all shyness gone.
“Bye Ivar,” Hvitserk and Sigurd teased, blowing kisses at Ivar.
“Shut up,” he grumbled.
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“Are you gonna marry her?”
“Please what girl wants to marry a cripple?”
“Have you kissed her yet?” even Ubbe joined in the teasing now and any semblance of calm was soon gone.
“No!” Ivar screeched. “I don’t even like her!”
“You’re right,” Ubbe smirked, “you love her,” more fake kissing noises came from the three of them.
“Do not!” another screech came from him. He hadn’t seen Aslaug stand from the other room to come see what the fuss was all about, nor did he see you by her ankles, “She’s ugly and weird and I hate her!”
“Ivar!” Aslaug’s voice was the only one louder than Ivar’s. You however didn’t even wait before turning on your heels and running out the house into the storm. “No, wait!” Aslaug tried to stop you, but your feet were too fast.
 You came burling up to your father, burying your head in his legs sobbing. “I want to go home. I hate it here. I hate it!” and for the rest of your trip which was thankfully only another day you clung to his side again. You vowed as you rode away, you’d never return.
-
The glares Ivar was getting from his mother could cut glass. “why would she play with you after all those things you said?” she hissed after pulling him aside.
“I didn’t mean it,” he mumbled, already on the verge of tears when you refused to play with him all day before leaving, “she wasn’t supposed to hear it,”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have said it,”
-
Ivar was convinced you’d come back. a week later, maybe a month. Possibly a year. He kept changing the goal post when you never came. He got his hopes up at one point when he saw your father but was disappointed when he realised, you’d been allowed to stay home this time. The more years that passed the more he forgot.
He was shocked when he saw you again in the first time in over a decade. He almost didn’t recognise you at first, but you could say the same about him. You weren’t some shy, meek little girl anymore. You wore an infection smile, you laughed loudly, and you were downright gorgeous. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one to notice.
Its all his brothers had been talking about since you arrived this morning. “I hope mother has them over for dinner tonight,” Hvirserk said as the boys practised their axe throwing, “See if she wants to catch up,” the way he wiggled his brow made Ivar want to throw his axe at him.
Especially when the other two joined in with their agreements. “Please as if you have a chance brother,” Ubbe smirked, flinging the axe and almost hitting the bullseye, “Girl like that needs a real man,”
With a growl Ivar flung his own axe into the bullseye, knocking Ubbe’s out of place in the process before dragging himself away before he sunk his next axe in someone’s eye. “Talk about someone with no chances,” he heard Sigurd laugh as he stalked away.
-
You didn’t come over for dinner that night like they’d all hoped but rather the next day they saw you in the hall as your fathers celebrated their latest decision to go raiding together. You’d came in later than most and eyes were drawn to you instantly.
“Red is defiantly her colour,” Hvitserk slurred beside him, already several ales in, “I’m going to talk to her,” he tried to stand but Ubbe put a hand on his shoulder.
He pushed him back into his seat, “Brother you’re drunk. You’ll scare her of. Allow me to welcome her,”
“Please if you don’t want to scare her, I should go,” Sigurd joined the protests.
None of them except Ivar whose eyes never left you had noticed you walking straight for them, “Hello boys. Long time no see,” you smiled, even sending a small one to Ivar which made him wonder if you’d forgotten the whole affair.
“Well, well, look who it is,” Ubbe grinned, going in for a hug that made Ivar want to rip his skin off, “You look so different,” he said as he pulled away.
“Good different,” Hvitserk jumped in, “I barely recognised you,”
“I thought you always looked beautiful but now you’re just- “Sigurd rambled as you awkwardly blushed praying for them to stop. “a woman now,”
“Thanks?” you said, glancing down at Ivar, “Ivar,” all he could do was nod in response, scared anything he said would make it worse. “Well, I need to say hello to my family. I’ll see you boys around,” oh gods how he’d fucked this up.
-
While many were still in the hall drinking there had been a bonfire lit in the village square that Ivar was now staring into blankly. He’d left the festivities a while ago though he knew he wouldn’t be missed. There were a few people sitting around the fire, most with ale in their hands or a woman on their arms being obnoxious. If his legs didn’t hurt, he’d go into the forest to get away from them all.
“Hey,” a small, timid voice came from behind him making him turn. “Can I sit?” it was like you were children again, him permanently silent and you scared to even move.
Ivar nodded before turning back to the fire as you moved to sit beside him. You sat in silence for a few moments, staring into the flames. The fire was a good excuse for why Ivar’s cheeks felt so hot, but he knew deep down it was because of you.
“How have you been- “
“I’m sorry,” the words came spluttering out his mouth before he could think, his head whipping round to face your shocked expression, “For everything I said. I didn’t mean it, but I said it and I hated myself for it,” he paused when you stayed silent, turning back to the flames, “I doubt you even remember it. It was so long ago,”
A moment passed before you spoke even quieter than before, “I remember,” the words made his heart shatter, “I used to hate you,” somehow it broke more.
“And now?”
You turned to him with a small smile, “Now I’m not five anymore,” a smile crept onto his own face, “Besides if I’m to move here ill need someone to keep me company,” you grinned, nudging his knee with your own.
“You’re moving here?”  Ivar felt his heart light up as you chuckled, nodding to confirm his glee. Then a sinking feeling hit him, “Did you tell my brothers yet?”
Ivar would be lying if he said the grimace on your face didn’t fill him with joy, “Not yet. You’re the only one of them who looked at my face the whole night,” you chuckled. He laughed but he felt his cheeks tinge pink, “They’re an interesting bunch, ill give them that. also, who’s Margaret?”
“What?” Ivar spluttered as you shrugged.
“Some girls told me to be careful after they saw me talking to Ubbe,”
He couldn’t help laughing a little, “Oh you’ve missed so much,”
“Good thing we’ve got plenty of time to catch up,” you grinned.
-
For the next week you were inseparable. Attached at the hip almost. It brought a smile to Aslaug face and a grimace to every boy your age. You’d both heard the subtle jabs about your closeness from his brothers, especially Sigurd, but somehow when you would put your hand on his clenched fist under the table, he felt his anger melt away.
You also seemed to be the only one who did not notice his legs. Right now, you were both sat by a tree on the edge of a lake as Ivar stared across the water and you worked daisies into your flower crown. “You’re improving,” he teased, seeing this one was in a much better state than your previous attempts.
“Please, id like to see you try,” you snorted, “You’re too rough to even make one chain,”
“I’m not rough with you,” he defended, and his heart melted at the small smile on your face.
“I know,” there was a breeze in the air, a slight chill that made you huddle closer, and no one else around to ruin the quiet. Ivar didn’t even protest when your head eventually made its way onto his shoulder, and you said nothing when his arm went around yours. For once everything was perfect. Especially when Ivar finally brought up the courage to say what he’d been thinking since the moment you reappeared in his life.
“I think I’m falling in love with you,”
Taglist Sign Up Here
General taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate @justtilly @jjkjbhj @clairacassidy @valeskafics @perla434 @selenestar78 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @urfavnoirette @randomstory56 @qardasngan @https-luvvia @im-the-fucking-lunar-prince @bryandechartisasmolbean @glorywielder101 @tiinkerbell @the-holy-pigeon @andreaxxx44
Vikings Taglist: @fleureeee @ellabellabus07 @youn-jo @batmandallyboy @retro-baby69 @lenasdmns @thelirofnorthlands @tessakate @hypocritic-trash-baby @ringpopdust @thefirebreather00 @sashadevil766 @eldritch-bunny-teeth @re-per @weasleytwins-41 @daughter-ofthe-forest @dreamspirit666 @sununicorn @vlynccx @goldenheart703 @huskyhunny @cathattery @moneypriestess @kanday @baby-w3-ar3-infinite @the-holy-pigeon @way-too-addicted-to-anime  @kanday @moneypriestess
645 notes · View notes
ellatoone7 · 7 months ago
Text
❄︎ Trust in me ❄︎
Alexia's favourite girls series
Tumblr media
Emilia has some concerns over her future
Emilia had known for a while that maybe football wasn’t her life. From her very first session when she was a lot younger, she always had more of a fascination with picking flowers and making daisy chains or doing cartwheels across the field instead of kicking the ball. She had started gymnastics a few years ago and had taken a very keen liking to it. 
However, as she got older, she wanted to prioritise gymnastics, but the guilt of quitting football was slowly creeping up on her. It didn’t help that her older sister absolutely thrived on the football field, Emilia couldn’t help but notice how her Mami’s eyes absolutely lit up with pride as she watched Issy playing football. The last thing Emilia wanted was to disappoint her Mami. Her Mami, who went above and beyond for her and always showed up no matter what. Her Mami, who had won so many different awards for just how good she was at playing football. Her Mami, who always made her feel safe and so incredibly loved. 
Emilia was always encouraged to communicate her feelings to her parents, something that was instilled into her since she was much younger. Now she was eight years old and for the first time ever she was a little bit scared to talk to her Mami. Emilia had been working up the courage to tell her Mami that she didn’t want to play football anymore, but it just so happened that Isabella had won a very important match and Mami was bringing them to get ice cream to celebrate. Mami was smiling so big, and Emilia didn’t want to be the reason her Mami got upset. 
It didn’t take a lot for Alexia to notice something was wrong with Emilia. The normally animated girl was unusually quiet as she shovelled some ice cream into her mouth. Isabella was on cloud nine as she conversed with her Mami on the tactics of the game and whether they should stick or change it up slightly. “…Tal vez deberíamos poner a Lola en la delantera el próximo Partido.” Emilia’s head dropped even lower as she listened to her Mami and sister converse. Alexia got increasingly more worried as it had been at least an hour with complete radio silence from Emilia. They were on their way home now, all packed into Alexia’s Cupra as she turned the volume of Rosalia’s new song down a little. 
Isabella was still mumbling away happily as she brushes a little bit of grass off her kit. Emilia was staring at her older sister, Mr Biggy clutched in her arms and Alexia thought that maybe Emilia was a little jealous over her sisters win. Completely misinterpreting the situation Alexia looks through the mirror with a small smile, “Hey Meels, you have a big match coming up too. I can’t wait to come watch you play.” Emilia’s heart clenched in her chest at the hopeful look in her Mami’s eyes and she forced a tight smile and a nod which seemed to placate an oblivious Alexia who had made the situation much worse.
Isabella smiled softly at her younger sister, “Meels, you can wear my green boots, the ones that you loved.” Emilia once again nodded before curling in on herself that little bit more. Emilia decides then and there that she wasn’t going to be selfish and just work harder at football. She didn’t want to make Isabella or Mami upset and maybe she would enjoy it. She loved watching Mami play when she used to play for Barcelona, and she loves going to Isabella’s games. 
Emilia’s mind raced with all her favourite people and most of them played football, all her Tia’s who raised her on a football field, and she was now just throwing it away. Before Emilia knew it her eyes were filling with tears as she tried to swallow around the lump in her throat. The blonde tried to breath and calm herself down, but she was all worked up now and she wanted some comfort from her Mami while she still could. “Mami, No me siento bien.” She sniffled as the tears started falling down her flushed cheeks. Alexia quickly found somewhere to poll over so she could give her daughter her full attention. 
Alexia unbuckled her seat belt and turned her body around to make sure Emilia hadn’t gotten sick. She was in full Mami mode, and it felt like her heart stopped beating as Emilia cried. Isabella held her little sisters’ hand with her own frown of concern and started gently rubbing her back in hopes to provide some comfort. “¿Qué pasa nena?” Alexia questioned as Emilia struggled to catch her breath until eventually, she reached out just like she used to when she was a little bit younger. Before she knew it her car door was open, and she was in her Mami’s arms. She buried her face into her Mami’s neck as she whimpered softly, clinging into her jumper as her Mami sways her gently. 
Alexia was distraught as she tried to calm her daughter who she hadn’t seen this upset in a very long time. Alexia wished you were here in hopes of getting Emilia to open up, but Daniela was way too little to leave the house yet, so you stayed at home with Val. Emilia whimpered again and Alexia needed to get her home and hold her until all her hurt went away. Isabella had also got out of the car to wrap her arms around both girls. “¿Se siente mal?” Emilia had a history of motion sickness and still had trouble with long car journeys, but she had never cried like this. The only response she got was a shrug as she sniffled softly, “Vale, mi princesa, we are nearly home just a few more minutes.” 
Alexia felt as if her heart was being ripped out of her chest as Emilia cried for her the minutes she put her back into her seat. Isabella tried to be a replacement, but Emilia wanted her Mami. Emilia was sobbing now completely overwhelmed by her big emotions as she squirmed in her seatbelt, whining for her Mami as she got into the front seat. Alexia tore of her jumper in hopes to calm Emilia down with her familiar smell, Isabella held it close to her sister as she gently stroked her hair. Not even Mr Biggy was comforting Emilia and she hated hat she couldn’t stop crying. 
Alexia had to drive slowly as her hands had started to shake slightly and she would never put her girls in risk. Alexia didn’t stop talking the whole way home, eyes frantically checking her mirror every time Emilia cried out her name. “Mami! I need you!” Isabella cooed pressing kisses to Emilia’s temple as Alexia pulled into your driveway. Alexia’s heart was absolutely shattered, her baby needed her and nothing in the world mattered more than getting her into her arms. 
“Estoy aquí mi bebé, estás a salvo. Estamos en casa y te tengo siempre mi princesa.” Isabella ran into the house bringing Alexia’s jumper and Mr Biggy as she made sure Emilia’s bed was nice a cozy. “Hey, Is, You’re home how did you get…?” You immediately noticed something was wrong when Isabella didn’t stop fidgeting with Emilia’s bed. “What’s wrong Issy?” You gently asked as you grabbed her hands, “Something’s wrong with Emilia Mama.” Isabella fell into you as she yearned for her own comfort, your mind raced with endless possibilities, but you remained calm and held your eldest close. “She wouldn’t stop crying and calling for Mami.” You shushed her gently as you focused on making her feel better. 
You slowly kneeled, still a bit sore from just giving birth a few weeks ago. ‘Look at me Issy, everything’s okay. Mami has Emilia and we will find out what’s wrong, there is nothing to worry about okay.” You felt Isabella relax in your hold as you placed kisses against her cheek, “You are the best big sister ever and I love you very much.” Isabella smiled feeling a lot better now that her thoughts had been reassured. With one last kiss and a promise to let her stay up a bit later tonight, Isabella was guided to go have a shower after her game. 
