#if u don’t know Tom.. do I really know you
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your-unfriendlyghost · 3 months ago
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So I’m listening to Rob Lowe’s audiobook about the making of The Outsiders rn (look it’s nice to have smth to play in the bg while working out) and I’m at the part where he and Tom Cruise are both in Chicago, while filming “Class” and “Risky Business” respectively.
Apparently Rob Lowe was excited to see him, cos they were friends on Outsiders, only for TC to say “Look, I want to hang out with you, but Joel doesn’t.”
Like ow that’s so cold man 😭
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akanothere · 1 year ago
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FULL VIDEO HERE
Modern/ Cthulhu AU
Surgeon Tom x Detective Harry
"⅄ıƃ ʍɐs ɐ ƃɹǝɐʇ ƃop. Hǝ ʍɐs qɐp ɯǝpıɔıuǝ. Hǝ pıp uoʇ ɟoɹƃǝʇ ʇɥıuƃs. Iu ʇɥǝ ɐnʇnɯu ɥıs ɔɥıןpɹǝu ʍǝɹǝ ɥnuƃɹʎ ɐup ʍıןp, ɐup ⅄ıƃ ʍɐs ɥnuƃɹʎ ɐup ʍıןp, ʇoo.”
— H.P. Lovecraft & Zealia Bishop, The Curse Of Yig
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m4rzthescenekid · 9 months ago
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Someone help me,,..,,,.,,, I keep switching fandoms it’s cray cray……….
anyways here’s some doodles I just did
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I like this one 🙏🙏
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moral of the blog: do NOT let me anywhere near Tom with the intention of me being his barber because I will actually mess up so bad. I’ll end up giving him either the marge simpson cut or that one subway surfers dude with the really tall flat top (cylinder cut????)
okay peace out yall
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compacflt · 2 years ago
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I just wanted to say as someone who has stumbled across your blog and has read your Wednesday wips and posts about anything topgun related that your thought process and consideration of mav and ice, specifically their political beliefs and relationships with their own identities, is honestly so impressive and cool. You have brought such realism and life to these characters which is just so refreshing to see. idk i just wanted to express how cool and awesome i think that is
Because of the thought into these characters does it make it difficult to like them or understand them if you have differing opinions from them? for me personally i feel like if i were to ever actually have a convo with ice or mav regarding identity politics i would actually start to lose my mind (like how one feels when your dad or fun uncle talks for too long at thanksgiving dinner). If it does make them difficult to like, does that make it difficult for you to write them sometimes?
oh yeah! i think, my ice i really empathize with & really love & really could get along with, once he grows out of the sexism of his teens & twenties, but my maverick drives me crazy. someone sent in an ask a while ago that was like “WHY is cyclone simpson your one true love??” And it’s because i too would absolutely hate maverick & hate working with him lol. people who are overly cocky & un-self-aware & a bit self-centered make me CRAZY. (narrator voice: compacflt is a hypocrite as all these things also apply to compacflt.)
Politically… It’s difficult to say. no one really wants to hear the intricacies of one person’s political journey, which is why i won’t give you mine, but suffice to say—since the start of the russian invasion of Ukraine, and my semi-concerted effort to learn more about the political landscape of modern warfare, my own personal beliefs have shifted a whole bunch. definitely aided in that shift by my top gun fic project that specifically aims to understand the conservative straight-passing male mindset as it relates to military matters… there are many end goals to a project like mine, but one end product is a filter you can take away and hold up in front of your eyes and see the world through it. When writing from the eyes of a conservative straight (passing) white man, your priorities totally shift. I had to write from the perspective of someone who doesn’t care about identity politics. Because they don’t! A core tenet of conservatism is very proudly not caring about that stuff, and being very annoyed when people (usually left-of-centers) make that stuff very visible and want you to care about it! “Don’t shove it in my face,” etc., etc. Don’t force me to care about this taboo, private thing I really don’t care about. It violates my freedoms, or whatever, to be forced to care—or even bear witness to—stuff that i don’t care about. Etc. And then, to be nominally a part of that community that you really, really don’t care about, and then to be told that you have to care about it because of your publicity… people asking you to be proud of something that has had a negative connotation for much of your entire life… that’s not a transformation that happens easily.
Jesus, I could write an essay about this. I have, several times by now in responses to asks over my blog. But there is so much that I could talk about. I think… I really worry that some of my writing falls into the first of the below categories:
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I really try not to romanticize conservatism in my writing—I tried to show that ice and mav’s happiness is the price they pay for their conservatism. They’re actively choosing to be unhappy—but because they prioritize their honor over everything, due to EXTERNAL PRESSURES they cannot control, and which I think are often ignored in the fandom space for one reason or another. The fact of the matter is, in 99% of IPs, characters prioritize something other than their sexualities. It’s never Maverick’s personal identity that is at stake in either Top Gun or Top Gun: Maverick, because he has built himself so impermeably masculine that there are no grounds upon which to question his personal identity. He just isn’t thinking about it. He’s thinking about how to get into Charlie’s pants, how to win the Top Gun trophy, how to uphold his promise to Goose, et cetera. If he’s fucking guys on the side, it’s because he wants to and because hes maverick and he does what he wants without thinking about it—that’s the whole point of his character, from a story-construction standpoint. That’s his archetype. He’s a renegade maverick superstar who is both thoughtlessly brilliant and thoughtlessly dangerous. He’s thoughtless. His priorities are to survive and to look cool doing it, and that’s it. He is a savant in the Naval Air Force, where honor is your lifeblood, who feels he has been dishonored by his own family name, and who willingly joined the conservative post-Vietnam Navy right when/after Ronald Reagan was elected President, and who wears cowboy boots and who disrespects women to their faces, and who is eager to get into altercations with Soviet-Chinese-DPRK-X-second-world-country-coded-but-EXPLICITLY-Soviet-manufactured-Mikoyan-Gurevich-MiG-28s(-F-5s-painted-black)… I’m sorry. In my opinion, the conservatism is baked into him as a character. I find it extremely difficult to separate him from his conservatism, because in some ways his patriotic conservatism is his raison d’etre. IMO if you take that away from him, he ceases to exist.
Same thing with Ice and his unwillingness to openly rebel or go against the grain. That is his whole reason to exist in the story at all. I know that I’m saying this in a fandom space where the whole point is to change characters & put them in different situations (fanfic) but… in kind of a perverse self aware way, as in I know I sound ridiculous and pretentious, i guess i don’t really understand an impulse to change the core tenets of a character irreparably in fanworks. We are shown that ice always goes by the books in TG. Then we are shown that he achieves the fruits of that labor (four stars) in TGM. So he is rewarded for never rebelling, whereas Maverick, who always rebels (but NEVER in a way that challenges his personal identity), has stagnated in the ranks at full-bird O-6. And that’s Ice’s character. That’s what he’s there for in the story—he’s a tool to show us the value system of rank and prestige you earn by following the rules of the Navy. Why take that away from him? That’s his priority! Canonically, that’s his priority and reason for existence! And historically the way to achieve that priority is through conservatism.
And you ask me if it’s hard to like my ice and mav. Yes, but that’s not my choice. The movie already did that for me. They are not, I’m sorry, likable people. I am not a straight white conservative male writing about straight white conservative men to validate my own beliefs—I’m a queer AFAB person of color writing about straight white conservative men because I want to understand the limits of their conservatism. What they do and do not care about, and what it takes to make them care. And from what we are shown in TG… ice and mav would not care about ME. At all. And they would not want to be forced to care about me. Ice’s casual careless dismissiveness… “the plaque for the alternates is down in the ladies’ room…” mav following Charlie into the bathroom… turning the key in the ignition and driving away while pretending not to hear her… “what?? i can’t hear you! 🙉” … they do not care. They have no desire to care.
Again. Maybe I subscribe to a very very old-school and labored and pretentious ideology when it comes to writing… I know a lot of people write just to have fun. I do not. I wish i could, but I don’t. And when you’re not writing to have fun, you don’t have to like the characters you’re writing about. They’re nothing more than tools at your disposal to get your point across more effectively. No, I don’t like them! Of course not! My ice is cruel and cowardly and careless and hypocritical and subservient and weak, and my mav is demanding and dangerous and dismissive and oblivious and so, so, so unbelievably bitter.
And that’s what my story needed, to get my point across. So, shrug. My point was my priority. I don’t care too much about the characters themselves.
Re: icemav & identity politics. Part of hopefully selling this story is the attempt at empathy for the conservative male, to bring this discussion back to the top. Why write fiction at all if you’re not going to write about people different from you, and why write about people different from you if you don’t want to understand them? So… part of trying to understand them was to understand and have empathy for this shift in priorities. Conservative guys do not want to care about labels, or sexual orientations, or, God forbid, discussion of their gender identities. I can kind of see Ice tolerating it by the end… but, there are limits. Again, it’s supposed to be private. I think he’d chafe against getting labeled gay—he wouldn’t want to be called the first gay compacflt, or SECNAV, etc. He can’t say, “i slept with like a hundred fifty women before I even MET the ONLY man ive ever slept with,” because that’s like intensely private personal information!! No one deserves that information, but people still want to call him gay, even though in his head he really is not!!!! Again—from the conservative perspective, it’s a public imposition of left-wing, overly sexualized, too-neat labels and politics onto an area of life that has typically been kept private and respectable—I don’t agree with the conservatism, but I can at least empathize with it. Pre-Maverick’s death (pre-coming to terms with it), it would’ve been shameful & embarrassing to him; but even after coming to terms with it, it’s still not something he “takes pride” in. I think he thinks of it like this—most people aren’t proud of being straight. Like, it’s weird if you are. Same thing with being proud of being white, etc. Why be excessively proud of things you have no control over? Why not take pride in your ACTIONS—for instance, his career that he has actively sacrificed so much of his pride for? I can really empathize with that thought. I don’t necessarily agree, but I get it, especially in his professional circumstances, where he has so much to be professionally proud of, and yet people keep wanting him to publicly care about this private part of him he has no control over and can’t change.
Maverick though. I think he’d be actively hostile about talking about it in public. He Does Not Care. he does not want to care. It’s all an insult. They call him the first openly gay Ace cause he’s married to another man— “okay, but, like, I’m not. Stop calling me that. Neither of us are. Oh my god we have slept with so many women. Stop calling us that.” Ok then what do you want us, the press corps, to call you? First openly bisexual Ace? “No that’s worse!! That’s a word some teenager made up and doesn’t mean anything!! I’m sixty years old stop asking me to talk about this stuff im too old.” What do you have to say to LGBT kids who want to go into the navy? “😎👍 there’s a place for you etc etc. Let’s go back to talking about all the planes I shot down.” Maverick does what he wants without thinking about it. That’s the core tenet of his character. Very conservative. Don’t ask him to care too much.
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Idk. No I don’t like them. But I understand them, if that makes sense. Like their conservative anti-label logic does make emotional sense to me. So that’s part of what I took away from this project, for better or worse… probably worse: I understand why conservatives don’t like the modern over-publicity of sexuality. They don’t care and they don’t want to care. And because they are small-C conservative, my ice and mav still don’t care lol. So, yeah. It doesn’t make them hard to write, because thats why I wanted to write them in the first place.
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formulaonecrumbs · 10 days ago
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Hello :) Could you make one where Lando introduces the reader to two or three of his friends as his girlfriend for the first time? Everything goes well at first, but when he leaves to go to the bathroom, they start making some slightly microaggressive comments about her relationship with Lando. It’s not something obviously bad, but it’s clear they’re doing it to make her uncomfortable like comparing her to his ex or something else
they don’t know about us
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Lando Norris x gf!reader
summary: lando introduces you to his friends for the first time.
warnings: uncomfortable reader, weird friends.
A/N: low-key i was gonna give the friends names of lando’s ACTUAL friends like connor or wtv but i didn’t wanna make them seem like bad guys so we got liam and tom 😃 anyways thank u anon!!! ur req is greatly appreciated. i’m sorry for getting to it so late. i have exams going on (until june btw i could be very inactive sometimes) enjoy, beautiful people ❤️
୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ
you could tell lando was excited.
he kept glancing over at you as he walked a few steps ahead, practically buzzing with nervous energy, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. “you’ll like them,” he said for the third time, smiling at you. “they’re good guys.”
you smiled back, even though your stomach was tight. meeting your boyfriend’s close friends was a big deal—and he hadn’t introduced you to many people yet, so you knew this mattered.
the rooftop bar he picked was quiet, upscale, and lit by soft golden lights. the two guys were already there, standing by a tall table with half-empty drinks. you immediately clocked the way their eyes flicked to you. curiosity. maybe even a little surprise.
“boys, this is my girlfriend,” lando said proudly, arm wrapping around your waist. “this is her.”
you gave them your name and a small smile, and to your relief, they were friendly. they shook your hand, made a few jokes. one of them—liam—asked where you were from, and the other—tom—complimented your dress. everything was fine. lando was glowing, leaning into you like he couldn’t stop himself.
but eventually, he excused himself to the bathroom, brushing a kiss to your cheek before he went. “be nice,” he teased them over his shoulder.
the silence that followed was just long enough to feel… heavy.
then liam laughed, sipping his drink. “he really does have a type, doesn’t he?” he said to tom, not even looking at you.
tom raised an eyebrow. “yeah, remember sofía? same kind of vibe.”
liam nodded. “just quieter, i guess.”
you blinked, unsure what to say.
“not a bad thing,” tom added quickly, smiling at you in that way people do when they’ve already said something loaded. “you seem sweet.”
“lando usually goes for girls a little more… out there,” liam added, like it was helpful. “big personalities, you know?”
“maybe he’s maturing,” tom joked.
you laughed politely, but it didn’t reach your eyes. something about the way they kept circling back to comparisons made your skin crawl. like they were trying to measure you up. like they weren’t just talking to you—they were sizing you against some invisible scale.
“he’s really into you though,” liam said, almost like it surprised him. “must be something special.”
you forced a smile. “he’s pretty special too.”
they exchanged a quick look, and you caught it—just a flash of something. doubt? amusement?
but then lando came back, slid his arm around you again, and everything changed. they laughed louder. tom made a joke about lando’s old haircut. liam brought up a karting story. it all smoothed over so quickly, you almost questioned what had just happened.
almost.
later, when lando drove you home, you were quiet. he glanced at you, brow furrowed.
“they liked you,” he said softly.
you smiled, nodding. “yeah. they were… interesting.”
he didn’t say anything right away. but his hand found yours again, fingers lacing together, and he held on like he knew.
and maybe he did.
you watched the city blur past the window, the lights streaking like watercolors. lando hadn’t let go of your hand since you got in the car. his thumb brushed the back of it slowly, over and over.
“you okay?” he asked again, quieter this time.
you hesitated. the kind of silence where you could either swallow it down or say the thing that’s been pressing against your ribs since the rooftop.
“they were a little weird,” you said finally, still staring out the window. “your friends.”
lando didn’t say anything for a second. just kept driving. “weird how?”
you turned to look at him. he glanced at you, then back at the road, and you could see the tension creeping into his jaw.
“just…” you sighed. “i don’t know. they said stuff about me being like your ex. and that i’m not as loud. or outgoing. or whatever. it wasn’t mean, exactly, but it felt like they were trying to figure out why you’re with me.”
lando’s fingers tightened around yours.
“i didn’t want to make it a big deal,” you added quickly. “but it kind of stuck.”
he pulled into your street and parked, the engine still humming. the dashboard lights painted his face in soft orange.
“i’m sorry,” he said quietly. “i had a feeling. i saw the way they looked at you when i introduced you. like they were surprised.”
you nodded, suddenly unsure if you’d said too much. but then he turned to you fully, hand still holding yours.
“look, they don’t know shit,” he said. “and honestly? they’ve always had this thing where they act like i’m not serious about people. like they know better than me.”
his voice was steady, but you could tell he was angry underneath.
“you’re not like anyone i’ve ever been with,” he said. “not because you’re quieter or whatever bullshit they said. because you make me feel… real. grounded. like i’m actually where i want to be.”
your throat felt tight.
“and if they can’t see that, that’s their problem. not yours.”
you gave him a small, grateful smile. “i didn’t want to ruin the night.”
“you didn’t,” he said instantly. “you were the best part of it.”
he leaned over and kissed you then—soft and sure, like a promise. and when he pulled back, he pressed his forehead to yours and whispered, “next time we hang out with people, it’ll be with the ones who actually deserve to know you.”
you nodded, heart a little lighter.
maybe the night hadn’t gone perfect. but this part—him, choosing you over the noise—meant more than anything else.
THE END :>
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mygnolia · 8 months ago
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to weave my love ⭒ n. riki
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⭒ SYNOPSIS -› Riki is good at many things- dancing, making fun of his friends, playing it cool (debatable.), Hell- he’s even good at saving people from falling buildings without getting whiplash. But the things he’s bad at? Well, it’s asking you out to prom, and trying to balance the shared assignment he has with you…while being Spider-man.
⭒ PAIR -› spiderman!nishimura riki x fem-pres!reader
⭒ GENRE -› fluff, banter, action ⭒ TROPES -› classmates to lovers, idiots to lovers ⭒ WC -› 17k (i’m sorry idk why either.)
⭒ INCLUDES -› SPOILERS FOR GREAT GATSBY, cursing, non-graphic injuries (reader discretion advised), yes i made the patching up with first aid kit trope SUE ME!! takes place in a busy city similar to new york never specified, reader is rich, jake and heeseung are seniors and riki’s a junior, is riki stupid? yes… jake reveals stuff because he is also a little silly, reader wears a red dress!
⭒ GREAT GATSBY -› basically jay gatsby has this weird amt of money but no one rlly knows how he got it (nefarious reasons) and hes been in love with this girl daisy for five years but then she got married to tom buchanan but he gets rich so he can get the house across from her and wistfully watch her and he pines after her like CRAZY but he dies at the end
⭒ REN SAYS...special huge fat kiss to thena @sensitively-taken you will be in the will when im a millionaire THANK YOU for helping me with so much of this I WUV U AND I WLL BE WAITING FOR UR HUENING FIC!!! | LIBRARY
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NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM PRE-ADULTHOOD STRESS, IF THAT’S EVEN A THING.
What exactly does Riki have to worry about as a seventeen-year-old junior in high school? Right now, his most daunting responsibility is catching up on the chapters of The Great Gatsby because the only thing Riki’s actually read from the novel is that the main character shares a name with his best friend and senior, Park Jay. His second most daunting responsibility is handling the fact that with the new seating chart in his Literature class, it means he’s sitting next to the object of his very subtle affections, you. 
See, the problem with having a crush on you is that Nishimura Riki’s committed to thinking that you’re way out of his league, and unfortunately, the boy believes that almost too well. Not only are you minted beyond his wildest dreams (having seen your posts on social media), but you’re hardworking, helpful, and dedicated to your role as student body treasurer. He’s already understood that you’d never go for a guy like him. Maybe someone more like Park Sunghoon, whose parents’ salary matches yours. If Riki lived in a rural estate with generational wealth, handling the whole ‘Spider-Man’ thing might be a bit easier for him, considering he wouldn’t have to try so hard in school. It might even change the fact that Riki dealt with some alleyway criminals last night and is currently catching up on lost sleep, as your English Literature teacher goes on and on about a project on the book you’re reading. 
In class, and even sometimes outside of the classroom, your small tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings has landed you in some awkward situations—like now. 
“I don’t really tell anyone this, but I hate Daisy.” And instead of getting a response, you glance over to see Nishimura Riki slumped on the desk. Without trying to make preconceptions about what could land him in a situation like this, you poke his arm, stifling a smile at how his eyes widen when you’ve caught him rubbing the very obvious sleep from his eye. 
“Sorry,” he whispers, still fighting the post-nap grogginess, “Did I miss anything?” 
(Nope.)
Shaking your head, you return your attention to your teacher as he continues to answer questions. The second Mr. Yoo assigned a report, you wanted to die even more considering the work you had to do on top of the impending due dates. But for it to be partnered? And for you to get seated and paired with the one boy who's known for not caring about school? Maybe things are a little stacked against you, but there has to be a reason why Riki’s somehow still passing all his classes…right?
Considering it’s the last assignment about the book, you’re glad that you already read it so many times to know what you want to put into words. And in retrospect, answering a few open-ended questions about it can’t be that hard—the hardest part would be getting your partner to stay awake in class. 
A small tap at your side makes you turn to face Riki, who you see has frantically written a page full of notes about the project in the past three minutes and how he can succeed. “Can you go over the first part? Sorry…I was…y’know.” 
“It’s a partner project. And we’re partners.” You wince at the awkward wording. 
Great! Riki was caught sleeping and that was your first impression of him for your paired assignment? Riki feels so stupid in front of you right now—in front of your meticulous notes with annotations and proper highlighting. He wants to curl up into a ball when he sees you glance over at his haphazard attempt to look like he was paying attention when, in truth, he was trying to remember the dream he had just ten minutes prior. When you offer him a small smile and nod, leaning over with your notebook in hand, he sighs in relief, thanking whoever it was that let him get away with his naps without the consequence of irritating you afterwards. 
The bell rings when Mr. Yoo stops talking, and you pause, startled by the sound. Instead of leaving, however, you pack your bag and shuffle to his side of his desk, continuing to parrot details about your report in hopes that it all makes sense. You need to make sure he knows what he’s doing. 
“I think one of the questions he mentioned was like ‘Is Gatsby a good person?’ and do you remember how in Chapter Eight…” The rest gets zoned out and forgotten in the boy’s head, because he in fact does not know what happened in Chapter Eight. He doesn’t know what happened…in any part of the book. But he agrees anyway, pretending like he understands what scene you’re trying to explain. What he notices is how thorough and dedicated you are towards ensuring he comprehends what you’re explaining, and although it could be because you don’t want him to fail you both, he chooses to believe you’re doing it because you tolerate him. 
You’re so engrossed in covering all the little details and telling him random tidbits regarding the book that you don’t realize your feet have made it all the way to the cafeteria. “But here, let me get your number. I’ll totally explain more over text.” 
Riki is definitely not freaking out when he silently grabs his phone and hands it to you with the contact page, staring a little longer than necessary at the cute smiley face you added to your name. “Thanks,” he mumbles, forcibly tearing his eyes away from the ten digits of your number, “For helping me with this, too.”
“Of course! The Great Gatsby is a fun read for me. A little hard to read sometimes because of some of the characters, but still easy to understand.” And Nishimura RIki realizes that he has to do well. He’ll read the book five times over if it means gaining your approval. 
Jake notices something a little different about the tuft of black and blonde hair when his friend walks in. The first thing is that he’s actually here, and that you’re next to him, smiling. The boy rubs his eye to make sure he’s not dreaming somehow, but when he looks up again, you’re waving goodbye and joining your friends across the room. 
“Did you get hit with something while fighting a villain that makes you more bold? I feel like I just saw you and ____ talking,” Jake starts when Riki finally joins him with his lunch. 
Riki laughs, shoving Jake’s head out of embarrassment and opening his chips. “It’s just school. Got some project in English and she says we’re partnered.” He looks over at his friend chuckling, rolling his eyes at how Jake pokes at his side and wiggles his eyebrows. 
“I better hear you two are dating by next week.” 
“Who’s dating by next week?” Heeseung places his bag of food in front of them and takes a seat, opening the fast food he got last period and stuffing a fry in his mouth. 
“Riki and ____. Let me have one,” Jake answers, reaching inside the bag. 
Heeseung looks over at his junior curiously. “You asked her out?” And the two older students hear a groan from the boy in question. 
“Me and ____ aren’t anything, for your information.” He prods at the vegetables on his tray and takes a bite before a look of displeasure washes over his face. “You’re both way too excited for two guys who do not have girlfriends.” 
“Hey! You know the girl I’m always fighting with is the reason why I’m single. I have to focus on studying to do well in school to do better than her.” Heeseung’s whining falls on deaf ears as Riki smiles victoriously, seeing how defensive the former got. 
Jake offers him a shrug of defeat. “I got nothing.”
The three of them fall into normal conversation and Riki finally explains everything that happened during English.  “So you’re telling me your plan to ask ____ out went down from 18 months to 6?” And with a nod from the younger, they both groan once more. Heeseung exclaims, “We’re both going to graduate, dumbass. Make the plan go down to like…two months? Please?” 
Jake cuts in before Riki has a chance to respond. “Make it one and a half, so we can see you with a prom date before leaving forever.” 
“You act as if you’re going to die after graduation. It’s like you’re begging to be a super senior.” 
And they’re silenced immediately. 
“Do you think the guy I was with earlier hates me?” you ask on the other side of the room. Minjeong stares at you blankly, waiting for your explanation. “I don’t know if you saw when I walked in but I was talking to this really tall guy with blonde hair and black tips. He seemed really out of it, like he kept staring at me and nodding. I think I scared him off by talking about the book too much.” 
Sunghoon, who is also listening in, opens his neatly packed lunchbox and begins mixing his noodles. “I think you did scare him off, ____.”
“Not helping,” Minjeong interjects, “Just talk to him more and maybe he’ll warm up to you. You two sit together in class anyways, so hopefully he’ll talk more?” 
“I know him,” Sunghoon comments, “Well, sort of. I’m friends with Jake who’s friends with Riki, and it seems like all that boy does is sleep.” 
“Maybe he’s really good at subconscious in-class comprehension?” you try, taking a bite of your sandwich. “I just hope it doesn’t interfere too much with treasurer stuff.” 
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NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE IF HE SWINGS INTO ANOTHER WALL AT 100MPH LIKE HOW HE ALMOST DID TONIGHT.
All he’s had on his mind since school ended till now is how he should probably text you, if he really discarded the slimy acid monster from last week properly, and when the prom theme is going to be released, but there’s something amiss that confuses his spidey-senses and makes Riki much more alert. 
He snaps out of whatever train of thought he had before, focusing on the situation at hand and looking around to follow his instinct. Riki cautiously plants himself on the side of a random apartment building to get a sense of what's going on. A tingle of some sort of in the air permeates the material of his suit and leaves him shivering from the cold. 
He doesn't like it one bit. 
Moving to the side of the building to the top, the boy finally catches a glimpse of something when he gets a decent view of the city and highway systems. Riki knows something’s wrong with the bridge the closer he gets. He zips from one side of the tall, metal tower to the other, crawling down on all fours making sure he isn’t caught. He feels the electric feeling once more, only amplified. It runs up his spine and he wants to slap it, almost like a frantic, summertime bug. The air around him is charged with something he has never recognized before. With a puzzled expression under his mask, Riki continues to investigate the surrounding area. 
Riki finds a lone figure with some sort of attachment to his left arm, like a long glove made out of metal. The bulkiness of it seems to have no impact on his body as the man fiddles with the contraption, and the boy watches with bated breath as the machine fizzes and spurts with electricity. It begins to glow as power concentrates on his plated palm and the superhero sees it for the first time. It’s like a fizz, like a match striking at fire only to produce a quick burst of friction, but it almost feels liquid when he watches the person play with the flickering blue ball of electricity. It dances in the dark in a hauntingly beautiful way, with bolts jutting out from the metal as it spurts and buzzes with a life-like manner. 
A spark. 
“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sound of Riki’s voice from the end of the bridge causes the stranger to look up with wide eyes. Although Riki fully expects it to simply enhance strength or block damage, the immediate strike of blue that flies straight towards him is anything but defensive. With a yelp, he jumps away, this time refusing to show himself. 
What the hell was that?
He knows he should go back down there to change things and get the person and the metal pieces away before it escalates, but when he goes back down to watch, it's ten times worse. The bright blue illuminates the scarred face of the villain as he’s picked up the metal arm–but this time, it’s no longer clunky and sparking, but fused into his arm. 
Riki’s face pales at the sudden change before his body acts on its own and he shoots out a web to stop the man. 
The villain is shocked by the intrusion, but quickly yanks free from the webbing and flicks another bolt of electricity, one that flies much faster now that the metal flows into the arm instead of simply resting on the skin. It’s unlike something Riki has ever seen, something that is so controlled in motion and yet so erratic in nature, and it instills a deathly fear when it grazes his arm he hisses in pain. The sharp feeling springs Riki into action as he jumps away. He’s lucky another bolt isn’t sent his way, seeing how the villain’s too busy marveling at the power of his new gadget.
“You know that fucking hurts, right?” He yells out, cupping his wound. “Maybe leave the gadgets to the kids!”
The man scoffs. “It better have hurt. I sacrificed half my body for this to work.”
“But why?” All Riki wants is answers. Some sort of explanation.
The man charges up yet another bolt, almost like a laser gun is built into the machine. “Less talking, more running, Spiderman.” 
That scared the shit out of him. 
The boy doesn’t have time to think as he jumps out from the dark tunnel to the bridge and up the metal towers—he hates having to fight with people right below. The villain follows in pursuit, almost crumbling the metal with his engineered arm as he hoists himself quickly. Riki continues to jump between the structure to avoid the flashes, trying to get out and apprehend the man as quickly as possible. When he reaches the top, however, he feels death is near as he glances down at the villain below who’s quickly gaining on him. He shoots out webs to slow him temporarily, letting himself fall and swing from the side of the tower to escape. 
What he doesn’t see on the way across the bridge is the flash that misses his cheek and hits his thigh instead. It burns, and mid-air, Riki gives the wound a quick assessment before he lands on the metal, immediately forcing his body to climb. While dealing with his wound, he fails to notice the villain swinging from the bridge support lines to meet him. 
He needs to end this fast before he becomes burnt toast.
Riki doesn’t often rely on instinct to carry him, but he can tell that the villain he’s facing isn’t just a criminal. 
“Land another hit, would you?” he tries to say, his voice strained from the pain in his arm and leg. It doesn’t do much to deter the man in front of him as the arm continues to destroy and bend the metal on the way up. “What are you going to do now, Sparky?”
The man says nothing, charging energy into his metal glove again before aiming and focusing on the target: him. 
Riki jumps off, not able to properly land his web in the right spot as he goes from one section of the bridge to the other. The man behind him looks enraged at the boy’s attempt to escape—so much so that he reaches out with his normal hand to try to grasp the suit when Spider-Man swings past him. Instead of the feeling of fabric, the villain feels sticky spider fluid on his fingers. Riki shoots out a web, one that curls around the villain’s wrist and drags him off the tower. Instead of being able to launch him into the surrounding waters, the man slips from the poorly shot-out webs and falls from mid air into the sea of frantic cars, including one semi truck that collides directly with his arm. In the air, the boy winces when he hears honks and shouts from the impact, hoping it’s the last time he’ll have to witness it.
