#interesting but what job could i possibly get from studying that?

[lovemybluebully]

It's For Science

This is just a little something I scrounged together, inspired by a post by @snugglyfluffle 😊

https://www.tumblr.com/snugglyfluffle/761535277842022400/since-logan-has-a-shorter-waist-then-wade-does-do?source=share

Damn, writer's block has been a biiiiiitch. I wrote a lot of this in the later hours of the night after my long workdays so sorry if it's nothing spectacular, or if there's any spelling/grammatical errors. 

Wade gets it into his head that maybe not all humans have the same number of rib bones. His logic being that since Logan has a shorter body then he may be an exception. Unfortunately for Logan this is far too ticklish of an experiment for him to bear.

A small bit of ticklish!deadpool at the end too. 😉

Warnings for foul language and other Deadpool-type stuff.

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

M/M Tickle Fic

Word Count: 4,234

"The skeletal system is comprised of bones that give structure to the body and work with the muscles and joints to provide movement. The human body contains 206 bones….," the certified doctor on the television explained as he gestured to a replica model human skeleton while Wade sat watching on the couch.

"207 if I'm watching Gossip Girl, hehehe. Shit, I already made that joke in the movie. Well it's still true anyhow, am I right?" Wade snorted a laugh as he turned from his position on the couch with his hand up for a high-five, but found his roommate leaned back in the couch with his eyes closed and his hands on his lap.

It had been a nice lazy afternoon for the two of them and Logan had KO'ed quite a few beers as the monotone voice of the television host was making him doze off.

"Pssht! Old man can't stay awake for five minutes," Wade waved him off as he turned back to the tv.

"The ribcage has an important job in providing protection to some of the most vital organs being the lungs and the heart. There are 12 ribs on each side, making 24 in total…"

The merc blinked in curiosity as he sat up tall and now slowly began to feel up each side of his body to count the ribs within, having to dig in pretty thoroughly to get through the muscle.

"Hmm I'm only feeling 20 here….," he rechecked to be sure, finding all the ones leading up to his collarbone.

"The 11th and 12th pair of ribs are called 'floating ribs' because unlike all the others they are not attached to the sternum but are still attached to the backbone….," the doctor went on as he pointed to two pairs of ribs on the back area of the skeleton.

Wade's hands wound around to his lower back and found the missing pairs right where the doctor said they'd be.

"Huh. What do you know, he's right. I mean, duh!" He bopped himself on the forehead, "Of course he's right. He's a fucking doctor. Hey Wolvie, you're missing some interesting stuff here."

"Mmph," Logan only grunted in response, not even hearing what Wade had actually said as he started to drift further into fully passing out.

Wade then had a thought pop into his mind as he looked over at his near-comatose friend. Logan's torso was a lot shorter than his own so he wondered if it was true that all humans had the same number of ribs. The doc hadn't specified if it was possible to have less and Wade's hyper mind needed an answer right away.

"Hmm. I suppose I could just Google it to find out for sure, but nah! I prefer to do my own field study. Plus you all need a fun little fic to read, and I know Logan won't mind if it tickles just a teensy little bit. Commence Operation How-Many-Ribs-Does-A-Wolverine-Have."

He slid over and wiggled his fingers up in the air before placing them on the bottom of Logan's ribcage, pressing in gently to feel the first two ribs as the man immediately jumped and blinked his eyes open in a groggy daze.

"Whatistha….Wade? What-heheh-What're you doin'?" He batted at Wade's hands with very little accuracy from being half-asleep, giggles escaping him as the fingers moved up to the next set of ribs.

"Well if you had stayed awake Peanut, you would have seen this educational program I've been watching about the human body. They say there are 24 ribs in a human, but I was curious if it applied to all body heights. Being that you're a little shorter than me I wanted to see if you had the same," Wade explained his current lunacy as Logan started to wake up a little more though it took him a moment to really process everything that had been said.

"Huh? The fuck are ya-eheheheehee-Ribs? Course I do, dipshihihit. Now stohahahop it," he was unsuccessful in trying to block out Wade's hands as they continued up his sides.

"I sure will. Once I have verified the facts. Though I'm pretty sure this would go a lot quicker if you would just hold still," Wade smirked big time, knowing there was absolutely no way Logan could ever stay still for something like this when his torso was so ridiculously sensitive, "Okay looks like that's number 5…..and oh, there's 6…."

"How abohohout I c-count your teeheeheeheeth after I knohohock 'em outta your fuhuhuhucking head?" Logan chuckled hard, taking a half-hearted and easily dodge-able swing with his fist towards Wade.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, muffin cakes. Come on, this is a fun game. At least smile, would ya?" Wade teased, looking down at his friend while increasing the speed that his fingers wiggled around against his sides.

The X-man's grin had lit up his normally stoic face while he made many attempts to shove Wade's arms away, but those nimble fingers were practically glued to his sides.

"Of ahahahall the stuhuhuhupid-Eeeheheheheheheh! Stahahahap, ya mohohohoron! Thehehehey're all thehehehere!" Logan was giggling uncontrollably and sinking back into the couch cushions, trying to will his body to phase through and escape but there was only so much give that he was allowed.

Truthfully after the relaxing day he'd had and the keg of beer in his belly he found that he wasn't too bothered about Wade waking him up with his dumb experiment.

"How can I be certain? Got any proof? Any reliable witnesses to corroborate your case? Hmm? Perhaps you have an x-ray of your body to show me? A scientific essay conducted by a world renowned researcher? Any of those would be acceptable."

Logan obviously could only shake his head.

"N-Nohohohohoo, buhut I can cuhuhut myself opehehehen and-ahahahahaa-you cahahahan loohoohook for yoursehehehelf!" He released one claw from his hand as Wade gasped in horror and quickly grabbed his wrist to pin it to the couch with his knee.

"Ohhh no you don't. You're crazy if you think I'm gonna allow my precious little badger to cause himself any harm. Besides my method is way less messy. Just wish I knew why you find it to be so funny," he stated, playing dumb as Logan attempted to growl through his giggles, though the intimidation factor was completely lost.

"Yohohohou f-fucking knohow why I'm lahahahahaughin', ya ihihihihidiot!" He retracted the sharp blade back into his body, trying to squirm free, "Now gehehehet outta thehehehere, ohohor ehehehelse!"

The threats were in full effect, but the claws remained sheathed.

Wade recognized that Logan was in a more light-hearted mood than normal, and he wasn't going to let it go to waste. If he had woken up with murder on his mind then Wade might have been more inclined to back off sooner. But now that he had the green light it was on!

"Or else what? Doesn't seem like you're trying too hard to stop me," he called his bluff and grinned at how the man weakly pulled at his wrists with his one free hand and was trying to curl up in defense.

He knew Logan would be fighting him a lot harder than this if he was really as disagreeable as he wanted him to think.

Actually, Wolverine had a little secret he was keeping. He would die before admitting it out loud, but there were times he found that he actually enjoyed this. Yes, enjoyed getting tickled within an inch of his life.

Definitely not at first though. And to fully grasp the situation we'll have to rewind the story just a…

"Aw nohohoo bub! Thehehey don't neeheed to hehehear all o' thahahat!"

Wade's heart skipped a beat as he gasped in excitement.

"Oh em gee! Your first fourth wall break! I'm so fucking proud of you!"

Shush, we're doing this.

Anyways Logan couldn't remember ever being tickled before so the day Wade had discovered that he was in fact quite ticklish he did everything in his power to fight him off and avoid it altogether. Wade wouldn't back off though and inevitably got him pinned down, even though it resulted in several stab wounds to his head and torso.

Having been alive for over 200 years Logan was very used to experiencing pain of some of the highest levels physically and mentally, but tickling was something very alien to him. Not surprisingly he struggled with processing the maddening, yet gentle touches.

He didn't like to show any signs of weaknesses, but being tickled completely overwhelmed his heightened senses, especially in the touch department, and it was impossible for him to not react to it. There had been feelings of anger and humiliation at how easily simple fingers were able to render him powerless, and it only got worse once he finally broke into agonized laughter.

Logan hated the feeling of not having control, especially over his own body. Once he had managed to break free, he had been extremely cross with Wade and went into one of his brooding moods for the majority of the day.

After giving him time to cool off, Wade eventually approached him to apologize, and Logan shrugged it off now that his temper had died down. Though he had been working on trying to better himself and he explained to Wade what it had made him feel and why he had reacted so strongly against it.

Wolverine being vulnerable enough to share his feelings with him was one of the only times Wade was ever completely serious and really gave his full attention. Despite getting a kick out of always annoying him Wade never wanted to cause him true stress and it made him feel like a real asshole when Logan ended up apologizing to him too.

Wade promised to never do it to him again but added that he just got carried away due to the fact that he really liked seeing Logan not only smile but laugh especially. Logan had become utterly stupefied by that confession. He thought Wade had only been trying to torment and embarrass him, which was what had really set him off.

He had then taken the next few days to reflect on that. He could definitely empathize with how good it felt to see someone you really cared about experiencing joy. Knowing that Wade's intentions were far from malicious had really put his mind at ease about it, realizing that his pride had gotten the better of him.

And the more he thought back on it it really wasn't that bad.

Which was why Wade's squawk of surprise when Logan tackled him from out of nowhere to attack his sides with tickles gave Logan the same fuzzy feeling he assumed Wade had had. Wade not only was laughing from the tickling, but from relief as well, realizing that he'd been unspokenly forgiven.

He didn't even fight it and just let Logan tickle him to his heart's content until finally the man stopped and grunted that he had hoped he'd "learned his lesson" while giving him a small smirk.

Wade was able to read between the lines and took the chance to pounce him the very next day, and despite some growling threats he received the older mutant didn't seem entirely displeased. Logan had completely let his guard down, which now enabled him to truly experience it in full.

Still, he made Wade work for it before he finally stopped holding in his laughter. The crazy merc then proceeded to make him laugh harder than he could ever remember doing in his past, and he found the brain chemical effects from that to do wonders for his mood.

The funny thing about it to Logan was that even though he was rendered helpless from tickling he realized that he was still 100% safe, and he found that to be a very comforting thought. It was a new experience for him to be in such a close proximity struggle where the end goal wasn't to try to hurt or kill him.

Sure, Wade would use tickling as a form of retaliation a lot of times, but it was all the same to Logan by now. Naturally he wasn't always in the mood for a tickle attack, but these days more often than not he didn't fight it too much and was quite content to let his roommate turn him into a squirming, wheezing wreck.

Of course, for appearances sake, Logan would still curse his head off and threaten the man's life at every turn. Up until the mischievous merc would tickle him to the point he could barely take it and turn that macho attitude into desperate pleas for mercy.

Which brings us back to our current situation.

"Dahahammit! I-I dihihihidn't ahahask for a wahahahaake up cahahahall!"

"No thanks needed! It's totally complimentary in el Casa de Wade. But don't mind me, feel free to go back to sleep. I'm just going to keep counting these ribs here until we get to the bottom of this. Ah, finally we found 7 and 8."

Wade was still acting as if this whole idea was just to count his ribs and hadn't even acknowledged that he was purposely tickling him and realizing that made Logan feel even more giddy as he let out a snort and shook his head.

"Wade c'mooon! Get ohohohoff! Ya-heehehehe-Ya know I'm ticklihihihihish, fucker!" His big-muscled arms were clamped so tightly against his sides, but there was no stopping the determined fingers crawling up his ribs.

"Whaaa? Wolverine? Ticklish? Ha! That's absurd! My guy Logan is way too mean and strong and tough to be affected by something so childish! Oh boy, and I thought I was the king of jokes around here. Now come on, stop messing around and just move your arms out of the way so I can finish this," Wade smirked, loving to tease him about his ticklishness in regard to his hard-core reputation.

"You fuhuhuhucking ahahahasshohohohole!" Logan snorted hard and now fell over to the side as he began scooting along the couch to get away.

"Heheh, where do you think you're going? Stop being so dramatic, Nancy Kerrigan. It's okay to make that joke now, right? 30 years later is fair," he shrugged at the camera, not letting up one bit as he followed along with his squirming prey, "I can feel 9 and 10 now. We're almost halfway there! Oooh! How exciting!"

"Cuhuhut it ohohohout! Heeheheheheheheh! Juhuhust drohop this stuhuhupid ideheeheeheea!"

The higher Wade went the stronger the tickling sensations felt, and Logan was pretty sure he was going to die before the last of his ribs were even reached, though in his mind it honestly wasn't the worst way for him to go.

"🎵 Ohhhh the itsy-bitsy spiders crawled up the waterspout….🎵," Wade effortlessly sing-songed with clawed fingers continuing their torturously slow progress, thoroughly scraping over every rib bone they came across, "🎵 Down came the rain….but couldn't wash the spiders out because they were having too much fun counting all these cute little ribbies. 🎵."

It always made Logan feel silly whenever Wade's teases took on a more juvenile form. He was the tenacious and deadly Wolverine and yet Wade was treating him like he was just some harmless little kid. He was never able to stop the blush from spreading across his face.

"Shuhuhuhuut uhuhuhup! Ohohor you're gohohonna haahahave another fuhuhuhuckin'-Hahahahahahehee-hohohohole t-to breheeheeheeathe outta yohohour fahahahat hehehehead!"

"Wow. We're body shaming now? I'm very sensitive about my fat head, you know. Well have you looked in the mirror lately, mister? Just walking around with those big, sexy arms and your handsomely chiseled jawline, and don't even get me started on all that sculpted beef that you're hiding in disgrace underneath this shirt. Yeah, doesn't feel so good now, does it, you absurdly attractive man? Uh huh….oh….yup, right there we got 11 and 12."

Wade was just so ridiculous sometimes, but when Logan was already caught in a laughing fit the merc's unstoppable blabbering only succeeded in making him laugh even harder. And unfortunately, he was slowly losing his will to carry on with acting tough through this tickle session.

"Fihihihiiine! I'm-heeheehehahahahaha-I'm sorrrrry! I tahahahake it bahahahaack! Just stooohohohoooop!" Logan didn't know how much more he could take of this. Actually, he did know due to having suffered under Wade's fingers for months now, and the answer was a lot.

"Why? I'm just trying to get a count here. 13……14…..It's for science. Hey look, I'm sorry……," Wade pretended to show some remorse before breaking into a huge smirk, "Sorry my wittle Wolvie-polvie is too freakin' ticklish for his own good!"

Logan's back finally met the armrest of the couch, preventing him from going any further as he leaned back over it to try to get away. Though this now had his ribcage fully stretched out as Wade stepped it up and dug his fingers in mercilessly between rib bones, making Logan positively howl in laughter.

"Ahahahahaa! Wade naahahahahahahaho! Pleheheease! Thahahahaat tickles!" He thrashed madly trying to wiggle away, but Wade had him pinned right where he wanted him as he just snickered at the situation.

"I think at this point you know that was part of my plan all along. Hehehe, but we're so close! Think of the prestige we'll get from this scientific breakthrough! Oh! I think I just found 15! Oooh! And could that be 16?! C'mon, buddy! Bear with me now!"

The upper ribs were basically in Logan's armpits that were covered with a more fleshy layer and Wade was really having to probe in there to actually feel the bones beneath.

"Not thehehehere! Noohot thehehehehehehhehehere! Haahahahaheeheeheeheehaa! Mehehehehercyyyyyy! Logan squealed helplessly with his head tilted back and showing off his elongated canine teeth; his face as red as a tomato as tears squeezed out of his tightly shut eyes.

The feral man's t-shirt had ridden up, exposing the lower half of his ripped stomach and Wade was currently in a position where it was at eye level. He smirked as he thought about how crazy Logan got whenever he would blow raspberries into his tummy, and he found the urge to do so was just too strong to resist as he took a deep breath.

"WAAAHahAHaHAhaHAHAAADE!!" Logan screamed with the first oral assault landing directly around his navel, breaking into silent laughter while wheezing desperately for air. Many more blows were delivered to his belly and ribs while the fingers continued tickling in his armpits as Logan summoned up any energy he had left and pushed with all he had in him at Wade's head and shoulders.

Eventually after being slapped and punched in the head so many times, Wade finally allowed himself to be pushed away, taking one last nibble at his hip bone.

"Geez, calm down Hugh, you over actor," he chuckled as he looked down at the man who was currently swallowing all the air he could and gingerly wiping away at tears.

"Okaaahaahay…..Fuckin' Hell……That's it…..for nohohow…..Y-You got me…..good……No more….right?"

"Weeeeeell if you would have just stayed still, we could have had this all over with. But noooooo, you just had to make me lose count," Wade sighed loudly in feigned disappointment, "Looks like I'm gonna have to start aaaallllllll over again."

With a wicked grin he began reaching out towards the still incapacitated man who was now shaking his head frantically as his hands raised in defense.

"N-No Wade. Not again. Stay back. Heehehehe-please. I can't take any more," he couldn't help giggling in anticipation as Wade hovered over him again.

"Hold still now…Don't worry Peanut, we'll get through this together. So that's 1……and 2…….and a coochie coochie coo…," Wade started again on his waist to get at his bottom ribs as Logan was already breaking into squeals.

"20?! Again?! For real?! I've counted three times already!"

Logan was hanging halfway off the couch; his hair sticking out in every direction and his cheeks slicked with tears as he coughed and tried to regain any hint of sanity he had left.

"It's……It's……fine…….Wade…..I'm sure……..they're in……there……somewhere……," he panted weakly, slowly starting to feel his energy revitalize.

"Or maybe you really do only have 20? My theory that you have fewer since you are shorter may be correct!" Wade was getting lost in his thoughts, but then at that moment a voice of reason sounded off.

"And remember, the 11th and 12th pair of ribs are referred to as 'floating ribs' and are only attached at the backbone….," the television was still on and by this point the doctor had gone back around and was summarizing everything he had just talked about.

The light bulb finally went on in Wade's head.

"Oh yeeeeah……forgot about those little buggers," Wade slowly turned to look at his friend whose eyes went wide as he scrambled to get away.

Five seconds later and Wade had Logan pinned on his stomach as his fingers wiggled into his lower back to find the missing rib pairs while Logan cackled wildly and pounded his fists with his feet uselessly kicking at the cushions.

"23…..and 24! Well would you look at that! I guess all humans are the same after all!" Wade declared happily as he finally climbed off of his roommate, signaling the end of his reign of terror, "Whaddya think, Wolvie? Aren't you so glad to have that useful little tidbit of information at your disposal?"

Logan gradually rolled over onto his back and raised an annoyed brow.

"Could've just fuckin' Googled it, bub," he growled, though a smile was still stuck on his face.

"Okay I admit waking you up may not have been the nicest way to go about it, but you know how impatient I am. And be honest, you really don't seem that upset about it," Wade grinned, reaching over to scribble fingers over his now exposed stomach while Logan snorted chuckles and tried to block him out with his knees before rolling away.

"You're lucky I didn't piss my pants, asshole. Drank a shit load of beers right before I fell asleep. I gotta piss like a fucking racehorse now," Logan stumbled to his feet and walked off to use the bathroom.

Wade grinned as he watched him walk away before turning to the audience.

"He's cute, ain't he? And I didn't hear any denial in that, did you? He doesn't know that I heard the author spill his secret earlier. It's nice to know that he actually enjoys it, even if he won't say it. I'm totally good with that."

The sound of Logan groaning in relief echoed down the hallway followed by the toilet flushing several moments later before he walked back out to join Wade on the couch.

"Did you make sure to put the seat back down? Althea won't be happy if she falls in again," he asked as Logan looked at him with a frown.

"That one was on you, shithead. I always remember to. You've lived how many years with this poor lady? I seriously don't know how she's put up with your stupid, inconsiderate ass for so long."

"Exactly the same way you do, sugar tits," Wade grinned and pinched his cheek, receiving an adamantium elbow into his side and grunting as the air was knocked out of him momentarily.

"It's a daily struggle that's for sure. But I owe ya a lot for breaking me out of my destructive cycle, so we'll call it even," Logan had softened his demeanor, knowing he truly owed Wade his gratitude as the other man noted this and took advantage of his guard being down.

"Awww there it is! Right there! I knew you loved me!" Wade squealed as he jumped onto Logan's lap and wrapped his arms around his head in the tightest of hugs.

"Gaah! Wade! Fuckin' dammit! Let go of me!" Logan struggled to pry Wade off of him until he was hit with a moment of inspiration as he latched his fingers onto Wade's unprotected sides to start tickling him with everything he had.

"Aahaahahah! Logan dohohohohooot! Thahahahat's nohohohot fahahahaaair!" Wade yelped with giggles as he quickly tried to escape, but Logan held him firmly in place.

"Fair? Okay, let's be fair. See we learned that all my ribs are there, but seems we've overlooked yours. Think it's best we check that out right away, don't you?" Logan asked with a crooked grin as Wade frantically shook his head while thrashing in his lap, "No? Well ain't that just too damn bad."

Logan dug right in with both strong hands, not even hiding the fact that his mission was to tickle the absolute shit out of his roommate.

"Okaahahahay yohohou cahahan cheheheck! Heheehhehahah! Juhuhust nohoho tihihihickling!"

"Now how do ya expect me to do that? You got an x-ray or some bullshit to show me? A fuckin' thesis paper on the matter? What? Ya don't? Well that fuckin' sucks for you. Looks like we're doing this the old-fashioned way. What number was I on? Oh yeah….1…….1…….1……1 again….."

"Cahahahahaaan't you fuhuhucking cohohount, you neahahahanderthal?!?!"

Logan smirked big time, repeatedly prodding into the same rib over and over.

"Guess not. Numbers apparently aren't my strong suit. Looks like this is gonna take alllll day then."

Wade could only laugh and squeal in response, knowing he had sealed his own doom.

[m00ngbin]

For the first time in my life I'm actually (seriously) considering majoring in English or creative writing or linguistics

[bunnihearted]

i've also realized that there is no therapy that can fix what's broken inside of me

[just-jordie-things]

friendly neighborhood spiderman - fushiguro megumi

word count: 25k i need a lobomy warnings: swearing, men making reader uncomfortable, some blood n bruises summary: besides being morally gray, megumi has never crossed any personal boundaries while protecting the city disguised as the spiderman. that is, until it comes to her. a thorn in his side, a plague to his mind, and a skip in his heart. wait, what?

notes: SPIDERMAN AU! rivals to unknown friends to unknown lovers to..??

___

With great power comes great responsibility…

To that, Fushiguro Megumi said; no shit.  

Living a double life wasn’t always the easiest thing in the world, but the justice part came to him naturally.  He didn’t like to call his abilities superpowers, there was something too childish about it, but since gaining them, Megumi had known there was some kind of reason.

Maybe it was because he had a stronger sense of right and wrong than most of the people he knew.  His peers at the college he attended seemed to have more interest in alcohol poisoning than anything else, so he supposed it made sense that if a radioactive spider bit had to give someone powers… it might as well have been him.

Besides, he was kind of a loner, so it wasn’t hard to hide his double life.  Every day he followed the same routine.

Wake up early to work out and do a quick patrol of the city, try to get to his classes on time, study in between lectures, study through lunch, and then as soon as his last class of the day was over he was off to swing through the city and keep an eye on things.

There had been an uptick in crime in Tokyo lately, and Megumi hadn’t quite put his finger on why.  It had never been the safest city in Japan, but since taking on this role it seemed like criminals everywhere were crawling out of the cracks and shadows to challenge him.  Not that anything had proven to be too challenging for The Spiderman… petty criminals made it easy.

“Late again, Fushiguro” 

There were, however, challenges that Megumi faced.

(y/n) swiveled around in her seat just as he’d sat down behind her.  To think he’d patted himself on the back for only being three minutes late today.  He should’ve known she was counting down the minutes to rub it in his face.

Resting her elbows on the back of her seat so she could smirk at him, she plops her chin on her fists and eyes him curiously.  Megumi can’t even be bothered to roll his eyes, he’d grown too tired of the same banter every day.

If she couldn’t take his place at the top of the class, (y/l/n) (y/n) would have to find some other way to antagonize Megumi- and she took that job all too seriously.  Unfortunately their class schedules were almost identical, seeing as they were both enrolled in as many accelerated courses as they could be, so Megumi spent most of his day in her vicinity.  And hell, she never let him forget it.

When he barely even looks at her, (y/n) turns back around in her seat, seemingly already prepping her notebook for her notes of the day.  She’s probably one of those girls that makes every page pretty and aesthetically pleasing, Megumi finds himself frowning at his own train of thought.  He only had seven more hours of putting up with her competitive attitude, and then he’d be free and far from it.

Nothing cleared his mind like swinging around the city.  She couldn’t possibly plague him once he was in his suit.  He tried to tell himself that through the rest of class, everytime her hand shot up in the air and she bragged her way through perfect, textbook answers.

It was no doubt that she’d be successful after graduation.  Megumi would rather die than admit it out loud, but he wouldn’t be surprised in the least if she ended up a millionaire- billionaire- with how well studied and determined she was to win.  If she put half the effort into her future career that she did just by bothering him, she’ll probably earn herself some title of youngest most successful woman. 

Hopefully by then she’ll be too busy to bother him anymore.  Although Megumi assumes that by the time graduation rolls around, he’ll never see her again.  

She was probably counting down the days until then, too. ___

Megumi spent his lunches alone.

This didn’t really bother him.  He didn’t have much interest in making friends, and never put much effort into it.  He liked to think he was kind, but he knew he wasn’t the most approachable guy in the world.  If he was honest, he kind of liked it that way.  So long as he kept his clothes dark, his face expressionless, and his hair untamed, then he seemed to ward people off.  No one approached his usual small table in the corner of the lunchroom unless they needed to borrow one of the extra empty chairs.  Even then, people seemed nervous to ask, and more often than not someone would scurry over and take one without a word, rushing it back to their table before Megumi could say something untoward.

The way he dressed himself wasn’t the only thing keeping people away.  His reputation might have something to do with it as well…

But that fight wasn’t his fault.  Not necessarily.  So what if someone got sent to the hospital? Megumi was a believer in consequences being served… and if no one else was going to deliver, then he supposed it came down to him to do the right thing.  This was before the spider bite, before Spiderman, so his strong sense of justice had nowhere to be channeled.

To Megumi, all that mattered was the guy learned his lesson.  And by the way, he did live.  He just had to spend a week in Intensive Care to pull through, is all.

Unapproachable was an understatement when it came to Megumi.

Maybe that’s why he found (y/n) all the more obnoxious.

He minds his business during his lunch hour- although he’d argue that he minds his business all the time.  Sitting in the corner with headphones large enough to make the point clear that he didn’t want to be bothered, his nose was always stuck in a book.  He’d eat with one hand and scribble in his notebooks with the other.  Even if he could afford a laptop he didn’t want to use one.  His time was better utilized if he could study and eat  simultaneously.

The corner of his eye twitches when he catches a glimpse of her in his peripheral.  He hates that the hair on the back of his neck stands up when she shows up, all of his nerves tingling like a warning.  His grimace is obvious as he finds her walking through the cafe with the little lunch box he knew was perfectly organized in multiple compartments.  She probably didn’t let any of her food touch.

She’s stopped on her mission to get to her table of know-it-all friends, and Megumi shouldn’t care that some guy called her over to his table to talk to her, it’s a bit of a boring scene, honestly.  He should get back to his studying now, but for some reason he’s compelled to watch from the back of the room as (y/n) drags her feet over to the guy’s table.

Megumi doesn’t recognize him, or really any of his surrounding friends, but by the looks of it they seemed like the kind of guys that wouldn’t have gotten into the classes he’s taking.

A year ago Megumi wouldn’t have been able to hear their conversation, not from across the busy cafe where a hundred other conversations are happening, but now he finds it easy to tune out all the other noise and eavesdrop on (y/n) and this frat boy.

“You always walk by without saying hello.  You tryin’ to hurt my feelings, princess?” The frat boy feigns heartbreak, holding his hand to his chest all the while grinning at her.

“Hello”

(y/n’s) reply is rigid.  She sounds as bored as Megumi feels watching her.  He almost scoffs at himself for even paying this much attention.  Clearly his little warning sense was misfiring, because nothing of interest is playing out here.  He was starting to consider this a waste of his heightened abilities.

“Awe, c’mon now gorgeous, you can do better than that,” Fratboy clicks his tongue in mockery.  “Why don’t you come sit?” 

“I’m sitting with my friends” 

Once again, her tone is as flat and dry as could be.  Megumi starts to wonder what Fratboy even wants with her.  Besides her personality being insufferable, she clearly isn’t interested in whatever he’s offering.  How many hints can this guy possibly miss?

“Rain check?” Fratboy asks hopefully.  It could almost be endearing if it wasn’t for the slimy grin he wore.  Megumi hated to think it, but (y/n) outranked this guy on every scale.

“Yeah.  Maybe” (y/n’s) voice falls to a mumble before she turns and walks away, this time at a faster pace than before.

As she finds her place at her table, she glances over her shoulder, feeling the prickle of someone’s eyes following her.  Megumi’s senses are one step ahead, and he’s quick to drop his head to focus back on his studies again.  He’d already lost five minutes to watch a pointless interaction, he didn’t need to lose more time by facing her evil eye if she’d caught him staring at her.

Idiot, he thinks as he takes a more aggressive bite of his food than necessary.  Getting behind on schedule for (y/n) of all people.  

He pushes the whole thing as far from his mind as he can as he gets back to work. ___

Tokyo had been rather quiet this evening.  Not that Megumi was complaining.  It was refreshing to see the streets peaceful, even this late into the night.

Eleven o’clock might not be the ideal dinner time for your average person, but for Spiderman, it was the norm.  And Megumi liked having a quiet night where he could have a quick street food dinner at the skyline overlooking the whole city.  It was peaceful up there.  With all the stars out, a perfect breeze coming in, and without the noise of pedestrians out and about down on the streets, Megumi could positively say this was his secret piece of heaven.

Most things about his life were a secret- but this especially he held this place close.

As expected there wasn’t a single pesky thought of school on his mind.  Like the sky, it was clear and peaceful.

At least it was, until he was mid-bite of his sandwich and he caught sight of something sketchy in his peripheral.

The familiar sensation of the hair on the back of his neck prickling rises when he turns to watch the scene unfold.  An unmarked car with blackout windows pulling up behind one of the many small 24-7 convenience stores and a few men with various clown masks getting out of it.  He huffs in annoyance, already swinging down and dumping the remainder of his perfectly good sandwich in the trash.

When were these idiots going to learn that robbing a convenience store was never worth it? He wonders as he lands on the roof of the building the men had just gone into.  He finds there’s only one guy left in the car, the getaway driver he’s sure.  Pulling his mask over his face he’s swift and silent in webbing up the door handles and tires of the car.  He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Just as silently, he drops to the ground, and enters the store.

It’s not the first time Spiderman has made an appearance during a stick up.  And Megumi’s sure it won’t be his last, seeing as no one ever learns.

“Well if it isn’t Spiderboy” One of the three clowns, Megumi assumes the ringleader, taunts him with a laugh.  He cocks his gun and aims it at him, but Megumi’s not the slightest bit threatened by a gun.  Typical, he thinks.

He barely acknowledges the silent threat at all, instead scoping out the store quickly.  

There’s one man behind the counter, his hands raised and shaking.  It appears he hasn’t handed over any money yet, which is good.  It makes for a quicker and cleaner exit for Megumi.

A couple is cowering behind the first aisle of snacks, trying to peek over the shelves without being seen- they’re not doing a very good job, but with Spiderman here now Megumi figures they’ve assumed their safety is guaranteed.  They aren’t wrong.

And then there was a girl in the very back, two aisles behind the couple, and apparently far less brave as well.  She’s crouched all the way to the ground, her hands clasped tightly over the back of her neck as if this was a tornado drill and not a robbery.  At least her head is down, Megumi thinks.  It’s not often he comes across civilians with a decent sense of self preservation.

“Did you hear me, Spiderboy-?” The ringleader’s second taunt is barely finished before there’s two webs flying at him.  One aimed for the barrel of his gun, covering his mask, gluing it straight to his face and muffling his mouth.

“Yeah yeah, I fuckin’ heard you,” Megumi grumbles.  Criminals loved to call him all sorts of names, he figured it comes with the job, but man did it get old.

There’s two other clowns, lackeys, he supposes.  These types hardly worked alone these days.  Megumi always wondered if they thought being in numbers would protect them from Spiderman.  Again, they never learn.

It takes him all of five seconds to web up their weapons as well.  Some glued to their hands and chest, rendering them useless, others so tied up in the sticky string that they couldn’t move any limbs if they tried.

“You think you can go around playing hero and people will respect you for it?” One of the lackeys snarls when Megumi tears the mask from his face.  He does the same for the other, but the second clown seems too afraid to speak.  Good.  “People ‘round here don’t give a shit, Spiderboy.  You think they’ll thank you? Heh? You think they’ll throw you a nice parade and chant your name?” 