The minute you caught eyes with your wife you knew something was very wrong. Emilia had Alexia’s shirt in such a tight grip that you were worried her little hand was going to cramp. Alexia was walking slowly into the house as Emilia cried softly into her neck, you approached at the same pace, gently stroking her blonde hair and coaxing her out of her Mami’s shoulder. Emilia whimpered at the interruption but when she saw it was you, she cried out your name, your wife gently passed her on to you. She didn’t go far as her arms slithered around you and pulled you both into her body. 
You took some time to cradle Alexia’s head and press kisses to her temple, she looked heartbroken as she leaned further into you. “It’s all okay, we are right here Meelie. What hurts baby?” Emilia shakes her head as she looks around wildly, eyes swollen and red. “Do you want to go lie down?” Emilia nodded softly as you readjusted her with a slight wince. Alexia was on full alert mode and her hands hovered your body as you placed a reassuring kiss to her lips. “Can you check on Dani, I put her down about twenty minutes ago?” Alexia nodded as she sighed softly, “Everything is going to be fine Alé.” Alexia kisses you again and coaxes Emilia out of your neck so she could give her the most loving kiss as she smoothed out her hair. “Te amo tanto mi princesa, eres mi todo.”
To her relief Emilia smiled softly and kissed her Mami’s cheek. “I love you too.” It was sniffled but it brought some much-needed relief into the heart of the former athlete. You brought her up to the safety of her room before quickly cuddling up with her, Mr Biggy found refuge in her arms, and you helped her put on her Mami’s jumper. She had calmed down significantly as she grew tired from crying, now she just wanted to talk to her Mama about the situation. “What happened sweetheart?” You noticed her looking at you intently which normally meant she had something on her mind. 
“I’m scared.” Her small voice rang out as she cuddled closer to you. “Why are you scared Meels?” You guided her, knowing that she was ready to talk now. Emilia pouted as her eyes filled with tears again and you shushed her gently, rubbing her back until she calmed down. “You can tell me and Mami anything, you know that my baby.” Emilia nodded as her eyes shined from her tears. Her small fingers wrapped around Mr Biggy’s ear as she mumbled something you couldn’t understand. You pulled her impossibly closer, offering your left hand so she could play with your wedding ring something she always used to calm herself down. “I didn’t hear that Meels.” You gently told her as she took a deep breath.
“I don’t…want to play…football anymore.” She stuttered as the words tumbled out; you could see the tension leave her body as she finally told you, her problem. You were incredibly relieved that this is all it was, but you knew exactly what the problem was and why Emilia wanted her Mami so bad in the car. “Meels I know, your gymnastics is starting to clash with it. Mami had been talking to your football coach to prepare them for your leave.” Emilia sat up slowly as she processed the information she was just given. “Mami won’t be upset.” You giggle softly at the pout on her face, “Meels, Mami is going to be so relieved when she hears that this is why you were crying.” Emilia perked up, “Really? Promise?” You held out your pink as she beamed brightly, “Pinky promise.” 
You kissed her head, “Your Mami loves you so much not just for the things you do but for being you. Do you want to know a secret?” Emilia nodded with a curious head tilt, “Mami was the one who suggested you do Gymnastics when she saw your cartwheels.” Emilia nearly burst with joy as she clung onto you tightly. “I am so proud of you for telling me. Did you get very overwhelmed?” You asked trying to figure out how her emotions might have taken over so you can be more prepared next time.
“My thoughts made me worried. I didn’t want to upset Isabella or my Tia’s.” You kissed her again, as she cuddled Mr Biggy. “Your Tia’s love you so much Meels and Isabella will be delighted she gets to keep the goals all to herself.” Emilia giggled as you tickled her, “I want Mami.” You nodded knowing that your wife wanted Emilia right now too. It was as if Alexia knew her daughter was looking for her as there was a soft knock at the door. Alexia had calmed down a little bit now that she was home with her family, Daniela was so tiny, and Alexia softly rocked her as she snoozed. Alexia would be lying if she didn’t say she was walking considerably slower past Emilia’s door, but it was worth it when she heard her favourite sound, Emilia’s giggle. 
Emilia lit up at the sight of her and Alexia had to stop herself from running to the other side of the room to get to her. Alexia got under the covers as Emilia fell into her. Your eyes told Alexia all she needed to know; it wasn’t anything horrific. You let them have their cuddle before encouraging Emilia to tell your wife what was wrong. Emilia settled on top of her Mami before locking her fingers with hers, “Mami I don’t want to play football anymore.” There was no shift in Alexia’s smile as she stared up adoringly at her daughter, she sat up and cupped her face. “Te amo mucho mi princesa. I don’t care what you do as long as you are happy.”
Emilia smiles happily as she rests against her Mami’s chest. “You have a gymnastic competition next week and all you Tia’s want to come. Is that okay?” Emilia nodded tiredly as she cuddled Mr Biggy, “I would love that.” Alexia kissed her hair softly before lying down and bringing her to her chest. “I’m going to stay with her for a bit.” You nodded softly as you leaned down to kiss her. “You are the greatest mother Alexia Putellas, never forget that.” 
457 notes · View notes
regainingparadise · 2 months ago
Text
Relistening to TMA Season 5, I am again struck by how goddam badly Martin and Jon need couples counseling.
I love them both. I ship them very much. But oh lord they have issues
Like, these are two individuals who, under the very best of circumstances, would really need therapy both individually and together. They are both people with plentiful quantities of relational trauma from childhood that neither of them have worked through even the slightest bit.
And then you throw them into the apocalypse. And you add a metric fuck ton of guilt, helplessness, and the dynamics of being "The Antichrist and +1"?
On a surface level--Jon is in a perpetual state of information overload. Martin is in a perpetual state of "can you please just explain the basics of what's' going on in a given situation and not just say "it's complicated" or launch into a gruesome monologue"
But on a deeper level, their childhood relational traumas have left them each with opposing avoidant tendencies: Jon is unwilling to broach a difficult conversation, which leads him to hide information until he's confronted. Martin, on the other hand, has a finely honed ability to ignore information that he doesn't like until he no longer can hide from it.
Biggest example of their avoidance tendencies: Martin's Domain
Way early on, when we barely understand any of how the hellscape works, Jon mentions it, Martin shuts it down hard and deflects quickly with a bid for affection from Jon
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Martin is in deliberate denial, but Jon admittedly wasn't particularly clear to start with.
"We all have a domain."
Jon means it, presumably, as "Me, You, and other 'Avatars.'" Jon is used to being grouped with those empowered by the Entities. Martin isn't. (see also: MAG185: Martin" Is that how these creatures see us now? As one of them?") But that's not what Jon says. And this is MAG167--they've only been through four domains, at least that we've seen. Jon is speaking from a place of knowledge, and assuming his listener has that same knowledge.
And when this issue comes up much later in MAG183, Martin has spent 17 episodes ignoring or forgetting that he has a domain, not letting that information in so that he has never processed it. (See also: Mag170: "Sometimes I wonder if I forget things on purpose. Easier not to think about them, I guess. Easier to just let them… slip away. They can’t hurt you if you don’t think about them.").
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Martin confronts Jon on his avoidance (because while Martin may be good at ignoring things he doesn't like, he's far better at bringing up challenging topics), Jon is able to manage some A+ communication on his feelings and the genuine challenging of figuring out how to share upsetting information when he has All The Information, Martin accepts that. I just desperately want a therapist to be there and make them continue this conversation and practice ongoing good communication skills!
Though they resolve this, even though Jon has an explanation that makes sense...he was really leaving this conversation to the last minute. Would he have "[brought] it up at the crossroads" as he claims to Helen? Or would he have avoided it entirely, as she accuses, or waited till they were at the threshold, as he does with The Desolation and the Hunt, leaving Martin to confront terrifying situations without forewarning or planning or explanation.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Again, Jon kind of tried to bring up some of the potential issues with Basira and Daisy before entering the Hunt domain, but kept it Vague and Ominous ("Things aren't...good"). Martin took that vagueness as an opening to avoid engaging with potential bad news. The teensiest bit of therapy for either of them about their communication issues could have let Jon add "I know you're exited but FYI here are some specifics that you should know" and/or Martin go "I'm excited to see them but given that nothing is good right now, can you be more specific?"
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Instead, Jon approaches difficult conversations by being Vague and Ominous, Martin gets snarky or passive-aggressive at the vagueness, upset or aggressively avoidant at the Ominousness, Jon closes back up like a turtle into his shell, and the conversation only comes back up when the situation has drastically escalated, leaving them both more upset.
Jon wants Martin to trust him, because explaining what he knows implicitly is an ordeal for him, and because his upbringing by his grandmother has suggested that communicating is generally unwanted and burdensome (See: MAG081 A Guest for Mr. Spider).
Martin wants to know what is going on, because he's in an awful hellscape of shifting rules about what can and cannot hurt them, completely dependent on a brand-new romantic partner for his survival and purpose, and also because his upbringing and coping mechanisms as a caretaker rely on him knowing enough to help, and his time as an archival assistant has given him some not-inconsiderable trauma about being left in the dark (See: MAG118 The Masquerade) (There's also another post in my head about how MAG118 primed Martin for both the Lonely and his development as a more confrontational character in S5)
All that to say.
Martin needs therapy to deal with the way he chooses not to absorb information he doesn't like. Jon needs therapy to understand that sometimes it's ok to bring up important topics even if the other person will be upset. They both need therapy to cope with all the guilt and helplessness around the apocalypse so they stop taking it out on each other. They need therapy together to learn how to work through their conflicting coping mechanisms.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
192 notes · View notes
mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
9: NEW DAWN
Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter
You and Bucky deal with the fallout of the undercover mission.
Word count 3.3k
Warnings: reader coming to terms with Bucky's decision, trying to move forwards, betrayal, more miscommunication, anger, Bucky Barnes acting like a giant tool, Daisy Johnson and Melinda May make an appearance
Tumblr media
The next morning you woke early, determined to carry out your plan. Slipping out of the compound, you drove out of the parking garage in one of the convertibles with the top down and wind blowing through your hair. It was freezing cold and you knew it was reckless because it looked like the heavens would open at any minute, but you didn’t care. You arrived at Coulson Academy just as several large raindrops started to fall, and you sniffed slightly from the cold air. Putting the top up, you got out of the car and ran for shelter under the large awning of the Academy entrance.
"Ugh!" You stopped to flick off the water from your jacket.
"Subtle entrance." Melinda May’s voice startled you.
You jumped out of your skin. "Jeez, May! Why do you always have to lurk around?"
"Wasn’t lurking. Just waiting for you."
"How did you know I was coming?"
"I heard about what happened."
"Steve?" you asked.
"Romanoff."
Of course it had been Nat. She knew everything that happened, she knew exactly what you would do. Maybe you ought to have talked to her before leaving.
"Why didn’t you stop me?" you asked.
"Because I knew you needed to make this decision on your own," May replied calmly. "And I knew you would come here eventually."
You sighed, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. "I don’t know if I’m making the right choice."
May placed a hand on your shoulder. "There is no right choice here. You need to take care of yourself for once, instead of putting everyone else’s needs before yours. Teaching at the Academy is something you would be good at. You have so much to offer, and… I believe in you."
You looked up at her, grateful for her support. She wasn’t one for heart to heart conversations, preferring to ignore her emotions altogether. "Thank you, May. I just wish it didn’t have to end this way with Bucky."
May gave you a knowing look, she knew exactly how you felt without you having to explain it to her. "Sometimes things don’t work out the way we want them to. But that doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world. You have a bright future ahead of you, and I'll be there to help you every step of the way."
"Can I stay with you for a while?"
May rolled her eyes, "fine."
You wrapped your arms around her in a quick hug. "You’re the best. I love you."
*
Natasha was waiting for you when you returned, lounging across the hood of one of the Porches, filing her nails.
"Tony won’t be best pleased if he sees you like that."
"I’m not too worried about Tony. I have more important things on my mind."
"Yeah?" you asked, knowing full well where the conversation was going.
"What happened last night?"
"Didn’t Steve tell you?"
"Rogers?" she scoffed. "He has no idea what he’s talking about half the time."
You looked around for signs of anyone nearby. The risk of having someone overhear your conversation was making you feel very uncomfortable. Natasha pulled you into a secluded corner with a view of the rest of the garage and gave you a very pointed look requesting that you spilled the beans. But somehow the words you wanted to choose made the problem seem trivial. So instead of telling her about all the events that had transpired, you kept it simple.
"He chose her. Apparently there isn't enough room in his life for both of us," you shrugged.
"Steve told me what she did." Your gaze snapped to Nat’s face, but her returning expression was angry. "I don’t understand why you didn’t tell him."
"It’s my word against hers, Nat. I have no proof that she took my idea. What am I supposed to say? His reaction last night proves that he doesn’t trust me." You sighed dismally.
"Do you need me to beat some sense into him?"
You smiled sadly at your friend.
"Sweetie, you need to tell him how you feel," she continued.
"I think it’s too late for that. I’ve made my decision."
"I can’t do anything to change your mind?"
"Please Nat," you pleaded. "This is hard enough."
She put her arms around your neck, leaning her forehead against yours. "But I’ll miss you."
"I’ll miss you too." You wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her into a tight hug, trying not to let the tears start falling again. Eventually you pulled away, steeling yourself for the next step; telling Steve and Tony about your resignation.
*
As you made your way back into the compound, you caught sight of your best friend in the gym. He was pummeling a punching bag like he wanted to murder it.
You gathered every ounce of courage within you and approached Bucky, desperate to reconcile and recapture the bond you once shared. But as you reached out to touch his arm, he recoiled, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and hurt.
"Bucky, please. I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way-"
"I thought I knew you, but I feel like I don’t know you anymore," he said, his voice laced with sorrow. "I know how you feel about Priya-"
"Buck-"
"I can see it in your face. But I never thought you could be so spiteful."
Your heart, already shattered, fractured further still, and the tears you had held back cascaded down your cheeks. Your friendship, once unbreakable, seemed irretrievable. Bucky turned his back on you, leaving you broken, lost in a sea of regret and longing.
*
After drying your tears, you found Tony and Steve in the common area, deep in conversation. Taking a breath, you approached them, your voice steady but filled with emotion. "Tony, Steve, I need to talk to you both."
Tony looked up, concern etched on his face. "What's wrong, Cricket?"
You hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I... I need to resign from the Avengers."
Tony's eyes widened in surprise. "What? Why?"
You took a moment to gather your thoughts before explaining. "I could make up some logistical excuse but you'll both know it's a lie. It's... it's because of Bucky. I can't continue to work alongside him knowing how I feel and knowing that he's with someone else. It's too painful for me."
