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gutsby · 2 months

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Cabin Fever

Pairing: Dark!Joel x Dark!Reader

Summary: Joel saves your life, but help comes at a price.

Warnings: 18+. DEAD DOVE: DNE. NONCONSENSUAL. I’m never ever beating the insane bitch allegations, I fear. Protector-turned-pervert-turned-unwilling-captor-kinda. Corruption kink. Daddy kink. Somnophilia. Misogyny. “It’s too big; it won’t fit” + Joel “I’ll make it fit” Miller. Captivity on both ends. Oral (f!receiving). Gunplay. Oversimplified first-time anal. Uno Reverse Drugging. Evil, inexperienced reader meets evil, feral, slutty Joel. Attempted murder x3. Russian Roulette…as foreplay?

Notes: Both characters SUCK. I condone nothing they do. Please do not take any of their behavior or language to reflect my own moral predilections. That is all 🚬😵‍💫

You were hardly shaking at all when he’d found you chained, maimed, and frozen half to death on the plains.

He didn’t see that every day, that was for-fucking-sure.

Joel Miller barely got to see his share of happy, grinning girls on the cold and bitter frontier he inhabited. Ones that were tied to posts and clinging to life were even less common, so the sight of you there had almost frightened him at first. He’d approached you like one might advance upon a sleeping bear: with the utmost caution and a Winchester Model 70 levelled directly at your head.

He’d learned you were unarmed and defenseless in less than a second. He’d come to realize you were largely unconscious—and unclothed—even sooner than that.

He had been industrious in freeing your hands and feet from their restraints but never uttered a word as he did.

Even on the two-and-a-half mile trek back home, he hadn’t spoken once. You’d hung off his left shoulder like a pretty, frosted slab of meat, covered only with the sherpa blanket he’d secured around your neck, and dangled precariously down his back for the entire fifty minutes.

Your toes were two shades shy of onyx with frostbite.

Your limbs were hanging like lead over his chest.

A whisper of, ‘You’ll be fine, darlin’, I promise’ had just seemed ill-suited for the circumstances and his nature. In truth, Joel didn’t know if you’d be fine. You might die. The blood wouldn’t be on his hands one way or the other, but he never had liked burying bodies this time of year. He’d have to wait until April to break ground, at least.

Presently, he dropped your limp form to the floor of his cabin and hoped he wouldn’t be needing to bury anyone.

You sort of looked charming in the firelight.

He stomped off to the kitchen and began rifling for pans, preparing to defrost the icy stranger as best he could.

You didn’t die.

You didn’t wake for forty full hours, but you didn’t die.

When you stirred on the floor with warm sherpa around your shoulders and a rough calfskin rug under your ass, you thought you had died—maybe taken a pit stop in cowpoke purgatory while you were at it—but then you blinked. Breathed. Realized you were still very much inside your body and most likely still in Wyoming.

You sat up where you were and looked around.

“Da-a-d?”

You knew it was useless, calling for your father.

He had been dead almost eight months; you just wanted to double-check to make sure you were still on earth.

When dead dad didn’t answer, you tried someone else.

“Momma?”

Still no answer.

Figured, since she was among the ones that had left you chained outside in the first place. It’d been worth a shot.

You started to rise from your place, when a sharp pain in your side made you plop back down on the rug. You winced and lifted the blanket, then your old nightie.

A neat little taped-down bandage had your ribs encased in antiseptics and gauze. You frowned down at a stain in the centre, which looked to you an awful lot like blood. That circle of old fluids must’ve been twice the size of your fist and currently oozing tiny, fresh beads of blood from the strain you’d just exerted. You pursed your lips.

Least they could’ve done is kill me, not leave me here.

You’d take it up with your old would-be assassins another day, you were sure. Right now, you were parched, starving, in dire need of a piss, and reeling on the floor to grab hold of something sturdy to lift yourself. But you were as much a child then as you had ever been, swaying in place and clawing at air like someone who’d never kept their balance before. Or might’ve been drunk.

You rolled onto your good side and cast a sweeping look around the cabin. You smelled slow-cooked barbecue.

Thank fuck, you thought.

Now, if I were a juicy rack of ribs, where would I be?

The kitchen was dark and empty; the smell was coming from elsewhere. You craned your neck, tilted your chin, spotted a loft overhead but figured it wasn’t too likely to find someone grilling up there, so where the hell was it?

And who the hell was it, smoking meats and mending up strangers in the cold and lonely dead of winter like this?

You put a pin in that thought as you searched for a place to pee.

By the time you’d hobbled out of the bathroom, the smoky smell had grown even stronger. It was so pungent it bordered on vertiginous, invading every inch of the cabin with a force. Then it was leading you, teasing you by turns to venture outside. All you had on your feet were some oversized socks and two strips of medical tape.

Against your better judgment, you continued to hobble.

Out the door, down the steps, slowly, then following your nose and the first whiff of smoke you smelled to make it to the place you were almost certain you needed to be.

You trudged around a corner of the cabin’s exterior and stopped. Turned around. Cursed your own senses for being so stupid to miss the huge fucking shed spewing smoke out front—or was it the back?—and plodded on.

Your feet might have carried you a third of the way there before your powers of sight and sound eventually failed you again, and you missed another big something.

Big and beige and coated in snow—baring its teeth and snarling at the unfamiliar presence as soon as it saw you.

The next thing you knew, sixty-two pounds of Belgian Malinois had had you knocked to the ground in less than a second. You hardly understood what had hit you until it was barking and chomping away an inch from your face.

You fought hard and frantic to shove the ugly fucker off, but your bandaged hands were no match for its paws. The dog continued to tear at your blanket, nip at your ears, claw at your neck, and all around snuff out any sense of peace you might have acquired in the dozen-odd minutes since you’d first woken up. You screamed.

You yelled as loud as you could and felt yourself cower and sink lower into the snow as you fought.

Just when you tried to raise a knee—to kick the animal in the ribs or else protect your own—a sound broke out above the buzz.

A voice, clear as day:

“CUJO!”

The dog stalled on top of you a moment, just to be yanked off the next, and the closest thing afterward was a face—kinder than Cujo’s but not by very much.

It was a broad, bearded, pock-marked head with more soot to recommend itself than skin. Lips smeared with ash and grime and curved down in the single most decisive frown you’d seen in your life, the man looked to be beside himself seeing you tits up in the snow.

He gripped one arm of yours, then dropped it.

Picked a leg up, paused, then hauled you into a cradle carry as graceless as you’d ever felt it done before.

“Come!” he snapped, and it took you too long to realize that he was talking to the dog. You’d already wrapped your arms around his neck in abrupt complaisance.

He carried you back into the cabin and kicked the door open in front of you. He held you firm for a second, then, just as he had outside, changed course before you knew what to do and was shortly depositing you on the sofa.

You winced when your ass hit the cushion.

You started to sit, grab a pillow for your back or just bring your knees to your chest, when suddenly a palm was pressing flat on your front. Forcing you to lie down.

“Hey, hey!” you cried when the man started lifting the hem of your nightgown.

If he’d heard you at all, he didn’t show it. He just worked his thick, dirty fingers under the fabric and raised the white satin like he might the hood of a car. He frowned.

It was then that you noticed a blooming red splotch on your side, slowly overtaking the terra-cotta color of dried blood on the bandage and spreading out. Then a pain.

Instead of pushing the man’s hands away, you were holding them tight, wrestling that same touch which was trying to keep you from poking around the area now.

“Quit,” the man said, sedate as could be.

“Hurts,” was all you could think to tell him—and you guessed he’d already had that part down by the outpouring of blood. He shoved your hands off.

The brand new crimson hue had already soaked through the bandage. He pulled it off. You caught a glimpse of a wound that seemed to be weeping through its stitches—oozing pus and blood and a gore you could’ve gone your whole life without seeing. You would’ve liked to run a couple gentle, awed fingers over it, but as it was, your coarse and tight-lipped medic wouldn’t let you.

“Hold still,” he commanded.

“Heystopstopstop!” you implored him, feeling a streak of pain up your side as his calloused hands delved deeper.

At your latest flinch and plea, the man seemed to have had enough. Or just needed to angle your body in a different direction for easier access to the site. He gathered you back up in his arms and walked over to the kitchen, where he set you down again on the counter. Hands moved to your hips, briefly, to push you back on the surface and allow him to stand between your legs. Again, the man frowned as he peeled off your pyjamas.

Two warring fears of pain and overexposure fought like wild beasts in your brain for a second—you yelping and trying to cover your breasts in a hurry, then realizing how much it hurt to lift your arms that way when your ribs were dripping blood, then the man making the decision for you both as he pushed your hands behind your back and said a simple ‘Fuck’s sake’ to keep you pinned.

You didn’t like it.

You didn’t like it, and you let him continue, because you knew that you didn’t know shit about doing this yourself.

Joel must’ve fixed your dressings fourteen times before turning you loose. He’d had you perched atop his counter like goddamned Prisoner-of-War Barbie, all riddled with bumps, bruises, and lesions galore, looked your body up and down just once, and nearly grew sick at the sight.

He’d disgusted himself by feeling as aroused as he was.

Shortly thereafter, he’d toted you off—before the blood could rush down to his dick and start to swell—shrugged your gown over your torso, and stepped away. Simple.

Then you’d had to go and throw a wrench in his plans.

“What if I need to pee?” you’d said as soon as Joel started up the stairs with you in his arms again.

He had meant to drop you off on the bed in the loft, out of sight, but it seemed you were more concerned about the prospect of traversing the steps up and down for potty breaks. Joel had audibly huffed above you.

“I can leave a bucket.”

“Yu-uck.” The latter word had been given two syllables to show the full extent of your disgust, like a child might do.

And that was how you’d ended up here: snug in his bed on the ground floor, curled up in more layers of flannel and wool than you could count and staring blankly up at the man who was standing cold and aloof off to the side.

Your eyelids were growing heavy with sleep.

He figured they would be.

Joel picked up the glass that sat beside your empty one on the nightstand and drank, watching you all the while.

“D’you know my momma?” you asked, voice sounding extra small coming from the depths of your cocoon.

Joel finished his drink in four big gulps.

“Sure hope not,” he said once he’d set it back down.

By the sight of the scars he’d found littering your hands and back alone, Joel was able to surmise you’d come from a pretty rough, ragtag group. Maybe even Raiders. Knowing folks like that simply never struck one’s fancy, so he’d been honest. You might’ve argued, or laughed, if you hadn’t been nabbed so tightly in the grips of those first stages preceding sleep, so instead, you nodded.

“Figured,” you mumbled.

7:11, Joel read on the clock. You’d finished your drink at seven, or somewhere thereabouts. Judging by your size, it wouldn’t take long at all for the medicine to take effect.

‘Medicine,’ Joel thought, sounded a whole hell of a lot better than ‘drugs.’ One was meant to rehabilitate, rejuvenate, bring new life to your worn and weary bones. The other would just knock you cold and keep you there.

On second thought, those were definitely drugs Joel had just slipped in your water before giving it to you to drink.

As your eyes blinked from closed, to open, to closed, then open but slightly less open than the time before, and closed again, he felt a sick sense of accomplishment twist in his gut. If only his former-nurse friend could have seen what he was doing with those morphine sulfate tablets he’d traded for—he likely would’ve slapped Joel across the face. And Joel would’ve smiled all the same.

Yeah, okay, drugging the unsuspecting and defenseless female he’d just saved from death’s doorstep two days ago didn’t look great on paper, he would fully concede.

But this was all in good fun.

Great fun, even.

For him.

“Sick fuck,” Joel muttered as he started to undo his belt. The button and zip were taken apart just as fast, and with two steps, he was standing at your bedside—his bedside—and tugging his trousers down his legs. He took his cock in his hand and glanced over at the clock.

7:15.

He nudged your shoulder.

7:16.

Peeling layers of blanket away from your body.

7:17.

“Hey…honey?”

A lot more nothing from the girl sleeping in front of him. He shrugged his jeans to the floor, kicked them off at his feet, and moved onto the bed. You just looked so sweet.

Joel tried working around the fabric of his boxers but got impatient pretty quick. He hauled those off, too.

Soon, his beefy, bare, and surprisingly tan legs were bracketing your hips as he stroked himself above you. His eyes roamed the lax and tranquil features undeniably characteristic of sleep, and he pumped himself faster. Really, there was no need for theatrics or enhancements now—he was already hard as three tonnes of steel—but Joel would be lying if he said he didn’t like the build-up.

You were no longer in danger of dying, thanks to him. You were slowly but surely on the mend, no thanks to Cujo at all, but many thanks to him, Joel Miller, the man who had pried you off of that post, pulled you out of your chains, ushered warmth back into your limbs, and stitched up your side out of the goodness of his heart.

Any objective onlooker could see that you’d availed yourself of his medical attention and aid without ever asking, so why should he request access to you now? This was the way of the world these days, anyway. Sex was no longer so much a question as it was an answer in most scenarios—a mere transaction, wherein the physically weaker of two parties was forced to capitulate. Not within the four unsullied walls of Jackson and a few other pockets of homestead communities here and there, but on the whole, absolutely. Jackson was down the road a ways away and sufficiently far enough from Joel’s cabin for him to be disentangled from their rules. What mattered now was obtaining what he was owed.

Still, the man hesitated a half-second longer above you. He jerked his cock even faster and felt his stomach start to clench. Was that? No—nerves were fucking juvenile. Getting close to cumming from just the sight of you alone was for chumps. Joel Miller was no chump.

He lifted your nightie and lowered the head of his cock to rest between your folds. Then he shifted his knees so that he could rub himself gently against your warmth.

Joel Miller was a monster, but he was no brute. He also understood female anatomy well enough to know that, well…wetter was better. He started moving his hips.

You exhaled through your nose. Nothing major; you probably hadn’t even felt him long enough to whine.

Joel planted a hand beside your head—a preemptive warning.

“There…” He liked to talk as though you could hear him. Like you might be semi-conscious and dimly aware of what he was doing to you then, “Right there…ah, baby.”

He never did catch your name.

That was no matter. So long as you stayed put and made a nice, wet, pretty little hole for him to fuck, you would be fine. By the feel of your folds alone, he could tell you’d be a fun thing to use. Soft and snug and plied with drugs, you could do, and be, anything he damn well needed.

Or maybe nothing at all, he thought without humor.

Joel brushed your cheek with the knuckles of his free hand and watched you turn away, making a face. He snagged your chin and tilted it back to him, sharply, before gliding those fingers down your chest, then your tummy, then your hips, then dipping between your legs. He found your clit and pressed it with a deliberate touch.

“Hey,” Joel whispered, again, as though you might hear, “You’re gonna stay still and let me do this.”

Your nose scrunched in response, thighs clamping together. Joel pried them apart with one push and continued sliding his cock back and forth. He grunted.

“Gonna let me take what’s mine, hear?”

You didn’t hear much of anything, he suspected, but he asked the question all the same. At least now your legs were staying open and he could rut himself gently into that space without having to keep them spread. A first, gentle ‘mmph’ sounded from your lips, and he was glad. He kept thumbing that spot he knew you would like and rubbing along the seam of your cunt with his erection.

Then Joel felt a weight on his shoulders. Remorse? No. Anxiety? Perhaps. This felt more like a fog, though, seizing his muscles and seeping gently between the grooves of his brain. He gave his head a fierce shake.

“Hold still,” he said, more to himself; you hadn’t moved.

Joel fisted the base of his cock and angled the tip toward your entrance, caring much less whether you were ready or not now that his desires had grown stronger.

He was met with resistance on trying to push in. He dug his fingers in the pillow beneath your head and scowled.

“Quit…clenchin’…like that. Ain’t…fair to me,” he huffed.

He was one to talk.

Now, he’d been with a staggering number of women, experiences ranging all across the spectrum, but even the tightest, most untouched pieces of ass he’d ever tapped had given way more than this. Your walls were unyielding, refusing to give him entry. Joel cursed and rutted his hips in a rough, entirely unsuccessful, thrust.

You hummed in response, eyes still closed, one hand fumbling mindlessly for something to hold. Joel seized it.

“Not lettin’ you off that easy, darlin’, I—”

“Fuck,” you breathed, followed by a low whimper.

Joel froze. Had you heard him? Felt him just now?

Something about the uncertainty laden in those questions sent his mind into overdrive, heart beating a wild cadence in his chest. He realized then that his mouth had gone dry, his vision was skewed just slightly on the outskirts. And his cock was throbbing.

“Ya like that?” Joel seethed, not thinking, still rubbing, “Like givin’ daddy a hard time before lettin’ him in?”

“Uh-huh.” Softly.

You little slut. He knew it all along.

Whatever it was that kept your body from being coupled with his was almost immaterial to him now. Joel’s mind was swimming with desire, cock dragging in desperate, fitful bursts between your legs, never penetrating but still wringing massive jolts of pleasure from that place.

With the way he was feeling now, Joel could cum from just fucking your thighs. And that was alright.

You were moaning underneath him. Even…smiling?

“Fuck, baby, you look so pretty.”

Joel had never called a girl pretty before and meant it. But he hardly knew how else to describe you now with how good and sweet and fine you were making him feel. A strange warmth sank into his chest, making it harder to breathe, and then he was panting above you, as if he were really inside that dripping wet spot. He was close.

“Such a pretty…sweet…fuckin’ thing for me.”

That red, raging, leaky cock of his was almost a blur between your legs, he was thrusting against you so fast. Joel thought for one frightening second that it might be his skull that would explode instead, so high was that pressure between his ears, but his fears were promptly put to rest as the first rope of cum came stuttering out. Then another. Then another. Then another.

By the time he finished, he could’ve sworn he’d left a hundred spurts on your tummy. When Joel glanced down and saw a sea of opaque, sticky white, he groaned.

Then he fell. Fully collapsed at your side with his brain in a tizzy of wild, heady feelings and sank into himself.

He hadn’t even fucked you, and he felt like he had.

He lifted a hand to wipe away his spend, but he couldn’t.

He would get to it in the morning, before you stirred, he thought. He thought. He didn’t have the chance to think much longer at all, as darkness started hedging him in.

He slept.

It was 7:57 when he woke.

The man had no real way of knowing that, though, seeing as he was greeted with a nickel-plated revolver between his teeth the second he opened his eyes.

You were straddling his torso, gun pinched between two calm, bandaged hands. You frowned when he jumped.

“WH—” he started.

“Shut up.”

“ST—”

“I said shut,” you cocked the gun, holding it tighter, then shoving it even further inside his mouth, “the fuck. up.”

The man obeyed.

‘Joel M.’—you’d read the name etched on the butt of his pistol before picking it up some twenty minutes ago.

“Pretty fuckin’ thing,” you mocked the man’s Texan drawl as you wiggled the barrel even deeper along his tongue, “Like givin’ daddy a hard time before lettin’ him in?”

The man’s eyes widened.

How dumb did he think you were?

Offering a semi-clear liquid that should’ve been water; he hadn’t even waited for the morphine tablet to fully dissolve before handing it over to you. Fucking idiot.

You were more disturbed by the fact he’d thought you stupid enough not to notice than him actually trying to drug you. The latter was almost to be expected from predatory, execrable men like him, but the insult to your intelligence? Unacceptable. You’d remedied that affront fairly quickly, though, swapping his glass with yours the second he hadn’t been looking, then nestling into his bed and playing pretend for what had felt like an eternity.

You’d been awake the whole time the man touched you, not knowing what the hell was going on but feeling like you had to stay still. Let him finish. Out of fear, at first, then curiosity, then some strange and unfamiliar sensation that you couldn’t quite describe as anything but a pleasurable itch between your legs. You let the man continue, hearing him grunt and groan and swear up a storm before he shot something hot all over your tummy. By the end of it all, you knew it was wrong, and you knew it was dirty—though you weren’t sure exactly what it was that he had done—but you wanted to learn more.

Which was probably why you hadn’t just shot the old pervert right between his eyes the second he’d stirred.

You shifted atop this ‘Joel M.’ and frowned once more.

“Why’d you stop?”

Gun still wedged in his mouth, Joel’s voice sounded garbled as he spoke, “Wha-agh-at?”

You retracted the metal just long enough to pose the question again. When you had, he still looked stunned.

“Answer me,” you barked, and feeling your patience lapse, got straight to pistol-whipping the motherfucker upside his half-grey head, “You DUMB, or somethin’?”

The man sputtered again.

“No, no— I don’t— dunno what you mean.”

He sounded dumb. You would need to spell this out.

“Why did you stop rubbing me like that?”

If anything, the clarification only seemed to baffle him further. He opened his taut, bearded mouth, then closed it, then eyed you up and down with a look that said he was considering something. Then he stared at one spot.

You glanced down at it too.

“And what is this, anyway?” you asked, swiping one finger at the mostly dried moisture on your stomach, “Why’d you spit this stuff up all over me, huh?!”

“I ain’t—”

You raised the gun as if to hit him again. He jolted back.

“I didn’t mean— shit. Shit, I just…came on you, ‘s’all.”

“Came?”

The word hung in the air like a grenade, waiting. Mr. M was already bracing himself for the impact, it seemed.

“Came?!”

That bracing served him well, because in the next second you were lifting the weapon even higher and eyeing him with the most pointed, putrid look of disdain. You’d never been one for letting grenades go untouched.

“Ejaculated!” Joel hissed, lifting a hand to shield himself, “Felt— felt so good I just couldn’t stop and I-I-I came.”

You paused.

Came. Felt good. Couldn’t stop.

You had felt good when he’d rubbed you. You had not wanted him to stop. But then he had. And you were mad. You’d never been touched that way in your life, and now you were feeling fifteen hundred emotions at once.

Were you supposed to ‘come,’ too? Why did he stop?

“Why didn’t you let me…ejaculate, too?” The words felt foreign and strange on your tongue.

For the first time, you saw one side of Joel’s lips twitch. Evidently fighting the urge to turn them into a smile.

“Girls don’t really…do that,” he said. Then, after a beat, “Why? Ain’t ever had your pussy rubbed on by a man?”

You shortly landed the blow you’d been holding over his head, splitting the skin along his brow with one hit from the butt of his gun. Joel jumped again, then moaned.

“Crazy bitch!”

“Creepy fuck.”

Your eyes narrowed with loathing, unable to comprehend how a man so vile had just made you feel so good. Your stomach was twisting in knots while Joel rubbed his forehead, pawing helplessly at the gash you’d just left.

“I saved your life,” he grumbled, low, “You owed me.”

“Did I?”

Abruptly, and without really thinking, you were sinking the muzzle of the gun into the spot you’d just cut, mouth kicking up in a smile at the sounds of pain it elicited.

“Did I, Joel?” you cooed.

“How the— the fuck do you know my name?”

Momentarily, you yanked the revolver from his face and tilted it to show him his name carved into the bottom.

“What’s the ‘M’ stand for? ‘Molester’?”

“Means ‘mind’ your fucking business,” he spat.

You probably would’ve hit him again had it not seemed as though he were trying to sit up just then. You slid swiftly from his frame—just to take a step off the bed, gun still pointed at his head. Then you backed away.

One by one, rapidly, you unloaded the bullets from the cylinder, maintaining a safe distance from the man all the while. You watched him blink and try to get some thing from his eyes, but he didn’t seem keen to move.

You left just one live round inside. You made a point to spin the cylinder and, again, aim it straight at his head.

The man was blinking even harder. Rubbing now, too.

“I feel…” Joel murmured.

“Drugged?” you returned, “Yeah, that must suck.”

A set of wide, irate, and horrified eyes met yours. His mouth hung open in a stupid look of shock. Trying to piece the last bits of this fucked up jigsaw puzzle together and growing angrier by the second.

“You fuckin’—”

Joel’s words were cut short by the weight of your body barreling back over his. Graceless, you imagined, but still nothing close to something you cared about now. You planted your knees on either side of his ribs and grazed the tip of the six-shooter down the length of his nose.

“Tell me,” you said, “How’d you make it feel so good?”

Your hips twisted for effect, jostling the man’s own parts beneath yours and clearly causing some effect in him. The muscles in his jaw jumped up as he gritted his teeth.

“You know damn well, slut,” Joel griped.

Without another thought, you squeezed the trigger.

Click.

The man’s whole body lurched underneath you. Trembling with the realization that you’d left just one lone bullet for him—and he didn’t know which chamber.

As far as foreplay went, Russian Roulette was probably a first, even for a man as wanton and depraved as Joel. You smiled sweetly and made another gyration with your lower half, which prompted him to grip you. Tight.

“What? Ya want me to fuck you, is that it?” he growled.

“I thought it wouldn’t fit.”

“I’ll make it fit.”

“How?”

Try as you might to conceal it, your gaze likely betrayed a hint of sincerity as you made that last inquiry. Joel’s eyes flickered between yours, searching for something there, and just when those glossy brown irises had found it, they stopped. Blinked. He shook his head, incredulous.

“My mind ain’t…right,” he said, slowly, “But I— I know you know what I mean by that, sweet pea.”

Something in your tummy fluttered at the sound. You gripped the pistol tighter to get rid of the feeling.

“I don’t,” you answered.

Again, Joel was stumped. For the first time, though, there appeared to be some sympathy behind his eyes. Or stupidity. Or just a shit ton of morphine coursing through his veins as he tried to make sense of this situation.

As if to confirm an idea in his drug-addled brain, he lowered a hand between your legs and hovered there a second. He watched you; you watched back but didn’t move.

Then slowly, almost clinically, Joel slipped two fingers underneath you and found a soft, pulsing warmth—far wetter than the last time he’d touched down there. When he pulled his hand away, both fingers and half of his palm were glistening with a fluid. You let out a startled cry at the sight of it and nearly dropped your gun.

“What is that?!”

Joel looked to you, equally awed—for different reasons.

“What do you mean?”

“Why’s it all…sticky?”

You couldn’t even try to hide your horror at the thought of that weird, syrupy stuff leaking out of you. It was strange enough feeling it come out of a freak like Joel, but from your own body? He had to be fucking joking.

“It’s normal.”

“Like hell it is— you— STOP!” The last fragment of your sentence was swallowed by a scream, leaping back when Joel moved his fingers toward your face.

“What? You’ve never seen this?” He sounded like he was teasing. You could shoot him for how smug he sounded.

In very small amounts, you’d seen stuff. Blood every month. Bits and pieces of bodily secretions that, to you, had always seemed gross. But never this. Never big, sticky globs of…whatever the fuck this was. You continued to back away on the bed, gun still tipped toward Joel but now trying to put some distance between your bodies. You didn’t know how else to act.

You did know you wanted to scream when Joel stuck his fingers in his mouth. Bile might’ve jumped in your throat.

He sucked the dew clean off the digits, then wriggled them to show what he’d done. You felt the urge to vomit.

“That came from— from— why are you eating it?!”

Joel grinned. Big.

You weren’t sure why, but he looked psyched to be alive in that moment, and not just because of the narcotics.

Before you knew what was happening, he’d pushed you flat on your back, hips pinned underneath his hands as he moved over your body. He didn’t even try for the gun.

“And here I was thinkin’ you were just fuckin’ with me,” he chuckled, palms sliding under your nightdress. When you felt the residuum of wetness from his spit and your slick stuck together on his fingers, you wanted to squeal.

But you didn’t. You tried propping yourself up on elbows until Joel was sliding your one and only article of clothing over your head, then beckoning you down on the bed in front of him. You watched his gaze flit down to your side.

“Still hurt?” he murmured, tracing over the bandage.

You shook your head no, though it did, a little. At the moment, it seemed the pain was the furthest thing from your mind as you saw Joel slide down your body and try to take up residence between your thighs—with his face planted right there. You kicked his shoulder in protest.

“Quit!” you cried, pulling your legs up to your chest.

“You quit,” Joel returned, yanking them back.

Then you felt you had no choice but to brandish the gun, taking the thing between two palms while you pointed it again—as if he needed the reminder.

“Fine. Why don’t you keep that thing aimed at my head while I give you some?” he muttered. The subsequent ‘See if I give a shit’ was silent.

“Give me some what?”

“Head.”

Head. You’d never heard something phrased that way. Joel’s head was down there, sure, practically grinning from ear to ear as he hooked your legs over his shoulders, but certainly he didn’t mean to do a thing as drastic and dirty as—

“JOEL!”

“Hm?” His voice was muffled by your thighs.

You tried to shy away, but he held you down.

“Joel, I— I pee out of there,” you hissed, “Why the fuck would you wanna put your mouth on that?”

As if your groans of disgust and vehement attempts to get away weren’t enough to deter him, you watched Joel’s tongue dart between his lips and down to yours. The sick fuck was actually licking your folds, tracing the tip across that warm, sticky place and moaning into your skin. Holding you tighter when you pleaded for him to stop. Then, with the hand that wasn’t prying your legs apart, he reached down and started stroking his cock.

Again, it felt dirty and wrong. Beyond the fact that this man was a perfect stranger and easily decades your senior, you were repulsed by the sight of his lips and his tongue and his spit mixing up in that messy, wet place you still didn’t quite understand yourself. You didn’t know much about your body, but it had never once occurred to you to be kissed down there. Joel was roaming every contour and crevice with his tongue like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he liked it.

“I hate it,” you whined, feebly.

You knew you could’ve easily blown the man’s brains out, but some small part of you was still plagued by curiosity. ‘Hate’ was just the first word that came to mind when you were faced with something that made you scared.

“It’s weird,” you tried again. This time pressing the gun to the top of his bobbing head while you grit your teeth, “And wrong.”

At that, Joel stopped.

His eyes flickered to yours, all glass-like and hooded.

“Why? Practically lickin’ ya clean here,” he said, starting to grin to himself as his words came slightly slurred, “There’s nothin’ wrong about this, sweet pea.”

You felt something flutter between you. He felt it, too.

“Like when I call ya that? ‘Sweet pea’?” he said, pausing to flick his tongue over the spot that had just stirred at his words. He watched you fight back a whimper.

“No,” you choked. You pinched your eyes shut, unsure whether it was pleasure or pure revulsion overtaking you—or both.

Suddenly, you felt Joel’s hand smooth over your thigh, still warm from when he’d been stroking himself below. He placed an affectionate kiss to your belly and grinned.

“Is that what this is? Feel guilty about feelin’ this good?” he murmured, “Think it’s…dirty, what we’re doin’?”

At length, and just barely visible to him, you nodded.

“It is dirty,” you corrected him quietly.

Then you saw that stupid pseudo-sympathetic smirk tug at the corners of his lips, and just when you thought he might nudge his way back up your body—to do what, you weren’t sure—he sank between your legs. This time, he made sure to hold your gaze as he re-assumed the position. His palm continued to rub at your thigh, as if to distract you from the rough brush of his stubble or the fact that his mouth was hovering so dangerously close.

“Sweet pea,” he rasped, “Ain’t nothin’ dirty about this.”

As if to punctuate his words, Joel dragged his lips down your slit to press a kiss to your centre, eyes never leaving yours.

“Not here…”

He pointed with his tongue, moving it deftly between your folds. You gripped the sheets, trying to ignore the pleasure that the simple act wrought through your body.

“Not here.”

He kissed your clit. You squeezed even tighter.

“Not on my tongue, on my fingers, anywhere, y’hear?”

You were about to answer—maybe tell him he was supremely full of shit, then flash the gun in his face—when Joel shifted onto his knees on the bed. He moved slowly and as calm as he ever had, motions languid while his mind was likely steeped in the morphine by now. He snagged one of your ankles. He slid his hand up the back of your calf and tugged you down to the edge of the bed. Then he stood up, right between your legs. The warmth radiating from his bare lower half was immediate, almost suffocating from where you lay. You didn’t like it at all.

You refused to meet his gaze, grip tightening on the gun.

“Joel…”

When that warmth at your front shifted inward, though, you hardly had a say in what your reflexes did or didn’t do. You jumped when you felt the head of his dick slip past your pulsing core, closer to the other hole below it.

“Not here, either,” Joel continued, grin still evident from his tone.

Before you could even think to ask what he meant to do ‘here,’ Joel moved one of your legs up, tilting your hips, and pushed ahead with just the tip of his cock. Not breaching it fully, but nudging—prodding at that hole.

For the first time, you let out a moan.

You hastily clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle it.

“Aw, honey,” Joel murmured, “Did that feel good?”

His words reeked of condescension. You scowled at the ceiling.

“No.”

You felt him push a little further—this time making the head of his dick notch into that tight ring of muscles.

No, the word rang through your skull once more. Your curiosity was shortly supplanted by disgust—how the fuck could you let this creepy old man, this stranger, press into you like that? Talk to you like you were dumb? You seized hold of Joel’s pistol with both hands and aimed directly for his chest.

“Stop doing that,” you growled. When the man’s grip on your leg only tightened and you couldn’t writhe away, you lifted the other and tried kicking him in the gut. Of course, Joel caught your foot midair, and it never landed.

“Just givin’ ya options, darlin’,” he said, easy-going. Not seeming to care about the firearm pointed his way.

Fuck it.

You squeezed the trigger again.

Empty chamber.

If Joel flinched, you didn’t see it. He did, however, knock the gun right out of your hand the next second, sending it tumbling with an unceremonious thump on the bed behind you. You tried to leap back for it, but your arm was quickly pinned. Joel cocked one silver-flecked brow.

“You done?” he asked, almost bored.

Your last—and only—leverage taken away from you, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anger. And desperation.

“I don’t wanna do this,” you cried, trying to squirm away.

Joel didn’t move his cock, but he did hold you still. Blinking with indifference and a fair bit of drug-induced dissociation, it seemed, from the far-away look in his eyes. He pushed both of your legs so they were folded up to your chest, and ignored your whimpers when he did. At length, he pulled out just enough to smear some of your wetness down to the hole he was trying to fuck.

“You want this,” he countered gently.

“I DON’T!”

Joel continued as though he hadn’t heard you, and moments later, you sensed another slick something pooling against you. From your position beneath him, you could see a bead of spit slip from Joel’s mouth and stretch into a thin, glistening string all the way down to the space between your thighs. You watched him rub the saliva in with his fingers, almost meticulous as he did it.

Then he eased his hips forward an inch, wedging himself back in your ass. He groaned when he felt resistance—and a sharp clench of your muscles.

“I can teach ya…show ya everything…there is to know.”

His words somehow made it out through ragged breaths. That broad, tan chest was heaving with every labored pull of his lungs, and you could tell he was feeling good.

You might’ve been able to say the same for yourself, were your mind not singly occupied by the desire to escape. Still at war with yourself, wondering how it would feel or what you might see that first time, all the while despising the man who seemed hell-bent on forcing it.

He might’ve saved your life, but there was no fucking way he’d get to use you like that and stay breathing.

