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joelsgreys · 6 months

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a safe haven l nine

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter

summary: When you find out that you’re pregnant, everything comes crumbling down around you.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A SCENE THAT HEAVILY IMPLIES DOMESTIC VIOLENCE. this chapter it also contains a very uncomfortable scene with reader and Luke, but despite the sexual nature of the scene, READER DOES NOT GET SA, BUT SHE DOES GET INJURED. INJURY there is a description of an injury as the result of DV HEAVILY IMPLYING STRANGULATION. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. pregnancy, mentions of high risk pregnancy (not reader), mentions of child loss (not reader), mentions of pregnancy related symptoms (missed menstrual cycle, morning sickness), protective Tommy Miller, protective Joel, and last but certainly not least, feral Joel. this chapter is a lot, just proceed with caution if anything in bold can be a potential trigger for you.

word count: 11.8k

October, 2024

It’s the middle of October.

By now, the pain had become almost unbearable. Time certainly wasn’t healing the wound.

If anything, time only seemed to be making it worse.

So, so much fucking worse.

It drags, and you almost feel as if you’re paralyzed by it. But the only thing that you can do about it, about any of this, is just pretend.

Pretend everything is okay.

Pretend it doesn’t hurt.

Pretend you don’t feel empty.

Pretend you don’t need him.

But you do need him. Oh, how you fucking need him.

The hole in your heart is growing bigger by the day, and only Joel Miller is capable of filling the void. Only he has the ability to make you feel whole again. Complete.

“Be honest with me—what does this look like?”

You pause your knitting and glance over at Maria.

With her due date approaching, you had offered to help her prepare for the baby’s arrival. At about six months, Maria was expected to give birth towards the middle of winter season, and instead of trading or having to use rations for certain baby items, like blankets, little socks and mittens, you’d decided to show her how to make them instead. Not only was it saving her from having to trade or use her rations on things that could easily be knitted, but it served as a decent, albeit temporary, distraction, giving your mind the chance to focus on something else other than how deeply you were hurting without Joel.

Tilting your head slightly, you eye the soft, butter yellow wool she’s holding in her hands. “Um, is that the start of another baby blanket?”

“No.” Maria’s face falls. “It’s supposed to be a hat.”

“Oh. Um.” You lean forward in the brown leather armchair you’re perched on, squinting hard at it as she holds it up. “Okay, yeah, I can kind of see the shape of it now. I can totally see it being a little hat for the baby.” She tosses you a knowing smile and you squirm slightly, heat prickling at your ears.

“I appreciate you lying to me.” She giggles and sets down her knitting needles beside her on the couch along with the ball of wool yarn. Leaning back, she places both hands on her belly and sighs. “At the very least this child will never go without a blanket seeing as blankets are all I’m capable of making.”

You flash her a small, but reassuring smile.

“You’ll get the hang of it, Maria, I promise. It just takes some practice, that’s all.”

“Well, now that Luke has put me on strict bed rest until I have the baby, I’m going to have all the time in the world to practice,” Maria remarks, exhaling another sigh. Craning her neck, she peers at your own knitting project, which you’ve been working on in something of a secretive manner in your lap and out of the expectant mother’s view. “What are you making over there, anyway?”

Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

“I’m so glad you asked since I’m just about done.”

Crossing the last stitch, you set aside your knitting needles and then hold up the finished product. “What do you think of these?”

Maria’s hand flies to her mouth, tears welling up in her dark eyes the moment she sees the pair of little brown baby booties in your hands. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, a tear rolling down the side of her face as you stand up and walk across her living room to present her with the shoes. Sitting down beside her, you hold them out in the palms of your hands. With trembling fingers, she accepts them. “Kevin had a pair just like these when he was a newborn. I kept them even after he’d outgrown them.” She lets out a small laugh in spite of herself. “You know, I’d always complain that he was growing up too fast. I used to wish that I could slow time down a little so I could enjoy my son being that young longer,” she admits, sniffing. She reaches up, dabbing at her damp eyes with one of her hands. “And now Kevin is frozen in time, forever a three year old little boy.”

She sets the booties down on her belly and inhales deeply, willing herself to keep her composure.

Swallowing back your own emotions, you brush a single, stray tear from her cheek with your thumb. It wasn’t the first time that she’d opened up about losing her child—but Maria often kept her emotions hidden, tucked away along with her son’s memory. For the last several years, she’d dedicated most of her time and energy to Jackson and to its people, pouring herself completely into her role as the community’s leader. But now that Luke had placed her on strict bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy, Maria had no choice but to step down, temporarily handing the role over to Tommy, along with a small council she’d handpicked herself.

It hadn’t been easy for her, after all, there was only so much she could do to keep herself preoccupied while being confined to the four walls of her home. She found her mind wandering to Kevin a lot more often than not lately, and the pregnancy hormones did absolutely nothing to help in the matter.

“Maria?” you say her name softly. “You okay?”

She slowly exhales the breath she’d been holding.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she finally replies, sniffing again.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She pauses momentarily. “I just—there’s a part of me that still has trouble believing I’m going to be a mother again. It’s been so long, you know? What if I’ve forgotten how to be a good mom?”

Dropping your hand from Maria’s face, you offer it out for her to hold. She accepts it and you give her hand a gentle squeeze as you vouch, “This baby, they couldn’t be any luckier than to have a mother like you, Maria.”

“And a fuckin’ hell of a dad like me,” a voice teases from the doorway.

Tommy, who had been down at the commune’s market picking up some potatoes for dinner, saunters into the living room with a brown paper bag in his arm. Setting the bag down onto a nearby table, he then makes his way over to his wife. Noticing that she’d been crying, he leans over and presses his lips against her forehead, softly murmuring, “You doin’ alright, sweetheart?”

“I’m alright,” she assures him with a nod. “I’m just extra sensitive and hormonal right now. The usual.”

He hums. “Uh, yeah, I kinda figured that out when you bawled your way through Old Yeller at the movies the other night.”

She pouts. “Pregnant or not, that movie’s a tear jerker, okay? Only people made of stone don’t cry when the dog dies.”

“She’s got a point, Tommy,” you agree with a shrug. “I cried too, and I’m not pregnant.”

Drawing himself back up to his full height, Tommy glances at the booties resting on Maria’s belly. He picks them up and holds them both in the palm of his hand.

“Well, ain’t these just the teeniest things I ever did see,” he remarks with a soft chuckle. “Who made these?”

Maria jerks her chin towards you. “She did.”

Tommy’s eyes meet yours and it feels like a punch to the fucking gut—they remind you of his brother. “Almost feels like a crime, havin’ you make clothes for our kid for free,” he states, shaking his head as he hands them back to Maria. “You’re makin’ the baby’s entire wardrobe at this point, little lady.”

Sheepishly, you wave a dismissive hand at him. “I made one sweater and a couple pairs of mittens for them. I wouldn’t exactly call that a wardrobe, Tommy.”

“It’s a hell of a lot more stuff than we had before. I gotta be honest, it just don’t feel right acceptin’ all these things from you without payin’ somehow. I’d really like to at least trade you somethin’ for them.”

Shaking your head, you politely decline the offer.

“I appreciate it, but I really don’t need anything.”

“What ‘bout Luke?”

“He doesn’t either.”

“But—”

“Honey, don’t waste your breath,” Maria chimes in with a sigh. “I’ve been trying to get her to accept a trade all week long and she simply won’t budge.”

Tommy purses his lips together, slowly rubbing his chin in thought. “Okay, I’ve got an idea,” he proposes after a minute. “How ‘bout you and Luke both come on over and join us for dinner later tonight? That ain’t too bad of a deal, right?”

You silently mull over the offer for a second.

“If I accept the invitation, then will you two knock it off with all this damn trade nonsense?” When he eagerly nods, you sigh. “Alright then, I accept. We’ll come over for dinner tonight. Granted he doesn’t come home late from the clinic again.”

“Perfect,” he grins. “See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

Knowing he only means well, you decide to be a good sport about it and smile at him. “No, Tommy. I suppose it wasn’t.”

“Great!” Maria beams. “We haven’t had a chance to get together for dinner in months. Lately when I see Luke, it’s as his patient,” she muses. “I have to admit, it’ll be so nice to have a conversation with him that doesn’t revolve around my uterus for once.”

Tommy jokingly makes a face. “Yeah. Tell the doc to leave all that medical stuff at the door before he comes over. Last thing I wanna hear ‘bout while I’m chowin’ down on some big, juicy bison steaks is what fuckin’ size my wife’s uterus is—”

“Tommy! That’s not funny!” Rolling her eyes at her husband, Maria turns to you to apologize but she stops short when she notices a sudden, not to mention drastic, change in your complexion. Frowning, she reaches up and touches your cheek. “Hey, you don’t look so good. Are you feeling alright?”

You can taste the bile at the back of your throat.

“I—I’m sorry, what did you just say was for dinner?”

Tommy shoots you a strange look. “Uh, steaks?”

The mere mention of the word sends a violent wave of sickness crashing over you—slapping your hand tightly over your mouth, you scramble to jump off the couch and make a beeline for their downstairs bathroom right across the hallway. You’d made it just in time to fall to your knees in front of the toilet. Clutching the sides of the porcelain bowl, you gag loudly, and the sickening sound of your retching bounces off the walls.

As your stomach heaves, you feel one hand gather your hair to hold it back and out of your face, while the other rubs soothing circles into your back.

“Let it all out,” Maria encourages you. “It’s alright, just let it all out. There you go, get everything out.”

Tommy pokes his head into the bathroom.

“She okay?”

“Tommy! Get out of here!” Maria scolds him over her shoulder. “She doesn’t need an audience!”

He holds up his hands. “Alright, alright! Sheesh, I was just makin’ sure she’s okay, you ain’t gotta bite my head off!” He huffs at her. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you two need me.” Without another word, he spins around on the heel of his boot and disappears.

Once you’re certain there’s nothing left, your trembling hand reaches for the handle on the tank and pulls it down, flushing the toilet. You then sit back, slumping against the wall. “Jesus. I am so fucking sorry. I have no idea what the hell came over me,” you groan, the embarrassment evident in your tone as you wipe at your mouth with the sleeve of your flannel shirt.

Maria peers at you with a suspicious glint in her eyes.

“You know,” she says, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, “About five months ago, I went through a phase where I couldn’t stand the thought of meat—any kind, but red meat had to be the worst. I just could not stomach it.” Her hand falls away from your face and she rises to her feet with a labored grunt. Leaning back against the sink, she continues to say, “Poor Tommy, he couldn’t even mention it to me or I’d throw up on his boots. Not long after that, I found out I was pregnant.”

You stare at her, your lips parting slightly. “Maria, you can’t seriously be insinuating—I am not pregnant. No, it’s not possible, you know that I can’t have kids,” you sputter out, furiously shaking your head. “There’s just no fucking way that I’m—”

Maria holds up her hands to stop you. “When was the date of your last menstrual cycle?”

