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#why do all that when I can make a full living just. hANGING OUT and making silly little drinks 3 nights a week
swordsandholly · 19 hours
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def need more ditzy reader with mechanic 141- the only thing that tops my love for military men is blue collar boys <333
make sure to take care of yourself tho lovie!! don’t burn urself out :))
I for sure want to write more of her. Hopefully after this insane week at work I’ll be able to really sit down and crank out some writing. For now I’m battling my way through Ch 3 of Across the Way
But pls enjoy this little not proofread experimental snippet I wrote for ditzy reader
“Look.” Your landlord sighs loudly. Like you’re the one inconveniencing him. “I’ll send someone out.”
“That’s what you said two days ago! And three days before that!” You stomp your foot at no one just to get some of the anger out.
“I’ll get to it when I get to it.”
“Why can’t you-“ The line cuts before you can finish. The jerk hung up on you! What the hell!
You pout, plopping down into your desk chair and sighing. What are you supposed to do? You’re not allowed to call a handyman according to the lease and you don’t have a boyfriend right now. You can’t keep washing pans in the bathroom. It’s gross.
You huff.
“Alright?” Simon asks and you whirl in your chair. How does he walk so quietly?
“Yeah…” You pout harder under his steady gaze, slipping down further into the chair.
“You’re a terrible liar, luv.” His eyes crinkle in corners with a smile.
“Well…” You shrug, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. “My kitchen sink has been broken for a whole week and the landlord won’t do anything about it! I called and called and he just keeps saying he’ll send someone and then doesn’t!” Your voice pitches at the end, real annoyance bleeding through into the edges of your words. You fist your hands in your skirt.
“That’s all?” He raises an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you just ask one of us?”
You blink twice, staring up at him. Your face heats and you look away bashfully - not wanting to admit you didn’t think to ask for their help. Stupid. “I don’t want to be a bother…”
“I’ll come by after work.”
“You don’t have to-“
“I’ll be there.” He nods before marching back into the garage. You just blink after him as he goes.
True to his word, Simon shows up at your door with a massive tool box in hand. Really, he still can’t believe you live in such a shit complex. Price pays you well enough. The locks might as well be paper-mache. Simon lowers his mask before knocking. He trusts you with his face - hell you probably forget it every time you look away - but he also wants you to trust him too. For whatever reason.
You’re staring when you open the door. Big doe eyes looking up at him and blinking slowly. He wonders what goes on behind those blank eyes of yours - if it’s nothing at all or such a chaotic dialogue that you can’t process it enough to pay attention.
All or nothing.
“Gonna let me in, doll?” He asks. You startle, not realizing how intensely you zoned out.
“Oh! Yes!” You jump out of the way, letting him into your small studio apartment. Every time he thinks your shorts can’t get smaller he’s proven wrong.
Simon takes a look around, huffing at the net full of stuffies hanging on the wall. Everything about your home is soft - soft colors, soft fabrics. It smells like vanilla, just like you always do when you come into the shop. His eyes lock briefly on a well-loved sewing machine covered in stickers with a project still under the needle. You must have been working on it before he got here.
Did you mean to leave your bra hanging on the back of that chair right by the kitchen? Lacy and lilac. He’ll have to remember that for some other time. Maybe your birthday.
“Let’s ‘ave a look.” He sighs, knees popping as he crouches in front of the sink. It’s a fucking mess, that’s for sure. At least you figured out how to turn the water off.
“Pipe’s busted.” He says. “I can seal it but it’ll take a sec.”
“Okay.” You murmur.
Simon sighs as he turns onto his back to get a better look. He doesn’t miss the way you stare blatantly at his midsection as his shirt rides up. He might adjust some to expose just a bit more.
You really are the least subtle thing in the planet, aren’t you?
“Can you come hold the light f’me, luv?” He points to the toolbox.
“This one?” You ask, as if it isn’t the only flashlight in the box.
“Yeah.”
“Like this?”
“Yup.” At first he expects you to sit silently so he can concentrate, but he quickly realizes that was far too presumptuous.
“Do you have a girlfriend, Si?” You ask quietly.
He huffs. “No.”
“Oh.” You chew your lip. “You seem like the kind of guy that would.”
Simon has never heard a bigger misread in his damn life but he’ll take it as a compliment, he supposes. “Why do you ask?”
“Cause this is boyfriend work and you’re good at it.”
Simon tries to see your logic - he really does - but he just has no clue how those things are even remotely related. Sure, guys fix things for their girlfriends but calling it ‘boyfriend work’ when anybody with two cents could do it is a bit silly. More than, if he’s honest. He just grunts in response, at a total loss for how to respond.
Simon looks down at you. The way you kneel as your cleaving spills out of your tiny tank top - one of many you insist on wearing so often. He can give into temptation just a little bit, right? “Gonna need you to get closer, doll.”
“Oh!” You scoot forward until your knees brush his side. So ready to listen. Cute.
“Can you lean in a bit?”
“Like this?” You lean forward, chest pressing against him while your hand splays over his midsection for balance. Fucking hell.
“Perfect. Good girl.”
It’s bold and a bit uncoordinated even for him. Something Johnny would try. The purposeful choice of words seems to go right over your head. Instead you blush and smile, shifting your hips just a bit. Your chest pushes further into him. So soft.
Fuck.
You’ll be the death of him. Thank god you’re too unobservant to notice that he’s rock fucking hard.
He’s already done with the sink by the time of this little exchange, but he pretends to tighten some useless bolts anyway just to keep you against him a little longer before shooing you away. It’s cute, the way you scramble to get out of the way. Simon turns the water back on before standing, and gesturing toward the sink.
“Give it a try, luv.”
A little furrow forms in your brow as you step forward to turn it on, crouching and standing to make sure the leak has stopped. You turn the faucet off and whip your head around with a grin.
He’s pretty sure you burst an eardrum with the pitch of the squeal you let out, bouncing over and tightly wrapping your arms around his waist. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
“It’s no pro-“ he cuts off as you push up onto your tip toes and press a kiss to his cheek. He can’t help but bark out a laugh. Little minx.
“Oh, I got some lipstick-“ You reach up to smudge it off but he bats your hand away. He’ll wear it back to the garage and show off the kiss he got. Johnny’s going to absolutely fume.
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helvegen-s · 21 hours
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Rage, rage | four
prologue | one | two | three | four
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Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC
Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.
Warnings: blood, bad language, talking about trauma, bad familiar relationships (King of hybern father of the year)
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Sitting in that chair, Nimue did nothing but absorb everything she saw around her: the paintings hanging on the walls, the rugs covering the floor, every detail placed on the shelves, the books arranged alphabetically...
It was all perfect. She had never imagined what the physical representation of the word "home" would be like, yet she felt it should be like this. In every carefully placed thing, she saw the affection behind it.
She stopped daydreaming and returned to the most pressing matter: the fact that, for some reason, she was tied to that chair.
Bound, but without seeing the ropes. It was an invisible force that pushed her against the wood of the armrests and the cushion of the backrest. She tried to suppress a laugh with little success because she knew effortlessly she could free herself from those ties. But well, if it made them feel safer, so be it.
She looked up, first to that male: Azriel, as she had heard others call him.
She still felt that sensation pulsing right in the middle of her being, making her gaze involuntarily go to him even in that room full of people.
Azriel felt like he was going to explode. He stood, leaning against the back of one of the sofas in the living room, positioned between Rhysand and Amren. With his arms crossed over his chest, he tried to control his breathing, counting to ten and releasing the air, counting again.
His wings trembled upon hearing the small laugh that escaped from the lips of that stranger. "What the hell are you laughing at? Do you find the situation funny?" he barked at the girl. She seemed surprised as her expression changed abruptly.
"No," she replied, furrowing her brow. She could feel the man's anger through that invisible thread connecting her to him. She tried to clear her mind. "It's just amusing that you have me tied up here. I can free myself at any moment, and if I don't, it's because I know you're afraid of me."
Rhysand's face must have been a sight. Afraid of her? He reinforced even more the restraints binding the girl to the chair, and with a sly smile, he took a step forward. "Dare to let yourself go, and you'll see what happens."
Was that some kind of sarcasm? Nimue didn't understand, she was just used to people speaking to her clearly, if only to avoid being in her presence more than necessary.
So she stood up, crossing the restraints of the High Lord like someone walking against a gentle breeze. Everyone jumped in their seats, reaching for their weapons or preparing to defend themselves.
But Nimue simply stood there, scanning from one to another: from the High Lord to Azriel, from the petite woman to Cassian, as she had heard Rhysand call him.
"I know you don't understand what I am or who I am right now, but it's okay. I'll explain it calmly, but you have to be willing to listen to me. You need me more than I need you."
Cassian let out a mocking laugh, "And why did you help us if you say you don't need us?"
And then silence fell.
Why had she helped them?
She had acted without thinking, that's for sure. She had never contradicted her father, and for the first time it was under such circumstances that something didn't fit deep within her conscience. She could excuse it with those memories that weren't hers: seeing those two humans in the Cauldron had awakened in her those memories from twenty years ago. But it wasn't just that.
Yes, she knew that within her, that idea of killing her father, ending him, stopping that plan he wanted to carry out and doing good had always been germinating. But in between there was always that rotten and unconditional love she felt for the King of Hybern, which was written in every cell of her being from the day she emerged.
"I needed an excuse," she said aloud. All the attention of those present was on her, and she kept talking. "I always knew my father was never the good one. I'm missing pieces of the story, I only know what he told me through filters. I know there are people in Prythian, I know there's going to be a war, I know everything revolves around the Cauldron. But I don't know much more."
My father.
When the girl uttered those words, Azriel felt a surge rising from the depths of his throat. How could a monster like the King of Hybern have sired such a beautiful creature?
Yes, beautiful. She is beautiful.
He stopped his thoughts abruptly, trying to ignore his own shadow's whispers. He was hallucinating, again.
"I also know that my father expected me to fight for him in this war, to incinerate Prythian's forces. He counted on an easy victory, however now..." Nimue's hands couldn't stop playing with the fabric of the dress she was wearing. It was then that she realized the pristine white fabric of her skirt was stained with blood, the blood of the Illyrians. She took a deep breath and continued speaking, "He's not going to take it very well that I've done this. That I've... betrayed him.”
"Well, don't tell me."
Nimue looked up at Azriel. Was that irony again?
Rhysand gave the Shadowsinger a stern look, and everyone fell silent again, waiting for the girl to speak.
But she didn't know where to continue. What should she tell them about herself? Should she tell them what she was?
And in the midst of the prolonged silence, the High Lord spoke up, "No one knew of the existence of a princess of Hybern. If you claim to be so powerful, why did your father never boast about you?"
There was something that didn't add up in all of this and had Rhysand uneasy. He felt the presence of the female, a pale, pulsating white light in the middle of the room. It was a strange magic, something he couldn't quite categorize within the fae magic that flowed through his veins. His gaze shifted to Amren, hoping she could shed some light on the situation, but to his surprise, she looked just as bewildered as he did.
"My father never wanted my existence to be known. I..." Nimue bit her lip, weighing how much revealing everything to this group of strangers would be a good idea. "I've never left Hybern. In fact, I've never left the castle."
"How old are you, girl? Have you been locked up in there your whole life?" Amren asked.
"It's hard to say how old I am. In this body, I've lived twenty years of yours. Before that... my memories are clouded."
"In this body? Before that?" Azriel inquired. He felt like he was going crazy, wanting to pull his hair out and scream. What was happening? Of all the outcomes he had predicted for today, this was certainly one he wouldn't have even dreamed of. "Tell us the truth, or I swear I'll slit your throat."
Nimue smiled, a poisonous smile she had learned from her father.
"I doubt it. If I have to kick your ass again like I did out there, I will," she held Azriel's gaze. And added, "And with pleasure."
Azriel snorted, baring his teeth in an aggressive gesture and reaching for his dagger. Nimue simply smiled, holding his gaze without flinching.
With that mask she had learned to wear.
Rhysand rolled his eyes and brought his hands to his face, trying to process everything that was happening.
They hadn't obtained the Cauldron, they had learned of Tamlin's betrayal, they had transformed his mate's sisters, and now this. It had been a very eventful day, to say the least.
"So you're trying to tell us that you've been in this world for twenty years, but before that, you were somewhere else, right? Do you remember where?"
"Yes," said Nimue. She tried to hold back another laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "In the Cauldron."
And they fell silent again.
The expressions on everyone's faces were like something out of a painting, and Nimue let out a quiet laugh.
She had never had to explain who or what she was; everyone where she came from knew. They all knew her.
"Well," she began calmly, "we all know my father, the King of Hybern. The fanatic, lunatic and power-hungry one."
"Yes, unfortunately."
"He impregnated one of his royal concubines, and in the midst of that madness, he decided to put her in the Cauldron. I don't know if it was under coercion from the Cauldron itself, if it was a demand my father made, or what. But the woman died instantly, and in exchange for her life, I came out of the Cauldron."
"So, you're telling me that the Cauldron not only has the power to turn humans into fae, as we've seen with Feyre's sisters. You're telling me," Rhysand took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts, "that the Cauldron granted the King a daughter in exchange for a sacrifice, no more, no less."
"Yes, but it's not something that will happen again. The Cauldron created me as its own whim, just as it has done with those two humans you mentioned. Feyre’s sisters…"
“Elain and Nesta.”
"Yes," said Nimue. "What it has done with them won't happen again. Not for a long time, at least. The Cauldron only responds to its own impulses, and I don't even understand them myself. Our fae minds aren't made to understand what the Cauldron is or how it acts. Not even the mind of that creature."
Nimue pointed at Amren, who crossed her arms with a sly smile.
"Well, on that you're right. Not even this creature," she said, pointing to herself, "is capable of understanding under what desires that pot acts."
And they all fell silent again, weighing the situation and assimilating what the girl had said.
Azriel was simply angry, furious. He couldn't feel anything else at that moment. He didn't care much about the Cauldron's affairs, nor did he lose sleep over trying to understand how it worked.
He just wanted to know why he had the misfortune of finding out that his mate, whom he had been waiting to meet since he was a child, had to be the damn daughter of the King of Hybern.
