#I felt bad I had to look up his full name and didn't know it off by heart :( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

swannieluv · 1 day

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖꩜ Wasted youth.

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Platonic!Ajax x GN!Reader

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐜: 11k

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆!!: violence, blood, death.

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐀/𝐍: IT'S FINALLY HERE! I hope everyone can enjoy this <3

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩. 𝐛𝐲 Tempo Perdido - Legião Urbana

✦⸼࣪⸳ likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated!! <3

Snezhnaya is not exactly a friendly nation. The cold that seems to run from the veins to the depths of people's innermost being brings with it a certain hostility towards those who don't know the heart of the land. But within Ajax's distorted childhood perception, Snezhnaya was like a gentle mother, protecting its children under icy embrace.

But then, why did such a loving land allow its own child to fall into the deepest depths of the Abyss? Like drowning in freezing water, a child who survived Teyvat's darkest and loneliest place would certainly not come out of it the same as he went in.

"Ajax" was still Ajax, wasn't he? The same child, named after a hero from ancient tales, full of compassion and empathy, now carried with him a gaze that was deader than the fish he caught on ice.

Joining the Fatui wasn't in his plans for the future; being one of them wasn't so bad, although he wasn't expecting much for the future. But what he didn't like was being the youngest in the unit, it was a complete humiliation.

Not that the seniors were a challenge for him, but being constantly underestimated was... infuriating, to say the least. While his strength was admirable — thanks to Skirk, he would thank her someday — Ajax felt constantly bored, with no meaningful challenge ahead of him.

"Redhead!" The call was accompanied by a snowball, which hit him square in the face; his moment of peace was interrupted, though it didn't really matter.

Ajax could only sigh before letting out a soundless laugh, knowing exactly who had hit him: [Name], a recruit not much older than him, maybe a year or so. Being under the same division, it wasn't unusual to bump into them. "Here it comes..."

They weren't exactly friends, more like acquaintances. However, they also kept in touch enough to be just "acquaintances". Never friends, perhaps not at all.

As if he had some kind of radar, [Name] always appeared whenever Ajax had his rare moment of philosophical thought of questionable quality. Usually to disrupt the whole process.

" Damn, looks like you really found me," he laughed, turning to look at them.

"That's the third time I've had to look for you this week," they complained, carefully preparing another snowball to throw at him. "I always get scolded because of you, you know that?"

They weren't exactly wrong. Whenever Ajax wandered off the map, it was [Name] who had to look for him in the frozen woods. Not that they really bothered to do it, but it was tiring going around in circles until they found him.

"Look at it as part of your job."

"Babysitting...?"

"No, looking after your companions."

"... How idiotic."

"How heroic. It's very noble to look after your friends, you know?" Ajax corrected. His eyes returned to scanning the surrounding trees in a relaxed manner.

"Not when said 'friends' get into trouble all the time," they retorted.

"I always come back, it's not like you need to hunt me down like I'm some criminal on the loose." He shook his head briskly, brushing the snow off the top of his hair. However, he was greeted with another sharp shot right to the scalp.

"Look... So, all due respect, but you're not far off being one, you know?" they shyly replied. Not in a rude way, but still a little offensive to whoever it was directed at.

He didn't know whether to laugh or feel offended by what they said. Maybe both? Well, they weren't exactly wrong... Ajax was already considered a marginal project, or at least it seemed that way.

"Why did you do that?"

"What? You have to specify or I won't know,” his smile fell, replaced by a neutral expression. He tried to feign ignorance, but it didn't work very well.

"Don't be cynical. You beat up an older soldier. Aren't you a little ashamed?”

Which soldier were they talking about? It didn't matter to him anyway, as he'd lost count of how many he'd challenged and won — it wasn't a difficult task, they were never a match for him.

All too often they were weak, and [Name] was the worst of them all. That's why Ajax didn't even bother trying when inviting them to a duel, because the result was obvious from the start. The last time they sparred, it was be boring, easy and not worth the effort.

"Should I be? If a soldier almost two meters tall can't beat up a 14—year—old, then that means he's a weakling, doesn't it?" Ajax crossed his arms. "Besides, he called me names before, so we're even."

"Seriously..." they sighed, "Seriously, try not to make such a fuss. The Fifth can get you out of most trouble, only until you do something, let's say, really catastrophic."

"Something catastrophic like...?" he asked curiously, his gaze fixed on them.

"Like... burning down the Zapolyarny palace?"

His jaw dropped in shock, and a touch of offense showed on his cold—pink face. That was the most absurd thing he had heard in recent times. "What?! Why do you think I would do something like that?"

"Because it's you we're talking about, redhead."

"What's with the nickname?"

"I think it's funny, don't you?"

"You know... whatever." Ajax put his hands on his waist, shaking his head slightly. "I'll take that as an excuse to put a nickname on you too."

"So you're going to stop with the ' comrade' thing and come up with something even worse? Really?"

"Maybe so... maybe not. Who knows?"

The boy gave a relaxed smile, patting them on the shoulder before moving on. His heavy footsteps in the snow served as a background noise to the uneasy silence around them.

"I found it."

"Hm? Found what?" Ajax raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

[Name] pulled out a red scarf, so familiar to Ajax, from inside their backpack, carefully tying it around his neck. The fabric was warm, or perhaps it was the feeling of zeal, or also the nostalgia it brought.

Ajax hadn't realized he had left it behind. And when he realized it, the difference between the cold air and the protection of the scarf was remarkable — was he so distracted that he didn't notice?

The boy's gloved hands touched the soft fabric of the scarf, bringing it closer to his face and snuggling into the warmth. "Where did you find it, comrade?"

" Somewhere, it doesn't matter." They put their hands in the pockets, looking around at the landscape around them. "Aren't you afraid of getting lost in the forest?"

Ajax let out a genuine laugh when he heard their question, as if it were something ridiculous. "Getting lost? I know my way around pretty well."

[Name] narrowed their eyes, firmly disbelieving Ajax's words. For them, the scenery remained the same, no matter how far they went — well, they didn't go very far at all.

"What? It's all the same, like... just trees and snow everywhere."

Ajax held back a laugh, as if what they'd said was completely dumb. "You're not from Snezhnaya, right?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Were you trying to hide it at all?" He couldn't help but laugh at the redness that appeared on [Name]'s face.

They were almost the scarlet color of their vision, which they proudly carried on a chain attached to their jacket. Pyro and Hydro, it was yet another thing that made them so opposite from each other.

"You know what, never mind! Just follow me." They extended a hand towards him, an almost forced offer.

Ajax hesitated, staring at the hand in front of him for a few long seconds before accepting it. He held it with some hesitation, not wanting to apply more force than he should have. He didn't mean to hurt, but he also had moments when he couldn't control his own strength.

They walked together through the snow, their steps in perfect sync. He noticed these small details as he looked down at the ground, thinking over and over again about an endless cycle. Sometimes, he just let that little silence take over his head, alone without direction, lost in the image of his own breath coming in the form of fog.

[Name] mumbled something, Ajax nodded, but forgot all about it soon after. They knew he wasn't paying attention, but didn't care, increasing the strength with which they held his hand.

"You don't like it here? Is that why you keep running away?"

"It's not running away if you come back.”

[Name] genuinely felt like punching Ajax in the face every time he opened his mouth and let out some stupid reason like this, but they would obviously leave it to imagination. The willingness wasn't lacking, but the courage was.

Perhaps if they were stronger, braver, they could say what they really wanted. But they weren't, and that kept them behind a fine line between the two, where Ajax always seemed to be in the front.

Everything in Snezhnaya, absolutely everything, filled them with an internal revolt. The cold that seemed to freeze them inside, the infinitely same path that seemed to lead nowhere, not being taken seriously — but for now, they would do anything to please those on top, especially since they were the ones in control of everything anyway.

"Don't ignore my question, go on. I know you heard me."

As soon as they arrived at the camp, they were greeted by an angry soldier with a large purple eye. That was the man Ajax had hit, and clearly he didn't look happy.

"Look, the bastard's really back," he said sarcastically, snapping his fingers. "Are you going to come at me for no reason like a savage again, like you did earlier?"

"Liar," they retorted, shaking their heads in denial and pointing a finger at the soldier, "you previously morally attacked Ajax, an exemplary boy..."

Ajax nodded, crossing his arms. Exemplary was by far what he was, but he had to agree with those who defended him. What he didn't expect was that they would retract their words soon after.

"...sort of."

"A... gentle boy?" They gave him a sideways glance, as if for confirmation; all he got back was a slight shake of the head.

"sort of..."

There was a lack of good adjectives to describe what he was — what he had become.

It would be less work if they just called him strong, but they didn't. They didn't want to reduce him to something. They didn't seem to want to reduce him to something the soldier in front of them already knew. Or rather, they didn't want to reduce Ajax to a simple strong boy.

They cleared their throats with a smile, grabbing Ajax by the collar, "Give us a second!"

Honestly, he was expecting a beating, not a strategy meeting behind a bush — not that he was going to complain, but at least he was hoping for a fight or something. His clenched fists contained the real desire to punch that soldier right in the face, but unfortunately he couldn't do that.

"'Sort of', really?" Ajax mimicked with a playful tone.

They rolled their eyes, fidgeting. "One of two ways: either I lie by calling you dumb, or I lie by calling you stupid!"

His jaw dropped for a moment. Was Ajax that stupid in their eyes? Not that he was the most self—controlled or straightforward person, but that dumb was an insult. "Oh, but I'm not dumb!"

"Perfect! Then you're stupid!"

The two of them stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Just as they didn't understand him, Ajax didn't understand them one bit.

"Seriously, I'm trying to help you... but then you have to help me help you."

"I think you've got it wrong. I appreciate the attempt, not to be rude... but I don't think I asked you to help me in the first place." He tried to smooth it over somehow, with that annoying little smile of his.

They felt their eyes ticking just hearing him, but soon pulled themselves together and returned the smile with a sarcastic tone intertwined with the words, "Really?”

"Mhm!" Ajax smiled. "Then I'm going for it, you said!"

Ajax ran off, abandoning them behind the bush to do whatever he wanted. Training, fighting, getting into another fight... it was all very unpredictable when it came to someone as peculiar as Ajax.

[Name] stood there, letting out a sigh as he thought about how weird this boy was. But there was no denying that Ajax was truly exceptional at getting out of trouble, and that made them more and more curious about him.

Sometimes, before going to sleep, Ajax would close his eyes and think about the day he'd had. He would ponder how small details were so easily erased — he couldn't remember who accompanied him on the march, or the name of the guy he had hit. But it was okay, it was fine not to remember.

The important thing was to keep going, without wasting time, and to move on. Ajax didn't need anything else, or anyone else, just himself to become very strong.

"Here you go, redhead." He was called by [Name], who threw a pillow right in his face.

" Man, you really like throwing things at me, don't you?" complained, pulling the pillow away from his face, "Have I become a punching bag now?"

"You forgot your pillow. If you wake up with a stiff neck, you'll be complaining in my ear all day tomorrow."

"I don't complain—"

"You think you don't, but you nag like an old man!"

Ajax threw himself backwards, lying on the mattress hugging the pillow close to his face. He muttered irritably to himself something almost inaudible, something that [Name] could only wish weren't curses in their direction.

"Look, I don't know what kind of problem you have," Ajax began, rolling his eyes in frustration, but soon changed his tone to something more playful, "if you want to settle something with me, come fight. Unless you're too much of a chicken not to fight someone younger and stronger than you."

"Whatever" [name] grumbled as they adjusted the flame of the lamp with their vision, "I already know I have zero percent chance against someone like... you."

"Why, comrade? It's not like I'm going to kill anyone in sight or anything like that." He smiled, giving a slight chuckle.

"Yes, of course, and I'm a slime" [name] sarcastically answered.

"Honestly, I don't mean to offend you or anything..." Ajax sat up, running a light hand through his hair to remove it from his face. "But I really wonder how someone so coward got into Fatui. I mean, you're afraid to even hold your own bow."

[Name] listened attentively to his words, but kept their gaze fixed on the lamp in her hands. It was the only source of warmth between them at the moment, and they couldn't let it go out so soon.

"The reason I'm in Fatui..." Their eyes did not leave the flame in hand, carefully observing the orange color that reflected on everything around him. [Name] avoided this question whenever it was asked, because they knew they weren't strong, and didn't force themselves to be, but the truth was too shameful.

"I believe I am indebted to Her Royal Highness the Tsaritsa. I must render my services for her generosity, and also... for this little thing here, which has guaranteed me everything I have now."

They picked it up and swung it around, the vibrant red gemstone seeming to emanate heat in a veritable mirage. Even though the temperature was almost below zero, it still retained its tiny hints of flame.

"Well, I guess that's it. I was born like anyone else, subject to mistakes and defects. But I don't think I'm worthless, after all..." they paused for a single second, letting out a sigh before continuing, "even doormats have their uses."

Ajax's face softened as he listened to them. He was speechless, sincerely mute without an answer to their words. No silly comment came to mind, just nothing. He waited a while in silence before finally asking: "Wow, that was something..."

"I think we've talked enough about me, what about you?" They asked with a little smile, and Ajax relaxed a little.

"About me? Hm... I think I have several stories! Like today when I punched that guy!" he cheered, throwing a fake punch in the air to represent his fight.

[Name] let out a simple laugh, amused by his actions. They thought the boy was a piece of work, silly but very funny; also very intriguing in every respect. At fourteen, joining the Fatui and doing well was something out of this world from everyone else's perspective.

"No, silly! I don't care about that sort of thing." They shook their heads in denial.

Ajax blinked twice, confusion clear on his face. "What...? So what do you want to know, anyway?"

They patted his head lightly, making Ajax turn as red as a tomato. It was unexpected, and he didn't know how to react to it, he wasn't prepared, but it wasn't that bad either. For the first time in a long time, Ajax allowed himself to receive a bit of care.

"Tell me, redhead," they called him by that silly nickname again, getting a funny look from him, "do you miss home at all?"

"Homesick? Hm... I don't know, I don't think so."

"Lying to yourself is always the worst kind of lie, so don't do this."

"If I really miss home..."

Home. Did Ajax really miss home? It was very hard for them to guess what was going through his head when all he did was fight and cause trouble. Although he had his ridiculous faults, there was still a gentle child inside, deep down.

Ajax was about to answer when it finally hit. It was the kind of question that nobody really asked in the Fatui. Everyone usually acted in accordance with their situation, there was no room in the Camp for whining.

The only tears were those that were left on the pillow, turned upside down as soon as the first rays of sun appeared in the morning. Hidden, sealed away from the gaze of others, while everything continued in the shadows.

He remembered perfectly the day he left home, beginning his career as a soldier.

Ajax checked his appearance one last time in the mirror. He didn't mind the state he was in, with a few scars on his hands and small scratches on his face from the mess that had occurred before he was enlisted — but he couldn't look relaxed either, Ajax needed to look presentable for some reason.

He could hear some whispering, not so quiet, of children behind him. He could see their reflections, curious as ever, but pretended not to have noticed, not wanting to end their failed attempt at spying.

When the clock finally struck a certain time, he knew it was time to go. Ajax had been preparing since the day before, when he received the news. It hadn't been easy to accept, but Ajax had no voice after everything he had done.

It was easy to feel the blood on his hands, even though he had washed them over and over again. While his combat skills were fascinating, it was frightening to see how easy it was to seriously hurt someone.

But at the same time, he felt the adrenaline of fighting pulsing through his veins, bringing with it an insatiable desire for battle. He didn't have a strong enemy, he didn't have anyone who could challenge his skills in this little corner of the world he lived in. Being the strongest shouldn't be so boring, at least not for him.

When he stepped out of his room, the first thing he saw were his little siblings. Their faces were full of questions, asking for an answer as to where he was going, why he was leaving and other questions that Ajax wasn't allowed to answer, nor was he in the mood to answer them.

This was what he really dreaded, the farewell.

He hugged each sibling as if it was the last time seeing them, his eyes filled with anguish disguised as emotion and tears that weren't exactly shed. He felt a knot down his throat — how hard it was to try and keep a smile, with such a conflicted feeling in his chest.

Perhaps that was the hardest part, because the younger ones had no idea where their older brother would end up. They didn't know that he was going where no other child should go. The only excuse he could come up with was something about a fantastic toy factory, and they bought it.

He swallowed it all, keeping his typical charisma in a comforting smile. Blindly lying to himself that all that was to come was just a distraction where he could meet stronger people, bigger obstacles and climb them without hesitation.

He ran down the stairs as if it was the last time, and it would be, because long gone was the boy who once smiled here. Hearing the children's voices saying casual goodbyes, as if it were just another ordinary day and that he would be back soon. Touching the banister, sliding along and feeling the texture of the wood, brought a little sadness. It was full of scratches and loose splinters, just the way he would remember it.

Taking a deep breath, he let the smell of wax invade his lungs for one last time. Little did he know, but this would become another moment for nostalgia in just a few days.

He hesitated to leave that warm place, so precious and cozy that it was the only thing capable of bringing a tear to his eyes after leaving the abyss. Not all things in life work out the way we want them to, and he needed to learn that, if only in the harshest way possible.

"Discipline" was what it was supposed to be, a form of punishment for all the trouble he had made. Like a staircase, Ajax climbed step by step in his acts of violence until he reached the irreversible point of his insatiable hunger for battle

But life always takes its toll. And for Ajax, life decided to give, demand and take away almost instantly.

Saying goodbye to his mother, who wrapped a red wool scarf around his neck, Ajax could only keep smiling. If it hadn't been for the hesitation and worry in her eyes, distressed that her young son would end up in a place like the Fatui, everything would have been so much easier.

"My little warrior," she called him, a cheesy nickname that suited the wild boy perfectly. While it was ironic in the past, given that Ajax was a big scaredy—cat, today it was just dumb, "Don't cause too much trouble... please."

The last sentence came in the form of a very faint whisper, which went almost unnoticed by Ajax. A real plea, almost desperate because of the lack of credibility he had at that moment. She didn't believe in him, evident in the exacerbated concern she showed in her mannerisms.

And if to comfort her, then Ajax was willing to put on his best and most convincing cheerful mask. He had always been a boy who loved his family, and that was something that not even the claws of the Abyss could take away from him.

"Yes, Mom."

Ajax did his best not to sound the least bit false when lying to his mother — He was, he couldn't deny that — But at least Ajax did it convincingly until he could gently slip away from her gentle touch.

"I'll take care of myself. Brush my teeth, comb my hair..."

"And eat well," she added, brushing the dirt off his clothes, making him more presentable.

"...And eat well, leave it to me!"

The woman sighed, letting go of the boy. With her watery eyes turned to the side, she shook her head as if to pretend that everything was fine — an attempt to make it clear that everything was all right, that Ajax shouldn't worry. But in the end, it was to comfort herself.

"Go..." she murmured with a sad smile, shaking her face slightly to let the tears go where they shouldn't, "go with your father before you're late, and don't stir up trouble, see? Your poor mother's heart wouldn't be able to handle it."

"I'll do my best, stay super strong and—"

He was interrupted by a small smack on the head from his father; it wasn't painful, not in the slightest... but it hurt for some reason, somewhere deep inside. All he did was look up, shrug and smile as usual.

"Let's go." That was the call Ajax had been waiting for to.

This was a moment of farewell, but he remembered that it wasn't eternal. Someday, he would return home with his chest puffed out and a huge, proud smile on his face — well, that's what he hoped for.

And so, the troublemaker set foot outside his home to become what no one, not even he, expected him to be one day. Looking back at his past, his younger self, fearful and innocent, disappointed but admiring, came to mind.

An icy breeze was the first thing that greeted Ajax when he opened the door and encountered the standard whiteness of the outside scenery. It was sudden, as if to extract any remnants of warmth he felt. People would say it was a good omen coming from the Tsaritsa, a sign of good fortune on his new path.

And it's what Ajax would like to believe.

"Ajax?"

Their voice woke him from his memories, bringing him back to reality. And then suddenly, he was back in that tiny tent, the one he had never left.

"Sorry. I spaced out, didn't I?" He covered his eyes with his forearm, tiredness was starting to set in.

"Just a little bit." [Name] decided to lie down too, covering themselves with their own blanket. Their hands then went to the lamp, offering it to him, "Can you use your vision to put it out?"

"Can't we just... not put out the fire?" Ajax asked weakly.

[Name] blinked twice in surprise, then cracked a smile to tease him. "What's the matter, are you afraid—"

"No, I'm not afraid of the dark..." he cut them off in mid—sentence, turning around so that he wasn't facing them. With his face covered by the pillow, Ajax lowered his voice. "But leave the fire burning, just for now... please."

It was the first time [Name] had seen him so vulnerable, with his guard down. With such a sincere request, they were at a loss for words — even though they really wanted to understand.

"Right..." They hesitated slightly as they released the lamp. "Sweet dreams, Ajax."

Without replying, they sighed. [Name] then put their head on the pillow, looking at him with a certain empathy. But then again, it was none of their business; he would tell them when he felt comfortable.

That night would be a long one, with the two of them lying awake without exchanging a single word.

Sometimes [Name] questioned their own common sense, especially when they followed Ajax's foolish ideas. Normally, the two of them would get into trouble and be forced to do the daily tasks because of it.

But after days of insistence on his part, they had finally agreed to go ice fishing in the middle of the night because it was the only free time the both had. Did they know how to fish? No, and certainly not on ice, but there's a first time for everything.

"Hm... I don't see anyone," Ajax whispered as he looked through a gap in the tent, making sure no one was awake at this hour.

"Hang on, I can't put these on!" [Name] tried to put their boots on, but couldn't make a decent knot. They were already frustrated, tying them any way and untying them when they realized it didn't lead anywhere.

Ajax let out a chuckle, their desperation to put on simple boots was utterly comical, "Let me help you."

"I can do it myself!" [Name] stared at the tangled shoelace with a certain determination, trying to undo what they had tied.

"You said that last week, yet you couldn't do it and we lost the training—"

[Name]'s face heated up in embarrassment. What he said was true, the two of them had missed it, all because they didn't know how to put on the boots offered with the new uniform, and had to clean the weapons as punishment — not that Ajax cared, it seemed he had only focused on admiring the swords and guns rather than cleaning them.

"Shh! That's in the past!" they tried to shut him up.

Ajax shook his head slightly. He knelt down and stared at the blind knot they had tied, taking his hands to the shoelaces to straighten out the mess. "I'll teach you, check it out."

He carefully tied their shoes, making a firm loop. It was just like at home, when he helped his younger siblings put on their boots to play outside. When recalling this, an unconscious smile appeared on Ajax's lips, followed by a giggle.

"Are you laughing at me?" [name] asked, offended.

"No—" Ajax looked up, and then laughed, seeing the funny look they were making. "Yes, I am now!"

[Name] grabbed him by the cheek, hurrying him out of the tent with them. "Stop laughing, they'll wake up and it'll be our doom!"

"All right, all right!" Ajax exclaimed, removing their hand from his sore cheek. "You talk just like my mother when she scolds me..."

[Name] looked at him, smiling before teasing him. "No way, I mean, I pity your mother for having to put up with a son like you."

Ajax's frowned, he really did look offended by what they had said. "I have no idea what you're talking about, I've always been a very well—behaved child!"

"Oh, sure... if you say so, who am I to doubt it?" they agreed sarcastically. There wasn't a shred of confidence in his word.

There were endless minutes of walking and exchanging small insults. Under the moonlight, the two made their way calmly, getting further and further away from the camp. If they were lucky, no one would find out that they had run away.

They would be fishing in a frozen lake, a large mirror that reflected the light of an aurora. It was a breathtaking sight, as if they could touch the sky, and they took a cautious first step onto the it.

"Damn!" They slipped, having only the instinct to hold on to something.

"Whoa! Watch it there, comrade!" Ajax helped them regain their balance, holding them up by the arms. He took slow steps backwards so that [Name] wouldn't slip again.

[Name] smiled a little awkwardly, embarrassed. "Thanks but... This ice won't break with us on it, right?"

Ajax shook his head and firmly tapped his foot on the frozen surface, which remained intact. "It's pretty sturdy, see?"

"I see." [Name] turned their attention upwards and admired the greenish glow again. " Snezhnaya's night sky is a fascinating sight, isn't it? Even though I've seen it several times, I'm always amazed by its beauty..."

Ajax had already seen the real starry sky, the true and uncovered light of the celestial bodies. To refer to this gloomy canvas as a "fascinating sight" is an absurd statement, for it is only an empty imitation of what lies beneath the veil of the Abyss.

"You're really satisfied with anything, huh?" Ajax scoffed, with a hint of a smile on his face, "It's just floating lights, it gets boring after a while."

"Is there anything that doesn't get boring for you?" [Name] watched as Ajax started to cut the ice in a circular pattern, which appeared to be a not too difficult job for him. "Are you sure this works? I mean, it's just ice... I don't know if there's anything alive down there."

Ajax sat, eyes fixed on the hole in front of them. He hugged his knees and remained there, staring at the immensity and waiting for what would happen next. "Don't worry, we'll catch one in... a few minutes, I think."

"In about how many minutes, exactly?"

Ajax looked up thoughtfully. "A few."

"I swear to the archons, if you made us come here for nothing..." [Name] grumbled, watching the boy next to them. The way he insisted on his ideas impressed them, at the same time as it irritates; but seeing that serene face made them let out a little laugh, "Never mind, I'm the idiot one for following you."

[Name] sat down next to him, resting their face in one hand as Ajax and them waited patiently. Those moments of serenity were the complete opposite from the battles that took place everyday.

They had already seen several "comrades" fall, their lives taken while protecting the Fatui's interests. Interests that were unknown and hidden from the vast majority, concealed by individuals whose faces were unknown to many.

The Harbingers themselves were a kind of urban legends who, while everyone knew of their existence, were enigmatic and symbolic figures within the organization.

"What exactly are we fighting for?" [name] asked. There wasn't exactly a reason, because no one ever said the real purpose of the blood shed on the snowy battlefield.

Everyone's admiration and fear of the Harbingers was obvious. But just as they were feared, the kind of people whose presence is everywhere, there were more questions than answers as to their real motivation.

The closest they had seen was the Fifth, Pulcinella. [Name] didn't understand why they had been placed in his division, being a complete fool who couldn't hold a weapon without getting nervous. Even more so when, in the same division, there was Ajax.

A confused expression appeared on Ajax's face when he heard the question. Wasn't the answer obvious? At least, it was logical. "For Her Royal Highness, the Tsaritsa—"

"No, I know that. I'm talking about why we need to fight, the purpose of it all... We have a mission in a few days, and we don't even know what they want from us."

"I fight because I'm strong, isn't that enough?" Ajax seemed genuine in his response, with no hidden ambitions behind the battles he fought against his opponents. At the end of the day, it seemed to be all about the will to get stronger and better.

"No, it's not." [Name]'s gaze was serious, demanding an answer that would satisfy their curiosity. For them, Ajax was an extremely difficult puzzle to solve — a young boy who possessed the strength of a monster. But at the same time, had a heart as pure as gold. "Your name... was inspired by a hero, right? Do you want to be like them, the hero of the story?"

Ajax nodded, giving them a smirk. He remembered the old days, when he wasn't the least bit brave or powerful, just a fearful boy with a sword and a dream. "I think I'd rather be myself. It's much more fun when you do things your own way, don't you agree?"

"Well... it is, it really is." [Name]'s firm gaze softened. "Ajax, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

The boy froze in place. His mouth opened to speak, but the words he wanted to say didn't come out. He had no answer, even if he thought about it — Ajax simply didn't know.

"When I grow up..." he repeated to himself, looking for an answer, any answer. "I honestly don't know... I think I'll end up having to stay in Fatui."

"Idiot..." [name] grumbled, "I'm not saying you can't do what you want, but let's be honest with ourselves for a moment. Who would willingly stay in this hellhole?"

"Me," Ajax answered immediately, without a hint of hesitation in his speech, "If I go back home, I'll only make more trouble. Just the fact that I'm here makes life easier for everyone, and I can improve my skills."

"Of course you'd say that." They shook their heads, completely disapproving of his choice. They got up from where they sat, offering him a glance. "I envy you, you know that?"

"Hm? You..." Ajax looked up and pointed at them, then at himself. "...envy someone like me?"

"How can I not? You're strong, hopeful, stubborn and very proud," [name] listed, raising a finger for each adjective they found to describe him. "How can I not envy someone like you? You're like..."

"Everything I've always dreamed of being like."

They both uttered the same sentence at the same time, their voices becoming a unison sound that gave way to an awkward silence between them. Their eyes seemed to pierce each other, staring into the depths of the souls in search of some understanding.

"Trust me, I know what it's like," Ajax sighed, "to want to be braver, but at the same time to be too afraid of doing so."

Ajax turned his gaze back to the freezing water. Its darkness brought back vague memories of the abyss. The simple act of fishing was enough to push Ajax's mind back to the past, when he listened to his father's stories — maybe, just maybe, he really wanted to be as great as the heroes in them.

Ajax had once been a poor, fearful boy, terrified of the world outside, but with a spirit hungry for adventure. He had only a shortsword and a bag of bread — anyone could say that it was at that moment, before his fall into the confines of Teyvat, that Ajax began his transformation into what he's now.

"It's not a story I tell anyone, but I used to be a real coward," he admitted, letting out a sigh. "If one day you get stronger... like I did, would you duel with me?"

"Of course..." they smiled, making an x with their arms. "Not!"

Ajax's expression fell, replaced by that of an abandoned puppy. "But why?"

[Name] laughed at his face, crossing their arms. "Don't you remember when we first met?"

For them, the events that led to their current situation were clear as day. From before their enlistment, to the first day in the division.

They were born into a humble family, without any kind of comfort or privilege. [Name] grew up hearing all the stories about the archons and their extraordinary feats, about how lucky those who gained visions were. However, they never understood why their family admired such deities when all they received was misery.

Their parents, in a desperate act, borrowed a large amount of money, which they couldn't pay back. Disaster would be the appropriate word to describe what happened when the deadline for repaying these debts passed. As they were unable to pay, the two were killed by the debt collectors.

But [Name] always had somewhat of a way with their words, and that was the weapon they used to survive in a world like this. Somehow, they managed to negotiate their lives, in exchange for serving in the Fatui army instead of paying off an endless quantity of mora.

And shortly afterwards, [Name] were taken to the Cryo nation, landing in the middle of a terrible blizzard. If it hadn't been for the pyro vision they carried in their hands, [Name] wouldn't be alive to tell the tale, having become an ice statue.