Tony and Steve exchanged a knowing look before Steve spoke up. "We understand Cricket. We've seen how hard this has been for you. But are you sure this is what you want?"
You nodded, tears threatening to spill over. "I can't stay here and pretend everything is okay when it's not. I need to take a step back and figure things out."
Steve placed a comforting hand on your shoulder but he looked like he was at a loss for words. So he took the professional route of comfort. "You're a valuable member of the team."
"Stay, we can find you another partner." Tony stood up, coming over to you. "I can’t just let you go without a fight."
You smiled weakly, grateful for their understanding. "Thank you, Steve. And thank you, Tony. But I just need some time to myself."
As you turned to leave, Tony called out to you. "Hey Sport, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to reach out. We're here for you."
You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. It was time to focus on yourself and your own happiness, even if it meant leaving behind the life you had known as an Avenger. And maybe, just maybe, you would find a way to move on from Bucky and find your own path to happiness.
You'd barely taken three steps out of the common room before Steve caught up with you. "Have you spoken to him?"
"If you call ‘him telling me he doesn't even know who I am and then storming off’ speaking, then yes. I don't understand how this happened, Steve. I thought nothing could get between us."
"He loves you." Steve stopped in front of you. 
"Not anymore. He hates me."
Steve couldn't help but feel frustrated by how his two best friends could be so oblivious. 
"Look Steve, I'm sorry, I know Bucky’s your best friend. You don't need to hear me bad mouthing him." You stepped around him, making your way back to your room.
"Cricket, you're my friend too." Steve chased after you.
"Then will you help me pack?"
Steve sighed, he would never refuse anyone’s request for help. "Of course."
*
It hadn’t taken you long to pack your things into boxes. Your clothes weren’t difficult to shove into suitcases. Your wardrobe wasn’t extensive, having learned to live out of small spaces for many years, material things weren’t quite on your list of necessities. You had let Tony decorate your walls to his taste and you’d been pleasantly surprised at how good he was at guessing your tastes. However, you’d decided not to take these things with you when you left. It was time for you to make your own home. It was going to be a new challenge, you’d been involved with large institutions ever since you’d left home, and had never had to create a home for yourself before.
You turned to face Steve, Sam, and Nat, who were all standing in your room, looking at you with concern in their eyes.
"Come on, sugar cakes. Isn’t there any way we can convince you to stay?" Sam asked.
"I appreciate the sentiment, guys, but I need to do this," you said, zipping up your suitcase.
"Cricket, you’re too valuable a member of the team," Steve said, stepping forward.
"You know that’s just not true, but thank you for saying that. But I just can’t stay here knowing that Bucky’s mad at me," you replied, feeling a sting in your chest at the thought of leaving your best friend behind.
"Bucky will come around, he always does," Sam chimed in, trying to reassure you.
"I don’t think so, not this time. He’s really upset with me," you said, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.
Nat walked over to you and put a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Cricket, you can’t just leave because of this. You’re stronger than that."
You shook your head, wiping away a tear. "I can’t stay here, Nat. It’s too painful."
"We understand, but we don’t want you to go," Steve said, his voice filled with emotion.
"I know, but I have to do this. Please, don’t tell Bucky I’m leaving. I need to do this on my own terms," you pleaded, wondering if Bucky would even notice your absence.
The three of them exchanged a look before nodding in agreement. "Okay, we won’t tell him. But promise us you’ll keep in touch," Sam said.
You nodded, feeling grateful for their understanding. "I promise. Thank you, guys. I’ll miss you all."
You were the last to leave your room, the others had carried your things to the van you were borrowing from the garage. You sighed, you would miss the luxury and convenience that came with being a member of the Avengers Initiative. There were only a few things left in your room; the wolf plushie Steve had won you at Coney Island, you later realized that it reminded you of Bucky, and the still wrapped gift you had bought for Bucky, the card you’d written him still stuck to the top. There was no reason to take those things with you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to throw them away. You decided to leave them on your bed. The next owner of the room could decide what to do with them.
On your way out, you ambled past the hangar bay, spotting Bucky in full tactical gear prepping for a mission. You had no idea that he had been assigned to something. 
"You have a mission?" you blurted out, causing Bucky to turn to you.
"Yes." His voice was monosyllabic.
"Alone?"
"No."
"No, with me." Sharon materialized suddenly.
"Oh, hey Sharon. I hope you guys are safe out there."
Bucky looked back at you, a fleeting look of regret crossed his face, before he turned and walked away. He didn’t waste any time requesting a new partner, you thought. Just when you thought he couldn’t hurt you anymore. At least he would be safe with her; Sharon was a good agent, she would watch his back, that’s what mattered the most.
As you walked out of the compound, you felt a mix of sadness and relief. It was time to start a new chapter in your life, even if it meant leaving behind the Avengers and the man you loved. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but you were determined to make it work. And maybe, just maybe, one day Bucky would understand why you had to go.
*
Your friend, Daisy Johnson stopped by for a visit just after you had moved into your new apartment. You hadn’t seen her for a few years, since she had decided to travel the stars with her sister, Kora and now boyfriend, Daniel Sousa. She had insisted on coming over to your place, since May had insisted that you find your independence.
"So tell me, what’s the deal with your love life?" Daisy enquired after her third glass of wine.
"What love life?" you asked, sarcastically.
She laughed, "oh come on! You’ve been living in a building with all those Avengers! You can’t tell me that it’s all completely innocent!"
"Hey, just because you fell in love with your first S.O.!"
"Ouch! That’s a low blow! It’s not my fault Ward turned out to be a HYDRA psychopath!"
"No, he was out of this world."
"Literally!"
Both of you laughed, despite the pain that was associated with the memories of the parasitic inhuman who had infested and possessed the corpse of your dead traitorous colleague and used his body to control other inhumans. Sometimes there was nothing else to do but laugh.
"So, are you telling me that you haven’t gotten any sex since you moved in there?"
You shrugged.
"Not even Bucky Barnes? Like have you seen him?" Daisy had always expressed her attraction to your favorite super soldier, but she stopped as she noticed the change in your expression. "What is it? Did something happen with him?"
"No," you shook your head.
"Then why did you leave?"
You shrugged.
"Come on, spill. May wouldn’t tell me. But it’s got something to do with him, right?" Daisy scrutinized your face, coming to sit beside you. "Did he hurt yo-?"
"NO!" you responded before she had the chance to finish. "Not like that."
"But he did something."
"Bucky’s my best friend." You said, not being able to muster enough enthusiasm into your words for them to be believable.
"But?"
"We just clicked, you know? Right from the start. It was like we were made to be partners. We could share everything with each other, we knew what the other person was going to do in the field without even discussing it. But outside of that too, I felt like I could share anything with him. I even told him about…"
You didn’t have to explain yourself further, Daisy Johnson was the only other living person in the world who knew about the sexual abuse you had suffered as a teen. You had never told a soul when you had been an adolescent, fearing that you wouldn’t be believed, which had led to a lifetime of shame and a stigma of being seen as broken. But secrets often come out, whether you want them to or not. And during a mission, the man who had been responsible for your trauma was involved. Eventually your secrets had surfaced, no matter how deep you buried them, but Daisy had been there for you.
"But I thought there might be something more between us, something… as hard as I tried… I couldn't deny - I was… am in love with him."
"You are?"
"I never told him how I felt. I was afraid of ruining our friendship. But it feels like fate had other plans and he started dating Priya. I was happy for him, of course, but deep down, I couldn't help but feel … jealous.
"And as his relationship with Priya went on, I just found myself feeling more and more envious. I couldn't stand the thought of someone else being with him, especially when I knew how I felt. But I kept my feelings to myself, not wanting to cause any trouble." You sighed.
"What changed? What made you leave?"
"Bucky's birthday. I spent weeks planning the perfect gift for him, something that would show him how much he meant to me. But before I could give it to him, Priya just swooped in and stole my idea, presenting it to Bucky as if she had come up with it on her own.
"Bucky was thrilled with the gift, but when he turned to me expecting something from me, I- I didn’t know what to do. I couldn't bring myself to tell him that Priya had taken my idea, so I stayed silent. Daisy, he was so angry and hurt, thinking that I didn't care enough about him to get him a gift.
"In the end, he chose Priya over me, believing that she cared for him more. He said he loved her based on something I came up with! And I tried to apologize and explain, but he didn't … doesn’t want to hear it. He said felt like he never knew me, like our friendship had been a lie. Now he doesn’t even want me in his life!"
Daisy put her arms around your neck, pulling your head onto her shoulder. The wine had loosened your tongue and talking through what had happened was helping you to truly understand what had happened.
"I can’t believe this bitch!" Daisy muttered in your ear. "Want me to quake her for you?"
You let out a watery chuckle. "I just feel so alone. I know that it’s my own doing, I could have told him how I felt. I could hardly blame her at first, she had no idea. But now…I fucking hate Priya for coming between us, for stealing my chance at happiness with Bucky." You scoffed at your own words. "You know, deep down, I knew that it was my own fear and jealousy that had drove us apart in the first place. I let my feelings get in the way of our friendship, and now I’ve lost the one person who means the world to me." Talking to Daisy had given you time to take stock and really process what you had lost.
"So what’re you going to do now?" Daisy asked.
"What am I supposed to do, Daisy?"
"Let him cool off and try again!"
"And say what exactly? Take me back as your friend? I’m in love with you? He clearly doesn’t feel the same way, so what am I achieving other than getting hurt watching him being happy with someone else?"
"You could come with me, Kora and Daniel. We’re heading back off-world next week."
"And watch you and Daniel making those lovey-dovey faces at each other all day? Thanks, but I think I’ll pass."
"So you’re just going to teach? With May?"
"Yeah," you shrugged. "Teach and wallow about my sad, loveless life."
"You know I love you, right?" Daisy pouted at you.
You laughed, "yeah, I love you too."
Once Daisy left, you continued to think about Bucky. You missed the easy camaraderie you once shared with him, the way you could finish each other’s sentences and laugh until your sides hurt. But now, there was a distance between you that seemed insurmountable. Bucky had made his choice and you were left to pick up the shattered pieces of your friendship. You wondered if he ever truly understood how much you cared for him, how much he meant to you.
Tumblr media
Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter
Tag list: @samodivaa @scoonsalicious @noonespecial90 @browneyedgrli @vicmc624 @cjand10 @capswife @julvrs @ordelixx @sashaisready @sebastians-love @belleofthebooks @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @rabbitrabbit12321 @love-isnt-greed @hhiggs @winters1917 @blackhawkfanatic @calwitch @learisa @daybleedsintonightfa11 @lillianacristina @mostlymarvelgirl @wintercrow @buckitostan @crist1216 @bisexualnikkisixx @robynjasp @brairslair
308 notes · View notes
slyvieselkie · 6 months ago
Text
Your Eyes - Sakusa Kiyoomi
Check out my masterlist for more!
Warning: slightly suggestive at the end
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙
Sakusa is insecure about not being a good boyfriend, expressive or affectionate.
Kiyoomi Sakusa is not prince charming, one could say he was the complete opposite. He was honest and blunt about how he felt, the things he disliked. Sakusa hated germs and crowds, he avoided people as much as possible. The only he had going for him was his looks and volleyball, which didn't compensate for much.
That's why Sakusa realised he spent all of his luck on dating you. The 'everyone's friend' girl, the personification of bubbly, and cuteness all in one bundle. The world let out a gasp when you two revealed your relationship, why and how did this happen? Don't ask him, everything happened in a blink of an eye and now he has the sunshine next to him everyday.
And it's not he treats you differently. You two don't really touch, the most that happens is a hug in private. View this incident here.
Evidence #1 - At School
It's been a week since he's started dating you and Sakusa's getting tired of the stares. Yes, he understands that you two shouldn't be together-get over it!
"Ha ha, everyone's a little restless about the news eh?", Motoya laugh trying to lift the spirits up but its not working.
He lets out a sigh behind the mask, maybe he should just break up with you? It seems like a shitty thing to do, but this is getting a little ridiculous.
"Sakun~! Good morning~!", confused he turns around and sees you lunging for him.
You've clearly just woken up from the way there are strands sticking out at the back. There's also a grain of rice stuck to the corner of your mouth, like always. And the way you're running tells him that you forgot some books today, most likely History.
Instincts take over and he slides to the left, you blink in confusion as the ground suddenly zooms towards you. Motoya jaws drop as you face plant and lie flat on the ground, others also gather around and some make a side-glance at Sakusa. However, he doesn't do a single thing. You giggle and wave everyone off, turning to the boy with beam. Everyone frowns as the two of you walk off.
Verdict: should've helped you up but didn't
He doesn't really talk much, you mainly chat his ear off, and when he does its always a diss.
Evidence #2 - Shopping with your sister
On a rare day where Sakusa agrees to go out with you, the two of you follows your older sister to go shopping since she has all of the membership cards. While she's a little weirded by him, the kid is nothing like how you describe him, she's willing to give him a chance.
At first he's polite, he thanks you for buying him a cool shirt and her for the discount. After that is where everything falls apart. She and him wait outside the dressing room for you to come out in the dress she chose.
"I'm out, how do I look?"
You look cute in the sundress with daisy prints, she grins but Sakusa goes, "You look a little chubby, and you also look ten."
Her jaws drop while you laugh, "Are you serious?! No!", and run back inside to change.
Your older sister is fuming because not only did he insult you, he insulted her eye for fashion! Unforgivable!
That's why when Sakusa leaves the table at the cafe to go to the bathroom, she's letting out everything and seething.
"That bastard, who does he think he is?! Only I get to make fun of you, call you chubby, and ten! What is he?! He's been your little boyfriend for two months and now he thinks he gets that right?!"
You soothe her by feeding her pieces of cake, "Come on, Sakun wasn't that rude and he was right", "Hey, whose side are you on right now?! What's gonna happen when you bring him home to meet our parents?! Our ancestors will roll in their graves!"
"Hey hey you're thinking a little too far!", you sigh, "He's only like that in front of people, otherwise Sakun's pretty sweet", she snorts, "So he only humiliates you in public?"
Sakusa hides behind the corner for a bit longer until she's fully calmed down. He peeks out from behind the corner and watches as you play with your earlobe, tired of trying to play civil.
He also doesn't wear the shirt just yet, it's still in his closet in the shopping bag and folded neatly.
Verdict: should've just said you looked cute
You two also rarely hang outside of school, he says you see each other everyday and he has volleyball so its not possible.