You were raised better than that.

You could do better than anything this man had to offer.

You resolved to kill him as soon as the drugs knocked him out—just like you’d had planned from the second you woke up on the floor of his cabin that afternoon.

Of course being chained, maimed, and frozen half to death on the plains for some well-meaning stranger to find you had always been part of your mother’s—and the rest of the Raiders’—grand plan. Having this stupid, horny sap take you into his home with the hope of claiming you as his own was just the icing on top.

Now you had a reason to kill Joel and steal all his shit.

At present, he fed another inch of himself inside you and grinned when you let out a startled cry.

“Atta girl,” he said, smirking, “Feelin’ okay?”

“Fuck you.”

“Will do.”

Then, as if to prove a point, he bottomed out, sheathing his cock to the hilt in spite of your cries. Your hands fisted the sheets, and you tried to pull off. It didn’t work.

In fact, all it accomplished was giving Joel more room to thrust back into you. And pull out. And shove back in. The snap of his hips was like cruel and excruciating clockwork, completely unhindered by your words or your gestures or your pleas to stop fucking doing that Joel, it fucking hurts! If anything, the sounds of your censure only got him harder, and with it, made it that much easier to fuck you rougher. His eyes shone with pride.

“What’s’at, sweet pea?” he hummed, strokes coming into a steady pace.

“It’s too…big…doesn’t fit,” you whimpered.

In response, Joel glanced down to see the spot where your bodies were joined. He pushed even deeper.

“Yeah?” he said when you yelped, “I think it fits just fine.”

Motherfucker, you wanted to wail, but then your neck craned sideways—your mouth trying to find purchase in anything you might grit between your teeth—and the only thing that escaped your throat was a sob. You tried burying your face in the comforter, only for Joel to yank it back.

Cupping your chin and pinching both your cheeks in a single, punishing squeeze as he continued to fuck you, “What’s the matter, darlin’? Too much?”

You groaned and clenched your jaw, head jerking away.

Per usual, Joel was undeterred. Even smiled.

“My pretty girl need somethin’a bite, huh?” he hummed.

He probably knew you wouldn’t nod, so he went ahead and decided to oblige that one need he saw anyway. Snagging your nightie, Joel raised a hand to your face and proceeded to push the fabric inside your mouth.

Just as he started to lift his hips to deliver another thrust, he had to stop. A sudden, sharp ‘FUCK!’ left his mouth, then a groan, and his hand retreated fast.

You’d bitten him.

You were grinning just a little, and you’d bitten him.

Joel promptly slapped you across the face. If you weren’t so fucking amused by the sight of his bright red fingers, you just might’ve winced. Instead, the smile stayed on your lips, the slap barely registered, and, to your utmost disbelief, something else had just then started to form.

Pleasure, in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuckin’—” Joel snarled.

“Shit,” you finished, eyes rolling back.

You couldn’t help it. Joel was rutting into you relentlessly. That brief hand bite detour had only stoked the flames of his hatred—and arousal—and now he was practically splitting you in half with the force of his thrusts. He slapped you once more for good measure.

“Oh, that you fuckin’ like?” he seethed, cheeks flushed, “Can’t get off with my…tongue on your cunt, but a slap— and my cock buried deep in your ass gets the job done?”

“Uh-huh,” you answered softly. Mindlessly.

Really, there were no two people more fucked up than you in this moment, you thought. Joel growing harder with each desperate objection of yours, you going all soft and hot and bothered the second he slapped your face and fucked you rougher, and together, the two of you letting out grunts and moans of pleasure while the bed shook like an earthquake just shy of a 9.5 on the Richter scale. Were you not already planning to slit the man’s throat after all of this was over, you just might’ve wanted to marry this Joel M for how wonderfully he fucked you.

You let him know as much when you seized his forearms.

Bouncing into his thrusts, you bit your lip and finally met his gaze. Joel’s eyes were trained in somewhat of a daze, pupils all but swallowing his irises as he fucked you.

“Like being daddy’s little cocksleeve, huh?”

Only the sentence was slurred so bad you could scarcely make out half the words. You nodded just the same.

“Like it when he fucks you in the ass?” Joel panted.

You nodded again.

That pleasure in your belly had worked its way up to a full swell—and whatever it was, you couldn’t bear the thought of losing it now. You gripped Joel’s arms even harder as his chest swayed into you, then sank further and further until your fronts were pressed flush to each other and your ankles were hooked tight around his back.

It almost felt intimate. That coarse, weathered, sweat-coated face spattered with patches of grey seemed to you nearly handsome as his lips hung limply in an ‘o.’

Joel’s cock dragged back and forth between your walls at this new, snug angle, and moans fell out of you both.

“Baby.” His voice was hoarse. Strained.

You couldn’t quite make sense of the expression above you, but there was an unmistakable, muted desperation lurking somewhere beneath it. Joel rutted into you quicker, balls leaving rapid smacks against your ass with every thrust. His hair was disheveled, and his hands were making fists in the sheets on either side of your head.

“Joel—”

“Jus’ lemme use you.”

Words so low they were barely audible as he panted.

“But—”

“Daddy’s…almost done, sweet pea. Just take it.”

You were surprised he’d had it within himself to be so soft. A peculiar sort of haze hung over his face, the pace of his hips picked up even more, and suddenly those plush pink lips were hovering a mere hair’s breadth away from yours. Mumbling. Rambling on and on about how wet you were, how perfect you fit him, how nice and sweet and tight your body felt as he fucked you stupid.

That sensation in your own stomach grew even stronger.

Unsure of what to do, you pressed a palm to his chest.

“Joel, I…I feel funny,” you whispered.

Joel hummed. Didn’t slow.

“I know.”

He knew?

“What’s it—ah, fuck.” Your words broke off in a whimper.

Instead of proffering a verbal response, Joel just slipped a touch between your bodies—thumbing sloppily between your folds to earn a couple more high-pitched moans. Your legs tightened around his middle.

“Joel, s-stop!”

It felt so good it almost hurt. He didn’t stop.

“S’just an orgasm, baby,” Joel panted, “You’re okay.”

And, in spite of his own impending climax and the effect of the drugs likely reaching a fever pitch inside him, Joel managed to slide his other hand beneath the back of your head. Cradled you to him while he fucked you into the bed and made you come unraveled with his touch. You tried to writhe away, but he was used to the drill by now—he just fucked you harder and rubbed you faster.

Whatever he wanted would come soon. You doubted there was anything you could do to stop it, but you tried.

Without thinking, you grabbed hold of the damp locks of hair at the nape of his neck and yanked on them hard.

“Joel, I can’t— I can’t,” you keened.

The hand at the back of your head held you firm.

“You can,” Joel returned, tough but surprisingly calm, “Give it to daddy, ‘s’all ya gotta do.”

What exactly ‘it’ was was still unclear. You just knew you felt good and warm and full—about ready to burst. When you felt tempted to give his hair another tug, Joel’s eyes met yours, and they were soft. Insistent, still, but soft.

Dilated as all hell and probably swimming in clouds of a delirious, bleary haze, but always soft. Almost tender.

“Be a good girl and give it to daddy,” Joel slurred, slow, “C’mon, sweet pea…cum for daddy, please.”

For the first time in that short, rough, utterly deranged time you had known this man, he was begging you. Pleading with you, now, as his body grew overwrought with pleasure and just needed release. You needed it, too, not even knowing how you would get it, but the force of his thrusts, the warmth of his body, the look in those warm, bare, powerless eyes—you fucking loved whatever it was that could make a man like that so weak.

You had to strike while the iron was hot. You slid back.

Joel didn’t notice, too focused on your face and the feel of your body to see when you’d reached for the gun.

Just as you took hold of it, a jolt of pleasure tore through you. Your heels dug into his back, and you nearly lost control of the pistol. Joel groaned in your mouth, begged you once again to cum all over this cock, make a fuckin’ mess of it, baby, please, and you could only whine, grip the metal tighter, and raise it slowly to the side of his head while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

The peak of your pleasure had come into view. You felt it.

You nudged the muzzle through those soft, slick, salt-and-pepper shaded tufts of hair near the edge of his temple right when the first throes of euphoria seized you.

“FUCK!”

You squeezed the trigger.

#NEED DARK!JOEL TO TAKE ME TO HIS PENTHOUSE AND FREAK ME IN WAYS UNIVERSALLY CONDEMNED BY POSTMODERN FEMINISM #IT'S SOOOOO BAD Y'ALL #this might be too niche but i hope at least one person enjoys LOL #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #dark!joel

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spideyanakin · 2 years

Text

10 Things I Hate about you - Chapter 1

Eddie Munson x Harrington!reader

Synopsis - A new rule strikes the Harrington household: if Steve wishes to date ever again, his sister needs to find a boyfriend first. As Steve becomes desperate and thinks of everything in his power to set her up, only one guy comes to mind that will take up a challenge such as that: Eddie Munson.

warnings - Season 1 Steve 👎 , and frog dissecting

word count - 8.2k

proof read by the amazing @inknopewetrust

series masterlist 🌻

the playlist

Author's note - this takes place before the events of season 1, and instead of it happening in November 1983, I changed it to be around April 1984 :)

"Steve, what is this?" Your father slammed a piece of paper on the empty space next to Steve's breakfast. You leaned over to snoop at what was printed on the page. As if second nature to the black ink, you flinched when the line of D's and C's on his report card became clear. Your father’s hand splayed on the paper, your eyes followed the hand only to see his angry face.

"Dad, I swear I can explain! This new teacher has been giving us hell!"

"In every class?"

"No, but–" You watched him fumble with his words as you continued sipping on your orange juice. A loose strand of Steve's hair had fallen onto his forehead as he made frantic movements with his hands in a poor attempt to save himself.

"You're telling me that all of your teachers are being extra mean lately?” His face challenged Steve with narrow eyes. Like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a top hat, he pulled out another paper— your report card.

“Explain this then.”

A neat line of A's mixed in with two stray B's had been stuffed in Steve's face.

He looked in between the paper and you, and then gazed back up to your father. The overbearing, middle-aged man cleared his throat before reading a teacher’s note on Steve’s card.

"Mrs. Jinkles says: Steve is a peculiar student. Although his grades were acceptable last semester, I can see his attention slipping away. Chats too often in class, homework is handed in late…” He peeked up from the sheet back at Steve whose face was sullen. “Shall I continue?"

"No." Steve closed his eyes with a huff, opening them again to meet yours. "She's been distracting me with her loud music and protests and things!"

"That's a lie! Dad, you know that's a lie! He's always with his girlfriends! Bella is what? Your third girlfriend this month!?" You defended yourself in a valiant effort. Steve couldn’t just throw you under some bus to be run over because his personal life was impacting his academic one.

"I just broke up with her,” he replied with the hope it still saved his ass from ruin.

"Then why are you putting the blame on me for your bad grades!?"

"Because you are distracting me!" Steve maintained.

"We both know that's not true!" You protested as you looked at your father whose mouth was opened to speak, but was quickly cut off by Steve's own defense. Your father fixed his glasses at the bridge of his nose and sighed as he watched the two of you bicker, waiting patiently for his turn.

"What are you jealous of me or something? Because you can't get a boyfriend?"

"Have you seen the unwashed miscreants that go to our school?" You snorted. "Plus, high school relationships are… weird. I don't know how you can date someone and know it's never going to last."

"You're just jealous because you're mean to everyone and can't keep any friends."

"Steve!" Your mother interrupted him from the other side of the table. She had been watching the morning unravel like a thread from a wool sweater. Each defense, each lie, building the spool left to wither on the floor.

At her interjection, you watched your father's eyes light up with an idea, his eyes quickly fixing themselves back on Steve’s as the report card stayed glued between his fingertips.

"Ok!” He nearly shouted from the noise. “Stop it, you two, now! New rule: Steve isn't allowed to date until you do." He pointed to you and a loud laugh escaped your lips.

‘This was his punishment?’ You thought to yourself. How pathetic.

"BUT SHE'S NEVER GOING TO FIND A BOYFRIEND BEFORE THE END OF HIGH SCHOOL!" Steve wailed as his hand met the table and shook the glasses–its contents swooshing like the sea.

"Oh,” your father chuckled, “I really like this." He nodded in self-approval. "We can sleep in peace knowing you'll both pass Junior year and then graduate with no distractions." His angry face had turned into a content one. He dropped the two report cards on the sideboard behind the dining table before sitting and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"But that's not fair!" Steve started whining which made you grin and stick your tongue out to him as you grabbed the maple syrup bottle and poured some on your pancakes.

"When your sister dates, I'll trust you to date again."

"But-"

"No buts! It will teach you a lesson," he said pointedly.

"I hate it here" Steve groaned, throwing his head back, and sighing in desperation. "Mom,” he tried one last path, “you can't let this happen!"

"I'm sure you'll survive without girls for a year and a half." She didn't look up from the apple she was cutting. "I'm sure it will do you some good."

The clock struck 8:30 slower than Steve would have liked, and he found his head hurting earlier in the day than he wished. As he waited for you, he turned up the volume, his car radio already playing Africa by Toto. He closed his eyes, trying to get the distant chatter and morals about how that was a 'good lesson' for him to learn and girls were 'not the only thing he should care about' away from his thoughts. About a minute later, you stuffed yourself and your bag in Steve's passenger seat with a sigh as the peaceful music started to dance across your mind.

"Could you at least change?" Of course Steve had to start speaking again. As if his whining over breakfast hadn't been enough.

"Why? You don't support women's rights?" You looked down at your shirt. You were wearing a tight white shirt that showed off your shapes with red hand prints painted over your boobs, and one hand print on the side of your ribs. It was controversial, it was risky. However, it was completely and utterly you. "You don't think women should speak up?"

"I do, but It's weird enough I'm driving you to school. I don't need you to be dressed like… this," He looked at you up and down. "At least close your sweater until we get there?"

"Deal with it."

"God!” He griped. “I can't wait for your car to get repaired."

"Can you shut up, please?" You closed your eyes. "I'm trying to enjoy this music. I don't own this tape."

"Yeah, that's because you spend all your money on that devil worshiping crap that makes my ears bleed."

"Don't you insult my music taste," you hit him with the sleeve of your sweater, which caused Steve to instantly hit you back with the back of his hand.

"Hey!" You slapped his shoulder.

"You hey!" He slapped your shoulder back.

You slapped his arm as a reply and he did the same, an endless slap fight like the multiple ones you had as kids starting. You continued bickering, in an attempt to win you tried to kick him but your leg was stuck in between the side of the car and your bag. So instead, you slithered a hand into his perfect hair and shook it all up.

"NO! Y/N NOT THE HAIR! Please!" He yelled. Hands flying to stop the way your arms and shoulders came down. When he was satisfied that he was safe, he reached up for the rear mirror. "You really had to?"

"Yeah, you deserved it. Now start the car or we're going to be late for school."

"Oh, and I wonder who's fault that is?"

"Please tell mom and dad you've got a boyfriend or something."

"No." You slammed your locker in front of his face and shouldered your bag.

"Please?" He begged again, following as you started walking towards class.

"Why do you want another girlfriend so badly?" You wondered aloud as you removed the tape of Kill ‘Em All from your walkman; pocketting it to replace it with Master of Reality.

"Because this time I really really like her! I want to make a move but you didn’t help me at all, and now they’re just being assholes about the grades!”

"They're not being mean," you shook your head, laughing to yourself. "Have you seen your grades? I get where they come from."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You don't know how hard it is to be paired with her and not being able to actually ask her out, or just hold her hand and kiss her. First period was hell. I absolutely need you to get a boyfriend."

"Mm-mm, nope." You shook your head no. "I told you, dating in high school is stupid." You pressed the on button and Steve could faintly hear the start of Children of the Grave playing. He watched as you placed your headphones over your ears, clearly wanting out of the conversation.

He made a frantic move to step in front of you. Blocking your path forward, you stopped because his puppy-dog eyes hounded you. "Please?" His hands came together as if he was praying. You barely heard the word, but you could clearly read his lips.

"No!" You said it a bit too loud over your music. Steve's face changed to a look of defeat, and then, he gave you the finger.

"I hate you." You barely heard the words but could clearly make them out again.

"Love you too!" You pouted and made a heart with your hands, grinning as you watched him roll his eyes and drop his hands in defeat. "Bye," you almost screamed before disappearing into another hallway but held it back in a small victory.

You tossed your bag over your chair and melted in your seat the second you walked into the classroom. You felt a hand reaching up next to you and before you could even register the intruder, your headphones fell from your head and onto your shoulders.

You turned your head to meet Barb’s figure in the seat beside yours. She had a concerned look in her eyes–which she always had but that early in the morning? Something had come up before the bell had even rung. "What's the fuss? I've been seeing you bicker with Steve all morning,” she asked you honestly.

Barb was a good person, a good soul. Sharing with her the quarrel between Steve and yourself wasn’t going to spread a million rumors of some stupid family fued or that you were ‘morally or ethically against high school romance.’

You took a second to breathe, the faint intro of Sweet Leaf coming from the headphones now resting on your shoulders. Had your music really been that loud before? The music came to an abrupt end when you flipped the switch, placing the walkman into a firm grip, and setting it into your bag.

"Steve's mad because our dad made a ‘new rule.’ He's not allowed to date until I do," you wiggled your eyebrows and watched as Barb gave you a silent laugh. The crinkles around her eyes proved that amusement had reached her.

"Oh my god,” Barb drawled, “no way," she whispered as she watched Mrs. Jinkles put her glasses back on to stand up to close the classroom door.

"Yeah, Steve is bribing me to get a boyfriend." You chuckled and she snorted at the thought.

"I don't think I've ever seen him single ever since he walked into Hawkins High."

"Me neither. Apparently he really likes this one girl and wants to date her. That's why he's trying to convince me to get someone." You tucked a strand of hair away from your face as you fished for your book and slammed it a bit too harshly on the table. "Tough luck."

"Please?"

"No."

"I'll do the dishes for two months."

"No."

"Three?"

"Still no."

"Ok, seven!"

"Steve,” you sighed heavily, “what is going to make that little head of yours understand that I don't want a boyfriend."

"You don't actually need one, just to tell mom and dad you have one!"

"I won't do that,” the idea of it just sounded… wrong.

"Why?"

"Because I don't like lying."

"That's bullshit,” he laughed in disbelief.

"I'm not going to help you. So stop asking me." You moved your hands around as you tried to mimic your frustration. "Who’s the girl you want to ask out anyway?"

"Nancy Wheeler."

"What?" You chuckled in your own incredulity. "Is this some kind of joke? You want to date my friends now?” If you could underscore the importance of my, you would have a million times over.

"Friends?"

"Alright, well more like a… good acquaintance; a school friend! But you get my point." You crossed your arms.

"I actually think I really like her! She's super nice. We have physics together."

"Right," you rolled your eyes at him. "Look, I won't help you on this one. Maybe, just maybe, you can think about getting better grades and dad will change his mind. And Nancy Wheeler is far from your type just so you know." You noticed but Steve's face softened at your words. If she saw Steve’s grades, she’d go running for the hills.

"That's what I like about her, though. She's different from the other girls I've dated before."

"Yeah, yeah, spare me the speech Romeo. It won't work on me." You scoffed and oddly enough, lifted your head to spot what was written in bold letters on the chalkboard.

Romeo and Juliet

"See, we even get to study forbidden love. How cute," you patted his shoulder, and he grumbled something you couldn't make out before complaining for the thousandth time today.

"I knew advanced English was a mistake." He melted in his seat as if the subject had defeated him already.

"Morning, class," Mr. Arnold cleared his throat, “now that we are fully finished with World War two poetry, I thought it was the perfect time to start on our beloved Shakespeare." He clapped his hands and asked a girl named Lisa Hemingway if she could hand out the multiple copies of Romeo and Juliet that created a tower on his desk.

The senior girl stood up and grabbed as many copies as she could. When Mr. Arnold saw she couldn't carry them all, he assigned a red-headed Junior named Connor who sat in the front row to hand out the rest.

"I already hate this," Steve mumbled as the second the copy of the pile hit his desk. He took it, groaning as he flipped through the pages. They smelled of must and mildew; ten years of dormancy only to be opened when love was at its most shallow point.

"It's not that bad,” you told him as the next copy hit yours, “I've read it before. The story is pretty gripping."

"You've read this for fun?" He questioned as if it repulsed him.

"Yeah," and you shook it off like a piece of lint on your shoulder.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"Consider yourselves lucky, we won't do any reading today!" Mr. Arnold stated when Lisa and Connor went back to their seats and only two books remained in the pile he had stacked earlier that morning. Two missing students.

"Connor, I believe you're good friends with Mark?" He questioned the redhead who nodded. "Could you hand him his copy when you see him?" Mr. Arnold handed him the book, leaving only one stray to rest lonely on his desk. "Right, back to work," He sighed.

"Today, we are mainly going to focus on learning about the man behind the book," he smiled and sat atop his desk. "Can anyone tell me what they know about Shakespeare?"

You raised your hand.

"Please lower your hand," Steve begged. "You're embarrassing me enough as it is and I don't need you rubbing it in my face that you skipped a grade."

"I skipped a grade in elementary school, Steve" You whispered back.

"Miss Harrington?"

"I've noticed that he's always written strong female characters,” you began, against Steve’s wishes. “In Romeo and Juliet, Juliet is strong-witted and smart. She might look and be helplessly in love, but she's still intelligent and understands a lot of things women are told not to. It feels like Shakespeare understood the struggle of women, especially in works like…” You pondered, “Twelfth Night. Viola must be the strongest female character in history."

Mr. Arnold nodded along as you continued on. "Viola is shipwrecked, and left an orphan so she disguises herself as a man to get by. It's a brilliant feminist writing for its time."

"I do agree that Shakspeare tends to write strong female characters, but you do forget that mature women tend to miss in most of his work. And when he does, he makes them mad or somehow evil."

"Yeah, you're totally right,” You agreed.“But still, he doesn't rule them out or make them faded background characters like other writers from that century–"

The door swung open in the middle of your words. All the heads turned away from Mr. Arnold, you, or their books, and revealed the owner of the lonely book: Eddie Munson.

The hair on his head was wild, a patch on his jean jacket was two stitches from falling out. One of his shoes was completely covered in dirt and a crumpled paper sat in his ringed hand.

"What have I missed?" He grinned with perfectly white teeth; barring it for Mr. Arnold as the older man sighed at the intrusion but had learned to expect nothing less from Eddie Munson.

"Strong female characters in Shakespeare," you spoke up before Mr. Arnold could get a word out. He had, after all, interrupted your train of thought.

"Great!” He said at first as though it were intriguing enough for him to stay. But as he continued, his words became shells of sarcasm. “Sounds amazing, keep up the good work," he nodded before opening the classroom door and walking straight back out of it–not a minute had passed since he entered it.

"Mr. Munson!" Mr. Arnold attempted to call out, but quickly realized it was useless and crossed his arms in aggravation. "Is he even trying?" He sighed to himself, shaking his head in despair before grabbing the stray copy of Romeo and Juliet and opening it to the last page where a small description of who Shakespeare was, was written.

"Shakespeare!"

You never got to pick up where you left off.

"I need Y/n to get a boyfriend," Steve declared as he dropped his tray on the table and looked at you expectantly from across the room.

You were standing on the other side of the cafeteria behind a table. Nancy, Barbara, and another girl he didn’t know stood beside you. Your sweater was long gone and the shirt you had made was exposed. Nancy and the stranger Steve didn't recognize wore the same one while Barb was holding pamphlets next to you. A white banner in front of the table spelling 'WOMEN'S RIGHTS, WE HAVE A VOICE!’ BAKE SALE stood proudly in black and red lettering.

"Good day to you too," Carol looked around his tray before snatching his granola bar. "Ew, who even eats the nutty fudge flavor?" She scrunched her nose before throwing it back on his tray. She shouldn’t have ever tried to take it from him today.

"They were out of butter almond, sorry," he replied dryly before taking a seat and starting to pick at his food. "Anyway, my dad started this new stupid rule where I can't date another girl until Y/n finds a boyfriend," Steve looked back at you again and back at his food.

"Oh my god."

"I know!"

"You're fucked."

"You mean unfucked, for the rest of high school." Tommy snickered with a sly grin.

"Haha,” Steve’s face flattened, “very funny." He poked at a french fry before dropping his fork completely. "It doesn’t have to be this way! I can try to help her get a boyfriend! It’s not that hard to find a date!"

"Good luck with that. I heard the last guy who tried to ask her out got a broken nose… bled all over the gym floor."

"God, I don't even know how we're related," Steve sighed helplessly. "My point is–” he clarified, “if I want to ask Nancy out, I need her to find someone, and quickly. My chance with Nance will go right out the window otherwise."

"You in a rush or something?"

"Do you know how hard it is to be paired up with her and not get to ask her out!? It's pure torture!"

"Calm down Casanova," Tommy ripped the top of his milk carton. "The only way you're going to get a guy to go out with her is if you pay him," he took a sip of his drink before speaking again, "and even then, you'd have to pay him good money."

"I could do that," Steve mumbled as if the idea wasn’t screaming ‘that is a horrible idea, don’t do it!’

"Wait, that's actually a brilliant idea!” He settled on instead. “We just have to figure out who we're going to pay."

"Hmm," Tommy looked around the cafeteria and for once, every male student was a fresh pick. It could be a squirly freshman or a hulking senior and either would want the money and laughs for kicks. "Sam?"

"The A.V club nerd? Do you want him to get even more bullied? She made him cry once, remember?"

Tommy scrunched up his nose at the memory. But, the guy would admit he had an itching to see it happen again.

"Cameron?" Carol suggested as she perked her head up at the game.

"A Jock?" Steve laughed in amusement. "She would kick him in the balls before he even could get a word out."

"Byers!"

"No, no,” Steve objected, “he's too… soft. She'll eat him alive."

"Yeah, but don't they listen to the same music or something?"

"No, he listens to The Clash."

"And? Isn't that what she likes?"

"No, she's more into that hard rock stuff" Steve threw his fry back into his plate. "We're never going to find anyone."

"SHIT!" The big double doors of the cafeteria flew wide open, Eddie's voice boomed inside. He was holding what looked like one of those beakers from science class filled to the brim with a neon blue liquid. He skidded to a stop as the doors flew open, looking in the direction best suited for his escape as the bubbles began to form at the beaker's top. Steve had no idea what it was, but by the look on the face of the teacher who was running after him… it didn't look safe.

“MR. MUNSON!” An angry, elderly voice called after him as the doors teetered on open and closed, open and closed.

“This is my beaker, Davis!” He shouted at the teacher coming closer with every second. Eddie moved quickly, trying not to spill the liquid as his exit was drawing closer with every step. “You can’t take it away when it’s not finished!”

“MR. MUNSON THAT IS A DANGEROUS EXPERIMENT!”

“COME AND TAKE IT FROM ME THEN!” Eddie shouted back as the cafeteria watched in hilarity and ridiculousness. Eddie Munson could always cause a scene, bring a little bit of joy, and go back to being an outcast the same day.

"Oh God,” Carol rolled her eyes, “what is he up to now?" She brought her stare back to Steve and her boyfriend. "Did you hear, they're saying he won't graduate this year?"

"Rumor has it it's because he went to jail for a month. Remember when everyone was wondering where he was?"

"I thought it was because he went off and tried to join a cult or something?"

"Didn't people say it's because he was posing for a porn magazine?"

"I heard he ate a live duck once"

"Everything but beak and feet."

Steve narrowed his eyes as he watched Eddie grab a cookie from your table as he passed by, muttering a thank you as he put it in his mouth and continued his run. You shouted something at him about being an asshole. Steve's gaze fixed back on Eddie as he left through the doors, the opposite side of the one he came from, beakers still in hand and the cookie already half chewed.

Mr. Davis who was following him had his glasses crooked over his nose and the little hair he had left was flying around as he tried to catch up with the mad teen. He kept his eyes on the door as it closed behind them.

"Jesus! That guy is deranged!”

Biology wasn't Steve's favorite subject, especially when he had just eaten a full meal and they had to dissect frogs. Mina Trevor had already thrown up and was sent to the nurse, and a Junior named James fainted the second the frog was put on his table. That left the quiet Lisa, whom he had been paired with, to work alone on the repulsive task.

Even with gloves, everything was slimy and disgusting. Tommy wasn't being helpful as he did everything on purpose to mess it up, and would wiggle his dirty fingers in front of Steve's face just to get a go at him. For a second he envied you. He knew this was the type of thing you'd do with a smile on your lips, and he knew you would enjoy every second of it when it was your turn next period.

"You're being disgusting," Carol noticed, scrunching her face as she watched her boyfriend clown around with a piece of the frog. The smell made her want to gag. Her gaze traveled to behind his shoulder, spotting Eddie Munson paired up with one of his friends at the back of the class.

He pulled a knife out from his pocket and stabbed it in the middle of the frog, his friend chuckling as he did.

"Hey,” she called out to the two boys as the thought popped into her head, “maybe we should set Munson up with your sister." Carol smirked as she watched him poke around the dead animal for a brief second before stopping.

Both Steve and Tommy turned around to follow her gaze. All of their eyes were on Eddie as he pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, using the gas tap in the middle of the table to light it up. His friend scrunched up his nose and grabbed the cigarette from his lips, putting it out on the frog.

An unintentional branding of a dead frog.

"Yeah…" Steve's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "How did we not think of this at lunch!?"

"Because he's a mad man!? Steve, you're not serious?" Tommy turned back around to face his girlfriend and best friend.

"He's the only guy on the list she won't scare off! Have you seen him? He's the perfect candidate."

"Plus!” He added. “He definitely listens to the same music as her, and reads the same nerd shit.”

"I wouldn't do it,” Tommy tried to argue, “she's still your sister, Steve. Eddie's just… trouble." The expression on his face quickly changed with his thoughts. "Although, I would love to see the freak try to seduce your sister," he smirked.

"How funny would that be?" Carol slapped her hand on the table. "And he's totally broke. He will gladly take your money."

Steve's eyes sparkled with mischief as he turned back around to take another look at Eddie Munson pulling another cigarette out of the carton.

"I think we found our guy."

The next morning, Steve opened his sock drawer to find as much of his leftover cash as he could to invest in his little plan. With the box of stray coins and the savings he kept hidden behind a pair of blue striped socks, he found about a hundred dollars. It was a bonus that Tommy and Carol had promised to chime in when they chose Eddie as the candidate–or victim… he wasn’t sure if you’d eviscerate the metalhead or not.

Steve grabbed his wallet and pulled a twenty from it. In addition to the ten bucks he already had in his pockets, that would be enough to convince Eddie, pay him, and still have spare money for lunch.

"Why are you smiling?" You wondered as you watched your brother make his way down the stairs; a pair of white high top Nikes in his hand and his blue sports bag hanging on his left shoulder.

"Nothing,” he grinned like a madman, “I just realized my time as a ‘Handsome Bachelor’ might actually be nice." He kept smiling before sitting down on the last step and lacing up his shoes.

"That's the spirit" Your dad mumbled from behind his morning paper.

"You're acting suspicious. Mom, don't you think he's being suspicious?" You turned your head to her to get the reassurance that his demeanor was off and you weren’t losing it.

"Let your brother be," she fixed a strand of hair. "Honey, can you pass me the coffee pot, please?"

"Of course," your father passed the pot towards her while you eyed Steve, an apprehensive eyebrow raised.

When Steve gave you an innocent shrug back, you placed two fingers in a peace sign to your eyes and then switched to pointing to him before taking your seat at the breakfast table. The words of ‘I’m watching you’ silently said.

The only benefit to this breakfast was that it was more peaceful than the previous one.

"Thank you for being dressed appropriately today," Steve mumbled as you buckled your seat belt a half hour later. Breakfast settling in your stomachs, school was the only thing that could distract you from the curiosity-biting enigma that was Steve Harrington, your dutiful, stupid brother.

"Right… because sports class is more important than women's rights."

"Yeah, it totally is, and it’s gym, not sports class," He mumbled as he started the car. "Also you've read the book right? Romeo and Julie" Steve narrowed his eyes as he watched the road.

"Juliet."

"Right, yeah, what happens in the chapters we were supposed to read?"

"You haven't read it? Steve, have you seen your grades?" You gawked at him with baffled eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he brushed it off, “just tell me what happened?"

"Firstly, they’re not chapters, they’re acts and scenes,” you lamented, “and if you would have even taken the time to open the book, you would have seen that we only had two scenes to read which equals to barely ten pages."

"Good for you,” he replied blandly. “So, what happened?"

"Street fight between the Montagues and Capulets,” he would just badger you with questions the entire way anyway, so you faulted and told him what happened.

"The what- what?" He stopped the car at a stop sign.

"Oh fuck off."

"What do you mean ‘fuck off!?’ I'm asking for your help!"

"And I'm telling you: read. the. book. I'm not your tutor."

"But you've already read it! So, I don't need to! We can just unite our Harrington brains."

"I'm not helping you,” you shook your head.

"You're being really mean lately, you know that?" He argued because he didn’t get his way.

"I thought I was always mean,” you tipped your head to the side, “that's why I can't get any friends, remember?"

"Yeah, but you're being even more mean. You won't help me!" The ride to school gladly came to an end as he finished his sentence. You opened the door, your bag already over your shoulder.

"I'll see you later," you slammed the door of his car shut and started to walk away.

"Hey! What did I do!?" He shouted out of his car's open window, but you flipped him the finger instead. Steve looked at you as you disappeared into the crowd with a confused look on his face.

"Crazy," he muttered as he thought back to the way your face fell and your words became dry before you slammed the door in his face. He grabbed his bag, confusion riddled over his features as he made his way to the football field.

He eyed the crowd of students that sat on the bleachers. The entire junior class sat in the middle and a few seniors who had a free period were scattered at the opposite ends, chatting away and finishing up the last touches of their homework.

You sat in a middle row, eyes glued as you listened to the teacher. Steve knew you had seen him, he also knew that you knew he was watching you. You had that determined look in your eyes every time the two of you got into arguments. That look where you had to win. That you wouldn't let him talk to you again until he made a move.

But of course, Steve knew he had done nothing wrong.

His eyes landed on Carol and Tommy who were sitting at the end of the front row. Carol was sipping on a cup of coffee she had gotten from the machine in the school hallway next to the teacher's lounge. The disgusting watered-down taste made a shiver run through Steve just thinking about it.

"Alright class," the teacher blew his whistle, indicating to Steve and the other stray students who were still standing to take their seats on the bleachers.