And it was in an old and spacious office where [Name] took their first step towards their new reality. Quite nervously, their hands firmly held a document with all the information about their new career, leaving crumpled marks on its edges. [Name] had never thought they'd be offered to properly work, especially when the job was with none other than Fatui.

They were facing a short, stoic Fatui agent with a big nose and glasses. He seemed like a friendly fellow, but [Name] knew better than to trust someone who worked for those who had killed their family.

"What's your name, child?" asked the man in front of them, as he typed on a typewriter.

They had never seen anything like this, a machine that wrote for people? Unthinkable, it seemed magical, even. [Name] was so glued to it that, for a second, they forgot to answer.

"It's... [Name], that's all. I don't have a last name..."

The agent stopped his notes, giving [Name] a skeptical look. It was enough to make them nervous, unconsciously taking a small step backwards, lowering their head.

"Answer me..." The man went back to typing. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No, sir. I'm from far away..." they sighed, murmuring, "very, very far...."

"Are you sure you'd like to join Fatui? You're still too young, don't you think it's a big responsibility?"

The agent gave them a gentle smile, different from the look he had given them before. It was as if he was truly giving [Name] a choice — but the truth was, if they didn't accept it, they would probably end up in the same shallow grave as their parents.

"Forgive me, sir, but it's not a question of wanting, it's a question of needing," they replied calmly, "someone has to pay these debts, right? Mora doesn't grow on trees."

[Name] wondered if they had said something wrong, since their tone hadn't exactly been friendly, mentally scolding themselves. But to their surprise, instead of getting scolded, [Name] heard a faint but present chuckle coming from the other person.

"You should thank Her Majesty the Tsaritsa for your kindness," he said, handing them the piece of paper he had been typing on, "how many people do you think have had an opportunity like this, to have their debts absolved and a job guaranteed?"

"Absolved?"

"Exactly, absolved. All we need from you, child, is your loyalty. I can see the potential, but it all depends solely on you." He pointed at their vision, hanging from their waist with a faint shine. "Surely, you're lucky enough to possess one of these."

For anyone else, receiving a vision is a blessing. However, being in possession of one is like having an eternal debt to the world. To be chosen is to be special, and to be special enough to receive a vision is to be distinct from the rest.

Sometimes it became a curse. One can no longer live like a normal person, because there will always be something that sets them apart from the rest. All those who are given one struggle in some way — Has there ever been a vision holder who truly lived an entire life peacefully, without any conflict whatsoever? At least in Snezhnaya, it seemed not.

"I... I accept..." Their eyes filled with hope, looking at their own name perfectly typed on the document. There was the real identity of the gentleman in front of them, revealed in a fancy signature, the Fifth of the Fatui Harbingers, Pulcinella.

[Name] signed their names in the blank space, sealing their fate within the organization. From that moment on, they would be part of the Fatui, just one more in the crowd — But if that was what it took to ensure their survival, [Name] would do it without hesitation.

The real issue, however, was on the first day of duty, and it had a name: Ajax.

[Name] had just put on their uniform, which was a little big for their size. But then again, there were none designed for a fifteen-year-old to wear, so they'd have to be content with what they had on hand.

At least the jacket they were given was comfortable, warm enough to block out some of the bitter cold that surrounded them each second. [Name] even looked like a proper person in it, which made them let out a little laugh.

However, it wasn't until they were standing in line in a meaningful formation that [Name] noticed a boy of a similar age to them. Red curls that stood out against the white backdrop, with a red scarf that was too long for his neck — perhaps they weren't completely alone in that place.

[Name] waited patiently until the time came for them to start training, watching him with eagle eyes, following Ajax wherever he went. When they finally mustered up the courage, they approached him and extended a hand towards him.

"Hello, I'm [Name],"

"Hey!" The boy grinned and shook their hands firmly. "I'm Ajax!"

"Well... looks like we're the same age, huh? How about we train together?" they suggested, thinking it was the best option.

"Sure!" Ajax nodded, putting the sword he was holding aside. "That would be, like... an invitation to battle, right?"

Technically, it was, so they just followed the his reasoning and confirmed it. "Mhm!"

"Then get ready!" he announced, preparing to throw a full punch.

[Name] didn't react immediately, surprised at the speed of the boy who had already set up his punch. "W-WAIT—"

Thud.

Complete darkness was how the first and last friendly match between the two ended, with Ajax knocking them out with a single punch. That's how [Name] would learn that fighting Ajax was a trap. However, [Name] wouldn't lie that at least it had been the best sleep they'd had in months — and the worst black eye they'd ever gotten, too.

"Teyvat to [Name]?" They awoke from their thoughts to see Ajax's hand moving in front of their face. He then tapped them on the forehead. "Is anyone there?"

"Oh, sorry, I got distracted. I was just remembering the punch you gave me." They laughed. "Speaking of which, you also punched that guy the other day too... what's with punching people, redhead?"

"I've already apologized!" His face heated up with embarrassment. "And punching is way more practical. You'd be shocked if you knew how strong a punch from me can really be, when I throw one for real!"

"Hm, sure, no doubt about it—"

"I got one!" Ajax exclaimed, trying to pull the line back on the rod with great difficulty. "A little help would be nice, you know!"

[Name] hurried, wrapping their arms around him and pulling back to bring the fish to the surface. But the animal wouldn't cooperate, even with the effort they made take it out of the water.

Ajax took a step back. "That was fast!"

"Fast? We've been waiting for almost an hour—" They slipped on the ice, pulling him and the fish along with them. In the end, Ajax and [Name] both fell flat, like two idiots.

[Name] looked at him, who was holding the fish in his hands while the animal struggled in them. It was a funny sight, which was enough to get a genuine laugh out of them.

"Haha..." they laughed weakly, then raised their tone, "Hahaha!"

Ajax, hearing the sound of their giggles, bursted into laughter. He laughed so hard that small tears formed in his eyes, "Hahaha... What are we laughing at?"

[Name] pointed at him, "At you, you fool!"

"Oh, really?!" Ajax stood up, bringing the fish in his hands near them. "Let's see who gets the last laugh!"

[Name] got up and ran across the ice, running away from him. They slipped and balanced, with an infectious smile on their faces accompanied by the sweet sound of their laughter, while Ajax chased after them with the animal.

It was moments like this that reminded them that they weren't adults, but two true children at heart.

At least once a week, Ajax and [Name] were sent on missions. They weren't often in charge of the more complicated ones, as they were still too young. However, for the first time, the two of them were allowed to take part in a more risky operation.

The two were supposed to stay with the older ones, but [Name] found themselves alone, having gotten separated from the rest by accident. In the middle of such a large forest, they could only hope that a blizzard wouldn't strike right away.

[Name] analyzed their surroundings, trying to retrace the steps that led them to nowhere and return to where the division had planned to reunite. However, they seemed to go round in circles, never reaching their destination.

That's when they noticed a coat lying in the snow. It was brown, very different from the Fatui soldiers' uniform, with a shabby finishing and a gross smell of blood.

Pow.

That's what they heard, a loud, familiar sound that sent shivers down their spines. Looking up, they saw a bullet hole in the tree, well above their heads — by perhaps two centimeters, they would no longer be alive.

"...!" [Name] instinctively looked for the source of the sound, quickly finding it.

Their desperate eyes met another's, which held no pity. Yet another soldier, wounded, carrying a gun and a tremendous amount of hatred — not everyone liked the Fatui, and not everyone had sympathy just because they were a child.

Frightened, [Name] ran desperately, followed by fierce gunfire that almost hit them. [Name] hid behind a tree and drew out their bow, but couldn't hold it properly no matter how much they tried, since it always slipped from their hands.

The enemy was indeed wounded, but armed and apparently experienced. The look in his face had been enough to send shivers down their spine, because when compared to them, who couldn't even use their vision properly, it was like facing a real monster.

"It'll be all right..." they whispered to themselves. "I just need to—"

[Name] heard more gunshots, too close to where they were. Something told them to run, but also to stay, accept the invitation and have a proper fight. If it was to survive, then [Name] would fight, they needed to.

[Name] couldn't hide forever, it wouldn't be right.

"Come on, you bastard!" [name] shouted, their voice echoing through the woods, as they aimed their bows in the direction of the enemy.

They used their vision and set the arrow ablaze, burning their own fingertips in the process. They didn't know how to control the force with which the arrow burned, but they knew it would hurt anyone who was struck.

[Name] clumsily launched the first arrow, dodging a shower of bullets headed their way. They hoped it was enough, that they had been able to send it flying at his face. But instead, the projectile pierced through his shoulder.

"Damn!" the soldier shouted, trying to reload his weapon while wincing in pain, but his ammunition had run out.

He came up and pistol—whipped them, causing [Name] to cry out in pain for a few seconds. The impact was so intense that they dropped their weapon and fell into the snow.

[Name] then felt the real despair of being weak. They could hear their hearts pounding in their ears and their eyes watering from the pain of the blows they received to the head, while blood trickled down their faces.

They grabbed his foot, applying pyro to their hands to make his boot burn along with it. When he fell, it was then that they saw their chance to stay alive handed to them on a platter.

They reached for the bow that lay on the ground next to them, firmly holding it anyway. Nothing mattered, only survival and that was all — they only needed to survive, to live long enough to prove that they were capable.

It didn't take much for one person to kill another, just despair. That feeling of helplessness and genuine dread, which would move mountains if necessary, was all it took to pull the trigger.

They violently hit the enemy in the face with their own bow, as if it were a bat. It was only when the return attacks stopped that they realized what they had done. The body below had an expression of terror, eyes wide as blood dripped onto the white snow, staining its purity with a crimson shade.

"I—I didn't... I did this...?" They stared at their bloodied hands, feeling their heart beating wildly against their chest. That's when, suddenly, an incessant urge to cough overtook them, but only blood came from their mouth.

[Name] looked down and realized that they had been shot in the chest. The bullet had gone through what seemed to be their lung, they didn't know, the adrenaline was hiding the pain for as long as it took. However, the spot hit was clearly a lethal wound.

They took two clumsy steps backwards, shaking their heads in denial. [Name] was too afraid to do anything like that, taking a life itself was too cruel an act for them, but it was done.

However, they didn't want to die as murderers, not really. So, with determination, [Name] decided they wouldn't die there.

They turned around and ran that time like there was no tomorrow, using every drop of adrenaline they still had in their bodies. [Name] couldn't see the sun shining, only the same gray clouds that covered the sky, which seemed to mock the fact that there was no light at the end.

Their only way out was to get to the camp, where there should be healers waiting for the wounded. However, it was difficult for [Name] to distinguish the landscape around them, especially in such a nervous state.

[Name] tripped over their own foot, losing their balance and rolling painfully down the mountain. They watched life pass before their eyes, each moment painful with the intention of just surviving, not living. Then they closed their eyes tightly, already bracing themselves for a more abrupt impact and accepting certain death.

They hit a tree, before rolling one last time to the bottom of the hill. Fortunately, or not, it was low enough for them not to die on impact — they did wish it had been stronger, ending it all quickly.

[Name] felt like a bird, floating in the sky with their eyes closed. They thought they had died because of the serenity felt for a few seconds, only to be crushed by the cruel reality. Their fall had been gently cushioned by the snow, but even with all this effort, they couldn't see the camp — which meant it had all been in vain.

Finally, the pain returned to their body as if it had never left. Breathing was difficult, with each breath being painful in the extreme, as if their organs were punishing them for still being alive.

"N—No," they sobbed through words, hot tears contrasting with the coldness that cruelly coursed through their veins. "I—I hate it... I wanted to die in peace, not like this... Not like this..."

Their trembling hands squeezed the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. [Name] didn't know how much time they had left, they didn't want to know either, all left to do was pray to Tsaritsa and beg for a little mercy, for a quick death if possible.

[Name] still hadn't paid their debt to Her Majesty, for the life they had been offered. For the bread to eat every day, for the tent they had over their heads, for letting them breathe, for letting them remain in existence, they had to do their utmost to repay all the favors with whatever they could.

For the gratuitously heavy insults that they had to swallow in silence because they were weak; for the mountains and snowstorms that brought them down along the way; for the disgraceful defective vision of theirs — or rather, they were the defective ones.

"P—Please..." [Name] begged the nothing, while holding their vision close to their chest, "if miracles really do exist…”

How many things had [Name] thrown away, when what they wanted most was to prove to everyone that, even if they were weak, they didn't need to prove anything to anyone? [Name] didn't know, only the bitterness of a wasted time remained in their hearts.

They let their tears fall over the flaming orb, whose glow no longer seemed the same. With one last kiss to the gem, a silent thank you, they began to weep for a life they were about to lose.

There would be no one to mourn their death, to lament the defeat of someone who had never once won. They probably wouldn't even have a funeral, but would just be buried somewhere like an animal. How terrible would it be to be completely forgotten, with no soul to remember their existence?

And Ajax, their only friend... finally acknowledged this fact. Would the boy be desolate? Grieve? Or would he carry on as he always seemed to do?

They regretted not having told him things in life that only they could say. They could only hope for the best, that he wouldn't take the news that badly — but at the same time, there was a small, selfish desire for him to feel their death. Not because [Name] wanted him to suffer, but because that way they would know that they mattered to someone.

[Name] recalled the memories they had made with him, like when they first met, when they went ice fishing a few days ago. The image of how they ran and laughed with him that night, as if they weren't the next ones to die, was fresh.

At last, their body felt light, receiving a moment of tranquillity reserved for the end of endings, when [Name] felt nothing but the slow rhythm of their heartbeats, fighting for a lost cause, as if they didn't have two holes in their chests.

"I was truly... useless until the end, wasn't I...?" [Name] murmured what they knew would be their last words, a vent to themselves and to the world. With the last beat of their hearts and the cessation of their breathing, snowflakes touched the now freezing skin. "I hope I have served you well... Your Majesty..."

They died in silence, without disturbing anyone.

Meanwhile, with the mission over, Ajax found himself extremely bored. Contemplating the pure white snow stained with blood as he returned to camp had already become a habit of his.

He could not care less that his face had a few small scratches on it. Though, he had to admit, that any kind of mission made him tired. But before he could rest, he found a place to rest. So Ajax began to look for them throughout the camp, without any success in his search.

'They must be receiving medical care...' He thought, as he made his way towards the tent where the doctors were staying.

It was a small space that was often crowded with the number of people wounded during missions. Finding any specific person was difficult, even more so when he was being pestered to be treated right away because he was younger.

"Are you sure you don't want to go first?" one of the doctors asked, placing a hand on his bruised face.

"No, I'm fine!" Ajax smiled. "I'm just looking for..."

For some reason, his eyes fixed on a particular corner of the tent. Away from the rest, it was where they put the bodies of those who had perished in combat; but Ajax had never taken much notice of it, so why now?

He approached slowly, in silence. Ajax felt an uncharacteristic nervousness come over him, running through his veins. The chills he felt seemed to swallow him up from the inside out, it had been a long time since Ajax had felt like this, as if something was screaming "don't go there, stay here" and attempting to keep him from discovering the truth, as he approached a particular cloth.

He stopped in front of the covered figure, noticing something sticking out of the cloth. An object, a... vision. But the only ones in the entire division who possessed one were him and... [Name].

Terror was too little to describe what overtook Ajax, who hesitated to lift the cloth covering the individual's face. He wished he wouldn't hear his head and believe that they weren't the dead man in front of him.

With trembling hands, which he tried to stop, Ajax lifted the fabric slightly. And that's when the ground really seemed to crumble beneath him — they were dead, [Name] was truly dead.

Their skin was so pale and cold that it scared him a bit. But what particularly caught Ajax's eye was the sheer amount of blood they had lost, as their face and hair were completely stained a deep crimson red; and no one had bothered to close their eyes, devoid of life and its particular glow. Now, they were just a pit of darkness that matched his own.

"..." Ajax just stared, unable to say anything. Everything was trapped inside, without him being able to express it.

Ajax tried to tell himself that he didn't care, that they weren't really friends, just work colleagues. But the sadness in his heart betrayed the stoicism he tried so hard to maintain.

Ajax closed their eyes gently and kissed [Name]'s forehead gently before covering their face with the cloth again. It was an action that any mother would take on seeing her child dead, but they didn't have one to weep over their death — and if there wasn't one, then Ajax would play his part in showing respect for them.

Ajax may even have changed when he fell into the abyss, becoming a maniac for fighting and confusion. But at the end of the day, he was human just like everyone else.

Two days later, the tent they shared was cold, without the heat of the lamp to warm Ajax up, as it had already gone out with the icy wind coming through the gap in the entrance.

It was [Name] who kept them warm in the middle of the night, using their vision to keep the fire burning. And that was just a bitter reminder that they were no longer there.

The others had taken away everything that was theirs, accommodating what would be the belongings of a new tentmate, who would be arriving in a few days. It was as if they had ceased to exist altogether.

Ajax wouldn't mind being hit in the face with a pillow if they were the ones to hit him, with that smile, with that irritating tone of voice of theirs that Ajax recognized from afar. He wouldn't mind being called "redhead" again, if it was them calling him that.

"Ajax?" The voice that called him from outside was familiar to Ajax. It was the Fifth.

Ajax promptly got to his feet, walking outside the tent and greeting him politely, a treatment he reserved only for The Rooster. "I'm here, sir."

"I heard that one of your companions fell in battle... a shame," the Harbinger said, as he searched for something in his pocket. "Well, here it is..."

The man handed him a gray envelope, a letter. In the corner was written in almost illegible handwriting the names of the sender and recipient, respectively: [Name] and Ajax.

"Thank you, sir," he nodded, holding the envelope tightly in his hands.

"You were both very similar ages, you and..." the Rooster paused, having forgotten their name.

"[Name]." It was the first time Ajax had said their names, having called them "comrade" all the time since they'd met. Honestly, it hurt a little, how difficult it was to utter a simple phoneme.

A few minutes later, Ajax said goodbye to the Harbinger and entered the darkness of the tent again. He left out a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever was written inside that envelope.

Ajax could no longer remember what The Rooster had talked about, only that the exchange of words had been short, like all the others before. He didn't even have the mind to think about it now, he could apologize later if he forgot some important information.

But right now, the only thing that mattered to Ajax was [Name]'s letter. He opened the envelope, trying to be careful not to tear it, but in the end he did. Ajax strained his eyes to read what was written there, in a handwriting as bad as theirs.

Dear Ajax,

Should I start a letter with "dear"? I don't know, honestly, I have never written one. Well, if this letter found you, then that means I must be dead by now. I'm sure you're glad I did, as you'll now have the whole tent to yourself.

I've written this because I know that, in life, I might not be able to say what I think. I believe we're already friends, don't you too? That's how I feel about you, I think you're my only friend, and I've been very happy about that. Thank you, thank you very much, for the joyful and humorous moments you've provided me with in this little end of the world that is Snezhnaya.

I asked you the other day if you felt homesick; you may deny it, but I can understand how you feel, away from everyone you love in a place like this. Know that whatever may happen, I believe that the same people you miss feel the same way you do.

Don't listen to that little voice in your head that whispers "you're nothing but trouble", it's stupid. When I look at you, I don't see a troubled boy, but a boy with the heart of another. That day we were late for training, you could just as well have walked away and let me be punished for being late, but you didn't. We cleaned all the weapons by ourselves. We polished all the weapons alone, for hours, and you never complained. Why was that?

I don't know, but I'd like it to stay that way, so keep going! I'll be cheering you on from wherever I am, because you're the best warrior I've ever had the honor of meeting.

I end this letter with my admiration and gratitude to you; and never forget: we have our own time!

With much care,

[Name].

A single tear fell onto the paper, right below their name, accompanied by others that would soon form a hot waterfall in his eyes. Ajax didn't know how to respond to this, covering his face with the paper, as if he was embarrassed to end up being seen like this

Perhaps it was for the better, a reminder that life really wasn't fair, and that Ajax had strayed from the path he was on. He didn't want to care so much, but at the same time he did.

Ajax wanted someone to comfort him, to tell and reassure him that it was all right, that this sort of thing did happen, but at the same time, it didn't. It was hard, very hard, to face it. It was difficult, very difficult, to face the loneliness that he tried so hard to hide behind brute strength.

Anyone who saw him like that would doubt that he was the same person who ravaged the battlefield with his bloodlust, the boy who seemed like an uncontrollable monster with an indomitable spirit, causing trouble wherever he went.

But for one last time, in the darkness of that tent, he allowed himself to be... Vulnerable.

#swanniesarchive <3 #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin platonic #ajax x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader

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thefloatingstone · 1 year

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I notice I seem to want to tag every Mass Effect character with their first name AND Surname for whatever reason (I have long stopped questioning why I do anything in life) but my brain was like "you should tag Mordin's full name then lol"

and honestly I would for the bit but there is 0 chance I am gonna be able to memorise "Sur'Kesh Talat Talat Oxe Solus Mordin"

#I felt bad I had to look up his full name and didn't know it off by heart :(#Also oh he was born on Sur'Kesh!#a home planet baby #Mass Effect #Mordin Solus #Oh wait but most Salarians are home planet babies because of their gender balance #ok nevermind. Forget I was impressed by that #I forgor

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madamtrashbat · 3 months

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When I was ten, we lived on a rice farm with a lot of big buildings in the middle of nowhere. One of the shitty employees of the rice farm decided that, because we had barn cats on the premises, it was perfectly fine to dump a litter of very small kittens into one of the barns.

(I hate her I hate her I hate her)

The kittens were not old enough to be on their own, and despite one of the barn cats looking after them, the majority of them did not make it. All except for one, a little tuxedo that let my dad pick it up.

He brought it into the house, and I decided I was going to nurse it back to health. He was mostly black with a white chin, little white toes, and a white belly. He was so small. I fell in love with him.

I named him Pookie.

He would curl up in the crook of my neck and sleep on my shoulder, where it was warm. He was eating the cat food I mushed up with water, and for three days I thought he might make it.

Then, inexplicably, our dog Fancy, a heeler/shepherd mix, attacked him in the laundry room. She had never done anything like that before and never did anything like that afterwards. I never knew why she did what she did.

I begged my parents to take him to the vet. Please, see if there's anything we can do. I want to save him so badly.

But we had very little money at the time, and my mom couldn't justify an enormous vet bill for a cat we'd had for less than a week that there was surely nothing to do for.

I put him in his basket that night with food and water and many blankets. He had no external injuries besides a nosebleed, so I hoped it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

He didn't see the morning. My dad buried him in the flowerbed without much ado.

I cried for two days into the arms of an unsympathetic mother who didn't understand why I felt so strongly over a cat we'd had for three days, bombarded with criticism from a judgmental sister who severely disliked cats. My dad did his best to try and comfort me, but he's not the best with emotions and didn't know what to say.

It has stuck with me for 20 years. I wonder, from time to time, if I did enough. If I'd kept him in my room instead of the laundry room, if I'd looked up how to care for him, if I'd kept closer watch on him and kept the dog away from him, would he have lived. Would he still have been my cat. Would he have known a life of love and warm fireplaces and full bellies and cuddling into my shoulders until he was too big to fit.

I'll never know.

I told Sawyer about this recently, in a moment of emotional upheaval where I was just spewing out a list of things that had happened in my past that I'd never really gotten over. The conviction of my sadness apparently struck a deep chord with Sawyer, who decided to make me a memorial for Pookie to keep his memory close.

No one else had taken my emotions regarding Pookie seriously. Not until now. And not only did Sawyer take it seriously, the emotional vomit of an adult woman still crying over a cat she had for three days in fifth grade, but Sawyer thought it important enough that it should never be forgotten.

It's nice, sometimes, to know the person you've chosen to go through life with is the best person in the world for you.

#tw animal death #tw animal abuse

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toast-on-dandelioms · 3 months

Text

🕷️Just Another Neglected Story 🕷️

[previous] - Part 4.2 - [next]

I will add here the rest of the tag list, sorry for having to divide it into two

Clark immediately grabbed the door and punched it right in the middle of it, making a hole to which he used to grab the door off its hinges and throw it away, not caring about anything but Spider's wellbeing.

He was the first one to enter the room, looking around to see if Joker was still there so he could kill the bastard who dared to hurt his child.

Bruce was the second to enter and immediately walked around to find the vigilante, stopping to stare in silence at the cold body of Joker stuck on the wall.

He checked for a pulse, not too worried about the clown but needed to see if he was worth saving, letting out a small sigh when he felt no pulse.

He sighed once again, mostly out of anger since he wanted to be the one to kill the man who dared to hurt his child (Spider), before starting to worry that if Spider knew that they killed a man, he didn't know how they would react to the news.

He quickly looked away and went back to search for the teen, now even more worried about their wellbeing, especially when Clark told him that he could hear their heartbeat but it was incredibly slow, which meant that he couldn't find them immediately.

As he looked around the room, he kept on getting angrier as he saw drops of blood from fighting and some weapons and bullets that Joker probably used on Spider since they were all covered in blood.

As he searched around he heard Superman call for him and quickly ran up to him, finding a gravely injured Spider with their mask ripped off and full of bruises on their face and body.

Their body was also covered in bruises and wounds made from Joker, their ragged breath accentuating the severity of their injuries.

He gently called them using their vigilante name since no one knew their real name, sighing in relief when Spider opened their eyes to look at him and hissed at him, not recognising him or Clark because of their injuries and how scared they were.

They calmed down after Clark gently called out to them and got in their line of vision then started talking with a broken voice as their eyes filled with tears, the words having to be repeated because of how much Spider sobbed and gasped from the pain of their injuries.

"h-he kept laughing and hitting me after a weird gas poured in the room, I d-didn't want to hurt him but I punched him out of desperation, h-he's been so silent and I-I don't know if he's even alive, I'm so sorry".

He set a hand on their head after taking off the rest of their mask to help them see better and just told them, with a soft voice that even Clark was a bit taken aback, "you did good kid, I'm sorry you had to fight alone" as he knew what Joker was capable of and was glad Spider survived and was able to fight back.

He instructed Superman to pick them up and fly back to the Manor, using his own cape to cover Spider's body to protect them from the harsh winds while Clark was flying, letting Conner follow him so he could call Tim and get Alfred to prepare the medbay.

He then turned to Jason and Stephanie with an unnerving calm face and a smile that the two took a step back in fear of what he was planning since Batman was never calm, especially if someone he cares about gets hurt. And he was smiling, which meant it was bad news and to not try to stop him.

He quickly walked towards the three heroes in front of him and put a hand on both Stephanie and Jason's shoulder and said in a weirdly cheerful voice "who wants to help Batman burn down the place and all the people who dared to hurt Spider?".

Not that Bruce was asking for their help, he just wanted it to be done faster so he could go home to Spider. In a normal case he would make it slow for whoever tried to hurt his child but this time he couldn't stop to enjoy the pain of the leader that was still in the room.

He gave both of his kids a set of bombs to put all around the bunker, telling them to not care about anyone and just place the bombs around while he took care of the leader.

He grabbed the makeshift throne from the pedestal it was put on and dragged it in the center of the room, not even caring about the noise the chair was making.

He then grabbed the passed out cultist and threw him on the throne, using some handcuffs to hold him there so he wouldn't escape if things got bloody.

Not that he wouldn't mind if things got bloody, he needed to relieve some stress after what happened to Spider and fortunately for him, that cultist was there and he needed to ask some questions.

He stared at the still passed out cultist and grabbed some smelling salts from his utility belt before snapping them under the cultist nose, a smirk appearing on his face when the cultist woke up and was scared when he saw him.

He wanted him to be scared, god just seeing how scared he was while trying to free himself from the cuffs on both arms and legs was incredibly satisfying, especially to what he wanted to do to him.

He roughly grabbed the cultist’s face to make him look directly at him, wanting all of his attention to ask his questions and slowly leaned down to look him right in the eyes.

“Now I am gonna ask you a few questions, if you tell me the truth I will let you walk out of this room alive but if you lie..”

He didn't finish the sentence and let the fear and the realization of what he meant wash over the cultist face, enjoying every second of it and he wanted him to be scared.

He let go of his face after a bit, a small smirk on his face when he saw the imprints of his fingers by how hard he squeezed his face.

“Why was Joker here? That clown never worked with cultists before”

He stayed silent as he watched the man hang his head low, starting to get even more angry when he didn't immediately answer.

He took a small step back in shock when he suddenly heard a laugh, very similar to the laugh Joker always had whenever he fought that clown.

His face was in shock when the cultist raised his head and showed the same maniac smile the clown always had, making him think that the ghost of Joker possessed the man, especially since the man just kept on laughing.

“Batman, the world's greatest detective, can't figure out something so simple! The trap wasn't for you, or even one of your many sidekicks!”

The man kept on laughing before suddenly stopping, his smile still on his face as he stared at Batman right in the eyes.

“It was for your little metahuman that started to clean the streets, everything here was for that annoying vigilante and leaving a message for you”

He laughed again when he saw the shock in Batman’s face, not even minding the handcuffs on both arms and legs as he moved them while laughing like a maniac.

“Everyone noticed your obsession for them, how all of your sidekicks kept on following them and getting rejected or thrown off a roof. You're not so secretive Batman and we just used them to send you a message”

Bruce just stared at the cultist laughing before grabbing a gun that Jason gave him and just shot the cultist in the face, using all the bullets inside the magazine. (The thing that holds bullets inside the gun if you don't know)

He stopped when the gun didn't shoot anymore and walked out the room, his eyes filled with fury at the thought that other rogues and villains in Gotham wanted to hurt Spider.

As he walked around the bunker to get to the exit, he killed anyone who tried to attack him or was in his way, not even caring about his no-kill rule or how the blood kept splattering on his suit.

He finally got out of the bunker, noticing both Jason and Stephanie near Conner’s ship and just gave them a nod before getting in his own jet, waiting until the bunker exploded before taking off.

He put the coordinates to the batcave and flew as fast as his jet could, wanting to get to the Batcave as fast as he could, his mind going over so many scenarios of Spider dying because of him whenever Alfred or anyone else in the cave didn't answer his calls that he was starting to get a panic attack at the thought of Spider dying because he was too late to save them.

When he finally arrived at the cave he basically jumped out the jet as it was landing and ran to the medbay, taking off his mask in the meantime as he didn't need it and having it on was like a reminder of the hatred that Spider has for that symbol.

As he ran, he ignored both of the Kryptonians still in the cave, not caring about their presence as he was more focused on making sure Spider was ok.

He arrived just in time because he saw Alfred walk out the medbay while taking off the surgical gloves and robes covered in blood and was throwing them away in a nearby bin.