“It was recent.”

“How recent?”

Silently, you start counting the weeks and you freeze the moment you realize you’d missed September completely, and October’s cycle had been due two weeks ago. You’ve been so lost in your own grief, so busy trying to keep yourself from falling apart, that you hadn’t even realized you haven’t bled since—

“August,” you breathe out in a terrified whisper.

The last time you had your period was in August.

August.

Before you had slept with Joel Miller for the first time.

Maria whirls around and starts digging in the medicine cabinet above the sink, and then in the one below it. After a minute of rummaging, she turns back around and extends a hand out to you, offering to help you to your feet. She lets out another grunt as she helps you stand. “I had one left,” she states, holding out her other hand to you, an individually wrapped pregnancy test in her palm. “At this point, I don’t think you even need to take a test, but it doesn’t hurt to have solid proof.”

You can hardly choke out her name. “Maria—”

She hastily shoves the test into your hands. “Just take it. I’ll be back in to check on you, okay?”

Not giving you the chance to protest, she steps out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

You look down at the test in your palm and then up into the mirror, meeting your own wide eyes in the reflection.

It can’t be possible. It just can’t be possible.

You can’t have children.

With shaking hands, you unzip your blue jeans and then tear open the package. Your mind is in such a haze, you have to read the instructions three or four times before the information finally sticks. After taking the test, you lay it down top of the counter with the results window facing down. You pull your panties and jeans back into place and wash your hands using the bar of soap next to the sink—all the while, the sheer panic has started to settle in, the fear that accompanies it seeping deep into your bones.

Swallowing harshly, you realize it’d been well over the three minutes the package had instructed you to wait for the results.

“It’s negative. It’s negative,” you affirm quietly over and over underneath your breath as you pick it up and flip it in your hand. “It’s negative. It’s negative—”

You stop, and for a second, your heart feels like it stops too.

Horrified, you blink furiously, as if somehow you’ve misread the results—but there is no fucking mistaking those two solid little pink lines.

Your blood runs cold in your veins.

You’re pregnant.

Luke hasn’t touched you in months.

And you’re pregnant.

Luke hasn’t touched you in months.

And you are fucking pregnant.

Maria knocks lightly on the bathroom door.

“It’s been a few minutes now—can I come in?”

She waits, only to be met with complete silence.

“Hey, hon.” She knocks again. “Is everything okay?”

Again, there’s no response from the other side of the door.

“Christ, Maria.” Tommy suddenly appears beside her with a glass of water in his hand. Flashing his wife a teasing look, he quips, “Can’t you let the poor girl do her goddamn business in peace? What’s wrong with you, woman?”

Maria frowns. “I think something’s wrong.”

His playful grin falters. “What do you mean?”

“She’s not answering me.”

Tommy chortles, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Maybe ‘cause she’s actually in there doin’ her business?”

Hesitantly, Maria bites down on her bottom lip.

“What? What is it?”

“I gave her a pregnancy test to take.”

Tommy’s eyes widen. “You fuckin’ with me?”

Maria glares at him. “No! I’m not fucking with you, I’m being serious! I gave her the test and then told her I would check back in with her after she took it, but now she’s not answering me and I’m kind of worried.”

“The door locked?”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think it is. Should we just open the door and see if she’s okay? I don’t want to barge in there but—”

Tommy hands Maria the glass of water. “Hey,” he calls lightly as he raps on the door with his fist. “Everythin’ alright in there?” He waits for a minute, but when you don’t reply, he grasps the brass doorknob in his hand and says sternly, “Now you listen here, little lady. You had best answer me right now, or we’re gonna have to come in, you understand me?”

Silence.

“Last chance, talk or I’m gonna open this door.”

Nothing.

“Alright then, suit yourself. Hope you’re decent.”

Tommy turns the knob, cracking the door open—when he doesn’t see you, he tries pushing it open further. The door stops halfway, and he peers around it only to find you sitting on the floor with your back against the wall, preventing the door from going any further. “Shit, she’s sittin’ right behind the goddamn—fuckin’ hold on, Maria! If I try shovin’ it open, I could hurt her!” Being careful so as not to hit you or step on you by accident, he squeezes his way into the bathroom. He crouches down beside you, cupping your cheek in the palm of his hand. “Hey, what is it? What’s the matter?”

Your eyes flicker up to meet his.

You can’t speak. You can’t move.

All that you can do is stare at him. Petrified.

“C’mon, little lady,” he coaxes, softly. “Talk to me.”

“Tommy! Let me in!” Maria demands, impatiently. “Can you move her? I can’t squeeze through, my belly is way too big.”

Tommy slides one arm around your shoulders and the other arm under your knees. “I’m just gonna move you out the way so Maria can come in, alright? C’mere.” He gingerly slides you across the tile and cradles the side of your body against his chest. He then calls out to his wife, “There, that should be enough room!”

Maria pushes the door open and rushes inside. “Is she okay?” Gripping Tommy’s shoulder, she slowly lowers herself to kneel beside you. Her eyes go straight to the test clutched in your hand. She just about has to pry your ice cold fingers off the white stick one by one. “It’s positive,” she gasps. “Your results are positive—you’re going to have a baby!”

Tommy lets out a loud, gleeful laugh. “Did’ya hear that, little lady? You’re gonna have a baby! You’re gonna be a mama! Ain’t that great news?”

Finally, you snap out of your trance. Your eyes anxiously bounce between Tommy and Maria, heart pounding as they eagerly wait for your reaction with smiles of pure excitement on their faces.

“I—” Unable to utter another word, you burst into tears.

And they’re certainly not tears of happiness.

No, the sobs coming from deep within you aren’t full of joy at the news that you’re going to be a mother.

They’re pained. Cries full of sorrow, anguish, and fear. As the confusion flashes across their faces, all you can do is weep harder, and louder.

“Wait a minute, I thought you would be happy.” Maria’s hands reach for yours and she holds them tightly as she tries to understand what it is that is causing such a negative reaction. “You and Luke tried for a really long time to have another baby. Why are you so upset?” She keeps her voice calm, kind. Warm. It wasn’t that she was judging you—Maria wants to help you, however there’s no way for her to help you if she doesn’t know what’s causing your grief in the first place. “What’s the matter, honey? Are you afraid after what happened last time?”

“I can’t be pregnant,” you rasp out. “I can’t—”

“Hey now, it’s alright. C’mere.” Tommy shifts and he moves to sit down beside you against the wall. His arm drapes around your trembling shoulders in an effort to comfort you. As your entire body shudders with sobs, he pulls you close against his side, rubbing your arm with his hand. Once they’ve subsided and little hiccups are all that are left, he finally speaks again. “You can talk to us, little lady. ‘Bout anythin’ that’s on your mind. We care ‘bout you a whole lot. Y’know that, don’t you?”

“Tommy’s right,” Maria nods. “You’re like family to us. You can come to us about anything. We’ll do whatever we can to help you, okay?”

You shake your head tightly. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

She lets out a small sigh and glances at her husband with a look of defeat. “I think you should run down to the clinic and get Luke. He’ll know what to do to calm her down.”

“No!” you shout loudly, startling them both. “I—Luke can’t find out that I’m pregnant. He just can’t know, or else—” A fresh batch of tears spring forward as you clamp a hand over your mouth, muffling another wail.

“Or else what?” Maria asks, raising an eyebrow.

Or else he was going to fucking kill you.

Tommy grabs your wrist, gently tugging it away from your face. “Or else what?” He echoes his wife. “What is goin’ on? Is there somethin’ we should know ‘bout?”

Yet another sob escapes you and his fingers curl tighter around your wrist, firmly, but he’s careful not to be too harsh.

“We’re gonna need you to tell us what’s goin’ on.”

There’s no way around it. Around any of it.

You have to tell them.

Swallowing harshly, you admit, “There is.”

The couple waits expectantly.

“The baby isn’t Luke’s.” You mumble it so quietly and incoherently that neither of them hear it despite being in such close proximity.

Maria furrows an eyebrow. “What did you say?”

“The baby isn’t Luke’s!” You cry out, yanking your wrist out of Tommy’s hand. “This baby isn’t his and that’s why he can’t fucking know!”

And just like that, the truth comes tumbling out.

Luke’s violence towards you.

Your romantic affair with Joel.

Ellie discovering the abuse and telling him about it.

Your stubborn refusal to let either of them do anything to help you.

You spare no details of everything that had taken place over the last several months, and by the time you had finally finished, both Tommy and Maria were rendered completely speechless.

“Can one of you say something? Please? Anything at all?” Your voice is small, feeble.

After a minute, Tommy pulls his arm from around your shoulders and stands up. He helps Maria up to her feet before he extends his hand to you. “Alright, first thing’s first. Let me get you up off this floor, little lady.”

His voice is soft, and so is his gaze.

“Tommy how can you—after everything that I’ve done? Your brother—”

“Please. Just let me help you off the floor and then we can talk ‘bout it. Okay?”

You accept his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Much to your surprise, he doesn’t let it go as he leads you out of the bathroom and back into the living room where he sits you down on the couch. Maria, who hasn’t said a single word, takes a seat beside you.

Tommy kneels down in front of you, placing a warm and gentle hand on your leg. He almost looks a little bit guilty, as if he should have known what was being done to you behind closed doors. “Look, m’gonna ask you a question and I need an honest answer. How long has he been doin’ this to you?”

Anxiously, you start wringing your hands in your lap.

“Tommy, I can’t. Please, don’t—”

“Tell me,” he encourages you, softly. “When did it first start?”

Your throat bobs. “Two months after my dad died,” you confess, another tear rolling down the side of your face.

Maria stiffens. “Luke has been putting his hands on you for two years?”

“Yes.”

You can hear the shame in your own voice—shame for letting the abuse go on as long as it has, for everything to come to light like this.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Tommy sighs heavily and hangs his head. “Joel told me. He fuckin’ told me.”

You wipe at your swollen eyes with your forearm.

“What are you talking about, Tommy?”

He sighs again.

“Months ago, the day after the big summer party,” he begins to explain. “We were at the bar. Joel was askin’ me ‘bout you and Luke. Said somethin’ just wasn’t right when he saw you two together for the first time. He tried to tell me somethin’ was wrong and I—I didn’t fuckin’ believe him. Told him he was seein’ what he wanted to see ‘cause I knew he liked you. I fuckin’ told him that you and Luke were happy. He tried to tell me and I didn’t fuckin’ listen to him.”

“Tommy, please don’t blame yourself for this,” you beg him. “I’m the one who chose to hide it. This is my own fault, okay? This is all on me, not on you.”

Maria furiously shakes her head. “It’s not your fault and it sure as hell isn’t on you. You’re the victim here.”

Victim.

The word makes you cringe.

“But it is my fault, Maria. I hid it from you guys for two fucking years.”