Megumi rolls his eyes, patting down his pockets in search of any identifiable information.  Like he presumed, he finds a phone and wallet.  Sometimes it felt like these guys weren’t even trying to get away with their crimes.

Paying the lackey clown no mind, he turns over his shoulder and motions to the couple behind the shelf.  They raise their heads a little further, eyes wide and seemingly surprised Spiderman was addressing them.

“It’s safe to go,” He tells them with a wave of his hand.  “Go straight to the police station to report this” 

Does he have faith they’ll listen? No, he assumes they’ll be likely to go home.  Megumi doesn’t care much.  The police weren’t exactly his allies.  But if he was going to do their jobs for them, he was going to have to at least act like he was playing by their rules.

“Playing nice with the cops, tch,” The loudmouth lackey continues on.  “When they show up, they’ll take you before they take any of us- mmph!” 

“Much better,” Megumi sighs when his webbing does just the trick to shut the guy up.  Will he suffocate with it covering his mouth? Of course not, “Breathe through your nose,” He grumbles when the lackey’s face starts to take on a blue hue.  “Fucking idiots, you’re all the fucking same” He sighs, dropping the guy’s phone and open wallet on the ground before him, making sure it’s on perfect display for when the cops arrive.

“Th-thank you, Spiderman,” The shopkeeper behind the counter finally begins to lower his hands.  It appears he’s still shaking, but Megumi’s sure it’s the adrenaline rush he’s coming down from.  He’ll be fine in no time.  Especially once the police arrive and whisk these guys away.  “I- I don’t know how I can repay you” 

“It was nothing” Megumi replies, monotone as ever, but it’s the truth.  The whole ordeal was over in the matter of three minutes.  A robbery had barely begun when he’d shown up and shut it down.

The shopkeeper looks startled by the less-than-friendly attitude of his savior, but he doesn’t say a word, just picks up his phone to dial up the police.

Megumi’s on the move heading out of the store, ready to make himself scarce before law enforcement shows up, but of course he can’t leave just yet.

“Hey,” He calls towards the last civilian in the shop, the girl crouched on the ground, still covering herself.  “Hey,” He calls again when she doesn’t react, taking a few steps towards her.  “You’re good to go now,” He says, but even still, she doesn’t move.

It takes a tap on her shoulder for her to startle, finally uncovering the back of her head and looking up at him.  She stays on the ground, but now Megumi’s stunned to silence as well as he stares back at her.

(y/n)? He’s grateful for his mask for the millionth time but in a whole new way now.  What the hell was she doing out here in the middle of the night? 

She doesn’t say anything as she stares up at him with wide eyes.  He can’t tell if she’s still in shock, but the longer he waits for her to say something, she doesn’t.

“Are you… alright?” 

It’s a normal question to ask, he probably says it a hundred times a night, making sure no one’s left hurt or afraid.  But this time, asking her, it felt foreign coming out of his mouth.  He’s never been put in a position to… care… about her wellbeing before.  But now’s as good a time as any, seeing as she’s still got her knees to her chest and a shell shocked look on her face.

“You’re- you’re Spiderman” Is the first thing she says, her voice barely above a whisper.  Megumi could roll his eyes, but he’s too busy waiting for her to get up and get moving.

“And you’re not sitting around here all night, c’mon” He beckons her upwards, and to his surprise she takes it as an offer to grab his hand, and he finds himself pulling her up to her feet.

“You’re a lot taller than I thought you’d be” She mumbles, and if she could see his face she’d watch a look of puzzlement befall him.

“Get that a lot” He mutters, making an obvious motion to eye the hand that she still has gripping his gloved one.

“Oh, sorry,” She’s still quiet, quieter than he’s ever heard her speak before, and it’s starting to intrigue him.  

Was she this afraid of a pesky little robbery? He wondered, looking her up and down.  She wasn’t trembling, she showed little to no sign of distress at all.  For a girl that had nearly gone full armadillo just a few minutes ago, she didn’t seem all that afraid.

“I’m just- uh-” She clears her throat, and Megumi thinks it’s the first time he’s ever heard her stammer, or misspeak at all.  “I’m a big fan” She finishes, her quiet voice sounding more shy now than anything else.

Wait, what!? 

“A fan?” Megumi repeats in disbelief, and (y/n) smiles softly as she nods her head.

“You don’t get that a lot too?” She asks, inching towards speaking at a normal volume.

This is the part where he leaves, and he knows it.  The authorities were bound to be close now, and it’d give him more trouble if he was still around when they got here.  He couldn’t be wasting his time, especially on her.

But he lingers there for a second longer anyways.  There was an undeniably curiosity creeping under his skin.  Never would he have pegged (y/l/n) (y/n), regular goody-goody, as a Spiderman fan.  It had him wondering if there was more to her than met the eye.  

Maybe she was… a normal person…? Could it be true? 

Flashing lights interrupted his thoughts, his head swiveling to see approaching red and blue

“Fuck!” He cursed, and behind him (y/n) covered her mouth to stifle her giggle.  Jeez, did she expect some squeaky clean guy to be under the mask? “You’re fine, right?” He asks her, already stepping away to make his escape.

(y/n) nods her head, still giving him an awestruck look.  It makes his face feel hot under his mask.  Could she really be this enamored with Spiderman? So much so she’s rendered speechless.

“Right- well- maybe stop shopping in the middle of the night and you find yourself in these situations” He tries to be serious, but she grins as she nods back at him in agreement.

“I’ll try my best, Spiderman” 

With that he’s out the door and swinging off just before the cops round the corner to the building.  He’d just narrowly missed them, but that was the closest he’d come to getting spotted by them in quite a while.  Until then, he’d done a good job making a clean getaway.

He huffs and tugs his mask off of his head when he finds a fire escape distant enough to rest at.  Of all the crimes he’s interrupted, that was definitely one for the books.  And it had nothing to do with the tacky clown masks or shitty execution.

His chest felt tight, an odd feeling creeping into his bones.

Shit.  He still hadn’t had a proper dinner. ___

Megumi’s exhausted the next morning when he strolls into class.  He’s five minutes late today, but he tells himself that ten is his limit so he’s still doing just fine.  He never gets a second glance from the professor anyways- with his grades? His professor wouldn’t care if he didn’t show up to class at all.

(y/n), however, cares very much about Megumi’s punctuality.

“Who taught you to be so disrespectful of other people’s time, Fushiguro?” She mocks a pout at him, already turned around in her seat to bother him as usual.

Megumi gives her a bored look, maintaining eye contact as he opens his notebook to a fresh page.  (y/n) raises a brow impatiently, waiting for some kind of response, but Megumi remains silent.  This is fitting for him, he rarely engages in her banter these days, but his silence feels different today.  Something about the way he looks at her makes her feel like he’s sizing her up, or something.

“What?” The word comes out in a mumble, her brows furrowing as he meets his inquisitive stare with a confused glare.

Megumi purses his lips, shakes his head, taps the eraser of his pencil rhythmically against his notebook.

“Nothing” 

It’s all he has to say, and for once (y/n) doesn’t have a snarky remark.  She just gives him a weird look and faces forward in her seat again.  Maybe he’d caught her off guard by actually speaking to her, even if it was just one word, it’s more than he’s given in a while.  Pretty much since the spider bite.  Engaging in petty arguments seemed pointless after that.

As he takes notes on the lecture of the day, he can’t help but be drawn to the back of (y/n’s) head.  He didn’t like the idea of giving her any of his attention, but his thoughts were drifting out of his control, and he couldn’t stop replaying last night in his mind.  The way she looked at him, smiled at him, like he was her hero.  And now today he was reduced to the dirt under her perfectly clean shoe.  It was like he had a secret about her now.  There might not be a way for him to dangle it over her head openly… but he knew, and for now, that was enough.

By the time class ended, Megumi already had his bag packed up, and he was the first out the door.  If he got to the next lesson before her, he could claim a seat in the back where she wouldn’t dare be caught sitting.  Maybe then he wouldn’t get so distracted.

Even with his heightened senses however, he doesn’t notice the way (y/n) watches him book it out of the classroom, a knot between her brows at his odd behavior.  Because since when has Fushiguro Megumi rushed to class? ___

It’s hard not to notice Megumi is avoiding her more than usual.  She shared almost every class with him, besides one art course she took, (y/n) saw him every hour of the day.  It also helped that being the top two of their class they were always seated somewhere near the front, and closer to each other than either one of them would like.

It doesn’t bother her that Megumi’s been sitting in the back of the class with the other slackers.  She couldn’t care less if he decided not to come to class at all- in fact it would be wonderful for her.  If his grades slipped just a little bit she could take his spot as top student, a position that was rightfully hers seeing as she was punctual and present in every class.  Unlike Megumi, who hardly participated unless asked to, and acted like he couldn’t care less about his status.

She always wondered if he truly didn’t care about his ranking.  He certainly acted like he didn’t, rolling his eyes at her comments if he wasn’t ignoring her completely.  But was it just an act? 

(y/n) made it an effort not to think any more about Fushiguro Megumi than she had to.  But sometimes he made that difficult for her.  Like now, when he’s sitting in the back of the class with his blocky headphones on.  She can’t help but peek over her shoulder at him, eyeing the way he actively took notes from what was on the whiteboard at the front of the class.  But how well could he learn if he wasn’t even listening? 

He catches her staring not a second later, his bored blue eyes landing on hers and holding her stare.  His expression is unchanging, completely neutral as he stares back at her, but it still feels intense.  (y/n’s) quick to shoot her eyes forward and begin scribbling messy words in her otherwise neatly kept notebook.  Was it just intense because he’d caught her staring right at him? Her face feels warm, her heartbeat kicks into an anxious pattern.

Clearly, whatever his issue was, she needed to just ignore it completely.  He seemed to do just fine doing the same, maybe it was time for her to take a page out of his book and give him the same treatment.

Still, her eyes catch him in every hallway, every class, every moment he’s around, she spots and scans him as if there’s going to be some hint as to what brought on his change in behavior. ___

A couple of peaceful weeks were well appreciated, but Megumi must’ve taken them for granted, because tonight was a rough one.

He could enjoy a good fight, he’d grown up a fighter, so it all came naturally to him.  Right hook, dodge, web, kick, swing- there were just a few extra steps to his hand-to-hand that came from the spider bite’s abilities.  To him, that made the act of fighting all the more fun.  He wasn’t afraid to admit he got a certain rush out of beating someone up.  When it was justified, there wasn’t a feeling like it.

Getting beat up, however, sucked.

Maybe the guy was on steroids, maybe the adrenaline got to his head and his fight or flight kicked into high gear, Megumi wasn’t sure what his deal was, but he certainly took a beating before finally knocking the petty handbag thief out and getting him webbed up for the cops to take care of.

It wasn’t till he got away and found an alley secluded enough that he was able to check his injuries.  He didn’t have to take his mask off to know his head had taken most of the damage.  He could taste the blood of his split lip, and feel the hot throbbing behind his eye.  

Great.  Going to class with a black eye won’t draw any attention.

With a groan he leaned back into the brick of one of the surrounding buildings, trying to even out his labored breathing.  It wouldn’t be a surprise if he found his torso littered with black and blue, too.  As much as it hurt, Megumi was more irritated than anything.  Hiding injuries was the worst part of his secret double life.  College kids always wanted to hear the gnarly stories behind visible cuts and bruises.  Megumi only hoped his shitty reputation would be enough to keep people away.

He couldn’t sit around for long, there was still a city that needed patrolling, so Megumi kicked off the wall and took a few deep, harsh breaths as he left the alley, ready to go for a swing around the next few blocks to make sure everything was as it should be.  Quiet.  It was almost one in the morning, most people should be turned in for the night by now.

Just as he reaches the sidewalk and before he can fly off into the air, however, he’s met by a not-quite-stranger.

(y/n) almost runs right into him, speed walking down the sidewalk with her head down, clearly on a mission.  Had he stepped out a second later she might’ve crashed into him, but it’s hard for her to not notice the six foot tall man in a head to toe black suit.

For half a second she looks alarmed- rightfully so, a strange man just came out of an alley, if she had half a mind she’d turn and run without thinking.  But as expected, Megumi finds she has no sense of self preservation as she looks at the block in her path with a grin.

“You again” She greets him like she knows him now.  (She does know him, but she doesn’t know she knows him, you know?) And her smile is so genuinely bright that Megumi starts to feel sick.

“Again,” He sighs, the groan in his voice not going unnoticed.  “Didn’t I tell you not to walk around alone this late at night?” His voice still sounds weird, and it’s shortly after that (y/n) notices his hand hovering over his ribcage.

“Did you get hurt, or something?” She ignores him completely, all the while putting her phone in her pocket to give him her full attention.

“I’m Spiderman, I don’t get hurt” Megumi argues, but the wince in his voice is obvious, and (y/n) somehow sees right through it.

“Okay… well… even Spiderman has to go to urgent care sometimes, right?” She tries to be lighthearted, but her smile is wavering now, concern seeping into her features.

Megumi can barely stand to look at her.  What is she doing? Staring at him like that, like she knows him, like she cares about him.  Can’t she just go the fuck home where it’s safe and more importantly: away from him?

“Tch, I don’t think so” He mutters.

(y/n) frowns.

“Spoken like a true idiot man,” She scolds.  Jeez, last time they crossed paths like this she’d said she was a fan, now this? “What is it with you guys and your reputations, huh? You’re not any stronger for toughing out an injury without help, you know” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, mom” Megumi argues back.  She scoffs, but it turns into a small laugh shortly after.

“You could at least put ice on it, you know” She says, stepping past him and continuing on her way down the sidewalk.  Megumi tosses his head back to silently curse at the sky.

“Did I not make myself clear that you should go home?” He calls after her.

“Ice is this way” Is all (y/n) says, and all she has to say to get him to groan at nothing in particular and follow after her.

It’s a good thing it’s so late at night, there’s no one to see Spiderman walking around with some random girl.  Surely the papers would have a hay day if even a photo was snapped… he doesn’t even want to think about what kind of headlines they’d come up with.

“I can buy my own ice” He tells her after a minute of walking in silence.

“I know,” (y/n) shrugs.  “But so far it seems like you’re letting me hang out with you, so I’ve gotta enjoy it just a little bit longer” 

“We’re not hanging out,” Megumi replies dryly.  “You’re refusing to go home when it’s the middle of the night and I’m…” He trails off, not wanting to say what he’s thinking, but he doesn’t have to.

“Awe, Spidey’s lookin’ out for me?” She’s smiling at him again, holding her hands behind her back as she looks up at him.  “You starting to like me?” 

“You’re starting to bother me,” Megumi quips back, but it’s followed by a chuckle he can’t help, and it only seems to endear (y/n) further.  “I don’t usually give people follow up warnings,” He mutters with a shake of his head.  “What’re you doing out this late, anyways?” He asks before he can help it.  “Don’t you have, like, school, or something?” It’s difficult to act like he doesn’t know she spends her nights studying herself to death.

“Maybe I’m going to a party” (y/n) shrugs.

“Tch, no you’re not” 

“How do you know?” 

“Not dressed like that” Megumi comments, making a point to look her up and down.

(y/n) huffs, but there’s no denying the evidence right in front of them both.  She’s wearing leggings that were at least a couple years old, and a large sweatshirt that was teetering the line of well loved and ratty.  

“Okay, well, maybe this time I’m not” She says, and Megumi bites back a smile.  He’s pretty sure that a girl like (y/l/n) (y/n) has never stepped foot in a house party.  And he knows because he hasn’t, either.

“Still not an answer” He reminds her.

“I was going to pick up some energy drinks,” (y/n) finally admits.  “It’s a short walk from my apartment to the corner store, I do it all the time.  Even without Spiderman watching over me” 

He chuckles at that, wondering just how many times she’s made the walk, no matter how short, in the middle of the night.  Couldn’t she just get them before she goes home for the day?

“And you just have to go in the middle of the night?” He scolds her, but she doesn’t seem too affected by it.

“That’s when I need them the most” She replies with a shrug.

“You always drink energy drinks that late?” 

“What, you worried about me or something?” She fires back, a curious look on her face.  “Y’know, I haven’t heard much about you talking to people” 

“I don’t” 

“You’re talking to me” She points out matter of factly, a tone of hers that Megumi was already far too familiar with.

“You’re kind of leaving me no choice” 

(y/n’s) quiet for a moment, and it seems like she’s contemplating something, but whatever it is she doesn’t let him in on, instead smiling and turning her attention to the sidewalk as they walk.

Megumi ducks into the alley next to the convenience store when (y/n) goes in.  He’s unceremonious as he drops himself to the ground, sighing in relief to be off of his feet.  His hand presses into his ribcage at a weak attempt to relieve the pain as he twists to try and find a comfortable position to sit in.  He doesn’t want (y/n) to come back and see him in any sort of pain- it wasn’t a good look for Spiderman to show any sign of weakness.

She’s quick to return, a plastic bag in one hand and a frozen bag of vegetables in the other.  Even behind the mask she must understand that he’s pulling a face at her, because she huffs in annoyance.

“They didn’t have ice” She explains, inviting herself to squat down next to him and offer up the vegetables.

“No no, you’re not sitting here,” Megumi bites back a whine when he sits upright in an attempt to urge her to leave.  “You need to go back home” 

“And miss a personal Q&A with Spiderman?” She replies, a small smile on her face when he finally snatches the vegetables out of her hand.  He grumbles a string of incoherent curses as he rests it over where the bruising feels the worst.

“That’s not happening” He mutters.

“This is why I never hear about you talking to people,” (y/n) sighs.  “You’re boring” 

“I’m not boring,” He argues.  “I just don’t have anything to say” 

“Well, you could start by thanking me for the veggies” (y/n) replies, tilting her head at him.

Megumi glares at her from behind his mask.  He didn’t need to reminder of her insufferable personality.  But… watching her smile so softly at him, like she would love nothing more than a thank you from Spiderman… maybe it’s just because he’s injured, but Megumi caves.

“Thank you” It comes out from behind his teeth, and she must know it, but Megumi swears he sees stars in her eyes.

“You’re welcome, Spiderman,” She murmurs back.

It comes out so genuine, so sweet, that there’s a pang in Megumi’s heart.  He doesn’t think any of the bruising spread so far up his chest, but it must’ve for him to feel such an odd sensation.

“I have to ask… cause I probably won’t see you again…” Her eyes land on the way his hand tenses and presses the frozen vegetables further against himself.  “Why do you do it?” 

When he doesn’t answer, she blinks at him, moving her head just enough to tell him that she really wanted him to say something.

Megumi figures she won’t leave him alone if he doesn’t say anything, so he goes with the truth.

“It’s the right thing to do” 

He shrugs lamely, and it takes a second for her to react at all.  At first it’s a furrow of her brows and a knowing smile, as if he just had to have an answer better than that.  But she didn’t know him as well as she liked to think, because she didn’t know Megumi.  

When he has nothing else to say, her expression slowly softens, and she hums thoughtfully.

“That’s it, huh?” She muses.  “You’re just… a good guy?” 

Just a guy, Megumi mentally corrects.  He might have heightened abilities, and a better sense of right and wrong than those around him, but he’s never considered himself a hero.  Just a guy trying to make things right, trying to keep people safe.

“Guess I try to be” His answer is as lame as his movements.  

If he were a superhero, he’d need some help with PR, but somehow, this makes him all the more special to (y/n).  She brightens, leans in closer and sets her hand over his, where he’s still holding the cold vegetables.

“Can I tell you something, Spiderman?” 

Hasn’t she been talking to him this whole time? If it wouldn’t hurt, Megumi would laugh.  Instead he just nods his head and waits for her to continue.

“I want to be a journalist because of you,” 

What? Megumi’s face warps into shock at the confession.  He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that.  She was on track to be a graduate of the sciences, whichever one she ended up choosing anyways.  He always saw her becoming some wealthy astro-physist or some shit.  She wanted to give up all of her work in those programs to… write? 

“An investigative journalist,” She corrects.  “I want to write about the things that matter, and- and I want to be honest, you know? I want people to read my articles and know they’re being handed the truth.  There’s not a lot of that around these days…” She trails off.  

She didn’t have to tell him about the light Spiderman was painted in.  Let’s just say him and Megumi would share the popularity rankings… except no one was raising pitchforks and torches in Megumi’s direction.

“You want to do that ‘cause of me?” Megumi asks, curiosity getting the best of him.

(y/n) nods, trying to bite back her smile but it was still as clear as day.

“I’ll write my first article about you,” She promises, and Megumi’s eyes widen at her sincerity.  “If you’ll let me” 

“Well you’re not getting an interview” He says, only half joking.  (y/n) laughs quietly.

For a moment, he gets that glimpse into her again.  The same one he felt the night of the convenience store robbery.  There was something in her eye he’d never seen before.  Something soft, and real.  It dawns on him that he very well may be the only person she’s told about this dream of hers.  He wants to ask, but it feels wrong, like he’s prying for something.

“I won’t need one,” She tells him.  “Can’t have the people knowing I know you” 

“You don’t know me” Megumi replies, maybe too quickly, but he can’t help it.  

He tilts his head at her as she gazes at him with too much fondness.  Was his reminder that he’s a stranger to her not enough? Sure, she could trust him because he was Spiderman, her safety wasn’t compromised, but that didn’t mean she needed to go confiding in him like this.

Besides, the look she was giving him was making him feel hot, like he was about to break into a sweat.

“I don’t know…” She murmurs thoughtfully.  “I just have this feeling… like I do” 

That has him leaping into panic mode.  That was it, this was done.  If he saw her again while he was in this suit, he was going to turn and swing the other direction.  She couldn’t be saying things like that, she couldn’t be trying to put the pieces together in her mind.  If she were to figure him out, he’d be done for.  She put a lot of trust in him tonight, but could he trust her for even a minute? Megumi wasn’t sure, and he didn’t care to find out.

As far as he was concerned, this was the last time he was going to talk to her.  He was right to avoid her after the first time- it should have been the last time, but it was too late for that now.

“You should go” He says, pushing himself to stand even through grunts of pain.  She looks at him with worry, brows knitted and lips in a frown as she follows him up to her feet.

“Wait,” 

She calls to stop him, despite having nothing else to say to him.  Well, there were a million things she wanted to say to him, but none of that felt appropriate now.  She didn’t really expect him to stand there and hear her out, but he is, and now her mouth is running dry and she’s standing before him frozen.  He radiates impatience, without having to say a single word.

“I… I didn’t thank you,” She stammers out.  It’s unlike her, but it can’t be helped.  She’s always had a little fan-crush on Spiderman since he made his appearance on the news, but after actually being around him that seemed to blossom into a very real crush, even if she’s never seen his face.  She can feel a blush heating up her face when she speaks.  “For the other night, with- with the robbery,” She clarifies, even though she didn’t have to.  “So… thank you” 

Megumi hesitates a moment longer, almost expecting her to say something else.  She looks like she wants to, her face is growing pink and her hands have begun fiddling with the bag of her energy drinks.  But she remains quiet.

He gives her a nod, before handing over the bag of vegetables.  (y/n) laughs under her breath as she takes it.  It’s lost all of it’s cold, merely a room temperature bag of carrots and peas by now.  She’s not sure what she’s supposed to do with it, but she supposes it wouldn’t look good for Spiderman to swing around with it.

“You’re welcome,” He tells her, and it sounds like the most earnest thing he’s had to say to her.  He’s always come across as blunt, something (y/n) was surprised by when they first met, but now it’s a blessing.  She knows that he means it.  “Get home.  Don’t make me have to tell you again, alright?” 

To Megumi, this is a goodbye.  He doesn’t intend to see her again, not like this.  It was… interesting, while it lasted, but it could never actually last.  It needed to be over before things could get any worse… or she could get any closer to figuring out his identity.

“I’ll try my best, Spiderman” 

It’s the same thing she’d left him with before.  She wonders if he catches it.  With that, Megumi shoots a web and swings off into the night, his black suit blending easily into the night sky.

He did. ___

(y/n) was always punctual, to everything, not just class.  But today she found herself in her favorite seat a whole ten minutes early.  She hadn’t meant to show up before the professor, but she just couldn’t contain her energy today.  She’d woken up before her alarm, got showered, dressed and dolled up in record time, ate a small breakfast on her walk to school, and now here she was.  Full of energy as if it wasn’t eight in the morning.  Call it waking up on the right side of the bed…

… or having an interesting night that she couldn’t get out of her head.

Never in her wildest dreams did she think that she’d run into Spiderman again.  The first time was a little embarrassing, she’d come close to being called a victim, but the second time just happened by chance.  It had her heart racing, her face warming, her lips smiling- hell, she was giddy.

He wasn’t anything like she’d thought he’d be, but that just made him all the more enticing to her.  He was blunt, maybe even a little crass for a masked hero, but every interaction she’d had with him drew her in more.  

She’d meant what she said about getting into journalism, she’d even been looking into transferring her credits next year, even if it meant starting over in a completely new program.  Last night, she’d spent her time in bed staring at the ceiling and replaying events in her mind.  When she wasn’t doing that, she was mentally writing her first article about The Spiderman.

The Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman had a nice ring to it, she thought.  Although she had a feeling that he would laugh at the title of Friendly.  Or maybe roll his eyes.  It was hard to tell with the mask.

Before she knew it, she found herself doodling said mask at the corner of a fresh page in her notebook.  She lifted her pen instantly, surprised at just how zoned out she’d become.  There were never doodles in her notebooks.  They were perfectly kept, clean, organized, conside, and without any extra graffiti.

She supposes this doodle can stay, though… she had done a rather good job at drawing it, it would be a pity if it went to waste…

Students begin to file into the class and setting up their laptops and notebooks at the desks surrounding her.  Without any friends in this class there’s no one for her to talk to, or share the story of her night with.

Then again, she’s not sure she wants to tell anyone about her run in with Spiderman.  She hadn’t mentioned it before… although that was because she didn’t need anyone fussing over her being out so late and putting her safety in jeopardy.  This time was different, but still… 

It felt more special if she kept it to herself.

Today, Megumi comes to class twelve minutes late.  She eyes the clock above the doorway just as he ducks in to check the time, but her eyes just as quickly dart back to his figure.  It’s hard not to, with the dark purple shiner standing out against the pale skin of his face.

Her eyes flit around the room, just to see if anyone else noticed the state of their late arrival, but every other student seemed too wrapped up in the lesson, and their professor was too deep in his lecture to give Megumi the slightest of attention.  To everyone else, Megumi was late as usual.  As (y/n) looked at him again, she had an inkling he was the only one who noticed his black eye.

He knew he was going to draw attention, clearly, seeing as his hoodie was up over his unruly hair and his head was down.  But he must’ve sensed (y/n’s) eyes on him, because when he looked up it was directly at her.

He was moving to the back of the class again, probably to take that corner desk with the graphite engravings all over it.  It would be alarming if she were to say anything to him, although she’s not even sure what she would say.  Asking him if he was alright felt weird, and it’s not like she could just shout ‘what the fuck!?’ in the middle of class.

All she could do was stare at him as he took his seat, pull out his notebook, and begin notetaking as usual, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.  She’s completely turned around in her seat now, still watching him, even though she was missing valuable points of the lesson now.  It was hard to pull her attention away- it was weird that no one else seemed to notice him at all.

Where could he have possibly gotten that from? She frowned, despite Megumi ignoring her completely.  She was sure that she would’ve heard about him getting into another fight on campus- last time she was getting texts about it while she was reading all the tweets about it.  Fights were hot news around here, and if Megumi was involved in a second one, she surely couldn’t have missed it.

Right? 

Finally, his eyes catch hers.  She doesn’t turn away from him like she had in the past, she holds his stare, trying to communicate with him in silence.

It’s obvious to him, she’s looking at him with that same worried face she’d worn last night.  She just didn’t know she was worried about the same person.  He raises his eyebrows at her expectantly, as though asking ‘what?’.  As though nothing were out of the ordinary at all.

Her lips curl into a frown, almost a pout, and Megumi has half a mind to flip her off to get her to leave him alone.  Even in silence, even from opposite sides of the room, she seems to find some way to get under his skin.

He doesn’t, though.  Just holds her stare for a minute longer before putting all of his attention into his notetaking.

Megumi told himself that he was done with her, and he was going to be true to his word.  Whether he was in the suit or not, he couldn’t have anything to do with (y/l/n) (y/n).  Being around her just made things feel… complicated.  He couldn’t pinpoint why, but he didn’t want to.  He just wanted the feeling to go away.

She sits turned around in her seat even once he’s clearly begun to ignore her again.  He can feel her eyes on him, see her watching him out of his peripheral vision as if she was going to figure him out through her stare alone.

He was only pretty sure that she couldn’t.

Eventually she turns around in her seat, but the bouncing of her leg is driving him insane even from across the class.  It was like all he could hear- the faint tap of her shoe tapping the linoleum floor.  It was louder than the lecture, than the squeak of the marker on the whiteboard, or the students smacking their gum or tapping their desks.  His ears focused on it for the remainder of class, effectively ruining his note taking ability.

He’s out of his seat once class is over, snatching his things and not bothering to put them in his bag as he bolts for the door.  There’s an itch in his mind telling him to distance himself from (y/n) as fast as he can.  The inkling was right, because he doesn’t make it far in the hall before his name is being called.

“Fushiguro!” 

A few surrounding students glance in her direction, some even snicker in passing.  Megumi wasn’t someone anyone chased after, and certainly never a girl.  If this were still high school, his sister would ooh and ahh at him before skipping away, plotting to tease him for it later.  But this wasn’t high school, and when he turned around to face (y/n), anyone who was watching made themselves scarce fast.

He doesn’t say anything as she approaches him, the strap of her messenger bag held tight in both hands against her chest.  

She opens her mouth, ready to make a smartass comment, but it comes out awkward, not quite right.

“Late to class again cause of a fight, or something?” Even her scoff comes out wrong, sounding like a nervous laugh, strangled and weird.  She shifts her weight between her feet.

Megumi’s silent for a long few seconds.  Every one that passes feels like eternity, and (y/n) deflates a little more under his stare.

“Sure” He shakes his head, not caring what she wanted to assume about him.  If she wanted to think he was that kind of guy, all the better.  Spiderman didn’t get into fights before going to class, so the further he could separate himself from him in her mind, the better.

She frowns at his answer, and it looks like she’s actually upset when she stares directly at his dark eye.  It looks pretty bad, he knows that.  The swelling he could take care of, but the dark purple was another thing.  Right now though, he’s more concerned about the way she seems to worry.

“Seriously, Fuhiguro,” She says quietly, hoping to get through to him.  

She’s not sure what it is that came over her, but something about seeing him walk into class looking like this made her heart lurch in her chest.

“What happened? Who did that?” 

“I fell,” He says dryly, earning a short glare from her.  He sighs, shutting his eyes to mask his annoyance before it got the best of him.  “Sorry I don’t have an interesting story for you- can I go to class now?” 

“Suddenly Mr Punctual?” She snaps back, crossing her arms over her chest.  Megumi huffs, shakes his head, uncaring toward her attitude.

“Whatever” He starts to turn away, but she catches him off guard when she rushes to block his path again.  

Megumi actually startles when she budges in front of him, having to step back to remove her from his personal space.  His wide eyes land on hers, annoyance furrowing his brows as he stares down at her.  She’s defiantly raising her chin towards him, eyes narrowed and everything.

“I’m actually asking, you know,” She tells him.  “Because no one else is walking around with black eyes-” 

“Who cares?” Megumi tries to step out of her way, but she slides in front of him again.  The traffic in the hallway is thinning, they would both be late for their next class if she kept this up.  “Don’t you have a class to be early for?” He hopes that’s enough to get her to back off.

“I don’t care,” She says with enough assurance that Megumi’s actually surprised.  He figured being late to class would throw her into a full breakdown.  “Why are you being such a dick about this?” 

He scoffs, a bitter smile tugging on his lips, only making him wince as it tears the healing wound.

“Why are you?” He fires back.

“Because,” She says it with such certainty, only to fall short with the rest of her reason.  She didn’t know exactly why she felt like someone needed to check in on him, but she knew that she did, and maybe she was the only one who noticed anything was wrong in the first place.  “Because… because it’s the right thing to do” 

Megumi freezes up at that.  All of his muscles go rigid, his jaw tightens, and his eyes flicker over her features rapidly, trying to find any crack in her sincerity.  Was she seriously throwing his words back at him right now? Just because of a black eye? 

Meanwhile (y/n) feels good about her answer.  She’d picked it up from a man she admired so much and it felt right.  There was no real reason, just a feeling.  She had no idea what emotional turmoil she was putting him through right now.