He quickly walked up to the old man and started to ask a barrage of questions, ranging to what's the situation with Spider to how were they holding up and if they were alive and didn't have anything that would make them unable to move or do certain tasks.

He stopped talking when Alfred raised a hand to signal silence and listened as he explained:

"Their condition is stable - for now. Their wounds were.. severe to put it bluntly, Master Bruce. They sustained a multitude of near-fatal injuries from Joker. Fixing 2 broken bones in both arms, a fractured rib and stitching 3 stab wounds that, luckily, didn't pierce any of their organs is no small feat, consider it a miracle they are even alive."

He paused for a brief moment, almost as if to re-evaluate in his head.

"If my assessment is correct, they should be up and running in 5 days thanks to their increased healing rate, 8, maybe 9 if they were to refuse any medication."

Bruce nodded and turned to Dick and Duke who were near the room where Spider was resting at the moment.

He started to talk with Duke and Dick about the situation, sighing in relief when both Clark and Conner left because Tim managed to convince them that if they stayed it wouldn't really help since Spider was still unconscious and they could come visit after Spider wakes up.

When both Jason and Stephanie arrived he started to explain, to who didn't know, the situation with Spider before getting interrupted by Dick yelling out.

“I call dibs to share my room with them!”

His chest heaved in a quick rhythm as he finished his sentence, the words still just teetering on the tip of his tongue from how rushed his speech was, a big smirk on his face as everyone else glared at him.

Bruce sighed when he saw his kids were ready to fight to share a room with Spider, even though he also wanted to share his own room to make sure Spider was ok if they stayed next to him the whole time they were recovering.

Unfortunately he needed to be the voice of reason at the moment and said.

“Spider won’t be sharing a room with anyone, they’re weak right now and waking up with one of us in a new place will overwhelm them too much. They’ll get their own room.”

He smiled when everyone grumbled but nodded, glad that no one was gonna contest him on this decision.

But the moment of happiness didn't last long since after not even 2 minutes Damian raised his hand and yelled out.

“I wish to call dibs to be the first one to meet Spider when they wake in a room in the mansion”

After Damian yelled that out, everyone started to fight to be the second person to be with Spider when they wake up and to also choose which room Spider was gonna be the next to.

Alfred stayed silent for a bit as he listened intently, forced to hear his son discuss about Spider staying in the Manor when they already live there.

He tried to stay calm as he listened, keep his composure and remain civil. But hearing both Bruce and the others call Spider by their vigilante name and not their real name, even after seeing their face, made his blood boil - he knew that he couldn't wait anymore.

The things Spider had been subjected to and the injuries they suffered as a result, and how the Bats had reacted upon seeing their face- not understanding they were their sibling and child made him so unfathomably frustrated and enraged at the people he'd raised and cared for. Bruce was still discussing with Damian allowing Spider to sleep in the room next to his so he could show them all of his animals as Alfred silently walked over to him.

He decided to stop waiting for his kids to finally realize that Spider was, in fact, [Y/N].

His attempts thus far had proved unsuccessful, even after all the small things he put around the house for them to notice. He knew they were a lost cause if they didn't get the hint after all he did so he just walked up to Bruce who was busy trying to convince Damian to not let Titus or anyone else of his pets inside Spider’s room.

He waited patiently for Bruce to stop talking, since it is impolite to interrupt someone while they're talking, and called out his name.

"Master Bruce."

Which got him a simple hand wave, signaling that he was busy. The dismissive action made him annoyed that he wouldn't listen, but he tried once more.

"Mast-”

But he was interrupted by Bruce's sharp hand wave and a scoff yet again, the man obviously frustrated by Damian and Jason, since the two were now arguing about who Spider was going to be placed next to in terms of rooms.

He was fed up of being ignored and interrupted by everyone around him, raising his hands before clapping them together with an angry look on his face that garnered the attention of the entire room, the normally alive and bubbling room screeching to a halt in a wonderful blend of terror and surprise since Alfred was almost never mad. His glare danced around the room, shooting at each individual face before settling on Bruce's similarly surprised expression.

Then he began his exasperated speech in an eerily calm voice.

"Honestly, Master Bruce, I can't believe I raised you to be like this. I gave you all enough many chances to make it right, let you take your time figuring it out, but it seems like you cannot even put enough thought into noticing the blatant hints and information I have given you, I could have written it in bold red ink on my forehead and you would still turn a blind eye. I am so far beyond disappointed in all of you that there is no word in the English dialect that could possibly encapsulate just how much you have let me down."

He raised a hand to stop Dick and Damian from talking and trying to defend themselves, or shifting the blame onto someone else in the group.

"I have been patient and understanding with all of you and your behavior towards [Y/N], but after what happened today with Joker, I cannot sit idly by and continue to allow myself to pretend as if your disgraceful behavior is acceptable. You have run my tolerance and composure thin, so much so I cannot even fathom being quite so lenient anymore."

He stopped once again to level his glare at Bruce before shifting it briefly to Damian, knowing what the kid did to [Y/N] when they first arrived at the Manor.

"Spider's secret identity is [Y/N] Lawrence, also known as [Y/N] Wayne to me, and who is your child Master Bruce. Your child got bit by a mutated spider while working in a science lab, of which they had informed me, but your blatant ignorance is not even the worst part."

As he walked up to Bruce and put a finger on his chest, his footsteps seemed so loud and deafening that some of the individuals in the room had to refrain from covering their ears. Alfred prodded Bruce's chest accusingly as if he was trying to physically reach his heart, despite his doubts that the man could even feel it.

"The worst part is that you all ignored that poor child who lost their mother and came to us seeking help. They needed a family and stability after their supposed 'loved ones' shut the door in their face, and yet they couldn't even find that here. Your child could have lost their life today, they could have been taken to hospital only for us to be told they are unable to be saved, you could have been called to the morgue to confirm the body is theirs. And yet I don't think you would have been able to name their corpse."

He paused for a brief second to regain his composure ever so slightly, turning his attention to the others in the room.

"They learned gymnastics for you, Master Dick. Just so that you two could have something in common to talk about. However, you always ditched them for Master Tim or Master Damian whenever they begged you to do something with them."

He glanced at Jason and the others who were standing there, wanting to make sure his kids knew how bad they messed up. He also ignored how destroyed Dick and Bruce looked when they realized and remembered what they said and did to [Y/N].

"They spent days in the library reading your favorite books Master Jason and even learned about guns and the maintenance for one whenever you visited to be close to you. They were the one who left candies out for you and always made a new pot of coffee for you whenever you drank it all master Tim.”

He then glared at Damian, knowing what the young boy did to the poor vigilante, now resting in the med bay.

"After losing their mother, they were ecstatic about the idea of having a younger brother but you, Master Damian, thought they wanted to steal your place as Robin when they didn't even know your identity. But did you even stop to consider how horrifically you were treating a child that you were supposed to be protecting?"

Alfred paused his talking to lean down and look Damian in the eyes, making sure the boy's gaze wouldn't drift away.

"No you didn't. You instead abused that child and made them so frightened and anxious about living near you that I had to move them to the other side of the Manor and serve them food in their room so they wouldn't starve to death. Despite your treatment of them, you didn't seem to care about the consequences of your actions, did you Master Damian?"

He leaned back and stared at everyone, an exhausted yet somewhat pleased little smile appearing on his face when he saw the horrified moment-of-realization expressions on display as the weight of their treatment of [Y/N] came crashing down on their shoulders.

His gaze turned to Stephanie, Duke and Cassandra who were in the back of the group. Stephanie's voice was hoarse and trembling as her uneven sobbing filled the air, the realization as to why Spider always ignored and looked so annoyed when seeing her hitting her like a freight train.

He stayed silent as he watched everyone realize what they’ve done before Duke, who was a bit busy trying to calm down Stephanie who was still crying, asked out loud.

“Wait, then where is Spi- I mean, [Y/N]’s room?”

To which Alfred sighed but led everyone, except Stephanie and Cassandra, who stayed behind to help Stephanie calm down and also make sure Spider would be ok in the medbay.

As they all walked they noticed the way the corridor that led to [Y/N]’s room was very dark, like all the lightbulbs were taken off every chandelier to hide something.

When they finally arrived the first thing that was noticed was the door almost completely covered in stickers and little kids drawing, along with an empty plate on a small table next to the door.

Alfred stopped in front of the door before looking at everyone behind him, annoyed at their obvious hesitation at entering [Y/N]’s room but eventually grabbed the doorknob and twisted it, finally opening the room.

The room is small.

As soon as they set foot inside, only two of them because not all of them fit, the feeling given by the room is almost claustrophobic.

Being small by nature, the bed and objects make the room even more restricted, almost unbreathable. The mess does not fail to compensate for the effect; it is full of sheets of paper, fabric, and metal constructions everywhere.

It is very admirable that [Y/N] managed to make gold out of every corner of the room, making it livable despite their spider "work". All the constructions and planning have even come to be hung from the ceiling.

Duke stayed a little to the side, but still took into account all the details of the room; like all the posters that cover the room. An almost spontaneous smile appeared on his face as soon as he realized that they are all about him as Signal, the thought of [Y/N] being a fan of his work made him happy and also proud of himself.

As everyone looked around, Dick raised his arm to grab the only sheet of paper that was hanging only on one side, being held by a web that basically crumbled when Dick tugged the paper off of it. But no matter how much he tries to decipher what is written, he really doesn't understand anything even though he knows many languages, dead and still used thanks to Bruce’s training.

Each paper everyone grabbed had a different topic written on it before being thrown around the room and attached to the wall or ceiling via webs. Some of those papers had methods to make the costume more comfortable to move, others tested various ways to make using the web shooters in a way that they could still work if they were underwater or electrocuted, while others depicted different versions of the costume, to make it easier for a child to see it and not scare them if they ever had to see it.

One of the main things that the two men that managed to be inside the room noticed is that they basically didn't know exactly what they're looking at. It's definitely one of the few times they set foot in [Y/N's] room, and the realization that they've neglected them so badly into allowing them to pull off a whole "hero" act without ever being aware of it hits them in the face like a violent slap.

As they looked around they all saw various photos in addition to the posters and papers pinned to the wall; in these photos there are various experiences where [Y/N] was depicted, but nothing is familiar to all of them, increasing their guilt. There were photos of them at a science fair, two or three at various dance recitals, but they noticed that the arrangement of the photos seemed purposely placed; every photo where [Y/N] was depicted, their smile seemed to become duller, forced as they grew older. Their eyes began to lose more and more of that spark of joy, becoming emptier, sadder.

Dick ran his eyes over all the trophies on the shelves, the badges from every competition he never attended. He doesn't remember them; hell, he never even saw them bring any or badge home. For all the times [Y/N] has attended something, he has never been there. He should have thought twice before excluding them so much from his life. But there's no point in crying over spilled milk.

Above all the badges and trophies there are only two photos; certainly spacing each other by 2-3 years. In the first photo, when [Y/N] was younger, they seemed genuinely happy to hold the trophy, smiling as if they wanted to dare the sun to shine like they did. But the second photo was completely different, it's almost agony for Dick to look at that fake smile imprinted on their face, like all their excitement and joy were sucked out of them but they still needed to smile.

When Dick finally walked out the room to make way for Jason, his face was full of regret and guilt but the man ignored him to walk inside [Y/N]’s room.

He ignored the papers all around the room and stayed a few seconds to look at the photos before looking at the small bookshelf he noticed in the corner.

He slowly picked up one of the books sitting on the shelf and looked at the title, a bit surprised that it was Pride and Prejudice since every time he ever talks about it to someone, they never say that they liked it and just had to read it for school.

But he saw that the book was incredibly used and full of small sticky notes all inside it. Whenever he opened a page following a sticky note sticking out the book he always found one of the passages filled with sticky notes or notes written on the page with a pencil, making him smile at the thought of [Y/N] loving the book so much that they wrote what they thought on the pages.

As he flipped through the pages of all the books, he kept on noticing that on his favorite paragraphs there were small notes, like small instructions on how to add those paragraphs in a conversation with him, his heart breaking at the thought of [Y/N] working so hard to just incorporate something he liked so he could like them.

He could feel the excitement in all the notes by the way they wrote them, like you couldn't wait to see him and talk to him about it. But he knew that you two never talked much, hell he can't even remember one single conversation he had with [Y/N], making him feel even worse than before.

As Jason kept on reading all the books in the small bookshelf, Tim got to work on their laptop that he managed to find after searching all around the room.

As he opened the case that had [Y/N]’s laptop inside, he could see some old stickers that depicted him during his time as Red Robin, along with some cute cat stickers that covered almost the entirety of the laptop's outside. The sight made him smile, endeared by the thought of [Y/N] still liking him enough that they actually had some of his stickers on their laptop.

After opening it up, he powered it on and copied the password off of the little scribble next to the keypad. Going through the stuff inside the laptop, he noticed a folder full of photos of all of the bats, in either an embarrassing situation or funny moments when they were inside a dumpster after [Y/N] threw them inside of one. The thought made him laugh, especially whenever he found small notes written on that photo like what their crime was as to why they ended up in a dumpster. Though Duke, Cassandra and Bruce were missing from all the photos, as if they never existed to begin with.

As he kept going through [Y/N]’s laptop, he turned to place the heavy item onto the table since it was starting to get hot from being powered on. As he pushed some items out the way to make room, he accidentally pushed the laptop case off the desk, watching as a small usb bounced out and fell onto the floor, sparking Tim's curiosity. What could possibly be inside of that usb?

He grabbed it and plugged it in, initially waiting patiently for it to load. His irritation grew as he watched the loading animation loop over and over and over again, almost teasingly. He made a mental note to buy [Y/N] a better laptop. Perhaps even a whole pc setup so they could play together.

When the laptop finally gave him access to the contents of the usb, he found a multitude of videos that dated back years before [Y/N] arrived at the Manor.

He quickly went back to the newer video in the usb and clicked on it, curious as to what these videos had captured.

Tim curiously clicked the play button on the small screen, watching as it started playing. The scene displayed that of a small child, no older than five or six, who he quickly recognised as [Y/N]. They seemed to be in a living room of sorts, though he was just assuming that based on the blurry sofa and coffee table in the background.

He stared in surprise at the screen as they put the phone on something, probably a shelf or table, to keep it still. Tim laughed a little whenever it kept sliding over, the child's tiny yet menacing voice threatening to throw the phone as they stomped closer to it to prop it back up. This happened several times before they got the right angle. When they finally managed to get the phone to cooperate, he watched as they took a few excited steps backwards, tripping once or twice, before they smiled brightly at the camera.

"So! I just got my first role in a BIG dance recital!! I'm gonna be the uh- uhm I think it's the swan in, uh.. Swan Lake? I think that was what it's called, but anyways I don't care! I'll be a pretty swan!"

The child twirled around in sheer joy, showing off the sparkly white ballerina outfit, the pretty pearls shimmering in the little sunlight that poured in through a nearby window and the delicate lace shifting with the movement of the dress. The excited spinning halted as [Y/N] jumped a bit upon hearing a voice called their name. As he listened to the gentle lull of the voice, Tim realized it belonged to a woman, though it was unfamiliar to him.

He laughed when the small child ran to grab the phone, noticing that they didn't stop the recording. Instead, they just ran to the kitchen where he could see a woman standing over the counter cutting some vegetables with her back to the camera, dressed in some simple pajamas that were decorated with stars. She was shorter than average, with long brown hair that lay on her shoulder.

The young dancing prodigy shakily pointed the phone towards the woman, before asking loudly, "So, Miss Mom, are you excited about [Y/N]'s first dance recital?" Their enthusiasm radiated from their voice, bleeding into their movement as the camera just barely captured the woman's face turning and laughing softly at the young child's determined expression. Now that he had a good look at her face, Tim presumed this woman was [Y/N]'s mother based on their similar facial features.

"So serious! Though, this isn't your first dance recital my little star, you have done many before now." She exclaimed, her shoulders shaking as she smiled brightly at her child.

"Mooooom! This is my first REAL dance recital because I have a big role now!"

As the woman playfully shook her head with a stifled chuckle, smiling down at them, she turned her head to her right, encouraging [Y/N] to follow her line of sight.

"Boris! Tell her!!"

The camera panned over to a much bigger man hunched over a cooking pot, and as he turned his head to look at the woman with a knowing smile, Tim noticed a deep gash along his cheek. No, not a gash, a scar perhaps? This baffled Tim since he knew of the existence of [Y/N]'s mother, but had no recollection of a father in their life.

"You guyssss, I'm a freaking swan! Do you know how cool swans are?!"

Tim chuckled softly when he heard little [Y/N] say their version of a bad word, watching with a fond smile as the woman gasped dramatically with a shocked expression while the man turned his head away as if trying to hide his laughter.

"Little star! Where did you hear such a bad word?”

To this, little [Y/N] paused for a good few seconds before their tiny hand appeared in the frame and gestured to the man, throwing him under the bus in order to avoid punishment.

"Boris said it earlier when the TV wouldn't work."

Tim watched with a curious smile as the woman turned her hardened glare to the man, who gave her a nervous look. "Look it was an accident Amelie, I didn't realize [Y/N] was in the room-" The man had a slight accent, possibly Russian.

Before he could finish his sentence, the video got cut off, leaving Tim in a thoughtful silence. So [Y/N]'s mother was called Amelie? How interesting. Still, who exactly was that man?

He quickly went to the web browser on the laptop and searched for [Y/N]’s mother, which wasn't hard since the first thing that popped up were articles of her death and photos of the incident.

As he searched more articles about her, he noticed a few things: [Y/N] was never mentioned in any of the articles that talked about Amelie during her modeling career or about her having any types of relationships.

While he searched, he did find a few photos of Amelie with Boris, easily recognisable thanks to face scars, but as he could see by the many photos taken by paparazzi and fans, Boris was always by the side looking like a bodyguard.

Another quick research, about the man this time, and he found out that Boris was with Amelie when she was driving and died on his way to the hospital.

Tim quickly finished searching and turned off the laptop before grabbing it along the usb to watch more videos about [Y/N], especially since he saw a small folder full of other videos that mostly depicted [Y/N] as a teen, so he wanted to see them in his room and make copies of all the videos to show the others.

When Tim finally walked out the room along with Duke, Damian finally walked inside the small room, grimacing at the sight of the mess that [Y/N] lives in.

He promptly ignored Jason, who was still reading the books and had tears in his eyes, to focus on more important things, like searching through [Y/N]’s desk drawers and in the closet.

In the desk drawers he didn't find much, just a few folders containing useless information and school books that Damian ignored, angry that he couldn't find anything in the folders.

But when he searched the closet, grimacing at the poor quality of the clothes [Y/N] dared to wear that he even made a mental note to buy decent clothing for them when they woke up, he saw a few boxes at the back.

When he opened the first one he saw a small box full of vials, all labeled with ‘web fluid’, while next to the small box were a few web shooters, at least that's what the label on all of them said.

He grabbed them all and noticed a folder at the bottom of the box, which contained informations on how to create the web shooters thanks to the grappling hook parts and what to improve in the next model, so Damian assumed those web shooters in the box were old version that [Y/N] didn't use anymore.

He was impressed at how neat the information in the folder was, all in order and even highlighted when something was important or not, plus small notes added with pencil or post its.

When he finished reading the information, he put everything back in the box and set it aside to grab another box that was in the back of the closet, finding almost three, maybe four, albums of photos.

He slowly grabbed one, making sure to not damage anything in the album as he slowly looked through the pages, admiring the photos of a small [Y/N] along with their mother or an unknown man.

The other two albums contained photos of a woman, he assumed it was [Y/N]’s mother during modeling gigs and from clippings taken on magazines, alongside photos of her with a man, again the same man he kept seeing with [Y/N].

He closed the album in frustration and put it back in the box before grabbing the last box in the closet, wanting to see what this had so he could either use it to bond with [Y/N] or to understand why they hate him.

He understood that [Y/N] hated him, especially after Alfred pointed it out and made everyone see who Spider really was, but he also didn't understand why they hated him the most.

Yes, he did hurt them pretty badly that they had to find a safe place in this small room but he didn't understand the hate. He did the same with Drake but he didn't hate him.

As he opened the last box, which he immediately noted was full of dust which meant that [Y/N] didn't really open it much and just kept in the back of the closet to collect dust, he only saw a notebook.

He slowly picked it up, patting it down a few times to get rid of the dust before opening it to the first page, which read ‘Diary of [Y/N]’.

He closed it and debated if he should really open it or not before finally opening it, needing to know why they hated him and maybe the diary contained some information about it.

He started to read the first entries before skipping pages until he came to an entry where his name was mentioned.

20-03-XXXX

Dear Diary

Hi, sorry for not writing to you for a few months but many things happened that you wouldn't believe! Well you don't really believe in anything, you’re an object.

I moved out of my old house and went to live with my father, and yes I know it's weird since mom never mentioned him but I had to move in with him.

You might be wondering why, well mom and Boris died. The policeman who took me to my father explained everything, they both died in a car crash, he even let me grab everything I needed. I managed to grab all the albums I made with mom and Boris and mom’s favorite jewelry but not much.

I think auntie is gonna grab her clothes and other objects, I hope she won't sell them.

Well no more sadness! My father is Bruce Wayne! The billionaire man who made so many things possible in Gotham!

I am unsure if he knew that I existed, he looked so surprised when the policeman, I think his name was Gordon, explained what happened to mom and why I should stay with him.

But I got a big ass room! It's even bigger than my old one! Oh I have to ask Alfred, my father's butler and yes, he really has a butler, if I can buy some night stars to put on the ceiling and some new clothes.

I also have a younger brother! His name is Damian Wayne-Al Ghul! His surname sounds so cool compared to Lawrence!

Plus he’s arabic! Alfred told me he was raised in a ‘traditional manner’ but I don't know what that means, maybe that means that he’s a prince?

Oh my god, I have a prince as a brother! That would be so cool! I hope I can be friends with him and the others! I am so excited!

I do miss mom and Boris but I can't stay sad forever, the consultant in school said so. Plus I adore everyone! They're so cool and fashionable! I want to be like Dick or Tim when I grow up!

Oh yea I also have some many older brothers! Their names are: Richard but he prefers Dick, I don't understand why, Jason, Tim who is very cool like a Duke by how classy he is and Duke!

I also have two older sisters, Stephanie and Cadsandra, even though they're not ‘really’ part of the family like Alfred said but I consider them my sisters! They look so cool and Cassandra is so cool, like an assassin or a ninja!

Damian slowly closed the notebook, using a finger to not lose the page and just thought about what he just read.

He knew [Y/N] came to the Manor when they were 12, maybe 11, so the entry was maybe a few months after their mom died in an accident with a man, possibly the man he kept seeing in the photos, named Boris.

But what he read shocked him. They considered him cool and just wanted a friend. They didn't even know about the family's business and just thought everything was cool.

He quickly shook his head and reopened the notebook to read more, needing to know more about what they thought of him and when it changed.

15-04-XXXX

Dear Diary

You know Damian, the younger brother I told you about almost 5 months ago? About how he's so cool and everything and how I want to be friends with him?

Well he's not so cool anymore, he keeps hurting me and calling me names, saying things like “you won't replace me, I will be the ultimate Robin”.

I think I spent more time with Alfred stitching up cuts made by him than everyone else in this Manor. I hate Damian so much!

Why would I even want to be Robin?! I don't even know who Robin is now since they keep changing hair colors! Why would I be a Robin?! Batman is too scary!

I just wanted a younger brother, is that so bad to ask for? I understand that I came into their life without much notice but it's not my fault I came here!

It's that drunk driver's fault! He’s the one who killed my mom and Boris! I don't even want to be here! I would prefer to be with my mom, watching her get ready to do a photoshoot while Boris tells me stories about his time in the secret agencies he was in.

I hate this Manor, I hate Dick and his excuses for not hanging out with me, Bruce for telling me that I am just someone he’s forced to take care of and not his child and especially Damian!

I miss mom, I want to hug her one more time and dance with her.

Why did she go to the supermarket? She could've gone another day! It's all my fault, I should've never let her go with Boris, if I did she would still be here with me.

Damian stopped reading after that because the writing was almost illegible and in a few parts the ink was smeared because of small droplets of water, most likely tears.

He felt horrible, even more now that he read about himself in [Y/N]’s eyes and how quickly their feelings for him changed.

Even now, as he read past passages about himself, he could see how much they adored him even after he hurt them and it felt like knives were being stabbed on his body.

As he read, he started to feel something wet trailing down his face and when he went to touch his cheek, he didn't saw blood on his fingers like he thought

He quickly got up and put the diary on the bed before running out of the room, too distraught to stay there as the words written by [Y/N] about him kept circling around his head, taunting him and telling him that it was all his fault.

He’s the reason why [Y/N] hates everyone in the Manor, he’s the reason why they refused to be a part of the Batfam when they were Spider. He caused this. He made them move into a closet just because he was scared of losing the Robin mantle.

He ruined everything because of his selfish behavior towards a stupid mantle that you didn't even know belonged to him, and he knew it.

He collapsed in front of the medbay after finally getting back in the batcave, a bit glad when he saw that Stephanie and Cassandra weren't there to see him crying, and sobbed in front of the room, knowing that he didn't deserve to even enter the room after what he had done to [Y/N].

When Bruce saw Damian run out he tried to follow him but stopped, knowing the boy probably needed to be alone and would refuse his attention if he tried to help.

He nodded when Jason walked out the room and stood in front of the door, wanting to enter but still felt like he didn't deserve to even enter one of the only safe spaces that [Y/N] had in the Manor.

Bruce kept staring at the room, his thoughts running wild when he saw how small the room was compared to his or even Tim’s room.

“Alfred, what was this room before [Y/N] moved in it?”

The tiny space looked more fit for a young child, with walls that seemed to curve inwards the longer you stood in there, of which you could only stand if you were under 6ft.

Posters, pictures and multiple sheets of paper decorated any free space on the aged walls, the rest of the area covered by a wardrobe and a shelf that used to hold a few books that Jason took to his room.

A large bed sat pressed against the corner of the room, creating a small area of safety with the various pillows and blankets piled up on top of the thin mattress. Clothing was scattered all across the room, alongside all the documents and papers that were scattered around the room, though mostly on and underneath the bed, having likely been kicked under there by [Y/N] after they tripped on it.

The whole room emanated with coziness yet was so small that anyone would feel claustrophobic even just looking in the room.

And yet [Y/N] had called this room their home, settling in each night to the tiny bed after kicking their clothing somewhere random in the room and slowly slipping into the realm of sleep as they smiled fondly at the figures on their shelf.

"This used to be a storage room."

Alfred interrupted, capturing Bruce's attention and pulling him out of his trance-like state. "We used to put random items like cleaning products and laundry supplies in here, I remember there used to be a cabinet for the detergent over there." He said gently, smiling a little as he gestured to where the small bed now sat. "[Y/N] was delighted when they found this room, practically begging me to stay in here. They told me it seemed cozy, though I will admit I did find it a little odd they wanted such a small room." He told him, chuckling a little towards the end of his sentence.

"The way their little face lit up in excitement once we got the bed in here, watching them run around the room playing with their figures and hanging up posters. The room was small, sure, but it was more than enough for them.”

Bruce stayed silent after Alfred said that and looked around the room before noticing a small book next to the bed.

He slowly picked it up and sat on the bed, opening it to the first page and immediately reading ‘Diary of [Y/N]’ on it. He closed it and wondered if he should read it, mentally debating on whether or not he was allowed.

He decided on reading it when he remembered that he didn't know anything, absolutely nothing about his kid and what happened to them and how they were before they got bit by a spider.

Bruce knew it was wrong, it was another invasion of [Y/N]’s privacy but he didn't care. He wanted, no he needed to know about them.

20-05-XXXX (you can change the date with your birthday)

Dear Diary, this is my first entry in this book that is now called Diary.

Mom says that I have to practice writing and that I also can use it to express feelings or tell stories that I don't want to tell anyone in this book, so I shall be doing that.

As of today, my birthday, I am now 7 years old and I have celebrated another birthday with no father, just my mom and Boris.

If you are wondering, even though you can't since you are an object, I do not know who my father is and Boris is not my dad.

He told me that when I once called him dad, which made me sad since why do I have to hold this title for a person that has never showed up in my life when Boris is always there for me when I am either sad or feel like I can't do anything?

This is not fair. I will mom who my dad is and pretend to know why he doesn't want me. I don't even know why he doesn't want me! And I’m 7!

Well, I’ll tell you when I come back!

Ok so, mom told me that my father is someone that can't be traced so he’s either a ghost or dead. Which is the same thing.

Well I don't care, I’ll just tell Boris that he's my dad, even if he doesn't marry mom since she refuses to have other relationships and because Boris told me that he's attracted to other men and not women.

I don't envy him, boys suck. Especially my ghost dad! He abandoned mom!

As Bruce finished reading the first passage, he realized that their mother, Amelie, didn't try to paint him as someone evil just because he wasn't there.

He was also amazed at how serious the first entry was, it was almost a work document but he didn't think too much about it.

He felt horrible because he remembered all the time he talked bad about Amelie and how she couldn't just do one thing and keep [Y/N] away, not even caring if [Y/N] was in the room or around.

He knew Amelie, she was one of the models who never tried to flirt with him and spent most of her time talking with her bodyguard, acting like he didn't exist.

He also remembered that, after that night with her, she never called him until a week or two later to inform him that she was pregnant and how she just wanted child support if he didn't want to be in the child’s life.

He was incredibly surprised when she called him and even more surprised when she sent him a very well made child support agreement where she just wanted a decent amount of money every month and she will never bother him, she’ll just add him to the birth certificate if something happened to her.

He quickly shook his head to get rid of the thoughts about Amelie and skipped a few entries in the Diary before stopping at one where his name was mentioned in the first line.

31-09-XXXX

Bruce Wayne is my father.

I now know who my father is.. and yet I don't feel anything.

At first I wondered- why am I not happy? My father is a billionaire and a very famous man in Gotham, shouldn't I be excited and happy to have such a new lavish lifestyle with a loving, caring father?

Then I thought about it and came to a conclusion..

I don't like Bruce Wayne.

My mother and Boris died in a car crash. They were gone and I believed I had just become an orphaned child with no parents or guardians to care for me.

And then the police told me I had a father - Bruce Wayne. That man looked at me like I was some grotesque animal when the nice policeman told him about what happened and who I was.

I don't like Bruce.

He looks scary and totally different from what I saw on the TV whenever he was in a program with one of his many children.