"And regarding your problem," Nimue continued, this time addressing only Azriel, "well, our problem. I never knew what a mate was, as you called it. I knew that the Cauldron forged the souls of people to be incomplete, so that if they were lucky, they would find the other half they were missing during their life. But when I saw you, when I felt it, I was able to understand. I'm sorry if it's been a disappointment, but it is what it is."
Azriel frowned, his arms crossed and the hair on his arms bristling. He felt like he was trembling with rage.
"I didn't ask for this, princess."
Nimue didn't want to admit it, but the pull of disdain she felt on the other side of the bond made her heart shrink.
"Great, neither did I."
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Taglist:
@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @donttellthecats @annblvd
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sixeyescurseuser · 2 days
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part 1
Geto is slowing down. He begins engaging in conversation with Gojo, allowing the sorcerer to get within arms length of him. 
Geto works up the nerve to ask, “How do you know where I am all the time?”
Gojo shrugs.  “I can smell you.”
“EH?” Geto raises an arm and smells his armpit. "But I’m a curse. I don’t...produce a scent.”
Gojo shrugs again. “You do to me.”
Geto’s eye twitches.
“Okay, well. I gotta go - nice talking to you BYE!” he says while fleeing once again.
Not even a week later, they meet again during night time, in an open field, where the moon hangs high up in the air. 
Geto perches on a tree branch while Gojo sits on the ground, laying against the tree. Strangely enough, Gojo hasn’t struck up another conversation since joining Geto in his peaceful spot to rest. 
Geto decides to be social this time around. 
“The moon is beautiful tonight,” he quietly comments. 
“Oh, is it?”
Geto glares down at Gojo, the sorcerer obviously noticing the heated look from his companion. Sure, Gojo is blindfolded, but he stated that his six eyes are still powerful enough to perceive his surroundings in great detail.
Shouldn’t he be able to see how bright the moon is?
“Yes, it’s a full moon,” Geto says. “I usually don’t slow down enough to appreciate it.”
Gojo hums, as if in agreement. He tilts his chin up to face towards the curse above him. 
“I see something else that’s beautiful tonight too, but it’s certainly not the moon,” Gojo murmurs softly.
Geto sighs. “Why are you still following me?” In lieu of an answer, Gojo goes from sitting at the base of the tree to sitting on the branch next to Geto’s in the blink of an eye. Geto gasps, turning his gaze away in fear of unleashing his powers on the sorcerer, even though Gojo still wears his blindfold. 
“I follow you because I enjoy your company,” Gojo responds, lacking the usually teasing tone he has when pursuing Geto in their game of tag. “It’s less lonely, isn’t it?”
Somehow, Geto’s cheeks heat up. First, being indirectly complimented for his beauty (whether Gojo could truly see him or not), and second, acknowledging they’ve been sharing a sense of companionship for the past few weeks. 
Gojo Satoru is certainly a force to be reckoned with. 
Geto just hopes he doesn’t get burned in the process. 
***
Gojo finds Geto beyond endearing. The drawings of Geto in history books depict him to be much scarier and violent. 
But he was human too. And Gojo feels this every time he manages to cross paths with the tired curse. Frankly, Gojo wouldn’t be surprised if most of the information in history books are mere rumors that conceal the truth. 
Making Geto out to be something he really is not. 
Well, if he plays his cards right, Gojo will hopefully be able to uncover that truth, and see Geto in the way Gojo himself wishes to be seen. 
When Gojo reveals who exactly the strong and resilient partner he’s taken a liking to, Shoko can only sigh while lighting a new cigarette.
Shoko: “I can't say I’m surprised.”
***
The first time they kiss, they’re sitting together on a bench in the quiet section of a park surrounded by flowers in bloom. This is the first touch of affection Geto has ever experienced, always used and abused when he lived as a sorcerer and hated as a curse. 
However, Gojo’s hand tenderly cups his jaw, guiding their lips together in languid kisses that part with wet smacking noises-
“Fuck! That hurt!” Gojo yelps while pulling away. 
Geto’s snakes, being the biggest haters of their budding relationship, keep biting Gojo’s forehead. Geto scolds his snakes in an angry whisper. 
“Stop it! This is a good thing! Don’t ruin this for me,” Geto says. The snakes respond in their own unique ways. 
“Sorcerer, show us your eyes - just one peek!”
“KILL HIM.”
“Geto-san, I’m hungry~~”
One lone snake actually takes a liking to Gojo and scents his cheek with a flick of the tongue. 
Despite Geto’s occasional embarrassment of his snakes’ behavior, Gojo finds them cute anyway.
***
Gojo and Geto decide on a secluded cottage for Geto to live in. With money and status not being an issue, Gojo took care of furnishing the cottage and land ownership. 
Gojo also has barriers in place so no one - non-sorcerers OR sorcerers - will bother Geto. Gojo insists it’s the least Geto deserves considering the circumstances in how they met. 
Geto wants to cry because he hasn’t even told Gojo half of the shit he’s been through. Yet, Gojo is offering the peace Geto has so desperately craved all his life, right here on a silver platter. 
Better yet, a peace without eternal loneliness. 
Geto is still scared of wandering out by himself because of his powers, so Geto keeps himself busy inside the cottage.
Gojo visits when he can, usually every couple of days. Like a cat who’s been waiting for its owner to come home, Geto greets Gojo with a long kiss. Over time, Geto’s snakes have also come to love Gojo, and they too will place kisses all over Gojo’s face when the lovers are close. 
Gojo makes sure to bring back dozens of treats for Geto to try. Geto’s tastebuds are nowhere near what they used to be, but he giddily accepts the bland food that’s been provided with love and care.
Geto versus technology is an entertaining phenomenon. He’s a curse from the ancient times, and there hasn’t been an opportunity to learn the new ways of mobile devices or the internet. 
Geto picks up texting the quickest, though he uses formal grammar in dense paragraphs and puts a period after each sentence. 
Gojo sends Geto lots of funny videos, to which Geto responds with: “Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.”
Gojo types back :“so harsh, suguru!🥹”
Geto: “I laughed though.”
Gojo: “yes you did, my dear🥰”
***
w/ @no-one-says-hi
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senseichaos · 3 months
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"PATHETIC"
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SUMMARY: Don't go into Alastor's studio if he's on air. It was that simple. But sometimes you like to be bad. (In which Alastor broadcasts your moans live as a punishment)
GENRE: PWP, Smut, small amount of angst, a lil fluff
WARNINGS: Psychopathic Alastor, sadism, masochism, bratty reader, unprotected sex (don't!), collar, handcuffs, chains, degration, exhibitionism, implied aftercare, humiliation, finger sucking, dub-con/non-con depending on how you see it, orgasm denial, leash, degration, praise, let me know if there are any more!
PART 2 (aftercare)
NOT PROOF READ (YET)
____
Don't go into Alastor's studio if he's on air, it was that simple.
But you do it anyway. Out of pure bratty desires you defy Alastor because.. why not? What's the worst that could happen? Actually.. there is a lot of 'worst' that could in fact happen but I mean, he's not all bad.. is he?
With a small grin on your face you lay your hand against the door swiftly, knocking loudly to make sure you are alerting Alastor of a visitor. The anxiety you feel when you do this is far too real, from the clammy fingers to the feeling that this whole idea is a horrible mistake. You almost feel as if you could fall to the floor beneath you.
Yet it's so exhilarating.
"I'm afraid I'm busy!" You hear Alastor holler from beyond the door, his slightly fake kind tone obvious. He hates it when people interrupt his work. You almost giggle, feeling an odd nervous giddiness going through yourself at the prospect of opening this door.
With a sharp intake of breath, you swing open the door and close it softly behind yourself. Though behind him you can see Alastor pinch the space between his eyebrows with an annoyed smile.
He turns his head to look over at you, giving you an annoyed smile that makes you bite your lower lip.
"What is it you need, dear?" Alastor asks, adjusting one of the nobs on the recording equipment in front of him. "I am very sure I said I was busy," He sighs, looking over at you again with even more annoyance visible on his face.
"I just wanted to hangout,"
Alastor stands, horns growing with his annoyance as he takes a warning step towards you. You take a meek step back and gulp down a nervous glob of saliva.
"So you come into my studio, interrupting my broadcast-" he turns shifts into his full demon form as he moves towards you, until his face is completely in front of your face. An angry smile on his features. "All because you wanted to hang out?" He pulls you closer by a metal collar of his energy, his nose against your own as his hand clutch tightly onto the chain.
"What a bad pet you are.." He says darkly, pulling you harshly so you choke and fall to the ground on your hands and knees. For a couple moments he just pulls you with the leash, walking you towards the chair until he sits on it. He swivels it around to look at you, your own large and nervous ones looking into his.
He pushes your head up to look straight at him by the toe of his shoe, the coldness making your skin burn. You can't help but lean even closer towards him, so the toe of his show just barely digs into the skin there.
"Fawn, you were just here for my attention, weren't you?"
You consider lying to him, making yourself out to be more of a brat and possibly get a worse outcome than you're already gonna get.. but from the position you're in it's probably a bad idea. So with a sharp gulp and a blush across your cheeks you nod, biting your lower lip. Alastor grins, leaning down and taking his foot from your chin.
His gaze is rather soft, almost adoring as he tugs you closer by your chain leash. Slowly and intimately he pushes his thumb into your mouth, pointing finger making you look into his lidded eyes. With a burst of passion you suck onto his thumb, swirling your tongue against the red claw as he watches with amused eyes.
"My lovely fawn, perhaps you just need to be reminded who owns you," He purrs, pulling his thumb from your mouth (much to your dismay). With a sharp motion Alastor tangles his fingers into your hair, manhandling you face first into his desk so your ass faces him. You cry out at this movement, the roughness of his movements contrasting wildly to the care he gave you just moments before.
"Lovely. I'm afraid this punishment is not going to be pleasant, but you must learn from your mistakes," Alastor sighs, and with a swift motion of his hands bounding your wrists with cuffs of his magic. He keeps them bound onto the table so you are unable to move, causing a pain to go through your wrists when you flinch at Alastor's movements. Roughly, he pulls down your skirt and discards it across the room, leaving you bare besides from your thin pink panties.
"What a pretty color, they must be a favorite pair of yours.." you blush, trying to tilt your head to see him behind you; only for the collar to keep you from doing so. You feel his claws drag up the sides of your thighs until they meet the fabric of your panties, clawing rather dangerously at it.
"Yeah, i-i wore them for you.." You whimper with a stutter, wiggling your but at him to appear enticing. He chuckles, hooking his pointer fingers into your panties at each side.
"How lovely,"
With a harsh pull, he rips either side of your panties in half. You gasp at this, trying to stand up only for the cuffs around your hands and the collar around your neck to tighten. This causes you to bruise and cry out in pain.
"Alastor! I liked that pair.." You complain, kicking your legs in a sort of tantrum that Alastor tuts. With a sudden thrash Alastor aggressively pulls at your chain leash, making your head move up with a strain that is horribly painful.
"Bad fawns don't get treated with propriety, my dear," Alastor explains, twisting his hand so the chain slowly wraps around his hand. You can see his shadow loom closer and closer over your own figure.
"And bad fawns especially don't get any foreplay.."
What? No foreplay? He can't be serious..
Let's just say.. Alastor is rather large in the nether regions. And he knows this. Every single time you've ever fornicated he'd always done foreplay- just to open you up enough that you wouldn't be in horrid paid every time he stuck his cock in you. You can already feel the pain inside of you and he hasn't even pushed his tip to you.
"Alastor, no- I can't.."
"Don't forget my fawn.." He hooks his fingers into your hair again, forcing you to tilt your head as he whispers into your ear. His horns are larger than earlier, and his entire build in general is a lot more.. demonic.
"You wanted this.."
You don't want this anymore.
Tantalizing slow, Alastor drags his claws up your spine, taking in every shiver and whimper that you give him in turn. How dominating he feels, it's like nothing else to him he can tear as many people's souls to shreds but nothing will be the same as fucking you to pliancy. He can do horrid things to you, and you still come back for more.
He loves that in you, in his own way.
You feel his tip just barely twitch against your entrance, one hand holding your chain and his staff whilst the other presses harshly against your thigh. Wait. Why is he holding his staff.. that doesn't make any sense unless-
Fuck. He can't be serious, can he?
"Salutations dear listeners, ever so sorry for my break. But I have a treat just for you!" He says, his voice strong with the confidence of a person who has done this millions of times before. Shivering you let out a small whimper, he's really going to do this, isn't he? He's going to fuck you on air. You want to disappear. This is humiliating! This is.. humiliating. He can't be serious! You though he was better than this..
Shows you to think more of the radio demon.
In a swift movement you scream out, Alastor's entire length being shoved into you with a single thrust. You see stars of red, the area around you glowing a green that makes your head just slightly throb in pain. With another harsh thrust Alastor pulls in your leash, forcing you to look out the window.
He leans down and growls condescendingly.
"Watch the entirety of the pride ring as they hear me break you," he says and you cry out. He is. He is breaking you from the inside out, you can feel every thrust of his cock through your entire body with a painful wave. You can hardly see anymore. Everything is blurred with a wall of tears that fall down your cheeks.
"Fuck!" You cry in a distressful pleasure. You hate that this feels good. Why do you want him to break you? Why do you want him to fuck you from the inside out until all you can do is sit there and listen to him speak. You hate that you love this.
"That's it, little fawn. Let me break your whorish body.." He laughs, the hold on your chain leash making you lose a very small amount of air. You try to clutch at something, anything to ground you, but all you can feel is the warm chains bounding you to the desk beneath you, the chains bounding you to this terrible pleasure.
You can't describe it. Every thrust of his cock makes you moan, in an ashamed yet purely entangled tone. You can hear the passion in your voice as Alastor digs his claws so hard into you you bleed. Yet you can definitely hear the pain in your voice when the tip of his cock just barely hits your cervix.
"Such a pathetic thing, letting me take you like this.. you didn't even put up a fight,"
You see red, a weird loving anger.
"I fucking HATE you.."
Alastor laughs, and you can practically smell that shit-eating grin on his face.
"No," he thrusts "You," he thrusts "Dont~" he thrusts, punctuating his words and his teasing tone. You claw at the chains, wishing to rip their bounds so you can spit in his stupid beautiful face. Fuck. You can't stop this pleasure.
With every thrust comes another build of an orgasm inside of you, every thrust making that knot pull tighter and tighter. He isn't even doing anything to pleasure you, either- you just love this in a way you can't describe.