“(y/n), seriously…” Megumi shakes his head at her.  He steps to the side again, but doesn’t leave right away.  Her eyes follow his, waiting for him to continue.  He hates that she looks so genuinely worried about him.  Hates the way it makes his heart race and his fingers tremble.  He has to force words out of his throat.  “Leave me alone” 

Her face falls, but he’s quick to leave once he says it, and this time, she doesn’t chase after him again. ___

In the rest of their classes, she doesn’t try to talk to him again, and does her best not to look his way.  Megumi’s relieved… he thinks.  It’s for the best that everything returns to normal.  Whatever compelled her to reach out to him today was clearly Spiderman’s doing, and he couldn’t have that.  Things couldn’t change.  His feelings of distaste towards her couldn’t change.  He couldn’t start feeling… differently.

With his hood on and his headphones blasting music enough to drown out the noise of the cafe, Megumi tries to catch up on what he’d missed during his first lecture, which was the entirety of his first lecture.  Luckily his professor tended to drone on word for word from the textbook, and he could catch up by reading.

Unluckily, it doesn’t take much for him to get sidetracked from his studies.  He wants to kick himself when something compels him to look up, only to find (y/n) at Fratboy’s table again.

This again, he tells himself, certain he’ll go right back to his textbook.  But he doesn’t move.  His focus stays entirely on the table of jocks, without a shred of discretion, to make things worse.

“Not today” (y/n’s) saying when he tunes into the conversation.  Does this guy always ask her to sit at his table for lunch? Is he that oblivious? Megumi chews on the inside of his cheek.  You’d think he’d try to avoid the idiot jock stereotype a little better.

“C’mon princess, it’s never ‘today’.  Why don’t you just say yes to ‘tomorrow’, hm?” Fratboy leans out of his seat, reaching his hand out towards her.  (y/n) takes a step backwards, but he’s faster, snatching her by the wrist and pulling her towards the table again.

Megumi bristles, watching the situation with the eyes of a hawk.  If looks could kill, this would’ve been enough to get Fratboy’s hand off of her.  Even if he wasn’t hurting you, it was unwanted, that much was clear just by watching her body language.

“I really don’t feel that way about you,” (y/n) snaps, tugging her arm to get herself out of his grasp.  He doesn’t release right away, and Megumi almost gets to his feet, but with a second tug he lets go of her, and (y/n) takes a large step back, keeping both arms close to her body in case he tries to reach for her again.  “Leave me alone” She barks at him, turning to walk away.

If Fratboy says something else to her, Megumi misses it.  His focus is dialed up to one hundred, and as soon as (y/n) separated herself from him, Megumi hadn’t paid a second glance to Fratboy at all.  He wonders how long she’d felt his watchful eyes before she actually turned towards him.  Her eyes skirt around the cafe for a second, trying to find where the prickling feeling of being watched was coming from, and it doesn’t take long for her to find him.  Her bitter expression softens when she spots him, an odd feeling replacing the discomfort of being talked down to and manhandled.

Maybe because as soon as Fratboy follows her line of sight and sees Megumi’s hard stare set in his direction, he turns towards his table again and quickly engages himself with his friends, not bothering (y/n) with even a second glance.  She watches this unfold, before looking back at Megumi again, curiously.  Despite her being left alone now, he’s still staring at her, maybe waiting to see that she’ll get to her table without being bothered again, she’s not sure.

Either way, she grows still under his direct gaze.  She didn’t know how to describe it, but she’s sure she’s never had anyone look at her like that.  With an otherwise neutral expression, there was so much anger behind Megumi’s eyes that if she didn’t know better, she might be just as afraid as Fratboy.  However something told her not to be, something told her that the anger wasn’t directed towards her.  It takes a great deal of effort for her to turn her back on him and head towards her table, but even as she walks away she can’t help but glance back at him again.  He’s already returned to his book by then, but her intrigue doesn’t end there.  She spends the rest of her lunch in near silence while surrounded by her friends, her thoughts too busy for her to keep up with meaningless chit chat and gossip.

That night (y/n) wanders the sidewalk between her apartment and the convenience store up and down until her feet are too tired to carry her anymore.  She walks the familiar path, back and forth, over and over, between the hours of ten and two, her eyes fixed on the sky, peeking down alleyways, her fingers crossed, her heart racing.  Nothing comes of her walk.  She returns home with a sense of disappointment, and a will to try it again. ___

Megumi’s growing tired of this game of hers.  He’s not sure why she insists on doing this every night, it had been four nights now and she had nothing to show for it, so why was she still out there pacing the sidewalk like a maniac? 

It took all of his energy to patrol the streets and keep an eye on one particular sidewalk- one particular girl.  He was one guy.  Did she really think this was safe for either of them? He very well could be missing a crime happening two blocks over because he’s too busy checking in on where she’s chosen to wander.  Did she really think this was enough to capture his attention? 

Well, it had caught his attention, seeing as every other five minutes he was swinging back in this direction to make sure she was still alive down there.

Was she trying to learn a lesson the hard way? Megumi spent his time watching her with bitterness.  She was smarter than this, he knew it, so what the hell was she thinking?

Deep down he’d already confirmed his worries, but he’d hoped that she’d give this stunt up eventually.  He still saw her around school, even if she’d stopped bothering him, he could see the toll that staying up like this was taking on her.  She always had an energy drink or a coffee on her desk, and Megumi doesn’t think he’s ever seen her look so disheveled.  It had him wondering if this was starting to impact her grades, too.

This is why he shouldn’t have spoken with her the last time.  He should’ve swung off in the opposite direction.  Because now she was on his mind, she had him worrying, swinging all around the block she was pacing while trying to keep an eye on the rest of the city- it was exhausting for him, too.

He shouldn’t be sitting here worrying about her sleep, or her grades.  His bottom line should be safety.  And she was safe.  So why couldn’t he just leave her be? 

With a groan he stops his swinging to land on one of the surrounding buildings.  He rips his mask off his head, groaning through his irritation before raking his hands through his already messy hair.  She was driving him crazy, and he was sure that she knew it too.  This little back and forth walk of hers, she was taunting him with it.  

Throwing himself down to sit on the edge of the building, Megumi peers over his knees to check on her yet again.  She’s slowed her pace, which hopefully means she’s getting tired and will return to her apartment soon.

With a huff, he props his head in his hand, wondering what he was going to do about this.  It wasn’t as easy to make her hate Spiderman as it was to make her hate Megumi.  Hell, it might not be a bad idea to just reveal his identity to her, she’d probably want to forget about Spiderman all together, then.

Of course, that was a stupid idea, but Megumi was fresh out of good ones.

When he lifts his head again, compelled by some invisible force to check just one more time that she was alright, he’d looked just in time.  He barely had the time to pull his mask back on his head before he was leaping off the building and swinging down towards her, half flying and half falling through the air as fast as he could to get to her before whatever figure lurking around the corner could.

Shit, shit, shit.

It happens so fast, she’s lucky she didn’t pee herself from the whole thing.  She’d just reached the end of her pace, about to turn around and wander the other direction when she finally saw a very unsettling figure come around the corner.  With disheveled clothing and a stagger that sent up warning flags of intoxication, (y/n) instantly stopped in her tracks, and started to shuffle backwards.

He never said a word to her, but from looks alone she got the feeling of what he was thinking.  Nothing good.

However before she could get herself to start running, someone else came into view.

There’s barely a second for her to show her relief when Spiderman shows up, seemingly out of nowhere.  She’s not sure his feet even touched the ground before he had an arm around her and was swinging off again.  He doesn’t have to tell her to hold on, she just clings, with all her might, she winds her arms around his neck and keeps her knees locked on either side of his hips.  

The sensation of swinging through the air is not the one she always dreamed of enjoying- the wind is harsh, whipping her hair around all directions and snapping against her face unpleasantly.  Even with her face buried against her savior’s chest, the cold air nips at her.

Even once he’s clearly landed, it takes some prompting for her to let go of him, and open her eyes.

When she does, she barely gets to open her mouth before he’s laying into her, and she should’ve seen it coming, but she can’t help but deflate.

“What the hell were you thinking!?” 

He’s yelling, and at first she wonders if he’s worried about people seeing, but a quick glance at her surroundings and she realizes they’re on the roof of a building.  No one would be hearing them here.

“Were you seriously trying to get yourself into trouble? Because you were about this close to it,” He raises his pinched fingers for emphasis, but gives her no time to answer.  “You better not have done something so stupid just cause of me-” 

“I didn’t- well- well I didn’t necessarily” (y/n) tries to explain, but the words just aren’t coming as fast as her mouth is moving and she’s left gaping at him.  

Megumi was not putting up with it.  What did he have to do to get it through her head? 

“I can’t be spending my nights keeping an eye on just you because you feel like putting yourself in harm’s way for a fucking rush,” He snaps.  “You pull shit like that again (y/n) and I’m not going to be there next time, you understand?” 

Her mouth shuts.  She nods her head.

“Jesus Christ,” Megumi puts his hands to his head, turning and walking off as if they weren’t stranded on top of a building.

Well, (y/n) was stranded.  Spiderman had the means of getting himself anywhere.

She wants to follow him, but instinct tells her to stay put while he paces and continues to scold her.

“You’re goddamn lucky I was there, you know that?” He’s not even looking at her, but she nods her head again anyways.  She knows.  “I should really go back there and beat the shit out of that guy” He starts to mutter to himself, going on incoherently, and (y/n’s) blood starts to run cold.

“He- I mean, he didn’t do anything” She mumbles, her voice hardly above a whisper, but he seems to hear her just fine, stopping in his tracks and turning his head towards her.

“Are you serious?” 

Her mouth opens and closes a few times before any words come out.

“It’s not like he… he said anything, or did anything to me” She clarifies.  Spiderman’s mask is incapable of expression, but she had a feeling the man behind it was glaring at her.  She could feel that familiar prickle of a harsh stare.

It’s silent for a long moment before he finally turns completely towards her and walks back in her direction.  She keeps her feet firmly planted, willing herself not to back away or cower, but having him come stand so close to her had her throat closing up.  He towered over her so much she had to lean her head back to look up at his mask.  If he was going to yell, she was bound to flinch.

“You have no idea what he was capable of doing,” He doesn’t yell.  In fact his voice is so eerily low she almost shivers.  “If you want to gamble your life on some drunken lowlife’s imagination, that’s your business,” He adds, and she blinks away the tears welling up in her eyes as the gravity of the situation really sunk in with his words.  “But at least have the decency to do it far away from me.  Because if it were up to me I’d go back there and kill that guy right now” 

She blinks a few more times, but still, a tear slips down her cheek.

“I-I’m sorry,” She whispers shakily, the lump in her throat growing hotter when she tries to speak.  “I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to- I-” 

Megumi sighs as more tears begin to fall from her eyes.  Her brain was playing catchup and it was clear she was too tired to handle any of this right now.

“It’s alright,” He says, but it’s obviously not enough to calm her down, so against his better judgment, he tries his hand at comforting her.  “Hey, c’mon, you’re alright,” Reaching out to her, he hesitates before placing his hands on either side of he face, wiping her tears away on the soft material of gloves.  “Breathe,” He instructs quietly, and waits as her shudders slowly morph into slow, heavy breaths.  “There you go, that’s it.  You’re alright,” He tries to remind her that where she is now, she’s safe.  “You’re here” 

It takes a few more deep breaths, but eventually he steers her clear of a full blown panic attack, and her heartbeat returns to a normal pace.

With one last deep breath, (y/n) closes her eyes on her exhale, and Megumi finally drops his hands from her head, sure that she isn't going to start back up again.

“I have trouble sleeping,” She tells him quietly, her eyes focused on the ground.  “It started in high school, I uh… I’m kind of a nerd, I guess,” She admits.  “My parents really cared about my grades and success and I guess I just… went with it.  Started staying up through the night to study and get ahead the rest of my class and… never dropped the habit” 

Megumi softens, although she’d never know it.

“That doesn’t sound so healthy,” He says quietly, not knowing what else to say.  She scoffs, smiles bitterly, shakes her head back at him.  “We should get you back home, yeah?” 

Realizing what he meant, she looks back at him with a wince, and he can’t help the small chuckle at her reaction.

“It’ll be alright.  I’ll take it easy, promise” He says, crossing his finger over his chest for emphasis.

“What, like I’m gonna find some way to sue Spiderman?” She mutters back.

He holds his arms out to her, carefully grabbing her by the forearms to loop them around his neck.

“Just hold on and keep your head down, it’ll be over before you know it” 

Her face heats up when his arm comes around her back and he presses her even closer.  She can’t stop her squeak of surprise before it comes out, and it must startle him, because he’s quick to ask her if she’s okay.

“Yeah I- I’m fine” She stammers back, feeling her blush grow hotter.

Megumi takes off without a warning, thinking it’ll be easier to rip it off like a bandaid than to count down before a jump.  All of her limbs tighten around him, forgetting about modesty as soon as they’re in the air.  She presses her face as far into his shoulder as she can to keep herself blinded from the surrounding area.  Until now, she wouldn’t have said she was afraid of heights.

She’s at least able to give him her address, a shaky whisper in his ear before she’s buried into his shoulder again.

When he lands on her fire escape, he helps her to her feet, trying not to chuckle at how wobbly she is.

“Don’t get sick on the suit, you have no idea how much of a pain it is to dry clean this thing” He tries to lighten the mood, and is surprised that he’s successful in doing so, earning a small laugh from her.

“You say that to all the girls you swing home, Spidey?” 

“Not a fan of the nickname.  Or the insinuation” He’s back to his usual dry self in no time.

“Well you have to have a nickname, we’re friends now, aren’t we?” 

He’s supposed to leave now.  He should leave now.  This was exactly what he was afraid of happening, her getting attached.  That burden was only on her of course, there wasn’t a chance Megumi was going to get drawn in when it comes to her, not when he knew the consequences.

“Spideman already is a nickname” He mutters like it’s obvious.  

(y/n) let’s out a breathless laugh, and tosses her messy windswept hair behind her shoulders.  

Megumi hasn’t left yet, why isn’t he leaving? 

“Well, then there must be some other name I could call you..?” She trails off with her question, stepping forward and eyeing him curiously.  

Megumi’s frozen.  Was she really suggesting he reveal himself to her? Obviously he couldn’t do that…

“I’d just like to thank you, again,” She says, a small smile on her lips as she takes another step forward.  

If he’s not leaving, Megumi knows he most definitely needed to step away from her before she could press any closer.  Carrying her to swing her home was one thing, that was closeness out of necessity, but this- this was too much, and he was freezing up.

“And, um, properly,” She adds in a soft murmur, her eyes flickering over his mask.  

He briefly wonders what she’s looking for, but it’s quickly answered when she reaches up towards him, her fingers brushing the space between his mask and the rest of the suit.  It’s fitted so well it’s nearly impossible for someone to find the disconnect between the two- unless of course you’re standing directly in front of him, which she was.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word, but the gulp he swallows is visible to her with how close she is.  The tips of her fingers barely slip under the material of his mask, they graze his skin in a touch featherlight yet searing hot.

Without any indication from him that she should stop, curiosity gets the best of her and she carefully begins to slide the mask upwards, her eyes excitedly watching the expanse of his now exposed neck.  Almost as pale as the moonlight, she drank up the sight of his skin as if it was a completely new sight to her.

When she gets to his chin, his hand snatches her wrist.  It’s a quick action, but surprisingly gentle.  He barely grips her arm, his touch merely a warning.

“You shouldn’t” He says, the lump in his bobbing throat preventing him from saying anything more.

She looks up into the expanse of white that made for the compelling eyes of the mask.  Wondering if she was making proper eye contact with him, she shakes her head reassuringly.

“I won’t go too much further,” She murmurs.  Followed by an even softer, “Promise” 

His better judgment clean out the window, Megumi lets go of her hand, and allows her to proceed.

Using both hands now, she bunched up the end of the material until she was able to gather it at his nose where it would stay put, leaving everything from his neck to the tip of his nose on display for her.

She smiles at him, almost knowingly, and it makes him nervous.  Everything about this makes him nervous, this cold sweat she was putting him through was torture.  Even more so when her fingers begin to softly trace over the exposed parts of his skin.

“I knew you were handsome” She whispers shyly, but her eyes glimmer with excitement.

Megumi chuckles, the corners of his lips barely quirking into a smile, prompting her to hover the pad of her thumb over them as well.  She doesn’t quite touch his lips, too cautious of the healing cut over the bottom one.

“How could you know such a thing?” He mumbles, keeping his voice low out of worry that she’d recognize it without the muffle of his mask.

“I don’t know,” She giggles softly.  “Your voice, maybe.  And you’re tall” 

“I don’t think you have very good standards” Megumi murmurs.

“I think it’s completely fair for a girl to have a little crush on the man who saved her,” She replies, face warming up from such a confession.  To her delight, it gets another smile out of him.  “Who knew you smiled so much under there?” She says before she could think twice about it.  “I was starting to think you were that stoic, mysterious type” 

“I could be” He mumbles, and he finds himself taking her hand before she could finally touch her fingers to his lips.  

She’s more than enticed to, with how pink and alluring they were, she’d been dying to kiss them since she’d lifted his mask, and hoped he’d give her the chance, seeing as he hadn’t tried to cover the bottom half of his face just yet.

She’s never looked at him like this before.  And to be fair, Megumi had never looked at her like this either.  He’d had no idea how pretty she was, like this, with her eyes half lidded and half focused, staring intently at his lips, giving away all of her thoughts without having to voice them.  Her long lashes seemed to grow heavier with every slow blink.  She’s hardly looking up at him now, all of her attention on just one thing, and Megumi was starting to run out of reasons why he shouldn’t indulge her.

The hand that he’s not keeping away from him reaches out again, fingers skimming his jaw before curling around it with the softest touch.  She doesn’t pull him with much force, but Megumi finds himself following her movements as she guides him down, closer to her height.

It wasn’t right to kiss her.  It was actually the exact opposite of what he’d been trying to do here.  How the hell did he wind up in this situation? 

“Thank you, Spiderman” She whispers, her lips ghosting over his with every syllable.

Ah, fuck it.

His hand releases hers only to reach for the back of her head and pull her in the rest of the way, his lips capturing hers passionately.  Not expecting him to make the first move, she’s delayed in reacting, her hands sliding around the back of his neck and kissing him back with just as much fervor.

So lost in the kiss and how softly his lips move over hers, she almost forgets about the minor detail that his identity is still a secret to her, but even if it crosses her mind, she doesn’t care.

Her fingers press into the small strip of skin exposed at the nape of his neck, and while she longs to dig them under the back of his mask and lift it off of his head, it's not out of a desire to expose his identity.  It’s purely because she’d love to run her hands through his hair, followed by a curiosity of what that would feel like.

Was his hair long? Soft? Coarse? Was it shaggy? Was it shaved? The mystery of it all had her mind buzzing and her feet pushing her to the tips of her toes to meet his lips in one last kiss before he could pull away.

The final kiss is softer than the rest, so gentle and slow, it was the perfect first, and last, kiss.

Not that she could tell the difference, but Megumi had a hard time opening his eyes again when he pulled away.  He didn’t move far, his hand still cupped around the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hair.  A part of him hoped they’d be so knotted together that they wouldn’t ever have to leave this moment.

When he does find the courage to look at her, he’s mentally kicking himself.

Megumi’s sure that the reason the sky was so dull tonight was because all the stars were trapped in her eyes, now being gifted to him under her precious gaze.  Her lips curled into a slightly swollen smile, her cheeks pink with color despite the sun being nowhere in sight, it was perfect, she was perfect, and he can’t believe he’s spent so long missing out on it.

Shit, shit, shit.

“You…” He starts, but he doesn’t know where he’s going.  His head is in the clouds, beyond the clouds, he was completely unreachable.  (y/n) giggles softly at how quickly he’d become tongue tied.  “You should pursue the journalist thing, alright?” 

Brows slightly drawn together from the seemingly random comment, she nods back at him in a small motion.

“You think?” She murmurs back, her hand squeezing his.  It sends a wave of warmth through his arm and into his chest, and Megumi has to fight the urge to frown, because his mouth was still exposed.

Pulling his hand from hers, he touches it gently to her jaw, then her cheek.  She leans into his touch, welcoming it completely.  Her smile only grows upon feeling the warmth of his palm through his glove.

“I have a feeling that you’d succeed at anything you put your mind to,” He says, and it’s sort of cheesy, but it’s the absolute truth.  Her lips part in surprise at the sudden seriousness in his tone, but she doesn’t say anything, just lets his words linger on her mind.  “No more middle of the night walks, though, alright?” He says, shaking her head just a tiny bit to make sure it would get through her thick skull.  “If you can’t sleep, just put something on tv, like a normal person” 

Her hand raises to cover the back of his, cradling it against her face sweetly.  Megumi thinks the sight will be ingrained in his memory for the rest of time.

“Then how will I see you again?” She says, only half teasing.  Her eyes are wide and hopeful, and Megumi stalls by brushing his thumb over her cheekbone a few times.

“I’ll be around” He murmurs, nodding his head through his uncertainty.  Was it a good idea to see her again? 

(y/n) nods back at him, before letting his hand go and reaching for the bunched up material of his mask, pulling it back over his face.

It was hardly a good idea to see her this time, and she’d actually needed his help.  Look where that had lead him.

“I hope so,” She mumbles, seemingly just as uncertain as he was.

He finally drops his hand from her head, fingers carefully detangling themselves from her hair so as not to irritate her head, or maybe he just needed to linger near her a little longer.

Who was he kidding.  He was going to find himself in this position sooner or later, wasn’t he?

“I guess… you know where to find me,” She says, wrapping her arms around herself, even though it was a nice night with no breeze.  She squeezes herself for comfort.

When did it start, exactly? Was it the little secrets she confided in? Or her worry when he’d shown up to class a few days ago with a black eye? Megumi struggled to pinpoint when things took a turn down the path of no return.

“If you change your mind on that interview…” She adds with a soft smile.  She hopes he’s smiling back at her.  

He is.

“I’ll know where to find you,” He repeats, hoisting himself onto the railing of her fire escape, and standing up on the thin bar with complete balance.  He made it look easy.  “Goodnight, (y/n)” 

“Goodnight, Spiderman” 

He took off then, completely silent as he leapt from the escape and swung off, nearly invisible in the darkness.

(y/n) couldn’t help but sit outside her window a little longer, replaying the events of her night yet again, and wondering just how he figured out her name. ___

Megumi had resigned to sitting in the back of all of his classes for the rest of the year.

It’s not a huge deal, he can learn fine from any seat in the class, and as he realizes this he comes to realize that there was never really a good reason why he chose to sit near (y/n) before.  All of his complaints that she was an obnoxious bother had dissolved into… nothing.  He chose to sit near her every day.  Whether it was right behind her or two seats away, he couldn’t ignore the fact that he always chose to be near.

And now that he wasn’t, it was driving him crazy.  He longed to be closer, to sit behind her again, maybe even right next to her.  Had he really been so dense all this time? 

Though their interactions had been swindling since he’d put more focus into Spiderman than he had in school, (y/n) hadn’t spoken a word to him since their argument in the hall, and that was almost two weeks ago now.  

The last thing she’d said to him, she’d said to Spiderman, not Megumi.  Still, he tries to keep the soft, precious way she’d bid him goodnight in his memory.  He didn’t want to forget a single moment of the last time he’d spoken with her, not the things she said, not the way she touched his skin so delicately, and certainly not the kiss.

Megumi leans his chin into his hand now, fingers covering his mouth nonchalantly.  However when he presses the pads of his fingertips against his lips, it’s not the same.

They caught eyes here and there, but that wasn’t the same either.  He’d come into class late, she’d cast him a short glance, but it was always quickly returned to the front of the room.  Not so much as a taunting glare was directed his way.  It was safe to say he’d finally gotten her off his back… and he’s never felt like such an idiot.

It was worse outside of classes.

He’d spend his nights swinging around town, lazing through patrol, busting perps when they came around, but crime was dwindling by the day, it seemed.  He liked to think that Spiderman was making a difference, but he’d been a little rough around the edges lately, and he knew deep down his reputation was morphing into a ruthless fighter.  

Spiderman wasn’t just keeping peace, he was keeping criminals in fear.  Not that Megumi was perturbed by this- for one, he’d long held that reputation already, so living with it as Spiderman felt no different.  Secondly, the quiet nights were comforting.

The free time was starting to become a problem, though.  He couldn’t stop himself from trying to visit her.  He’d be aimlessly swinging and the next thing he knew he was on her block, near her building, almost approaching the very fire escape at her window where they’d last seen each other.  It’s difficult to make himself turn around and swing the other way, especially on the clear nights when he can see her light is on, and he knows she’s awake.

She’d kept her promise, it seemed.  He’d swing by often enough to notice the flicker of a tv screen, just close enough to know she was home and safe, but he tried not to linger too long.  He didn’t want her seeing him checking in, and he definitely didn’t like the idea of sitting outside her window like a creep.

More than that, he feared that she’d be delighted to see him again.

It had been a week since that night on her fire escape- with the rescue, the kiss- and Megumi really tried to keep his distance.  He indulged himself in passing by her window more times than he could count, but he was careful to keep himself hidden, so she would have no idea his watchful eye was never too far.  If he kept this up, he hoped that she would forget about it altogether.  That’s what would be for the best.

Sitting across the street perched on the roof of a building like it was the most natural place in the world to sit, Megumi dropped his chin in his hand as he stared longingly at the only lit up window in the apartment building across the street.  At this point, he’d probably spent more time looking at that window than he had in his own home.

He didn’t want to forget about what happened.  He didn’t want her to forget about what happened.

His mask crumpled in his other hand, he tore his gaze away from the window to stare down at it, cursing it mentally for giving him everything only to ruin it.

It wasn’t Spiderman’s fault, though.  Megumi was just as much responsible for the rift he’d put between himself and (y/n), long before that damned spider bite.  He’d always pushed her off, kept her at arm’s length or further, if he could help it.  He was the one stubborn enough to never let anyone in.  He was the one that pushed her into treating him with the same insufferable attitude he’d directed at her, way back then.  So much could change within a year, he supposed that was true for everyone, but he couldn’t ward off the self pity that came over him, thinking he’d surely changed too much within a year.

At the feeling of the first raindrop hitting his exposed head, he sighed, running a hand through his hair to dry the following drops of water before pulling his mask over his head again.  Of course it’s going to start raining on him when he’s sitting here feeling bad about himself.

He doesn’t intend to get any closer to her building, being right across the street already felt too close, but with the extra cover of the rain starting to pick up, Megumi thought maybe tonight he could get away with being just a little closer.  Just close enough to make sure she was okay in there.  He might not be able to do anything about her sleepless nights… but it couldn’t hurt to check, right? He would leave as soon as he was sure, and then he would try not to return.

He’s not stupid enough to climb directly onto her fire escape- but then again his being here was pretty stupid already so what was one more idiot move? Instead Megumi perches himself on the one above it, opting to hang over the bottom of it just enough that he could peek through the window.

To his surprise, even though her tv is on along with the rest of the lights in her room, (y/n) is nowhere in sight.  He doesn’t think much of this at first, she very well could be in the bathroom, or the kitchen.  But just as he tries to rationalize her disappearance, the hair on the back of his neck stands up, and in the next second her window was sliding open.

“Boo!” 

Her whisper yell as she leans out the window and towards his dangling head is comparable to that of a child’s.  Completely un-scary, and followed by a string of delighted giggles.

Megumi freezes, and he would’ve fallen right off the fire escape if his reflexes didn’t have him shooting out a web of safety to hang by.  He’s still upside down, swinging in front of her, but (y/n) leans out further to steady his movement by his shoulders.

“Scared ya good, huh?” She muses.  Her grin was a sight for sore eyes.  “Serves you right, stalking a girl like that” 

“I wouldn’t call it stalking” 

“What would you call it then?” 

Her hands are still pressed against his shoulders.  Megumi’s not sure if it’s to keep him from swinging, or if she was keeping her own balance as she leaned the upper half of her body out her window.

“... is it a crime to visit people?” 

“Usually when they’re trying to creep in through a window” She quips back.  Her smile only seems to brighten the longer she looks at him- even if she did sort of just call him a creep.

“For the record I wasn’t trying to get in” He corrects, his own smile beginning to grow under his mask.  He couldn’t deny how good it felt to see her like this again, to be able to talk to her, even just look at her.

“Just spy from the outside?” 

“I don’t like the narrative you’re spinning,” Megumi scoffs.  “What happened to honest journalism, hm?” 

She giggles at that.  The corners of her eyes crinkle as she gazes at him fondly.  He liked this side of her banter- the playful side.  It was fun.

“So you think you can honestly say you missed me, Spidey?” She asks in a voice made of pure sugar.  It rots his teeth, melts his insides, and makes all his senses go fuzzy.

“I thought we weren’t going the nickname route” He deadpans, avoiding the question.

With her smile pursing to the corner of her lips, something about her demeanor changed then.

“It’s only fair, since you know my name,” Her tone is just as light, but her eyes are calculating, and Megumi knows he’s slipped up.  And again just now, by not having a quick enough response.  “And I’m certain I didn’t give it to you… so… how do you explain that one?”

“Did you think I wasn’t going to have an interest in figuring that out?” Megumi chuckles, hoping he could play it off.

(y/n) presses further out her window, far enough now that the rain starts to dampen her hair, but she appears to pay it no mind.

“I don’t like it when you’re cryptic, Spidey” She huffs.

Again, Megumi laughs.

“It sort of comes with the whole anonymity thing” He answers.

She tilts her head at him, as if she could study him even with the mask on.  Megumi couldn’t deny the paralyzing effect it had on him.

“Why does it feel like you’re a stranger to me… but I’m not one to you?” She asks him slowly, as though still debating on asking him at all.  “Why does it feel like you know me?” 

“You do talk a lot” 

Megumi’s grasping at straws now, but at least that gets a small laugh out of her.  He hopes it’s enough of a distraction, hopes that she lets things go back to the way they were.  He didn’t need her trying to put together the puzzle that was Spiderman, it couldn’t lead to anything good.

“You know what I mean,” She murmurs.  She raises a hand off of his shoulder, reaching for the hem of his mask in a way that wasn’t supposed to feel familiar to him.  “You think you’d ever tell me?” She asks as her fingers toy with the material’s edge.

“Who I am?” Megumi asks dumbly.  Besides the raindrops slowly running down her face, there’s no change in her expression.  There’s a glimmer of hope in her eye as her fingers slip under the mask, not quite lifting it yet, but holding it with the clear intention to do so.

The silence lingers until she has her answer, and Megumi thinks this might be the damning moment that he’s been trying to brace himself for.  She’ll probably rip his mask right off, and then who knows how she’d react upon seeing it was him all this time.  He knew he was faster than her, he could easily swing away before she could have the chance.

A nervous, breathless laugh breaks tension, and she gently peels the mask towards his chin.

“I guess I’ll just have to figure it out on my own, then” She muses playfully.

“An investigative journalist now, are we?” Megumi asks, but there’s no time for further banter when she’s got his mask bunched up at his nose and that’s all the further it needs to go before he’s meeting her lips in a wet kiss.

The rain was not a welcomed experience, it had (y/n) shivering and it was irritating Megumi’s now exposed nose.  It made their kiss slippery and messy, and with him still being upside down it didn’t exactly make things any easier.

Neither of them cared.

All of (y/n’s) interests lied in kissing him and then kissing him again- she couldn’t help it, even if he outright refused to tell her his name, he kissed her like a dream.

Shaky, wet palms steadied on either side of his face, trying to pull him even closer.  He follows her direction as best he can, but with his hands still occupied with the web to keep him from crashing onto her fire escape, Megumi’s left with his neck craned as far forward as he could push.  If he hadn’t held onto the last scrap of his sanity he would’ve dropped down from the railing and crawled right through her window.

He was getting carried away.

“(y)- (y/n)-” Her name is whispered soft and broken into her lips, and she knows this is his way of ending whatever this is, but she can’t help but leave him with one last lingering kiss.  He doesn’t push her away, doesn’t even go still against her kiss.  He waits, all too patiently, until she has to lean back and catch her breath.

“You’re going to leave,” She says softly.  It’s not a question, she already knows.  He might think that he’s difficult to read, with his monotone comments and the mask that’s easy to hide behind, but he wasn’t as great of a mystery as he might think.

He frowns.  It looks a little awkward upside down.  (y/n) gives him a sad smile and carefully maneuvers his mask back into place.  It doesn’t take long before she misses the small glimpse of his face that she was allowed to see.

“Why do I get the feeling that I’m not going to see you again?” She sighs.

The raindrops on her face could easily be mistaken for tears.  Megumi slides his hand out of her hair to dry her face, and he can’t keep away the memory of him drying her actual tears.

“You will,” He assures her, but the nagging feeling doesn’t quite go away.  “You just… might not know it” 

A lump forms in Megumi’s throat when he says it, and it only grows when her eyes light up with intrigue.

“Is that a hint, Spiderman?” She muses, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Get some sleep” He encourages, already lifting himself onto the fire escape of her upstairs neighbor.  Disobediently, she pushes herself further out her window to follow his movements. 