He keeps saying things under his breath, like how my mom had one job and failed at it or how annoying I was because he didn't want me here since I was the reminder of my mom.

I want to hit him.

It's not her fault.

How dare he say things about mom! She wasn't perfect, I know that, but nobody is! Just because she didn't know how to cook meat and always had Boris cook anything that was fish or meat doesn't make his hatred for her okay! She was horrible at making drawings with me but she tried to, she put in effort to sit with me and draw anyway!

Why does he hate her so much?!

Why does he hate me?!

I don't even want to be here!

I want my mom back!

I want Boris back!

I miss my house, I miss my room!

I hate this.

I hate everything.

I hate him.

I hate Bruce Wayne.

Bruce stopped reading after that and just stared at the opened closet, trying to wrap his head around what he read.

He couldn't believe he did that. No he could believe that he said something like that, he was going through a rough patch with both kids, business and his vigilante job that when [Y/N] suddenly entered his life he didn't do anything to help them adjust or comfort them.

He also remembered how Amelie was a nice woman when he woke up in her bed, that explained what happened thoroughly for him, how they were both drunk and thankfully Boris took them to her house, and even gave him her business card after she took his so she could contact him if she was ended up pregnant because she knew she wasn't on a safe day and he didn't use a condom.

He actually admired how gentle she was and how, when she contacted him about her being pregnant and how she wondered if he wanted to be in his child’s life, accepted his refusal and the offer of child support, not even caring about how much money he was gonna give her every month.

So he felt even more horrible and a downright scumbag when he realized that he insulted one of the many women he respected in front of her child and how he never apologized or tried to make amends.

Not even the realization about his actions would excuse them, especially because he said those words to a child, a traumatized child who just lost everything and had to be thrown into a house where no one wanted them.

He slowly flipped through the pages, stopping when he found one of the last entries, which were dated almost 2, maybe 3 years ago.

08-07-XXXX

Dear Diary

As stated before, I moved into Wayne Manor and now I am a Wayne. I refuse to take his surname though, I will never give up my mother's last name.

This will probably be one of my last entries since I will switch to video diaries, mostly to just watch myself and actually explain while talking.

I have been in this hell that I have to call house for almost 3 years and I hate it. I know that I say it many times but it's true.

I hate Dick and how he acts like he's the golden child, so righteous and kind to Tim and Damian but when I ask to do anything with him, he just tells me that he's busy.

Even though I know that those are excuses so he wouldn't have to hang out with me.

I hate Jason and how he complains that Bruce doesn't love him, but I know that he does. That man loves Jason even if he kills people as Red Hood but doesn't do anything about it.

I hate Tim. I don't know much about him but I hate him so much because he's so perfect, already a CEO and so good at everything that even if I manage to do something good, I will always be compared to him by Bruce.

I hate Stephanie, Cassandra and Duke. They never hang out with me, telling me that they're busy when I see them play around together or with others.

What did I even do to them?!

I hate Damian and how he feels superior just because he's an Al Ghul and Robin. I hate it. He has everything, Bruce’s and everyone else's love and attention and yet, he still tormented me and scarred me just because I existed.

I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THAT BRUCE WAS BATMAN WHEN I FIRST CAME TO THE MANOR.

I hate Bruce Wayne. I hate his perfect TV smile and persona, I hate how he acts like he loves all of his children and yet he has never spent any time with me ever since I came to his Manor years ago.

I hate how he told Dick about how annoying my voice was after I visited to ask him to sign something for school. How he described my voice as nails on a chalkboard for his ears and how he wished he never had to hear it again.

But if he wants to, then I shall never talk again. Maybe this will make him happy.

Bruce slowly looked up when he finished reading that entry, the diary slowly slipping out of his hands and falling onto the floor with a soft thud.

He couldn't believe that he said something so horrible about a kid, someone he should be protecting, and made them, made his own child, hate their own voice.

He slowly put his hands on his head and just cried silently, the realization that he was the reason as to why [Y/N] hated the Manor and their own blood, because he was a horrible father to a traumatized child that just wanted a family after losing their own so early.

The manor was quiet, eerily so. Usually it was bursting with life, sound practically reverberated off the walls. But today it was almost silent. Amidst this silence, a child finally wakes up from their slumber in a room in the Manor.

You slowly opened your eyes, hissing when the blinding lights coming from the window immediately hit your face like a rocket, making you try to move your arm to cover your face.

You slowly looked down to your arm when you noticed the difficulty at moving it and found it in a cast that almost enveloped all your right arm.

You looked at the other arm and sighed in relief when you saw that it was just bandaged up and not in a cast.

You did notice that you had an IV in your hand, making you sit up despite the pain you felt all over your body and managed to pull it out with the casted arm.

After you pulled out the IV, you noticed that you were in a far bigger room compared to the small one you had before. You looked at the shelves and noticed that your worn out books were replaced with new ones while the photos and posters were in the same places but with more space.

As you looked around, you could see that the furniture was the same, confirmed by the scratches on the closet, which was the closest to you, that you accidentally did while trying the first prototype of the web shooter in the room which resulted in you throwing the flaming machinery at the closet before destroying it as you tried to put out the fire before Alfred noticed.

You laughed a little at the memory of your panicking before almost doubling over in a fit of cough, your throat burning when you finally calmed down.

You slowly moved the blankets off of you after you calmed down enough to think rationally, understanding that you weren't in your room anymore but still in the Manor thanks to the walls and the colors in the room, which were totally different from the ones you had in your own room.

You ignored how both of your legs were bandaged up and slowly got off the bed, using the IV stand to keep yourself standing as you wobbled to the desk, noticing almost all the papers you had around your room were now in neat piles, making you extremely angry since you immediately knew that Bruce and his kids entered your room, probably because of Alfred interference.

You pulled away from the desk, still holding onto the IV stand and coughed a little, noticing that the shirt you were wearing was starting to get blood on it.

You slowly raised the shirt and noticed that the bandages on your chest and sides were full of blood, but you ignored it and went for the door, needing to get out of here since you knew that if you were in a different room it meant that they all knew you were Spider.

When you finally made it to the door, your vision was already starting to get blurry from all the blood you were losing. You finally opened it but fainted before you even managed to take a step out, the last thing you saw was the silhouette of a man running up to you, his face blurry and his voice muffled.

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pynkfairyheart · 4 months

Text

pairings: peircer eren x black reader

warnings: smut 18+, kinda pervy eren

Good girl

“Hello?” Your soft voice rang over the chimes as you entered the tattoo parlor.

The shop was quiet, seemingly empty besides the softening chimes of the door and surprised cursing down the long hall.

“Shit- yeah. Just give me a minute. My apologies” The culprit of the cursing called.

In the meantime, you took a look around the lobby. The reviews didn't do the place justice. The largest wall contained a bright colorful mural, contrasting beautifully with the dark floors and connected black walls.

While admiring the piece of artwork, heavy thudding from the long hallway turned your attention to the most gorgeous man you had ever seen.

You never believed in love at first sight, up until now. You hadn't even known the man's name yet, but you craved him. The reviews warned you the entire staff was attractive but they clearly left out that this man was a god.

His long hair was pulled into a low bun, strands falling in his face, the color contrasting against his pale skin. He was tall, with a full sleeve on one of his muscular arms, and his green eyes had you drowning immediately. He couldn't be Onyankopon, they said he was a brother. Maybe Connie or, Levi-

“Hi, I'm Eren” He introduced himself after swallowing the large knot in his throat.

While in your own trance, you failed to notice how he froze the moment he saw you. The bright light you stood under showcased the sparkles of your pretty brown skin.

Your legs were on display as a result of the simmering heat outside, thick thighs causing them to roll up slightly. The fitted t-shirt you wore allowed the hardened buds of your nipples to peek through, despite the hot weather.

Eren never considered himself a pervert but the way his mind instantly thought about sucking on them till you begged him to fuck you had him thinking otherwise.

“Hi, I'm [☆]. Is this a bad time?” Oh, he could have come on the spot, your voice sounded even better without the numerous walls separating you and god your perfume had him wanting to devour you on the reception desk.

“No, no I just don't know how much I can do for you, the AC is out in all the rooms but mine and I don't even know how long that's gonna last so if you're looking for an hour long tat session you'll have to come back” He crossed his arms, muscles contracting against the white tee.

“Oh no, I'm just hoping to get a few piercings but I can definitely come back another time”

“No, I can do a couple of piercings. What were you thinking?” He grabbed the paperwork from under the counter, praying one of them would be your chest.

“Uh well, I want the other side of my nose, belly button, venus dimples, and my nipples but I understand if you can't do all of that or the last one I'll just come back”

“No, no I can do it,” He said too quickly, clearing his throat awkwardly before handing you the paperwork.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

“Good girl. You're doing such a good job for me, pretty. Just hold on for one second, lovey”

He was currently doing your last dimple piercing. The pain was unimaginable at first but as soon as the praises left his mouth all was forgotten besides the growing stickiness that rested between your thighs.

He praised you after every piercing a variation of “Good girl” “You're doing such a good job for me” “That's it, baby. You did so good” flowed from his pink lips. You could never decide which throbbing to focus on, the one from your new piercing or the throbbing of your clit.

With three new holes in your body and damp panties, it was now time for the piercing both of you were dreading yet excited for.

“Do I just take my shirt off here?”

“Wherever you're comfortable, baby. You can go in the bathroom or stay in here and I'll give you some privacy” He felt like a teenage boy again. His dick twitching at the thought of seeing you exposed.

“No, it's okay you can stay in here I don't mind”

“Oh. Okay,” He perked up. Giving you some privacy he turned his back, pretending to be busy when in reality he was trying to think of anything but you getting undressed behind him. Despite his concentration, all he could focus on was the sound of your necklaces and bracelets clanking at the movements you made.

He knew your nipples were still hard, especially since he took advantage of the working AC and he wondered what your moans would sound like if he flicked his tounge repeatedly over the bud, or if he pinched them in front of the mirror while you begged him to fuck you as you pressed your ass against his hard-

“I'm ready” Your soft voice broke him from his thoughts.

If his self control was any less he'd have gotten on his knees to worship you. There you were. Looking everywhere but him, tits exposed. If it weren’t for the fact other men besides him would see, he'd tattoo this image of you on his bare forearm.

“Are you ready?” He suppressed a groan.

“Mhm”

“Okay stand up for me” He led you to the mirror where he prepped each bud. During the process, you felt as if you could crawl into yourself. The most beautiful man you'd ever laid eyes on had his hands on your breast. Despite the occasion being nonsexual, you were convinced your arousal would start running down your thigh at any second.

“Is this okay?” He stood behind you.

You gave a simple hum of approval, thoughts gone as he explained how the process would go. You convinced yourself you could handle it, that it would all be over soon.

That was until he rolled the bud in between his fingers, the whimper you'd been holding escaping you.

‘fuck’ ‘fuck’

“Shit, I'm so sorry I- I didn't mean to do that, please understand I had no malicious intentions I just” He stumbled over his words.

He was just explaining the step by step process of the piercing. He wasn't thinking, just craving. He wouldn't have realized his actions if it weren't for the sound you let out. The sound he knew he'd replay in his head the moment you left the shop, stroking his cock as he imagined it were you down on your knees in front of him.

“It's okay” You reassured him. Your big eyes staring up into his through the mirror.

“I didn't…I don't mind”

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Before you knew it you were bouncing on his cock. His moans muffled as his mouth engulfed your breast. Tongue slightly grazing your nipple with the flickers of his tongue before sucking harshly.

He was stretching you out so good, leaky red tip repeatedly hitting your cervix as his frenum piercing brushed against your walls. The added pleasure contributing to the pace of your bounces as you chased your high.

“E-eren please” You whined, attempting to push his head away from the assault on your breast. His hair was everywhere, the ponytail holder long gone the moment your hands entangled in his hair. Your buds were so sensitive, every suck and swipe of his tongue had you squeezing around him, every clench releasing your cream that pooled at the base of his cock.

“Fuck” He groaned, reluctantly giving your boobs a break. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, groping the brown skin before placing a hard slap on your cheek.

“Talk to me, pretty. You like this? Like bouncing on daddy's cock hmm?” His arms wrapped around you tightly as he fucked up into you.

“Oh my- fuck” You gave him control. Your head resting on his shoulder as you let out pornographic moans into his ear.

“Answer me, mama” Another slap landed on your ass.

Before you had time to register the mix of pain and pleasure on your flesh, the gentle pressure of his finger rubbing circles on your puckering hole had you seeing stars.

“Fuck y-yes. I love it so much, daddy. Please don't stop” You whined. Tears of pleasure wetting the crook of his neck.

By no means was Eren a fast finisher but boy was he trying his best to hold on, you're pussy was just squeezing him so tight, the added tension on his scalp as you tugged on it every time he hit the spongy spot along your walls had his nails digging crescents into your skin.

“I'm so close, daddy, please”

“Let go mama” He pressed hot kisses along your neck and shoulder.

In that moment you came, your pussy tightening around the large girth of his cock. Clear liquid squirting from you in streams as he continued his thrust. Your arousal splashing and dripping onto the chair.

With sweat dripping down his forehead, and stray hairs sticking to him, his thrust became sloppy and his breathing became heavier.

“S-shit” He whimpered, head thrown back as he came harder than ever. Repeatedly pushing his load back into your pussy.

“Lemme take you on a date. Please” He panted once you both came down, his hands roaming your body as he looked down at you, green irises peeking out behind his blown pupils.

“Okay, yea- oh” A broken moan escaped you as he moved your hips up and down his length once again.

“Eren” You whined

“Don't tell me you're wiped out after one round, pretty girl. I know you have more in you, mama. Be a good girl for daddy”

for my eren girlies. this is probably the fastest I've ever wrote bc i just needed peircer eren. oh also how do yall feel about pegging bc i feel peircer eren can be a bit subby sometimes ttm. mwah <3

pt.2 wit the pegging ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶꒱ྀི১

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clarionglass · 4 months

Text

here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine?

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait!

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him.

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs.

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look.

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace.

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign.

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm.

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity.

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor.

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief.

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling.

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!”

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him.

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage.

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps.

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break.

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope.

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still.

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall.

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed.

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw.

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

#game master #sam reich!master #doctor who #dw #dropout #game changer #you know what let's chuck some character tags in here #15th doctor #the master #sam reich #brennan lee mulligan #grant o'brien #kaylin mahoney #clari speaks #clari writes #ah darlings i'm putting my chat down here rather than in the post body for once #so i've thought of this whole saga as 'part three' but i will be a) titling them all and b) just keeping on numbering the parts sequentiall #rather than 'part three part one' etc #otherwise we're getting into homestuck act titling territory and that is ground i do not wish to tread #also fuck i hope i've got the time zones right #i'm planning to post this when an episode of game changer would ordinarily be released. to plug the gap. to tide us over.#(the finale trailer is so delightfully unhinged and i cannot wait til next week)#anyway gang this one was wild #the slight but significant genre shift from 'game changer with doctor who elements' to 'doctor who with game changer elements'#it was fun to write! and hopefully fun to read :)#also i MUST say that eugene northernfireart has a baller comic in the works that this entire thing is based on #this is thousands of words of setup and continuation because the sketch idea was so good it possessed me #and we decided that it had to be a proper dw episode #(hey rtd hire me pls)#anyway eugene is on hiatus bc of life so in the meantime go give him love and be Fuckin Hyped for the comic when it appears bc i know i am

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too-much-tma-stuff · 8 months

Text

This idea sort of burst out of me like Alien so it's unedited. There will probably be more.

In short, Cas picks up on the fact that Danny is pregnant at a Wayne Gala and have the right idea but the wrong context.

Masterpost

------

Danny was barely holding it together and really he had been for a long time. It had sort of been fun and games at first when he became a hero. Sure his accident had hurt like hell but he'd sort of repressed that and for real? Lunch Lady? Box Ghost? Even Skulker was sort of a joke and he hasn't actually felt threatened. Sneaking around behind his parents backs and sneaking out with his friends had been fun. It had all felt like a game at first, and then somewhere in there things had gotten very real.

He'd known he couldn't count on his family to protect him but they couldn't even see Vlad was a threat. And he felt like he had lost the last of his innocence when he saw the clone Vlad had made of him melt. He hasn't been in time, he had panicked and he had only managed to save a couple by taking them into his own body to shield their still forming cores. Ellie and... should Danny name the other one or would he name himself when he was ready?

He kept touching his stomach over where he could feel the little balls of his mirror children hovering just below his own core. He was so tired all the time as they relied on his energy, he was eating more then ever and he knew his family was worried. He didn't think he could hide this and he couldn't predict when they would emerge. What if they did in front of his parents? They definitely wouldn't react well. And Vlad kept trying to use this against Danny. Promising to look after him and the babies if he was really insisting on carrying them, as if Danny could rip those tiny 'lives' out of himself now.

And no matter how many times he tried to tell his parents that Vlad was bad news, that he creeped Danny out and made him feel unsafe they wouldn't listen! Dad didn't even hear him and mom made sympathetic noises and then told him to bear with it for Jack's sake because he didn't have many friends.

So of course when Vlad had asked if 'Daniel' could accompany him to a gala in Gotham his father had agreed! Even his mother had agreed when Vlad promised it would be educational and safe! And here Danny was, hanging on by a fucking thread in a suit that felt uncomfortably tight around his middle, having just escaped being paraded around as Vlad heir like a particularly expensive watch. He was behind the snack table having piled a plate as high as he could and scarfing it down before Vlad could find him again and scold him for being rude. He hadn't noticed yet that a family of dark haired socialites kept giving him worried looks. A young woman with dark eyes signing frantically to a man with blue eyes and a dimpled frown.

It was the man who slid up carefully next to Danny trying not to startle since he seemed to have genuine food aggression.

"Yeesh kid you seem like you're starving! All those fancy Hors d'oeuvres are fun but not very cooling and I feel like I'd be a poor host if I didn't offer you something more filling! If you'll come me to the kitchen I'm sure our family butler would be happy to whip something up for you?" The man said with an inviting some that did nothing to sooth the way Danny's hackles raised instinctively.

He was about to say no on reflex when he spotted Vlad heading towards them with an expression like a thunder cloud. Danny's back went ridged and the other man followed his gaze with a frown. "You know what ya that sounds great let's go now!" Danny said dropping his half full plate on a nearby tray and dragged the stranger away with him as Vlad shouted after him.

"Daniel come back this instant! Unhand mister Wayne! Daniel this is unacceptable!"

'Mr. Wayne' took over leading them and spirited Danny through a back door as a bubbly blonde intercepted Vlad and a small woman slid in behind them like a shadow.

"So, Danial I assume?" The man asked, amusement crinkling around his eyes as Danny grimaced.

"Mr. Wayne I assume?" Danny returned, unaware of the way one arm was protectively wrapped around his stomach, but the girl noticed. It was Dicks turn to grimace.

"Okay ya, I go by Dick. What about you?"

"Danny," he said not reacting to the name, he'd heard far stranger. "And what about you?" He asked Cas, startling Dick a little because she was doing her 'shadow thing' and not many people would have noticed her.

"That's Cas, she has a hard time talking sometimes," Dick explained as Cas materialized and gave Danny a reassuring smile and wave.

The teen harrumphed but he did follow them down to the kitchen where Alfred was drinking a cup of tea, staying well clear of the foolishness upstairs. "Ah, hello young masters," Alfred he said, glancing between the three with a raised brow. Though the two who knew him could see the way his expression softened when Danny shrunk in on himself. "What can I do for you?"

"Hey Alfred do we have any leftovers from dinner or something filling we can whip up fast? Danny here is too hungry for just the fancy font for upstairs." Dick asked cheerfully.

Alfred raised his eyebrows again and looked at Cas who was standing behind Danny. Glancing at Danny to make sure he wasn't looking she grimaced then touched her stomach and mimed holding an infant.

Alfred's expression turned stormy for just a moment then smoothed. "Of course we do, Why don't you make our guest comfortable and I'll see what I can do. Do you have any allergies young man?" Alfred asked and Danny shook his head mutely.

"You're the best Alfie!" Dick said, hovering a hand over Danny's shoulder rather then actually touching him as he leas him towards the comfortable breakfast nook.

The boy seemed tight lipped and gaunt, his eyes flicking around them as if he expected a threat to pop up at any time. Dick slipped into the booth across from him. Trying to think of the best way to ask this kid how... why, and who hurt him.

Cas has stayed in the kitchen, but not for long. She came to them with a tray of mugs moments later and slipped into the booth next to Danny. Gently she took his hands and pressed the warm mug unto them. He blinked and focused of it, as if on autopilot he lifted it to his lips, Cas keeping a hand on his elbow to steady him as he drank.

The warm comforting drink, and hand on his arm, presence by his side as Cas slid imperceptibly closet and closer till she was pressed against Danny's shoulder, felt like they were taking him apart from the inside. Thawing out the cold numbness he shielded himself behind. Half way through his tea he glanced up, at the worried blue eyes so like Jazz, so worried and warm.

He put down the mug suddenly as a sob shook his body. Cas wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, cooing comforting wordless little sounds as she let him bury his face into her chest and just sob heaving, exhausting outbursts of repressed emotion.

"Are the babies okay?" She asked and he froze, his breath catching in his throat. She clicked her tongue and rocked him gently. "Okay, okay, not in trouble," she promised.

"They- I don't know, they were so weak, I’m trying, but I don't know if I can keep them alive." Danny sobbed lifting his hands to cover his face.

"The stress can't be helping," Dick pointed out, climbing across the table like it was nothing to sit next to them and rub Danny's back. Danny gave a little hiccupping hysterical laugh. "Do you have support, or like, do you know your options?" He asked awkwardly.

"I'm not getting rid of my babies! I don't care if the man who made them is an obsessive creep who drugged me! I love them they're MINE!" The feral protectiveness seemed to startle Dick even as Cas continued to make soothing sounds.

"Your choice, only yours," she promised. "Have help?"

Danny sniffled and shook his head. "Safe?" Another shake of the head.

"The man who... did this?" Dick asked as delicately as he could. Another hysterical laugh.

"I've tried! I've tried to tell my parents he's a creep, he's dangerous but they don't listen! My dad thinks he hung the fucking stars, mom says he's harmless. They don't believe me! I-I can't tell them about the babies. They'd make me get rid of them or worse! I can't." Danny sobbed and Cas soothed.

"Okay, okay, you don't have to." She promised. "You stay with us, you and babies safe, never have to see him again."

"Ya right. Wait, your serious? What" Danny asked, pulling back and looking at her with wide bloodshot eyes.

"She's very serious young master," Alfred said as he approached making Danny jump. there was a hard set to the old man's jaw and steal in his eyes that left no room for questions as he set a plate of eggs, sausage, and fruit in front of Danny. "Master Bruce has a foster license and is a mandatory reporter. I'm sure once he hears even a fraction of this he will insist you stay. I will prepare a room for you. Am I to assume the man who's shouting demanding your return upstairs is the source of this distress?"

Danny swallowed and nodded, Alfred nodded back and paused to rest a gloved hand gently on Danny's hair before walking away briskly.

"Eat," Cas said, nudging him gently to let go of her. "As much as you want. Still hungry? We raid Tim's secret cereal stash."

"Gasp! You know where it is? You've been holding out on me?!" Dick demanded with exaggerated betrayal and as the two started to banter Danny ate. He was glad of the distraction, of not having the attention on him as he devoured the healthy, and nutritious meal the butler had made for him. It had been a while since he'd had a good home cooked meal, it made his core feel warm and he could feel the two little echoes as his hummed.

The babies were happy too, he didn't believe these people could keep him safe from Vlad really, but this was nice. Maybe he would let them try, get a few more good meals, a respite, and maybe... maybe his parents would finally notice that something was wrong and actually stand up for him?

That was probably wishful thinking but he could hope right? there was no harm in that.

Part 2

#fanfiction #danny phantom #dc x dp #angst #misunderstanding #the bats think Danny is normal pregnant not incubating cores #Vlad is a creep #stalker Vlad #vlad plasmius #dick grayson #cassandra cain #feedback and comments welcome #for some reason it won't let me add a title #I wouldn't really know what to call it anyway

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rillian4e · 1 year

Text

Bad girls get punished or?

ft& Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Scaramouche, Jing Yuan, IL Dan Heng

cw: nsfw, fem!reader, rough sex, pet names, praise kink, foul language, spanking, chocking, thigh riding, marking, breeding, degradation, teasing etc...

summary: you've been feeling neglected, and acting bratty towards your boyfriend which lead to him putting you in your place.

Neuvillette: riding, spanking, pet names

Neuvillette was fed up with your behaviour, he was trying to work, but you just had to sit and grind onto his lap, he had already told you to stay quiet while he finished some paperwork, and he would reward you but you didn't have any patience for that, instead giving into your desires which resulted in punishment.

Having you bent over his desk as he spanked your cute little butt, "Ow..! That hurts... Be more gentle!" you whined, feeling his big hand slap at your skin once again, there would be red marks for days surely, despite how it felt painful—you secretly enjoyed it, feeling more aroused than ever to have him punish you like this. Neuvillette could tell you were enjoying it, making him sigh, he was too forgiving at times like these, placing you to then ride his lap, wiping your tears away, "You're such a bad girl, cherié, I won't punish you any more, instead you'll have to ride me."

He muttered, looking at you before placing a gentle kiss on your cheek, "If you end up not needing my help, then I'll reward you by fucking you nice and full, what do you think, hm?"

You smiled delighted when you heard his words, he really was too forgiving towards you, but you knew that he would be the opposite when you get your reward, always making sure you're satisfied.

Wriothesley: cockwarming, rough sex, manhandling

While you were needy and horny, your lover was busy, having to handle some affair within the Fortress of Meropide. It didn't help that you wanted him so badly, you went ahead and visited him, only to find him buried with paperwork as he sipped his favorite tea. Wriothesley was used to your neediness, often indulging your desired as he missed the warmth of your cunt enveloping him as much as you too did, but he could just abandon all of his work, it was the busiest around this time period for the duke.

Even as you wore your pretty little skirt and top, he didn't give in to your pleas instead having you cockwarm him, "Mm...stay still, love. Just a few more hours, and I'll give you what you want."

you felt better when you heard his words but "a few more hours", was he crazy?! No way would you be able to wait that long, not when his cock was buried so deep inside your aching core—it was so hard to resist the temptation of rolling your hips and fucking yourself on his shaft. you tried your best to stay good, nuzzling his neck, but when you felt his hand rub your thigh up and down... you couldn't do it. instead lifting yourself up and then sinking onto his cock, the sensation making you moan, albeit it was a quick relief as Wriothesley then pulled you off his lap, clearly that was his last straw.

"You're not getting out of this, sweetheart. You know, I adore when you're being a brat, but it's time to punish you a little, turn around." ah...you fucked up.

you gulped before doing as told, without waiting any longer, Wriothesley pushed his cock inside your cunt, immediately picking up a relentless pace without giving you a moment to catch your breath.

Wriothesley made sure to fuck his seed deep into you, hopefully that would satiate you for some time, you had to leave his office with his cum dripping out of you cunt, you were praying that it wouldn't drip down your legs.

Alhaitham: soft Alhaitham, praise, pet names, comfort

The scribe was not pleased with your behaviour, he was trying to read his book in peace when you came, all flustered and begging Alhaitham to fuck you in the House of Daena, where plenty of other scholars are, yeah, he of course refused, it was a risk, and he wanted to read his book. you couldn't get yourself off, it's been far too long since you last had any Intimacy with Alhaitham due to how busy he'd gotten, and in his little free time, he always reads books which doesn't help that he isn't spending time with you. You were rambling on and on, but no use, Alhaitham wasn't budging.

You didn't understand why he was being eo mean, so cold, he didn't didn't wanna give you a kiss, you didn't even realize that you were crying when Alhaitham pulled you into a hug, a large hand patting your back in comforting circles, "Hush, don't cry, princess... I was being too harsh on you, it's just that I've been overwhelmed and stressed, but that's not an excuse, c'mere." Quickly he placed you to straddle his lap, stroking your cheek tenderly, "I'm very sorry, my love, please forgive me."

He resorted on making it up to you, bringing you home, and making the whole night about you two, his fat cock stretching your cunt as he peppered kisses all over your face and neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, a contrast to the way he was slamming desperately into your hole, he only then realized how much he had missed you.

"Such a good girl... My sweet, sweet girl, taking me so well, I'm proud of you..." He'd whisper into your ear, his hand rubbing tight circles on your clit, his sweet words only fueling your desires to be fucked dumb by him which he fulfilled.

Scaramouche: manhandling, foul language, use of pet names

Punishment is his favorite when you're being a brat, this was no exception. Who did you think you were, trying to make him jealous by flirting with other men? The moment you were home, Scaramouche had you in mating press—his length filling your womb to the brim, he knew you wanted this to happen, your gummy walls only clenching more around him at his harsh and degrading words.

"Did you think you successed, hm? Trying to make me jealous by giving other men your attention? Look at you, acting like a bitch in heat." he muttered, one of his hands squeezing your throat, putting firm pressure, enough for it to feel uncomfortable.

His rough pace only continuing till you cannot take it anymore, your legs trembling from the overwhelming pleasure and stimulation, Scaramouche feels no mercy for you, focusing on his pleasure and teaching you a lesson. "Did you seriously think anyone other than me could fuck you this good?" He asked, looking down at you, his eyes betraying no emotion, only gazing at you as if you're some pathetic worm.

"Answer me, slut." his grip on your throat tightened, you cried out, shaking your head, "N-No...only you! Only you...can f-fuck me this good..!" was the best you could speak out, hoping it was enough for him to forgive you.

Jing Yuan: thigh riding, praise, pet names

He was busy with paperwork, being a general wasn't easy, it meant that he would be busy most of the time which you understood when you became his lover, but that didn't mean you weren't desperate for his affection. Jing Yuan would only tell you to wait and be patient, pressing kisses on your head, it didn't help that you were horny for him. He didn't like the way you were trying to dry hump him, wanting to feel that much needed friction against your dripping core. "What did I tell you, sweetheart? To wait, did I not?"

He sighed as you tried your best to give him puppy eyes to make him cave in, when he saw you disobey his words once again, he gripped your waist,

"Mm...you're being a very needy thing today, I won't be giving in today, though."

he exclaimed, giving you a kiss on the lips before he had you rub yourself on his thigh, having to get yourself off alone, it frustrated you but it was better than nothing. You did like riding his thigh, but you wished he would just fuck you or at least let you ride his cock—you so badly needed his thick length inside your hole, the more you rubbed your clothed cunt against his thigh, the more you wished he'd help you, a small wet patch was already growing on your underwear.