With his gaze trained on the falling figure, the weakly attached web breaks, and Riki all of a sudden starts falling down as well. He curls up defensively before bracing for impact, curling into himself when he feels the metal dent and the truck driver scream from outside of the parked vehicle, the body of the villain right in front of it. 
Riki staggers, holding onto his arm and thigh the best he can before getting up. With wobbly steps and a small jump, he lands near the unconscious man, whose metal arm is cracked and fizzling—something that Riki knows is bound to leave more scars. 
“Call the police. I’ll get rid of the pieces.” Although Riki wants to figure out who the criminal is and make sure he’s properly apprehended, the gashes in the boy's limbs leave him winded and exhausted. With hot metal scraps bound together by webbing in his hands, Riki swings out and dumps it somewhere rural, trying his best to cover the pieces with the pounding headache that 
Riki revisits the secluded spot under the bridge, looking for clues to the man’s identity, and his expression falls when he notices a lanyard dangling near a trash can. 
His name, his position, and the company. FLiGHT Corp. The company name caught the boy’s eye, and he pockets the item before leaving. 
It seemed like he was a normal research scientist, but Riki’s recollection of the scars and tattered skin leaves him retracting his last thought. He heard something about the failure of a time travel machine at FLiGHT, and if the mass of the incident was anything to go by, he was in the center of it. 
No matter how many times Riki tries to get it out of his head, on the way home, all he can think about is the inexperience he displayed and the lack of response he gave Riki during the whole time. But Riki can’t bring himself to really take away someone’s life—and maybe for that, he’s a horrible superhero. 
He knows he should stop the man before it's too late, and especially with how many self-proclaimed villains there have been, it's not easy to see so many innocent people ruin their lives chasing a power that inevitably consumes them. He knows it’ll only get worse if he lets them run free.
And while the superhero has never been fully honest with himself, there are many times where Riki hates his role as Spider-Man, and wishes that he was just some teenage boy who didn't have the lives of others in his palm. He wishes he didn't have to sacrifice so much to stay behind a mask—and he wonders deep down if there’s anyone else who felt the same. 
His swings lead him across the city above hundreds of lives he has to protect, and he tries to find some semblance of peace. He thinks about how he has his homework due despite having just risked his life, he thinks about how your project is going—and about you. 
In the night under the stars, Nishimura Riki wishes for something just a bit normal. He wishes a good night for himself, but also for you, wherever you could be.
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NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM TRYING TO READ THIS BOOK IN ONE NIGHT.
The Great Gatsby is exactly like how you described it; a little hard to get through but fun with the plot’s eccentric characters. He’s pretty sure he could’ve just used a detailed SparkNotes explanation for the book, but having a crush can make someone do weird things. And in Nishimura Riki’s case, his infatuation has got him reading a novel about morally-skewed characters and rich society to impress you. 
When you come into class barely on time, Riki gives you a confused look when you sit down, but doesn’t comment on it any further. Instead, he takes out his book and tries to act like his eyes weren’t closing shut from exhaustion by the time Daisy was finally confessing how she loved Gatsby. 
The moment Mr. Yoo stops talking, however, Riki isn’t asleep—much to your surprise. He has his book out, pages filled with sticky notes and a whole section of his notebook dedicated to characters (written in bright red to keep him awake) and their traits. 
“I got it.” It’s the first thing he says when you two are left to do in-class work. It’s ominous, and maybe a little too enthusiastic in a high school literature class for a boy who doesn’t even care that much for school, but you’ll accept it with open arms if it means you get a helping hand on your project. 
“Continue,” you tell him slowly, leaning back in your chair to listen to him. And you don’t know why, but a small part of you thinks that the boy who sleeps every period the book was discussed wouldn’t have much to say or contribute to such an open-ended prompt, but life is full of surprises. 
What you fail to notice is how Riki is nervous and his stomach does at least twenty flips before he swallows dryly and starts rambling in hopes to impress you and redeem himself from his embarrassing slumber a few days ago. 
“So you know how our prompt is based on one character and basically all their actions?” he asks, and you nod, absentmindedly thumbing a sheet in your journal. “I’m thinking we should talk about Jay Gatsby because so much is revealed to us about him that we might as well use it to our advantage. Y’know, talking about how the theme of exploitation and secrets is veiled under Gatsby’s desire for Daisy.”
“You don’t think Gatsby’s a good character?” Riki wants to tell you that Gatsby is more relatable than good or bad, but he shakes his head. 
“I mean, not really.” He feels like with those four words, he’s completely changed the trajectory of his relationship with you from a positive slope to completely downhill—and a wave of panic washes over him. “Should I? I mean, I could see him as more redeemable if you gave me examp-“
You wave your hand to quell his worries. “To be honest, I don’t like him either. But he’s an interesting main character to write about, so I think we should go with your idea.” 
To win your approval feels like he’s won at least three fights against a villain in a row without getting any bad injuries—it feels good. And for the rest of the period, you are able to finish a detailed outline of your work for the next few weeks, mapping out sections for each other, and he even gets to see a part of prom planning on a word document you had open. He considers your shared productivity a win when he packs up and bids you goodbye before leaving for lunch. 
One wave doesn’t catch Riki’s attention from across the room. Not even two, or three calls of his name could get Nishimura Riki out of his thoughts, and Jake frowns before moving up in the lunch line. 
“Something’s caught your eye again.” Jake feigns innocence and sighs dramatically as he places the food down next to Riki’s plate. “Could it possibly be our school treasurer?” Jake laughs, leaning over to catch a glimpse of what’s got his friend so entranced and non-responsive.
Riki scrunches his nose, annoyed, but never breaking his gaze from where you’re sitting. “We talked in class–like, a lot,” is all he says, paying his friend no mind. “She’s genuinely so understanding.”
“God, I don’t think you can be any more down bad for her than you are right now.” Jake picks at his food, and despite his concentration directed towards the olives on his pizza, he’s able to dodge the flying loaded nacho that goes his way, even if he wasn’t the one with superpowers.
“Can you shut up?” Riki grumbles, laying his head on his arms as he notices you smile and point to something. “I just got pummeled into a semi truck last week. Let me have this before I die tomorrow.” 
“Very grim,” his friend notes, ruffling the younger’s hair, “I think this is exactly what all of those mental health assemblies that we get are for.” And Riki basically tunes him out, too tired to fight and too used to the teasing remarks to come up with anything useful in response. 
Riki sits up a bit, letting his head rest on his propped elbow as he looks at the school food and touches another nacho gingerly. “Y’know, I read the book for English so she wouldn’t think I’m an idiot.” 
His friend snickers, successfully pulling out yet another sliced olive from the cheese, much to the disgust of Riki. “She probably already thinks you’re an idiot.” 
The superhero debates throwing another cheesy nacho in Jake's face, before deciding to eat it instead. “Don’t say that asshole! You make it seem like I have no chance with her.” 
Jake shoots him an exasperated look that makes Riki break eye contact. “That’s because you don’t.” 
“I’ll prove to her that I’m worth her time.” Riki says somewhat wistfully, still stealing glances from a few tables away. “Maybe I’ll ask her out to prom, show up in my suit. Do that cheesy upside down kiss shit people say Spiderman does.” When his friend raises an eyebrow at him, Riki shrugs. “I will! Well-maybe not the Spider-Man thing, but prom definitely.” 
Jake continues to look at him unconvinced as he takes a bite out of a slice of pizza with mangled cheese. “You barely talk to her in class and you think you can ask her out to prom as Nishimura Riki?” And the younger grins, eyes still stuck on how your eyes crinkle and how your shoulders shake with laughter. 
“Yup.” And his fate is sealed, just like that.
“What’s your project about, anyways? Didn’t you tell me last night that she gave you her number? Must be pretty serious if she wants to text you.” Riki furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head. 
“It’s just tying the theme of the book to one character and writing about how they show it. So we did the theme of money and Gatsby, because it’s easy and mentioned so many times.” 
Jake gawks. “You must really like her,”
“I was planning to read it regardless of who I was partnered with.” 
“Okay- that’s debatable.” There goes another one of Riki’s nachos.
“Gross.” 
He thinks things are going pretty well for you two. The report is being written and your quotes are basically finding themselves, so Riki should give himself a pat on the back for pitching the initial idea for how to go about your assignment. Maybe reading the whole book offered him a few useful pointers, and he goes to sleep that night satisfied with your progress. Maybe Heeseung and Jake were right—maybe he could finally ask you out by prom. 
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NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO SAVE THE CITY FROM YET ANOTHER MONSTER TERRORIZING THE STREETS.
He wakes up the next morning, not expecting his alarm to alert his senses to danger. It rings in his head and makes him feel delirious, trying to shake sleep off as he looks out the window for any visible sign of what's wrong. If he could hear the danger in his head then that meant someone could be hurt, and he could go to school without a few hours of sleep if he worked fast enough, right? 
Riki slips into his suit without much thought and goes to crack his window open, only to look back at his clock and read the horrific time of 6:23AM. 
Who the hell picks a fight with a teenager at this ungodly time? 
Then, he shoots from his wrists, once, twice, and suddenly, he's off, covering more ground through the air in just three seconds than he ever could while walking or running for minutes on end.
The source of his tingling spidey-sense is some large metal centipede creature that was setting off car alarms in a neighborhood near the market. Thankfully, no one was really awake to be caught in the crossfire, but he has to figure out how the hell he's going to catch that thing in...he checks his watch…twenty minutes? 
Hopefully, his instinct will help him win this time—again. 
The web he shoots out does nothing to stop the monster, and considering how it connected them both, the threads only drag the superhero to the edge of the building he was initially watching from. With some yelling and pulling, he finally detaches, and realizes that the odd sizzling feeling in his bonds must be from the same source as a few days ago; Spark. 
He had this gut feeling that a villain as strong as him wouldn’t have been destroyed so easily, but his wounds were so deep and the blood loss so bad from a few nights ago that he couldn’t have truly dumped him in the ocean without fainting or suffering something permanent, and although Riki hoped things in the universe would work itself out, the presence of the giant fifty foot insect alone is proof that things were not in his favor. 
He jumps off the building onto another, working quickly as he strings up a few webs between the houses as a wall for the monster, watching it slide and knock over cars in its wild pursuit. The monster spends a few seconds breaking down the wall of webbing and climbing over it, the many legs easily breaking through. As the superhero jumps across buildings and keeps track of the centipede’s movement, he has no idea why it isn’t going for him, and that makes his job much harder without the attention of the monster. One glance at the direction the centipede is headed in sets off another ding in Riki’s head—but this time, it finally clicks why the centipede is headed away from the boy. 
It’s attracted to the power plant. 
Riki immediately jumps and swings off of a lamp post, using the momentum of gravity and the force of his swing to propel him faster than the slithering creature. Squinting, he holds out his fist and points his pointer and pinky out, following the movement of the centipede as he aims. 
Bam. 
He sends clusters of silky white threads down precisely at the first pair of legs to pin it down. The webs stop the creature momentarily, and Riki doesn’t have time to watch how the body shrinks up and fizzes out with blue shocks as it tries to wiggle loose and malfunctions. This fight would be over soon, and the boy smiles when he jumps down to shoot more webs to apprehend the centipede. It wiggles and sends electricity out through parts of its body, trying to pry itself out. He expects it to simply be a robot of sorts following a mission considering its avoidant behavior, but as he approaches the tail, the monster suddenly swings at Riki, and its mass and speed is incomparable to the boy’s reaction speed. 
Riki lands into a tree and someone’s garage, feeling the crumbling wall falling all over him and the sudden pain blooming in his lower back. 
This fight will, in fact, not be over soon. 
With his superhuman abilities, Riki grabs onto the metal of the car beside him to hoist himself up, coughing from the dust, and jumping over the rubble to see how quickly the centipede creature can get out, without regard for his current state. The sound and rumble of the giant monster is all he needs to know that the traps are effective, but not at the previous capacity. 
The plan is simple: apprehend the legs and crush the head, where Riki assumes the decision-making and programming is taking place. But the monster’s angry and erratic actions throw a wrench in his plan. Its legs move faster, digging into the cement and leaving ruin in its wake as it continues down the road. While both the villain and superhero are fast, the distance between the power plant is finite—and only grows smaller and smaller.  
Although Riki can feel the bruises coming, he runs and swings, hearing the wind in his ears as he catches up to the centipede in no time. He tries the same tactics again–aim, shoot, stick, all the while keeping his distance. Although the monster’s body spans incredibly long, and should carry an immense amount of weight, the way it snaps at Riki’s flying body and sends shockwaves through his core leaves him shivering as his body slams into the ground, coughing. It hurts all over, and it feels like there’s weight on his eyes when he tries to open them and get up. His head is spinning as he staggers onto his knees, clutching his chest as he watches the centipede shrivel and crackle. 
It seems like the voltage produced is a double-ended sword, one that burns up the centipede body as much as it deals damage, and with the way the mutant creeps towards the electricity of the plant, Riki gets the feeling there’s a magnetic pull that forces the mutant to continue to crawl even against its instinct to stop. 
Despite his waning strength, however, Riki knows better than to half finish the job like last time. He creates a net from experience, weaving together the thickest and most durable threads to trap the entirety of the slowly approaching creature. It seems to crawl slowly up the makeshift barrier, knocking its head against the white and spreading the bright blue waves of its energy throughout. The boy watches as the thin white mass absorbs all of it and clings to the creature. It works, finally, after his attempts to nullify its movements, and he knows that despite the ache in his every step, the almost mummified centipede that hangs between several roofs for all the neighbors to gawk at is his sure sign of victory. 
All he remembers is hearing a familiar call of his hero name before his legs give out and his head hits Jake’s chest. 
Holy fucking shit is the first thing Riki thinks when he wakes up. 
He’s not out of his tattered suit and he feels grimy all over, but his body has done wonders in reducing the otherwise fatal injuries he got. No human body should be able to withstand two energy-filled blasts, but his suit and superhuman healing are of greater help than ever in alleviating the damage from his wounds. 
He knows why he’s in his bed with bandages thrown over his open wounds. He knows that every time something like this happens, it’s Jake who shoos away the concerned civilians, telling them he’s a medic. Jake is not a medic—rather, he’s a seventeen year-old boy who knows about his friend’s double life and with all the times he’s saved Riki, someone might as well dub him the greatest medic of all time. 
The clock on his bedside table has only served as a bearer of bad news. He looks over to see how it’s practically midday, and he’s missed yet another day of school from fighting crime. He’s in no condition to get up or get his bag, seeing how his hair is frizzy and his cheek has a cut that would warrant questioning. It seems only fair that he stays absent, and before he falls back asleep, he only prays you aren’t too mad at him for leaving the seat next to you empty.
But you aren’t mad, just worried. The soreness in his muscles doesn’t go away though, and he groans when he sits up in his bed, with bandages around his arms and an ice pack discarded next to him. 
He’s most definitely not coming to school like this. 
While you bore holes into the clock hanging off the wall, that doesn’t speed up the time. Two minutes pass, then another minute. As your classmates find their partners and begin discussing, you notice how the room gets louder with the due date looming near. It’s the first time you’re alone without the familiar boy beside you, and something hangs low in your chest when you put in a pair of earphones and open your laptop. 
Riki’s absence should have no effect on you. After all, you’re both just high school students who’ve talked once or twice, and yet you still look over at the empty chair. Staring doesn’t make Riki appear, though, and you return to your edits. It feels empty without his insight, or without him asking you to help him with a passage. Riki was your solution to all things boring. If he wasn’t doing his work, then you two were laughing at something on his phone. And if you agreed to both do something other than the report, then you could ask for an extra opinion when deciding prom details. There was something freeing about working with him that attracted you. Riki knew how to lighten the mood on days that weren’t so good for you, but he also worked hard and let loose at the same time. There was a perfect balance in Riki’s life that you aspired to have; it was a good mix of playful, dedicated, and fun all in the same vein. 
The words blend together on your screen. Jay Gatsby this, Tom Buchanan that, it all looks monotonous the more you keep trying to read and comprehend what exactly you’re talking about. 
Before class is dismissed, Mr. Yoo steps to the front of the classroom to gather everyone’s attention. He introduces your new novel for the next month, explaining yet another large assignment associated with the text. 
Truth be told, you don’t pay attention to any of it. 
The only thing you remember to do is to grab extra copies of the printed graphic organizers, as you get out of your seat and rush out when class ends in pursuit of one specific boy. 
“Sim Jaeyun!” The call of his name diverts Jake’s attention from his phone to your waving arm as you weave through the students and finally reach him. 
“You can just call me Jake,” he explains, “what’s up?” 
You begin to reach into your backpack, trying to feel for your folder, and pull out a few sheets. “These are for Riki.” 
Jake cheers internally for his friend who’s busy recovering at home. “What, you got a crush on him or something?” 
He tries to play it cool by teasing you, but the smile you bite back leaves the boy questioning if there really is anything going on. Jake knows better than to tell you anything about Riki’s feelings, and opts to instead grab the papers and to thank you for looking out for his friend. 
“Is Riki okay?” You have to know, just to make sure he’ll be here tomorrow to cure your boredom. 
What Jake says is much different than the nonchalant wave and half grin he gives you. “He’s just bedridden.” 
“That’s pretty serious! Did he come down with anything?” He seemed fine yesterday, so what’s the catch?
He blurts, “He just got badly hurt.” 
Immediately, Jake knows he’s fucked up. 
Your confusion and silence answers him far more than words ever could–he basically hears the gears turning slowly in your head.
Jake weakly defends, “His parents had a fight with him because he hit his head or something. He’ll be fine by tomorrow. Just bedridden from sadness, y’know?” 
The look you give him is unconvinced, but when Heeseung pats him on the shoulder and waves to you, the boy realizes that maybe staying quiet would’ve been the better decision. 
“I’ll see you later, ____.” And he’s off, waving half-heartedly and dragging a very confused Heeseung out of the cafeteria. 
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NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO WAKE YOU UP AS GENTLY AS HE CAN.
Ever since March started and flowers began to bloom, your energy seemed to do the opposite, dwindling until Riki catches you mirroring his frequent in-class action: sleeping. And it worries him beyond belief, because you’re not the type to fall asleep like… ever. However, Riki does not have the heart to wake you up, even if it’s with a little nudge that you probably barely feel with how light he taps. It breaks his heart to have to ask you to review what he has done, because the bell is about to ring and the teacher might just send you to detention if he catches you off-task. 
The allergies always make Mr. Yoo irritable, and Riki knows not to get on his nerves. 
Your eyes flutter open to the pokes and prodding from none other than Nishimura Riki, who gazes at you softly when you adjust to the bright classroom setting once more. 
Panic settles in. “Wait- how long was I sleeping for?” 
He shrugs and scrunches his nose, not giving you an answer as he finishes scribbling something in his notebook. 
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Your hand squeezes into a fist at the frustration that you’ve let your partner down. 
And yet, Riki seems to be unfazed, frowning when he sees you stressing out. “Don’t ever sweat the little things, yeah? If there’s anything you ever need to talk about–trust me, I know what it’s like to have a lot of pressure on your shoulders.”
Smiling at him, you respond with, “Thank you, really.” 
Being treasurer is daunting in the spring. It’s full of requests, forms, and small tasks that leave you spent by the end of the day. “But,” you glance at the clock to see just how much time is left, “how’d you know?” 
He motions to your open computer with a now dark screen. “I saw your document pulled up. ____’s tasks or else she will be kicked out of student government,” he taunts, snickering when your eyes grow wide with embarrassment and you lightly nudge his shin with your foot in warning. 
“It’s not polite to snoop,” and although you say that, you catch something in your peripheral vision. It’s a few drawings of a figure and gadget drawn, shaded from rigid shapes with small descriptions pointing to different places. You weren’t sure what was more surprising; how good the drawings were, or the subject of his imagination. 
Weird. Inherently, there was nothing wrong with Riki drawing a villain, and you chalked it up to him being creative. Nothing more, nothing less. 
He puts his hands up in surrender at your last comment, his grin showing anything but. Just one look at the boy makes you realize that everything you’ve just thought about is foolish. 
There’s no way he’d have time to be a villain and a student. With one final thought, you let your raging thoughts rest and focus on the present; him. You’ve seen his hair messy, especially after his naps, but when Riki tries to style it like how he did today, you pay more attention to the streaks of blonde and how he often hides behind his bangs and scrunches his nose. It’s cute. He’s cute.
The truth is, you enjoy being around him like this, joking around and never worrying too much about your responsibilities and expectations. It’s refreshing. Being around Riki gives you the feeling that things will be okay in the end. 
You snap out of your thoughts to see that his desk is empty, while your’s hasn’t changed one bit.
“You’re going to sell prom tickets now, right?” He makes small talk before leaving for lunch, closing the notebook you were suspiciously eying before slipping it into his bag. 
“Yup,” you answer, popping the ‘p,’ “I’ll see you later,” and you two part ways.
All the long lines and constant distribution of change doesn’t allow much wiggle room for you to daydream. As time goes on, the ticket-selling line grows smaller and smaller, but the only thing you truly care about is eating the lunch your parents packed you. Your sandwich is probably sad and soggy now that there are only a few minutes of lunch left. When you finally sign off one last time after triple checking the forms are all correct, you let out a sigh, leaning back and finally getting a break. 
Then, it hits you that you’re not even sure if the boy you’re fawning over is attending the biggest event of the year, and you feel stupid for forgetting to ask. 
-
Yesterday was a rookie’s mistake–today, you’d make sure you get an answer from him.
“Are you going to prom, Riki?” is the first thing you ask when he sits down, grabbing his book and laptop with a little too much enthusiasm. 
“I’m thinking about it.” Yeah, whatever confidence he had when convincing himself he’d ask you out isn’t serving him well at this moment. Quite frankly, Riki feels lame as ever trying to be nonchalant around you. “You?” 
“I’d have to set up, so I would be there, yes. But whether or not I have a date is another story.” You smile to lighten the mood, but Riki watches you and nods, focusing back on signing into his laptop and getting his notes for the new book you’re reading. 
“Well, you’re not the only single one here.” And he wants to reprimand himself for saying something without thinking. “If someone asked, would you say yes?”
You think about it carefully, really because you don’t have anyone in mind when it comes to prom if Riki’s not planning on going. “It’d have to be someone I know—someone I talk to somewhat regularly. I’d be nice to be with someone who doesn’t make it awkward.”
Nishimura Riki might die from over-thinking if he keeps on wondering whether or not he fits that description to a tee.
RIKI'S TO-DO LIST BEFORE PROM
☐  talk to ____ regularly 
☐  don't make it awkward 
☐  be..cute? 
The boy decides that his superhuman responsibilities might be easier to complete than any of those three things. 
He switches the subject to stop his head from hurting too much. “Did you finish the report?” 
You still, and Riki’s question reminds you of the report looming over your head. In your defense, you two hadn’t brought it up much in the past week, and he didn’t seem to worry over how much of your time was spent emailing teachers or making spreadsheets. Although caught off guard, you’re quick to respond with, “What did we have to finish? I thought we were done since last week, but if there’s anything else-” 
“Sorry,” he rushes out, biting his lip, “I meant, if you finished reading it.” And the answer is no, you haven’t read it since your last edit on it three days ago. 
Within a few clicks, you find the document and scroll to the bottom, seeing the small note that Riki left that said ‘let me know how it looks.’ It’s sweet to know he thought about your input as much as you did his. 
“While some can agree that Gatsby’s rise into high society was sketchy, Gatsby still retains the same reserved character from years ago, and doesn’t manipulate others into success or use his money for nefarious purposes. It’s not like he changed after his wealth, and it could be argued Gatsby loved Daisy until his last breath and was willing to die as long as she was happy, emphasizing the theme of sacrifice. 
So, is Jay Gatsby a good person? The question targets the morality of a character who many can empathize with. Those who are charmed by his overwhelming love for Daisy would say that he’s committed textbook crimes, but focus more on the intent behind it. To pine after someone from a distance isn’t easy, but to pursue her after years of separation is even harder. It’s universally agreed, however, that love as a driving force doesn’t nullify what he’s done to others and the dirty schemes he’s enacted to gain the power he has. Therefore, Gatsby makes for an interesting main character, and highlights just how twisted a system around money can be.” 
The last page is–for the most part–his writing, and your admiration for him grows when you finish reading and scroll to hit your Works Cited page.
“It’s good,” you tell him wholeheartedly, “Didn’t think you had it in you.” 
Riki cracks a smile at your light teasing, soaking up your praise. 
“Now you know.” He shrugs. And he can only hope that you like him as much as you like his literary skills. 
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NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE COMES TO THE REALIZATION THAT HE IS EXACTLY LIKE JAY GATSBY,JUST WITHOUT THE MONEY—DESPERATE FOR THE GIRL OF HIS DREAMS, DYING YOUNG, AND A FRAUD HIDING BEHIND SECRETS.
Nevermind the last one, he has to hide when he has an identity to protect as the city’s only superhero, but Riki feels his heart sink to his heels when he read a few weeks ago how much Gatsby simply adores Daisy. When Gatsby died, he scoffed, closing the book with a sudden disinterest. If he were the male lead, he wouldn’t have been laying in a pool for target practice. Maybe being a superhero teaches you how to avoid being easy bait for all your enemies, or maybe Gatsby was too carried away with love to think straight. 
Fighting crime gives you insurmountable experience with sneaking around, but it wasn’t something he could just teach to anyone. When he gets this horrible gut feeling that something’s happened to you, he just knew something was wrong. He might not be easy to catch, but for anyone else? Definitely.  
For everyone else, prom was a month away, but for you, it was three weeks of talking to your advisor and president, arguing with your other board members, and sitting behind that damn money box for another five days to sell tickets. For you, it was realizing that you were supposed to buy streamers and balloons yesterday on your way home from school. It was the thinly veiled disappointment in your board member’s texts when they told you they were at a loss for words. ‘I’m sorry, and I know you’re busy, but how could you forget? Prom is so important for all of us. What if they don’t have what you need anymore?’ It all repeated in your head as you bit your lip in frustration and slipped on the first pair of shoes you could find. Although it was dark and dangerous, you could care less if it meant avoiding the passive aggressive comments you’d get tomorrow during your meeting.
There it is again: that little tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings. 
You yelp when you feel someone grabbing your wrist and pulling you in, muffling your screams as he pulls you along. To see him on the news was worrying, but to see Spark in person with your life on the line is even worse. 
Tears spring to your eyes as you struggle against the metal to no avail, and you curse every previous moment you spent worrying about balloons rather than your safety.
Spark suddenly stops, shoving you against the wall before his hand grabs a brick with his metal arm, beginning to climb. “Don’t let go.” And you don’t think twice before holding on.
The city view would be beautiful if you weren’t hearing your heartbeat in your ears or if you weren’t dangling from the railing of some company building, trying to wiggle yourself free of the rope around your wrists. 
Spark speaks up, drumming his fingers on the railing next to you. “You wouldn’t happen to know where your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is, would you?” And you furrow your eyebrows, genuinely questioning for a moment if he really knew how the superhero operated. 
A voice from across the street puts a temporary hold on your thoughts, and you glance up to see a flash of blue and red soaring through the air, followed by a groan and a beam of light next to you. Seeing Spark’s powers right in front of you spurs you into action, yanking at the rope and trying to take tiny steps away from where they were fighting.
“From what I’m seeing, you wanted to hold someone hostage because you’re not feeling too good, huh?” Spider-Man shouts as he shoots out webs and blocks hits. You shake your head in partial disbelief of how unserious he is, but also how unbelievable all of this seems. “You tried to take a potion or something? I’m going to tell you this now, but these usually don’t work.” 
Riki’s assumption is right, and considering how Spark now has a leg and arm from metal instead of just the arm, the procedure for the additional limb couldn’t have been easy. The superhero still proceeds with caution, making sure to pay attention to anything new as he dodges and fights back. 
The villain immediately gets back up, stumbling for a moment before he regains his stance and runs towards the boy. You hear the clanging of fist hitting metal from their fight, and considering the difference in height and build, you’d expect Spider-Man to be easily flung to the side, but he holds his weight in battle. 
Riki aims for around the left shoulder, where an abundance of stitches cover the skin and fuse the metal into muscle. He lands a hit, and almost another one, before a punch to the side knocks him from his momentum. The boy wheezes when his back makes instant contact with the ground, rolling and getting up before Spark has time to shoot. 
He notices how quickly the gadget generates electricity now. Before, the beams took longer, and were easily predictable, but now, it glows bright for a moment before it fires directly in Riki’s path. The boy dodges the first, but the second one almost hits the top of his head before he ducks and creates distance. 
From the roof-top, Riki scans his surroundings before making the split-second decision to jump. 
He swings to the other side of the building, keeping you in his peripheral vision as he works on apprehending the villain in front of him. They spring into yet another fist fight, with Riki’s agility easily letting him avoid punches and land precise hits to make the previous injuries even worse. 
You think Spider-Man has the upper hand in this, seeing as how none of Spark’s punches seem to slow down the superhero, but you hear something loud before you can register it. 
You figure out what happened after Riki stumbles and suffers a blow to the stomach, sending him tumbling to the edge of the building. Spark knew that Spider-Man was avoiding his left arm—he knew that one wrong move paired with the tungsten material would have a lasting effect on the superhero’s fist. 
Riki coughs from the impact before his spidey-sense rings, pulling him back into battle as he runs as fast as his body can take him. 
You. He still needs to save you. 
With renewed vigor, he continues to avoid the flying sparks as he ducks between structures and uses the terrain to his advantage. He can tell, though, that the villain is slowing down. The shots are less accurate–a telltale sign that the enhancer Spark tried is working against him. 
Between all of the chaos, Riki finally lands a proper web, yanking as hard as he can to pull Spark to the ground. He stumbles, grasping at thin silk before Riki lets go on his side. The villain’s balance is off, giving the boy an advantage as he closes the distance, hopping over a thrown slab of metal and landing a solid kick into Spark’s ribcage. As he stays down, Riki continues to aim for muscle and flesh, his head spinning as he packs punch after punch to keep the villain apprehended. 
Spark’s body–curled into itself to absorb the hits the best that he can– hides the growing blue flash that he’s slowly charging up with his remaining power. The moment it escapes from under his abdomen, Riki directs his efforts towards avoiding the electric glimmer. The villain rolls over, his body tattered from the consistent injuries, and he fires what seems like an intense bullet of energy. It zips by the boy’s cheek, cutting the mask and leaving blood to run down in its wake. Time slows down as the superhero tries to process the unlocked speed of the burst, and Spark loses focus marveling at his new abilities. Never before had either of them seen power so concentrated, and it inflicts both fear and excitement. 