“I will see you again?” She asks as she looks up at him, not minding the pelting of raindrops soaking through her clothes and hair.

Against his better judgment- as things always seem to be when it comes to her- Megumi nods his head.  He doesn’t say a word before swinging away, knowing he’d overstayed his welcome by a longshot.  Even without looking back, he can feel (y/n’s) eyes on him as she watches from her window.

And when he thinks about it, he can still feel her lips against his. ___

(y/n’s) not sure of the last time she walked into her 8am class and saw Megumi had gotten there before her.  It stops her in her tracks, still in the doorway, staring at the boy hunched over his desk in the back of the class scribbling in his notebook at an alarming rate.

Wait… was he cram studying for their test today? 

She scoffs, and he lifts his head to give her a bored glare.  Of course he’d noticed her when she’d come in- he’d heard her coming from the hallway- but he wasn’t about to give her the reaction she wanted.

And it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his expression hardened and neutral when it came to her, so Megumi had been trying to avoid looking at her completely.

Keyword, trying.

“Don’t tell me you actually didn’t study” She says, a knowing little grin tugging at the corners of her lips as she looks him up and down.

Megumi holds his blank stare for as much longer as he’s capable of before turning his attention back to his notebook, pen scrawling loudly yet again.  (y/n’s) brows raise at the intensity at which he was writing, shocked that her assumptions seemed to be proven correct.

“Wow” She mumbles to herself, before walking straight to the back of the class.  

Megumi tries to ignore her, she probably just wanted to click her tongue at him in disapproval before she’d go pick out her favorite seat and ignore him for the rest of the period.  But she’s approaching so quickly and suddenly she’s leaning over his desk and he has half a mind to cover his work, as if there was any kind of damning evidence there.

She eyes the messy notes before glancing up at him, his gaze already set on her.  For a moment it pins her in place, has her freezing up just as she had a moment ago, but the feeling melts before she could question the severity in his eyes.

“If you want to borrow my notes, you’ll have to ask” He tells her, his voice unwavering and devoid of any emotion.  She rolls her eyes at the typical behavior.

“Unlike you, I cared enough to study last night” She replies, and she’s just about to turn on her heel when the unexpected happens, and Megumi actually has a response.

“That so?” 

His change in tone irks her, and she can’t put her finger on why.  But the tilt of intrigue matched with the way he smirks has her heating up.

Out of irritation, of course.

“Duh,” Her arms cross over her chest defensively.  “I’ve been studying all week” 

Even as Megumi resumes his note taking, his stupid smirk is still plastered on his face.  If she was more inclined to violence, (y/n) would’ve wanted to smack it right off.

“I’m sure you have” He mumbles, watching out of his peripheral vision as her arms shoot down to her sides, hands balled into fists as she gasps and gapes at him.  Clearly, she took offense to the comment, and he had to bite back the chuckle at it.

“What are you trying to say?” She snaps at him, but she’s not nearly as intimidating as she wants to be.

“Didn’t really say anything,” He replies, tone holding no emotion again.  “You just started freaking out” 

“I’m not freaking out,” Her eyes narrowed.  “God, why do you have to be so-” 

Before she can finish he looks up at her again, and again it’s like he’s stunned her with the way his gaze seems to pierce right through her.  He looks pleased with himself, too, as if he was just dying to hear what she was going to come up with.

Peculiarly enough, her throat goes dry, and she can’t quite remember how she was going to finish that sentence.  Megumi must figure her out, too, because his smirk almost resembles a smile now, and her heated skin was starting to become unbearable.

“So…?” Megumi repeats curiously, hoping to egg her into finishing her thought.

(y/n) huffs, shaking her head in her agitated defeat before turning around and marching towards her usual seat.

Megumi returns to his work with a smile on his face.  Her preference for Spiderman might’ve been clear as day, but there was something satisfying about knowing one way or another, he had a knack for getting her worked up.z

___

Despite her hopes reaching impossible heights, (y/n) hadn’t gotten another visit from Spiderman in quite some time.  It had been about two weeks now, and she hadn’t noticed even a shadow outside her bedroom window.

She gives him the benefit of the doubt, because for some reason unknown to her she’d grown to care for him enough to make every excuse necessary.  He was doing important work out there, she’d tell herself while sitting at her window, longing eyes looking for any sign of life out in the sleeping city.  It wasn’t like he had all the time in the world to spend on her.

Or while wandering the halls from class to class, while her eyes were trying to catch every stranger that walked passed, she hoped to find some flicker of familiarity in anyone.  It might’ve been naive of her to think he could be as close to her as being another student at her school, but she couldn’t help herself.  She couldn’t stop the ‘what ifs’ from plaguing her mind.  She was so full of hope it was rotting her from the inside out.

Her focus was never quite all there.  In class she’d mindlessly take notes, her attention shifting about the room, trying to catch the feeling of being watched, but she always came up empty handed.  There were no eyes on her, she concluded after days of paranoid searching.  It was just a placebo effect her mind had come up with in her hoping to find him.

As if she was just going to happen upon him as easily as looking at him and knowing.

It was the same even around her friends.  The usual group she’d sit with at lunch had noticed her change in demeanor, but not knowing how to bring it up to her they tended to continue on conversing as if she wasn’t actively ignoring them as she searched the cafe.

“What are you looking for?” One of them had asked one day, a slight wince on their face when she startled and turned towards them again, as if she’d completely forgotten where she was.

“Oh, nothing,” Her reply was less than convincing.  “Just spacing, I guess” 

Maybe that part was sort of true, but it wasn’t a good enough excuse for anyone to take her seriously anyways.  So she was left alone to barely pick at her lunch and scan the cafe with an undeniable skip in her heartbeat.

(y/n) was starting to think she was going crazy, but it was like an itch she couldn’t scratch.  She just had a feeling that she was close, and to stop her from chasing that feeling would take a force her lunchtime friends weren’t able to muster up.

Her grades had yet to be affected, but her uptick in strange behavior wasn’t going unnoticed.  Her participation had dipped dramatically, some of her classes actually dragging on in near silence as no other students filled the gaps of her incessant questions and comments.  It was clear to her professors and peers that behind her wandering eyes was a void of class-related thoughts.  Whatever was occupying her every passing minute, had nothing to do with her studies.  But she maintained her perfect grade point average so effortlessly it was difficult to reprimand her for her lack of attention in each class.

Megumi had watched from the background as her sanity seemed to slip further and further.  At first, it had been a bit amusing.  He’d noticed right away, the way her eyes caught every guy walking into class, the way she seemed to pick each one apart with only her eyes.  She must have been gauging whether or not she deemed every one of them capable of being Spiderman.  It was hard not to smile to himself when she’d ultimately look away from each one, unconvinced.  

One was too short, the next too tan, another just didn’t have the right vibe, Megumi wished he could read her thoughts as she scrutinized each passerby in silence.  He was never too far from her, so it was easy to watch the hope radiating off of her as she tried to find the source of the eyes on her.  Luckily for Megumi’s rapid senses, he was always facing another direction when her gaze flickered his way.  Not that she ever quite looked at him the way she looked at the others.  He could feel her eyes sweeping right past him, pausing on a boy sitting just a few seats to his left instead.  But yet again she was facing away and trying to come up with someone else.

Megumi wondered why it was that she felt so sure Spiderman was in this very school with her.  Tokyo was a heavily populated place, and he knew she was smarter than to assume he was this close to her all this time.

(Of course… he was… but how could she have any idea of that?) 

With every passing day she seemed a little more dazed.  Which was an interesting look on a know-it-all like her.  Her interest in the world around her took a nosedive, and it was obvious to a watcher like Megumi.  She looked like a gray spot surrounded by the bright yellow of her lunch table.  She stuck out like a sore thumb in every class, finally having learned to pipe down and retreat in on herself.  She didn’t look depressed, it was just clear as day that her interests were on anything but what was going on around her.

Again, he’s entertained by this for some time.  There’s a swell of pride and something warm and new in his chest whenever he sees her so openly looking for him.  Hopeful eyes scanning every crowd, every class, only to never properly focus on him.  He should feel relief that he doesn’t seem to be even a passing possibility to her.  Instead, all he feels is a few skips in his heartbeat knowing she thought he was someone worth searching for.

Well, Spiderman was someone worth searching for, at least.

But the entertainment drains fast when her preoccupied mind lands her crashing into someone in the cafe.  A freezing cold iced coffee is dumped all over the front of her pretty blouse, ruining it instantaneously.  Megumi happens to look up just as the incident takes place, the hair on the back of his neck standing up on alert and his eyes finding her in the crowd in a moment’s notice, just in time to watch her crash.

And just as she steps away from the person she’s crashed into, her focus shifted to her soaked and stained shirt, an unsettled feeling crawls over Megumi’s skin as he notices who it was she just so happened to run into.

The frat boy that had been bugging her not too long ago.  The annoying guy, yeah, that one.  Megumi was pretty damn sure this run in wasn’t as accidental as it looked, but he stayed seated at his empty table, with faux attention on the book in his hand.

His eyes hadn’t returned to the page since his little sixth sense had drawn them towards the whole situation.  It’s upsetting that he isn’t surprised to see that when (y/n) hurries out of the cafe, Fratboy follows.

He huffs, shutting his book without marking it and tossing it haphazardly into his bag.  He hadn’t even gotten to finish his lunch.  Maybe he could sneak a few bites in his next class.

(y/n’s) trying not to tear up as she rushes into the empty corridor outside of the cafe.  It wasn’t like her to cry over a stained shirt, but it was just so embarrassing to have to go the rest of her day with the obvious mark.  Not to mention it was cold and wet and sticking to her skin and- jesus, of course it was soaked through enough that the black bra she wore was visible now.  

Even as she pried the material forward off of her skin, she could still feel the sticky remnants of coffee underneath.  It wasn’t like she had a spare outfit in her car, and she still had three classes left in her day.  Was she really stuck in this wet shirt until then? 

“Sorry princess, it was an accident, swear!” 

And to make matters worse, it appears she’d been followed.

(y/n) can’t help the groan of frustration as she releases the material of her shirt, letting it stick to her torso again.

“It’s… it’s fine, it’s whatever” She grumbles, waving off the guy she recognized as the cafe bother, or so she coined in her mind, never having gotten his name during all the times he’d hit on her.  There’s not much sincerity in her words, but she doesn’t need him lingering around while she tries to decide what to do.

“I did try to dodge ya, but you really weren’t looking where you were going,” He continues, despite her obvious disinterest in his entire presence.  “Is there anything I can do?” 

He comes closer and on instinct she backs away.  Her expression alarmed and eyes cautious when he pressed closer anyways.  It’s not that she thinks he’s going to hurt her, but she doesn’t want him any closer than arms’ length.  Ten feet would be nice, but unless she wanted to draw more attention to herself by turning and booking it down the hall, arms’ length would have to do.

“No” She answers, as firm as she can get herself to be.  To her, this is the part where he should walk away.

He looks apologetic as he steps forward again, but this time her step backward has her almost up against a wall, and now her senses are on high alert.  Discomfort courses through her, a feeling worse than the cold coffee sticking to her skin.

“C’mon, I could at least help you get out of your-” 

Fratboy doesn’t get a chance to finish his statement when a harsh grip lands on his shoulder and pries his body to move with ease.  His initial reaction is to fight back against the force, but he doesn’t get to do that either, as he’s spun around and shoved into the wall.

Even the snarl on his expression disappears when it’s Fushiguro Megumi that presses in close and keeps him pinned to the wall.  His bruising grip is replaced by his entire forearm caged against his collarbone, just barely pressing against his throat.

A yelp dies in the back of (y/n’s) throat as the whole thing happens in a matter of seconds.  It’s as if she blinks and suddenly Megumi’s there prying this guy out of her personal space as if he was personally offended by the act.

“H-hey man, what the hell is your problem?” The waver in Fratboy’s voice is embarrassingly clear.  Megumi would laugh if he was in a joking mood.  He’s not.

His hard expression is terrifying up close.  (y/n’s) standing just a few feet away and even she feels a slight shiver go down her spine.

“Pricks like you,” Megumi mutters, and Fratboy swallows a fat lump in his throat.  “Skipping around like you’re hot shit and get to have anything you want.  Pretentious pricks” He spits the last part out through clenched teeth.

All (y/n) can think about were the rumors from last year.  The guy Megumi supposedly put in the hospital.  Those rumors had been enough to have people steer clear from him.  She didn’t even let herself get too close when pressing his buttons, even if intrigue plagued her mind.

“I didn’t- I didn’t do anything!” Fratboy tries to raise his voice, a pitiful attempt at puffing his chest and making him appear more of a fighter than he really was.  His head swivels, wide eyes landing on (y/n), who was stuck frozen watching it all unfold.  “Tell him!” He shouts at her, and she startles just a little.  Not because she was afraid of the demand, but because as soon as it came out of his mouth, Megumi’s foot brought enough force to have the guy’s legs straighten up, which in turn kept him further back into the wall.

If Megumi could push the guy clean through the white painted brick, he’d be a bloody mess stuck inside of the concrete already.

“Don’t look at her,” The command comes out in a growl.  Megumi didn’t need to raise his voice to sound tough.  His brows are furrowed tight and low over his piercing eyes, which were half the force keeping Fratboy against this wall.  “Humor me, prick,” Megumi asks, making sure his attention couldn’t be drawn back towards (y/n) a second time.  “How come your shirt’s so pressed ‘n clean?” 

The guy’s lip wobbles a bit before he manages a small “H-huh?” 

“Your shirt,” Megumi’s voice is colder this time for having to repeat himself.  “How come it’s so clean?” 

“I- I- because I do my laundry?” He asks weakly.

Megumi rolls his eyes, letting them fall shut as his head tilts towards the high ceiling.  This guy had to be joking.

“Wrong answer,” He huffs.  “I’m gonna let you go, and you’re gonna go buy yourself another overpriced pretentious fucking coffee, got that?” 

Fratboy’s brows furrow, but he nods his head shakily in response.  Perhaps Megumi’s arm was pressed too hard against his chest, and he was finally out of air.  Megumi could only hope.

“And you’re gonna take that coffee and dump it over your head” 

“What!? I’m not-” 

“So you’d rather take the beating?” Megumi asks before the guy could protest too much.  His brows are raised, his interest genuinely piqued.  He had no problem with either option.  Having this prick walk around with a broken nose or an expensive shirt with a big brown coffee stain seemed like a win-win situation to him.

It’s clear that Fratboy remembers the last prick that pissed off Fushiguro Megumi, and he must remember that he wasn’t given options, because the back of his head defeatedly hits the wall behind him when he mutters out his choice.

Megumi gives him a solid nod, and he only pushes him a little bit when he drops his arm and steps back so he was free to leave.

Fratboy only takes a step and a half.

“Forgetting something?” Megumi barks, hard eyes freezing him in place before he could get close to re-entering the cafe.

Fratboy awkwardly maintains the eye contact, confusion clear in his features.  Megumi jerks his head towards (y/n), who’s silence evidently hadn’t made her invisible to the two.

“Oh, s-sorry- I’m sorry” 

It’s a weak ass apology, but Fratboy assumes it’s acceptable enough because when he rushes himself back into the cafe Megumi doesn’t stop him again.  He gets a few odd stares as he gets in line for a coffee with apprehensive eyes and his hands anxiously buried in his pockets, but he keeps his head down the entire time.

“Wh- why did you do that?” (y/n’s) mumble is the only sound in the empty hallway.  Her voice wants to stay stuck in her throat, but when it’s clear that Megumi isn’t going to give her an explanation- or say anything at all- she forces herself to ask.

His eyes fix on her, and an odd sensation settles over her.  All the previous fear and anxiety melts away.  She’d gone so rigid, her sense of fight or flight disappearing completely and keeping her stuck in place hoping she wasn’t going to be witness to a nasty fight.  But she hadn’t expected that.  Megumi’s intensity had been terrifying, even if it wasn’t directed at her, standing by and watching it had her throat closing up and her heart racing.

But he’d hardly even hurt the guy, just… humiliated him.  Still, it was just as shocking to watch.

And now, being alone with him and trapped under his stare, what she feels isn’t fear.  It’s… curiosity.

His eyes wander over her, reassuring himself that she was fine, maybe just a little shaken up by the whole thing.  She was probably more embarrassed than anything.  He could live with that, as long as she was safe.  He just couldn’t have placed his trust in that frat prick.

“I don’t like assholes” Megumi answers, his voice as monotone as ever, as if he hadn’t just scared the shit out of that guy for her.

The lump in her throat grew hot as the realization struck her.  He’d done all that for her? 

“Well- well yeah, but…” Her brows furrow, her head shakes ever so slightly as she tries to put her thoughts to words.  “But he didn’t do anything, just… was an asshole” 

“You don’t know that” His reply was quick but his tone didn’t shift.

(y/n’s) eyes widen, the furrow in her brow smooths out, and she’s at a loss for words as she keeps staring at him.

You have no idea what he was capable of doing.  Spiderman’s words repeat in her mind now as if he were standing right there saying them to her.  It’s uncanny how similar his warning was to Megumi’s just now.

“He probably would’ve fucked off if I told him to” She makes a weak argument in an attempt to fill the overbearing silence.

Megumi doesn’t say anything, just beckons her to follow him as he takes off in quick strides down the hall.  She should probably tell him to fuck off, but her curiosity gets the best of her, and she finds herself hurrying to catch up to him.  He’s not walking all that fast, but his stride is significantly longer than hers, and she finds herself out of breath as they round the corner and he enters the first empty classroom they come across.

“Maybe next time you’ll learn the lesson and tell him to fuck off, then” Megumi grumbles, more to himself than to her, but she takes offense nonetheless.

“Well sorry I wasn’t expecting you to show up out of nowhere and threaten the guy” She mutters back.

Megumi scoffs before shrugging his backpack off his shoulder.  (y/n) watches his every movement as he opens it up and digs around inside of it.  She wants to ask what he was looking for, but her words are stuck in her throat again, and this time she can’t get them to come out.

“I didn’t threaten anybody, relax,” He tells her in a voice that could’ve been more comforting, but it was at least steady and sure.  “It should make you feel better that he’s probably gone and made a fool of himself, now” He adds.

“Oh, thank you for that” She replies sarcastically.

“You’re welcome” Megumi replies in complete seriousness.

She opens her mouth, gaping at him, probably about to lay into him for taking her clear mockery as sincerity, but before she can he finally produces what he’d been looking for.

A tee shirt.

She blinks in dumbfounded silence as she stares at the plain black material in his hand.  His brows are raised in an impatient expression, but she doesn’t take the offer right away.

He sighs.  He’ll just have to do all the work, huh?

“Would you rather go the rest of the day in that?” He asks, nodding to the obvious mess of her shirt.

“It- it’s not that bad” She argues, her stubbornness forever getting in her own way.

“It’s going to reek of coffee” 

“I happen to like the- the coffee bean scent-” 

“It won’t be anything like that” 

“It’s not even that wet anymore” 

“I can see your whole bra now” 

That does the trick in shutting her up, her head snapping downward to reassess the damage done. The groan she lets out morphs into a whine before she looks up at the balled up shirt in his hand.  He vaguely stretches it towards her, and with a huff she snatches it right out of his hands.

As soon as he turns his back to her, busying himself with closing up his backpack, she’s peeling the ruined shirt over her head and quickly shrugging into the fresh tee shirt.

Besides the ridiculous proportion, she’s quick to notice the scent that clings to it.  She dips her head once it’s covered her, trying to place a name to the smell of fresh laundry.  Pine? Is this what pine smelled like? A part of her hated how good it smelled, how addicting it was to keep taking small sniffs.

“I’m… dressed” She says quietly when she’s gotten enough sniffs in and realizes that Megumi’s still just standing there.

When he turns, his eyes wander over figure not so subtly, but his expression is unchanging.  Even if his brain is going haywire seeing her in his clothes.  It’s just a tee shirt, but he takes a mental picture.

He realizes she must not wear black very often.  It’s striking on her.  It must be why his mouth has gone dry and he has to force himself to look her in the eye.

“Good?” He asks, already turning to leave the classroom.

She can’t believe he’s going to leave just like that.  It felt like nothing had been resolved here- and if anything, she only had more questions.  She doesn’t know what to say to make him stay, she’s not even sure he would stay if she asked him to.  He didn’t exactly seem to have any interest in being around her… ever… but then why had he put himself through all this trouble? Her muddled mind was a mystery, but the puzzled look on her face gave Megumi enough of an inclination to linger for just a minute longer.

“What?” He sighs, but her confusion is still plastered on her face.

“I… I don’t know…” Her voice is barely a mumble.  It doesn’t match the way her face tilts and shifts into something different.  She takes a step closer to him, a bold and large one, putting herself far closer to him than she ever would’ve imagined doing before.  She was supposed to keep a certain distance, Fushiguro Megumi had a reputation after all… but something was different.

This wasn’t the Fushiguro Megumi that she knew and despised.  In fact, this was a completely new person.  He was… familiar.

Megumi doesn’t step back when she draws in closer, but his neck leans backwards with apprehension, chin tilting lower to keep his eyes on her every movement.  It’s not like she’s able to do anything, there’s no mask to be ripped off, no secret identity to be figured out just from her stare alone, and yet something makes a pit grow in his stomach when she gets too close for comfort.

He’s never been this close to her.  Not without the wall of protection that was the Spiderman mask.

There’s nothing stopping him from walking away.  There was no harm in leaving her stranded in a classroom.  But something keeps him there anyways.  Something keeps him waiting for her to explain herself.

Her eyes drop his gaze, but they don’t fall far.  They land just a few inches lower, he can feel the prick of the daggers they stare against his lips.  Subconsciously he licks over them to soothe the ache of their sudden dryness.  Her look wanders just a little bit, but never too far.  Mapping out his chin and jawline, quickly down his neck and then back up again to his lips.

“What the hell are you doing?” He finally finds his voice when she leans in a little closer.  Not quite close enough to kiss him, but close enough that she could lean in if she wanted to.

(y/n) snaps out of it instantly, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushing when she looks at him properly again and realizes what she’d been doing.

Fushiguro Megumi? Spiderman? God, what was she thinking? 

“N-nothing” She stammers out, and before he could call her out and further her embarrassment, she brushes past him to make a quick exit out of the room.

Megumi’s left alone, his own cheeks flaring up with heat, but he can’t pinpoint what exactly causes the blushing, and he doesn’t really want to stand around to figure out why. ___

Megumi doesn’t show up to the last few classes of the day.  (y/n) notices.

Her fingers pinch at the hem of the tee shirt he’d given her, rolling the soft cotton over the pads of her fingers in contemplation.  Her focus on uncovering Spiderman’s identity during class has dwindled, but she’s not paying any attention to her studies, either.

For the last few hours of her day, she replays the events of the day in her mind on fast forward and rewind, over and over, trying to find something she felt she missed.

When had Megumi followed her out of the cafe? Had he seen what happened? Why was he so angry? Why was he so kind to her? Why was he so… 

It’s on the tip of her tongue, the timing of it all, the peculiarity of it all.  She knew she just had to be missing something.

Her trip home is quicker than usual, her steps as fast paced as her racing mind.  What was it? What was it that she wasn’t seeing? 

It was so close she could feel it looming right over shoulders. ___

Never before had she sought out Fushiguro Megumi.  But (y/n) couldn’t get the feeling to go away no matter how hard she tried, and she feared the only way out was through.

She didn’t want to confirm her assumptions without any proper evidence to base it all on, and she had a feeling that he was a pretty good liar, so she’d have to get creative with catching him.  The best way to start, she figures, is by getting him alone.

It takes longer than she hopes.  Megumi’s not an easy person to approach and he appears to like it that way.  She stares him down when he comes in late to their first class, and his eyes catch hers for a moment longer than usual, but without a change in his expression it’s hard for her to get a good read on him.  He takes his seat in the back of the class and she can’t get him to look at her again, no matter how many times she turns her gaze over her shoulder to steal another look at him.

After a few more classes with the same outcome, she supposes she’ll just have to wait until they break for lunch.  He’s always sitting alone there, so she has her hopes up that it will be easier to sit down and prove it then.

But of course today is the day he’s not seated at his usual corner table all to himself.  She waltzes into the cafe with nothing but confidence, and it’s ripped away from her when she sees that gloomy table empty.  She lingers for a few minutes, hoping to catch him walking in later than the rest, but he never comes.

With her confidence boiled down to irritation, she storms out of the cafe on a mission to have this ended once and for all.  She couldn’t possibly wait any longer, so one way or another, she was going to find and corner him.

The courtyard is empty at this time of day.  The weather was cloudy and with the high chance of rain in the next hour, no one wanted to spend their free time eating lunch or studying out there.

Ever the outlier, that’s where she happened to find Fushiguro Megumi.

She’s not sure if she should grin or grimace when she approaches the tree he’s sitting under.  He’s wearing his usual oversized headphones, and he’s got both his textbook and notebook opened.  He was the perfect image of don’t bother me.  (y/n) feels adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream as she rushes over to him.

It’s sort of strange.  Just a few days ago she would duck her head and keep walking if she happened to cross his path.  But it was like all of his intimidating qualities had just… disappeared.  Despite the vibe he was trying to put off, he didn’t seem as unapproachable anymore.  He didn’t seem as scary, although when she thinks about it long enough, (y/n) figures she’s probably the only person on this campus that interacted with him.  Even if it was to antagonize him, she’d never seen anyone else speak to him.

A few days ago, he was Fushiguro Megumi, the boy with the bad reputation and even worse attitude.  He was her academic rival, a thorn in her side that reminded her of faults just by existing.  Today, she thinks he might just be the boy she’s been falling head over heels for.  The one with careful words spoken by gentle lips.  The first person in a long time that actually made her feel seen, and a feeling of being understood could work wonders on a stubborn heart.

“Hey!” She hollers, and Megumi jolts as he looks up to find her walking up to him.  His expression scrunches up as he pulls his headphones down around his neck, and lowers his dual books.

“What do you want?” He asks, but the words aren’t nearly as harsh as he wants them to be.

She stops just before him, and invites herself to sit down beside his outstretched legs.  He wants to tell her that he’s busy, that he’s studying out here alone because he wants peace and quiet, but he’s silent as she drops her backpack in front of her and opens it up.

“Thought you’d want this back” She says, pulling out a familiar black tee shirt.  She hands it to him folded in a neat square.  He almost laughs, knowing that when he’d offered it to her it had been a crumpled up ball.

“Right” He says, but before he takes it, she pulls it back towards herself, unfolding it.  Megumi watches with furrowed brows.  Was she not giving it back? 

“I’ve just had this weird feeling lately,” She explains as she opens the shirt up completely.  Megumi’s confused expression flickers between her and the shirt.  “So I wanted to see something” 

She starts bunching up the black material then, which Megumi watches with growing bewilderment.  Why even fold it? What was this? 

“Okay…?” His voice trails off when she looks up at him again, and the next thing he knows she’s leaning in close, holding his tee shirt up to his face.  “What the- (y/n), what the hell are you doing?” 

She ignores his questioning and the way he tries to swat her hands from getting any closer, but it doesn’t stop her from doing exactly what she aimed to do.  Holding the black material up to cover half his face, from the bridge of his nose up, all that was left to see was his mouth down.

She couldn’t deny that it wasn’t a familiar sight, but it was hard to prove her theory on that alone, and she sighs.

“(y/n), this is annoying.  And weird,” Megumi starts, his hands wrapping around her wrists in a careful hold, but enough to start to pull her and the tee shirt she was trying to blindfold him with away.  “Can I have the shirt back or not- mmph!” 

Just as he thinks he’s put a stop to her weird antics, she takes him by complete surprise when she darts forward and presses her lips against his.  Megumi’s eyes go wide, although he’s still half hidden behind the shirt, he can’t help but keep them open as her soft lips move over his with familiar gentle passion.  His confusion melts away the longer she holds the kiss, and by the time he thinks he should put a stop to it, it’s already too late.  He’s connected the dots and so has she.

He sighs against her mouth, his fingers twitching around her wrists, unsure as to whether or not he should let her go or pull her in closer.  (y/n) breaks away from the kiss just as she releases his shirt.  They both let it drop to his lap, and she finally gets to see the whole picture.

His features have fallen to soft surprise as he gazes back at her, waiting for whatever was about to come.  He doesn’t know if he should brace himself for something good or something bad, but he does his best to put his walls up anyways.

Her own eyes are wide with recognition, flickering between his own troubled eyes and the lips she’d just spontaneously kissed.  Her tongue darts over her bottom lip thoughtfully, and for a second, Megumi thinks she’s going to give it a second try just to be sure.  She doesn’t have to say anything right away for him to know exactly what she was thinking.  She knew those lips.  She knew that kiss.  He’d gotten his cover blown over a kiss, of all things.

What he doesn’t expect is for (y/n) to let out a breathless laugh of delight, once the gears in her mind start to turn again.  Her eyes are glimmering with an excitement she couldn’t contain.

“I told you I’d figure it out!” She keeps her voice hushed, which he can tell takes a great deal of effort.

“You always go around kissing random people?” He mumbles, thinking maybe he can play it off, maybe there was still a chance of gaslighting her into thinking he wasn’t the masked webslinger that had been slowly sparking up a romance with her.  

There’s not even a small chance, though.  (y/n) pulls her hands out of his gentle hold just to reach for his face, curiously skimming over his jaw, and then down his shoulders.  His attempts at reaching for her hands again to stop her from practically running them all over him are weak, and it’s easy for her to ignore his clear attempts at stopping her.

“Wow, I almost can’t believe it,” She begins to mumble to herself, her eyes moving at rapid speeds as she puts the picture together in her mind.  The lips she’d memorized in the hopes of finding them again, only to find they were on Megumi’s face, she lets out a delirious string of giggles.  “I mean, it makes sense now, but it also doesn’t- why did you keep coming to see me?” 

Megumi opens his mouth, but he doesn’t get a single word out before she’s throwing more questions at him.

“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t figure it out? I’m top of the class you know, and you’re not exactly great at hiding things-” 

“Second to the top,” Megumi reminds her with a slight roll of his eyes.  “And it took you quite a while, you know” 

“Yeah, well, the secrecy thing was fun for a bit,” She argues.  “But you barely tried to hide it.  Coming into class looking like you got hit by a bus? What were you thinking?” 

“That you hated my guts and didn’t care if I did get hit by a bus?” He replies with a smartass smile.  Now it’s her turn to roll her eyes.

Her hands fall still against his collarbones, fingertips barely tapping against the base of his throat with her excitement.

“It was you this whole time…” She murmurs, but she doesn’t sound as disappointed as Megumi expects.  Her gentle eyes feel piercing as they stare at him thoughtfully, as if this was the first time she was really seeing him.  In a way, it sort of was.  “Were you ever going to tell me?” She asks quietly, and this time she does wait for him to say something.  

Megumi sighs, regarding her soft expression with thoughtfulness.  There was no coming back from this now.  She figured him out and he barely even tried to cover it up.  That was a hard thing to do once she’d kissed him, though.  She must’ve figured out his weakness, and happily used it against him..  Typical brat.

“I thought about it,” He says honestly.  “Just didn’t seem like a good idea,” 

The corners of her lips barely turn into a frown, and Megumi can’t help himself from reaching out to her, cradling her jaw in as light of a touch as he could bear.  It was different now, feeling her warm skin against his without hiding in a suit, behind a mask.  He knows she must feel it, too.

Everything was completely different now.  She must be upset with him, right? She must at least be discouraged in finding out it had been him all along.  Not someone with a better track record, maybe someone more attractive, or at least nice to her.  He wonders if she had her hopes up for a specific person.

“Are you upset?” He asks.  He doesn’t want to know all the answers to his questions, but he asks before he could shove down the curiosity and avoid it forever.

“Upset?” She repeats, brows furrowing momentarily with her confusion.  “What do you mean?” 

“Y’know,” He mumbles, long lashes flickering as his eyes fall to her lips for a moment.  He looks at her again before continuing.  “That it’s me.  That it’s been me” 

“Oh,” She hums, thinking for a second.  “Well… did you mean it all?” 

“Mean it all?” He repeats her now.  “You mean while I was Spiderman?” 

(y/n) nods in a small motion.

“Yeah… did you mean all the stuff you said… and did?” She adds the last part in an even quieter whisper than the rest, but the look in her eyes is so full of anticipation it speaks volumes over her voice.