Evidence #3 - training camp (made up for plot sake)
He's been at the volleyball training camp since Monday, and only today on Wednesday has Sakusa decided to contact you. You don't call him because he most likely won't pick up or will just tell you to call back at another time.
While everyone's getting ready for sleep, Sakusa sneaks away and face-times you.
"Sakun!", you pick up after one ring and he stares down at your giddy smile, "...Hey."
You're belly-down on the bed and the mirror on the side shows your legs kicking back and forth. The volleyball player notices your hair is a little damp and small droplets drips down onto the fluffy robe you're wearing. He doesn't get to say much after that, its predominantly you telling him about what happened at school. It becomes white noise and he only tunes back in when you've trailed off.
The boy lets out a sigh, "What's wrong with you", he can see your legs have stopped as you pout and murmur, "Well, I just miss you a lot."
The ridiculousness makes him snort, "Idiot, its been two days", your whining zooming closer on the screen, ""That's sooo long though, don't you miss me~?"
Nothing is aggravating him but he shoots back, "Not at all, you're annoying as hell", you gasp and wail from the other side, "Sakun, you're so mean~!"
Sakusa entertains you for a little longer before he's hanging up.
After a tired sigh, he turns around and scowls because literally the whole camp is there watching him like a soap opera, "You fu-", "Wow you're a complete jerk", Washio shuts him down.
Everyone claps in agreement and he clicks his tongue, "Mind your own business", then Oikawa grins like the Cheshire cat, "My my, I wonder if you'll be saying that when she has a new guy~", his partner elbows him, "Shut up Shittykawa, no need to state the obvious."
He's getting pissed off now.
Then the blonde twin from Inarizaki doubles down, "I have to say, she sounds adorable and I'm sure she's pretty as well. Why don't you share her number so one of us can actually take care of her~!", the two idiots from Karasuno join in, "Here here, that's no way to treat any girl you bastard!", "Well said Nishinoya, gimme her contacts bastard!"
He rolls his eyes before focusing on that creepy captain from Nekoma smiling at him, "Captain, I have his phone!", the lankly Russian shouts running away from him.
Sakusa growls as marches over while they find your contact photo, the bikini pic you sent to him ages ago. He snatches it back while they go wild, these motherfuckers are gonna turn him into a killer.
"Damn buddy, why are you being like this?!", Sakusa hears all sorts of complaints behind him as he returns to his room.
Verdict: should've said he missed you too
No one really likes you dating him, they think he's a toxic person. And maybe he is, there's always someone calling him 'rude' or a 'jerk'. Sometimes, Sakusa wonders why you two are dating at all. What was it that you saw in him that random day you asked him out? It's completely taken over his mind, he can't focus on volleyball or school.
His frustration grows and grows as no solution appears, what the hell do people want him to do? What the hell do you want from him? What the hell does he want to do?
....
Making your way down to the front seats of the stadium, you suddenly hear your name being called. Curious you turn back and see a friend from primary school. Excitedly, the two of you run to each other and have an emotional hug comparable to the ones in the movie.
"Yeah! I'm here to support Inarizaki! You're here for Itachiyama!", you giggle and point to Sakusa, "Yeah, that's my man right there~"
She gasps excitedly at the boy's looks, "Oh my gosh, girl you caught a huge fish!", the two of you go wild and everyone else glances over uncomfortably.
As the game starts, the two of you are drawn into the intensity. Sakusa is sweating profusely as he battles against Inarizaki, eyes completely focused on the ball like a hawk. And you're sitting there silently amazed...and getting slightly hot because he's so fucking hot. He was cute and handsome before, but holy shit you caught the biggest fish there was.
Finally the game ends with Itachiyama winning and you cackling making fun of your friend, "How's it feel loser?!", "Ugh this shame! You watch next time, your boytoy is going down!", "Hey leave him out of this!"
You gasp and look down at the court to see Sakusa staring at you, immediately you were jumping up and down waving wildly, "Sakun!"
He blinks for a moment before walking off with his team, "Uhhh what was that all about?", your friend asks confused but you're too busy giggling, "He's so cute!"
As the two of you make your way out of the stadium, your friend brings it up again and you tense up feeling it start again. If it was anything else, you would've just given up at that point. But! It was your Sakun so you will defend him forever.
....
Finally free from the locker room talk, Sakusa tries to find you. He spots you quite quickly, you're facing a row of plants with a girl from Inarizaki. As the boy approaches, he can see your body shift uncomfortably and frown.
"I said we're perfectly fine", "Come on, what kind of boyfriend does that? I know you're letting him get away with being mean and rude because he's your first, but you can do so much better!"
The volleyball player froze. He watches as she suggests a few of her friends, pulling her phone to show pictures of friendly and charming guys that would suit you so much better. And nothing hurts more than the way you scan them silently, as if you're actually considering it.
Before he knows it, Sakusa is calling out to you. As the friend panics and runs away, you beam and bounce towards him like nothing happened. He stares at the distance you keep, how your hands to reach out half way but pull back after. Even as you two walk home and your talking like usual, he sees the other couples holding hands and linking arms. It makes Sakusa uncomfortable and a tight feeling grows inside him. Even now he doesn't want to hold your hand, doesn't want to scoot closer to you.
"Sakun?", oh somehow he's already at your house.
The right thing to do would be to say his farewells and go home, but he can't. You stand at the entrance and smile softly with a strange look in your eyes. His heart isn't working anymore, it knows you want to break up with him. And for the first time in your relationship, Sakusa feels horror and dread.
The boy also realises what everyone and he wants from himself, for Kiyoomi Sakusa to be normal. Why couldn't he have learnt from his verdicts, why can't he just be like everybody else? You must want the same and now that he couldn't accomplish that, you've given up.
"Sakusa", you've even stopped using the nickname, "Come here."
You pull him inside the house by his bag straps, there's no strength but he follows to get the last bits of affection he can get from you. In the living room, the two of you sit with a little distance in between. This must be your last test, his last chance. He just has to do something, hug you, kiss you, something like that? His eyes stare down at the emptiness as if it'll close up if he does.
"Sakusa", his eyes trail up to your soft smile, "I love you, and I know you love me too."
There's a lump in his throat, how do you know? No one else does, not even Sakusa himself knows.
"Can I touch you?", it takes him a few seconds to stutter a nod.
With a whisper you reach out, "Your eyes", he instinctively closes them and allows you to graze his eyelids, "They're the windows to your soul", feel his eyelashes, "And they're always following me", the skin below his eyes, "Staring at me like I'm the most precious thing."
It comes as a revelation to Sakusa, you were completely right. Even before you approached him with your confession, his eyes has always been following you from afar. Staring at the back of your head in class, trailing your flowing hair in the hallway, observing the way you spoke, smile, laughed. And then meeting your sparkling eyes on that 'random day' when everything started.
You're in his lap now, cupping his cheeks and pressing your lips against his eyes, "I hate that they've made you forget the way you look at me. Your gaze is so different from all of them. I don't have to make you laugh, have to comfort you, help you in anyway, and yet you still look I'm the prize you don't deserve."
His mask finally comes off and you coo at his deep flush, "Oh Sakun, you're the prettiest boy with the prettiest eyes and the prettiest heart", kissing his jawline.
The change in the atmosphere makes him hide away against your neck, but you still imagine to fluster him by playing with his rosy ears.
You murmur against his hair, "Never feel pressured to step out of your boundaries. It's you and I in relationship. As long as we're happy, you don't need to worry about them."
He looks up at you again like you've descended from the skies and you coo against his lips, "Just keep looking at me, don't let those eyes stray anywhere else."
Sakusa should feel embarrassed at the way he whines for you, but your kisses makes his mind go blank. And he wonders if everyone else gets as hot and dazed he's getting now. Your prettiest boy allows your voice to fill every crevice in his ears and your hands to explore him like no other. All the while meeting your hungry eyes.
....
You'll never forgive the people that made Sakusa forget he wears his heart on his sleeve. Because his love travels from his eyes to his action.
From sneaking the History book you 'forgot' in your bag, to the first pair of earrings he gifted you that looked way better, to the daily photos from that training camp he started sending after that phone call. Sakusa has always shown you that he loved you, so what if the normal people couldn't understand?
But you do have to thank them, because it was this progression that allowed you to become the centre of Sakusa's everything. His eyes, his heart, his thoughts. You smile feeling the boy dig his face into your chest, your fingers fall to his back where you trace every ripple and ridge that slightly twitch with your movements.
"H-Hey, that tickles", he stutters and you giggle hugging him tightly, "Sorry pretty boy~"
Tumblr media
Hi Lovelies, I hoped you carnivores enjoyed pretty boy Sakusa!
One of my favourite troupes is 'scary misunderstood' guy that turns into 'shy cuddly bear' after meeting the perfect partner! *chef's kiss*
See ya (˶ > ₃ < ˶)♡
301 notes · View notes
thewidowsledger · 2 months ago
Text
The Call
Chapter 3: 7 Minutes in Heaven | 7.5k
© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE
Tumblr media
Summary: You were supposed to take her out—the infamous Black Widow—Natasha Romanoff. The S.H.I.E.L.D. has been keeping an eye on her for a while now and for some reason, another high-ranking agent as you was sent to get the mission done. But then, he made a different call leading the mission to be here in front of you, soon to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.
Pairings: Ex-Russian Agent Natasha Romanoff x Senior S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Female Reader
Tags | Warnings: 18+, fluff, sparring, jealousy, triggering Natasha's trauma, asshole Daisy, yummy awkward Nat, sexual innuendos, flirting, dirty talk, praising, Natasha making r make inappropriate sounds😩🤪 kissing
Author's Note: Based on my own experience but I changed it a bit, lol. Enjoy, I'll see you when I see you :)))
Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist
“Johnson was there in her office.”
“What?!” Yelena shot back.
“She had flowers with her.” Natasha added not sure if she should say it now that she knows how Yelena will overreact.
“What?!” Yelena exclaimed again as she palmed her forehead, “What are they talking about? Did you hear?” she added in a rush. “No, she asked her to leave when I came in.”
“That's good, that's good.” Yelena said, trying to calm herself or gaslight herself rather.
Natasha posed a question that left Yelena stunned, “Do…do you think Y/N still has feelings for her?”
“She told me she's over it and I’m making sure that it really is.”
Natasha just nodded slowly pulling the sleeves of her pink shirt up to her shoulders innocently, “I’ll go get some water.”
“Sure, sure,” Yelena tried to hide the devilishly smile naturally forming in her face but as soon as Natasha walked away, she aggressively tapped Madisynn’s thigh.
“Aw!” Madisynn swatted Yelena's hand away.
“Do you know what's on my mind right now?” Yelena asked the girl who was dumbly tilting her head at her. But Yelena gave her a knowing look that made the girl’s head light like a bulb.
“Oh, I think I do know what's on your mind,” she said as she looked at your figure walking towards them. “Hi boss!” She greeted in a squeal.
You looked at the two confusingly not liking the evil faces they're making right now. “Okay, enough of that look. Stop grinning at me, you both look like a pervert.”
“Foul!”
“You're so mean!”
“Where's…Agent Romanoff?” You asked ignoring their whines and you wished it came off casually. But the two agents only grinned once again at your question, you immediately caught their reactions and you crossed your arms at them waiting for an answer.
“There she is!” Madisynn pointed behind you, her nails never failing to flex.
You immediately turn to see Natasha, her shirt sleeves rolled up to her shoulders and her biceps were godly…you thought to yourself. If only you knew the two agents caught you checking Natasha out.
“We haven't done anything yet but it's working already.” Madisynn whispered to the blonde.
“I know, I know. This is gonna be so much fun.”
The team-building event got off to a great start. All the agents were thoroughly enjoying themselves as they played various games together. Shouting, clapping, laughing here and there, it was a sight to see and it was a fun experience. Could you imagine that these agents were trained to save the world but right now they're trying to balance plastic cups on their heads? It was the only time when the entire agency came together to unwind and have some fun and be free with themselves while simultaneously strengthening their bonds with each other.
Many teams had already been eliminated, but thankfully, yours was still in the running for the game. You heard Yelena taking charge and leading your team as if they were on a real mission, you couldn't help but burst into a fit of giggles.
“Okay you idiots, balloon bust, the instruction is very easy we’ve done this last last year guys. We just have to keep the balloon up on our stomach, no dropping, no popping. Be gentle with the balloon,” she relayed, as if it was a serious mission. “It’s our baby!” she clapped between each word.
The team just nodded eagerly cheering themselves as they went to grab their own balloons. You hyped your team up by giving them thumbs up and a lot of claps.
Your gaze shifted towards Natasha and you observed how she seemed a little lost throughout the game. Yet, she hadn't lost her endearing smile the entire time. She has been asking Yelena over and over on how she's supposed to play in each game, on how she is going to contribute to win and Yelena has been nothing but patient towards her, guiding her and giving her tasks on what to do.
The thought hit you then, it is her first time experiencing something like this. Her entire life she was used to working alone. You knew her past, of course you do. You know how she hadn't had the luxury of playing with dolls, teddy bears, and make-up like you had. Instead, she had spent her childhood toying with real guns, learning to crack codes on computers, and mastering the art of physical combat that if she fails every time—she’ll end up tied up in a cell or eat no food for days.
She was too young for that, she was supposed to be protected—no kid deserves that.
As you stared at Natasha, a pang of pain gripped your heart. You watched as she laughed when she saw Yelena huffing in frustration after her balloon popped. Your entire team had given up, and all of them just ended up bursting into laughter, lying on the ground.
Your team ran back at you, waiting for the next game. Natasha was still giggling her life out, shaking Yelena's shoulder.
“Hey Romanoff, water?” she was the first one you offered water.
When she looked stunned and didn't respond, you chuckled faintly, which seemed to make her even more surprised.
“C'mon, take it before I take it back,” you urged and Natasha quickly snatched the bottle from your hand. As you handed out the water to the rest of your team, you couldn't help but notice the adorable blush spreading across her cheeks.
You watched Natasha as she gulped down the entire water in the bottle in one go. You were fixated on her neck, watching the way her throat moved with each gulp. She had chugged it down so quickly, like it was just a matter of three quick swallows. The sight of her holding onto the empty bottle, squeezing it tightly, was doing strange things to you. As you continued to observe Natasha, a warmth crept up your face.
“Hey, boss, we need you for the next game.” Yelena informed behind you, pulling you out of your trance.
“Me?” You turned to look at her as you pointed to yourself as if you weren't just checking out the redhead.