“But why? Why did you hide it? Why didn’t you come to us?” Tommy’s voice is strained. “You should’ve told us what he was doin’ to you. We—I could’a done somethin’ to stop it. I could’a helped you.”

“Because. I didn’t want to risk getting him thrown out of the community. Jackson needs him, Tommy.”

“Like hell we do,” Tommy rises to his feet. “Ain’t no way that we’re gonna tolerate that fuckin’ shit here.” With his hands curled tightly into fists, he spins around and starts heading towards the front door.

You stand and chase after him, catching him just as he opens it. “Where the hell are you going?”

“To confront that pathetic son of a bitch—”

“Tommy, please! Don’t do that.” Grabbing his arm, you shoot him a pleading look. “Please, think about this for a minute.”

“Ain’t nothin’ for me to fuckin’ think ‘bout, alright?”

“Yes, there fucking is! This town needs a doctor. They need Luke—Maria needs Luke.” You glance over at her just as she appears in the hallway with both hands on her belly. “God forbid that something goes wrong—she goes into preterm labor or she has a complication when she gives birth. Did you think about that?”

“We’ve got two nurses,” he reminds you.

“Two nurses who only know basic neonatal care. That’s it. If something serious happens, Maria’s going to need Luke. And the baby’s going to need him too.”

You knew you’d gotten your point across when Tommy turns to his wife, helplessly.

“Fuck,” he curses, slamming the door shut. “She’s right. I fuckin’ hate to say it, but she’s right ‘bout that.”

“I am right,” you state and his attention flits back to you. “Luke has to stay and you both know that as well as I do. For the good of Jackson, he has to stay.”

Conflicted, Tommy growls out in frustration. “So what, I’m just s’pposed to give him a fuckin’ pass? How the hell can you expect us—how can you expect me to let that motherfucker walk around this place knowin’ what he’s been doin’ to you over these last two years?”

Your fingers dig into his arm, a fresh batch of hot tears stinging your eyes. “Tommy, if this community suffers without Luke because of me, it will destroy me. The guilt will fucking destroy me.”

Finally, Maria decides to step in. “Listen, I know that you’re trying to look out for the people of this town and I get that. But you’re risking your own life by asking us to let him stay here.” She walks over to you, taking your hands in hers. “Honey, I know men like Luke because I used to prosecute men like Luke. I would take them to court on murder charges.” Her eyes find yours. “I don’t want to scare you, but if that is the only way for me to get through to you, then I will sit you down and I will tell you all about what happened to the women who swore to me their abusive husbands would never, ever take it that far.”

You swallow harshly and a chill runs up your spine.

“I’ll leave,” you squeak. “I’ll leave him.”

“And what if he doesn’t let you walk away?”

Tommy crosses his arms over his chest. “He will if I’m the one who fuckin’ talks to him. I ain’t gonna give him the choice. He has to let her go.”

Panicked, you furiously shake your head. “No! I can do this on my own, Tommy. I can handle him alone. I don’t need you to do it for me. I can fix this without your help, okay?”

“You can’t,” he says, firmly. “You just can’t.”

“Yes, I can—”

He cuts you off with a pleading look.

“You need to let us help you. Please. Let us help you.”

You had agreed to it, but only on one condition.

“I need a couple of days,” you’d told them.

Tommy frowned. “No. It’s happenin’ tonight. We’re gonna talk to Luke, you’re gonna pack up a couple bags, and we’re gettin’ you away from him. You can stay here with us for a while. You’ll be safe.” Taking notice of the shocked look on your face, he said, “I know you ain’t crazy enough to think I’m gonna let you go home to him tonight. Ain’t no way in hell.”

“I—this is all happening so fast. It’s too overwhelming, Tommy. I just need a day or two to process everything before I take that leap.”

“And give Luke the fuckin’ chance to hurt you again?”

“He hasn’t laid a finger on me in weeks now.”

Tommy scoffed, “Well, someone give him a fuckin’ medal!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “He hasn’t hit his wife in weeks! What a fuckin’ guy!”

You recoiled, his sarcasm stinging like he’d poured salt straight into the open wound.

“Tommy,” Maria glared at him. “Not helping.”

He immediately shot you an apologetic look.

“Shit. Sorry, little lady. I’m just real worried ‘bout you. I don’t like the idea of you goin’ home to him tonight, and much less knowin’ that you’re pregnant, y’know?” His eyes had fallen to your stomach with sudden curiosity. “When, uh—when do you plan on tellin’ Joel ‘bout the baby, anyway?”

Heat flooded your face and neck.

“I—I’m not really sure about that yet.”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy! She just told you that she’s feeling overwhelmed,” Maria chastised him. “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay? Our first priority is going to be to get her out of that house. She has already agreed to letting us help her, so I think there’s a bit of room for compromise. Here’s the deal.” She put a hand on your shoulder. “As much as I don’t want to let you go home to him tonight either, I’m going to allow it so you can take a breather. Tomorrow in the afternoon when you get home from work duty, I’ll come over and help you pack some clothes and necessities, and we can bring them over here to our place.”

Nervously chewing your lower lip, you asked, “And then what?”

“I’ll go confront Luke,” Tommy stated. “Best if you ain’t there when I talk to him, little lady.” He turned to Maria, placing a hand on her belly. “I don’t want you to be there either, sweetheart. I ain’t takin’ any chances and puttin’ you and the baby under stress so I’m gonna have to handle him alone, alright?”

Maria nodded, shifting her attention back to you. “So? Do we have a deal?”

Meekly, you had nodded in agreement. “Yes. We have a deal.”

The rest of that evening passes by in a blur.

Autopilot had taken over the moment that Tommy took you across the road and dropped you off at your door.

“Any problems, you come get me,” he’d said. “You come and get me. No matter what time it is, alright? You fuckin’ come and get me if he tries anythin’.”

All that you could do was give him a weak nod and then you’d turned around, slipping into the house.

You don’t remember cooking dinner.

You don’t remember looking at the clock, noticing it was well past dinnertime and realizing that Luke would be home late as usual. You don’t remember fixing him a plate and leaving it on top of the stove for him to find when he came home, storing all of the leftovers, and washing the small pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

You don’t remember heading upstairs afterwards, you don't remember taking a long shower, brushing your teeth or changing into your pajamas.

It wasn’t until hours later, when the bedroom door opened and Luke walked in, that autopilot finally disengaged.

“You’re still up?”

You’d been sitting on the foot of the bed anxiously picking at your fingernails without even realizing it until he glared at you—he’d always hated the habit and spent months smacking it out of you.

Ceasing from messing with your hands, you drop them into your lap.

“You’re home really late again,” you say, quietly.

“I made a last minute house call. John’s little boy came down with a hell of a fever tonight.” Luke sets down his satchel bag and shrugs out of his jacket—as he does so, you catch sight of the tiny, reddish purple bruise on his neck, right below his ear. Draping his jacket over a nearby chair, he arches his brow as if he were silently challenging you to confront him, as if he’s daring you to ask him who had given him a love bite.

You don’t care. You don’t care about what or who Luke has been doing over the last several nights when he’s been coming home so much later than usual.

Kicking off his black boots, he saunters over to you, his mouth stretching into a cruel, satisfied little smirk.

Oh, he knows damn well you’ve already figured it out.

He wanted you to figure it out.

“Spend the afternoon at Tommy and Maria’s again?”

“Yes. I did.”

“I see.” He hums. “She was telling me during her exam this morning at the clinic that you’ve been helping her knit some clothes for the baby. Is that so?”

“I have,” you murmur, looking down to avert his curious gaze as he stops in front of you. “We’ve been making blankets for the baby, too.”

Luke cups your chin, forcing your eyes back up to meet his. “Well, isn’t that sweet of you.” He roughly curls his fingers around your jaw, his thumb brushing along your quivering lower lip. He hums again. “Something about you seems different, darling. Been looking a lot prettier to me these days.” He lets go of your jaw and brushes your hair behind your shoulder, his finger skimming the strap of your cotton pajama top. “How long has it been now, sweetheart?”

Your throat goes dry, your lips parting in shock as Luke pulls it down your arm, his palm grazing over your skin.

No. This can’t be happening. He wants to—?

Without waiting for a response, Luke grabs one of your hands and places it over his belt buckle.

Noticing your expression, he laughs again. “Why do you look so surprised?”

“You—you haven’t wanted to touch me in months.”

Luke shrugs. “Well, what can I say? I’m suddenly in the mood for my pretty little wife’s cunt.” His grin stretches from ear to ear. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky this time. Maybe we’ll have a little one of our own running around this place. I’m feeling rather optimistic tonight.”

You’re going to be fucking sick all over him.

No, you can’t let him do this to you.

You can’t let him touch you.

He pushes your hand lower, right over his bulge.

“No!” Tearing your hand away, you jump up and roughly shove him away from you. “Don’t you fucking touch me!”

He stumbles backwards, but he catches himself before he can fall.

Your chest heaves a d he stares at you, bewildered at what you had just done. “I’m so sorry that whoever you fucked before you came home wasn’t enough for you, but you are not fucking touching me,” you spit at him. “In fact, you’re never touching me ever again because I’m leaving. I’m done, Luke.”

“Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me.” Your voice trembles—you can’t be sure if it trembles out of anger or out of the sheer terror you feel. Maybe it’s a bit of both. “It’s over, Luke. This marriage is fucking over. I’m not putting up with what you’ve been doing to me for the past two years. I’m not going to tolerate it. Not anymore. I’m not going to allow you to keep on hurting me.” Lifting your hand, you slide your wedding band off of your finger and toss it at him. It clinks as it lands on the hardwood floor near his feet. “I’ll be out of the house by tomorrow evening.”

“Let me take a guess.” He speaks calmly, much too calmly, as he starts towards you. The time bomb has started ticking. “You’re going to move in with Joel Miller and his feral little rat of a kid?”

Hands curling into fists at your sides, you seethe, “Where I move is none of your fucking business, Luke.” He steps closer and your courage starts to falter. You can feel yourself wanting to back down—the thought of your unborn child is the only thing that keeps you from completely losing your nerve. “Here is the deal. You’re going to let me leave and you’re going to stay the fuck away from me. If you do that, then I won’t tell anyone anything about the things you’ve done to me. It’ll be like none of it ever happened. We both move on with our lives. Separately. Got it?”

He draws closer and closer. Much too close.

“Oh, you silly, silly girl,” he tsks. “Do you really think you can call the shots? Do you really fucking think you have the upper hand here? That you can make the decision to end this marriage, just like that?”

Closer, until his chest brushes against yours.

“Luke, I’m giving you a fucking chance here,” you say, backing away until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. With nowhere else to go, to run, you fall backwards onto the bed, scrambling up towards the headboard. Your heart is pounding, too hard and too fast—would it give out before he even has the chance to get his hands on you? “Luke, please, just let me go.” Clasping your hands together in a plea, you beg him, your back pressed against the headboard, “If at any point in our relationship you loved me—if at any point in our marriage you actually cared about me, you will fucking let me go in peace. Please. Just let me go. Let me fucking go.”