“Yeah, of course,” Megumi answers without a shred of hesitation.  “Of course I did,” He says it again, leaning forward with emphasis, his eyes never leaving hers.  “(y/n), I didn’t want you finding out because I didn’t… I didn’t know that I would…” He trails off, his nerves starting to crawl up his throat for having to admit so many truths in one sitting.  This one seemed to be harder than the rest.  “I didn’t know I’d like you so much” 

She laughs, breathless and sweet, humored by such an honest confession.  It finally makes a real smile creep over his lips, relieved to see that her reaction was anything but negative.  His heart skips a beat, and his thumb trembles as he reaches to stroke it over her cheekbone.  He can’t help but want to pull her in closer, hold her properly, maybe even kiss her again.  It should scare him, that she knew the truth now, that he was vulnerable to her now, but right now all he feels is a weight lifted off his chest, and the lingering taste of her chapstick on his lips.

“I definitely didn’t plan on liking you so much either,” She admits softly, her cheeks burning with color.  Megumi can feel the heat in her skin when he presses the pad of his thumb further against her cheek.  “Are you mad about it?” 

“Mad?” He laughs, his smile becoming a full blown grin now as he leans in closer to her.  Her fingers curl into the material of his shirt as he draws her in closer, too.  Anticipation has her eyes flickering between his lips and the deep blue eyes that haven’t left hers since she’d kissed him.  “Mad about what? Getting to know you? The real you? And falling for you?” 

Her eyes grow wide as she stares back at him.  For a guy that hid behind a mask for weeks, he sure got comfortable putting his cards on the table fast.

“No, I’m not mad about it,” He answers her properly, closing enough distance in between them that his nose prodded against hers.  Her eyes fluttered shut before she could stop herself, her chin tilting forward to meet him the rest of the way.  “I’ve wanted nothing more than to be with you, like this, for real, since you brought me that dumb bag of vegetables” 

“It wasn’t dumb, there wasn’t ice” She argued.  Her lips had just been brushing over his in the ghost of a kiss before she jerked away to argue some more.  Ever so stubborn, he thinks with nothing but fondness for her.

Megumi doesn’t let her go far, pulling her right back in until her lips landed on his, and all further arguments died on her tongue.  Her hands relaxed their hold on his shirt as her lips moved against his with muscle memory.  Soft and so pliable, she melted right against him, leaning closer and closer until they were chest to chest, and Megumi moved his free arm to wrap around the dip in her back, keeping her tucked as close to him as he could without disconnecting their lips.

She finally gets to card her hands through his hair, scraping her nails over the nape of his neck before pushing the longer strands between her fingers.  It becomes impossibly messier than usual, but Megumi only hums in delight as she messes it all up.  He must’ve always wanted more, too.

Her fingers tangle in his hair and she doesn’t let up even when they part to catch their breath.  Megumi stays close, his forehead resting against hers as he pants over her lips, leaving her still wanting more.

“You know I still have a million questions, right?” She murmurs, and Megumi can’t help but place the softest of kisses against her lips as she speaks, even if he was still breathless.

“I don’t feel like sitting and talking right now” He mumbles, chasing her lips for another kiss.  She giggles, kissing him back but not nearly as long as he would’ve liked.  Pulling away all too soon, she stares at him with wide eyes.

“I mean, how do the webs work?” 

“(y/n), we have class in ten minutes, that’s not nearly enough time to get into it all,” He sighs, his hands smoothing over her hips and trying to draw her closer again.  “Can’t we just enjoy this a little longer, and talk about all of that later?” 

Huffing, (y/n) leans back in, and it makes Megumi smile if only for a moment.  She stops short just before her lips could touch his.

“So… did Spiderman put that guy in a hospital last year?” 

Megumi groans, dropping his head back against the trunk of the tree.  She wasn’t going to let this go, and that reputation was going to follow him forever, it seemed.

“Alright.  C’mon, we’re headed to class,” He prompted her to grab her things and stand with him, but she kept her hands in his hair too secure for him to want to stand up.  “(y/n), I promise I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, later-” 

“Let’s just skip class” She suggests, all too eagerly for a girl that bragged about being at the top of their class.

“Yeah, right,” Megumi scoffs, but when her expression doesn’t waver, his face falls and he stares at her bewildered.  “You’re not serious…?” 

“Why not?” She replies.  “We can afford to miss a couple classes,” It’s not a bad argument, Megumi’s just shocked to hear her say it at all.  “And.. I want to be the first one to get an exclusive interview with Spiderman” She giggles, and Megumi huffs, giving her a bored look.

“I’d rather go to class” 

“And we can make out” 

“... I guess some catching up isn’t a bad idea” 

It takes them some time to gather their things and get going, only because (y/n) insisted on keeping her hands on him in one way or another, but even if Megumi pretended to be annoyed it wasn’t a believable performance.  He kept her close with his arm wrapped firm around her as they made their way off campus quickly, hoping to beat the rain.

“You know, I’m thinking of calling you the Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman when I write about you,” (y/n) tells him on their walk to her apartment.  “Has a nice ring to it” 

Megumi laughs humorlessly.

“Not sure it paints a very accurate picture,” He tells her, brows raised as he watches her pout up at him.  “But you’re kinda gonna be my publicist, so I guess I’ll take what I can get” 

“Hey! I thought you said you were falling for me” (y/n) sasses back.  Megumi bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too hard.  He tosses his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer as they walk.

“That was off the record” He mumbles.

She beams up at him, he pulls her a little closer into his side, keeping an eye on her only from his peripheral vision.  He couldn’t be getting too sappy with the way he looked at her now, he’d grown too used to having a mask to hide the dreamy look in his eye.  Now though, it was completely on display for her to see.

(y/n) quite liked the view that she got now that he was mask-free.  She’d always had her suspicions that Spiderman was handsome, and quite the victory it was to be proven right in that department.  The stubborn, monotone, boy with a reputation part was just… an added bonus, she supposed.

She also supposed that she’d come with her own reputation now, too.  With Megumi never far behind he took on a role akin to guard dog.  She couldn’t deny she grew to like the feeling, melting at the protective way he kept close whether he had the mask on or not.

He had a certain responsibility to uphold when it came to keeping Tokyo safe, but he had a responsibility to those he loved, too.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[dragonsholygrail]

Do Hybrid!Readers count?

I’m thinking of a monster Reader being kept for research purposes and catching the attention of the newest hire. Cheeky, beastly Reader with an awkward, nerdy scientist who unsuccessfully tries to hide his infatuation. He stares for too long, finds pathetic excuses to work overtime, and pretends to be deeply interested in whatever topic involves Reader. Lately, he’s been spotted reading a book about Reader’s kind, particularly mating habits. For, uh, science, mind you.

Alternatively, it can be a human Reader in a monster lab. I just found the dynamic funny. :)

Aaaah, yes yes! It definitely counts, I love this sorta dynamic. It can be really hilarious and a ton of fun ^_^

None of the Scientists in the lab could really figure you out. You were a giant beast who appeared naturally incredibly threatening. So all the scientists had been a bit hesitant to get in close and really figure out what kind of Hybrid you were exactly.

But they just had to. Because for some reason, some idiot had accidently leaked to the press that they had you in custody. Before they knew it there were countless pictures and articles plastered all over the internet about you. People wanted answers and they sadly had to be the ones to get them. So they brought in a specialist.

The young Scientist stared up at you in awe the first time he met you. He couldn’t actually believe he was meeting you up close. He didn’t know how to react. In fact, he didn’t know anything at all when it came to you. You see, he wasn’t actually a hybrid specialist. He was a scientist, that part was true! Everything else may have been a slight exaggeration on his application.

He just wanted to see you so so bad. He had to. The moment he saw those pictures of you he knew the two of you were meant to be. You were the reason he had never totally clicked with humans, couldn’t keep a partner, and had never fallen in love. His heart was waiting for you.

And now that he was with you, he needed to know everything about you. Not only to sate his own desire but also, ya know, to keep his job. Or else some foolish human might try and separate him from you again. It left him fawning over you constantly, watching you all day everyday, always staying late just so he could be alone with you for a couple hours, and butting in whenever someone tried to talk about you. Because of course he knew you best.

His growing knowledge of you left him convinced you were nearing your heat. Your restless behavior. The way you kept banging against the glass trying to get to him. Over the weeks you had noticed his interest and his care and yours had grown just as much. You had chosen him as your mate and he wanted to be there for you.

The only thing he could think to do was read books on mating behaviors. Of just about every single Hybrid species you could possible be.

Stacks of books surround him in the lab. His interest of you hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others. Not by a long shot. But they brushed off his strange behavior if jt kept him closer to you and them farther away. They avoid him now too, looking at him like the absolute freak he is as they realize what he’s reading.

Their worry doesn’t decrease when he later explains how you need to mate soon in order to keep you in check. They look at him like he’s truly gone insane and maybe he has. The wild look in his eye has only grown more intense the more he’s been around you without truly being with you.

He convinces them with the idea that you’ll be better after you’ve mated. Easier to handle. More open to having experiments done on you while your body is sated and exhausted after being fucked for hours on end. While in reality, from what he’s studied, the opposite is true.

He doesn’t plan on letting them go anywhere within a mile of you. Not with injections, chemicals, and especially not with their grubby little hands. No, only he can touch you. Only he deserves to be near your beauty and grace.

After you mate with him you’re going to be even more wild and destructive, your instincts inflamed and ready to fight. He’s gonna use that to get you two out of that lab if it’s the last thing he does.

Meanwhile the other scientists don’t suspect a thing as they stand a safe distance away from the cage as it opens to let the young scientist inside. The metal door snaps shut once he’s inside and he feels like he can finally breathe now that there’s nothing keeping you two a part.

Mirroring smirks grow on your faces, your expressions speaking of a secret just between the two of you. And as you both finally meet each other in a passionate embrace, you know this will be a wild night that will end with your freedom and a mate by your side.

[luvyeni]

ANGEL OF MINE ,, 박성훈

pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ criminal!sunghoon x fem!reader wc. 4k

genre. smut

🦢◞ includes ... public sex, unprotected sex, oral ( m & f receiving ), car sex

「 authors note 𖹭 ��� this was a prison break fic , but i ended up changing and just did criminal hoon!

❪ masterlist! ❫

most people could say you met sunghoon in the worst possible place possible; but growing up, your mother always told you that as long as you love each other it shouldn't matter where you meet the love of your life — except your mother didn't mean a prison like how you met sunghoon.

at first you thought it was odd; you were a well established college student, jobs lining up for you after graduation all thanks to your dads connections, many suitors waiting for you to finish your studies with the hope of marriage after graduation; even though you had no interest, a group of friends, much like you; and the best part, more money you could ever dream of… so the whole penpal thing was odd to you; why would you talk to some random person who is in prison nonetheless? that was until you started talking to sunghoon.

sunghoon was used to prison; he'd been there before, many times before and it's the same thing everytime, he'd try to keep his head down— he always failed , outside of prison he'd made a lot of enemies , so he did end up knocking a few heads around and he ended up spending the rest of his sentence in solitary confinement. this time he fucked up and he was facing a longer sentence; a much longer sentence. that was until he received a letter from you; little precious you, his saving grace.

the first letter was the just the introduction; and that was all he needed to become obsessed with you; he knew what you looked like because you sent him a photo , he also knew you weren't old cat lady; you were college student, he would've been a college student too, had he not taken the other route. he also knew that although you were extremely book smart; you were innocent in so many ways, and sunghoon loved that; he didn't need your money, he just needed your love and devotion.

by the fourth letter you were already telling him you'd wait for him and when could you see him; at first he told you a sweet thing like you didn't need to come to such a bad place and that all you had to do was be a good girl and wait for him.

by the sixth letter you were telling him you can't wait to see him and that you'd be there that next weekend; and for the first time ever since he'd been to prison, he was happy.

“park!” the guard yelled, making direct eye contact with him as he banged on the gate. “i can't fucking see you.” the boy hissed. “yeah well , get up.” he stood from his bed in his single cell; that he got after he went through the entire cell block of cell mates; everyone was too scared to share with him. “you got a visitor.” he said flatly as they opened the gate , they dragged him out of his cell and down the hall. “let's go.”

you nervously picked at your skirt; your mother bought it from her travels in some glamours country, maybe you should've worn jeans , would he like this? would he like your makeup? would he like you? for the past week that was all on your mind, sunghoon, this was your first time meeting him so your stomach was churning as you were waiting for him. “angel?”

you turned around to face the boy; the man who'd you think whenever you had free time, you no longer went out with your friends , instead you stayed home and waited for his call , writing multiple letters to, you were obsessed with him. “sunghoon.”

he sat down in front of you, taking in your outfit. “nice outfit angel, you wore that just for me?” he smirked. “do you like it?” you asked, waiting for his approval. “of course i do, finally something pretty to look at in this ugly fucking place.” you cringed at his foul language. “sunghoon, language.” he threw his hands up. “sorry angel.” you nodded. “it's nice to finally meet you in person.”

“angel i have thought about this day since the first time you sent me a letter with that pretty face of yours.” he surely had his way in charming you. “you’re too cute angel , what are you doing here?” you shrugged shyly , you definitely didn't belong here , but you wanted to be here , you want to be here with him. “i like you, i guess.” he smirked. “yeah?” turning around looking for the guard who was barely paying attention. “come closer then.” you nervously leaned in , your elbows now on the table. “good girl.”

“how much do you like me?” he said, his hand slipping under the table. “would you still like me if i tell you what i did?” he asked, hand now on your knee. “what if i killed someone?” your eyes widened. “you didn't, did you?” he chuckled , rubbing your knee. “no angel, no one died.” fortunately for him. “but i did hurt some people real bad,” he said. “not like they didn't deserve it angel.”

“what did they do?” you asked, voice shaking as his hand crept up your skirt. “don't worry about that right now angel.” he said, you nodded. “you still like me?” you nodded. “good.” he smiled , his hand cupping your clothes mound , you turn around nervously looking for the guard. “trust me dove they aren't worried about us.” he ran his finger up your slit. “you're dripping baby, you got this wet for little ole me?” he ran his tongue across his bottom lip. “sunghoon.” you whimpered , he put his finger to his lips.

“you gotta be real quiet angel , we can get in real big trouble if they catch us.”

he pushed a finger in, you bit your lip hard to conceal a moan. “look at you all cute , trying not to moan , if these guards weren't here i would take you right here , make you cum with my cock and not my fingers.” he added another, curling them inside you. “you wanna cum on my cock?” you nodded , your bottom lip was bleeding a little from biting it. “y-yes.” you whined. “i do.”

“when i get outta here dove , i promise, i'll make you cum as many times as this little pussy can give me.” you gasped , “sunghoon , i'm gonna cum.” you whispered , you wanted to kiss his perfectly plump lips , he was right in front of you , but you couldn't because of the guard who was standing a few feet away. “go ahead cum for me angel , our time is almost up.” your mouth dropped open , a silent moan came out of your mouth , as you came , he talked you through your orgasm , before pulling his fingers out of you. “he's coming over angel.”

“sorry miss time is up.” the guard said. “get up park.” they yanked him up. “see you angel , wait for me yeah?” you saw him bringing his fingers to his mouth as they dragged him away.

after that day all you could think about is sunghoon; not like it wasn't any different from before, but now you knew how he could make you feel; the way he talked to you about what he wanted to do to you when he got out; when he got out , that was the hard part, you didn't know the full details of his case , just that he was involved in some bad stuff and he ended up getting into a fight with a few guys and lets just say he came out looking a lot better than they did, and now he's sitting in a prison for maybe the next 3-5 years.

“what if i help you out?” you sat across from him the next visit. “what do you mean angel?” you shrugged. “help get you out of here?” he laughed, leaning forward. “angel i think you're watching way too much tv , it's not as easy as you think , to break someone out of prison.” you laughed , something he loved to hear , it was the only thing that kept him from going insane. “i didn't mean that silly.” he tilted his head to the side , his eyebrows lifting up in interest. “then what angel?”

“well daddy knows some people , in some high places.” you said , he folded his arms. “and maybe if i butter him up just enough, i could maybe get him to talk to some of these people.” he wasn't about to jump for joy, he didn't really want to have to owe your father one. “angel , your father is gonna take one look at my rap sheet and demand that those people keep me locked up just to keep me away from you.” he laughed. “i’m not necessarily a good guy.” he said.

“not if i butter him up first; buy him a new watch, get the chef to cook him his favorite food , tell him how much i love him , tell him that you'll do better if they just give you another shot.” at that moment sunghoon realized two things besides you being the cutest thing to ever grace his presence; 1. you were way more wealthy than he thought, and 2. your love and devotion to him could help him in the future. “angel you know that last thing isn't gonna happen.”

you pouted; of course you knew that. “well yeah, and although i'm not too happy with that, i want you out of here.” you whined , he smirked. “yeah and why is that?” you shied away. “because.” he leaned forward. “why angel?” you bit your lip , thinking about your previous visit. “is my precious angel thinking about dirty things?” you shook your head. “n-no.” but he wasn't buying it. “i think you are.” his words were now whispered. “want to me to fuck that little cunt so bad you're willing to do anything to get me out of here?” you nodded. “then go ahead angel , get me outta here.”

…

you knocked on the door of your father's study; you heard a muffled come in , before pushing the door open. “hi daddy.” you skipped into the room. “and i know that skip from anywhere, how much you need?” you pouted , sitting in the seat across from him. “actually i got you a gift.” you held out the small rolex bag. “a watch?”

“just a little gift to show my love, i also had the chef make your favorite; so if you'll just follow me.” you both made your way to the table. “this looks good doesn't it?” you sat down next to him , the chef leaving you both after you thank him.

“so.” you father finally spoke up. “you get me this expensive watch; pretty sure i’ll be getting the invoice on that soon.” you smiled. “you get them to make my favorite food , thousand and one compliments , i know what this means.” he said. “you want something , what is it princess?”

you sighed , you prayed for this to work. “you sure?” he laughed. “anything you want , you shall have , after this perfect night.” you decided to give it a go. “well you know that i've made a new friend.” you started , he moved in his seat; coughing uncomfortably, he was aware of your relationship with the prisoner, and he wasn't fine with it , but you were an adult and he couldn't stop you. “you know how i feel about that sweetheart.”

“i know and that's why you know i would never come to you unless i really needed to.” you said. “did he do something to you?” you shook your head. “of course not , he's a good boy.” your father scoffed. “he's a prisoner.” he took a sip of his whiskey. “daddy listen.” you held his hand. “please just help me get him out.”

“absolutely not.” he said , you whined. “he's a criminal yn! not once or twice; he's been in and since he was in highschool.” your eyes widened. “you checked his record?”

“of course i did , you know he's in there this time 3-5 years for assault with a deadly weapon, he almost killed two people.” well you didn't know that much. “he said they deserved it , they hit him first.” you defended him. “he has anger issues.” he said. “daddy he said he'd change , he promised.” you'd cross that bridge when you got there , you doubted he was gonna change. “you think he's telling the truth?”

“just ask?” you said , the best desperate face you can make; once you heard your father sigh , you had to force the smile down. “i'll make some calls and let you know what we can do for him.” you couldn't wait to tell sunghoon. “this is the only time i'll help him , he fucks up again and i'll make sure he gets the maximum.”

…

sunghoon was losing his mind in his cell; he needed you, he missed you , fuck that little taste he had of you in the visiting room — he couldn't think about anything other than that; you were better than any drug or alcohol he's ever tried. “park.” the guard banged on the cell. “get up!”

he grunted , getting up from his hard bed. “where to today paul?” the guard grunted , opening the gate. “let's go.” he was confused, his next visit with you wasn't scheduled until the following week , and it's not like his friends could just show up and visit him — most of them were probably supposed to be here right with him , so it couldn't be them and his family; those asshole completely washed their hands of him in the first place. “where are we going?”

he knew this route; he'd seen it many times before, but what he couldn't understand is why he was taking this route. “i know you dirty C.O’s like to play jokes , but this one is about to piss me off.” the cop threw him into the room. “asshole.” he growled. “undress.” the guard said. “you're going home.” he was confused. “what?”

you waited excitedly outside of your car, the driver waiting inside; you bounced as you heard the gates opening , the raven haired boy walked through the gate. “yn?” you took off, running straight into his arm. “it worked!” you laughed. “what worked angel , im so confused right now.” he said , you didn't answer him , instead you wrapped your arms around his shoulders , kissing him; you finally got to kiss the man you'd been talking to for the past 6 months. “my dad , he actually helped.” you pulled away. “you really talked to him?”

“mhm , he knows the judge assigned to your case, i asked him to put in a good word for you.” he grabbed the sides of your face. “this time , try not to get in trouble or at least don't get caught this time.” you slapped his chest. “angel.” he kissed you , holding you close; his tongue swiping across your lip , he nibbled down on , you moaned. “there goes those pretty noises.”

“is there someone in that front seat?” he asked. “my driver of course.” you said like it was normal. “angel , does that driver ask questions?” he smirked. “no , why?” you questioned. “because i can't wait until we get somewhere private.” he grabbed your hand , you smiled. “let's go , i never want to see this place for a long time at least.” you glared at him. “again angel , i meant again.”

you opened the car door; climbing inside grabbed your leg, flipping you over closing the door. “mrs?” your driver said , sunghoon was working his way down your neck , wrapping your legs around his waist. “my-my house.” you whimpered , neither one of you caring about the man in front. “don't you live with your family?”

“i have my own apartment.” he smirked , lifting your shirt over your head , you both were so into it , his shirt coming off , along with your panties , bunching your skirt up. “should i thank you angel?” he kissed your stomach , “eat your pretty pussy for getting me out of that hell hole?” you moaned out nodding. “pl-please.”

lifted your legs over his shoulders; your cunt on display. “so pretty baby , been thinking of tasting this pussy ever since that day in the visiting room. he kissed your cunt , licking a strip up your cunt. “so good baby.” you moaned out. “sunghoon.” he held your waist down , lapping at your cunt over and over , your hand coming up to his hair , the other one hitting the back of the seat. “su-sunghoon , im gonna cum.”

you groaned, feeling your grip his hair , cumming right into his mouth. “fuck angel.” he pulled away , letting out a dry laugh. “you taste so fucking good.” he moaned out , your taste alone made him go crazy , crazy enough he was willing to give up everything just to keep tasting you. “angel i need to fuck you now.”

luckily for the driver he pulled into your apartment complex right before sunghoon was about to take his pants off. “we're here miss.” sunghoon turned to you. “we've waited 6 months angel , i'm sure you can wait 5 minutes?” he handed you the shirt you were wearing. “get dressed for me love.”

you thanked the driver, sunghoon helping you out of the car. “wait dove.” he reached back into the vehicle. “you forgot this?” he smirked , pulling out your underwear, your ears heated up and you shied away. “oh angel , you let me finger you in front of 20 other prisoners and eat you out in front of your personal driver, i think it's time we drop this innocent girl act.” he pulled you close to him. “cause when we get up to that fancy apartment of yours , im gonna fuck you like the slut i know you are.”

the ride up to your apartment was innocent , sunghoons hand was under your skirt , toying with your clit. “pretty pussy is dripping , begging to be stretched out.” you moaned. “su-sunghoon the door is about to open.”

you finally reached your apartment; it was bigger than anything sunghoon would probably see in his life , but that wasn't his main focus as you guided him to your bedroom. “i wanna give you something.” you led him to your bed. “a welcome home gift.” you took your shirt off , sinking down to your knees. “you wanna suck me off angel?” you nodded , he cursed; you looked up at him with such innocent eyes , even though the current position is not so innocent. “naughty girl.” he smirked.

lifting his hips up, pushing his pants down to his ankles , the air hitting his leaky cock; he groaned. “come on angel , suck on it.” he guided your mouth to his cock. “open wide angel.” he guided your head down on his cock , he moaned , it had been a while , and you were working his cock like magic , your tongue running along his length. “fuck dove , i-i'm started to think you've done this before.”

“angel can you go deeper for me?” you hummed around him , vibrations making his eyes roll to the back of his head “shiiiiit , shit i'm gonna cum.” his hand came to the back of your head , pushing your head down. “fuck im cumming.”

he gasped letting your head go as he filled your mouth , spit dribbling down your chin along with his cum. “good girl , taking my cum like that.” you smiled , teary eyed.

he could've have gotten you on the bed quick enough, pushing your legs open , your cunt already bare for him. “you ready for me dove?” his hard length already prodding at your entrance. “pl-please fuck me hoon.” you felt his cock enter your body , you shut your eyes , hissing at the stretch. “to-too big.”

“i know , but you can take it angel.” he kissed your forehead , moving in and out of you. “good girl , take my cock.” he groaned , speeding up , your tits bouncing back and force. “been dreaming bout this cunt since the first time you came and visited me , remember dove?” his cock was now abusing your cervix. “you took my fingers during our first meeting.” you moaned and nodded. “i-it felt good.”

“i bet it did baby , that's how i knew right then and there you were mine.” he moaned. “my perfect angel just to turn into my perfect slut , just for me to fuck -shit- isn't that right?” you nodded. “a good girl letting a bad guy like me ruin you for other men , you like that don't you?” he rubbed your clit. “all mine right?”

“al-all yours , pl-please sunghoon.” you moaned out , the headboard banging against the wall. “I'm gonna cum.” your cunt fluttering around him. “yeah? gonna cum all over my cock?” you dumbly nodded. “go ahead angel , cream my cock baby for me.” his pace didn't falter , his thrust deeper even as you came. “fuck that's a good girl , came so much for me -fuck- im gonna cum dove, where do you want it.”

“i-inside , pl-please cum inside me.” you were gonna be the death of him. “fuck baby , such a perfect pussy.” he groaned. “fuck im gonna cum.” his hips began to falter , he was losing it. “sh-shit , gonna cum inside you angel.” he let out a loud moan , cumming. “fuck!” he cursed , emptying himself inside you. “perfect angel , perfect.” he slowly stopped trusting, pulling out of you , his cock resting on your abused cunt. “good girl.”

“you can stay here.” you said as you both laid in bed. “and do what? wait around for you all day?” he scoffed , his arm around you. “if you get in trouble i won't be able to help again.” you pouted , he smirked. “then i won't get in trouble this time.” you frowned. “i'm serious.” you said. “listen dove, if it makes you feel any better; i'll come back here every night , and hold you just like this.” he kissed the side of your head , because he really did want to be with you , but giving up this life he was so used to wasn't gonna be easy. “what about in the morning?”

“i’ll be right here to wake my pretty angel up by eating her pretty pussy.”

©LUVYENI

[rationaliity]

cat parents | dr. ratio & aventurine

!! polyamory !!

caritas, poker, and snuggle.

anyone could tell who named what cat, and which cat cake was who's favorite.

.

caritas was veritas' favorite, the name being an old language word meaning ' love ' although he wouldn't really admit to it. he'd told you that the cat's original name - or rather, it's classification, was lambda's friend, with blue skin and black and white filling. but the cat cake had a little gold flower on the side of it's head, too, which reminded him of himself.

caritas loves to chat with the other cat cakes. its the kind of cat that makes friends with other really quickly, so it's always chatting with poker and snuggle about something throughout the day. their conversations can range from anything about how warm the bed is to the best spot in the living room to see the three of their owners dancing together in the kitchen with music while you were trying to make dinner.

ratio absolutely loved to note down their conversations whenever present. it surprised him that such a creature was so articulate, even able to properly express its desires. he'd concluded that the cat cakes had the intelligence of a young toddler with a rudimentary but understandable grasp on language. you and aventurine liked to tease him sometimes for treating the cat cakes as children sometimes, trying to teach them as a parent would, although this was something that ratio would deny wholeheartedly.

" they are an interesting new species. they are ruan mei's creations, and yet she doesn't seem to understand their full potential. i believe it's imperative that we study them and possibly teach them things they otherwise wouldn't know without our interventions, " ratio reasoned, while he was holding the little cat cake, cradling it like it was something precious to him.

.

poker was aventurine's, the name coming from one of his favorite card games to play, even though he rationalized it by saying that the cat was particularly swatty and liked to cause trouble by batting at things off of the edge of tables. " it likes to poke things until it drops off of the table, so the name poker makes sense, doesn't it ? " yeah, okay aventurine, whatever you say.

poker loved to meow in the dead of night and startle everyone out of sleep in the most inopportune times. ratio has a lecture early in the morning for the intelligentsia guild ? poker is making it's boredom everyone's problem. aventurine has a meeting with the other stonehearts ? oh boy, poker is right there sitting on his face meowing incessantly. if you've got something important to do, well, sorry to say you won't be getting very much sleep that night no matter how early you go to bed. it was bratty, sure, but it was ultimately just an average grey cat cake with nothing special about it, and seemed to have an overwhelming fear of being left alone.

no matter how annoying the cat cake was being that particular night, there was only one way to stop it from meowing. of course, ratio tried to reprimand it and teach it other ways to relieve its boredom at night, but nothing proved effective. you would just try to get it to calm down by playing with it for a little while, but that really only worked until you left it alone, and then it went right back to meowing. aventurine, however, had the magic touch. he would grab the cat cake and bring it into bed, and he would just.. talk to it. in a quiet voice, just chatting about whatever popped up into his head. he'd talk for an hour or more. sometimes it was about sigonia, sometimes it was about his job as a stoneheart. sometimes it was just different gambles and how he ended up winning them.

" so, of course, i had to prove that i was much more than he gave me credit for, " aventurine had been yapping for about an hour now, when he looked down at the cat cake in his arms and realized that it was sound asleep, purring against his chest. " ah, looks like i've done it again. you're welcome, you two. "

" thank you, 'churine, " you mumbled, half asleep as you leaned over to him and pressed a kiss on his cheek, your head falling back down to rest on his shoulder, already falling back asleep. ratio didn't say anything, and when aventurine looked over at him, he couldn't help but smile. he'd put ratio asleep while just chatting, too.

.

snuggle was your trash cake cat, and there was really no deeper meaning behind the name. it was a snuggly cat, and loved attention. loved anyone and everyone who was willing to give it attention. sometimes you would wake up with it resting on your chest, sometimes you would see ratio lazily carrying snuggle around, and other times aventurine was playing with it making it chase a feather around. snuggle was the attention whore of the trio.

snuggle loved to follow you wherever you walked, especially to the bathroom. whether you were getting ready for the day or just trying to spend a few minutes doing human business, you had a pair of eyes watching over your ever move, making sure that you were never far from its sight, almost like it was protective over you. you couldn't help but compare it to your two partners, lord knows how often they were checking up on you in their own ways. ratio wasn't afraid of shooting you a text whenever he had a free moment while you were away to make sure you were okay, and aventurine was constantly on the phone with you through his headpiece.

" snuggle, i'm just going to the bathroom ! it's okay, really- " you gently protested, earning a small mew from the cat cake as it followed behind you into the bathroom, sitting patiently at the doorway, waiting for you to get finished with your business.

" hey, darling, i'm home from work ~ guess who i dragged back home with me after his lecture. " aventurine called out for you almost immediately, followed by the quieter voice of ratio announcing his presence as well.

you rolled your eyes at your partners immediately calling for you, your heart swelling with love for them, washing your hands as you walked out of the bathroom, snuggle hot on your tracks. " welcome back, guys. all of the cat cakes have been taken care of, and i started dinner. "

" thank you, i'm sure dinner will be pleasant as always, " veritas hummed, his briefcase still in his hand as he leaned down to kiss you on your lips.

" what would we do without you ? " aventurine weaseled his way in between you two, mostly because he also wanted to get his after work love from you.

.

a chatty cat cake with more intelligence that it originally seemed, a cat cake that needed to be calmed down when everyone left it alone with its thoughts, and a protective cat cake that enjoyed attention and making sure that those around it was okay.

maybe these were the perfect cat cakes for you three.

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling

[Astarion x reader] The idea never left my mind, and I so very badly need this right now. Heavily inspired by this cutscene where Tav chooses a dialogue option and Astarion's eyes just deviate-- (gif above, just wait for his eyes to look at you WKDKWKDK) |Word count: 2k.| Based off of this post I made.

Part 2 here!!

Also, this is more heavy on the world building rather than dialogue. If I end up making this a series, I might write with more dialogue in mind but it was just necessary to do this first afhjaqfbnjkafbnebn--

A story in which an overworked art student longs for a fictional character that they've devoted so much of their time to.

Alternatively; Astarion realizes there's someone else watching him. And he can't wait to get acquainted with them.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

One.

Two.

Three.

It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 

You’ll admit, perhaps you were simply tired. Attending a prestigious school for the arts doesn’t exactly leave you with much free time to indulge in more calming forms of recreation. Your course requires you to consume a wide array of media to expand your library of creativity, after all. All in the name of generating more interesting media to entrance and enthrall your audience with your original work. 

Maybe all the moving pictures and swimming texts have caused you to greatly misunderstand what you are seeing. Surely, your favorite character isn’t looking directly at you, right?

Right?

But before that, let’s review what might have happened earlier to explain just what exactly in gods name is happening.

Shall we?

——

You purchased the game a few months back. “Baldur’s Gate 3.” A game that took the players and immersed them in the world of Dungeons & Dragons, introducing them to the mechanics of tabletop RPG as they did. It seemed interesting enough. And if the concept of character creation and storytelling didn’t sell you on the idea of it, the pretty faces on the cover certainly did.