“Yeah, it's three-legged race. We're only five,” she shrugged innocently but in the back of her head she’s plotting something.
“You're my partner,” you immediately told her.
“Nuh uh, Nat’s your partner. You're almost the same height though she's taller than you. Madisynn and I have the same height so…” Before you could even protest further, Yelena tightly grasped your wrist and forcefully dragged you towards Natasha. As you approach her, you catch sight of her lifting her shirt to wipe some sweat from her forehead, revealing a glimpse of her well-toned abs.
You had seen all her muscular frame in all its glory for today.
“Where's your ribbon Nat?” Yelena asked. As Natasha hesitantly handed it to Yelena, Yelena pushed you down, causing you to yelp. Before you realized what was happening, Natasha was also pushed down and you found yourselves side by side. The blonde then knelt down in front of both you and Natasha, preparing to bind your legs together.
Yelena smirked mischievously as she observed the scene in front of her, her task completed, “Perfect!” she exclaimed before walking back in front of your team’s line. You and Natasha were left stunned, your bodies pressed close together.
“Are you okay?” She asked quietly, tugging her sleeves down, embarrassed at how sweaty she was, “You're tight?” Realizing how she worded the question Natasha immediately palmed her face looking the other way, “I mean no-not t-tight for you?”
You didn't miss the curse that came after that.
“I’m fine, you?” you replied, not bothering the silly, nasty, cute mistake and tried to sound authoritative. She just gave you a thumbs up and put both her arms on her knees.
An awkward silence hung in the air after your brief exchange, until the shrill sound of a whistle pierced through, signaling the start of the race.
Darcy, the designated emcee for the day, called out, her voice echoing through the area, “Are the teams ready for the race?” A twinkle danced in her eyes as she added, “Did you know that they say 80% of the paired players for this game usually end up together?”
Yelena leaned over to Madisynn and muttered, a mischievous smile on her face, “Darcy definitely knows the assignment.” Madisynn smirked in agreement, seemingly in on the unspoken plan they had in mind and nodded.
However, you and Natasha missed the playful comment because you were too focused on planning your strategy for the race.
“Coordination, Natasha okay?” You reiterated and she agreed, her cheeks turning a slight shade of red. Natasha felt a different kind of warmth as you spoke to her with a gentle tone, different from your usual cold and robotic tone. And the way you called her by her first name sent a flutter through her heart.
Daisy stood at a distance, her eyes locked on you and Natasha as you talked. She clenched her fist tightly, not liking how close you were to the red head.
A shrill whistle pierced the air once again, signaling the start of the race and a chorus of cheers and shouts echoed loudly as the first pair sprinted off, kicking up dust and sand behind them.
Sensing a bit of struggle on Natasha's part, you offered, “You can hold onto my shoulder if that'll make it easier for you.”
Natasha nodded appreciatively, her left arm about to reach for your shoulders when she surprised you by gently taking your right arm instead. She positioned it around her back, creating a more intimate position as you both clung to each other for support. The unexpected action caused you to blush and you found yourself pulled closer to her as Yelena and Madisynn handed you the flag, signaling your turn to start.
As you began the race, the mood was lighthearted, filled with laughter and giggles. You started off good, however, just as things seemed to be going well, you suddenly tripped and lost your balance, causing you to stumble forward. But Natasha was quick to hold you back, grabbing you by the waist, preventing you from falling forward. In the process, your hands inadvertently landed on her abdomen, seeking support.
“That was really stupid,” you manage to say between giggles.
“You're fine, we’re close c’mon,” Natasha encouraged sheepishly, her response catching you off guard as it was the first time she had talked to you again this entire game.
“Left, right, left…”
You and Natasha continued with the race, Yelena and your team eagerly watched and cheered from the sidelines, supporting you every step of the way. They shouted encouragement and teasing comments.
“I am going to tie you both for life!” Yelena exclaimed.
“Fall for Nat, boss! She’ll catch you!”
“Don't get too tangled up now!”
As you dashed towards the finish line, an unexpected trip caused you to falter—again. Natasha's quick reflexes kicked in once again. Her hand moved swiftly to support your head, preventing it from hitting the surface with a thud. She acted instinctively, shielding you from further harm. With a soft thump, you found yourself on the ground and Natasha was now on top of you. Her right hand holding the back of your head, her body hovering over yours.
Natasha's gaze remained fixed on you as you burst into a fit of laughter, lying on the floor. She couldn't help but marvel at the sight before her, no cold voice just your laughter filling the air. No hint of seriousness on your face, your unguarded expression and carefree attitude were delightful to behold.
As you continued to lie on the ground, laughing uncontrollably, you didn't notice Daisy appearing and giving Natasha a push from the sides. This unexpected shove caused Natasha to stumble and fall beside you, landing rather clumsily on the ground.
“Get away from her.”
“Fuck off, Daisy,” Yelena snapped coldly as she shoved Daisy away, Madisynn immediately knelt in front of you and Natasha to untie the ribbon.
Daisy was already back in her team’s position when you got up, her team trying to soothe her. Natasha saw you looking at Daisy’s direction as if you were checking on her—on your ex-fiance.
“Y/N…I’m sor—”
“I’m sorry about that Romanoff, are you okay?” you turned to her and touched her arm which made the redhead shudder.
Back with the last name basis now?
“I-I’m fine boss.��� She stuttered, stunned at your apology. She scratched the back of her neck as she looked away but looking away wouldn't hide the redness of her face.
“Piece of advice, please don't interact with her,” you gave her a half smile tapping her arm twice before shouting to your team.
“Get up! Get up!”
The sudden news hit you like a flash. One of your agents had accepted a sparring challenge from a senior of another division. It is one of the activities your team-building events often took as a competitive edge.
You realized from the start that you had forgotten to remind your team not to participate. But it was a well-established rule that shouldn't need to be constantly reiterated, the sparring challenges were typically reserved for the more seasoned members, the oldies of the agency—the seniors and Natasha isn't one.
“Fucking hell.” You hissed, striding towards the area where the sparring match was taking place, “Romanoff is really testing my patience.”
How come that you were really soft with the agent earlier and now? You're back being a meanie to her?
Yelena tried to defend her partner, her voice a squeak. “She didn't know!” she protested. “She's only been here a few months. She's clueless and her senior isn't even making things easy on her.”
You were seething with anger as you heard Yelena's words. You halted in your tracks and turned around, your gaze locking onto the blonde, who suddenly looked like a frightened child under your intense stare. You fought to regulate your breathing, trying to maintain your composure. Deep down, you knew that Yelena had a point. Her words were stinging because they held a measure of truth. Yet, your ego couldn't help but bristle at the audacity of her calling you out like that.
The sound of raucous cheering jolted you back to reality, you pushed the door swinging open with a harsh creak, you felt a sudden wave of attention directed your way. Numerous agents turned their heads in your direction. It was obvious that your arrival had caused a ripple of interest amongst the crowd. Well, let's just say that the opponent that your agent is fighting is none other than your ex-fiance.
“Fucking hell.” You muttered to yourself as you balled your fists.
You hate her for being so naive…but god, she is now positioned in the ring and greeted you with an innocent wave. The protective mouthguard showed as she tried to smile. How are you supposed to hate that?
Despite your anger towards her naivety you managed to wave back but she wasn't able to see it as your ex-fiance landed a punch on her face, you involuntarily flinched and placed a palm on your forehead. Well, that was awkward.
“Get her Romanoff!” Yelena shouted from behind, you swear you heard her betting $20 for Natasha.
“She was supposed to take you out,” Daisy growled at the redhead, her boxing gloves poised to deliver another punch anytime.
Natasha furrowed her brows together but she didn't mind what Daisy was trying to say. Natasha seized an opening and threw a punch on her sides, catching Daisy off guard and regaining the upper hand in the fight. The impact sent Daisy stumbling back a few steps, momentarily stunned by the unexpected offensive move. But then a smirk creeped out on her face.
“You're supposed to be history by now if it wasn't by Barton.” Daisy's words, though meant to rile Natasha up, seemed to be taking effect now. “If it was Y/N, you’d be dead by now.”
Natasha's breath hitched at the revelation and Daisy saw the horror that flashed into the redhead's eye. Natasha clenched her jaw and squeezed her eyes shut.
Rule number 1: Never take your eye away from your opponent.
Another wave of cheers and shouting from the crowds surrounded the boxing ring as Natasha seized another opportunity, throwing another punch this time connecting with Daisy's cheek. It seemed as if Daisy was deliberately allowing Natasha to land blows, letting her get a few hits in. No, letting her hit her.
You stood there, frozen. You are really not liking this.
You saw Daisy's lips moving, clearly as if she was saying something to Natasha. While you also noticed how the redhead’s body tensed up and you saw her focus seemed to be shaken a little.
“Dreykov’s daughter?” You whispered to yourself as you read the words coming out of Daisy's lips. The redhead tried to throw another punch but Daisy was able to dodge it sending back a punch to Natasha's stomach.
“I won't let Y/N be with a killer like you.”
The words made Natasha’s emotions reach a breaking point, as if something snapped inside her she immediately moved forward encircling her arm around Daisy's neck locking in a tight grip. She then swung her other fist at Daisy, her boxing glove landing a powerful punch on her face as she kept her arm locked around her. The impact sent Daisy kneeling while Natasha stood behind her not letting her go, causing gasps and murmurs from the surrounding crowd.
The referee blew his whistle with a sharp, shrill sound, which echoed through the ring. He then extended his arm and pointed directly at Natasha, who had staggered backward losing her hold on Daisy.
Daisy recovered from the forceful blows, she rose unsteadily to her feet, her left eye was swollen and there was a cut on her lips. She let out a guttural snarl and stalked Natasha who was crawling backwards, Daisy leaned down to her and yelled, “Are you tryna kill me, too? Huh?!”
“You fucking kill—”
“Watch your next words Johnson!” You yelled as you ran and jumped towards the ring.
“Y/N she went out with the rules! She…she almost—” Daisy stopped when she saw you kneel in front of Natasha.
“I’m sorry,” Natasha immediately whispered. You furrowed your brows at her.
“Romanoff…”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” her voice became hoarse as she repeatedly whispered. As she continued to apologize, you stared into her eyes, noticing a look in them that revealed something deeper than mere regret. It was as though a hidden trigger had been set off within her.
“Romanoff…” you called out to her again.
“I’m sorry, Y/N…I—” she choked.
“Nat,” you called softly as you brought your hands on her cheeks. Her lips trembled as she finally looked at you, “You're okay,” you gave her a smile and she nodded slowly as if she was high with the sound of your gentle voice and your soft feathery touch.
As if she was an evil and you were an angel attempting to soothe her troubled soul.
“Yelena,” you summoned the blonde over. You removed the gloves on her hands and Natasha's gaze remained fixed on your every move, her eyes never straying as if she feared losing this connection between you—it was the closest she's been with you. Her breath hitched when you moved away to give Yelena a way to help Natasha stand. Yelena knelt in front of her and propped her up with a supportive arm around her shoulder.
You watched as Natasha and Yelena slowly moved out of the ring and away from the center of attention.
You ex-fiance, who stood surrounded by her team members from her division, remained surprisingly calm. She has been watching how you treated Natasha and she didn't like it—she wanted to tear you away from her.
You stepped up closer to her, your voice low and filled with venom as you spat out, “You know she was a new recruit and you still challenged her.”
“Oh Y/N we all know she's more than just a recruit.”
You huffed at her words, you couldn't hold the outrage any longer and you hissed back, “You think I didn't notice? You triggered my agent!” Your voice trembled in anger. “Dreykov's daughter? Really? You would bring that up? How did you even know about that?” You started eyeing each of her team who were looking down to try and avoid your gaze. You know damn well that they know something about it. You huffed on how pathetic they looked.
Natasha's information was kept under you since she was your mission back then. No one could access this information unless they possessed the same level of clearance and security clearance as you did as a level 7 S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.
Dreykov's daughter was the collateral damage to end Dreykov himself, to end the empire he built that brought horrors to the lives of young little girls. It was the last thing Natasha did before getting into the S.H.I.E.L.D. with the help of Clint.
You turned your gaze back to Daisy who is now looking down too. “Daisy…” you squeezed your eyes shut, “I forgave you for what you did to us,” you gulped as you tried to hold your tears at bay, you couldn't even utter the words that would bring up the memory of her betrayal. That she cheated.
The silence that had fallen over the entire room was almost deafening and you could feel the weight of everyone’s gaze bearing down to the both of you. You’ve had so much attention today already.
“Please stop going out of your way for this. Stop embarrassing yourself, you look desperate.” With that, you immediately stepped out the ring leaving her, she tried to go after you but her team immediately held her back.
After reading the text from Yelena, you can't believe it - they're still planning on going to the after-party after what just went down. You can feel the frustration rising inside you, almost boiling over as you read the message again.
“Please, Y/N join us, we’re all here with Natasha. She’s okay now but she's got bruised lippie though.”
“If you're scared that earthquake’s gonna be here, no she's not, so please join us here boss.”
Yelena then sent a video after she noticed that all her messages were just marked as seen by you. It's your team whining in the background, begging you to come to the party, but your gaze was fixated on Natasha's face on the screen. She waved shyly, her bruised lips forming a tight-lipped smile, the sight just making you sigh disappointingly before getting out of your car.
As you made your way into the party, you were relieved to find that most eyes were averted from you. You had been expecting a similar scene as the one earlier when you confronted your ex-fiance, but it seemed that the focus was on other things now. Maybe they're tired of the drama you had with her.
You spotted your team at a table near the bar, a few drinks already in front of them. They looked up as you approached, welcoming you with broad grins.
Yelena was the first one to greet you with a sly smile, acting as if nothing had happened earlier. “Well, look who decided to show up,” she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Here, let me help you with that.”
Before you could protest, Yelena had taken your purse and was leading you to a seat at their table. She pulled out the chair for you, gesturing for you to sit down.
Madisynn who was next to you, slurred slightly, a sure sign that alcohol had definitely gotten into her system already. She stumbled over to you, her eyes lighting up as she turned and saw you. Her gaze lingered on you for a second before realizing it's you, her voice was slightly slurred as she exclaimed, “Boss! I'm so happy to see you. You look hella sexy in that dress! Right, Romanoff?!”
Natasha, who had been quiet until now, spoke up timidly. “Yeah, you look…” she trailed off, careful on what to say, you really looked sexy right now. The way that your black dress hugged your body and highlighted your curves, but she didn't want to sound perverted
“Beautiful,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.