He lifts his arm, the other holding it up for support, and Spider-Man notices the fizzle of bright blue. Riki’s about to jump out of the way, preparing for yet another high-speed bullet, but before Spark fires, something clicks. The arm doesn’t directly point to Riki–but it skews off to the right.
Except, he’s no longer aiming for Riki in the split second that the boy blinks. He’s suddenly aiming at you, where your hands are tied to the railing and your feet are dangling from the bent metal that holds you precariously over the edge, leaving a fifty foot drop in its wake. When you see the blue energy in the villain’s palm growing slowly bigger, you pull at the rope desperately with zero regard to the tender rawness of your wrists. 
In your attempt to somehow break the rope, your cry of fear snaps Spider-Man into action. 
Riki pushes his sore body to jump as quick as he can, leaping across the rooftop to the building over. He easily avoids the metal railing, grabbing onto your arm as he yanks hard on the rope, the force of it separating a piece of metal from the railing. He immediately jumps, sending out a web to swing him back up. It all happens in a flash–first, you were bound to the edge about to fall to your death, and all of a sudden, you’re tightly pressed against Spider-Man’s chest with your bound wrists still attached to the metal. Shutting your eyes, you trust Spider-Man entirely, closing your eyes to avoid seeing just how far up you were. Wind rushes in your ears and leaves your stomach fluttering with butterflies until the superhero sets you down on a secluded rooftop. 
“Please,” he begs, “don’t leave. I’ll be right back.” 
You’d be a fool to do anything but wait. 
Riki checks on you one last time before diving down, springing himself back up with another web. The damage from the blasts is recognizable even from far away, and yet, he notices the reflective shine of a metal arm on the edge of the building before Spark lets go. 
To Riki, Spark is dead after dropping from a fall having taken that much damage, but he hears no impact. Making haste, the boy fails to find any figure no matter how hard he looks, but Spark’s laboratory has to be here somewhere. The badge from a week ago was stuck on Riki’s mind, and he could only imagine the reasons why he pursued this life. Was he recreating something? If he needs to power some sort of machine, then the heart of the city is a perfect place to harness the electricity for any large scale project. As much as he wants to dedicate the rest of the night to searching the city for some sort of clue, the fact that you’re still stranded on that rooftop after having just experienced a life-changing event blares like an alarm in his mind. 
He quickly leaves, returning to where you’re seated.
Without the fear of falling to your death from earlier, you were able to focus on undoing the knots from the rope. Red scratch marks and irritation bloom on your wrist, and the reality of it all happening still hasn’t settled in. Despite not being harmed once, the fear and incessant pounding of your heart overwhelms your senses, and it leaves you heaving with confusion. 
A pair of footsteps only become apparent as Riki walks closer, taking a seat beside you and letting out a large sigh. He stares at the stars silently as if he doesn’t have a cut on his cheek and bruises waiting to paint his skin purple–as if he isn’t hiding his true self under a facade. 
“You’re not hurt, are you?” You shake your head, grateful that Spider-Man was the reason you got away without a real injury.
“Thank you, really, for saving me. I don’t know how you manage to do it.” 
Riki chuckles under the mask. “Eh, you get used to it,” you hear Spider-Man say. “You fight a couple bad guys, get over a fear of heights and eventually you get the hang of things.” 
Scoffing, you gently rub at your wrists to ease the redness. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t been taught a crash course on how to avoid being supervillain bait just yet.” 
“Maybe you should learn it sometime,” Riki responds absentmindedly, “someone like you shouldn’t have been out so late doing whatever it could’ve been.” 
Sighing, your mind drifts off to think about the balloons and streamers that are not in your hand. “I had stuff for my upcoming events.” 
He knew about all of it when you’d explain your cryptic reminders and notes on your computer, but he still feigns curiosity. “What upcoming events?” 
“Just prom,” and he hears just how strained it makes you. 
Riki tilts his head in faux confusion. “What do you have to do for prom?” 
He notices how you immediately slump, as if the mere mention of prom deflates your happiness. “It’s only a few weeks away, and I was supposed to get decorations for our venue yesterday. I just wanted to slip out before my parents noticed.” 
Despite the fabric over his eyes, Riki’s expression shifts from surprise to pity when he understands your stakes. “You still need to be careful. Is your student council strict?” 
“Not strict necessarily, but judgemental–I ran for the position because I thought I could help my school raise funds and find more opportunities, but it just feels like no one truly wants to try anything new.” You wave it off as if it’s not that important, as if it isn’t the reason why you find yourself stressed so often. “I just don’t want to disappoint or give people something to talk about.” 
Despite not being involved with school the same way you are, the boy next to you resonates with the fear you currently face. The fear of letting people down was a large part of why Riki continued to put on that mask and step into the most dangerous situation of his life; he never wanted to sit down to hear the news that Spider-Man quit. 
So he keeps doing his job, even if some days are harder and some fights aren’t worth winning–just like what you do. 
“Yeah, I get that,” he tries to console, “You must be doing a lot for everyone around you, and I’m sure a lot of people appreciate what you’ve done. Don’t beat yourself up too much, yeah? You’ll always have me.” He smiles, but he knows you don’t see it. You’re looking at the stars, trying to calm your mind and return to your life before everything happened. 
You glance over at Spider-Man, wondering if he’ll truly be around for you when you need it. “If I need to talk to you, should I step out of my house past 8PM again?” 
Riki chuckles, watching clouds slowly dim the moon’s glow in their path. “If I’m not fighting crime, I’ll show up at a moment’s notice.” 
There’s no way he means it, but you grin, feeling a lot of the pressure and stress of earlier slowly wash away. After all, nothing happened to you–Spider-Man made sure of it. Maybe things really were going to be okay. 
“Let’s get you home, yeah? Don’t you have stuff to do anyways?” 
You shrug, nothing really coming to mind. As you get up, you remember having to run a plagiarism check on your work, and how Riki told you to text him when you got home after your student government meeting. 
Riki. Spark. Spider-Man. 
“Wait,” you tell Spider-Man, sitting back down on the cement, “I need to talk to you about something else, too.” 
“It’s not like my dinner’s getting cold,” the superhero mumbles quiet enough that you can’t hear. 
“There’s this guy,” you start, paying no mind to how dirty your clothes are getting when you cross your legs. 
Spider-Man scoffs, looking off into the distance, and it makes you believe he has to be your age or older. “You have a crush on him, or something?” And a whole tidal wave of deja vu hits you in the chest. 
‘He must be badly hurt’ isn’t just something people say. People don’t just draw insanely detailed drawings of Spark’s arm and machines without notes to follow unless they knew. People wouldn't just randomly miss school without any impending signs. You’re sure of it–the tired naps in class, the random drawings of superheroes and superhumans alike, or how awkward he could act–it all makes sense.
Your classmate, aka Nishimura Riki, aka the guy who you’ve questioned if you had a crush on for the past few days, might be a villain. 
The swirling feeling of trepidation in your stomach leaves three words running around your head. 
What. The. Fuck. 
Although you tried so hard to stop thinking about it, Jake’s comment from before rubbed you the wrong way. It was sometime last week where you couldn't get your mind off of the implications of his words, but that feeling was brushed underneath your responsibilities. 
Until now. 
“Yeah, there’s this guy,” you breathe, feeling your chest constrict, “Nishimura Riki. I think he’s Spark.” 
His blood runs cold. 
“You think this…why?” 
You take a deep breath, trying to organize all your thoughts. “Well, first, it was his friend, Jake. He said that Riki was badly hurt, and I was really confused at first, but tried to let it go.” 
Riki was going to strangle his best friend. 
“And then, I was looking at him in class, right? And keep in mind, he’s pretty cute, and we sit next to each other, so I just noticed how good his hair looked that day, but his notebook was out, and I saw all these drawings of Spark. Like, the arms, the metal things, even the projectiles! Who would know the ins and outs of that thing if it wasn’t Spark himself?”
He didn’t know what to think about first; the fact that you gushed about him for the first time, or if he should even tell you that Spider-Man would know those things, too. 
“And sometimes, I notice he’s a little awkward around me. I can’t explain it. It’s like he’s paying attention to me. That must’ve been why he captured me.” He wants to laugh at how damn close you are to figuring it out, but in reality, nothing is funny about the situation. 
Nishimura Riki is actually listening to this, right now, as Spider-Man–not Spark. The awkwardness, though? It was his crush on you, and was not superhuman related in the slightest.  
“I don’t know,” he attempts to divert, pretending to focus, “I saw a badge for FLiGHT. You know the company that’s been making time traveling machines? I saw a glimpse of his name and face. It’s not that guy you mentioned.” 
You raise an eyebrow. “And you haven’t gotten him caught?” 
“Villains aren’t easy to find, y’know. It’s not like playground hide and seek,” Riki defends, crossing his arms. 
You shrink in your spot, feeling sheepish for questioning a superhero so bluntly. 
“Plus,” he continues, “Spark has never had a hostage. Wouldn’t it be pretty mean of that friend of yours to kidnap a girl from his class?” 
“Yeah—that makes sense. Thank god,” you breathe, closing your eyes momentarily. “Then what do you suspect all that evidence leads to? Maybe he’s a secret agent?” 
“I think,” Riki continues to keep up his clueless facade, “Your friend might just be clumsy. Or creative. I mean, maybe he went through a break-up?” Nice one, Riki. 
You shake your head. “No, there’s no way he has a girlfriend. You’d think I like guys who are taken?” Scoffing lightly, you then remembered that Spider-Man really would have no idea who any of you are. 
He shrugs and stands up stretching before motioning for you to follow him. “I have no idea what you high school kids do. Come on, let’s get you home.” 
As you hug him tight, the cold air whips around your body and leaves goosebumps in their wake. You barely open your eyes from the fear of seeing yourself inches from hitting a building or up in the air. Spider-Man only yells his confirmation after asking how to get you home, finally placing you on the ground outside of your large gate. 
“Thank you for saving me tonight.”
“Anytime. Figure things out with that friend of yours, and don’t go out late, okay?” You nod and take his words to heart. 
“Goodnight, Spiderman.” 
—-
Nishimura might die. One, because he has this horrible guilty feeling in his stomach, and two, because of a villain. 
Yesterday, he ignored the salmon and rice bowl that waited for him back at home, choosing to follow the coordinates he saved on his phone after he took you home. It led him to a seemingly harmless auto-shop, with an arrow on his GPS pointing to a garage that was shut down completely with nails and blocked with boxes. The exterior pointed to it being abandoned, but Riki suddenly saw some light coming from a makeshift above.
The boy scaled the wall as quietly as possible, glancing into the source of the whirring. He caught small glimpses of something–metal, glowing, blue. 
Or at least, for a few seconds it was on until the power went out. 
The voice that complained from inside the room sounded identical to the man Riki fought. Spark grumbled, turning on a flashlight and quickly waving it around. Riki ducked from the window and held his breath, waiting for the man to suspect something. 
Nothing. 
One lightbulb slowly flickered back on, and then the other dingy light followed. The space was cramped with the metal equipment in the middle, resembling what Riki had seen in the news. 
He was right–it was the same time travel portal that was ruined from a few months ago. 
Spider-Man continued to observe the man as he worked and drilled, plugging certain wires or pausing momentarily to read from a journal. To anyone, it’d seem peaceful, like some sort of renovation project. But in reality, it was so much more than that. 
Riki searched for any sort of information about the machine, trying to see what exactly was left to do until his gaze landed on something. 
There was some sort of date on a bright pink sticky-note, and Riki’s eyes widened when he finally comprehends it. 
The machine was scheduled to be completed tomorrow. 
-
A street lamp next to Riki dies out—which was a clear sign that something was powering up. From the dark, he hears the metal from the same place as last night moving again, and he knows that Spark has left. His presence sends anyone down the street and immediately running, leaving the area for only them two. 
Riki finally sees the completed metal build. Half of his body is wrapped in or replaced with metal parts as he sets down the metal portal, beginning to push it in the direction of the power plant. 
A truck or car would make things much easier, but whatever.
Riki wants to cry from fear and run away. He wants to leave and pretend he never saw anything from last night. 
He’s going to die fighting Spark and he will quite literally a) never finish highschool and get that stupid diploma, b) finish explaining how Gatsby is not a good person and is naturally selfish, and c) he’s never going to tell you how he’s had a small crush on you ever since he saw your cute campaign video as to why you should vote y/n l/n for student body treasurer last spring. 
“You sure that thing works?” Riki asks, jumping into action as he sends webs to immobilize the machine. 
“You’re annoying, you know that?” Spark sends a projectile in the superhero’s direction, hitting the wall behind him instead as Riki jumps out of the way.
With another duck mid-air and the roof of a flying car dangerously close to his nose, Riki thanks the dance practice he does for his flexibility as he shoots another web and swings away. 
Spark is uncontrollable by now, sucking the light from street lamps and fizzing wires in his wake. He has no idea how he’s supposed to get in contact with the villain like before. The body of his suit fizzes with bright electricity that sizzles and pops. It illuminates Spark’s figure, making him easy to spot, but not so easy to defeat. It’s an overload of power, causing the voltage to escape between the joints and gaps of the metal pieces in his suit. And Riki can feel it; the air is heightened and so are the stakes of this fight—and with how the man that stands in front of him looks upgraded and menacing, he knows only one person can make it out of this fight alive. 
“You injected the city’s ‘Gas and Electric’ into your system or what?” Riki calls out, making light of the situation. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s scared out of his wits seeing the six foot figure with blue and white shooting from every crack, looking like a nightmare to touch.
Riki avoids a few more angrily thrown objects, using the momentum of his jump from the side of the building to zip from the top of a yellow fire hydrant to go from one side of the street to the other. “You’re slow!” He taunts, tucking in his legs to avoid a shot of electricity directed at him. 
The screech of metal from the nearby hydrant can be heard as the top flings off, making Riki lose his anchor/ Before he can process it, instead of smoothly landing on the building, he crashes into it faster than expected, groaning when his back makes contact with the glass and he tumbles into the living room of someone’s apartment. 
“Fuck,” he curses, fighting his aching limbs to get up once more. 
And the solution hits him. Literally. 
When he steps out and quickly attaches a web to the top of the building, he’s met on the way up with a splash of water from the hydrant to his face, and Riki splutters as he wipes his mask, regaining focus as he lands on the concrete and hides behind the ledge. 
Water. If he can get it in contact with Spark and pour enough water on the right spot, the excess of electricity blazing from his mechanical body should work against him. 
“Too scared? You should know better than to run away.” The superhero rolls his eyes, crawling away silently to avoid being seen by Spark. Riki does his best to look around for something, and finds a black flower pot in the corner, using a web to grab it before he scales the side of the building and runs away while Spark is distracted as the villain also climbs the wall to face him there. But when Spark climbs the ledge and scans the premise, Riki is nowhere to be seen. 
Instead, Riki swings across the street and fills the pot with water, heaving the extra weight as he shouts out from the sudden pain in his side. He stumbles on the pavement, crying out from the injury as the pot falls with his whole plan. 
Maybe this is where Spider-Man dies. 
He sucks in a deep breath before rolling from his back onto his knees, ignoring the wound to pick up the flower pot. The hydrant still shoots out water, and the superhero rushes towards it, causing Spark to follow. He narrowly avoids another shot from behind him, reaching the yellow hydrant before dropping the pot on the ground. Spark is th 
While Spark has always been intelligent, Riki could tell that the man didn’t fear the water, believing he’d be invincible to the elements now that his suit was perfected. There was something off, Riki could tell, and he would make sure to use it to his advantage. Spark was uncontrolled, and his powers drastically decreased the more he used them. There’s no way his body isn’t in overdrive with how recklessly he’s been letting himself get hurt. 
Riki uses a web to get himself on higher ground instead of fighting, waiting for the supervillain to follow. If he could get Spark off the edge and fall into the growing puddle of water, it should slow him down. 
Spark scoffs. “Run away, then. Like you always have.” Riki hears the wall crumbling under the villain as he climbs within seconds, immediately preparing to fight when he makes it onto the rooftop. But Spider-Man was also prepared, jumping from his crouched hiding position and attempting to catch Spark off guard. 
All he can focus on now is pushing him off. There’s no way it’d be easy, considering he had to focus on his touching any of the electricity off of his suit. Riki delivers a kick to Spark in the ribcage near his heart, where he’s fused metal into flesh. The villain coughs before taking a step back, his metal arm reaching for Riki’s outstretched leg. He grabs it, twisting with anger before the boy meets the ground in a violent throw. Not only is the slam greater because of the enhanced strength, but the power seeps into Riki’s skin, leaving it hot from the energy radiating off of his palm. 
The boy groans, flipping to his side to avoid a fatal hit to the chest. He reaches for Spark’s normal arm, swinging the villain’s body away with as force as he could to create distance between them. 
Riki has been in enough fights to simply know when to run, even if he doesn’t know what’s coming. He could feel the tingle of the charge as it powered up, and with its energy so unrestrained and its user so unstable, the large attempt to hit Riki sends the villain stumbling back from the force. The more Spark uses his powers, the more likely he’s going to end up dead. 
“Your skin can handle that anymore!” he shouts, getting ready to swing himself closer as a plan manifests itself in his head. “You’ll die like this!” 
Spark seems to know that too as he wipes his mouth and recovers from Riki’s attacks. 
“You think I care?” He shouts, desperately pressing his wounds to stop the bleeding. “You think I have anything else for myself?” The vulnerability of his character shines through as he clutches his bleeding wound without regenerative powers to help. “You think I didn’t know that when I did it to myself--what they did to me?” 
Riki doesn’t respond, grimacing as he continues hand-to-hand combat. Although he takes a solid punch to his jaw that’s forming a deep purple bruise, he manages to trip Spark onto the ground.
The man stumbles back from the head injury, the pounding from earlier not letting him to think straight. Riki doesn’t try to injure him anymore, but he instead blocks an incoming punch and tries to force Spark towards the edge. 
The villain barely notices how much space there is left, and the boy lunges with full force. They tackle each other into the ground, and Riki gets off after apprehending him once more. 
The city's a mess, and Spider-Man’s eyes want to shut down so badly, but he takes a few steps in Spark’s direction, pushing him off the side of the building as quickly as he can. Riki hears the thud before he peeks over the edge, seeing the water erode all of the engineering from the machinery. He slowly descends from the rooftop. 
“You were in the accident, huh?” Riki shouts on top of the plethora of sounds. Pain, buzzing electricity, splashes of water as he lands next to Spark; it all echoes in his ears as he pours the water from the pot on Spark’s body. “Why did you try it? Why did you want to go back so bad?”
“If I could go back,” Spark coughs, trying to get away from the large pool of water, “I could’ve prevented the accident from taking the lives of the people around me. I could’ve saved them.” 
Spider-Man understands loss, and he understands the regret that comes with failure. He understands how the man in front of him feels after having everything taken away from him, but his emotions could never justify his actions. 
“You know you can’t change things,” Riki responds, “You tried your best, Spark.” It’s the last thing Riki tells the villain before his body slumps and police sirens grow louder and louder. It’s the last thing that he continues to think about, even if the medic quickly assesses the severity of his wounds. 
“I’m fine- really,” he pushes away the hands of a concerned woman as she holds a roll of bandages. “There’s something else I need to do.” 
Riki knew he had to tell you about this–he couldn’t just let you confide in him about..well, him, without your knowledge. And Riki wasn’t morally perfect, but he knew an explanation would be the only way to fix things.
Your house looks different when jumping over the fence instead of standing in front of it. When he realizes he has no idea what room belongs to you, he racks his brain, suddenly remembering how yours was the only one with a gray balcony over the pool. And so he climbs, slipping from the exhaustion creeping into his body. 
You’ll understand after he explains everything, right? 
“____, a little help?” And what the fuck is Nishmura Riki doing outside of your door? You go to investigate the muffled sound, inching towards the curtains and pulling them back to expect him there. When you hear a half yelp and a hissing sound that follows right after, without a person anywhere in sight, your heart drops to its stomach. 
Do not say it’s true. 
“Riki, where the fuck are you?” you ask, traversing out when you don’t see him anywhere across the glass. 
“Down here.” You run in the direction of the voice, and your eyes grow comically large and you gasp, staring down at the sight before you. 
“Holy shit.” 
There Nishimura Riki is, with his mask half burned off his face and his blonde and black hair messy and matted to his forehead with sweat. The suit is ripped in multiple locations with gashes and purple replacing the healthy skin underneath. His face is in more of a grimace, as he holds onto the web with both hands and one foot planted on the stone of your balcony—read; the bottom of your balcony. 
“A little help?” And you see his sheepish emotion through the tattered fabric, embarrassed after you had to find him in such a compromising situation. “I’m a little worn out and I think my webs are getting weaker.”
You’re a little frustrated with him for being out so publicly, but more scared and worried for his condition. Your gaze narrows on the mask, tattered and covered with scratches, but clearly visible. It was Spider-Man’s mask. The material gives way to a familiar face, and your mind almost blocks you from putting the pieces together. It’s impossible, almost horrifying to think of the implications of what it means to wear the blue and red suit. 
Instead of being the villain, Riki is, in fact, the savior.
The harsh truth is that your classmate, who you spent the last month working on a project with and suspected was a villain, is the same superhero that went out and risked his life every night fighting crime. It’s jarring to see him like this, breathing heavy and straining against the stone of the balcony, and his cough snaps you out of it. “What the fuck do I do?” 
Riki tries to put his hand up in surrender and shuts his eyes at your harsh tone. “Okay, okay, I get-“ and he cuts himself off with a yelp as his footing slips. 
He holds out his hand, and you immediately bend over the smooth railing to grab it, leaning back on the heels of your feet to help him up the most that you can. You’re filled with confusion when the boy hobbles over the cool surface of the balcony and lets his head rest on the stone, not saying much as he catches his breath. You watch the rise and fall of his chest and how his right arm goes to nurse the left side of his ribcage, wincing and sucking in a pained breath as he assesses the smear of red on his fingers. 
Sitting there with your mouth agape, you’re not really sure what to think about first; to check if RIki’s alright, to think about how your city’s greatest superhero is your English project partner, to yell at him for going to your house instead of his house to fix himself up, or to think about how good his side profile looks in the moonlight. Maybe you should’ve just been relieved that the boy you started to like wasn’t a fear-inducing villain.
“Okay, first of all, we need to have a huge talk. But I’m not a medic Riki- I’m going into accounting for fuck’s sake.” He hears the amount of curses flying from your lips as you ramble, and sees how stressed you look watching him sit against your railing. 
“I don’t know how to help you. And also,” you lower your voice and scoot closer, looking around at the large property to really make sure no one’s listening. “you’re Spider-Man?” 
The information all hitting you at once is worse than when your history teacher told you your essay was horrible. At least then, in her office, you could process everything. But here? You’re about to faint. 
“I’m pretty cool, huh?” And of course Nishimura Riki says such a thing, taking deep breaths as he shallowly presses on the blossoming bruises on his skin and wipes the sweat from his brow. 
“Pretty fucking stupid is what it is, Riki.” You cross your arms and try to take a look at where he’s been hurt, hoping that at least he has some sort of regeneration ability that helps him heal much quicker—because there’s no way he could deal with all of this on top of school. 
“I have my reasons,” he says, his voice quiet. 
You pause. “For being Spider-Man?” 
“No,” he shakes his head. “For coming here.”
“What could possibly make you want to come over to my house instead of the nearest hospital? What’s that important to you?”
“I really want to ask you to prom.” 
You simply stare at him, surprised. 
“You came to my house, even though you’re like, a punch away from passing out, to ask me out? And you couldn’t have, I don’t know, asked me anytime during the classes we have together?”
Riki somehow finds it in himself to frown and shrink from your angry piercing gaze. “I can’t because talking to you makes me nervous–so yeah, I’m sorry I’m half conscious on your balcony in my suit instead of at your door with a poster.” 
You’re conflicted, your mind still reeling from the recent discovery and your flood of emotions. Ever since you questioned his identity on top of your feelings for him, you had a hard time really knowing if you could like Riki if he turned out to be a villain, so to know that he proved both of your theories wrong leaves you quiet as you think. If possible, the color in the boy’s face drains even more when you go back inside, but the door stays open, and he thinks he hasn’t ruined things after all. You emerge with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol, a bowl of warm water, and a pristine white towel. 
“I’m not mad about that, you idiot,” you reprimand him, setting everything down as you examine the cuts on his face. You squeeze the towel and start to dab at his skin, avoiding the cuts as you clean it. “Who does this for you if not me?” 
“Jake.” 
“Seems like a pretty good friend.” Riki nods in response. 
 “I’m sorry,” he sighs, sitting up to properly address you, even if you weren’t able to meet his gaze. 
“For what?”
“For putting this on you–all of it. Not just the whole Spider-Man thing.” He knew he’d have to tell you at some point, or else it’d eat him up inside to know he kept all of it from you. 
“Look at you, saving me mid-air and talking to me as if you didn’t know who I was.”
You notice a flash of regret through his wince as you clean up a cut with antiseptic. “I meant it when I told you I knew what it was like to have a lot of pressure.”
“Guess I wasn’t so far off, then. If we never talked, would you have told me?” Riki shakes his head, and the simple motion leaves you somehow disappointed. 
“How do you ever tell anyone you’re…y’know, Spider-Man?” Even if it’s a hypothetical, you shrug, not being able to answer.
“How’d Jake find out?” 
Riki chuckles and hisses at the same time before trying to remember. “I think I just kicked his window in after a nasty poison got hold of me. He was a little too excited to have Spider-Man on his bedroom floor, and less excited to know it was me. I’m not really supposed to tell anyone, though.”
“Then why’d you tell me? You could’ve just gone back to your friends.” 
“I felt guilty–I know, I know, it sounds stupid. I’d definitely get my identity revealed at this rate.” You shake your head. 
“Not stupid. Keep going.” 
“I didn’t care that you suspected me, or if anyone else did, because I knew it was never true. But I felt so bad knowing you were sharing to me how you felt without even knowing it was me who was listening–like I was holding something from you.” 
You admire his honesty, and when you look at his furrowed brows and his lip that he’s been gnawing from worry, you can’t even imagine what he’s had to hide and do for this. In a way, you look up to him more, for trying his best even if he’s gotten all odds stacked against him. Riki’s commendable in your eyes–he always had been, ever since you woke him up in class. 
“I like those things about you, Riki. That you’re honest with yourself and the people around you as much as you can be, and you try to help others when you can. I’m glad we got to know each other more this past month.” Talking to him feels different than talking to Spider-Man from a few days ago; it feels raw, like you’re not just confessing something to a brick wall anymore. If none of this ever happened, you doubt you’d get the chance to tell Riki any of this properly. 
The boy stays silent, taking deep breaths while processing what you’ve told him. “I’m glad I could help you out.” 
You furrow your eyebrows. “I hope you know I don’t like you because you help me out. I like you because you’re attractive, and because you’re genuine,” you blurt. 
Riki laughs despite his ribcage hurting everytime he does so. Riki nods and mumbles a ‘thank you,’ also glad to truly get to know you. While his crush was more of an infatuation with your hard work and amiability, the past few weeks really opened his eyes to who you were. You never wanted to disappoint, and even if your recklessness left you in some dire situations, Riki could see how much effort you really put into things. 
There wasn’t anything else he needed to tell you–you were smart enough to see how much he cared about you.    
You’re so close, your lips glossy with lip balm as you watch him carefully. You hear and see it all; the heavy, labored breathing from his body healing itself rapidly, and the way his hand is full of rough cuts and calluses as his fingers intertwine with yours. But your eyes catch a glimpse of his mask tossed to the side, the blue shining in the corner of your eyes as you’re reminded of who he is right now, and what role you play. You are still ____ ____, but he’s a superhero.
It makes you momentarily forget whose suit you're peeling away, whose skin you're cleaning. It reminds you that he’s just the boy in your English class that you fell for. “What does that make us?”
“Prom-goers,” he answers with a slight nod. 
You smile, wiping a cut before placing the towel back into the bowl for the last time and getting up. “We can be prom-goers, yeah.” 
You’re not sure if you’re ready for anything, and you’re thankful that he understands that, too. As much as it warmed your heart to see him again and hear his confessions, the blaring truth still hangs over your head. You grab his mask, finally looking at him before handing it back and grabbing your things. His secret identity wasn’t something you could just ignore. 
“Go home, Spider-Man,” you turn your back on him, and time slows when you falter before sparing him one more look. “I want you as Riki, not like this.” 
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MAYBE NISHIMURA RIKI DOESN'T NEED TO DIE–OR ALMOST DIE–ANYMORE. 
He went home that night with his scars somewhat cleaned and his bruises miraculous healing on their own, and even if slipping through the window left him clutching his side in pain, Riki silently jumped up to celebrate his multiple victories before slipping out of his suit and finally getting some rest. 
Riki’s scared of how he’s affected your relationship. He’s worried you’ll avoid him in the halls, and he’s worried you’d never want to see him again after putting you through all of it. As much as he'd understand how upset you'd be towards him, he hopes he did the right thing by telling you.
But you see him on your way to English, and you call his name. His eyes search for yours in the crowds, and you two see each other before you crush him in a hug. 
Riki isn’t sure how to feel at first, but eventually wraps his arms around you as relief settles in his stomach. 
“Thank you for saving me, Spider-Man,” you whisper, loud enough for only him to hear. 
He smiles at you, ruffling your hair as you go to English together. “Anytime, ____.” 
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NEVERMIND, NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE SEES YOU IN YOUR RED PROM DRESS.
But first, he has to try something out. 
He curses to himself when silently zipping from a tree outside your family property to the top of your house, staring past the ledge two and luxurious stories to your well decorated porch light and door. He just prays that Google Maps is  right about how secluded the area is, so no one can see him pacing around your rooftop, with flowers elegantly wrapped in his hand (courtesy of your mother’s sleek envelope from a few days ago). 
“Fuck it,” he says to himself, shooting a web and dangling himself down. Riki’s upside down figure watches swirled window frames and meticulously designed accents as he descends, and he wonders what kind of shady business your parents could’ve done to afford something so grand. 
He faces your door—hanging down instead of rightside up, but he’s still here on time like he promised. 
The door opens at 6:00PM like he instructed you to, but what he didn’t tell you what to do was shriek and slam the door. On his nose. With a loud yelp, Riki clutches his nose, rubbing the spot you hit and trying to apply pressure to alleviate the pain. 
When the door slowly creaks open again, you face with the image of Nishimura Riki, aka your boyfriend, aka your English partner, aka Spider-Man, curled upside down in the fetal position as he cradles the sore spot on his face and swings slightly from the breeze. 
“You scared me, dumbass! How was I supposed to know it was you? It was so hard to see!” 
