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byhuenii · 9 days ago

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YOU-ology

Pairing Bucky Barnes x Reader

Syonpsis Bucky has been trying to understand you—your habits, your silences, your smiles. You speak in gestures more than words, in shared glances and cups of coffee left just right.The problem? He doesn’t know what a “love language” is. It sounds like a literal dialect. So naturally, he puts on his reading glasses, makes a study binder, and asks Peter Parker to teach him Gen Z slang, but he knows one thing for sure: if loving you means learning everything—he’s ready to graduate with honors.

(Inspired by TXT 'Love Language')

Word Count 2.6k

Tags + Warning Soft misunderstanding / no angst, fluff overload, accidental confession via ASL, soft!bucky

— YOU-ology Researching you-ology, all about you, from A to Z

“I can’t read your mind,” he says, voice low. “But I want to.”

The sunlight hits just right in the Brooklyn apartment. You’re sitting on the windowsill, nursing your third cup of coffee, and Bucky’s leaning against the kitchen counter like the world isn’t tilting every time you look away from him.

You don’t speak right away. You’re used to silence. He’s learning that.

He watches as you stir your coffee absentmindedly. You always stir five times. Clockwise. Never more, never less.

He’s been keeping track of things like that.

Like how you always set out two mugs in the morning, even when he doesn’t sleep over. How you keep an extra blanket folded at the end of the couch even though he insists he doesn’t get cold. How you hand him a protein bar without asking if he’s eaten.

You don’t say much. But you do a lot.

And Bucky? Bucky’s trying to figure out if this—whatever this is—means what he hopes it does.

He’s never been great with feelings. Too many years pretending he didn’t have any. But with you, he wants to get it right.

“I think I might be speaking the wrong dialect of love,” he tells Peter Parker seriously. “Is there a Duolingo for romance?”

Bucky has fought in wars, survived brainwashing, outpaced death—and yet, nothing has confused him quite like you.

Well, you, and this strange thing Peter said over lunch the other day.

"Oh, love language? Yeah, it's like how people give and receive affection. You gotta know your partner's love language to really connect.”

Love language?

Bucky had blinked at Peter from behind his coffee, the words rattling around like marbles in a tin can. “There’s a language for that?”

Peter had shrugged like it was obvious. “Yeah, there are five. Physical touch, words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, and gifts. You know… the usual.”

Bucky had nodded slowly, like he understood. He did not understand. He thought "acts of service" was a military term.

Back home, Bucky had pulled out his reading glasses (the ones Sam doesn’t know he owns) and Googled:

“What is love language.” “Love language translation.” “How to know if you’re good at love.”

Twenty tabs later, he had a headache, a notebook full of bullet points, and a tiny post-it with your name surrounded by little doodled hearts he definitely didn’t mean to draw.

STUDY NOTES:

☑ Quality time → you always wait for him after missions

☑ Acts of service → you make his tea how he likes it (2 sugar, no judgment)

☑ Physical touch → light shoulder pats, a knee against his under the table, casual-but-not-casual hand touches

☑ Gifts → brought him a vintage Captain America comic once. He almost cried.

☑ Words of affirmation → okay this one’s harder. You’re quiet. You show love, but don’t say it much. Still… he catches you looking. That means something.

He circles the last one twice.

—

One morning, Bucky shows up to your door with a homemade dictionary titled:

“You-ology: A Comprehensive Field Guide to Understanding You” (Vol. 1 — Beta Edition)

It’s leather-bound. Handwritten. Indexed.

There’s a doodle of you on page one that looks suspiciously like it was done by a man lying on his stomach with his feet up and his legs kicking.

You flip through it, trying not to grin. “You made me a… glossary?”

Bucky pushes his glasses up his nose. “I’ve been decoding your signals.”

“You’ve been—what?”

“You say things without saying them. And I figured maybe if I could learn your dialect, I could say things back.”

You’re stunned. Speechless. Warm all over.

“Bucky,” you say, “you’re literally learning a love language like it’s a spy code.”

He squints. “It’s not?”

Once Bucky learns that love languages aren’t actual dialects, he’s a little embarrassed. For five whole seconds.

Then he decides:

“Fine. Then I’ll try all of them. Just in case.”

And he does. With alarming dedication.

Words of Affirmation: You wake up to a note on your fridge:

“You’re the smartest person I know. Even smarter than Banner. (Don’t tell him.) - B”

And another on your coffee cup:

“You deserve the world. But I brought you coffee instead. I hope that’s okay.”

When you turn around, he’s leaning on the counter, flushed red. “Too much?”

Acts of Service: You offhandedly mention your sink is dripping.

The next day it’s fixed. And your drawer doesn’t stick anymore. And your laptop’s updated. And your favorite hoodie that you thought you lost? Folded on your bed.

He salutes you on his way out like it’s a secret mission. “All in a day’s work, ma’am.”

Quality Time: He clears a Saturday. No missions. No distractions.

You watch four movies, eat terrible microwave popcorn, and fall asleep on his shoulder.

He doesn’t move. Not for hours. His arm goes numb. He doesn’t care.

He tells Sam later: “Best damn day I’ve had in decades.”

Gifts: He leaves a flower on your desk. Not a rose. A tiny forget-me-not. The tag says:

“This reminded me of your laugh. Kind of small. Kind of magic.”

You keep it in a book. He notices. Doesn’t say a word. Smiles so hard his cheeks hurt.

Physical Touch: He used to flinch. Now? He leans in.

You touch his hair once and he forgets how to breathe. Next day, he wears it slightly messy. Hopes you’ll do it again.

One day, you reach for his hand. He holds it like it’s fragile. Like you’re holding him. His thumb rubs soft circles into your palm.

“Just… letting you know I’m here,” he murmurs.

You squeeze back. “I know.”

Peter Parker ends up being his unofficial relationship coach.

“Wait—what’s a ‘green flag?’” “Peter, what does ‘simp’ mean?” “Is it normal to dream about their smile for six nights in a row or is that brain damage?” “Be honest. Am I down bad?”

Peter: “...You’re down astronomical, sir.”

—

One rainy night, you both get stuck in the Tower’s media room during a storm.

Bucky fidgets with the sleeves of his hoodie. You notice he’s scribbled something in the corner of his You-ology notebook.

You tilt your head. “What’s that?”

He doesn’t look up. Just says, “It’s… new vocabulary.”

He passes you the notebook.

He wants to understand you like he’s memorizing a secret language only the two of you speak.

He clears his throat. “I’ve been… trying to study you. Is that weird?”

Your brows raise slightly in amusement. “Study me?”

“Yeah,” he says, running a hand through his short hair. “Like—figure out what you’re saying when you’re not actually saying anything.”

You look at him now, eyes softening. “You’ve been reading my… ‘you-ology?’”

He laughs. It’s a quiet, rusty thing. Rare. But so warm when it happens.

“I guess I have,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “I know you like your coffee sweet but pretend you don’t. I know you always hum when you’re nervous, and you’ll never ask for help, but you’ll stay up until 2 a.m. helping me.”

His metal hand flexes. Nervous.

“And I know you look at me like I mean something… but I don’t know if I’m reading it right.”

Your voice is soft. “And what if you are?”

He stops.

His heart stops.

The sun hits your cheek just right, your smile so shy it breaks something open in him.

“I don’t talk much,” you add, “because I never really had to. Not with the right people. But I make sure they’re warm. That they eat. That they know I’m there, even when I can’t say it out loud.”

He swallows hard.

“Then I guess,” Bucky says slowly, stepping into your space, “I’ve been speaking your love language this whole time.”

You smile, fingers brushing the inside of his wrist. You trace the edge where skin meets metal. He shivers.

“And you?” you whisper. “What’s your language?”

He thinks. He’s never been asked that.

Maybe it’s not words. Maybe it’s quiet, safe mornings and the way he remembers your favorite color. Maybe it’s standing between you and the crowd even when there’s no danger. Maybe it’s showing up. Not running.

“I think,” he says, “it’s time. Sitting with you. Watching dumb movies. Letting you talk or not talk. Just… being.”

You nod. “Then you’ve been speaking mine too.”

His hand curls around yours.

Chapter 6: When I’m With You, Everything Makes Sense

Coffee = comfort

Silence = trust

Laughter = home

You = safe

You = mine? (still unsure. researching.)

Your throat tightens. “You big dork.”

He glances up, hopeful. “But… like, a lovable dork?”

You kiss his cheek. “Fluently lovable.”

Weeks later, you hand him a little leather journal.

On the front:

“Bucky-ese: A Guide to Loving You Back (YOU-ology)”

He flips it open.

Page One:

“Your love language is: All of them. But especially being seen. And I see you.”

He presses the book to his chest like it’s holy.

Then: “You wanna watch that stupid baking show and drink tea out of mismatched mugs like we’re 80?”

He grins. “That’s my favorite dialect.”

There’s no grand declaration. No fiery kiss.

Just soft, sacred quiet.

But that’s the thing about love languages. You don’t always need to hear them. Sometimes, you just feel them.

And Bucky?

He feels you.

—

Lately, he’s gotten really into studying TikToks and music videos you like. You walk in one night and he’s watching TXT’s “Love Language” choreo on repeat.

He’s squinting at the screen, rewinding and mimicking one particular moment — where the members make the “I Love You” sign in ASL, fingers shaped just right.

He sees you enter and lights up like a puppy who just figured out how to sit.

“Hey! I think I cracked it. That hand thing—like, this?” He does it—thumb, index, pinky up. “It’s like, modern slang for love, right? Like Gen Z emoji but with your hands?”

You pause mid-step.

Your heart thuds.

“Bucky… do you know what that actually means?”

He blinks. “Yeah! It’s like, ‘you’re cool’ or something? Peter said it’s used in dances a lot. You know, like ‘🤟 vibes only.’”

You stare at him. He’s still holding it up—so proud, so casual—like he didn’t just set fire to your entire nervous system.

“James.”

Your voice is soft. He stops.

You step forward slowly, take his hand in both of yours, and gently lower it.

“That sign isn’t slang,” you whisper, eyes searching his face. “It’s American Sign Language. It means ‘I love you.’ Literally. Not ‘cool.’ Not ‘vibes.’ Love.”

Silence.

His eyes go huge.

His mouth parts—then shuts. Then opens. Then shuts again. He is rebooting.

“…Oh.”

Then—quiet panic.

“…Oh.”

He scrubs a hand down his face. “Wait. Wait, I’ve been doing that for, like, three days. To you. While you were making dinner. On the couch. That one time in the elevator—”

You nod, very calm. “Yes. You told me you loved me 17 times. And yes, I counted.”

He is bright red. Apocalyptic red. He looks like he might spontaneously combust.

“I—I didn’t know—*I mean I do, I mean not like—*I mean obviously I do—” He’s flustered and fumbling, hands waving.

You grab them. Hold them gently. Steady.

“You really do?”

His voice is barely a breath. “Yeah.”

Your smile cracks through the tension like sunrise.

“Then say it again.”

You release one of his hands. He looks at you—heart on his sleeve, nerves frayed.

And slowly, deliberately, he lifts his hand again.

Thumb, index finger, pinky.

I love you.

And this time—he knows exactly what it means.

BONUS:LATER THAT NIGHT!!

He flops onto your couch face-down and groans into a pillow. “I confessed on accident like some kind of boyband backup dancer.”

You’re sitting next to him, stroking his hair. “It was perfect.”

He peeks up. “You sure?”

You grin. “Fluently perfect.”

He groans again—but he’s smiling.

—

“You’re my safe place, and I think I just proposed to you using the wrong hand sign, oh my god—can we rewind time or am I gonna die here on this rug?”

Bucky has a Plan™️.

After accidentally telling you “I love you” 17 times in ASL (without realizing it) and then on purpose (with realization), he’s decided he wants to learn a full phrase.

Something simple. Something sweet.

Something like:

“I’m happy with you.” Or maybe: “You’re my home.”

So he goes to Peter. Again.

Peter, to his eternal regret, pulls out a basic ASL learning app and walks Bucky through the signs.

Problem is, Bucky’s fingers don’t cooperate yet. His muscle memory is stubborn. His brain is full of you and short-circuiting.

What he meant to learn was:

“You make me feel safe.” (“YOU — MAKE — ME — FEEL — SAFE”)

What he accidentally signs, in a combination of nervousness and fumbled syntax, is:

“YOU — MAKE — ME — YOUR — WIFE.”

He doesn’t realize it.

You, who actually knows ASL, absolutely do.

It’s a quiet afternoon in your apartment. Rain against the window. Music low.

Bucky has that look again—the one where he’s clearly been practicing something all day and is about to do it nervously but dramatically.

You’re curled up on the couch when he stands in front of you, face serious, eyes way too shiny.

He clears his throat.

“Okay. I’ve been learning more. ASL. Because I wanna speak it the way you do. With your hands. With your heart.”

You melt. Instantly. He’s fidgeting, biting his bottom lip. He looks like a storm in a sweater.

Then he signs.

Slowly. Carefully.

“YOU — MAKE — ME — YOUR — WIFE.”

You freeze.

Your eyes go wide. Your heart? Gone. Brain? Empty.

Bucky is beaming.

“Did I get it right?”

You blink. “Um. Almost.”

“Yeah?” He looks so proud. “I practiced for, like, six hours. I wanted to say you make me feel… y’know, safe. Like… like I’m home.”

There is a pause.

Then you start laughing.

Not a mean laugh—a breathless, overwhelmed, you-are-so-stupidly-perfect-how-is-this-my-life laugh.

Bucky’s face crumples. “Wait. Did I say something weird?”

You can barely get the words out. “James Buchanan Barnes—you just proposed to me.”

He freezes.

Like—winter soldier frozen mid-mission freezes.

“…Wait. I what?”

You take his hands gently and show him.

“WIFE.” You do the correct sign. “SAFE.” You show the actual one. “Different hand shape.”

Bucky looks between your hands and his own like they’ve betrayed him.

His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

“…Did I really just—?”

You nod, biting your lip.

“…Oh god.”

He immediately flops to his knees, hands in his hair, face in his palms. He’s red everywhere.

“I didn’t mean to propose. I can’t propose like that—there was no ring, no speech, no flowers—you were in socks—”

You blink. “Would it have been better if I wasn’t in socks?”

“YES. I mean NO. I mean—GOD.”

He’s pacing now. “Do we take it back? Is it binding? Is this like vampire rules where once you say it it’s done—I didn’t even kneel on purpose—”

You walk up to him.

Cup his cheeks.

He’s still spiraling.

“…Was it weird? Was it bad? Was it too soon? Do you wanna break up with me and then date me again so I can do it right?”

You shake your head, smiling.

“Bucky.”

He stops.

You lean in, press your forehead to his.

Then you sign, clear as day:

YES.

He freezes.

“Wait. Yes what?”

You say it out loud this time. Soft. Steady.

“Yes. I’ll be your wife.”

His breath leaves him like someone knocked it out with a hug.

“…Even though I proposed by accident?”

You kiss his nose.

“Especially because of that.”

Bucky buys a ring the very next day.