Yelena leaned in closely, her lips hovering mere centimeters from your ear. She looked at Natasha before whispering, loud enough for the redhead to hear, “I think you look delicious right now, Y/N.”
She then playfully nipped at your earlobe with her teeth, a sly smirk on her face. The brief contact sent a shiver down your spine. Yelena was never one to hold her tongue, she didn't have a filter and often spoke her mind without thinking.
You however, decided to play along with Yelena's antics, you faced her with a coy smile. Your faces were now mere inches apart, and you could see a hint of redness creeping up on Yelena's cheeks.
For a moment, it seemed like she was taken aback by your boldness, but then she regained her composure. Still, she couldn't help but back down slightly, her gaze lingering on your face before quickly looking away. You smirked as Yelena visibly backed down, her confidence faltering for a moment. Deciding to tease her further, you leaned in even closer and said, “What's wrong, Yelena? I thought I looked delicious.”
Natasha watched the exchange between you and Yelena, her eyes narrowing slightly. She hadn't realized just how close you were with Yelena, and it made her shift a little awkwardly in her seat.
A pang of jealousy flared up within her, but she quickly pushed it down. It was none of her business who you chose to be close to even if it's with her closest friend, and besides she had no right to feel possessive over you. Not when you hate her.
Not when you were supposed to be the one to take her out.
Still, the sight of Yelena being so flirtatious with you made her feel a little bothered. She found herself coughing involuntarily. It was an unexpected reaction, and she quickly tried to cover it up with a sip of her drink.
Yelena caught sight of Natasha and a sly grin spread across her face. She exchanged a glance with Madisynn in a brief second enough for you and Natasha not to notice.
“You okay, Romanoff?” The blonde asked, as she wrapped her hands on your waist, you on the other hand leaned to the blonde—not aware of the antics that she and Madisynn planned.
You were comfortable with Yelena's closeness, having known her for a long time and having shared many experiences together. She was like a strict baby sister, the type of sister that would ask you who you were with and what time you would be back. And If anyone hurt you, she wouldn't hesitate for a second to go after them. Her protective nature went into overdrive, and she would hunt down whoever had caused you pain. She cares for you and she would go far to keep you safe.
She had been there for you during tough times, like when Fury had to call her to make you come out to your childhood bedroom after your ex-fiance cheated on you or when she had to clean your room after she finally get you out to eat at the dinner table with your father. She had seen you smile because of your ex but she saw you cry more about her. Tough and good times, she had been there—always.
You yourself look out for her too—she can be careless at times so you gently correct her when she crosses the line or make sure she doesn't get into too much trouble. But at the same time, you also relied on her quirky sense of humor and unwavering support. She was part protector, part best friend, and part sibling all rolled into one.
“Let's play medusa y’all!” An agent shouted in the distance and it made you laugh.
“What are we? In college?” You huffed after, only to be dragged by Yelena.
“We’re joining!” Your eyes widened in disbelief and attempted to pull away from her grip, wanting nothing to do with this childish game. But just as you were about to tear yourself away, Madisynn suddenly latched onto your other arm, effectively trapping you. You were too confused when you noticed that Yelena was gone and Madisynn replacing her as if it was all planned.
“This will be fun boss, c’mon.” She slurred with a drink on her other hand.
You forgot to breathe as you saw Daisy across the room, conflicting emotions bubbled up within you, how in the hell she's here and you didn't even know?
Part of you wanted to run away from the room to escape the memories of her betrayal. But another part of you, driven by your desire to maintain your composure and dignity, compelled you to stay and keep things professional after what she did to you and to your agent.
But…a small, a sly part of you, tucked away in a hidden corner of your mind, whispered a tempting thought.
What if I make her jealous?
The idea was a little petty and you knew it, but you couldn't help the flicker of satisfaction it brought you. The chance to show Daisy that you were doing just fine without her, perhaps even better, was tantalizing.
But with who?
As various agents approached you with smiles, greetings or drinks, a wave of realization washed over you. Deep down, you knew this whole thing was ridiculous. Trying to find someone to make out with solely to make your ex jealous was a far cry from the person you aspired to be.
You shook your head slightly, silently scolding yourself for even contemplating such a childish idea. This whole situation was just plain stupid, however, despite the logical part of your brain telling you it was a stupid, a small, defiant part of you still wanted to go through with it.
If only you had known, but you were oblivious to the fact that Daisy had been burning with jealousy since the moment she spotted you with Natasha during the game.
Darcy, with her usual enthusiasm, called out to the group of agents gathered around you, “Alright, everybody! Form a circle, it's time to start!” She then saw you and let out a squeal, “Hi boss!”
You waved shyly before you settled down on the cold floor of the room with Madisynn beside you, “Where's Romanoff?” You asked, “and Yelena…” You rushed out. Madisynn then gestured with her drink, drawing your attention to the direction she was pointing. There, across from you, sat the redhead and the blonde.
Yelena had made sure that you and Natasha were seated directly across from each other, perfectly setting up the game of Medusa to play out exactly how she had planned.
“Alright, everybody!” Darcy shouted, getting the group's attention. “Everyone sit in a spot where you can see all of the other players.”
Once the group had taken their seats, she continued, “Now, each of you put your heads down. On the count of three, you'll raise your heads and stare directly at someone else. If you lock eyes with someone, both of you lose, and I will yell 'Medusa' if I caught y’all staring at each others’ asses and I will be sending you to 7 Minutes in Heaven!”
The agents began shouting and whistling, creating a chaotic atmosphere, hyped up from the game.
With a flourish of her hand, Darcy counted down, “Three, two, one.”
Everyone raised their heads, and you were suddenly faced with a sea of staring eyes. You quickly darted your eyes to an agent who was luckily not staring at you. The room buzzed with tension as people nervously tried to avoid locking gazes with the other players. Darcy stood in the center, ready to call out the first pair of victims. Her eyes scanning the group, spotted a pair that had locked eyes with each other. A sly grin spread across her face as she called out, “Medusa!”
The two unfortunate players were singled out and a chorus of “ooo” and whistles erupted from those around them. They sheepishly got up, blushing as they made their way toward the 7 Minutes in Heaven.
As the players shuffled off to the 7 Minutes in Heaven room, the game continued. It was only a matter of time before another pair would be called out for staring. You found yourself becoming more nervous as the round progressed.
Darcy's eyes glinted mischievously as she scanned the group once more, eagerly awaiting her next opportunity to pounce on a paired set of victims.
You were contemplating your strategy. And thought of Natasha, part of you knew that Natasha was averse to staring, always quick to look away—especially on you. But this might work to your advantage.
As the countdown ended, you found yourself staring at Natasha. She, as expected, was not looking at you. However, your heart raced when you noticed her eyes on someone else in the group. You furrowed your brows, trying to follow her line of sight to see who she's staring at.
Who was she looking at? Is she eyeing someone else? Oh, how you hoped that whoever she's staring at isn't looking back at her too.
You finally let yourself breathe, a wave of relief washing over you as Darcy called out “Medusa,” pointing at the pair who had been caught staring at each other. Thankful that it wasn't Natasha and whoever she's staring at, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders.
As Natasha navigated her way through the game, a plan formed in her mind. She glanced over at you, contemplating the likelihood of making eye contact with you. Her thoughts ran through her head, reasoning that you wouldn't look at her because you harbored a deep dislike for her—who would lock eyes on someone they hate, after all?
Natasha glanced around the room full of agents, her gaze falling upon Daisy, who was watching you as giggles escaped your lips at whatever Madisynn was whispering to you. The sight of your ex continuously eyeing you only made Natasha wish that you wouldn't look at your her the same way again as you did when you were still together.
She wished that you would look at her—this time.
“3”
“2”
“1”
You find yourself staring at the green orbs staring right back at you and the world seemed to stopped only for it to continue when Darcy shouted Medusa, her fingers pointed decisively at you and Natasha.
A collective gasp filled the room as everyone realized what had just taken place. Darcy's gleeful expression revealed her satisfaction at having caused this unexpected twist. Madisynn and Yelena traded smug grins, thrilled to see their plan unfolding flawlessly. They had orchestrated this moment carefully and their plans had paid off.
As word spread about your unexpected pairing with Natasha, your ex, Daisy, couldn't help but glance your way. She tried to hide her fueling rage, but her emotions were laid bare in her eyes. A lot of agents were looking her way too, satisfied at her reaction and silently rooting for Natasha.
Madisynn placed a gentle hand on your shoulders, helping you stand up from being seated on the floor. Your mind was still reeling from the sudden turn of events, unable to fully grasp what was happening. As you looked at the small cabinet not so far away from of you, the realization of who you would be sharing such a confined space with finally sank in.
“Times ticking boss.” Darcy whispered as she gently held your hands and pulled you. Meanwhile, Natasha was being ushered ahead by Yelena. Yelena then pushed Natasha gently into the small chamber, causing her to stumble forward slightly as she made her way into the cramped space. The room was dimly lit, its walls closed, not enough to leave little room to maneuver.
Natasha looked up as you stood just outside the small chamber. She saw how hesitant you are and she spoke up softly, “If you don't want this, you don't have to.” Her voice was gentle, giving you the option to back out of the situation if you so desired.
But you didn't listen to her, you immediately climbed into the small room and found yourself sitting beside the redhead. Before you had a chance to process the tight space, the door closed with a distinct click, sealing you inside with her.
Darcy's voice echoed from the other side of the door, she knocked, reminding that your time starts now, “Alright, lovebirds, 6:59 minutes. Enjoy your time there!” Her amusement was evident, and her words were followed by a series of giggles and shouts heard in the distance.
As Natasha hugged her knees and said, “We don't need to do anything,” she did so with a sense of finality, as if speaking aloud the thoughts that were already in your head. She already assumed you wouldn't want to do anything in this tiny-spaced room.
You haven't really scolded her for accepting the challenge from your ex and for going in here when she's supposed to be resting, you wanted to, though, but seeing her right now at this moment, you just couldn't bring yourself to.
You broke the silence, your words reverberating in the small chamber. “We can talk,” you suggested softly—too softly, your fingertips grazing the ceiling inches above your head. You asked once again, “Do you want to talk about something?”
Natasha sat silently, her eyes locked on the door as if she just wanted all this to be over, and for a moment, she didn't respond to your question. The quietness in the tiny space seemed to stretch on and her lack of response left you unsure of how to continue—so you just stayed silent too.
A couple of minutes have passed and you two just sat there. The silence between you was heavy, almost unbearably so, until Natasha finally spoke.
“Do you think you would make the same decision as Clint,” she started, her voice soft yet steady, “if you were the one sent to take me out?”
You were taken aback by Natasha's question, her words piercing through any facade you may have tried to maintain. How did she know about it? Panic and anger surged through you as you thought of the only person who could have told her the about it—intentionally told her. But you quickly pushed that thought aside, realizing it was a moot point now. The dilemma of how to respond to her question left you momentarily tongue-tied.
Would you? You asked yourself.
“I…” you trailed off, “I don't know.”
You took a deep breath, your voice low and steady as you finally admitted the truth. “Everything happens for a reason, Romanoff,” you began, your words measured, you’ve never been like this when you were talking to her. You’ve always been so honest, no, harsh when it comes to her, “It was originally my mission to take you out.”
“But Clint was the one sent with the same mission, you.” You sighed disappointingly as you recall the memory.
“I was upset, bitterly disappointed, angry.” You looked down at your thighs plopping sideways, “I immersed myself in studying you, devoting significant time understanding your every move, training myself on how to…” you stopped realizing what the next words would be, but Natasha knew what it was you’ve been trying to say.
You’ve been training yourself on how to eliminate her—to kill her.
There was a silence between the two of you again, not heavy this time, you leaned back against the cold wall and squeezed your eyes shut for a moment before opening them again.
“He made a different call for a reason.”
Natasha looked at you intently as you spoke again, “He saw something in you. And I think I do see that now.” You finally looked at her.
As you locked gazes, your eyes involuntarily fixated on her bruised lips, and you were certain that she was doing the same. However, the intensity of the moment became too palpable and you found yourself awkwardly turning your eyes away from her in an attempt to alleviate the growing tension.
“Boss, are you still alive in there?” You heard Darcy call out, how dare she ask if you were the one still alive? If there is someone supposed to be out of breath right now, it would be the redhead beside you. “You still got 2 minutes…and 32!”
“I wonder what other agents did in this room.” You suddenly spoke, but you didn't mean it to come out as if you were trying to hint to do the same thing you know agents did in this tight room which is releasing some sexual frustrations. “Gross.” You then whispered that made the redhead laugh.
“Yeah, I think they really need that.” She replied in a low voice, trying not to burst into more giggles.
“Wow, aren't you sexually frustrated too Agent Romanoff?” Maybe now you are hinting something.
Her voice echoed through the small space as she quipped, “I don't wanna get another punch from your ex.”
“You wouldn't catch a punch for me? Agent Romanoff?” you teased, your seductive tone adding an extra layer to the already charged atmosphere between you two.
Only if you know the things she would do and take for you.
“Trying to make your ex jealous?”
“Hm?” you eyed her before focusing with the necklace around your neck, fiddling with it absentmindedly as you avoided the redhead’s accusation when suddenly, her hands reached out and pinched your waist.
The action caught you off guard and an unintentional gasp escaped your lips. At that moment, Yelena's voice echoed through the door, as she whisper-shout, “What was that?!”
“What was that for?!” You quickly slapped Natasha's arm in retaliation, causing her to exaggerate a groan of pain that was heard outside.
“Oh god, it's happening. Shit! Shit!” Yelena exclaimed, apparently unable to contain her excitement. A chorus of shouts and whistles erupted from the agents gathered just outside the door, their reactions evident even through the thick boundary.
The situation was too absurd to not find amusing and you struggled to contain your laughter. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth, attempting to hide the impending giggles and shock at the chaos happening outside. You looked over at Natasha, you found her wearing a smirk. She then gestured for you to tap on the walls and you followed her lead, making a moaning sound as you did.
“Oh god!” you exclaimed, feigning a sense of ecstasy, playing into the moment and the reactions you knew you were eliciting from the agents outside.
“Oh god?!” Yelena and Madisynn shouted in chorus, “Praise the Lord!”
As you continued your act, Natasha suddenly spoke, her voice low and seductive. “Oh yeah?” she purred, “Mhm, yeah. That's my good girl,” she murmured, the praise and the nickname making you feel and think inappropriate things right now. 
Is this even appropriate?
Both you and Natasha released synchronized grunts and moans, intentionally creating the illusion of some... passionate act.