"Don't orgasm without my permission, dear," Alastor cackles, biting his lower lip "Or else..!" He teases, giving you a particularly harsh thrust as to solidify his words. You nod softly with a whimper, your neck aching from the way he's handling your leash.
You clench particularly hard, feeling that orgasm begging to be released.
"Alastor! Please let me cum.." You whimper, biting your lower lip as it trembles very slightly. He hums for a moment, as if to mock your display of obedience before clicking his tongue and leaning down.
"Beg for it," he says simply, thrusting even quicker making the urgency inside of you real. Crying, you babble for a moment, the pleasure inside of you becoming to much.
"Fuck! Please let me cum, I'll do anything, I'll listen to everything you say, please! Please..." You don't think you've felt more desperate your whole entire time in hell, which is even more pathetic, really. The most desperate you've felt isn't for your life, money, or soul. It's to come on the cock of a psychopathic sadist.
"Lovely. Come for me, my dear,"
You let go with an obnoxious wail, walls clenching around Alastor so tightly you could have sworn he grunted. It's like your whole body let go, your legs give out, your shoulders relax, and your eyes roll back.
"Good fawn, how good,"
With one last thrust, Alastor buries his cock deeply inside of you, emptying his seed to the point where your stomach begins to bloat. One thing you've learnt about Alastor, when he cums, he cums a lot.
"Now then," Alastor declares after a short moment, pulling his cock from your hole and stuffing it back into his pants. "Let's get you cleaned up!" Alastor says brightly, clicking his fingers so the bounds on your neck and hands release. Though this only makes your centre of gravity shift in such a way you almost fall to the ground, if it weren't for Alastor catching you and holding you bridal style. Holding you. This is a rare occurrence indeed.
"Thank you dear listeners and I'll see you next time! Perhaps you may even get another treat, Ha ha!"
Alastor turns back to you, looking at you deep in the eyes as his sclera turn a deep black.
"Will they, my dear..?"
You gulp, shrinking in his arms.
"No, Alastor,"
He turns back to normal, giving you an adoring look as he twirls on his foot, taking you from the room.
"Lovely, now let's get a bath running!"
4K notes · View notes
jaylaxies · 21 days
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NOW OR NEVER
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PAIRING: spider-man!sunghoon x fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, choking, fingering, slight bondage, usage of nicknames, breeding.
SYNOPSIS: going around the city with your massive poster which said, ‘Choke me, Spider-Man!’ was something you did for fun, not knowing that your dream might actually come true.
WC: 1.4k words
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, loves! this one was requested by my anonnie and i’ve also posted this as a mark fic before! i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33
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“Shh, baby. Don’t want your parents to hear now, do we?”
You truly couldn’t believe that it was happening—that Spider-Man was in your room with his slender fingers wrapped ever so perfect around your throat.
You’ve always wanted this from the day you first saw him, on the day he saved a lift full of people from falling down and crashing to the ground. You were one of those who unfortunately got stuck inside the lift too, which was the traumatic onset of your tiny crush on him.
No one knew who was behind that mask, yet his suit clad figure was a sight to see, his build lean and slightly muscular, not to mention he smelled brilliant (a little something you gathered when he saved you).
To add to it, his ever so attractive voice always grasped everyone’s attention, you thought he was funny too, which is exactly why you ended up making a poster full of glitter saying:
Choke me, Spider-Man!
It was a silly joke, albeit you’d definitely be lying if you say you didn’t get wet dreams about the superhero, because you did. Detailed ones at that.
Maybe carrying the poster with you at all times was a stretch but you did it anyway, granted that your city was full of crimes and spotting Spider-Man was an easy task, which is why you proudly held up the poster in the crowd whenever you saw him, after he fought with the villain that is.
The people around you laughed, but it wasn’t mocking, it was more of an amused laugh, and you could have sworn you noticed spidey look your way, before swinging away, much to your dismay.
This went on a few times. You were practically waving the poster frantically when it was the fourth time, yet he didn’t pay you attention of any sort, leaving you dejected as you dragged yourself back home from Uni, chuckling at your state.
Crush on a superhero?
Pathetic.
He’s loved by countless people all over the world, what makes you think he’d have time to give you even a sliver of his attention when he’s so busy saving the world?
Clicking your tongue, you threw the crumbled poster in the trash can of your bedroom, dimming the lights as you sat down on your bed, ready to change into your nightwear before opting to sleep to take your mind off things.
Just then, a loud sound of knocking on your window caught your attention, which was funny considering you lived up on a pretty high floor in your apartment building. You thought that it must be a bird, still, you decided to open the curtains to check it out.
Shock would be an understatement to explain what you were feeling the second your eyes laid on the person right outside your window.
The reason for your sour mood, or rather, the reason you spent hours trying to ease the pent up frustration in you each night, moaning out with need, was hanging by your window.
“Oh god,” you breathed out, brain short circuiting for a few seconds before you shook your head, opening the windows for him to come in.
Who knew Spider-Man would actually care enough to notice you?
Then you realized just how awkward the situation was, and you didn’t have much to say anymore now that he was standing right in front of you, looking around as if he was inspecting your room.
“Spider man,” you breathed out, and he chuckled.
His attention was on you now, walking closer to you, “so, you’re the one who wanted to be choked by me,” he said smoothly, and you couldn’t help but shamelessly gawk at his figure, mouth watering at the sight.
“Uhm—I mean, holy fuck you’re actually here,” you tried to voice out your thoughts, but they were a mess, which only caused him to chuckle at your shocked state.
“Didn’t you want me here, baby?” He asked and you felt your knees buckling at the deep tone of his voice.
You took another step back, only to lose balance and trip. But good for you, your spidey was quick to shoot his web on your silky night blouse, pulling you close and right into his arms.
He smelled so good.
“Careful. We don’t want you hurting your pretty face,” he whispered, tracing his glove clad finger along your jaw, gripping your chin when he noticed how your body had gone still, “deep breaths, babe.”
“Are you gonna fuck me?” You asked, voice coming out in a low whine, eyes twinkling with hope.
He chuckled, pulling his mask up which had you bubbling with anticipation, you really wanted to see what he looked like. However, he stopped a little too soon for your liking, only exposing his lips, leaning in to mumble against your own.
“I’m gonna fuck the life out of you,” he whispers, a gasp leaving your lips as you pulled him closer into a rushed kiss.
He was quick to take over, kissing you harder as he pushed you down on your bed, you could feel his fang like canines biting down on your bottom lip, “undress, quick,” he ordered, and you fumbled while getting everything off your body.
Your cheeks were warm, your eyes on his figure, which was now devoid of his costume, faint abs and strong muscles on display for you, but your mouth practically salivated at the sight of his cock, thick and hard.
Just when you sat up to touch him, he grabbed your wrist, pushing them up your head and shooting webs to tie them, making sure they didn’t move.
You never knew you’d be into web-play but here you are, getting wet by being constrained by webs.
“Please,” you begged in hopes that he’d touch you, or do something, anything.
“So needy, aren’t you?” He clicks his tongue, his fingers caressing your cunt, collecting your wetness, “so wet already,” he smirked, “wanna be fucked all night, huh?” He asked, continuing working his fingers between your legs, arousal leaking from your cunt.
His other hand was wrapped up around your neck, fingers tightening enough for you to gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt lightheaded with the whole situation, but you couldn’t have asked for anything better.
He was so good with his fingers, thumb pads circling your clit while two digits plunged in and out of you, eliciting moans out of you.
“Shh,” he whispered, his hold around your neck tightening which caused you to open your mouth, giving him the perfect opportunity to lean in and spit in your mouth, watching the glob travel down your tongue till you gulped it down, earning a praise out of him, “good girl.”
He pulled back right when your body started shaking with the orgasm building up in your lower abdomen, his hold on your neck loose to let you breathe some more before he took it to the next level.
He ran his lips down your neck, sucking harshly as he lined his cock to your eager folds, your expression blissful and your entrance so wet, it made it easy for him to bottom out, “so fucking pretty,” he groaned out.
His voice strained as he started fucking you into your mattress, his power was evident with how precise and hard his thrusts were. It was a lifetime opportunity for you, and you wished to savour every second of it as you wrapped your legs around his slender waist, pulling him even closer and deeper in your pussy.
He hit your spot over and over again, “cream my cock like a good girl, baby,” he rasped out, his own orgasm approaching.
You couldn’t hold back anymore, with his fingers still gripping your neck, the lack of air was evident but it somehow made you feel as if you were floating with unadulterated bliss around you as you finally reached your state of euphoria, coming undone on his cock, exactly when he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with yours as he emptied himself in you.
You whined when he pulled back, getting dressed after draining you, “you’re leaving?” You asked, frowning.
“Gotta save the world now, pretty,” he whispered, removing his webs from your wrists before pecking your lips and rushing out of the window, leaving you dazed.
Maybe making the poster wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
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THANK YOU FOR READING!
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© jaylaxies | tumblr
2K notes · View notes
star-sim · 1 month
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head over heels ☆ sunghoon park
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☆ 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!
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"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.
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"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.
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"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.
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.
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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.
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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.
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."
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."
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.
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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.
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stillmonsterz · 2 months
Text
GAM3 BO1
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pairing: heeseung x reader
genre: smut
summary: reclusive gamer heeseung offers you the chance to live in a decent place in exchange for your companionship.
warnings: unprotected sex, swearing, voyeurism, dubcon, somnophilia, jerking off, exhibitionism, coercion, humiliation, anal sex
word count: 3.7k
--
The man you’re looking at in this coffee shop does not look like he could pay rent anywhere, let alone cover most of yours. He looks like he should be scrolling imageboards in his mother’s basement as he dines on high-fructose corn syrup. His eyes have bags, his skin is pale and sallow, his overgrown bangs reach below his eyebrows, and he’s so thin that the sleeves of his button-up hang from his arms. He peeks at you under his eyelashes, smiling shyly.
“You seem like a good fit,” he says quietly, fiddling with the handle of his mug of coffee. “And like I said, all you would have to do is clean up, do the laundry…make sure the place isn’t a complete pigsty.” He laughs softly. “God knows I’m awful at that.”
“Well, I can do that,” you say slowly, leaning back in your chair. “I still don’t understand why you’re being so generous. I mean, you could just get a maid. It’d cost you less money, too.” You don’t mention that the apartment is ridiculously nice for the pittance he would let you pay for it, and it’s in a choice location in the city. When you saw the ad for it on the roommate app you had downloaded, you had thought it was a scam. But then, you were so desperate that you were willing to fall for a scam. As it turns out, the apartment is real – he had sent you a video of it at your behest – and the owner was definitely real.
Heeseung – Heeseung Lee, a single computer programmer that had come into an undisclosed yet presumably exorbitant amount of wealth following his parents’ passing – laughs again, a self-conscious chuckle that quickly dies in his throat. “Well, to be honest with you…I just get lonely. I mean, my work is all online, and I don’t have many, uh, friends. I sort of just stay at home and play…” Heeseung’s voice becomes hushed. “play video games. It’s sort of pathetic.”
“Nothing pathetic about that,” you say quickly. He’s so earnest, it tugs at your heartstrings. “I think this could be a great arrangement.”
Heeseung looks up at you, and his eyes are shining. He smiles at you, tilting his head. “Really?”
“Yeah.” You smile as well. “And I’m a pretty good companion, if I do say so myself.”
Heeseung’s eyes flicker down, lingering below your collar for a full five seconds before he looks back up at you. “You know, I think you’ll be a great companion for me.”
--
Your first week living in his apartment is relatively peaceful. Relatively is the operative word. Your room is comfortable, stocked with plain furniture. Heeseung gives you carte blanche to decorate it as you wish, which is nice. Cleaning up after him is a simple affair, too. He deposits his dirty dishes and takeout containers outside of his door at regular intervals – 6 pm, when he wakes up and orders something, 8 pm, when he remembers to eat something, and 2 am, when he needs a snack to keep him going. You got home from work at 5, so it wasn’t hard to accommodate him. He exclusively eats Doordash, which saddens you a bit. When you made pasta for yourself one day, you decided to knock on his door and offer him a bowl of it. His eyes had widened, like you had offered him  a plate of solid gold.
“Really?” he’d said, receiving the bowl.
“Yeah, of course.” You had smiled at him sympathetically; it was really so easy to please him.
Heeseung had grinned at you. “Thank you, thank you.” He had taken a large bite of it and closed his eyes, nodding and pointing at the bowl. “You’re so good at cooking, wow. Wow, thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“No really…you’re an angel. Like a domestic goddess.” Heeseung had looked you up and down. “You’re like a cute little maid.”
You laughed and walked away.
 His eating habits were one thing, but some things he does mystify you. He refuses to let you inside of his room, blocking your view of the door. You can catch a whiff of stale air whenever the door is cracked even slightly, which piques your interest. “It’s just really messy in here,” he’d tell you nervously. Heeseung only really comes out of his room to play Overwatch on the Smart TV in the living room. Other than that, he asks you periodically to bring him things when you get home from work.
There’s also one other issue: you swear your panties are going missing. Your favourite pair of panties has vanished, as well as a pair you generally wear when you’re on your period. You take care of all the laundry (including Heeseung’s own filthy boxers), so it’s impossible that you could have misplaced them. You don’t push anything, though.
Today is weird, though. When you get home, there’s a medium-sized package outside of the door. It has Heeseung’s name on it, so you bring it to his door and knock. “Heeseung, there’s something for you.”
Heeseung cracks the door open, his hair having grown even longer in the week you had been here. “Oh, no,” he says, pointing with a bony finger, “that’s for you.”
“Aw, Heeseung,” you say with a wide smile. “You got me something?”
Heeseung grins at you and shrugs. “It’s the least I can do. You do so much for me…I hope you like it.”
You excitedly open the package, but your smile drops when you see its contents: a cheaply-made maid outfit with spaghetti straps, white lace trim, and a skirt that would cover your panties and little else. “You…want me to wear this?”
“Yes,” Heeseung says, reaching out to touch your shoulder. “Come on, it’s just a dress. No one else will see.”
You sigh. He practically lets you live here for free, so you might as well play along. “What, you want me to wear it right now?”
Heeseung nods so vigorously you’re surprised his head doesn’t roll off his skinny little neck. You turn away to head to your room to change, but Heeseung’s grip on your shoulder tightens. “No. Change here.”