He still does the ASL sign for “I love you” every time you leave the room. You never get used to it.

And one day, he signs perfectly:

YOU — ARE — MY — SAFE — PLACE.

You tear up.

And then, just to mess with him, you sign back:

MAKE — ME — YOUR — HUSBAND.

He drops his drink.

You both laugh so hard you forget the world.

(You've got mail!) well well well..WELL WELL WELLLLLLLL. this has been fermenting in my drafts so uh hereee. its very fluffy and cute and so much grandpa barnes code. i whole heartily believe hes such a cutie like you can not convince me otherwise. stream txt love language tho! i rmbered i had this while i was kinda making a txt series avengers masterlist so uhhhh yeah! ALSO I HAD NO CLUE THAT HUENING KAI WAS TRYNA LEARN MY YOU-OLOGY IM BLUSHINGGG

Tag List (For Mr. James Buchanan Barnes is open)

@bbsbrina @herejustforbuckybarnes @barnesandbouquets

#w.riting ‹𝟹 ‎scripts #bucky x reader #i need him so bad #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes #james barnes x reader #bucky x you #hes a cutie #hes trying his best

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thatsveryvortex · 7 months ago

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Writing Tools for Planning Your Story

I've tried tons of writing apps and sites, so you don't have to. Here's a list of free sites to plot out your novel, with my review and some images of how I use it.

Milanote

Milanote is like having a giant pinboard with folders. You can upload anything onto it [yes even your main doc] and then draw over it or connect things with lines and arrows

Milanote lets you add up to a hundred things for free, not including drawing. This is one of the downsides of the site as I've found myself reaching that limit recently.

For me, the best part is being able to draw over stuff, and the color swatches.

Milanote is a lot less structured than other sites I've used, and personally, I don't think their templates are worth using.

8/10 overall, Milanote is what I mainly use. Here are some pics of how I use it:

Miro

Miro is a flowchart website mainly used for corporate jobs, however, it can be a great plotting tool for that reason

Miro has a lot of great starter templates if you are looking for a more structured freeform experience. It also comes with a blank page as well.

Unfortunately, I'd argue that it's a bit of a hard tool for beginners to use without a template, I've learned copy-paste is my best friend with Miro the hard way.

It's much better than most platforms at making timelines though.

It has a limit of three boards which is a bit disappointing but overall, I think it's worth the try.

5/10 Miro is very middle of the road for me due to the limited ability to customize things and the free limit. Here are some pics:

[I wrote that part weeks ago, I am now fully using Miro and believe it's the best for making timelines and charts, I just wish it let me make more boards 8/10]

Hiveword

This might be someone's jam, I can't really say it's mine though.

First off, the unpaid version is really just a few boxes saying "Write a summary here." which makes it just not worth it in my opinion

There really isn't any way to customise things which is my favorite part of most of these softwares

I've barely used this, so maybe there's something I'm missing but

1/10, Just use Google Docs at this point, here's a couple pics

World Anvil

People like this software, it's mainly used for tabletop, which is just a different way of writing adventure, and I've seen it recommended by authors.

Unfortunately, I'm going to disagree with a lot of people and say it's hard to use and isn't even really good at plotting.

I may be biased on this one as every time I've tried to use it in the past I've struggled. However, it seems like another just write it in a document and create a folder.

I'd say it's closer to an organizing tool, but even then just use something else.

3/10, I have nothing to say about it but maybe you'll enjoy it, all here are two photos

Campfire

This is the one I think I've heard the most about, but have never actually tried.

right off the bat, I'm going to say this is 100% worth it, you'll see at the end with the photos but this is like if Miro and World Anvil had an organization baby.

It's extremely easy to understand, and it makes timelines, it's more for writing your whole book but idk about that yet.

7/10, its themes are really pretty but it limits how much you can do to 20 I believe. Here are the photos

That's all for now, honestly, I think you should use Miro if you are looking to plot things out, and Milanote if you want to collect and organize your thoughts for writing, as that's what I do. Obviously what I like won't be for everyone, but hopefully, this helped you see some options

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #creative writing #worldbuilding #plotting #writing advice #writing tool #writing #writers #writing plans

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sunrizef1 · 1 year ago

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Lost in Japan

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

Warnings: None, cursing

Authors Note: I was almost done with a max fic and this song overtook my mind until I finished this. Also trust, I will be using bear as a nickname for Oscar in every fic from now on.

Summary: Lost in Japan by Shawn Mendes

Word Count: 5.1k (this was supposed to be short)

Oscar was bored. Lando was off celebrating a successful weekend somewhere out in the city of Shanghai while Oscar was sat alone in his hotel room waiting for the flight McLaren has organized to get him back to England. He hadn’t won. He hadn’t even gotten a podium. So there wasn’t much for him to be exactly thrilled about. So instead, he was just scrolling through his phone, checking various social media apps before he finally landed on Instagram.

He clicked on the first Instagram story at the top of his page, which happened to be Lando’s. He ignored the pictures of him celebrating at some party, tapping through the various shots of him getting more and more inebriated. He was with Max and Charles at the party so Oscar wasn’t too concerned. He clicks through a few more people stories before landing on a specific one that makes him slow down.

Oscar stares at his phone screen, eyes glazing over your Instagram story. He’s clicking through passively, pausing as he gets to one of you at dinner the night before. He lets it play out but quickly clicks back when he notices the Tokyo, Japan tag that you’ve placed near the top of the screen.

As Oscar stares at the picture, trying to take in every detail, he’s struck by an idea. He clicks out of the app, opens up his messages and navigates to your contact, already standing up from his hotel room bed to grab his already packed suitcase.

It didn’t look like he’d be using that plane ticket back to England after all. He clicks the call button under your name, holding the phone between his shoulder and his cheek as he grabs his things, exiting the room after he slides his backpack on.

The phone rings for a bit too long, making Oscar slightly worried that you wouldn’t pick up but it does eventually connect and Oscar is met with the sound of your voice filtering through the phone speaker. The door shuts with a soft click behind the Aussie as he steps into the hallway.

“Hello, Oscar,” you hum through the phone. Oscar can practically hear the smirk on your lips even through the low quality iPhone speaker.

Oscar huffs a laugh at your tone, dragging his suitcase behind him as he walks down the hall, “Hi, y/n.”

"What can I do for you?” you ask and Oscar can hear shuffling from your end of the call. As the words leave your lips, he reaches the elevator, tapping the button on the wall to call it to his floor.

“Do you have plans tonight?” Oscar reaches the point quickly, trapping the phone back between his shoulder and ear as the elevator opens and he steps in, tapping the lobby button.

You pause for a second, proccessing the question and contemplating your answer, “Besides falling asleep in a few hours? Nope.”

Oscar hums, pulling the phone into his hands and typing impatiently into google as you speak. He finds the soonest, and nicest, flight to Japan he could, purchasing the ticket without a second thought.

“Why?”

Oscar freezes for a moment, looking up from the ticket he'd just bought to narrow his eyes at the elevator door, “I saw you're in Japan-”

“Oh, so you're stalking me now?” Oscar rolls his eyes as you laugh through your question, painting the image of your grinning face in the Aussies mind.

“Shut up, no, anyway-,” Oscar sighs, dragging his suitcase out of the elevator as it reaches the lobby, “Im in Shanghai, I thought I'd fly over to see you.”

Your silence on the other end of the line is deafening. Oscar even checks to make sure the call is still connected due to how quiet you were. Taking your lack of response as a bad sign, Oscar starts to ramble, hoping to do a bit of damage control, “Just because I'm only a couple hundred miles away and the race is over and I'm bored. Its just been so long since we were so close, especially during the season and I miss y-”

“When does your flight leave?”

Oscar, who’d frozen on the sidewalk outside the hotel, unfreezes to gesture for a taxi. It was only a five-minute drive to the airport from the place Mclaren had been staying so he hoped this wouldn't take too long. He mutes for a moment to tell the driver to take him to the airport. The driver nods, pulling away from the curb.

“Uhhhh-” Oscar navigates through his phone to check his flight details as he sits back in his seat, “Half an hour?”

“Ooh, you better hurry then,” You hum, a playful tone laced through your words, “Dont want to miss it.”

Oscar laughs happily, just glad to hear you joking along. He does find some reality in your words though, doing the math to see if he even had enough time to make his flight. He was honestly running on hopes and prayers at this point.

“What made you suddenly so inclined to fly to Japan on a random Sunday?” Your voice pulls Oscar out of his thoughts and he pauses, smiling abashedly as the answer comes to his head.

“Just can't get you off my mind.”

Oscar can’t see you. But if he could, he'd see a warm smile carved onto your face due to the warmth his statement had caused.

“I don't know Osc, I'm actually pretty tired. Might just head to bed,” Oscar rolls his eyes as you try and stifle your giggle.

“Do I need to convince you to stay awake, then?”

You huff a laugh, humming in affirmation, “I’d love to hear it.”

“Well,” Oscar starts, racking his mind for some suggestions of what to say to get you to agree to this, “You don't miss me?”

“I never said that,” You reply quickly. Oscar raises an eyebrow, head falling back against the seat as he trys not to groan.

“So you do miss me?”

You hum quietly, the sound almost too low for Oscar to hear it through the phone, “Maybe a little bit.”

The Aussie chuckles, “I thought so.”

“Can you blame me? It's been a while. I miss my favourite koala bear,” Oscar gets the sense that the words were meant to come out teasing but he can't help but notice how genuine they sound. He laughs nonetheless.

He's about to respond when the cab comes to a sudden stop and he looks out the window to see the airport in front of him.

“Shit, I'm here.”

Oscar swings his backpack onto his shoulders, rifling through a pocket to find enough cash to hand to the driver, not really considering an exact amount and, instead, just asking the driver if that was enough. When the driver tries to hand change back, Oscar leans away, grasping the door handle to swing the door open to get out. He grabs his suitcase as well, leaning down to shout back into the car.

“Keep the change, thanks mate!” Oscar shuts the door, dragging his suitcase behind him as the cab drives away.

“Such a gentleman, I take it you're at the airport now?” you tease him, a genuine questioning tilt laced in your words.

Oscar nods before remembering you can't see him, “Yeah, just got out of the car.”

Oscar rushes through the large door, holding it open for an older woman to walk through before he steps in past her. He glances around the room, trying to find airport security so he could get to his gate.

“You gonna make your flight?” you seem to be finding a lot of amusement in his frantic rushing.

Oscar huffs, pinning his phone between his cheek and shoulder to check his watch. He still had about twenty-five minutes to get to his plane.

“Twenty minutes,” he responds, walking quickly down the hall when he spots a sign directing him that way.

“Ooh! Ah, I have faith in you. If you're anywhere near as fast as you are on the track I'm sure you'll be fine.”

Oscars eyes trail over the hall, locking onto the security gates and causing him to walk a little quicker, “You watch the race today?”

You don't respond for a few minutes but when you do, your voice is a lot more calm than it had been a few moments before, “Mhm. You did good Os.”

Oscar lets out a sigh, shaking his head as a grin fights its way into his lips, “Thanks, I'm glad you think so.”

Oscar steps into the security line, grateful for the fact that there are only a few people in front of him. He ignores the weird glance the old lady in front of him sends his way as he rushes to a stop behind her, replying with a tight smile.

“Its not just me, Osc,” you reply, sensing his disdain for the days race through the phone, “Everyone thinks you did well.”

Oscar hums, stepping up a few steps as a couple of people pass through, leaving just the old lady in front of him. As he reaches the bag scanners, he pins his phone on his shoulder again to lift his bag up onto the conveyor belt, tossing his bag down beside it.

“One second,” Oscar responds, muting his phone to drop it into a bowl along with his airpods, sending them through along with his bags.

After he's put all his things on the belt, he steps away, walking through the metal detector when the agent signals for him to go.

It takes a few moments for the agents to check his bags but when they come through he pulls the suitcase off and sets it beside him, turning back to slide his backpack over his shoulders. He slides his AirPods into his hoodie pocket and picks up his phone, unmuting the call before walking away, his suitcase in tow.

“Im back,” Oscar clicks away from the call for a few seconds to check his flight details before putting the phone back to his ear.

“Did I just get sent through a security scanner?” you sound amused and Oscar can practically see your smirk just from the tone of your voice.

“Didnt want to hang up,” he grumbles, searching the signs above him for his gate, walking quickly when he spots it. A clock on the wall indicates that he's still got 15 minutes to get to his flight. He thinks about it for a few moments, quickly realizing that it was 15 minutes until scheduled takeoff and boarding would actually end in five minutes.

“Im honored-”

“Fuck!” Oscar cuts you off, too busy now sprinting down the airport corridor to think about that fact, “Shit! I'm gonna miss it!”

You don't respond for a few seconds but you eventually do, a loud laugh echoing from your throat as you take in his situation.

“Oh my god, are you late for boarding? Osc!” you laugh, the image of the driver sprinting down the hall engrained in your head.

He doesn't reply, the phone now down near his hip as he runs to his gate. The run feels like an hour but, in reality, was only actually a few minutes, the clocks on the walls ticking down as if mocking the Aussies poor planning.

He finds some kind of respite, though, as he finally gets to the gate, slowing down as he steps up to the gate agent. The lady seems surprised to see him run up but she doesn't turn away, instead glancing him up and down with a concerned look before responding.

“Hi! Do you have your ticket?” the woman is surprisingly kind about the question, especially considering she had been preparing to leave as he'd rocked up.

Oscar nods, still trying to catch his breath. He pulls his phone open to navigate to the ticket, facing the QR code forward for the agent to scan. She does so before nodding politely and leading him down the path toward the plane.

Oscar lets out a sight of relief and lifts the phone back up to his face, “I made it.”

Your laugh has calmed down but you snort at his almost war-torn sounding voice, his strife obvious due to his lack of breath, “Congrats, man.”

He gets lead onto the plane, thanking the woman who'd brought him and smiling at the flight attendants as he walks a few steps past them. He finds his seat, dropping his phone onto it to lift his phone and stow it away in the overhead bin. He grabs his phone and sits down, relaxing into the seat after setting his backpack on the ground.

“I’ll be in Japan in a few hours,” He says, running hand over his face, “See you there, yeah?”

You hum, “See you there, bear.”

Oscar ignores the nickname, pretending it didn't make him smile, “Im gonna hang up now, promise you won't be asleep when I land?”

You laugh, “I promise, Oscar. I'll even go get a red bull for some extra energ-”

“Yeah, nope. Goodbye.” Oscar interrupts before you can endorse the rival team.

“Bye koala bear,” you respond and the phone clicks softly as you hang up. Oscar sets the phone down to pull his airpods out of his pocket, connecting them in order to watch some movie for the flight.

The flights only a few hours long but it feels a lot longer than that to Oscar. It's a haze of random Netflix shows and bagged pretzels, the monotony of the flight boring Oscar out of his mind.

He's relieved when the plane touches down, his proximity to the front of the plane allowing him to stand up and grab his things fairly quickly. Its about 9 pm local time, the sky outside not shedding any light through the plane windows.