Although muffled, Riki’s able to mumble, “You have a porch light for this reason, _____,” and a jab at his stomach from you follows his sarcastic remark. Finally, his nose feels better, and he straightens out to finally look at you. 
Pretty, pretty, pretty, and the boy wonders how you look even more stunning with a glittering red dress and perfectly done make-up. “I like the red,” he says, trying not to freak out over your beauty. “Reminds me of a certain neighborhood superhero.” 
“I have some blue spider earrings to match.” With a beautiful smile, you turn to show him the little accent, and it melts his heart. “Are you okay, though?”
“I’m fine. I should’ve probably put more thought into that.” 
You snicker, sliding into your heels and closing the door behind you. 
“One of us is better at romantic gestures, it seems.” It warrants a scoff, and Riki brings a gloved hand to poke at your forehead teasingly.
“Let me have a do-over, then?” And the way your lips curl up into a bright smile leaves him quiet and in awe. 
“What, were you going to kiss me? Very original, Spider-Man.” With the way the fabric shifts over his features, you can tell he’s pouting. 
“I thought girls liked this.” 
You shrug, pretending you aren’t swept off his feet by the effort he’s put in. Taking a step in his direction, your hands reach up to gently pull the mask over his chin, ears, and then his nose. 
Whispering quietly, you ask, “You’ve kissed other girls upside down?” 
Riki’s quick to shake his head. “You’re the only girl I’d withstand a head rush for.” And god, you just can’t stop yourself from grinning at his sweet, genuine words.
You lean in, placing a small kiss on his nose as a silent apology. Then, you close your eyes and lean into him once more, feeling his hands carefully holding the side of your head and his lips on yours. Your kiss with Riki is saccharine and slow, making you pull away when the urge to beam at him is too much. Your cheeks definitely hurt by how romantic he’s being, and you can’t resist kissing him once more.
“I’m not gonna lie,” he starts, finally letting himself down, “It feels weird.” 
“You ruined the moment.” And he really didn’t, but you enjoy his subtle reactions to your light digs at him. 
“Whatever.” Riki laughs. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” 
You nod, sitting down on the porch and dragging a manicured nail over your lips with the ghost of his affections, thinking about how you literally just kissed Spider-Man. 
Riki comes back, dusting off his suit and smoothing out the wrinkles, with a large bouquet of red roses and one blue one snuck in there. Your lips stretch into a grin and you accept the bouquet, keeping a mental note to read the card in there.
“You never cease to amaze me, Riki.” It’s the last thing you mutter to the air before you loop your arms around his neck, urging him to lean down as you kiss him once more—this time rightside up, but still as sickly saccharine as the one before it. Your heart is fuzzy with fondness and your eyes glitter with adoration. 
“So, which kiss was better?” he asks when you pull away, a little breathless and dizzy.
You swat his arm and walk past the gates, seeing the sleek limo waiting by the curb. “I don’t know, Spider-Man. Maybe show up in your suit and we’ll try it again.” 
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REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED AND ALWAYS READ!
RIKI FIC DONE!!!! ngl y/n u were right there how did u not know riki was spiderman but whatever idc she's a hard worker not smart LMFOAOAO. my first ever action fic so i hope you enjoy! also i hate the ‘oh he pined after her for 4 years she liked him for 2 months’ bs because I WAS IN IT. and it sucks so i tried to deviate from it :)
꣑�� permanent fic taglist (TAGGED IN TEASERS, FICS, HEADCANNONS, DRABBLES, ETC.): @dimplewonie @minleeeknow @heeheesang @mintpjzroll @llvrhee @firstclassjaylee @in-somnias-world @rairaiblog @suneng @mavlogist @sensitively-taken @sumzysworld @simpjay @moons-v @riksaes @txtari @jungwonscatcus @tya0 @sasfransisco @woorcve @shypen @pinkriki @rikisluv @saranghaohoshi @lilifiedeans @wonmyheart @k1ttyluvr @nikisgfff @ramenoil @laurradoesloveu @lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me @ikeulims @missychiefs1404 @qwonyoung23 @yangjungwonnie @onementally-unstabel-kid @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @blooqz @anormieee hi permies hope u enjoy! kith
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ghostfacd · 1 year ago
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IN A WORLD FULL OF BOYS, HE’S A GENTLEMAN ! | TOM BLYTH
PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
SUMMARY. despite being in a world filled of childish boys, your boyfriend was definitely a gentleman, always putting you before him
AUTHORS NOTE. the third installment because we love tom blyth and yn avocot. I recommend reading part 1 and 2 for more context!
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tomblyth “babe, do you think we’re together in every universe?” is that even a question?
tagged @/ynuser
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ynuser stoppp i didn’t know youd actually take the question seriously
user1 get you a man like tom blyth bc oh my god
user2 idk what yn did to manifest him but i need her ways
user3 ugh idk what he’s doing with her lol he could do so much better
➥ user4 well someone had to say it..
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You didn’t understand how some people on the internet can be so . . . mean. Although there have been countless of fans cheering you and Tom on, it didn’t make it any less hurtful that there were still a ton who weren’t scared to be open about how much your boyfriend could do better.
It’s ironic; you think. They’re claiming they’re looking out for Tom, yet totally disregarding him and his girlfriend as human beings? Those weren’t real fans.
The reason for them hating you so much? Just for simply being with Tom. Everybody wanted him, that was your crime.
Everytime you got lost in your thoughts about this topic, Tom knew. Boyfriend instincts, he called them, but really, he was just a caring and observant person.
You tried not to break down over it, you really did, but a girl could only go on for so long before it all bursts out. Luckily, Tom pulls you right in, telling you to let it all out.
Although the world was filled with childish and hurtful beings, Tom Blyth was still who he was, a gentleman, attending to your every needs.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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tomblyth really dgaf if you like my girlfriend or not cause i do and that’s all that matters
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user5 im cryinf the polaroid he has of her
user6 YES REAL MEN STAND UP FOR THEIR GFS
user7 ALL THE PICS HE HAS OF HER 🥹🥹
tomblythswife oh to be yn avocot and be loved by tom blyth
rachelzegler tell ‘em 🙊
user8 she doesn’t even comment on the posts he makes abt her, so self centered lol
➥ ynuser I’m right next to him rn?? cant say the same thing about you “lol”
➥ user9 OH SHE ATE YOU UP @/user8
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tomblyth_daily here are some clips of tom talking about his relationship in his new interview! GET YOU A MAN THATS LIKE TOM BLYTH 🗣️🗣️🗣️
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user10 the way he’s so passionate when talking about her and being a good boyfriend, God I hate being single
user11 “they’re not even that cute” STFU AND GO WATCH THIS INTERVIEW CAUSE ??
user12 tom blyth said put aside your nonchalant attitudes, im looking at YOU MEN 🫵🫵
ilovetomblyth he’s so boyfriend it actually hurts
user13 yn must’ve saved a continent in her past life to be dating tom blyth omg
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ynuser girls, before you have a meltdown over a boy: think of what balleona laurent would do. kiss and manipulate coriolanus!
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tomblyth you kiss and manipulate me too
➥ ynuser you’re gonna get me CANCELLED
user14 literal unbothered icon i love her
user15 if i were her id post a tiktok with that audio “he chose me he don’t want you”
iloveyn SHES SO FUNNY
lionsgate us when behind the scenes photo of balleona 😻
➥ user16 lmao stop who’s the admin of lionsgate
user17 balleona is such a bad person but oh is she hot
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tomblyth she was like a shot of espresso
tagged @/ynuser
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ynuser i love u more than words can describe blyth
user18 ok who’s cutting onions
user19 GIRLS, GUYS, THEY THEMS, STOP SETTLING FOR BARE MINIMUM WHEN TOM BLYTH LITERALLY CALLED HIS GF A SHOT OF ESPRESSO, GIVES HER FLOWERS EVERYDAY, AND TALKS ABT HER ALL THE TIME IN HIS INTERVIEWS
➥ user20 YELL IT HARDER SISTER 👐👐👐
user21 this is so dark academica im inlove with u guys
user22 parentssss
rachelzegler my favorites
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ynuser SNOW LANDS ON TOP LOSERS
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tomblyth yn, i love you but
➥ user23 LMFAOO when he doesn’t finish his sentence
user24 the second pic thank u yn
joshandresrivera on top of u maybe
➥ user25 IM DYING OML
user26 thank you to lionsgate for casting the most hottest villain couple ever
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cinnamanz · 4 months ago
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— ⋆✴︎˚。⋆ MAMMA MIA ⋆౨ৎ˚ .ᐟ SOPHIA LAFORTEZA
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❝𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐀, 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈 𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍
𝐌𝐘, 𝐌𝐘, 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔?❞
there’s always been one rule in the group: don’t bring up y/n. no one really knows why, but it’s clear sophia would rather leave her ex-best friend in the past. once inseparable, their friendship dissolved after a summer camp that no one talks about, and y/n vanished, moving god-knows-where without so much as a goodbye. some say it was a fight. others say it was something more. only sophia knows the truth—or maybe not even she does. now, as the third year at dream academy begins, sophia is blindsided by y/n's unexpected return. gone is the familiar, easygoing childhood bestfriend she remembers. in her place is someone sharper, colder, and—unfortunately for sophia—hotter than ever. (who gave her the permission to look so fine?)
tags .ᐟ smau, crack, fluff, awkward idiots, grumpy x sunshine (or at least my attempt to), childhood bestfriends to lovers, theatre children, coarse language, suggestive themes, nonceleb! au, university au!, sexual jokes, kys nd die jokes, mentions of substances, my writing
featuring .ᐟ katseye, p1harmony, ive, le sserafim and etc
pairing .ᐟ sophia laforteza x female reader
status .ᐟ ongoing
notes .ᐟ this smau was made for fun and entertainment. it is not an actual portrayal of the people mentioned in this smau, nor are the photos used to portray y/n. ignore timestamps. dream academy is a performing arts university. divider cred: @/adornedwithlight. TAGLIST CLOSED.
❝𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐀, 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍?
𝐌𝐘, 𝐌𝐘, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐈’𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔?❞
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PROFILES
rock, paper, 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 (and keeho) — mommy day care
01. oomfchella @ school
02. dire omen
03. livin la vida loca
04. tying the noose as we speak
05. lore
06. just like old times
07. extracurricular
08. for evermore
09. best friend of the year
10. casting
11. square up
12. a b c d e f g
13. love finds a way
14. petty
15. nonchalant mfs
16. getting somewhere
17. shady ahh tweet
18. concerned
19. easy to draw
20. u look like u hump trees
21. cry to ur homeboys
22. cool cover!
23. for free
24. onto sumn
25. I WILL NOT BE SILENCED
26. tom holland
27. awkward!
28. thoughts nd prayers
29. hardest battles
30. let her cook
31. party on you
32. does yn know ab this?
more in progress!
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™ CINNAMANZ 2025
— please do not repost, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way without permission. thank you! xx
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norrisainz33 · 3 months ago
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celebrity crush || eo31
☆ summary: esteban gets the chance to meet his celeb crush at f175
☆ pairing: esteban ocon x famous!reader
☆ fc & warnings: bella hadid x none
☆ a/n: first esteban fic!!! if u saw me post this by accident before... no you didnt
masterlist
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
new interview with esteban ocon has been posted
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view transcript
[interviewer 1] so esteban -- its no secret that you are a very big fan of marvel and super heroes! can we expect to see more special super hero helmets this season?
[esteban] yes!! i have some exciting special helmets!! tho i dont want to give too much away but there will be one featured this season for sure
[interviewer 2] amazing, well we can't wait to see what you're cooking up!!
[interviewer 1] while we’re on the topic... a little birdy told us that a particular hero and actress were your favorite - y/n y/l/n?
[esteban] *laughs* oui y/n may or may not be my celebrity crush. i just think she is a fantastic actress and she plays one of my favorite characters in the marvel universe
[interviewer 1] well you're in luck esteban! the same little birdy told me that she's going to be in attendance at the f175 event tonight!
[esteban] no way! well i'm really going to have to get dressed up now eh?
estebanocon has posted to his private story
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lando: WHAT
estebanocon: mate i know
lando: you better shoot your shot
estebanocon: that’s the plan!
lando: i’m fairly certain lewis knows her…. let me see what i can do 😉
estebanocon: 😮
lance_stroll: now is your time to shine
estebanocon: wish me luck mon ami
olliebearman: **and for our livery reveal
estebanocon: well of course
haasf1team: our intel says she was invited by alpine (🤢) because of their owners. she'll be sat 2 tables away from us if my seating chart is accurate
estebanocon: admin you are my HERO
haasf1team: you’re our hero estie
abbipulling: if you don't catch her im going to be disappointed
estebanocon: going to try my hardest!
teamestebanocon: good luck boss man
estebanocon: ❤️
ynuser has posted to their story
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user1: LONDON?!
user2: are you in london bc they’re making you the new queen? or…..
lando: my friend esteban ocon would give you a car if they don’t let you keep that one
teamestebanocon: my friend esteban ocon saved some cats from a burning building today and let me borrow his ferrari. i’m sure you could borrow his car too
user3: mother mother mother
estebanocon: 😍 looking forward to seeing you at the o2 later!
haasf1team: we can’t get you an alpine but we can get you some paddock passes to attend a race with a superior team 🫣
ynuser: hmmm is the monaco gp on the table?
haasf1team: OMG
haasf1team: sorry… i mean yes! any gp is on the table!
lewishamilton: and this is how i find out you're coming tonight?
ynuser: surpriseeee!!!! hehe sorry lewy. ive been so busy i forgot to reach out
lewishamilton: all good y/n! i'm looking forward to seeing you. p.s. i promised one of my fellow drivers that i'd introduce you to someone so be ready
ynuser: cryptic but fair. are they cute at least 👀
lewishamilton: i'll let you decide that one for yourself
user4: ok she’s a car girl now?
yourbff: no no get a pink lambo baby not this white alpine nonsense
ynuser: you're so right
zendaya: pleaseeeee come visit tom and i tomorrow
ynuser: done and done. i miss you both more than anything in the whole world
user5: i’ll buy whatever it is you’re selling
f1gossip has made a post
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f1gossip: marvel superstar and fashion icon, y/n y/l/n, has graced the f175 red carpet! its said that she's here at the request of her costar/alpine investor. we wouldn't be properly reporting if we didn't also tell you that she was spotted talking with lando norris and esteban ocon after lewis hamilton appeared to introduce his fellow drivers to his superstar friend. esteban has publicly said on multiple occasions that y/n is his celebrity crush - could our very own esteban have shot his shot? we'll keep you updated if we hear anymore.
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ynfan1: WHO THAT IN THE MIDDLE SLIDE
ynfan2: no fr.... im looking.....respectfully....... should i get into f1?
user31: pls look away this is a family affair
user1: my two worlds colliding
user12: KJFGHJFGHKJDFGNKJNFG
user2: well thank goodness you stayed calm
user8: so what im learning from this is if i talk about my crush enough,,, i'll get to meet them
user12: the all brown leather is serving so hard its insane
user13: they should just put her on stage instead of the cars.. i'd rather watch that
ynuser has made a post
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ynuser: what a wonderful weekend in london
view all comments
tatemcrae: you’re a literal goddess
ynuser: you're the literal love of my life
user4: mamacita
f1: always great to see you! [liked by ynuser]
user31: WHO gave you those flowers? quick esteban look away
user2: maybe it WAS esteban who gave her the flowers!!
user8: didnt they like just meet like 72 hours ago?
user2: yes but like they could have hit it off!!!
user31: ya know what user2..... maybe you're on to something
user8: y'all can't be normal abt nothin huh
ynfan: who is esteban?
user9: oh boy
estebanocon: was a pleasure meeting you!
ynuser: right back at you! 🌹
user2: omg she responded someone check on estie
user10: oh that last slide feels intentional...the black and red like haas.....noticing things......
lewishamilton: missed you my friend
ynuser: missed you more lew
user5: looks like im getting into f1 now
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ynuser has posted to their story
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user1: i promise whatever the person who is getting to take you out is offering,,,, i can do one better 😭😭😭😭
lando: 👀
ynuser: 🤨
user14: pls just one chance 😫
estebanocon: mon dieu you looked incredible tonight. thank you for a wonderful evening y/n/n
ynuser: thank you esteban! you looked quite handsome yourself
ynuser: let me know if this is too much but… i’d really like to keep seeing you
estebanocon: too much?? don’t be silly y/n. i’d love nothing more
ynuser: thank god - i was a bit nervous you wouldn’t be interested
estebanocon: have you not seen the multiple interviews of me publicly crushing on you? 😅😅😅😅
ynuser: hahahaa i have but still
estebanocon: no buts
estebanocon: wanna come watch me race in melbourne?
yourbff: what is this????? details immediately???
ynuser: you know how i went to that f1 event? well one of the vroom vroom guys was confident enough to ask me to grab drinks and he just was so incredibly handsome so i said yes…. and then at drinks he bewitched me with his french charm and now we went to dinner and i think i might like him like him
yourbff: you know what … i think being a wag suits you honestly
user22: feeling like montoya rn
tatemcrae: PAUSE! are you on a date?
ynuser: yes
tatemcrae: CALL ME RN
user25: idk how to bounce back from this ill be fr
ynuser has posted to their story
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user4: chat we’ve lost her
tatemcrae: i can't believe this
ynuser: neither can i ... honestly i never thought the day would come where i found a partner that was willing to put up with all the craziness that i bring to the table but he's so incredible
tatemcrae: literally could cry rn. i am endlessly happy for you y/n!!! you deserve nothing but happiness
user2: AUSGP YOURE GOING TO THE AUSGP I JUST KNOW IT
lewishamilton: roscoe is wondering where his thank you treats are for making this happen
ynuser: roscoe or you?
lewishamilton: both
ynuser: i'll bring them to the paddock 😉
user19: adding melbourne to my bucket list rn
estebanocon: oh mon ange, we are in soft launch territory now?
ynuser: yes! you said that was ok? 😫😫 i can take it down!!!
estebanocon: yes mon amor! just teasing you 😘
user31: you can't tell me thats not esteban ocon omg
lance_stroll: was wonderful to meet you this evening!
ynuser: it was a pleasure meeting you!!! let's hang out more xxoo
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ynuser: oh but you've got a sports car
view all comments
user2: is this supposed to be a soft launch bc you ain't slick girl ik that’s esteban’s car
tatemcrae: while you drive it real far 😉
lando: uhhh hey... while you're here.....
ynuser: good bye lando!
user18: literally sick with jealousy
estebanocon: ❤️
ynuser: 🤍
ynfan1: yup alright im into f1 now too
haasf1team: thanks for joining us y/n! black and red are your colors 😍
ynuser: i think so too
user24: i’d like to thank beyoncé for y/n’s appearance at the ausgp
roscoelovescoco: come to silverstones toos!! i misses yous
ynuser: anything for you my love
user43: i seriously have no one to talk to abt this and im about to crash out
user87: join f1twt and you will
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated!! lmk if you’d like more estie fics- i’ve noticed he doesn’t get a lot of love on here 🫶🏻
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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belovedenzo · 2 months ago
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the kings of hogwarts // slytherin boys headcanons
various headcanons; appearance/style, social stance/relationships , pet peeves, favorite things, fun facts.
characters; Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle, Lorenzo Berkshire, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zambini, Tom Riddle
words; 3.7k
warnings; cussing, sfw other than that? I think? suggestive maybe
notes; these are all my opinions so if they aren't accurate to you that's okay! If you want more various headcanons, comment some ideas and i'll make it happen :). please enjoy! reposts, likes and comments keep me motivated to make more. thank you guys for all the love on my other stories so far!
taglist; just tagging people I like! If u don’t want to be tagged please lmk! @shyamanuensis @riddlesbunny @redeemingvillains @nottsamor @nottsbaby @nottsluvv @nottsangel @riddleswhcre @enzosbabyangel @enzoberkshiresonly-deactivated2 @nottslove @nemesyaaa @obsessedwithceleste @prythiansprincess @anawritez-posts @riddlesrizzler
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Theodore Nott
appearance/style;
6ft1
broad with decent muscle tone 
light chartreuse eyes
Few scattered freckles. Iconic freckle below left eye 
Light brown hair with body
A natural kubrick stare with a twist of gentleness
Sharp incisors
innocent smiles and shy grins (it’s a stick up)
doesn’t wear a lot of jewelry- occasionally a ring on his left hand
Outside of his uniform he sticks to simple colors for his clothes- beige, black, white, tan, navy, dark brown, etc.
Definitely gold over silver 
Always wearing the nicest shoes- shoes are his favorite accessory
Watch on the right arm when it’s a fancy event because he’s left handed
Wears a lot of sweaters in the winter 
social stance/relationships;
Silent but deadly. He may not cause a fight for the thrill of it like Mattheo will, but he will support and instigate his best friends angsty behavior. His naturally sweet looking face can quickly become mincing- his main tactic of intimidating his enemies and naysayers. 
Most people think he’s meaner than he is. He actually stays mostly in his own lane if it isn’t to back up the rest of the boys or join in on chaos one of them already caused. 
They are all players, sure- but Theo is kinda mean about it. Rather heartless with his hookups and doesn’t ever keep the same one for long. Romantic feelings are something he doesn’t really feel or act on. 
May be on the more cold side with girls but keeps their personal info to himself. Even to his friends he doesn’t brag or talk about it that often. 
People who do get the opportunity of being Theo’s friend say that he is very funny and has a dark sense of humor
Comes off as a lone wolf to the rest of the school- but can also very often be seen with his best friend Mattheo
Will actually stand up for the little guy- especially if on his own. If he thinks something is unfair he will call them out
Thinks that Lorenzo is the funniest in their group but tells Mattheo it’s him to make him feel better
Let’s the boys think he isn’t totally in charge of most of their affairs
Mattheo is his best friend- he thinks he’s the coolest and gets along with him the most out of any of the boys 
Him and Enzo butt heads a lot but he does love him very much
Goes to Blaise and Tom when he needs good advice or just to vent to smart people
Finds himself feeling jealous of Draco and his ability to not give a fuck (little does he know…)
pet peeves;
While he does engage in bullying with the rest of the boys he thinks Draco goes way too far sometimes. It gets on his nerves and sometimes does say something
Love and romance in any way. If he feels like any girl is catching feelings he gets the ick and leaves sooner than he would have anyways 
Hates it when Mattheo blows cigarette smoke to close to his face even though he smokes too
Thinks Enzo brags too much about himself but has never said anything 
Also thinks Enzo can talk too much in general sometimes…
If a girl he likes seems more interested in any of his friends he gets jealous. This happens with Mattheo the most and can cause them to fight
favourite things;
Alone time- as much as he loves his friends he actually does love chill time alone sometimes
He likes parties just as much as the rest of them but for him it’s because he can get super fucked up- he’s there for the muggle weed and alcohol
Potions. Out of all his classes he actually finds making potions kind of fun- his favorite classmate to make potions with is Pansy because she’s actually good at it
More into smoking than drinking- loves muggle weed. He’s always in charge of bringing it to the their smaller get togethers
Crystal Castles- if that band existed he would love it
Spicy food
Painting- even though he thinks he’s terrible at it
Hanging out with Mattheo
Early morning hours 
Skirts on girls
fun facts;
Actually speaks Italian and some Spanish 
He can out-smoke any of the boys (yes even Mattheo)
Pansy has a huge crush on him 
He never remembers his dreams 
Has dyslexia
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Mattheo Riddle
appearance/style;
5ft10
Lean but prominent muscle tone
Chocolate brown eyes 
Long eyelashes
dark brown hair- lightly curly
Dough eyes
Very charming grin- but mischievous 
Wears various bracelets and a pinky ring on his left hand constantly
Mostly dark colors. Loves jackets even when not in uniform
Mostly silver, but likes gold
There’s a few rings and bracelets that he wears the most- almost every day. They are subtle but iconic
Watch on his left arm because he’s right handed
Too scared to pierce his ears
Actually likes fashion and thinks about it when he gets ready
social stance/relationships;
Terrible reputation. Known for his rude words and tendency to get into physical fights. This has a lot of people on his enemy list
He and Draco are the worst about how they treat other people in and outside of their house. He has no respect for people that feel less than him
One of the worst players- but has a select roster he mainly goes to. They are wrapped around his pinky
Can and has felt romantic feelings but never acts on it. Hides his desire to actually love someone. Thinks that would make him too vulnerable
While Draco is egotistical- Mattheo is rude for other reasons. He’s pessimistic and does it to get attention
Secretly wants validation but continues to worsen his reputation by acting out 
Thinks Theo is the funniest and the coolest. He loves his dark sense of humor. They bounce off of eachother well 
Let’s Theo think he’s in charge but it’s so obviously him- right? (right-)
While his best friend is Theo- he is also very close with Enzo
Him and his brother Tom butt heads a lotttt, they get into a lot of disagreements. He secretly loves him a lot 
Also quite close to Draco. They can relate in some ways even if they won’t admit it
Goes to Blaise when he needs advice or even when logic needs to be talked into him
All of his friends know that he is secretly super sweet and caring but outsiders don’t and he likes it that way
pet peeves;
Tom’s lack of empathy. And his lack of interest towards getting with girls- he thinks that is odd
When Tom won’t hang out with them because of an academic reason- also thinks that is odd
When a girl stops showing interest in him in any way- or if they’ve replaced him. If it’s one of his friends he’d freak
He hates all of his friends music taste. They don’t listen to good music. He thinks very highly however of his own music taste
Tests of any kind
If any of his friends take Tom’s side during one of their fights he gets super mad and it secretly hurts him a lot
favorite things;
The smiths- he would listen to the smiths a lot and I will die on that hill
The specific brand of cigarettes he smokes daily
Quidditch- Lorenzo is his favorite team mate because he’s quick
Confrontation 
Music
Attention, positive or negative 
A total night person, especially as it gets colder
Sour candy 
Reading tragic romance stories 
Horror movies
Hanging out with Theo
fun facts;
Thinks he can out-smoke Theo (he can not)
Has really crazy dreams and a hard time sleeping 
Gets seasonal depression really bad
Hates the smell of coffee but still drinks it
Has had multiple secret real gf’s that only Theo knows about
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Lorenzo Berkshire
appearance/style;
6ft4 (the tallest)
Long limbs- lean. But shockingly strong, sleeper build
Amber brown eyes
Sharp jawline
A natural Kubrick stare- mean case of resting bitch face
Dark brown hair- kept on the longer side
Shows his emotions on his face through his expressions
Likes necklaces, long ones underneath his clothes. Likes rings and earrings which he wears most of the time
Mostly gold but likes silver as well
Outside of his uniform he wears a lot of pastel colors, purple and green being his favorite. Also really likes dark purple and green. Gem tones
Watch on both arms, mixed with chunky bracelets (for fancy events)
Everyone says he had really beautiful hair and he secretly always makes sure it is (he loves his hair)
Social stance and relationships;
Known as the schools biggest whore. But in a good way?