Luke stands at the foot of the bed, his face blank.

Emotionless. There isn’t a single ounce of compassion in his eyes. No mercy.

“Please,” you whisper once more. Curling both of your arms around yourself, you subconsciously protect your belly.

Luke reaches down and unbuckles his belt.

You watch, your stomach churning, as he slowly slides the black leather from the loops of his jeans.

“I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

“I mean it, Joel. Stay away from Luke.”

Joel clutches his stallion’s reins tightly in his hands as the pair fall into a slow, easy trot behind Tommy and his horse, Ranger.

He follows his brother as he leads the way through the quiet, tranquil plains of Wyoming. Instead of scanning their surroundings for signs of potential danger, all Joel can do is think about you—that was all he could ever do these days, was fucking think about you and about that fucking night.

The memory plays over and over in his mind on a loop, torturing him day in and day out. It never fucking stops. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

“I mean it, Joel. Stay away from Luke. And maybe it’s for the best if you just fucking stay away from me too.”

That’s precisely what he had done. He had stayed away from Luke. And against his better judgement, he had stayed away from you, too.

“How’s it feel to be back out here?” Tommy asks over his shoulder. He tugs at the reins and gives Ranger the cue to slow his trot, giving Joel and his horse, Bandit, the chance to catch up and ride at their side. “Bet you couldn’t be fuckin’ happier to be off house arrest, huh?” he adds, a light joking edge to his tone.

After about four and a half weeks, Joel had made a full recovery, and he was cleared to return to patrol duties. Wanting to ease him back into the swing of things after so much time off, Tommy decided to pair up with Joel as his partner for that morning’s watch. The two took a route just a few miles west of the community, one that was scoured every couple of days since it was so close to Jackson’s main gate.

“S’alright,” he mutters with a shrug that causes him to wince. His shoulder’s still a little sore. Ellie had assisted with his physical therapy, badgering him every single night to do the exercises in some book she’d found in the town’s library with Dina’s help. He had full range of motion again, and that’s all Tommy had needed in order to allow him to return to patrol.

“You feelin’ alright?” His brother notices the slight look of discomfort on his face. “Shoulder’s good?”

“Any particular reason you’re bein’ so annoyin’ today?”

Tommy feigns offense. “You got fuckin’ shot, Joel. Just makin’ sure you’re okay. Jesus.”

Joel lets out a small huff through his nose. “M’fine,” he assures him. “Shoulder’s good. Still hurts a little and the cold weather ain’t doin’ a whole lot to help, but ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle.” Sitting back in his saddle, he lets his thighs close around Bandit. “Whoa,” he utters to the animal, his fingers squeezing the reins as he signals for Bandit to come to a halt.

“What’s the matter? Why are we stoppin’?”

“This route’s clear, Tommy. We should turn around and go find the rest of the group. Check and see if the other routes are clear too.” Joel clicks his tongue, prompting Bandit to move again. He steers the stallion and starts turning around to lead them back east, but then stops once more. He glimpses over at Tommy, who hasn’t moved a muscle. Noticing the odd, pensive expression on his face, Joel frowns, asking, “What’s wrong?”

Tommy chews the inside of his cheek, his apprehension written all over his face. “Uh Joel, there’s something we need to talk ‘bout and maybe it’s best if we do it while we’re out here, just the two of us.”

Confused, Joel’s eyebrows pull together. “What is it?”

His brother hesitates. His lips purse together, a sudden look of regret flashing across his features.

“Tommy?” Joel prompts. “The hell’s goin’ on?”

Exhaling a heavy sigh, he states, “You were right.”

“Right ‘bout what?”

“‘Bout Luke.”

Joel freezes in the seat of his saddle.

“You were fuckin’ right ‘bout him mistreatin’ her.”

His grip around the reins tightens, skin stretching thin over his knuckles so tight they’d gone white.

“She was over at mine yesterday afternoon. Ended up tellin’ me and Maria everthin’ ‘bout Luke and what he’s done.” Rolling his lower lip between his teeth, Tommy pauses for a second before repeating, “You were right. You were fuckin’ right ‘bout that bastard from the start and I’m real sorry that I didn’t fuckin’ believe you, Joel.”

Joel’s mind begins to race.

What had prompted you to finally tell Tommy and Maria about the abuse? Did something happen to you that he didn’t know about?

Ellie had been pretty good about keeping him posted. He would ask her about you the very minute she’d walk through the front door after her shift at the stables and she would provide him a full report.

“She’s fine. She ain’t hurt,” Tommy reassures him, as if he’d read his mind. “We’re plannin’ on movin’ her outta the house later on tonight.”

“What?” Finally, Joel speaks, his voice rigid.

Tommy holds his hands up in defense. “Now, hold on. I need you to give me a minute and let me explain—”

“She told you Luke’s been abusin’ her and you just let her go back to him? Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? Why didn’t you and Maria fuckin’ stop her?”

“Why didn’t you fuckin’ stop her the night you saw the bruise on her?” He shoots back at him.

Joel stares at him, his lips parting slightly.

How did he fucking know about that?

“She told us the truth ‘bout the affair too, Joel.”

“She did?”

“She did,” Tommy confirms with a nod. “I had a hunch, y’know. The day of the ambush, I thought I saw panic in her eyes when I told Ellie you’d been shot. Then I saw it again when she saw you there sittin’ on that table with a bullet in your shoulder, but I brushed it off. Thought she was just real worried ‘bout the kid seein’ as those two are thick as fuckin’ thieves, y’know?” Despite the serious nature of the conversation, he can’t help but let out a chuckle when he thinks of you and Ellie. “But now I know she was scared of losin’ you. That girl loves you, Joel. I know you love her too. I’m willin’ to bet it’s the reason you let her walk away that night. Why you kept her secret.”

“Jesus.” Joel exhales a shaky breath. “Y’must think I’m a real fuckin’ coward for knowin’ what he’s been doin’ to her and not doin’ a goddamn thing ‘bout it, huh?”

Tommy shakes his head.

“It’s a complicated situation, brother. She only did what she did for the good of the community. She’s still trying to do what’s best for Jackson, believe it or not. She, uh, she wants us to let Luke stay.”

“She wants you to let him stay?”

“Girl’s got too big of a heart. Doesn’t want the town to be without a doctor.”

“Ain’t no goddamn way you’d let him stay! After all the fuckin’ shit he’s done to her?” When his brother doesn’t respond, Joel narrows his eyes at him. “Jesus Christ. You can’t fuckin’ tell me you’re actually considerin’ it? Are you fuckin’ serious, Tommy? You and Maria would let that son of a bitch stay in Jackson? Knowin’ he’s spent two fuckin’ years puttin’ his hands on his wife?”

“Look here, alright? I don’t like the idea as much as you don’t, and neither does Maria,” he says. “But this ain’t exactly black and white, Joel. I really fuckin’ wish it was. But the hard truth is that Jackson does need a doctor, and unless one magically falls out of the fuckin’ sky, we ain’t got much of a choice here. My wife and child, they might need him, y’know? Maria’s considered a high risk ‘cause of her age. If somethin’ happens and there’s complications when she’s in labor, she and the baby are gonna need him. Our nurses, they ain’t really trained to handle things like that, y’know?”

Joel’s lips press together into a tight, thin line.

Of course it’s black and white to him—because he loves you. You’re his fucking priority. There’s no gray area for him. None.

But Tommy? His priority is Maria and their unborn child.

Joel can’t fault him for that, and he certainly isn’t going to try. But what about you?

“Listen, Joel. I know this is real fuckin’ hard, believe me I do. I care about that girl a lot, a whole fuckin’ lot. I saw her as family long before I knew ‘bout your relationship with her and before I knew she was—”

He stops abruptly, red splotching his cheeks.

Joel still doesn’t know he is going to be a father. Again.

“Before you knew she was what, Tommy?”

“Tommy!” A woman’s voice shouts. “Joel! Over here!”

The two brothers glance over their shoulders and see the rest of their morning patrol group heading towards them.

Tommy bites back a sigh of utter relief. That had been too fucking close.

He turns to Joel, lowering his voice. “Joel, I need you to listen, and listen to me real good. We’ve gotta take this one step at a time. First thing’s first, me and Maria are gonna get her outta that house. She can stay with us at our place for a while. She’ll be safe with us. That much I can promise you.”

“Then what?”

“Don’t know yet. We get her out first and then we figure things out from there. In the meantime, I’m gonna need you to stay calm, Joel. Please. Don’t go off and do somethin’ stupid, alright?”

That had been a lot easier said than done.

Joel needed to talk to you.

He needed to fucking see you.

But his brother had been adamant.

“Don’t fuckin’ get involved, Joel. Not ‘til we get her out. I don’t want things to fuckin’ explode in our faces, alright? Let me handle this.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel leans back into the couch and looks down at the guitar in his lap—he’d just spent the last hour carefully polishing it in an effort to keep himself occupied. He thought back to that night you’d come over to gift it to him, how he had kissed you for the first time mere hours before you showed up on his doorstep with your father’s Gibson.

As he gives the guitar a gentle test strum, he recalls the request you made for him to sing you a song and a dull ache settles in his chest, right over his heart. He’ll sing you every song you want to hear, if given the chance.

Part of him is optimistic that he would get the chance.

You were meant to be his. He was meant to be yours.

He just fucking knows it.

Joel’s train of thought is shattered by the sound of the front door opening, and then loudly slamming shut.

“Ellie?” He calls out.

Her voice comes from the hallway. “Yeah?”

“C’mere, kiddo.”

Ellie grumbles incoherently as she walks into the living room, hair disheveled, clothes filthy, and her sneakers caked with muck from the stables.

Joel frowns at her. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Today was just really fucking shitty and while that was a great pun, for once, it was not fucking intended,” she sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you called me in here to ask me about her, I’d save my breath. She stayed home today. She’s sick.”

Joel’s stomach instantly drops. “She’s sick?”

“Yeah. With like a really bad cold or something.”

Putting down the guitar, he questions, “And who told you that?”

“Dina,” Ellie replies, looking puzzled. “She said Luke told her—” She stops abruptly as he jumps to his feet and immediately shoves past her, heading towards the front door. She spins around on her heel, following him. As he flies down the porch and starts down the road towards your house, she is forced to jog along beside him just to keep up with his stride. “What, what? What is it? Fucking answer me, Joel, what is it?”

“She ain’t fuckin’ sick, Ellie.”

“What do you mean she’s not—oh fuck. You don’t think she’s hiding out at home because—?” Ellie’s heartbeat stutters when the realization sinks in. “Luke.”

When the pair arrive at your place, they find a very, very distraught Maria Miller standing on the front porch, her hands wrapped around the doorknob. “Hon, I need you to let me in!” She turns and pulls the knob, desperately. “Please! Open the door for me!”