You whip your head to face him. “What?”
His gaze is steely now, his previous shyness having seemingly dissipated. “Change in front of me.” Then, as though he had been momentarily possessed, his softness returns. “Please? I don’t ask you for a lot, right?”
You swallow your pride and put the maid outfit on the ground. First, you remove your hoodie, revealing your tank top. As you fold up your hoodie, you can see Heeseung’s hand furiously moving in his boxers, which causes you to freeze.
“Keep going,” he says hoarsely, leaning his head back. Dread pools inside of your gut as you continue to strip. Soft, strained moans spill from Heeseung’s lips as he watches you strip down to your underwear. When you put on the maid costume, he carefully adjusts the straps of your dress with his slick hands. “Very nice,” Heeseung says. “Turn around for me?”
You turn, and you can feel the cool air of the apartment hitting your ass- the dress is that short. “So good,” Heeseung whispers. “You can take it off now.”
Your hands fumble with the hem of your dress, but Heeseung laughs. “Not here,” he says, removing his hands from your shoulder. “In your room, silly. And after you’re done, bring the dress to me, okay?”
You’re too dazed to question his instructions, and you’re all but too happy to get out of the dress. After you’re done changing, you hand the maid outfit to him. He smiles and takes it without a word.
Things go by relatively smoothly after that, and you almost wonder if you made that incident up. The only thing that has changed about his behavior is that he comes to see you more. Not for long, only a few minutes per day. If you make cookies, he’ll ask if he can try some of the dough or try a cookie. If you’re doing the laundry, he’ll ask you about your day as you fold.
You’re currently on your hands and knees scrubbing a particularly obstinate white stain on his couch when you hear Heeseung’s voice behind you. “You know, you should wear leggings more often,” he says.
You don’t turn to look at him. “Yeah, why?”
“They make your ass look perfect,” he says with a laugh. “Of course, it looks best naked.”
You’re about to ask him how he would know how your ass looks naked before he’s already wandered off. About two minutes later, you can hear him in his room playing a low-grade pornography, his own moans mixing in with the fake screams of pleasure from the women. You put your headphones on and try to drown the sound out- even the sound of Heeseung calling your own name.
This goes on for a while, and it only gets worse. Now he leaves his door open so the sound of him jerking off echoes through the apartment. When you’re trying to sleep, you can hear the severely un-titillating sounds of the brother-con hentai he watches.
One day, you’re rummaging through your underwear drawer trying to find your comfortable, plain bra. You realize that it’s missing, and your anger reaches a boiling point. You stomp over to his room and knock on the door. “Heeseung,” you growl.
Heeseung opens the door nonchalantly and smiles. “Hi,” he says innocently, “could you clean my room for me?”
“Could I what? Heeseung, did you steal m-,”
“And could you wear this while you do it?” As if he had been expecting you, Heeseung walks over to his bed and hands you the maid outfit, your missing bra, and that pair of your favorite panties. All of them were coated in globs of cum in various stages of hardening, especially your panties.
“Heeseung!” You take a step back from him. “I’m not doing that, for fuck’s sake.”
Heeseung just smiles at you. “I think you should.”
“Yeah? Why?”
“Either you wear this, or make you pay your share of the rent.” Heeseung leans towards you, and you can smell his fruity, sickly breath. “The choice is yours, of course.”
“You’re insane,” you say, leaning away from him.
“Whatever. Now get in the maid outfit.”
Tears well in your eyes as you head to your room to don the most humiliating outfit you’ve ever seen. When you put the bra and panties on, his cum oozes out of them and drips onto the floor.  The maid outfit is sticky all over, and you shiver. You don’t even look yourself in the mirror before leaving your room to see Heeseung again. His hand is already wrapped around his dick by the time you walk out, his boxers resting around his ankles.
“Wait, wait,” Heeseung says, holding up his free hand. “Don’t walk to me. Crawl to me.”
The humiliation forces your head down as you sink to your hands and knees and crawl towards Heeseung. When he sees you at his feet, Heeseung smiles, still stroking his cock. “Such a cute little maid,” he says. “Now get up on your knees, come on. Be good.”
You prop yourself up on your knees, so that you’re level with his crotch. “Now,” he says softly, “open wide.”
You close your eyes, open your mouth, and Heeseung slides his cock into your mouth. When he does, he moans loudly, and he grabs at your hair. Heeseung fucks your mouth like it’s a pussy, and the musty state of his cock makes you gag the entire time. His balls slap against your face, and he keeps whimpering pathetically. His other hand reaches down and squeezes one tit after the other, and within no time he’s pulling his cock out of your mouth, tugging it hurriedly, and finishing all over your face. He tugs his boxers up to his waist again and sighs. “That was great,” he says, affectionately ruffling your hair. “Whenever you’re ready, you can come inside my room and tidy it up. I know it bothers you that I’m so messy…”
Your jaw is too sore to speak, and for a moment you just lie there on the floor in the hallway. None of it seems real, none of it makes sense to you. The worst part of it all is that you can feel wetness pooling in between your thighs, which makes you groan softly.
A little while later, Heeseung emerges from his room. He crouches down and strokes your hair. “You want me to get you something?” he asks soothingly. “Some water, juice?”
“Water would be nice.” You cough a few times. Heeseung gets up and comes back shortly with a bottle of water that he opens for you. You pull yourself up so that you’re sitting, legs crossed, and you drink the water while Heeseung pats your hair comfortingly. Once you calm down, you and Heeseung head inside of his room.
It’s disgusting, which is an understatement. The bed is unmade and piled with stained pillows, the floor is spattered with cum, his bookshelf is a horrid mishmash of coding textbooks and manga, his closet is filled with clothes, of which only half are on hangers. His desk area is relatively clean, but one of his three monitors is playing some filthy pornography. The other has Discord open, and the third has some weird game you don’t recognize open. Worst of all is the pocket pussy resting on his gaming chair.
You sigh. Seems like you have a lot of work to do.
--
Over the next few months, you start to realize that Heeseung is treating you like a pseudo-girlfriend. He changes your contract so that he pays for virtually all of the rent, as well as the groceries. He even gives you a hefty monthly allowance, enough that you can start building up your savings.
Of course, you doubt that a regular boyfriend would treat you the way Heeseung does. For one, ever since you cleaned his room the first time, he expects you to clean it every day while donning a humiliating outfit of his choosing. He likes to have you walk around in the apartment wearing striped microkinis, plaid skirts with black G-strings, nurse costumes, maid outfits, and an elaborate swimsuit cosplay of his favorite League of Legends character. He’ll watch you as you clean his room clad in whatever skimpy outfit he’s gifted you, commenting on your body. Other times, he’ll come up behind you as you’re in the kitchen or living room and grope your ass or tits before wandering back to his cave. That’s what he does on a regular basis.
Lately, he’s been fucking you. It started when you were eating a bowl of cereal before heading off to work. You had heard his room door creak open, then his dragging, lumbering footsteps.
“Good morning,” he had whispered, placing his hands on your shoulders. “You’ve got a little something…”
Before you could say anything, Heeseung had licked the tip of his finger and swiped up the bit of milk lingering by the corner of your mouth. He stuck his finger into his mouth, still hovering over you. Every time you took a bite of cereal, trying to finish up as quickly as you could, he would wipe your face and then suck the milk off of his fingers. His other hand rested on your shoulder, rubbing it slightly, until it slid down lower and lower. As he ran his thumb against the corner of your mouth, he slowly began groping your breasts. Heeseung pressed his lips against yours, both of his hands fondling you.
You had pulled your lips away. “Stop. I just ironed this shirt…”
“Sorry,” he had said, buttoning your shirt from behind. As soon as it was sufficiently open, he groped your tits directly, his lips on yours. He had a greedy, selfish way of kissing you; his tongue would slither down your throat, gagging you. Heeseung had unbuttoned the rest of your shirt, then he pushed your cereal to the side. He pushed you down onto the dining table, your chest pressing against the wood. You could feel his hands tugging your damp panties to the side.
“Such a nice pussy,” he had murmured. You heard him spit, then you felt cool fingers pumping themselves in and out of you. You bit your lip so you couldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan. Heeseung only prepped you just enough to get you wet, then he stuffed himself inside of you, inch by inch.
Your hands curled, desperately trying to find any purchase. It had been a long time since you had anything inside of you, and you welcomed the pleasure. But you couldn’t let Heeseung know that.
His gnarled fingernails dug into your soft flesh as he pounded away at you. He wasn’t particularly vocal, only making soft moans of pleasure. Sometimes, he would drag himself out of you, then slam back inside. He smacked your ass. “Just look at that shit jiggle,” he said breathlessly. “I want to try that out next…”
With that, he had slid his fingers into your tight hole, and you couldn’t hold back a gasp. Heeseung pumped his fingers in and out of the band of muscle, widening it. You had never taken anything up your ass before, and your toes curled in fear and anticipation.
You felt him slip out of your pussy, and the painful stretch of his cock opening your asshole replaced the pleasure you had previously felt. Heeseung groaned as he fucked your ass raw, only the precum that had dribbled from his cock for lube. Fortunately, he didn’t last, pumping your ass full with hot cum before pulling out of you. “Your pussy is definitely better,” he had muttered before walking away. While you rested against the table, trying to recollect yourself, you heard him booting up another game of League of Legends. With a palpable sense of shame, you finished yourself off right there as your cheek pressed against the table, your fingers wildly swirling against your engorged clit. You came with a shudder, then you darted into the bathroom to clean yourself up and go to work.
He never fucked your ass again, but your pussy and mouth were fair game for him. Whenever he sees you now, wearing the outfits he picks for you, he shoves his fingers down your throat. Once your throat is pliant and his fingers are coated in your spit, he either make you blow him or he fingers you wherever you are, his other hand stroking all over your body. Then he goes back into his room while you’re there, dripping wet. Heeseung likes having you wet all the time, so he can fuck you at his convenience.
Like right now, he was playing another game of Overwatch, hunched over his controller and eyes laser-focused on the screen. You were on your hands and knees, pushing yourself back and forth on his dick. This time, he had made you wear a cow-print bikini, complete with a bell; every time you fucked yourself on his cock, it would jingle.
“Fuck,” Heeseung says, voice ragged, “my team’s Tracer is so shit at kiting. It’s such a basic concept.”
“That really sucks,” you say through gritted teeth.
Heeseung reaches his hand out and touches your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your lips. “You’re such a good listener,” he coos, lazily thrusting as he removes his hand and continues playing his game. He soon stops moving, and you have to pick up his slack, rocking yourself as fast as you can so he can cum and be done with it. “Ah, stop going so fast,” Heeseung says, lightly slapping your ass. “I want to sync my nut up for when I use my ultimate.”
As you heed his instructions, you squeeze your eyes shut and tell yourself that homelessness is a far worse prospect than this, homelessness is bad, you wouldn’t like a homeless shelter.
It wasn’t like he didn’t jerk off anymore, either. He did, maybe even more than before he started using you. Heeseung liked to spread his legs, milk his cock right in front of you, then lick up the cum off of the couch while he told you to play with yourself. Whenever you got close to cumming, he would tell you to stop and do some task for him. Then, when you were scrubbing the dishes or wiping down his desk, he would plunge his cock into you and fuck you until you were twitching and crying out. Other times, he would make you sit in his room with him. He would sit you on his lap while he watched some degenerate hentai, and he would make you jerk him off while he fondled your tits and rubbed your clit.
Once, you went to bed early because you had a hard day at work. Your dream is odd; you’re running from a ghost in a dilapidated mansion. You can’t see it, but you can feel its presence. Then you feel it catch you, its hands wrapping around your waist, your tits. The ghost rubs your body slowly, almost tenderly, and you can feel its hardness pressing against your ass as you’re suspended in the air.
When you open your eyes, you realize that it wasn’t a dream, not quite. There is a hand that has slipped under your shirt, caressing your chest, and another hand on your waist. And someone is humping you, whimpering as he does. Quite belatedly, you realize that your pajama pants have been pulled down.
“Heeseung?” you whisper sleepily.
“Shh,” he says, “just go back to sleep, okay? I’ll be done soon.”
You’re too tired from everything to fight it, so your eyes flutter shut. Heeseung slowly thrusts into you, almost like he doesn’t want to wake you, and you smile slightly at the sentiment. He fucks you lazily and slowly, and only speeds up when he’s about to cum. He cums inside of you and uses his fingers to push his seed back up.
“Thanks for letting me do that,” he whispers before leaving you alone.
As you’re drifting to sleep again, you can hear him telling someone to, “Fucking stop camping.”
This is still better than being homeless.
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bet-on-me-13 · 11 months
Text
Danny is the Crazy Old Man™️ of Gotham
So, the events of Danny Phantom happened decades ago
Like, Phantom Planet was one of the first instances of Superheroes in HISTORY. Early 1900's, just the Fentons were Insanely Ahead of their Time!
Danny is still a Halfa, but has allowed himself to grow old and live his best life before fully dying so he can accept his Throne in the Infinite Realms. He decides to experience Life in the fullest way possible, partying, drinking, making long lasting friendships that shape the lives of everybody he meets, all that!
Eventually, Danny's Party Life leads him to Gotham. And this place is just amazing!
It has all the comforts of Home, with so much more! He can Party! He can Fight! He can do anything he wants and nobody bats an eye, because a crazy old man getting into a fistfight in the middle of the road is just another Tuesday for Gotham!
He decides to spend the rest of his Mortal Life there. And this is still Early On in the DC Timeline, like, Batman Year 1 is happening Right Now.
He hangs around, befriends the local Homeless Population, and mostly just has the time of his Life! And he takes up the stereotypical Homeless Old Man look because why fight it? That's literally what he's going for!
He also unintentionally sets up a bunch of future events
He teaches Kid!Jason on his to steal Tires as repayment for driving off some muggers with a Baseball Bat (honestly he was looking forward to being mugged, it's a new experience after all)
He pulls Kid!Tim into an Alley after Tim gets caught out at night and gets chased by some Punks. He hides Tim behind a Dumpster and tricks the Punks into mugging him instead (Yay! He finally got mugged!)