"I want you to split into your groups,” everyone knew where they were assigned. “We're starting soccer with group two. So group one and three, do whatever you want as long as you're back by 10:30." He blew his whistle again and the whole mass of students started moving around the bleachers.

"So, how much did you manage to collect for ‘mission boyfriend?’"

"A few bills," Steve nodded. "I think it should be enough."

"We collected a 20 for you if that's any help," Carol fished through her bag before handing it to Steve. "Here."

"Thank you very much," he looked at it proudly before adding it to the 30 he already had.

"When are you going to talk to him?"

"Not today. She's in a very bad mood. She went all crazy on me this morning," Steve looked at you from his spot in the bleachers. He watched as you redid your shoe laces and grabbed the soccer ball Tina threw your way.

"I thought you were in a rush to ask Nancy out?"

"I am,” he nodded, “but I also don't want the plan to fail"

"Well, she looks fine now," Tommy looked at you. You had just kicked the football in James’ face–your poor classmate was rubbing his head and the teacher had called to you both. Your voice faintly climbed their way, hearing you say something about it being an ‘accident.’ They watched as James walked away from the field because the teacher sent him to the nurse's office.

Steve contemplated his options. You did look a bit calmer, but he recalled the way you flipped on him. "Yeah,” he breathed out. "I'll do it today."

"You could do it now."

"Now?"

"Mhm,” Carol hummed, crossing her leg over the other and leaning on the level behind her. “He's in Ms. O'Donnell's class, right? She's called in sick today which means they have nothing to do all morning." Carol looked up to a group of seniors beside them on the bleachers. Their math notebooks scattered across the step they were using and they were arguing over an answer. "Hey!" She called, their heads turned to face her. "Is Eddie Munson in your class?"

"Yeah," one of them chuckled at the mention of his name.

"Perfect," she turned back to Steve. "He must be on school grounds then!"

"Fantastic!" Steve stood up, wiping the back of his jeans with his hands before grabbing his gray sweater and slipping it on.

"Try the drama room first. I'm sure he's setting up his next sacrifice," Tommy laughed.

"Don't let him scare you," Carol giggled.

"Very funny."

It would be a lie to say that Steve's heart didn't race at the idea of finding Eddie sacrificing a rabbit in the middle of the drama classroom. His hand toying with the end of his sleeve as he walked across the empty hallways.

He passed by the coffee machine in front of the teacher's lounge, hearing chatter from behind the wooden door. The sudden reminder that he was in school and not in the horror film he was creating in his mind brought him back to reality. He shook his head, reminding himself it was just silly high school jokes. Eddie wasn't a cult leader; he probably hadn't even gone to jail for 2 months or had never even done a quarter of what people gave him credit for.

So, he took a deep breath and arrived in front of the drama room. Peaking through the window, bright, colorful banners were hung on the walls. Papers and posters of plays taped everywhere and he could see a glimpse of the big CATS poster that terrified him: yellow eyes with silhouettes dancing staring into the room. Steve's hand found the courage to rest itself on the handle, he took another breath. 'This was school. Teachers are around. They would notice if something weird was happening in there.' With that thought, he swung the door open.

To his surprise he didn't find the room lit only by candles with Eddie dancing around in a circle and chanting words in a language he didn’t know. There wasn't a rabbit in the middle of the wooden floor, or circles drawn using the poor animal's blood. No dusty books of spells resting beside the non-existent circle or placed in Eddie's hands.

The reality was that a table had been pulled from the back corner where all the props were stuffed in the theatre’s off season. Eddie presided at the head of the table on a large black throne; ornate and gaudy. He recognised it being used in the latest school production of Camelot. Steve had no idea what the play had been about, but he remembered seeing it on stage.

Sitting to his left was a boy he recognized from biology. On the table was a large board that looked exactly like a board game–but Steve couldn't tell what it was. ‘Definitely not Monopoly,’ he thought to himself.

Figurines in different sizes and various shaped dice were scattered in the middle. Steve never had seen a game with that many dice and definitely hadn't seen that many different shapes–only the average four sided one. The ones like you and Steve would lose as children which resulted in you now only using the same pair for every game.

The two boys were looking at papers that were scattered between them with pencils in their hands. At the center of the table, a big glass jar that looked right out of a fantasy film was filled with the blue liquid Eddie had stolen from the chemistry classroom a day prior; a big dragon figurine of matching color sitting on the lid.

Steve might have stayed frozen a bit too long because he could start feeling their stares.

"Can we help you?" The boy next to Eddie wondered as Steve’s frozen figure interrupted their work.

"I um-" Steve blinked the shock out of his eyes. "I wanted to talk to Munson, actually"

Both boys blinked in a similar fashion and a short laugh escaped Eddie's lips.

"How do you even know my name, Harrington?"

"Everyone knows your name," he replied like it was obvious. Like Eddie couldn't do everything he did, or have all of these rumors dancing around him like flies and that people wouldn't know who he was. "I want to ask you something."

"Shoot," Steve had gained Eddie's curiosity.

"I want you to ask my sister out."

"Excuse me?" Eddie blinked in disbelief. Of all the things Steve Harrington could have said, that was not something Eddie had ever thought to think.

"I will pay you."

"Jesus, Harrington, what kind of fucked up household do you live in?" He turned to his friend whose eyes were wide open upon hearing the request.

"No, please just listen to me," Steve took a step closer. "Our parents made up this new stupid rule where I can't date until she does. And trust me, no one would be brave enough to date her, unless they're getting paid or-" He paused mid-sentence.

"Or they're me?" Eddie took the words out of his mouth, punctuating his sentence with a smile.

"Yes! Exactly! So, what do you say?"

"Is she pretty?"

"What?" Steve surely had seen Eddie steal a cookie from your table not a day before.

"Your sister,” Eddie reiterated, “you can't just expect me to have low standards."

"Yeah, she's pretty?” Steve felt awkward saying that. “I don't know, man! That's my sister."

"Wait, what's her first name?" Eddie's friend asked.

"Y/n."

"Oooh yeah, yeah she's really pretty" he nodded and turned his attention back to Eddie. "Y/n? You know, sits next to him in English, protested for women's rights at lunch yesterday? Broke Jeff's nose? You said she was hot once?"

"That's her?" Eddie's face lit up, a large smirk rising on his lips. "How much?" he crossed his arm over his chest. "And I hope it's good money Harrington because it better be worth a broken nose."

"Ten bucks a date." Eddie looked at him blankly.

"Doesn't cover the stitches if she punches my nose and has those pretty rings of hers on."

"Fine. Fifteen. Take it or leave it, trailer park."

"Well, let's think about this,” Eddie leaned back on his throne, “we go to the movies, that's what? Ten bucks? We get popcorn that's um, fifteen. She's going to want coke too right? I assume. So, that's twenty." He looked to his friend for confirmation, "and then well, I would have to drive her, and filling up the tank costs money. So… we're looking at a good fifty bucks a date."

"That much?" Steve winced. He could already see himself only having the Kudos bar that was probably already half smashed by the weight of his books for lunch, or that Carol had most probably already stolen.

"Yeah," Eddie had a fake sorry look on his face. "You must understand… I'm putting my life on the line for you here."

"Would you do it for less?" Steve turned to Eddie's friend who's eyes widened even more.

"Nah, man. I wouldn't even do it for a hundred." That made Steve's shoulder slump a little more than they already were. He took a second to look at Eddie who was giving him a ‘fifty or nothing' look.

Steve quickly weighed his odds at finding another guy. No one would bite the bait he was dangling, but Eddie Munson had.

"Alright," Steve got his wallet from his back pocket and started fumbling with the bills, handing everything he had over to Eddie.

"Damn Harrington, you must be really desperate," he chuckled as he counted the money. "When do you want me to ask her out?"

"Today."

"Desperate and in a rush? Fabulous combination."

"She finishes soccer at 10:30. You think you could meet her at the bleachers?" Eddie thought for a second, pretending like he was going through all the important things he had to do this morning before answering.

"Yeah, I think I can make it."

10:20 - Steve was head deep into the first page of Romeo and Juliet. His butt started hurting from sitting so long on the hard wood of the bleachers, and his stomach was already growling from knowing it won't have much for lunch. And as if his day couldn't get worse, Carol had found the Kudos bar in the bottom of his bag and claimed it as her own; wrapper already in the trash and bar in her stomach.

"Do you know what Maidenheads mean?" Steve pointed to a word on the page, leaning in towards Tommy. "I'm sure I've seen that word somewhere," he mumbled. "Maybe on one of Y/n's tapes"

Tommy squinted his eyes as he read through the sentence, "are you sure this is even English?"

"Hey, Steve," Carol interrupted, Steve's gaze lifted from the book to meet hers. "Look," she nodded her head up towards the top corner of the bleachers with a smirk on her lips. Steve turned around to look at what was so interesting, and he wasn't disappointed.

Eddie was smoking in the back corner. His back leaning against the corner wall and his legs laid out on the step. His jacket was balled up next to his black lunch box on the step just below. He was looking at the field, probably trying to spot you.

"You should be happy. He's taking this seriously."

"Yeah," Steve looked at his watch before closing his book and putting it in his bag.

"Still can't believe he took fifty bucks from you just for the first date," Tommy snickered as he tossed his cigarette between the openings of the steps. "You're going to be so broke by the end of the month."

"Shut up," Steve whined. The money talk reminded him of the page he kept in his school assigned daily planner. He grabbed it with his pencil case and opened it to the page in question. "How much did I spend on that movie yesterday?"

"Three dollars"

April 11 - Lunch $7, family video $3.

April 12 - Eddie $50.

He closed his book and neatly placed the little blue elastic around it and stuffed it back in his bag.

The teacher's whistle made Steve's heart race and his palms started to sweat. Anxiety munching at his stomach as he wondered if Eddie would make him spending fifty dollars worth it, or if the poor guy would have to spend the evening in the emergency room. At least he would have the money to cover it.

He looked at his watch and then back at the field. You were walking towards your bag; hair moving up and down as you climbed up the steps of the bleachers. From behind your shoulder, he could see Eddie putting out a cigarette and grabbing his jacket.

You were already making your way down and your feet were back on the grass when Eddie caught up to you.

"Hey, sweetheart, how you doin’?"

"Sweating like a pig actually and you?" You turned your head to meet Eddie's surprised eyes. Wiping the sweat off your forehead with your forearm as you gave him a tight-lipped smile.

"Now that's a way to get a guy's attention," he cheered back.

"My mission in life," you sighed, taking a sip from your water bottle. "You're that guy from The Hideout aren't you?" You narrowed your eyes as you scanned his face. "The one who stole a cookie from us at lunch yesterday.” You knew he was a senior. You hadn't seen him much around school, but you knew you recognized the crazy hair and big brown eyes from somewhere.

"Ah, now I'm very sorry about that. Here wait," he raised his finger, "I'm sure I can compensate for the loss" You watched with a raised eyebrow as he fished for something in his back pocket, his hand coming back up with the cash Steve had handed him. "Ah-ha! Here–take, um, how about twenty?"

You eyed the twenty in his hand and then back up to his eyes. You raised an eyebrow, but he seemed dead serious and determined to give it to you.

"I don't want your money," you shook your head and pushed his hand away.

"Alright then,” he shrugged and pocketed the money. "If I heard you correctly, you go to The Hideout?" He seemed surprised because he never noticed you there before. And if he could admit it, he surely would have recalled seeing you there.

"I very much do, yes."

That was the first time you surprised Eddie.

"You're from that band–um Corroded Coffin? Lead, right? Electric guitar?"

Second time you surprised Eddie.

"What do you want?" You continued before he could neither confirm nor deny, taking the burgundy sweater from your bag as you waited for him to continue.

"Do you want to go out? On a date?"

"I’m busy."

"Great then! Pick you up at five on Thursday?"

"Oh right, yeah. Totally," you shouldered your bag again and started walking towards the school building.

"Well, you never know. The night might take you places you've never been before," he had that smug smirk you wanted to punch off every boy's face.

"Yeah, right, like the seven-eleven by Mirkwood?"

"Mirkwood?" the question barely left his lips that you started speaking again.

"Do you even know my name, screw boy?"

"I know a lot more than you think."

"Doubtful. Very, very, doubtful," you gave him a tight smile before speeding up your walk and leaving him again.

Eddie's gaze flew up to Steve and Tommy who were watching the scene, half hidden and perched up on the bleachers.

"You're so screwed man!" Tommy giggled as he watched the look of defeat on Steve's face and Eddie's apologetic eyes. "So, so screwed."

Be added to my taglist

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pentaghastx · 9 months

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A Golden Sight in The Darkest Place

For @steggyfanevents Steggy week 2023, Day 2 WIPs & updates One shot written by @thesongofthegreens Photo edited by me @pentaghastx Brief summary: During WWII, Steve wanders off to have a moment alone, however, on top of hill outside the trenches, he finds a beautiful sight that makes him forget about everything around him... just for a moment. Note: This piece was a WIP for a while but we managed to finish it for Steggy week! I always wanted to do a collaborative piece with Artemis where I edited a photo based off their writing, I am so glad I was able to pump this out with them! The photo is mixed in with the writing so keep reading for a surprise that I am very proud of! Read it on Ao3 here!

Thank you for reading! ——— ✴︎ ——— It had been early April, in France. Behind them, there were the remains of all the trenches from the Great War; some trenches still remained, shrapnel and all. At times, the men wandered into them and found trinkets to send home - Steve didn’t blame them. They were sitting ducks for the moment, waiting for orders that were days late.

In those few days, he had wondered if the supposed messenger was dead somewhere, orders tucked safely away, but no closer to his troop than before. He then let himself wonder if he would have to push the company forward, without orders. He would rather push than wait and lose their chance. The mission that was before them could only wait so long, with Schmidt on the move and attempting to make a new base anywhere that could be found, and Hitler's troops scattered in nearly every crevice to be found.

When the sun began to slip under the hill, he had made up his mind: if the messenger did not come by tomorrow night, he would send the men forward into the unknown territory and fight with all the might that they had left.

Rather than stare at the night sky and stay in open territory, he decided to have the men settle into the bunkers, shielding them from weather that might come, or the enemies that might wander. He split his men into three groups, sending each to a different bunker with a radio and a code word to send to those who were on watch.

The first code word was taste, the second being teach, and the final word was tenor. Of course, these were already code words that their troop knew, as well as other American troops, but the enemy would be in the dark, if their line had been intercepted, so long as it was used in a proper sentence.

If the word was wrong, or there was no check in amongst the bunkers every few hours, a secondary call would be made, and then arms would be taken up. He hoped it would not come to that.

After searching the trenches and assessing that there were no threats waiting, the groups dispersed for the night and to hopefully catch a few hours.

The bunkers were empty, but the bunks for soldiers were still there; some had thin mattresses that were covered in a thick layer of dust and grime, even long dried blood from their former owners. Many had only large springs that would dig into someone all night, but keep them high above mold and rats. For most of his men, as long as their pack was against their backs, they could sleep nearly anywhere.

Someone had saved a bunk for him, one of the few with a mattress in half decent condition, as he was the highest ranking among them and meant to lead them into possible battle. As grateful as he was for the gesture, it felt wrong to have been given the mattress when many around him hadn’t been blessed with such rank by powerful serums and mere coincidence.

He left the mattress out and let the men decide who would be next in line for it, settling against his own leather jacket as a pillow until he would take his watch.

He fell asleep to the first signal from bunker two.

05:00 HOURS

He had finished taking his watch a few hours ago, but sleep did not come so easily the second time. He would have to move the men today, without orders or a clear way in. The troops would understand, but he doubted they would be content with the fact that he had moved without a single word coming from the higher ups. They wouldn't mind later, when they, hopefully, celebrated a victory.

Sitting on the springs of his bunk, he could see the light pouring in from the opening of the bunker, inviting him to go out for fresh air, to think over his choices. He took the bait, stopping by the last man on watch and picking up the radio to haul along with him.

As he stepped out of the bunkers and into the trenches, he spared one thought to his father, to how he had died in a trench somewhere, his body left to rot and only a few bones to send home. Steve wondered if his father had even been afraid of death when it came, or if it had been a relief in the face of living more and more days in hell.

Shaking away the thought, he found a slope and climbed it, standing above the trench and taking in a deep breath. The crisp morning air filled his lungs, just as it did in New York, when the fall rain had just swept in. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine Brooklyn and the cars passing down the street. He let himself dream of it, just for a moment, when no one could see him.

Despite the fact that he was sure he hadn’t bathed in a few weeks and he hadn’t eaten more than a few spare crumbs over the last few days, he felt peace.

But he was not alone, nor the first in the sunlight.

Under a cherry blossom tree lingered a figure, with the same color of uniform as himself, though quite different from the men around him - being as she was a woman. But even in a room full of women, she would have stood out, her brown curls framing her face and gently swaying in the wind.

It had been weeks since he had seen her hair out of its usual styling; he assumed part of it was the inability to wash it regularly while they scouted France. And yet… he would have thought she had just stepped from a movie screen.

The cherry blossom petals fell in her hair as the wind continued to move over the land, almost as if to form a crown. She laughed, looking up at them and giving her head a shake before looking down to her journal. A compass was settled on top of the page, her perfectly manicured fingers holding it in place. She was a piece of Heaven on Earth, he was certain of it.

After some gawking that he knew his men would have laughed at, he checked behind him, checking in the trench lines for anyone who might have seen. When there was no one, he moved forward, as if he were already on the mission rather than a few feet away. It was only a few strides before he was right in front of her, wishing to say something poetic.

All that came out of his mouth was, "Am I ruining your sunlight?" You’re a damn fool, just like the rest of ‘em, he thought, before she looked up to him. A smile spread onto her red lips and he knew he was ruined. His heart might as well have been signed, sealed, and delivered to her doorstep… or at least to her bunk.

He shared her smile, sitting next to her, and setting the radio at his feet. Soon enough, the men would be waiting for the moment he would announce that they would be pursuing the mission. But the news would come soon enough. He began picking a few petals from her hair, rubbing them between his fingers. “If you’re not careful, you’re gonna sprout a tree,” he teased, tossing them to her lap, suddenly wishing he’d saved a few petals for his own journal, to press between the pages and remember her, even if his memory was shot after all the years.

“Oh hush, Rogers. You’re interrupting my thoughts.” Her words were sharp, but her voice remained honey; he could have grown drunk on it, if his body would let him - perhaps he already was, with such thoughts swimming around in his mind.

Silence fell over them, but her pen had not started again, not yet. Her attention was on him, and he knew what she was waiting to hear. He picked at the grass, closing his eyes and wishing for one more day. Just another day and he wouldn’t be leading his men to a slaughter. Or it would come for them anyway and he would be a fool. “We have to move them or we’ll lose the Germans, or worse - Schmidt.” At this point, he wasn’t sure if he was facing Hydra or Hitler everywhere he went - both stood in the way of the freedom he was fighting to protect. “And all I can think about is leading them to a troop who may just kill us all.”

He sighed, opening his eyes to find brown eyes waiting for him, already softened and as warm as the sun behind them. “If anyone can lead us in, give them hell, and come out of it, it would be you, Steve. You’ve already accomplished it many times and I have no doubt you’ll do it a few dozen times more.” She paused, pursing her lips before leaning closer. “This is what I knew you were meant for, since the day I saw you jump on that grenade. I always knew you would do great things, with or without a vial of blue liquid.”

It might have been the wind, the stupidity he held within him, or the petals in her hair, but he leaned in as well, his hand cupping her cheek, and turning her head slightly. Their lips met, softly, before her hand curled into the collar of his uniform. At the same moment, his other hand pulled her closer to him by her waist. Though neither of them dared to say it, they both knew it may have been the last one they would share before they marched to their demise. It was that thought that sent him chasing after her mouth when she pulled away, a soft chuckle escaping her before she gave in.

She must have shared the thought too.

Right as his lungs were set to burst, their kiss broke, and both of his hands moved to rest against her cheeks, cradling her as if she were the last treasure he held in this world. A current sent white blossoms floating down to both of them, a small smile spreading on his lips. “If we survive this, Peggy Carter, I’m going to marry you.”

#steggyweek23 #steggy #peggy carter #steve rogers #steggywrites #novaandartemiswrites #novawrites #artemiswrites #our steggy week n&a #captain america

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jokingmaiden · 2 years

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Catharsis Pt. One: Mikey Gets Pissed

i was thinkin abt how all of the kids really need a chance to just get all their feelings out after the movie. since mikey is essentially me, and i felt very qualified to write a raging outburst from a youngest-sibling-pacifist, i started here. i might write the rest if this is received well :P

(side note: i tagged this as ooc bc i don't have a lot of faith in my characterization skills)

Word Count: 2,351

Warnings: angry mikey, implied mystic violence, the beginnings of a panic attack, brief reference to leo's attempted self-sacrifice

“APRIL!!”

The sound cuts through her phone in a desperate plea, the sheer panic enough to make her think the Krang have returned somehow.

“Jesus, Donnie, what’s wrong? I don’t think I’ve heard you this upset since Leo broke your Atomic Lass bobblehead.”

“While that was a HORRENDOUS crime punishable by DEATH,” the purple-clad mutant explains in a huff, “this is much worse.” His picture on their facetime call hunches over the phone, blocking her view of the audible commotion behind him.

“What’s the situation?” she asks, voice lowering into one of serious inquiry.

“Well—”

“MIKEY’S GONE BALLISTIC!!” Raph’s voice interrupts, and April is treated to watching as an indignant Donnie’s expression fades into the background while Raph holds the phone a bit too close to his face to be taken seriously.

“I’ll be right over,” April decides, collecting her things. She pauses, though, at Raph’s next words.

“No. Stay where you are. I don’t know why Donnie thought it’d be a good idea to get you involved in this, but you can not come here under any circumstances. Capiche?”

“No, not capiche!!” April barks back incredulously. She throws her stuff down into her mattress hard enough to warrant a slight bounce. “What are you freakin’ out for? Mikey would never hurt anyone. He literally made your worst enemy into your dad. He’s a sweetheart!!”

Raph leans close to the phone, voice grim as his shadow overcasts the camera. “April, listen to me. You don’t know our little brother like we do. You haven’t seen him when he’s angry.”

“Because he doesn’t get angry,” she clarifies, brows furrowed. “I wouldn't be surprised if his head's full of cotton candy. You’re being ridiculous. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“April wAIT—” Raph pleads, but her thumb is disconnecting from the end call button before he can utter another word of senseless panic to her. He’s being ridiculous, and she knows it. Even with his weird new mystic powers, Mikey would never hurt a non-enemy.

Right?

April feels the slightest tug of doubt at the corners of her mind, remembering his craze during the worst pizza week of the boys’ lives. He was fully intent on hurting those punk weirdos. But he was easily pacified by Raph lifting him off the ground to incapacitate him and then feeding him pizza. Why would this be any different?

She climbs down into the manhole on the street, thanking her gradually-built-up noseblindness to the sewers. Her immunity made it much easier to resist the stink, even if she could still smell it for the first few minutes of traversing the sewer system.

Mikey shouldn't be a problem. Sure, Dr. Delicate Touch was scary sometimes, but he was just brutally honest. Mikey would sooner pull one of his teeth out than hurt someone in his family, she was sure of it.

Within ten or so minutes, and several cycles of internal reassurance, April makes it to their secret hideout. She steps inside and immediately keeps an eye out for Mikey, not bothering to try to put up any sort of mental nor physical defense; Mikey would never harm her. She knows it.

“Angelo?” she calls out, looking around the base cautiously still. “Guys? Anyone home?”

“April!!” a familiar voice greets, full of young, innocent glee. The orange-clad turtle of the quartet comes barreling out of the kitchen to pull her into a delightful hug, which she graciously accepts.

“Lil' bro!!” she greets, smiling brightly at him as relief floods her body. Of course he’s fine. Why wouldn’t he be fine? The boys were overreacting.

“I'm so glad you're here!!” Mikey cheers, leaning back to look at her. April feels her chest squeeze as she notices the pinprick of tears in the corners of his eyes. “My brothers all disappeared and I can’t find them!! I thought it might be some sudden game of hide and seek or something, but they just won’t come out!! I’m getting really worried.” Almost as if to emphasize the sting in her heart, his little pouty face erupts in heartbroken puppy eyes.

How could those jerks do this to their little brother? Not only is he not mad, but he’s also worried sick!!

“Don’t worry, little bro,” April assures, smiling brightly at him as her hand comes down to pat him twice on the arm. “They’re here. They actually called me a bit ago!! They seem to think you’re angry for some reason?”

Mikey's eyes sparkle with what seems to be hope, nodding along with her explanation. His smile widens as she states the last part of her story. “Oh, weird!! Good to know they’re still here. Can you pleeeeaaaase help me find them? I’ll look in Donnie’s lab, you check around here!!”

“Sounds like a plan, little man,” she sings, shooting him finger guns. He giggles happily and scampers off towards Donnie’s workshop, leaving her to head into the kitchen alone.

Her smile falls immediately.

A plethora of sharp objects are sticking out of the walls, embedded deep into the concrete. Other objects of various sizes are strewn about, some dented on the floor below clear impact zones as if someone twice Raph’s size had launched them with the intent to kill. And in the middle of it all is Leo, upside down, tied up with duct tape, and hanging like a spider’s next meal. He looks beat to hell and absolutely terrified. The moment April comes into his line of sight, he begins trying desperately to scream around strips of tape.

“Holy shit!!” April exclaims, running forward to pull the binding on Leo’s mouth off. “What happened here? Are you okay?”

“April, thank the great pizza place in the sky,” Leo pants, wriggling against his restraints. “Mikey’s lost his mind. Can you get me down? We gotta get dad.”

“Wait. Mikey did this to you??” she asks incredulously, a single laugh escaping her in disbelief as she pulls him down. He hits the kitchen island with a loud crash, and she wastes no time slicing him out of his taped cocoon with the nearest sharp object. “What did you do to piss him off this bad??”

“Well," Leo begins sheepishly, sliding off of the counter and kicking away the remains of the residual stickiness attached to him. "We maaaaay have ruined the mural he’s been working on since he was a kid in the east wing tunnel while sludgeboarding...?”

She blinks slowly at him.

"So, let me get this straight," April begins after a long moment of staring at Leo in pure shock. "After everything you went through a few months ago, the second all your wounds are healed, you decide to try out a completely new made-up sport? And not only that, you test it in the only tunnel Mikey has a claim on??"

"Well when you put it like that, we sound like terrible brothers," Leo laughs, the noise quickly dying off when April doesn't join him. He clears his throat of the awkwardness, looking away from her burning gaze.

"Look, I get it. We messed up big time," Leo relents. It seems as if he's about to continue, maybe to deliver a heartfelt and emotionally impactful speech, when his eyes widen suddenly. He stares over her shoulder at an unknown source of terror.

April turns around to see what Leo is gaping at.

Holy shit.

Mikey stands—no, he floats—in the doorway, Raph suspended in a cloud of orange glow behind him. The youngest turtle's eyes shine a bright topaz, interrupted in the center by near-yellow pupils.

"Oh, good, you found Donnie!!" Mikey hums happily. "The gang's all here."

He flicks his hand, and Raph goes barreling into the wall. As April's eyes follow the collision, she notices the purple-themed turtle standing in the opposite doorway, clinging to his tech-bo with trembling hands like it'll save him from his little brother's mystic rampage in any way.

"Mikey, buddy," April tries to soothe, caution in her voice. She takes a nervous step backwards, hips colliding with the counter. "Let's take a deep breath."

Mikey looks at her as the glow from his form disappears. He drops to the floor, tilting his head in confusion. "Why are you scared, April? I'm not mad at you."

"I'm glad," she laughs quickly, eyes scanning over the room for escape routes. "I just, uh, also don't wanna watch you murder your bros with your wack-ass emotion fueled mystic mumbo jumbo?"

Mikey gasps, offended. "I would never hurt my brothers!!" he insists, balling his hand against his chest like a Victorian lady clutching her pearls.

"YOU JUST LAUNCHED ME INTO A WALL," Raph protests, struggling to his feet with Leo's assistance as if he hasn't emerged from much greater falls unscathed before.

"Funny! Y'know what other wall you got launched into, Ra-pha-el?" Mikey hums, tapping his chin thoughtfully as he articulates each syllable of his brother's name. Raph shrinks in on himself, falling into his usual habit of trying to make himself smaller in the face of discomfort.

"Oh, right!! The wall with my life's work on it! The wall with the mural of all of us I was making!! The wall with the only accurate picture of gram-gram we had left!!!! The wall I can never remake again because I busted my hands open ripping a hole in space to save our idiot brother from his suicide attempt!! THAT WALL!!!!"

April flinches at Mikey's tone. He sounds...

She studies the way his hands tremble, betraying the crazed smile plastered onto his expression like a flimsy sealant over the cracks in an overfilled dam.

He sounds genuinely furious.

It would be terrifying, if it wasn't absolutely gut-wrenching.

She steps forward, watching as his tirade re-sparks the violent glow around him. He all but ignores her, continuing to scream at his brothers in blind rage, up until she takes his scarred arms into her hands.

It physically upsets her stomach, the way he flinches at the contact. He goes completely silent, almost ripping his hands away from her, but she holds him steady.

"April, go home," he orders. In any other situation, she'd be in disbelief of his audacity. Maybe the way his voice sounds more like it’s begging, or the desperate hush of his words, convinces her to pardon him from a meeting with the business end of her bat. "This has nothing to do with you."

"This is my family as much as it is yours, Angelo," she insists, trying to tug his again-floating form to the ground. "Talk to me."

He stares at her for a long moment. His full figure trembles under her grip. The glow fades around him, and he properly lowers back down to the floor.

"I-I..."

No other words escape him as the dam finally breaks. He collapses over her shoulder, sobbing loudly as his padded knees buckle under him. April may be quite strong now, but he’s still a large mutant turtle, so she opts to lower slowly to the ground instead of trying to support his full weight.

He curls around her, sobbing desperately and letting out pained mewls at each attempt to stifle his sound. His chest heaves, and April has to do everything in her power just to keep him steady.

“There there, big guy,” she soothes, rubbing a comforting circle into his shell. “It’s alright.”

With the switch from fury to heartbreak, Mikey’s brothers are on the pair in seconds. Raph scoops the two into his lap, wrapping his arms around the both of them for extra support. Leo leans over Raph’s shoulder, hand coming around the larger turtle's neck to gently rub his little brother’s head. Donnie sits cross-legged next to them, reaching into the pile to give Mikey’s hand a firm squeeze.

“I-I just,” the youngest turtle finally manages after several minutes of sobbing, “I don’t—hic—know what to do!! How am I ever gonna make art again like this??”

The brothers look at each other, then to April, all lost for words. She sighs, lifting a hand to Mikey’s cheek to gently draw his attention.

“Mikey. Your hands will heal,” April assures, but he only scrunches his expression, leaning away from her touch and into Raph’s chest to cry harder.

“What if they don’t?” he manages. It sounds as if he wants to scream it, but his hoarse voice corners him into a desperate whisper.

“…The original Michelangelo fell incredibly ill while directing the construction of St. Peter’s Basilica,” Donnie begins, staring down at his free hand with a concentrated expression. “Even in the last week of his life, he found ways to help with the building process. He even kept sculpting, even though he probably shouldn’t have considering the meager state of his health. He kept making art up until his last day.”

“And ol’ Angelo the first has nothing on you!!” Leo adds, nodding thoughtfully to himself. “If some ancient fleabag can sculpt til’ he drops, then there’s nothing capable of stopping our little brother from making amazing art no matter what.”

“Besides,” Raph chimes in, “creativity is like, your thing. If anyone can figure out a way to make art in new ways, it’s you. Maybe you can use your cool mystic powers or somethin’ to make stuff if your hands can’t anymore?”

Mikey sniffles, curled up and bleary-eyed from the encouragement of his family. “….You really think I can keep making stuff?” he asks, voice soft as if daring to hope too loud might shatter the illusion.

“‘Course you can,” April laughs, gently flicking him on the forehead. “You wouldn’t be Mikey if you couldn’t.”

With a big, toothy smile, Mikey pulls them all into a group hug. “I love you guys,” he sighs, sniffling as he holds them there. Leo leans in happily; Raph readjusts to make sure his arms are supporting everyone; Donnie tolerates the contact, for Mikey; April leans across her spot in Raph’s lap to give their little brother a proper hug around the shoulders.

A long, wonderful moment of this peace passes.

“I am still gonna tell dad about the mural, though.”