Your tearful voice comes from the other side. “Go away, Maria!”

The sound of Joel’s boots prompt Maria to turn around. “Joel,” she breathes out his name in relief. “I can’t get her to open the door. Tommy went to see if we have a spare key for the unit. He hasn’t come back and I don’t know what to do.”

“Break a fucking window, maybe?” Ellie snaps at her.

Joel silences her with a glare and then takes Maria by her arms, moving her to stand behind him. “Open the goddamn door!” he commands firmly, pounding his fist harshly against the wood. He can almost feel the way you freeze on the other side the moment you hear the sound of his voice. “Open this fuckin’ door right now!”

Ellie chimes in, “Come on, please open the door!”

“Go away!”

Joel continues to beat his fists against the door. “Show me what he fuckin’ did to you!” He shouts as he drops his hands to the doorknob, clawing at it as if somehow that’s going to do the trick and open the door. “C’mon! Show me what that fuckin’ bastard did to you!”

“Please, go away, all of you! Just leave me alone!”

“You know we can’t do that,” Maria calls. “You’re going to have to open this door and let us—”

Losing what very little patience he has to begin with in the first place, Joel cuts her off. “I will fuckin’ break this door down if I have to,” he threatens. “I’ll cause a scene and let everyone in this whole fuckin’ town know what Luke does to you. Is that what you want?”

He hears the lock click almost instantly.

Finally, you crack the door open and peek out to show them your face. “There, you fucking see?” Your face is blotchy, your eyes red and swollen from crying. “I’m fucking fine! Now fucking go away!”

You try shutting the door, but Joel is too quick and slips the toe of his boot in, wedging it between the door and the doorframe.

“Move, Joel!”

“Nope,” he says, keeping it planted firmly in place.

Not wanting to break his foot, you let up and he shoves his way inside with Ellie and Maria trailing behind him.

Taking a clumsy step backwards, you gather up the front of your knitted cardigan in your trembling hands, bunching it around your neck to conceal it. “Get out! Please, just get out!” you beg them through your sobs. “Please leave! I’m fine! Look at me, I’m perfectly fine—”

Heart hammering painfully against his sternum, Joel walks over and he takes your wrists. “Let me see. Baby, please. Just let me see.” His voice is raw, thick, as if he were on the verge of tears himself. He just knows he’s failed you, failed to keep all those promises he had made about never letting anything bad happen to you. He’s fucking failed. Again. He tries to find your gaze, but you refuse to look him in the eye. “Let me see,” he chokes out again, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast against the iciness of your own. “I’ll force you if I have to, so please just show me. Please, just fuckin’ show me what he did to you.”

Letting out another agonized sob, you drop your hands and let go of the material, letting it fall back into place at your sides and exposing your injury.

Maria gasps into her hands. “God.”

“Fuck.” Ellie’s eyes widen in complete horror.

Joel drops your wrists, taking a step backwards as his eyes glaze over the severe discoloration around your neck.

He feels fucking sick to his stomach, but it isn’t until he notices the clear imprint of a square belt buckle on the column of your throat that Joel thinks he might actually be sick all over the floor.

“What the hell is going on in here?”

Luke’s voice suddenly echoes through the foyer. He stands near the front door, looking thoroughly confused—that is, until he sees you standing there, exposing what he had done to you the night before with his belt. The very same belt he’s wearing now.

No one has the chance to speak.

No one has the chance to think.

No one even has the chance to breathe.

Joel charges at Luke. He roughly snatches the collar of his jacket and pulls him further into the foyer of the house, away from the open front door so that he has nowhere to run.

You rush towards them. “Joel, stop! No!”

Maria quickly hurries to stop you, grabbing you by the back of your sweater. She yanks you back and out of harm’s way. “Don’t!”

Horrified, you watch as Joel slams Luke straight into the mirror hanging on the wall—head first. He pulls him forward, then slams him back even harder, the impact completely shattering the glass. Hundreds of shards go flying across the hardwood floor.

“Oh shit! Watch out!” Ellie jumps back as a sharp piece of broken glass lands between her sneakers.

“Joel, stop it! Please, stop!” you cry out as Maria grasps your arm to keep you from jumping in the middle of the altercation. “Stop it!”

But Joel is too far gone. Ignoring your desperate cries, he wraps one hand around Luke’s neck, holding him in place. His other hand curls into a tight fist and he starts delivering bone shattering blow after bone shattering blow to his face. “You wanna fuckin’ hit someone?” He snarls as the man’s nose cracks beneath his knuckles. “You wanna fuckin’ put your hands on someone? Huh? Then you fuckin’ put ‘em on me! C’mon, I fuckin’ dare you to put ‘em on me!”

Throwing Luke onto the floor, Joel climbs on top of him and he secures both of his hands around his throat. He feels the uncontrollable urge to do to him what he had done to you—only, unlike Luke, he doesn’t need a belt, and unlike Luke, he isn’t going to stop.

He isn’t going to let him live.

Joel squeezes Luke’s neck, cutting off his oxygen.

“How do you fuckin’ like it,” he hisses, irises going from brown to black as he presses harder on his windpipe. “C’mon, tough guy, tell me how you fuckin’ like it.”

Luke feebly claws and scratches at his hands, gurgling as blood starts coming out of his nose and mouth.

“Joel! Stop!” Tommy rushes into the house, his boots scraping against the floor as he skids to halt. Without hesitating, he jumps into action. “Joel, stop! Fuckin’ let him go! Let him go!” He reaches down to pull him off.

“Look at what he did to her! Fuckin’ look at her!”

Tommy turns his attention to you, and the color drains from his face. “Jesus Christ,” he breathes out, shocked by the mark around your neck. He has half a mind to step back and allow Joel to finish the job, but with you, Ellie, and Maria watching on in terror, Tommy doesn’t have a choice. He grabs fistfuls of Joel’s denim shirt and tries to tug him off the man he’s about to kill. “Fuckin’ let him go, Joel! Right now! That’s an order!”

Luke’s attempts to fight him off grow weaker. His face is beaten beyond recognition, and there’s a pool of dark red growing under him, dripping from a deep laceration he’d sustained from the being slammed head first into the mirror. His hands fall from around Joel’s wrists. He’s close to losing complete consciousness.

“Joel, let him go!” Tommy bellows. “Now!”

“Tommy, be careful!” Maria warns him, worriedly.

Somehow, he finally manages to peel Joel off Luke. He shoves him up against the nearest wall, pinning him in place. Behind him, Luke coughs and sputters violently, gasping as he frantically tries to breathe some air back into his lungs.

“Fuckin’ let go of me!” Joel growls, his eyes wild as he drives his fists into Tommy’s chest. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him! Let me fuckin’ go!”

Tommy cups Joel’s face in his hands and tries to meet his gaze. “Hey, look at me, I need you to calm the fuck down—I said fuckin’ look at me, Joel!” He demands. “I need you to calm the fuck down. I know that he fuckin’ deserves it, alright? Trust me, it’s takin’ all the strength I’ve got in me not to fuckin’ let go, let you kill the son of a bitch. Hell, there’s a part of me that wants to help you fuckin’ do it! But it ain’t the way we handle things here. M’gonna need you to take a breath and calm down, big brother. If anythin’, just do it for her sake, alright?”

Joel’s chest heaves, his breaths rough and ragged as his eyes flicker over to you. His heart sinks at the sight of you sobbing uncontrollably in Ellie and Maria’s arms.

Groaning, Luke rolls over onto his stomach and spits a mouthful of blood into the floor. “You can fucking have her,” he rasps, looking up at Joel through swollen eyes. “Keep her. Keep the useless little whore.”

Blinded by white hot rage, Joel starts thrashing around in Tommy’s grasp and tries to break loose. “Fuckin’ call her that again you fuckin’ son of a bitch—”

“Shit.” Dropping her arms from around you, Ellie steps forward, standing protectively in front of both you and Maria.

“Get the fuck off me, Tommy! M’gonna fuckin’ kill him!”

Maria tucks your face into her shoulder. “Don’t watch.”

“Joel, fuckin’ stop it already!” Tommy struggles to keep him in place. “You’re scarin’ her half to death!”

“I don’t fuckin’ care—”

Tommy’s fingers curl around the collar of his shirt. He slams Joel back against the wall so hard, the mirror, or at least what’s left of it, falls. The square frame breaks in half when it hits the floor.

“Well, you should fuckin’ care! She’s pregnant, Joel.”

You lift your head from Maria’s shoulder. “Tommy.”

Ellie spins around on her heel to face you. She stares at you with wide, round eyes. “You’re fucking pregnant?”

Joel looks over at you. Just as shocked, if not more.

“What?”

Tommy grabs his chin, forcing his older brother to look at him once more. “It’s true,” he murmurs quietly. “So please, just take a goddamn breath and calm the fuck down. For her sake—and for the sake of your child.” He releases Joel’s shirt and takes a careful step backwards towards Luke, who is still groaning in pain on the floor. Once he realizes Joel isn’t going to charge him again, Tommy turns around and grabs the injured man by the lapels of his jacket, pulling him up to his feet in a rough, careless manner. “Get the fuck up,” he says. He drags him towards the door. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“Tommy? Where are you taking him?” Maria questions him.

“Town jail. M’gonna throw his sorry ass in a fuckin’ cell and leave him in there ‘til we figure out what to do with him.” He glances over his shoulder. “I’ll get the council together for an emergency meetin’ tonight.”

“Jesus,” Ellie mutters under her breath as soon as they disappear. “Did this really just fucking happen?”

Chest still heaving, Joel glances down at his bloodied, torn knuckles and then turns to you, his eyes meeting yours. The tension between the two of you is almost palpable.

Maria lightly clears her throat. “We should probably get out of here,” she suggests. “Let’s head on over to mine and Tommy’s while we wait for him to get back.”

“Are you cold?” Ellie asks, worriedly.

She holds up a blue fleece throw blanket she’d dug out from the hallway closet despite you warning her not to snoop around the house while Maria’s in the bathroom tending to Joel’s hand.

Shaking your head, you sigh, “I’m fine.”

“But it’s cold in here.” She drapes the blanket over your hunched shoulders. “Can I get you something? Water? Are you hungry? You should probably eat something—”

“Ellie, please stop with all the fussing.” You pat the spot on the couch beside you. “Just sit here with me. That’s all I need right now.”

Nodding, she sits down and angles herself toward you, getting a closer look at the wound you’d been left with.

“Shit,” Ellie mutters under her breath. Grimacing, she lifts a hand and gingerly presses her fingertips to your neck in disbelief. “Fuck, dude. How bad does it hurt?” She touches a particularly sore spot on the column of your throat and you hiss in pain. She retracts her hand and sputters an apology, “Fuck, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Wincing, you assure her, “It’s fine. It’s just a little tender right now, that’s all.”