Even though he can actually be the worst- he has a good reputation. His ability to charm and seem innocent has helped him get away with a lot of things 
Generally one of the most liked out of the boys around the whole school. People fear him least and actually really want to be friends with him
Either that or they have a huge crush on him
He comes off as much more sweet than he… can be
He uses girls very disposibley. He really makes them feel like he really likes them though. He’s great at pretending to get what he wants
All of his friends know one of the worst thing about him is his habit of lying 
Over the years girls have gotten the gist of what kind of guy he truly is but it still stays rumor around school because of how well liked he is 
Treats everyone in the group like they are his best friends- but it’s probably actually Mattheo
He knows that Theo can find him annoying but thinks that’s funny. Even does it on purpose sometimes for entertainment 
Draco is his cousin and another close friend of his but secretly envy’s him because he thinks the boys like Draco more than him
Becomes the most mischievous when with Mattheo. They can act like major dicks together
Likes to hit on girls with Blaise
Goes to Tom about school stuff he struggles with. He’s not that great with academics
While he can be cold in some ways to others- with his friends he can be quite emotional 
pet peeves;
He hates that he feels the need to be perfect all the time but never can be 
It irks him that everyone thinks Mattheo is some hooligan when he’s really not 
While he likes smoking cigarettes- he thinks they all smoke too much
He has a lower tolerance and hates that he’s always the first to be super drunk 
Waking up in the morning. Always wakes up in a terrible mood until he wakes up 
Out of any of the boys he has the most patience overall
favorite things;
Getting drunk and partying. He gets invited to everything 
Having people fawn all over him. He likes that so many people like him
Flirting with other guy’s girlfriends to piss them off
Quidditch- loves playing with Mattheo and Draco
Muggle weed. Also has the lowest tolerance with that 
Hugging Draco 
Fruit. Blueberries are his favorite 
Deftones. He’d feel so cool while listening to them 
Luna Lovegood. He thinks she’s freaky in a good way
fun facts;
Has the deepest voice out of all the boys
Can run faster than anyone else at Hogwarts
Has really bad OCD 
Out of any of the boys he is most susceptible to substance abuse. Terrible addictive personality 
He hates his family and only talks about growing up with Draco 
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Draco Malfoy
appearance/style;
6ft even
White blond hair 
Striking, light blue eyes
Long and lanky. The skinniest out of them
Sharp angular features
Also has resting bitch face but on purpose 
Loves jewelry- but classy jewelry and not all the time. Mostly necklaces 
Silver and silver only
Wears a lot of dark clothing- also likes gem tones. But mostly black white and grey’s
Mostly gets comments on how blonde his hair is and how bright his eyes are. Has soul staring blue eyes
Black is his most iconically worn color fs
Watch on his left because he’s right handed. Actually wears it every day
social stance/relationships;
A total asshole. Just less physically than Mattheo. He may not pick a physical fight but he does bully a lot of people- he’s rude and intitled. Says hurtful things
Known for his high ego and over privileged personality
People don’t understand how him and Lorenzo are even related 
Does pull girls but isn’t as good as the others are at it- is filled with too much hate (lol… no actually)
Everyone wonders how he gets good grades because he never pays attention. It’s because he’s actually super smart
Him and Tom get along really well. They actually have a lot in common and hang out a lot
Blaise and Lorenzo are the ones that know more of his vulnerable and emotional side, being there since the beginning
Mattheo and him really feed off one another and are a very feared couple when together (no one is safe). They fuel each others egos 
Actually really loves Theo. Has always had an extra soft spot for him and has wished he could be him
He envy’s how cold Tom actually is. Draco hides a lot of his pain in a fake persona
He actually had real gf’s. A few long term ones even
Out of all the boys he trusted Blaise first. Lorenzo introduced them
pet peeves;
Everything? No literally- he has a very short fuse
Speaking of short fuse- his friends like to use that against him and rile him up for fun. He hates that
Being disrespected. He will actually become a Karen if he has to- no body is rude to Draco.. except his friends are rude to him all the time 
How much everyone loves his cousin Enzo but hates him. He is jealous of the attention he gets
Any time one of the guys are bragging about girls because he secretly wishes he had that many girls 
Mattheo’s fucking cigarette smoke
The fact that Tom’s grades are just a little better than his 
The fact that Mattheo and Enzo are better at quidditch than him 
Gryffindor. Just the whole houses existence
“Fucking nerds’, as he’d call them 
favourite things;
Cussing 
Writing (keeps it to himself mostly)
Mattheo’s music taste
Enzo hugs (he will die before Enzo knows this)
The Greengrass sisters (has dated both of them… wants one of them back)
The color black
Getting extremely drunk. Feeling numb and unbothered. That’s when he gets deep and real 
Cold weather- hates the heat
Pastries, especially jelly filled ones 
fun facts;
Speaks French 
Is super rich and will make sure everyone knows that
Has a weakness for cute animals 
Got mad when Tom lost his virginity before him
Is secretly bisexual
Probably bpd
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Blaise Zambini
appearance/style;
6ft2 (the second tallest)
Broad and muscular but still on the lean side
Deep brown eyes
Full lips, model like features 
Great cheekbones 
Known as one of the prettiest out of the boys
Likes gold and silver 
Never wears his watch- always forgets it and loses it
Does wear earrings like all the time though
Secretly wants a nose piercing 
Wears a lot of grey and navy outside of his uniform. Looks really good in it though
Striking eyes but gentle, sweet resting face
social stance/relationships;
A good reputation like Enzo- but a bit more intimidating 
A lot of girls want him but he’s actually quite picky and doesn’t give a lot of them a chance
Gets emotional about girls more so than his friends- still doesn’t date them. Like Mattheo- has the ones he goes to the most 
Not really mean at all unless he’s joining in on his friends being dicks. Him and Enzo like to tease people together 
Sees Draco as his best friend 
Knew Enzo first
Wishes he could be as smart as Tom and goes to him a lot for school questions. Is secretly super smart though and could probably get better grades than Tom if he applied himself more
Likes to smoke with Theo the most. They get along well when they smoke together
Thinks Mattheo is the funniest 
pet peeves;
How mean Draco and Mattheo can be. He finds it pointless and rude when they go too far
When he gets lumped into some of the boys bad behavior
When Enzo and Draco get too drunk at parties. He tends to drink less because he knows they will go over board and he’ll have to take care of them 
How little the boys think about Tom sometimes and leave him behind (Tom would have said no anyways)
How much he can see through Draco’s shit sometimes 
Does a lot of damage control for his friends and that can get old
Being late to things
Losing things (loses things all the time)
Watching a friend lower their standards for a girl or guy
favorite things;
Going to quidditch games to see his friends play- always sits with Theo
Colder weather
A comfy sweater
A nicely rolled joint. Thinks Theo roles the best ones
When things are nice and calm. No body is arguing or being stupid and he doesn’t have to be mom
When his grades are good and he doesn’t have to stress about it
Watching Draco get put in his place 
Alone time with Draco and Enzo, just like their first year
Rock music. Like classic rock music- listens to it with Tom and Mattheo
Girls that wear nice perfume 
fun facts;
He wishes he could play quidditch when he watches his friends play
Can understand a small amount of Draco’s French 
Has really bad anxiety but keeps it to himself
Seems like the most put together in the group but really isn’t at all. More insecure than he lets on
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Tom Riddle
appearance/style;
5ft11 (One inch that he holds over Mattheo’s head)
Major sleeper build
Green eyes. Odd shade of green that you can’t forget
Hair similar to his brothers just a little less curly 
NIce jawline
Evil and mischievous looking grin- it’s just that way naturally 
Resting plotting against you face 
Tries to have a kubrick stare but has dough eyes like Mattheo 
Would wear jewelry but nothing too flashy. A necklace maybe- one ring even
Gold and silver- mostly gold
Wears his watch on his right hand because he’s left handed. Wears it all the time 
Isn’t seen in much other than his uniform. But when he is it’s black and green anyways 
Doesn’t care for fashion. Thinks piercings and tattoos of any kind are too much
Never goes into public not dressed nice 
social stance/relationships;
Social outcast. Not the most social at all really
Extremely focused on his grades and personal writings
Is either feared or ignored by most people around him 
Does however have friends and goes out with them sometimes… when they bug him enough 
He is known for being very smart though and lots of students want his help on projects 
Quite intimidating even though he doesn’t care enough to bully anyone 
Isn’t very interested in girls… has had his fun with a few but romance and feelings don’t exist in his world- he has no time or energy for that
Has had a few crushes but would never tell anyone 
Doesn’t talk about his feelings with any of his friends 
Actually likes his brother Mattheo the most out of any of them but won’t admit that
Is also a huge fan of Theo- he thinks he’s the funniest 
Likes being around Blaise a lot too- thinks he is actually super smart
Draco and him hang out often- they have a lot in common and Draco makes the most sense to him out of all the boys 
He finds Enzo slightly annoying… he’s just gotten used to him really 
All of the boys admire Tom in an odd way and he does know that 
pet peeves;
Like Draco- Tom finds everything lame and annoying to be honest. He however is more quiet about his distaste for things unless he really hates it
Enzo’s constant talking about girls. He thinks that guy talks too much in general 
Mattheo’s temper. He thinks Mattheo needs to get it together and drop the ego
How little his friends pay attention in school… how stupid some of them can be 
Mattheo’s fucking cigarette smoke 
How much the school cares about quidditch and how Mattheo is praised about it more than he is with his academic success 
Getting super fucked up is dumb to him. Just like the flirting and hooking up- he has better things to do. He will however smoke muggle weed a little bit and does lie cigarettes
Being touched (Enzo trying to hug him)
Athletics of any kind 
favorite things; 
Writing and reading, he absolutely loves it 
Draco’s creative cussing 
Getting the best grades out of all his friends 
Watching Mattheo get angry at him and squirmy 
Chocolate, major bitter sweet tooth
Black coffee
Charms; he is really good at it 
Dueling; he is also really good at it and beats all the boys
Classical music 
Alone time and his own space 
fun facts;
He can play the piano really well. Plays mostly for Mattheo 
Practically raised Mattheo even though he’s just a year older
He doesn’t like to sleep too much
He is always the first to wake up and start his day 
He is also the first to always leave the table in the great hall
He speaks parseltongue but no body knows
Secretly overthinks a lot 
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love, spell
393 notes · View notes
jamminvroomvroom · 1 year ago
Note
4k celebration
congrats on 4k love - your writing is absolutely worth all of the hype and even more!!! i adore your work and so look forward to even more people discovering it.
i was hoping to request a lewis fic?? i’m such a slut for a good enemies to lovers situation, so maybe along the lines of reader is a fair bit younger than lewis, but there’s been all of this tension btwn them and it all boils over one night (smuttyyyyy) 🥴
we made up.
LH x fem!rival reader - 4k celebration
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in which you can never just bite your tongue
eeeeek i love this request! thank u sm anon for ur sweet words, ur so lovely i hope i’ve done this justice for you! writing for lewis terrified me so this might not be my best work but we move! more lewis requests to come, let me know what you think <3
songs to set the mood: stargirl interlude by the weekend & lana del rey
warnings: 18+!! minors go away!! smut, swearing, degradation, praise, dom!lewis, some switch!reader, implied age gap, slightly inexperienced reader, enemies to lovers, blink n you’ll miss it size kink
2.6k words
you hide admiration with a scowl, curling into yourself, as far away as you can get from him. the couch seems to get smaller and smaller with every overly intelligent, carefully thought out word he says. each sentence seems to be coated in a thick layer of i don’t give a fuck. you don’t know how he’s so good a toeing the line.
after six years in f1, you still couldn’t work out why you didn’t like lewis hamilton.
maybe it was his cool confidence, the way he never lacked composure, while you were called an unhinged, delusional woman by every incel on twitter for so much as breathing. maybe it was his sky high stack of trophies, championships, podiums, wins. you weren’t even halfway close to touching his records. maybe it was the way he was diabolically, inhumanly gorgeous, a truly breathtaking creature. you paled in every single way compared to lewis, so how could you even begin to like him?
it was silly, really, pathetic even, feeling such childish disdain just because he was better than you. he was older, more refined, iconic in every single way that you weren’t. perhaps you’d get there one day, but you simply weren’t there yet.
you’re sat beside him in the press conference, sharing the couch with him, alex, lando, charles and max. it wasn’t the worst combination in the world, but anytime you had to sit in front of a gaggle of hawk-eyed journos and a million cameras with lewis, something unfortunate usually happened. never by design, but you just weren’t very good at saving face in front of the mercedes driver.
“do you think the podium is a possibility this weekend?” someone from autosport whose name you can’t remember asks.
“i’m hoping so, just need to keep the mercs behind us again, but i don’t think that will be that hard.” you respond, without even a sliver of a filter. the material of the sofa shifts as lewis tenses up beside you, inhaling sharply at your blatant disrespect. somewhere beside you, lando sniggers, and max is rolling his eyes.
it was no secret that you didn’t have the softest spot in the world for sir lewis.
“that’s assuming your car makes it to the end of the race.” lewis clears his throat, speaking with confident conviction. you turn you head to glare at him, painfully unable to take what you give. alex slaps his hand over his mouth.
“at least my car isn’t so bad that i’d rather go and learn the alphabet down at ferrari.” you scoff. you avoid the eyes of your comms officer, because if looks could kill, you’d be six feet under already.
“i think we’ll leave it there.” tom clarkson suggests, and you stand from the panel and storm away on trembling legs with a terrible ache throbbing between them.
there’s something about the pettiness, the reasonless back and fourth you two always seem to partake in that leaves you in need of a cold shower.
-
turns out, you have to apologise.
you spend the better part of an hour being bollocked by your press team, who, for some reason, don’t find it particularly amusing that you’d somehow managed to insult the lewis hamilton, ferrari, and mercedes in the span of two sentences.
so, there you were, begrudgingly trailing towards lewis’s hotel room. it’s on the top floor, because of course it is, it’s him. he oozes expensive exclusively, naturally above the rest. you twist your rings nervously, increasingly terrified of being in a confined space alone with the gorgeous brit. your knuckles rap gently against the wood of his door, intentionally weakly. you pray he won’t hear you and that you can just disappear back into the elevator and into your room, to pathetically let you hands wander between your clenched thighs.
but god laughs, and the door swings open. lewis seems startled by your presence, just for a moment though, leaning cooly against the doorframe. his lips pull into a faint smile. two things alarm you. first of all, he’s shirtless, bare from the waist up, a plethora of delicious tattoos on display for you to feast your eyes on. secondly, and somehow even worse, he’s panting, clearly just back from a work out in the gym. he glistens with sweat, and your mind goes blank, apologetic words die on your tongue.
“something to say, angel, or are you just here to stare?” lewis teases, the words rolling off his tongue smoothly. you pray for the ground to gape open, swallow you hole, suck you into hot lava.
“well, i was gonna apologise but i don’t think you deserve it.” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest accusingly.
“didn’t think you knew how to apologise.” lewis grins sarcastically, mocking you.
“has anyone told you how arrogant you are?” you bite back, eyes narrowing.
“why don’t you come in here and i’ll show you just how arrogant i can be?” his voice has dropped a few octaves, seductive and low.
the proposition, the suggestion behind his words makes you fold immediately. you’d wondered for far too long about what he was like behind closed doors and under thick bedsheets, and if you had the chance at finding out, you’d be imbecilic not to take it.
you shove his muscled chest, pushing him back into his room. his hands find your waist, pulling harshly at the material of your loose t-shirt. he’s watching you intently, mesmerised by the angry flush on your cheeks tinging you pink. your eyes convey hunger, matching his, and you’re forcing him down to sit at the foot of his bed.
“why are you such an asshole?” you hiss, slotting your knees on either side of his so that you’re straddling him.
“probably the same reason you’re such a little bitch.” lewis growls, tugging you forward harshly on his lap. you feel his work out shorts ride up on his thighs, the material sensitive on your skin.
your pupils blow wide at his words, and you’re kissing him hard, teeth and tongues clashing messily. his lips are so soft, pillowy as they brush aggressively with your own and you lick wetly into his awaiting mouth. he’s addictive, minty, and you fall against his bare chest as he leans back into the mattress.
“i think you need to be taught some manners.” lewis grunts, flipping your bodies over like you’re nothing, and slotting against your body like a missing piece.
“i think the same could be said about you.” you breathe, sliding your hand under the waistband of his shorts. he chuckles quietly, the rumble reverberating through your own chest, cracking you open.
“try your best.” he whispers. your eyes roll back.
truth is, you’re not the most experienced person in the world. yes, you’re in your mid twenties, but a long term relationship with the worlds biggest loser and dedicating your life to a career in a boys club meant that you didn’t have the time to develop broadest set of skills. you didn’t have the luxury of letting loose in a nightclub with a stranger because if that information got into the wrong hands, you’d be slut-shamed off the face of the earth. so now, you found yourself a little bit lost under a literal sex god.
as if he can hear your thoughts, lewis pulls back.
“what’s the matter? do you want me to stop?” he’s softer than he ever has been with you, melting away in your hands, but you draw him back in, tightening your grip on the band of his shorts.
“no, no, i just…” the words die on your tongue. something in your eyes gives him all the information that he needs.
“do what feels right, good.” his nose brushes your jaw, kissing over it and you settle back into the moment.
“teach me a lesson.” you whisper, empowered in his hands, and he springs back into action, his demeanour slipping right back into what it had been.
“is that why you’re so bad in interviews? just want me to fuck some respect into you?” his lips tug amusedly when you nod rapidly up at him.
an experimental roll of his hips makes you keen, hand slipping into his braids and pulling hard. his eyes fall shut, lips parting to let out a soft groan, his eyebrows pinching from the rough pleasure. your fingers graze over the skin of his toned belly, finding sensitive skin that makes him shiver.
“you distracted, lew?” you taunt, with the only intention of riling him up.
his eyes snap open, hard and lacking any sort of warmth, and he tears your hands from where they rest on his firm body, swiftly pinning them above your head with one hand. he plants himself on one knee, balancing himself so that he can fiddle with the button of your shorts. he makes quick work of removing them, forcing the zipper down and skilfully manoeuvring them with just the one hand.
once they’re gone, along with the lace of your underwear, he forces your thighs apart, and slides his fingers along the seam of your cunt, slicking them up. you’re soaked and he momentarily falters, but he doesn’t let himself get too visibly affected.
“fuck, you’re so wet. been thinking about me, angel?” he teases mercilessly, as he rocks the first thick digit into you, twisting and curling until he finds the spot that makes you buck your hips.
“nothing to say now, hm?” lewis tuts, wetting his lips. the feeling of you squeezing so tight around just one of his fingers makes him choke out a moan. you can feel his hot breath fanning over your face, your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of him filling you up.
“more.” you breathe, stuttering over just one word. he revels in how he’s managed to reduce you to this so quickly.
“you sure you can take it, angel? so fucking tight.”
“make me.” you plead, parting your strained thighs even wider for him.
he lets go of your hands, snaking down your body to get himself closer to where you’re dripping already.
“keep them there.” lewis orders, and you grip tightly onto the pillows to exercise restraint.
lewis presses his forearm over the plush of your belly, holding you down as he adds a second finger, watching in awe as it slips so effortlessly into your pussy. you’re mewling, fighting to buck your hips but the firm press of his muscled arm keeps you in place.
“so pretty for me, angel, soaking my fingers.” he notes, entranced at how responsive you are for him.
“want you inside of me, lew.” you whine, knuckles paper white where you’re fighting off the urge to reach down and touch him.
“wait.” he snarls, ramming his fingers even harder, grinding against the soft spot buried deep. “you’re gonna cum like this first.”
with that, he removes the barricade of his arm, bringing his spare hand to your clit, the pad of his thumb drawing calloused circles into the bud. you lose it, grinding down on his fingers like a woman possessed.
“that’s it, sweetie, fuck yourself for me.” lewis encourages, voice gravelly and low.
sparks shoot down your spine, nothing but white behind your eyelids as he lights you on fire. you can’t warn him, the words lost to the tense air of the room as you barrel towards your first release. he eases you through it, not letting up even a little bit, but it pays off when you can’t help but writhe against the cream of the bedspread.
“god.” you croak, flopping limp as he pulls out, crawling over you.
“learned your lesson?”
“not quite.” you flash an exhausted grin, abandoning your grasp on the pillows to slide them down his thick frame.
you trace the lion adorning his shoulder, the compass, each piece driving you further into utter delirium. your hands graze his waist, snaking around his abdomen until you reach the cross, tracing it until you reach words that keep him going.
still i rise the cursive reads, and he shivers as you rake your nails over it.
“fuck me.” you purr. your hands slide under his shorts once more, gripping at the curve of his ass. you push the material down over his thighs, and he happily kicks them away, his inked hands roughly spreading you even wider.
“desperate little thing, bet you go home after every race and fuck yourself silly wishing it was me, hm?” he adjusts himself between your legs, his thick cock nudging against you entrance, drenching himself in the mess he’d made.
you gasp out a moan as he slides deep, taking his sweet time. you can’t even comprehend his words, totally consumed by the brutally enticing stretch of him, your thighs shaking at the delectable intrusion. he hisses at the sensation of your tight warmth, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. lewis licks over the sensitive skin, trailing open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. you feel the sharp graze of his teeth, gentle nips making you shudder on his cock.
“don’t leave a mark.” you choke, and lewis seems to get it, so he skims his teeth lower, sucking purple just over your heart.
you clamp down around him, allured by the tweak of pain, and it seems to spark something in him, his hips rolling into yours experimentally.
“you feel so fucking good.” lewis pants, his breath warm and wet on your neck.
“need you to move.” you plead, turning your head to capture his lips in an urgent kiss.
he pulls out, slamming back into you roughly, your tummy twisting with anticipation. lewis finds a rhythm that suits you both, hips hitting yours with every thrust, each one leaving you full and spent.
“gonna make sure you feel me for days.” he promises, yanking your legs over his hips. as he does, he hits deeper and you yelp, stars in your eyes. “when you sit in the car tomorrow, you’re gonna feel me and remember how to be a good fucking girl, not an attention seeking brat.”
you ramble his name, eyes flooding with tears of overstimulation, dumbfounded at how he seems to hit a new spot with every slide of his cock. he’s digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs, pulling your hips impossibly closer to his as he drives into you, as if he wants to become a part of you, moulded for an eternity. with the way your stomach knots, butterflies and adrenaline coursing through you, you’d comply; you’d let him do whatever he wanted to him anytime he wanted.
“‘m so close.” you whine, pulling on every part of him your hands can reach. a refreshed sense of determination builds in his eyes and he presses hard on your navel.
“so deep, can see it.” lewis slurs, eyes fixed on your belly.
those five words make you unravel, sending you hurtling over the edge. he can’t help but fuck you through it, hammering home while you spasm around him so tight that he struggles to move.
“fucking addicted to this pussy.” lewis groans, burying himself as deep as he can go.
you’re utterly enchanted as you watch him reach his release, gnawing at your bottom lip when his part in a moan, allowing gentle puffs of air to escape. his long eyelashes rest delicately over his cheeks as his eyes fall shut, your name spilling out of his mouth like a needy prayer.
you’re warm from the inside out, flushed and full when he settles, pressing his body weight into you completely.
-
two weeks later, you’re in japan, bored senseless in yet another press conference. lewis sits further down the couch, and you have to cross your legs every time he speaks. no one seems to notice, except him, of course.
when it’s your turn to speak, and you’re asked all about your little spat with sir lewis back in australia, you shrug, smirking.
“we made up.”
-
oof
-
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stevie-petey · 7 months ago
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episode four: dear billy
“That’s-old!” Nancy digs through her closet, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. You walk over to the poster and nod appreciatively at it. “Hey, Tom Cruise is pretty. I don’t blame you.” “Hey!” Steve waves his hands in the air, offended and completely overwhelmed. You shrug at him. “You’re the one who wants me and Max to die, so I get to call an actor hot.”
Summary: steve almost hits lucas with a lamp, you try to trick your boyfriend into a gloomy arrangement, steve and nancy have a Talk, robin suddenly becomes an academic weapon, and max threatens legal action, gets really into hallmark cards, and levitating. all in that order.
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, slight suicidal thoughts if u squint
Words: 11.7k
Before you swing in: hey gang !!! im back, wrote this severely hungover, and ive never been more excited to share a chapter with yall. dear billy is my favorite ep from season 4, the ending haunts me, so i hope i can haunt yall too <333 enjoy !
Max won’t wake up.
Your fingers grip harshly on her shoulders as you shake her. Her eyes remain vacant. There isn’t any life within them. “Max, wake up, please.”
Dustin grabs your arm, he’s never seen you so broken. “Y/N, you have to tell us what’s going on.”
“It’s–” your eyes sting with tears. The metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. You think you’ve bitten your tongue. “I-I can’t.”
You’ve forgotten how to speak, how to say anything other than Max’s name as you plead with her to come back to you. 
Steve’s hand finds your other arm. He’s trying to talk to you, telling you to steady your breathing. He tells you that you’re having a panic attack. He’s worried you’ll hurt Max or even yourself if you continue to thrash with blind fear. 
“Y/N, angel, I need you to listen to me, alright?” Steve’s breath hits your face, but you refuse to let go of Max. “We can’t help her if you’re panicking–” Suddenly, after an agonizing minute, Max breaks out of her trance. The sound of her sharp inhale echoes off the office walls. Immediately she collapses into your arms, she’s crying and hiccupping uneven breaths. 
“Y/N,” she shakes against you, you pull her even tighter into your chest. Her hands grab at your arms, your waist, anywhere they can reach. Almost as if she’s afraid you aren’t real. “Am I-am I awake?”
Your nose presses against her red hair, your arms tremble from how tightly you hold her. “You’re awake, this is real.” 
Dustin kneels next to you and Max. His tone is gentle, his eyes fill with concern. “Why wouldn’t any of this be real?”
Max pulls her face away from your body, her eyes look up at you. She’s looking for the answers you don’t have. Her eyes are still frightened, wild with fear. Her body stands on edge. Her spine stiff, her skin cold. Placing a soft hand over hers, you answer for her. “She had a vision.”
Steve’s breathing stutters, Dustin lets out a quiet curse. Max slowly starts to remove herself from you, although her hand never leaves yours. She stands up, albeit with some difficulty, and she tries to wipe away her tears. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”
“That’s okay,” you murmur to her, easing her distress. You feel as if you’re talking to an injured animal. “Let’s start with telling us what you saw. Can you do that?”
Max jerks her head, nodding. With Steve’s help, she’s able to take uncertain steps out of the office. She quietly instructs him on where to guide her. He’s careful with her, he takes his time helping her. Dustin walks next to you, his own arm extended towards you to help, but you gently decline him. 
At the end of the hallway, Max points her flashlight against the wall. “Here.”
“What was here?” Steve asks.
“A grandfather clock. It was ticking, over and over, but it,” her voice catches on fresh tears. “It isn’t here.”
Dustin looks at you, raising his eyebrows to silently ask you if you understand what Max is saying. You shake your head. There was nothing about a grandfather clock in the files you read, but it’s a detail that you can’t overlook. There has to be a reason she saw it.
Doors burst open behind you, disrupting the quiet of the night. You spin around in alarm, hand finding your knives, but you relax when you recognize the squeak of Robin’s sneakers and the click of Nancy’s heels. 
“What’s going on?” Nancy takes in the scene before her. You’re all standing against the wall, flashlights illuminating it. Fresh tears stain your face and Max’s. 
“Max, she…” Dustin sighs. He hates not having all the answers. There’s an unease that comes with not knowing. He’s spent his entire life trying to outrun it. “She saw something. A grandfather clock, I guess.”
“It was here. Right here,” Max insists, frustration in her voice.
Nancy tilts her head. “A grandfather clock?”
“It was so real.” 
You step closer to Max, your hand finding her shoulder once more. She doesn’t have to explain anything else. It’s clearly hurting her too much to do so. “Hey, you don’t have to give us all the details–”
“When I got closer, suddenly I just…” She doesn’t look at you, doesn’t listen. “I woke up.”
“It was like she was in a-a trance or something.” Dustin mumbles, before he remembers something. “It was exactly what Eddie said happened to Chrissy.”
Unease settles over the group. Eddie had been telling the truth. If there was any doubt remaining of his innocence, there’s none left now. Slowly, you watch as everyone pieces together what you and Max already know. One by one, the light in their eyes dims; Steve’s finds yours. 
The look in his eyes shatters you. The brown is coated with anguish, he’s already mourning you. He doesn’t like where this is going.
You look away. 
Max turns, her breathing quickens. Dried tears still mark her face. She looks at you, silently asking how much she should tell the others. You’re a part of this, too. It isn’t just her life in their hands. She’s giving you the choice to run, to pretend that everything is fine. To continue what you’ve been doing since senior year started. 
She wouldn’t blame you, and you know this. 
But you can’t run. Not this time. Not when Max needs you, not if somehow you can figure out a way to make sure that she survives. 
You nod at Max. 
She inhales, prepares for impact. “That’s not even the bad part.”
– 
Everyone crowds around Ms. Kelly’s office. No one dares to turn the light on. A part of you wonders if this is done consciously, if the light would make everything more real. 
“Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Ms. Kelly for help.” Max explains to Robin and Nancy, informing them of what you found. Nancy reads over the files, Robin’s eyes don’t leave your body. “Uh, they both were having headaches, bad headaches that just wouldn’t go away. And then…”
“The nightmares.” You continue, gaze not meeting anyone. You stare at the wall ahead of you. There isn’t any emotion in your voice. “Trouble falling asleep, staying asleep.”
Steve tries to get you to look at him. He remembers all the late night phone calls. He’d noticed you wince earlier in the trailer park, how you rubbed your temples and told him it was nothing. His mouth goes dry with every little detail he once dismissed. 
“And then they started seeing things,” Max doesn’t look at anyone either. Her voice shakes, she tries to hide the tears that don’t seem to go away. You grab her hand. It’s the only indication that you’re still with her, still listening. “Bad things, from their past.”
Dustin shifts uncomfortably. Last week he’d woken up to you screaming Billy’s name. He had ignored it. 
“These visions, they just kept getting worse and worse, until eventually…” Max pauses, the words refuse to come out. Her body freezes up, her stomach clenches. 
“Max,” you whisper, only it’s spoken as a promise. As a reassurance. 
She inhales again, squeezes your hand so tight that it cuts off the circulation, but you don’t let go of her. “Until eventually… everything ended.” 
Robin sees your hand in Max’s. She notes the way it’s held with an understanding, not with a condolence. She swallows. “Vecna’s curse.”
“Chrissy’s headaches started a week ago. Fred’s six days ago.” The air in the room builds into a dull roar. No one moves. Time stills. Max takes another shaky breath. Thunder has sounded, lightning is about to strike. “I’ve been having them for five days.”
Even though you knew what she was going to say, hearing the words come out of Max’s mouth chokes you. The panic from earlier returns. The frantic need to protect her, to pull her into your arms and never let go of her. 
“My headaches started two days ago,” your voice is barely above a whisper. It feels more like a confession of a sin, rather than a confession of weakness. “The night of Lucas’ game.”
The moment you’ve revealed this, Steve and Dustin simultaneously whip their heads up to look at you. Panic shadows their faces, the two of them rush towards you and nearly topple over the other to get to you. 
“No, something isn’t right.” Steve’s in denial. He doesn’t want to believe it. Neither do you. 
Dustin grabs your face, he pulls it down so he can get a better look at your eyes. “You could be dehydrated, or-or tired. Headaches are caused by a lot of things. You’re pale, you’re probably sick and this is all just conspiracy bullshit and–”
“Dustin,” you loosen his grip on you, trying your best to sound as gentle as you can. “You know it isn’t conspiracy bullshit.” His eyes wet with tears, for once in your life you don’t know how to protect him. You choke on your own tears again, breaking. “I-I’m fine, alright? We need to focus on Max right now, she’s the one who had the vision.”
“But you have all the symptoms, too!” Steve exclaims, too scared to look away from you. He can’t believe you’re saying this. He’s always known how selfless you are, but you’re in danger. You could die. Why don’t you care?
Max angrily wipes at her face. She hates that you’re already putting her ahead of yourself. She doesn’t deserve the kindness, the sacrifices you’re already making. “Look, we don’t know how much time we have to argue about this. All we know is that for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than 24 hours after their first vision, and I just saw that goddamn clock.”
“Max,” you break away from your brother and try to reach for the girl, but she’s crying again and anger clouds her vision. “Whatever you’re thinking, I promise that–”
“I’m going to die tomorrow, Y/N!” She cries out, too tired and devastated for your reassurance. 
You tug at her jacket. “You’re not dying tomorrow.”
None of this is fair. Max is too young, she’s been through too much, she’s survived too much to be manipulated like this. To have her life taken away too easily. It should’ve been you. Vecna should’ve targeted you instead of Max. He should’ve shown you the vision, cursed you before her.
Anything to keep Max alive. 
She’s about to argue with you, she knows what you’re implying, but a creak down the hall alerts you that there’s something nearby. Everyone turns towards the source of the sound, the heightened energy in the room leaves you all on edge. 
“Stay here,” Steve instructs the group, already stalking towards the door to find where the sound came from. 
You roll your eyes at him, grabbing his arm before he can leave. He’s an idiot if he thinks you won’t follow after him, fight by his side. “We’re both going.” 
Steve narrows his eyes but doesn’t argue. Instead, he nods reluctantly and points towards your knives. Understanding, you flick your wrist and extend the blades. He nods, satisfied, before he grabs a lamp from the corner and holds it up with pride. The lamp clatters loudly, it’s a stupid weapon, but you suppose it’ll have to do.
Together, the two of you slowly exit the room and creep into the hallway. The school is terrifying at night, the empty halls eerie. You walk side by side while the others trail quietly behind. The sound of footsteps rush towards you, getting louder and louder with every step.
Steve looks at you, raising his lamp to his head, and you raise your knives. You plant your feet on the ground, you brace for whatever is about to round the corner. 
A figure emerges, screaming when it nearly runs into you and Steve. The person screeches, cowering, and your knives nearly come down upon a frightened Lucas. Your arm freezes, scream dying in your throat when you realize there isn’t any danger. “Jesus fuck, Sinclair!”