Jing Yuan wrapped his hand around your waist, supporting you while his other scribbled on his paperwork. You were getting desperate to cum, moans escaping you as you rode his thigh with the desire to reach your climax.

"Close, my love? You're ruining my pants, such a messy girl." a low chuckle escaped his lips, taking his eyes off his paperwork to give you a little of his attention. His hands gripped your thighs as he lifted you up and down hard on his thigh.

Even though he only let you ride his thigh, it would suffice as long as he was the one helping you, it was a whole another feeling when he helped you.

IL Dan Heng: vaginal sex, edging, teasing, mean Dan Heng

You have been trying to tease your lover for the past few hours, playing with his sensitive horns which you knew was the easiest way to get his attention. Rubbing the ridges with gentle motions before pressing kisses on both of his horns, Dan Heng loved when you gave attention to his horns, but he was trying to read his book, not have you make him aroused. His attempts at making you stop failed, though. After having enough of you being a brat, his tail wrapped around your waist, eliciting a reaction out of you—was he finally gonna give in?

"You're too greedy, love. I was busy, and I would have made time for you, but not if you keep acting like a brat."

You thought he would give in, he always did after all, and he did. His cock was inside you, hitting all the right spots, it had you seeing stars. Dan Heng really is too kind is what you thought before he told you that you can't cum.

"I'm not giving you permission to cum, princess. That's your punishment, besides isn't this what you wanted, for me to fuck you stupid?"

Was he being for real? you were so close, yes, you did want him to fuck you, he was right about that but you wanted to cum, not have to be edged when you were so desperate to have an orgasm. nevertheless you did as you were told, having him cum inside you made you feel slightly better, albeit you wanted to come too.

You knew you were at fault and that this was your punishment for not listening, he did mention letting you cum if you were good enough, maybe he will feel sorry for you and let you, who knows.

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star-sim · 6 months

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head over heels ☆ sunghoon park

☆ spider-man! sunghoon x single mother! fem! reader ☆ summary: being a single mother was hard, especially when you lived in such a bustling, yet crime-ridden city. as a mother you personally dislike spider-man, even if your toddler son was obsessed with him. thank goodness, you have your best friend, sunghoon, to help you out at times. but little do you know, that same best friend of yours was spider-man. uh oh! ☆ genre: spider-man! au, friends to lovers, reader is a single mother, riki is your kid lol (can be interpreted as either adopted or biological), baddie reader alert! , down bad! + protective! sunghoon, slow-burn ish/very subtle romance ☆ warning(s)? minor violence ☆ word count: 16.9k words ☆ based off of "head over heels" by tears for fears, also i hope this reads as comic-booky lol

reblogs and feedback is appreciated!

"Sunghoon, is it just me or is Spider-Man the worst thing that's ever happened to this city?"

Sunghoon dropped the kitchen knife in his hand, the one that he was currently using to dice a few carrots.

Clunk!

The man looked over his shoulder to where you were.

It was only a few minutes ago that you came back from work— your 9-5 office job. The moment that your apartment door slammed shut, you kicked off your god-awful shoes, threw your keys aside, and made your way to the kitchen, where you found Sunghoon peacefully already making dinner.

It wasn't abnormal for Sunghoon to be casually in your apartment. In fact, it was more than ordinary.

Sunghoon was a good friend, someone that you had an infinite amount of trust in. Sometimes, your boss liked to fuck you over and make you work overtime, and sometimes your coworkers were so insufferable that all of your energy was spent, so it was convenient that Sunghoon would hang around your apartment and watch over it, and when the time came, make you dinner.

He never minded it. He actually quite enjoyed it. A lot.

Especially because house-sitting came with an extra responsibility: taking care of your son, Riki.

You were a single mother with a full-time job. Of course Sunghoon wouldn't mind taking some of the load off your back.

Currently, you sat at your kitchen table, flopped over yourself. You were still in your work clothes, your face still made up. Your feet ached, and your eyelids felt heavy.

You never questioned why Sunghoon had so much time on his hands, enough time to babysit and house-sit for you.

"Y-Yeah," Sunghoon answered, clearing his throat. "The worst."

Yes, he did have a job. Yes, his job had relatively short work hours. Yes, it paid pretty well.

And it was because Sunghoon was Spider-Man.

But you didn't have to know that.

"Riki's been napping since he got home from daycare," Sunghoon changed the subject. "He wouldn't stop calling out for you, so I had to show him a picture of you for him to fall asleep."

At the mention of your son's name, you perked up. Almost as if all of your tiredness melted away, you jumped to your feet, disappearing into the hallway.

Sunghoon couldn't help the grin that seeped onto his face when you came out with Riki, your one year-old son scooped up in your arms. From the kitchen, he could hear you coo at your son's sleepy face, giggling to yourself as Riki clutched onto you, digging his face into the crook of his neck.

"Riiiikiiii-yaaa!" you drawled, your voice sounding brighter. "I missed you, baby."

Sunghoon laughed, nearly chopping off his finger when Riki babbled some incoherent string of sounds, still sleepy from his long afternoon nap.

You brought Riki into the kitchen, sitting him down onto his baby-chair.

Sunghoon listened quietly, his attention directed at making the best meal possible, as you chattered with your son.

There was something so joyful about hearing you gush over Riki's every attempt to pronounce literally any coherent word, squealing when he managed to say, "dog."

"Mama!" Riki exclaimed, making grabby hands at you. From his peripheral vision, Sunghoon could see you melting, instantly scooping your son back up again, peppering his chubby cheeks with kisses.

One of things that Sunghoon loved about you: your endless devotion to your son.

You'd lay down your life for Riki, and it was one of the most loveable things about you.

"Hoo!" Riki laughed. "Hoo!"

The second thing that Sunghoon loved about you? Your son himself.

"Sunghoon, Riki wants you," you said, a smile in your voice. Riki couldn't pronounce Sunghoon, or even Hoon, so he instead opted for the much easier option: 'Hoo.'

Sunghoon instantly dropped his kitchen utensils, quickly washing and drying his hands. You hoisted up your son, carefully placing him into Sunghoon's arms while still having a gentle hold on him.

Sunghoon took the child.

Riki was a beautiful child. Sunghoon had spent a lot of time with him, to the point that he grew very fond of him. If there was something that he and Riki had in common, it was their love for you.

The three of you stayed like that for a few pulses: Sunghoon embracing Riki, while you stood close by, your hands still holding onto Riki.

Sunghoon could see both the tiredness and love in your eyes, and the youthful glimmer in Riki's chubby face.

There were moments like this, where you and Riki were simply close to him, relying on him for whatever support he could give, Sunghoon wished it could last forever.

Then, the three of you sat down to eat.

The rest of the night was quiet. You bathed Riki while Sunghoon prepared his clothes and diapers, and at the end, the two of you tucked Riki in.

"Good night, Riki," you whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

You were already at the doorway, fingering the light switch, when Sunghoon's eyes glazed over Riki.

"Good night, kiddo," he said quietly, so quiet that even Sunghoon couldn't hear himself, before ruffling Riki's hair.

"So, how was work?"

Perhaps, one of Sunghoon's favorite times of the day was after dinner, after you both washed up and Riki was in bed.

The two of you liked to hang around your living room, and just talk. It wasn't like you had any good work friends to talk to, but you didn't mind. After all, you had Sunghoon.

It was another one of those especially stressful and hectic days at work, so Sunghoon brought out a bottle of champagne.

"So bad," you huffed, reclining back on your couch, throwing an arm over your eyes. "So fucking bad."

Sunghoon nudged you with his foot, handing you a glass of sparkly champagne. Then, he rested at the head of the couch, gently taking your head into his hands and placing it onto his lap. His lanky fingers made his way to your shoulders, pressing down onto them. Slowly, he began to massage you.

"What happened?"

You groaned, sinking back into the warmth that was Sunghoon's fingers. "My fuckass boss. Decided to make me do the intern's work because I was five minutes late."

"That sucks," Sunghoon murmured, his fingers digging into your skin in a way that made you sigh in relief. "Is he giving you a hard time?"

"Always," you sighed. "I don't know why Choi promoted him. He's got a stick up his ass."

Sunghoon frowned.

He heard you cuss out your shitty boss and coworkers all the time, but he knew deep down, no matter how much you despised them, you would never abandon ship. It was in your blood to care too much, to put your all into something— anything— and expect nothing in return.

And that's what Sunghoon loved so much about you.

That's right, loved.

He threw that word around a lot when it came to you, but he truly meant it.

Sunghoon loved you. He didn't know how, whether it be as a friend, or as a lover, but he loved you and that's all he needed to know.

He loved you since the day you met in your senior years of high school.

He loved you when you cradled his face as he shed hot tears over his heartbreak.

He loved you when you and him snuck around the college dorms, creeping into each other's rooms to enjoy late-night ramen.

He loved you when you met your (now ex-) boyfriend Taehyun, and he didn't even think of loving you any less when you announced that you were having a child with him three years after graduating college.

And he loved you now as you slept peacefully on your couch, curling up against what warmth Sunghoon could give you.

Sunghoon gazed at you.

How could he not resist falling in love with you?

Your eyes kept fluttering as they were shut, your hands randomly twitching at times. You've been working so hard to provide for you and your son, while also sacrificing your time to spend with Sunghoon.

Sunghoon was pulled out of his thoughts when his phone rang. It was loud, loud enough that Sunghoon jumped and your body instinctively jerked in its place.

"Shit— shit!"

Of course Sunghoon knew exactly where his phone was. He shot a spider web across your house to grab his blaring phone.

Under the dim light, his blue phone screen illuminated the room.

Incoming call... Mr. Lee, it read.

Uh-oh.

Sunghoon was about to take the call, when he noticed you stirring in your sleep.

"Sung...hoon?" you muttered softly. Sunghoon immediately darted to your side.

"Shhh, it's nothing, [Name]," he said gently. He reached out to cup your cheek, to which you nuzzled your face into his palm, softly letting out a sleepy whimper. "Go back to sleep."

After a few moments of stirring, you fell back into your slumber.

Sunghoon glanced at his phone.

Incoming call... Mr. Lee. He couldn't miss it.

Then he glanced back at you, laying on the couch, shivering into yourself.

Fuck it.

Sunghoon scooped you up in his arms, doing his best to be gentle with you. As the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, it wasn't always easy trying to control his spidey senses and heightened abilities. But when it came to you, it almost came naturally.

He carried you to your bedroom, tucking you in with as many pillows and blankets as he could find.

"Good night," Sunghoon whispered. He stared at you for a few moments, his eyes studied your face. He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, before swallowing down hard. Would it be weird to give your forehead a kiss? He didn't even kiss Riki, because he didn't feel like it was his right to. Sunghoon sighed. He turned away from you, taking one more glance over his shoulder before he turned off the lights and shut your bedroom door.

(Of course, Sunghoon went to go check up on Riki before he cracked open your apartment window, already in his red and blue glory.)

"Yes, yes, I know, Mr. Lee," Sunghoon muttered into his phone. "I know, I'm already on it. Yes. Okay. Bye."

Sunghoon huffed to himself as he jammed his phone into his pocket, muttering curses under his breath.

A bank robbery on Main Street, nothing to be surprised at. The city's crime-rate had been increasing lately, much to Sunghoon's chagrin. The cold air kissed his masked cheeks as he swung from building to building.

It had become a routine for him. Every night, after listening to you talk enough for you to insist that he went home, or staying up late enough to see you fall asleep, Sunghoon usually found himself doing his night patrol. It was mundane, a slow and conventional routine, but Sunghoon loved it.

Seokmin Lee, or DK, was a man a few years his senior, and also the man employing him. To put it simply, DK was a bit of a mad scientist, and under certain circumstances, Sunghoon and him met. After a spider bite, DK's genetically modified organisms, and a lot of crime-fighting, Sunghoon became Spider-Man.

As Sunghoon peeked over the hedge, he watched the group of burglars sneakily creep out of the dark bank. It was insane to him how poor the security was, but what was more concerning was the cartoonish sack of money the robbers were carrying over their shoulders, and the fact that they were wearing black and white striped shirts. They looked like the robbers in Riki's kiddy cartoons.

If Riki was here, Sunghoon thought, he'd probably start laughing.

In one fell swoop, Sunghoon swung down to the robbers, landing a kick square on one of the robbers' heads.

"Agh—!"

"Good evening, gentlemen," Sunghoon greeted calmly, but his voice was filled with contempt. With one of the assailants knocked down, Sunghoon put his hands on his hips, cocking his head. "What're you up to tonight?"

He gazed at their faces: painted with horror and terror. Why didn't they even think of wearing masks when committing a crime? How dumb were they?

"S-Spiderman?!"

There's a pulse of silence, where Sunghoon just stared at them incredulously, almost expecting some sort of retaliation. Even though he was masked, his expression read, 'Can you guys try to put up a fight at least?'

"Get him!" The robbers yelled, beginning to charge at him.

"Let's not be ridiculous, guys" Sunghoon said exasperated, sighing.

He shot a web at two of the robbers as he attempted to attack him, before wrapping the white ropes around them, sticking them together. Another burglar tried to sneak up behind him, but they were almost pathetically too slow for his spider-like abilities.

Within minutes, Sunghoon had the criminals tied up with spider webs. He'd already called the cops.

"Curse you, Spider-man!"

Really, tonight was playing out like one of Riki's cartoons. It was almost funny.

"Yeah, yeah," Sunghoon waved off, brushing off any dirt on his suit. Before he shot a web up to a building, Sunghoon turned over his shoulder. "Next time, get better outfits. You guys look hilarious."

With that, Sunghoon began swinging away, ignoring the curses from the little criminals, whose cries got smaller and smaller.

The worst part about dealing with crime in this city was the outcomes. People saw that other people were attempting to commit crimes, leading them to want to commit crimes too. It was a never-ending snowball effect. It seemed like every day the crime was just escalating. A few months ago it was just petty theft and the occasional mugging every week. Now it seemed like there was some large scheme every day.

If the helicopters flying overhead and the police sirens weren't telling enough, the entire city was awake once again, trying to catch a glimpse of the commotion down on main street.

Checking his phone, there were already several news outlets trying to get a quick buck from reporting the situation. That was probably one of the worst aspects of crime-fighting: the concerning amount of people trying to profit off of it. They just loved to use Sunghoon's red and blue likeness on the front covers.

Truthfully, Sunghoon didn't care about fame. He couldn't stand the reporters shoving microphones in his face.

He only agreed to be Spider-Man for one reason and one reason only.

Ding!

Sunghoon slipped his phone out of his pocket.

[name]: just woke up i heard there was a robbery

[name]: you went home right? are you safe?

The corners of Sunghoon's lips lifted briefly. You had a specific way of showing you care for him, and it was exactly this.

sunghoon: yeah i'm safe

sunghoon: i just went out to get you more groceries

sunghoon: youre missing eggs and milk

[name]: thank you hoon, you didn't have to

But he did have to.

After all, you were you, and you deserved nothing but the best. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to take some responsibility off your shoulders.

sunghoon: i'll be back in 10

sunghoon: go back to sleep

Sunghoon was true to his word, as he returned within 10 minutes, with a bag of groceries in hand, to see you curled up on the couch, waiting for him to return. He couldn't help but smile.

"Hoo!"

Riki?

"Hoo, Hoo!"

Sunghoon was shaken awake by a weight on his chest, and soft, chubby hands grabbing his face.

If it weren't for his incredible spider abilities, Sunghoon thought that he would have punted someone. Luckily, he didn't, because it was Riki that was waking him up.

"Riki?" Sunghoon said groggily. Taking the child in his arms and holding him close, Sunghoon sat up. He noticed that he was back in your apartment, sprawled out across your couch. He squished Riki's cheek, earning a giggle from the baby. The man rubbed his eyes, yawning. "Where's your mom?"

"Right here," your voice entered the room, a slight smile in it. Sunghoon whipped his head around to see you standing at the doorway, in your work clothes.

You slinked over to Sunghoon and Riki.

"Good morning, Sunghoon," you smiled at him.

Sunghoon blinked at you. "What time is it?"

"Almost 8AM," you answered smoothly, taking your son out of Sunghoon's arms and stroking Riki's hair.

Sunghoon immediately jumped to his feet. He usually woke up an hour or two before that to prepare breakfast for you!

"Oh shit—!"

"Relax," you put your hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze and pushing him back down onto the couch. "I already made breakfast. Riki's already fed, too."

Sunghoon watched as you gave Riki a peck on the cheek, before giving your kid back to him.

"I'll be back by 6," you told him as you slipped on your shoes, "Breakfast is on the table, just heat it up if needed."

"Right," Sunghoon nodded slowly. "See you. Have a good day at work."

"You too," you said in a sing-songy voice, before heading out the door, leaving Sunghoon and Riki alone.

"Mama!" Riki cooed, making grabby hands at the door.

Sunghoon gently bonked the baby's head with his fist. "She just left."

Riki's lips formed into a pout, his eyebrows furrowing together as his chubby cheeks puffed out.

"Mama!" he argued back.

Sunghoon couldn't help but poke the kid's cheeks. "I already said, she just left."

And cue the tears.

Sunghoon and Riki had beef. Nothing serious, just that Riki, even if he was an actual baby, liked to bother Sunghoon. And because Riki was already so much like you, it was hard to say no to him. Even so, he found himself butting heads with the child from time to time.

As Riki wailed, Sunghoon sighed, hoisting him up.

"What am I going to do with you..." he muttered to himself.

"Ah wah mama! (I want Mama!)" Riki cried, squirming against Sunghoon's chest.

Days with Riki were fun.

And exhausting.

But more fun than not.

It usually started with feeding him, but thanks to you, he was already fed. The daycare didn't open until another few hours, so in this time Sunghoon found himself being the most shameful version of himself that he could think of. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration. But it was definitely a side of himself that made him cringe.

Case and point: Sunghoon's dreadful baby voice.

As he sat against the living room floor, Sunghoon let Riki sit on his lap against his chest. For such an active child, Riki especially liked it when Sunghoon read to him.

So that's what Sunghoon did.

Riki's little baby books were the interactive kind, the ones where the little caterpillars sprawled across the cardboard pages were fuzzy and the pop-out orange tree in the corner actually smelled of citrus.

It was unfortunate, at least to Sunghoon, because he always started off the reading with a completely normal voice, and by the end, he'd be talking to Riki with a high-pitched baby voice.

"Feel the grass, Riki," Sunghoon guided Riki's much smaller hand to the furry grassy patch on the book. He didn't even notice the way his voice got softer, going up airily at the end of his sentences. Riki babbled at the feeling of the soft texture under his fingertips, his eyes squeezing together as his high giggles filled the room. Sunghoon grinned. "Feels nice, right?.

Riki laughed again, clapping his chubby hands.

"I bet it does," Sunghoon rubbed his knuckle against Riki's cheek.

"Hoo!" Riki babbled suddenly.

Sunghoon picked the baby up, placing him on his feet and turning him around so that Sunghoon could see his face. Placing his hands on Riki's side to stabilize him, Sunghoon hummed. "What's up?"

"Hoo!" Riki repeated again, making grabby hands up at him. "Ub! (Up!)"

"Aren't you a little too old for upsies?" Sunghoon asked Riki as if he wasn't one year old, but still complied, lifting the kid up and resting Riki's face on his shoulder. Riki really liked it when Sunghoon carried him around while he did stuff, probably because Sunghoon's height made it a thrilling experience for him.

Sunghoon really enjoyed Riki's presence, even if the kid liked to give him hell.

Which was why he narrowed his eyes, looking around suspiciously as if you were there to catch him red-handed, before he tossed Riki’s small body into the air.

If Riki was any other normal baby, he'd scream in fear. But he wasn't. So all Riki did was let out an excited squeal. Almost immediately, Sunghoon shot a web at him, yanking him down from the air and into his arms in an instant.

"You better not tell your mother," Sunghoon booped Riki's nose as the baby clapped his hands, giggling. "She'll kick my ass if she knew that I was throwing you around."

And she'd also beat my ass if she knew that I was Spider-Man.

Speaking of which...

Sunghoon knew better than anyone how you felt about Spider-Man.

In short, you hated him. You hated Spider-Man, and you almost never failed to let Sunghoon know that.

You had a pretty simple reason: even if Spider-Man was a crime-fighter, the way that he was publicized made him more like a celebrity than a public servant. Because of this, people chose to commit more crime in the hopes of getting some sort of attention, which completely defeated the purpose of having a crime-fighter like Spider-Man.

Sunghoon was mere weeks into his job as Spider-Man, in the middle of bandaging up the cut on his hand that he got from fighting crime, when you suddenly barged into your apartment, throwing your bag aside as you exasperatedly began ranting about how a run-in with Spider-Man caused complete and utter hell for you when you commuted back from work.

Many months later you still carried that sentiment.

And if he had to be honest, Sunghoon had to agree with you.

It wasn't like he detested being Spider-Man. After all, it paid his bills and allowed him to watch over you and make sure that you were safe. But, still, he wasn't a fan of the media coverage.

All he wanted to do was protect you and Riki. Was that too much to ask for?

Would Sunghoon ever tell you that he was Spider-Man? Probably not. Would you be mad at him for being Spider-Man? Probably. But would you shun him? Maybe for a month, but not any longer. Still, Sunghoon wasn't afraid of going no-contact with you for a month. It was the fear of disappointing you and losing your trust.

He'd rather die than lose your trust!

But sometimes it was difficult to conceal his identity.

Like right now.

The day went on as per usual: Sunghoon played around more with Riki, before taking him to daycare. Then, Sunghoon went to do his Spider-Man activities, before picking Riki up again. It was the end of a stressful week, so you came home early and announced that you made dinner plans for the three of you.

And that's how Sunghoon found himself sitting in a fancy dimly-lit restaurant. Across from him sat you, wearing a dress that made him stare at you for a little longer than he should have.

Maybe it was the jazz music playing in the background, or the way that your gloss-laden lips clung to the delicate glass of champagne that you swished in your hand, but Sunghoon couldn't take his eyes off of you.

Thanks to the fact that Riki was sitting at the table with his baby high-chair, two of the waiting staff had already mistaken you and Sunghoon for a married couple. Not that Sunghoon minded. And it didn't seem like you minded either, because all you did was throw your head back with a laugh and clutch Sunghoon's arm.

In fact, if Sunghoon had to be honest, you've been confusing him lately.

Or maybe he was confusing himself.

Because he swore that your eyes have been lingering on him lately, running over his figure from time to time before you cracked that little smug grin on your face— the type of grin that made Sunghoon shrink into himself. You've been touchier, holding his arm in the crook right in between your chest, almost like you knew that it would make him nervous. You began picking up this habit of looking at his lips, then gazing back up at his eyes, before licking your own lips with a smile. It was driving him crazy.

Why was he feeling this way?

And more importantly, why were you torturing him like this? You were a mother, you were someone well-respected and feared in your workplace because of your sheer ability to read people. You knew your effect on people, so you must know what you were doing to him. Right?

"Sunghooooon," you sang, resting your face on your hands, propped up in a way that made it impossible to ignore how good you looked tonight. Sunghoon was pulled out of his thoughts, his eyes quivering over to you. "What're you thinking about?"

Sunghoon blinked a few times. "Nothing."

You rolled your eyes playfully, reaching across the table to gently hit his hand. "Don't lie to me. I know when there's something on your mind."

"Lie!" Riki giggled, repeating your words like a little parrot. "Lie! Lie!"

"See?" you ruffled your son's hair. "Even Riki agrees. What's up?"

Sunghoon opened his mouth to speak, but he was distracted when you reached for your glass of sparkly champagne once more, bringing it up to your lips.

"What?" you cocked a brow at him as he stared at you. "We drank with each other last night. What's so surprising about me drinking right now?"

Sunghoon gulped.

You were scary like that, always so straightforward. It made him piss himself, but it also made him want to melt into a pile of mush.

"It's nothing." He cleared his throat. "I'm just stressed about work."

"Awww," you frowned. "What happened?"

Sunghoon was talking straight out of his ass, because you reached over the table, beginning to play with his hands. Your eyes were trained on the shapes that you drew on his palms, but you hummed from time to time as words tumbled out of his mouth.

You had to be doing this on purpose.

It was weird, because Sunghoon never felt this way around you. What he felt toward you was quiet, something that was a basic fact to him. But now, all he could do was watch as you fed Riki airplane-style, making funny airplane engine noises as your baby laughed, trying to calm the beating of his heart.

Why did you have so be so attractive? Why was he feeling so warm?

It was a peaceful dinner, save for the war beginning to bubble inside of Sunghoon.

That was, until a loud crash rang through the restaurant. Then, there were whispers, car sirens, and at last, shrieking. The jazz music stopped as a hush fell over the restaurant.

Your first instinct was to take Riki out of his high-chair and into your arms, so you did that.

But the moment that you brought your eyes up to where Sunghoon should have been, he was gone.

Like, absolutely gone.

His seat was empty. His plate of food, as fell as his folded cloth napkin and silver cutlery, were left exactly as you last remembered. Sunghoon simply disappeared all of a sudden.

But before you could even say his name, another crash rang through the restaurant as someone screeched, "Giganto!"

Giganto was a self-proclaimed supervillain on the rise. The last time that you heard about him was a few months ago, when he tried to pull off some stupid scheme to take down Spider-Man. It was a pathetic attempt. But now he was back, with admittedly impressive equipment and a nasty spandex suit.

Based on your understanding of the layout of the restaurant, it seems like the front portion of it was crashed into. Which meant that the front entrance was 100% not an option.

And that became even more apparent to you when Giganto, in his pink spandex glory, began cackling villainously, announcing his arrival. What he said in his very unnecessary villain monologue was unknown to you, because you were too distracted by Riki, who was beginning to tear up in fear.

"Shh, shh," you held your son against your shoulder, your hand coming up to cup his ear. You pressed kisses on his face, petting his hair in an attempt to calm him down. "Baby, Baby it's okay. We're okay. Don't cry, Mama's here—"

"Run!" someone shrieked as another contraption began prowling into the restaurant. It was massive and made of some metal, some sort of machine that Giganto probably made to assert his dominance. It didn't matter to you. What did matter was the two people that you cared about: Riki, and.... hey, where's Sunghoon?

Your feet were just about to start moving when your eyes glazed over Sunghoon's still-empty seat. Your heart dropped to your stomach.

"Sunghoon?" you said to yourself, your eyes wide as they flickered around the slowly-crumbling restaurant for any familiar sign of your best friend. "Sunghoon!"

"Hoo!" Riki cried out.

You couldn't find him, amidst all the dust and hoards of people running past you.

You felt Riki's tears wet your shoulder.

You had to get out of here, if you wanted to save yourself and Riki.

But Sunghoon...

If you did not start running now, you would die. Riki would die.

I'm sorry, Sunghoon, you squeezed your eyes shut, before your feet picked up. You ran, you ran as fast as you could, trying your best to ignore your motherly instinct to stop and kiss Riki as he wailed. You didn't even realize it until your face was wet that you, too, were crying.

It could be fear, it could be uncertainty, it could be because your own son was sobbing. Or maybe it was guilt. Guilt because you could have waited for Sunghoon, but didn't.

Guilt, because you made it out of the crumbling restaurant, but Sunghoon did not.

Guilt, because you left your best friend to die.

You didn't know how long you ran, but you ran far enough that you could no longer hear the helicopters and screaming, only your and Riki's sniffles.

"Shhh," you shakily consoled Riki, rubbing circles on his back, doing your best to ignore the weight on your chest. "It's okay, Baby. We're okay."

But you knew you weren't. Not after what happened back there.

How could you abandon him back there, when he's done everything for you? How could you do him like that, as if he wasn't the sole reason that you weren't dead in a ditch right now? You were a horrible friend, and an even worse person for letting that happen.

All of a sudden, you were lifted off your feet. Literally. One moment you were walking under a streetlight, the next you were in the air.

"S-Spider-Man?!"

With one hand wrapped tightly around Riki, your other hand came up to grip the hero's bicep. Your stomach did flips as you looked down, seeing the city beneath you.

"Hey there," his voice was solemn.

"Where the—" you squeezed your eyes shut as you peered down— "Where the hell are you taking us?"

You felt Spider-Man tense under your touch, almost like he was wincing.

"I-I'm taking you home."

Your eyes narrowed.

Was it normal for a superhero to be stuttering as they save a civilian?

"And you're taking me home because you know where I live? How?" You felt bad for being so cold, for being so incredibly frigid toward him, but you couldn't let your guard down. Not when you were 100 meters in the air holding your son. Not when you already lost Sunghoon back there.

"I don't," Spider-Man quipped quickly. It was now that you noticed the cut on his shoulder, with dark red blood seeping out and exposing his skin. "Will you show me the way?"

You glanced down at Riki, who was now beginning to fall asleep. He was unlike you in the way that he liked thrill, even when he was just a little baby

You couldn’t say that you were happy with who Spider-Man was, but you were not going to reject the help he was giving you right now. Not when your son was on the line.

You huffed. “Make a turn right here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Spider-Man muttered.

You did not know why, but it seemed like the sound of the hero’s voice made Riki stir.

“Hoo,” Riki babbled sleepily. “Hoo…”

Sunghoon.

Again, you felt Spider-Man tense.

“My friend…” you began, swallowing your pride. “His name is Sunghoon. I-I couldn’t find him back there.”

Spider-Man hummed.

“Can you… I mean— Do you think you can look for him? I’m really worried.

Spider-Man gazed at you, looking at you with his masked face. For some reason, you thought that he was grinning behind the mask, and you almost began shouting at him. But the hero only nodded, saying, “I promise you that he’s safe, Ma’am.”

You looked at him pensively, doubt painted across your expression as you chewed on your lip.

“But if it makes you feel better I’ll look for him.”

You nodded slowly, still doubtful.

The rest of the trip to your apartment is quiet.

Sunghoon 100% expected you to start yelling at him the moment he appeared in your apartment doorway. And he 100% was going to smile through all thirty minutes of it.

“You’re so fucking stupid, why did you disappear like that?! Do you know how much that scared me?! I thought I lost you and you died, Oh my God you’re so fucking annoying, I was losing my mind—“

Sunghoon was laughing at you as you lightly punched his arms, his sharp canine teeth peeking through, when he noticed the glassy sheen over your eyes.

You had tears in your eyes, hot tears that you were blinking back as worried words spilled from your lips. Immediately, Sunghoon stopped his laughing, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close.