Oscar walks out into the airport, grateful to be off the cramped plane and finally move his legs again. He stops at one of the few shops still open to buy an overpriced bottle of water, pausing as he spots a bag of those haribo peach rings you like so much. He doesn't think much as he grabs the bag, throwing it onto the counter beside his bottle and offering the cashier a polite smile.

After paying, he grabs the bottle and the bag, grasping them in the same hand as he pulls his suitcase along with the other one.

He strolls through the airport, trying to rid himself of the fatigue from the race and the plane ride. The only thing keeping him from falling asleep was the thought of seeing you again.

Speaking of you, Oscar doesn't realize he has no idea where you were staying or where you were until he's stepped out of the airport doors, standing on the sidewalk with his suitcase sat next to him. He tries to recall if you'd told him anything about your Japan trip or even if he'd seen anything on your story but he comes up empty.

He clicks on your contact, pressing the phone to his ear as the call rings. He frowns as you decline, confused as to why you'd hang up.

He's just about to walk back inside to wait when a car horn honks, causing Oscar to look up in front of him.

His eyes widen as they lock onto an orange Mclaren 570s Coupe, the car shining beautifully under the street lights. As he stands and admires the car ahead of him, the window closest to him rolls down and he sees your head duck down to lock eyes with him.

“You getting in?”

He laughs incredulously, opening the passenger side door and carefully sliding his suitcase into the small storage space behind the seats.

He sets his backpack on the floor below him, flopping back into the sear and sliding his seatbelt on. He sets his water down and tosses the bag of peach rings into your lap, “Nice car.”

“Thanks,” you reply brightly, eyes widening as you observe the bag of candy before moving it into your hoodie pocket, “Thought id go all out with the rental for the few days I'm here.”

Oscar hums, glancing around the nice car, coincidentally a Papaya McLaren. He refused the urge to ask you if you'd been thinking of him when you'd picked the vehicle.

After you make sure his seatbelts on, you pull away from the airport terminal and navigate onto the main road, pressing play on your playlist to let music filter quietly through the speakers.

The car glides smoothly down the streets of Tokyo, bright lights reflecting off the sides of your face. Oscar looks your way, completely aware that your attention was locked on the road, giving him the free pass to admire you.

Your eyes dart around the road in front of you, neon lights reflected in your irises. Your teeth dig at your lower lip, chewing lightly as turn the car. You’ve got one hand on the wheel, the other one moving around between the center console and the fraying edge of your shorts. You're wearing a quadrant hoodie and Oscar can't tell if its his or if you both just owned the same hoodie. The fit didn't help, he knew you bought your hoodies oversized anyway.

You glance over as you come to a stop at a red light, grinning when you see his eyes on you.

“What?” You ask, laughing slightly as you lean back from the wheel, splitting your attention between the road and Oscars face.

Oscar shakes his head with a small smile, his own attention turning out the window as you drive through the green light.

“Have you eaten?”

Oscar shakes his head, “Nah.”

You nod, taking the next turn to pull into a parking lot, stopping the car after you find a spot. You step out and Oscar takes this as his cue to get out as well, shutting the car door gently behind him.

When Oscar gets around the car, he finds you leaning against the edge, your feet crossed as you wait for him. He steps to your side and you push off the car, the familiar beep of it locking ringing out as you walk away.

As you both walk toward the restaurant, you step into Oscar's side and he’s quick to swing an arm over your shoulder. You wrap an arm around his torso, reaching the other up to tangle your fingers with his.

He's only slightly disappointed when you have to drop his hand in order to open the door. But you keep your hand against his ribs and he keeps his arm around your shoulders, not ready to let you go yet.

The second his feet pass the threshold of the building, he's hit with some of the most delicious scents he'd smelled in his life. This late at night there isn't much action apart from a few stragglers who Oscar assumes had just gotten off work and needed a bite to eat.

An older man swings around the corner from the kitchen, faint food stains gracing his otherwise white apron. He has a huge grin on his face and it only increases when he sees you. He pushes his glasses up on his nose, wiping off the steam that had accumulated on the lenses.

“Ah! You're back again!” The man calls out to the pair of you. Although his words do make Oscar assume the man was mostly talking to you, “And you brought your boyfriend!”

You don't correct the man and after seeing the grin on your face, Oscar doesn't either.

“Yeah, he just got in from Shanghai. Haven't had dinner yet.”

“Go, go,” the man smiles, pointing toward the dining room, “Sit where you want, ill get to you in a second.”

The man waves you both toward the tables and you step out of Oscar’s grasp. He doesn't have to be disappointed for long as you wrap your hand in his to lead him through the restaurant, stopping at a booth before sliding in. Oscar slides in the seat opposite of you, his legs knocking against yours under the table.

Quickly, the man, who Oscar now assumes is the owner, comes over to the table, setting down two glasses of water and a pair of menus in front of the both of you.

“You know what you want?” The man grins as he gestures toward you, seemingly familiar to you. Oscar takes a sip of his water, letting the coop liquid run down his throat.

You nod happily, “Yeah, I think so.”

The man pulls out a small notebook to write down whatever you say and you continue by saying a few different dishes, the only one Oscar having had before being sushi. He doesn't say anything, knowing that you knew more about this place and the menu than he did.

After you're done ordering, the man walks away and strolls into the kitchen, handing the order to the woman behind the counter before placing a small kiss on her cheek.

Oscar looks back to you, a small smile on his face after seeing the couple who seemed to be running the restaurant themselves, “You’ve been here before, then?”

You nod, leaning over to take a sip from your glass, “Yeah, came here yesterday for lunch.”

Oscar hums, glancing out of the booth to look around the room. Paintings and neon signs decorate the walls and what seems to be photographs taken in the restaurant all line the wall by the entrance. Oscar can vaguely see that the photos of are different people posing, all with happy looks on their faces. He huffs a breathy laugh when he sees one of you with your friends.

The time spent waiting for your food is filled with casual conversation, Oscar asking a lot of questions about how your Tokyo trip had been so far.

You don't ask about the race. There's some kind of unspoken understanding that Oscar had run to Japan to get away from racing for once. Here, with you, Oscar wasn't Mclaren racing driver, Oscar Piastri, he was just Oscar. Or “Bear”, as you called him. A nickname that you seemed unable to let go of. Oscar pretended to be annoyed every time you said it but he couldn't deny the smile that formed every time he heard the Australia-themed moniker.

“Bear?” There it is. Oscar looks up with a raised eyebrow, deducing that you'd asked a question he hadn't answered.

“I asked if you're staying with me tonight.”

Oscar snorts before smirking, shaking his head as he locks eyes with you, “Yeah, wouldn't dream of being anywhere else.”

You blush, looking down toward the table, past meals having left vague food stains on the wood.

Before you can respond, the man returns, plates and bowls balancing in his hands. You look up politely, smiling as the man starts to place the food on the table, “Thank you so much.”

The man grins as he places down the last plate, “Of course. Enjoy.”

He walks away and you turn toward Oscar who stares vaguely at the food in front of him, “Dig in.”

You make a move for your chopsticks, looking over the food before taking a bite of whatever is immediately in front of you. Oscar glances around, not sure where to start.

Noticing his hesitancy, you pick up a piece of what you'd been eating and bring it up toward his lips, pulling back after Oscar bites into it.

“What is this?” Oscar asks as he chews, covering his mouth as he speaks. Whatever it is, it's pretty good, having a light and slightly sweet flavour. Its also a bit more rubbery than chicken, but its pretty good nonetheless.

You swallow your own bite, having scooped up some rice along with it, “Unagi. Grilled eel.”

The only indication of Oscar's surprise is his widened eyes but after a few seconds, he reaches over to take another bite, humming as he chews on the eel. You smile, moving on to grab some kind of skewer.

You slowly move through the foods, explaining each one to Oscar as he tries them.

They're all good but Oscar's favourite is the yakitori, the skewers of grilled chicken. By the time you've finished the food on the table, Oscar is about ready to pass out.

So you pay as soon as you can, Oscar grumbling about his inability to pay for the meal, lacking the proper currency. He does Venmo you when you put your phone down, though.

The owner makes playful conversation with you, thanking you for coming around and telling you you're welcome back anytime. Oscar just stands with his head on top of yours, trying not to fall asleep.

You're about to leave when the man calls you back and you turn around to see him holding a camera in his hands, “For the wall? Need to remember the happy couple.”

You laugh, glancing around to see the many many photos of various friend groups on the wall behind you, turning back around with a soft look as you nod. You lean into Oscar who wraps an arm around you, tilting his head toward you. You tangle your hand with the one on your shoulder, holding up a peace sign with your other one.

The familiar click of a camera sounds and the man smiles warmly, waving you both out the door, “Have a great time! Thank you for coming!”

You wave goodbye, stepping out of the restaurant and pulling out your keys to unlock the car. Oscar untangles from you to walk to the passenger's side and step in. You drop in as well, setting your phone down in the centre console. Oscar is staring out the window when he feels something drop in his lap and he glances down to see the bag of peach rings he'd bought you.

“Can you open that?” You ask, starting the car and putting it in reverse. You glance over your shoulder as you pull backward, one arm behind Oscars seat and the other on the wheel.

Oscar, at risk of getting caught staring, turns his attention to the candy, ripping the edge and grabbing a few pieces to throw in his mouth.

Once you've got onto the main road, you hold out a hand and Oscar drops a couple pieces which you proceed to eat.

The drive is quiet, the both of you feeling the exhaustion of the day catch up to you. You eventually pull up to the hotel, stopping the car and stepping out. Not before grabbing more candy from Oscar, though.

Oscar leans over to grab his suitcase, stepping out of the car and sliding his backpack on. He grabs his water bottle from the airport, stuffing it into the bottle compartment on the side of the bag. He looks up and starts walking, stepping by your side as you enter the hotel. You stroll through the lobby, leading both of you to the elevator.

As the elevator starts moving up, you both lean against the wall, letting the quiet music be the only sound beside a couple yawns.

The elevator dings as it passes each floor. Oscar watches as you dig your key card out of your pocket, running your fingers along the edge absently.

The doors slide open, leading you to walk out, Oscar in tow. You drift down the hall, humming along to whatever song was playing in your head. Oscar vaguely recognizes it as Taylor Swift.

When you reach your room, you scan your card and push the door open, holding it to let Oscar pass through.

He does, pushing his suitcase next to the far side of the bed. He can hear you setting your things down, the familiar clink of keys on glass ringing out in the otherwise quiet room.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom,” he says lowly, sliding past you and into the attached bathroom. He can hear you hum in affirmation just before he shuts the door.

When he emerges, you're sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling off your shoes before tossing them on the floor. You’ve taken off your hoodie (or Oscars) and its not lain over the chair across the room.

You glance up, smiling as you see the Aussie walk out, “Hi.”

Oscar huffs amusedly, sliding off his own shoes as he walks toward you, “Hi.”

You hum, looking up as he walks closer to you before leaning slightly to angle his face toward yours. You both pause for a few moments, waiting to see who'd break the stand-off first.

It ends up being you, as you pull his face down towards yours, your kiss almost searing. The kiss feels like it lasts a lifetime and Oscar almost wishes it could. He does pull away, though, just to move you away from the edge of the bed, smiling when he hears your laugh ring out after he's practically tossed you onto the mattress.

He moves up as well and before he can even get his bearings, you're pulling him back down again, hands in his hair and your lips on his.

The next morning, Oscars awoken by the sound of your quiet laugh. He rolls over with a tired groan, wrapping his other arm around your torso.

“What are you laughing at?” he grumbles, tiredness clear in his voice.

You turn to face him, looking impossibly beautiful for having just woken up. You hold your phone toward him and Oscar glances down at the screen before looking back up at your face with a questioning glance.

“Lando sent me a video this morning,” you start, closing your phone and tossing it aside to grasp his tired face between your hands, “Its quite funny.”

“What was it?” Oscar mumbles, leaning to press a small kiss on your forehead.

You lean back, looking him in the eyes and seemingly trying to hide your smirk, “It's a video of his teammate sprinting through the Shanghai airport.”

Oscar groans, trying to ignore your warm laugh, “Fuck.”

He's not really mad, not when the video was the source of your happiness right now.

There were a lot worse sights to wake up to than your happy face beside him.

——————————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #oscar piastri x fem!reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fanfiction

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liquidcrystalsky · 3 months ago

Text

hey you, make your own website.

sure you can use neocities or carrd or strawpage or whatever whatever but also. make your own from scratch!

there's plenty of free website hosters, github(owned by microsoft), gitlab, and cloudflare have "pages" services which are all free and you can just host whatever html pages even use things like static site generators as well to help yourself from copying and pasting.

if you have your own domains you can also use those, and other than digging deep into web requests or stupid shit there's no way to know you're not hosting it yourself.

i use cloudflare pages, but github/gitlab pages is probably much easier, and if you dont like it, you can just pick it up and move it somewhere else. if you have a custom domain as well you dont even have to tell people "move to the new website". you're not tied down to any service and the site is what you have

It's very flexible too! for beginners you can just put raw html and css and upload it and it'll show, if you need more than this, you can just add more.

my website, ranid.space, also uses cloudflare pages (it can be easily done on the other two), and it's generated using Astro with templates i've created, it has a [shitty] blog Content Management System with an Atom feed, there's pages with javascript, and i even have SEO optimizations (i was really bored okay i really dont care if i show up on google).

it is as simple or as complex as you want it to be.

it is literally JUST hosting your own website you have full and entire control over. note it's a static website so you cant really do things like live updates without connecting it to another server, however for posting to a blog once in a while it's perfectly fine

i've not used gitlab pages, it seems to be a bit more manual setup than github pages, but i think beyond that first setup it's the same

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highway-143 · 1 month ago

Text

webbed- nishimura riki

genre: fluff, smut, strangers to lovers, spider man au

pairing: black spiderman!riki x fem!reader

taglist: @urlocalmultigroupfan @minkilicious @vrusha01 @planetmarlowe @mrsjjongstby @drnkdz @strawberrynull @interfated @tasnemluvs @woniesbae @rikifordmiami @nishikio

word count: 9.2k

now playing: sunflower- post malone and swae lee (lol kinda a duh) & damn- fujii kaze

tw: blood, guns, sex, bdsm undertones, needles, mentions of rape, death

(mostly proofread but idc atp bro. just live with the typos ToT)

all scenarios are fake and are not meant to represent any idol in the story

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ₊

economics homework sucks.

but that's a given, isn't it?

who in the world actually enjoyed comparing the tax rates of 10 different countries and writing a 20,000 word essay about them for the final?

you certianly didn't.

and yet here you were, seated at the desk in your room. its surface was littered with borrowed library books, notes, and your computer. the screen was open to a google doc, two pages already filled out.

you check the word count.