“A little?” she scoffs.

“Okay, maybe more than a little,” you admit.

Ellie observes you for a moment. “Are you okay?”

“It’ll heal, Ellie. It looks worse than it really is.”

“No, I mean—” Pausing, Ellie moves her hand, placing it on your stomach. “Is the baby okay?”

You glance down at yourself, almost as if you expected to see something different about yourself, but then you remember you’re only about six weeks along and there is nothing to see, no significant changes to your body. Perhaps it’s the reason why there’s a part of you having a hard time grasping that Ellie’s asking if the baby was okay. If your baby is okay.

After a minute, you nod. “Yeah, I think so,” you reply softly, putting a hand over hers.

Relieved, Ellie flashes you a small smile. “Good.”

“How are you two doing in here?” Maria appears in the living room with Joel trailing behind her. His right hand is wrapped up in a white bandage.

“We’re okay.” Ellie glances at Joel. “You okay?”

He gives a quick, subtle nod of his head. “M’fine.”

“We can take her home now, right?” When Ellie doesn’t ge the immediate response she’s seeking, she shoots him a tiny little glare. “She’s coming home with us, isn’t she? I mean, she fucking has to come home with us.”

He still doesn’t answer her question.

All Joel can do is stare at you, jaw clenched and his lips pressed into a tight, thin line.

“Hey, Ellie, how about we go into the kitchen and make some tea?” Maria beckons to her with her hand.

She snorts. “Seriously? Who the hell wants fucking tea after that fucking shitshow—”

Maria pins her with an exasperated glare. “Ellie.”

“Oh shit, okay. I get it now,” Ellie quickly realizes it’s simply an excuse for the two of them to leave the room. Dropping her hand away from your stomach, she jumps up to her feet and wraps her arms around you. Her hug is brief, but full of warmth and reassurance, as if she’s silently telling you everything’s going to be alright. She releases you and follows Maria to the kitchen, leaving you and Joel alone.

Nervously, you stand up, your knees wobbling.

You feel torn—torn between wanting to run over to him and jump into his arms, and wanting to run away in the opposite direction to find somewhere to bury your head in shame. You’d promised him he had nothing to worry about, swore to him you couldn’t bear a child, and now here you were, carrying his and putting a responsibility on his shoulders he didn’t ask for. A responsibility that, surely, he doesn’t want.

On top of everything else he’d been through with you.

No, because of you. And now this?

Somehow, you muster up enough courage to speak.

“Joel,” you squeak his name. “Say something.”

“You sure you’re pregnant?” He asks, quietly. He stands across the room, making no move to come closer.

Swallowing harshly, you nod. “I’m sure.”

“How long have you known?”

“I only just found out yesterday,” you swear.

“And Tommy and Maria fuckin’ knew before me?”

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or if he’s disappointed—not that either was a better option than the other.

“I was here with them yesterday in the afternoon. I got sick out of nowhere. Maria’s the one who suspected it and suggested I take a pregnancy test when I realized I haven’t had my period since August. After the first time that you and I—well, you know.” Shifting from one foot to the other, you continue to explain, “It never even fucking crossed my mind, Joel. I didn’t notice anything. I didn’t notice the symptoms. Missing my period, the dizziness, and the nausea. I was so busy trying to keep myself from fucking falling apart without you that it all went right over my head.”

Joel’s harsh expression suddenly softens.

“I took the test. When the results turned out positive, I just lost it. I fucking lost it, and I told Tommy and Maria everything because I was scared.” Your voice breaks, and a tear slips out from the corner of your eye, rolling down the side of your face. Several more threaten to follow, but you blink them back. “They offered to help me, Joel. They wanted to get me out of the house last night, but I was too fucking stubborn. I didn’t listen to them. I thought I’d be fine for one more night, but when Luke came home, he wanted to be intimate with me.”

Joel sucks in a sharp breath. His anger boils in his veins all over again. “And did he—he touch you like that?”

“No, of course not. I didn’t let him. I couldn’t let him. I told him not to touch me and I pushed him away.”

“Then what happened?”

“I told him that it was over. That our marriage was over and I was leaving. That’s when he took off his belt and he—” Gesturing to your throat, you start sobbing again as images of the night before flood your mind.

Luke had done pretty horrific things to you before, but this?

This had been the worst of them. He almost killed you.

“Baby.” Joel rushes over to you and pulls you right into his arms. “Shh, darlin’. S’alright,” he soothes. “S’alright, you’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

Whimpering, you met into his touch, the very touch you have been missing with every fiber of your being. “I’m so sorry, Joel,” you croak into his chest. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

He pulls away slightly, peering down at you. “Sorry? For what?” Without even giving you the chance to answer, he assures you, “There ain’t nothin’ for you to apologize for, sweet girl. Alright?”

You let out a tearful scoff. “Joel, I’m pregnant. And it’s fucking yours,” you remind him, the guilt in your tone loud and clear. “Don’t you remember how worried you were about it? And how I told you that you had nothing to be concerned about?”

“Don’t put it all on yourself, peach.”

You almost smile.

Oh, how you’ve missed hearing him call you that.

“Look, this is on me too, baby. Part of me knew there was still a possibility, but I didn’t care. All I cared ‘bout was makin’ you mine every fuckin’ chance I got.” Joel’s hand cups the side of your face. He chuckles nervously and says, “Y’know, at one point, I kinda thought I was at the age where I’m shootin’ blanks more than anythin’ else. Guess we were both wrong, huh?”

“Joel—”

He cuts you off. “And if you’re worried I’m upset ‘bout you bein’ pregnant, you’re wrong ‘bout that too, darlin’.”

Surprised, you blurt, “You mean, you want the baby?”

Now it's his turn to be taken aback.

“Y’thought I wouldn’t want it?”

“Yeah,” you confess, sheepishly. “I thought you would be mad about this, if I’m being honest, Joel. I wasn’t sure if you’d even want anything to do with it.” Noticing he’d taken some offense to the notion that he wouldn’t want his own child, you exhale a small sigh and place a hand on his chest. “Come on, Joel, can you honestly blame me? When you were the one who was so damn worried about me getting knocked up in the first place? Wouldn’t you have thought the same if you were me?”

He grazes your cheek with his thumb. “Can’t lie to you, sweetheart. I probably would have.” Letting his hand fall away from your face, Joel takes a seat on the couch and pulls you down onto his lap. “Sure as hell wasn’t in my plans to have another kid in my fuckin’ fifties. But y’know, the idea of having a little one runnin’ around, it ain’t all that fuckin’ bad.” He pauses, adding with a faint grin, “‘Specially if he or she happens to look like you.”

Relieved, you lean into his chest, shoulders sagging in exhaustion.

“You alright?” Joel murmurs, pressing a kiss into your hair.

Burying your face into his neck, you breathe him in. “I am now that I’m with you,” you confess as he wraps his arms around you, holding you tighter than he ever has before.

“M’gonna take real good care of you, darlin’. Both of you,” Joel reassures you, softly. “Nothin’s gonna hurt you, baby. S’long as you’re with me, nothin’ or no one is ever gonna hurt you ever again. Swear it on my life.”

#fic: a safe haven #fic: ash #joel miller series #Joel Miller angst #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tw: dv #tw: domestic violence #tw: pregnancy

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beauty-and-passion · 1 year

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Eurovision 2023: the show of unfairness and the triumph of people’s hearts

My god, this year left me exhausted.

It’s 1:30 am, the Eurovision Grand Final just ended and I am starting to write this post now, because I need some time to calm myself before going to bed. And maybe putting down some thoughts about this year will help me find some peace - at least for a couple hours.

This year has not been what was supposed to be, starting from the show and ending with the winner.

But let’s start from the beginning.

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Ukraine: robbed of their own show

We all know Ukraine couldn’t host Eurovision in their country because of the war, so they asked the UK to do that.

And the UK tried to be a good host. They reminded us of the reason why Ukraine couldn’t do it, they tried to call Ukrainian artists and make the show about them... only to systematically forget it two minutes later and start acting as if they won and this was their show.

I hope now you understand why last year I said to not give them power over anything. The UK has a tiny little problem called “massive ego” and if you give them a little crumb, they will immediately scarf the whole cake down.

This year should’ve been 70% Ukraine themed and 30% UK themed. What we had instead was the other way around: the UK gave us a tiny little interval show in the semifinals about Ukraine, then a massive show all about the UK.

The Gran Final has been the icing on this disgusting cake. It started with a bang, featuring all of our favourite Ukrainian artists in the span of five minutes: Tina Karol (I had no idea she was Ukrainian, what a nice surprise!), goddess Verka, my beloved Go_A with The Only Queen That Matters, aka Kateryna Pavlenko. And, of course, our favourite winners: the Kalush Orchestra. Man Carpet is still an icon and I still wonder what the singer sees behind that pink hat, but I don’t care. It’s perfect, it’s great, I want this but 200x more. I want them to steal the show, I want them in all interval acts. But no worries, I’m sure they will definitely appear more during the final. I mean, there’s no way the UK called them just to appear for 20 seconds, right? Right?

Oh sorry, my bad. I forgot this isn’t Ukraine’s show, this is UK’s show. We should definitely have Sam Ryder in the interval act and we should definitely make it all about English songs. I mean, it’s not like there are four of the most beloved Ukrainian artists in Liverpool. Let’s make it all a huge masturbation session of the UK instead.

I apologize if my metaphor offended someone, but this is what I felt while watching the UK celebrating itself. Like... can’t you do this in a private room? Do I really have to watch it? This is just one step below Portugal’s show, which showed a massive ego as well and tortured me for three nights straight, by repeating how cool they were and how nice they were and how I would’ve done a great choice visiting them.

But even if that was torture, at least Portugal was the winner of the previous year, not a host masturbating over the fact they are allowed to host a show they didn’t win.

The only choice I fully approve of in this show is the postcards idea: that was very elegant and respectful and I want to thank the person who thought about it. The cards show Ukraine’s beautiful places, UK’s beautiful places and every country’s beautiful places. It’s all beautiful and it’s a great way to both honor Ukraine and emphasize UK’s hosting role, since it looks almost like the UK acts as a “connection” between Ukraine and every other country.

Unfortunately for us, this is the last proof of elegance we will see for the rest of the show.

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Danemark and Poland: robbed even before starting

Do you remember Danemark’s and Poland’s entries? I know, me neither. Bland, forgetful, two huge balls of nothing.

Well, I have a good news and a bad one. The good one is that Danish and Polish people are not insane and their musical tastes are actually way better than this. The bad news is that the two entries we got (Bejba and Tiktokkid) were not supposed to win their country’s competition, because the public’s favourites were different. But, like, VERY different.

Same thing happened last year for Spain, but at least Chanel was able to put on a great show - even if her song was boring. Danemark and Poland didn’t have that either: one gave us a meme, the other gave us nothing. Disappointing.