So, with the little money you could spare from your part time job at your own institution’s library, and with what little sanity you had left to argue with, you impulsively bought said game. And it was fun. Exhilarating. Electrifying. 

Until you ran into a problem.

Astarion. The rogue, elven vampire that you have chosen to romance after careful deliberation. You scoffed to yourself. He was one of the biggest reasons why you purchased the blasted game at all. You’ve carefully studied the character in all his glory, from his striking carmine eyes and delicate unstained curls, to his aptitude for bloodshed and all manners of gore. He was such an interesting character, giving you more and more reason to pursue him as the story progressed. Yet the same can’t be said about your relationship with him. Or at least your “Tav’s” relationship with him. 

You’ve had some difficulty in deepening your relationship with the ex-magistrate. It seemed as if no matter what options you chose, no matter what manner of advances you made, he’d be quick to dismiss you. Painting you as a desperate little pup as he did. Denying you the opportunity of further knowing him. You’ve created and overwritten more save slots than you'd like to admit, perusing each one to select different lines of dialogue only to be rejected time and time again.

You thought it strange. But perhaps this was simply the way his route was meant to unfold. He was such an incredibly complex character after all. Perhaps this was meant to prove the party’s loyalty. 

But that didn’t stop you from being frustrated with other aspects of the gameplay. You've spent countless nights hunched on your work chair, back curving like a dead bug as you analyzed each and every possible outcome in combat. Eyes, bloodshot from cutting your sleeping hours short, just to endure the story until you were at an appropriate place to log out. And hair, flicking and curling out in different directions due to you weaving your hands through them in exasperation. 

You saw your reflection on your screen as it darkened to load the next scene and you couldn't help but stare at your character in slight envy. You know full well that however you designed them, it wouldn’t affect how the others perceived you, and yet you couldn’t help but pretty them up for your own interest. You designed it with yourself in mind, but making them far more attractive than you would ever be. Effortlessly beautiful as they stirred to wake up in the forest you settled in for camp.

How could Astarion ever turn this beautiful being away? If not for their heroism, then surely their looks would be enough to draw him in, no?

And speak of the devil. Once you could control your character again, you readied them to interact with your sharply dressed companion. Wanting to try your luck once more as the bright sun shone upon your character like a promise of a new day. Unfortunately, you’re greeted with a look of boredom, oh so familiar, that you sigh. “I hope you’re not here to beg—” Mocking him, echoing the words you’ve come to expect with faux mirth in your voice. But you cut yourself short when you realize he has yet to say anything. 

Strange.

 What’s even stranger is that he's just staring at you. Well,--- he’s staring at Tav. Your character.

“What the fuck…?” You move your mouse around, clicking to try and toggle the dialogue options to no avail, screen stuck in a cinematic close up of his face. Much like how the camera always pans when awaiting your response. 

However, unlike the common script of his actions that you’re used to, the one that you’ve memorized like a well practiced dance, his eyes smoothly glide off of your character and onto you. 

You freeze, but your heart doesn’t. The beating of your chest growing stronger the longer he looks at you. Eyes, blood red like rubies, boring into your own. He regards you, blinks, and then smiles that deviously charming smile of his before your screen turns dark. Your computer turns off, and you stare in shock of what just happened.

‘No fucking way, no fucking way, no fucking way—‘ You’re not delusional, right? Sure, you’re tired, but no fucking way did you just imagine one of the hottest characters you’ve seen in a while break the fourth wall just to fuck with you.

You laugh to yourself.

Yes, you’re just tired. Nothing like a good four hours of sleep can’t remedy. Although, as you get up from your chair, foolish as it may seem, you grab a used shirt from your floor, and hang it on your computer in the case that those piercing eyes come to life once again while you sleep.

——

You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you get ready for the day, you notice your dirtied clothing still on your computer. Covering it as if it were a petrifying doll from a horror movie. You feel childish for doing so, reasoning that you were simply stressed from the events that taken place prior and removed the cloth.

As you did, your screen was brought back to life. Showing you the next night as if your little "tryst" with Astarion never happened. An entire thirty minutes or so of progress seemingly gone. Thankfully, you saved just before your game went haywire and you attempted to load up your last slot. 

Zzzt Zzzzt!

Alas, your game was not cooperating once again. You tried the save just before that and the same error screen presented itself to you. ‘Maybe this is a sign that I should just fucking work instead.’ Irritated at the thought, you moved to log out of the game but a familiar voice convinces you otherwise as the screen returns to normal. 

“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” 

‘Is this— a romance scene?!’ Astarion had never initiated an interaction before! Perhaps the game gods were granting you mercy. Or maybe, something you did last night might have given way for this line of dialogue to open up. Regardless, you happily took the opportunity and began reading your choices.

“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” ━─━────༺༻────━─━

Well. Thank you.

It’s none of your concern, fangs.

Better now that you’re here.

What happened last night?

━─━────༺༻────━─━

What…did happen last night? You don’t recall anything past the blackening of your screen, but it looks like you did something after that which caused this dialogue.

You don’t want to squander this opportunity, who knows when this will happen again, but your curiosity gets the best of you. So you save, and choose option 4. 

“Oh, you poor thing. Spooked you, did I?” He laughs, seemingly taking in the look of confusion that graces both yours and Tav’s face.

“What do you think happened last night?”

“My fucking game crashed.” You answer automatically.

Tav moves to open their mouth but is silenced with a tut. “Not you, spawn.” His eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement, but the way his mouth is pulled in a tightly-lipped smile offers you further insight otherwise. 

“I need your answer.” His eyes are on you yet again, and you feel the world begin to spin.

——

You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you plan to get ready for the day, you notice you’re not exactly in a state to do so. You expected to wake at dawn, the dark and cool air to greet you as it fills your room and envelops your walls. Instead, you wake to see an endless amount of evergreen and the smell of the dark and damp grass beneath you filling your senses.

And if spending hours, weeks, months, of playing this damned game has taught you anything, you know that you now reside in the heart of the forest that you usually set up camp in. But this time, you're far from your bedroll and the fire that your party created.

One.

Two.

Three.

It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far to no avail. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 

And this chill so does love playing games.

You clamber away on your knees when you hear that deep chuckle of his emanate from right beside your ear. Creating as much distance to inspect this figure you’ve yet to face.

You see Astarion in all his vampiric glory. ‘Well, for a vampire spawn, I guess.’ You comment to yourself. Crimson eyes, darker than you imagined, with full, dark lashes contrasting his pallid skin and pure hair that glow under the moonlight. An unsettling, and cursedly attractive, smirk curls onto his lips. His ivory fangs on full display as he does.

“It seems as if those useless artifacts were worth something.” He marvels at his handiwork, his prize, and approaches it with confidence. 

“Well, your character certainly is more ‘prettied up.’” He circles you, carefully appraising his newest asset, and grins. “But you are far more intriguing.”

A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster.

“Although, you are very cute. Cheeky little pup, aren’t you?” He jests.

A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster which earns you a click of his tongue in response.

“You’re not broken, are you? Or am I to anticipate your little ‘what the fuck?’s as your only contribution?” Long, and incredibly masculine, fingers crawl and curl to grasp your chin like a spider. 

“I’ve waited months to have you. And now here you are, finally within my grasp.” The statement causes something to stir within you.

“What do you mean, ‘months?” 

He narrows his eyes, possibly trying to comprehend your stupidity.

“I’ve been watching you. Waiting, for the right moment. Interacting with this– caricature of yourself until you could deny yourself of me no more.” Blood rushes to your head. Your cheeks burning in embarrassment for seeming overly eager. And in panic as his intentions have yet to be cleared.

“And now that I’m here? Do you want to kill me?” You feel your heartbeat in your ears, awaiting his response. Your eyes wide in fear, yet trying to fake heroic bravado in the attempts to gain the upperhand.

And in this moment, he thinks you absolutely invigorating.

“Oh no, sweet pet. I’ve waited far too long for that. I’m going to make you mine.”

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Should I make this into a series? "The adventures of a misplaced artist in Baldur's Gate!!" Or something like that. Let me know, lol

[woso-dreamzzz]

Sharks V

Meadema x Child!Reader

Summary: It's your birthday

"This is a big thing, liefje," Mummy says to you, smoothing back your hair," And you have to promise me you can be responsible."

"I can!" You say.

You've just come back from your birthday party. Well, it was more like your birthday celebration. You didn't have enough friends for a party so Mummy and the Arsenal girls took you to the aquarium and Peanut and her mummies flew over from Spain to join you too.

You showed Peanut everything at the aquarium and she even gave you a whale shark that she and her mummies adopted for you that you could track anywhere in the world.

Mama couldn't come with you today and that was sad but she got you up this morning and made you a special birthday girl breakfast.

You missed her today at your celebration but Mummy's being very secretive and said that Mama's got a surprise for you.

You let Mummy take off your shoes and hang up your coat as Mama comes down the stairs.

"Mama!" You cry, running into her arms and letting her squeeze you nice and tight.

"Hey, liefje," She says," Did you have a good birthday?"

You nod. "Me and Peanut saw the seahorses."

"Wow, that sounds fun."

"Is it my surprise now?" You ask," Because Mummy said you couldn't come because you're making my surprise."

Mama laughs and nods. She covers your eyes with her hands and Mummy helps you up the stairs.

You have to concentrate really hard to work out where you're going. You know you've moved past the adult room and your one too but also the office. You think you're going into the spare room.

It's kind of like your play room but it's mostly empty.

"Okay," Mama says, sounding oddly excitable," Are you ready, birthday girl?"

You wiggle.

"Ready!"

"Okay, one, two, three!"

Mama takes her hands off your eyes.

The play room is different now. For one, the big light is off. You like that because you're not a fan of the big light in this room. It's too bright and it buzzes sometimes.

Instead, the only light is coming from the backdrop of the massive aquarium that's been moved in while you were away.

You're practically vibrating as you run over to it.

Mama's done a very good job because it's massive and takes up a lot of the room. There are plants and little hideaway caves and coral everywhere and you gasp when you spot the creature floating along the bottom.

"Wobbegong!" You exclaim, pressing your face up to the glass as close as possible without scaring it. "Mummy! It's a shark!"

Mummy laughs and nods. She doesn't seem to want to come any closer though. "Yeah, you're right. It is a shark."

You look between her and the wobbegong. It's not very big so you don't think it's very old yet. You kind of know how big adult wobbegongs get so you step back to look at the series of interconnecting tanks to see if it will be big enough.

It is.

You smile and point at it.

"Mama! You got me a shark!"

Mama, unlike Mummy, comes forward. "I did. Do you like it, liefje?"

"Love it!"

You giggle when Mama tickles your tummy and sends you on your way to thank Mummy too.

You know that Mummy doesn't really like sharks. She thinks a lot of them are scary looking so you don't make her come to you. You hug her really nicely though.

Mama drags a chair over so you can stand on it and see your shark better.

"Do you know any facts about wobbegongs, liefje?"

"Er..." You think for a second. "They're lazy 'cause they sleep all day and come out at night."

"Wow," Mama says," What else do you know?"

"The mummy wobbegongs don't lay eggs. They have live babies like people do."

"Very interesting. Are you going to give it a name? I don't know if it's a boy or a girl. Sorry, liefje."

"Hmm." You look at the shark, studying it closely.

"Carpet," You say.

Mummy laughs. She's still keeping her distance from it all but she's got her phone out and you think she's recording. "Why do you want to call it Carpet, liefje?"

"'Cause wobbegongs get called carpet sharks like how I get called liefje!"

Mama grins, stroking through your hair. "I think that's an excellent name."

"Mummy," You say," Can you send a picture of me and Carpet to Peanut's mummies?"

Mummy laughs. "Alright. Go on and pose and I'll take a picture."

"Peanut got me a shark in the wild and you and Mama got me a shark at home!" You say," This is the best birthday ever!"

[makos-ribcage]

Why did Ultraman had to be so cute? ㅡ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

[] - Reader x Kenji Sato. Kenji needs your help.

𓇼she/her

warning ! mentions of blood.

word count- 2k

so ultraman has been my latest hyperfixation so i really enjoyed writting this and even rewatched to make sure everything made sense, it ended up being less romantic as i intended so its mostly a piece of life sort of? i rlly like it anyways and will probably write a continuation.

Being friends with a celebrity was hard. You knew him from when he was little, so he trusted you a lot, to the point you knew stuff about him that made him less flattering than the media would make him look.

You were there for him when his mom disappeared and you were as heartbroken as he was, you had such admiration for her that the moment you got the devastating news you decided it right there, you were going to follow her steps and become a KDF scientist, study Kaijus and make the cities at least a bit safer.

It’s not like it was a surprising decision for anyone, since always you’ve showed interest for kaijus. You liked to study with Professor Sato when you visited Ken, you liked to ask him stuff and getting explanations probably no one else could. When you told Ken your decision though, he looked troubled for a few seconds, you were confused but he quickly changed his expression, smiling to you and letting out a “Good luck with that”.

After that, the following years just made you more inseparable, until he left. You tried to keep in touch, but it was hard. Not because y’all hated each other or lost interest but work and studies just kept getting harder for you, and playing and growing as a baseball player in a foreign country was getting harder for him. In despite of that, you kept touch with Professor Sato, him guiding you through your career is something you’ll be forever grateful for.

So, when Kenji came back to the country and didn’t told you anything definitely made you slightly mad, but you had hopes to hear an explanation coming from him soon.

What you didn’t expect was a call from him at 2am after weeks of knowing he was here yet not contacting with you.

“Look, I know It’s sudden.” The distortion in his voice quickly threw you off. “I know its 2am in the morning, but I need you here.” You remained silent for a few seconds, thinking what could possibly be going through his mind. “Please, I need you.” Before you could say anything, he hung up. You were worried. You saw in the news how Ken Sato didn’t show up to two games now, and apparently has been missing for months, just because of that, you were actually going to drive to the other side of the city.

The location to his home wasn’t unknown, but it was remote and hard to get in, but you managed to get in time. The sky was cloudy, the night was dark and cold, and you were glad you were driving a car and not that damned motorcycle of him, on top of that, the disappearing bridge connecting his home with the city made you a bit scared.

A smart gate let you in, somehow knowing you were you. You knew a lot about technology thanks to your job, but Sato’s residence always were a few steps ahead, given the fact that both parents used to be scientifics.

You parked near the door, stepping out of the car and walking to the house. It was quiet and it spooked you a little bit.

You were unsure as if you should knock the door, they knew you were there from the gate, but you still did.

“Come on in!” Hearing it in person the voice sounded more distorted, you knew it was him, but it sounded distant, loud and robotic.

You opened the door, stepping inside and closing it behind you, a big empty living room welcomed you.

“Uh… I know it’s… Hard to understand, and I know you hate him, and…” You heard his voice again, this time coming from what seemed speakers around the house.

“Hate him? Who?” You questioned, even though you weren’t sure he could hear you.

“Just Imma need you to keep it as a secret, and don’t freak out!” He seemed to be stumbling on his own words. You saw an elevator come out of the floor, you didn’t question it much and just stepped in, feeling a bit dizzy as it went down.

“You’re the only smart person I know… And I’ll be in a lot of trouble if you decide to speak ‘bout it, but I trust you.” You weren’t hearing him through the speakers anymore, yet he sounded loud. “I need you to not yell me, judge me, or be mad at me, just help me.” Every time he said anything, it made you more confused, what could be so bad?

One of the walls of the elevator raised, letting you get out of it.

And you saw him. Ultraman.

“Surprise…” You heard Sato’s voice coming out of him.

He was crouching because of the tall walls, not tall enough for him though.

“Ah… You’ve got to be kidding me.” You whispered, feeling surprised and annoyed at the same time.

The little big asshole who was ruining any time the KDF tried to capture kaijus was your childhood best friend.

The arrogant giant who would destroy apartments instead of safely getting kaijus out of the city was a famous baseball player.

And you knew him too well, enough for him to tell you who he was, and now you had to help him and keep his identity a secret.

“I wish I was…” You heard him whisper, though whispering at that size didn’t count as a whisper. “I can’t turn back. I’m stuck.” He explained, you walked closer to him, and he sat down crossed leg, not needing to crouch anymore.

“That’s why you didn’t went to your games?” You asked, he drew a hand near you, palms up, he wanted you to step on it.

You hesitated, a bit scared of heights, but did it anyways. You sat on his palm, legs crossed as well, and he held you with both hands.

“And what do you want me to do?” You questioned, having mixed feelings about if you were helping your best friend or the reason of your headaches at work.

“I don’t know… You know a lot about kaijus, I’m basically the same.” He was not, both of you knew that, but whatever. “Please…” He gave you what seemed to be puppy eyes, even though you could only see white pupils.

“I’ll see what I can do… You still got your dad’s stuff?” You asked, he nodded. “Mina?”  He called, and the little ball assistant appeared, with said stuff literally coming from the floor.

Complicated machines, complicated tools, some similar to the ones you’ll see at work, some you’ve never seen before but you guessed you’ll have to figure out.

“Alright… Put me down, I guess.”

You made him a simple blood test. Finding veins on such body was hard, trying to identify anything on the blood sample was harder.

“So… What are you? A machine? A monster?” You asked, both out of curiosity and because it could help you figure out what happened to him.

“I’m not sure… My dad told me we are like… Aliens, or used to be, at least.” He explained.

“Well, some kaijus come from the space.” You started. “Maybe you are closer to kaijus than you think.” He seemed to think about it for a while, you knew how he struggled to see kaijus as anything else than soulless monsters.

“Mina, can you check this, please?” You told her, giving her the blood sample. She took it and left.

You stared at him, with a mix of confusion and aweness.

“See something you like? Hm?” He said with a flirty voice. You laughed.

“Not yet, ask me again when you’re Kenji and not Ultraman” You flirted back, making him slightly surprised.

Mina came back, with a piece of paper that noted anything found. A bunch of cells you didn’t knew, probably part of his alien side, but you recognized something.

A common virus found on some kaijus that made them incapable of controlling their powers, which seemed to be what was happening to him.

“Alright… How do I get rid of it?” He asked once you explained the situation, you could see the desperation in his eyes.

“Well… We don’t really cure kaijus when they’re sick, and we can’t treat it like a normal virus since you’re humongous and can’t drink or eat…” You thought, sitting on the floor, feeling his puppy eyes back on you. “Kaijus can usually get rid of the viruses by themselves, so if we can mimic kaijus antibodies, you might be able to do the same.” You explained, and he agreed, just wanting to get out of the situation.

You were a bit worried his body couldn’t handle it, but you trusted that his alien-self would do the work.

You gave the indications to Mina; you were lucky she had Professor Sato knowledge on her.

You modified Kenji’s blood so it would produce the antibodies that were needed.

“So… I reprogrammed your cells to produce what we need, kind of like a cancer.” The word spooked him, but he trusted you.

Mina set everything up for the blood transfusion.

“Alright… I hope you understand this is risky” You muttered to him, trying to prepare his arm. “Gosh, you’re huge…”

“I know, just hurry up.” You heard him say, hints of normal Kenji voice behind the <<robotic>> filter that it gave his voice. You stared up to him a bit annoyed by his rushing. “And… You’re the best scientist I know, so please help me.” You blushed slightly, shaking your head.

“Thank you, I guess.” You whispered, feeling those uncanny white pupils on you. “Alright… Here I go…” With the help of Mina once again, you started the process. “Let me know If you feel something…” You told him, staring at him worried it might go all wrong.

You sat down with him, on one of his thighs, waiting for it to have any effect.

“So… You’re Ultraman” You stared at him. He simply shrugged, not seeming to be too happy about it. “I’m guessing that’s why you came back from America.” He nodded, not elaborating any further.

“I’m sorry… I know I’ve been causing trouble to… Ya’ll” You knew what he was referring to, the KDF.

"It's okay... You should start doing better, though. It's difficult relocating people and fixing buildings and...” You scolded him, both because you were right and because you enjoyed annoying him, and you knew you succeeded when he sighed audibly.

“I know, I know! I'm trying, alright?" You laughed slightly, him laughing back when he noticed you were just playing with him, even if there was a piece of truth behind your words.

“You know?... I missed you, I was sad you didn’t call me” You whispered, probably feeling less exposed since he didn’t looked like Kenji, you were sure you were going to regret it, but it was late at night and you were tired. You let yourself lay down, still on top of his thigh. “Oh, you did?” You heard him, somehow, hearing his smile. “I’m sorry, I thought you were mad.” He whispered, realizing you were falling asleep.

“And I was… You could still have called me, though.” You whispered back.

You woke up hours later, feeling the harsh floor under you, with the warmth of arms around you. Blinking slowly trying to adjust to the light, looking up to see Kenji in a deep sleep, hugging you tightly.

You blushed, freezing in your place unsure of what to do. “K-Ken…” You called up to him, trying to squeeze yourself free.

“Ngh… Five mins’ more…” He whispered, raspy morning voice getting to your ears as he hugged you tighter. Suddenly he opened his eyes. “You’re not small anymore!” He exclaimed, happily. “I’m not huge!” He stood up, taking you with him. “You saved me!” He hugged you tightly. “Thank you!” He grabbed you by the shoulders, staring into your eyes with a huge smile on his face. You blushed. Why did Ultraman had to be so cute? “Coach is going to kill me.” He said suddenly, running towards the elevator you came from.

“Kenji…” You called, annoyed that he was leaving you just like that.

“A-Ah… I’ll take you to dinner, yes? Tonkatsu Toki. 7pm. I’ll pick you up.” He didn’t let you answer and just left.

-----

-tags

@luneariaa @aise-30 @kalsplace

[azriels-shadowsinger]

“All you do is push me away. I'm done. Whatever this is, it's done.”

Azriel x Reader

wc: 2.3k

a/n: responding to this request. sorry this took forever, i started my new job this week! also, thank you for 400 followers!!

prompt list

“It will be fine, y/n!” Feyre reassures, rubbing a gentle hand down your back. You bite your lip anxiously.

“I don't know, Fey. It's already awkward enough trying to introduce my boyfriend to the high lord and lady, the general, and scariest of all, Amren.” You chuckle. “But seriously, I’m even more worried about Azriel. He’s been so weird and distant since we ended our... situationship?” You sigh heavily. “Whatever it was, he got all weird when it ended. I’m worried he’s gonna make tonight weird.” You whine.

“Rhys already talked to him. Azriel promised to be welcoming.” Feyre reassures

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You grumble. Truthfully, you knew very little about your new boyfriend, Wesley, and you had no idea how he would behave around your friends, but when Cassian caught you on a second date and blabbed about your new boyfriend to everyone, you had no choice but to introduce him to the group. Hopefully, Feyre was right that everything would be fine.

———

Everyone at the table was visibly uncomfortable, thanks to Azriel. He had spent the first half of dinner in a very tense silence, ignoring everyone’s attempts to interact with him. He only responded with mocking laughs under his breath at every other thing Wesley said. Rhys had tried to speak to Azriel in his mind, Feyre told you, but his walls were up and he refused to drop them.

You thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, but once the final course came out, Azriel switched from chilling silence to obnoxiously challenging everything you or Wesley said. You were going to kill him.

“So what do you do for fun, Wesley?” Feyre asks, attempting to alleviate tension.

“Uh, I like studying history.” He answers quietly. Azriel chokes down a laugh, and you internally groan at the most boring answer he could’ve chosen.

“Hm, that's weird y/n. I thought your usual type was...” Azriel eyes Wesley with distaste “much different.” You scowl at Azriel.

“I don’t have a type, Azriel.” You say defensively. “And if I did, it would be Wesley.”

“Sure it would.” He says smugly. “I seem to recall you have a preference for tougher guys, specifically Illyrians-“

“That is enough, Az.” Rhys commands, cutting Azriel off and using his high lord voice. Everyone sits quietly, not sure what to say next.

“I think I should leave.” Wesley says uncomfortably, breaking the silence and moving to stand. “Goodnight everyone, it was wonderful to meet you all.” He says with a forced smile before heading towards the door. You hurry after him, heels clicking loudly on the floor.

“Wes, please stay! There’s dessert, and I promise it won't be as awkward. I’ll make him leave.” You beg once you two are out of earshot.

“Don’t bother. You didn’t tell me you used to date him. That would’ve been great information to have going into tonight.”

“We never-“ he cuts you off.

“Save it. I have no interest in competing with the fucking spymaster. You are not worth the effort.” You visibly flinch at the harsh words and tears begin to form in your eyes, as he turns away. “I’ll see you around.” He mutters and leaves.

———

When you return to the dining room, Azriel is sitting there with a victorious smirk on his face, eating his dessert. One look at the rage in your eyes, and everyone else had the bright idea to leave you two alone.

“Are you happy now?” You holler.

“Kinda, yeah.” He says smugly. You let out a frustrated groan.

“You spiteful, ignorant, selfish male!” He laughs slightly at your outburst.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? Could Wesley not take a little joke?” He grins.

“He broke up with me because of your gods damn immaturity!”

“Good. You can do better, he doesn’t deserve you.” Azriel replies nonchalantly.

“What the hell is your problem? Is this because I ended things between us?” That causes him to freeze, dropping any amusement from his face.

“No.”

“It is, isnt it? Well guess who’s fault that was! You don’t date, you told me so yourself. And any time I tried to get closer to you, you put up walls and shut me out.“ you let out an exasperated sigh. “Even now, all you do is push me away. So you know what Azriel? I'm done. Whatever this is, it's done.”

“There’s nothing to end, we aren’t dating. We aren't even fucking anymore.” He spits coldly, but you see the hurt lacing his features, matching your own.

“Yeah, I got that. Loud and clear.” You murmur. “Stay the hell away from me from now on.” You growl before exiting the room, leaving Azriel alone.

———

You had not so much as looked at him in three weeks, and it was driving Azriel crazy. He had assumed that with your now ex-boyfriend out of the way, you would eventually turn to him to resume your previous friends-with-benefits situation. He couldn’t help but miss your company.

Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys sat around the table at Rita’s drinking whiskey. As soon as Azriel began complaining about you again, Cassian rolled his eyes, finished his glass of whiskey, and stood up.

“I’m tired of hearing about this every damn day. I’m getting another drink.” He grumbles.

Azriel wasn’t sure why he was bothered so damn much that you were avoiding him. Sure, he had plenty of females offering him pleasure every time he went out in Velaris, there were two eyeing him from across the bar right now, but he didn’t want them.

“Honestly, what I miss most about her isn’t even the sex.” Azriel admits, slurring his words slightly as the alcohol takes effect in his system. Rhysand’s ears perk up at this admission. Previously, Azriel had only ever admitted to missing the consistent sex or complained that you were overreacting, but this was new. Rhys wondered if Azriel even realized what he was saying.

“What do you mean, brother?” Rhys probes.

“I miss the nights we spent talking. And how somehow she managed to know exactly what I needed, without me having to say it.” Azriel downs the rest of his drink. “I just want things to go back to the way they were. Like when she would fall asleep next to me and I would actually be able to quiet my mind enough for once to fall asleep too. Or when she smiled and I felt all warm inside. I don’t even know why I shut her out when she asked about becoming more. Maybe because it scares me.” Azriel prattles on, talking to himself more than Rhys.

“You love her, you idiot.” Rhys states, which immediately pulls Azriel’s focus.

“That’s not… don’t do that Rhys. Don’t put shit into my head.” Azriel says defensively. Cassian returns with another round of whiskey for everyone.

“What did Rhys do?” Cassian asks casually as he passes a glass to each of his brothers.

“I informed Az that he’s in love with y/n.” Rhys smirks and sips his whiskey.

“I’m not-“ Cassian cuts Azriel off.

“You totally are!” Cassian laughs. Azriel huffs out a breath and downs his whiskey in one big swallow. There was no use arguing with his brothers once their minds were made up.

“I gotta go.” Azriel mumbles and storms out the door. Rhys and Cass just exchange knowing glances.

———

You hear someone banging on your door late that evening. You want to say you’re surprised to see Azriel when you open the door, but no one else would bother you this time of night. You just look at him expectantly, waiting to hear what he has to say.

“I was wrong before. I should've never pushed you away when you said you wanted more. I was just scared of how I felt and scared of getting hurt by you. I’m sorry for being a dick and I’m sorry for ruining that dinner with your ex-boyfriend, I just couldn’t stand to see you with someone else. Please, give me another shot.” Azriel has such a hopeful look in his eyes, waiting for your answer.

“I told you I was done.” You say, trying your hardest to stay calm and collected.

“But I-“ he takes a deep breath. “But I love you. Please, give me a chance to make things right.” You pause, mind reeling at the admission. As much as you want to admit the same thing, you can’t afford to get hurt by him again, so you do your best to calm your racing heart and force the words out.

“It’s too late, Azriel. I’m sorry.” You shut the door quickly before you can give in, immediately letting your tears fall once it's closed.

———

More weeks passed, and you eventually decided that you had to stop wallowing in self-pity and try to move on again. Wesley might have not been the one for you, but surely someone out there is.

You had decided to go out to Rita’s with Mor and eventually found a decently nice male to talk to. You two chatted for a while, and as the end of the night drew closer, you decided to shoot your shot.

“So, I don’t really do this, but do you wanna come home with me?” You ask the male nervously.” The lights of the bar turn on, indicating that it’s closing time.

“Yeah I-“ he pauses, looking you over. His eyes go wide and he backs away. “No. I can’t go home with you. I should’ve never talked to you.” He hurries off quickly, almost seeming frightened.

You turn towards Mor with a confused look, trying to ignore the hurt you feel from the harsh rejection. Did you really look that different with the lights on, you wonder.

The next day, you were in your room telling Feyre about the night before, trying to understand what went wrong.

“I don’t get it, Fey. We were having such a nice conversation. I was sure that he would agree to come home with me. But as soon as the lights came on and he saw me, he ran off. I didn’t think I looked that bad in the light.” You complain, flopping back onto your bed. Feyre choked on her drink for a moment, seeming startled.

“He didn’t…” she mutters to herself, shaking her head.

“What?” You sit up, confused. Feyre gets a far-off expression, likely speaking to Rhys in her mind about something. “What is it Feyre?” You ask curiously. She groans.

“The other day I overheard Az and Rhys talking, and Azriel made a joke about how he could just threaten all the males in Velaris that they can’t go anywhere near you. I assumed he was kidding, but I just asked Rhys about it, and apparently he wasn’t.” Feyre explains awkwardly.

“Are you kidding me?” You yell as you shoot up off the bed and storm out your door, muttering some apology to Feyre about having to leave.

———

You put a city-wide ban on dating me?” You scream angrily as you storm into Azriel’s room, not bothering to knock.

“Yeah, I did.” Azriel smirks at you.

“What the fuck Azriel? You don't have some claim over me! Call it off.” You shout.

“No.” His firm, unyielding voice gives you goosebumps.

“Stop it with the territorial male bullshit. It won’t change anything, so call it off!” You try to keep up the anger in your voice, but as Azriel stalks closer, you lose your boldness.

“I’m not calling it off.” His voice is dangerously low.

“Why not?” You mutter. Azriel leans closer.

“Because eventually you will realize that you still want to be with me, and when you do I don’t want anyone getting in the way of that.” He whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver slightly.

“I told you before. I’m done.” You try to sound confident, but it doesn’t come out quite right.

“Sure you are. Whenever you decide you wanna change that answer, I’ll be here.” He says with a wink. As you leave you feel conflicted. This may be the most territorial male bullshit you have ever witnessed, but you can’t help but smile slightly, realizing that Azriel basically just publicly announced his feelings toward you.

———

You lasted two days without returning to visit Azriel. You had told yourself it was to yell at him some more, but deep down you knew it wasn’t. Azriel opens his door after hearing you knock and looks genuinely surprised to see you.

“You win. You managed to scare off any decent male in Velaris. So congrats, I’m all yours.” You concede reluctantly.

“It was never about winning, sweetheart.” He shuts the door behind you, caging you between him and the door. You look up at him earnestly.

“Then what was it about?” You ask.

“It’s about getting a second chance to prove to you that I was an idiot. It’s about the fact that I will spend every single day for the rest of my existence trying to prove to you that I love you, and praying to the Mother that you decide to let me show you.” He whispers, leaning closer. You look up at him, seeing that hopeful look in his eyes again.

“Just one more chance?” Your voice comes out so soft he almost doesn’t hear you.

“One more chance, I promise that’s all I’ll need. I don’t plan on ever doing anything to mess it up again.” He answers sincerely.

“Okay then.” He doesn’t get a moment to process that you agreed before you pull his face towards yours, closing the gap between your lips. He immediately pulls your body into his and runs his hands through your hair.

“Thank the gods.” He murmurs into the kiss. You pull away for a moment.