1,009 words

shit.

you prop your elbows on the desk, your head in your hands.

who the fuck thought this class would be required for a marketing degree?

you hear rain start to patter on the window of your dorm. the sprinkles collecting on the pane, blurring the lights coming from the city.

you lived for tokyo at night.

the way the lights from apartments lit up the darkness like stars when the real stars were covered in the haze of a storm.

the way the neon lights from shops lining the street. it felt so beautiful. how the city came alive when the rest of the world was quiet.

that's when you hear it.

skrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeee

tires. on pavement.

you jump up from your chair and onto the miniscule balcony that connected to your dorm. it was hard to make out from the fourth story, but you saw an suv swerving through the road. it's tail spun out of control on the slick ground, almost crashing into patrons walking out of akasaka, the hostess bar across the street.

people screamed, the sounds of fear echoing off the tall buildings around the chaos.

you screamed too.

because a black figure swooped right in front of you, and you jumped so hard, you almost fell over.

spiderman

you watch as the shadowlike hero makes his way closer and closer to the suv.

the car skids to a stop as a flying web sticks to it, the other end already attatched to a rung on the side of your building. the tires helplessly turn against the pavement, but to no avail.

"going somewhere?" asks the deep voice, what you assumed was spiderman.

you couldn't see him though.

he dissapeared.

your eyes scour the scene, trying to find the source. all you see are two japanese men, both heavily muscled and in their late thirties.

and then another, exiting from the cab of the van.

he was pale, paler than you had ever seen. an albino, white hair styled meticulously with a ocean blue streak through the slicked back strands. his eyes were covered in sunglasses, even at night. his frame was long, thin, and looked somewhat malnourished. he wore a white trench coat over a white tutleneck and ivory pants.

he looked like a ghost.

"spiderman" he says, a thick french accent in his speech. "didn't expect to meet you tonight." his voice is cold, a piercing ice. "why don't you show yourself, hmm?"

"i think i'll stay where i am, thanks" says spiderman, his voice coming from somewhere below and to the right of where you stood on the balcony. "the real question, is why are you here, givré? what business do you have in japan?"

the albino, givré, chuckles. there's no warmth behind the laughter though. "why on earth would i tell you?"

"okay, don't then." you watch as a web shoots out from a balcony below you, attaching itself to givré's mouth, sending him stumbling backward into the side of the car.

the two mercenaries aim guns at the balcony. you hadn't even realized that they had them. the taller of the two fires, and you clap your hand over your mouth.

but nothing.

the balcony is empty.

you know you should go back inside. hide. not get killed.

but you can't stop watching.

because when the men turn around to help givré, spiderman is already standing behind them.

givré is struggling against the web on his mouth, trying to pry it off with his fingers. spiderman stands next to him, arms crossed. "you really thought that would work?" he asks, amused.

the street is almost completely cleared of bystanders now, only a few dumb tourists on the sidewalk with phones recording the scene. idiots.

the shorter man charges, almost like a rhino, and grabs spiderman by the waist, tackling him to the ground. the hero flips around and hooks a leg around the man's shoulder. "god, i didn't think i would be getting freaky today-" he says as his groin is pushed into the struggling face of the gaurd.

you can't help but laugh as spiderman kicks out of confinement.

and then you scream.

because another gunshot rang through the street.

givré stood, yards away from the fight, a gun pointed at spiderman, his mouth freed.

he laughs. "thought you could get away? nice try, bastard."

spiderman coughs, bringing a hand to his shoulder, dark red already covering the material of his suit. "fuck-" he murmurs. "come on, givré, you gotta try harder than that" and he lets go of his shoulder to shoot two webs, one at givré's gun, the other at the second mercenary, the sticky threads wrapping around his body.

he watches as the flashing lights of police cars pull up and cops jump out, running over to givré.

and he looks up, shoots a web, and swings away into the darkness.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ₊

you go back inside, shell-shocked and wet from the rain. who the fuck was givré? and what did he want from spiderman?

you stare at the balcony from your desk chair, watching the rain trickle down the glass of the door.

thud

another scream from your mouth.

spiderman. on your balcony, the eyes of his mask locked onto your surprised ones. the water on the glass blurs his features, but you can still make out the maroon blood dripping from his shoulder.

he looks at you, waving as he stands on the balcony, pointing to the handle of the door, then to his shoulder.

he needs to come in.

you nod shakily, and he slides the door open, with his good arm, stepping inside your pristine room.

"thank you," he says, nodding. "can i use your bathroom? and first aid kit?"

your eyes are wide as you get a better view of his injuries. the bullet grazed the top of his shoulder, tearing the fabric and his skin. an inch wide gash was visible even through the blood.

"y-yes. just in there," you point to the bathroom door. "first aid kit is under the sink"

he walks across the room, blood dripping onto the hardwood floor, a trail making its way to the bathroom along with the tall hero.

you want to give him privacy, but he leaves the door open.

that was the first mistake.

because you glance into the cramped room after a few minutes, and you don't want to look away.

who knew spiderman could be this attractive?

all you could see was his back, but god, his back.

he wasn't ripped like givré's bodygaurds, but his muscles rippled, shoulderblades jutting out as he cleaned blood off his arm with a wet tissue. his chest dipped to his waist in the most prominent v shape you had ever seen. the top half of his suit hung low around his hips, dangerously low, the rim of his boxers peeking out.

teasing.

taunting.

his jet black hair was messy, a few unruly strands sticking up out of his bangs. you could see sweat beading on the back of his neck and the short hair of his undercut.

without thinking, you walk up behind him, and turn the bathroom fan on.

he doesn't turn to look at you, but his voice is gravely as he thanks you.

a shiver runs up your spine. you force yourself to pull away and go back to your desk, trying to focus on your essay while fucking spiderman clattered around your bathroom.

"hey... uh..." you hear him mumble a few feet away. "can you... uh... come help me?"

you hesitate, only a second, before you stand up on shaking legs. he stood in the doorway of the bathroom, holding an alcohol swab packet out to you.

you take it, and look up into his eyes.

mistake number two.

he was fucking gorgeous. his brown- almost black- eyes looked like they were staring into your soul. his bangs hooded over them a little bit, the tips brushing his eyelashes. he had high cheekbones and a strong jaw, with perfect, full lips that looked delicious.

"just... the back of my shoulder. i can't reach it." he turns around, and you stand on tiptoe to see the wound.

"you're gonna need stitches," you say, transfixed by the deep gash that looked a little less bloody now. you could see the line from where he had cleaned most of the blood off and where some remained.

"yeah, i do that all the time"

"you stitch yourself up!?" you stare at him through the mirror.

he hisses when the swab grazes the injury. "fuck," he whispers under his breath. "yeah, i do. no big deal at this point. happens more than you think."

you take a closer look at his body, faint scars on his sides and more littering his arms. at least seven of them. the pink lines were barely noticable in the dim lighting.

"wow..." you say, not really knowing what the proper response would be.

you clean his shoulder in silence, his faint grunts when you press too hard the only sound in your dorm.

"there, done." you say, tossing the bloodied piece of cloth into the trash can. "do you... want me to help with the stitches too?" another chill goes right down your back, nervousness mixed with a hint of curiosity.

"you know how?"

"yeah, it's pretty straightforward."

he looks at you, his expression amused and something else, and he rummages around the kit, pulling out a needle and the thread, handing them to you.

you walk out of the bathroom, and he follows you to your desk chair. you sit on the cushioned seat, motioning for him to sit between your legs, his back to you so you could reach the wound.

you start threading the needle, and can't help but ask the insanely handsome stranger questions.

i mean, who wouldn't.

"who are you?"

"that's classified" you can feel the smirk in his voice.

"okay, have fun stitching yourself up then" you say, half joking.

he laughs, then flinches, his shoulder muscles flexing from the flash of pain. "kidding, kidding. riki. my name's riki. happy now?"

you nod, satisfied. "why did you come here? how did you know i would help?"

"i saw you on the balcony, almost died when i swung by you, yeah? and i heard your scream when the gun fired. thought you'd be on my side."

"yeah, i guess you're right." you slowly poke the needle through his skin, pushing it all the way through and starting the stitches. "what does givré want with you?"

"i don't fully know yet. he's the most obscure person i've dealt with. no criminal record, no run-ins with the law ever. i don't even know if he's a legal person."

"what does that mean?"

"means i haven't found any records of him. no social security number. no school records, no tax files, no id, nothing. he's either an alien, or never been registered anywhere."

"i'm betting on alien" you say, making riki laugh.

"that would explain the blue streak." he says. "shit, i forgot. what's your name?"

"y/n."

"y/n... pretty. so, how do i know you aren't going to spill my identity to the whole city?"

"why the fuck would i do that? i do want you to stop criminals, you know. the police don't particularly love you because you do a way better job than them. they could arrest you easy. i would have to be insane to tell people. anyone would be."

he nods, satisfied, but still on gaurd. "yeah... swear you'll stay quiet though. believe me, if you tell, i can find you no matter what. i don't care if you flee the country to live in zimbabwe."

your spine stiffens, fear pumping through your veins. riki looks at you over his shoulder, and you stop using the needle.

"i'm not fucking kidding. if this gets out i can always sic givré on you."

"i swear. and i don't think he would listen to you if you tried."

riki turns back around, and you sew the last few stitches on his shoulder, cutting the thread with a pair of scissors.

you tap his side with your foot, having him stand up so you can throw away the used needle and thread. you grab a thick band aid and hand it to him. "put this over the stitches."

"thanks."

but neither of you moves.

he just stands there, staring at you, eyes stuck on yours.

and then they trail down your body, taking in your silk pajamas, a button up shirt and shorts, both black with pink trim. running over your bare arms and legs, the skin covered in goosebumps. he clears his throat when he sees your breasts, nipples peaking through the thin fabric.

he looks away.

but you don't want him to.

you move out of the way, walking over to the kitchenette and grabbing the clorox wipes.

riki takes them from your hand when you turn around.

"i'll do it. it's my blood."

you nod, cheeks red from the simplest thing. he crouches down and starts to wipe up the drops of blood scattered on your floor.

you sit back on the chair, turning to mark your page in the open books and close them up. you stack them under your computer, making sure to save the document. you were too exhausted to work anymore, the night was too fucked up to focus.

riki looks up at you when you spin in the chair, turning to watch him. his muscles flexed, his abs clenching.

he was doing it on purpose.

fucking asshole.

your thighs squeeze together. you hadn't meant for them to. they just did. how could they not, when riki looked up at you like that, his suit pulled off his chest, his collarbones prominent and the lines of his neck so... there

he noticed your thighs. he noticed the way your pupils dilated and your eyelids drooped ever so slightly. he knew what he was doing.

he wasn't new to seduction.

and neither were you.

you lean forward, fingers reaching out to trace his bicep, the muscle twitching under your soft touch.

"fuck, y/n..."

"what?" you say, batting your eyes innocently.

"you fucking know what you're doing."

"and you're pretending you aren't doing the same thing?"

"shit-" he stands up, towering over you as you sat in the chair. "can't fucking do that to me."

"why not?"

that got him.

riki stands in silence, just watching you rise from the chair, reaching up to whisper in his ear.

"please"

that's all it takes. riki's hands drop the container of wipes, wrapping around your waist and pulling your chest flush against his. he leans down, taking your lips in a searing kiss.

you moan into his mouth, pushing into him. his tounge slips between your lips, swiping along the corner of your mouth, tasting every inch of you before you let him in all the way.

your hands rub his chest, nails teasing his abs, thumbs brushing over his nipples. you feel him shiver as you pinch them, his mouth pausing as he revels in the feeling.

but the break is brief.

he picks up the pace, slowly stepping backwards and pulling you with him as the back of his legs hit your bed.

"fuck," he says, turning around and pushing you onto the mattress. "can i..."

"yes." you breathe, needing- craving- more of his touch.

he hooks his fingers under your shorts, pulling them down your legs, revealing a pair of laced pastel pink panties.

he moans at the sight, your legs spreading to reveal the gathering slickness on the fabric.

"fucking wet... god-"

he leans down and presses a kiss to your covered clit, earning a whine from you. every touch was fire, his fingers brushing over your thighs, caressing your hot skin.

his teeth find the waist of your panties, pulling them down your legs with an expert skill. cool air hits your cunt, the whisper of riki's breath already making it clench around nothing.

"so pretty..." he groans, holding your thighs down with his hand as his tounge licks your clit, just grazing the sensitive bundle of nerves. you whimper, hips bucking slightly into his face.

he laughs, tounge licking up your slit, circling your tender clit. his teeth nip at it, giving a gentle tug.

you let a real moan escape your throat, hand threading into riki's hair, pushing him into your pussy.

he happily thrusts his tounge into your clenching hole, nose circling your clit as he flicks inside you, fingers trailing up your legs to spread your lips further apart.

his eyes look up at you, your head thrown back, arms shaking, one hand on your breast, teasing the supple mound through your pajama shirt. he groans into your cunt, tounge thrusting faster, pulling you closer and closer to orgasm.

and you came.

riki clamps his mouth onto you, sucking your slickness into his mouth, drinking you as your hips jerked and your head lolled to the side, hands grasping the comforter in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.

riki let go of your legs, climbing up over you to kiss you again, lips locking onto yours. his chin was damp with you, but he couldn't care less.

he just kissed you.

when his hands went to pull his suit off, you moved to kiss his jaw, then below his ear.

you nipped at his earlobe, teeth feeling the empty piercing he had, and he moans, chest heaving as he grinded his now freed dick onto your cunt.

his hardened shaft slipped between your folds, teasing your already overstimulated pussy. every sound that left your sore throat was caught in his mouth, his lips moving against yours as his cock pushed into your clenching hole.

the stretch was impossible, his thick length filling you up, your cunt clenching around him.

your hips roll against his, and his hands bring your knees to your chest so he could thrust deeper into you.

his teeth bite your lip when he starts picking up the pace, dick drilling into your sensitive cunt.

you whimper, "fuck, fuck, fuck.... shit-" you feel your orgasm approaching again, and riki notices.

"cum for me baby, come on.... let go... please, please"

you snap, legs shaking and hips jerking as you cum on his cock that was still pumping into you as you spasmed. when riki feels his orgasm coming too, he pulls out of your cunt and releases on your stomach, hot, thick ropes of white cum painting your equally hot and sweaty skin.

"riki.... shit, you feel so good"

"so do you, baby, so tight."

he stands from the bed and grabs your panties, wiping your cunt with them as your fingers gather his cum and shove it into his mouth. he tasted salty, warm and sticky. he groans at the sight of you eating his cum, lips wrapped around your finger.

he pulls his boxers on, stepping back into his suit and pulling it over his arms, pressing a plate on the silver spider that tightened it around his body.

"you're leaving?" you say, tired and spent on your wet sheets.

"i'll be back," he smirks, pulling the mask over his head and tightening it. "see you later, y/n"

he opens the door to the balcony, waves, and shoots a web into the night sky.

he left you in the bed, legs still shaking and cunt clenching from two amazing orgasms.

and he took your panties too.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ₊

three days.

three whole fucking days.

you finished the essay and started a new one for your business class in those three days.

you read two books cover to cover in those three days, but couldn't answer a single question about them.

every noise made you jump, thinking it was riki. whenever you got a knock at your door you thought it was riki.

everything reminded you of riki.

your silk pajamas, the clorox wipes, your bed, the fucking floor.

how much longer was this going to go on?

it was 10pm on a saturday. you should be going out with friends, you should go out on a date you promised the boy from your graphic design class.

but you couldn't.

you just sat at your desk, staring at the page of paper that should have been filled with notes but was instead covered in little hearts and doodles of riki.

you traced the hem of your shorts, remembering riki's touch on your bare skin, his fingers ghosting over your thighs.

you glance out the window for the millionth time, hoping to see riki, but not really expecting to.

and you jump.

because he's there, grinning and leaning against the railing of your balcony, mask pulled off and hanging from his finger, hair wet from the heavy rain that had refused to let up since the last night you saw him.

you run to the door, sliding it open and stepping onto the balcony.

and you slap riki on the cheek.

hard.