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dearclem · 1 year

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* ( ! ) 𝒍𝒖𝒙 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒔

when: april 1st, roughly 11:47PM. where: towards the back of rhee's bar & grill. what: solo for this plot drop. warnings: ocd, broken bones, blood, mentions of death. mentioned: sry i'm not tagging none yall. clem adores too many of u dweebs 😔

the second game goes into overtime and clem hides a yawn. her social battery is running on fumes by this point in the evening, but the time she’s spent with friends warms her face as she weaves through the crowd towards the back of the bar to relieve herself, much to her own dismay. she doesn't like public restrooms; not knowing how well they were cleaned or who may have used them was enough to make her skin crawl, but a night filled with bottomless water and that singular virgin mojito won’t allow her to last until she makes it home.

she’s meticulous in the way she washes her hands, following a routine she’s had since childhood: rinse. put soap inside right palm. dampen soap. lather on entire surface of hands, then wrists, going up to mid-forearm. rinse. flick fingers into the sink thirteen times. repeat entire process three times before drying hands. finish routine by wiping sink and counter with a fresh paper towel until area is dry. by following the routine, it ensures she doesn't get in trouble and nothing bad will happen to someone she cares about. it doesn't make sense, of course, but obsessive thoughts and compulsions rarely do.

she hears the crowd pick up in volume, indicating the games have finally come to an end for the evening just as she's carefully tossing the paper towel into the garbage and she decides it best to give kage a heads up about her plans. retrieving the mobile from her back pocket, the raven happens to notice the time and her lips curl into a smile as she makes a mental note to give deshaun the right to say i told you so, before firing off a text message:

( clem 📲 favorite ): everything’s finally over! i’m going to stay behind for a bit to help clean up and i promised kennedy i’d wait for her so she can give me something, but i’ll let you know when i’m on my way home 🖤

she’s in the process of putting her phone away when she exits back into the hallway, but the stairs leading to the basement catch her eye, stopping her in her tracks just past the edge of the wall. staring down the darkened descent serves as inspiration, kicking her imagination into overdrive and lights her up like a christmas tree. ❝ oh, why haven't i used this before! just imagine all the horrors i can hide in a dark, damp, creepy basement! ❞ the exclamation is spoken softly, lost in the murmur of the patrons still reeling from their own alcohol-infused excitement, before she senses someone approaching. believing it to be someone who needed to use the restroom like herself, she moves to grant them more room within the hallway, offering them a politely spoken, ❝ oh, excuse me. sorry, ❞ for taking up space. clem is so focused on committing her ideas to memory so she doesn't forget them before they can be written down that she can't bring herself to shift her attention despite her feet beginning to carry her back to the floor.

she’s only able to take a couple steps of her own when she realises she can hear the other's footsteps reverberating throughout the hallway---an oddity, given the lively atmosphere of the place---and, wait, why do they sound quicker than usual? her movements cease as clem's head whips forward so she can find out why.. except she's given no time to react before she's shoulder checked by the stranger.

they’re much stronger; solid and broad, especially in comparison to herself, and there's enough force that it knocks her off balance, but she hadn’t realised just how close she’d gotten to the edge of the initial step in her attempt to give them more room to pass until her foot slips off the edge, ankle rolling, and suddenly she’s free falling.

instinct wastes no time kicking in and she tries to catch herself, but the impact of her weight landing on the outstretched arm when it comes in contact with one of the steps immediately renders it useless and it caves. her world is spinning now, causing her to lose all sense of direction, but even knowing the best way to protect herself, learned through the research she’s stumbled across throughout her career as a writer, it does nothing to help her. using one's arms to protect their head and curling into a ball to roll down is nowhere near as easy as people make it seem and just as clem starts to think she's found a never ending staircase, she finally lands with a resounding thud, paired with a groan as her head ricochets off the basement floor.

the irony of the situation and the way it played out similarly to that of one she’d considered for her protagonist would be enough to elicit a chuckle had she not been in so much pain. her entire body aches: arms, legs, ribs, back, neck, head, and she could’ve sworn she heard things crack on her descent, though she can’t pinpoint exactly where and clem chokes back a sob. she doesn’t risk moving, both in fear of potentially hurting herself further and.. what if they're still around, looking down at me, watching?

her vision swims as dizziness overtakes her. her consciousness is beginning to slip, and it worries her, so she does the only thing she can think of to keep herself awake until help ( hopefully ) arrives: she begins to think of those important to her.

aranya, kage, deshaun, monty, jacob, lany, dilara, sadiye, vera, emira, selin, julia, hyejin, lunara, paisley, yasmin, kahlan, kyle, dae-eun, mariana, crawford, her agent, her listeners, malachi---maybe more, but it's getting harder for her to remember names. it surprises her, though, the amount she does remember. for someone who has always felt so alone in the world, she doesn’t have enough fingers to count all of those she cares about most, regardless of where their relationship may stand now, but she can't help wondering why she didn't try to make more happy memories with them? why wasn’t she nicer or more involved? why wasn't she more willing to forgive and seek her own forgiveness? most importantly, when's the last time she told them i love you? even after the loss of vivian and amoni, and almost losing jacob, why did she continue to take it all for granted?

it's getting harder to keep her eyes open and she can feel her stomach churning, though it's hard to tell if that's due to the level of pain she's in or the possible concussion. blood trickles from the laceration on her forehead into her eye and it burns, but her body is battered and bruised, making it impossible for her to wipe it away and she wonders if this is how she's going to die; alone, scared, and hurt by a combination of her own stupidity and the cruelty of another------and when her world goes black, she swears she hears her mother's voice:

it's not your time yet, so go continue making me proud, clem. you have people waiting for you.

#꒰ 🎙️ ꒱ self para ╱ 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒎 𝒅𝒖𝒑𝒐𝒏𝒕 ◞#ocd tw #blood tw #death mention tw #i wish this was better but that'd require me being both willing to reread the shit i've written #and being a different person entirely and well :/// aint neither ever gonna happen so :/// dont @ me

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l0reenthusiast · 1 year

Text

I posted 1,710 times in 2022

That's 1,710 more posts than 2021!

279 posts created (16%)

1,431 posts reblogged (84%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@the-gayest-sky-kid

@l0reenthusiast

@toothlesshat

@journal-number-3

@mothbonez

I tagged 1,031 of my posts in 2022

Only 40% of my posts had no tags

#venti - 58 posts

#rottmnt - 56 posts

#genshin impact - 55 posts

#bro - 23 posts

#genshin - 22 posts

#barbatos - 21 posts

#rottmnt movie - 20 posts

#yes - 16 posts

#lunasmr - 16 posts

#reblog - 15 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#'yes this would be considered but what are they going to do? lock me up?here's an antidote to the poison you accidentally ate! take care! <

My Top Posts in 2022:

“What if I Could Make The Wait Worthwhile?”

GIVE IT UP FOR DAY 4 OF VENTOBER BABY

Word count: 549

“I still can’t understand how you’re able to keep a straight face when people talk about you when you’re nearby.” You said with a giggle, laying on the lap of your boyfriend. Venti laughter soon accompanied yours as you reminisced on the now ended Weinlesefest.

“To be quite honest, there have been times when someone in Mondstadt will say ‘Barbatos’ and I end up turning around thinking they’re talking to me specifically.” Venti replied. This made you burst into laughter more.

As you laughed you rolled over on your side as Venti smiled down at you softly. You never truly know, what you do to him, and perhaps you’ll never know. From the moment you confessed to him that fateful birthday, things had never been the same between you two. In a good way, of course. Even if you hadn’t confessed, he had wanted to spend an eternity with you by your side. Ever since you came into his life, he could never imagine a future without him, neither could imagine a future without the other. He had heard you speak to Jean about a possible future with him, considering she’s been married to Lisa for the longest time, and he couldn’t have been happier to stumble across that conversation.

Your laughter quickly died down as the thought of what’s soon to come crossed your mind. You sat up, a your eyes filled with sorrow.

“Are you alright, Windblume?” Your boyfriend asked, concerned.

“I know you already said this was coming, but… do you really have to go?” You asked in a whisper. The bard immediately knew what you were talking about. His hibernation. After each Weinelesefest, Venti has to go into a sort of hibernation. You both knew that this was coming, but it still didn’t lessen the pain from the da t that you wouldn’t be able to hear or speak to each other for months.

“I’m sorry Windblume, but I have to. I can’t help it as a Whisp. We both know this.” He spoke softly, attempting to comfort you. Venti took his hand and cupped your cheek, which you leaned into without hesitation. “I promise I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Sure, but… the wait is gonna be so boring. I already can’t stand a day without being with you.” You replied, attempting to lighten the mood. You placed your hand over the one Venti was using to hold your cheek, bathing in the few remaining moments you would have with him for a while.

“I know it will, but what if I could make the wait worthwhile?” Venti asked with a smile. You cocked a brow at his question, but ultimately nodded. Venti took his hand away from your cheek and stood up, extending that same hand to help you stand. You took your turn to stand as you watched Venti reach into one of his pockets, both of your hands remaining intertwined.

Venti kneeled down as he pulled the now open box out of his pocket. Tears pricked your eyes as you brought your remaining hand up to your face, covering your mouth. Venti looked at you with the most you had ever seen from him as he spoke;

“My love, my warrior, my shining star, my Windblume…

Will you marry me?”

204 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

currently farming for venti’s boyfriend

275 notes - Posted April 29, 2022

LEN KAGAMINE???

520 notes - Posted September 16, 2022

everyone, i would like to present to you:

MY WIFE

593 notes - Posted August 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

SAGAU but it’s Creator!Y/N and the archons as incorrect quotes

Creator!Y/N: That's ridiculous, Venti doesn't have a crush on me. Ei: Yes he does. Zhongli: Yes he does. Venti: Yes I do.

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Venti: If I punch myself and it hurts, am I weak or strong? Creator!Y/N: Strong. Ei: Weak. Zhongli: An idiot, is what your are.

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Zhongli: How late were you up last night? Creator!Y/N & Ei, in tandem: Me? Zhongli: No, not you two. You stay up late all the time. Zhongli, to Venti: You.

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Creator!Y/N: I just want someone to take me out. Venti: On a date? Ei: With a sniper gun? Zhongli: Both if you're not a coward.

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Ei: Do you love Creator!Y/N? Venti: Yeah, I do. Ei: Zhongli! I told you I knew it! You owe me 100 bucks! Zhongli: We all love Creator!Y/N. You should've asked if they were IN love with them. Venti: I thought that was implied. Zhongli: ... Ei: ... Venti, looking straight at Zhongli: Congrats Ei, you just won 100 bucks.

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Creator!Y/N: For self defense reasons, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely. Zhongli, Venti, & Ei: Okay. Creator!Y/N: If you don't want to die, give me all your money. Zhongli: Bold of you to assume I have money. Venti: Bold of you to assume I don't want to die. Ei: Bold of you to assume I can die.

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Creator!Y/N: I’m so happy two of my favorite people are getting along now. Zhongli: Uh, Venti and Ei are not getting along. Creator!Y/N: They’re not trying to kill each other. Zhongli: You may have a point.

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Ei: You were stabbed. Do you remember anything? Creator!Y/N: Only the ambulance ride to the hospital. Ei: That wasn't an ambulance, I drove you. Creator!Y/N: But I heard a siren. Zhongli: That was Venti. Venti: Sorry, I got nervous.

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I’m gonna do this but with the Sonic Fandubs soon.

667 notes - Posted March 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #I KNEW THAT THE SAGAU QUOTES WOULD BE MY TOP POST LMAO #I STILL GET NOTIFS FOR IT TO THIS DAY #i also knew aether was gonna be my most reblogged person too sddcferfedw

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warrenwilkinson · 1 year

Text

We all need someone to hold

TIME: April 4th, 2023 PLACE: Warren & Maya’s place BETWEEN: Maya ( @msmayaparker ) & Warren NOTES: Written on Discord. Several TWs (check tags) Title from here

Warren wasn't even sure what had possessed him to stop the car by the alley behind the hotel but when he did he heard them. He frowned as he got out of the car and walked closer to where the garbage containers were, and he heard it cleared. Kittens.

He had no problem with animals, but animals usually had a problem with him, so he only nudged the shoes box with his foot when the kittens meowed again. More desperately this time and something in his chest twisted. With a heavy sigh he leaned to uncover the box only to find two little felines. One orange with stripes and the other white with a soft brown muzzle. He reached to touch them and the orange one didn't hesitate to hiss and throw its little claws at him making him chuckle, "little firecracker! Stop that," he said with a smile only to get another attempt to rip his finger off, "yeah that's not gonna work," he rolled his eyes and closed the box again, picking it up and getting back in the car, "guess we're going back home," he told the fiery kittens as he started the car and drive back to the house. They could deal without him for a day.

As soon as he got home, he realized Maya was at work already, so he moved the new tenants to the bathroom while he changed and ordered some stuff online for them, "watch over this door for me ok buddy?" He asked Hermes when he noticed the dog's curiosity as he paced outside the bathroom door.

Work went by quickly. Now that she remembered what she was doing. Her boss had hinted again that maybe she should try going back to school. To her that seemed like nothing more than an idle fantasy. Maya was not the kind of person who went back to school. She walked up the drive to her and Warren's home. It was a beautiful spring day, perfect for walking.

Opening the door, she was surprised that Hermes didn't come to greet her. The Bernese-Rottie was usually waiting for her by the front door. Warren, she assumed was at work. After dropping her denim jacket on one of the kitchen chairs, Maya opened the cabinet, looking for a glass and thinking about what to make for dinner. Hearing a noise, her head turned to it immediately. "Hello?" she called. She grabbed the chef's knife. Just in case.

As soon as the kittens food, litter, litter boxes and toys arrived, he changed and settled everything in the bathroom for the kittens but then he noticed the fleas and that called for immediate action. He wasn't counting on how hard it was to give a cat a bath but that was not a mistake he was gonna make again any time soon. He cursed in Germany as he tried to keep the white kitten from clawing to his arm when he heard Maya’s voice. Was it so late that she was already home? He hadn't noticed time flying by while he dealt with the tiny devil spawns.

He settled a bunch of towels on the floor for the balls of fur to finish getting dry and then left the bathroom but that only caused Hermes to start barking again cause now he stunk of wet cat, "calm down, buddy!" He petted the dog before walking to the stairs, "it's me," he called from the stairs, so Maya knew he was home, and he was glad he did when he made it to the kitchen and noticed her with the knife in hand. He chuckled and raised both hands in surrender. His t-shirt was yet and dirty and there were a few fresh scratches down his arms and one right on his neck, "I got home early," he explained, "next time you better grab the angelic one," he teased as he moved closer, "I got you something," he grinned wondering what Maya would say about the idea of more pets.

Her grip on the knife tightened when she heard Hermes barking. Although, it did, ironically, make her feel a little calmer. At least Hermes was still okay enough to bark. Warren's voice coming down the stairs made her frown in confusion though. Hermes had long since stopped barking at Hermes. They were buds now. Or at least she had thought they were. Maya was still holding the knife when he entered the kitchen. Not so much on purpose as she hadn't thought to put it down. "Hi honey," she said, setting the knife down as she realized she was holding it.

"Is it a fight with a blackberry bramble?" she asked as Warren moved closer. The scratches on his arms and neck didn't escape her notice. Nor did the fact that his shirt was wetter and dirtier than she would expect it to be from work. The scratches looked superficial and the damage to his shirt was minimal. Still, it was confusing. Maya leaned up to kiss him in greeting, still curious as to what he was up to.

He smiled like an idiot when she called him that and moved closer to her, "I love it when you call me that," he admitted and then chuckled at her question, "not exactly," he rubbed the back of his neck before placing both hands on Maya's waist and lean down to kiss her back, "we have some guests in our main bathroom," he murmured against her lips, a kitten reluctant to pull away, "I was on my way to work when I found something and got back home," he explained as he tangled their hands together to guide her upstairs.

"Maybe I should've asked first but I couldn't leave them there," he added as they got to their bedroom, "how do you feel about cats?" He asked sure that she could already hear them meow across the door.

Maya blushed slightly. She didn't think of herself as the kind of person who used pet names. It had come naturally though, she made a mental note to do it more often. As she always did, she fell into his embrace like gravity. "In the bathroom?" she asked, confused. Still, she followed him upstairs.

As they approached the bathroom, she spotted Hermes. He was pacing, seemingly nervous. "Hey buddy," she said, scratching him behind his ears, "You and Warren up to something?" Faintly, Maya could hear what sounded like cats. "I like cats," she said. Some of the foster families had cats and usually she got along with them best of the family. As they moved into the bedroom, she thought she had an idea of what had happened and what she would find on the other side of the bathroom door.

Opening it, she indeed found stray cats. Stray kittens in fact. "Hi sweeties," she said softly, immediately recognizing something of herself in the abandoned creatures.

Warren nodded when she asked if the guest were in the bathroom, “I thought it was the safest place to put them in the meantime,” he said with a shrug and a sheepish smile.

He chuckled when Hermes huffed but moved closer to Maya for attention, “I’m not sure he’s happy with the idea of siblings,” he said a little amused. He was glad to see Maya’s positive reaction, “They’re clean now, but I’m not sure they’re happy,” he closed the door carefully and leaned against it, giving Maya to approach the little kittens, “they were in a box behind the hotel… covered in fleas and starving so I thought maybe we could give them a temporary home while we figure out what to do with them,” he said still uncertain of what she would say. He would be more than ok with the idea of keeping them, but he didn’t know what she’d prefer, “unless you want us to keep them?”

She was only mostly listening now that she saw exactly what was going on. The rest of her attention was carefully focused on the kittens. She moved forward slowly, giving them plenty of time to show signs of displeasure. When they didn't, Maya knelt beside the pile of towels. They meowed up at her. "Big guy took you to a strange place, huh?" she said as if she could understand them. It was natural as breathing for her. Hermes joined them, sniffing carefully around the new creatures. She looked up at Warren when he offered that they keep them. Her green eyes scanned over his expression, looking for what was underneath it. "Do you want to keep them?" she asked.

Warren pouted when the kittens seemed to be complaining about him to Maya, “Hey, I was careful, you’re the ones who attacked me,” he said in a soft tone, smiling when Hermes got closer to Maya and the little kittens. His expression shifted from tenderness to worry when she asked if he wanted to keep them, “Uhm… I like animals, they just don’t like me,” he sighed. “It took Hermes a little to feel safe around me. I know it’s their instinct to stay away from me, so I don’t wanna make it hard for them to have to be near me,” he shrugged. The only animals who had ever wanted to be with him were the ones his prophetic horse took upon. Like Thor.

After letting them sniff her hand, Maya scratched the orange kitten behind their ears. "They're in a strange place," she said when Warren argued that the kittens were who had attacked him. She saw the worry in his expression and frowned slightly. It wasn't exactly an answer to her question. She thought he meant yes. It sounded like he might mean yes. But it wasn't quite a yes. "Yeah, but Hermes got used to it," she replied, "Plus you saved them. They'll remember that. So do you want to keep them?" She had no issue with keeping them. They seemed sweet. That and she was never one to give up an abandoned creature. She wanted to know if he was sure though.

Warren smiled and moved closer when Maya scratched the orange’s cat ear, “I know but it’s better here than there,” he sighed in hesitation about reaching to try to touch them. He didn’t want to upset them further. “Yeah, I know… I just don’t wanna make it hard on them,” he admitted. It was hard for him to simply say yes because he wasn’t one to force anyone to be near him if they didn’t want to be. Even with Hermes, he had given him space and let the pup decide if he liked him or not, “I do but… what if they don’t like it here,” he crossed his arms over his chest cause he actually meant that they might not like him cause they seemed pretty content around Maya and Hermes.

The kittens turned to watch him approach. From what Maya could tell they remained mostly calm. One of them meowed again, trying to demand attention. She adjusted how she was sitting. The orange kitten slowly started to explore her lap. Hermes flopped down on the bathroom tile next to Warren. By now he was perfectly comfortable. "It's a big house," she replied, "Someone's gotta fill it." She added a shrug.

It looked like Maya had that same calming effect on the kittens as she had on him. He sat next to Maya watching carefully as the cats explored and sniffed her lap. His smile faltered at her words. Suddenly remembering that dream he had never told her about cause she was right, it was a big house and it was just the two of them. No matter how much he’d like to give her a real and bigger family if she decided she wanted that kind of life he knew it was the only thing he could never give her, “Yeah, you’re right,” he sighed and tried to smile again and moved his hand closer to let the kittens sniff him, hopping they wouldn’t run away again, “should we take them to the vet?” he asked unsure what they needed to do since he had never adopted a pet before. Not a real one.

Maya caught the falter of his smile and frowned. As she did, she continued to pet the kitten in her arms. "What is it?" she asked. The mostly white kitten was far more cautious as Warren moved closer. Her gaze fell to watch the kitten move glacially closer. As far as his question though, she nodded. "Oh for sure, especially if you found them in an alley," she said. She then asked, "Was there a mama around somewhere?"

Warren chook his head and tried to keep on smiling, “It’s nothing, I was just realizing it a big house,” he said with a shrug. “Ok, maybe we should get them there tomorrow. I don’t think they’ll like more strangers around too soon,” he tried to touch the white kitten and it only ran to hid behind Maya, “No, no mama and no other kittens, it was just them in that box,” he pulled his hand away, “should we keep them here in the bathroom or should we get one of those pens for cats?” he asked wondering where would be the best place for them to get used to the house and to Hermes.

It was Maya's turn to shake her head. "It's not nothing," she replied, "Not if its bothering you." She had not gotten into the size of the house much with him. That was a thing rich people did, she thought, buy big houses. She had never imagined herself buying a house, so she had no idea what size of house she might've bought. She liked the house he had bought, or maybe more so she liked the home they had created here.

She nodded, "Tomorrow is probably a good idea." As the other kitten ran behind her, Maya's green eyes tracked the movement. The kittens would warm up to him. Like Hermes had and honestly even like she had, they would warm up to him. The question was how long it would take. "Probably not the bathroom," she replied, "But a dedicated space would probably be a good idea. Maybe somewhere with windows."

"It's not bothering me, it's just that maybe I hadn't considered it actually was a big house just for the two of us," he sighed. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth. "I've had big places before, but I wasn't around much to notice," when he bought the house he hadn't really thought much about the size.

Warren smiled, "ok, I'll call to see how early they can see us and maybe we can put them in my studio. I'll order the pen and we can settle them there with everything they might need," he suggested offering his hand for Maya to take.

Her eyes searched him for a long moment in silence. There was something he wasn't telling her. Between her own hypervigilance and the long hours, she had spent studying him, she knew that much. She also knew that pressing the issue rarely made things better. "There's something you're not telling me," she said, "But I'm going to pretend I don't know that." When he was ready to tell her she would be around, but until then she wouldn't hold it against him.

"Studio sounds good," Maya said. She was glad they had settled on taking the kittens in. She would never admit it, but her heart did have soft spots. Maybe they were bruises, but she was happy to indulge it anyway. Taking his hand, she stood. The orange kitten stayed cradled on her arm while the other pawed at her leg. Hermes had taken to sniffing the towels, sussing out these newcomers.

Warren smiled a bit and leaned in to kiss her temple, " thanks... we'll talk about it another time," he promised knowing it was not the best time. He hadn't even voiced his desire to marry her cause he wasn't sure how she'd feel about it.

He was unsure about picking up the other kitten but stopped himself, "I think they like you better so maybe you should bring them while I set everything on the studio for them.

"Okay," Maya said, nodding. She titled her head slightly forward, letting him kiss her forehead. She worried, of course. Secrets, or maybe just not understanding had gotten her in trouble before. But she had to trust Warren. He would tell her in his own time. Knowing that, even believing it didn't stop some part of her brain from starting to offer its own solutions.

Giving him her best smile, she picked up the other kitten. "I always did get along better with animals than people," she said. Setting the white and brown kitten on her shoulders, she let them explore the new territory. The orange kitten had already fallen asleep on her arm. Maya let Warren lead the way. She knew where his studio was, but she wanted to give him a chance to get anything out before they let the kittens explore.

He was glad she didn’t push on the matter and let it rest. Deep down he was glad to see she trusted him enough not to frown and she didn’t seem to be overthinking it. One day he’d tell her about that dream he kept replaying in his head, wishing one day it could come true even if he knew it was impossible.

“That says a lot about that good heart of yours. They just know when someone is good or not,” he said with a small smile. It was a cute view to see Maya carrying both kittens and how calmed they seemed around her. He didn’t move a lot of things out of the studio but instead he settled the litter boxes and the small beds there and not too far he set the plates half filled with kitten food and the water bowls, “I think it’s big enough for them right?” he asked unsure if maybe it was too big or if the might have a lot of places to hide from them. He really needed to get that pen as soon as possible.

Maya laughed and shook her head. "I think it says more about my issues with authority," she replied, "The pets never asked questions." She didn't think it made her a good person that the pets liked her more than the people. It was easy to get a pet to like you.

Once it was ready, she settled the kittens in the studio. The orange kitten woke back up and started to explore with its fellow. She nodded, "I think it’s big enough." It was sweet the way he worried. She knew that he thought of himself as a monster. Moments like this proved to her it wasn't true though. Still, she knew better than to push too hard at convincing him of it. Her gaze travelled the room, now looking at it with an eye towards safety. Soon enough, she imagined they would probably have the run of the house. Maya watched the kittens explore. "We should probably keep them inside though," she said, "Otherwise they'll ruin the local ecosystem."

He nodded as he kept on watching the cats explore the space with their big curious eyes, “is there something we have to remove so they don’t hurt themselves?” he really didn’t want them to get hurt because they hadn’t been careful enough, especially because he didn’t want Maya to feel bad if something happened to them.

“Oh yeah, they definitively are gonna be indoor cats,” he smiled and offered his hand to her so he could bring her closer to him and wrap his arms around her, “maybe when they get a bit bigger, we can build them a catio so they can be outside without being a risk for themselves and others,” he suggested.

Maya surveyed the room again. Shaking her head, she said, "I don't think so." She certainly hoped not. Cats could be clever, but they were also well equipped to survive. At the very least, there wasn't anything that was an obvious danger.

She let him pull her close, relaxing into the warmth of his embrace. She tried not to think about how long she had denied them both this. If Maya had only moved in when he had first mentioned it. She had moved in now though. A smile curled her lips when he talked about building a catio for them. Laughing softly, she said, "I think you're getting ahead of yourself honey. You haven't even named them."

He tried to relax when Maya said there wasn't anything that looked dangerous to the kittens, "ok, that's good then, we'll still keep on checking on them," he said with a shrug cause he really never had the chance to take care of a pet let alone one as young as the kittens.

It came naturally the way Maya just came close and lean into his embrace and it made him wonder how he had survived centuries without her. He hadn't felt this content with his existences in a very long time and the mere thought of it not lasting enough made him tighten his hold on her. His heart fluttered when she called him honey, "well yeah but it'll be a nice project right? and I think you should name them, we already know I'm terrible with names," he said playfully cause even his sibling had made fun of him for choosing his current name being so obvious to who he really was.

She nodded, "Good idea." Half idly she thought of what he had said once about her not having to worry about pregnancy with him. He had wanted kids then. She wondered if that was still something he wanted. She wondered if it was something she wanted.

As his arms tightened around her middle, Maya relaxed further into him. She nodded again, "It sounds like a lovely project." It really did. Especially if it meant she got to watch him play hot handyman. She was handy with a tool herself. Officer Baer had made sure of that. Scrunching up her nose, she shook her head when Warren suggested that she name them. "I like your name," she replied, "Besides, you found them, you should name them. And if anyone makes fun of your choice, I'll beat them up." She tilted her head to look up at him, stealing a kiss on the underside of his jaw as she did so.

"We can start looking for ideas online," he suggested since he had a very vague idea of how they could build that catio. Warren chuckled, you're a bit biased," he joked and then hummed when she said he had found them and therefore he should name them, "ok, I'll think of some nice names but I'm open to suggestions," he added and then grinned, "my hero," he added cause it wasn't the first time she had promised violence on his behalf.

"Are you going to make a vision board?" she teased a little. Her smile widened when he accused her of being biased. "I think we've also agreed I'm the smart one," she replied. Maya was happy he agreed to name them. She still worried that his life revolved too much around her. He had work, she supposed, but outside of that. Her green eyes retuned to the kittens. One of them was nibbling at the food he had bought while the other was still exploring.

For a long moment, she was content to watch them. By now, Hermes had joined them and already seemed to be trying to guide the more curious kitten from climbing onto the desk. Whatever reservations he might've had seemed to have lessened. "Do you still want kids?" she asked, voice soft and free of judgement. She knew it was dangerous to ask directly. It wouldn't surprise her if he deflected the question back to her. But she hoped he would answer honestly. It was an important thing to know if they were building a life together.

Warren chuckled but shrugged, “Maybe, if it helps I might, haven’t you seen my Pinterest boards?” he joked knowing that the idea of someone like him having Pinterest would make Maya laugh. “That is very true, you’re definitively the better half,” he assured. It was nice to see Hermes guiding the kittens around making soft huffs to let them know where to go, “He’s gonna be a great big brother,” he hummed.

This was definitively what happiness was about. His smile faltered when he heard Maya’s question and he knew she would notice every emotion that went through his face from surprise, to sadness, to regret and disappointment. The one thing in the world he could never give her and it made him wonder if maybe one day that was gonna be what it takes to break what they have, “Uhm… it doesn’t matter if I want to, sugar,” he sighed, “there is no way for me to have my own kids, but if you want us to start a family, we can always adopt as many kids as you want,” he offered with a small smile.

"There are Pinterest boards?" she replied with fake shock. She gave him a smile when he claimed that she was the better half. Rather than try to argue, she kissed him softly. It was easy to pretend that she was the smarter one or the better one, but in her heart, she didn't believe it. It was nice that he thought so though. Turning her attention back to Hermes and the kittens, Maya watched them. She nodded her agreement. "He is," she said.

She could see him out of the corner of her eye when she asked. It hadn't been an easy question she knew. But it was an important one. She waited patiently for him to answer. When it did come, it made her equal parts sad and angry. Clearly, having his own children was still something he wanted. She wondered if with the advancements in science and likely magic it was still impossible. "I'm sorry. That doesn't seem very fair," she said. She sighed, "I've never really thought seriously about it. We always talked about adopting each other after we aged out, but no one would've ever allowed that. And there were a few scares over the years, but I don't think I would be a very good mom."

“Tons of them!” he grinned, “where do you think I get all this amazing outfit ideas?” he joked. He had noticed how Maya usually kissed him instead of starting an argument of something she didn’t agree on or wanted to accept about how he saw her, but he was definitively not gonna complain about it. It was already a great step forward that she wasn’t openly denying it. Maybe one day she would believe it. “They’re gonna drive him crazy,” he chuckled when he saw one of the kittens start following Hermes around.

Warren shook his head, “Hey, don’t be, it’s ok that you ask,” he assured, “and it’s not your fault that I can’t give that to you,” he shrugged, “but I don’t want that to make you feel like it’s something you can’t have,” he swallowed hard, “if you ever wanted to have kids, like I said, we can adopt them and if you wanted them to be yours, we’ll find a donor,” he squeezed her hand, “just because I can’t give you kids doesn’t mean you have to deny yourself from that experience, Maya,” he said seriously. If they considered it, they could just be another couple with fertility problems, there were tons around the world and Warren certainly had the money to afford whatever they needed for Maya to get pregnant even if it wasn’t his. He smiled and shook his head, “you’d be a wonderful mom. I’ve seen you with the kids at the library and at the park with Hermes. You’re good with kids.” He sighed, “remember that thing I didn’t tell you earlier?” he asked moving to sit on the couch and pull Maya to his lap, “I had a dream a few weeks ago,” he started with a sad smile, “I don’t dream often so I knew it was a dream… we were here and I was coming come home from work and you looked just stunning,” he sighed, “you were pregnant and you looked so damn happy. The happies I’ve ever seen you,” he caressed her cheek, “maybe it was just me projecting but if you ever feel like you want that… to experience that, to have kids, don’t let me be the reason that stops you, Maya. I wouldn’t want you to.”

She listened as he spoke and for the first time seriously considered if she wanted kids. She had wanted to help the other kids in the group home. Warren she could easily imagine as a father. He would be a good father. It was harder for her to imagine herself as a mother. She shook her head when he offered to find a donor. "I wouldn't want to have anyone else's kids," she said. If they had kids of their own, she would want them to be his too. As far as if she would be a good mother, she was less convinced. "Maybe, I'm still pretty fucked up," she replied, "I wouldn't want to pass any of my own shit onto a kid."

She let him pull her into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and getting comfortable. His dream didn't bring a smile to her face. It hurt to see how much it hurt him that he couldn't have kids of his own. "Like I said, I've never really thought seriously about it," she said, "It's something married people do, and I didn't think anyone would ever want to keep me like that." It was her turn to smile sadly. She didn't know if that was something he wanted either.

Warren had the feeling that she would say something like that about the baby being someone else’s but his, “I know but it’s a way to do it. A lot of people do it when they can’t have kids on their own,” he added just in case, “but if it’s not something you want then we won’t,” he assured. “Well, we’re all a little fucked up...” he said cause he was the living proof of it, “but because we are we also know what we want for someone else. Less alone a kid,” he smiled, “you don’t see it often, sugar, but you’re caring, loving, patient and a good person overall, all that already makes you more than qualified to be a good mom. You wouldn’t let anything bad happen to your kids. You would do anything to make them happy as your parents surely did for you,” he knew it was bittersweet, but he imagined that was the best way to describe it. He didn’t know what it was like to have parents, but he imagined it must be an even more unconditional love than the one he felt for Maya.

He was confused when she said she hadn’t actually thought about it seriously, “Why did you ask me then?” he was curious now of what would have made her bring up the subject. “Ok we’ll have to go one step at the time,” he smiled a bit, “I do want to keep you forever so let me propose first, then you say yes, then we get married, and we cross that other bridge when the times comes uhm?” he tried to make her smile cause he knew this subject had definitively made them both sadder than happier, “just promise me one thing yeah? If you ever want to have kids, please, please, tell me. I’ve made my peace with that a long time ago, but you don’t have to because of me, ok?”

Families came in all shapes and sizes. She knew that better than most. Although, she had never been adopted, it was something she had desperately wanted at one point in her life. It would've been a real family. "I just..." she sighed, "I don't know, I don't hate the idea of a little you running around. A little me sounds terrifying. And science is way different now than it was then." Maya chewed her bottom lip as he insisted that she would be a good mom. It was hard for her to believe him, although she was closer now than she ever had been. The idea of being responsible for a child still scared her. She would hate for the hurt she still carried to hurt a child. It was bad enough that she knew it hurt the people she cared about.

She shrugged, "I was just watching you with the kittens. And I don't know, the future seems possible now, so we should talk about it." Surprise bloomed on her face when he said it so simply. Sure, she had considered it, but only as a passing fantasy. A castle in the clouds. "You want to marry me?" she asked, "I thought you just said that to shut my grandparents up." She swallowed. "I wouldn't make a very good wife," she said like she was sure of it, like it was a fact. When he asked for her promise, she nodded, "I promise." She did like the idea of adopting or fostering at least. She understood what it was like and that could help. It would've helped her.

Warren smiled cause It was a lovely idea that they could have a little version of each of them. He laughed when she said a little her was terrifying, “I think I could handle a little you,” he said fondly. She was right, science was different, but he had the feeling that God’s design for his kind would be changed, “I guess we’ll research more when and if the time comes,” it was nice to hold some hope to add more happiness to their lives.

He reached to put a strand of hair behind her ear, “the future is possible, and I think we do have a lot to talk about and lot more to share,” he grinned, “Of course I do! I never say something I don’t mean, sugar,” he reminded her and then frowned, “you’re an amazing partner, what makes you think a change of title might change that?” he asked. He relaxed when she promised him, “then we’ll revisit this topic in a few years I hope?”

She smiled, "You handle the big me pretty well." When he suggested researching it if the time comes, Maya nodded. "Okay, that sounds good," she said.

She nodded again, smiling. She liked the idea of having a future with him. It was tinged with warmth, but the surprise didn't disappear from her face. She still didn't think of herself as someone anyone wanted to marry. She was Maya Parker, hot mess express. "I, um..." she swallowed. Walden's voice echoed in her head. "You just deserve the best wife, who takes care of you and makes you crazy happy. And I mean...I can barely take care of myself. A dress still fucks me up." Her gaze fell from his face. "I just want to make you happy," she added, feeling a little pathetic. She nodded, "yeah, we'll revisit it."

“I know that’s why I’m certain,” he winked. Just the idea of a little girl with Maya’s eyes pouting at him was enough to put a big smile on his face. Maybe one day.