He was happy that you cared about him so much, unable to hide the way his lips still pulled upwards as you pressed your face into his chest.

It was late at night by now. Riki was already sound asleep. There was something about the way you sobbed in his arms that warmed his heart, that someone as strong as you would allow him the privilege of seeing you tremble.

"I didn't know you cared so much, [Name]," Sunghoon teased. He expected you to hit him again, tell him to shut up, and maybe bite back a laugh, but all you did was shake your head.

"No," you murmured against his shirt. "I failed you."

"What're you talking about?" Sunghoon squeezed your shoulder. "You didn't fail anyone."

"No..." you squeezed your eyes shut, clinging onto Sunghoon even harder. You stayed like that for a little bit, simply holding the man in your arms like he'd disappear. Then, you pulled away, letting your gaze meet his. "I... I ran away when I should have waited for you."

Sunghoon only stared at you confused.

You licked your lips, your expression pinching. "I-I got scared so I ran, I ran so far away a-and—" you let out a heavy breath, pushing your face into your hands— "I-I'm such a shitty friend, Sunghoon."

Sunghoon blinked.

Oh!

Sunghoon remembered now, the way he disappeared from the face of earth the moment that disaster struck. One moment he was trying to breathe when you looked at him, the next he was in a tight spandex suit.

Of course you had to 'abandon' him. Sunghoon was Spider-Man! There was no way that you would be able to stay back to wait for him.

It should be easy to explain to you, that you could not have possibly been at fault, because the situation was already imbalanced to begin with.

But there was just one little problem!

How was Sunghoon going to explain this to you without revealing that he's Spider-Man?

Sunghoon pulled his lip between his teeth, unable to hide the awkward-panicked expression painting itself on his features as you cried into his shoulder.

Curse you for being such a caring person, he sucked in a sharp breath.

He didn't like seeing you cry, so he needed to dig himself out of this one soon.

What the hell was he supposed to say now?

"D-Don't cry," Sunghoon's lips moved on their own. "It's not your fault."

"It is though!" you cried.

"No..." Sunghoon let his panic mode take over. Quick, he needed to make something up. "I-I... It was my fault. I.. uhh..."

The man's eyes darted over to the kitchen, where in the rack lay plates, bowls, and Riki's baby utensils.

Ah, Riki.

It was a small inside joke between Sunghoon and you that Riki was always gassy. After all, he was a baby.

"I needed to use the bathroom really badly," Sunghoon swallowed all his pride. "A-And I was there the entire time... because it was really bad."

You pulled away from him, taking a look at his face. If it wasn't for the awkward topic at hand, you'd call out how uncomfortable he looked. Your brows furrowed, confused.

"What are you talking about?"

Sunghoon blinked a few times. "There was no way that you could have waited for me... I was in the bathroom the entire time..."

"Doing what?"

"You know..." Sunghoon felt his face warm up. "Doin' my business..."

"Oh."

Sunghoon wanted the floor to open up below him and eat him whole, because within seconds, your distressed, pained crying face melted into a massive smile. You threw your head back, your eyes crinkling into thin crescents, sweet laughs mixed with sniffles spilling out of your lips.

Sunghoon stood there, ears and cheeks pink, with his dignity shattered in his hands. He wanted to die, yes, but it made him feel better than you were no longer crying, just laughing. He couldn't help but feel a grin grow on his face.

"I'm sorry, Sunghoon," you squeezed his shoulders, wiping your eyes-- tears not from crying earlier but from laughing so hard. The way you brought your hand up to ruffle his hair, a reassuring smile on your face, made Sunghoon feel like a child, only furthering his embarrassment. "I didn't mean to laugh."

Sunghoon's lips pulled downward, forming an unintentional pout.

"Awww," you patted his head even more, "I appreciate your honesty. It takes a lot of courage to admit that."

It was definitely hard to stay embarrassed when you were so gentle about it, reassuring him every other sentence that you weren't judging him.

Sure, Sunghoon just embarrassed himself in front of you, but it was better than having to see you cry over something that you had no agency over to begin with.

Anything for you.

"Papa!"

"R-Riki, I'm not your-"

"Papa!"

No, no, no! This cannot be happening right now!

It was another afternoon of looking after Riki.

Riki just got back from daycare, and took a long and cozy nap. Sunghoon shook him awake an hour later. However, instead of Riki's wide owlish eyes blinking a few times before recognizing Sunghoon's face, exclaiming "Hoo!" as he always did, Riki seemed to learn a new word.

"Papa!"

Papa.

Riki knew the word mama. Of course he did, he knew you.

However, from the beginning, Riki never knew his own legal father, Taehyun. Sure, Taehyun dropped by ever-so-often, but he was no more than a stranger to Riki than a random person on the street.

Riki never says papa.

But now he just called Sunghoon papa.

Sunghoon had been spending the past 10 minutes trying to get Riki to call him Hoo again, but it seemed like nothing would work.

Sunghoon held both of Riki's tiny hands.

"I'm Hoo," Sunghoon said slowly. "Say it to me, Riki. Say Hoo."

"H.... H..." Riki began.

"That's right, you're almost there."

"H...H..." Riki's expression pinched. "Papa!"

"No!"

Truth be told, Sunghoon wanted to cry.

Riki calling him Papa and basically recognizing him as his father figure? The thought of it made Sunghoon tear up already.

He always tried his best to be there for you and Riki. To say that you and Riki were the joys of his life would be an understatement; Sunghoon did everything, even undertaking sketchy hero jobs, for the sake of you two. It wasn't like he expected anything in exchange. In fact, Sunghoon didn't even expect to be considered part of the family.

"Papa!"

"Riki..." Sunghoon's chest tightened at the little proud smile painted across Riki's face. "Riki, I'm not your—"

Ding dong! the doorbell rang.

Leaving Riki on the couch, Sunghoon opened the door without a thought.

Big mistake.

Because the person standing loud and proud at the door was the worst person that Sunghoon could think of.

"T-Taehyun?"

Taehyun Kang, the legal father of Riki, and also your slightly-obsessed ex-boyfriend.

Sunghoon gave Taehyun a once-over. Taehyun was dressed in a crisp dress-shirt, almost as if he was dressed up for a date. He held a bouquet of flowers, his hair slicked back neatly.

The moment that Taehyun's eyes fell upon Sunghoon, his eyes narrowed, something that wasn't surprising. You and Taehyun dated for a few years, and during those years you were friends with Sunghoon, too. Taehyun was always malicious towards Sunghoon, something that both you and Sunghoon never understood.

Sunghoon was in love with you, yes, and that love extended to respecting you and your relationships. He never did anything in all the years that you were with Taehyun.

"What are you doing here?" Taehyun spat.

"I'm—"

Taehyun pushed past Sunghoon, stepping through the doorway. "Whatever, where's [Name]?"

"She's—"

"Papa!"

Shit.

Taehyun perked up at the sound of Riki's voice, rushing to the living room and throwing the bouquet aside. Taehyun scooped Riki up into his arms as he coddled him dramatically, exclaiming, "Why didn't you tell me he learned that word?"

Sunghoon's heart sank. Was it bad that he felt a twinge of jealousy? Maybe Riki said papa and thought of Taehyun and not him. After all, Taehyun was supposed to be his father, not Sunghoon. But still. Did Taehyun spend nearly every waking minute with Riki? Did Taehyun put in any effort to spend time with Riki, other than a visit every three months? Has Taehyun ever even changed Riki's diapers? Brush his teeth? Make him breakfast?

Sunghoon felt his blood boil as Taehyun pranced around your apartment— the apartment that he had no right to claim— with Riki in his arms, saying that he was anything close to being Riki's papa.

"Tae!" Sunghoon could hear Riki exclaim from the other room.

"No, Riki," Taehyun said. "You said it earlier. I'm papa."

"Tae!"

"Say Papa, Riki."

"P... P.... Tae!"

Taehyun barged back into the living room, where Sunghoon sat patiently. The moment that Riki saw Sunghoon's face, he cried, "Papa!"

"He just said it again!" Taehyun was bright, but his face fell the moment that he saw Riki's grabby hands at Sunghoon, coupled with the way that Riki squirmed in his hold. Taehyun whipped his head around. He pointed an accusatory finger at Sunghoon. "You!"

"Papa!" Riki said, this time smiling brightly at Sunghoon, something that he hadn't done once at Taehyun.

Sunghoon couldn't help but bask in the sick satisfaction he felt, but he hid it under a scowl. "What?"

"You're stealing my family," Taehyun claimed, his expression painted with anger.

"I'm not," Sunghoon said calmly.

"You think I'm stupid?" Taehyun pressed, placing Riki down. "I know that you've been in love with [Name] since the beginning, and just because me and her are on a break, you think that you can just swoop in and play Prince Charming."

"I—"

"No, I know!" Taehyun raised his voice. Riki hated it when people raised their voice, silently cowering into himself. Taehyun would have known that if he put any ounce of effort into Riki. "I don't know what you did to Riki, to make him think that you're his father, but it's fucked up. You're fucked up. You will never be a part of this family."

Sunghoon stayed silent for a few moments. The air was tense, so silent that the only audible sound was the sound of Riki's breath.

Sunghoon sucked in a sharp breath.

"What's Riki's favorite color?" was all he said.

"W-What?"

"I asked," Sunghoon looked at Taehyun boredly. "What's Riki's favorite color?"

Taehyun's eyebrows crashed together. "Why does that matter?"

"You're his dad, aren't you?" Sunghoon said simply. "You should know."

Taehyun's expression stayed scrunched together, but no words fell from his lips.

That's right, he doesn't fucking know.

"It's black." Sunghoon got up to where Riki was, scooping him up into his arms, to which Riki giggled and exclaimed Papa! quietly. "Did you know that Riki needs to hold a stuffed toy to sleep? Did you know that his favorite one is a stuffed dog named Bisco? Did you know that Riki's favorite song is Beat It by Michael Jackson?"

Sunghoon stroked Riki's hair, relishing in the way Taehyun dug his nails into his palms, his ears burning red. "Taehyun, what's Riki's dominant hand?"

Taehyun gulped. "Isn't he right-handed?"

"Nope," Sunghoon couldn't hide the satisfied grin on his face. "He's left-handed. In fact, he is allergic to the chrysanthemums that you brought over there."

The room went silent for a few more pulses.

"I might not be Riki's father, but you aren't either," Sunghoon said calmly, strolling over to the front door. "Please get out."

Taehyun never left quicker (and he took the flowers, too).

The apartment was quiet again.

Sunghoon didn't know how to feel.

He would be lying if he said that Taehyun's words didn't get to him.

But Sunghoon also felt anger and satisfaction. Taehyun had no right to call himself a part of your family. He made you suffer, both in the past and now. He was a shitty co-parent and an even shittier dad to Riki. Sunghoon hoped that Taehyun understood his place now.

"Papa..." Riki murmured as he crawled toward Sunghoon, nuzzling his cheek into Sunghoon's hand that came up to cup his face.

"That's right," Sunghoon whispered. "Papa's here."

The day went on as normal after that fiasco.

At least, that's what Sunghoon thought.

Because after putting Riki to bed, you led Sunghoon into your bedroom.You locked the door, making Sunghoon gulp.

The serious expression on your face, and the way that you crossed your arms over your chest, freaked him out.

"Sit down." And he did so immediately, sitting his ass down on the bed the moment those words left your lips.

Sunghoon felt like he was a child about to be scolded. He chewed on his bottom lip, wringing his fingers as he carefully watched your standing figure.

"I got a call from Taehyun earlier," you said, your back turned to him.

Shit.

"Said that you were being disrespectful and brainwashing Riki." Sunghoon gulped as you glanced over your shoulder, your eyebrow cocked. "Care to explain?"

"I... I..." Sunghoon's mouth felt dry as he scrambled to gather words. "R-Riki started calling me p... papa, and Taehyun thought that I was brainwashing Riki into thinking that I was his dad, or something..."

You clicked your tongue, about to say something, but Sunghoon continued.

"I just— I just told him that he should be around more if he wanted... if he wanted Riki to call him papa," he added quickly, a grimace falling upon his expression, wincing with the way you took a deep breath.

Did Sunghoon overstep boundaries? It wasn't like you loved Taehyun— in fact you've been done with him for a while now— but it was an irrefutable fact that Taehyun was there before Sunghoon. Was Sunghoon wrong in thinking that he was even a part of your family? Was he getting ahead of himself? What if both you and Riki saw Taehyun as Riki's father figure and not him?

"Hey," Sunghoon was pulled out of his thoughts when you put a hand on his shoulder. "Relax. I'm not mad at you."

"Y-You aren't?"

You scoffed. "Of course not."

You rubbed your temples. "I'm more mad at Taehyun for barging in and causing a ruckus. Did he say anything else?"

"He said..." Sunghoon bit down on his bottom lip. Should he tell you this? "Never mind."

Your brows furrowed, pressing further. "What did he say?"

You sat down beside Sunghoon on the bed, noticing the way a deep frown painted itself on his features. You took his hand into yours, squeezing it. "I'm on your side, Sunghoon. I won't be mad."

Sunghoon licked his lips. "Just that... I will never be a part of your family."

He continued before you could respond. "I don't think I am... It just bothered me a little bit."

Your face scrunched, before you pushed Sunghoon's shoulder so that he laid down on the bed. You took his head onto your lap, gently running your fingers through his hair. Sunghoon let out a surprised squeak, shuddering at the feeling of your fingers. He pursed his lips, unable to hide his flustered expression.

"You don't think that you're a part of this family?" you asked, your voice quiet. Sunghoon could hear the hurt in your voice.

"I..." You aren't going to bite, you never do. "I'd like to be... but it's not my place to say whether or not I am."

You clicked your tongue, anger rising in your tone. "And it's Taehyun's place to?"

"W-Well—"

"When has he ever done anything for this family?" your voice was filled with indignation, but your hands stayed gentle in his hair. "Taehyun will never be even half the man that you are, Sunghoon. He'll never do any of the things that you do, and that's because he's dead to this family."

You patted Sunghoon's cheek, making him look up at you. Your gaze softened, your lips curving up as you gazed at Sunghoon's wide, dark eyes. They were shiny, almost glossy, as if he was tearing up. "And I think Riki calling you papa is a testament to how much you mean to me and him. You're our family, Sunghoon."

The room was silent again. You and Sunghoon stayed like that, gazing at each other for what felt like years.

You felt all types of emotions, the main one being sheer anger. Who did Taehyun think he was? And even more importantly, how dare he take his audacity and hurt Sunghoon?

Sunghoon was your savior, he really was. You had no idea what you would do without him.

Watching as he tried to discreetly wipe the tears in his eyes, you threw your head back, letting a few chuckles fall from your lips.

His earnesty, how willing he was to help, and his sensitive side were all things that you cherished about him; they were all things that made you fall in love with him.

You don't know when it happened, or when you realized that you, in fact, loved your best friend, but it didn't matter that much.

It didn't help that Sunghoon was so painfully obvious. You didn't want to get too ahead of yourself, but you weren't stupid. You noticed Sunghoon staring at you for a little longer than he should, the way he got nervous whenever you touched him. It was adorable.

If you had less self-control, you would have grabbed Sunghoon's face and kissed him so hard that he'd see stars. After all, for all the little things you did in the hopes of driving him crazy, his wide eyes staring at you like you were some god drove you crazy.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to loosen up a bit.

After all, Sunghoon had to endure Taehyun and the trouble that he brought. He took it like a champ.

He deserved a kiss, didn't he? For everything that he's done for you, for all the trouble that he's gone through. You figured he deserved a reward.

Slowly, you brushed Sunghoon's bangs away from his face, exposing his forehead. His shiny eyes followed you as you readjusted your position so that you laid beside him.

"[Name]?" his voice was a small whisper. God, you just wanted to eat him up.

You hummed, as you leaned closer to him. Sunghoon watched with fluttering eyes and a beating heart. Your face was inching so close to his that he was sure that you could hear how hard his heart was beating.

Was it just him, or was it getting hot in here?

Sunghoon's stomach did a flip at the way you gazed at him with lidded eyes, your beautiful lips parted. Oh, if the sky didn't part open and swallow him whole right now. You were so close, so close that he could feel your breath on his cheek.

If you didn't pull away now, Sunghoon thought that his fingers, which were now getting sticky with webs that came out when he couldn't control his nerves, would shoot actual webs.

"Sunghoon," you finally said, your hand coming up to gently guide his face, making him look straight at you. He faltered under your gaze.

"Y-Yes?"

There, you did it again— that thing where you glanced down at his lips for a few moments, before flickering back up to his eyes with a slight, smug grin. You were driving him crazy.

"Can I kis—"

Knock knock!

"Mama! Papa!"

Both you and Sunghoon immediately pulled away from each other, sitting up. You rushed to your bedroom door, opening it to find a tearful Riki (with Bisco his stuffed dog) in hand. You were quick to scoop him up, though you noticed the awkward expression on Sunghoon's face.

"What?"

How could you act like nothing happened?

"I-I—" Sunghoon stammered, his face bright red and his hair disheveled. He couldn't hide his disappointment now that you weren't close to him anymore.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Calm down, you dork."

With that, you left the room to go comfort your son, leaving Sunghoon alone, his mind fried and his cheeks pink.

Except, you came back within a few moments, this time without Riki.

With one hand, you grabbed Sunghoon's shoulder. With the other, you took his face, taking the poor man by surprise. Gently, you pressed your lips onto the corner of his lips, placing down a soft, chaste kiss.

It was a short, innocent kiss, one that barely lasted a second.

But Sunghoon froze, his mind filled with nothing but you, you, you.

"Happy now?" you rasped against the shell of his ear before pulling away. You chuckled at the way Sunghoon watched you with eyes as big as saucers, his entire face and neck now red, so warm that you could feel it radiating off of him.

That was scary about you, how you could read him so easily. You had him in the palms of your hands, ready to eat him up and play with him like he was putty.

You got up to leave, but when you got to the doorway, you stopped. You turned over your shoulder, a sly grin spread across your face.

"By the way, Sunghoon," you purred. "You should probably come quick. Riki just had a nightmare. Think he needs both mama and papa."

Shit, you were going to kill him.

"Papa!"

No, no, no! This cannot be happening right now.

Why did Sunghoon agree to this?!

A few days ago, DK told Sunghoon about an absolutely appalling opportunity: a Spider-Man meet-and-greet.

Sunghoon didn't know what sick person had this idea, but he reluctantly agreed.

And that's how he found himself on a Saturday afternoon sitting at a Spider-Man fan convention. He could be at home, spending time with you and Riki, but no, he's here taking pictures with little kids.

A few kids already spilt their juice and slushies on him. Mothers shoved their babies in his face, while squealing middle schoolers took the most indiscreet pictures of him. It was hot, and Sunghoon was getting tired of putting on his customer-service voice.

Just as Sunghoon was about to sigh for the nth time that afternoon, he spotted two familiar faces in line.

Yours and Riki's.

You looked annoyed, maybe just as annoyed as Sunghoon was feeling, while Riki had the brightest smile on his face.

When he realized that you and Riki were in line to meet him, Sunghoon tried his best to speed through all the pleasantries and selfies.

And at last, you were up next.

"Hi, Spider-Man," you said quietly through gritted teeth. It was obvious that you were only here because of Riki.

"Hi, ma'am," Sunghoon said as curtly as possible.

Your face scrunched, unable to hide your disdain for Sunghoon as Spider-Man.

"Uh, this is Riki, my son," you said, carefully handing your son over to the hero. You sighed, reluctantly taking out your phone to snap a few pictures. "Riki really loves your work."

"Smile for the picture, Riki!" you said, and that's the only time that you've smiled in the past ten minutes.

And then, the worst words tumbled out of Riki's mouth.

"Papa!"

Um.

What?

Sunghoon should have known. Last time, when he was carrying you and Riki through the sky, Riki recognized him as "Hoo" almost immediately.

And now, it seemed like Riki could still recognize him, this time as papa.

Sunghoon tensed up, and he froze up even more when Riki began to snuggle up against his blue and red - clad chest, giggling, "Papa!"

You looked horrified, your mouth agape and your brows knitted together.

"I-I'm so sorry, Spider-Man," you stammered, taking Riki back into your arms. "I don't know what's gotten into him."

"It's— ahem— fine," Sunghoon quipped. "Have a nice day, ma'am."

Sunghoon found himself frowning the entire time, until he checked his phone.

[name]: spiderman wants to be you so bad

[name]: riki called him papa

[name]: sorry but youre the only papa i know

He couldn't help but chuckle at that.

Sunghoon has been acting strange.

You knew it better than anyone else.

It all started after another city-wide crisis. Giganto, the mad supervillain that Spider-Man's been fighting with for months, spread some contaminant in the water supply. This could have been avoided if Spider-Man just left the city, but alas, a few people had to be hospitalized. After that, the city's crime rate ran up the walls.

It wasn't difficult to notice it, the way Sunghoon's face scrunched up like he was deep in thought more often than not, the way he was quick to object you going out to the convenience store after dark, the way that he disappeared for a few hours at a time, suspiciously aligning with news reports, and most noticeably, the way that Sunghoon winced every time that you named Spider-Man.

You weren't stupid. In fact, you couldn't tell if you could just read Sunghoon well, or if he was just horrible at hiding how he felt.

As of now, you had a few suspicions, but all of them centered around one thing: Sunghoon had some affiliation with Spider-Man. He had to have, it was the only thing that made sense.

"I really don't think you should, [Name]," Sunghoon reasoned with you one night, his hands buried in his hair.

"Why not?" Tonight, you wanted to test the waters even more. Sunghoon seemed to get antsy whenever you went out at night alone. "I'm just going to get groceries. We ran out of eggs."

You had your back turned to him as you jammed your feet into your shoes, but you listened closely to the worry in his voice.

"I-I can go get it tomorrow morning," he stumbled over his words.

"What difference does that make?" you pressed. "Eggs that I buy at night are the same as eggs that you buy in the morning."

You reached for the door. "I'll be back in 20, promise."

You didn't know what switch flipped, but it seemed like as the door hinges turned, Sunghoon reached for your hand so fast that you didn't even see him moving. Has he always been that fast?

His grip was firm.

"I'll go with you," Sunghoon said solemnly.

You narrowed your eyes. "Suit yourself."

That was your tactic, pushing Sunghoon's limit until he had no choice but to take action.

He was iffy about you going out at night, so you made sure to do it more often. Each time, he insisted that he went with you. It was funny, because he'd follow you like a guard dog, so willing to fight anyone that even so much as looked in your direction.

"Relax, it's just some kid."

"He looked at you funny."

"He looks like he's nine years old. He is not an assailant."

"But he can be."

You didn’t mind that Sunghoon wanted to go with you. It gave you an excuse to hold his hand, and snuggle up against his side in the cold hair. Sometimes, he’d give you his jacket, and you got to be engulfed in his scent. As long as you got to spend time with him, you figured that you didn't mind.

It was now that you realized just how strong Sunghoon was. He carried bags of groceries like it was nothing, and when you and him kicked pebbles along the sidewalk, he kicked his pebble with such minimal effort, yet it still somehow flung across the street at lightning speed.

But along with sticking with you at night, he texted you a lot more during the day, asking if you were okay. Did he think that you wouldn't notice?

What threw you off even more was when he randomly caught a fly with his bare hands, crushing the poor thing right between his fingertips like it was nothing. Since when did he have such precision?

Sunghoon has been acting strange, and you were going to get to the bottom of it.

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes at his phone screen for what felt like the millionth time this week.

It was noon now, Riki was at daycare and you were at work.

It was no secret that the crime rate was rising at an alarming rate. Sunghoon found himself fighting crime after crime, nearly blowing his cover multiple times.

As Sunghoon swung from building to building, he gazed down at the cityscape. It was still early in the day. He could see school children playing ball, laughing as if there wasn't a robbery just down the street. Businessmen in crisp suits pranced around the sidewalks like they owned the place, while public transitters waited around for the bus.

It was still crazy to him, how any one of these people could be the next person that he had to fatefully stop from committing a crime.

The only good things about being Spider-Man, at this rate, was that he could easily watch over you throughout the day and that he could help people. If he got another microphone shoved in his face, Sunghoon might become the criminal.

"Are you serious?!" Sunghoon couldn't help but exclaim as he peered over the ledge.

He was on his daily patrol, checking alleyways and stopping muggers, when he spotted a child, no older than ten, getting robbed.

Seriously? A child?

Sunghoon sighed.

"Oi!" Sunghoon shouted as he swung down, extending his leg so that he could land an easy kick on the assailant's cheek. Maybe Sunghoon put a little too much force, because he swore he heard a cracking noise. As he landed, he made sure to stand in front of the child, shielding him from the assailant.

"Hey man," Sunghoon said smoothly, yet even through his masked face his contempt was apparent. "You realize this kid is like seven, right? Stop trying to rob children."

The assailant groaned in pain, still keeled over on the ground, so Sunghoon took that moment to usher the child away, leaving the two in the alleyway.

The assailant was holding his nose, and that was when Sunghoon realized that he was bleeding.

He looked up at Sunghoon angrily, stumbling to his feet. "You broke my nose!"

Sunghoon shrugged. "You attack children. What about it?"

The assailant growled angrily, fumbling with the knife in his pocket as he charged toward Sunghoon.

Sunghoon sighed, rolling his eyes.

With the amount of media coverage Spider-Man got, he would expect people to understand by now that attacking him head-on was just impossible. Every single headline boasted about Spider-Man's super-human abilities, yet here people were, acting dumb as fuck.

Almost like Sunghoon could see movement in slow-motion, mere milliseconds before his assailant collided with him, he shot a web at the wall, flinging himself up to the wall.

"C'mon man," Sunghoon taunted. "You're faster than that."

Before the man could respond, Sunghoon swung down and kicked him in the abdomen. He tried to get back up and land a stab at Sunghoon, but alas, he was too slow.

"I'm serious," Sunghoon chuckled, but behind his mask he was completely blank-faced, nearly bored. "You need to be a little faster if you wanna catch up to me."

With one more kick to the stomach, the man was down for good. Sunghoon dialed the police, and with that, he left.

Because he had witnessed a child get mugged earlier, Sunghoon's first instinct was to check up on Riki's daycare.

Sure, Riki was basically a baby, but the thought of a child being attacked made Sunghoon a little worried for him.

In fact, the thought of Riki being in danger made Sunghoon worried about you. Should he go check up on your office too?

Sunghoon's sure that you've noticed by now, how increasingly nervous he got about your safety. At first, he tried to conceal it better, but it got harder as crime increased.

If Sunghoon had superhuman levels of hearing, his ability to identify your voice from miles away must have been god tier.

Sunghoon clung to the walls of your office building, pressing his chest against the hard brick in order to not be as obvious. Stealthily crawling against the wall, Sunghoon finally found the window right where your office was.

Peering inside, Sunghoon could see that you were talking with one of your colleagues. You were smiling, laughing from time to time. It must have been a friendly conversation.

Sunghoon pressed his ear against the wall, letting his enhanced hearing do the work for him.

"Do you have any plans this weekend?" your colleague asked, leaning on your desk.

You hummed, typing away and half-listening. "I'm spending time with my family."

Your colleague smiled. "You and Riki?"

You shook your head absent-mindedly. "Me, Riki, and Hoon."

Sunghoon cracked a grin.

"Oh? Who's Hoon?"

Your eyes flickered away from your computer screen. "Sunghoon? He's my...." you trailed off. What was Sunghoon to you?

"Your?" Your colleague looked at you expectantly, but when you bashfully smiled, she gasped. "Don’t tell me…”

"W-Well, I mean— He's a good friend—"

"Tsk, tsk, if he really was a good friend you wouldn't struggle so much to say that." Your colleague sat down. "Do you like him or something?"

"Of course I do. He's a good friend—"

"That's not what I meant."

You huffed.

Sunghoon held his breath

"I think I... love him?" you said it like a question, but you didn't look uncertain. The rest of your conversation was pretty plain, just exchanging pleasantries and chuckles about family life.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon was completely zoned out. A gunshot could fire right beside him and even then he wouldn't be fully conscious and in his body.

You?

Loved him?

Ohmygodyousaidthatyoulovedhim.

It was getting bad, how much those words affected him. Each time Sunghoon forced himself to recover mentally, your words would replay again in his head, making him squeeze his eyes shut and feel the heat rush back to his face. Sunghoon felt light-headed. If it weren't for the stickiness of his spiderwebs, Sunghoon would have fallen off the building by now.

Was he dreaming?

Sunghoon bit down on his lip to stop the dumb, dopey grin threatening to spill across his face, but alas, a simple glance at you through the window again had his heart jumping.

He felt like a high schooler, getting all giddy again as if no one has ever loved him before.

Well, it was true though. No one has ever loved him before, not in the way that you've loved him.

Maybe Sunghoon was right for being so protective of you over the past few weeks.

You couldn't even bring yourself to be mad at this point, rather just amazed beyond words at the goddamn audacity of these people.

"I don't have money," you said simply, rolling your eyes.

"Are you sure about that, lady?"

You huffed. "Yes, I'm a single mother. You think I'm rich?— Ow, okay sorry."

You were just minding your own business, walking to the subway and thinking about how much you hated your boss, when you were pulled into an alleyway. You were lucky (if this could be considered lucky at all) that you were just getting mugged, who knows what else could have happened?

It was a group of three men, two holding you back and the other trying to extort you of your money. Unfortunately for them, you didn't have any cash on you.

The cold brick wall pressed harshly into your back, hard enough that you nearly winced in pain, but you made sure to show no signs of discomfort or struggle. That would make you seem weak, and if you wanted any chance of getting out unscathed, you should probably avoid showing any vulnerability.

"I can PayPal you," you said simply, your gaze bored.

"We want cash, lady."

You huffed. "I already said, I don't have cash on me. Do you have ApplePay?"

The men groaned.

You had a simple plan: continue to play dumb and keep suggesting alternative payment options to distract them, and when the time came, you'd land a kick to the crotch and make a run for it. A lot of people liked to pool at the convenience stores and bakeries nearby, so it shouldn't be difficult to catch their attention.

"What about Venmo?" you asked, your tone purposefully squeaky and annoying. "Or Zelle? I have a lot of money on Zelle."

You blinked at them, feigning some semblance of naivety, watching in near-satisfaction at the way their faces distorted incredulously.

And just as the three men shot each other looks, trying to reconvene, you realized that maybe your bit off more than you could chew.

Maybe acting stupid wasn't the best idea, especially in the face of three people filled with the intent to rob you.

Slap!