The boy holds his hands up in surrender. “It’s me!”
Steve clutches his chest, pressed against you after jumping into your arms when Lucas appeared. It hadn’t been his manliest moment, he’ll admit. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m sorry,” Lucas pants, and it’s then that you notice he’s drenched in sweat.
“I nearly stabbed you!” You exclaim, feeling horrendously guilty.
Steve sputters. “Even more importantly, I could’ve taken you out with this lamp!”
“Oh, sure. The lamp definitely would’ve helped.” You mutter sarcastically, but Steve is too busy still trying to steady his heartbeat to care.
Lucas apologizes again, hunched over his knees as he tries to catch his breath. “I was biking for eight miles.” He holds a finger up, winces in pain. “Give me a second. Shit.”
Everyone looks at each other, bewildered by Lucas’ sudden appearance. Your worry grows, he’d mentioned earlier how there was something bad happening, you’d heard Jason over the radio. Cautiously you step towards him. “Please tell me you biked eight miles for fun.”
Lucas shakes his head. “We’ve got a code red.”
Your heart drops. “It’s Jason, isn’t it?”
“How do you always do that?” He wheezes, somehow still surprised when you figure everything out first. It’s what you’ve always done. He’s never been able to hide anything from you. Seeing your pointed look to cut to the chase, Lucas turns to your brother. “Dustin, she’s right. I’ve been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy, and they’ve gone totally off the rails.”
He explains the basketball team’s plan to hunt Eddie down and make him pay for what they think he did to Chrissy. When Lucas mentions how Jason is looking for Dustin now because he’s in Hellfire, all you see is red. 
“I’ll kill him,” you hiss, fingers scratching over the engraving on your knife hilt. An old nickname resides there, a remnant from an old man who told you to use the weapon with love. 
“Y/N, while I’m flattered you’d kill for me, we kinda have bigger problems than Jason now.” Dustin says nervously, turning towards Max. The reminder stabs at your skin, reignites the bitterness and remorse.
Lucas looks between you and the girl, finally realizing how quiet everyone else has been. His head turns to you for some sort of explanation, it’s instinctual within him now to go to you for advice, solace and comfort. It’s what he’s grown up doing.
Except for the first time in Lucas’ life, your eyes don’t meet his.
Max stands apart from everyone. Her eyes don’t meet his, either.
Lucas had biked all this way to save his friends. He thought the biggest monster he’d have to face was Jason and the team. He didn’t think he’d be walking into the final hours of the two girls he loves more than anything. 
– 
Nancy offers you and Max her house to stay in. Neither of you can stomach the thought of going home, facing your mothers with the knowledge that they might lose their daughters soon. 
Dustin, Steve, and Robin refuse to leave your side. Lucas refuses to leave Max’s.
The seven of you stand awkwardly in the Wheeler’s kitchen as Nancy asks her mother permission to have you all spend the night. Her mothers greets you all kindly as she always does, albeit confused as to why half of Hawkins is spending the night at her house. “I mean, do we have the room, Nance?”
“We’ll all fit in the basement.” Nancy reassures. “We just figured it’s safer this way, sticking together.”
Mrs. Wheeler coos with sentiment and relaxes her shoulders. “Oh, alright. It’s scary, what’s happening out there right now. I understand.”
You give a weak smile to her. “We really appreciate your hospitality, Mrs. Wheeler.”
She smiles back at you and gently ushers everyone downstairs. As you descend the steps, you realize that she’s right. It’ll be a tight fit with everyone, the couch is barely large enough to comfortably sit three people. 
But the smell of the basement is familiar, earthy and safe. It’s been a long time since you’ve been down here. You used to spend countless nights in the basement ever since you were twelve. The boys always insisted you join their campaigns. You’d always drag Jonathan with you. There’s so much laughter within these walls, tears and the hardships of growing up. 
“Where are we all gonna fit?” Dustin sits down on the couch, eyeing the space around him.
Conversation breaks out as the sleeping arrangements are assigned. It’s nearly a heated debate, no one wants to be separated from you and Max. The girl stands off in the corner, barely listening, and you can’t help but do the same. As Dustin and Robin bicker over who gets to sleep on the couch, you use the distraction as an opportunity to slip away upstairs. 
The night air is cool against your cheeks as you sit on the Wheeler’s porch. The quiet is welcomed, your body aches with the need to have a moment to yourself. You don’t know how late it is, you wonder if your mother is asleep right now. Dustin had called her when you arrived at the Wheeler’s. He had given her the same excuse you’d given Mrs. Wheeler about wanting to stick together in a group. 
You wonder if your death will be what finally breaks your mother. The heartbreak of the divorce had weakened her, the death of her daughter would kill her. But Dustin will need his mother; he can’t grieve you alone.
With everything going on, all the revelations and despair, you haven’t had the time to properly come to terms with what’s happening; the weight of it sits deep within your chest.
The target on Max, on you. 
Steve finds you on the porch with your knees curled into your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible. His heart tightens at the sight. Slowly, he sits down next to you. The warmth of his body simmers your skin, his presence quells the dull roar inside you. 
Your head falls against his shoulder. It’s quiet between you. All there seems to be these days between you and Steve is silence.
Fireflies flicker in the distance. You close your eyes, pretending they’re shooting stars, and wish for the end to be kind to you. 
“Remember the last time we were on the Wheeler’s porch together?” Steve whispers into the quiet of the night. You shake your head against him. He grabs your hand, plays with your fingers as he watches the fireflies. “Almost four years ago I found you here while I was looking for Nance. You’d been looking for Jonathan, but you tried lying about it.”
You manage a small laugh, remembering faintly the night he’s referring to. Hearing the laugh, Steve feels just a little bit stronger, more grounded. He continues. “You’ve never been a very good liar.”
“No,” you agree.
“That night… well, it was awful.” Faint bitterness leaks into Steve’s words. He remembers how hurt he’d been, finding Nancy wrapped around Jonathan. His girl underneath the creep’s arm. He remembers the anger that quickly followed, how heavily it consumed him. “Thought I’d been cheated on, and it was a pretty shitty feeling.”
Your finger skims over his knuckles. There’s a faint scar on them from his fight with Jonathan. You remember the anger from that night, too. The violence that followed it. You’re not sure why Steve’s is telling you all of this, though. 
“Nancy never did cheat on you, you know.” You softly remind him.
Steve chuckles, pulls you closer into his side. “I know that now. But that night, it just-it really fucking hurt, you know? Thought I’d never feel anything shittier, that my night couldn’t get any worse. But then… I saw your face.”
He swallows, shivers at the feeling of your fingers tracing his scars. “When I saw you standing there, all alone, the way your face fell when I told you about Jonathan,” Steve shakes his head. “The heartbreak on your face, that fact that I couldn’t do anything to protect you from it. That’s what hurt me the most.”
A heartbeat of silence, it almost deafens you, before he finally says, “And it’s why I won’t let anything else happen to you.” 
Your heart constricts at Steve’s promise. You know he means it, that he’ll die defending his oath, and that’s what terrifies you the most out of everything that’s happened tonight. 
Steve and Dustin will do whatever they can to keep you safe. They don’t want to lose you, they can’t lose you. They’ll burn themselves up if it means you’ll survive, but you don’t want them to. You don’t want any of this. 
All you want is for Max to survive. 
“Steve,” your head lifts up, he turns to look at you. Meeting his eyes, all you see within the brown is grief. It’s a funny thing, feeling someone’s grief for you within their gaze; it burns. “You have to protect Max.”
“Y/N–”
“No, you-you have to promise me, alright?” Your hand rests against Steve’s chest, he tries to cave into you but you won’t allow him any closer. Not like this, not when you need him to make a promise you know he can’t keep. 
Steve presses his head against yours and he breathes you in. He’s shaking against you. “I don’t…. I don’t know what you want from me.” He’d do anything for you. Whatever you ask of him, he’ll do it. 
“Promise me that if it–” your breath catches, your lips quiver with hesitancy. It isn’t fair, none of this is fucking fair. “Promise me that if it comes down to me or Max, you’ll choose her.”
Steve’s body retracts from yours as if he’s been stung. His heart is racing, a roar deafens his ears. He can’t breathe, his eyes can’t leave yours, he doesn’t know what to do. You’ve already given up. You’ve already decided to give your life in exchange for Max’s, and Steve doesn’t know what to do.
He’s never been able to say no to you. 
“Angel,” the cry is so soft, so heartbroken, that for a moment your resolve slips. You almost reach towards Steve, caress his cheek and apologize over and over again for making him do this. Your lips can feel his skin against them, but you don’t press against it; you don’t allow yourself to.
“Please,” You’re crying. The tears fall freely down your face, too tired to stop them. All day you’ve held them in, put up a front for your brother and Max. They can’t know how terrified you are. They need you, they can’t see you like this, but here, alone with Steve, you finally break. 
Seeing your tears, Steve finally wraps his arms around your body and just holds you. You cry for a long, long time. Everything comes out, then. The anger, always within you, that threatens to boil over, the heartbreak of losing Jonathan, the guilt of leaving Dustin behind soon, how the guilt intensifies when you think about letting Max die instead. 
You’ve been here before. 
“I’m choosing you, Y/N.” Steve whispers, lips pressed softly against your hair. Your body stiffens, he feels it, but he holds you tighter instead. “I’ll always choose you.”
“Steve…”
“Please don’t make me say no to you.” He pulls away, grabs your face and makes you look at him. You’re pale, tears wet your lovely face, and all Steve wants to do is fall asleep with you forever. He strokes the crest of your eyebrow, kisses your forehead. “Please don’t make me lose you.”
There’s more Steve wants to say. He wants to refuse you, he wants to scream, he wants to demand an explanation from you. There’s a mark on you that he would give anything to erase. How could you possibly think Steve could ever make a promise like that? To agree to let you die, as if your life isn’t worth everything to him.
The anger in Steve’s eyes startle you. His voice is frail, his body weak, but his eyes are alive with a deep fury as he looks at you. Pleads with you. The anger closes your throat, renders you speechless. 
You know that there’s nothing you can say that will change Steve’s mind. You’ve come to a stalemate. A tie between two ends of desperate halves. 
“I’m tired,” your voice cracks. It’s the closest you’ll come to admitting anything else. Another headache is forming, all you want to do is sleep in Steve’s arms. “Can we go to bed, please?”
I don’t want to fight anymore. 
Steve can see the weight of exhaustion that crushes you, and he sighs, nodding. “Yeah, angel. Whatever you want. I convinced Robin to give us the couch.”
I’ll do whatever you want, as long as I get to hold you in the end.
You nod back at him. The unspoken words settle between you, they linger in the shadows, but for tonight they’re put to rest. Lifting your arms up, you silently demand to be carried, and Steve can’t help but laugh softly. He stands up, bends down to scoop you up, and carries you back inside the Wheeler home. 
The basement couch is small, the two of you hardly fit, but neither of you mind. It’s an excuse to be as close as possible, a reason to tuck your chin into the crevice of Steve’s neck, absolving him to wrap his arms around you, as if he can shield you from the horrors that will come.
– 
Steve wakes up to whispering.
His eyes blearily open, his body twists in a sleepy haze. He’d been having a good dream. You were in it, you were laughing in his ear. It’d been a warm, spring day. Just the two of you. But he’s awake now, and when he looks down he finds you sound asleep on his chest. 
“Do you really think…?” Another whisper, and Steve squints against the dark to figure out who it is. Lucas and Dustin are snoring together on the ground. Max is in the armchair, her small frame wrapped around the cushioning. 
“I don’t know,” a different voice whispers, and this time Steve thinks it’s Robin. The dim lighting muddles away and he can see the outline of her nose. He thinks she’s talking to Nancy, she’s the only other person who could be awake right now. “But it’s Y/N, I-I’m worried, you know?”
Nancy nods. “She wouldn’t–” She pauses, sensing that someone is listening. Suddenly Steve can feel her eyes land on him. He’s been caught. 
Clearing her throat, Nancy excuses herself from Robin and walks towards the couch. She stops just out of Steve’s reach. He doesn’t move, his arms don’t leave your body. For a moment they stare at one another. Robin busies herself in the corner, leaving the two of them alone. 
Steve doesn’t remember the last time he was alone with Nancy. Her presence makes him uncomfortable, the history between them heavy. He still holds so much admiration and love for the girl, he always will, but he doesn’t know what to do with all the excess love now that they aren’t together. They never really got the chance to be friends, and it’s something Steve regrets every day.
He’s sure they would’ve been the best of friends. Maybe similar to you and Jonathan. 
The thought startles Steve, almost as much as the question that falls from Nancy’s pink lips. “How are you dealing with, you know…?” 
She motions softly towards you, still asleep. Your head is tucked against Steve’s neck and your breathing is steady. He rubs the length of your spine. He isn’t sure what to say to Nancy. How to answer her question in a way that won’t betray your trust. He knows what you’ve told him tonight was meant only for his ears.
But Steve is terrified of what you’ve revealed to him. 
“She wants us to focus on Max.” He finally whispers, the confession clings to his lips in deceit. “Not… not on her.”
Nancy nods, as if she was expecting Steve to say this. Her eyes harden slightly, though the crease between her brows soften with understanding. “Y/N already decided who we’ll save, hasn’t she?”
Steve swallows, he avoids her gaze. It’s all the confirmation Nancy needs. She nods again, she stares down at you and is struck by how young you look in the moonlight. She’s older than you by only a few months, and yet tonight Nancy feels as if there’s years that stretch between you. 
“She’ll try to sacrifice herself.” It isn’t a question, though Nancy still pauses as if to give Steve a moment to respond. They both know the answer. Anyone who has ever known you would know the answer. When Steve doesn’t say anything, she sighs. “I’m not surprised.”
You’ve always been so devoted to the ones you love. 
Nancy remembers the day she met you, how shy she’d been back then. There was a hardness within you, when you first moved to Hawkins, though Nancy never blamed you. Being twelve is difficult, and she saw the softness that was underneath the hard exterior that would one day resurface. 
When Mike was ten, a year after you entered his life, he broke his arm riding his bike. It’d been raining and his wheel caught on the curb. Nancy hadn’t been home at the time, spending the day at Barb’s. When she returned home to find you diligently wrapping his cast with plastic bags so that he could shower, Nancy was almost angry to see you taking such tender care of her brother. It was supposed to be her job. 
But the anger was gone the moment you smiled up at Nancy and asked if she’d like to help. You’d included her with such ease, made room for her where Nancy had thought there was none. 
For years this pattern followed. The boys adored you, you quickly became their favorite sibling out of the party. Often Nancy would find you in her basement, surrounded by the boys as you joined their campaigns or delivered them the cookies they always fought over. 
If one of them was sick, you’d spend hours by their side, spoon feeding them medicine. When Lucas chipped his front tooth, you were the first to react and call his parents to pick him up. When Will spilled water all over a drawing he’d spent weeks on, you helped him recreate the art piece. It’d taken you hours, but you never once complained. When Dustin lost his favorite model rocket, you biked two hours to find him a replacement. 
Over and over again you gave everything to everyone you’ve ever met. 
“She’s always been selfless. It’s what I admire the most about her.” Nancy says delicately. It’s the truth. For years she’s watched you, always at a distance. She’s never understood how you do it, how you can give so much of yourself to others without any cost. “But sometimes, I-I hate the selflessness as well.”
Because the cost has come; the cost will be your life for Max’s. 
Steve brushes a strand of hair from your face. Sometimes he hates how selfless you are, too. “I can’t lose her, Nance.”
The pained words litter papercuts into Nancy’s skin. She watches the way Steve’s fingers skim your face with gentle passivity. She’s never seen him so soft with anyone, not even when he was with her. The thought makes her stomach twist. 
Jonathan is soft with Nancy, he always has been. For the first time since he’s moved, she’s happy he’s in California. She doesn’t know what she’d do if he were here in Hawkins, marked by some creature in the Upside Down that wants to kill him. 
“I’m sorry,” Nancy breathes out. She can’t imagine what Steve’s going through, all the fear and guilt that must burden him. She wishes she could say something else, anything else, but what more can Nancy say? You could die soon. None of it is fair. 
Steve is quiet. He still doesn’t look at Nancy, he hardly even acknowledges her presence. She knows he doesn’t do this with malice. He’s overwhelmed, mourning someone who is still alive. Figuring he needs some space, Nancy tries to leave. “I’m sure you’re exhausted, I’m sorry Robin and I woke you up. Go back to sleep–
“I’d follow her to the end of the world if she asked me to.” Steve says, stroking your hair. “Even if that means fighting some asshole in the Upside Down, I will.”
The corners of Nancy’s mouth turn upwards, a small smile that she doesn’t bother to hide. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out, without going to the Upside Down. Stick to our own universe. I’m sure Y/N would agree with me.”
“Yeah,” Steve chuckles, careful not to disturb you. “I’m sure she would.”
You stir in your sleep. Although you don’t wake up, Steve hums softly. It’s a melodic tune, one Nancy has never heard before, but he does it without thinking. His body eases into the song, your body relaxes again. 
“There you go,” he whispers into your ear, tightening his arms around you as you drift back to sleep. It’s an intimate moment, too intimate to watch. Nancy takes it as her cue to leave. 
“Goodnight, Steve.”
He smiles up at her, rests his head against yours. “Goodnight, Nance.”
– 
Dustin forgets how different he and Steve are. 
While he thinks the guy is cool and all, and he can’t deny how happy he makes you, Dustin could really do without Steve’s obsessive worrying. He’s constantly stressed about something, regardless of the situation. He’s all heart, always carried away by his instincts. Dustin is the opposite, he’s logical and uses reasoning to figure things out. 
Which means that all morning Dustin has been reading the newspaper printings that Nancy found. He’s been quietly taking notes on Victor Creel ever since the sun came up. He knows that if he does all the research, read in between the lines, that he’ll be able to save you. Dustin refuses to let you or Max die; he’s always been able to crack a complex problem. 
Meanwhile, all Steve has done is pace the floor, mumbling to himself, for hours. 
It’s driving Dustin insane. 
“It’s pretty straightforward.” He says to Steve, who still isn’t able to understand where Victor Creel falls into all of this. “Everyone Vecna has cursed has died, except for this old Victor Creel dude Nancy found. He’s the only known survivor; if anyone knows how to beat this curse, it’s him.”
“Okay, I seriously don’t like talking about the whole ‘death’ part,” Steve rubs his eyes. He hates thinking about it, he hates how apathetic you were last night about sacrificing yourself. When you woke up this morning, you didn’t mention last night to him. Instead, you’d strayed towards Max and haven’t left her side since. “There being only one known survivor really doesn’t make me feel any better about Max and Y/N being cursed.”
He should be doing more. Steve knows he can do better, that he can find something if he just tries harder. Then, skimming the newspaper lines again, his eyebrows draw in. “Which is even assuming Victor was cursed. How can Vecna have even existed back in the ‘50s? It doesn’t make any sense.”
There’s too many unknowns. They drown Steve and pierce his skin. 
Dustin explains his theory about how El hadn’t really created the Upside Down but instead opened a gate to it. “I wouldn't be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs.” 
Steve scoffs and Lucas drops his own print of the newspaper back onto the couch. “But if there wasn’t a gate in the ‘50s, how did Vecna get through?”
“And how is he getting through now?” Steve adds, nodding at the teen.
“And why now?”
“And why then?” Steve’s arms drop to his side, he’s getting worked up again. Nothing adds up. “Just pops out in the ‘50s, kills one family, and then just disappears, only to return 30 years later and start killing random teens? Targeting my girlfriend?” 
Dustin drops his head into his hands. His own head hurts, Steve admittedly brought up some good points. Still, he also doesn’t like the idea of Vecna marking you. “She’s my sister, you know. I could be an only child soon.”
“And yet you’re annoyingly calm about all of this,” sitting down, Steve crosses his legs and sends a pointed look Dustin’s way. “A little humility now and then wouldn’t hurt you.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Next time my sister gets cursed by some demonic being, I’ll sob on my hands and knees and get absolutely nothing done like you are!” 
Lucas shoves Dustin’s shoulder and motions over towards the corner desk where you and Max sit. “Would you two shut up? They’re gonna hear you.”
Dustin and Steve turn to where Lucas points, the anger in them dies out. All morning you’ve been with Max at the desk. The girl furiously scribbles on paper while you sit next to her, silent. 
Max hasn’t said anything for hours, but she also hasn’t asked you to leave her alone. You think she wants you close to her just as much as you want her close to you. The presence of the other is calming, even if you can’t bring yourself to ask what Max is writing. You’re afraid that you already know. 
“Did they sleep?” Dustin mumbles, noticing the slouch in your posture and the bags underneath your eyes. 
Lucas winces. “I mean, would you?”
“Y/N slept for a little bit last night, but…” Steve looks down at his hands. He’d woken up to you having a nightmare. It’d taken him nearly five minutes to calm you down afterwards. “It wasn’t enough.”
All three boys stare at you and Max. They don’t know what to do, they’ve never had to handle a loss like this before. A silence falls over them, but it’s soon broken by the sound of Nancy’s heels running down the stairs as Robin follows. 
“Okay, so.” She beams, so does Robin, and for a moment Steve is foolish enough to have hope. “We have a plan.”
– 
As always, Nancy’s plan is brilliant. It’s also extremely illegal, but you’ve come to accept this about the girl. You flit through the fake transcripts she’s presented you. “These are impressive, they look so real.”
Robin taps your nose. “Thank Nancy’s newspaper minions.”
“You think they could make me one?” You ask, eying the high GPA Nancy and Robin allegedly have and their years of research expertise. “Might need it for grad school.”
“Why would you even need one? Nance and I are now rock-star psychology students at Notre Dame. We can just write you a killer recommendation letter as Ruth and Rose.”
You tilt your head at Nancy, a teasing smile on your face. “I take it you’re Ruth, huh?” She shrugs, smiling as well. Your eyes catch on the area of research on the transcripts, and you snort. “Schizophrenia? Y’all couldn’t come up with something less on the nose?”
“You were asleep and it was all we could think of.” Nancy rolls her eyes at you and clears her throat, finally continuing with her explanation. “Anyways, we called Pennhurst Asylum and told them we’d like to speak with Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics–”
“And I’m sure they denied you.” Crossing your arms, you lean against the seat you share with Steve. When Robin tells you that they did, you snort. “I would’ve warned you had I known. No way would an asylum let two random undergrads speak with a patient. It violates, like, every patient privacy law there is.”
Nancy crosses her own arms and smirks at you. “True, but we were able to land a three o’clock with the director.”
“I don’t know why I ever doubt you.” You amend, and Nancy laughs. Robin finishes explaining the plan and how they’ll try to charm the director to let them see Creel. Your eyes wander towards Max, who still sits at the desk as she writes. Sighing, you nod at Nancy. “It’s a risky plan that relies heavily on luck, but I think it’s worth it if it means we can get rid of Max’s curse.”
“And yours,” Nancy reminds you gently. 
You don’t look at her, pretending not to have heard. An awkward silence falls upon the group. Steve looks to Dustin for help, but the kid can only shrug. Not wanting to burn through the small hope he’s feeling, Steve clears his throat. “Well, we’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework and, um. Have some questions of our own.”
“Lots of questions.” Lucas echoes. 
Nancy sighs. “So do we. Hopefully Victor has the answers.”
“Maybe I can help,” you offer, looking between Nancy and Robin. “I mean, I’m kinda the only one here who understands psychology. I doubt either of you even know what the DSM stands for.”
Robin sticks her tongue out at you. “Of course I know what it stands it, obviously it’s the diagnosed s’many m’people.” 
You throw a pen at the girl and she dodges, giggling. While the two of you bicker, Steve looks through the fake transcripts and quickly realizes something. “Wait a second, there’s only two in here. Where’s mine?”
Nancy squirms in her seat and avoids his eyes; Robin does the same. You tilt your head at Steve and narrow your own eyes. He recoils slightly, sensing that he’s upset you somehow. Before an argument can arise, Nancy claps her hands and stands up suddenly.
“Alright, I guess that’s settled, then.”
“No, no way is anything settled.” Steve stands up too, now following Nancy as she tries to flee upstairs. They’re gone within seconds, leaving you and Robin alone with the kids. 
Picking at your nails, you share a weary look with Robin. “Is it even worth following?”
“Probably not,” she knocks her shoulder against yours and motions for you to start walking up the basement steps. “But Steve will talk Nancy’s ears off if we don’t intervene.”
Knowing she’s right, you tell Dustin and the others to stay in the basement while you try to talk some sense into your boyfriend. The boys snicker at this, though Max is still writing in the corner. Following Robin upstairs, you can hear Steve’s whining long before you get to Nancy’s room.
“Nancy, you’re out of your mind if you think I’m babysitting, again.” 
You try really hard not to take offense to this. Steve is being exceptionally difficult this morning and you’re slightly pissed off that he seems so butthurt over Nancy not wanting him to tag along. You’re the one who is cursed and in danger. You need Steve right now. Not her.
Faintly, in the back of your mind you wonder if all this anger within you has something to do with Vecna. The jealous vitriol is foreign, the insecurity that follows it is disarming. You’ve been hurt before, you’ve felt anger before, but never like this.
“Nice to know that you view staying with your endangered girlfriend as babysitting, Steve.” You say as you walk through Nancy’s doorway, highly unamused. 
He spins around and nearly chokes when he sees you. “Okay, no. That’s not at all how I meant. I-I just mean–”
“Oh my God,” Robin bursts into the room and immediately rushes towards something on the wall. “You have a Tom Cruise poster!” She admires it for a moment before realizing that this is Nancy’s room, and her interest grows. With a smirk, she turns to the girl. “Wait, you have a Tom Cruise poster. 
“That’s-old!” Nancy digs through her closet, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
You walk over to the poster and nod appreciatively at it. “Hey, Tom Cruise is pretty. I don’t blame you.”
“Hey!” Steve waves his hands in the air, offended and completely overwhelmed.
You shrug at him. “You’re the one who wants me and Max to die, so I get to call an actor hot.”
“I never said that!” He shrieks, hands finding his hair as he tugs harshly at it. Everything is coming out wrong. Nothing he does is ever right. Isn’t that what his father always tells him? 
Panicked, Steve rushes towards you and grabs your hands. His eyes plead with you. “Angel, you gotta believe me, alright? I-I just don’t want to stand around while you’re in danger. I have to do something, and-and maybe I can be helpful with this asylum director dude, right?”
“Steve…” But he doesn’t hear you. 
“I don’t know, I could turn my-my charm on,” he rambles on, pulling you close and closer as he talks. “Just, please don’t think I want to leave you. God, I don’t. But I’m going crazy without answers and I–”
“Honey,” even though Nancy and Robin are watching, you grab the back of Steve’s neck and pull his head down into your neck. Your other hand wraps around his body, hugging him as tightly as you can. He’s spiraling, overthinking everything. “Breathe with me. Can you do that?”
He nods weakly, nose pressed to your skin. In and out he breathes with you. With every breath he exhales, your anger towards him dims. Steve had only been trying to help. That’s all he’s ever wanted to do for you; help you. 
“Now,” you gently pull away after his breathing has steadied. “While you’re charming, I doubt your charm will be what Nancy and Robin need.”
“Ouch,” he quietly says, a hint of laughter in his voice. 
Nancy tries to ease any remaining tension. “She’s right, Steve. I did a little digging last night, and it turns out this Dr. Hatch is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a Harvard visiting scholar… If anything, we could use Y/N’s charm more.”
“Normally I’d love to win someone like Dr. Hatch over.” You admit, biting your lip. The man sounds incredible. You’d kill to meet him, to actually speak to someone so distinguished in the psychology field. There’s so many questions you have, hundreds of journals and published papers you’d love to ask him about. 
Then you remember Max’s messy handwriting and the exhaustion in her eyes. The tear marks on her face, how she hadn’t wanted you to leave her side all morning. You can’t possibly leave her right now.
“But I have to stay with Max.” 
Robin, Steve, and Nancy all look at one another. Their expressions are similar, yet unreadable. They’re in some unspoken agreement that you aren’t a part of. Your skin warms with discomfort. Without meaning to, you look towards Steve and silently beg him to stay with you. 
Everything is weird and scary and you’ve been marked by some goddamn monster from the Upside Down who wants you and Max to die. Every bone inside you leaks cortisol and your body drips acid terror. 
Yet the only thing you want right now is for Steve to be here, next to you, holding your hand through it all. 
“If you’re staying, I’m staying.” He finally says, promising you. 
You release the breath you’d been holding. He exhales with you and your hand finds his. Lacing your fingers together, the pounding in your head quiets. 
“Not to ruin this lovely moment, but there’s a tiny ballerina in here.” Robin opens a jewelry box she found and it begins to play soft music. 
Nancy glares at her while you laugh. Steve rolls his eyes at his friend. “While I’m all for staying here, how are we going to turn ballerina girl over here into an academic scholar?”
“I might be able to give a brief overview of psychology to y’all?” You offer, but even you know that there wouldn’t be enough time. 
“Or, we could do this.” Nancy pulls a frilly, pink dress from her closet. It’s covered in ruffles and she holds it up, pointing towards Robin. Her eyebrows are raised in amusement, she barely hides her pleased snicker.
Robin stares at the dress, utterly speechless. “Oh, please tell me you’re joking.”
“It’s very… pink?” 
“Shut up, Y/N.”
“At least I tried.”
– 
After Nancy and Robin leave for Pennhurst, you find yourself pretending to read a comic while Lucas, Steve, and Dustin stare at you. They sit across from you on the basement couch while Max remains at the desk. 
You try to ignore them, but their beady little eyes make your skin crawl. When they aren’t staring at you, they’re staring at Max. You feel their eyes drift from you to her, over and over again. 
“Would you guys stop it?” You finally snap, slamming your comic down onto the coffee table.
The boys jump, all grabbing various items to try and appear nonchalant. Lucas holds a newspaper up and smiles awkwardly, Dustin yanks a book from the table and flips to a random page, and Steve tosses a baseball into the air as if he’d been doing so all along. They all look away, heads turned in opposite directions.
“What, did you say something?” Steve asks coyly. 
Max turns in her seat. “We know you guys are staring at us.”
“We’re just hanging out,” Steve tosses the ball again and Lucas nods. 
You roll your eyes at them. “Yeah, real convincing.”
“How you guys think your eyes boring into our skin is protecting Y/N and I from Vecna, I don’t know.” Max mumbles, collecting the paper she’s been writing on all morning. 
She walks over to the sitting area and you poke her shoulder playfully, hoping to get her to laugh. “Ignore them, they’re idiots.” When she stands before the boys and no one lifts their head to look at the two of you, you sigh. “Okay, now you’re taking this too literally.”