He frowned when he heard her cause those words didn’t sound as much as her own but the ones someone else had implanted in her head, “No, in this household, we take care of each other and ourselves and we’ve done a pretty good job doing that,” he assured, “can’t you see how happy you already make me?” he asked tilting her face up so she could see all the love and devotion in his eyes, “we’re gonna have some bad days too, but it’s part of it, sugar. We both have issues we can’t overcome yet, but we will, together,” he pressed their foreheads together, “now, do you know what would make me even happier?” he asked playfully.

She smiled. He would be a good father. She was still sure of that. The question for her was if she would be a good mother. Of that she was much less certain.

She sighed. It was backsliding she knew. She was backsliding again. Maya nodded, tightening her arms around his neck when he reminded her, they had promised to take care of each other. Letting him tilt her face up, she tried to smile. He looked happy. "I love you. I'm sorry," she said softly with her forehead pressed to his. "Is it talking about something else?" she asked.

“I love you too,” he grinned and pecked her lips, “don’t apologize anymore, it’s ok,” he assured against her lips. He chuckled and scrunched up his nose, “nope, to get rid of these stinky clothes and have a shower cause those two were nasty when I gave them a bath,” he chuckled, “how about you join me and then we order something, and we decide kitten names together?” he suggested pulling away enough to look at her. He was amazed how even the hardest topics felt natural to discuss with her. How even if they both hurt by their past and uncertainty of their future, they also found a way to heal each other. If that wasn’t love, then Warren didn’t know what it was, but he was decided to hold on to it.

It didn't seem so heavy or so dark when he kissed her. Instead, she felt safe and warm. At his suggestion, she nodded, "That does sound nicer." She got up, stretching and giving Hermes a scratch behind the ears. "I thought about it you know. When I decided to try wearing dresses again, I thought that maybe if we ever got married, I'd want to wear a dress to that," she admitted as they made their way towards their bathroom.

“I have good ideas sometimes,” he winked. He tilted his head when she said she had considered the idea of wearing a dress for their wedding. The smile on his face was more about the fact that she had considered marry him one day than the idea of the dress, “technically just said you want to marry me,” he grinned as he squeezed her hand, “and if you ever want to try again to wear a dress before we get married, maybe I can help. I don’t know, maybe if I’m there, reminding you that you’re safe with me and it’s just us, it might be less complicated?” he suggested.

"I never claimed I didn't," she replied, smiling back. It was not the life she would've ever imagined for herself. But all her fears around marriage had to do with her own inadequacies, had to do with if she would make a good wife. She had no doubts he would be the best husband she could ask for.

Maya looked down at their hands. Bringing her gaze back up to his, she sighed. "It still scares me," she said, "The idea of anyone seeing me messed up like that." She stopped in the bathroom. "Maybe you're right though, maybe it would be easier."

“I know but you’ve never said out loud before either,” he probably looked like an idiot with the big smile on his face right then, but he didn’t care, “I’m feeling tempted to propose right now but I just really wanna do that right,” he chuckled.

Warren nodded, “I can imagine it does and I guess it’s normal to be scared,” he pulled her a little closer before getting to the bathroom, “it has worked before, right? To have me there to remind you you’re not alone,” he hoped that having him close would keep Maya’s demons away.

She chewed her bottom lip, unable to keep from grinning. "There's still a lot we would have to talk about. Finances, whatever else people talk about," she said.

She let him pull her closer. It was like he had a gravity she was always falling in to. She nodded, having him close always did help. "I don't know if it will help this time though. Everything with Walden, he always wanted me to try them on for him, tell him I loved them. I know how I get, confusing the past and the present. I don't want to hurt you," she said. She rested her forehead against his chest. "Shower, food, kitten naming," she said, standing up straight.

He hummed pretending to consider it, “ok, fine, I’ll wait a bit longer,” he whined playfully even if mentally he had already started to think about the best way to propose.

It was hard for Warren not to tense up when that name came up. He might have destroyed the scumbag but the wounds he had left on Maya would always be there and he hated he couldn’t do more to heal them. He rubbed her back, “you won’t hurt me, I’ll just be there if you want me to, to bring you back when those horrible memories come for you,” he promised. “Yes, that’s the plan, and the sooner get to it, the better,” he kissed her forehead before finally making it to the bathroom.

"We should talk about those things," she replied, "They're important."

It felt like she was already hurting him, like the fact she wasn't healing as fast as she thought she should be. "It’s worth a try," she said. It was at least a try. Maya nodded. "Suppose we should get you undressed then," she said, starting to unbutton his shirt.

“I know, I think we’ll do ok cause we’ve come far from that first talk when we became exclusive,” he grinned remembering how that was their first big talk after the jealousy mess, “if we keep talking about those things, we’ll be more than fine,” he assured.

Warren nodded, “it is and even if goes wrong somehow, we’ll move forward,” he promised. He chuckled and nodded, “we definitively should,” he let her undo his shirt and he helped off her clothes. It was a kind of intimacy Warren had almost forgotten about. It wasn’t about sex and that didn’t mean he didn’t want Maya all the time, but it was different, it was not just lust for her body as it had been the very first time. He didn’t rush removing her clothes. He took his time caressing her soft skin and dropping kisses here and there while he looked at her with all the love she made him feel, “should we make it quick and take a shower or do you wanna take a bath?” he asked pressing a kiss on her lips.

"We don't even know if I can have kids," she added, "I haven't exactly treated my body very kindly." She sighed before smiling. They would be okay. Even if there were things they still needed to talk about, they'd had plenty of difficult conversations before. "Yeah, we're gonna be great," Maya said. She went up on her tiptoes to kiss him quickly.

Some of the tension left her shoulders. They would find a way forward. Even if it was slower than she wanted, she was healing. She would heal from this. Maya nodded, "yeah, okay."

As he undressed her, she did her best to stay still. She had never been good at staying still. It was easier these days. The soft material of her clothes slipped away from her imperfect skin. She felt vulnerable under his gaze, seen in a way she was never quite used to. "We should probably make it quick, so we can check on the kittens," she said as she moved to remove the rest of his clothing. Once they were both naked, her hands traced idle patterns on his arms. "Although, maybe not too quick," she added.

“That’s true but when we decide if we do want kids, we can see someone about and if for some reason we can’t have our own, then we’ll find a way, how about that? We shouldn’t be torturing ourselves with that now. Especially if we’re not even sure we want kids,” he smiled a bit cause he was aware she had said she hadn’t given a real thought to the idea, and he was more than aware of her fears of not being fit to be a mom. Warren was glad she agreed that they would be great cause he truly believed that.

He almost groaned in complain but he remembered the new kittens would need their attention more often than not these first days, “ok, fine, just for the kittens,” he pouted. He smiled when she corrected that maybe they could take some time, “I like how you think,” he turned on the shower and waited for the water to be in the temperature Maye liked before pulling her with him under the spray, “can you believe that we’ve been together for almost a year?” he asked with a big smile.

"Yeah, yeah," she nodded before shaking her head, "I just got caught up in giving it thought. We don't have to decide now." He still wanted kids, she thought, even if he claimed to have made peace with the fact he couldn't have kids of his own. She didn't want to deny him the chance to be a father simply because she was afraid.

She tried to kiss away his pout after saying, "You're the one who decided to rescue them." As if she would've made a different choice. Maya smiled up at him when he said he liked the way she thought. As he tested the water, she took a moment to admire him. He was so handsome. She let out a giggle when he pulled her into the water. Surprise colored her expression again when he commented on how long they had been together. "I suppose that depends on when we start counting," she replied, "It's over a year since the first time that we had sex." She picked up his shampoo, squirting out enough to wash his hair into her hands.

“We have all the time of the world,” he promised cause in a way it was true for him even if she probably would argue about her mortality.

The kiss helped and he sighed, “I just couldn’t leave them. You would be disappointed of me if I had,” he said even tho his real motives had been his own. Ones that probably Maya had already influenced on. He could feel her eyes on him, and he only grinned cause he liked knowing she liked what she saw. He chuckled and leaned down a little when she picked his shampoo, “well that’s true but I meant since we became exclusive,” he added as he let her wash his hair, closing his eyes and enjoying her caring touch.

"I'll go through menopause, eventually," she replied. There was no sorrow in her voice when she said it. For so long, she had not thought she would grow old. It was a gift to imagine it now. She smiled up at him, "But that's not for a long while."

She laughed softly. "I think you would have been disappointed in you in you had," she replied. Sure, Maya wouldn't have liked to hear that he left kittens in an alley. She knew he worried that he was a monster, that in the past he had been something terrible and frightening. But that was not the man she had ever met. Even the night he had killed Walden, she wouldn't classify as monstrous, not when that man had been a monster himself. It was easy, natural the way he leaned down, so she could wash his hair. It was a kind of intimacy she had never dared wish for. He was right; they took care of each other. She bid him stand to wash out the shampoo, so she could put in conditioner. "We should do something," she said, "Go away for the weekend. I have some money saved up." He had far more money than her. They both knew that. But she wanted to treat him. Especially given the last two holidays had been less than stellar because of her.

That was something Warren hadn’t actually considered until she mentioned it, “well yeah but we still have a while for that,” he agreed cause she probably had noticed how she was still too young to think about it.

Warren hummed, “maybe a little bit,” he accepted. He stood up straight to rinse his hair and after she finished conditioning it, he returned the favor, washing her hair carefully of not tangle it. He grinned at her suggestion, “We should,” he didn’t comment on her savings part cause he was not gonna let her pay for everything, “where would you like to go?” he asked curious of what she might have in mind.

She let him stand to wash the product from his hair. "Good thing you brought them home then," she replied, smiling softly. Maya turned to allow him to wash her long blonde hair in return. He wasn't quite surprisingly good at it. She'd long stopped being surprised at his skills. "I kind of like the idea of a little cabin somewhere, just the two of us. Maybe over in Acadia National Park," she said as bubbles slid from her hair down her skin. "Hiking, campfires..." the corner of her mouth lifted in a smile, "Sex obviously." She turned around, "But you have to let me treat you. Since Christmas was all fucked up and I didn't do very well on Valentine's."

“It’s because of you, that I’m learning to be better,” he said simply cause in part it was true. Maya made him want to be better to deserve her. Once he was sure her hair was clean of product he reached for the loofah and their body wash to start soaping her arms and shoulders, “That actually sounds great. The kind of break we need,” he chuckled when she cleared out the sex part, “it all sounds perfect,” he leaned down do peck her lips, “I think you already know I’m not gonna let you pay for all of it, right?” he scrunched up his nose, “how about I pay for the place and you play for everything else… you can pick it so it’s a surprise for me. How does it sound?” he offered, “oh stop that, you did fantastic on Valentine’s… one of my fondest memories,” he grinned.

She leaned up to kiss him before briefly pressing their foreheads together. "I love you," she whispered. Half reluctantly, she pulled away to let him clean her skin. "I think it'd be nice," she said, leaning back against him, "Quiet." She tilted her head up, allowing him to kiss her quickly. Almost mirroring him, Maya scrunched her nose when he told her that he wouldn't let her pay for everything. "I don't have to pay rent anymore, I have money," she replied, pouting. As far as Valentine's Day, she sighed. "I didn't plan anything special. I want to plan something special for you," she said. She rested her hand on his wet chest. A voice in her head whispered that the issue was what she could afford wasn't good enough for him. She tried not to let that voice convince her of anything.

“And I love you,” he assured with a happy sigh, sure that he would never get tired to hear her say those words. “We definitively need some peace and quiet,” he said and then smiled and shook his head when she pouted and pressed on her valid point, “ok, fine, I’ll cave in this time,” he sighed still smiling knowing that it would make her happy to have the chance to do something for him. He arched a brow, “oh really? I remember you had a really nice plan when I got home,” he smirked putting the loofah away and instead use his soaped hands to trace Over her wet curves, “that was more than special,” he assured pulling her in for a deep kiss.

She nodded her agreement. Peace and quiet was certainly in order. They should enjoy it while they had the chance given they didn't know how long it would be until something else in Hollow's Creek blew up. She gave him a grin when he agreed with her. "Thank you, baby," she said, "I'll make sure it's great."

She shivered as his hands replaced the loofah. She smiled, "I mean, I seem to remember suggesting keeping you cock all nice and warm in your office and you had to improvise a little." Her face flushed with arousal as she remembered the events of Valentine's Day. Looping her arms around his neck, she kissed him back. Her body pressed as close as possible to his.

“How can I say no when you smile like that when I say yes?” he asked with a fake annoyance he would never be able to feel when it came to Maya. He was sure whatever her plan for that trip was, it was gonna be something for them both to cherish.

Warren hummed pleased at the way she reacted to his almost innocent touch, “even with the improvisation it all worked out fantastically, didn’t it?” he asked easily picking her up after she kissed him and pressed closer to him, “it was your idea and you certainly made that day one to be remembered,” he before kissing her again.

"You can't," she replied cheekily.

"Yeah, it did," she agreed, nodding. His skin, like the water, was warm against hers. She squeaked a little in surprise when he picked her up. Her arms tightened around his neck, anchoring herself better to him. She smiled against his mouth about to say something else when he kissed her again. Whatever she was going to say was stolen from her lips. When she had to pull away to believe, Maya was smiling. "You're still dirty," she argued halfheartedly.

He huffed pretending to be offended even if there was a pleased gleam in his eyes, “You’re right, I can’t,” he admitted with a dumb smile.

Warren could easily get lost in her like this, just having her close, kissing her, seeing her happy and relaxed around him. Everything was worth it for moments like this with her, “I know…” he sighed against her lips and reluctantly lowered her back to her feet, “wanna help me with that?” he asked with his best puppy eyes.

Maya couldn't help but pout a little as he lowered her back to her feet. It was comfortable being in his arms. And there were much happier endings to showering together than getting clean. There were kittens to check in on though and she was starting to actually feel hungry. Now, she had responsibilities. It was almost funny how much happier she was now that she had responsibilities than when she'd had none. "Yeah," she replied, picking up his body wash. She washed him carefully, massaging his muscles as he went. It was easy, taking care of him in a way she was never able to take care of herself. When she was done, she smiled, "There, all clean."

Warren chuckled at the little pout, she was too adorable, “I’ll make it up to you later tonight,” he promised, closing his eyes and enjoying the soft touch of her hands as she helped him clean up. As much as he wanted to get distracted, he knew they both would probably be worrying about the kittens. Besides, it was already late, and Maya was probably hungry even if she wouldn’t say it. “Thank you, sugar,” he smiled and pulled her closer again for a soft kiss, sighing against her lips and reluctantly turning off the water, getting ready to get out, “is there something in special you’d like to eat?” he asked reaching for one of the robes and helping Maya put it on.

"I'll hold you to that," she replied with a cheeky smile.

She kissed him back. "Any time," she promised. He turned off the water, leaving them dripping onto the tile. Maya let him slip her into a black silk robe. Running her fingers through her hair, she shrugged, "Whatever's fine." She started to braid her hair. "My boss asked if I'd thought about going back to school again," she said. She had mentioned it the first time, framing is as the ridiculous idea she thought it was.

Warren only grinned nodding happily at the prospect of their night.

He put on his own robe and grabbed another towel to dry his hair as he listened. He couldn’t help to smile at the idea, but he wasn’t sure how she’d feel about it since she still sounded unsure, “That sounds like a nice idea. What do you think? Would you like to?” he asked knowing that she could do it and he’d support her. It wasn’t like she needed to work if she decided to go back to school. He hadn’t said anything about her working cause he knew it made her happy to do something she liked and to earn her own money, but he would happily support her if she ever decided to go back and pursue a career of her liking.

Maya laughed. "It’s ridiculous," she replied, "I barely graduated from high school. I'm not smart enough to go to university." She started walking back towards where the kittens were hopefully safe and fed. "It’s the only way to get a promotion," she shrugged, "But, like I said, I'd flunk out of university in the first week and I don't really need a promotion." It'd be nice to have a little more responsibility, but it wasn't possible. She might think more generously of herself now, but that didn't mean she was book smart.

Warren frowned a little and moved to follow her, still drying his hair, “You are plenty smart, Maya,” he assured and then hesitated a little before voicing what he was thinking, “I think maybe school was hard for you back in the day cause you had a lot to worry about,” he said in a neutral tone. He had noticed how having a secure life changed a lot how kids developed in school, and he was sure Maya’s situation had affected how she perceived herself as a student, “I think you’d do well now tho, if you wanted to give it a try,” he smiled a bit cause he knew this was about her feeling self-sufficient and confident with herself. He was aware she didn’t care much about money or a promotion but more about being useful, do things right, do something she enjoyed. “You know that if you wanted to give it a try, I’d support you, right?” he asked to make sure, wondering if maybe he should share that he hadn’t actually gone to school.

"I'm street smart or whatever, sure," she conceded as he hesitated, "But that doesn't help with school." She made a face, clearly not enthused to have to agree with him. She'd had a lot to worry about at the time. She sighed. "I know I'm not stupid. I'd be dead if I was stupid, but that doesn't make college smart," Maya said. She paused, turning to face him properly when he asked if she knew that he would support her. She answered earnestly, "Yeah, yeah, of course." He would support her, whatever she wanted to do. Hell, he'd half started a business for her in the beginning. "I'd just be embarrassing myself though. School was rough and I..." she shook her head, seemingly less confident in her conviction that it was ridiculous, "It's not like any school would let me in."

“You’re smart as a whole, sugar,” he pressed a little because he knew her. He knew that beautiful mind of her and it broke his heart that she doubted herself so much. When she turned around to look at him, he moved closer and took her hand, tangling their fingers together, “it might not count as much and you’re probably gonna say I’m biased, but I believe that you’re more than smart for anything that you want to do. Anything,” he smiled, “I know you could do it. I know you can do anything you put your mind and heart into and if you ever want to try, I’ll be there for you. I’m not school smart. I’ve never been at school myself. I don’t know how that works on my own experience, but I would do anything I could to help if you want to give it a try,” he assured, “and I don’t think you’d have to worry about schools letting you in. You love proving people wrong and I’m sure you’d prove them that they’re stupid if they don’t admit you,” he pulled her a little closer, “Anything you need, I can provide it, Maya, anything and I would do it gladly, but the most important thing here is that you want it. If you want to, forget about the rest and go for it. I’ll be there for you every step and I’ll be proud every moment of it because you choose to do something because you want it,” he said a little more serious, “don’t worry about what the world would think, just focus on what would make you feel happy, and whole and proud of yourself.”

Maya looked up at him as he insisted on her intelligence, expression open and trusting. It was different. He was always different than her past. It wasn't always derision and dismissal. But she was used to the people who cared about offering caution, trying to help her avoid disappointment. They had been looking out for her the best they could. Encouraging her to dream modestly when they knew she was unlikely to accept help. In response, she had made her dreams small. She imagined for herself only the things she knew that she could achieve.

Warren had never dreamt small on her behalf. When he said that he would do anything he could to help her, Maya believed him. It made the thought of accepting his help easier. She let him pull her closer, unable to help the tears the blurred her vision. Everything he had given her was already beyond the wildest dreams she had allowed herself. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him the way she always did when mere words were not enough to express the depth of her love for him. When she pulled away, she rested her forehead against his. Softly she said, "You rescued me too, you know." Arms still around his neck, she lowered herself to standing rather that up on tip toe. "I'll think about it, okay? And actually, think about it, not say I'm going to think about it when I've already made up my mind."

The look on Maya’s face made his expression soften. Some of his words might had hit home and made her remember that all he wanted for her was to be happy ding whatever she wanted to do. He wrapped his arms around her waist and accepted the kiss, sighing against her lips when they pulled apart cause he had learned she tended to kiss him like that when words escaped her. When it was too much, and she didn’t know what to say. He smiled at her words, “I think we rescued each other, sugar,” he said cause Maya probably had no idea the way she had saved him from himself more than once. Warren pecked her lips once more and nodded, “ok, take your time, Maya, there’s no rush at all,” he promised caressing her back, “so kittens and food?” he sighed letting her go reluctantly.

"I don't remember you needing rescuing," she replied softly. She had needed rescuing, more than once. He had always arrived though, like her personal knight. Still, she was content to kiss him again quickly before nodding her agreement. She would think about it. Maybe she would talk to her boss about what exactly that might look like.

Her pink lips curved in a half smile when he sighed as he let her go. "Kittens and food," Maya agreed, "Then you making good on your promise." She resumed her walk towards his office. "Is there anything in particular you want to eat?" she asked.

He chuckled a bit, “Oh but I did… I could’ve lost myself so many times, but you brought me back,” he said simply, “you probably don’t even know the exact times, but you have saved me more than once, sugar,” he explained.

Warren nodded when she agreed and reached for her hands as they made their way to the studio to make sure the kittens were fine. He hummed and squeezed Maya’s hand, “Yes, ma’am,” he grinned knowing that he was definitively keeping his word on making it up to her later. “I don’t know, we haven’t ordered pizza in a while? Pizza and wine sounds good?” he asked as he opened the studio’s door and letting her in first.

It didn't make her happy exactly to hear that she had saved him too. It did make her feel a little less guilty for all the times he'd had to rescue her. She could remember how he was after killing Walden, how she had managed to bring him back then. "We rescued each other then," she agreed

Maya let him take her hand, sliding her fingers through his. She flashed him a sly grin at his quick yes ma'am. "I like pizza and wine," she agreed. Stepping into the office, Maya found the kittens and Hermes as they had left them, safe and sound. She smiled. "I could be talked into a movie too, if you wanted to talk me into one," she added.

“We did,” he agreed glad that she accepted she was good for him as he hoped he was for her.

Warren hummed, “Then pizza and wine will be,” he nodded and relaxed even more when he found the kittens happily snuggled against Hermes, “I think they officially adopted him as the big brother,” he chuckled. He arched a brow, “Ok, sounds good, we’ll have an impromptu date night,” he smirked knowing that they probably wouldn’t even finish watching the movie and he was very ok with that. Life was good with her, and he was decided to make the best of it for as long as he could.

#para: maya #para: We all need someone to hold #mentions of infertility tw #abandonment issues tw #insecurities tw

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sabineelectricheart · 11 months

Text

Secret Relationship Blown

Summary: Chad does not want for people to know he is dating someone, but when a guy makes a move on Barbara, he has other concerns.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 1100

Notes: I think Chad would admire intelligent people. Not stuffy academics or nerds, but that kind of understated cleverness that is shown in polite conversation, that sort of understanding of the world.

It is finally springtime in Sugardale.

The end of the school year swung in with the looming promise of well-deserved vacations and great change to come, as it always did. Some would graduate and leave, some would become the new leaders of the clubs and fraternities, and there would come another batch of pledges. It is hard to escape the whole sentimentality of the season.

According to most of the student body, and a few sections of the faculty, this is the perfect time to throw a party, and the Investments Club is not one to stay behind with such matters. They set up a rave in their large club house, inviting every member and their roommates and girlfriends, and eventually what seemed the entire population of the town showed up. Word spread like wildfire when it came to a blow out of theirs, as it is guaranteed to be the hottest place to be in any given night.

Chad scanned the room for you, not worried about being obvious, as there is little point to hide anything. Bryce was with Trish, and they were wrapped around their usual drama, having April hanging around, senselessly trying to referee the petty dispute, his football teammates and fellow Investment Club associates are scattered around, too busy with either hoping to bag a new conquest or get some old one to put out, and everyone else was too drunk with the better quality of alcohol they were offering for the occasion.

Then his eyes found her, Barbara Hylton, his date for the night, and he realised that they could not leave anymore. She still is the most beautiful, intelligent and awe-inspiring person he had ever seen, even if he keeps it to himself to save face. His jaw still dropped at the sight of her after the best part of seven months, and he does not think it will stop any time soon.

It took every single ounce of energy from every bone in his large body to not walk up to her and shower her with the millions of compliments springing to his mind, some not as wholesome and civil as others. Alas, he could not, and that is mostly on him.

He had suggested that they kept their little dalliance, as she puts it, between them, as not to make a big deal of it, because, as ashamed as he may be for admitting it, he does not want people to know that he is dating anyone, least of all someone like her.

Though, much to his own chagrin, she promptly agreed to his suggestion. She is a scholarship student, after all, and she is in the club which he manages, a club which is very exclusive, catered to legacy members, and with a selective membership process she has not found herself subjected through. It could be assumed that he had something to do with it, and that may lead to circumstances which threaten the continuity of her student support.

Chad was readying himself to keep control and greet Barbara regularly, like a proper vice-president would to one of its female members. He is often reminded of his etiquette whenever he interacts with her, as he gets nervous and acts ceremoniously to avoid suspicion or back-talking.

It was when his eye caught some student that he does not recognize approaching her for a conversation. He decided to wait until they were done talking to go and greet her for the first time that evening.

The drink he was holding almost spilled in his grip when Chad realised that the little bastard was not just talking to his girlfriend, he was touching her, too. Not a friendly shoulder nudge, not a drunken knock, not a brotherly poke. No, the guy was attempting to slip an arm around her shoulder, trying to make her laugh and lean into him.

He cracks his knuckles. Someone is going to be sporting a black eye tomorrow morning.

The burly man focuses his attention on Barbara, to see whether she is welcoming the guy’s advances or rejecting him, to see how much force he is putting in his first punch. He notes, with satisfaction, that she is not responding to the pathetic advance. Instead, she stood stiffly, gripping her drink as tight as he was gripping his.

She gave the drunk guy a restrained smile, eyes searching the room. She swept her gaze across the crowd, desperately trying to locate Chad as she shifted away from her interlocutor. The lipstick, carefully selected and applied to match her outfit, was starting to stretch with the polite expression she forced.

She did not want to upset the man too much. Firstly, because one can never know what men will do in these situations, but also because he has not treated her with any disrespect. There was nothing wrong with him, aside from the ebriety, but she simply is not interested in anyone else.

"Look, I’m sorry, but I, erm, I'm seeing someone at the moment." The woman said, trying to extricate herself out of the situation.

Barbara craned her neck to the right and locked stares with Chad, silently pleading for him to come over.

The drunk man chuckled. "And he left you all alone at this party? That’s very shitty of him. Don't you want to dance with someone?"

She laughed awkwardly, relieved to see her date appear in front of them.

"I didn't leave her alone. Off you go." Chad threatens, baring his teeth.

The guy spluttered, surprised at the sudden appearance of the tall and strong football captain. "Chad! I-I didn’t…! Sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn't…"

Chad smirked, looping his own arm around Barbara as the other man promptly removed his. He does not reply to the stammering, leading her away instead as she leaned into his side.

"Thanks, C. You saved me out there. Where we going now?" She asks, as they go out the door.

"Just out for a breather." He responded, both curt and airily.

As it turned out, the so-called breather was at his bedroom in the frat house and it did not involve breathing so much as fast paced making out.

The hot and savage kissing left her lips tingling and parted with the gloss smeared on the side. With a giggle, she realised there was a shiny pink tinge to her boyfriend’s ones as well.

Chad smiled down at the woman, whom he locks underneath him with his strong arms. "Do you think that we blew our cover?"

Barbara laughed breathlessly. "Yeah, we probably did."

“Good.” He responded hoarsely.

*_*_*_*_*

College Craze Masterlist

#college craze #Chad Vanderheim

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waybeforeyourtime · 1 year

Text

I posted 210 times in 2022

That's 60 more posts than 2021!

91 posts created (43%)

119 posts reblogged (57%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@books-books-smolderinglooks

@royaledvin

@youngroyalsascats

@daylightsimon

@littlebabywille

I tagged 174 of my posts in 2022

Only 17% of my posts had no tags

#young royals - 136 posts

#young royals fandom - 60 posts

#wilmon - 52 posts

#young royals wilhelm - 38 posts

#young royals simon - 34 posts

#edvin ryding - 24 posts

#omar rudberg - 21 posts

#young royals s2 - 16 posts

#prince wilhelm - 14 posts

#young royals fanfic - 13 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#do you all know that many times the people decrying the hate the loudest were actually the anons or sockpuppets spreading the hate too

My Top Posts in 2022:

There are 2 types of people right now in YR fandom.

Those who saw August in the opening and thought, "Aw, poor guy. Yes, what he did was wrong, but he really is sorry. Look at him! No one deserves to suffer like that."

And those who thought, "Good, you bigoted, misogynistic, self-centered piece of shit. You're only sorry because you lost your privilege of being close to the Royal family. If you still had your money and your power, you would step all over people like Simon. Eat your fucking broccoli alone, you loser!"

Me - that 2nd group is me.

Neither are right. Neither are wrong. It’s just different perspectives of a well-written character.

111 notes - Posted September 30, 2022

I saw the first post pitting Heartstopper against Young Royals and immediately blocked.

That sort of attitude is ugly and unproductive. It feels that it comes from jealousy and the drive to win. That sort of influence can ruin fandom for people. Everything doesn't have to be BETTER THAN something else to be good. You can like something without hating something else.

And when you come out with "a is better than b" you come across as attempting to put yourself higher than b's fans, especially when you put it in the tags. But, you're not, so don't do it.

120 notes - Posted April 29, 2022

I don't get everyone who thinks Simon was reduced to a love interest, then complain Micke's storyline wasn't there. So you wanted him to be reduced to being the kid with a shitty father? Oh wait you say but that's part of Simon's troubles, he needs to grow and learn from his issues with his dad. Well, that's what he did - grow and learn to weed out what everyone else wants or what they tell him to do - but with Wille's relationship instead.

I do not get how anyone watched S2 and didn't feel Simon's inner turmoil and struggles! I laughed out loud recently when I saw someone say it was out of character for him. Some of you all need to look at Simon in fandom vs Simon in canon. In S1, most of Simon's decisions came from him trying to please other people. That was a huge part of the story. At the end of the S1, Simon made a decision to walk away from Wille. Then in S2, he realizes that's not so easy - that he can't turn off his feelings and the situation is much more complicated. But he still let other people lead him around, he still let other people tell him what's best for him. And he overcame that. He learned to ignore the noise and look out for his best interests.

And why don't you all think that Wille was reduced to only a love interest for Simon? I mean every single conflict he had this season was because of his relationship with Simon. He literally called the Queen to freak out that Simon was on a date.

This is a love story - that's been established quite clearly. So yes the leads - both of them - are going to be "love interests" and their story surrounding that.

159 notes - Posted November 18, 2022

169 notes - Posted October 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Simon: I really don't think I'm ready for a relationship. I'm very obviously not over my ex yet.

Marcus 🚩: cool cool. we'll be chill about this. no pressure. I'll just keep texting you constantly to hang out until you feel bad for me and say 'yes''.

Simon: okay but really I'm not ready for this. You're nice and I think we should -

Marcus 🚩: hey, no I totally get that. I'm so chill here. But let me bring up all your traumas to show you how broken you are: the video (which I didn’t watch 😉😉😉👀), your addict toxic father, how hurt your mother was. I hope that helps you see that you're the problem here, not me. I'm perfect and I love you, and we have the most beautiful relationship ever. Trust me and do what I say. I know what you need better than you do. Because remember I reminded you that you’re broken.

Simon: Okay, dude, like seriously, I'm done. I tried, and you're nice and all, but I don't want to be in a relationship with you.

Marcus 🚩: WHERE DID THIS COME FROM?! HOW DARE YOU NOT BE OVER HAVING YOUR MOST INTIMATE MOMENT SHARED WITH THE WHOLE WORLD. IT'S YOU, NOT ME. I'M THE PERFECT ONE HERE AND YOU WILL REGRET THIS.

223 notes - Posted November 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review

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suchagallabitch · 2 years

Note

Hey Elle welcome back! 5 please💖

for #5: song- Cold as you

note: I am indeed back ;) that said, I’m not the biggest fan of this piece, I haven’t written constantly since April and I feel like I’m struggling to get back into my writing style but fuck it, I wrote it and that’s the first step I guess.

you never did give a damn thing, honey, but i cried, cried for you

Ian grieves for Monica, Mickey doesn't feel like he can do enough to comfort his husband, but still, he tries.

Mickey didn’t expect all the lights to be off when he walked into the apartment.

He had left not even an hour ago to aid his brother-in-law. Liam had desperately pleaded to the Gallagher family group chat for someone to pick him up from the library. It was way too cold for him to walk the several blocks home without catching a case of hypothermia. His attempt was fruitless, just to get every variation of ‘can’t’ from his siblings. Mickey rolled his eyes, texting him a quick ‘send me the address I’m coming’ before shuffling from his seat and into a coat.

Ian thought the gesture was sweet, Mickey just shrugged it off. “I don’t want your kid brother dying ‘cuz your siblings are a bunch of assholes”.

Despite the brush-off, Ian promised Mickey dinner when he returned. Along with something ‘special ’ for his efforts. After watching Liam drudge into the Gallagher home, lugging the backpack weighing almost as much as he did, Mickey sped home.

As Mickey pushed open the door he expected to see his husband waiting for him with a smile and a plate -probably pasta as that seemed to be the only thing they knew how to cook those days-, some dumbass d-list action movie playing in the background but there was nothing. He looked around for any sign of life, coming up empty.

It wasn’t like Ian to just get up and leave. They always wrote notes for one another if they were going out. A text, bare minimum. Their communication might not have been the greatest but it was enough to at least not have the other worrying.

[read the rest on a03!]

#simply screaming into the void #ian and mickey #gallavich #gallavich fanfic #shameless us #gallavich oneshot #ian x mickey #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #mickey and ian #mickey x ian #elle writes #hurt/comfort

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rubyuji · 4 days

Text

The Chase (Jeon Wonwoo) ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

“I won’t get tired of the chase when it comes to you because I know that once I win your heart, I will give you more than the world has to offer” ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

Genre: Angst (Not much), Fluff, Romance

AU: Chaebol!au

Pairing(s): CEO!Wonwoo x Afab Fashion Designer!Reader

Warnings: None except the shitty ex-boyfriend

Synopsis: After going through the most traumatizing relationship ever with your ex, you vowed never to open your heart to just anyone and simply accepted the fact that maybe you truly were just unlucky in love. That was until Jeon Wonwoo made it his life’s mission to prove to you that you weren’t unlucky, you just ended up with the wrong people.

Note: I don’t know why this took me so long finish, I started writing it during new year’s and still ended up finishing it in April ;; This is based off a true story (The shitty ex) and I wrote it to make myself feel better. Remember, never settle for less because you’re always deserving of more. Happy reading! And as always, don’t forget to like + reblog.

WC: 10.4k (and it took me 4 months)

Sighing for the umpteenth time that day, you had finally had enough. It had been a week since your ‘boyfriend’ decided just to get up and ghost you, and now here he was when you finally thought he’d completely leave your life? Not only that but breaking up with you over text for that matter.