Because the next thing you knew, your cheek was hot and prickling with pain, your eyes burning with tears from the sheer impact of that palm against your face.

Your jaw went slack in pure shock. Did they just—

Slap!

"Shut up, you bitch!"

Woah.

You opened your mouth to let out another witty response (which was probably already a bad idea to start with), but you're cut off when you're suddenly pushed all the way up against the hard brick wall. Your cheek was pressed against it; it was rough and cold.

Grubby hands patted you down, searching for any spare cash left in your pockets. You cringed as they searched through your long-discarded purse for the third time, only to find chapstick, lip gloss, and a bunch of cards.

"Come on, woman, you need to have some money on you!" you heard one of them mutter, the rancid smell of cigarettes filling your nose.

"I already said," you huffed, letting out a small yelp of pain as they shoved you against the wall again, your lip scraping against the rough brick. You tasted blood. "I don't have cash on me—"

They shoved you even harder this time, holding you by your head. Your entire cheek was pressed up against the wall, your eyes squeezing shut as pain shot through your head. Maybe you shouldn't have talked so much smack, because now you were feeling light-headed from the sheer impact.

You couldn't see what happened in the next few moments, but you were suddenly lifted in the air by strong arms, strong arms that almost felt familiar. You heard some yelling and shouting, and a few more sudden groans of pain.

It took you a few moments to realize that it was a certain blue and red superhero scooping you up, and it took you even longer to realize that it was this same hero that had gently placed you up on the ledge, before going back down to the alley to wreak havoc on those men.

It was horrific, the way that Spider-Man raised his fists, crashing them down on these men so hard that you could see the dark red blood stains seeping onto his spandex costume. The painful cries, the sound of Spider-Man's fists making contact with their bodies, it was all a terrible sound.

You watched silently, slack-jawed.

Spider-Man always had a more action-packed fighting style, utilizing his webs and arsenal of abilities and gadgets to make a spectacle of his fights (whether intentional or not).

Yet, here he was, using nothing but his bare hands to beat these men to a pulp.

It made your head hurt, everything. Even from the ledge high up, you could smell the must, blood, and sweat. It made you feel sick.

You could feel yourself lose all energy, deflating. You just wanted to go home, and feel your son and Sunghoon's warmth.

Riki, you thought as you watched in horror.

"Hoon," you whispered, barely audible even to yourself to the point that you didn't even realize that you said it.

Then, everything stopped, and suddenly you were up in the air again.

You mustered all the strength you had left in yourself to become aware of your surroundings. "Spider—"

"Don't talk."

So you didn't.

As you felt your mind cloud up, you could only think of a few things.

First, that your entire body had a subtle ache.

And second, that Spider-Man's voice sounded really familiar.

“Where were you? Why do you have a cut on your lip? Why were you out so late?” were the first words spilling out of Sunghoon’s mouth the moment you appeared in the doorway. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Why would you stay out when it’s dark—?”

You appreciated the concern, but you simply did not have it in you talk to him. You were exhausted, and even more mentally drained. You walk past him, ignoring Sunghoon's bombarding questions, completely oblivious to the way he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth, rubbing his bruised knuckles as his brows crashed together.

"Why aren't you answering me?" Sunghoon clutched your shoulder, his eyes filled with concern. You missed the ring of red around his eyes, too focused on your own bloody lips to see the even larger gash slowly healing on Sunghoon's cheek. His breath was heavy, almost like he'd been running around like crazy.

You let out an exasperated sigh, your tired eyes fluttering over to him. The events that transpired earlier were not a big deal to you, but it sure did suck the energy out of you.

Sunghoon cupped your cheek, taking your face into his hands. He studied your expression, brushing his finger against your cut lip. When you hissed at the sensation, Sunghoon sucked in a sharp breath, before his face pinched.

"This is why I told you not go out after dark—"

"Not right now, Sunghoon," you grumbled, pulling away from him. You let out another sigh. "I don't feel like having this conversation right now."

He reached out for you, but you turned on your heel, heading towards Riki's room.

"How's Riki?"

Sunghoon stared at you, before swiping his tongue over his lips. "I-I'm serious, [Name]. We can't keep having this conversation."

"Not right now," you repeated yourself, not even looking at him.

"No!" Sunghoon cried, his outburst making you stop and cock a brow at him. "We need this conversation now. Y-You— It's not safe anymore."

You narrowed your eyes at him.

"Just, don't go out anymore," he stumbled over his words, yet his face was solemn. "Please, just come home early. And if—And if you want to go out, I'll go with you."

Maybe it was because you were already having a bad day, or maybe you were just tired, but you felt anger begin to bubble inside of you.

These past few weeks, Sunghoon had been protective of you. It was endearing sometimes, but now it was getting ridiculous. You were capable of handling yourself, and if you weren't, that was your own responsibility to take care of, not his. You appreciated the concern, but not his visceral disapproval of any time you even decided to step outside.

"Sunghoon," you said calmly, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "I'm a grown woman. I can go outside by myself."

"No," he shook his head vehemently, taking your hands into his. "You don't get it. You don't know what's out there. It's not safe for you."

You tried your best. You really tried your hardest to swallow all the hot anger threatening to tumble out of your lips. You dug your nails into your palms, taking slow breaths as Sunghoon gave you a lengthy lecture about why you weren't prepared for the 'outside world' anymore.

It was difficult. You couldn't be angry that he cared about you, that he was so worried for your wellbeing. But as more words about how you couldn't possibly handle yourself outside were bleeding into your ears like shrill pots and pans to the point that it was unbearable to listen to.

"Am I weak to you, Sunghoon?" you finally interrupted him amidst his tangent.

"What? No, I—"

"Then why do you keep acting like I am?" No, you shouldn't be raising your voice at him like this, not when all he was doing was showing you how much he cared about you. Each word was calm, but you felt the venom seeping in with each syllable. "I'm tired of it all. I'm tired of how you act like I'm incapable of defending myself."

"But—"

"I don't want to hear it anymore," you grumbled, rubbing your temples and turning your back to him. "Please. I just want quiet right now."

The two of you stood in silence like that for a few pulses, the air tense— the most tense that the two of you have ever been.

The silence was broken when Sunghoon took in a deep breath, cracking the front door open, before stepping outside and quietly shutting it.

The entire apartment was deathly silent. With what remaining energy you had left, you retired to your room. The moment your back hit the mattress, your heavy eyelids shut.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon took a stroll along the apartment complex. The cool air kissed his cheek, running through his hair.

Was he wrong for worrying about you so much?

Should he have approached things differently?

How was he going to resolve this now?

Maybe Taehyun was right, that he was trying so hard to be a Prince Charming of sorts– your knight in Shining Armor.

It was never Sunghoon's intention to make you feel weak.

He was just scared. When he saw you in that alleyway, his blood ran cold, and all he could think about was protecting you.

The mere thought of you getting even more hurt than you already were frightened Sunghoon.

Sunghoon wasn't sure how long he spent outside, but it was long enough for his skin to feel cold to the touch.

After collecting himself, Sunghoon had a plan to resolve this bump along the road: he'd go inside, apologize, and explain himself clearly. Anxiety gnawed at him from the inside out, but he knew he had to make things right.

But as Sunghoon made his way back to your apartment door, taking in a deep breath before he reached for the door handle and rehearsing what he wanted to tell you in his head, something interrupted his thoughts.

First, it was the sound of glass breaking.

Then, the sound of Riki crying, and at last, your screaming.

And when Sunghoon busted down the front door, he found the entire house empty, save for the shattered glass window of your bedroom.

"Shhh, Baby don't cry," you shakily breathed, holding Riki close to your chest. "It's okay, it's okay— Shhh."

The last thing you expected was to be kidnapped by Spider-Man's number one opponent, the supervillain Giganto.

But here you were, tied up at the hands and feet, trying to hush Riki’s wailing. You’re not sure where Giganto took you, but it looks like the local ice rink. The humming of the ice rink filled your ears, the icy frost beginning to rise in the facilities kissing your skin.

It all happened so quickly that you could barely remember how you got here. The hair on your hands was standing up, a chill running down your spine. The entire facility felt empty, only the sound of your breathing and Riki's crying reverberating off the walls, but you knew better. Giganto took you here, so he must be nearby. You didn't even know why he wanted you to begin with, but now you had to deal with the reality of it.

You thought back to Sunghoon.

Wasn't this what he was warning you about? Why did you have to be influenced by your feelings like that? If you just listened to him and acted maturely, this could have been avoided... right?

You couldn't imagine how he felt now. He was just trying to protect you, and you just threw it back into his face. This was the second time that you were shitty to Sunghoon; how could you say that you loved him when all you did was be an asshole to him?

You would wallow in self-pity, but you had Riki to protect now.

Your eyes flickered around the dark and empty facility. Any moment now, Giganto could appear and kill you, or something.

You didn't know much about Giganto, other than that he had the ability to change sizes. That is, he could become very large or very small in an instant.

"Riki, breathe baby," you huffed, hoping that the fast beating of your heart would slow down soon enough for you to think straight. You swallowed the lump in your throat. For the first time ever, you wished that Spider-Man would come and save you from this maniac.

"Well, hello there."

Speak of the devil.

From the shadows emerged a man. He was in a skin-tight suit, with a mask hiding everything but his eyes and mouth, similar to Spider-Man. What made him stand out was the gadget in his hand. It was a gun-like gadget of some sort, glowing bright green.

You narrowed your eyes at him as goosebumps rose on your arms.

"Giganto," you questioned, your voice hoarse from screaming earlier, "Why did you take me here?"

The supervillain grinned, taking his time as he promenaded around the rink. Was he wearing ice-skates? How pompous.

"Is it that hard to figure out?" Giganto mused, his fingers running along the edge of his gadget. "Why don't you take a guess?"

You had no answer. The only thing that made sense was that you were a civilian and a resident of this city. What other connection to Giganto did you have other than that?

You stayed silent, holding Riki even closer to your chest as you realized that Giganto was walking— err, skating?— towards you. Your shoulders tensed, trying to pull your curled up legs to your chest.

"Relax, woman," the villain huffed. That's when you realized that he wasn't just holding that gadget, but various other... cones? They looked like those tiny plastic traffic cones at Riki's daycare. Giganto began to place them adjacent to you. "I'm just setting up for a game."

A game?

Just when you thought that Giganto probably forgot about your earlier question, he skated back to where he was previously.

"So, you have a guess yet?"

You would have said something witty, but you remembered what happened last time you tried to use your words to get out of something.

It was distracting you, the way that Giganto was paying extra attention to the gadget in his hands, brandishing it and shining the thing like it was a jewel.

And it seemed that he noticed this too.

“Oh this?” the villain threw his head back, letting out a laugh, a laugh that you knew too well to be fake because hey, working in an office with shitty coworkers and an even shittier boss made you receptive to it. “It’s just what I call a Size-inator!”

He let out another string of cartoonishly villainous laugh, nearly comical how enunciated it was. It was so ridiculous that Riki stopped crying, sending you a confused look. And when all you did was stare at him like he was a maniac, Giganto stopped laughing.

“Isn’t this impressive?” Giganto threw his hands up in the air. “Gee, you people are never satisfied.”

You nodded slowly. He looked so excited about this Size-inator, almost like he was just waiting for you to ask about it. You wouldn’t mind doing some talking. After all, it could buy you time and information.

“Right…” you nodded slowly. “So this Size-ometer-"

“Size-inator,” he corrected you.

“Yeah, yeah, this Size-er,” you waved him off, “What does it do?”

"Thought you'd never ask!" Giganto threw his hands up into the air theatrically. He snapped his fingers, and in an instant, all the lights turned off in the ice rink, only a spotlight shining over the villain. "The Size-inator is a device designed by moi. I can shoot whatever I want— he pointed the gadget to one of the cones he placed down, pulling the trigger. In an instant, the cone shrunk— "And it will change in size!"

"Pretty neat, isn't it?" he looked at you slyly.

You nodded slowly. "So it's a shrink ray, basically."

"Nuh-uh!" Giganto's outburst made you cock a brow at him. "It's a Size-inator!"

"Right."

"So... Where's Spider-Man?" Giganto asked, teetering on his ice-skates like a teenage girl waiting on her crush.

Your face scrunched.

Um.

How were you supposed to know?

"Uh, I don't know?" you said, your tone questioning your own certainty.

Giganto's face morphed into an incredulous one. He pointed an accusatory finger at you. "Don't lie to me, woman!"

You shook your head, shrugging vehemently. "I really don't!"

Giganto skated up to you, his ice-skates scraping up against the ice to make a shrill sound. He peered down at you, his eyes suspicious even through the mask.

"So you mean to tell me that you've coming home to the same apartment as Sungjoon Park everyday and you didn't know that he's Spider-Man?" the villain eyed you suspiciously.

Sungjoon Park?

"What are you talking about? I only know a Sunghoon Park—"

At the sound of Sunghoon's name, Riki stirred.

"Papa!" he exclaimed, wriggling in your hold.

"Yeah, yeah, Sunghoon Park, or whatever," Giganto waved off. "You didn't know that he's Spider-Man this entire time?—" he pointed at Riki— "You have a child with him!"

Crash!

Before you could even process things, a massive crash rang throughout the entire facility, followed by the sound of car sirens going off and glass breaking.

"Oh! Gotta goooo!" Giganto sped away, summoning his other little gadgets, presumably to go check up on the commotion outside. "Don't you dare try to escape, woman! I'm always watching!"

And then you were left alone again, in the middle of a cold ice rink.

Tap, tap.

Sunghoon?

Spider-Man?

Tap, tap.

You knew that Giganto was a maniac, but you didn't know that he was that insane.

Tap, tap.

That wouldn't make any sense.

Sunghoon might be associated with him somehow, but your own best friend as the Spider-Man?

No way.

Tap, tap.

And now that Giganto was gone—

Tap, tap.

That tapping sound was going to drive you crazy—!

"Pssst!"

You shot your head around. No one was there.

You looked in the other direction, then all around you. No one was there either.

"Look up here!"

You whipped your head up to the ceiling, where a massive opening had been created from the rubble. And lo and behold, there hung the one and only friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

"C'mon, [Name]," he said, reaching out a hand to you, "Take my hand and we'll escape."

Your eyes widened into saucers, bulging out of your head. You swore that you've heard that voice before, and as you flashed through all of your memories, you could never recall an instance where Spider-Man's voice matched with that of Spider-Man. Instead, all the memories lined up with Sungh—

"Papa!" Riki cried.

That's something that you could never wrap your head around. Riki seemed to call only Sunghoon papa. Yet, he's been calling Spider-Man papa, too.

You kept your eyes trained on the hero's wide, white eyes, your mind running on its own while your mouth moved.

"I-I'm tied up, Spider-Man," you stammered.

A familiar voice, papa, a weird obsession with crime and safety, it all didn't make sense.

Spider-Man dropped down from the ceiling, carefully untying the ropes wrapped around your hands and feet.

"Are you okay?" the hero asked, helping you stand up with wobbly feet. To your surprise, Spider-Man clutched your chin, forcing you to look at him. In his other hand, he held Riki, to which Riki began snuggling up against his chest. And then, worried words streamed from his lips, in a tone that you knew all too well. "Did he do anything to you? Are you hurt? Can you stand?—"

For a split second, you thought you were going crazy.

For a split second, his voice sounded exactly like Sunghoon's: with the same breathiness, the same cadence, and of course, the same exact concern that made your heart melt.

For a split second, you could almost see Sunghoon's thick eyebrows furrowing behind the mask, worry strewn all across his expression.

"Sunghoon?"

Spider-Man froze, going frigid all the while Riki continued to nuzzle his face in his strong chest.

Behind the mask, you could see almost exactly how Sunghoon would bite down on his tongue, his lips parting while his eyes flashed around the room; his nervous tick.

"Sunghoon," you whispered again, this time with a type of desperation that you never knew you had. You could feel your chest pounding, the sound of your heart thrumming against your ribcage filling your ears. "Sunghoon, please."

Please tell me it's you.

Slowly, you reached up to cup Spider-Man's face, and to your surprise, the hero leaned into your touch.

"[Name]," Spider-Man whispered shakily, so low that you could barely hear it.

Hearing it roll off his tongue, that confirmed everything that you needed to know.

Everything crashed down on your shoulders at once. You felt all types of emotions—confusion, anger, surprise, shock— but all of them fell short in the face of the overwhelming urge to throw your arms around his shoulders and feel his warmth.

But before you could, another crash rang through the facility.

And there, standing at the doorway was Giganto, in all his spandex glory pointing his Size-inator right at you and Sunghoon.

"Don't you dare move!" his voice boomed.

"S-Sungh—" you felt a panic course through your veins. But, that panic was replaced by the feeling of strong hands around your waist.

"Don't worry," Sunghoon breathed against the shell of your ear. You could hear the grin in his voice. "I got this."

But before you could, another crash rang through the facility.

And there, standing at the doorway was Giganto, in all his spandex glory pointing his Size-inator right at you and Sunghoon.

"Don't you dare move!" his voice boomed.

"S-Sungh—" you felt a panic course through your veins. But, that panic was replaced by the feeling of strong hands around your waist.

"Don't worry," Sunghoon breathed against the shell of your ear. You could hear the grin in his voice. "I got this."

Sunghoon shot a web back up at the ceiling where the opening was.

Giganto loaded his shrink ray, and in that moment, you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for what was to come.

Yet, instead of feeling yourself shrink into oblivion, you felt your entire body lift up into the air, before being hoisted back to your feet.

"You don't trust me?" Sunghoon grinned into your ear, his hands still wrapped tightly around you.

You opened your eyes slowly. You were on a rooftop.

"Woah..."

With Riki back in your arms, you looked down to see the vast cityscape below your feet. The dark blue night sky was peppered with white splotches of stars and satellites. The lights were beautiful, so beautiful that you couldn't tear your eyes away from it.

The feeling of Sunghoon's warmth behind you, as well as Riki's little giggles, made you melt.

"W-Where are we?" you asked, your eyes still glued to the view.

"Far," Sunghoon breathed against your ear. Then, he pulled away from you, gently guiding you to a ledge in the inner perimeter of the rooftop. "Far from Giganto."

And as he began to slink away, your eyes widened, reaching out to him instinctively. "Where are you going?"

Sunghoon turned around. He ruffled Riki's hair, then brushed his gloved finger against your cheek.

"I need to go fight Giganto," he said simply.

Before you could protest, Sunghoon clutched your chin, making you look at him.

"Well, you said that Spider-Man was useless," you could hear him grin behind the mask. "This is my one time to impress you. I'll beat him up really good, I promise."

His tone was light-hearted, trying to make you smile, yet you only chewed on your lip, looking on hesitantly.

"I'll be safe," Sunghoon reassured you, leaning in closer to you.

You looked at him with clouded eyes. "Are you sure? What if you get hurt?"

It was funny, how the roles were now reversed: now, it was you worrying about his safety.

"I'm strong," Sunghoon chuckled, flexing his bicep. "The strongest."

You still looked apprehensive, so Sunghoon leaned in even closer, cupping your cheek.

"Don't worry about me," he said lowly, his hands holding you like you were a delicate piece of glass.

You swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, sucking in a sharp breath. You nodded your head, almost as if you were trying to convince yourself, before meeting his eyes.

The two of you stared into each other's eyes like that for a few pulses, getting lost in the comfort of each other, a momentary escape from reality.

And then, letting all of your inhibitions run free, you grabbed Sunghoon's masked face, and pressed a right where his lips were. You pulled away quickly, but this time, you had a determined look on your face.

Sunghoon stood there frozen, suddenly dazed as he brought a hand up to cover his mouth, flustered.

"Well?" you grumbled, averting your gaze. "What are you waiting for? Go impress me, Spider-Man."

Sunghoon never turned on his heel and began swinging away any faster.

Sunghoon flushed as he heard you giggling from the other room.

He hated the media, he hated it so much.

But, he had to admit, he was grateful for all the news outlets this one time.

Because truth be told, they caught some pretty badass shots of him kicking Giganto's ass.

Not because Sunghoon personally wanted cool pictures of himself, but because now you and Riki were rewatching clips of the fight in the other room. Riki giggled, exclaiming every other second and clapping his hands cutely, while you cooed not just at his cuteness, but at the way Sunghoon's muscles flexed in each shot.

He had to admit, the camerawork made the fight look a lot more intense than it actually was.

What actually went down was pretty simple.

Giganto made Sunghoon play a game of some sorts, some supervillain version of laser-tag. Sunghoon was going to be in ice-skates, and he was going to have to evade Giganto's Size-inator. The villain chose ice-skating because apparently it was way harder to move around in ice-skates than not. However, he completely forgot two very important facts.

The first one was that Spider-Man was... Well, Spider-Man. Sunghoon's abilities were heightened to the max, so his reflexes and physical capabilities transcended whatever man-made gadget Giganto had.

The second one was that Sunghoon was kickass at ice-skating, all thanks to the many times that he'd gone with you and Riki. There was something about showing off how good he was in front of you, the literal love of his life, that shaped Sunghoon into the absolute pro at ice-skating that he was now.

It's safe to say, Giganto's defeat was pathetic. He was arrested, and his identity was revealed to be some corporate slave trying to reach stardom through criminal activities.

Sunghoon had to force himself to take deep breaths, stifling the stupid grin threatening to spread on his face as he heard you and Riki's giggles.

"Are you guys ready to go?" he poked his head in through the doorway. "Oh wow."

There you were, wearing a pretty dress that hugged your body a little too well. Sunghoon's jaw went slack as his eyes glazed over your figure, gulping audibly as you made your way over to him.

"Hey there, Handsome," you purred, sliding your hands up his chest.

"Hi." No matter how long he's known you, how many times he's seen you in a figure-hugging dress, how many times you've kissed him until he saw stars, Sunghoon felt like putty in your presence.

"I love you in this color," you mused. You were definitely doing it on purpose, running your nails against his arm and getting all touchy.

Sunghoon's mouth felt dry. Was it getting hot it here, or was it just him? "Th-Thank you."

Linking fingers with Sunghoon, you pushed your chest forward and up against his chest.

"You know," you breathed against his neck. You smelled so good, your scent filled Sunghoon's head deliciously. "I've been waiting for tonight all week."

Sunghoon's palms were getting sweaty, goosebumps rising on his skin and the hairs on his neck standing up. "R-Really?"

"Of course," you cooed, before pulling away. You did a little twirl for him, showing off your dress.

"I'm ready," you smiled, your glossy lips moving in a way that made Sunghoon feel light-headed. You looked delicately over your shoulder, bursting out laughing. When Sunghoon peered over your shoulder, he also couldn't help but let chuckles fall from his lips.

"Riki, baby, what are you doing?!"

Riki was dressed up, but poor baby must have been tired, as he was all curled up against the floor, dozing off like nothing else mattered.

Tonight was a family night.

The plan was to go out for dinner as a family, and after, go home and watch a movie. It was a simple plan, but a plan that made Sunghoon all giddy with excitement. Riki wailed a little bit when you two woke him up, but just seeing you and Sunghoon's face made him peaceful in an instant.

Hand-in-hand, you, Sunghoon, and Riki walked off into the night.

And Sunghoon thought, there isn't anything else in the world that he could ask for.

Not when he was able to spend the rest of his life with his little family.

Not when he was head over heels in love with you.

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #sunghoon #park sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon enhypen #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fic #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon imagines #star-sim #vanya-writes

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punkshort · 10 months

Text

i'll be home for christmas | part one

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, reader has a childhood nickname only her family uses, Hallmark tropes up the wazoo, soft!joel, reader's sister is pregnant, talks of infidelity, talks of divorce, alcohol use, kissing, (smut in part two)

WC: 9.1K

A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you. I also wrote this in less than 2 days and didn't really edit it much, so sorry in advance if there's any errors.

Found the pic on Twitter but can't remember the source, if you know please send me a message and i will credit them

Series Masterlist

It was the second week of December as you stood inside the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting for your luggage to emerge on the conveyor belt. You thought by coming home early, you would have avoided the holiday traffic, but you were wrong. All around you, people squealed with excitement and embraced, dragging their worn out luggage behind them as they made their way out of the bustling airport. You tried to keep the scowl from your face as you watched, but it was next to impossible, so you wrapped your Burberry scarf around your neck instead, hoping to hide your displeasure.

This was not the plan you had for Christmas. You should be in New York in a high-rise apartment in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass of wine and your fiancé - ex-fiancé - not back in Austin with your parents, who begged you to come visit for the holidays after you told them the news.

Coming home to visit wasn't your favorite thing, but you felt guilty having avoided the holidays with your family for so many years, and you would have ended up all alone in the city anyway. So you caved, using up all the PTO you saved for the wedding, and took the rest of the year off from work.

Your designer luggage stood out like a sore thumb when it tumbled down the conveyor belt. You winced after watching the impact and snatched it up quickly. Glancing around, you saw a beacon in the storm: a familiar green, glowing sign in the distance - Starbucks. The line was long, but your flight was early, so you waited and got a latte, hoping it would lift your spirits a bit before you had to face your parents.

You tapped the side of your coffee cup anxiously as you rode the escalator down to the first floor, scanning the crowd for your mom and dad. There were a few people holding up signs with names on them, and when you saw the sign that said "Bucket" on it, you cringed.

Your dad's tall, round frame came into view when the people in front of him dispersed. He looked almost exactly the same, except a little greyer. Still sporting a shockingly full head of hair and his signature thick mustache, he grinned and pulled you into a warm hug.

"Really, Dad? 'Bucket'?"

"Well, that's what we call you, ain't it?" he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and tried to be annoyed, but you had to admit that you were happy to see him.

"Where's Mom?" you asked.

"She's waitin' in the car, didn't wanna pay for parking so we're in a pick up zone, let's hustle," he said, wrapping his arm around you as he led you outside. "How was the flight?"

"Long," you said, then gasped when the cold air hit you. "Wow, I didn't think it would be this cold yet."

"It's been a cold one so far this year," he nodded, directing you to the left where you could see your mom smiling and waving from the passenger seat of their white SUV. You waved back and grinned. Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

"Hiya, Bucky!" your mom said happily, leaning out of the window to give you a half hug while your dad loaded up your belongings in the back.

"Hey, Mom," you replied. "I like your sweater."

She was wearing one of her tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore every year - unironically. It amazed you how some things never change.

You climbed into the back seat as your dad carefully exited the parking spot and joined the line of cars that were slowly inching towards the main road.

"We're so glad you decided to come home this year, you can finally see the new house!" your mom said excitedly. They had built a brand new house, and the way she provided updates and pictures to you over the phone for the past year, you felt like you had already seen it.

"Yeah, can't wait," you said, staring out the window.

"Hope you don't mind, but we're throwin' a party tomorrow night," your dad said, glancing at you in the review mirror. "Wanted to have our friends over to see the place and have an early holiday party. They'll be so happy to see you, it's been so long since you've been home, Buck."

You had been hoping to spend most of the next three weeks in bed moping and scrolling on your phone. The thought of a party and seeing all those people looking at you with pity made your stomach turn. Your mom must have sensed your discomfort.

"It's alright, honey. They won't say anything," she said softly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Okay," you replied, your voice pained as you opened your eyes to stare at the passing traffic on the thruway.

You'll make an appearance for an hour, and then try to sneak back upstairs until the party ends, already fabricating a headache to blame it on.

The house your parents built was impressive, even you had to admit. It was a two story colonial with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The open floor plan was stunning as you made your way from room to room. The first floor alone had a spacious living room with vaulted ceilings, a kitchen with an attached dining room, and a separate family room off the back. There was even a small office by the front door that you missed the first time around, and a pantry as big as your closet back home.

You cringed at the thought, reminding yourself that it was no longer your home. That was part of the problem. You had moved in with Will, and when you discovered he had been cheating on you, you crashed at your friend Melanie's place. When you tearfully told your parents the news a few days later, they asked you to come home. Just for the holidays, your mom had said. Just to give you time to figure out your next move.

"This is beautiful, Mom," you said honestly, admiring the fine details on the cabinets.

"Thank you, sweetie. Took a long time, but Joel built it just right for us," she said, beaming.

"Oh, the contractor, right?" you replied, distracted now by the backsplash above the counters.

"He's such a sweet man, he was so patient with us when we changed our minds a million times over every little thing."

"Well, tell him he did a great job," you murmured, opening and shutting different drawers.

"You can tell him yourself, he'll be at the party tomorrow," your dad said, opening the fridge to scrounge for some snacks.

"You invited your contractor to your holiday party?" you asked in disbelief.

"Sure we did. We either saw him or spoke to him almost every single day for a year. He's a good man."

"Okay," you said slowly, still finding it a bit strange, but reminding yourself that things worked a little differently in the south.

"Bucket!" you heard your sister call from the front of the house. A smile plastered across your face instantly as you rushed to the door, both of you squealing as you wrapped your arms around each other and jumped in a circle, unable to contain your excitement.

"Cassie!" you said, pulling back to look at her, brushing her sleek, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You look fantastic!"

"Ugh, I feel like shit," she said, and you laughed, glancing down at her barely swollen belly.

"How far along are you again?" you asked.

"Twenty weeks, but I'm ready for this to be over! I'm so tired all the time, it sucks," she said, flopping down on the couch in the living room after she gave your parents quick hugs.

"Where's Josh?" your mom asked, referring to your brother in law.

"He's still working, he'll be by later," Cassie said, waving her hand. "Gives us a chance to catch up," she added with a wink.

"You girls do that, we need to go to the store for tomorrow night. Do you need anything?" your mom asked, and you shook your head, eager for them to leave so you could be alone with your sister.

"Tell me everything," Cassie said the moment the door clicked shut.

If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have been in the mood to talk about the mess that was currently your life, but you've always been able to talk about anything with your sister. You trusted each other implicitly and there was no judgement, no matter if you had cheated on a test or gotten drunk during prom, you told each other everything.

So you did. You told her how for months, you felt like something was off with Will. How he would stay out late and say it was for work, but none of his work friends ever posted about going anywhere those nights on social media. He grew more distant and you tried to ignore your paranoia, but when he collapsed into bed one night, too out of it to wash up, and you saw the lipstick on his neck the next morning, you lost it. He hardly even tried to explain himself, barely even attempted to lie, and you began to think maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted you to do the dirty work and end things so he didn't have to. Fucking coward.

"What a piece of shit. I never liked him," Cassie said when you were finished. "He acted like he was so much better than everyone when he was here, do you remember the comments he made about the wine mom had? It was so fucking rude."

"Yeah, I know," you agreed.