“You can look at us now.” Max says, to which all the boys sigh in relief. 
“Thank you,” Dustin breathes out while Steve and Lucas mutter quiet apologies. 
“Is there anything you need?” You ask the girl, noting that she’s carried her papers over to where everyone sits. 
Max nods, taking a deep breath, before extending her arm. “Yeah, I need you to take this.”
In her hand is an envelope with your name written on it. She gives one to Dustin, too. Then Lucas and Steve. The envelope is heavy in your hands. Though you suspected what Max had spent her morning doing, the reality of the goodbye letter in your hand makes your stomach twist. 
“Oh, and um. Can you give these to Mike, El, and Will?” Max asks you, handing three additional letters to you. “If you can ever get a hold of them again.”
Your head moves numbly, you think you manage to nod. Nausea wracks your skull. 
Dustin goes to open his letter and Max quickly stops him. “Woah, hey. That’s not for now. Don’t open it now.”
Your brother raises his eyebrows but does as he’s told, putting the letter back in the envelope. He squints at Max, confused, and holds up his letter. “I’m sorry, what is this?” “It’s, um…” Max looks down, clearly uncomfortable. Her eyebrows pinch together and she can’t seem to say anything else.
“They’re goodbye letters.” You answer for her, staring down at your own letter. A part of you wants to burn it, to never read its content, but the other, smaller part of you wonders what she could’ve written for you. After all the times you’ve failed Max, you’re sure she struggled to say anything nice about you.
Steve makes a pained, surprised sound. “Goodbye letters?” “It’s more like a fail-safe. For after.” Max tries to amend, as if her explanation makes the bitter taste sting less. “If things don’t work out.”
Lucas sits up in alarm. “Max, things are gonna work out.”
“No!” She exclaims, angry. “No, I don’t need you to reassure me right now and tell me it’s all gonna work out.”
“But Max, we will figure it out, alright? We will, there isn’t any reason to not–”
“People have been telling me that everything will work out my entire life, Y/N!” Max cuts you off. Her cheeks are red, her body is stiff. “And it’s almost never true. It’s never true. I mean, of course this asshole curses me.”
Suddenly all the fight within her leaves. The hurt comes back, the fear. Max looks away in shame. “I mean, for Y/N it doesn’t make any sense. But for me? I should’ve seen that one coming.”
She stands in front of you with tears in her eyes. The deafening silence that follows haunts you. Lucas can’t speak, Dustin and Steve don’t know what to say. And you? All you can do is swallow back your own tears and remind yourself that you’re here for Max. That she needs you. 
“You aren’t being fair to yourself.” You say gently, reaching out to grab her hand; but she pulls away instead. You blink away your tears and move towards her, you want nothing more than to wrap her in your arms forever and never let go. “Max, I’m serious. You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve half of what life has given you. I’m sorry that you’ve come to think otherwise.”
Max turns away as if she hadn’t heard you. Instead of responding, she turns around and walks towards a discarded table. Her eyes land on something. Picking it up, she holds up one of Dustin’s radios. “If we go to East Hawkins, will this reach Pennhurst?”
Dustin informs her that it will while Steve is hesitant. “Why are we talking about East Hawkins?”
Max stares at him, and at the same time, you and Steve realize what she’s asking: she wants to leave the Wheeler home. “No!” You both say, but Max is already grabbing her backpack and walkman. Cursing, you follow after her. 
“Max, wait!” She’s frustratingly fast and it isn’t until you’re outside that you catch up to her. Grabbing her arm, you force her to stop. “Hey, listen to me–’
“I’m not driving you anywhere.” Steve cuts through, frantic as well. Lucas and Dustin trail behind, not at all willing to argue with Max.
“If the two of you think I’m going to spend what is likely the last day of my life in the armpit that is Mike Wheeler’s basement, then you’re out of your mind.” Max rips her arm from your grasp and marches towards Steve’s car. 
“If you would just listen, I can–” But again Max interrupts you.
“Either take me where I need to go or tie me down, which is technically kidnapping of a minor.”
Steve looks at you in bewilderment at what Max has said, but you’re too busy running after her and huffing with annoyance. “Steve has already kidnapped a minor, he’s a professional at this point.”
“Hey!”
Max continues towards the car. “Well then tell your boyfriend that if I live to see another day, I swear to God, I will prosecute.” She tries to open the door, but it’s locked. “Open the door.”
Steve looks at her as if she’s insane. “Uh, no.”
“I know a good lawyer.”
“Where the hell are you meeting good lawyers in Hawkins?” You shove yourself in between them and glare at Max. You shake your head at her. “Anyways, if you had stopped for five seconds, I would’ve told you that I agree with you and that I would talk to Steve for you.”
Max looks at you, surprised. “Wait, you’re freeing me?”
“Okay, the Wheeler basement isn’t a prison, but yes.” You turn to Steve, who has already started to protest. “And as for you, you’re going to do what Max says.”
“But–”
“No.”
“Y/N!” 
“Unlock the car, Steve.”
He stares at you. You stare back, standing your ground. Max crosses her arms and joins you, daring Steve to argue. He sees the tension in your jaw, the determined look in your eyes, and he throws his head back and groans. “God, I hate this.”
You smile at him evilly; you knew he’d give in. “Keys, please.”
Steve digs through his pocket and tosses the keys to you, annoyed. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”
You unlock the door and beckon for Max to get in. She thanks you, and you wink at her. Skipping over to the passenger’s side, you get in with grand flourish, leaving Steve alone with the boys. 
Lucas smirks and Dustin outright laughs in Steve’s face. “Dude, she so owns you.”
“Zip it,” he snaps his fingers. He doesn’t at all have the energy for this. “Little Henderson, that super walkie of yours better reach Pennhurst.”
And with one last threatening glare at your brother, Steve finally gets into the car. The engine roars to life. Soon, the Wheeler’s home fades into the distance. 
– 
The air in the car is tense. 
Lucas, Dustin, and Max all sit in the back while you sit next to Steve. He’s playing one of his old mixes and the music is the only sound within the car. Max stares out the window, turned away from everyone. 
When Steve pulls up in front of her trailer, he parks the car and faces her. “This better be fast, Mayfield.” “Steve!” You hit his arm, berating him. “She’s here for her mother.” “It’s fine, Y/N.” Max unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out. “I’ll be twenty seconds.”
The door slams and you pull out your own walkman. You’re anxious, being alone with the boys. You know they want to ask you a million questions, but for the first time in your life, you don’t think you have it in you to lie to them for their own comfort. 
Before you can hit play on Jonathan’s mixtape, you feel multiple pairs of eyes on you. Looking up, you find that you’re once again being stared at by Steve, Dustin, and Lucas. “What?”
Your brother clears his throat. “No, uh. Visions yet?”
“No, Dustin.” Though you both know that if it did happen, you wouldn’t tell him. Putting on your headphones, you push play and allow the music to slowly creep over you. The conversation ends there.
Steve says something to Dustin, you don’t hear nor pay attention to it. The Beatles sing and you can finally breathe. You miss Jonathan more than anything, but the pain of missing him is now tainted with the ache of guilt. 
After a few minutes, unable to sit still, you all stand outside Steve’s car and wait. Your foot taps the ground and Steve checks his watch every few seconds. When you see Max round the corner, you sigh with relief.
“Hey, that was longer than twenty seconds.” Steve says, relief flooding his own voice.
You’re about to tease her, but then you realize how pale she is. She doesn’t look good, her breathing is irregular and she’s fighting back tears. Worried, you try to stop her. “Woah, what happened? Are you okay?”
Only Max storms past you and flings herself into the car. “I’m fine, just drive.”
“Is she…?” Steve looks at you helplessly. He doesn’t know what the right call here is. Max is clearly upset about something, she’s visibly shaking, and yet she still insists on pretending that she’s fine. 
All you can do is shake your head at Steve, just as helpless. “I don’t know, but we just… We have to be there for her.”
He nods solemnly before getting back into the car. Before he drives away, Lucas asks Max if something happened, and again she lies through her teeth. You try to catch her eye in the rearview mirror, but she adamantly stares out the window once more. 
Soon the only sound in the car is Max giving quiet directions. With every instruction she gives Steve, the more the string in your chest constricts. You’re going deeper and deeper into west Hawkins. It’s mostly woods, Hopper’s cabin is close by. 
It’s also where the cemetery resides. 
“Turn here.”
Dustin looks at Max, reluctant. “Here?”
She nods as the Roane Hill Cemetery sign greets everyone. Steve inhales deeply, but he doesn’t say anything as he turns. You grip the edge of the seat, bile rising in your throat. It’s been a long time since you’ve been here.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” You ask Max, breathing through your nose to try and settle the ache in your stomach. 
She doesn’t acknowledge your question; she jumps out of the car as soon as it stops. Before you can run after her, Lucas is already scrambling to follow her. He chases after her, says something to her, but you can’t hear anything. 
“What’s going on, why did Max take us here?” Steve risks touching your arm, seeking any source of solace from you that he can. 
Your hands shake slightly. Steve can feel it, and he tightens his grip around you. He tries to get you to look at him, but you can’t face him. Not now. Not yet. Instead, you keep your eyes on Max. “This is where Billy is buried.”
Steve sucks in a breath and Dustin closes his eyes. Neither of them ask you how you know this. They didn’t attend his funeral, but you did. 
You’d held Max’s hand as Billy’s casket was lowered into the earth. 
You’re torn from your thoughts when Lucas comes back to the car. He’s upset. You look up and see Max walking towards the tombstones. There’s a letter in her hand. You know who it’s meant for. 
She’s gone for a while. The minutes go by with agonizing latency. Steve remains in the car, tapping his fingers against his window anxiously. His watch never leaves his line of sight. You stand next to Dustin outside, too nervous and overwhelmed to sit right now.
Lucas sits perched on the hood of the car. He stares straight ahead. Max is just barely visible over the hill. Her back is turned towards you, she faces a tombstone. It’s lighter than the others, not yet darkened by weather and age.
It’s Billy’s tombstone. 
The grief of losing a sibling is a chasm, endless and void of everything whole. Without thinking, you reach for Dustin’s hand. He lets you, squeezing your hand, as if thinking what you are. 
The rise and fall of Max’s shoulders tells you that she’s talking to someone. That she’s talking to him, and it’s almost too intimate of a moment to watch. You feel terribly guilty, but you also can’t look away. You’re terrified that if you do, she’ll somehow disappear. 
After nearly ten minutes, Steve glances down at his watch and curses. “Alright, it’s been long enough.”
He opens the car door and gets out, slamming it behind him. The action startles you, puts you on high alert. Lucas protests, insisting that you give Max more time, but Steve doesn’t listen. “I’m calling it. If she wants to get a lawyer, she can.”
“I’m coming with you,” breaking away from Dustin, you follow after Steve. You respect Max’s wishes, but he’s right. It’s been too long. Turning towards the other boys, you give them a weary look. “Stay here, please?”
Lucas doesn’t like this. “But–”
“We’ll be right back.” You promise him, running after Steve up the hill. 
He’s already reached the crest of the hill by the time you catch up. He jogs towards Max, whose back is pin straight. She’s eerily still, almost too still, and immediately you start to feel panic crawl up your neck. 
“Max, time to giddy up, yeah?” Steve stops in front of her, but the sincerity in his voice is quickly replaced with fear. Max’s eyes are rolled back, she doesn’t respond to any of Steve’s touches. He bends down, shakes her. “Max? Max!”
She’s in the same trance as last night. You drop down next to her, knees scraping against the grass below you. “Max, sweetheart.” Cupping her face, you gently try to bring her back to you, but she’s as cold as ice. 
“Max!” Steve claps his hands in front of her face. He’s yelling now, just as scared as you are. “Hey, wake up!”
“Max!” Over and over again her name rips from your mouth as tears coat your face. You scream and cry and shake her lifeless body, begging her to wake up. To say something, to smile at you, to argue with you and push you away. 
Anything. You’ll take anything. Just as long as she’s alive.
Steve shakes her shoulders almost as violently as you do. Choking on terror, you scream down to Lucas and Dustin. “Help! Help us!”
Your hands are joined by Lucas’. The two of you scream Max’s name. Vecna has her. You’ve failed, she’s going to die because of you. You hadn’t followed her, you should’ve made her stay with you back at Steve’s car. It’s your fault, it’s always your fault.
“Max, you gotta get out of there!” Lucas cries, gripping the girl’s skin harshly. But still she doesn’t respond. “Can you hear me?”
“Please.” Your voice is hoarse, you don’t even know what you’re pleading for. All you know is that Vecna has her, that Max is about to die. And you can’t do anything. 
Steve grabs Dustin’s jacket roughly and yanks him forward. “Call Nancy and Robin! Go get them, call them. Go.”
You watch as your brother falls, frantically picking himself back up as he runs down to where his radio is. You’re choking on your own breath, hyperventilating. Lucas’ screams deafen you, Steve’s pleas echo your own. It’s a grim, helpless situation.
Nancy and Robin have to know something. They’re the only option you have left. You can’t lose Max. You can’t fucking lose her. Not after everything. She’s too young. She’s too young. It should be you instead. 
“Take me,” you scream into the sky, voice cracking. The taste of blood fills your mouth. “Just-just take me! Leave her alone, I’m-I’m right here. Please.”
Steve’s grip on Max loosens slightly, he looks up at you, alarmed, but Dustin suddenly returns with an armful of cassettes and Max’s walkman. “Guys!”
He slides onto the ground, you quickly make room for him even though you have no idea why he’s brought all of Max’s music. “What-what are you doing?”
“What’s her favorite song?” Dustin demands, out of breath.
“Why?” Lucas doesn’t move.
“Robin said if she listens–” He stumbles over his words, his mind is all over the place. “It-it’s too much to explain now. What’s her favorite song?”
Dustin is screaming and in your blind fear, your mind can’t catch up. You can’t think of Max’s favorite song, you know everything about her. What her favorite color is, her favorite ice cream flavor, her deepest fear. And yet you don’t fucking know what her favorite song is.
“I–” You can’t breathe. You wrack your mind, you try to come up with something, anything. But you can’t. Steve and the others rustle through the cassettes, their voices overlap and everyone talks at once. 
“Lucas, which one is it?” Steve exclaims, flipping over the tapes in vain. “What's her favorite song?” 
Your mind goes back to winter. To when the cold burned your lungs and the snow quieted your fears. It was Christmas, Lucas had wanted you to check up on Max. He’d been worried about her. When you visited her, she’d had her walkman on, volume on the highest setting. 
You remember asking what she’d been listening to. It’d been an innocent question, then. Nothing more than a simple formality, a way to get Max to open up to you. Feel more calm around you. 
But now it could be what prevents you from losing Max forever.
“Kate Bush!” Screaming, you dig through the cassettes yourself. “Her favorite song is by Kate Bush.”
Lucas finds the only tape by her and he quickly removes it from its case. He screams at Steve to take it and hand it over to Dustin. They move in a blur, Dustin slides the headphones over Max’s ears and your finger presses play. 
Kate Bush’s voice erupts from the speakers. Max still doesn’t move, her eyes remain rolled back. But that’s it. The music is all you can do. 
Everyone shouts over the music, there isn’t anything else that can be done. Lucas holds her hand, he doesn’t let go of her. “Max, we’re right here!”
“Come back,” you cry, hands pressed against her face. “Sweetheart, Max–”
Her body begins to levitate. 
Your entire world collapses. 
“No!” You scream, vocal chords tearing. 
Your hands grasp at the air, you try to jump, you try to reach her. You try to do something, anything, to save her. Steve clutches you against him, holds you against his chest, scared you’ll hurt yourself. But you don’t care. Lucas screams behind you, Dustin cries for his friend. You throw yourself at Max, over and over again. 
But Max is just out of reach, dangerously high, and all you can do is watch. 
Her body constricts, her neck snaps back in a sickening manner. She starts to convulse, just how Billy did the night the Mind Flayer killed him. It’s happening again. All the air leaves your lungs. Max’s body dangles before you, taunts you.
Then, just as suddenly as it began, her body falls. You and Steve break her fall as she crumbles onto the grass, just barely managing to protect her head. “Max!”
She’s awake, gasping for air. Lucas cradles her body as she cries. She can’t speak, her hands clutch at any part of Lucas that she can reach. He pulls her close, his head rests against hers. He’s crying, too. “I thought we lost you.”
“I’m still-I’m still here,” Max chokes out. “I’m still here.”
“You’re never leaving.” You gasp out, holding her hand. She’s warm again. Her flesh doesn’t numb yours anymore. “I’m not-I’m not letting you leave us.”
Max cries, your promise heavy against her. You brush back her hair, your tears mix with hers. Steve’s arm wraps around you and Dustin’s head rests against your shoulder. You all hover over Max, almost as if instinctively shielding her.
She’s still here. 
The sun begins to set.
-
⌑ series masterlist
⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎
⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3
534 notes · View notes
bluetimeombre · 1 year ago
Text
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ falling out of love
fans think that you and tom are falling out of love after filming for ballad of songbirds and snakes and you don't post about each other much, so you show them that it's far from the truth.
[heres to 2024 coming soon. this is not part of my ongoing series but a little something else to hold you all over. never proofread, just vibing. btw just watched salt burn and I’m scared of barry now]
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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liked by… rachelzegler, joshandresrivera, hunterschafer & others
tomblyth: the vibes are green
893k likes 398k comments
user: he’s so happy!!!
user: um, where’s yourusername?
user: that’s definitely not yourusername
user: they don’t have to be around each other all the time
user: they haven’t been seen together in ages ☹️☹️
user: if they break up I’ll cry myself to sleep every night
user: my man looks so good
user: maybe she just didn’t want to hike (i wouldn’t)
user: 😍😍
user: he’s active again!!!!
user: I miss them
user: where’s yourusername
user: daddy 🔥🔥🔥🔥
user: just wanna know who the girl he’s with is, i just wanna know
user: is that the necklace yourusername gave him?
user: y’all are obsessed!!!
user: let my man live
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liked by …. florence.pugh, austinbutler, jaimieflatters & others
yourusername: packing only the essentials
901k likes 650k comments
user: packing?
user: what do you mean packing, where you going?
user: hotmamma
user: I love u
user: where’s tom
user: where is she going? to tom
user: is she leaving tom?
user: I love her whole vibe
user: I hope she’s going to go see tom 😔😔
user: why is she always slaying, it must be so tiring to be her
user: tomblyth
user: tomblyth
user: tomblyth
user: I can’t lose my third set of parents plssss
user: hearts breaking rn
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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user: rip tomblyth and yourusername, I’ll miss you
user: cosying up??? they’re literally just talking
user: it was bound to happen
user: tom!!!! cone get ur gurl
user: crying in the club rn
user: not believing in anything until they confirm
user: I can’t believe it; i won’t
user: love is dead
user: as long as they’re happy
user: they were probably pr for the hunger games and it’s been over two years, who cares now
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liked by… jaimieflaters, sadiesink_, zendaya & others
yourusername: that’s a rap on me and my Malibu dude!
871k likes 0comments
[comments restricted]
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
‘It’s so over,’
trending on twitter
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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liked by… tomblyth, rachelzegler, jamieflaters, tomholland2013 &others
yourusername: tom and I falling out of love, a compilation
1.1m likes 832k comments
user: oh it’s so back
user: she really said stop it!
user: parents!!!!
user: THANK GOD
user: taking the toaster out of the bath rn
user: goals
rachelzegler: you guys are so cute I’m gonna throw up
user: the fourth picture hello?!?!?!
user: damnnnnn
user: THANK GOD IM SO HAPPY
user: stfu enews
user: he’s such a gentleman in every picture but the fourth
user: I just knows he’s packing
zendaya: ❤️
user: planning the wedding
user: twitter lied!!
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liked by … yourusername, rachelzegler, joshandresrivera & others
tomblyth: falling out of love? more like falling in love with every single day that passes. I love you
tagged: yourusername
1m likes 750k comments
user: AHHHHHHHH
user: the posts!!!! the posts!!!!!
user: I just know they picked out these photos together
user: I love them
user: they’re giggling and kicking their feet rn
user: this is the cutest damn couple ever
user: I know they’re so in love because look at like these pictures, so darn cute
user: two years going on forever!!!
user: they could never make me believe you guys were over
user: they were literally probably just laughing off the rumors
user: they had us in the first half, ngl
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
‘Oh it’s so back!’
trending on twitter
2K notes · View notes
azzifuddfanpage · 4 months ago
Text
waves crashing
————
title creds @ldapper
Amazing prompt by 🥖anon here! 6.6k words
tw: smut
themes: dating/ angst/ fluff/ smut
————
Day before graduation
———
p💗: hiiii Azzi 
Az💗: hi baby
P💗: watcha doin? 
        Wishin I was wit u rn fr 
        I know it’s only been a few days but feels like forever 
Az 💗: I know baby I miss u so much too 
          How did we ever do long distance??
P💗: I’m never letting u go home by urself again 
Az💗: I know P I’m sorry 😞 
          I’ll see u Tom for graduation tho! 
P💗: ayyyy and then cruise
        Can’t wait to have my girl alone ifykwim 
Az💗: fuck I was gonna tell you something but I forgot now cuz miss u so bad istg im already wet
P💗: not surprised 🤷‍♀️ 
        (I need you so bad) 
A💗: check snap then 😉
P💗: AZZI ICE IS NEXT TO ME
       Had to save it so I could look at it privately 
Az💗: oh ya? What r u going to be doing when u look at it “privately” 😼
P💗: finna touch myself too it that’s for sure
        Need to see u in that new set in person
       Bring it to the cruise baby…
Az💗: woah what r u gonna do if I don’t 😩
P💗: oh you don’t wanna do that trust 
        be a good girl and listen 
Az💗: alright mommy 
P💗: BEUH
Az💗 I’m sorry u were asking for it with the “good girl” 
P💗: don’t act like u didn’t like it
Az💗: 🤭
P💗: I miss u so bad 
        Wish I was in u were in my bed rn 
Az💗: same
P💗: btw ur mom sent me photos of u today 
        Why she my literal plug 😭 
Az 💗: BRO GET OUT 
           Did she violate me 
P💗: that is actually impossible I fear 
        Ur too cute 
Az💗: ur cute 
P 💗: gonna be a lot cuter when ur in that tight bikini on the cruise 
Az💗: I don’t know how tight it will be if my literary family will be present 😭 
P💗: fine guess I’ll just have to take advantage of my time in the room 
Az💗: PAIGE!
P💗: ptpom? And cuddle? 
Az💗: I’m just gonna ignore that first one 
         (If ur good) 
P💗: alright now who’s the good girl 
Az💗: I guess we will have to wait and see 
         Omg I didn’t realize how late u kept me up
         I’m going to bed 
P💗: alright big head I’m so proud of u for graduating in 3 
       My academic weapon 💗
       Good night baby I love you 
Az💗: same baby
         Can’t believe u managed to actually graduate on time when ur illiterate 
        I love you too P 
        good night 
P💗: lowkey love you a little less after that
Az💗: 😐
P💗: kidding 💗💗💗💗
———
“Azzi you coming?” Aliyah’s voice echoed through the dorm. 
“Ya one second, I just feel like I’m forgetting something.” Azzi replied, scanning the room before adjusting her little black dress and fluffing her hair in the mirror.
It was only a few hours after graduation, and Azzi was going out to a grad party with Aliyah and some of the other girls in her communications class. 
Azzi had just gotten into the car when all of a sudden her phone chimed.
——
While Azzi was getting ready for the party, Paige had completely set up her dorm room in candles and Azzi’s favorite flowers to celebrate their graduation and especially Azzi graduating in 3. 
Paige was amazed by her girlfriend every day, but this was just a whole new level of adoration. 
Paige had finally finished setting up, after going right home after graduation. 
She had just assumed her and Azzi would have hung out afterward, she didn’t really feel the need to confirm. 
But when Azzi didn’t show up after 30 minutes of waiting, she started to get a little confused. 
She knew that Aliyah was going to a party with some of the other graduates, but parties had never really been Azzi’s thing, and Paige had assumed that Azzi would have told her if she was going. 
——
Back in the car, Azzi checks her phone. 
         —2 missed calls from p 💗 and 2 texts—
P💗: wya 😼
        U on ur way?
Az💗: I didn’t realize we had plans?
         I was going with Aliyah to that grad party 
P💗: wow alr 
Az💗: p? 
         I’m sorry? Like I didn’t realize u wanted to do something
P💗: it’s fine whatever 
       I just don’t get why u were all talking about how much u missed me last night and are surprised when I’m upset u didn’t come over.
       Like I thot it was mutual but ig not 
Az💗: ofc I want to see u, I can come over later!
         I’m sorry baby I thought I told you that I was going to the party, I knew I was forgetting something yesterday fuck.
P💗: it’s whatever don’t come over come over idrc 
       Have fun
Az💗: p come on wtf? It’s not that big of a deal, I just forgot to tell u 
         I still wanna see u 
         I miss u 
P💗: clearly not enough 
       Bye Azzi 
       I’ll talk to u later 
Az: paige come on don’t do this
      It was a mistake 
     Why do u have to stress me out like this I wanna see u 
    Seriously this is stupid 
                         —— read by P💗 ——
Az💗: really paige?
         I get that I made a mistake but it’s not like we had actual plans like come on
P💗: fuck az I said idc
Az 💗: why r u being like this 
          Like why r u tryna make me feel guilty 
          I said I’m sorry 
P💗: im not even doing nothing 😂😂?? 
        Just have fun
Az💗: paige u KNOW damn well ur making me upset 
         Like how am I gonna have fucking fun with u mad at me 
P💗: I don’t wanna fight with u
        I alr said I don’t care 
        Stop being dramatic and let it go
Az 💗: p ur being mean and unfair right now
P💗: I’m going to bed, take it how ever u want but stop texting me so I can sleep.
Az💗: alright paige I’m sorry 
         I never meant to hurt u
         I can’t come over later? I love you.
P💗: nah I’m all set Azzi. 
                      —— read by Azzi——
Azzi felt her heart sink as she shut off her phone. How was she supposed to celebrate when all she could think of was paige. 
————
When Azzi woke up, she felt hollow.
She turned to her side feeling the emptiness of the bed where the blonde lump usually laid. 
The bed felt cold without her in it.
Azzi’s head was pounding as she reached for her phone, rereading the entire conversation searching for where it went wrong.
She read it three times before sitting up and setting it on her side table.
She had really thought Paige would have texted her before she woke up. Apologizing for overreacting but she was really mad clearly.
At first Azzi felt horrible. 
The guilt was strong in her mind. She threw on a pair of Paige’s sweat pants and one of her team USA t-shirts and decided to go for a run to clear her mind.
As the morning stretched to afternoon, Azzi felt her guilt turn to anger.
She was pissed at Paige for not only ruining her graduation night, but for not even caring enough to text her the next day. And she had the audacity to get mad at her for “not caring.” 
By 3:00 Azzi was getting stressed. She had showered, even finished one of the books she was reading, but the suitcases by her door lay waiting for her in question.
Azzi and Paige had to leave for their cruise by 4:30 to get there by 8 yet still no text. 
Were they even going at this point?
By 4, Azzi was just about to text Paige when she heard her phone buzz.
———
P💗: I’m leaving in 15 to pick u up 
                     —— read by Az💗 ——
P💗: baby? 
        Is that ok?
Az💗: yup see u then 👍 
P💗: bruh 
Az💗: don’t call me bruh paige 
P💗: why r u dragging this out?
Az💗: u can’t be serious rn?
         U haven’t texted me all day.
         I have been sitting by my phone since literally ur last text waiting to see if u would text me yet nothing
        Like I made one fucking mistake and ur telling me im fucking dragging this out??
P💗: ur forgot we basically made plans i'm sorry i was upset 
Az💗: i get that u were upset, but I apologized and wanted to come over
         I didn’t even end up going to the stupid party and we both spent it alone cuz you were mad. 
          Like if u weren’t so damn stubborn this could have been prevented.
         U were a different person I didn’t even recognize u 
P💗: baby u know I love you come on 
       Stop with that
Az💗: ya I know P but u can’t just shut me out over something like that it’s not fair.
P💗: okay let’s just talk about it in the car bro
       I’m leaving now 
Az💗: istg paige if u call me bro one more time I will make u change rooms 
P💗: nah no way u change rooms 
Az💗: hah if u still think we are fucking ur gonna be really disappointed
P💗: ya we will see 😂
Az💗: I’m literally not even gonna sleep in the same bed as u at this point
         Like have fun by urself, hopefully they have a couch or u will be on the floor.
P💗: whatever u say baby
———
Azzi watched as paige’s car pulled into the driveway.
——
P💗: here
Az💗: I’m coming asshole 
P💗: damn really not giving up on this are u?
                   —— read by Az💗 ——
Azzi wobbled out to the car with her suitcase.
Paige watched, getting out of her car, opening the door for Azzi and taking her bag.
Azzi rolled her eyes at her but obliged, letting Paige put her bag in the trunk.
Paige felt a smirk curl onto her lips. She knew Azzi was upset but she couldn’t help herself but think about how good their makeup sex would be now that there was all this tension-not that Paige wanted any of this to happen, she hated when Azzi was upset.
When Paige finally joined Azzi in the car after cramming all the stuff in the car, she handed Azzi her unicorn neck pillow. 
“Thanks” Azzi said shortly, tugging it around her neck and leaning to look out the window away from paige.
“Do you have the stuff for your knee?” Paige asked, going through a list she made on her phone of things Azzi can’t forget.
“What about your compression sleeve?” She continued.
“I have everything Paige we can just go.” Azzi sighed, shutting her eyes and rubbing her temples as if to say Paige was giving her a headache. 
Paige smirked at the sight of her girlfriend, and her eyes made their way down to her bare thighs. She watches as Azzi lets her legs stretch out, her quads contracting and relaxing as she did. 
Azzi could feel Paige's eyes on her. 
“I'm not gonna talk to you Paige.” Azzi said even though her heart fluttered knowing Paige was looking at her. 
“Fine by me.” Paige said pressing play on her music letting “Love Language” by Sza fill the silence of the car. 
The two sat there not talking while Paige drove for the first hour. Azzi kept her eyes glued to the window, avoiding eye contact, as if the passing shapes were the interesting things in the world. Azzi refused to be the first to give in. 
An hour later, Azzi lets herself glance over to Paige who was focused on the road. 
Azzi felt herself relax at the sight of her girlfriends familiar features, the sharp angle of her jaw, the softness of her blonde hair, the way her eyes glistened under the light of the setting sun. Azzi could smell the tension on her, but she looked away before her glance could be considered staring. 