So let’s clean Danemark’s and Poland’s names, by listening to the artists they were actually supposed to bring. Let’s start with Danemark and please, tell me if the tiktok kid is better than this (if you dare):

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And before you think: “oh my gosh, this could’ve been a great entry for Danemark!”, please listen to what Poland was supposed to bring:

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I love this song. I love this cute nice boy. I love the classical vibes. And when I played this song for my father, my 70-year-old father told me, with no hesitation: “Oh, this is way better than the other one!”.

So if a 70-year-old can recognize how good this song is, then there’s no generational gap and it’s not true that people are accustomed to the same boring stuff. If a song is good, is good. If a song is bland, is bland.

By now you probably already heard from Polish people about how the voting system of their competition was rigged and how Blanka won thanks to the power of nepotism. So our duty as Europeans (and as people with some fucking taste) is to stream Gladiator, listen to all of his songs and shower this boy with love because he needs to know the world loves him.

And for you all, Polish people: thank you for making us know about your true winner. He really looks like one and we love him too.

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Germany: robbed while trying

I really cannot understand why people keep hating Germany this much. Is it still because of WW2? What did they do, to deserve the bottom of the chart? I know it’s funny, I know it’s for the memes ah ah ah, but also... come on. Come. On. Are you really telling me that Poland was better than Germany? Are you really telling me that the UK was better than Germany?

I can assure you that if Sweden brought this exact same song, the jury would’ve given this song 300 points. But hey, ThE jUrY iS iMpArTiAl, right?

German people: I don’t know why the world hates you. I think you would’ve gotten more votes, if only the system wasn’t so stupidly rigged and forced everyone to choose one winner only, hoping to defeat the jury’s sheer power. Personally, I enjoyed your song and I enjoyed Lord of the Lost and I will definitely listen to more of their songs to add to my playlist.

However, I also understand your frustration. So you know what? Just go nuts. Choose whoever the fuck you want to represent your country, attend Eurovision whenever you want and do whatever you want, give us insane shit and amazing stuff. You will be treated the same either way, so why give a fuck? Have fun showing your insane side, I will support you 100%.

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Italy and Israel: what did they ever do to deserve these places?

As an Italian, I am honored people gave so many votes to Italy. Seriously, thank you all, nice to know people appreciate our singers.

But also: why so many votes? Why? I know Mengoni is a good singer, he has a great voice and if this was a real singing competition he would’ve probably deserved to win.

But since Eurovision is not a singing competition, why all these points? Were people really so in love with this ballad? Why? What does he have I cannot understand?

Even more important: why Israel, with their stupid unicorn song, got all these votes? Why? Is it because she’s good-looking? Seriously? Are we still stuck thinking with our genitals, instead of using our brains? I thought Europe moved past the need of thinking with genitals only and started developing some good fucking taste.

Or did her amazing “dance moves” get the public? Ok, she’s very flexible... but do I really really have to remind you of Chanel? A small dance segment is really worth so many points, when last year we had someone who was able to sing AND dance as she did for the entire song? I didn’t even like Chanel, but I am mature enough to recognize that THAT was a show, while the unicorn lady did nothing more than a small dance. Definitely not worth 185 public votes.

At least I know that my country didn’t go insane and the true points (aka the public’s points) didn’t go to the unicorn but to Moldova. Thank god, we are still able to recognize what’s good.

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Finland: the real winner

When Eurovision started, I was sure Czechia would’ve been the winner. However, their performance wasn’t enough to grant them victory.

Finland, however, had everything a winner needs. And now I will explain to you why, because I love this funky green man and you should love him too.

1) “A little man from Vantaa”

Käärijä is a rare gem, not just for Eurovision, but in general. He’s a simple, genuine, silly guy, who comes from a city few people knew before. He doesn’t speak English too well, but he tries and fails in comically sweet ways. He’s a huge fan of Rammstein, so he’s a man of culture. He became besties with Bojan from the Slovenian band Joker Out and their bromance has been the best part of this Eurovision: these two share one single braincell and I love them for this.

But, most of all, he’s humble. He never considered himself above all others, even after his victory. He knew right from the start that it would’ve been a battle between him and Loreen and yet, he never grew arrogant about it. He always talked about their rivalry in funny ways, through memes and by treating her nicely. But he also never underestimated her: he always put his whole self into every performance, knowing full well he had to give everything, to reach the public’s hearts.

And he did. He reached the public’s hearts and like many others all over the world, I also love this little man. He’s genuine, he’s honest, he’s a fashion icon (Finland changes their flag to green when), his dancers are funky and nice like him. You look at him once and all you can think is: “I want to protect him at all costs”. It’s just impossible to hate this man.

2) His song is a banger

Not only his song is a fusion of three genres (industrial metal, hyperpop and hip-hop/rap), so he’s already serving you three songs in one, but the language he used is Finnish.

I’ve heard Finnish people saying that they never used their language because it’s “too weird”. People, that’s exactly because it’s weird that you should use it! You have this gem and you hide it to us?!

If you don’t know why Finnish is so great, please consider that while all other European languages are part of the Indo-European family, Finnish, Estonian and Hungarian are not. They are part of a completely different family (the Uralic languages).

That means they have nothing similar to any other European language. They are something completely different and new, a whole new world to explore. And they’re here, in our continent!

In addition to that, Finnish is an agglutinative language, which means words are formed by stringing together morphemes. How fucking cool is that? I love this kind of language!

As someone who studied English, French, German and Russian, Finnish is something that gets my attention. I can recognize similarities between Germanic, Slavic and Italic languages and I love them, but Finnish is an unexplored world. It’s made of sounds that well, sound familiar even if they’re not. It’s a constant surprise, you know?

Also, I love that it’s a language full of vowels because it makes me think of my own mother tongue (Italian). It’s a bit like feeling at home, even if our languages have nothing in common <3

3) The best performance of Eurovision 2023

I love the Croatian daddies like the next person (and I’m glad the public gave them the top 10 because they deserve it), but Käärijä’s performance had everything: it told us a story (i.e. how Käärijä slowly emerges from behind his barriers to join the party), he gave us the best stupid dance moves and there’s even a family-friendly human centipede. What else do you need, to start dancing?

Also, another shoutout to his dancers, because I live for those shocking pink dresses and for their immensely creepy expressions. And I live for the public always welcoming them with screams: they deserve it.

I know you already enjoyed it 200 times, but you know what? Let’s fucking destroy the views of this video and let’s watch it again. And also, let’s notice how much the public enjoys it. How much they screamed, how they sang with him, how they enjoyed this party.

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Even without knowing Käärijä, you can feel he put his whole self into this. And the public felt it too.

And the final result was astonishing: he got 376 points from the public. It’s the second-highest public score, after Kalush Orchestra, who got 439 points.

If you notice, Käärijä’s percentage is even higher than Kalush Orchestra’s! And such a high result means one thing and one thing only: the public has chosen its winner. He is the winner. People are sovereign and people’s will has been very clear about it. So when I say he’s the winner, it’s not because I want to indulge him: it’s because it’s the fucking truth.

Also, please notice the kind of songs the public chose as their top 3 favorites: songs with nothing mainstream and native languages. All while the jury thinks what we want is the same boring shit we can hear on the radio 24/7.

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A painful evening

Let me start by making something clear: I don’t hate Loreen and I don’t hate Sweden. It’s not their fault if they win. They are just exploiting the situation, because they learned what the good formula is and keep using it over and over.

Loreen knows that if she sends another song that is just like all the others she made, she will get a high position. And now, thanks to yesterday’s victory, she knows she doesn’t even have to try. Why should she do something different, when doing the same thing twice made her win twice? Why try something different, why step out of her comfort zone? If she does the same thing, she can win. So she will keep doing the same thing.

Same goes for the entire country of Sweden. They learned that if they bring the most boring, generic pop song you can listen to on every radio on planet Earth, you will win. So, they will keep sending it. After all, a bland pop song is what the world is more accustomed to, so why change? Why do something different, when they can be teacher’s pet and always get a high score? This isn’t being stupid, this is being clever.

But is it elegant and fair too? Oh honey, absolutely not. This is the exact opposite of what elegance and fairness are.

On Saturday evening, when we reached the voting part of the show, the crowd literally CHEERED AND SANG Käärijä’s name or “Cha Cha Cha”. Multiple times.

Once the public clearly states who they want to win, then the competition is over. When the consensus is unanimous, there’s no competition anymore. The winner is already here. Everything else is just white noise and bureaucracy.

That’s what I felt, while I was forced to keep listening to a bunch of people loudly kissing Sweden’s ass. The public had already decided, we already have a winner. Why are we still wasting time?

And if forcing us to keep listening to this pitiful charade was not enough, the hosts decided to lose that shred of elegance that was still left on this joke of a show and not only shushed the public all time but even said “just ignore everyone”, as if their voices didn’t really matter. It’s not like this is a music competition and the public is the final receiver of said music, after all.

I don’t know you, but I don’t like to see the sovereign public being silenced and told they do not matter, all while a bunch of people takes the decisions for them. Maybe the Brits are accustomed to being silenced because an old rich man has to decide for them, but other countries don’t work like that. Like, you know, the one they’re hosting the competition for.

There was nothing democratic about Saturday evening. There was nothing fair in silencing the public and pretending they haven’t chosen their winner one hour ago, because teacher’s pet had to win again.

Do you really think Sweden deserved this victory more than Finland? Do you really think that a country that won six times needed to add this victory to their list, so they can say “ah ah we won as many times as Ireland”? Or just because they can do their stupid ABBA anniversary next year? Is this the reason why we choose our winner, now? The past glories of a country? Well, then in 2048 is the anniversary of Dana International’s winning song, let’s all go to Israel! And in 2056 we’ll go to Finland, because it’s the anniversary of Lordi’s winning. And in 2071 will be 50 years from the Maneskin’s victory, so let’s come back to Italy.

What, does that sound ridiculous? Tell that to the jury, then.

I feel immensely sorry for the Finnish people, because I read online how much this victory could’ve meant for them. This could’ve been so important, such a good chance to shine for a country that considers their language “too weird” and who hasn’t won in 17 years. And since they are stuck between that ticking bomb that is Russia and the always perfect Sweden, they really needed something that gave them more positive attention.

And it broke my heart even more to see Käärijä suffering. He even apologized to his nation. He did something amazing and he still apologized. He literally won and apologized for not winning. That’s unfairness to its finest.

And if all of this is not enough, the results of the public’s vote came out and oh, look, not a single country gave 12 points to Sweden, while almost every country gave 12 points to Finland. Wow, who would’ve fucking guessed that teacher’s pet won because of the teacher.

Again: does that seem fair and democratic to you?

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Oligarchy masqueraded as democracy

Let’s do a little bit of math, shall we?

Each national jury consists of five people + one backup juror. They supposedly vote for the best singer and performance- AHAHAH great joke, very funny.