"where the fuck were you?! you said you'd be back, little shit!"

riki's smirk fades quickly, a dark look gathering in his eyes the longer he looks at you.

"sorry, i was busy saving the damn city. did you stop to think i might have been a little tied up?"

"you could have let me know. i fucking waited for you, riki."

his fingers reach up to his cheek, tracing the blooming red mark from your blow.

and then he grips your wrist, shoving you back into your dorm.

you squeak, tripping over your feet as riki pushes you into the wall on the other side of your room, pinning you between his arms.

"you fucking slapped me." his voice is a growl now.

you manage to nod your head, but it was hard with riki's face only inches from yours. you could feel his breath on your face, uneven and angry.

"i came to talk to you-" he says, hands running harshly down your shoulders and to your breasts, squeezing them in his palms. "and you slap me. for your information-" he manhandles your waist now, turning you around and pushing you towards the bed. "givré escaped and i was trying to find the little shit. went all the fucking way to australia, still couldn't find him."

you whimper when he bends you over the bed, shoving your face into the comforter and grabbing your ass from behind.

"let me use you" he whispers into the dim room. "please"

you barely say yes before he's already pulling your shorts and panties off, exposing your cunt.

"shaved for me? little slut..." he mutters, taking off his suit and boxers, pumping his hard cock a few times before parting your lips with his thumbs and pushing into you.

your cunt stretched around his length, a burning pain that was relieved when riki started thrusting in and out, pulling completely out of your tight hole just to pound back in, over and over and over again.

tears filled your eyes with every thrust into you, each time he hit the spot that made you see stars released a sharp sob from your throat. his hand squeezed one of your ass cheeks before he leaned over you, chest pressed against your clothed back and gripping your neck, shoving you deeper into the mattress.

"please, riki, gonna cum... fuck"

he slaps your ass and you cry out in pain and white hot pleasure. "not cumming til i cum, slut" he murmurs in your ear, pounding his dick into you harder.

and he orgasms, a loud gasp leaving his mouth as he collapses on top of you, his seed filling whatever space was left in you, warm and thick.

he pulls out, watching his cum drip out of your used hole and onto the floor.

"fucking hell... you look so perfect like this, my cum filling you up, huh?"

and then you cum too, your body trembling as you squirt all over him, his chest painted with your slick, his lips hungry for more.

he grabs your hips and turns you around, pushing you onto the bed, letting you lay down before climbing in next to you, pulling you close to him and wrapping his arms around your waist.

your bodies lay entwined for a while, riki holding you so close that you could feel his heartbeat.

"riki?"

"hmm?"

"what did you want to talk about?"

"shit," he sits up, standing from the bed and walking over to the door, where he left a thick black briefcase you hadn't noticed he brought. "okay," he pulls his boxers back on and walks over to sit on the bed with you, where you were already rising to see what he was doing. "promise you'll listen before you answer"

you nod, a little scared.

he opens the case, revealing two syringes and another suit. a white one with a gold spider.

he pulls out the mask, handing it to you. "when i went to australia, i learned some things about givré. the first was that his base is in singapore. the second is that he also has powers. can turn whoever he looks at into ice as long as it looks him in the eyes."

"like medusa"

"yeah, like medusa." riki continues, "and the third, is that he's trying to take the technology that gave me powers and combine it with his genetics to make an army of weird ice-spider people."

"and this relates to me... how?"

"i can't take givré down on my own. his base is too heavily gaurded and there's no way i would be able to take him out alone. your... feminine charms... are exactly what i need, along with agility and just extra hands. so i want to turn you into a spiderman, spiderwoman, too."

"absolutely not." you look at him as if he had lost his mind, which he probably had.

"y/n," he looks at you with a softness in his eyes. "you know i wouldn't ask you to do this if i didn't think you could handle it, right? and i can help you. you're the only person i trust to do this with me."

"no, i'm the only person, period. you don't have anyone else who will help, do you?"

he shakes his head, a somber expression on his gorgeous face. "please," he pleads. "we could be a team." he raises a playful eyebrow, nudging your shoulder with his.

you sit in silence for a few minutes before giving him an answer.

"i'll do it, but only because i hate givré for hurting you," you trace a finger over the stitches healing on his shoulder. "he deserves to die."

riki nods, handing you the rest of the suit; letting you examine it.

"damn, that's nice."

riki nods. "you can put it on, but i need to inject these into you first." he points to the syringes, pulling one out and uncapping it.

"what are they?"

"one's the venom stuff that gives you weird spider powers, the other is a instant-reaction inducer that i perfected so that you get the powers faster. should only take an hour instead of a week."

"should?" you eye the other syringe, filled with purpleish pink liquid.

"i've... never tried it before. but it isn't particularly dangerous."

you give a wary nod, eyes refusing to leave the suspicious syringe in case it grew a pair of legs and plunged itself into your leg.

"we'll start with this one on your arm" riki uses an alcohol swab to wipe your arm before pressing the needle to it, plunging it into your skin and pushing the clear liquid into you.

you shake your arm, feeling a tingle run through your body that wasn't from the cold.

"and then this one." riki wipes another spot on your arm, and quickly pumps the needle and magenta serum into your bloodstream.

you shake your arm again, this time a sharp pain shooting from the puncture through your entire body.

"riki, it's stinging," you say, tears falling from your eyes. "fuck, i shouldn't have done this. shit shit shit."

riki laughs and pats your shoulder. "relax. the rats i tested it on had the same reaction. it goes away in about two minutes."

you raise your voice, practically yelling at riki in a stress-induced rage. "are you calling me a rat?!?!?!"

he bites back another laugh. "no, baby, you're much prettier than a rat. and smarter. and cleaner."

you frown, but already feel the pain lessening.

"put the suit on, let's see how it fits."

you slip the white fabric over your legs, unbuttoning your pajama shirt and pulling the rest over your shoulders.

"this is ridiculous" you say, the weird fabric at least two sizes too big to fit you.

"press the center of the spider."

you do as he says, and the fabric tightens around your body, fitting perfectly against your curves. the lining on the inside was smooth and silky, not chafing against your bare skin at all as you walk around the room. "damn, this feels awesome"

riki stares at you, transfixed.

"what?" you ask, chuckling.

"you look... gorgeous." he stands from the bed and grips your hips, his large hands holding you as he took in your accentuated curves. "like a goddess."

you blush, cheeks flaming. "thank you"

his lips press down into yours in a soft kiss, not urgent, just pure love.

love.

riki loved you.

but he didn't fully know what the feeling meant yet.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ₊

"just jump!"

"thats like... seventy feet! what do you mean 'just jump'???"

"come onnn y/n, it's not as far as you think."

riki is crouched on the edge of the dorm building's roof, his mask back on as he tries to convince you to throw yourself off the edge.

"just get a running start. you know i can catch you if you fall"

you walk backwards, all the way to the other side of the roof, take one last glance at riki, and run.

every sense is heightened when you push off the edge, throwing yourself to the other building.

the wind, the rain, the sounds of people thirty stories below, the lights from akasaka and the convenience store on the main floor of the building across the street.

everything.

and as soon as it started, it was over.

you roll into a somersault onto the other roof, and land sitting with your legs spread, your hands bracing between them to stop your skull from smacking into the concrete.

riki cheers from the building you hurtled off of, standing up and clapping his hands wildly.

"lets gooo!!" he screams through the darkness, barely visible when you turn around to look at him.

you laugh and shoot a thumbs-up.

"what's next"

"let's use those webs"

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ₊

a few hours later, you and riki collapse in your room, laughing from exhaustion and the amount of webs stuck to riki's suit.

you definetly needed to work on your aim.

"your hand-eye coordination sucked" says riki, pulling his mask off and hanging it on the post of your bed. his head rested against the wall with his shoulders pressed into the bed while you were sprawled out on the floor, hair a mess around your face.

it wasn't easy to pull all of it into the mask, but with riki's help you managed to fit all of it under the fabric with only a few strands sticking out.

not bad, it would just take some getting used to.

"sorry, i've only had the powers for two hours. i had to get used to it." you laugh, kicking the part of his leg you could reach.

he rolls his eyes, flipping around to lay on his stomach and kiss you off the side of the bed.

you turned to face him better, your lips pressing into his, hands reaching up and grabbing his jaw. he whined into your mouth, and his cheeks went red when you opened your eyes to look at him.

he was flustered.

cute.

"did you... whimper?" you giggle, hands still tracing his jawline.

he rolls his eyes again, pulling away from you and trying to play it off. "it felt good. sue me."

you laugh again, wrapping your fingers around the back of his head and pulling him into your lips again, taking the lead again.

he folded easily in your arms when you crawled up into the bed, your head in the pillows with his nestled into your shoulder and his hands wrapped around your waist.

you rub your hand through his hair, and he whines again in absolute bliss.

your heart hurt.

he was so sweet. so considerate. so loving.

he tossed a leg over yours, cuddling closer to you, even with both of your suits on.

and thats how you two fell asleep, limbs tangled and riki's head resting in the crook of your neck.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ₊

"we should go to singapore soon."

you look up at riki from where you hung by your legs on the balcony, blood rushing out of your head.

"really? it's only been three days!" you say, climbing to sit upright on the ledge. riki leans against the wall, randomly shooting webs into the early morning sky.

"givré's not gonna wait for us. you're better now too. i think we need to go as soon as possible."

you walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his chest and looking up at him, resting your chin against his chest.

"i'm scared." your voice is small, shaky.

riki smiles softly, his finger brushing a stray hair from your face. "me too." he kisses your forehead. "i won't lose you."

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ₊

you were on the plane three hours later.

riki knew you'd go. he had already booked the flights, already had a bag packed.

you had never been on a plane before. you hadn't done a lot of things before, but riki taught you.

neither of you packed much. just a change of clothes, your phones and chargers, some water bottles, and the suits in a backpack.

riki sat next to you on the plane, giving you the window seat and sitting next to the aisle. his hand rested on your thigh posessively. your skin tingled under his touch.

when the plane took off, you squeezed riki's hand. he smirked when you shut your eyes during turbulence. you opened them to find him smiling, and you hit his arm lightly.

"you're cute" he says, rubbing your leg.

"i'm nervous"

his fingers trail further and further up your thigh, almost touching the apex of your legs.

"then relax" he whispers, knuckles grazing your throbbing clit.

a defeated moan leaves your mouth, and he leans in to whisper in your ear.

"be quiet for me baby. don't want anyone hearing what i do to you. those noises are fucking mine."

you clap a hand over your mouth when he slips a hand into your shorts, sliding his finger between your folds and dragging it up and down.

he laughs darkly, kissing your jaw when he plunges a finger into your aching hole.

every sound you suppress makes you clench around his finger even more, his thumb rubbing your clit for more stimulation. he pushes another finger into your cunt, stretching your walls as your hips buck slightly into his hand.

"shh baby, stay quiet for me. stay quiet and you can cum."

you bite your palm, as he curls his fingers inside you, hitting deep and hard.

and when you fell apart on him, he grinned triumphantly, feeling your pussy clamp onto his fingers as you came over his hand.

he laughed, pulling his hand out of your pants and licking your slick off of them, a tiny groan leaving your lips as he sucks you off of his digits.

just as he finishes, a flight attendant walks down the aisle, and hands you both a bag of crackers and a napkin.

"in case you need to clean up" she says as she walks away, leaving you with a red face and another sly smile on riki's face.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ₊

you were asleep when the plane landed.

riki was surprised you actually were able to rest. he spent the seven hours on his computer, buying acces to the plane's wifi and scouring the internet for any information on givré.

he found almost nothing.

but he did find something.

he poked your cheek with his middle finger, waking you up with a chuckle.

"w-what?" you ask, rubbing your eyes and clearing your throat.

"we landed. and i found some stuff on givré."

"really?"

"yup. apparently, he went to college." he says, turning the laptop to you where a website of a prestigious university in france was open.

"how did he do that without any other records? he doesn't exist!"

"thats what i thought." says riki, typing away on the keyboard. "then i did research into the workers at the college. i scoured the benefactors recognition page and found this guy."

he shows you the screen. there was a picture of a black haired man, he had a long face and pale skin, with grey hairs and glasses, he looked important.

"okay...and he's significant because...." you say, confused.

"he's significant because he's givré's father."

you stare at riki, your eyebrows raised skeptically.

"this guy, gabriel dubois, is a well known scientist. graduated high school at 10, went to that school because his mom went too and had connections, not like he needed them. graduated with his bachelors when he was 12 and got a masters in genetics when he was 15. he worked for a lab in germany for a long time before he got married at 21."

you nod along with riki's words, following his story.

"he started his own study in genetics, using a grant he got from the university to start helping the french government in growing reproduction rates and using genetics to strengthen traits and stuff. he had two daughters, twins, and when he died he donated half of his will to the university. they built a memorial for him too."

"so where's givré in this story?"

"givré is the illegitimate affair child of another woman." riki says, a half smile on his face.

"how the fuck could you possibly know that"

"emails from gabriel and the lady, sarah. it wasn't too hard to get into gabriel's google account. found the messgaes along with pictures and updates on givré. gabriel made sarah keep givré hidden, not wanting anything to happen to himself or the kid. gabriel was able to use his status in the college to pull strings and get givré into the school even though he didn't 'exist.'"

"wow. nepo baby much?" you say, laughing.

"exactly, anyways, givré apparently inherited his daddy's genes, ironically, because he got a masters in genetics too. thats the only trace of him i could find. so now we just have to figure out what the fuck he's working on in singapore. with his base empty it'll be easy to take a peek."

you stand up with riki when everyone starts exiting the plane, filing out of the tight chamber and into the singapore airport.

when you leave the gate, you almost instantly see the waterfall.

"oh my god!" you gasp, staring at the massive structure. an open circle in the ceiling of the huge building. crystal water flowed straight to the ground, a massive pond catching the flow. foliage in all shades of green decorated the whole place, surrounding the stores and balconies.

it was absolutely beautiful.

riki's hand slipped around your waist, pulling you close to him.

"i saw it last time and wished you were here with me," he said, kissing your cheek when a grin spread across your lips.

you giggle, turning your head to peck his lips, and then start walking to the escalator, pulling riki with you.

he follows you to the base of the fountain, watching you stick your hands in the clear water.

he pulls his phone out and takes a picture of you, your back to him, hair in a messy ponytail and your backpack slung over one shoulder.

he puts his phone back in his pocket when you turn to walk back to him, taking a mental note to set that as his wallpaper when he has the chance.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ₊

"so when do we storm the castle?" you ask, your head hanging off the edge of the motel bed as you scroll through instagram.

riki's on the other side of the bed, head resting on the headboard and your foot in his hands.

when you sat down and took off your shoes, you mentioned they hurt. five seconds later, he was massaging your sore feet.

it was sweet.