"So why were you even with him?"

"We had been together since college, Cas," you said, exasperated. "I knew him before he was like that. He used to be sweet and fun. Then he got that finance job and met all those assholes and he became just like them."

"Well, I'm just glad you didn't end up married before finding out what he's really like," she said, shifting her weight on the couch with her hand cupping her small stomach. "That would have been a huge mess."

"It's still a huge mess, I have no where to live now, and I can only couch surf for so long," you said, burying your face in your hands.

"You'll figure it out, Buck. I'll help you look for places online while you're here. Maybe set up some appointments so you can tour them when you get back."

"Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. "That would actually be great."

"Now, on to more important things," your sister said, slapping her palms against her knees to stand.

"Baby names?" you asked.

"No! Let's figure out what you'll wear to the party tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I wanna look through all your fancy designer clothes."

You giggled and stood to join her.

"Fine, but I'm still dropping baby names while you look," you replied.

After spending a majority of the next day helping your parents decorate and prepare food for the party, you finally were able to excuse yourself to shower and get ready. Cassie had picked out a Ralph Lauren lace cocktail dress that Will had bought for your birthday last year. You slipped it on, running your hands over the fabric as you adjusted the dress in the mirror. Just because he bought it didn't mean you couldn't wear it again. You snatched the glass of wine from your dresser and took a sip, trying to push the thought of him from your head as you made your way downstairs.

Cassie and Josh were already in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and chatting with your parents. Cassie let out a low whistle when you entered the room. You waved her off and gave Josh a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Good to see you," you told him with a smile. "All ready for the baby?"

"Getting there," Josh replied, wrapping an arm around Cassie's waist. You tried to ignore the ugly, jealous pit in your stomach as he told you how the nursery was coming along. You wasted so many years of your life on Will. Your sister was already married and starting a family, and here you were, basically homeless and starting over. Pathetic.

Family friends slowly began to trickle into the house, luckily being whisked away by your parents to give them a tour after you meekly greeted them and hid back in the kitchen. As more and more people arrived, you began to wonder how your parents kept so many close friends when you barely had a handful back in New York.

A few kids raced by you in the kitchen as you made your way to the bar to refill your wine. Even though it was loud, you could still hear your dad's booming voice as he regaled a friend with a fishing story. You wandered around a bit, trying to find Cassie and Josh so you didn't look out of place, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them chatting with Mr. Tanner and his son, Troy, backing away before they could see you. Troy used to have the biggest crush on you when you were kids. If he found out you were single, you wouldn't be able to shake him all night.

You eventually found yourself alone, back in front of the snacks. You picked at the chips on your plate, not really interested in eating but hoping to avoid any awkward conversations, so you kept your eyes down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Apparently, it wasn't good enough because you felt someone sidle up next to you.

"Those any good?" a deep, unfamiliar drawl spoke from your side. You looked up to find the softest pair of brown eyes you've ever seen on a man. Blinking, you took a moment as your gaze raked over his patchy beard and the dark, tousled curls on his head. They looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. What was wrong with you?

"Huh?" you managed to squeak out after you realized you had waited too long to reply. Idiot.

"The, uh, chips," he said, pointing at your plate before rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh!" you said, looking at your plate, completely forgetting you even had it. "Yeah, they're alright."

He nodded and glanced around the room, unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"How do you know Paul and Martha?"

Distracted, you watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his red flannel over his shoulders, pulling the material taught. You had to remind yourself to pay attention and stop gawking at this man like he was a piece of meat. Jesus, maybe you should stop drinking.

"They're my parents," you said after a moment, your eyes flicking across the room, finding them with a group of their friends with your dad's arm wrapped around your mom's shoulder as she giggled and gazed up at him adoringly.

"Oh, you're Cassie," the man said, his eyes dropping from your face to your stomach, and you swore you saw a glimmer of disappointment.

"No!" you said quickly, your hand subconsciously resting on your midsection. "That's my sister, I'm their other daughter." You told him your name and briefly explained you lived in New York and were just visiting for the holidays.

"They must be real happy, havin' you home for so long," he replied, and you shrugged.

"Yeah, it's been a while since I've come home for a visit. I was feeling pretty bad about that," you said, choosing to leave out the biggest reason you were there. This stranger didn't need to be burdened with your love life drama. "Besides, they were so excited to show off the new house," you continued, waving your arm around the room.

"Took us long enough, but it finally came together," he replied with a smile.

"Oh! You must be Joel," you said, realization finally dawning on you.

"Yeah, sorry," he said, shaking his head and stretching out his arm. "That was rude of me, don't know what I was thinkin'." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand.

"My parents always have such wonderful things to say about you. The house is beautiful, I was blown away when I first saw it," you told him. "I especially love the little details on the cabinets."

"Thanks," he said with a soft smile, averting his gaze to look at the cabinet behind you. "I actually did that myself. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Closest to art I'll ever get, I guess."

"I don't think it's just 'close' to art, I think it is art. It's stunning," you told him, running your fingertips over the intricate floral design. "You're very talented."

"Well, thank you," he said sheepishly, rubbing his beard to hide his smile. You could see the blush creeping up his neck and you bit your lip with a grin, turning your head to try to give him a moment. Were you making him nervous? He was painfully good looking, could this guy actually be into you? Were you even interested? The break up was still so fresh and it had been so long since you've dated anyone besides Will, you hadn't even considered it yet.

"So, how long have you worked in construction?" you asked after a minute, discarding your plate on the counter to give him your full attention.

"Oh, my whole life. Me and my brother started the business when we were in our twenties. Only thing we were any good at, and luckily it pays the bills," he told you with a shrug, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you-"

Joel's question was cut off by a young girl with curly brown hair in a red velvet dress bouncing up to him.

"Dad! Can Uncle Tommy take me outside so we can look at the pool?" she asked. Dad? You looked down when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, palming one of the girl's shoulders to quiet her down, and noticed the gold wedding band. Of fucking course.

"The pool? Sarah, it's freezin' out," Joel said, and she grinned.

"I'm not going in, Dad, I just wanna see," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over, noticing you for the first time, and smiled. "I really like your dress," she said.

"Thank you," you said, running your hand down the fabric. "I like yours, too."

"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Just make sure Uncle Tommy sticks with you, alright?" Joel relented, and she clapped her hands gleefully before running off again.

"She's cute, how old is she?" you asked him, looking around the room to see if Sarah had run back to a woman who could be Joel's wife.

"She's sixteen," he said, eyeing you carefully. He hadn't thought this far ahead and hoped he wasn't scaring you off.

You turned to him, startled, having guessed she was younger.

"You must have had her young," you said, the words slipping out before you could catch them. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded-"

"No, it's alright," he said with a chuckle. "I did. I'm forty."

You nodded and took a sip from your glass, letting your eyes drift away, rethinking your conversation. Maybe you misread him and he was just being friendly. There was no way he would be flirting with you at a party with his kid right there. But then he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

"Listen, I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but are you here with anyone?"

You raised your eyebrows at him over your glass. There was no misreading that. Blinking rapidly, you tried to formulate a reply that wouldn't cause a scene. Was he seriously hitting on you with a ring on his finger? You put your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to reply when your sister's voice interrupted you.

"Bucket! Come here, you remember Troy, right?"

You cringed, at both the nickname and the person in question, before slowly turning your body towards her and forcing a fake smile.

"Of course. How are you?" you said with a hug.

"Doing great, just got a new job with a law firm downtown," Troy said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifting his weight nervously. He began to ramble about his new job as your sister introduced herself to Joel behind you. You resisted the urge to strangle her, reminding yourself she was carrying your baby niece or nephew and that you'll have to wait until after she gave birth to kill her. She knew you couldn't stand Troy, but she probably couldn't get rid of him, either.

You stood there, draining your wine glass while he prattled on for the next twenty minutes. By the time Troy's dad walked over and ushered him away, Joel was nowhere to be found.

Probably for the best, anyway. You were getting really sick and tired of only attracting unfaithful men.

You hadn't considered how annoying it would be to have your parents hovering around you all the time, worried that you were slipping into a depression and trying to get you to join them on activities outside the house. After you felt forced to go sledding with them the day before, you decided to make yourself scarce today, which is why you found yourself at the mall in downtown Austin browsing for a Christmas gift for your future niece or nephew.

As you were looking through a storefront window, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw a text from a friend back home.

Sydney: You'll never guess who i just bumped into

You were typing out your response, chin tucked into your chest, when you felt someone knock into you. Startled, you looked up only to lock eyes with Joel the contractor.

"Oh!" you managed to stammer out. His deep brown eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face when he looked up and recognized you.

"Sorry, wasn't payin' attention," he said. "How, uh, how are you?"

"Good," you said, nodding and clutching your phone in your hand. "You?"

"Good. Was actually just thinkin' about you," he admitted, looking down and shifting the bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. "Never got to say goodbye to you the other night."

"Yeah, it was pretty crowded. I didn't realize my parents were so popular," you joked. "Is Sarah with you?"

"No, she's in school," he replied, and you bumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, rolling your eyes. Of course she was, it's the middle of the day.

"Duh," you said quietly, finding it hard to hold his gaze without getting butterflies, so you looked away.

"So, uh, I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I asked your sister if you were seein' anyone the other night," he began, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Why didn't Cassie warn you?? "-was wonderin' if I could get your number."

"Huh?" you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to control your breathing. You glanced down at his hand again when he looked away and saw he was definitely wearing a ring.

"Thought we could go out sometime? If you're interested?" he asked, his own nerves wreaking havoc as he shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Are you serious?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes. The audacity of some men!

"'Course I'm serious," he said with a nervous smile. "Thought we hit it off the other night-"

"Joel, listen. I'm not going to say what I'm really thinking for the sake of my parents and everything you did for them, but I am not interested in dating married men," you said with a scowl. He frowned, giving you a confused look before you turned on your heel and stormed away, joining the crowd of Christmas shoppers bustling by.

He looked down at his hand, making a tight fist before swiveling his head around, trying to locate you in the crowd before he lost you.

"Hey, wait!" he called out, pushing past clusters of people as he jogged to try and keep up with you. He called out your name as he got closer. You stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, causing surprised shoppers to have to redirect at the last minute to avoid running into you.

"Hey, I'm sorry-"

"You should apologize to your wife!" you said loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads in your direction as they walked past. Joel looked around nervously.

"I'm not married," he clarified quietly. You looked down at his hand again and he flexed his fingers.

"Can we get a coffee or somethin'? And I'll explain," he begged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each second that passed as you considered your answer. "Please."

"Fine," you agreed, and his face relaxed once again.

You sat down at a coffee shop within Barnes and Noble as Joel ordered you both something to drink. As you watched him at the counter, you admired his long legs and broad shoulders underneath his brown coat and wondered what possible excuse he was going to come up with.

Oh my god, what if she died?

You rubbed your eyes, hoping you didn't just insult a widower in the middle of a crowded mall.

Joel joined you at the table and set your coffee down in front of you with a smile.

"Thank you," you said softly, fiddling with the cup and avoiding his eyes as he shrugged his coat off, revealing a navy blue V-neck sweater underneath. Your eyes drifted to the small patch of bare chest that was exposed and your stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, but he was staring down at his ring finger.

"I'm not married anymore, just wanna make that crystal clear," he began, still staring at his ring.

"Okay," you said slowly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed.

"We've been divorced for a few years now," he said, finally looking at you. "It was... hard. Really hard. I, uh," he scratched his beard as he struggled to find the words. "I've had a tough time lettin' go. Thought for a while we might get back together, so I didn't take it off. Then I guess I just got so used to it, I never thought... I'm sorry, I sound like a mess," he said with a sad smile.

"It's alright, I think I understand," you told him, and he looked at you with renewed optimism, encouraged to continue.

"I never took it off because I never thought 'bout askin' anyone out til now," he said. "Didn't realize how that would come across, you just took me by surprise that night and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

You blushed and looked down at your coffee, trying to hide your smile behind your cup, but he saw it and grinned.

"Are you still in love with her?" you asked him. You didn't want to get wrapped up in something that would end up hurting you in the end.

"No," he said firmly. "I mean, I'll always care for her. She gave me Sarah, how could I not? But I'm not in love with her anymore."

You nodded as you absorbed his words, glancing around the little coffee shop before dragging your eyes back to his. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask anything else that would make you comfortable with accepting a date from him.

"Well, thank you for being honest with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet."

Joel tried to hide the disappointment in his face as he nodded in understanding. The first time in five years he asked someone out and he got shot down.

"It's not you," you clarified. "It's bad timing. I just got out of a really long term relationship. Well, I was actually engaged, and I caught him cheating," you explained with a wince, not expecting to bring this up today. "Probably why I was so sensitive about the wedding ring," you said with a half smirk. He nodded quietly and looked down at the ring on his hand, twisting the metal around with the pad of his thumb as you spoke.

"Sounds like we've both been through a tough time," he murmured, and you quietly agreed.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffees and trying to figure out how to end this awkward interaction without making things worse. You were going to lie about having plans so you could leave when he suddenly spoke up.

"No pressure, but, uh, what if we just went on one very casual date?" He looked at you with those soft, brown eyes and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Sounds like we could both use some practice. You're leavin' at the end of the month anyway. Could just be fun, help get us both back out there."

You paused, not expecting that. He had a good point. It's been so long since you've gone on a date with anyone, and it sounded like he was just as rusty. Besides, what else would you be doing with your time over the next three weeks?

"Okay," you agreed softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, parting his lips slightly as he straightened up in his chair.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said with a grin. "Why not?"

Early the next morning, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand next to your bed. With a groan, you cracked an eye open to look at the time, then reached for your phone.

"7:30? Who the hell..." you grumbled, squinting at the bright screen, your eyes widening when you saw Joel's name. You sat up in bed, fully awake now, and slid the notification over to open the text.

Joel Miller: Morning. Are you free tonight?

You grinned, flicking on your light so you could see better to respond, then you paused. Should you make him wait before replying? Would you look too desperate if you answered right away?

You shrugged, deciding to answer him. It was casual, you both knew it wouldn't go anywhere, so who cares how it looked?

You: Good morning, you're up early! And yes, what did you have in mind?

You chewed your thumb nail as you waited for his answer.

Joel Miller: This is nothing, I've been up since 5. For some reason, clients expect me to be at job sites early. How about ice skating?

You giggled and tapped out a reply.

You: I'd love to!

Joel Miller: Great - I'll pick you up at 7

Realizing you forgot to reply to Sydney the day before, you switched messages and shot her a quick answer before sliding back down under the covers to scroll on your phone.

You resisted the urge as long as you could - a whole fifteen minutes - before you typed Joel's name into Facebook. His name popped up with two mutual friends and you rolled your eyes. Of course your parents were friends with him. Clicking on his name, you scrolled down his page, tapping through photos of him and Sarah that looked out of date. He didn't seem like the type to update social media often, and his page reflected that hunch. He didn't have many pictures so it didn't take long until you scrolled all the way to the end, presumably his first photo from when he joined. It was a grainy picture of him with a huge smile and his arm slung around a woman with dark, curly hair, just like Sarah's.

She was pretty, you couldn't deny that, and you vaguely wondered why they broke up. He made it sound like he didn't want a divorce, and you figured he would have mentioned cheating since you brought it up.

You closed the app. If Joel wanted to tell you, he would.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way downstairs on the hunt for coffee. Pouring yourself a cup from the machine, you burrowed into the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you waited for your coffee to cool down and flipped through the various streaming services your parents subscribed to.

"Hey Buck, you're up early," your dad said as he descended the stairs and headed to the coffee.

"Hey, Dad," you said, taking a sip from your mug and wincing as you burned your tongue.

"What're you up to today? You wanna come to dinner with your mom and me?"

"Actually, I have a date," you told him, bracing for the reaction.

"Whoa-ho! Been here not even a week and you got yourself a date? Don't tell me... Troy?" he asked with a big grin, sitting down at the other end of the couch.

"Ew, no!" you said, scrunching your nose. "It's, um, Joel," you said quickly, taking another sip from your mug.

"Our contractor?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, we met at the party," you told him. "Then I ran into him at the mall."

"Ran into who at the mall?" you heard Cassie's voice from down the hall.

"When did you get here?" you asked as she rounded the corner and gazed at your coffee enviously.

"Just now. Who did you see at the mall?"

"Joel," you said, glaring at her. "Got something to tell me about that?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He was asking about you at the party. I made sure to let him know you were single."

"Yeah, he told me, thanks for the heads up, by the way," you said. "We're going out tonight."

"I didn't realize he was single, I just assumed he was married because he's always got Sarah around," your dad said, beginning to zone out to the movie that was on the TV.

"He's single," was all you said, picking your phone back up.

"He's cute," Cassie said, and you blushed. "I'm glad you said yes, mom and dad already love him, so he'll fit right in."

"I don't even live here. It's a casual thing, we're just hanging out," you told her.

"Yeah, okay," she said, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched her as you passed by.

"I'm going to shower, then maybe you can help me pick out something to wear," you told her over your shoulder, walking back upstairs.

Joel arrived at your parents' house promptly at 7, just as he promised. He pulled into the driveway, checking his hair in the review mirror quickly before sliding out of his truck and making his way up the porch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous as he glanced down a the green flannel he wore, praying he didn't miss a button or a stain. He was with his ex for so long that he could barely remember a time when he was nervous around her.

But with you, he felt the butterflies the moment he saw you at the party. You didn't notice him at first, but he saw you enter the living room and freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on someone across the room before backing out the way you came, as if you were looking to avoid them. He couldn't catch who it was, having hardly known more than five people in the whole house, but he felt compelled to follow you. To see if you were maybe looking for a husband or boyfriend. But when he saw you alone in the kitchen, staring down at your phone, he couldn't stop himself from saying something to you.

Joel never did things like that. He always kept to himself, very quiet and reserved. He was content with his work during the day and hanging out with Sarah at night.

For the most part, he was happy. It was only at night when the loneliness crept up, when he tucked himself into his big, cold bed and tried his best to fall asleep as fast as he could, so he wouldn't lay there wishing someone who cared for him was just in the bathroom washing up.

Tommy had been encouraging him to get back out there, always offering to watch Sarah if he caught Joel looking a little too long at a waitress or a neighbor. Sarah was old enough to be on her own for a few hours, but he still asked Tommy to stop by, anyway. Maybe part of him wanted his brother to know that he was going on a date, if only so he would stop trying to set him up all the time with women he had no interest in.

Joel reached out to ring the doorbell, cringing when he noticed it was one of those camera doorbells. Paul must have installed it after the house was finished. He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and held his breath, realizing he hadn't thought about your dad's reaction to your date.

Paul swung the door open, greeting Joel with a deep scowl as he leaned up against the doorframe.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked. Joel cleared his throat.

"Hey, Paul. I'm here to pick up your daughter," Joel replied, bracing himself. Paul just stared at him, breathing deeply as he looked Joel up and down. Joel wasn't a small man, but Paul had at least sixty pounds on him. He tended to have an intimidating look until you got to know him.

"Oh, yeah? For what?" Paul asked, clenching his jaw. Joel froze, wondering if there was a reason you didn't tell your parents about tonight, unsure what to say. Finally, Paul's face broke into a huge smile as he began to crack up, doubling over at the waist.

"I'm sorry, Joel, I had to," he wheezed, standing back up and clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Couldn't help myself. Come on in," he said, still laughing as he led Joel down the hall and towards the kitchen.

"Jesus, Paul, scared the shit outta me," Joel admitted, his heart racing as he rubbed his forehead.

"Beer?" Paul asked, and Joel shook his head.

"No thanks, I'm drivin'," he replied, and Paul raised his eyebrows with a nod.

"Good man, passed the first test," he said with a wink as he twisted open a beer for himself. "Hey, uh, in all seriousness, I just wanna talk with you before she comes down."

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, leaning up against the counter.

"I ain't sure what she's told you about the asshole she was with before, but he really hurt her. Now, I know it ain't got nothin' to do with you, what's in the past is in the past," he said. "But just keep that in mind, will you? I can't stand seein' my little girl hurt like that again."

Joel nodded solemnly, understanding completely.

"I ain't like that, I'll be respectful, I promise," Joel replied. "Besides, we both know she's goin' back to New York in a few weeks. We're just gettin' to know each other, is all."

"Yeah, she said the same thing to her sister earlier, but then she spent all damn day on the phone, pickin' out an outfit and gettin' herself ready," Paul said with a sigh. "I'm just sayin', be careful with her."

Joel felt a flutter in his chest and tried to hide his smile when he found out you had been thinking about him all day. He was glad he wasn't the only one.

"I hope you weren't waiting long," you told Joel as he backed out of your driveway.

"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "You're worth the wait. You look beautiful." He glanced down again at the light pink sweater with a small designer logo he was unfamiliar with in the corner.

You blushed and bit your lip, quietly thanking him and trying to hide your reaction behind your scarf, but he saw it. He always does.

Now that he knew you were looking forward to this date just as much as he was, he felt a little more confident.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked, giving you a sideways glance as he merged his truck into traffic.

"Yeah, did you?"

"It was alright," he said, slowing the truck down at a stop light. He turned to face you now. "Couldn't wait to see you, though."

You turned a darker shade of pink and he smiled, pleased to see that he could elicit that reaction from you, the same way you do to him.

"So, ice skating?" you said, trying to take the heat off of you. You looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing he made sure to take his ring off.

"Yeah," he said, pressing his foot on the gas as the light changed. "Thought you could teach me somethin'."

"Teach you? How do you know if I can even skate?" you asked teasingly.

"Just a hunch. Was I right?" he replied, his mouth turning up into a half smirk. You giggled and he felt his stomach tighten. He needed to hear that again.

"Yeah, you were right," you relented. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and slapped the steering wheel in victory, making you giggle again, and his chest filled with warmth at the sound.

"Where's Sarah tonight?" you asked him as he pulled into a parking spot at the skating rink.

"My brother's watchin' her," he replied, disappointed that you got out of the truck so quickly. He had planned on opening the door for you.

"Does she like to ice skate?" you questioned as he led you inside to the counter to rent your skates.

"Oh, of course she does. But I usually sit it out and just watch her have fun," he said, picking up your rentals and heading over to a bench.

"You should have brought her, I wouldn't have minded."

"We don't have to talk 'bout her, you know," he said quicky, and your fingers froze over your laces.

"Why wouldn't we talk about her? She's your daughter," you asked slowly, straightening back up to look at him.

"No, I know. What I mean is, I know it ain't every woman's fantasy to go out with a single dad and all the baggage that comes with that. So, if you don't wanna talk about her, I get it," he said, casting his eyes down as he focused on tying his laces. You reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of his, immediately making him freeze at your touch.

"She's part of your life, so I want to hear about her. You shouldn't think like that, Joel. It's really not a dealbreaker for most women," you assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes glued to your hand as he listened. "And if it is, fuck 'em."

His eyes snapped up to yours now, then a slow smile spread across his face.

"Okay," he said softly, and you smiled, pulling your hand back, leaving him wanting more.

"Besides," you said, standing up on your skates as you made your way to the rink. "You have no idea what kind of fantasies I have."

You turned to give him a wink as you effortlessly stepped out onto the ice, holding out your hands encouragingly for him to follow. It was a miracle he was able to move his legs after that comment, but he managed just because he knew he would feel your warm hands on his again.

Joel was a quick study. He was nervous at first, you could tell that he didn't want to embarrass himself, but he did surprisingly good. Especially considering how crowded the ice rink was and how fast people were skating by. After about half an hour, he was able to skate - albeit, slowly - around the rink next to you without any assistance. Part of you wondered if he pretended to need more help than he really did just so it would make you feel good.

"So, anyway, that's basically what I do for work. It's pretty boring," you said with a sigh.

"Not boring. Marketing in New York City sounds like a dream," he replied.

"Yeah, except I work on all the behind the scenes stuff. It's not really as fun as it sounds," you admitted, not missing work in the slightest since you've been back in Texas.

"Well, d'you work with some fun people, at least?"

You paused, considering his question for a moment, before shaking your head with a dry laugh.

"Not really," you said, but he still tried to help you find a reason why you would put up with it.

"You were able to take off almost a whole month, that's pretty great. Not many places'll let you do that, can't be that bad," he offered, and you scoffed.

"It's the time I saved up for the wedding I was supposed to have," you told him sadly, and he groaned.

"I'm knockin' it outta the park tonight, ain't I?" he said, rubbing his face before almost losing his balance. You giggled and he couldn't stop the huge grin that plastered itself across his face.

"It's fine, you didn't know," you said, waving him off. And for the first time, you really didn't mind talking about it. Something about him made it easier.

"What'dya say we get some hot chocolate?" Joel asked, jutting his chin towards the vendor where you first came in.

"Yeah, that sounds great," you replied. Joel turned towards the exit without looking when a teenage boy, who was speed skating around the rink trying to impress a girl, smacked right into him, sending him flying backwards on the ice.

"Joel!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hey, why don't you watch it!" you yelled angrily at the teenager, who had managed to only stumble a bit upon impact.

"Sorry, man," the kid mumbled before taking off.

"I'm gonna kick his ass," you said, about to stand up to go after him, but Joel reached up to grip your arms, holding you in place.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. Sweetheart. Your heart skipped a beat at the term.

"Are you sure?" you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.

"Yeah, just gimme a hand," he said, and you stood to give his arm a firm yank, allowing him to stand.

"Let's get you off the ice," you told him, ushering him carefully to the exit and finding a bench.

"Does your head hurt?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your fingers reached up to graze the back of his head.

"No," he said breathlessly, staring at you as you continued to study him for any injury. God, you were so beautiful, he couldn't force himself to look away.

"That's good. How about your vision?" you pressed, still so focused on the fall and not seeing the way he was looking at you. But when you finally locked your eyes on his, your breath caught in your throat.

All the laughter and playful yelling surrounding you faded. You couldn't look away from his heated gaze, his deep brown eyes boring into yours so intensely, you almost forgot to blink. He brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, his calloused palm meeting your soft skin. Your lips parted to accommodate your sudden need for more oxygen, and his gaze fell to your mouth.

"Joel," you whispered, and the way his name sounded coming from you was so damn sweet, it almost did him in.

"Yeah?" he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Kiss me."

He didn't need to be told twice.

He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut and slotting his lips against yours, deeply breathing in your scent so he could remember it tomorrow. He was determined to commit every second to memory, knowing that by morning he would be aching for you, aching for this. Against his better judgement, he pressed himself into your lips harder, unsure if he will ever get to feel like this again when you inevitably came to your senses. The idea of this feeling being taken away from him spurred him on, desperate and eager for every second you were willing to give him.

Your hand came up to the back of his neck, holding him against you as his lips massaged yours tenderly. You inched closer to him on the bench so you could tuck yourself into his broad chest. He was so warm and soft and strong that it was making you dizzy. Your fingertips stroked the curls at the base of his neck as you tentatively opened your mouth just enough to suck his lower lip between yours. The quiet noise he made when you did that made your insides clench with need, and against all odds, you felt yourself falling, completely losing yourself in him and the moment.

A startling voice over the loudspeaker announcing that the rink was closing in fifteen minutes finally snapped you out of it. You both pulled back but kept your foreheads pressed together as the world around you slowly melted back into focus. His hand still cupped your face and he lifted his thumb to gently trace your swollen lips.

"I should take you home," he murmured. At first, your stomach flipped, thinking he meant his home, but you realized he wasn't that type and he meant your parents' house.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and you sat back reluctantly, breaking away. His hand dropped from your face to the hand in your lap, his thick fingers wrapping around yours for a moment as he collected himself with a deep breath.

Finally, he forced himself to stand, still clutching your hand and helping you up. You glanced down at the floor and smirked.

"We should probably take our skates off," you said, and he chuckled, breaking the tension and sitting back down, his hand reluctantly letting go of yours to undo his laces.

After you turned in your rentals, his hand quickly found yours again, unwilling or unable to let you go as he led you back to his truck, this time making sure to open the car door for you. Thanking him quietly, you jumped up into the cab and watched him round the front of the car, running a hand through his hair and sucking in deep breath.

You grinned and bit your lip as he started the truck, swinging his arm around to grip your headrest and twisting his body to back out of the spot. It took everything in you not to scoot across the seat and tuck yourself into his side.

He let his arm drop loosely on the seat in between you as he drove down the street, one hand on the steering wheel. Your fingers inched forward, sliding your palm underneath his hand, lacing your fingers together. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile and you drove in a comfortable silence, your hands intertwined the whole time, until he pulled into your driveway and cut the engine.

You sighed as you stared at the darkened house, already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet. He peered over at you, trying to think of a way to prolong the date, but aside from the obvious, which he wasn't going to do just yet, he was coming up empty.

"Lemme walk you up," he said finally, and you nodded, reaching for the handle of the door but he stopped you. You furrowed your brow, confused, until you watched him rush over to open the door, and you grinned, taking his hand so you could slide out of the seat.

You stared at the ground as he led you up the path to the porch, your heart pounding in your ears. You weren't sure what you had been expecting tonight, but it definitely wasn't this feeling. This was so much more.

"Well, thank you for tonight," you said as you reached the door, turning around to look up at him through your lashes. "I had a really good time."

"Yeah, me too," he said, his soft, brown eyes trailing over your face, locking away every little detail. Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his rough hand skimming around to the back of your neck. He tilted your face up, ducking down slightly to meet you halfway and brushed his lips gently over yours.

Your hands flew up to grip the collar of his flannel, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned against the front door. God, for someone who claimed to be rusty, he was a really good kisser. He was gentle and slow and it took your breath away both times. You knew you were getting in over your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All you could think about was him and how badly you wanted more.

Nervously, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his plush lips. He responded by parting his lips and allowing your tongue to dance with his own, his mouth applying more pressure than before as the heat flared between you.

Before you could stop it, a soft moan rumbled from your throat, causing him to pull back, panting slightly as his gaze flickered between your eyes. You gazed up at him, eyes dark and desperate, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You weren't sure what he was searching for, but after a moment he seemed to find it because his mouth came crashing down on yours once again, this time with more yearning and desire. His tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth and in the back of your mind you realized he tasted faintly of mint and you wondered when on earth he popped a mint into his mouth but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment, each seeking something within the other that you never expected to find.

His chest ached knowing he would have to stop kissing you soon, or else he would never leave. He always considered himself a strong man, after everything he had been through, how could he not? But something about you made him realize he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Your lips were so soft compared to his, so sweet and perfect that it made him want to cry because in that moment, he knew he could never let you go.

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