As your performance continued, you could hear Yelena's voice rise above the others, “Romanoff, if you hurt Y/N, I swear I'll chop you into tiny pieces!” Yelena threatened. “42 sex-onds!” she reminded in a rush.
“Get on my lap,” you hadn't even realized what you were doing until you found yourself sitting sideways on Natasha's lap, your tight dress not allowing you to straddle her but you still complied with her commanding order. The space between you grew even tighter, the proximity leaving you heady and breathless.
Natasha then shifted her thighs beneath you causing you squeal in surprise. 
“Sorry,” she whispered, but you just nodded, your face a burning kettle. Outside the door, the agents’ voices grew louder, their excitement evident as they reacted to the sounds you and Natasha were making.
“They were rushing it out!”
“Give them more time! C'mon!”
“I hope at least one of them could finish.”
You brought your hand on your mouth to contain your laughter once again. You blushed at the comment of the agents, the other was holding Natasha’s shoulder so you can steady yourself.
“18 seconds!”
The countdown and the outside world faded into the background as you bit your lip, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Overwhelmed by the moment and the intensity of your emotions, you leaned in and surged forward, your lips crashing onto hers, bruising them further in a desperate and passionate kiss.
As your lips melded together, Natasha's hands instinctively found their way to your waist, gripping it firmly, grounding you both. Pulling away, you locked eyes with Natasha, the gravity of the moment finally sinking in. Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you notice her lip, slightly bloodied with traces of your lipstick smeared across it. 
“I can't believe I just wasted those minutes in silence when I can have this with you,” she confessed.
And with that, the door of the small room you were in swung open, signaling that your 7 Minutes of Heaven is finally over.
The Call: Masterlist
375 notes · View notes
jobean12-blog · 6 months ago
Text
Where You Belong
Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (pre or no!outbreak Joel-Friends to Lovers)
Word Count: 2,743
Summary: You and Joel have been friends for a long time and the tension has been building. It's hard to ignore and when he comes to your rescue it's all the push you need.
Author's Note: Just a little something because I love protective boys and love friends to lovers and Joel. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always!❤️❤️❤️ Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: sweet and fun fluff, some light tension, slightly sketchy boss no one likes, soft and protective Joel, kisses, friends to lovers
Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Do you want me to come with you?”
You turn to Joel who’s splayed out on your couch, his arm tucked under his head and his tee shirt riding up just high enough that you can see a sliver of skin.
After staring for a beat too long you shake your head no and he sticks his bottom lip out while making a disgruntled sound.
“I mean you can, I want you to,” you back track, “but it’s a work thing and you’ll probably be bored.”
“Is your new boss goin’ to be there?” he asks with a raised brow.
“Yeah. Unfortunately, he’s the one who organized it. Claims he wants us to get to know him better.”
You roll your eyes before turning away and searching for the mugs in the cabinet above the stove. Spotting the ones you want you reach up, straining and standing on your tippy toes.
“I don’t like that guy,” Joel grumbles.
“You met him once…for like a minute,” you counter.
“That was enough for me to know,” he says.
“Ugh!” you mutter when you still can’t grasp the mugs.
Suddenly, you feel his warm body press against your back as his arm rises above your head and easily grabs one mug then the other.
“These?” he asks with a boyish smirk.
“Yeah,” you sigh and take them from his hands. “Thanks. What would I do without you?”
You turn and face him, still trapped against the stove when he smiles and says, “I have no idea.”
Pressing a palm to his chest you shove him away and head for the coffee maker. You don’t even ask if he wants a cup, knowing already that he definitely does and just how he likes it.
An hour later when the coffee’s all gone and you’re too comfortable to want to leave you check your phone anyway and sigh.
“Guess it’s time to go,” you say but instead stretch out along the couch and stuff your feet under Joel’s arm.
“You look ready to go,” he chuckles.
Your eyes close but you can’t hide your smile and when he starts tickling your feet you instantly come alive and start kicking at him.
“FINE! I’m going. If you wanted to get rid of me that badly you could have just said so,” you tease.
“I’m at your house babe,” he replies and does nothing to hide his grin.
“Oh. Yeah. Well…” and your words trail off as you stomp into your bedroom to change.
When you emerge from your room, dressed and ready, you’re looking through your bag for your phone and you don’t notice Joel resting along the wall.
“Wow,” he says, louder than intended.
You startle and look up.
“What?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly.
He clears his throat and waves his hand dismissively before grabbing his keys.
“Maybe I should come with you,” he says, more to himself than you as he tries to keep his eyes glued to your face and not traveling down the rest of your body.
“You’ll hate every minute of it” you tease.
Before you reach your door he’s there and holding it open for you and when you walk toward your car he follows, opening the driver’s side door when you click the lock.
“Ok, well, have fun,” he says.
“Thanks. I’ll try.”
“Call if you need me.”
“I will,” you say quietly.
He presses his fingers under your chin and tilts your head up until you’re looking directly into his eyes.
“Promise?” he whispers.
“I promise,” you tell him.
His gaze softens and wanders over your face, then he presses a delicate kiss to the corner of your mouth.
You plop down into the seat of the car and wait for him to shut the door. He backs away and watches you pull out of the driveway before heading to his pick-up truck.
Tumblr media
“So where is everyone else?” you ask as you sit at the bar and sip your drink.
“Not here yet I guess,” your boss shrugs.
You shift and let your eyes sweep the bar space, silently willing someone else from work to walk in. Your new boss was hired about six months ago. He’s not much older than you and at first seemed nice enough but the more time you’ve spent in his presence the more you notice his lingering glances and unwanted touches.
Thankfully, it’s never gone far enough where you’ve had a problem but you’ve spoken to Joel about it and of course he wants to kick his ass.
Your boss, Scott, leans in closer. Too close and you try to remain unbothered, pulling back only slightly and holding your smile.
“So, tell me more about yourself. I know you’ve been at the company for over a year but since I’ve only been here half that time I’d like to get to know you better,” he croons.
“Umm,” you start as an uncomfortable feeling creeps along the back of your neck. “Well, I uh…love this place. The food is great. You made a good pick.”
He smiles triumphantly at your praise. “Great! Let’s get some dinner then!”
Before you can protest he signals the bartender.
“What’s your suggestion,” Scott asks.
The bartender’s eyes slide to you, a question hanging silently in his gaze, and you smile before saying, “the burgers are really good.”  
“Sounds great,” Scott smiles. “Make it two burgers.”
The bartender nods and walks back toward the kitchen.
“Shouldn’t we wait for the others to show up?” you ask.
“They can order something if they come.”  
“If…?” you question, but your next thought is interrupted when he lays a hand on your knee.
Your urge to pull away overrides everything else and you swivel on the stool, placing your drink down on the bar and standing.
“I’m just going to use the restroom before the food comes,” you explain, keeping a strained smile plastered to your face.
Scott smiles back and as you walk away from the bar you can feel his eyes on you the whole time.
When you reach the bathroom you rush inside the door and lock it, quickly grabbing your phone.
“Hey babe,” Joel answers after the first ring, “missed me that much already?”
“Can you come get me?” you ask in a hushed whisper.
“Are you ok?” he asks, his voice suddenly hard and alert.
“I’m fine…I just need you to come and get me…pretend I need to come home or something. I don’t know. Just make it work.”
“Are you sure you’re ok?” he asks again and you can hear his keys jangling.
“Yeah, just hurry. My boss is the only one here and he’s being sketchy.”
“Where are you now?”
“In the bathroom.”
“Just stay there. I’ already in the truck.”
“I can’t Joel. I have to go back out. I can’t make this look too weird.”
“I knew I didn’t like this guy. He’s an asshole. I should knock him out flat when I get there.”
“Joel,” you plead.
“Ok sweetheart,” he relents with a softened tone. “I’m already on my way.”
“Ok. I’ll be at the bar.”
You hang up and wash your hands then take a deep breath.
As you walk back to the bar you see Scott searching for you, his smile widening when he spots you approaching.
“There you are,” he says as you sit. “I ordered you another drink.”
“Oh,” you answer, looking at your first drink that’s still half full. “Thanks.”
You make small talk, trying to keep the conversation neutral and focused on easy topics like movies and music. He orders his third drink before the food arrives and you can tell he’s starting to get a little drunk.
The bartender shows up with your food orders and when you don’t take a bite your boss frowns.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
You get the impression he’s waiting for you to take a bite before he does so you pop a fry into your mouth.
“These are really good,” you mumble through the mouthful.
He looks pleased and takes a bite of his burger.
“So is the burger,” he says after swallowing. “Good idea.”
Your eyes slide to the door of the bar when you hear it open but it’s not Joel and your shoulders deflate.
“Everything ok?” Scott asks.
“Oh yeah, yeah,” you answer quickly and drag your eyes from the door.
As you’re slowly sipping your water you see Scott’s fork pause halfway to his mouth. His eyes are trained on something over your shoulder, by the door, and you know Joel has arrived.
You place your drink down and turn. He’s standing just a few feet away, covetous dark eyes focused on you. A familiar awareness races along your skin, heating it but at the same time making you shiver with anticipation.
He starts to move toward you with purposeful steps, his jaw set in determination and his fists clenched at his sides.
Without removing his gaze from you he slowly slides his hand across your shoulders and down your arm, taking your hand in his and lifting it to his lips. He kisses your palm and then hauls you off the stool into his arms.
You visibly relax and your eyes go bright with relief as he looks you over.
“Hey,” he says softly. “I’m here.”
You press yourself against his chest and grab a fistful of his shirt.
“Hey yourself.”
Scott clears his throat and it snaps you out of your cocoon of comfort. Reluctantly you put some space between you and Joel and open your mouth to introduce him.
He beats you to it.
“Joel,” he says, holding out his hand. “Her boyfriend.”
Scott looks surprised at first and then skeptical as he reaches his hand out. You can tell Joel shakes it with a death grip and you try to suppress a giggle.
“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Scott says.
“Well, she definitely is” Joel answers with a hard grind of his jaw.
“That’s too bad for me,” Scott says.
Joel’s arm tightens around your waist and you can hear his growl of disapproval. Scott seems oblivious to his inappropriateness and you want to punch him yourself.
Instead, you ask Joel, “so what’s going on? Is everything ok at home?” You signal as you best you can with your eyes that he better come up with a good excuse as to why he showed up at the bar.
“Right,” Joel says. “I don’t mean to disturb your work get together,” and he says that with a wry smile and a sarcastic tone, “but I need you to come home.”
“We haven’t finished eating,” Scott chimes in.
“We’ll get it wrapped,” Joel replies cooly.
You give his side a little squeeze, hoping to prompt him to elaborate.
“The dog threw up all over the floor. Think she ate something funny. I figured you would want to come home and check on her.”
He says it all in a rush of words, looking worried.
“The dog!” you exclaim. “Oh poor thing.”
Your boss looks between the two of you. “I didn’t know you had a dog either,” he says.
“Well, you mentioned you wanted to get to know me better,” you say, hoping you sound sweet enough.
“So this is my boyfriend Joel and we live together with our dog…Macaroni.”
You can feel Joel’s body shake with his restrained laughter.
“That’s an interesting name…” Scott muses.
“She’s a light beige color and wiggles a lot,” Joel adds. “It fits.”
You laugh and it’s not forced, the whole made up story sounding more and more like a life you could easily and happily live.
When you spot the bartender you ask for a to go container and pack up your barely eaten food. Joel takes out his wallet and drops some cash on the bar.
“I’m sorry I have to run off like this,” you say, feigning disappointment.
“It’s ok,” Scott answers. “It was nice to hang out. Even for a little while. See you Monday.”
Joel nods his goodbye without another word and slides his large hand to the small of your back, directing you toward the door.
“I want turn around and wipe that smile off his face with my fist,” Joel whispers as he leans down close to your ear.
You giggle and walk through the door he holds open for you, taking a deep inhale of the damp night air.
“That was some story you threw together,” you say with a laugh.
“Yeah, well, it worked right?! Now let’s get home and check on Macaroni.”
He takes your hand and tugs you toward his pick-up truck.
“But my car,” you say as you pass it by.
“I’m taking you home,” he answers.
“But…”
You reach his truck and he spins you around, pinning you against the door.
“Sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Please.”
You blink at him. “Ok.”
“Are you sure nothin’ happened?” he asks for the millionth time.
“I am. He just makes me uncomfortable and I didn’t want to be there anymore.”
“And you called me,” he says, stepping closer and crowding you against his truck.
At the feel of his body pressed along yours you suck in a breath of air.
“You told me to call…” you start in a whisper. “And you’re the only one I want to call anyway.”  
The wind picks up, whipping around and mussing his hair, the dark curls falling over his forehead. You lift your hand to brush them away and the first raindrop falls, cold and heavy.
“Shit,” Joel mutters when he feels several more drops hit his shoulders.
The sky opens up and the air is filled with the sound of the raindrops pelting the truck. The two of you are quickly getting soaked and his shirt starts to stick to his skin, highlighting every dip and curve of muscle. His dark lashes are thick and damp and his hair hangs loosely around his face, with just a curl at the ends.
His gaze sweeps down your body as your dress does the same, clinging to your wet skin and revealing the lace of your bra.
When his eyes are on yours again they’re filled with unbridled heat and you react by pressing yourself closer and tracing the broad width of his shoulders, your arms circling around his neck and your fingers delving into his hair.
Your lips hover just an inch apart and a low moan slips out of you, the sound making him release a sharp breath.
“Joel,” you whisper, barely audible over the rain.
He presses his palm to your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin and wiping away a drop of rain before he cradles your face and drags your lips to his.
Despite the coolness of the rain his touch is warm, the feeling spreading along your skin as you become soft and pliable in his arms.
You cling to him, matching his heaving breathing when he pulls away. He runs his calloused thumb across your bottom lip, groaning when your breath hitches and your eyes flutter closed.
“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, his expression almost pained.
You lick your lips, a clear invite for more, and he almost loses his last thread of sanity.
“Fuck,” he breathes out as his gaze dips to your mouth again, studying your lips like he wants to devour them.
The rain has completely soaked through your clothes but you could care less and when his lips find yours again you can feel the growl that moves through his throat. It sends you over the edge and you slide your hands down his chest, grasping at the wet material until you can slip your fingers under and feel his skin, keeping him impossibly close.
When you pull back, only to catch your breath, you follow the trail of a drop of rain as it runs down his temple and across his cheek, collecting on his upper lip. You gently suck it off, moaning when his hands grip your ass and he rocks his hips.