He becomes kind of well known as the Old Man who wants to experience everything before he dies. He says as much too, not like he really has a reason to hide it. He just tells people "I want to live my life to the fullest, it don't matter if I live 10 more years or 10 more minutes, I'm gonna experience every second of it!"
He once walked into a Cloud of Fear Gas to see what it was like. Later he said it was a 6/10. "Not the worst thing I've had injected into my body!" He says with no Context.
He traded places with a Hostage during an active Crime Scene because he wanted to know what it's like.
He was once dared to take Batmans Utility Belt by another Homeless Guy as a joke, so he walked up to Batman later that night in full view of everybody else and just asked for his Belt. He gives up after a few minutes, and one guy asked "Why not fight him for it? It's an experience after all.". Danny replys "Nah, I've fought Vigilantes before. It was fun though, gotta say!"
...
This got away from me, but all this to say: Imagine the Bat Families Reaction when they find out "Crazy Old Danny" is PHANTOM. You know, THE FIRST SUPERHERO!
I imagine Constantine is having a stroll though Gotham after finishing up some business with Bruce, and just bumps into a homeless guy by accident.
Later that night:
Batman: Constantine, Why are you calling? Is it to do with the-
Constantine: Why the fuck is there a Homeless God in your City?
Batman: Wait wha-
...
Or imagine they know before Constantine meets him, and it goes instead like this
Constantine: Why the fuck is there a Homeless God in your City?!
Batman: You mean Old Man Danny? He's just a homeless guy? What do you mean?
Constantine: I swear on what's left of my Soul, that is a God.
Batman, a little shit: I don't think so, I would know (fully knows)
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bkgml · 5 months
Note
please we need more ex!Bakugo it’s just too good
also i’m obsessed with the way you write😫
ily for suggesting this I LOVEEEEE a good ex boyfie bkg
thinking this is kinda sad 😝
“sero?” you ask, you were washing your dishes when you got the call.
“yn, hey! have you seen bakugou? we all went out drinking and he wandered off.”
your eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“uh no i haven’t. why do you ask?” you ask.
you hear a couple laughs from the squad in the background.
“he was just talking about you before he left. had a little too much to drink.” he explains while trying not to giggle.
‘katsuki hates being drunk’ the voice in your head reminds you.
you sigh, drying your hands and grabbing your car keys from the counter.
“sero, i’m gonna look around for him, okay? you guys are too drunk.” you reason, twisting the handle on your front door.
“mkay, thanks ynnn.” sero says and you can hear his grin.
you’re about to hang up when you open your door.
katsuki’s sitting against the hallway of your building, knees to his chest with a defeated look on his face.
“sero? i found him.” you whisper and katsukis eyes shift to your face.
“no way! thanks yn.” he cheers from the other end.
“i’ll get him home, see you soon.” you say and end the call, sliding your phone into your back pocket.
“can’t go home.” katsuki whispers softly.
your brows furrow.
“what do you mean bakugou?” he winces at the name.
he doesn’t respond, just keeps looking at you.
“okay, come on.” you say, helping him up.
he grabs onto your hands until he’s upright and feels your hands slip from his grip.
he sighs with a slight whine in his tone.
you don’t pay attention.
“yn.” he calls, first name.
“let’s get you on the couch.” you mumble, pushing him gently to lay back.
he lays on his back and you can see on his face he’s itching to touch you. you know that look.
but he’s just drunk.
you turn to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and watch the water flow into the glass.
you don’t hear him come up behind you, but you feel his warmth before you feel his touch.
“bakugou..” you frown, feeling his chin on your shoulder.
“not my name.” he whispers, turning his face to push it into your neck.
you grip the glass and forcefully shut off the water, attempting to calm your breathing.
he’s drunk. he’s not trying to make you irritated. he doesn’t know what he’s doing. he doesn’t want you.
those words repeat in your mind like a chant. hopefully they’ll stop you from doing something you’ll regret, kissing him, holding him, telling him you still love him.
he’s sliding his hands up and down your sides and you want to melt into him, but you can’t.
“drink this.” you say sternly, turning in his grip.
he frowns at you, removing his hands from your waist and drinking.
you cross your arms over your chest when the glass is removed from your grip. watching his adam’s apple bob up and down as he drinks, you sigh in hopes it’ll help sober him up.
when he finishes the glass you grab it from him and refill it once more.
he doesn’t touch you.
you don’t know if you’re happy or sad about that but it becomes an afterthought as the glass fills.
shutting off the water you turn and walk into the living room, setting the full glass on your coffee table.
“katsuki come on.” you call to him.
he walks in shyly and moves to stand in front of you.
“you can sleep on the couch. i’m too tired to drive you home tonight.” you say and he nods.
he sits on the arm rest and starts sipping from the cup while you turn and walk in the opposite direction.
he catches your wrist.
“where are you going?” he asks with his eyes soft.
you smile fondly.
“to get you blankets and pillows.” you say, turning to walk to the cupboard as your hand falls from his grip.
you grab as many extra sheets as you can plus two pillows and hand them to katsuki.
he takes them, fingers lingering on your hands before pulling them out of your grip.
“goodnight, bakugou.” you say and he frowns.
you laugh, turning on your heels to head in the direction of your bedroom.
as you get ready for bed your frown grows deeper and deeper while you reminisce on your relationship with katsuki.
the commission ruined your relationship. giving him mission on top of mission with the promise of being the number one hero.
your fists clench as you think about how hard he worked, how hard he still works, yet they still haven’t given him the spot he deserves.
shutting your water off with a huff, you slam your toothbrush back into its holder and turn on your heels.
climbing into bed you try and keep your brows furrowed and your fists clenched because you know if you lose the anger simmering in your blood, you’re going to break down.
katsuki’s body is so so tired, but his brain just wants to cuddle up beside you. it’s hard enough to fall asleep without you but now your only separation are the thin walls of your apartment.
he frowns, he’s still a little drunk, but at least he has a sense of himself now.
“fucking… tape face..” he groans, throwing the sheets off and stumbling to your bedroom.
“..making me- fuck. making me drink.” he opens your door as slowly as he can and his eyes settle on your sleeping body.
his face turns soft and he shuffles closer to your bed, looking at your sleeping face. your pouted lips, your soft breaths, your feathered eyelashes.
he drags his hand down your face softly and you sigh, inching closer to his warmth.
“hi baby.” he whispers, lifting the covers and climbing in.
you let out a small whine at the chill let into your blankets.
“i know, ‘m sorry.” he says, kissing your forehead.
“kats.” you whisper, eyes fluttering.
“i know, i shouldn’t be here.” he says sadly.
your eyes open and you’re looking at your ex boyfriend.
“i want you.” you whimper, tears welling up in your eyes.
he nods, opening his arms and you fall into them.
you rub your nose into his chest, running it up to his neck and placing sweet kisses there.
“stay with me.”
he looks down at you, your words stunning him.
“but the commission- i thought you said-” he stammers.
“i don’t care about the commission katsuki. i care about you. i want you.” you hope he understands.
he nods, blinking harshly to clear the tears out of his eyes.
he cups your cheek with a shaky hand, brushing his thumb over your nose.
you laugh, leaning your forehead against his.
“baby can i?” he whispers fast.
you answer with the press of your lips against his, sighing against him.
he melts, pulling you closer and threading his fingers through your hair.
“you should listen to sero more often.” you pant.
“shut up.” he grumbles, kissing you hard.
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months
Text
Haruta seeking revenge on Nanami's heavy pregnant wife
Tumblr media
Pairing: husband!Nanami x fem!reader
Word Count: 2,1k
Synopsis: When Haruta hears about Nanami's wife, he is more than delighted to search and kill her. He didn't think about (y/n)'s very own abilities and her furious husband though.
Warnings: injury, language, pregnancy, really angry hot Nanami, not 100% proofread as I have to get going now and won't be able to publish this today otherwise
Tags: @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @dazaisdick @sanicsmut @arehzhera @mynahx3 @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @wifenanami @arehzhera @mysuperrainbow @nanami-s-sunshine @nervoussongcherryblossom
You.
His heart almost beats out of his chest just thinking about the things these creatures are able to do. You live here, at Shibuya. When Nanami received the call about what is going on here, he instructed you to stay home with all doors closed. After all, you are heavy pregnant with his child. Despite being a great jujutsu sorcerer, you shouldn’t be on the streets right now. No harm should ever come to you.
But right now, you aren’t replying to any messages your husband sends you, not a single sign of life.
He yanks the blonde-haired man up by his ponytails, on the brick of losing his temper completely. Not only did this thing kill countless of his comrades on its way, but maybe him and his comrades did something to you. Why would you not reply to his countless messages? If they hurt a single hair on your precious body…
Nanami slams him into a nearby building with full force. Despite the abilities of that man, he won’t be able to survive that.
“Did you receive any sign from (y/n)?”, Nanami questions towards the two girls, kneeling in front of Nitta to inspect her wounds.
They might look bad, but she’ll survive if she sees Shoko within the next hours.
“No. No sign at all”, Nitta mumbles.
Everyone knows about the value you hold for Kento Nanami. No wonder, after all you are his precious wife, the only human being on this earth who is able to make his features soften and steal a smile from him. Yes, you are truly special to him. And the fact that you are not replying…Nobara swallows, the look on his face sending shivers down her spine. You should have been evacuated, out of Shibuya, maybe staying at Jujutsu High as long as the fight goes on. But it was already too late, it would be way too dangerous to leave now.
“What is going on?”, he mutters to himself.
“I’m sure your wife is fine. She’s tough, someone like that loser wouldn’t be able to bring her down.”
His eyes dart towards Nobara. Yes, she’s right. You have to home. Maybe you just fell asleep. The pregnancy made you tired all the time. Probably you’re laying on the couch, the chaos around you completely unnoticed. Yes, that’s how it must be.
“I am sure he wasn’t alone. Maybe someone found one of his accomplices. It’s best we bring them down before they cause more trouble. ”
Nanami strictly forbid you to go out on the streets. And that’s what you do, laying on the couch with the blanket your precious husband wrapped you in pulled up to the nose. You just woke up from a heavy sleep, lifting yourself up just a bit to look out of the window.
“What is going on down there?” you mutter to yourself.
Please, let Kento be alright. He promised to return to you, that nothing major will happen. Oh, how much you wished you could help. Your hands caress your swollen belly softly. Fighting is no option at the moment, though. All you can do is say here in safety until they successfully exorcised all courses around Shibuya. You sign to yourself, lids already hanging so low that you are on the brick of passing out again. After this nap, you’ll definitely call him.
“Still no sign…”, Nanami mumbles, the only response being your angelic voice which directs him to your mailbox.
“Maybe she’s just sleeping, after all (y/n) is pregnant, right? Would you like to call someone to look after her? Your shared apartment is only two blocks away, right?”, Nitta suggests.
“I can look after her!” Nobara interjects immediately.
“No, that wouldn’t be wise. We still have to look after the other assistance directors. There’s no way he worked alone. When the area is safe, I will go and look after her myself”, Nanami responses before putting his phone back.
You always sleep around this time. Surely everything is alright. After all, no one knows where he lives…right?
Haruta smiles to himself, body not moving an inch before the steps of his three opponents are gone.
“Your pregnant wife, huh? So killing her counts as a double kill, how exciting!”
-at your apartment-
Your eyes snap open immediately. The energy around you completely changed. What you feel here…Your whole body is tense, hands clenched into fists. That’s cursed energy, without any doubt.
As fast as possible you lift yourself off the couch, grabbing your throwing knives placed underneath the couch. When Kento got the call, you knew this has to be something big, that you might not be safe at Shibuya anymore.
“I know how much I’m asking from you, but please stay here and lock the door. At this point it would be even more dangerous to leave. Promise that you’ll be careful, sweetheart.”
Your husband wrapped his arms tightly around you, careful not to squeeze your sensitive belly in the process.
“I know my limits, Kento. I would never risk the life of our child for a fight. As much as I’d love to help you out, I will stay here until you tell me it’s over”, you assured him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips before he left your apartment with one last loving look back.
Kento. You should give him a call, at least message him about what you feel. As fast as possible you type his number, eyes darted towards the entrance. There isn’t much time left, whatever is on its way here will soon arrive.
“(y/n), I was dead worried about you. Are you alright?”
“Someone’s here. Someone with heavy cursed energy, Kento. I will do what I can, but-“
“Did you really think a locked door would be enough to keep your enemies out of here? Oh, look at you, congrats for putting a baby inside you! That was that blonde-haired man, wasn’t it? Y’know, I’m here because of him, so better be thankful. Come on, don’t look at me like that, let me give you a hug.”
Instinctively, you let your phone fall to the ground, your throwing knives leaving your fingertips at horrendous speed. As fast as possible you seek shelter behind your couch, escaping his blade just in time before he’s able to pierce through your shoulder.
Normally, you would have been able to dodge his attack easily, but with that heavy belly of yours, every sudden movement feels like a burden. You depend on your husband’s help, that’s for sure. The man with the blonde ponytail and ruptured face might not be an impossible strong opponent, but you are restricted. And one single hit might not only mean that he hurts you, but also your unborn baby…
You furrow your brows, eyes busy analysing his moves.
“You know who’s responsible for how wrecked up my face looks? Your husband! He even pulled my hair”, the man in front of you cries out, sword just about to hit you when you escape his force just in time.
“I get it, you have a really kickable face after all”, you press out, grabbing your katana under the kitchen table to dodge his attack.
You huff heavily, lungs feeling as if they’ll burst every minute while you taste blood on your tongue. Fuck, this is more strenuous than expected. Your baby kicks you uncomfortably in your guts, making you see stars for a second. A second in which he is able to place another hit, a second in which he is able to brush over your forehead with enough force to make your skin burst.
All you see is red, blood taking your sight almost completely. With a swift motion you try to wipe it away, try to get a hold of yourself. But before you are even able to breathe again, he forces his blade against yours.
“He’s already on his way, I would shit my pants if I was you”, you hiss through gritted teeth, jumping onto the table in order to have the higher ground.
You feel so damn tired. The heavy weight on your belly, the fact that you have to pee again and that you haven’t trained in ages. You aren’t dumb, you are very aware of the fact that you are fucked right now. But you know Kento heard you, that he is already on his way. You just have to fight back a little while longer…
“Oh, don’t worry about me”, he casually replies.