He couldn’t even call you to tell you shit, and he came back just to end things between you both.

“He’s so full of shit like I’m gonna take his fucking excuse of being busy like I always do. I’m tired of waiting for this guy, all talk that’s what he is. He wanted me first and now he’s the one initiating the breakup? The audacity he has to do all this when I put in all the work to make this relationship work.” You run a hand through your hair in exasperation as your friend Jennie eyes you worriedly.

“I told you, you deserve better Y/n. Never trust a guy who has to make up for his face with his ‘personality’, What’s the point? You gave him a chance because you pitied him. This guy should be embarrassed for even breaking up with someone in your league, you can do way better,” Rosé says.

Your ex wasn’t the most favorable person among your girlfriends, or your circle of friends in general, but love truly is blind.

You land on the couch beside Jennie, the movie on the big screen in your theater long forgotten as it was paused momentarily because your ex had decided to return at the worst possible time.

“He’s an ass, end of story. He never deserved you to begin with and I could see it coming ever since we met him, what guy uses him being busy as an excuse? If you truly loved your girlfriend, you’d spend every waking minute with her and spoil her with attention. You don’t even ask for much!” Jisoo shouts.

Lisa slaps your friend’s leg in an attempt to calm her down as you all laugh.

The girls knew that you were well aware of your worth, but this guy was persistent so you gave him a chance, but he ended up hurting you either way.

It was such nonsense for him to break up with you when you were nothing but good to him, hell, you were the whole package and he still couldn’t see where he wasted such an opportunity.

“Y/n, he never deserved you at all. You’re the full package when it comes to a partner. Like, you don’t even ask for that much assurance and give him all his freedom, and not only that, you’re so patient and understanding. You have your way with words, as well as a personality as pretty as your face for fucks sake. He wasted such a creative and unique person, he’ll get his karma soon enough,” Jennie says softly from beside you.

You were fully aware of the treatment you give your friends and can vouch for how much of a good person you are, but this guy broke up with you because one of your friends had decided to call him out on his shit treatment towards you? If he had worries about that he could’ve talked to you about it.

“Your ex is full of shit just saying, so how about we forget about it and get ready to go to Mingyu’s housewarming party tonight? I’m sure there will be guys flocking toward you from every direction, so stop crying over a guy who never deserved you.” Lisa dragged you and the girls into your walk-in to get ready.

Who did your ex think he was, anyway? He was probably some shitty lesson for you to vow to be more picky now with whom you let into your heart.

Since you were the one who was heartbroken in the midst of all this, your friends had taken extra time to help you look your best.

Jennie had grabbed a long black strapless dress that had a slit that ran until your mid-thigh, and Rosé helped with your makeup, opting for a subtle smokey eye and a deep red lip.

You decided to let the girls get ready and offered to do your hair with Jisoo in the bathroom, the two of you breaking into a friendly chat.

“I will never understand what you saw in that guy Y/n, you have so many guys chasing after you and yet you decided to give Junseo a chance. He wasn’t exactly the best-looking and even had a shitty personality. He only seemed good at first when he was pursuing you but he got shittier, anyone could see that only you were putting the effort in for the relationship to work,” Jisoo sighed.

You finished curling your hair and laughed at your friend’s words. Even you, yourself, couldn’t understand why you gave him that chance when he treated you like absolute garbage, he kept leaving you and coming back at his convenience, using the excuse of being busy as always.

He started becoming inconsistent, he couldn’t even give you the bare minimum and broke up with you just because he couldn’t handle communicating with you.

Because he couldn’t admit his mistakes? It wasn’t worth it in your opinion, and you had already detached like it was nothing. The relationship itself was comical.

“Well, he doesn’t count as a boyfriend to be completely honest. I don’t see him as one, like even as a person he isn’t all that, he is a good friend to everyone else but this guy isn’t all that in reality no matter how hard you look. He talks about me as if I’m just a random girl to his friends, Mingyu can vouch for me on that because he overheard him at the bar. Honestly never again,” you grimace at the memory.

Mingyu had called you up at two in the morning, and you wondered why on earth he’d be calling you at that hour.

Sure, your best friend was a bit of a party animal, so you weren’t exactly a stranger to a few drunk speed dials from him, but Mingyu sounded quite frustrated over the phone.

“Your asshole of a boyfriend, if you can even call him that, is at the bar we’re at right now. This dude talked about you as if you were some random chick. Honestly, if Hao hadn’t held me back, I would’ve punched the shithead square in the fucking face. Y/n, you should break up with him, you don’t deserve this disrespect at all.” You could hear Dokyeom telling Mingyu to let it go because they’d just go and find another bar.

Frankly, your boyfriend was pissing them off at that exact moment because they had all overheard his conversation from the table beside theirs.

“Gyu, I can’t believe he left after an argument we had, and this is what I come back to? You know what, never mind, I’ll deal with it myself. Don’t worry ok? You guys enjoy your night, I’ll talk to him as soon as possible” You reply quietly.

Mingyu starts to worry and asks if you need him to come over, but you assure him that you’ll be fine and that you’ll call Jeonghan to come over instead.

“I’m sure Jeonghan hyung will understand, so you rest up there. I’m sorry he’s a shitty person Y/n, you need someone who will take care of you just as well as we do, someone who’s just as good as you even. I’ll come over tomorrow to check up on you, ok? I’ll try not to drink as much knowing you’ll be worried about me driving with a hangover,” Mingyu tells you.

You tell him to take care and enjoy his night once again, and not to worry about you before you hang up. You debated texting Jeonghan, who was probably on his way to your penthouse already, so you decided to leave it to Mingyu.

You needed more time to do something about the current situation. It was all so confusing and you didn’t know how to feel, but thankfully you had friends who were practically angels on this godforsaken planet.

What you couldn’t fathom was that you gave this guy all the freedom he needed, hell, you stretched your patience and your ability to understand to its limit because of him, and yet he throws your name around as if you’re just some random girl he decided to hook up with? You don’t deserve that kind of disrespect, especially when you were a woman of class, and the person supporting him and his family without asking for anything in return.

When Jeonghan arrived at your place, you were ready to bawl and cry over how rocky your relationship had been since the beginning. The man had entered your home with a tub of ice cream and a bottle of your favorite aged wine that he always kept for you in case of emergencies.

Mingyu had described your dilemma enough for you, saving Jeonghan the explanation and the confusion as to why you needed him in the dead of night, but you knew well enough that if they also needed you, you’d be there in a heartbeat.

Jeonghan had sat you down in your living room, the lights in the penthouse out completely as you both bask in the darkness and the dim city lights that seep through the window. He takes a sip from his glass and eyes you with worry, before pulling you closer to his side.

“Your boyfriend is an asshole and you deserve better, and I know you’re tired of people telling you that, but this guy has completely proved time and time again that he is undeserving of your love. I know it will be easier said than done but you need to break up with this guy, he’s been hurting you Y/n and he’s acting like it’s completely ok just because you make excuses for him? God, I hate seeing you in this position as one of your best friends” Jeonghan mutters from beside you.

You take a sip of your wine and nod. This guy wasn’t the most well-liked individual in your circle, and you were starting to see the reality of things.

He’s been neglecting your needs and you as a whole, only using his having a girlfriend as something to brag about. Not only that, but he also had the privilege to date you, and he’s suddenly acting as if you’re some lowly girl chasing after his tail.

A highly respected chaebol and someone whose family and community as a whole consist of only the most elite, Yoon Jeonghan, son of Yoon Holdings. and Kim Mingyu, son of Kim Legal Group are some important names to note.

Your inner circle was full of powerful people, and they would hire a hitman on your behalf if you weren’t so patient, so this guy should be afraid to hurt you.

“Look, he doesn’t know the full extent of how much he hurt you and he’s acting like everything is ok just because you’re understanding and kind. He lost a very special and unique individual, hell, he lost the heir to one of the biggest fashion companies in the world. You shouldn’t have settled for someone who’s not even close to your league, like, you have models pining after you for fucks sake Y/n. I have a whole line of friends ready to treat you right,” your friend laughs.

“He’s not the most ideal guy, and I get it now. I guess I only liked how he treated me and made me feel special in a way, especially when he’s known me for so long, but you’re right Han. I need to gather the courage to break up with him because I can’t wallow in self-pity any longer, I own one of the biggest fashion companies in the world and I let this guy deter me from my goals. I need to start focusing on myself now,” you say with newfound confidence before laying your head on Jeonghan’s shoulder.

You were worth so much more, and you deserved to be valued as much as your friends valued you.

A week of healing and detachment led you to your current position now, a freshly single woman who was ready to start focusing on herself and herself only.

If a man wanted a place in your life, he was going to have to earn it and he should prove himself worthy of your attention. You are no longer going to settle when your ex practically gave you less than the bare minimum.

“You know what, you have the right to find someone else who’s in your league. I know you’re not in the mind to be in a relationship right now, but I hope at least one of the guys you meet tonight will try to pursue you with genuine intentions. You deserve someone willing to show you how much you mean to them, someone who’s not afraid to show and express their love for you.” Jisoo fixes your hair and you nod in agreement.

You were in no rush to find something new after being in such a draining position, but you also wouldn’t mind entertaining more notable suitors that had actual potential in your future because your boyfriend had always been in a questionable position, to begin with.

You didn’t mean to judge him, but you were a notable figure and he was quite unsure of his career path, which isn’t a bad thing, but your ex was careless and didn’t seem to care which way he was heading.

On your end, you had started to learn the ropes of fashion at a young age, and now you were ready to take over your family legacy. You should at least give him something as a reminder of the kind of woman he lost.

“Are you guys ready? Because it’s our turn to do our hair,” Jennie peeks into the bathroom. You and Jisoo chuckle in unison and nod as you head to your shoes and bags closet.

Jisoo picks a small all-black YSL clutch and a pair of classic black Louboutin heels before handing the items in your direction. You take the shoes and give your friend a knowing look as she winks at you.

“I think a pair of Vivienne Westwood earrings would look gorgeous with the outfit, pair that with the matching necklace and you’re all set. God Y/n, you’re such a stunner and your ex wanted to break up? That’s his biggest loss ever,” your friend helps you put the necklace on as you finish up your earrings.

You were much more excited about Mingyu’s housewarming party, especially because it was at the house that you had helped him pick while he was house hunting.

Being a fashion designer and someone who works in such a creative industry, your friends always ask for your input knowing you have an eye for things that they would like.

It was a no-brainer decision for one of your best friends to take you house hunting with him because whatever you liked, Mingyu also had a knack for. Your ex didn’t count though, but when it came to everything else, your best friend was your other half.

“I’m just excited to see Mingyu and everyone else, it’s been way too long since we all had a proper hangout. Everyone’s been so busy ever since we started uni, and some of the others graduating ahead even, so thank God for him moving homes, because we probably wouldn’t have any other chance to reunite” you laugh softly.

The girls had already finished dolling themselves up and you all headed to the parking garage. You had a hard time picking between which cars to choose from, but you decided on your black Ferrari convertible as a reward for yourself.

Slipping into the driver’s seat, you motioned for them to get in, Jennie immediately calling shotgun and causing the other three to groan in unison.

Driving to Mingyu’s place was a breeze because he lived right in Hannam-Dong, your favorite area, and one of the reasons why you convinced your best friend to get his current home.

There was no way Mingyu was gonna say no to you anyway, you both always just looked out for each other like that because he was like a brother to you and you were like a sister to him.

You even contributed to at least half of Mingyu’s choices when he was choosing and decorating his current living space. Yes, your friend had taken you to every furniture shopping trip and had even called you over during renovations he was making.

Pulling into the gate, security stops you and asks who you’re there for and what house number. “House nine, Kim Mingyu,” you smile softly. The guard lets you in and tells you and the girls to have a good night as you drive toward Mingyu’s place.

“You’re already so familiar with the area, Mingyu did bring you around the whole time so it makes sense. God, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you two were dating,” Lisa joked.

You roll your eyes and let out a snort. Never in a million years would you ever think of dating Mingyu, he was your best friend and that’s all you two ever will be.

Besides, you found his other friends more appealing, but you were also too shy to approach them knowing Mingyu would never let you live it down. It was just the dynamic you both settled on because you both had gone through more than enough together.

“I would never date Mingyu, we’re too close to date and we grew up together. If you were to ask me, I’d have my bets on any of his other friends,” you parked in Mingyu’s designated parking spot that he had put especially for you (he had insisted since you would be coming over quite often anyway).

“Should’ve gone for them instead of your ex then,” Lisa laughed and you all got out of the car, ready to head inside.

Jisoo’s mouth had dropped as she stared in awe at Mingyu’s estate. “Mingyu chose the right person for advice, Y/n this place is beautiful. You do have an eye for amazing things,” your friend says. You shook your head and thanked her with a bashful smile.

The estate was beautiful, it was modern with wide windows and a black and white exterior. The gate was wide open and you could see people inside the house mingling as you all made your way in.

You then see the homeowner himself at the door, seemingly waiting for your arrival. Mingyu had a goofy smile on his face as Jungkook waved at you from beside him, he was practically Mingyu’s twin because he was around Mingyu just as much as you were.

“You’re finally here, he wouldn’t stop whining about you and honestly thank God. Mingyu finally shut up and insisted we come down to greet you once he saw your car pull up into the driveway,” Jungkook hugs you as he says that and you turn to Mingyu himself who looks just as happy to see you.

“He’s joking, now you guys come in. You’re looking quite better Y/n, did something happen?” Mingyu quips. You shrug your shoulders and casually mention that your ex had broken up with you through text after ghosting you for a week.

Jungkook turns to you as if you had dropped a bomb on them and Mingyu’s jaw falls slack at your revelation. You laughed awkwardly and tried to slip away after seeing Jeonghan out of the corner of your eye, but you were immediately stopped by the two of them.

“OK first, I’m proud of you that you finally broke up with his ass, he’s honestly one of the worst creatures to ever walk this earth, but second, how are you coping? You came all the way here, I’m worried about you. Aren’t you supposed to be crying and sobbing?” Mingyu mutters.

He was genuinely so concerned at how you were able to get to his party as if nothing was completely wrong.

“Not worth crying and moping over, and besides, I’m completely ok, I promise. Still open to love and finding someone eventually though,” You held Mingyu’s hand and squeezed it as a sign of assurance, but your tall friend still looked concerned.

“Gyu, don’t worry. I had the girls with me and I have you guys, you still have guests to entertain, now go. I’ll let you know if I need anything, I promise” You ushered him to the entrance of his house as he threw you one last worried glance, before tending to his other guests that had arrived.

As you and the girls head towards the living room, where most of the guests mingled, you are completely unaware of the man who had been eyeing you ever since you had stepped foot into the home.

He stares at you full of wonder, in awe at how you glowed around your friends. Was it the lighting or were you just an angel in disguise?

“Hey Won, if you’re that into her, you should just go talk to her you know? Take the opportunity while it lasts, seeing as almost every guy here has their eye on her” Soonyoung, more known as Hoshi by his friends, chuckled from beside him, as he nudged his shoulder.

“Yeah no, I’ll stick to just admiring Y/n from afar. She has a boyfriend after all” Wonwoo says, but his face forms into a soft smile after seeing you interact with Dokyeom from across the room.

He wasn’t looking for anyone to be with before he met you, truthfully speaking, given how busy he is now that he runs his family’s business but you were just naturally radiant, it was hard not to notice your beauty and overwhelming presence whenever you were around. Wonwoo did want to approach you, but he didn’t know how when so many people would be around you at once.

The two of you had met on several different occasions, but you were always around Mingyu when it came to these things.

Wonwoo only really knew you as Mingyu’s childhood best friend, but seeing how you both interacted and based on how the media portrayed you, you seemed like quite the catch and Wonwoo couldn’t deny the small crush he had started to develop towards you, but you also had a boyfriend.

“You’re going to regret that you know, he just broke up with her today so you’re free to pursue her as you like. Just take your time with her, because I know she’ll open her heart eventually…” Mingyu appeared behind them and Wonwoo raised an eyebrow at him. Your boyfriend? How could he ever break up with someone like you?

“He had a shitty ass reason from what Jennie told me, basically he broke up with her because he said he was too busy or something. I think we’re all aware that this guy is just full of shit, after all, Y/n was the serious one and she put her utmost effort into the relationship, it’s unfair on her when there are way better people out there. People like you,” Mingyu continued while nudging Wonwoo’s shoulder.

“Yikes? Won, you should pursue her and treat her the way she deserves. Take your time with Y/n, we all know she’ll open up either way when you show her that she’s truly deserving of only the best.” Jihoon grins widely.

Wonwoo was starting to deliberate within himself, he had a huge opportunity right in front of him to pursue you, and either way, it was a way to get to know you better and to see if you would give him the chance.

Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t the type to chase someone but for you? You had him wrapped around your pretty little fingers and he wouldn’t mind following you through the ends of the earth if he had to. If you gave him a chance, he’d prove to you that you only deserve to be treated with only the best and nothing less.

“Y/n was such a trooper for settling for the barest of the minimum, she’s the biggest green flag through and through, and this guy chose to abuse it. I think you’re the person for her Won, you’re willing to go after her, aren’t you? Now go and ask her out, Dokyeom’s telling her to walk over.” Mingyu looked like a madman because his smile was so wide, but he didn’t want to miss the opportunity to set the two of his closest friends up with each other.

You both deserved only the best, and Mingyu must admit that you were a perfect match. He’d always wanted Wonwoo for you, but your ex had to ruin it all by stealing you away.

Wonwoo turned to the side and sure enough, you were making your way toward Mingyu and the others. Wonwoo’s breath was caught in his throat as he saw you coming closer. God, you looked so beautiful, it was hard not to stare.

Once you were in front of them, you greeted them kindly, your tone soft and sweet, but still with a hint of elegance. The guys only shared knowing glances and they urged Wonwoo to talk to you teasingly.

“Y/n, is it ok if we have a moment alone? I need to ask you something and I’d feel like it would be too much pressure to put you on the spot in front of everyone,” You looked at Wonwoo and nodded, surprised at his demeanor.

You were so used to the serious side of the man that seeing him all shy and flustered only made you smile at him.

Wonwoo led you to the second floor, and you immediately knew where he was taking you. You know Mingyu’s house like the back of your hand, so it was no surprise when Wonwoo opened up the garden on the second floor.

It was perfectly private since the second floor was off-limits for other guests, and everyone was led straight to the rooftop or was on the ground floor.

“Now that we have a bit more privacy, I heard from Mingyu and his big mouth that your ex had broken up with you. How are you coping?” Wonwoo motioned for you to sit next to him on the bench.

You took a seat next to him and let out a soft chuckle, this was the first time you were ever alone with Wonwoo, outside of a formal setting and without the company of others.

“Doing fine, I mean, I detached from the whole situation emotionally so it’s nothing. Left me quite drained, but I won’t let a hiccup like this stop me from finding someone else, I’m just not in the state to be in another relationship right now…” You reply and stare at the city from below.

The view was gorgeous, but you couldn’t deny that the man next to you was just as good-looking.

“I know you’re not in the state to commit to something else as you’re healing right now, but I’d like to ask you if you’re willing to let me court you. I don’t want to pressure you, and it’s completely up to you, but I wanted to open up the possibility because I’ve been admiring you for a while Y/n. I only want to show you that you deserve only the best,” Wonwoo proposes.

Your mouth is slightly agape at his proposal, you are just in complete shock at how someone like Wonwoo had openly confessed that he’d be willing to pursue you because he admired you.

It was a bold move and it was a risk knowing you’d just been broken up with, but he was willing to take it either way.

“Courting huh? You surprise me Jeon Wonwoo. I’ll accept your proposal, but I have to let you know that it won’t be as easy because of the trauma from my last relationship,” you look down and fidget with your hands.

You were okay with being pursued and courted, but you’re still shaken up from the events of your last relationship, so you’re taking it easy.

“I won’t get tired of the chase when it comes to you because I know that once I win your heart, I will give you more than the world has to offer,” Wonwoo chuckles before wrapping his jacket around you.

He was truly a gentleman, and what did you have to lose? The man was trusted by your friends and most especially Mingyu, your friend who was like a brother to you.

“I admire your courage and patience, but going after me won’t be so easy now…” You chuckle lightly.

You thought Wonwoo would laugh along but the man truly was serious about you, which was a surprise. People these days were only up for casual dating, but you were someone who preferred something long-term and serious, especially when work and business took up most of your life.

“Believe me, I know how you feel because I’m equally as busy, but I’m willing to work around that. You’re an amazing woman, seeing how secure you are in yourself only makes you all the more attractive. I want someone who shares my work ethic and dreams. Seeing your character, and hearing all the good things about you. I can truly say you are everything I could ever ask for,” Wonwoo continued.

You never got flustered or embarrassed, but hearing someone acknowledge your hard work, especially from a person like Wonwoo, you couldn’t help but blush at his confession.

The media has always highlighted your endless milestones, but no one ever brought up the grueling hours you’ve spent working towards a goal. Wonwoo truly was one of a kind, which only made you want to give him a chance even more.

The two of you hear a glass door slide and hear a familiar voice let out a hearty laugh. “There you two are, come down because I’m going to say a few words before the house gets trashed,” Mingyu stood by the door and smiled at the two of you.

Since that night, Jeon Wonwoo proved that he was serious about his word, because the morning after Mingyu’s party, you had received a bouquet arrangement of baby’s breaths and camellias, along with a note.

It read, ‘Just because. Have a good day, I’ll visit your place later since your secretary told me you had a full schedule today. See you later beautiful :)’.

“Is that from Wonwoo? Look at him already treating you better than your shitty ex-boyfriend,” Jennie laughs after walking into the kitchen.

You chuckle and place the flowers in a vase that you filled with water. It was unique, usually, people would send roses since it was romantic, but this was sweet of Wonwoo because he isn’t like everyone else.

“By the way, baby’s breath flowers mean ‘everlasting love’, and camellias mean ‘you’re a flame in my heart’. This man is already gaining my approval because he knows the flower language and put in the effort to arrange that, and have it delivered, between his busy schedule. I can’t wait to see what else he has in mind,” you hand Jennie a mug of coffee you were making and roll your eyes playfully.

It was cheesy, but you had to admit that it was also admirable. This was your first time receiving flowers from someone from a romantic perspective.

You had received flowers from Mingyu, Seungcheol, and even Jihoon, in the past, but they were all friendly gestures or formalities at one of Mingyu’s events. This time, it felt different as you feel a sense of giddiness bloom in your chest.

“He’s coming over tonight, I wonder what else he has planned,” you wonder aloud. Just as you said that sentence, the other girls had walked into the kitchen, and Jisoo immediately asked who you were referring to.

“Wonwoo sent her flowers and said he’d come over to see her, crazy right? This guy just started courting Y/n and is already proving himself worthy,” Jennie replies.

Rosé raises a brow and Lisa’s brows knit. This was a first from any of the guys you’ve ever been with, and Wonwoo hadn’t even taken you out on a proper date yet, but it was a lot coming from someone who was now taking over one of the biggest companies in the country. The man was bound to be busy almost every minute of his entire life right now.

It was a no-brainer that Wonwoo had a lot of responsibilities but given his dating history, or lack thereof, this was a whole new thing for him.

A man who is serious about what he wants is one of the hottest things ever to you, so he was gaining your favor faster than you thought.

“Stop being a bare minimum enjoyer, I can’t wait to see what he’s going to bring to the table for you though. I need this guy to treat you the way you deserve to be treated because you settled for shit men and that isn’t who you are, you need someone serious and emotionally intelligent,” Rosé huffs.

Your friends continue to talk amongst themselves as you get started on your breakfast, your mind still on Wonwoo.

You never paid much mind to Mingyu’s friends, but you slowly warmed up to the twelve men, getting particularly close to Jeonghan, Jihoon, and Seungcheol, specifically, but Wonwoo? You could barely remember your last exchange with the man except for the one from the night before.

They all had their charm and you wouldn’t mind hanging out with any of them at all, but Wonwoo was one of the busier members of the group so you never got the chance to see him as much due to schedules clashing.

You couldn’t lie though, you thought the man was attractive for being so hardworking but still finding the time to go to every dinner or event he was invited to, especially when it came to their friend group in particular.

You had missed a few here and there because you were either too burned out from working, or had too much on your schedule that day, but you always managed to hear that Wonwoo had made it.

“Hey Y/n, we’ll be leaving in an hour or two so you can mentally prepare yourself for your night with Wonwoo. No weird shit ok? I know he’s hot and all but have some self-control and save it for when you’re officially together,” Jennie jokes from behind you as she gives you a back hug.

You let out a giggle and nod softly, immediately catching your friend’s drift.

“Yeah don’t worry, I promise I have it all under control ok Jen? Now let me finish cooking our food so I can at least send you guys off with a thank you for being the best,” you say softly.

The girls smile at you, their expressions teasing in a way. You could only roll your eyes at them. For the first time, your friends supported a guy. It was new and completely unexpected, especially when your close-knit group of friends consisted of maneaters.

After breakfast, your friends had finally left you alone in your penthouse with nothing to do until Wonwoo came over that evening, so you decided to tend to some important emails and other matters.

Hence, you no longer had anything else to think about. You couldn’t help but think though, how could someone like Wonwoo ask you out? Let alone court you. Jeon Wonwoo was someone you least expected to have the time for something like courtship.

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that you both were some of the busiest people in the industry, especially with your family brand making a name overseas and his company taking the whole country by storm.

You both always had packed schedules, but Wonwoo was willing to fit you into his somehow, which you admired. Your friends always say that a man is never too busy for someone he truly loves.

“He’s already so sweet, I’m already getting sick just thinking about him,” you say to yourself.

You couldn’t help but feel all giddy, even after the traumatic experience with your ex, you felt happy to give someone a chance because they promised to make up for what you had gone through.

Despite your giddy feelings, the emotional trauma had started to creep up on you. Jumping into something new almost immediately wasn’t the wisest idea on your part, but Wonwoo was one of Mingyu’s closest friends as well, so Mingyu wouldn’t push the idea if it wasn’t good for you.

“I shouldn’t put too much effort into how I look tonight, after all, we are just having dinner here, but I wonder what he’s got planned,” you get up from the couch and make your way into your room. Even if you were just going to meet at your own home, you still had to look presentable at least.

Walking into your closet, you decide to pull out another one of your favorite black dresses. It wasn’t too out there, but it was pretty enough to wear for dinner at home. The dress ended at the knees and had puffy sleeves, with the waist having a corset-like design.

This dress was your pride and joy because you had designed this when you were still in your first year of high school, with only one piece existing in the entire world.

“You know what, maybe I should call Mingyu. He could calm my nerves and tell me what Wonwoo is like…” you sigh softly.

Whenever you did feel your nerves catching up to you, you always turned to call your puppy of a best friend to help you get over your thoughts, and since the guy was also one of his closest friends, Mingyu could help alleviate any worries you have.

You opted to call him because he would probably take forever to lecture you either way. You grab your phone and dial Mingyu’s number, the man probably had nothing better to do right now because his family was going to be over that night as well and he talked to you yesterday about wanting to cook for them in his new home.

“Hey, you’re calling me. Don’t tell me you’re nervous about your date with Wonwoo tonight?” You can hear the smirk in Mingyu’s tone.

If he was here, you’d already land him a smack on his shoulder and a good eye roll, but you were in your penthouse across the city.

“I’m not stupid, I just need to hear more about what he’s like. Besides, I also maybe do want to get intel on his side because you’re his other best friend you know,” you chuckle playfully. Mingyu wasn’t a snitch obviously, but he could at least tell you what he gathered from the guy.

“Yeah I know, look, Wonwoo’s just as nervous as you are. It’s his first time being with a woman who wasn’t exactly chosen by his parents if you catch my drift. Just relax, he’s harmless and is pretty good at conversations, he’s not that awkward once he opens up a bit,” you hear shuffling on Mingyu’s end.

“Are you seriously preparing meals right now?” You laugh. You hear Mingyu laugh as he switches over to Facetime before he sets his phone somewhere on the counter.

“You already know, it’s their first time here so I want to make it special and meaningful,” Mingyu smiles.

Your best friend was the biggest green flag you have ever met. Ever since you were kids, you could already tell that his parents had raised him to be the gentleman he is today, and if you weren’t best friends, you would be dating him at this point. But you were already beyond that point because he just really felt like the brother you never had.

“Anyways, as I’m preparing meals, I’m also here to yap about how Wonwoo also knows how to treat someone right. I wouldn’t want anyone else for either of you, so this is all part of my plan,” Mingyu starts gathering plates as you set your phone on the vanity.

“You think you’re some kind of mastermind aren’t you?” You giggle. You would never doubt Mingyu, and if he was desperate enough to get you and Wonwoo together, it just means he’s giving you the treatment you truly deserve.

“You only deserve the best, besides, you’re a woman of class Y/n, don’t get it twisted now. Let me remind you that your family owns one of the biggest fashion companies in all of Korea right now, and your circle only consists of some of the most powerful people in the country.” Mingyu points out.

You hum at his words, had you forgotten who you were because of a guy who was never truly worth your time?

“Thanks for the reminder as always Gyu. I think we could call up Cheol to do a background check on him, and we can get Soonyoung to hire a hitman if possible. I’ll also make sure to call you if I need to sue someone,” you close the lid of your eyeliner and hear Mingyu huff as he holds back another laugh.

The guys were overprotective of you, and you couldn’t blame them for their dislike towards your ex, it was justified now that you truly think about it.

Your ex couldn’t even walk into a gathering with your friends without Dino and Seungkwan giving him side eyes and the dirtiest looks known to man.

“Anyways, Wonwoo doesn’t exactly know how to cook, so he asked me to make your favorite. I made your pasta the way you liked it, just so you know,” Mingyu picks up his phone again and you shake your head as he shows you the various food laid out on the counter.

“I wish I was there, tell Auntie and Uncle that I said hi, and tell your sister that I miss her,” Mingyu pouts. “What about me?” You hold back a smile, ever so clingy.

“We saw each other yesterday, you’ll live. I practically see you almost every day you goof,” you reply.

“Kay whatever, anyways, I’m guessing Wonwoo is on his way so I’ll leave you to it. You look great, don’t give him a heart attack,” you laugh as Mingyu hangs up the call. Your best friend always knew what to say, and you were always grateful to him in every way possible.

You spray on a bit of your favorite perfume and head out into the living room, seeing that the sun is already setting and casting a soft glow into the room.

You smile to yourself, you loved the view from your penthouse, but your sorry excuse of an ex was also a reminder that you chose the place while thinking of him and the life you could’ve had together.

“Stop thinking about him, he’s not worth your fucking time anymore. You have to focus on yourself now, and you’re gonna make it right,” you mutter to yourself softly.

After thirty minutes of pacing around your living room, you hear the buzzer of your doorbell and flinch at the sound. ‘Wonwoo’s here,’ you think, as you make your way to the door to greet your guest, or date, for that matter.

You see Wonwoo through the camera and immediately let out a breath, accompanied by a smile, upon seeing his appearance, as you unlock the door to your home. He looked a bit tired when you went to get him at the door but in a split second, he looked like he was hit with adrenaline upon seeing you.

“Hey, gorgeous, sorry if our first date isn’t exactly the most ideal right now. I’ll take you out somewhere better next time,” Wonwoo says softly before throwing you a smile.

God, he was so damn charming and this was only the first date? And he promised to do even better for the next date?

Wonwoo was already exceeding your expectations by planning another date, making it to your house on time for dinner, and even going out of his way to ask Mingyu to cook your favorite food.

You felt like you could finally depend on someone and moments like that aren’t exactly something you had the luxury of enjoying.

“I’m fine with whatever really, but if you insist, I’ll have to take you up on it,” you say and lead Wonwoo over to the kitchen.

You notice how he takes in the interior carefully, studying every detail of your place of residence. You smile at his action, his observant behavior is endearing to you.

“Your penthouse is beautiful by the way,” You turn to Wonwoo as he places the food on the island in the kitchen. “Thank you, I kind of want to make a few renovations though.” You reply in a gentle voice.

Almost every corner had reminded you of your ex, and you hated how your living space didn’t correspond to your taste anymore.

“Seeing Mingyu’s place, I’d like to be around when you do your renovations. I figured the penthouse was lacking in your personality, but still beautiful like the owner,” Wonwoo keeps his gaze trained on you. You burn under it and start helping him plate the food.

The action of plating the food together and chatting about each other’s lives felt so domestic and natural to you. If you were honest, you wish you were dating Wonwoo and never even met your ex.

You hated comparing your ex to Wonwoo, but the treatment was vastly different, even from the first time he had asked you out. Your ex had asked you out quite casually since he was a friend of a friend, whilst Wonwoo had really taken the time to consider your feelings and had given you time to think.

After dinner, you decided to take Wonwoo on a tour around your penthouse, the two of you easily conversing and feeling more comfortable with each other.

“You still manage to game in between your busy schedule? That’s so crazy,” you smile.

Wonwoo shrugs as the two of you make your way back to the living room, he finds your demeanor cute, and his heart continues to beat even harder for you.

“OK then, what do you do in your downtime little Ms. fashion designer?” He jokes. Wonwoo loved hearing about you or anything to do with you, he adored you that much, and he treasured every moment with you.

“I like niche hobbies, you know? I’ve always loved making handmade things, so beaded jewelry, crocheting, painting, and doing art. I also dabble in writing, reading, photography, and I dance,” you list all your hobbies down, not thinking much of it since no one had ever really asked about them besides your friends.

“Your hobbies are just as gorgeous as you are,” Wonwoo looks at you with a lovesick smile. He felt himself fall for you even harder, he was in too deep and he wouldn’t mind waiting years for you if he had to.

You felt your cheeks heat up and reply with a chuckle. It was only the first date and this man had already managed to make you blush, smile, and make you feel taken care of in just a matter of a few hours. You appreciated the way he treated you so carefully, and you were willing to give him a chance to be a part of your life now.

A few months had gone by in a blur with Wonwoo, and there was never a dull moment with him. From his daily words of affirmation, endless compliments, and a lot more dates he managed to fit into his schedule.

He never forced anything on you, and he was patient with you through and through. You couldn’t have been any more grateful for him for waiting on you for so long.

“Are you attending fashion week next week? I heard from Mingyu that you were offered a spot for your collection debut, that’s amazing Y/n,” Wonwoo smiles from the kitchen island.

You wave your hand dismissively, you felt shy whenever it came to these things, but seeing as Wonwoo was constantly up to date on your endeavors, much like you were with his, you couldn’t avoid it and decided to enjoy the thoughtfulness. He was just perfect, and with each passing day, you admittedly started falling for him just as hard.

