[Silk X (m) Reader!] Cupid's Web (18+)

[18+] Up on the House Top

[YOU ARE STEPPING INTO THIS FANFICTION's LEMON SERVICE. YOU CAN SKIP THIS PART OF THE STORY AND PAY NO CONSEQUENCE.]

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   "Thank God for open windows," you say, sliding it open with your fingertips pressed against the panel. There's no sound of an alarm, and your sensors aren't triggered. As far as you can tell, this penthouse from the arrested criminal is only kept dustless by whatever cleaners he has hired to keep it up to spec when he's either released on time or bailed.

Silk follows you in carefully. She looks around and shakes herself from the cold. The shiver you've been avoiding since coming in is also shaken off. You crane your neck and close the window behind her.

You filter inside, and after a quick sweep of the area, you conclude that the area isn't bugged or wired to explode if anyone unauthorized steps in. Without the fancy tech and software, Silk begins to feel a little weary about doing this here, though.

  "Midnight," she whispers. "Are we actually going to do this here? This seemed like a funny idea earlier, but now that we're actually inside–"

  "You're getting cold feet?" You say, hitting a switch that turns on an interior's lighting. A Christmas tree, professionally decorated, begins to spin next to a fireplace. On cue, with the lights, the electric fireplace flicks on, and a warm glow is pushed out with the dim lights of the living room. Your eyes glide over the velvet couch, tiger rug (because why wouldn't a criminal have one?), and other posh furniture. There's also a faint smell of pine lingering from someplace, too. The gentle waft brings you into a state of relaxation. Even Cindy Moon took a deep breath.

  "No," she says finally. "I don't think I am."

You walk over to the bar area and rifle through the mini refrigerator. "Whoever's watching over the place does a good job keeping the place stocked."

Cindy looks over you and grumbles. "That isn't very super-hero like, [Y/N]."

You pull out 2 cold, non-alcoholic sparkling cider and throw her one. She catches it with ease and shakes her head with a slight grin. She lifts her eyes up as she opens the bottle with a slight twist. You hear the carbonated drink hiss as the metal cap is placed on the counter. You sigh and lean close to her from the other side. "We're just making sure nothing expires here while the owner is in jail. Is that really bad of us?"

  "You're turning me into Evil-Moon," she jokes, taking a drip from the bottle. In response to the flavor, Cindy smacks her lips in a sign of satisfaction. "This tastes expensive, and it's not even spiked."

It's your turn, and you come to the came conclusion as she. The bubbles pop and sizzle over your tongue and down your throat, leaving a sweet aftertaste behind as it still ripples over your tastebuds. "&%^@... That is good, isn't it?" You remark, rubbing the label with your gloves hand. It's from a French company. You read everything aloud: "Brewed and bottled in Paris, imported by Fisk Corp. Have you fought the Kingpin?"

Cindy shakes her head and places the bottle down. "We weren't here to talk business."

Cindy removes her red face cover and places it on the counter as she takes a deep breath. "I said I wanted to do this, right? So maybe it's you getting cold feet," she lifts an eyebrow playfully.

There was no denying the nervousness you were feeling inside your stomach. You were almost expecting to playfully explore the area with her instead of doing "it" instead. There was no experience after leaving your Earth to come to this one. Even though the levels of intimacy had been steadily growing these last few weeks, taking this step into your relationship felt as dangerous as fighting a villain.