His hand smooths along the curve of your spine and his lips fall to your neck with a soft kiss.
He gathers you against him, running his nose along your throat until his warm breath fans your lips and his eyes are focused on yours.
“You’re so beautiful it hurts,” he whispers. “Let me take you home. Let me make you mine.”
Tumblr media
@lizette50 @hiddles-rose @lorilane33 @kmc1989
754 notes · View notes
epicbuddieficrecs · 4 months ago
Text
Weekly Recap | July 1st-14th 2024
Tumblr media
Work has been kicking my ass. Can't wait for my vacation! Hope you're all doing well!!
Complete
what if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh? by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Fanart, PWP | <1K | Explicit): “I'm gonna ride you,” Eddie says, flicking his wrist. “Okay, baby?” When Eddie straddles Buck's lap and sinks down, his eyes closed, he doesn’t fuck himself down onto Buck like he normally would— he wants to drag it out, tease his boyfriend untill he's a whimpering mess underneath him.
Sparks Fly by Inell/ @inell (Reporter Buck AU | <1K | Teen): Eddie meets his match when reporter Buck shadows the 118
Seeing Stars by Inell (Astronauts AU | <1K | Teen): Buck and Eddie are best friends who have been pining for a while when Buck finally makes a move.
when it all melts down by bucksclipboard/ @excuseme-greentea (Post-S7, Getting Together | 2K | Teen): Buck thinks a beach day is the perfect distraction from an empty house and a lack of summer plans. Eddie thinks if Buck walks out of the ocean like a Greek god one more time, he might just lose his mind. or: there’s only one cure for a frozen tongue after too much ice cream
The Moment is Here by Inell (Post-S7, Getting Together | 2K | Teen): Eddie has been in love with Buck for longer than he cares to remember but he’s been scared to jeopardize their friendship. Lucky for him, Buck is feeling brave this morning.
i'll never give you away ('cause i've already made that mistake) by Iover_of_mine (I_almost_do)/ @lover-of-mine (Post-S7, Love Confessions | 3K | General): Buck almost kissed Eddie at the bachelor party and forgot about it. Until he remembered.
this postcard tells you where we've been by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S7 | 3K | General): Eddie finds a collection of postcards Buck sent to Chris over his summer in El Paso.
pauses, then says you're my best friend (you knew what it was) by instantcaramel/ @buddiekinard (Social Media Fic, Post-S7 | 4K | General): buck drags eddie to a taylor swift concert. wackiness ensues.
Cursebreaker by Inell/ @inell (Post-S7, First Date | 4K | Teen): Buck is nervous about his apparent dating curse ruining his first date with Eddie. Lucky for him, Eddie doesn’t believe in curses.
A Love As True As Mine by Inell (Post-7x10: All Fall Down, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): After Buck gets injured during a call, he overcomes some personal issues and ideas of love with Eddie’s help.
One Look at You by Inell (Post-S7, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): Eddie and Buck are enjoying a night out when lines get blurred and feelings are finally admitted.
And There You Were by Inell (Post-S7, Getting Together, Fluff | 4K | Teen): After admitting their feelings for each other and spending the night together, Eddie wakes up to find Buck in the kitchen and decides to distract him. 
I Can See Clearly Now by Inell (Post-S7, Getting Together | 5K | Teen): During a simple call, Buck finds himself locked in a lab after a possible exposure with Eddie and the rest of his team on the other side of the glass doors.
Pumpkin by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Canon Divergent, Dad Buck | 5K | General): “You were just telling us about your dog, Pumpkin. Three years old. You’re taking her to the park this weekend?” And, oh. Buck wanted to laugh. Hen thought Pumpkin was a dog. He did laugh; loud and wheezing. “Right, you’re right. Pumpkin. How could I forget?” Buck wiped a tear from his eye. He didn’t know why it was so funny, maybe he had bumped his head a little, but for some reason, Hen mistaking his three-year-old daughter for a dog was just about the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
🔥 bark like you want it by colonoscopys/ @colonoscopys (Soulmates AU, Crack | 7K | General): The first time Eddie Diaz hears his soulmate’s voice, he hears him say Damn, that’s a nice ass.
🔥 the book of love by colonoscopys (Time Loop, Getting Together | 8K | General): It was a pretty regular day. He had an eight hour shift the day before, slept in a little bit, ate dry toast and drank a black coffee before dropping Chris off at physical therapy for an hour. If he had known he was gonna die, he would have sprung for the hashbrowns in the freezer.
🔥 trying hard not to act a fool by arcanaphora (Didn't Know They Were Dating, Post-S7 | 10K | Teen): Or: 5 times Eddie jokes to Buck about marrying him + 1 time where Buck doesn't think it's very funny anymore
The heat of the moment by JamesPearce911/ @diazsdimples (PWP | 10K | Explicit): Tired and frustrated after a long shift, Buck and Eddie take an impromptu trip to the sauna. Only problem is, it's a nude sauna, which Buck didn't notice when he booked them in. Thankfully the boys handle the slip up gracefully, and possible break a few public sex laws in the process.
What if this storm ends? by JJK / @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Post-6x12: Recovery, Getting Together | 11K | Teen): After the lightning strike, Buck grapples with the fact that he's still alive, that he's hopelessly in love with Eddie, and that more than anything he wishes Eddie and Christopher could be his family. Too bad Eddie doesn't feel the same way, right? But then Buck chaperones Christopher's school trip and an injury shakes things up.
🔥 if i said you could never touch me by marviless/ @marviless (Established Buddie | 15K | Mature): “Buck. What’s wrong?” Buck closes his eyes, then blinks them open. “Nothing,” he says, because he doesn’t know how to tell the truth. He doesn’t know what the truth even is. “Everything’s, uh—everything’s fine. I just—” he chews on his lip. “I was just thinking that, uh, maybe we shouldn’t go any further tonight? You know, not with Christopher in the house.”
What is Love For $2000? by fayevian/ @fayevian (Canon Divergent, Jeopardy Contestant!Buck | 17K | Mature): One night when Eddie can't sleep, he discovers the hottest Jeopardy contestant of all time (objectively). With the "help" of his team and his fairly good working knowledge of Twitter, they devise a plan to get Evan (from Jeopardy) to slide into Eddie's DMs. It works surprisingly well.
🔥 keeping score by arcanaphora (Post-S7, Fake Relationship | 23K | Mature): After getting dumped, Buck is left with two tickets to a weeklong cruise. Eddie steps in to support a friend in need, but complications arise when his friend becomes his fake husband. All's fair in love, war, and trivia.
🔥 Steal My Sunshine by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Altered Memories | 30K | Mature): Memories hazy and unreliable, Eddie Diaz wakes up every morning in a house at the end of a cul de sac, goes to his office job at a petroleum engineering company, and comes home to his wife and son. But something is missing, and the more Eddie begins to put the pieces together, the stranger the predicament he finds himself in. 
🔥Anywhere I Want, Just Not Home series by Daisies_and_Briars
Pennsylvania Under Me (Future Fic, Buckley Family | 22K | Teen): When unexpected circumstances require Buck to travel back to Hershey for the first time in over a decade, Eddie and Chris are right by his side. A Lot Like You (Future Fic, Buck&Bobby | 14K | General): The dynamics between everyone change when Buck and Eddie have another child and Bobby moves on from the 118. I Hold It Like a Grudge (Buck&Maddie, Future Fic | 11K | Teen): Buck and Maddie come into unexpected and unwanted conflict when their parents meet Buck's son for the first time, by surprise, when he is under Maddie's care.
WIP
The Smutty Ones by Tizniz/ @tizniz (PWP | 56/? | 23K | Explicit): A collection of smutty Buddie drabbles.
E & E: A Buddie Drabble Collection by Tizniz (Prompt fic | 105/? | 22K | General): A collection of drabbles for Buck and Eddie.
It's Me That He's Always Choosing by I_still_dont_understand_13/ @dangerpronebuddie (Prompt fic | 20/? | 8K | Explicit): A collection of smut prompts originally posted on tumblr.
🔥 boys, when my baby found me by nondz (pinkjook) (Post-S7, Presumed Dead Eddie | 2/3 | 17K | Explicit): “It just feels… I don’t know. I feel like I’m back to being an old version of me. Like I’m— fucking— Buck 2.0 again. I can’t be good to him if I’m Buck 2.0. I know that.” Eddie frowns. “I first met you when you were Buck 2.0. And you were good to me.” Or: three months later, things are mostly back to normal. And then there's an accident.
🔥 Held Up a Lightning Rod (Wonder Why I'm Struck) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Not A Firefighter Eddie, Sugar Baby Buck | 10/22 | 46K | Explicit): When Eddie Diaz stumbles his way into money, he finds himself one of the most eligible bachelors in Los Angeles - to his dismay. He needs a way to get people off his back without confessing his messy marital situation, and Shannon's still not answering his calls, so he caves to a friend's suggestion: hire someone to pretend to be his partner. Enter Evan "Buck" Buckley: sugar baby, fire fighter, and the man about to turn Eddie's world upside down.
🔥 If You Can Make the Music by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, | 3/5 | 7K | Mature): Spin-off Sequel to Evan Buckley & the Coma-Verse of Madness - Chapter 5 (Seaside): A year after a whirlwind two week love affair with bartender Buck in Galveston, Texas, Eddie Diaz finds himself coincidentally relocating to the area. But when he attempts to reconnect with Buck, he's in for an unfortunate surprise. (Part 3 of Coma-Verse)
🔥 you're almost home (i've been waiting for you to come in) by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (Post-S5, Canon Divergent - Roommates, Getting Together | 3/5 | 18K | Mature): Buck moves in. Eddie comes out. Things get a little messy.
🔥 Long Death by Daisies_and_Briars (Post-S7, Vampire AU | 5/10 | 17K | Explicit): In the summer of 2024, a never before seen form of vampirism breaks out in Los Angeles. Just as Eddie is about to get his son back. Six months later, Buck's life is permanently changed.
🔥 Any Other Way by Daisies_and_Briars (Canon Divergent, S2 | 14/19 | 71K | Mature): In a switcheroo alternate universe, Buck spends young adulthood in the military, while Eddie, who has no idea Christopher exists, spends his twenties messing around, finally enjoying freedom away from his family’s expectations. When they both end up in Los Angeles, at the 118, some things are different, and others will be the same in any universe.
🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 130/? | 408K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.
202 notes · View notes
shitsndgiggs · 26 days ago
Note
Okay okay okay, I have thunk thoughts
What about like where Lamine has like gotten his wisdom teeth, but he like has to get then removed and it's just some hilarious sappy stuff
LOOPY CLOUDS - LAMINE YAMAL
Lamine getting his wisdom teeth removed
Lamine Yamal x fem! reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿
I was sitting in the waiting room of the dentist’s office, nervously scrolling through my phone as I waited for Lamine to come out.
He was in surgery, getting his wisdom teeth removed, and even though he’d been calm about it earlier, I knew the aftermath was going to be hilarious.
The dentist had already warned me that the anesthesia would make him a little loopy.
The door to the surgery room finally opened, and the nurse wheeled Lamine out in a chair, his face puffed up like a chipmunk, cotton stuffed in his cheeks, and a dazed expression on his face.
“Hey, cariño,” I said, trying not to laugh as I stood up to greet him.
Lamine blinked at me, his eyes glassy and wide. “¿Eres un ángel?” he mumbled, his voice slurred from the anesthesia.
I snorted. “I’m not an angel, Lamine, it’s just me.”
He squinted at me like he was trying to figure it out. “You… you’re soooo pretty,” he slurred, his head lolling to the side as he reached out, trying to touch my face but failing miserably.
I laughed and caught his hand, squeezing it gently. “Thanks, Lamine. You’re not looking too bad yourself, with all that cotton in your mouth.”
His eyes widened dramatically, and he pointed to his cheeks. “What’s in my mouth?! Did they put… clouds in there?” He looked absolutely horrified for a second before giggling to himself.
“No, no clouds. Just some cotton to help with the bleeding,” I said, trying not to burst out laughing.
Lamine blinked at me again, his face suddenly serious. “You love me, right?”
“Of course I love you,” I reassured him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
He pouted, his lip quivering like he was on the verge of tears. “Promise?”
“I promise,” I said, biting back a grin. “Forever.”
Lamine seemed to process that for a second, and then his entire face brightened. “You’re gonna marry me, right?”
I blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, maybe one day.”
His eyes grew wide with excitement, and he tried to sit up straighter in the chair. “We can get married right now! Let’s go to the moon! We’ll get married on the moon!”
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. “I don’t think that’s how weddings work, Lamine.”
He frowned, genuinely confused. “No moon wedding?” Then, after a moment of silence, he shrugged. “Okay, no moon. Just… just make sure you love me.”
I smiled, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “I do, silly. I love you so much.”
Satisfied, he nodded, then suddenly grabbed my hand dramatically. “Wait, where’s Daisy? Does Daisy love me too?”
Now, this was too much. “Daisy’s at home, but yes, she loves you too.”
Lamine beamed, his puffed-up cheeks making him look even more ridiculous. “Good. I love Daisy. She’s my best friend. After you.”
“Well, I’m honored to be ahead of Daisy,” I teased, unable to stop giggling.
As the nurse wheeled him towards the car, he was still mumbling sweet nonsense. “You’re so beautiful,” he slurred again. “Like a star… no, like ten stars… no, like all the stars.”
I shook my head, helping him get settled in the passenger seat. “You’re going to regret all of this when you’re not high on anesthesia.”
He looked at me with the same adoring eyes. “Never. I’ll love you forever, like the stars love the sky.”
I couldn’t help but smile as I buckled him in, knowing I’d tease him endlessly about this later. “Alright, Mr. Poetic. Let’s get you home.”
As we drove home, Lamine kept mumbling random things—about how soft the seat was, how he wanted to eat pasta but couldn’t, and how he couldn’t wait to marry me (again).
Every once in a while, he’d reach over and pat my shoulder, whispering, “You’re my favorite person in the world,” like it was the biggest secret.
When we finally got home and I helped him inside, he collapsed onto the couch, eyes half-open but still grinning like a goof. “Best day ever,” he mumbled before promptly falling asleep, his mouth slightly open, still stuffed with cotton.
I sat beside him, brushing his hair back with a soft smile. Despite the absurdity of the day, there was something so endearing about Lamine in this loopy, sappy state.
I’d never let him live it down, but for now, I just watched him sleep, enjoying the peace and the love-filled, if slightly ridiculous, adventure we’d just had.
140 notes · View notes