"tonight. we should go around eleven. it's gonna be better if it's dark."

you nod, lifting your head to look at him.

"we can do whatever for nine whole hours bro"

"bro?" he asks, looking wounded. "bro!?"

you laugh and roll your eyes. "chill bro."

he grabs your calves, dragging you up and into his lap. your cheeks flush, embarrassment so plain on your face.

he presses his forehead to yours, whispering in the small gap between you.

"don't fucking call me bro. your bro doesn't get to fuck you. your bro doesn't get to kiss you like i do. i'm not your fucking bro."

you squeal when he flips over you, pressing you into the mattress and kissing you like his life depended on it.

like he was teaching you a lesson.

your hands trace the outline of his abs through his hoodie, nails scratching through the thick fabric as best as they could. his lips trail down to your neck, sucking on your skin and licking the marks he left.

you push him away, and he gives you a confused look.

"i'm hungry, bro"

he grips your hip as he moves to kneel between your legs and stare furiously at you.

"you're so fucking lucky we need to save our energy for tonight, or my dick would already be halfway down your throat."

you laugh sultrily, rolling over and onto your stomach and going right back to scrolling on your phone.

riki scowls and lays next to you, kissing you on your temple as he turns on the tv and secretly takes a picture of you with a loosened ponytail and your phone in hand.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ₊

riki took you to dinner that night.

nothing fancy, just a hole in the wall sushi place in a strip mall that had good reviews on yelp.

but he was sweet. he remembered you said you didn't like fish eggs, so he ate them for you. he asked about school, apologized for taking you away even with the workload you had, and told you stories about his life.

something you hadn't known much about.

he had two sisters, a dog, friends. people who didn't know about his secret life at night.

that made you feel special.

he liked to dance, even taught classes with his older sister to kids and teens.

adorable.

he dabbled in art, painted and drew a little bit. when the check came he sketched a picture of an anime character on the back.

you kept it, folded it and put it in your pocket.

he noticed.

you went and got ice cream afterwards, huge cones that you could barely hold without dropping.

riki got one with durian on it, you warned him not to, having heard the horrors of the rotting garbage scented fruit, but he was set on it.

you laughed when he spat it out onto the dirt, wiping his tounge with a napkin.

"i didn't know it would be that bad!" he said, licking his vanilla ice cream in a desperate attempt to get the taste out of his mouth.

you shake your head in dissapointment, handing him your stronger, chocolate flavored dessert so he could taste something else.

you walked back to the motel, sitting cross legged on the bed and talking about life, family, dreams.

he held your head in his lap when you got sleepy, rubbing neck and advising you to get some rest before you had to start getting ready to find givré's hideout.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ₊

"do you have everything?" riki asks, pulling the sleeve of his suit over his shoulder and tightening it to fit his body.

you nod, suit already on and your hidden utility belt filled with extra web fluid, a small tazer, a tranq blowdart thing that riki developed, and a bunch of other weapons and devices.

riki stands behind you when you look in the mirror, studying the suit.

"what's up?" he asks, wrapping his arms around your waist and putting his head on your shoulder.

you shrug. "it's just weird, having powers, bring a hero. i don't even feel like one. i don't want to lose you, so i feel like the only way not to is to help.

he nods, kissing you on your temple- his new favorite spot. "i feel the same way. honestly, i'm so proud of you for being brave. for helping me, for being here. i promise i'll protect you."

you stand in silence together, staring at eachother through the mirror.

then he pulls away, grabbing his phone and taking a picture of the two of you in the mirror, your head tilted up and to the side as you smile at him and his hand resting on your hip.

you giggle, telling him to text the photo to you and walking away from the mirror.

he favorites the photo, wanting to remember this moment forever.

×××××××

it was 11:13 when the two of you arrived at the warehouse.

riki found gabriel's will and saw the property was left to sarah, listed as a childhood family friend, but givré was the one who used it.

the building was about the size of an airplane hangar, gaurds at every entrance. the main one had three, and the two side ones had two each.

you and riki were crouched on a water tower, riki steadily watching the side entrance closest to you.

the technology in the masks made it easier to see, the high contrast filter and enlarging lens made it easier for riki to keep tabs on the gaurds.

you fiddled with your suit, shooting webs onto the water tower and molding them into little animals while you waited for riki.

"okay, i have a plan." riki says, not taking his eyes off of the men below.

"shoot." you say, putting down your web cow.

"they rotate every thirty minutes. there are two inside the warehouse every rotation, its like a big circle."

you listen intently, waiting for his direction.

"i need a distraction from one door so i can slip into the warehouse and take a look around. that's where you come in. i need you to get the two gaurds to pay attention to you."

"how do you want me to do that?"

"preferably something that's gonna cloud their judgement. also, the suit turns into an anklet if that's a piece of information you'd like to use."

you can feel the smirk in his voice. but you nod, jump off the tower, and swing into the forest next to the warehouse.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ₊

riki waited for you.

he sat on the water tower, one of the web fishes you made in his hand, and watched the gaurds.

he thought he was ready for you.

but he wasn't.

he watches as a figure stumbles out of the treeline, dirty, ragged, and running towards the gaurds.

he zooms in.

you.

fucking naked.

he knew that's what you were going to do. that's what he wanted you to do. but now he wasn't so sure that's what he really wanted.

because he didn't want other people to see you the way he got to see you. you were his.

he was yours.

but he pushes through, watching as you catch the gaurds' attention.

they fucking noticed.

you grab one of their arms, pleading for help, begging him to save you.

riki saw the gleam in their eyes.

fucking assholes.

you told them you were kidnapped. raped. you had run from the man, and needed shelter.

and they believed you, each one grabbed your arm and pulled you into the warehouse.

riki dropped down to the ground and darted to the door just before it closed, stopping it with his foot and peeking in.

he had to bite back a laugh.

because there you were. your suit was back on and you already had one gaurd on the ground, the other in a headlock with your legs wrapped around his waist and a web covering his mouth.

riki jumped in, tazing the guy in the neck and letting you climb off of him. your hair was a wild mess, covered in mud and knotted at the ends.

riki pulled his own off and kissed you, the mud from your nose smearing on his cheek and his hands holding you tightly.

when he pulled away, he laughed. "you're a fucking brilliant actress"

"yeah, you would think so."

"hey, not my fault you were gorgeous. you actually convinced them."

he helps you pull your hair up and put the mask back on, hiding your face along with his.

"what is this place?" you ask, finally looking around the room you were in.

"looks like a storage closet?" riki holds up a lab coat from a hanger. your hand traced a box filled with safety goggles and gloves.

"let's keep looking." you open the door and poke your head out of the closet, checking for anyone in the hallway.

you motion for riki to follow you, walking past windowed rooms with thousands of mice, rats, and guinea pigs.

the smell was horrid.

like death, shit, and chemicals.

riki pressed a button on his belt, breathing faster now.

you cocked your head at him, and he reached over to press the same button on yours.

you didn't smell it anymore.

an air filter.

you kept walking, past doors with complex locks, windows that were covered yet had light seeping through curtians, and branching hallways.

it reminded you of a hospital.

riki pointed at a door with a lock that was slightly ajar, carefully slipping his fingers into the crevice

your heart pounded.

riki opened the door, and was met with an armored gaurd.

he instantly tazed the bulky man in the neck, the spot the least covered and most vulnerable.

he collapsed, and you kept walking, stepping over the body while riki tied him up with webs.

you gasped. the room was filled with rows and rows of vials, bright blue goo filling the thin tubes.

riki looked up, picking a vial from the row closest to him and twirling it in his fingers.

"this is it."

you watch riki as he drops the vial to the ground crushing it under his foot.

"we should take a few" you say, grabbing a couple from the stand.

"yeah. here are some stoppers" riki says, handing you some corks from the counter against the wall.

you slip three tubes into your belt, tucking them safely away with a few webs to cushion them.

"should we burn the place?" you ask, turning around to riki.

but it isn't just riki in the room.

givré is right behind him, glasses covering his eyes, blue streak prominent as ever, and his turtleneck wrinkled.

"what the hell are you doing here?" you ask, causing riki to spin around and look at givré.

"i should be asking you that question. i didn't know spidey had a girlfriend!"

givré struts around the room, making his way towards a counter.

you shoot a web, covering a gun that was sitting on the tiled surface.

givré chuckles, tounge poking out of his hollow cheek.

"okay. okay. what do you want to know?"

riki holds his ground, pulling a gun from under the table.

"we already know what this is for. obviously you escaped prison, obviously you want to do something to somebody. who else know's whats happening here?" he aims the weapon at givré. a threat.

"there's no one else. i couldn't risk people finding out.looks like that didn't matter" says givré. you can see the nervousness plain on his face, hands shaking.

"okay. great. oh, one more thing," says riki, hand steady. "i think i deserve a little revenge, huh?" he points the gun at givré's heart, cocking it with his free hand.

givré whimpers, falling to his knees.

"please, please don't kill me. please"

"oh, i won't." says riki, chuckling. "but the fire will."

he shoots givré in the shoulder, blood sprouting on the white of his sweater.

you tie him up with webs, sticking him to the ground as riki smashes all the vials he could reach, destroying almost everything that givré worked towards.

"you have a match?"

"yup. this stuff is 100% flammable, it'll be easy to destroy everything. lets light her up."

and that's when you run, flames erupting behind you and riki as you race down the hall and out of the storage room, swinging up to the water tower and watching the warehouse erupt.

"i feel kind of bad for the animals" you say, pulling off your mask.

"it's better they die than be tested on. trust me, i only had a few and i still regret testing on them."

you watch the building burn, walls crumbling and the gaurds racing around, trying to find givré and the missing ones.

riki pulls out a knife, pries open the in the water tower, and lets the cold liquid flow down into the wreckage.

it's over.

for now.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ eight months later ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ₊

"you have got to be kidding me"

riki is standing in your doorway, holding a boquet of lego flowers shaped like spiders, a stupid grin on his face and a box of chocolates under his arm.

"happy eight months to my little eight legged partner in crime!"

"what the actual fuck?" you say, laughing when you open the chocolates and see little plastic spiders decorating the inside.

riki walks in and kisses you, and you kiss him right back, putting the flowers and chocolates on your desk just before he picks you up and carries you out onto the balcony.

"you like them?" he whispers, pressing another kiss to your lips.

"i love them. i love you. my little spiderman."

"woah woah woah," he says, dropping you onto the floor of the balcony. "i wouldn't say little."

"i mean...." you giggle and grab his hand. "i think your hand is bigger than your dick."

"they're like... the same size!" he protests, looking at his hand compared to yours and laughing even in frustration.

"i think you need to prove it."

riki chuckles and picks you back up. "i was planning to watch the sunset with you but now i'd rather watch you under me."

he puts you on the bed, climbing over you and kissing you. "happy anniversary"

"happy anniversary riks" you say breathlessly.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ₊

a.n- AHAHAHHA SPIDERMAN RIKI AHAHHAHAHA im fine im fine im fineeee.... tysm for reading! comment if youd like to join my tagilst and lmk if you have any reqs in my asks!

masterlist you might also like: assigned- n.rk

#── ブーン #˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ─── 力 #ni ki #nishimura riki #ni ki smut #ni ki fluff #enhypen #enhypen x reader

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gin-juice-tonic · 11 months ago

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So, for Starters: Book Of Bill Spoilers warning. Another opinion from me below. This new one is about the lost journal pages again, of course.

Originally, I wanted to make a super big crazy essay about all the reasons I think the journal pages in BOB (The Book of Bill’s given name) are fake, and show off my super-cool totally completely sound deductive reasoning techniques in the process.

Unfortunately, knowing myself I’m not sure I’m actually capable of accomplishing such a feat. You all know how I tend to post things in parts, sometimes out of order, often never finished. However I would like to share something in particular that’s been eating at me that I’ve seen… partially discussed, but only partially. And certainly not the part that I would like to discuss.

It’s about the rats.

You know, the rats.

I saw these rats being talked about since before I was even able to have a look at the book myself.

But before I get further into it all, I would like to start off with a joke:

Why did dead rats, eggnog, a land orca, shrimp colors, It’s a Small World After All, and an Anti-Cipherite Suit cross the road?

Well, that’s easy. To get to the other side.

Of the book, that is.

If you’re anything like me, you probably skipped right to the journal pages upon contact with the book. And if you’re even MORE like me, you were probably left a little confounded by them. Not only did they seem… wrong somehow. But they also felt random. Full of odd choices of subject that didn’t make a lot of sense. Could these pages really have come from journal 3? If so, why do parts of them feel so… completely out of context?

And this is where the rats come in. As I mentioned before, I saw many people discussing them. In particular, they were noting a connection to this passage from earlier in the book:

Many of the related discussions also felt odd to me. Though I lacked the knowledge to be able to articulate why at the time. UNTIL, I read the book for myself from start to finish. That's when I realized something: This is not the only time something from earlier in the book connects back to the journal pages. In fact, it happens many, many times throughout the earlier passages. (Here is a small collection of them for your perusal.)

And then it started clicking into place. The reasons the pages felt like they were so abnormally out of context… is because they WERE lacking context!

Now, before you can finish saying “Gin, you’re an idiot.” I would like you to ponder these three questions:

1) Why, if these pages were taken from Journal 3, should they require context from outside of it to be able to be completely understood?

2) Why is it that this context can be found in what Bill Cipher has been writing in the preceding passages up till now?

3) If you put food in a mogwai’s mouth at midnight EST but drive it over the CST time zone line back to 11PM before it can swallow, will it still transform into a gremlin?

Okay, you caught me, that third one is unrelated. But the first two I believe require further thinking. So let’s delve a little further into the idea. Consider this the real third question:

3) Are we to seriously believe that these, the only pages of J3 still lost to us, just so happen to tie into the new topics from the rest of the Book of Bill over and over like this?

And since you’ve done so well thinking thus far, I’ll ask a fourth question:

4) Are you aware of the concepts of Watsonian and Doyalist analysis?

Assuming you don’t and you won’t google it, I’ll skip to the important part. Watsonian analysis is to analyze a story from within it, as if you yourself were Watson making deductions in a Sherlock Holmes novel.

Now, from a Watsonian point of view, what happens when we try to answer our earlier questions? Why should it be that the Book of Bill provides so many of these points of reference to the journal pages?

One possible line of thought could be that Bill wrote the earlier passages of his book *around* the idea of what was contained in the pages, but I think this doesn’t work for a few reasons. For one thing, the purpose of the book is to get the reader to make a deal, not to take a whole novel to set the stage for a 3 day mini Ford adventure. For another, not all of what I described prior is really fit to be called “context”, is it? The rats, the “Small World” cassette, and the Bill-Suit are one thing, but Eggnog? Shrimp colors? Land Orcas? I certainly wouldn’t define them that way. If anything, they’d be better suited to being called “references”. And unlike the more contextual ideas, there’d be no real need for Bill to sneak mere references to the pages into his grand story. And lastly, there are a great deal of Bill pages that have nothing to do with the content in the journal pages at all.