“By the way, I love you too, Az.”

yes that last little bit about the dating ban was inspired by the deal by elle kennedy, but i just thought that was so funny and i believe without a doubt that Az could threaten all of Velaris to stay away from you

prompt list

taglist: @fxckmiup

[mattslolita]

plane to paris - c. sturniolo

in which ... having been in love with him for years, you confess your undying affection for chris just moments before you meet your demise. ( best friend!chris x black!fem!reader )

warnings ; pure sadness, mentions of death, angst, crying

"𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒏' 𝒐𝒏 𝒂 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒔𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

"now boarding, paris, france at gate seven."

you sighed gently, checking your pocket to make sure that your passport and plane ticket were present — this art gala in which you were invited to showcase your own art would be an amazing experience, as well as a much needed vacation from the things you faced at home. the life surrounding your best friends was something they loved you to be apart of, but you couldn't shake the suffocating feeling it gave you. of course, it didn't necessarily have anything to do with their fame — the problem is between you and your best friend chris. but honestly speaking? this problem had grown when you made the mistake of slowly falling in love with him over the years.

anybody with eyes and common sense could see how you cared for chris — everyone except himself. you'd follow him blindly to the ends of the earth like the lovesick young girl you had been, and over time you learned to hide it from everyone; you lied, saying it was a silly crush that you had eventually grown out of. but you couldn't lie to yourself — you would always love chris.

taking one last look at the airport, you get your passport and ticket scanned, then hurriedly walk past the gate. pausing just briefly, you look up and examine the delta airlines with its door open, urging you forward. just then, you feel a wave of uncertainty — something inside was telling you that things were a little off; you quite possible could have been about to make a mistake. but your heart was telling you that for once, you needed a break from the seemingly never ending unrequited love cycle you fell into with chris.

once on the plane, you walked down the row until you reached your designated seat — you hoisted your bags overhead of you just as a sweet looking older woman came to reside next to you, carrying nothing but a pocketbook and gold fountain pen. you take the window seat and she casts you a warm smile as she sits down next to you.

"and what takes you to paris, my dear?" the woman asks you, her eyes twinkling curiously as she studies you.

"oh, um there's an art gala that i'm supposed to be attending," you explain to her, "they're gonna present my art, too."

"that's just wonderful!" the woman smiles, but she tilts her head at you, "and you're going alone? no handsome young man will accompany you?"

you laugh sadly, shaking your head. "i'm afraid i'll be making this trip by myself."

she nods to you in content, and that's when you notice she takes her pocketbook out as well as the fountain pen, which piques your interest. "may i ask what you're writing?"

"why, today's no better time but to write my will," the older woman tells you. as she looks into your eyes, you notice a glimmer in them, sparking up the uncertainty you felt moments before you boarded the plane.

you nod in understanding, deciding to take your phone out of your pocket — opening instagram, you snap a quick picture and caption it 'taking off.' you added the location of the boston airport then posted it to your story, letting out a small breath; then you took your airpods out and clicked shuffle on a playlust, enjoying the music that flowed throughout your ears, as the plane ascended into the sky.

chris sturniolo had finally been able to have a break from his job, and he and his brothers decided they would come back to boston to visit their parents and best friends — nathan doe and y/n l/n were chris's best friends who lived in their hometown, and he didn't get to see them as much anymore.

truth be told he missed the days of their youth when they'd spend every day attached to each other's hips; chris and y/n were thick as thieves, and he missed his partner in crime — her smile, her laugh, the usual box braids she wore with the charms he helped put in her hair, the way she could walk into a room and instantly make those around her happier, her artistic nature...

unfortunately though when chris had arrived with his brothers at nate's house, he informed them about your art gala in paris that would display your art. he couldn't be happier for you, as he knew art was one of your greatest passions — he just wished he'd had the chance to say goodbye and good luck to you before you departed.

when you and chris were twelve years old, your father up and left out of the blue one night; the next morning, you found a note he wrote to you — he ended it saying 'this isn't a goodbye, y/n. i'll see you later.' from then on whenever you and chris departed from each other, you never said goodbye — it was always see you later.

chris, his brothers, and nate currently resided on nate's living room couch to watch the celtics basketball game that was taking place at the moment. if you had been there watching with them, you would've been laughing with nick about how overdramatic nate, chris, and matt were being. he smiled at the thought, picking his phone up from the side of him as the game continued.

he opened instagram, and your story popped up first much to his relief — a picture of the wing of the delta airline plane stared back at him, as well as the caption 'taking off' with a white heart residing next to it. chris smiles and presses a like to the story, silently hoping that you smiled at the notification.

just then a strange feeling tugs at chris's heart; and he realizes he'll be missing you longer than he thought.

he reaches for the remote that sits on the dining table in front of the four boys, causing nate to furrow his eyebrows at the boy. "c'mon man, what're you doin?"

"m'just turning it up some," chris explains.

his finger however misses the volume button and lands on the channel one instead, causing nate and matt to groan furiously as it switches to the news.

"dude, you just-"

"hold on, quiet for a sec," chris says suddenly as his eyes find themselves glued to the headline staring back at him.

"just in about an hour earlier, delta airlines plane to paris catches fire and crashes just before reaching new york. no information yet on what caused the fire, but the innocent lives of 200 passengers including the plane's captain had been lost today on this tragic afternoon."

chris feels his heart drop and sink to his knees, frozen in place as tears fill his vision, blurring his waterline — matt is quick to get up and curse profanities as tears stream down his face, whilst he shakes his head; nick cries to their parents on the phone, telling them that it wasn't fair; nate babbles about how it couldn't be y/n's plane from boston as tears cascade down his cheeks.

chris can hardly breathe in this moment, hearing his heart beat wildly in his eardrums — no, he refused it. there was just no way that she was gone. he wanted to sue boston airport for allowing a faulty plane the permission to even take off.

how could they take off with you on that plane?

it wasn't fair — you were so good, so pure at heart. you had an amazing soul, always helping and giving to those around you whether it was monetary or as simple as a much needed hug. and oh, the way you loved — you loved people with such a strong force that anyone around you could feel the aura, could see the love you projected. chris has witnessed it more times than he can count.

he knew it because of the way you loved him — and for so long, chris wanted to love you with the same force you loved him.

a ding from chris's phone causes him to look at the cellular device in disdain, expecting either his parents or your mother to have been calling him — what he didn't except, was to see a voicemail.

from your number, that only just came through.

"she called me?" chris whispers, his voice cracked and barely audible, but it was enough to make nick, matt, and nate stop in their tracks. chris hesitantly presses play on the recording, holding the phone to his ear has his glossy eyes remain glued to the tv screen in front of him.

"hi, chris.

before i got on this plane, i sensed this weird feeling that i can't really explain for some reason. originally i was gonna facetime the groupchat when i landed, but then i looked over to my sweet older lady friend next to me, and she was writing her will. and it made me realize tomorrow isn't promised so if i don't say something now, you might never know it.

i love you, chris. more than you'll ever know, and not in the way of just friends. i'm in love with you, and i have been since we were kids. i'm not sure that i always did a good job at hiding it, since nick and nate used to tease me about it for the longest. matt would too, but he was definitely understanding about it. they were always telling me that i needed to confess to you, but i was too scared to ruin our friendship and lose you altogether. and besides, i'm almost certain that the way you loved me was strictly platonic. i want you to know that i would never get mad at you for not reciprocating it, because you can't force what you don't feel.

if by a miracle though you did feel the same at some point, i understand how difficult i probably made it for you to want to express your feelings to me. i've always been extremely happy for you and your past girlfriends because even if it wasn't with me, one thing i always wanted was for you to be happy, no matter what. i'm so thankful to have you as my best friend, and i wouldn't trade you for the world. even if i have to do it in silence, i will be in love with you till i die, and even after.

mon amour, je suis tellement désolée merci de me faire sentir aimée je sais que j'ai besoin de toi je t'aime pour toujours je promets que ce n'est pas un au revoir

i'll see you later, chris."

( lilly's section 💌 )

this is my sign to stop listening to plane to paris on repeat😭🙏 but i absolutely love nessa DOWNNN so yeah. i really hope y'all liked this fic ! muah, i love you all always. 💌

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @mrssturnioloo @mattsturniolosleftnut @sturnprime @thenickgirl @guccifrog @nickgetsmewetter @eyeliketoeatpoosay @e1ias3 @sp3aknaur @middlepartmatt @summerssover @riasturns @sturn777 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @pinksturniolo @chrissturniolossidehoe @chris-slut @hoesformatt @raysmayhem-72 @lanas-doll @chrisssluttywaist @mbbsgf @jetaimevous @chaossturns @cottoncandyswisherz @oliviasturniolo21

[piracytheorist]

The Briar Siblings' Lies

It's very interesting that in the family of lies and secrets, the lies of the Briar siblings are included, and I'm pretty sure that will play a role whenever they find out about each other.

I expect Yor to be heartbroken and angry at Loid when she'll find out his lies, but I'd also expect her to be heartbroken and disappointed when she finds out how much Yuri lied to her.

Yor might have kept her own very dangerous secrets, but there are huge differences in their circumstances.

Yor took up her assassin gig when she was just a teenager, orphaned and with a little brother to take care of. Amidst the cold war brewing, there would be various criminal organizations looking for people to drag in, and a poor, desperate, kind, and almost supernaturally strong teenage girl was the perfect recruit for Garden.

Whether this is Garden's initiative or not, Yor has a strong determination to kill her targets as quickly and as painlessly as possible, along with avoiding unnecessary bloodshed. She has studied human anatomy specifically for this very reason, to be able to kill her victims with mercy. She's realistic about the situations she's in, but if talking things through is even a tiny bit possible, she'll give it a try.

Though her morals are slightly skewed for the average civilian - it's understandable to kill someone in self defense, but her main targets are situations where she plays judge, jury and executioner - she's still retained a lot of her humanity that allows her to be a kind person and a caring sister, mother and wife.

And then you have Yuri.

Yuri fell victim to a more sinister kind of indoctrination - extremism and bigotry. Having grown up in poverty caused by the war and the deaths of his parents, and having an overwhelming wish to protect his sister, he was the perfect target for Ostania's nationalistic propaganda.

But the tragic background leading up to this choice and the want to protect his family is where his similarities with Yor's case end.

Yuri wasn't left with no other choices. Yor was already supporting him financially when he started working for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and that was a job that he could stay at and be independent. He was older than Yor was when she became an assassin. I can assume that some underhanded methods were used to lead him into the duties of the SSS, but even so Yuri had more control of the situation, more choices to choose from, and more information at hand. It's directly opposite to Yor's circumstances.

Yuri tortures people. The SSS specifically want him, despite his young age and lack of experience, exactly because he won't hold anything back, even when it makes him feel conflicted.

The SSS may be taking advantage of the ease with which he tortures people, but it's still something Yuri willingly participates in - and again, considering the fame of the SSS among civilians, it's almost certain Yuri knew what he was getting into. He's giving up his own humanity, going down a path of "us vs. them" and while Yor plays judge on who gets to live, Yuri plays judge on who gets to be treated like a human being.

While two similarly dangerous and demanding professions, and (at least according to what Franky says) following the same government's orders, it's two highly different cases. I think Yuri will be mostly horrified to learn what Yor went through for his sake, but Yor will be very understandably heartbroken. Yuri could understand that Yor had no other choice, but Yor will know that Yuri had all the best choices right in front of him, and yet he chose this.

And it's why I believe this is the revelation that will hurt Yor more. She could explain Twilight's lies by the fact that they didn't know each other before, she could explain Anya's secrets by her young age and innocence, but there will be very little for Yuri to stand on - and the thing is, Yuri knows that. He knows that what he's chosen to become isn't what Yor raised him to be.

Currently he may be seeing himself as a martyr for his cause, that he needed to potentially break his sister's heart in order to protect her and "the country she lives in". He'd rather have her feeling heartbroken and betrayed by him than with her life and safety in danger. He'd rather her hate him than get hurt.

How will it hit him when he realizes she's already been doing the same for him, and has already been endangering her life for over a decade for not only his sake, but for the world in general too? When he realizes all the work he's been doing to protect her was in vain because she has been walking into danger herself all along?

It's a really interesting dynamic, because the revelation could either break them or make them. They both have a very heartwarming background together, they both love each other deeply, but it's a trial they'll both have to go through at some point.

(Anime only fan here, don't spoil me for the manga)

[thewulf]

Sir || Aaron Hotchner

Request: Do you think you could do a Hotch x ADHD reader where they are energetic and talkative all day since Aaron came back from a tough case. With the constant questions and comments Aaron gets irritated due to stress and says something like “can you be quiet for 5 seconds please” or “enough with the stupid questions, it’s annoying” and the reader ends up talking less with him and only responds with short answers and they try to suppress their ADHD ticks around him.

A/N: Well, I couldn't sleep on the plane home yesterday and I found a surge of inspo! Had so much fun writing this one. I just adore Hotch! Thanks for the request! @ghostridrr

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 3.9k +

You’d never expected to be dating an FBI agent nonetheless fall hopelessly head over heels for the guy in a matter of months. Coming from humble beginnings in a small southern town. Not many people made it out, but you did. You were determined. Determined to get the hell out and never look back. So, you did. You made it happen. Working your ass off through college becoming a civil engineer and finding a job at a firm in Washington DC you quickly found your groove. You worked your way up from an engineer to a manager to a project manager within ten years. Loving your job meant giving your all which didn’t leave much time for your personal life nor a love life. It’s not like you hadn’t tried you were just busy.

 It all hit you on your birthday that you wanted more. You wanted a partner. You wanted to have a life with somebody. For years you put in effort to try. Dating good guys and shitty ones alike. You were about to give it up for good after the years of trying. But the universe had a different plan for you.

It all started so casually on a sunny Monday morning at Quantico. Your firm had been contracted out to completely renovate the old Quantico offices and bring them into the 21st century. You’d absolutely fallen in love with your job, the project manager, over the course of the six months. Between working with the clients, budgeting, staging, and executing the demo and construction you’d found loved. It was the perfect job that kept your busy brain occupied and constantly moving. Always showing up to work with a big cheesy smile on your face and ending the day with an inevitable streak of dirt across your shirt or jeans.

Everything went so smoothly until your crew moved up to the sixth floor. The BAU. Whatever the hell that is. Apparently, nobody had warned the boss man and he wasn’t too thrilled to say the least. You were used to working around the residents of the floor, but this wasn’t starting out to great considering your crew would be working on the floor for the next few months.

“What the hell is all this? Why is there tarp in my conference room?” A strong voice broke you from the planning board you were reviewing with your construction Forman, Eric.

Snapping your head around you made eye contact with possibly the most handsome man you’d ever seen. Of fucking course he had to be hot as hell. This was certainly going to make things way more interesting for you.

Putting on your best smile you slowly walked over to him, hardhat and high visibility vest and all, “I’m so sorry sir. I thought somebody from your leadership would’ve informed you. My crew is starting some demo and renovations on this floor today. We’ll do our best to keep the noise down, but we might have to kick you out of a few spots every now and then.” Trying your best to charm the man with a big smile you only felt intimated when he simply just looked at you. As if he was studying you. Not frowning, not smiling, stoic as hell. You involuntarily took a step back. Intimidating the hell out of you.

He must’ve picked up on your discomfort as his straight-faced gaze softened ever so slightly. He pinched the bridge of his nose as you cocked your head to the side observing him. He must’ve been choosing his words very carefully.

“I don’t have time for this today. I’m sorry.” He sighed in clear frustration. A real frustration you’d seen time and time again on the job.

You frowned. Annoyed at his leadership for failing to tell him you were about to ruin his next few months as your crew worked through the floor. You had to think quick. This was your job after all, “I’ll tell you what sir. We’ll start over on those conference rooms this week. Hopefully that gives you time to sort it out?” You pointed to the rooms on the other side of the office, not the large one his team clearly needed.

He gave you a curt nod. His gaze almost fully softening as you tried to compromise with him still with a genuine smile on your face. Even he had to admit that smile was breaking him down far faster than he would’ve thought possible. He had yet to even look at a woman since Haley’s death, that was years ago now. It freaked him out a little. He’d been so fine on his own. Figuring out a good routine with Jack and Jess. Getting too complacent. He knew it wasn’t fair to Jack. Especially since he was getting to an age where a mom was crucial. Jack needed somebody to lean on and it certainly wasn’t fair to Jess to pick that up.

“It won’t mess your plans up?” The handsome stranger asked you. Your smile grew as you knew he was going to be willing to work with you. More often than not you’d have to get into with whomever was arguing back with you, often the government trying to shut you down. But you knew better. You always had all the permits you needed and knew the rule book like the back of your hand. That’s why you excelled. You never let anybody get the better of you. ADHD was a curse and a blessing at the same damn time.

Shaking your head you continued, “Not at all! That’s construction. You plan, and then it changes 45 times before you actually start. It’s no big deal at all. Really.” You tried to reassure him. He looked embarrassed that he was so upset only a few moments prior. The last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable. You knew you had at least two months of face to face with the guy. Starting off on the wrong foot was the worst thing you and the crew could do.

“I’m sorry. If you wouldn’t mind. We have a crucial case involving some kids…” He stopped himself before he divulged too much. He didn’t want you to get kicked out on his own accord. He knew you only had a clearance to enter the building. Nothing more, nothing less. He wouldn’t risk that at your stake.

“No explanations necessary sir. We’ll find a better day to demo.” You never dropped your smile as you maintained eye contact with him. You found that making sure to look whomever in the eyes always met you with better than looking around, looking scared.

“Aaron. Sir is too formal. Aaron Hotchner. My team, whenever they get here, will call me Hotch. Call me whatever.” He stuck his hand out for you to take. Gently you set your hand in his. You’d always been taught to go for the death grip when shaking hands. It established dominance or some bullshit like that. Especially since you were a woman in such a male dominated field. Working in a man’s world was exhausting. But something struck you as different with the man. So gentle it was.

“Nice to meet you, Aaron. I’m Y/N.” He shook your hand just as gently as you set your hand in his. You weren’t sure if he felt the pull that you felt but you simply couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“It’s nice to meet you to Y/N.” The handshake when on for a little too long. You were positive Eric was going to give you hell for this when you walked back over, “And again, I’m sorry for the outburst. These cases get stressful.”

You laughed a giggle that shouldn’t have come out of your mouth at work. His stoic expression tweaked into a soft smile after hearing your laugh, “Believe me when I say that was tame. The yelling matches I’ve gotten in with men twice my age are too plentiful to count.”

He laughed this time finally dropping your hand, gently of course, “I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”

You shrugged, “Part of the job. Plus, it’s fun to yell back sometimes.” His small smile grew into a much larger one, eyes crinkling and all. You’d done it. You’d charmed him.

“Hotch!” A female voice came yelling out of the conference room, “Round table, let’s go.” The pretty blonde-haired lady smirked at him before turning back to the room. The two of you failed to see his team file in during the conversation.

He broke his gaze turning around to see his agent vanishing from the doorway, “Got to go. Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”

You nodded your head, “Likewise Aaron.”

The rest was literally history. He ended up bringing you some sort of coffee or baked good every morning he was in the office, which you learned very quickly wasn’t all that often. He and his team seemed to be away more than they were actually there. You took advantage of that and fixed their office spaces and conferences rooms right as they left for their trips. You’d check in with Penny to make sure you weren’t in the way when they got back.

Small chit chats in the morning turned to lunch “dates” as Eric so kindly called them. You’d refused to call them as such, not ever truly able to gauge whether he was actually interested in you or not. You tried to make it as blatantly obvious as possible, but he was Aaron. Calm, cool and collected. The two of you had even been the butt of office jokes as you got closer. You didn’t seem to care though. It felt too good with him to give whatever you had up.

Lucky for you those lunch dates turned to dinner dates and before you knew it you were meeting Jack and spending time at his place. Weeks turned to months, and you were spending almost every night at the Hotchner’s. You and Jack were getting along as thick as thieves. Aaron even trusting you to watch him while he was gone. You made Jack promise not to tell his daddy that you gave him ice cream almost every night. It was a secret between the two of you.

Jack was off on a summer camp, and you’d just wrapped up the Quantico project leaving you far too bored sitting at Aaron’s place. So, you did what you always did when you had nothing to do. You cranked up the music and started cleaning. It was a Tuesday morning, and you really weren’t expecting Aaron to get back from his case. It was a long one out in Colorado. He never gave you the specifics, but he sounded horribly upset each night when he was on the phone with you. Distracted and distraught.

You hadn’t heard the door open and close as you were upstairs cleaning. But when your music abruptly stopped you hightailed it downstairs to get it going again. To your surprise your boyfriend was standing at the kitchen island rubbing his temples. You should’ve known there that he wasn’t going to be in the best of moods.

“Hon.” You grinned ear to ear seeing him standing there, “Your home! How was the trip? Happy to be home? I missed you tons. Especially with Jack being gone, I haven’t had anybody to talk to.” You wrapped your arms around his front, hugging him from behind. You were usually really good at picking up on social cues, but you must’ve been too damn excited to see him to pick up on his mood.

“Y/N.” He gave you a half smile before squeezing your hands tightly but gently. Like he was afraid of losing you.

“Aaron.” You let go of him brushing the now overgrown hair out of his face, “Are you alright? Was the trip okay? I just missed you so much. Hopefully it wasn’t too bad. I’ve really gotten used to having Jack around. I wish you didn’t have to go so often.” You admitted.

He sighed a deep one, “It was a tough case.” Was all he gave you. You should’ve known there that he wasn’t going to give you much else. But your stupid ass brain decided to ignore the cues. It wasn’t really your fault that it bounced around so quickly. You’d even taken your meds today. It was something about Aaron that seemed to break anything those meds were holding back.

“Want to talk about it? I know you never do but it could be good for you. You know? It’s not great to hold that kind of stuff in. It’ll eat away at you.” You just wanted him to be the Aaron you knew. Not the ball of stress standing before you.

He shook his head, “Not this time.”

“You sure? You look upset hon. I don’t like to see you like that.” You continued not noticing him closing his eyes. Surely more than irritated with you at the moment. But were you going to catch that? Nope.

“Positive.”

You nodded, “Alright. If you say so. Are you hungry? I can whip you up some lunch…”

He interrupted you before you could go on whatever long winded rant you had built up, “Y/N, can you be quiet for five seconds please? I’m trying to think.” You were turned away from him and didn’t see the immediate regret that washed over his face. He didn’t really mean it he just needed you to stop for a moment. He wasn’t expecting you to be home and wasn’t ready for the bombardment of questions. After cases that involved so many deaths it took him a moment to come back around. He needed a second to himself. The job was hard and you knew that.

And with that you felt your heart deflate right then and there. The smile that hadn’t dropped since he came home immediately vanished without a trace. Your happy eyes immediately dropping and filling with hot, wet tears that desperately wanted to spill over. You’d been with him for almost half a year and that had yet to come out of his mouth. It took you by surprise, to say the least.

“I’m so sorry.” You squeaked out before walking out of the kitchen hastily. You weren’t good with conflict. Always running away from it.

He knew he fucked up. You weren’t overly sensitive, but he knew what he said was over the line. Especially since you were simply trying to help him. But he also needed that moment. So, he shamefully let you sit upstairs with your thoughts. You had an issue of letting things ruminate in your head for far too long.

Letting the tears fall you continued to clean the bathroom in silence. Why were you like this? As soon as you got comfortable with someone you seemed to ruin it with your dumb ass brain. You should’ve known he was exhausted. He’d been gone for nearly two weeks. Cases never ended well when he was gone for over a week let alone two. You should’ve backed off the second he started giving you short answers. Stupid stupid brain ruining everything.

Once you finished you thought it best to spend some time back at your own apartment. The last thing you wanted to do was annoy him into breaking up with you. Tip towing downstairs you found him asleep on the couch. Biting your lip, you scribbled a note letting him know you went home making a dumb excuse that your friend needed you. As much as you wanted to spend the night with him, he clearly needed it alone.

It wasn’t long after you got home that your phone buzzed. Looking down you saw Aaron was calling. Deciding it best to give him space you decided not to pick up. When it rang for a second time you answered, “Hey.” Why were those stupid tears threatening to spill again?

“Sweetheart where are you?”

You frowned, “Home. Emma needed some help with a dress.” You partially lied. Your friend Emma really did need help hemming her dress, something you were oddly good at. But she wasn’t coming over until the weekend.

“Oh, are you coming back after? We can make Spaghetti, your favorite.” You knew this was his attempt to apologize. Quickly realizing in the relationship that Aaron was a quality time kind of guy, his true love language.

Should you? You weren’t feeling great about the whole thing and a night away might make the heart grow fonder, “I don’t think so Aaron. I’m tired and she’ll be over for a while.” Another lie. You hated doing this to him but you just couldn’t confront it head on. It just wasn’t something you were ready for.

“Oh, okay.” He sounded sad. It made your heart lurch just thinking about it, “Come over tomorrow after work?”

“Yeah, sure.” You knew you were being short with him but God, you just didn’t want to annoy him. A specialty you’d seemed to master.

“Everything alright sweetheart?”

Everything was not alright, “Yeah, just a bit tired. I should get going, she’s almost here.” You hardly heard the confirmation on the other end of the phone before you hung up on him.

You didn’t sleep well nor work great the next morning. Aarons comments ringing in your ears over and over again. When it came time to go home you took his route home. Knowing you had to confront this at some point. Aaron would make you. He always did. As bad as he was with words, he always made sure to talk things out.

Somehow, his black SUV was parked in the driveway. You had an inkling feeling he was going to beat you home no matter what. He might’ve even taken the day off today. Walking through the front door you found Aaron in the kitchen cutting up some tomatoes.

“Sweetheart.” He smiled while dropping the knife and walking over to you. Wrapping you in a tight hug he made sure to give you an extra squeeze. He was a profiler after all, he knew something was amiss.

“Hi.” You mumbled in his chest. Breathing him in completely you let your eyes close as you leaned into him. He was clearly trying to make it up to you now, might as well let him.

“Have a good day?” He asked while prying you away from his chest.

Shaking your head you decided to answer honestly. The little white lies you told yesterday making you feel gross, “No, not really.” Yawning you leaned your head back into his chest.

He starting brushing through your hair with his fingers having an inkling as to why, but he needed to know for sure. He hated hurting you. You were nothing but sweet to him and he returned it by snapping at you? He’d done it to Jack as well. He knew it was something he needed to work on even if he wouldn’t say it out loud.

“And why’s that?” He asked softly making sure not to startle you.

“Didn’t sleep great. Then my boss decided to put me on the worst project. Pipes.” You sighed. It wasn’t an attack on you, every project manager had to have a hellish utility job. You were just next on the list. It couldn’t have come at a worse time though. Pipe work meant constant oversight, and anything could shut the project down. Tedious and annoying but necessary, you knew it.

“I’m sorry honey.” He confined brushing through your hair.

“It’s fine.” You signed closing your eyes as you listened to his heartbeat. You weren’t in the mood to talk which was strange for you. You always wanted to talk. To dive a little deeper. Understand him a bit more. But you weren’t feeling it. Was it actually your mood or were you just terribly self-conscious now? You refused to ask that question as you shoved it to the back of your mind.

“You sure it’s fine? You’re awfully quiet. I miss my chatty girl.” He knew he needed to apologize. He should’ve just spit it out already. But he wanted to see if he could see if it was anything more. He’d never seen you so down and out. You were always there with a smile and seeing you so sad had him worried. Had he done that to you? Did you not sleep because of him?

You nodded into his chest, “Yeah, ‘M just…” You paused. Was it really worth not telling the whole truth? Aaron would figure it out. He probably already had. He was doing that profiler shit on you now. As annoying as it was you grew to love it. It was him. You loved him. Everything about the man intrigued you, “Tired.” You finished. Not the whole truth and you knew it.

“Honey.” He kept brushing through your hair knowing how much it calmed you.

Feeling a little surge of bravery, you looked up to him, “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dismiss you yesterday.” He paused giving you a brief kiss on your forehead but not giving you enough time to respond before he continued, “I love all your questions. I really do. It’s just this last case was rough. And I know that’s no excuse to treat you like that. It’s just… this guy. He targeted women that looked just like you. It’s been an awful two weeks. I just miss you. Please stay?”

“Oh Aaron,” You frowned but squeezed him tightly, “I’m so sorry. If I had known…”

“I should’ve told you. Don’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing.” He kissed your forehead again holding it there. Just holding you in his arms.

Feeling so safe and secured in his arms made you feel every emotion all at once. Thrilled that he still felt the same about you. Embarrassed you took it so personally. Scared you would mess this up. So in love with the guy who recognized so easily what was bothering you. It was all too much for you. You couldn’t try to stop the tears that flowed down your cheeks even if you tried.

Aaron pried you away from him taking your head in his hands. Softly he wiped away the tears with his thumbs with a sad look on his face, “I’m so sorry sweetheart.” His eyes searched your face for anything. His heart breaking just a little more seeing your hurt expression across ever feature.

Nodding, that’s all you could do. Absolutely you accepted his apology. He was so sincere with it you know he meant everything with his entire heart, “It’s okay.” You managed to choke out between breaths. After a moment the tears finally stopped. You’d normally be horrified by the sudden outburst but with him you weren’t. You knew he had you.

“It’s really not. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again.” He assured you wiping away the final tears.

“Thank you, Aaron.”

He pulled you back into him, “I’m not perfect but I promise you I’ll try.”

“I know that.” You beamed up at him. You felt so much better. Words always helped, running away never did.

“I love you, my dear.” He smiled down at you while rocking you back in forth in his arms.

“And you know, I love you too.”

Taglist: @twilightlover2007 @morgthemagpie @ashie-babie @buckybarnessweetheart @wendy234678 @adhdannieedison @emilykolchivans @aurabambi @pipecleanerweyesfp @simp4f1 @ghostridrr @sunflowers-4

[dyns33]

No Fear

Being a while since I wrote about Homelander. I want to do a second part for this story, but I'm not sure about the ending yet.

Homelander didn't have a soulmate.

That was what was written in his file, written by scientists who had brought him into the world, raised him in a lab, studied him for years, in order to make him the ultimate superhero.

If you had asked Y/N for her opinion, she would have said that they hadn't done a great job, and that the report could be thrown in the toilet.

For the most part, Frenchie's partners seemed to agree with this conclusion.

When he had called her to ask for a favor, she had hesitated. Vought was a big fish, and Y/N had never liked fishing.

The job paid well, as well paid as it was dangerous. But that wasn't the problem. because danger didn't scare her. She wasn't afraid of anything.

If she had to thank her father, it was for showing her that soulmates were bullshit, that no one should be trusted, and that there was no reason to be afraid.

The worst thing that could happen was death, relentless, certain, and since she had died in their basement during the time he had kept her locked up, there was nothing left to make her tremble.

If she hesitated, it was because she didn't know Frenchie's companions well, he wasn't always reliable himself, and she hated wasting her time with undoable jobs.

She had followed from afar the adventures of the small team against the big bad corporation that created fake heroes, and they had never really had any results.

For her part, Y/N didn't give a damn about the supes. She had no direct grievance against them. They were assholes like billions of others in the world, the only difference being that they were harder to kill.

Butcher's rage against Homelander was understandable, after what he had done to his wife, his soulmate. If he didn't try to stab her in the back to achieve his ends, everything would be fine.

The supe didn't have a soulmate, since he was superior to everyone, he came out of a tube and he had no soul. It was possible to use the information to hurt his fragile ego in constant demand for love, but nothing else.

It seemed smarter to avoid annoying Homelander, or even if possible not to attract his attention so that the job would go well.

But Butcher was not able to keep his distance nor his tongue in his pocket, to the point that his best enemy could recognize his scent on other people.

"How's dear William ?" Homelander purred as if everything was normal, while he was alone in the Vought elevator with Y/N, who had posed as a delivery girl.

"Dying but still a pain in the ass."

"I don't think we've met before. He recruits into his little gang of losers and they send them to get killed instead of him ? That's heartbreaking."

"Hmm." was Y/N's response who hadn't looked at him for a single second, focused on counting the time left for Serge's creation to hack the building's systems.

"… Excuse me, I'm telling you I'm going to break your neck."

"That's great, big guy. I would believe it if there wasn't a camera, no proof that I'm a criminal or a danger, and you didn't look like you were totally having a blast. This is my floor, bye."

She even had the audacity to pat him on the shoulder as she left, which left him speechless.

It had really happened without her thinking about it. The problem with being afraid of nothing and not caring at all about Homelander.

If she had been a little more interested, Y/N would have known that he hated being ignored more than anything, but that he was also very intrigued when people weren't scared in front of him.

Since he didn't have a soulmate, he quickly and dangerously latched onto people who made him feel something other than disgust.

It was Frenchie who had insisted on installing surveillance cameras in the small apartment she was renting for the duration of the mission, since she refused to stay with them longer than necessary.

Half-laughing, she had told him that he was a pervert. Since she didn't see the need for this surveillance at all, Y/N had never looked at the footage.