“I am, do you want to go with me?” You replied. Wonwoo hums, eyes still on you and with a loving expression on his face.

“I’d be honored to go with you gorgeous, but I wouldn’t want to be crossing any lines with you. You do know that right?” Wonwoo replies.

He had always been so thoughtful, you wondered if the Gods above had finally decided to end your streak of failed relationships.

“Yes, Won. I hope you also know that in no way are you crossing lines by being with me, I mean, you’ve been nothing but amazing to me. Having you by my side is a breath of fresh air, I am always grateful to have you around,” You walk over and give Wonwoo a soft peck on the cheek.

“Great, I’ll ask my secretary to clear my schedule for next week then. Just so I can spend as much time with you as I can, you need all the support you can get since it is your official debut at such a huge event,” Wonwoo circles his arms around your waist and you rest your arms around his neck.

Though you were in a courting stage and weren’t exactly official, you and Wonwoo never shied away from small acts of affection, which slowly uncovered the reciprocated feelings that were starting to bloom on your end.

It was like Wonwoo fit into your life so effortlessly, he was the most supportive, loving, and soft-spoken person in the entire world. He was everything you could’ve ever wanted and he never got mad or raised his voice at you. He truly was perfect, perfect to the point that everyone had been itching for you to finally give him an answer, and you were going to eventually.

Soon enough, a week after that conversation had taken place, you were in Paris with Wonwoo, Mingyu, and a few of your other friends from your close inner circle for fashion week.

You all had arrived in France at around ten in the evening, deciding to go for a small dinner before you all became too swamped with work for the next few days.

“You two have been so cozy lately, it’s so adorable,” Mingyu comments during the dinner. Jennie hums from beside him, and Seungkwan chuckles as he notices you freeze up.

You regain your composure and throw Mingyu a stiff smile, seeing the mischievous glint in your best friend’s eyes.

“I’m just doing my best to treat her the best I can, she deserves the world, and I would give her more if I could. I don’t mind waiting an eternity if I have to, because I know it will be worth the wait to finally have her in my arms and to be able to call her mine,” Wonwoo suddenly spoke up.

You choke on your wine as the rest of your friends either have their jaws dropped or squealed with a newfound giddiness.

You look over at Wonwoo, and the man is staring at you, sincerity sparkling in your eyes. Wonwoo didn’t care about anyone else at that moment, you were the only woman he wanted, and he would do everything in his power to call you his.

He’s been made aware of your continuous strain of failed relationships, and he was determined to break that pattern because you were a woman of value who deserved every good thing the world had to offer.

Back at your hotel, you were suddenly restless after the dinner. A feeling of unease had crept up on you, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of your official debut at fashion week, or the fact that you were going to be facing hundreds of people tomorrow. You were always good at handling crowds, but with an event like Fashion Week, you had no idea what to expect.

“Hey, you’re pacing. What’s going on? Is something on your mind?” Wonwoo had walked out of the bedroom and noticed you pacing around nonstop in the living room. You shake your head at him, brushing off your anxiety, and telling him you were fine when you weren’t.

“You’re not ok, I can tell. Sit down and let’s unpack if you’re up for it, or we can just cuddle. The choice is yours,” Wonwoo brings you into his arms, and you bask in his warmth and comfort.

You felt so vulnerable and wanted to just rest in someone’s arms, so when Wonwoo picked you up and brought you over to the couch, you welcomed the gesture.

“You never fail to make me feel better Won, thank you for always being the best. I feel so bad for being vulnerable right now, but you constantly take care of me so well. I swear it’s just nothing and it’s just my nerves getting the best of me because of tomorrow,” Wonwoo held you tighter, and you never felt so safe in someone’s arms before.

“They’re going to love you out there, you’ve already gotten this far on your own, building your company up higher and higher. You deserve everything Y/n, and we’ll be by your side the entire time to support you. Breathe in and breathe out, the crowds won’t be a bother since we’ll make sure you get there in one piece, ok?” You nod into Wonwoo’s chest and feel his steady breathing.

It felt so nice being so close to him, and you finally decided that it was time to give him an answer and make things official between you both. “Won, could I tell you something?” You look up at him. Wonwoo nods and smiles softly as he runs a hand through your hair.

“Anything you need pretty girl, I’m all ears,” You swore you felt your heart melt. He just looked at you with so much adoration and love in his eyes, you didn’t understand what you did to deserve someone like him.

“I think I’m ready to make things official between us, I had a whole other thing planned out in how I would give you my answer, but that backfired and I couldn’t hold it in any longer,” You were yapping at this point, but Wonwoo let you go on your tangent like usual with a huge grin on his face.

“You don’t understand how happy I am to hear those words coming from you, thank you for giving me the chance to treat you right, gorgeous. Any answer from you would make me happy either way and now I get to officially call you my girlfriend,” Wonwoo plants a chaste kiss on your lips and pulls away to see you looking like a blushing mess.

Loving Wonwoo was so easy, being with him was easy, and you both effortlessly fit into each other’s lives. Maybe you weren’t the problem, but the people you had been with were just the wrong ones.

When the next day rolled around, you were already awake in bed, wrapped in not only the comforter but also in Wonwoo’s arms.

You turned to face him and watched his sleeping form, you couldn’t comprehend that he was finally yours, and suddenly every moment spent with him over the past few months had started coming back to you.

The flowers were always the most memorable. Wonwoo would constantly buy you flowers, whether they meant something or not, he would always have them on hand during a date or when he simply visited you throughout the week.

“You don’t have to get me flowers all the time you know? I love and appreciate the gesture but I hate to see you spend so much,” You giggle. Wonwoo shakes his head dismissively and pretends to shush you, causing you to laugh at his actions.

“I want to, and besides, why make money when I can’t spend it on you? You deserve it. You work so hard every day and it’s my token of appreciation for the most outstanding woman I could ever be with,” Wonwoo replies proudly. Always the charmer, Jeon Wonwoo.

The next most memorable thing was just Wonwoo’s endless effort to take care of you and make you feel loved in every way possible.

Since Wonwoo is the caretaker type, he would meticulously plan out dates, ask your secretary for your schedule ahead of time, and even ask you what you felt like doing that day just so you could be happy. It was something you never thought would ever be possible in your years of dating.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” You hear Wonwoo’s morning voice and it snaps you out of your daze.

Wonwoo was there, arms around your waist, and looking soft as ever. You run a hand through his hair and hold him close to you.

“I was just thinking about how amazing the past few months with you had been, you always do so much for me, and I always appreciate the effort. Thank you Wonwoo,” You kiss him and Wonwoo responds with just as much need. He cups your face and you instantly melt into the touch of his hand.

“I will continue to treat you as such, and I hope you do not expect any less. You’re the reason I keep going these days, and being with you is something I will forever thank the stars for doing. I can’t wait to spend all these years with you, Y/n,” Wonwoo pulls away and takes in your features.

You chuckle and sit up in bed before taking your phone from the nightstand. You check the time and in moments, you realize you still need to get ready.

“Won, I’m gonna go get ready. We leave for the venue in an hour or two for final adjustments, and I still need my hair and wardrobe done before we leave,” You practically jump out of bed and Wonwoo laughs at how frantic you are. Always the perfectionist, but he found you endearing in every way possible.

Wonwoo watches as you get your hair and makeup done, his own not taking as much time, so he decided to watch you get yours done.

“You’re staring, Mr. Jeon,” You notice him from behind you. Wonwoo shakes his head and continues to watch you. You are the most beautiful woman in his eyes without a single doubt.

At the venue, there were already a lot of people lined up and getting ready for the fashion show. The press was there taking pictures of the celebrities, and you noticed Mingyu, Jeonghan, and Minghao eating up the attention.

Crowds were going wild at how gorgeous your friends looked, but you and Wonwoo decided to catch up with them after the show since you still had to go backstage.

“Will you be fine with Yerin, love? I don’t wanna disturb your work so I’ll be heading out to join the others. If you need me, just ask her to call me and I’ll be here for you,” Wonwoo smiles. He knows how much focus you’ll be putting on the show, so he decided not to delay you any longer.

“I’ll be ok, love. Thank you, again. You guys just sit back and enjoy the show, and I’ll be right with you guys,” You smile warmly.

Wonwoo nods and makes his way out to find Mingyu, Jeonghan, Seungcheol, Minghao, and Seungkwan, who are already seated near each other.

“Wonwoo! Over here! Can you believe it? Y/n’s finally officially debuting overseas, she deserves it so much,” Wonwoo slips into the seat beside Mingyu, and takes notice of your friends Jennie, Lisa, Jisoo, and Rosé sitting behind them.

“She’s been working so hard lately, she really does deserve it,” Wonwoo replies proudly. Soonyoung and Vernon joined them shortly after, along with Joshua and Seokmin, and the show was finally about to begin.

The models walked down, all in pieces Wonwoo had seen in your sketchbook, and now they were finally coming to life. From the shoes to the bags, all the way down to the accessories, he could recognize your designs from anywhere because it was just so you. He took videos because he proudly wanted to show you that he is always going to be your number one supporter.

The show had gone by in a breeze, and you came out from behind the models, looking like one of them even, before bowing as the audience clapped for you. Wonwoo could see the sparkle in your eyes, and the way you were glowing with happiness. You look like an angel.

All your close circle of friends had then gathered, and you walked towards them. They showered you with words of congratulations, how proud they were of you, and you thanked your friends for their endless support. Out of nowhere though, as Lisa was hugging you to congratulate you, your eyes fell on Wonwoo, who was holding a beautiful bouquet of roses.

Mingyu laughed as he pushed the man toward you, and you felt shy upon seeing his appearance. Wonwoo looked so dashing while wearing a full collection of your clothes, and he was handing you your favorite flowers like a prince. You wish you were dreaming because everything felt so surreal at that moment.

113 notes · View notes

shaisuki · 24 days

Text

DADDY'S HOME

FT. GOJO SATORU, NANAMI KENTO, TOJI FUSHIGURO, GETO SUGURU

content warnings: yandere themes, past mentions of abuse, noncon, baby trapping, dubcon, manipulation, stalking, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, ooc characters, crying, redemption arc?, murder, abuse, rushed writing. dead dove do not eat.

notes. my first post in april. been struggling for awhile and having writer's block plus having the new addition of two chunky puppies that looks like potatoes with legs. requests are slowly being worked on and i deeply apologize for the delay. thank you!

synopsis: long they searched for you and only to find out you have a child. their child. would they be still the same person who had hurt you or a changed man for the sake of your child?

GOJO SATORU

“where's your mom, little guy?”

there is no doubt about it. the child in front of him is his. it is like looking at the younger version of himself except for the hair, dyed black to conceal the snow-white hair identical to him. how fast can he come up with the conclusion that the child is his?

gojo was careful of the past hookups he got tangled with. there's no way he will knock some random stranger and be forced to take responsibility for a child he didn't want. there is only one person he did get pregnant, you.

his wife who escaped left him a few years ago with his unborn child growing inside your belly. funny how all those escape attempts you'd done in the past, you only succeeded once and that is when you're pregnant and then after that you disappeared like you didn't exist in his life but gojo isn't that willing to let you go. he will find you. there's no force or power in this life that can stop in him and only fate to intervene and guide him to you which leaves him in this current situation.

the sun begins to set and the clouds turned into a mix of oranges and red. the swing makes a creaking sound as it sways back and forth along with chains clanging with every move. resonating into the emptiness of the park and his son only ignores him. barely glancing at him while staring at the distance. waiting. waiting for his mother. waiting for his wife to pick him up.

gojo chuckles at the cold treatment his son have been giving him. hadn't been the most affectionate person just like when he's at that age. unforgiving and arrogant. he looked at the ground beneath him. a brief memory flashes by before looking at his son again. leaving the swing at a flash and sprinting towards someone. he follows the little boy and gojo smirks. fate do favor him.

“mama!” your little boy called to you. almost jumping in your arms and you fumbled a bit. balancing the plastic bags in your hold to pick up your son. threading his hair with your fingers and kissing his forehead like you always do.

“satoshi! sorry for making you wait. mama had errands to do. how are you?” in which your son looks at you with a huge grin in his face. making you smile in return and he whips his head to look at the swings and you followed his sight. there he is, your nightmare. the reason you have your son.

the temperature drops with every second as the wind blows stronger. you hugged your son tighter to you. your body freezing with your mind telling you to run and with a deep breath. you squeezed your son before taking a step backwards and turning around. never looking back.

he watched as his son went to you and you picking him up and you realizing that he's near you. just within arm's reach and that fear coming from you. good to know he still have a hold on you.

calm down! you tell to yourself while you carried satoshi away from that man. you know you can't hide from him forever. you will just run again. no matter how many times. you did it once — what's the difference of doing it again.

you write a mental note to yourself to pack your bags after this. you're not going back again to him, not with your child. you don't want him to go through the same things he put you through. he was already dead to your son and to you and he's merely a ghost who terrorizes you. when you got home, you made sure to lock all your doors before making dinner and tucking your son to bed and then you grab the bags.

after packing up the last necessities, you slowly trudged your way up to your son's room and your heart drops when you see him looming besides your son's sleeping figure.

“quite bold of you.” he began to speak and your lips tremble. he didn't face you and kept looking at his son. your face bereave with anger. “s—” the words die out before he interrupted you.

“going as far to dye my boy's hair. almost thought he's not mine and thinking you found yourself another man to take care of you. breaks my heart to kill him and take you.” caressing his son's hair. satoshi remained asleep despite the scene unfolding.

“satoshi doesn't need someone like you. we don't need you. stay away from him. from us.” you murmured. careful not to wake satoshi up and find his father. you don't need someone like gojo to be around satoshi.

“can't i?” said satoru. slowly standing up and making his way to you. “cause the last thing i remember, you were still mrs. gojo. pregnant with my baby.” you let out a silent yelp when he suddenly hugged you.

“let go.” you firmly warned him. squirming from his grasp but he only held you tighter. “i won't. now you're here with me. you don't know how much i have missed you.” he breathes out. his hand in the back of your head until it slowly descends on your back. squeezing the dips of your hips and you silently gasp. trying to keep the tears at bay. his nose in the pulse of your neck. breathing in your scent. “you won't deny me.” he whispers and before he could fully go down in you. he hears the bed creak, followed by someone shifting and a sniffle coming from his son. his hold got loose on you and with that, you pushed him off. joining his son in his bed to comfort him.

satoshi sniffles, his eyes fluttering and showing the blues that he inherited from his father. “mama?” he calls you and you immediately shush him. “mama's here, satoshi.” you coo. pulling the covers and tucking it beside you and satoshi latched into you. his eyes beading with tears. “it's just a nightmare, satoshi. nothing's going to hurt you.” you lied. there's only one who could hurt you both. the man who put you in hell for his own. he can do that to satoshi too and you won't let him.

although gojo had longed and wanted to take you there at the moment, he let you tend to his son. set aside the urges of longing for you who left him. a discovery he just had found hours ago. he's a father now. his back presses at the cold wall behind him and he melts at the tender moment before him. this is what you had been doing for the last five years and is it that long. five years. five years had gone by and he missed it. he wasn't there to take care for you and watch his child grow up. you stole the years and the moments where he could be with you and his son.

there's the gnawing feeling that eats him inside. the betrayal simmering in his chest the day you left him, days after he received the news that you were carrying his heir. it feels like an eternity after that.

when satoshi finally settled and you can hear the tiny snores coming from him. you slowly removed yourself from his side. it took awhile to pry his hands clutching your top before replacing it with a pillow. you kiss him in the forehead and it's finally to face him.

you're beneath him. his head hung low while he stares deeply at your eyes. both of your hands are pinned beside you. he glances at your bedside table. littered with pictures of you and satoshi. it makes his heart bleed to see him absent from all of it. he wasn't even there to see satoshi as a baby, taking his first step and see him grow to what he is now. it's all because you choose to leave him.

“you raised satoshi well.”

“i did. i'm not raising satoshi with you around.”

gojo hums, “oh, really? he didn't ask who might be his father is?” quite curious about it and he knows what you're about to answer and you didn't disappoint.

“i did. told his father was dead because you don't exist to us. to satoshi. why bother with us who don't want you?” you bravely stared back at his eyes and you thought this is going to be satoshi when he grows up to be satoru's age.

“i am bothered with it. my wife leaving me out of the blue with my child inside you. i told you, didn't i? i will always find you.”

you take a deep breath to keep the tears from spilling out of you. “five years. five years, satoru. you should have moved on. find another woman who can give what you want.”

“they can't if they are not you. why would I want myself another one when i know my wife and child are alive. how could you be so cruel to me, (y/n). you're my one and only.” gojo holds your cheek in his one hand while his eyes roam to your face and then landing in your lips.

he's been dying to kiss you for a long time and he can do it again. it feels like the first time he had kissed you. soft. gentle and sweet. it hurt him a bit to see you bite your lips with your eyes closed but he didn't care. he knows this was also the same way you reacted when you both created satoshi.

a familiar warmth creep up on him. his once cold heart melting at the contact of your lips against his. heart thrumming in slow beats. shallow breaths fans your skin and he gazes at you, with the same adoration present in the blues of his eyes.

“leave, satoru.” you protested but gojo ignores it. “no, i won't. you're stuck with me.” you cry softly when he kisses you again. hands wandering all over your body and whispering filth of how he missed your body.

“satoshi's sleeping next room.” he shushes you. “i know, that's why we have to keep quiet. you sure can manage that, mochi?” he didn't change with his nicknames and you were left weak and hopeless against his touches.

that night he ravaged you. marking the expanse of your skin. praising how you were still his wife and you never changed. the plushness of your body and just everything about you. motherhood is kind to you. he says. your body is made for him, nurturing his child and you freeze when he talks about putting one on you again. saying that he will give the next his all love with you present and you will both take care of satoshi and his sibling. you were terrified. tasting freedom once and he's back on you again to take it. escaping will be harder and you don't think it'll allow you with again.

in a blink of an eye, you were in your own prison again. you find yourself staring at the familiar garden and you think five years will change it. he kept it the same as the last when you left with promises that you will both be watching as your children played.

satoshi's hair had gone to its natural color. he's the spitting image of his father much to his delight but his child remained wary of him. even he's staring at the older image of him. he remained by your side.

“will i have a baby brother, mama?” he asks you while you were resting. “i don't know, satoshi. do you want a baby brother?” caressing your swollen belly and you fought the tears. satoshi noticing the tears pooling in your eyes, instantly expresses his concern. “no...no. mama is just a bit tired, satoshi. don't you worry about it, okay?” you assure him. “is it the baby?” you nodded at his question. he pouts at your answer. “then i don't want a baby brother.... or a sister!” he exclaims before jumping to hug you.

“satoshi, don't be mean to your baby brother or sister.” your husband pulls satoshi from you. “i hate who makes mama cry.” gojo chuckles at him. “me too, satoshi. let's protect your mama, shall we?” he embraces your son. satoshi nods, and you die a little inside.

you will spend the next years playing house with him with a new addition to this family. you still can't accept this. his words haunts you and you just can't.

gojo caresses your belly. looking at you with a smile on his face. “can't wait for this little one to arrive.” he says to you and you crack a smile at him. the thought of escape no longer lingers in your mind. not that you can think when you have a child with him and one coming.

NANAMI KENTO

nanami didn't take you leaving him to be so distressing. his life revolving around you and a baby on the way. it's going to be complete. a life with you and it took one night for you to leave him without a trace and so he goes back to working overtime.

the first days were grueling. searching for everywhere. going as far in finding information with your relatives who had given up on finding you. there's no sign of you. he spent the days and night thinking about you. worried about how you're doing without him. what about the baby? if the baby was to survive and reach the age of consciousness will his child think of him? the thoughts are endless and he don't think he can live another day without you.

the fluorescent lights are too bright for his eyes that has been drowned by the darkness of his room. his headaches becoming unbearable as the minute passes by and the stench of the hospital adding to his already dulled senses. cheeks hollowed with his sunken eyes. dragging his step to move forward. he shouldn't be here but if he wants to continue his job, a prescription would be nice from a professional.

after a scolding from the older doctor, balding with a pot belly. yapping about his health while he wrote his prescription. consisting of vitamins and stuff he didn't bother to read cause he will only give it to the pharmacist and continue his own source of living.

he was nearing the exit when a particular sign caught his sight. pediatric & maternity ward. he stops for a moment. wondering if you were here and he's accompanying you to get the first check up of your pregnancy and then an appointment for your ultrasound. hear the first heartbeat of his child and know the due date of you giving birth.

it's almost a year since you left him and he was to blame. nanami knows it was wrong to keep you for himself. telling that the outside world is dangerous for someone like you and he's facing the consequences of hurting you.

you must have given birth at this day and the baby must be four-months old. his heart grows heavy the more he thinks of you and his child. he began to walk away, the ward giving him pain and the regrets showing up. before he could step outside the doors from the ward opens and he hears a voice that he misses dearly.

when he turned around, he had to rubbed his eyes to ensure his vision wasn't playing him. there you stood, a nurse assisting you and talking on what he can assume as good wishes to you.

his breath hitches and when the nurse bid you farewell before going back to her duties. you smile back at the nurse and your attention is back in your baby. adjusting the blanket to provide warmth for the infant and when you were contented from it, you raised you head to look at your way. beginning to walk and you notice him.

you stopped when you recognize him. out of all the places to meet him, a hospital it is. worst is — you have your baby with you. hesitating to move forward or turn around and look for a another exit but it's him. it's nanami. you couldn't forget him and his ways of making you feel trapped.

what feels like an eternity and standing like a statue you continued to walk. abandoning the fear of being under him again. you could just ignore him and go home and so you did.

it hurts so much to let you go and he didn't have the strength to confront you. knowing that you'll run again and he don't want to scare you and make things worst. it pains him and yet, he was at peace. a heavy weight being lifted from his chest and he thinks he can breath properly again.

it took him awhile to get back in his daily routine when you were still around. he'd gotten better. there's no longer the dark lines under his eyes and he seems productive nowadays. he knows you won't take him back and he can't do that again to you. he won't give you a reason to loathe him again — not when his child is present in both of your lives.

he got your address effortlessly and now, he's standing in front of your door. holding a bouquet of flowers and he's adjusting his tie before knocking in your front door. he hears the shuffle of feet and the lock clicking. revealing yourself in front of him.

in a span of a year, you slowly managed to get back on your feet. body aching while you wash yourself clean and heal the wounds you inflicted in yourself while you were in his captivity. you needed to change — if you were going to bring this baby in the world. a brand new start for yourself.

when you met him that day at the hospital with his child cradled in your arms. it won't be too long for him to get you back and you feared for the safety of your child. you know nanami isn't that heartless but considering how could he be selfish at times — you knew what fate would await for your daughter.

not until he came knocking at your door. you weren't prepared for it and you did what only you can do — shut the door. it didn't happen, his arm blocking the door. “please, darling. let me explain.” he pleaded and it kinds of break your heart to hear him pleading but you're too hurt to give in. “leave us alone, kento.” you say to him but he's persistent.

he won't be leaving anytime soon, you think and maybe he'll force his way and escalate into something that can harm you or your child and you give in. you pull the door open and nanami sighs in relief when you opened the door for him.

“what do you want?” you bite your tongue when you said it. he didn't need to answer, you know what he wants.

“can we talk?” although he's a little worried about how you will react about it considering his past mistakes and he knows you're not going to open up at him anytime soon.

he didn't missed the change in your attitude. what hostility forming into you change into something of a hesitation. chewing into your lips as you decide whether you were ready to talk to him until you nodded. granting him to explain what he was about to say to you.

“come inside.” you softly mutter as you turned your back around him.

the full force of his regrets came crashing down at him from how the way you treat him. a reflection of how he badly treated you from shielding you against the world when it was him who was truly hurting you.

“so...” you started to speak at him. “what brings you here?” why are you this!? you thought to yourself. screaming internally at the the questions you were asking to him. how come you are this weak when it comes to this. you needed to be strong. prepare for the worst.

“you. i came here for you and for the baby. forgive me, darling but is the baby mine?”

you flinch when he questioned your baby's parentage and the bottled up feelings you were suppressing instantly bursting into the scene.

“is the baby yours?...” your words drawl out. “is the baby yours!? i didn't know that you could be this stupid, kento?! you kept me chained for years and knocked me up with your baby and you question me about her! how could you....?” so much for suppressing the feelings you couldn't say to him for a long time.

a wave of regret washes over him and you were right. he is stupid. you were crying because of him again. you were shaking like a leaf while tears continuously flowing out from your eyes. your sobs are muffled and tears are soaking his shirt. his chin resting in the top of your head while he held you close. he wishes he could take your pain. redeem himself from his old ways of treating you bad.

“you come here telling me you want me back and you want to be a part of her life.....” days. nights. you were thinking of him despite what he had done to you. “i told you, i didn't want her. didn't want a child for me to raise... cried myself to sleep every night after escaping you.” it was true. how you feel your baby growing inside you every seconds of your life, it terrified you. thinking how can you raise the baby.

kento's eyes softened. he didn't know it would hurt so much like he felt when you left him. you were getting the brunt of it more than he did. he thinks back from the days of how he treated you and the whole duration of your pregnancy and you giving birth alone. you must been so scared and alone.

all of that, the words of what you said sinking deeper in his skin. remorse and regret is evident in his face while he held you.

“i didn't know.” he whisper, his voice above a breath. “i didn't know you felt that way, darling.” the endearment of what he used to call you and calling you again with it again cause more tears to spring in your eyes. oh, how you love and hate him at the same time.

“i didn't know i could hurt you this bad, i—i was only thinking that if i have you back, everything will be fine. i didn't realize i was hurting you this much.”

he slowly moves away from you. reaching tentatively to hold your hands and his heart breaks to see the face he loves so much to be this hurt. “i want to make things right, darling.” there's a slight tremor in his voice. “i know i can't undo what i had done to you, but please, let me be here for you, for our child.” he holds your hands gently. “i'll do whatever to earn your forgiveness.” you were taken aback from all of it but deep down you could never trust him or forgive him. you didn't respond and you can only shake your head not until you hear crying in the nursery room where your baby sleeps.

“if you want to be better, leave us.” you began to walk away and as much nanami wants to snatch you again, you stop in your tracks. “and maybe, i'll let you back to us.”

“for now.” you added.

he kept true to his words. it's hard but it can never compare of what you had been through and he respects the boundary you were setting. he sent you flowers during the time he wasn't around and it was not enough, he needed to see you and when he did, he was granted to see his daughter, hold her in his arms.

the baby looks like you except for the blonde hair and it was just like he dreamt. a family with you. she's perfect. perfect as her mother who graced him with her presence and this baby, he will protect this child with you.

he finds you crying. masking it as dust getting in your eyes but nanami knows you like the back of his hand. after tucking his daughter back to her crib, he joins you. sitting beside you and it broke his heart a million pieces knowing you were still in the process of forgiving him.

he's a father now but he is still your husband. “i'm so sorry, darling.” he whispers, holding your hand in his. pulling you closer to rest your head in his shoulder but nanami had longed to kiss you again.

he cups your face in his hands. caressing your round cheeks and despite wanting to recoil from his touch and avoid his gaze, some part of you wants to be held like this and you can't lie to yourself that you missed him despite everything. tough love it was or is it there still love in that?

“let me make it up you.” you shaked your head. closing your eyes and a tear escaped from the corner of your eye. nanami frowns. sighing before pressing his forehead into yours for a moment before pulling away to kiss your forehead.

this is nothing, he will endure it for a very long time until he can be yours again.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

he call it a happy accident. toji happens to beat that self-proclaimed sorcerer piece of shit and now, that shit is meeting his creator. he pays the body no mind when that weather wallet of this weakling drops beside his body. well, it's not the body is only cold. he expects to find some cold, hard cash there and he gets more than that. a picture of his wife and toji clicks his tongue. kicking the son of a bitch's body. annoyed that his wife is playing house with a another man that didn't even manage to put a scratch on him.

an idea appeared in his mind and toji smirks. he could pay this wife of his a visit. you would be so happy to meet him.

he came knocking at your door and the look you expressed is the best you can ever muster in a true horror of him finding you, it didn't disappoint.

“hey there wife. remember me?” he said in the most cocky voice he can muster and look at you, you're almost shaking in your boots but toji is surprised as you are when you were holding a toddler in your arms. a dead ringer of him. round, emerald eyes with the same eyelashes and face as his. clutching your blouse with a pacifier in his mouth.

his sight narrows to his son and to you. his once surprised face being replaced with a bored look and you couldn't even bring yourself to close the door. you don't know what he's thinking and so he got you when you're weak.

“you birthed a brat and it's mine?” it's not a question really when he comes doing this. his hard body pressed against your soft one. trapped in the cold table where you prepare him tea. insisting that he's a guest in your house and you must be a good host to serve him.

toji sighs, a low grunt coming from him. “you could be so mean if you want to. hiding my child and you come playing house with a man you replaced me with.” your blood runs cold with every words he said and the hands wandering all over your body until it came creeping below your blouse and his rough hands are squeezing the flesh of your stomach. you closed your eyes shut.

“he's a good man. which you will never be and you killed him.” your lungs contracts before releasing a breath that will took you days, months or for years to tell him that and you said it in one breath.

his eyebrows twitch. a look of disdain dawning in his face. just because you tasted freedom and you're acting like a goddamn independent bitch. you deserved to be punished.

the tea's now forgotten cold. you're pinned in the counter top with toji's cupping your jaw in a deathly grip. the skin of your wrist turning into a another shade. the circulation cut off and it begins to numb.

“who said about me being good man? he's a weakling who can't even protect himself and that weakling lead me to you and you're his what? his bitch? a body to warm his bed? when you should be doing it to mine!? you're one ungrateful bitch.” toji chuckles and he smirks triumphantly.

“my kindness needs to be paid, princess.” and here he goes calling you with the spiteful nickname to you.

he didn't give you the time to reply and forcefully kissed you. you almost choked at his whole body weight crushing your own. you couldn't even move your face to the side and reject that kiss of him. you didn't need him and your mind froze thinking of megumi.

you don't want him to see you in this position with his father. you kissed back, giving him what he wants so you can tell him. resistance is futile with megumi present in your life now.

toji grunts. you can feel him smile against your lips and when he breaks the kiss. you stare at him with your eyes pleading. “megumi.” and toji got the message of what you're talking. he glances at the door of the kitchen and he can the tiny shadow of his son walking, although a little wobbly and using the walls to balance himself. he scoffs at his son, ruining his reunion with his mother and toji is quite annoyed by it but it didn't stop him from feeling proud of birthing his son.

toji lets you free and your knees wobbled, giving out on you and you were left kneeling at the cold floor. megumi spotted you and in his own steps made his way to you in which you hugged him tightly.

“you ain't going to introduce him to his old man, wife?” you pursed your lips at his question and ignored him. rubbing megumi's back and shutting his father out and it ticked toji to just take his son away from you but resisted the urge to do so. knowing he can use this to keep you to him again. you would be so obedient with a little threat.

“careful now. you don't want me taking our little megumi away from you.” he warns. “now, put megumi to sleep and we can continue this little reunion of ours.” you nodded and you immediately scamper away from him and you see the front door. you can run but he'll catch you. you accepted your fate now and you would take the brunt of his punishments cause you're a disobedient wide who didn't care about your husband's desire.

it would be a waste to chain you again. toji thought. you're a mother now and he got a son with you. he don't want any interfering from how you will raise his son. he couldn't think about anything and maybe after you put megumi to sleep. he could think the ways he could keep you by his side again. for now, he'll just be a little patient and he can have you again for himself again.

GETO SUGURU

it was a mix of being ashamed and scared.

you knew this day will come when suguru and his child will reunite once again. the last he seen you was a baby bump visible in your dress in which he was happy. it did take root. a new lineage for the age of sorcerers.

dusk beginning to settle in the skies and you were supposed to fetch your son in the front yard telling that supper is ready and to your surprise. you found suguru standing tall, head low to face your son. a smile plastered in his face the whole time talking to your son and then he notices your stiff figure standing in the pavement before slowly walking towards them.

“i am your father. did your mommy told you that?” he asks and your son is processing what the words could mean. taking a glance between you and to his father. waiting for an answer in which you remained silent and only to tell him to go inside and wait for you.

suguru smiles. the smile that you hadn't seen for years and you can't deny that it still have an effect on you. “missed me, (y/n)?” the curse user spoke to you. his black and long hair swaying in the rhythm of the gentle breeze blowing.

“not really.” you honestly said to him and suguru's eyes changes into something dark from how you responded. “guess you got tired of all that luxury or everything's not enough for you.” he tuts. following the changes that is present in your face but he only received a curt shake of your head.

how shallow is that. you were like a pet to him. something he owned. a possession. he didn't like you being you and so you were lavished with expensive stuff that would keep you chained from the compound and to his little family. family. one you never had and never truly belonged in his place however you laid with him every night and the result, your son. living and breathing.

once you found out you were with child. it was a realization that you were never free and it hit you that this child will suffer the same fate as you and so you walked out. never looking back with the sole intention that you will raise this child with a perspective of the world and not to be influenced. his own and so you lived for years in peace until he showed up.

a shiver went down your spine from the contact of his fingers tracing to your soft jawline. electric and shocking. with a touch you will obey him but it's different. you're a mother now and something so good will only bring you to your own demise and it will extend to your child.

it is but you missed him touching you. a slave for his affections and you weren't really different from your past self. mustering the courage is the same as surrending yourself from the man who you treated as your world.

closing your eyes and you raised your head to meet suguru's eyes. purple it is. “you would understand why i left you, suguru. i can't raise ryū in that place.”

“and you think excluding me from ryū's life will change it?” not breaking eye contact while he caress your round cheek.

“yes. you're mad suguru and i can't change that.”

suguru chuckles. how motherhood impacted your ways of thinking. finding it so endearing to see you standing up and you wouldn't believe it that he's much more in love with your or whatever he was feeling. he knows it's bad for him and to you. “look at that, motherhood did you good. mad? i'll show what's mad, my dear wife.” he leans to whisper something to your ear. “i will let this go once and then prepare yourself. you will be back to me and with ryū, there's no chance of turning your back away from me.” he softly threatens to you and it weighs heavier. a contrast of the mellow tone of voice he was using.

“see you soon, (y/n).” kissing your cheeks before waving a hand to say goodbye to your son who was staring behind the windows.

suguru left after that and you knew what's about to come and you wished none of that will happen but suguru was always true to his words and you abandoned hope.

he will come back.

#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader #yandere jjk x reader #jjk scenarios #jjk x chubby reader #gojo x reader #yandere gojo x reader #gojo x chubby reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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jdgo51 · 1 year

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How Long, Lord?