So what exactly am I trying to say here?

If we do intend to think of the callbacks outlined above as references, the only logical conclusion within the story is that the journal pages themselves are referencing back to the Book of Bill, not the other way around.

But… how? And why? Something Ford has written in the 80’s shouldn't be able to reference something Bill is writing post-weirdmageddon certainly.

That’s because “Ford” isn’t referencing it at all!

And as for why… Well, have you ever noticed when you're writing a story on the fly, things you wrote earlier all come crashing back to you as you try to wrap things up? I believe personally that the journal pages are not pages actually written by Ford, but more a strange endcap on Bill’s crazy train of thought! That Bill is the one writing them, and the "references" are just fuel that further the pages creation. Almost as if, to quote someone much more knowledgeable than me on this subject…

(This single paragraph has been inserted a good deal after the original writing of this post.) I would like to clarify, I am not trying to claim the ideas presented in the pages have no basis in reality whatsoever. Ultimately, what I'm saying is I think Bill wrote them, and they should be taken with suspicion instead of as complete fact. "Did this event happen exactly this way?", "Does some of this feel distorted?", "Did this part even happen at all?" I think those are questions worth examining with the events detailed on these pages.

In the end, all I've described above (as well as other aspects of the pages I've not mentioned here) leave me with the impression the pages are not real.

As I stated only a bit earlier, the idea that these pages, the only pages of J3 purported to be lost, should be so connected to the rest of the book is beyond coincidence to me. Not to mention that in order to take these pages as total truth, you must give credence to several other passages of Bill's book as well. And I'm not too keen on having to trust him that much.

To all who have read this far, even to those who may have scoffed at the ideas in here or think I've only written up nonsense. Thank you for reading and considering my thoughts.

I am not saying anyone must agree with me on this. I know some people have found the pages to be important and meaningful to them, and I do not wish to give the impression that I think my view is the end all be all correct one, or that I think lesser of those who believe them to be Ford's own writings. I only want to share my own thoughts on them. And to anyone else who found the pages to feel "off" somehow, possibly validate their feelings too.

#long post #the longest post #book of bill spoilers #the book of bill spoilers #for real this time #rat #rats #(those are warning tags)#gin discusses cartoons #bob investigations #this one can stay in the discussion tag bc i particularly like the way i wrote this one

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tragedynoir · 2 months ago

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— introducing 019: INKED NOTES + [ link ]

a google doc template inspired by polymaths, lab notebooks and sketchbooks. while, this clean and elegant doc features pressed flowers from sagesolar on flickr, as well as salvator rosa's sketches in the public domain, the background images can be complete customized according to your muse with the PSD or page assets provided. with a backstory space that can accommodate any length of writing, this template is perfect for scientist and artist muses alike. this premium template and a full page-by-page preview can be found in the link above or in the source link.

features:

8 unique 14" x 8.5" pages with 6 carefully crafted full-page background images featuring public domain illustrations

a few short and long sections, and a backstory section that can fit any amount of writing

1 PSD of the background page assets to customize and make this template truly fit your muse

a connections page that can be easily duplicated for more

you may edit to your heart’s desire. Change the colours, replace, add or remove elements and images etc.

you may remix pages with pages from my other templates.

you may not remove the credit from the templates.

you may not copy, sell or redistribute my templates whether wholesale, in part (i.e. taking out certain pages) or remixed (i.e. modified).

you will also receive an additional guide with images on how to use and edit google doc templates! if you have any problems or issues, feel free to leave an ask or join our discord server.

thank you for all the support, likes and reblogs are appreciated as always. ♡

#google doc template #google docs template #gdocs template #gdocs #doc template #rp doc #muse template #muse doc #google docs #rp resource #character template #oc template #m #m pr

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vividxpages · 10 months ago

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𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ᡣ𐭩"guilty as sin?" ᡣ𐭩⋆๋𓂃ִֶָ ๋⋆𓏲𐙚

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 5800

summary: You always thought Jace could not be in love with you, his best friend’s little sister, but a dramatic incident during one of Cregan’s house parties reveals the truth.

warnings: modern au, pining, not so unrequited love, reader is Cregan’s little sister and a huge bookworm, Jace is Cregan’s best friend, fluff and falling in love, angst (mentions of childhood trauma/almost drowning), hurt/comfort, first kiss

a/n: i fought for my life uploading this via my phone, all the formatting from google docs went wooosh haha. Just a little something and different from what I wrote for Jace so far <3 The pool scene is inspired by the Maxton Hall series - if you watched it, you’ll know why ;)

-⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ☁️📖🤍୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Your brother Cregan had met a new friend, during one of his vacations with his boys. Someone had asked the curly haired boy if he wanted to join and just like that, Jacaerys had become Cregan’s friend.

It was easy like that, sometimes.

But when your brother brought Jace over for the first time and you were reading in the living room, deeply lost in your book and not prepared for visitors, things quickly got much more complicated.

He was cute and completely unaware of it as you shook hands and he gave you an adorable smile that made you weak in the knees.

In the beginning, you thought he was like a ghost in your home, only appearing from time to time and briefly, but always leaving goosebumps on your skin when he shyly waved at you. Just his sight alone was enough to make you want to bury your face in your book. You wanted to become his friend, too. Until you wanted to be more than that.

And over the months, their duo became a trio as you joined them more and more often, curled up on your brother’s bed as he and Jace played a video game or going out with them for food or random drives.

You laughed together - it was so so easy to laugh with Jace - and you got to know him better when he told you about his big family and how nice it was to retreat into your quieter family’s house sometimes.

You caught yourself watching him more and more when no one was looking, daydreaming about what it’d be like to be close to him, to kiss his pouty lips and be his girlfriend…

But you were a trio now and you two were only connected by your older brother in the end.

But god, how inevitably you had fallen for Jacaerys, how impossible it was to forget about these desires.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃🥛 ࣪ ִֶָ.

It didn't take long until Jacaerys followed you into your dreams.

When you were sleeping, especially after you had read a couple pages of your favorite romance novels, he came to you, surrounded by smoke and fog. And for only a short lived dream, you could see each other together, doing things you wouldn't dare to think about during the day.

It was maddening and perfect and everything you wanted, but when you woke up, you were alone still.

You stared at the ceiling of your room, sighing deeply. Tucking your favorite stuffed animal, a small wolf with spotted fur, back under your blanket, you slid out of bed, in need of a distraction from fantasizing about kissing your brother's best friend.

You tiptoed down the staircase, silently slipping into the kitchen and feeling around the wall for the lightswitch.

"Don't get scared, I'm here." A soft voice came from the darkness and as you switched the light on, you spotted Jacaerys sitting at the kitchen table.

His hair looked disheveled from sleeping and he wore a long shirt and boxers, sheepishly looking at you with his phone in his hands.

Your hand itched to tuck a loose curl behind his ear for him.

“What are you doing awake?” You whispered, shuffling closer and rubbing your eyes with a yawn.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He smiled warmly at you, shrugging.

“I live here and I wanted a midnight snack.” You gave back. You rarely were alone with Jace lately, he and Cregan seemed to have reached a new stage in their friendship where it wouldn’t have surprised you if your older brother took his favorite Velaryon to the bathroom with him. “Is Cregan snoring?”

Jace chuckled quietly. “No. I just wanted to check my phone in case my cousin Rhaena texted me. My brothers are on a little trip with her and I want to make sure they’re okay and not homesick. They seem fine though, she sent me a picture of them eating ice cream earlier.”

Your chest ached funnily at the way he talked so lovingly about his family. But you knew Cregan’s habit as the oldest son all too well, needing to make sure you were okay all the time and you didn’t miss the way Jace smiled sadly at the picture on his phone after showing it to you.

“I bet they have the most amazing time and can’t wait to tell you all about it once they’re back.” You assured him and before you would have thought twice about it, you reached out and squeezed his shoulder. Your touch lingered, just a little moment too long and your eyes met.

Your breath hitched at his dark eyes on yours, shimmering in the soft kitchen light. You were both barefoot, in your sleeping clothes and your hair was open and uncombed and your heart was way too open for this time of the night.

You heard him exhale softly as you drew your hand back, feeling as if you had burned yourself. But why did you want to throw yourself wholly into his flames then?

“Would you like a chocolate milk?” You offered, the moment between you vanished. “It always helps me get back to sleep again.”

Jace furrowed his brows. “Cregan’s crazy for them too. He told me earlier you’re out of any chocolate milk.”

You grinned knowingly, walking past him and illuminating yourself in the cold light of the open fridge. “Yeah, that’s because he doesn’t suspect me hiding them behind the healthy stuff he avoids.”

Brushing past your yogurts and meal preps for your summer job, you produced two small milk cartons, shaking them victoriously.

Jace grinned at you and it only made you a little bit weak in the knees. "You're brilliant."

"I'm trying to survive with my vacuum cleaner of a hungry brother." You joked and handed him a carton, the two of you content as you began to sip on the sweet chocolate milk.

Under the soft light of the kitchen lamp, Jace and you forgot about time as you shared whispered stories with each other, your drinks soon becoming empty and replaced by new ones.

His gentle and unhurried words were good at calming down your entire body and soon, you felt your eyes drooping.

"I think we should both go back to bed now." Jace whispered. "I told Cregan we'll go play some basketball tomorrow morning and I want to beat him."

You laughed at the thought of your giant of a brother going up against Jacaerys. "Well, good luck to you."

With a tiny yawn, you stood up and smiled at him once again. "Thank you for the conversation, Jace. Sleep well."

"Goodnight." Jace said softly and for a moment, you lingered in the doorway, imagining if you weren't leaving. Imagining the two of you, him with you in his lap, pulling you closer as you kissed.

But you could dream about these things.

With one last smile, you left him, although your heart ached to stay with him for just a little longer.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🍋.

One afternoon, you were reading by the pool in the backyard.

You had just come back after your shift at your holiday job, helping out in a little bookshop downtown, and were now ready to relax all day.

On a small table next to your sun lounger stood a carafe of freshly pressed lemonade and the bookish harvest of the day, ready to be devoured by you until the sun went down.

The garden gate by the house rattled and you looked up, your hands nearly forgetting to put a bookmark between the pages as you spotted Jace letting himself in.

Your mouth went dry at his appearance, dark sunglasses holding back his curls, his white shirt a stark contrast against them. Illuminated by your kitchen lights or the sun itself, it didn't seem to matter for him.

He was so pretty, it almost made you want to look away, but you couldn't. You never could. And wasn’t this the root of the problem?

You swallowed against the dryness in your throat. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He smiled sheepishly at you before he looked up to Cregan’s window. “Cregan is not home yet?”

You shook your head. “Nope. It’s just me right now. Should I tell him you stopped by?”

He scratched his neck, a little helpless. “Um…if it’s okay, I could stay and wait for him? I like spending time with you, too, if that’s alright.”

You wanted to bury your face in your hands and giggle like stupid. You didn’t. “Yes, of course, no worries. Would you like a lemonade?”

Jace gratefully took the glass from your hands, your knuckles brushing against one another. “Thanks. You can continue reading if you want, just act like I’m not here.”

You thought about the steamy chapter you had just begun reading and considered your options. If you read, it was like every character the narrator was in love with became Jace. In your head, you two had already kissed and made love a thousand times like this. If you continued reading those longing and hot scenes with Jace so close to you, you were afraid you’d actually implode.

You watched him closely as he sat down by the edge of the pool, abandoning his shoes so he could dangle his long legs into the water.

The words in front of you melted together on the page, making it impossible to continue reading when he was so close to you.

Shifting on your sunchair, you allowed yourself to simply look at Jace who tilted back his head, closing his eyes against the sun and appreciating the quietness of the backyard. You wanted to go to him and kiss him on the lips. You wanted to go inside and splash very cold water on your face to stop these thoughts from happening.

“You know, I never see you swimming in here.” Jacaerys looked at you curiously, eyes scrunched together a little from the sun and probably the fact he was not wearing his contacts.

You shrugged, a little shy out of the sudden. “I used to, when I was younger. But…not anymore.”

“What happened?” Jace looked at you, curious yet a little worried.You tried to shrug it off, only to realize there was no shame in you when you talked to him. He waited for you, patiently so, but somehow you knew he would’ve let it go if you wanted it.

“We were on vacation once, Cregan, Sara and I, with our parents.” You told him and in your mind you could see the three of you playing together in the garden, your brother giving you a piggyback ride as Sara laughed in delight. “I wanted to go swimming in the morning, but no one was awake yet, so I snuck out. I just couldn’t wait to get into the pool. But I underestimated how deep it was and I couldn’t hold myself up well enough then…Cregan had woken up when he heard me leave and found me. I scared everyone, but I was okay, just coughed up some water and was shocked at my own boldness. Ever since, the pool and I are not really on good terms.”

Jacaerys looked at you, eyes filled with consternation and empathy. “I’m sorry you had an experience like this. That must’ve been very scary.”

You looked at him with surprise, but there were no jokes in him, only sympathy. “It was, but it’s okay. I was…six, I think, so it’s long behind me.”

“This whole pool is a waste if you can’t enjoy it.” Jace tried to lighten the mood and as always, his playful tone lured a smile out of you. A certain sparkle danced through his eyes and you knew whatever came next could not be taken seriously: “What would you like to have instead of it? A garden library maybe, for all your books? Maybe I can convince Cregan to cement the pool shut once your parents are gone next weekend.”

You laughed, a warm rush blossoming through you at the mention of your own little library. He knew how much you read and he had no clue you were seeing him in every love interest of your cheesy romance novels… “I bet my parents would love that and totally not…murder us once they’re back.”

As you laughed together, the small weight on your chest lifted itself and the memory from your story faded again, nothing but a distant thought of the past.

Cregan came home a little later and as he and Jace left to go up into his room, the two of you smiled at each other one last time, as if you were sharing a secret no one knew but you now.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🍿.

It was getting late, but Tuesday was movie night and neither of the three of you wanted to pull out of it first.

Cregan, Jace and you had pushed the couch table to the side and splayed blankets and pillows all over the carpet earlier.

To our feet was the rest of your movie snacks, but only a half-full bowl of popcorn remained which you passed back and forth from time to time.

When Cregan had suddenly not grabbed the bowl from you anymore, you and Jace had shared a knowing look.

Your brother was snoring softly, his head tilted back and arms entwined in front of his broad chest. He was out cold, completely oblivious to the movie still running quietly on the TV screen.

But you and Jace were still awake.

And out of the sudden you realized that you had never sat so close to each other. Your shoulders were almost touching and somewhen, your legs had ended up underneath his blanket, your fuzzy socks brushing against his calf.

You willed your breathing to remain regular, seemingly impassive as you continued to watch the movie, but you simply could not concentrate, not when Jace’s presence so close to you clouded all your senses like this.

The atmosphere was thick with tension and you wondered if all of this was only happening in your mind. You took a deep breath and reached for the popcorn again.