No point in looking at empty rooms or herself sleeping, the rare times she was there.

"Maybe you should look, love." Butcher muttered with a serious look that he rarely displayed, almost as if he was worried about another human being.

"Because you have access to the images ? Do I have to charge you a subscription ?"

"Haha, you're not my type. But obviously, you had an effect on the super cunt."

Since the elevator, Y/N had seen Homelander two or three times. They hadn't really talked, she had continued to talk to him as if he were just a harmless guy with a big maniac smile and his eyes that never left her.

There had been a tiny change the last time. A strange feeling in her chest, a buzzing in her ears, and Y/N had felt like he was coming, which was impossible.

With his vision passing through walls, his sense of smell and his obvious paranoia, Homelander also always seemed to know where she was.

That didn't explain his recurring presence in her apartment.

He had first come when she wasn't there. According to Billy, the supe loved doing that, to study the enemy, mark his territory, prove that he could do what he wanted.

Like a big cat, Homelander could be seen wandering around the rooms, touching absolutely everything, searching the fridge, testing the couch, sniffing her clothes.

Y/N wasn't going to pretend that it made her happy. But they were just objects, nothing really important. While he was having fun like a child, she could enter protected areas with the certainty of not running into him.

The problem was rather when he came while she was there.

Sometimes while she was showering, he could be seen through the window, or who remained in the entrance, staring at the wall, before leaving. It was ridiculous to feel uncomfortable, because he could see through her clothes absolutely all the time.

More and more often, he came while she was sleeping. Y/N had had nightmares for a large part of her childhood. It still happened sometimes, waking her up with a start, feeling stupid.

While she was tormented by her inner demons, her body continued to not give a damn about the superhero standing right next to her. Sometimes, when she was agitated, he would put his gloved hand on her cheek, as if he wanted to reassure her. You couldn't say that it had any effect, but it seemed to please her.

He didn't touch her as much as he could have. Most of the time, he just looked at her, standing more or less close.

Obviously, he sometimes talked to her. The video didn't pick up the sound, so it was impossible to tell what he was saying.

Homelander was in the middle of a long monologue when he strangely froze, leaning over Y/N, and kissing her without warning. A quick, simple kiss, so simple that it hadn't woken her up despite a slight flinch.

It had been several weeks already. Since then, he came regularly, almost all night long, and by hacking into a few surveillance cameras, it was obvious that he also followed her during the day whenever he had the chance.

Y/N had often had this strange feeling when he was around, without ever being able to determine what it was.

"… Shit." she murmured as she looked at the images.

"Shit indeed."

"This is going to be a problem, a real problem. I mean, he was already keeping an eye on Butcher, so now it's going to be impossible to move without that motherfucker on our backs."

"We could use that."

"No, Butcher !" Hughie said with his expression of constant worry that was bordering on constipation. "It's too dangerous !"

It took Homalander coming just to save her for Billy to admit that there was indeed a problem.

For the cunt to save him from the explosion of Stilwell's house to laugh and show him Becca and Ryan, okay. But for him to break the sound barrier, traveling all over town, just to catch Y/N, when he had no way of knowing she was in danger ?

That bastard was known for having no heart, but at that moment, he thought of his wife, he thought of what she had been through, and even if he didn't know Y/N well, he didn't want her to end up like that.

"You have to get out of here."

"And what ? I hide in a zinc-walled dungeon for the rest of my life, praying that he doesn't find me or that he gets tired of me ? Please, Butcher. Because he will get tired of me, I'm sure of it."

She wasn't sure. She knew these types of guys. For a long time, she had hoped that her father would come to his senses and let her go. Then she had stabbed him thirty-two times before burning down the house.

After several attempts, it was obvious that it would not be possible to do the same thing with Homelander. But he hated humans, it could only be a passing fascination.

A way to fill the boredom and emptiness, since he had no other women to harass, all the others having been killed or committed suicide.

Running away could have been a good option, since it would have indicated that Y/N was afraid and it would have been a disappointment to Homelander. But he could have still chased her away just for that.

"Why does it always have to end like this with you Serge ?"

"What can I do, chérie ? It's all your natural charm. You broke my heart the first time we met, so it's not that incredible that you seduced the great fucking Homelander."

"You fall in love with everyone. He hates 'mud people'."

"You're not 'people'. I shouldn't have brought you here, désolé."

Frenchie spoke to her as if she were already dead. The whole team looked at her with sad and resigned eyes.

The receptionist looked at her the same way when Y/N showed up at the reception of the ridiculous Vought tower, asking to see the flying cunt. In fact, the request had made the woman laugh at first, a mocking laugh, but she had still called Homelander's apartment, and that's where she had looked panicked.

But maybe it was more about the fate he had reserved for her for speaking badly to Y/N, and not for the future of the woman who got into the elevator, armed only with her courage and a small knife hidden in her shoe.

Homelander's bright blue eyes looked at it with a small smile, as if he found it adorable, before returning to her face.

"We need to talk." Y/N said calmly as she stood in the middle of the hallway.

"I think so."

And if at the end of their little discussion, there was no way to reason with him, then one of them wouldn't be leaving this apartment, even if she had a pretty good guess as to which one it would be.

[copper-16]

You Didn't Let Me Finish

Ingrid had a rule that she had held onto ever since she started working as a stripper: she doesn't sleep with clients.

Usually.

Ingrid doesn't usually sleep with clients. Exceptions must be made for most rules anyways though, right?

(a/n: Yes it's a stripper fic. I mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone, this is just a silly little idea I had in my head and decided to write on a whim. Feel free to skip if it's not your thing! Also I didn't proofread it, so ignore any mistake lmao)

Sometimes, Ingrid wasn’t exactly sure how she had ended up here. 

The Norwegian had done a semester abroad in Spain when she was in university, and found that she absolutely loved the city. So when the opportunity to move to Barcelona presented itself after graduation, she jumped at the chance to go. Her study abroad had been in Madrid, but it was still Spain, right? 

And the Norwegian actually preferred Barcelona to Madrid, the longer she lived here. She enjoyed the energy of the city, how posh and lively it was, how wonderfully kind the people were. The job she was offered was modest, and despite the fact that she got by, Ingrid wasn’t all that comfortable with living from paycheck to paycheck if she didn’t have to. 

Which was exactly how she had found herself at Dollhouse. It was the most exclusive strip club in Barcelona, catering only to those clients who could pay for the supreme services, and they only accepted the best when it came to their girls. 

The owner had taken one look at Ingrid, roving his eyes up and down the dark haired woman with interest before he was nodding, clearly pleased with what he was seeing. Her ability to speak both English and some Spanish came in handy, and she became a regular for many of the international clients. 

Ingrid was paid well, only worked three nights a week, and it helped her to nearly double her salary with the tips she was given. She gave lap dances, some pole work, did a few shows on the main stage, served customers when asked. It was an easy gig, and she couldn’t help but feel appreciated given the reaction that she could stir up in most men. It was addicting, really. She felt powerful and in control, her confidence only rising the longer she worked there. 

It wasn’t sex. People often got that mixed up, that being a stripper meant sex. It could mean sex, if that was what the girls wanted, but Ingrid had little interest in the older men who came into her rooms. She was as gay as they came, and it was very rare for them to receive a female client, and Ingrid had never had the pleasure of having one, not personally. 

But she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea, if the right person came along. 

It’s just, nobody had. 

But perhaps that would change. 

—

It was a Sunday night, which meant that the Dollhouse was relatively calm. Ingrid was in the back room with a few of the other girls, getting ready for her show in around thirty minutes when Miguel came back. 

“Ingrid, Misa!” He called, and both women turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. They stood, setting their makeup down to walk over to their boss, who was in charge of the scheduling. 

Miguel was gruff but kind, and he always made sure the girls were comfortable and not exploited. He could be a bit rough around the edges but he never failed to make the girls feel cared for as people and not just objects, and in return they did their best to make his life as painless as possible. It was a good gig, they all knew that, compared to the nasty bastards at some of the other places around town. 

“We have two clients in separate private rooms. Footballers, booked after winning something big I think, I want the two of you to take them,” Miguel explained, and he looked between Misa and Ingrid with a critical eye, clearly trying to decide who to send where. 

Despite the fact that Ingrid was Norwegian and Misa was Spanish, the two actually looked quite similar. Ingrid was paler, taller, and less tattooed than Misa was, but in terms of build and physical appearance, they were rather alike. 

“Misa, I want you in Room One and Ingrid in Room Two, Misa your Spanish is better than Ingrid’s. The girls will cover your sets for the night so don’t worry about that. They’ve booked for the rest of the night so make sure to give them their money's worth but you’re free to leave when you are done, alright?” Miguel decided, and Ingrid and Misa both nodded. 

“Oh and–”

“If they do anything creepy we will come find you,” Ingrid and Misa rattled off in perfect unison, and Miguel scowled at his predictability before he shooed them away to go get changed, the two women smiling at the action. 

Ingrid and Misa walked back to the changing room, each of them looking through the different lingerie sets they could wear. 

“What are you thinking?” Misa asked as she pulled out a purple lace set before shaking her head, shoving it back in her closet. 

“Well if they paid for the whole night then clearly they have money, probably want something expensive and distinguished. Footballers can be assholes and handsy, and they think too much with their dicks and not enough with their heads,” Ingrid scoffs lightly, and Misa snorts as she looks over at the dark haired woman’s closet. 

“Hmm…you’re going to wear this,” Misa decides, pulling out a hunter green piece of lace, and Ingrid raises her brow before nodding her agreement, looking over at the Spaniard’s closet. 

“And you’re going to do this, I’ve seen you in it before and your chest looks amazing in it,” Ingrid says with an air of finality, and Misa smirks at the outfit before they both went into their changing rooms to slip their clothes off and put the lace on. They don’t bother with robes, the hallway to the private rooms is secluded from the rest of the club anyways, so the two women make their way back together, chatting lightly about their day jobs, what their weeks look like. 

By the time they make it to Room One and Room Two, the women are both relaxed and ready to do their job. Neither of them really has any idea what lies beyond the door besides a footballer, so with one final goodbye they both enter the passcodes to the room before stepping in. 

Ingrid closes the door behind her before turning around, and she can’t help the way that her eyebrows jump in surprise when she sees who it is sitting at the table. 

The room is set up with a bed, a couch and two loveseats, as well as a table with four dining room chairs. Lap dances are usually given in the chairs at the table or the loveseats, but the rest of the room can be utilized however the girls may choose to. 

The thing that surprises Ingrid though, is the fact that the person sitting at the table is a woman, and not a man. 

The woman stands, the chair rustling against the floor as she pushes it back before she steps forward to examine Ingrid. Her gaze is curious but not sharp, her entire body language relaxed. She’s clearly a footballer, her body muscled and well built.  

She can’t be more than a few years older than Ingrid, and she’s just an inch or two shorter than her with light, sandy blonde hair that is straightened just past her shoulder. Her hazel eyes take Ingrid in, the light lace that covers her body, and she nods appreciatively for a moment before cocking her head. 

“Hello,” she offers, and Ingrid is quick to respond, the woman’s gaze making her feel a little bit hot. 

“Hi,” Ingrid responds, not entirely sure what to say. The woman was speaking to her in English, so clearly she recognized that the Norwegian was a foreigner, though she wasn’t exactly sure how she noticed that before she had even spoken. 

“Why did they send you in here to me?” The woman asked curiously, her hazel eyes still boring into Ingrid. The question is surprising, considering the fact that they were at a strip club. They sent her in here to do her job, but the Norwegian gets the sense that isn’t what this woman means, so she answers with more candor.  

“My coworkers' Spanish is better than mine. Presumably your friend only speaks Spanish, but you clearly can speak English well, so here I am,” Ingrid supposes, and the woman nods slowly before her lips quirk up in a smirk. 

“My friend can speak enough English for tonight, I promise. I think you should switch rooms…I insist actually. I think she’ll be quite charmed by…” the woman looks down at Ingrid once more before her gaze returns to the dark haired woman’s eyes, “...you.”   

Ingrid’s eyebrows raise in surprise before she nods in agreement, never one to say no to a client request unless it really was something she couldn’t do. 

“If that’s what you wish…” Ingrid trails off, still unsure of the woman’s name. 

“Alexia. And my friend's name in the other room is María,” she supplies, and Ingrid regards her for another minute before slipping out of the room, Alexia turning back to sit down in the chair she had been in originally. 

The Norwegian walks over to Room One briskly, rapping on the door three times before she steps back, waiting for Misa to come out. It only takes a few seconds for the Spaniard to slide out of the room, her eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion. 

“We need to switch, the other woman requested it,” Ingrid explains, and Misa nods for a second before she looks back at the room. 

“Can you believe it’s women? And god, if the second one is as hot as this one…” Misa trails off, practically drooling, and Ingrid can’t help but laugh lightly, because really she quite agrees. Misa is the only other gay woman at Dollhouse, and Ingrid finds solace in the fact that she isn’t alone, calmed by the Spaniards presence. 

“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Her name is Alexia,” Ingrid adds before the younger woman can leave, and Misa nods before she gestures back at the room next to them. 

“Names Mapi,” Misa supplies, and Ingrid’s eyebrows furrow at the fact she’s now been told two separate names for this woman. But honestly, if she was even half as attractive as the first woman, Ingrid was seriously going to be in trouble. 

The first woman, Alexia, hadn’t exactly been her type per say, but objectively she was very attractive. 

As Misa disappears down the hallway Ingrid takes a deep breath, trying to center herself and remain calm at what is about to occur. She knew what the deal was with men, how to dance and act. 

But women were different, Ingrid knew that even if she had never had a female client. They were more watchful, more appreciative, more in tune. 

And well, if this woman was as attractive as Misa was making her out to be, she might be in a bit of trouble. 

The green eyed woman punched in the code before she stepped into the room, once again shutting the door behind her. 

Ingrid turned around, taking in the room and the woman who was settled on one of the room's two armchairs. 

And god was Misa wrong. 

This woman wasn’t attractive. 

She was mind numbingly, astronomically stunning, and it takes everything in Ingrid not to let her jaw physically drop. 

The woman had her hair down in beach waves, lighter highlights against the brunette of her hair accenting the dark strands, framing dark eyes and supple, light pink lips that are set in a smirk. 

She’s wearing a button down that has far too many buttons undone, but it only serves to show off her cleavage, biceps straining against the tight black fabric. She has on gray dress pants, and she shifts her shirt sleeve up to glance at her watch before she stands, making her way over to Ingrid. 

“Hola princesa,” the woman greets softly, her voice raspy and deliciously low, and if Ingrid wasn’t wet at just the sight of her, she was now. 

If there was anyone who was going to break her rule of not sleeping with someone, it would be this woman. That was assuming she wanted to as well, but if the glint in her eyes was anywhere near as serious as it looked, Ingrid thought her chances might be relatively high. 

She scrambled to gather as much Spanish as she possibly could. It was a little pathetic that she wasn’t more fluent, but between this being her third language and the fact that her work was in English and most of her friends spoke the language, her Spanish could definitely use some work. 

“Hola,” Ingrid rushed to reply, internally cringing at how bad her accent was while understanding washed over the woman’s face, and she switched to a heavily Spanish accented English. 

“Ah, English, no?” The woman suggested, no malice in her tone, and Ingrid let out a small sigh before she nodded. 

“Si,” she acquiesced in a bit of a defeated tone, but the woman simply tipped her head back in a delicious laugh, something light and breathy, her neck on full display. She had a tattoo on it, and Ingrid could see more ink peaking back at her on the woman’s available skin. 

It did absolutely nothing to help the green eyed woman’s aching core, but she ignored it in favor of returning to the problem at hand, to the fact that she needed to get on with the performance for this woman. 

“Sit?” Ingrid asked gently, gesturing to the table and chairs that surrounded it, walking over to pull one of them out. 

The woman made no move to walk over, seemingly not done with the conversation. 

“I’m Mapi,” she said instead, and Ingrid raised her brow at the woman, clearly a little curious. 

“I’ve been told by a confident source that your name is María,” Ingrid sidesteps the introduction to ask the question, watching the way that the woman’s eyes darkened with lust when she says her name. 

“Have you now?” Mapi drawls, the surprise clear in her face. The smirk is back, and she finally begins to walk toward the table, but before she sits she stands in front of Ingrid, still only looking her in the eyes. 

The Norwegian keeps waiting for her to drop her eyes down, to look over the lace that could hardly be described as modest, but the smaller woman seems hell bent on keeping her eyes trained on Ingrid’s. 

“And you are?” She asks lightly, the dark haired woman answering her question quickly and easily. 

“My name is Ingrid,” she murmurs, once again gesturing at the chair, and this time Mapi takes her up on her offer. The Spaniard sits down before she looks up at the Norwegian, who strolls over to turn the music on. 

“Any requests?” Ingrid questioned, looking back at Mapi to find the woman staring at her with hooded eyes and a hungry gaze. She shakes her head, finding no offers. 

“Whatever you prefer,” Mapi decides, and Ingrid observes the woman for a moment before nodding, turning back to the speaker system. She sets up her playlist, playing the song TiO by Zayn, which had been a recent favorite of hers. 

The song is a bit of a quicker pace, which she liked to start out with. It was easy to flash the quick movements before she let things get sensual, and her approach for this woman is absolutely no different. 

She turns back toward the table, walking over in long strides before she comes to rest in front of Mapi, her ass pressed back into the table behind her. 

“Can I touch you?” Ingrid asks in a low voice, tossing her thick, dark hair over one shoulder. Mapi looks up at her with an unreadable expression, holding eye contact before she nodded carefully. 

The Norwegian stood from the table, stepping forward. She turned, rounding the chair that Mapi was currently settled in, just watching. The brunette didn’t look back at her, but did meet her eyes when Ingrid finally circled all the way back to the front of the chair. 

It’s at this point that Ingrid brings her hand up, resting it over the Spaniard’s collarbone carefully. She slides her hand up, coming into contact with bare skin as she pushes her middle finger inside the cuff of the woman’s popped shirt. 

The dark haired woman plays with the collar for a moment before she begins moving once again. She drags her fingers around to Mapi’s back, stopping when she is standing in front of the Spaniard’s back, pressing both of her palms to the brunette’s back, fingers down. She slowly runs her hands down, into the small of the footballers back, before she shifts, moving them to caress her sides gently. 

She’s gone as soon as she arrived, however, continuing around the chair. Her hands travel over the Spaniard’s arm, down her side and around the underside of her chest before she splays it over the top of the brunette's abdomen. 

The muscle beneath her palm is rock hard, and she cannot help but let out a harsh breath at the feeling. She hopes that the footballer doesn’t notice, but when she looks up to see that Mapi is smirking back at her, she considers the effort fruitless. 

Ingrid’s hands retract from the Spaniard’s skin, and she shifts so that she can move her hips down and into the brunette’s lap, her back to Mapi’s front. It’s a bold first move, but she’s quick, in time with the song for just a tease before she’s gone, several steps away. 

Mapi is watching her with eagle eyes as Ingrid runs her hands up her own sides, squeezing at her own chest, letting her eyes flutter shut at the feeling for emphasis. It’s a little pornographic, and perhaps a little bit of a sell out, but she doesn’t care. 

The Norwegian makes sure to spend several moments just watching, teasing herself in whatever way possible, reveling in the way that the Spaniards eyes darken at the sight. Her nipples strain against the lace, hard and begging to be freed, but the dark haired woman ignores them in favor of returning to the footballer. 

The song changes to Lose Control by Teddy Swims, something more slow and sensual. Ingrid stalks back to the brunette, her intent clear when she places her hands on the woman’s knees, sliding them up her thighs before squeezing, lightly. 

The Norwegian moves her hands up the Spaniard’s side as she settles in her lap, her knees spread wide as she presses forward into the brunette’s personal space. She moves her hips slowly in an infinity pattern, sensual and enough to drive any man crazy. 

And yet still, Mapi has yet to touch her. Her arms remain listless at her sides, rather awkwardly. It’s a staunch change from the male clients she has often, who feel that they are allowed to touch, to take as much as they want. They consider the fact that Ingrid has been paid for, that they are allowed to do whatever they want to her, within reason. 

This doesn’t seem to be the case for this woman, however, and it only turns Ingrid on more. She leans forward even further, placing one hand on the woman’s shoulder while the other remains firmly planted on her side. Her lips are on the shell of the woman’s ear as she speaks, her voice low. 

“You can touch…you know,” the Norwegian drawls, her words breathy and filled with lust. She leaned back to look the footballer in the eyes, noting that her gaze was dark, the way her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. 

They held the others' gaze for a moment, neither moving until finally, finally Ingrid felt two hands carefully, respectfully placing themselves on her side, down toward her lower back. 

It was the Norwegian who moved them, removing her hands from the Spaniard to place hers over the brunette’s, sliding them lower, lower, lower, until they were resting firmly on her ass. Only then did Ingrid remove her own hands, planting them on the back of the chair as she rolled her hips down into the brunette. 

Mapi was staring at her intently, and she gently palmed at the Norwegian’s ass to test, rewarded greatly for her efforts when Ingrid arched into her, letting out a breathy noise. 

The dark haired woman’s body could only be described as fluid as she moved above the Spaniard, finally moving her leg to hook over the back of the chair, wrapping around the brunette’s back. 

Mapi slid her hands up, pulling Ingrid’s body more flush with hers. The Norwegian smiled, their faces just centimeters from one another. The Spaniard’s breath on hers was hot and insistent, her eyes roving over Ingrid’s face, finally eyeing the lace that covered the dark haired woman’s body. 

“You like it?” Ingrid purred, a smile evident in her voice as she gripped Mapi’s shoulders. The Spaniard scoffed lightly, looking back up at Ingrid. 

“You could say that,” the brunette hummed, her voice thick and low. It sent a shot of heat straight to the Norwegian’s core, and she arched even further into the smaller woman. 

Ingrid turned her head, brushing her nose against the Spanaird’s temple, her breathing shallow. 

“I don’t sleep with clients,” the Norwegian explained, and felt the shift immediately from the woman beneath her, the instant reaction to move away.

Ingrid had to give the footballer that, she was nothing if not respectful. It only made the Norwegian want her more, only made her flush further at the thought. 

It was her choice. 

Ingrid intercepts her hands, shoving them back down onto her ass before she brought her own to the brunette’s neck, pulling her in. 

“You didn’t let me finish,” the dark haired woman pouted, her lower lip jutting out slightly. Mapi reached forward, running her thumb over Ingrid’s lip slowly, softly. 

“Lo siento, princesa,” Mapi soothed, her expression willing Ingrid to continue. The Norwegian smiled gently, leaning down so that her lips hovered over the Spaniard’s throat. 

“I don’t sleep with clients, not unless I want to,” Ingrid continued, her hot breath leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Her fingertips trail up Mapi’s side, running over ridges of muscles and soft skin, dipping under her shirt before they retracted. Never direct, always teasing. 

“And trust me, I want to,” the Norwegian promised as she brought her face back to level with Mapi’s, her eyebrow quirked, almost daring the Spaniard to disagree. 

But the brunette would never do that, especially not when she has the most gorgeous woman she had ever laid eyes on sitting in her lap. 

They are left staring at one another for a few moments, their eyes flickering back and forth between the others eyes and lips, waiting to see who breaks first. A game of wills, a question of who is going to hold the power. 

It’s the Spaniard who snaps first, lunging forward to capture Ingrid’s lips in her own. She’s impatient, unable to resist having Ingrid in front of her looking so delectable, without doing anything about it. 

Mapi’s mouth is hot and insistent on her own, the brunette’s hands coming up to cradle Ingrid’s face as she kisses her senseless. 

It’s only a few moments later that the Spaniard presses her tongue into the Norwegian’s mouth, silently asking for entrance. The dark haired woman allows her access instantly, completely floored at the feeling of Mapi’s mouth on her own. 

The footballer swipes her tongue over the roof of Ingrid’s mouth, smiling into the kiss at the whine that slips past Ingrid’s lips at the feeling. 

The Norwegian’s head is dizzy, completely and utterly overwhelmed with the feeling of the Spaniard, of her hands being everywhere, of the press of her lips to Ingrid’s. It feels as though life is being breathed back into her, transformed into a fire that is sent straight to her core. 

She knows that she’s soaked the lace beneath her completely, but she can’t bring herself to care. Especially not when Mapi leans back, gesturing for her to stand. Ingrid is quick to comply, not bothering to try to make herself seem as cocky as she was pretending earlier. 

It’s been a long time since she’s been fucked properly, and something in this woman’s eyes tells her that the Spaniard is exactly what she needs. 

“Get on the bed,” Mapi instructs, and Ingrid is quick to comply, walking with purpose before laying back on the bed, sitting with her head up near the pillows, still clad only in her lace. 

The Spaniard stands from her spot on the chair, flipping the lock on her watch open as she sets it on the table in front of her. She pulled her shirt up from its spot having been tucked into her pants, looking over at the Norwegian as she undid the last few buttons. 

She laid the shirt down on the table, the picture of control and composure. The loss of the garment leaves her in only a black bra, which contrasts against the tan of her skin. She loses the belt she had on but elects to keep her pants on, instead moving toward the bed. 

Throughout this, the footballer had never let her eyes leave contact with Ingrid, not wanting to let the Norwegian out of her sight, even for a second. 

Ingrid lays back as Mapi joins her on the bed, crawling up the Norwegian’s body until she was positioned over the taller woman’s body, where she had wanted to be from the beginning. 

“You tell me to stop the minute you do not like something, si?” Mapi asked, her voice clear and leaving no room for argument. The Spaniard had no interest in making Ingrid do anything she did not want to. 

“Si,” the Norwegian parroted, squirming just slightly under the Spaniard, desperate for her to do something. 

Once she has confirmed Ingrid’s answer, the Spaniard is quick to begin her descent down the woman’s body. She captures the dark haired woman’s lips in a bruising kiss, applying just the right amount of pressure and tongue to have Ingrid gasping for more. 

She releases the Norwegian’s perfect, plump lips only in favor of working her mouth across Ingrid’s jaw, sucking and nipping lightly at the skin there. When she reaches the dark haired woman’s ear, she works her lips down and over the column of Ingrid’s throat. She pays close attention to the areas that make the taller woman let out a heavier breath, or the ghost of a whine, doubling down on her attention to those spots. 

She kisses over soft, pale skin, and down toward the soft flesh of her chest. Ingrid is arching into her before she even reaches her destination, desperate for more. 

“Can I–” Mapi removes her lips only to start a sentence that is never finished. 

“Yes, please, do anything to me,” Ingrid gasped, her entire body on fire at the thought of Mapi’s mouth over her chest, at the apex of her thighs. A flush is blooming on her chest as the Spaniard pulls the lace down, revealing Ingrid’s chest. 

Her nipples are peaked, aching to be touched and played with. The footballer doesn’t even bother with using her fingers first, simply leaning down to wrap her mouth around one of Ingrid’s nipples, her hand coming to cover the other. 

“Aye, María,” Ingrid hisses at the feeling, her whole back leaving the bed as she arches into Mapi’s mouth. Her hand has flown to the Spaniard’s head, her fingers tangling in the brunette’s hair and tugging lightly. 

Mapi doubles her attention at the feeling, swirling the tip of her nipple around her tongue, teasing her teeth over the sensitive area. Ingrid ate every lap of attention up, basking in it. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel so much, and it was turning her on in a way that was borderline painful. 

“Please, more,” the Norwegian begged once attention had been laved to both sides of her chest, and Mapi released her other nipple with a lewd pop sound. The footballer raised a brow at her, but Ingrid shook her head, her breaths shallow and desperate. 

The stripper is well aware of the irony, given her profession. She’s the one who is supposed to be pleasuring, not the other way around. But there was something about the way this woman composed herself, something about the reverence with which she touched the Norwegian that made her comfortable.

Mapi considers the request for a moment before she relents, pulling further at the lace, signaling that she wanted it off. The dark haired woman is quick to comply with her request, removing the hunter green fabric before she threw it to the ground, already forgotten. 

Ingrid lay back down on the bed, her hair splaying out against the pillow. The Spaniard watched her with hungry eyes, her lips turning up into a smirk. 

“So beautiful,” she murmured softly, her words filled with clear appreciation. “Espléndida, princesa,” Mapi whispered as she returned to Ingrid, softly holding the Norwegian’s face in her hands. Her lips were gentle against the taller woman this time, leaving the Norwegian with the feeling that she was delicate, and deserved to be treated as such. 

Oh, and what a different feeling it was to be touched by the Spaniard, as opposed to the heavy handed men she usually interacted with. 

To be touched and praised as though she was the most important thing in the world. No drug could compare, not to her anyways. 

Even as she trails down the Norwegian’s body, Mapi stops to press kisses into her skin, imbuing the fire of their interaction with a level of sweetness and ingenuity Ingrid had not been expecting. 

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared the Norwegian for what the first run of the Spaniard’s tongue through her would feel like. 

She is unsure of where her voice ends and Mapi’s begins, but all she knows is that two moans are filling the room, both equally desperate. Ingrid clutched at the sheets desperately, her hands fisting the pristine white fabric beneath them as Mapi ran her tongue through her again. 

The Spaniard eats her out as though it will save her, with an intent and passion that Ingrid cannot remember ever having in the bedroom. She brings her tongue up to circle the Norwegian’s clit several times, and every time a new wave of pleasure washes over her. 

“You taste perfect,” Mapi mumbles against her heat, and Ingrid flushes completely at the praise, struggling to compose her own pleasure. She attempts to bring her hand up to cover her own mouth, something that Mapi notices instantly. 

“Aye, I want to hear you,” the Spaniard chides softly when she sees what Ingrid is doing, and the dark haired woman lets out a filthy moan as she removes her hand, at the feeling of Mapi’s finger teasing at her entrance. 

“Is this okay?” The footballer confirms, waiting for the fervent head nod that she receives from Ingrid before she finally dips her finger in at a painfully slow rate, before curling gently. 

Ingrid is writhing under her, letting a string of mewls and moans that tumble from her lips of their own accord. She doesn’t care that she had no idea if anyone can hear them, only focused on her own pleasure and the feeling of the brunette’s body near her own. 

“Si, si, si,” Ingrid begs, moaning unabashedly when Mapi adds a second finger, curling with more purpose this time. 

The footballer could admit, her plan had been to tease more than this. She was a playful woman, and enjoyed picking her partners apart before allowing them to come, usually. 

Something about this Norwegian, the flush in her chest and the noises slipping past her lips, has Mapi throwing her entire playbook out the window.

She’s more than happy to continue this, so long as Ingrid continues making those noises. 

“You like that, princesa?” Mapi asks, her voice hoarse with arousal. Ingrid nods tightly, her chest arching up as the Spaniard curls her fingers deep within her. 

The set of her jaw, the way it opened with pleasure left Mapi flooded with the need to please, so the Spaniard lowered her mouth down to Ingrid’s clit, sucking lightly. The dark haired woman cries out, her hips rutting down into Mapi as the footballer continued her brutal pace. 

“Fuck!” Ingrid wailed, her voice dripping with need as she hurtled toward orgasm. Her hips grew erratic, jumping into Mapi’s hand as her whole body squirmed. The brunette could tell that the dark haired woman was close, doubling down on her pace and intensity, intent on getting her there. 

It only took a few more curls of Mapi’s fingers from deep within the Norwegian for the taller woman to let out a sharp cry, her whole body tightening. The Spaniard couldn’t help but smirk against the dark haired woman’s core as her whole body began to shudder, her orgasm working through her like a forest fire. 

Her whole body was arched off the bed, the sheets gripped in her fists as Mapi worked her through her orgasm, her entire body shaking. She collapses against the sheets, her breath coming in quick gasps as waves of pleasure flooded her system, her eyes still screwed shut. 

It took her a few moments, but she forced her eyes open when Mapi removed her fingers from Ingrid. The green eyed woman looked up at the Spaniard, who had sat back on her heels, her own breath short and lustful. 

The brunette reached her finger up to her own face, brushing some of the arousal away from her lips with the pad of her thumb as Ingrid looked up at her. The Norwegian’s dark hair was a sharp contrast to the pillow, the flush of her chest and stomach the complete antithesis to her pale skin. 

Mapi would never see a sight prettier than this under her again, she knew that for certain. Ingrid turned her head, glancing over at the clock and realizing with a rush that they still had several hours before either of them had to go anywhere. 

When the Norwegian looks back up at the Spaniard, it’s with a smirk on her lips, one eyebrow raised, almost as though she was challenging the brunette. 

“Fuck, princesa,” Mapi swore before surging forward to claim Ingrid’s lips once more, pressing her back into the bed. 

Ingrid let herself moan out, half at the feeling of Mapi’s body above her own, and half of the self satisfied feeling of knowing that it was going to be hard to walk tomorrow. 

So yeah…maybe some rules are worth being broken every once in a while.