You stare at his empty hands, eyes wide open in horror. Where the hell did his sword go? Did he lose it while the both of you were fighting? No, you didn’t hit him so hard, this can’t be. But where-
A toe-curling scream escapes your lips when a scorching pain runs through your left thigh. You don’t dare to look don’t, this just has to be his blade.
“How?” you breathe out.
Calm your breathing, calm your pounding heart. You have to keep going, you have to-
Suddenly your shoulder bursts open, blood spilling over your husband’s shirt. You can’t breathe, whole body on fire. His sword, it’s still stuck in your shoulder. Just when it’s about to move out again, you grab the blade with your naked hands to stop it from piercing through you again, your sharp and fast breaths hanging in the air.
“Come on, why stop now when it’s getting funny? I was aiming for your fat belly next”, the guy in front of you complains with a pout.
Blood rushes through your ears, glossy eyes fixated on him in front of you.
“But fine, if you want it that way, I will use my own hands.”
Fuck, what are you supposed to do? If you let go of the sword that cuts through your palms, he will stab your unborn child. But if you lay here and do nothing, he will punch your belly with full force. You have to make a decision, you have to save your unborn child, the child you and Kento awaited for years now. The look on his face when he found out, the tears of joy that pooled his eyes…
You can’t die here. And so does your child.
With the last force you have left in your body, you kick his chest while still holding onto his sword tightly. Fuck, every movement hurts like hell, your blood spilled on the carpet you bought a few weeks ago. You can’t do this any longer, you need to get out of here, you-
“You have some nerves.”
His sheer presence is enough to make the man in front of you stop in his tracks.
“Kento…”, you mumble, wave of relief washing over you.
He’s here, your knight in shining armour, your loving husband. You did it. You held on just long enough.
“Didn’t you learn your lesson by now. Didn’t I teach you what you get for the things you do?”
His whole body is tense, the muscles underneath his shirt to tight that they might burst every minute. Kento grabs the neck of the man who attacked you earlier with full force, dragging him across the room.
“Give up and die already”, Kento hisses.
Tears start to pool this man’s eyes, staring at your husband with wide eyes while he throws him through the bursting window, down onto the streets of Shibuya, over 10 floors.
Without hesitation he hurries to your side, hand gently cupping your cheek. The threatful man from only seconds ago is gone in the wind. What is left is your loving husband who caresses your belly softly, lines of worry decorating his face while scanning over your bloody body.
“Don’t worry, this is nothing Shoko can’t fix. The…the baby is fine…”, you huff out.
“I’m so sorry sweetheart. I thought he was dead already, never did I imagine that…”
“Don’t think about it too much, Kento. This is in no way your fault. The most important thing is that the baby is fine. That’s all that matters.”
“But you matter too, (y/n). You are the love of my life. When you called me and I heard his voice, a part of me died. That he was able to injure you, that he put his hands on your delicate skin…I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I love you so much…”
Carefully, he wraps his arms around you and lifts your trembling figure off the ground.
“I love you too. But you have to admit I did pretty well”, you mutter against his chest.
“You definitely did. You are my wife, after all”, Kento replies with a small smile, carrying you to Shoko.
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withleeknow · 27 days
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how he would take care of you during shark week. ⤷ chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / seungmin / jeongin
pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, lil fluff, lil angst, mentions of physical pain bc it's shark week and we're cramping lol ok, unedited bc i wrote this a couple months ago and i just wanted to post smth today and i'm currently half asleep word count: 0.4k
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi
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minho comes home to a quiet house, four of his favorite beings nowhere to be found. he takes off his shoes, hangs up his jacket, put his keys where he can easily fetch them the next morning, and ventures into the living room. though, he soon stops in his tracks when his eyes find the couch situated in the middle of the room.
there’s a human-sized lump completely hidden under a fleece blanket on the cream-colored sofa, surrounded by soonie, doongie, and dori, all curled up and sleeping peacefully.
doesn’t take a genius to figure out what the lump is.
you, his love.
minho approaches the couch with careful footsteps and a pretty good guess as to why you’ve resorted to being a lump for the day. the tracker app on his phone did notify him that it should happen any day now.
when he sits down by your feet, soonie shoots up with a hiss before calming down immediately afterward, upon the realization that it's just his other owner.
“hey,” minho calls softly, placing a hand on your leg. “you sleeping?”
there’s a grunt, then the lump moves. he assumes it’s you shaking your head under there.
“does it hurt?” he asks.
the lump shifts again - a nod, he thinks - but this time, it’s accompanied by a softer sound, nearly a whimper.
he sighs, because he hates to see you in pain. hates that this helpless feeling has become a monthly visitor in your home. the first two days are often the worst for you.
“i’ll be right back,” he says, and again, he doesn’t get anything other than an incoherent noise, but it’s not like he was expecting a verbal response anyway.
minho returns a few minutes later with all of the essentials that you were in too much discomfort to get yourself. your trusty heating pad, a glass of warm water and pills, your favorite mango almond chocolate, a fluffy pillow so your neck doesn’t hurt from lying on the couch for too long.
peeling the blanket off so that he can prop the pillow under your head and give you the heating pad, he practically winces when he sees the pained expression on your face. you open your eyes to find him, and you look like you're close to crying. this month must be worse than usual.
“i’ll make you something to eat and then you can take your painkillers,” he tells you.
“thank you.” the words come out weak, but minho knows you mean them.
soft lips press themselves against your forehead, full of love and an unspoken i wish i could do more for you.
“i love you. give me twenty minutes, okay?”
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permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki @astronomicallyyy @alm334 @lashaemorow (italicized = can’t tag)
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 02.04.2024]
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luveline · 7 months
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oooh! just had an idea!!! bombshell reader x spencer where he comes over to her apartment one day on the weekend to suprise her with breakfast/flowers bc they just started dating. however, bombshell is in sweats/no makeup/messy hair when she answers but when she sees its spencer, she FLIPS out/slams the door bc she doesnt want him to see her in that state. spencer, however, is confused ofc because he genuinely doesnt notice her outfit/lack of makeup and thinks she is gorgeous no matter what.
hope this is ok ♡ fem, 1.1k
The song starts slow and ends slower. You could picture Spencer listening to it, his head on your shoulder or yours on his, wired earphones shared between you. 
You grab a pencil to jot a quick post-it note so you'll remember, one knee on your desk chair. You don't want to sit down with the shower running in case you get distracted by your new photo frame.
You and Spencer took a photo to commemorate finally getting together. Or rather, Hotch did, standing behind the camera with an impossible mixture of fondness and disapproval. You look like a true couple with matching graphic t-shirts and beaming smiles, Spencer's arm over your shoulders and yours behind his back. You can't see it without staring; you use all your strength to ignore the photo, pulling your post-it from its pad and tacking the yellow square to your vanity. Tell Spencer about love song from Ocean Boulavard. 
The door to your apartment rings with a knock. If you weren't distracted in your losing don't-think-about-Spencer battle, you'd recognise the timid pattern of it. 
You've been expecting a parcel all weekend. 
"Coming!" you call, tugging a sweater over your vest top, plaid pyjama pants dragging against the floor as you make your way out of your bedroom and into the main living area. "Two seconds!" 
You give yourself a precursory glance in the mirror next to the door before you answer it. You'd never go out like this, but the delivery driver won't see you long. You're mostly clean and fully dressed, though your socks don't match. 
That's another thing to tell Spencer. He must be rubbing off on you. 
"Hello," you say cheerily, pulling the door open with a smile. 
"Hi," Spencer says, big brown eyes aglow at the sight of you, his hands full to bursting. There are enough things in his hands to hide his chest completely. 
You don't have a chance to decipher exactly what he's brought as you flinch behind the cover of the door, not cruel enough to close it in his face, but wanting to. "Spencer! What are you doing here?" 
"Well, you live here." 
His hand comes up tentatively near yours on the door. He doesn't push it further in or attempt to come inside. He might have, if you hadn't squeaked in warning, biting down on the soft inside of your cheek. 
"Is everything okay?" he asks.
"Everything is fine!" You squeeze your eyes closed, your pulse a hummingbird hammering between them. 
"Really?" Spencer asks, taking back his hand. "Can I–"
There's a shuffling sound like he might step forward, and that's the last straw, you're fully panicking as you slam it closed.
A too long silence. Your breath comes unnaturally quickly, your thoughts racing to match. I can't believe I just did that. Why did I do that? 
What do I do? 
"Spencer, I'm naked," you say. 
"You were definitely wearing clothes. What's wrong? I brought breakfast, I thought I'd surprise you. I texted you. When you didn't answer I figured maybe you were still sleeping after last night, but… now I'm thinking maybe I read that wrong."
"You didn't read it wrong! You can always come over!" you insist, looking around behind you as if you might suddenly find a full face of makeup hiding in your sideboard, or a fresh change of clothes hanging on the coat hooks. 
"Okay, so, can I come in?" 
You poke at the sore bit of skin in your cheek with a wince. "Spence, I'm not dressed. Like, I'm not ready. I look like a mess." 
"You looked beautiful. For the two seconds that I could see your face, at least." You breathe in uselessly. An answer doesn't present itself. Spencer offers some wisdom while you panic, but you aren't sure you want to hear it. "We're dating, right? So as much as you clearly don't want me to see you like this, it's gonna happen. Hopefully regularly?" He laughs lightly on the other side of the door. "Can I please come in?" 
Nerves gnaw at your fingers, uncomfortable pins and needles. "What if you don't like it as much?" you ask quietly. You're surprised he can hear you. 
"Do you trust me?"
What sort of question is that? This isn't about trust. This is about you, an image of yourself you hold and that you want others to share, it's why you dress as you do, why you wear your intricate hairstyles, and spend hours upon hours priming and primping.
You want to be pretty deeply, especially in Spencer's eyes. Do you trust him to find you pretty still, without all the extra effort? Pretty from the moment you wake up? 
You wait for the verdict as you open the door again. The handle clicks and lugs, the hinge whining as it swings inward. You step backward to allow him space, meeting Spencer's eyes with an insecurity that doesn't suit you.
He doesn't react at first. His hand tightens around the neck of a sprawling bouquet, wildflowers like a burst of colour against his chest, the long white body of a lily of the valley kissing the curve of his neck. He smells like powdered sugar donuts and the food truck they came from, the story of his obsession a remembered delight. I think of you every time I cross the square to the train station by my place. The warm vanilla smell reminds me of your perfume. But I'm usually already thinking of you. He's been bringing you donuts intermittently for months now. 
He finally smiles at you, all manner of morning warmth flooding the room with him. The sun at his heels, the silky brown colour of his hair, you look up as he steps close, as light silhouettes him, turns the silk to fluff. You can see every detail this close down to the baby flyaways, and he can see the same. 
"How could you think I wouldn't like this?" he asks. His words are hushed with earnestness but yards from hesitant. Spencer is unabashedly, genuinely enamoured with you. "You're so pretty. You always are." 
You beg him silently to hold your face, taking the flowers from his hand. He can read you from that small action alone, raising a deft hand to your cheek. 
You lean into his palm. 
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blkgirl-writing · 8 months
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Hi, I saw your smut requests post and was wondering if you could write one about touch starved Gale finally being alone with reader/Tav and getting his satisfaction? (Yeah, I got inspired by your nsfw headcanons about him, how could you tell?) Please and thank you!
PS Can I be 🧀 anon?
What happened at the moon lit pond
Gale X Fem!Reader
Baldurs gate 3
It’s been, probably three years since I’ve written a full fanfic? I’ll admit I’m probably a little rusty. Thank y’all for hanging in, and I hope this fulfills our nerdy wizard boy needs. thank you so much 🧀 anon for the request! I hope you stay and request some more.
Important tags: lots of pining, some angst (no sad ending), smutty (male and female Masterbation, male giving female oral), spoilers for gales mid game story, romance, Gale is an anxious mess, The thought of gale brushing his hair from his face got me GOING 😩
Word count: 1.9k
(Part 1.5 HERE) (PART 2 HERE)
(Gale headcanons that inspired this here)
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Gale didn’t know how to handle these new feelings for you. He makes a fool of himself everyday, it seems. He always offers you a slice of his bread, even if you gave your own, he saves some of his own morning coffee for you, since he wakes up earlier, and even warm it up for you with a spell.
He simply wanted you to like him. That would be all he needed, but anything else that may follow that would be a true blessing. Gale wanted nothing more than to make you laugh, to see your smile and know he was the reason why, to camp and be the first and last person you’d speak to before sleep.
Gale wouldn’t let his mind wander much past that, or he tried to not let it. The occasional dream would slip through where you were his, and he was yours. It simply put him in panic mode In the waking hours, trying to not be obvious, scared you’d find out, what exactly? He wasn’t sure. You were too kind to break his heart so effortlessly, like he feared you would.
Endless scenarios danced in gales head of rejection, humiliation, and what would happen if he let himself go, life he was tasked to do. It wouldn’t take much, to convince him to live. Friendship, a place to call home, even if it was ever moving. Company he could entrust his life to. It was all so appealing. Luring him into life, breathing a new passion into his purpose, one he’d lost many years ago, sometime when he was alone for so many years.
Those thoughts seemed to linger on forever, sweeping over his barely conscious brain to awaken him again, rustling him from what could be a good nights rest. Eventually, Gale decided to just get up and go for a walk.
Camp had been set up in one of the most beautiful places any of you had seen. Waterfalls tinted emerald green, sand fine and shimmering in the light, may it be sun or moon. I’m one of those waterfalls, he found you.
Waist deep in the pond. Skin and hair dripping wet, shining more than usual water would, adding a silver glow to the night. You looked better than a goddess could ever imagine, and still, his eyes never dipped below you shoulders, even though he deeply wanted to look lower. Instead, he stood there, looking like a fucking idiot, gods know how long. Maybe a tree branch snapped, or maybe you finally snapped out of your trance, but your head whipped in his direction, eyes darting across the small beach, only relaxing when you realize only gale stands before you.
“Oh, Gale, it’s just you…” you let out a deep, jagged breath, the anxiety flowing out of your body just as quickly as it racked through it.
“Just? Are you disappointed?” Gale smirked, although his heart raced in his chest, one word and he'd sulk back to camp, but gods he wanted to stay and spend the whole night with you under the stars.