Tiny lightning struck you as your fingers brushed against Jace’s, neither of you pulling back.

You took all your courage and looked up to him, his burning gaze already resting on you. You swallowed thickly, unable to look away and when you felt his thumb brushing over your knuckles, you were sure you were going mad.

It seemed like Jace couldn’t look away either and a full-body shudder went through him when your leg shifted against his.

“You can sleep.” Jace whispered into the darkness, gulping hard. “I’ll switch the TV off later. I…I’ll watch over you.”

I don’t want to sleep. I want you and I’m afraid of what happens to me if I can’t have you.

But you feared your own words and the impact that they might have, destroying everything Jace and you had become over the last couple of months.

What if dreams were safer than reality, where nothing could hurt or disappoint you?

Your head fell softly against Cregan’s shoulder, sweet oblivion already pulling you under at the outlook of his sweet promise to you.

As you drifted asleep, you could’ve sworn there was a featherlight brush over your thigh, four little invisible letters forever imprinted into your soft skin

m…

...i...

…n...

…e

And as he watched your breath evening out, Jacaerys sighed deeply, his head bumping against the cushions of the couch and trying to calm down his pounding heart.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ📖.

The weekend came and Cregan and you watched your parents’ car leave the driveway, your arms slung around each other as you waved at them before they drove out of sight.

Your brother and you were standing together for a moment of silence until you said: “If tonight escalates in any way, I’m telling mom.”

“If you sneak downstairs and drink with the guys, I’m telling dad.”

You snorted, unimpressed. “Please, I’d rather lock myself in my room all weekend long if it means I can avoid your stupid house party.”

Later that day, when it had gotten dark outside and the lawn was plastered with abandoned bikes and a few cars parked nearby, you realized how painfully true you had spoken.

Cregan’s party had been going strong for a while now and you felt like a hermit, hiding upstairs in your room to avoid the chaos that was probably taking place downstairs.

You had curled up by the window with a book, but couldn’t find peace.

Every minute, someone downstairs was calling for a toast or more shots which was celebrated by everyone. Music was blasting through the speakers and you groaned internally at the way the vibrations could be felt through your carpet.

Cregan could only pull this because the neighbors loved him for helping out here and there sometimes and because he always miraculously managed to clean up the house like nothing wild had ever occured here.

When you heard something shatter downstairs, you had enough.

You closed your book and got up.

Sure, you had wanted to stay away from all the fuzz Cregan’s friends made, but this was still your house. You were allowed to move around whenever you wanted.

You muttered the words to yourself as you closed your door behind you, stomping down the staircase Cregan had declared taboo for everyone.

No one really took notice of their host’s little sister as you walked down the hallway, past many guests who were lingering by the walls and chatting with each other.

Making your way past the living room, you could see that the couch table had been pushed back for more space to dance, but the kitchen was relatively empty compared to the rest of the house.

There were multiple open pizza cartons on the counter and you grabbed yourself an extra cheesy slice as you looked around, amazed at how none of these people seemed to care who was walking around here.

All except one.

“I thought you might’ve taken refuge tonight at Baela’s.” Jace said behind you and you turned around with a sigh, smiling at him in playful annoyance.

“I wish I could’ve, but she is not in town as you might know.” You told him, munching on your pizza. “She’s at some bonding activity dinner with her dad.”

Jace hummed knowingly. “I heard. So you had no choice but to suffer the consequences of Cregan’s actions?”

The two of you looked around and you winced when you heard some splashes coming from the backyard, accompanied by some carefree shrieks of delight. Jace bit his lip, a little guilty at your discomfort.

“I’ll come around tomorrow and help him clean everything up.” He offered as a small comfort, his hand itching to rest on your shoulder like you had done to him. “There won’t be a dirty spot, I promise.”

“I know, Jace.” You sighed. “Thank you, truly. Where is my brother, by the way?”

Jace looked flustered to the ground, before smiling at you without teeth. “I think he went somewhere with a girl.”

“Of course he did.” Another loud crash went down outside and something in you snapped. “Okay, I’m going to go outside for a second, I don’t think some of these assholes realize we have neighbors, hold on-”

Jace looked over his shoulder, telling a group nearby to keep it down a little before he followed you.

For just a moment, you disappeared in the crowd and he had no idea which side you had gone for, trying to stand taller to spot you in the garden.

You quickly found the source to all the noisiness.

Three of Cregan’s guests, all boys you had never seen before in your life, were battling themselves for the biggest jump in the pool, splashing everywhere and soaking the pillows on the sun chairs with water.

“Hey.” You stared them down, blocking one of them from taking another leap in the pool. “Could you stop being an ass and jumping into the pool like a maniac? We have neighbors on each side of our backyard and it’s almost midnight, it’s so rude.”

The guy grinned down at you, looking over his shoulders to his smirking friends. “Did you hear that, guys? I think Cregan’s mom just came home, are you the fun police or what?”

You stared at him, irritated at such rude behavior. “I’m just telling you to calm down a little or I’ll kick you out, how’s that?” You might’ve been only Cregan’s little sister, but growing up with a fiercely protective brother like him, you had learned to stand your ground. And you were not scared of an idiot who looked like he had pissed his pants.

“Aww, I think you need a little fun, don’t you think?” He looked down on you, stepping closer until you felt the need to step back. “How about a little cool-off for you, huh?”

And with those words, he abruptly pushed you into the pool and everything went dark around you.

The people who had watched the heated exchange gasped and Jacaerys perked up as he heard nothing but quietness, quickly pushing his way through the crowd.

He came to a sudden stop at the edge of the pool, his eyes flickering back and forth between the guys standing by the edge and the water’s surface, its softening waves quietening down.

But underneath it, illuminated by the night lamps of the pool, he saw you and his eyes widened.

He did not think, did not even hesitate before he jumped into the water after you.

The surprising cold was like a shock to his system, his wet clothes dragging him down to where you floated, your eyes wide open but unseeing as you watched the bubbles around you.

Suddenly, you were six again and you couldn’t move.

You thought you were dying and no one would know, no one would know what you still had to say.

You wanted to kick and scream, to do something goddammit, but you were paralyzed by the sudden overwhelming scare.

Jace blinked and pushed himself forward, icy fear shooting through his veins when you gave no reaction that you had taken any notice of him. But the fear was quickly joined by the rage, anger over you, the most innocent being in this whole house, having been the one who took the most damage tonight...

Jace and you broke through the surface, the air rushing back into your lungs all at once and making you gasp painfully. Disoriented, you clung to Jace's shirt, looking around wildly as he pulled you close and soothed you.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here, it's okay, love." He murmured near your ear and you felt your body slump, not able to hold yourself up yet.

You felt his hands on your waist and then, with one hand around your back and the other supporting the back of your knees, he walked towards the low end of the pool, carrying you out as if you weighed nothing.

You painfully became aware of how quiet it had gotten around you. Everyone in the garden was looking at you, shocked and a little ashamed that a foul joke like that had escalated into something so serious.

Something ugly and hot burned in your throat and you buried your face in Jace's wet neck, holding on to him for dear life and wishing everyone would just disappear.

A helpless whimper escaped you and Jace held you only tighter. "It's okay, I got you. I won't let anything happen to you, we're almost out."

Both of your clothes hung heavily down your bodies as he left the pool with you, throwing one last deathly glance at the guy who messed with you before he made his way towards the house, still mumbling little sweet nothings in your ear as you tried to regulate your breathing to no avail.

You shivered even as you entered the warm house and simply tried to focus yourself on Jace. He efficiently made his way through your home and before you knew it, he was walking up the taboo staircase, going straight to your room.

You quietly sniffled to yourself, letting him carry you a few more steps before he gently set you down on your bed. He looked around, one hand brushing back his wet hair, and found your fluffy bathrobe hanging by the door.

"Can I?" He asked lowly, his heart aching at your slumped form on the bed. This whole incident had deeply shaken you to the core. "You're going to be cold soon if you don't get out of your…wet clothes."

If the situation had been different, you'd match his fierce blush, but it was like every feeling of shame had vanished from your chest and only left you empty. You nodded silently, taking the bathrobe he handed you before he turned around and faced the door.

You quickly slipped out of your clothes and sighed when you were enveloped by the fluffy robe.

"You can look again…" You told him and he turned around with a shaky exhale.

Normally, his job here was done now. He could go, rejoin the party and find Cregan so he'd kick those guys out.

But Jace could not imagine a single place where he was needed more in this moment than right here, with you.

"Should I make you a tea?" He broke the silence, fidgeting with his hands. When one of his younger brothers was hurting, he'd always make it better with a hug, but you were different, you were so much more-

"Can you just hold me for a while?" You pulled the rope tighter around you, your wet hair still clinging to your neck and cheeks. "Please?"

Maybe the leap into the pool had made you silly. It was bold and daring and you had no right to ask him of this, but your heart had spoken deeply from its core and you found that you did not wish to take the words back.

Jace's gaze softened at your plea. "Of course." He mumbled softly and sat down beside you.

A heavy shudder ran through you as his arms pulled you against him and you gladly fell into his side; letting yourself be held like a small child, your hands clinging to the arm wrapped around you.

You couldn't help yourself when your bottom lip started to wobble again and neither of you had to say it, he knew why this had been so scary to you. You felt his chin rest on your hair and his strong arms around you and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be comforted by him.

You had dreamed about being held by him, more than you could ever count, but not like this. It was a bittersweet feeling and when you snuggled yourself closer to him, in need for warmth and him, Jace took a deep breath.

"We should find you a towel." He murmured, his lips ghosting over your temple just like his hand had ghosted over your thigh…

You shivered, but not because you were cold anymore.

"I don't want you to get sick."

You nodded, sitting up with him and looking deep into his eyes. He didn't seem like he was able to get up just yet, the two of you lost in each other.

He had jumped into the cold water for you, not even hesitating a second. Your heart brimmed with love for him, nearly as bad as what it felt like to drown. And god, how you wanted to drown in him…

His dark eyes flickered down to your mouth and only now, you realized how close you still were sitting together, the slip of your bathrobe revealing half of your naked thigh to him.

"Jace…" You whispered and prayed all the prelude of wanting him and not being sure if you were allowed to have him was finally over now. "I-"

The door to your room opened and in came Cregan, panting as if he had run upstairs.

"Shit, are you okay?" He rushed to you, kneeling in front of the bed and looking you over in concern. "I was told what happened, I'm so sorry I wasn't there."

"It's okay." You mumbled, not wanting to worry him further. You already had scared Cregan badly enough for one time in your lives. "Jace helped me."

If Cregan noticed that he and you were still linking pinkies, he did not say anything about it. "I threw these fuckers out right away. The party is over."

You blinked at him. "What? You were excited about it all week. You don't have to-"

"Almost everyone is gone already." Cregan tried to smile encouragingly at you, but you could still see the worry in his eyes. "How about you'll change into something dry and I make us a snack? Are you sure you’re okay?"

"I'll leave you two." Jace announced quietly and squeezed your hand once more. "I'll go downstairs and make sure everyone is gone."

For just a moment, you did not want to let go of his hand and your fingers brushed midair before he slipped out of your grasp.

As the door closed behind him and Cregan brought you a towel for your hair, you already missed him like a lost limb.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🌸.

Of course, what had to happen, happened; a few days later, you found yourself sick.

Neither you nor Cregan had told your parents how the party had abruptly ended, a secret deal between the two of you so they wouldn't worry too much about you and they didn't have to punish Cregan for it.

So, your days at the end of summer were spent on the couch downstairs, curled up under a blanket and frequently attended by Cregan who brought you snacks and chocolate milk. It sucked and it was boring since you quickly ran out of books, but it was better than the horrible panic that went through you when you had been thrown into the pool.

On day three though, you had a visitor.

You blinked as steps approached your little sickbed, still a bit sleepy from your afternoon nap and the delicious noodle soup that had been made for you. But to your surprise, Cregan only stood at the staircase, smiling fondly at you before disappearing upstairs, making room for Jace who had waited behind him.

Your heart skipped a beat and a thousand thoughts rushed through your head. When had you showered the last time, did you comb your hair this morning, were you-

"Hey." Jace said softly. "I wanted to see if you were feeling better."

"A little." You smiled at him, sitting up and placing your wolf in your lap as he walked towards you. "You didn't have to come though, I don't want you to get sick."

He brushed your worries away and sat down on the carpet in front of your couch. "I brought you some tea. Raspberry was your favorite, right? And then, I thought you might want some new reading material."

You gasped as he conjured up a big bouquet of wildflowers from behind his back. At the first glance, it was only the most beautiful flower bouquet you had ever seen, but then you spotted a book in the middle of the blossoms.

And then another one.

And another one.

"Jace…" You whispered with wide eyes, shaking your head at him in disbelief. "You made me a flower bouquet with books?"

He bit his lip in flusteration, a pretty pink blush appearing on his cheeks. "Yeah...I went to the bookstore you work at and thought about what you might enjoy. I hope you like them, I kept the receipt just in case and-"

"Jace." You interrupted him and now it was your turn to blush as you pressed the bouquet to your chest, the new books in the middle of it already singing your name. "This is the loveliest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you, I love it so much. I bet the books you chose are wonderful."

In this moment, it didn't matter to you that you were sick and still a little nasal. The way he smiled up at you, like you were his entire world and his shoulders sagged with relief - your heart screamed at you to finally give in.

Give in to him.

The wrapping paper around your bouquet rustled against your chest as you bent forward and rested a careful hand on Jacaerys' cheek.

He looked up at you with wide puppy eyes, thunderstruck at the tender touch and then you really didn't know anymore who made the first move but it didn't matter, because then-

Your lips touched softly.

It barely was a real kiss, merely the brush of a butterflies' wing against you, but it was all you had longed for for so long.

Neither of you dared to breathe, the moment too soft and fragile to become anything deeper. But you felt him exhale shakingly, his thumb softly holding your chin to keep you close for just a moment longer. It was the softest first kiss you could’ve imagined for yourself.

You leaned back, but only a little, and watched as Jace's eyes blissfully fluttered open, fixing your own wide ones dreamily.

"If I would've known books are the way to your heart, I would've brought you some so much earlier." He confessed breathlessly.

You shook your head, your lips still tingling from this first shy kiss. "You have been in my heart since I first met you."

Jacaerys wanted to melt from the victorious roar his heart let out, a dragon taking flight. "I've been in love with you, too. Ever since Cregan introduced us."

Your hands found their way to each other before you let out a sudden laugh.

"What is it?" He wanted to know.

"I just- I kissed you."

He grinned. "Yeah, you did." And he was in need of a repetition already.

"Jace, you're going to be sick like me." You pointed out guiltily, although it didn't seem too bad to have a companion in your little misery, especially if it was him.

"Oh." He did not look like he had a single care for the consequences of your actions.

"Are you two done yet down there?!" Cregan called from upstairs and when your eyes met, you broke into laughter and your heart blossomed at Jace's happy giggle.

It knew now that he was yours.

And you were his, just as he had once written on your upper thigh…

𓆩♡𓆪

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