Immediately after looking back towards her spot on the window, she regretted taking that glance as the ache between her legs, that had been unfulfilled since the few days her girlfriend had been absent, grew.
Ironically, Paige too was feeling the heat of the moment. Every glance she would steal at Azzi was filled with pure desire and need. All the anger from last night had converted into something more charged, and when Paige got worked up well… 
After another 30 minutes of the car ride, Paige glanced over at Azzi who had fallen asleep, her mouth slightly open and her head tilted back. 
Paige’s heart melted seeing her girlfriend in such an innocent vulnerable moment. Paige loved waking up to Azzi’s sleeping face, and not seeing her the past few days made this moment all that much more meaningful. Paige moves her hand over to brush one of Azzi's curls out of her face, letting the pureness of her beauty sink in. 
With only an hour left in the car ride, Azzi wakes up a little disoriented, forgetting where she was. She looks around and her eyes immediately find Paige, bringing her complete comfort. She feels a pang of guilt at the idea that her girlfriend is probably tired too after driving the full way, but the guilt turns back to annoyance when she realizes she still hasn’t gotten an apology yet. 
Not wanting to give in just yet, Azzi decides to send Paige a quick text. 
Az💗: hi
Paige saw Azzi’s name pop up on her CarPlay, she glanced over to Azzi who was still looking out the window ignoring her. 
When they pull up to the red light, Paige checks her phone. 
P💗: hi
Az💗: i don’t forgive u 
          That’s why i'm texting you, so u can’t bring this up out loud but 
          I miss u 
P💗: I miss u too baby
Az💗: really? I thot u were mad still 
P💗: how could I possibly stay mad at such a pretty face
————
Azzi felt a blush reach her face at paige’s message
————
Az💗: well I’m not done being mad at u yet
          But I’m pausing so I can text u
P💗: it’s okay baby u are holding up very well
       U look very pretty right now too btw
Az💗: you look pretty too. 
          Like that shirt on u
P💗: what’s new 🤷‍♀️ 
         Also I got u a grad gift
         It’s a surprise tho
Az💗: stop im supposed to me mad at u rn 
P💗: hah and yet ur wet instead
Az💗: enough
P💗: So do you forgive me?
Az💗: no
———
The light changed back to green and Azzi put her phone back in the side door. 
Paige began cooking up a way to get Azzi to forgive her. 
Without removing her eyes from the road, Paige reached next to her side and let her hand drape across the top of Azzi's lower thigh. 
She smirked, feeling Azzi's weight shift underneath her, as she ran her fingers dangerously against the soft skin of her thigh. 
Azzi felt herself grow needy, the warmth of Paige's fingers spreading to her insides. 
Azzi could feel Paige's hand creep higher up her thigh, slowly inching closer to where she needed her most. Paige massaged her skin with her thumb in tight small circles on her inner thigh. 
Azzi accidentally let a soft moan slip out as her hand inched closer to her heat. 
Realizing she had allowed herself to enjoy this a little too much, she pushed Paige's hand away, stopping it as her hand hovered over the throbbing pressure between her legs. 
“Paige.” Azzi warned, as Paige threw her head back against the seat in frustration. 
Paige flicked her eyes away from the road to look at her girlfriend. 
“Az” paige said, letting her face soften upon looking at the way Azzi’s curious eyes wandered and searched her face for an answer. 
“Look.” Paige started. “I am sorry Azzi, i shouldn't have treated you like that yesterday, i wasn't fair.” Paige confessed at a mumble, part of herself not liking the idea of admitting she was wrong. 
Azzi sighed, “It's okay baby, I just hate it when you're upset with me.” Azzi softly stated, reaching her hand out and squeezing the blondes gently. 
“You didn't do anything wrong Azzi, I just wanted to see you after graduation , and I guess I got a little too wrapped up in the idea that you were coming over and I took it out on you when I found out you had other plans.” Paige admitted. “Also I might have been a little embarrassed cuz I may or may not have lit a couple of candles for you.” Paige sighed, her face blushing. 
Azzi, turned her body so she was facing her more directly, “Aw baby youre so cute. But just to be clear i didn't even go to the party, i went home cuz i was so stressed out about you.” Paige felt the guilt rush over her as Azzi admitted that to her. 
Paige’s head hung, “I'm sorry you had to leave, I am, honestly, but I just don't get why you didn't want to celebrate with me.” 
“Paige, are you serious right now? I literally wanted to come over, and if you had asked you could have come, and i would have said yes in an instant. If you had just sent me a message, instead of trying to guilt trip me, and make me feel bad, I would have been to your house in seconds." Azzi said, reaching up and brushing a strand of blonde hair away from Paige's face, framing her eyes. 
“I know azzi, i was acting crazy, i knew you would have come to be with me, i guess it was just the fact that i wasn't the first person you wanted to be with, i dont know it's stupid.” Paige tried to brush off the embarrassment as she said that, her eyes staying focused on the road. Azzi feels her heart melt at the sight of her blonde girlfriend being so vulnerable and open in front of her. 
“I am so sorry baby, I just thought it would make sense for me to hang out with the girls from my class since this is probably the last time i'm gonna see them, you know? Like I assumed I would be seeing you later that night. I just feel like you took it a little too far like it was a little toxic idk." Azzi said, watching Paige's face react to it. 
Paige felt a little taken aback by Azzi’s comment. 
“Az, you know i love you, and you don't even know how sorry i am, i'll never do it again i promise.” Paige said, turning a little to look at her. 
Paige moved her hand to caress Azzi’s curls, her finger brushing against Azzi's neck, sending shivers down her spine that was enough to make her want to unbuckle, climb onto Paige's lap, and take her right there. But somehow she managed to maintain herself, and simply said, “better not.” 
They spent what was left of the car ride with their hands all over each other. Azzi remained a bit more to herself, but when paige placed her hand on her lap, she moved her hand and let them linger over paige’s, tracing her initials onto her palm. 
When they pulled up to the dock, Paige shifted in her seat to turn to the younger girl, her hand still on Azzi's thigh. 
“Your family is gonna be here soon?” She asked moving her hand up to sweep the curls back behind Azzi's ear. 
Azzi blushes as she pulls out her home to check. 
“Ya, they said to just go on without them and they would meet us for dinner, they are running a little late apparently Jon forgot his suitcase.” Paige giggled at the reminder of her family dynamic, the one she had always felt so welcomed to. 
“Alright pretty, you stay here, k?” Azzi nodded in response, watching as Paige left and went to the trunk to grab their bags, and lug them over to the boat's entrance. She went back and opened Azzi’s door, but as she walked, Azzi couldn't help herself but gawk at the way Paige's sweatpants and how low they hung on her hips, the veins in her hands, and the way her long nimble finger wrapped around the bag she was holding. 
Azzi gulped when Paige opened the door.. Fuck she was horny. 
Paige’s hand rested on the small of her back as she led her towards the entrance of the cruise ship, azzi paused, turning to look Paige in the eyes.
“Thank you for bringing our bags in and driving, I appreciate it. But.” Azzi looks away as the last word comes out, Paige eyes her cautiously, “but what azzi?”
“I am still a little annoyed with you though, just warning you.” azzi said, which surprised her as Paige's tense body relaxed. 
Paige turns her and lets her hand pull azzi in closer to her side as they stand in the line to board. Her hand slides down and wraps around the front of her, resting just below Azzi's belly button piercing, the other one moving down to squeeze her ass. 
Azzi blushed, swatting at her hand, but her actions juxtaposed it, leaning back into page letting her warmth absorb her. 
“I feel like you won't be saying that later.” Azzi feels her breath hitch as Paige's voice is sharp in her ear. 
“Yeah?” Azzi gulps, her hand reaching back and coming in contact with the exposed skin between Paige's pants and her crop top. 
“How long do you really think you will hold out Azzi?” Paige questioned dominantly. 
Azzi chose to leave the question unanswered as she created some distance between them when walking in. 
When they reached the check in desk, Azzi could feel Paige's hands wander over her body. Azzi, who obviously was much more organized than Paige, checked in, providing the receptionist with the details of their trip, and the other people in their party that would be arriving later. Azzi tried to keep herself focused, but Paige was making it pretty difficult, her fingers tracing over her back, her eyes burning into the side of her head as she conversed with the lady who was checking them in. 
When the lady turned around to get them their room keys, Azzi turned to look at Paige, who was already staring at her puffy lips, licking her own and smirking at her. Azzi’s heart rate sped up, and she knew she would have to get her back for pulling this little stunt on her. 
Azzi leads them to their room, and Azzi forces Paige to carry both of their bags so she would keep her hands away from Azzi’s body. As the two of them open the door to the room Azzi begins to take herself at home, unpacking her clothes, while Paige on the other hand starts walking around the room, looking in the shower, at the beds, and even on the balcony. 
Azzi gives her a look as if to say “What are you doing.” and paige knowingly responds “sorry im just looking to see all the places i could fuck you in.” Paige smirked, walking up behind Azzi and trailing her fingers along Azzi’s arm. Azzi rolled her eyes and Paige whispered in her ear,
“Common Azzi, i said i was sorry, didn't  know it would be a crime for me to wanna celebrate graduating with my girlfriend.”  Azzi is silent, taking it in as Paige's hands trail down her arms and clutch her hands swinging them slightly. 
“Just wanna have a nice time on this cruise with my girl.” She continues smiling at their reflection in the mirror in front of them and licking her lips as she moves her head to lean on Azzi’s shoulder. 
Azzi studies her face and neck, she can tell she wants her bad, and Paige is not even trying to hide it. 
Azzi on the other hand, although better at hiding it, needed her just as badly. 
Paige tilted her head so her lips brushed against Azzi's neck, traveling upward and pressing an open mouth kiss on her dimple. Azzi’s hand found its way to Paige's shoulder, as her heart fluttered. 
Paige knew she had her in a choke hold and kept going, “didn't mean to treat you like that baby, i just wanna be near you all the time, i can't help it.”she whispered against her ear, letting her lips brush against it. 
Azzi walks back a few steps towards the bed, before she goes to sit down. Paige follows her like a lost puppy, seductively pulling Azzi’s legs apart so she can stand between them. 
Azzi looks up at her with wide eyes full of desire as she puts her own arms on either side of her hips on the bed. Azzi leaned her head back making eye contact with Paige, staring at her with needy hooded eyes. As azzi leans back, her jaw clenches, showing off the sharpness of her jawline. Immediately,the wetness between Paige's legs becomes overwhelming, and Paige is unbelievably aware of the switch azzi has just made. 
“Ima make it up to you baby, do you want that? Want me to make you feel good?”Azzi doesn't respond, but Azzi keeps her eyes on Paige. Looking up at her with her head tilted as if to say, “yeah?” biting her lip and looking down at herself all spread out for paige. 
“I'm gonna get you so right baby? Paige says as she leans down tracing her finger along Azzi’s thick muscular thighs. She licks her lips, smirking down at her girlfriend. “Just forgive me baby.” she whispers, watching as Azzi adjusts herself so she is propped up on her elbows with her body more accessible. She moves one of her hands to slightly fist at the hem of her shirt with an overtly innocent look plastered on her face. She felt like Paige had had enough of her teasing. 
“I don't know paigey, you made me really upset you know.” she said, dragging out the last letter so her tongue would trace her lips slowly, still looking up pouty. 
Paige moved her hand to the soft skin of Azzi's neck, stroking it gently. She brings her other free hand to tilt Azzi's jaw up, her thumb on her puffy bottom lip.
Paige leans forward, “I'm so sorry princess, I love you baby lemme do you right please.” she whispers into her ear, flicking her eyes to watch azzi-who thought she couldn't be seen- as she bites her lip letting her eyes roll back into her head. 
Paige raises back to her full height, peering over azzi with a knowing smirk as she pouts up at her, both of them fighting intense aches in their cores. 
“You want me so bad? My sweet girl, so innocent huh? Paige says tugging at azzi’s plump bottom lip. 
Azzi nods innocently, smiling.“Keep going.” she whispers. 
Paige knows exactly how to rile her up. 
“Such a beautiful girl, mmm drives me crazy,” Paige groans as Azzi takes off her hoodie, her eyes focused on Paige's, going back to her position to let Paige continue. 
“Mhm, that's it baby, such a good girl for me huh?” she says as Azzi stands up to slide off her pants, taking her time turning around so Paige can take it all in. 
By the time she is sitting back at the edge of the bed, Paige's mouth feels dry, and her pussy feels wet. 
“My smart girl. graduated in 3 years didn't you?”Azzi nods and puts up her foot to make Paige slide her socks off for her. 
“Whatever you want princess.” She smirks as she leans forward and delicately pills them off. 
Paige can feel the sweat slide down her back as the tension builds between them. 
“So fucking perfect, just wanna fuck you all the time.” Azzi's expression contorts into a teasing “really?”. And Paige doubles down “can't even control myself.” she says as her hands hover over the brunette's body. 
Paige lifts her leg to peel off her other sock, highlighting the swell of her ass. 
“Mmm that fat ass too.” Paige groans as she feels herself get wet. Her head is spinning, and Azzi, who is now only in a t-shirt and panties can tell. 
Azzi lifts one arm and slides it behind Paige's neck to pull her in towards her lips, letting them brush against her ear, “ok baby, i forgive you.” 
A smirk spreads onto Paige's face as azzi continues, “Wanna take this off me baby?” she asks with need dripping from her core. 
“Fuck az.” Paige groans, licking her lips eagerly as she leans forward to gently pull the shirt over her girlfriends head. 
Azzi leans back slightly now that she is fully exposed, her lingerie in full view, she separates her legs smirking. 
Paige’s jaw drops in disbelief as her parted thighs revealing a new pair of lingerie. 
“What happened to me sleeping on the couch huh?” Paige questioned as she studied the brand new red set that displayed Azzi's perky breasts, her toned stomach, and her piercing that shimmered under the light. 
Considering that they had just had an argument, and only had just made up everything clicked when she saw Azzi's state all laid out for her. 
Paige tips her head backward to stare at the ceiling shaking her head while rubbing her jaw and letting out a groan that makes azzi giggle. 
Azzi, still staring up at her girlfriend, waiting for her to make a move, holds both of her hands now as they make eye contact, 
“Wow so you just been tryna rile me up all day huh? You're such a freak Azzi Fudd.” Paige tuts with a smirk. 
“Paigeee” azzi whines, “what are you talking about sweetie?” she replies innocently, tugging at her shirt, pouting. 
“You dont wanna touch me baby?” she asks and Paige can barely believe it's a real thought in her head. 
Paige leans her head down to Azzi's ear, her hand resting lightly on the back of Paige's head whispering, “enough baby, you know imma touch you.” Paige says, her lips attaching to the soft spot under her ear. “But you gotta promise you're gonna be a good girl for me though ok? Can you do that Azzi?” 
“What if I don't wanna.” Azzi admits watching as Paige shakes her head in disbelief. 
“I think you're gonna wanna be good. Cuz you know im gonna fuck you so good.” paige says, watching as Azzi’s eyes scan down her body. 
Azzi’s hands travel up under her shirt, rubbing up and down on her bare stomach. 
She lets out a breathy moan, “Paigey?” she starts. 
Paige looks down at her, shuddering under her touch. 
Azzi continues to caress her lower stomach and whispers, “I promise I'll be a really good girl for you Paige,” batting her eyelashes innocently. 
“Yeah? didn't take much convincing huh? Need me that bad princess? Want me to fuck you good?” 
Azzi nods, standing up and wrapping arms around Paige's neck, hand gripping the back of her head pulling her into a kiss. Their lips connect with an absolute fire, the tension from the past day spilling out between their lips. Azzi licks at Paige's bottom lip, and Paige sucks in her tongue as her hands travel down to rub her ass. 
“Missed you bad.” azzi says when they finally pulled away, lips puffy and swollen, eyes hooded with desire. 
The blonde smiles and connects their lips again, the passion overflowing as Paige bites and pulls on her bottom lip. 
Paige’s lips travel down, leaving small open mouthed kisses from her jawline, and traveling down to her neck. 
She licks a long stripe down Azzi's stomach, outlining her abs before stopping at the band of her panties. 
Paige hooks her finger into them, letting them fall to the floor. 
Azzi looks down to watch the way Paige looks at pussy like she has been starved for years. Paige gets on her knees, so she is the one staring upwards a t her beautiful girlfriend in front of her. 
She separates Azzi’s legs gently and reaches her finger up to spread apart her tan folds, exposing the soft pink of her clit. 
“Prettiest pussy in the world”, she shakes her head, continuing, “she belongs to me.” Paige says to her pussy as Azzi smirks, “all yours. Now pls touch me, I need you so bad." Azzi whines pushing at Paige's head. 
Paige wraps her arms around the back of Azzi's thighs to stabilize herself, as she presses her tongue against Azzi's pussy, running it through her folds and picking up her slick. Azzi moans against the contact, pushing herself farther against her. 
Paige’s hands travel up to cup Azzi's ass, squeezing and listening to Azzi let out a soft moan. Paige’s tongue digs deeper against her, finding her clit and swiping against it. 
Her tongue flicks back and forth, and Paige transitions between the flicks, small tight circles, and sucking at it, releasing it with a pop. 
Azzi moans loudly, her hand tangling in Paige's hair as she pushes her girlfriend closer so her face is suffocated by her cunt. 
Paige goes down like she hasn't eaten in months, licking at her, sucking at her, even running her teeth gently against her. 
“Love the way you taste baby.” Paige says pulling away gently to catch her breath and shove Azzi onto the bed. 
Azzi moans as Paige climbs on top of her and flattens her tongue against her clit, lapping at it gently. She moves her head down, licking from her clit down to her entrance. 
Azzi can feel her pussy clench as Paige runs over her entrance teasingly with her tongue. 
“Please fuck-want you inside of me” Azzi says desperately and paige just smirks against her pussy. 
“What's the magic word,” Paige teases, her finger running through Azzi's slick. Azzi doesn't even have the chance to answer, as she pushes Paige's tongue into her. 
Paige lets it slide, and fucks her with her tongue, letting it plunge in and out of her. Azzi moans loudly as her tongue squelches against her walls, the feeling of the warmth was too much for her, and after only a few minutes of Paige's pounding into her, she is a pile of moans. 
“Fuck im close Paige.” she moans. 
Paige pulls her tongue out of her and flips them over so Azzi is sitting on her stomach. 
Paige wraps her hands around Azzi's ass and scotts her up so her pussy is now hovering over her face. 
“Sit,” Paige says dominantly. And Azzi looks a little self conscious at first, not wanting to completely crush her, but eventually the desire between her legs is too deep, and Paige's strong arms pull her down so she is now riding her tongue. 
Azzi moans loudly at the new angle, feeling Paige's tongue hit against her g spot as she fucked it into her. Azzi was grinding down on her, feeling Paige's nose brush against her clit. 
She moaned,her walls beginning to tighten and her pussy sucked up Paige's tongue as it bobbed in and out of her. 
“Gonna cum Paige.” she moaned her hands coming around on either side of her, her tits dangling in Paige’s face as she continued to fuck her through her orgasim. 
Soon enough Azzi’s white syrup was pouring out of her and paige was drinking up every last drop, fucking her through it. 
Azzi flopped off of her face so she was laying next to her. 
They lay there for a moment catching their breath. 
“You ready?” Azzi asks eagerly, laughing as she notices the cum on her nose, leaning forward and licking it off. 
“For what princess?” she asked, but Azzi was already straddling her and sliding off her pants.
“My turn to show my remorse.” Azzi smirked as Paige let out a breathy moan as the cool air hit her wet cunt. 
“All this from eating me out? You really are whipped.” 
Azzi wiggled herself down, situating herself so she was between her legs, aligning herself with Paige's core. 
She starts to place gentle kisses on Paige's inner thighs, feeling the heat radiating off of her. 
She placed a kiss on her pussy, before spreading it open with her fingers and licking a long strip through her. She lapped at her clit in soft kitten licks, taking in the taste of her arousal. 
Paige moaned, running her fingers over the back of Azzi's neck, tangling them in her hair. 
Azzi ran her finger through her wetness, letting it get completely soaked, before she fucked it into her listening as paige moaned at the contact. 
Azzi continued fucking the one finger into her, her tongue flicking against her clit. 
Paige moaned, desperate for more contact. 
“Please more. Need more princess. You're so good to me.” Paige praised, as she pushed Azzi's mouth against her clit with more force, so she was now sucking on it. 
With Paige’s words, Azzi added two more fingers, fucking them in and out of her at a fast rhythm while Paige shoved her face into her cunt. 
“Fuckkk.” she moaned, throwing her head back as she felt her walls start to suction around Azzi's fingers. 
Azzi pressed down her other hand on Paige's lower stomach, causing her walls to release, and her orgasim to spill over her with a loud moan, her cum spilling out onto Azzi's fingers. 
Azzi fucked her through it, not stopping until Paige was squirming underneath her. 
“Who's the good girl now?” Azzi asked smartly, as she ran her fingers through Paige's sensitive clit. 
Paige, who was still tired from just having Azzi’s fingers pound in and out of her, was not willing to give up that easily, she moved Azzi's fingers away from her clit towards Azzi's mouth. “Still you.” she said as she shoved them into Azzi’s mouth, melting a little as Azzi held eye contact with her and sucked Paige's juices off of them. 
—----
An hour or 2 later, after the girls had finished unpacking, and getting ready for dinner, they met Azzi’s family down by one of the cruise restaurants. 
“You look so beautiful tonight.” Paige said as they walked down the stairs towards the door. 
“You do too, baby.” Azzi smiled, and Paige poked her dimple lovingly. 
Making their way over, they finally spotted Azzi's family in the distance. They all exchanged hugs, and stories before finally making their way into the restaurant. 
“Mrs. Fudd.” Paige said, pulling out Azzi's chair for her. 
“Thank you Mrs. Bueckers.” she mocked as she sat down. 
The night was filled with laughter and stories of Azzi's childhood, the team next year, classes, and just day to day anecdotes. 
Paige couldn’t imagine herself anywhere else than with this family, at this table. 
Paigee loved every part of Azzi, from her family, to her, to the way she would refuse to let either of them bring their phones when they snuck away to one of the islands, or when she would force Paige to watch Frozen with them in the room before they went to sleep the second night. 
Paige knew Azzi was the one for her, from the minute she saw her, and no fight they could ever have would ever change that. 
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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 1 year ago
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oooh can u do one of those with Tom and reader where she does one of those celebrity skincare routine videos. How u go abt the story is completely up to u, have a nice day!
Vogue beauty secrets || Tom Blyth x singer!reader
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A/n: I haven't post a tom blyth x singer!reader in so long, apolgies! but hope you enjoy this one :)
Wc: 577
Warnings: nonee
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Divider by @pommecita
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You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, ready to film your Vogue beauty secrets video. The soft lights illuminate the room, casting a flattering glow on your face. "Hi Vogue! I'm Y/n Abrams and I'm going to walk you through my skincare and my current glam-ish makeup routine!" You smile.
"So for my morning skincare routine, I keep it very simple and only use four products," you showcase the products before tucking your hair behind your ears.
Picking up a bottle of a renowned cleanser, you speak with a gentle, almost ASMR-like quality, "I first go in with this la roche possay face wash," You squeeze the contents in your hands.
"I used to have really bad teenage acne and my mum actually put me on this when I was about 14 and I've been using it ever since!" You say as you lather it up in your hands.
You lightly pat your wet face and with a confident smile, you began detailing more of your skincare routine, highlighting each product with precision. You get closer to the camera as you delicately applied a moisturiser, your voice resonating with enthusiasm.
The ambiance shifted when you transitioned to your makeup routine, showcasing the products that you use. "Most days I just keep it very very simple, using very light products on my skin," You comment as you pull out foundation.
"But for my sort of glam days I use this foundation from charlotte tilbury, it's not too heavy for me but it has great coverage." As you meticulously applied the product on your face, the door to the bathroom creaked open as you look towards the reflection of the mirror.
Tom casually strolls in, a lazy grin on his face, his eyes locking onto you. He wraps his arms around you, his warmth and affection catching you off-guard as you smile. He rests his chin on your shoulder, "Hi gorgeous," he whispers against your skin.
His eyes then move to the camera that he hadn't seen, "Oh- are you filming that video right now?" Tom seemed genuinely concerned, but instead of pulling away, he tightens his embrace, placing light kisses on your exposed skin. The unexpected intrusion caught everyone watching at home off-guard, but the genuine affection between you and Tom added an endearing touch to the video.
"Yeah, but it's okay, you can stay," You assure your boyfriend as you both lock eyes with each other through the reflection. "What's the video again?" Tom lifts his head up from your shoulder as he straightens up behind you.
"My beauty secrets with Vogue," you explain, motioning to the products on the counter. "I'm doing my makeup routine right now," almost forgetting you still had to get through the rest of your routine, you go back to doing your makeup.
Tom, seemingly unfazed by the cameras, continued to watch you with adoration with his hands resting on your hips. “You don’t need makeup, you’re already gorgeous,” he remarked. “Hm?” You look at him, “I said, you already look gorgeous, you don’t need makeup,” he repeats, his words sincere and heartfelt.
You give your boyfriend a grateful smile for his sweet words. Caught in the moment, Tom continues to watch you, occasionally leaning in to drop a playful comment or offer a sweet compliment. The chemistry between you two is palpable, and it added an unexpected charm to the video.
You wrapped up the video with Tom still beside you as he gives a small wave. You thought for sure that the vogue editing team would cut off most, if not, all the parts that Tom was in.
But little did you know, the vogue team decided to keep the segments with your boyfriend, finding his genuine affection and compliments wholesome.
When the video gets uploaded to YouTube, the internet goes wild. Both your fans couldn't get enough of Tom's unscripted, heartfelt moments. Clips of him wrapping around you, calling your gorgeous, and showering you with affection became viral sensations.
Social media explodes with comments praising how sweet Tom is and the chemistry between the two of you. Memes circulate, capturing the hilarious and heartwarming snapshots from the video.
The unexpected blend of beauty tips and genuine love only fueled the video's popularity.
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estxkios · 1 year ago
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ROAD HEAD ੈ✩‧₊˚
2007 tom kaulitz x fem!reader
summary: tom is annoying the shit out of you on a road trip so u teach him a lesson :3
warnings: sub tom, risky, semi-sublic blowjobb
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your boyfriend was annoying the shit out of you. you had been in the car with him for thirteen hours at this point.
he thought it would be fun to go on a road trip instead of a plane, saying, “It will be a new experience!” and, “It would be a good time for us to bond!”
“we aren’t already bonded enough?” you would retort.
and now you are here. in the passenger seat longing to get out of this hot, crammed car.
you don’t know how you can last six more hours in this enclosed space with him.
you asked him for aux?
ignored?
you ask him for some of his candy?
he shoves it in his mouth, smiling at you as he finishes the last bite.
what has gotten into him? was it the lack of sleep from the previous night of driving? was it the coffee from the hotel?
“tom you are so fucking annoying today!”
you shout over his loud music as he had turned it up the last time you asked for him to play a different song.
“suck my dick!” he shouts between the lyrics he was obnoxiously singing.
he dances around playfully in his seat and you huff, turning away from him and crossing your arms.
your thoughts start to linger as you stare at the open road, your eyes following cars as they pass by.
what would it be like to suck toms dick right now? would it suck the annoyingness out of him too?
jesus christ, maybe the hotel coffee was getting to you too.
or maybe it was just the urge to fuck your boyfriend.
“do you really want me to, tom?” you spoke over his music.
“do i really— what?”, he turned to you for a moment, giving you a perplexed stare and turning the volume of his music down before looking back onto the road.
“do you really want me to suck your dick?” you blatantly said, staring right at tom, who kept his gaze fixed on the road in front of him.
“babe— what?” he repeated.
“jesus christ you are fuckin’ deaf,” you let out a breathy laugh to yourself at toms confusion, “let me just show you—“
unbuckling your seatbelt, you climb over the center console and snake yourself towards toms seat, situating yourself under the steering wheel, between toms legs.
tom was shifting in confusion as you did this, muttering small what the fuck?'s under his breath.
“babe, what’re you doing..?” his voice trailed off as he connected the dots.
you grabbed the waist of his sweatpants, he lifted his hips up to make it easier for you to take them off, he was very compliant for someone acting so confused.
“what if someone sees us?!” he diverts his gaze away from the road as he says this.
“they will get jealous that you have such an amazing girlfriend.”
he scoffed.
you took his boxers off.
-
tom gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles so white they were nearly blue.
he sucked in a shallow breath between his teeth and swallowed thickly, the sight of your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock was enough to make him cum.
you kept up your fast, desperate pace with your mouth.
he tasted so fucking good.
you moaned around toms beautifully hard cock as you moved your head forward, taking tom all the way.
he took one hand off of the wheel, bringing it down the back of your head and taking a fist full of your hair.
he held your head down on his sweet cock, making your muscles constrict around toms cock as you gagged, your eyes watering.
he let out a guttural moan as you fully took in his pretty length.
“f-fuck baby im s’close!” he takes his hand off of your head, too lost in the pleasure to hold it there any longer.
he tried to keep his eyes open as his climax neared.
you take your mouth of off him with a ‘pop!’
“why’d y’stop?” he whined, looking down at you then hastily looking back up. “you tease me too much..”
“aww, sweet boy can’t take a little bit of fun?” you chuckled, looking straight into his eyes which stayed on the road. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was actually focusing on driving, or if he was too embarrassed to look you in the eyes.
but your attention quickly diverted from his eyes onto his cock as it twitched, just longing for your touch.
tom bit his bottom lip, fidgeting with his lip ring.
his hands kept a tight grip on the steering wheel, which he tried so hard to keep from snaking down towards his cock and pleasuring himself. 
you couldn’t help but smile at how patient he was being.
“hey, tom.” you said casually, “look at me.”
he did as you said, reluctantly “wha-?”
you quickly gripped his cock and brought it towards your mouth, using all the strength in your body to suck him off perfectly.
you swirled your tongue around him, flattening it out every so often.
“holyfuckingshit!” he breathed, “im so fucking close--! mphh- please!”
he was so sensitive he could cum any second now.
you knew it.
he definitely knew it.
you pushed the most of toms cock in your mouth as you could, and with one final moan of your name tom shot his hot seed right into the back of your throat.
the pressure of the seatbelt on toms abdomen as he strained his hips made him whine as he rode out his intense high.
he threw his head against the seat, jaw hanging slack. 
his body bucked forward as you took your mouth off of him.
“so if i want head like this again, all i have to do is annoy you?”
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hope u enjoyed :p
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