“Far from it, really. I was just thinking about how much you’d enjoy this view if you were here” you tore your eyes away from Gale, focusing on the stars. “I thought it may remind you of waterdeep. You paint a very beautiful picture of home.”
“I can think of a few things much, much more beautiful than Waterdeep,” his voice low, raspier than usual. Easily explained away from the lack of sleep or old sleeping bags, not for what it really was. Deep yearning, wanting, needing.
“I’d love to see them someday, then.”
“We’ll just have to get you a mirror, then,” “All the beauty in the world would reflct
"Gale, I-" You finally looked into his eyes, he wore his heart on his sleeve, at least for a moment. Those puppy eyes, dark bust glistening in the full moonlight, his hair messy from turning in his sleep, he wanted you, in many more ways than one. Gale's emotions could never be that simple, of course.
"Well," you walked towards him, water inching lower and lower, revealing more and more of your body, yet gales eyes stayed on yours. "Why don't you join me for a swim. It's a beautiful night."
"an offer I could not refuse." Gale's face was plastered with that cocky smile, the one that could melt anyone into a puddle in seconds.
He might have been a gentleman and kept his eyes upwards, but you were not so much, Gale untied his robes, gods why were there so many damn layers? It was quite a sight, his little mannerisms that showed more of him to you than he had shown to you. He was nervous, his fingers missing the simple ties frequently, he got annoyed by his hair getting in his eyes, a grimace appearing before he swept his hair behind his ear.
Your eyes lingered on his circle smoke tattoo, his toned arms, his downright massive hands. he was more tan than you realized, To be fair, he's always covered in those loose robes, leaving you to wonder what was underneath. You were more than happy to finally be finding out. But not below the waist.
"Isn't it a bit cold to be this naked?"
"The water is warmer than the air, I promise." You extended a hand out to Gale, even though he was feet away from you. "Come on, Gale from Waterdeep being afraid of some cold water? Sounds redundant."
"You got me there." He finally stepped into the glimmering pond surrounded by rocks and sand, enough to have your own little corner, to lessen the echo if it was needed. The whole camp didn't need to know all of your business. It must've been a magical lake, as both you and Gale noted separately. Unnaturally still, even when you moved freely, small glowing lights pooled at your sides, occasionally bubbling into the air once you leaned against a large, bright rock.
"May I ask what you were doing out here at this hour?" Gale spoke, still much further away from you than he wanted to be,
"Can I not take a mid-night swim?" You raised your brows in a questioning glance his way "A woman needs time to herself. These days and nights have been very stressful."
Gales very audible oh, slipped through the silence. "You don't have to relax alone." His eyes finally gave in to the need, scanning your body with a low moan slipping past his lips. His excitement was immediate, brushing against your lower stomach all the way past your navel.
"You've wanted this." You stated, brushing your hand against his thigh.
"There's plenty of magic around us, I want the Gale right in front of me." You dared to inch even closer, his thigh fully slipping between yours, inches away from touching your pussy. His hands floated inches from your waist, "Let me give you everything"
"Give me everything" With that, Gale's hand grabbed your waist, gently guiding you onto his thigh, motioning your hips down and swaying only him. The sensation sent sparks flying through his body, you were right in front of him, completely bare and rocking with pleasure onto him. Better than any dream he'd thought up, any fantasy that ran through his head even at the most inappropriate of times. Yes even during the throws of battle. Even in hard times like that, he was so drawn to you.
Gales other hand came up to your jawline, tilting your head so he could latch his mouth around your neck. Deep marks left behind while he inches his way in hickeys up your neck, jaw, and finally to your lips. Any semblance of anonymity flew out the window, not a single person could miss what he gave you, artfully placed dark spots painting your skin. "I have never seen such a beautiful being in my life"
"I could say the same about you gale," You said betwixt breathy moans, picking up the pace of your grinding hips against his thigh, his hand on your waist moving between a tight grip on your ass, and a light but so effective caress of your clit. Every time you got so close, his fingers moved, he was teasing you. His cocky smirk felt even through his kiss.
"I want you to come on my mouth." As if he was reading your slightly frustrated thoughts, "I want to taste you in my dreams."
All you could manage was a frantic nod, a mumbled yes, and shakily hoisting yourself up onto a rock that was perfect for gales pretty head to be between your thighs. Gale pushed your thighs apart with one hand, which stayed firmly grabbing onto you. The other sneaked up your thigh, tracing patterns along your skin. "Gale, please," you whispered out of pure desperation. The only warmth coming from your feet still in the water, otherwise your skin exposed to the biting air.
"All you had to do was ask, my lady" Gales fingers easily slid into you, curling up and pumping in and out, while he leaned into your pussy, maintaining eye contact as he placed one kiss just to the right of where you needed him to be. All he needed was to be touched, to touch you. Your legs wrapped around him to get Gale even closer, urging him closer.
"Touch yourself" Barely a whisper, but Gale caught it, and certainly didn't need to be told twice. Secretly, he could cum from this alone, your taste, how soft you were, how loud you could get. It was more than enough to orgasm right there with you, however, that is not exactly how he wanted your first sexual experience to go. His hand clutching your thigh came to his cock, rubbing much faster and harder than he was fingering you. he was eager. He wanted this to last forever, he wanted you to cum again and again and again into his mouth. He wanted his face even more dripping from your juices.
"Gale I can't hold it-" You nearly screamed, his tongue swirling and sucking, lightly biting, it was almost too much. Then, he moaned. A loud, deep moan and that was it. Vibrations running through your body from his mouth. there noise that left your mouth could've been heard across Baldurs gate, you silently thanked this magical pound for being so secluded, as you would be borderline embarrassed if people heard. Gales didn't come back up for hair until he was sure you were finished, getting every last drop of you.
"You certainly are loud" Gales tone was so smug it almost made you laugh. You gripped onto his shoulders as he swept you down from the perch, pressing his whole body to yours. After all that, after her definitely came, he was still so hard, and so pressed against you that you couldn't help but gasp. "I want to hear that again."
"Hear what, exactly?" you teased, lifting a finger to trace his chest.
"To hear you cum," his lips dipped down to your ear, slightly nibbling on it, before he rasped "and to feel you on my cock."
-
Part two, here
(Requests Open)
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kimberly-spirits13 · 4 months
Text
Growing Up in the Justice League HC
Purely self indulgence cause I've been on this and idk why so bear with me here
I can just easily romanticize growing up in the Justice League too easily and it would be a problem
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you're brought in at as a baby to be trained by Diana
Apollo brings you to her and tells her that you are an ancient being that regenerates as a new person when you die and this is the form that you have taken. As you get older, you will remember the skills and memories of your past lives but you will have to be raised with someone who can handle you
Diana just loves babies so she had no problem with that
I'd say the league has been established for some time during this point and everyone knows each other's identities in the core group
You grew up in Paris and New York being raised as a mama's child
Bruce is the closest you get to a dad and he does his best
SPOILS YOU ROTTEN
all the Barbies and Legos and whatever toys you'd want as a child
They know that you've been trained as an assassin, wizard, queen, knight, sorceress, scientist, all of these other things that can be traumatic so they just want you to have a great, decent childhood
when you start remember things they begin training you to be a hero
It's like PE and recess all in one since they're really just trying to figure out what you can do
Clark treats you like a fragile piece of glass up until you're a teen cause teenagers confuse him and he just cannot not see you as an innocent beep boppin child sometimes
Barry keeps up with the culture and knows all the songs from your favorite childhood movies and tv shows that you grew up watching on the massive computer in the watch tower when you were up there
will dance to any Barbie song since he knows them all by heart
Hal makes fun of you two but secretly enjoys the movies and is very emotionally invested in Princess and the Pauper and Diamond Castle
Diana and Bruce make sure that you have a great education and training
They are the mature parents of the group and want to make sure you're a functioning member of society
you've got a bag full of grandparents in the Kents, Allans, Princes, Alfred and they all love you to death
Alfred teaches you to make the best tea and gardening, Ma Kent teaches you to quilt and make bread, Pa Kent teaches you how to drive a tractor and farm, Hippolyta teaches you about the Greek gods and ancient cultures and how to ride horses, the Allans would have loads of board games to play and love having you over
Once Young Justice or Teen Titans comes around you don't join since you're officially a Justice League member and get along better with the adults since you were raised by them
That doesn't mean that you don't like or hang out with the kids, it's just that you have better inside jokes with Hal and Barry
When Superboy comes around and the League disappears, you were the only one not taken by the portal since you were helping out some civilians
You knew that Clark wasn't dead and you knew the League was somewhere
What kept you afloat was humor and Kon attached to that since he just needed someone that wasn't insane in his life
you probably won't develop romantic feelings for each other but it's more of a camaraderie since you were both raised in a really unorthodox way
when the league finally comes back, you say it's the happiest day of your life and rant to them that you were the only one who knew they weren't gone but no one understood it
Hal and Barry are known for having a thing for chicken tenders and make sure to instill an addiction in you for chicken tenders
Arthur (Aquaman) really really really likes them too but he doesn't realize it until he comes to the League
Clark would be the one to take you out for ice cream randomly or if you're having a bad day
the mother hen therapist type
You're America's favorite Justice Leaguer and often go viral for in uniform interactions with the League
Dancing with Flash at a Presidential ceremony because the music is too beep boopin good and you can't help but bop around a little bit
Media also loves you as a civilian and it's been suspected that you are the love child between Diana and Bruce since I mean- that would make the most sense
it's a running joke in the league
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aperrywilliams · 1 month
Text
From Now On (Spencer Reid x Pregnant!Reader)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Pregnant!Reader.
Summary: After faking his death for seven months, Spencer is back just to find out you’re eight months pregnant. After the initial commotion and your denial, you both step into the apartment you used to share. Things have changed and you must talk about it.
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort. Talking about gunshots, blood, hospitals, faking death, pregnancy symptoms, potential abortion. If I missed something, let me know.
A/N: I’m back! I don't know for how long, but I needed to do something to fight my writer's block. This story can be read independently, but it is the second part of Seven Months.
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The cab ride to your apartment is mainly silent. Your head is tucked into Spencer's shoulder as he rubs your back from time to time. His nose is buried in your hair, inhaling your scent. God, he had missed it so much. He had missed you so much.
And he missed so much of your life in the past seven months. And that scares the shit out of him.
How would he fit into your life now? Does he have any right after faking his death and not telling you anything?
Rossi and Morgan told him you would understand eventually. That you would forgive him for doing this to you.
And maybe you are really considering. Maybe that’s why you went for him to Derek’s in the middle of the night.
Spencer wants that more than anything, but he feels like he doesn't deserve your forgiveness.
Now you both are in front of your building complex. The one that used to be his too.
Spencer knows the concrete walls are the same, but they don't feel like they are.
It's a strange feeling. A feeling that gets stronger when you open the apartment door.
Stepping inside, he knows this is where he used to live, but it doesn't look the same.
The shelves are no longer full of his books. Gone is his globe and coins collection that usually laid over the desk. There are just a couple of pictures of him with you on the wall. The decoration is different. Did you paint the place? Spencer is almost sure of that because it looks brighter than he remembered.
He's silent, inspecting everything around him. The walls, the bookshelf, the furniture: all changed.
After you take off your coat and hang it on the rack, your eyes follow him.
You know what’s going on. You have known Spencer for so long. Even if you thought you lost him, you still can read him like a book.
“Hope isn’t look too bad. I needed to, you know, make some changes?” you explain, not sure how to put the last months in words. Spencer turns to look at you, guilt written over his face. He knows what your words imply and remorse eats him alive.
“I - I’m sorry,” he mumbles, sure it's not enough to erase the hell you have been through since he were gone. Since they told you he was dead.
“I know.” Your response is short but not because you don’t have things to say. It's because you don’t know how to start. “Uh. Would you like some tea?”
It's the safest path. The one you both usually have taken the times you had fought and then try to speak it off. It's different this time, though.
Spencer hesitates. In other circumstances, he would agree and sit on the couch to talk. But it's late, the day has been a rollercoaster and you are eight months pregnant. He knows you should be sleeping, or resting at the very least.
“Maybe it's better you go to bed? It's late and you must be tired,” he points, nervously fidgeting with his hands, his gaze shifts between your eyes and belly.
“Honestly? I don't think I could sleep tonight even if I try,” you confess, moving to the kitchen to put the kettle.
”I don't think I could sleep either,” he admits, following to the kitchen. He wants to help, but he doesn’t want to look like an intruder in your space. A space that it’s not his anymore. Noticing Spencer doesn't know what to do with himself, you invited him to take a seat on the barstool.
“It will be ready in no time, don’t worry.”
You are the one who endured months of grief from your fiancee, carrying his child, and you are the one comforting him. Spencer thinks it's not fair.
In silence, he looks with raptor fascination at the way you move around the kitchen. It's delicate and calm. You have a glow that captivates him. You don’t realize his gaze until you turn to put the mugs over the counter.
“What?” you question softly.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, eyes entranced in you. You laugh, shaking your head.
“Come on, Spencer. I look like a mess. This belly reaches everything minutes before I can. It's huge! I can barely walk decently. Look at my hair! And my skin. It's sticky all the time.”
As you ramble about why isn’t accurate to call you beautiful, Spencer stands from the stool and rounds the kitchen counter to step in front of you. He wants to reach for your hands that you’re waving in the air to emphasize your point, but refrains. He’s still unsure about initiating physical contact. He rests his hands on the counter and clears his throat.
“I can certainly say it's not the way you are used to feeling. But the way I see you right now? I see beauty, power, and life. It's light what I see on you.”
You don’t know when tears started to roll down your cheeks. But hearing the adoration in Spencer’s words only spurs you to let out your emotions.
“You know my hormones have been doing a number on me, right? You’re not helping,” you complain, chuckling. After handing Spencer his tea, you take yours and walk to the living room.
You carefully sit on the couch and reach for the blanket in the back to cover your lower half. Spencer mimics your actions, sitting as well on the couch, but at a safe distance from you.
A silence envelops the room. Your hand plays with the strands at the end of the blanket, and your eyes scrutiny Spencer’s face. He looks tired, with prominent circles under his eyes, and stubble for days of no shaving.
He is analyzing you too. Even if your eyes denote exhaustion, he can see the strength that makes you look put together despite everything that has been going on.
He can see the protectiveness too. Rubbing your belly in soothing motions, shielding your non-born child from the unknown, the uncertain.