Today's inspiration comes from:

Waiting In Hope

by Kelley Ramsey and Jenn Hesse

Editor’s note: This devotion is helpful for all of us in a season of waiting and hurting. But, notably, April 23-29 is National Infertility Awareness Week. Today, let’s pray for our sisters and daughters (and their husbands) who are enduring through infertility and miscarriage. If you know someone who is in the midst of infertility, share this devotional with them today.

"How long, Lord? Will You forget me forever? How long will You hide Your face from me?" — Psalm 13:1

"'Anger is a messy feeling. It can become overwhelming and downright ugly in a split second. Infertility made me (Kelley) angry because of all the unknowns. As the heartache dragged on, I fixated on one question: How long must I wait for a child? I battled this thought to keep it from becoming a fear. But it was hard not to feel exasperated when I just wanted the agony to end.

Sometimes anger begins with shock. Brooke explained how going through miscarriage shook her to her core, leading her to question God’s very nature. “Suddenly, God felt unsafe, scary, and unpredictable. He was no longer trustworthy. Mentally, I ran from Him, closing off my heart to the One I felt had inflicted such pain. I walked around for weeks telling everyone that God was simply mean. What else could I conclude after so many miscarriages?”

Our attempts to get pregnant and carry a baby show us how little we can control. Trying to conceive is just that — trying. No matter how much we try, conception is still in the sovereignty of God’s will and creating hands. Therefore, it’s easy for our waiting to make us angry at God, ourselves, our bodies, our husbands, or other people. We long for an explanation for our brokenness, and we seek a target for our intense feelings.

Jaclyn, my friend and our Waiting in Hope community director, shared honestly about where she directed her anger: “I was angry with God. Angry at His chosen silence. Angry that in my greatest pain, God felt so far off. I wondered what the point of having a personal relationship with God was if He was going to be silent. Why wasn’t He making His comfort, His love, His goodness, and His peace tangible to me, His daughter, in my times of greatest need?”

The Source of Anger

Most of us feel guilty about being angry. We consider anger a destructive emotion that we shouldn’t have or express. However, anger isn’t necessarily a bad emotion. So let’s start by investigating the source of our anger.

Anger can be holy and based on injustice. Throughout the Bible, prophets expressed anger and lament over the injustice done to God’s people. Likewise, God stirs anger in us, often to prompt us to respond to an injustice or a need. Think about Jesus at the temple flipping tables because they were being used for unholy purposes (Matthew 21:12).

Infertility is a type of injustice. As we have seen, life is unfair due to the brokenness of this world. The sins of Adam and Eve brought all humans pain and hardship, including effects on our womanhood.

In Genesis 3:15–16, God said to the serpent (Satan), “‘And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her Seed...’ To the woman He said: ‘I will greatly multiply your sorrow and your conception; in pain you shall bring forth children’” (NKJV).

God knew Satan would hate women. However, it’s essential to understand that one consequence of the fallen world is a tainted childbearing process. Intensified pain entered the story at the fall, but thankfully this wasn’t God’s original design or his end to this story or our story.

When our expectations are not met, it’s okay (and normal) to be disappointed. It leaves us confused as our questions of disbelief grow each day. We can’t possibly understand, make sense of, or control the instability around us. These unknowns can lead to festering anger. And through our questioning of these unknowns, our anger intensifies.

In my overwhelming anger, I wondered many times whether God saw me or cared, or, as Jaclyn questioned, was His silence His answer for my heart? Was He showing me I was alone even from Him?

God has not left us, even when our emotions tell us otherwise. The anger from our unmet expectations makes us believe we deserve different from what God is providing. Yet why do we think God owes us a life free of pain?

Isaiah 43:2 describes hardship as “when you pass through the waters,” “when you pass through the rivers,” and “when you walk through the fire.” Notice that it’s not if you will endure hardship, but when. The trials are stated as a given. Like Christ, we, too, will experience pain in this broken, sinful world. Jesus said in John 16:33 that we should expect pain and suffering in this world. Yet He is with us, overcoming the world and providing us peace.

God has not left us, even when our emotions tell us otherwise.

The Direction of Anger

Years ago, Justin and I were experiencing frustrations and restless hearts regarding significant church situations, which led us to seek wise counsel. A trusted church pastor listened as we expressed our feelings, and he lovingly explained that God sometimes uses our frustrations and uneasiness to stir change in us.

He advised us to examine the cause of our feelings and warned us that anger could turn unholy if God is asking us to act and we do not. Wisdom is seeking God’s leading to adjust, jump, or change courses before our feelings lead to outbursts of anger aimed at the church, God, or others.

Anger often seeks a target. It’s an emotion that is directed toward someone or something. At some point, you’ve likely been angry at yourself, your body, your past, your future, your spouse, a friend, or a family member.

There is a safe direction for our anger, and that place is the Lord. Our Creator and King is good, strong, and faithful to handle everything, even anger. He allows us to express and vocalize our grief and frustration through the process of lament.

In Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy, pastor and author Mark Vroegop describes how learning to lament involves a kind of complaining that is biblical. “Through godly complaint we are able to express our disappointment and move toward resolution. We complain on the basis of our belief in who God is and what he can do.”1

The books of Psalms and Lamentations give us examples for how to express lament. These prayers describe explosive feelings, even anger, that can lead us to God. Lament can become our pathway to God when life is hard or God feels far off. Most psalms of lament or sorrow start with anguish and build into confidence in God, resulting in praise toward Him.

But God has surely listened and has heard my prayer. Praise be to God, who has not rejected my prayer or withheld His love from me! — Psalm 66:19–20

We can practice lament by following this same pattern.

Turn to God in prayer. Bring your complaints and circumstances to Him. Acknowledging that He is in control gives words to the tension between what we know about God and how we feel about Him. Ask God to act. Ask God boldly to act on your behalf, believing that He is God and has good purposes for your pain and needs. Choose to trust God. This is an active surrender of your life to God and the beginning of acceptance as you release control over your unknowns. When you surrender to God, your questions find a place to go. Author Elisabeth Elliot described how she came to this place of acceptance: “Whatever is in the cup that God is offering to me, whether it be pain and sorrow and suffering and grief along with the many more joys, I’m willing to take it because I trust him. Because I know that what God wants for me is the very best.”2 Your anger could be the catalyst God uses to draw you closer to Him.

Lament Leads to Trust

In his laments of sorrow, David cried out,

How long, Lord? — Psalm 13:1

Lamenting gives us permission to feel sorrow, acknowledge the real emotions, and rant to the Lord. Yet it doesn’t stop there. Our protests are transformed into petitions and then praise.

These authentic and intimate prayers in pain lead to trust, a way to praise God through uncertainty and sorrow. The truth of who God is can reign when we honestly surrender and no longer pretend that everything is okay.

We can’t know how long, but God does.

He hasn’t forgotten you. How could He? You are His child, and that would be impossible for the God who sees and knows every last detail about you — from the number of hairs on your head to the dozens of pregnancy tests that made you burst into tears.

Though His face seems hidden, God has never left your side. Believe that the One who saved you will someday, somehow make this right too.

Reflect

Have you ever shared laments of sorrow like David: “How long, Lord?” Explain. Describe how you’ve been angry during your journey. Consider whether your anger has been directed at someone or something; then write about it. What do you think about the concept of directing your anger toward God? How can lamenting to God be helpful in your pain? Pray

Pray this prayer of lament from Psalm 42:3–8 (ESV): Lord God, “my tears have been my food day and night, while they say to me all the day long, ‘Where is your God?’ These things I remember, as I pour out my soul:... Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise Him, my salvation and my God. My soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember you... Deep calls to deep at the roar of your waterfalls; all your breakers and your waves have gone over me. By day the Lord commands His steadfast love, and at night His song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life.”

Act

Start lamenting to God in your sadness, anger, and overflowing feelings. Yell out to Him in your car, on a run, or in the shower. Sometimes it’s helpful to hear your audible voice crying out to Him as David did in the psalms. Then ask God, “Speak to me; I need to hear from You. What do you say about my pain?” Be silent and listen for His still, small voice (1 Kings 19:12) to whisper to your heart. If this is new for you, start reading the psalms for examples."'

Mark Vroegop, Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy (Wheaton: Crossway, 2019), 44. Elisabeth Elliot, Suffering Is Never for Nothing (Nashville: B&H Publishing Group, 2019), 54. Excerpted with permission from Waiting in Hope by Kelley Ramsey and Jenn Hesse, copyright Kelley Ramsey and Jenn Hesse.

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hazbinbargainbin · 1 year

Text

I posted 982 times in 2022

That's 789 more posts than 2021!

392 posts created (40%)

590 posts reblogged (60%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@arachn0philia

@hazbinbargainbin

@hellizens-a

@poisoncandyhearts

@smiledotdeer-a

I tagged 975 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#i feel the heat; i see the light (angel dust) - 314 posts

#the radio demon (alastor) - 162 posts

#pun mun - 138 posts

#the audience (answered ask) - 124 posts

#lets try something new! (ask memes) - 121 posts

#wait - there's a script? (ooc) - 112 posts

#shady spectators (anonymous) - 89 posts

#not for the kiddins (nsfw) - 84 posts

#prince of hell; father of one (stolas) - 82 posts

#oh the dashboard melted but we've still got the radio (dashboard) - 78 posts

Longest Tag: 129 characters

#(hi hello i haven't been able to write for a few days. i'm keeping the event up for a little longer to deal with my stupid brain)

My Top Posts in 2022:

Silk and pennies

Closed starter for @poisoncandyhearts

"We gave you plenty of fuckin' chances, Valentino. Really would have thought this slut was worth more to ya then a few bucks..."

With the sound of a struggle and a short scream, a video ends before picking up into a fresh loop of threats, demands, and consequences for ignoring their previous attempts in a torturous choir of screams and cries. It's hard to say how many times it's played now, how many times Val's actually payed attention to it, but it's the last lead in a week long scramble to find his most profitable lover whore.

Well, until.

A text comes from his eyes and ears through all things tech, simple yet all too foreboding.

[Txt: Vox] Found him. You're not gonna be happy, though. Come meet us. [Address attached]

12 notes - Posted April 13, 2022

How Many People Are Simping For You?

“Are we...surprised? It’s a wise thing, not placing your affection in my hands. They’re far too bloodied to be gentle anymore.”

13 notes - Posted January 13, 2022

One more day. One more night, really.

It’s all come to a terrible, awful, nasty sort of head.

No warning nor context, Angel merely sends out a mass text to any and all contacts he can remember through the haze of his heat - the fact that he can properly type them in a miracle.

[txt] “Don’t care who comes. Someone’s gotta fuck me through this stupid fucking heat or I’m gonna croak. Please.”

24 notes - Posted April 3, 2022

Trust no one, not even-

One more hour...just one. more. hour.

It wasn’t an exaggeration, the day seemingly crawling on just to prolong the prince’s work. Exorcists have come from all over just to attack his humble home, to slay the many cowering souls inside. It’s been a nightmare trying to keep the barrier in tact.

His head hurts terribly. A fresh throb running through his nerves with each strike of a heavenly body against the shimmering veil.

It’s almost over though...enough so that he considers dropping said veil, allowing the souls inside to fend for themselves for the last minutes of the ‘holiday’. To hole up with his daughter in the safe space of their rooms - it’s far less area to protect, afterall. It’s not like they’re unarmed...despite his pleading that weapons be kept away from the place of peace. He’s not stupid enough to have tried to take them.

A brief break is taken from the crowd so Stolas can return to his room - several older radios set in a line all lit up. He kneads his feathers as he takes a seat on the bed, listening in. Calastor...Mr.Dan...Dubois...god, even Angel Dust is among them! There’s so many voices of pain that only add to the ache in Stolas’s skull, but he needs to listen. Ensure they’re alive so he might help them once the Angels take their leave. Click.

Stolas’s head whips behind him at the sound, startled that someone has followed him. He takes a breath to scold them, remind them that anything beyond the kitchen is off limits...but the breath stays in his throat as he turns to face his visitor, red eyes rounding with realization. “...What are you-”

See the full post

27 notes - Posted December 31, 2021

My #1 post of 2022

Meme tag | Available muses

Semi-selective RP/Ask blog for multiple characters from Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss

Multi Fandom and OC Friendly 7+ years rp experience Mun and muse 20+ NSFW themes present, preferably 18+ only. Canon + Fanon divergent Run by Avian

There is no expiration on any meme, just make it clear which meme it is so I can find it again! Also, if you are a personal main, please have SOME indication of a roleplay blog. Otherwise you might end up blocked by accident.

//PERSONALS DO NOT REBLOG//

61 notes - Posted January 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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atticuswritesstuff · 3 years

Note

Chrollo with a smarty pants/genius darling who acts out or tries to escape just because they’re bored/understimulated?

Author's note: I actually really fucking love this prompt so I am SUPER excited for this one. I too get very bored/understimulated often. Sorry, I got to it late cuz I just got back from a Montana trip!

Yandere!Chrollo x Bored!Reader

Summary: Chrollo's darling becomes bored being locked up all the time, decides to take yet another unsupervised trip out of the mansion.

Warnings: Anal/Assplay, overstimulation, punishment, spanking, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, yandere themes, BDSM themes, degradation

Character Description: afab, she/her use that's it

Word count: 4.5k

Attempt number seven. Seven times you had slipped through his fingers since the beginning of the year alone, each time becoming more and more elaborate.

Chrollo scoffed, storming through the woods, scanner in hand. It was beeping softly, indicating you weren't far.

It wasn't like you made any attempt to escape discreetly, jamming a fork into the neck of one of Chrollo's guards, puncturing his jugular before you made your way through the garden to the edge of the forest. As Chrollo watched a recording of it from the cameras, he was shocked at how nonchalantly you stabbed him before calmly walking off. If you had intended to run far, you weren't moving very fast.

The tracker started beeping a little faster now. He was getting closer.

The early April air was nipping at his cheeks, he couldn't fathom how you were out here in your pajamas, barefoot at that. Chrollo was more worried about you than just finding you. While your previous attempts had been clever, methodical, and downright genius, this time was very different to him. As far as he knew, you'd never killed anyone, and now you had decided to not only kill someone but patiently wait for him to be unfocused before sneaking upon him. You planned this.

Chrollo walked a couple more meters, finding the tracker was leading him to the nearby lake. When he came to the forest's edge, he could see you sitting at the edge of the dock, staring up at the moon.

You heard him approaching as soon as he broke through the treeline, it took him a bit longer to retrieve you than expected, although you attributed that to him thinking you were going to try and run far. A couple miles from the house wasn't necessarily far for a commoner, but this was farther than you'd ever been allowed.

Chrollo's heavy footsteps walked the length of the dock, stopping right behind you. He knew you would come quietly, after the first few times, you'd stopped escaping to try and get away, instead, you found the chase to be much more thrilling.

"Time to go, darling," He hummed nonchalantly.

"Five more minutes," You replied, swishing your feet through the near-freezing water, "The moon is so pretty tonight, wouldn't you agree?"

Chrollo gazed down at you, you were surprisingly clean considering you'd just stabbed someone. Not a single drop of blood on you anywhere. The only thing shielding you from the cold being a thin cami and a shamefully short pair of shorts.

Chrollo always admired your body, but the pajamas were a nice touch. They were a recent purchase, baby blue fabric with white lace trim, god how he wanted to tear the set off you.

"I didn't think you'd have it in you to take a man's life, darling," Chrollo stated.

"I didn't either," You chuckled, "But it's done now."

"Why not just sneak away?" He replied, sitting on the dock next to you, "He was unfocused, you could've done it easily if this was where you intended to go all along."

"You're right, I didn't have to kill him," You sighed, bringing one of your feet onto the dock, "I just wanted to see if I could. You left an anatomy book on your desk, I found the major arteries of the body to be very interesting."

"Now that I think about it," You continued, "Maybe I should've run farther, seeing you so desperately trying to find me is rather amusing."

“You enjoy being chased like a rabbit?” Chrollo mused.

“Believe it or not the thrill is more exciting than anything you’ve ever gifted to me,” You scoffed, “At least running gave me something to do that required thought. Something you seem to forget to provide.”

Poking at Chrollo’s care tactics wasn’t smart, but you didn’t know how else to get through to him that your current environment was extremely understimulating, and that you needed more. You could tell he was growing upset, but he wouldn’t dare show it outside of the house.

You pulled your knee to your chest, resting your cheek against it, "Do I have to go back?"

"Of course you do, darling," Chrollo replied, a warm hand rubbing up and down your back, "Why wouldn't you?"

You scoffed, "Probably because being a prisoner of marble and glass is dreadfully boring."

Chrollo's hand stopped, "You think the life I've worked so hard to build is boring?"

"Yup," You replied flatly, "Honestly I thought you kidnapping me would be a lot more fun, but it's even more boring than my old life."

Chrollo was becoming angrier with each word that came out of your mouth.

"Don't get me wrong, I know how hard you try, but my god I don't know how you stand it. You're sweet and all, but you're gonna bore me to death sooner or later, escaping actually gives me something to do," You hummed, pulling your other foot out of the water, "Anyways, we can go back now, this chase was more boring than I expected."

You rose from your place, turning to walk back to your cage. It took Chrollo a minute to get up and follow you, partially from the shock of your completely arrogant and nonchalant demeanor. The person you had become over the past two years almost reminded him of a certain magician he once knew.

Chrollo eyed you as your hips swayed, every muscle in your leg flexing and relaxing as you walked. It was something he adored about you, before he took you, you were one of your tribe's best, strongest dancers. The way you swayed and glided while you did the most basic of tasks was alluring to him. Now, he just watched you sit around and observe everything.

The view from walking behind you wasn't necessarily bad, though. Your pajama shorts gave him a nice view of your ass as you walked.

Sauntering through the woods, you could no longer hide how cold you were, the incessant shivering and blue tint to your skin proved that fact. Your feet even more so from being in the water.

You knew Chrollo was upset with what you'd said, you could tell immediately, but keeping the truth from him wasn't an option anymore. You had started to care for him some time ago. You really appreciated him, but god if he didn't allow you to do something you were going to lose your mind.

When you could just barely make out the edges of the garden approaching, you stopped mid-path, "Chrollo?"

He caught up to you in an instant, "Yes, darling?"

"I don't want to go back if I have to live like this," You felt tears well up in your eyes, "Please."

His hands found your hips, "Live like what? Talk to me darling, how can I make it better?"

"I don't want to just sit around and wait for you to come back. I'm tired of you being at my beck and call. O-Or just fucking sitting around waiting for you to come back," You felt a solemn tear roll down your cheek, "It's so fucking boring. Please just take me with you or give me something I can do for you or-"

"Darling," He cut you off with a firm hand over your mouth, the other still settled on your hip. He shushed you softly, lessening the pressure on your mouth, "Don't panic, I'm listening. I promise I'm hearing you, just speak slowly alright?"

You nodded, he took his hand off your mouth slowly, "Keep going, what can I do to help you?"

You thought about it, more tears spilling down your cheeks, "Take me with you. Don't leave me by myself anymore. I just want to be useful."

Scooping you up bridal style as he headed towards the garden, "I understand. Even in your old life, you were always helping others, weren't you?"

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and tucking your head into him. Closing your eyes, you breathed in his scent, trying to commit it to memory.

Chrollo's feet hit the marble floors of the hallway that led into the house, you could feel his warmth returning as he carried you inside.

"While I understand your frustrations, you did try to escape my love," He started, bringing you into your shared bedroom, "And that requires a punishment."

You winced, shaking your head against him, "Please, not again! I'm really sorry Sir I can do better-"

"No," He shushed you, setting you on the foot of the bed, "I have the solution to your problem, but only if you take your punishment, alright?"

You nodded slightly, your tear-stained cheeks slightly puffy and red from the cold.

"Alright," He purred, his hands rubbing up and down your shoulders, "I'll try to make this at least somewhat pleasant for you, ok?"

You nodded once again, finding comfort in the fact that he was at least going to please you.

"Lay back for me," He stated, pushing you back by your shoulders, "I'll be right back."

You stared up at the ceiling in anticipation, the last punishment was hard enough, but you couldn't pass up the opportunity to finally get out of the house. Chrollo had returned from the closet, setting something on the bench at the foot of the bed. He took off his shirt before crawling over you.

"You know what your punishment is, right?" He asked, a face cupping your cheek.

You nodded, "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl," He whispered, leaning down to give you the softest of kisses, just barely ghosting over your lips as he pulled the knife out of his back pocket.

Pressing it to your throat, you froze, knowing it had already begun.

"Just focus on me, darling," Chrollo whispered against your lips, "I won't cut you."

He kissed you once more, harder this time as he slowly dragged the knife down your neck. It was a 50/50 chance he would intentionally cut you, even if he said he wouldn't. It was the only thing he'd ever lied to you about, knowing that made your heart race.

His tongue invaded your mouth as he slid the knife down your chest, coming back up to cut your bralette off in between your breasts. You didn't even register the pain from him grazing you with the knife until it started throbbing.

You looked down, seeing a thin line of blood-forming directly in between your breasts.

"Whoops," he chuckled, gazing down at the same mark you were. He sat up, straddling your hips and now pinning you to the bed by your throat. Your bare chest tempted him to carve his name into your breasts, then you'd really know who you belonged to. Chrollo briefly cut the straps of your bralette, allowing the flimsy fabric to fall away, revealing your breasts to him.

Setting the knife aside, Chrollo dragged his nails down your chest, briefly squeezing your waist before leaning down to press open-mouthed kisses all over your neck. He trailed downwards, backing off the bed as he kissed your waist, your breasts, swirling his tongue around each of your nipples lightly before backing off entirely.

"Turn over," Chrollo demanded.

"No." You said timidly, propping yourself up on your elbows.

"I'm sorry?" Chrollo replied smugly, "Wanna repeat that, darling?"

"I said n-no," You said, now even quieter than before.

"No? You don't want to be punished?" He asked, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs teasingly.

You shook your head to confirm that you indeed did not want to be punished in the way he was thinking.

"Even after killing my guard and escaping? You sure you don't want to be punished?" He asked again, his condescending tone making you whimper as you shook your head again.

Chrollo sighed, "Very well."

What? He's serious?

Untying the bandana from his forehead, he was quick to grab your hands and tie them together, placing them above your head, "I'll please you since I know that's what you really want."

Your heart jumped in your chest, somehow excited at the fact that you had gotten out of it.

Chrollo wasted no time cutting your shorts off, leaving you completely naked and exposed to him. He brought your legs up to the edge of the bed, bending them close to your chest, "Stay like this for a moment, ok?"

You gave him brief 'mhm' before he left, crossing the room to his chest of drawers. You heard him open it, the soft sound of things being moved around before he quickly came back. Craning your neck up to see what had been retrieved, you were quickly thwarted by Chrollo who pushed your head back down.

"Patience," He sighed, "Be a good girl now, hm?"

You grumbled, but let him hold you down. You knew this routine all too well, reminiscing about the fond memories of your legs pulling against the rope he was now starting to tie around your ankles. He took the time to tie up each leg, making sure they would not be able to come out of the bent position he'd placed them in.

"So pretty," Chrollo cooed, rubbing his hands up and down your waist, "Alright darling, eyes closed."

You shut your eyes as he brought a blindfold to your eyes, the soft silk being tied around the back of your head.

"There, now that you can't fight me," He started, using brute force to flip you over so you were bent over the edge of the bed, knees on the bench, "We can begin your punishment."

"That's not fair Si-"

A sharp smack was delivered to your ass, "Hush."

You went quiet, whimpering into the plush comforter.

"You"

Smack.

"Broke"

Smack.

"My"

Smack.

"Rules"

Each word was punctuated by a harsh spanking to one of your ass cheeks. You were only four in and it already stung.

"I'm sorry!" You cried, trying to wriggle away from Chrollo, "Please Sir!"

"Mm, please what darling? Please punish you?" He hummed, rubbing your bottom with smooth circles.

"Nuh!" You whined, your voice becoming whinier under the threat of fully submitting.

"I told you I would please you, but only if you took your punishment like a good girl," Chrollo hummed, leaving a kiss on each cheek, "Do you really expect me to please you when you're not going to comply darling?"

You whined, wiggling a bit more.

"What do good girls say, darling?" Chrollo asked, softly rubbing your arched back.

"P-please," You huffed.

"Please what, love?" He replied, quietly undoing the bottle of lube he had brought to the bed.

"Please punish me," You whispered, "Sir."

"That's my good girl," He hummed.

Chrollo squirted a bit of lube onto his first two fingers, letting it warm a bit before bringing them to your ass. Mewling as Chrollo started rubbing your puckered hole, he wasted no time plunging a digit into your ass.

"Fuck!" You cried out, feeling him slipping in and out up to his first knuckle. You shook against the rope.

"Aww, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were starting to enjoy this." He teased, pushing his finger up to his second knuckle, "You're taking me so well, I can only imagine how well you're going to do later."

You gave him a long, drawn-out moan in response. He wanted you to beg, either for more or for him to stop, either way, he wanted you to be a mess.

The discomfort started to fade as he pushed his two fingers fully into you. Now, you could feel your arousal dripping as he steadily finger-fucked your ass, trying to stretch you out best he could with just two fingers.

"Already taking my fingers so well," Chrollo cooed, picking up the pace, "I think you're ready to be punished, don't you?"

You shook your head, knowing what would come next.

"Oh come now, don't be like that darling." He replied, slowly pulling his fingers from your tight hole.

You whined at the loss of contact, while it wasn't quite the pleasure you wanted, it was starting to feel good. You waited patiently as Chrollo left the bed, finding the necessary tools needed in his bedside drawer before coming back to the bench.

In one hand, he held a set of purple anal beads that gradually got bigger, in the other, a vibrating wand he fully intended on using on you. While the vibrator wasn't ever used during a punishment, Chrollo saw it to be a mercy for your honesty, therefore, he would keep his word, making his punishment at least somewhat pleasurable for you.

"Tonight's going to be a bit different, love," Chrollo started, setting the vibrator on the bench, he began covering the anal beads in a generous amount of lube, "I need you to trust me, ok?"

You didn't know what he meant by different, you assumed more painful, but knew that there would be no pleasure without pain, "I trust you."

"Good," He hummed, rubbing the first ball against your lubed hole, "You ready?"

Your faint 'mhm' had Chrollo pushing the first ball in, earning a whimper from you. It wasn't much bigger than Chrollo's finger, but you could still feel it. Mere seconds later, he was pushing the second ball in, the equivalent to a little more than two of his fingers.

You were quietly whimpering and mewling into the comforter, hoping he wouldn't hear how much you were enjoying the slow stretch.

"I need your hands," Chrollo announced, pulling you firmly upward by your shoulders, "Put them here."

He shoved your arms down toward your pussy before pushing you back down on your chest. Before, your hands had been resting on the comforter above your head. Now, they were firmly squished between your thighs. You felt Chrollo press something round into your hands before tying your wrists up. Mid-tie, he readjusted the foreign object to rest against your clit.

The vibrator.

You began to squirm a little bit, knowing that this is what he meant by tonight being a little different. You waited patiently as he tied the ropes tight, making sure you wouldn't be able to move it away, then he turned it on.

"Ah...oh fuck," You moaned, the vibrator already working to make you come undone, "Sir.."

Your moans were becoming more sultry, needier, you began panting as your legs worked up to a steady shake, he knew he would break you tonight at this rate.

"See? I told you I would please you," Chrollo hummed, pushing the next ball in, you cried out even louder, "You have permission to cum whenever you'd like."

Knowing this was going to make it a lot harder, he wanted you to submit, to break, "D..Da-Ah!"

You were stuttering as the next ball was pushed in, your asshole stretching around it.

"What was that? I don't think I heard you, princess," Chrollo teased.

"Daddy!" You wailed, giving into the submission he so desperately wanted. Your pussy began fluttering around nothing as the vibrator sent deep shock waves through your pussy, "Please!"

"Please what, princess?" He smiled, palming your ass cheeks.

"Please punish me!" You moaned, needing more stimulation, "I'm sorry I tried to escape! I've been a bad girl!"

The sight of you writhing under him was pathetic, you were truly becoming a mess and he hadn't even really touched you. Seeing how hard you were trembling, Chrollo took pity on you. Watching your pretty pussy clench and release, needing some form of stimulation, he decided to at least grant you this mercy.

Plunging two fingers into your dripping hole, he crooked his fingers, quickly finding your g-spot, "Is this what my darling needs?"

"Yes! Oh, fu-fuck please daddy!" You moaned, fucking yourself on his fingers, "Gonna cum!"

"You have permission princess, it's ok," Chrollo reaffirmed, working his fingers inside you.

It only took seconds, the knot that had been building inside you finally burst, causing you to clench around his fingers. The vibrator held firm against your clit after, the pleasure becoming painful. You started to cry through the blindfold.

Chrollo licked the mess off his fingers before slowly starting to pull the anal beads out one by one. You whined and whimpered as he did so, the action only causing you to clench to avoid feeling empty. It did nothing, Chrollo continued to pull the remaining few beads out, your asshole gaping slightly

"Mm, you're doing so well baby," Chrollo sighed, pulling his own pants down. Pumping his cock a few times before rubbing the crown of it up and down your slick.

"Daddy! D-Don't do that!" You whined, trying to pull away from his ministrations.

"What? This?" Chrollo asked innocently, repeating the action.

You lost it, cumming on the spot as the tip ghosted over your pussy, your shame covered your face in a heavy blush. It barely took anything for you to cum with the stupid vibrator continuing to buzz against your clit at the highest setting.

"S-Sorry daddy.." you slurred, still trembling as you felt your mind go blank.

"Aww, is my baby that much of a cock drunk little slut?" Chrollo teased, pressing the tip of his painfully erect cock into your ass, "I know you are, my pretty little darling wanted to be punished this whole time, huh?"

You heard him, but could barely form enough of a sentence to answer.

Chrollo pushed into you slowly, relishing in the tightness of your ass, your gummy walls fluttering around him as you were overstimulated. The feeling of being full had your tongue lolling out of your mouth.

Once fully seated inside you, Chrollo slowly dragged his nails along your back before palming your ass. Pulling your ass cheeks apart with his thumbs, he gave a few long, slow thrusts, watching the way you clenched around his cock.

"Fuck," Chrollo moaned, "I almost don't even want to punish you with the way this tight little ass wraps around my cock."

You could only moan in response, trembling as he continued his tortuously slow pace.

"How many spankings do you think you'll receive from tonight's actions, princess?" Chrollo halted, only halfway inside as his hands trailed upwards along your outer thighs, "I think forty is a good number? What say you, love?"

"Nuh-uh!" You cried, wiggling against his touch as one of his hands left your skin, "Thirty!"

Chrollo chuckled at your offer, "I was originally going to settle for twenty-five, but thirty works for me, darling."

With a crushing force, Chrollo's hand came down.

Smack!

"Count, or I'll start over," Chrollo demanded.

"O-One," You whispered.

His other hand rose while the other soothed the spot he had just spanked.

Smack!

"Two!"

Smack!

"Three," Chrollo's hands were relentless, switching cheeks each time he smacked you in order to give your poor skin a break. He was merciful enough to rub the spot he had spanked before doing it again.

It took minutes to work your way up to the end, you came twice throughout the process as the vibrator held firm against your clit.

Smack!

"Twenty-eight!"

Smack!

"Twenty-nine!"

Smack!

"Th-Thirty!" You were sobbing, shaking uncontrollably under the weight of Chrollo's punishment.

"There we go, all done," Chrollo cooed, softly rubbing your cherry-red ass as he set another slow pace, "You did so well for me, darling."

A warmth grew in your chest, you really did enjoy being praised by Chrollo, even if it was after a punishment with his dick in your ass. He enjoyed it too, loving the way you clenched around his cock each time he spanked you, it took a lot of focus to not cum mid punishment.

You were writhing the pressure in your core already starting to build again, your trembling never stopped, even throughout your punishment. Chrollo kept up his word to please you, but god at what cost?

"I want you to cum for me again, angel," Chrollo hummed, his hands finding your waist as he began picking up the pace, "I want to absolutely ruin you."

"No no no! Daddy, I can't!" You sobbed, knowing you would be doing more than just cumming if this kept up.

"Oh? Is my princess trying to hide the pretty mess I know she can make?" Chrollo asked, knowing what you were implying.

Grabbing the knife, he cut the ropes from your legs. He rolled your limp form over onto your back, yanking the blindfold off so he could watch as you helped overstimulate yourself. With one arm by your head to support himself, he guided his cock back into your ass, resuming the brutal pace he set.

You held Chrollo's gaze as he went absolutely feral, drilling your ass while holding one of your legs up over his shoulder. You could barely conceal your tears at this point, broken moans showing him just how bad you needed a break, but he was intent on making you squirt before he stopped.

"I know you need this," Chrollo purred, pressing his forehead to yours, "Just give in to my love, your body wants this."

You started to shake harder, legs trembling even more aggressively, he was pushing you to the edge.

"Fuck! Da...Daddy," You groaned, knowing you were only seconds away, "Kiss me, p-please."

Pulling you into his lips as you came, your screams and cries muffled against Chrollo's lips as you drenched his cock and thighs with your cum. You barely registered the feeling of his cock throbbing as he filled your ass with cum. It took several seconds for your orgasm to stop before you were finally able to collapse back onto the bed.

Chrollo was quick to shut the vibrator off as he pulled out, knowing your body had enough. He admired the way his cum began slowly trickling out of your ass while he untied your hands.

"You did so well, darling," Chrollo praised, leaving soft kisses on the inside of your calf, "So so good."

His kisses trailed upwards, his lips softly tickling your thighs as he caressed them. He continued upward with his continued praise and love, making sure each part of you had received some form of physical attention before kissing you passionately.

You were still panting, your heart thrumming in your ears as he brushed your hair away from your face. At least he held true to his word.

With your hands now free, you pulled him in for another kiss, wanting to stay enveloped in his warmth forever.

"So, my little brat," He started, interlacing his fingers with yours, "Was this enough of a cure for your boredom?"

You giggled, giving him a weak smile, "It was, but as I recall, you mentioned what sounded like a more long-term solution to this problem."

"Ah, that," Chrollo sighed, rolling over next to you. You turned on your side the best you could as he gazed up at the ceiling, "I was thinking you could officially become a spider."

Your breath hitched in your throat, "You mean like part of the phantom-troupe?"

"Yes," He replied curtly, "You'd be with me all day every day, same rules apply, but it would give you a chance to use that intelligence of yours."

You grinned, thinking it over, "Sure, why not?"

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