How much he would have given to be the one who could have protected you and the baby from the first minute.
“I guess you have questions,” you prompt. “But I have mine too, so if you don’t mind,” you trail off and Spencer understands what you want. He nods, preparing himself to answer whatever question you have. After a pause to collect your thoughts, you start to speak again.
“What really happened in that warehouse? Why you didn't let me go inside with you?”
You are talking about the day Spencer was shot and beaten for the unsub. The day he ended up at the hospital just to be declared dead hours after.
“I thought if we didn't split we could lose him. We were so close so many times. I thought it was our last chance. It never occurred to me it was a trap. That he wanted me there alone. I just didn't see it,” Spencer swallowed hard, remembering that day. You stayed in silence, waiting for him to continue.
“I heard his voice telling me he had you, and I panicked. So I ran to him. I let my guard down. When I realized he was lying it was too late.”
“But you launched at him. Why didn't you try to stall him first?” You asked, leaving your mug on the coffee table, feeling the suddenly urge to protect yourself with your arms around you. You never talked about what really happened with anyone. Not even to Hotch when he questioned you during the FBI investigation of the incident.
The way Spencer reacted with the unsub is something you never understood. The profile said the unsub was a guy who liked to show off, so trying to incite him to do that while waiting for backup would have been reasonable.
“The way he laughed. Maybe sounds stupid, but- I saw the resolve of an end game, and not like the typical bragging-end game, it was an evil-end game. He had the upper hand and he knew it. If I didn't do something first, he would have gone after you. And I couldn't let that happen. I didn't count on the hidden gun, though. Another mistake,” he breaths out.
You remember like it was yesterday rushing to the warehouse after hearing two gunshots. Once inside you saw Spencer lying on the floor, in a pool of blood.
“You were there and I didn't know what to do,” you recount your side of the story. “It was the worst nightmare. I screamed for help and it felt like an eternity before someone came to us. And your eyes-” You stop for a second, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. “You - you were saying goodbye and I wasn’t ready.”
Your resolve from earlier seems to crumble as you revisit what happened in that warehouse. Tears are now rolling down your cheeks, and you bite your bottom lip to stop their quivering.
Spencer wants to hold you, but he’s afraid of how you would react, so tentatively rests his hand on your knee. You are shaking and he’s worried this conversation could do more harm than good.
“We can stop. You are not feeling okay,” he points out. But despite Spencer's apprehensions, this conversation must happen now.
“I need to get this out of my chest. Please, let me do this. I know you need it too.”
Spencer knows you are right. You both need this.
“Do you remember anything after the shots?” you ask, and Spencer thinks for a moment.
“I remember being there, the sharp pain in the chest and my ribs. But most of it is a blur. I remember seeing you there. Crying. God. I hated seeing you cry. I think you held my hand?”
You nodded. “I was so scared, but with you there, I wasn’t anymore. The last thing I remember it’s the guilt of not saying I love you for the last time. I really thought it was the end for me,” he admits, his own tears blurring his sight.
“It was for me, though,” you mumbled, a sad look in your eyes. “I mean, I still had hopes when you were moved to the hospital, but deep down I knew I shouldn’t have had them. And everything shattered when JJ came to the waiting room and told us you didn't make it.”
A heavy sigh escapes from Spencer’s lips. Neither JJ nor Hotch had told him how they let it know the team he was ‘gone.’
“I can’t even imagine - It was unfair to you. And I know no matter what I say it won’t make it better.”
Your thoughts wander to the moment after you heard JJ saying Spencer was dead.
Disbelief. Pain. Denial.
And then, days of numbness.
“You know. I just shut off. I have some flashbacks. Rossi hugging me; Hotch telling me to take all the time I needed; Morgan crying with me.”
It feels weird to recall those memories as yours, like an alternative universe that turned different at the end.
“Where did you go?” Spencer asks. The thought of you in the apartment alone after that breaks his heart.
“Emily took me to her place because I couldn't put a foot here. I stayed with her for a couple of days. She helped me a lot to get through this,” you recognize. And for that, you will always be grateful to her.
You also tell Spencer about how the whole team helped you to make it through the days. Some kind of relief washes over him knowing you didn't face it alone.
He can’t fathom how difficult it was for you, also knowing you were pregnant. And about that...
“When did you find out?” He asks, eyes darting to your belly. You follow his gaze trajectory and a little smile creps on your face.
“Almost a month later. I was feeling sick all the time. Emily pushed me to get checked. They took blood tests and stuff. When they told me I couldn't believe it. For me, it was a twisted joke,” you admit, hanging your head low.
Spencer dreads asking the next question but you already know what is, so you keep talking.
“Yes. I had thought about it. I didn't feel in a good place to be a mom, Spencer. I barely could make it through the days. And having a baby? Fuck, just thinking about it was too much.”
You tell him about how you cried your eyes out. How lost you felt for days. The doubts about the future, but above everything, the protectiveness that aroused in you once the idea settled. Yeah, you couldn’t keep Spencer safe, but you were determined to save the part of him growing in you.
“And seven months later, here I am. About to give birth to our baby,” you conclude, lovingly rubbing your belly.
“It’s weird, you know?” Spencer begins. “The last time I saw you and now. It feels like I lost time. And I know I lost it. It’s just - I never expected to see things so changed. I don’t know how I fit here. What I’m saying doesn’t make any sense right now-” he trails off, darting his gaze to the fidgeting hands on his lap.
He’s been holding back. You notice. Since you both crossed the threshold he has been afraid of invading your personal space, of touching you. Now it makes sense.
“That's why you have been keeping your distance from me?” you ask. Spencer’s eyes quickly flash to you. Guilt is written on his face.
“What?”
Your gaze soften seeing him so stressed by being caught. It's true the past months have been tough for you, but they have been tough for him too. And to see a before and an after so different probably has him reeling.
“Since we put a foot in this apartment you have kept a safe distance. I’m not judging you, I really don’t. I just want to know what’s on your mind right now,” you explain, shifting on the couch to change your position. With an eight-month belly is difficult to be comfy in any position.
Spencer sighs. There are so many things revolving inside his brain that it’s not easy to put them in words.
“When I woke up in a hospital bed in Bethesda, the first thing I looked for was if you were there. But I was alone. A strange feeling squeezed my chest. For a moment I thought -” he pauses to take a breath. “I thought everything had gone wrong and the unsub had hurt you or the team, or both. I was about to freak out when a marshal came and explained to me what happened.”
Spencer recounts how the agent told him about his new destination and how this assignment was for an undetermined time.
“Since then, not a single day passed without the urge to take a plane and come back. To you. But what if I messed up putting you at risk doing so? It was insane to know I was dead for you and I couldn't do anything to fix it.”
“That's why you wrote the letters?” Spencer nodded. In a notepad, he wrote a letter to you every single day since he landed in Paris. He handed you the notepad at the BAU this afternoon before you stormed out, completely shaken and confused.
“I needed to put in words each day without you. I needed to tell you I was there, even if you never could read it.”
His shaky breath forces him to take some seconds to compose himself. You took that as your cue. Shifting again, you scoot a bit closer to him and reach tentatively for his hand, and he clings to it as if his life depended on it.
“And I’m here right now. And so do you,” you squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I’m as scared as you are, but we need to do something to get through this. If it is something you want to do,” you add. Spencer's glassy eyes find yours.
“It's all I want. Maybe it's hard for me to understand I can’t fix something like this, but I want a chance to make us work again. I know I can’t get back time, but if you let me I want to gain back the place I lost the day I gone.”
Spencer’s free hand flies to your cheek to wipe with his thumb the tears you haven’t noticed are falling.
“We can start with something,” you prompt, reaching for a folder resting at the coffee table. After opening it, you produce a bunch of ultrasound pictures and hand them to him. From the first appointment you had, to the last one from a week ago.
Spencer’s eyes sparkle with excitement, seeing every detail and the way the baby has grown in the past months.
Tears fall freely and there is pure emotion that fills his heart.
So many nights you both spent talking about what it would be like to have a baby. How wonderful it would be to see them grow. About what traits they would inherit from each of you.
You smile at the scene unfolding in front of your eyes. It feels so good to see in him the same excitement you have. You both wanted this. And until today you thought only you would get the chance to experience it.
After inspecting and committing to memory each detail from each pic, Spencer’s eyes find yours again.
“Do you know the baby’s-” he trails off. He’s unsure, maybe you didn't want to know or want him to know.
You have known the baby’s gender for a while now but have not told to anyone. From the same folder, you extract an envelope you offer to him. With trembling hands, Spencer takes it and gets the paper from inside. Scanning the words he realizes it is the information of your baby’s gender.
“It's - it's a girl,” he reads aloud with a cracking voice and more tears in his eyes. You nod, your own tears clouding your vision.
“Yes. Do you remember when we talked about having a baby and you told me you wanted a girl? When I found out the gender, I thought about how happy you would have been,” you sniffle, and Spencer reaches for you, now wrapping you in a loving embrace.
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” he repeats over and over, kissing your temple. You close your eyes, losing yourself in his chest, inhaling his scent.
You stay like this for a moment. Contently in each other arms. Spencer still can’t believe he got the chance to hold you again, and you are still assimilating the day’s events. It's unbelievable how everything changed in less than twenty-four hours.
“I love you,” he mumbles in your hair, a hand moving to rub your belly. “And I love you,” he says now, talking to your baby.
“We love you too, Spencer,” you respond, voice thick with emotion. “I never stopped, and we will never stop.”
Parting from your embrace, you get lost in each other's eyes. Communicating without words what this moment means to both of you. Cupping your face, Spencer leans to find your lips with his in a loving kiss. You kiss him back, pouring all your feelings.
It's a new promise of love.
After breaking the kiss, he presses his forehead to yours.
“Will we be okay?” he asks, almost in a whisper.
“From now on, we will be,” you assure him. It feels like you are telling this to yourself too. Maybe you do. Everything still looks messy right now, but life is giving you a second chance, and neither Spencer nor you is willing to let it go.
-----
Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger
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libraford · 10 months
Text
Okay so here's what's going on with the bird crimes.
On thursday I was going to Powers Park when I saw what I thought were 2 chickens hanging out in the parking lot, and a lady watching them from the fence. I thought... they could belong to the lady, but chickens aren't the kind of pet that you just let hang out loose.
I approach.
Lady: "These aren't mine."
I look closer. Its actually 2 roosters, one of which is a very small breed and is missing his tail feathers. Both of them have an injury to their backside- like its been plucked.
So we talk about what to do, I end up calling Animal Control. The actual Animal Control officer doesn't get there until noon, I get a police dispatcher. She says she can send one of the cops to grab them until the actual professional gets there.
I tell her that the roosters are being kept by the woman I met, she's coaxing them into her house.
I post about it on the facebook group in case someone knows who they belong to. The comments are full of jokes, obviously. But no leads. Eventually the big rooster gets caught by someone running a sanctuary for abandoned and abused livestock, but they're still looking for the little black one. Evidently they got out of the lady's backyard and were loose again.
I figure he's going to be a coyote snack and don't think about it for the rest of the week.
So now it is Sunday and I'm opening up the bathrooms. I'm at Summit Grove park and as I'm about to reserve the shelter for a birthday party I see...
A black pigeon.
Pigeons are not a common animal in this area- you're more likely to see house sparrows, crows, and mourning doves. So that's odd. What's more, she doesn't seem to be skittish and is definitely accustomed to humans. And she keeps trying to bite my fingers, so she associates hands with food and she's skinny as a rail so she's been abandoned for a minute.
Why does this keep happening to me? Is this the Morrigan come to teach me a lesson in pigeon form?
So I remember the number of the woman running the sanctuary and I give her a call. I tell her I've got a pigeon here that can't fly, is super hungry, and doesn't seem to have any issues biting fingers. She says she can't take her, but she can find a home for her because pigeons have specific needs. But she won't be able to get there until 12:30. We (my work partner and I) have to deal with the bird in the meantime.
We absolutely cannot take this bird with us on our route because we are in a tiny truck cab and don't have a cat carrier to put her in. So our solution is to lock her in the janitor's closet until the rep can get here.
Around 12:15, we head back to the shelter to make sure she's still there and hasn't been disturbed... and I realize that the reason I even saw her in the first place...
...was because there was supposed to be a birthday party at the shelter at noon.
The party is strongly underway and they have shoved a table against the door of the closet.
The sanctuary lady comes by and waves, we ask the party people politely to move the table slightly because we're trying to rehome a pigeon that's inside that closet.
They move the table, but not all guests see this interaction- because it looks like a bunch of maintenance people are just here to boss folks around during a little girl's birthday party and this draws a crowd.
The sanctuary rep arrives and we open the door just a little bit to let the bird out. She bobbles towards us, hoping for food, when one of the older ladies at the party exclaims:
"Does that ANIMAL just LIVE in there?!"
I mean... sure. For the past few hours, she did live in there.
"Do you have any IDEA how many DISEASES pigeons carry?"
The rep scoops the pigeon into her arms and takes her out of the shelter area to inspect her wings, feet, and back. She shows us her breastbone and explains that its been several days since the bird ate anything, which was why it was going for fingers.
Meanwhile, Aunt Ornithophobia over here: "I can't BELIEVE you would just TOUCH a BIRD like that in front of CHILDREN!"
We take the bird away to the van so the rep can thank us and explain what likely happened- which is that someone abandoned the bird when they couldn't take care of her anymore they just let her loose.
"I understand you got one of the roosters," I said.
"Yes, the big one. But the little bantam rooster is very fast- he darted into someone's backyard and I never found him again. If you see him, give me a call."
"I've been told that chickens are legal to own here, but roosters are not."
She gets an exasperated look on her face. "If you're going to allow backyard chickens, you're going to have to allow roosters. It's impossible to sex an avian chick and they don't get their dimorphic traits until they've reached the young adult stage and chick sellers don't care about whether they're a hen or a rooster. They care about the sale. We get roosters more often than egg-layers because someone sold them a male as a female and they don't want to pay the fine. I'd rather have the laws allow both, or neither. But disallowing roosters is patently stupid."
"Hm. Well. Note to self."
"Anyways, you're heroes to this little rock dove and I want you two to know that. She's going on a trip to a bird sanctuary in Toledo where she'll have lots and lots of snacks to eat that aren't fingers."
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