But let’s not focus on this, now: let’s focus on numbers.

37 countries participated this year. So 37 x 6 = 222. The jury is made up of 222 people in total.

The entire population of Europe is around 451 million people, but let’s keep it low because Eurovision isn’t watched by all Europeans. Let’s take just the number of views on the Youtube streaming of the Grand Finale: 9.5 million people. Let’s round up to 9 million, okay?

Okay, so now we have 222 people on one side and 9 million people on the other. Let’s pretend that less than half of them voted at least one time.

Okay, now look me straight in the eyes and explain why the votes of 222 people should have the same weight as the votes of 4 million people. Please, explain to me how democratic this decision is, can’t wait to hear it.

But you know what? Even if it was 1 million voters only, that wouldn’t have been fair either. In no universe is fair to put one million voters on the same level as 222 voters.

There’s only one possible scenario in which this is fair: if Eurovision was a talent show specifically centered around performances and voices, with a jury made of vocal teachers and choreographers, and all I have to do is passively watch it on my couch.

But from the moment you gave the public the power to choose who the winner could be, then why do the votes of all the people from Europe (and Australia) have the same weight as what 222 people decided?

This isn’t a democracy. This is an oligarchy masquerading as a democracy: a bunch of people decides what you should like, basing their decision on their own interests. And you have no way to oppose them, unless you focus all your votes on one single artist, hoping it would defeat the one the jury chooses.

But this deprives Eurovision of the competition aspect. It’s not a competition if I have to endure a tug-of-war against the jury. It’s not a competition if I am forced to give all of my votes to one artist only, instead of spreading them out to all my favorites. And even in that case, basically all of Europe should vote for that specific artist to try and overcome the sheer power the jury has. Again: does this sound democratic to you?

Now you may say: but the jury is made of experts. Oh, you mean the same experts that proved multiple times they base their votes on politics, who their neighbor is and who can corrupt them better? Or do you mean the same experts that in the past made their choice even without listening to the songs?

The truth is that we have 222 people who can easily be influenced by anything and their power is as strong as the power of 4 million people at least. Four million people, who got invested and followed the entire show from start to finish, if I may add. Please, tell me about the fairness of this system again.

And before you say “but Eurovision is a music competition and we need experts”... sorry, but no. According to Wikipedia, the jury was present before televoting was born, but once televoting was extended to all competing countries (1997 ca.), the jury was no more. It came back only in 2009, with this unfair compromise of 50/50 between jury ad public votes.

So there was a period of time in which there wasn’t a jury and in that period we had the first win for Estonia, Turkey, Latvia, Greece, Finland, Serbia and Russia. How weird that, once the jury isn’t there, other nations have a chance to win too.

The thing is: Eurovision isn’t a simple music competition. It’s more like a window. A window where anyone can have their chance to shine. No matter if you’re from a well-known country and everyone knows who you are or if you’re from a tiny piece of land in the middle of nowhere and all you can do is speak your native language: if you have the right combination of song+performance+voice, you can win.

And it’s beautiful we have this window, because it allows us to see something we’ve never seen before: rock bands, silly songs, folk songs and straight-up weird songs. In Eurovision, you don’t have to listen to just the same generic bland song, but you are allowed to listen to different artists and different cultures - and if you like them, you are free to choose your winner, no matter how not mainstream it is.

And we Europeans need this. We need to celebrate the diversity of Europe and embrace them. We need to see people from different countries hanging out, having fun and becoming best friends. For a continent that has always had (and still has) a problem with wars, we need something that allows us to look at each other and not see a piece of land to conquer, but a place full of life and culture to learn about.

And since we pride ourselves to be the continent where democracy was born, let’s put this democracy in the show we’re so proud of. Do we really need the jury vote? Do we really need the vote of this bunch of people? Okay, let’s have them. But it’s not acceptable to give them the same weight as the public’s vote. 50/50 isn’t acceptable anymore. 20/80 is fairer. I’m feeling nice, we can even do a 30/70. It’s just not acceptable that 300 people should have power over millions over something those same millions will enjoy. As always, the public is sovereign.

And if the public’s taste is shit, at least we will be free to blame ourselves for something we brought unto ourselves - and not feel sick and angry over something others forced upon us.

Or everything can stay the same and the 50/50 system will keep going. But at least, be honest enough to not waste everyone’s time, by pretending the public can do something more than watch what a bunch of people decide for them. Do not pretend to be righteous and democratic, when you’re not.

______________________________

The triumph of people

This finale drained me. If it were just a little fairer, I would’ve been thrilled to see Luxembourg coming back after years. But right now I don’t feel like watching next year’s show. I know it will probably be amazing, because Sweden is very good at hosting. But I don’t want to see them masturbating over how good they are and how much they deserved to win - even if they didn’t win.

And, honestly, I don’t care about ABBA either. I don’t give a damn about them, nor about their anniversary. I’m definitely not looking forward to that either.

I will listen to the songs as always, then I might give it a try and watch the semifinals. It depends on how bitter my grudge will be, after one full year. If it will still be very bitter, I will probably spend my time better, by listening to the songs more times, watching the performances and making my own personal final chart. I won’t have ABBA or funny interval acts, but I can try my best to make it enjoyable to read. And it won’t be a fucking charade, at least.

Sorry, but I will keep being bitter for some time. And if you feel bitter too, you have every right to be, no matter what people say. Your voice has been silenced and ignored and numbers don’t lie. It’s very understandable you feel bad.

But you know what you can do? Use your anger in a positive way. And no, that doesn’t mean sending death threats to Loreen. You can accuse Sweden of its lack of elegance and decorum if you want, but always be polite. Don’t be like some of them, who are such sore losers they had the guts to be angry at Finland because it didn’t give Sweden any public points. Bo-hoo, may I add.

What you can do instead is make some noise: ask for the jury to be abolished or for this shitty system to change. And, even more important, support your winners. A lot of amazing artists have been wronged this year, so shower them with love.

And send your love especially towards our winner. Stream Cha Cha Cha, check his other songs, shower him with love and support, make a statue for him in Vantaa, pay me a plane ticket because I need to tackle him in a hug and tell him how much the world loves him. Let’s show the world that he slaps, Finnish slaps and we want more of this.

Do you still need more Cha Cha Cha in your life? Good news: Lord of the Lost made a cover for Cha Cha Cha and OH MY GOSH it’s insanely good. It has a lot of Rammstein vibes, it’s cool and it slaps even harder. Check it out because it’s amazing!

Also because the German singer learned some Finnish, just to spell every word correctly and, according to the Finnish people in the comment section, he did a great job. What a wholesome guy, I love and stan him and his band - and you should do the same, because they are amazing and they don’t deserve last place <3

youtube

And if you need more Käärijä in your life, there are amazing Youtube channels with great collections of his moments, like Eurovision Is Ambition and Uni Dash Corn. I especially suggest you see his bromance with Bojan - and speaking of him, another shoutout to Bojan! He’s such a nice, wholesome guy with great charisma, you cannot hate him. I am not head over heels for his song, but he’s so fucking wholesome, he deserves good things only.

And I also suggest you see how Käärijä has been welcomed in Helsinki. He has been welcomed like a fucking hero, a national treasure. And of course he was: he is the true winner after all, he deserved the welcome only winners get.

It’s a bit like he said in his apology: the better one won. And so he did.

You know, I think the only good thing that came out from this shitshow that was Eurovision 2023, is the people’s heart. People showed their kindness, their love, the best of humankind. We saw acts of friendship, we saw empathy and appreciation. The hug between Käärijä and Bojan, despite its sad meaning, is also a perfect example of what we all should be: kinder, softer, more empathetic, together, no matter how far and different our countries are.

In a way, I am happy that Ukraine’s message of unity was still carried out, even if indirectly and definitely not the way the UK wanted.

And in the end, the trophy isn’t so important: it’s just a piece of glass after all. And no piece of glass is worth the impact one little man from Vantaa left on so many people all over the world.

I know you will never read this post, but I wish you a lifetime of success, Käärijä. You have everything a winner needs and, in fact, you are one. So don’t be too hard on yourself, because the world still needs to show you how much it loves you. Take your time, relax, have fun and come back when you’re ready - just don’t leave us hanging for too much, ‘kay?

And you, Finnish people: please treat our beloved winner with love for us too. We will do our best from afar, so let’s be together on this as we should <3

2K notes · View notes

bvidzsoo · 4 months

Text

Who am I?

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: mentions of a gun, cursing, smut

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

Word count: 14,2k

Summary: Going through the dark passageway late in the night really wasn't your greatest idea, but the angels were on lookout that night and sent Jeong Yunho as your savior. But what happens when you realize Jeong Yunho isn't at all what he seems to be?

A/N: Uh...hi? This piece here really shouldn't exist, like the way I wrote it was so against the routine I have when doing stories, I'm even shocked it became real. It also was supposed to be a mere longer drabble but oh well, I suck at writing short stories either way. Also, Jeong Yunho is a constant in my mind lately so...ig it was inevitable that I write something with him. *sigh* There's smut in here and ugh...yeah, I tried again lol. Leave feedback, I very much appreciate it and stay tuned for the next chapter of the rockstar!au Mingi story! Enjoy now and tell me your thoughts!

⟨Masterlist⟩

It really was my fault; I should have been smarter before turning down the dimly lit passageway between the two tall buildings. But the path towards my flat was shorter this way, and I was in a hurry, desperate to finally get home after a long and busy day. The streets were quiet as night had settled upon the otherwise lively city and as I exhaled through my mouth, a little puff of smog appeared in the chilly air. My hands slipped deeper into the pockets of my black bomber jacket as I nuzzled my nose more into it, the tip of it unmistakably red. Winter struck upon us quite unexpectedly and the hope that we still had a few more days of sunshine and as little warmth as the sun could offer came crushing down when the wind picked up two days ago and snow started falling immediately. And what was even worse is that the temperatures dropped so low that everything had frozen over by now and it was slipper; in the past ten minutes I have almost fallen on my bum at least three times. But the little scare got my heart pumping faster, and I wasn’t feeling as cold as I was supposed to despite the layers of clothing adorning my body.

There was a light shuffle behind me, that was the first thing which caught my attention, and then suddenly, the dark figure standing a few feet ahead close to the wall, as if they were facing it, was the second thing to alarm me. My heart leaped slightly as my hands balled up into fists in my pockets, but I quickly tried to calm myself down. Not all men were evil and not all men wanted to hurt women, and I wasn’t even sure it was a man standing up front. My legs carried me faster and I gulped when the person whipped their head around to look at me. My hunch was right, it was a man, and he had a bloodied lip as I took in his face while still approaching. I quickly averted my eyes and quickened my pace, hoping that if I ignored him, he would ignore me as well. I had nothing on me if he decided to attack me, I could only hope my fists were good enough and I wouldn’t break my fingers if I was forced to use brute force. I only would have had to take three more steps to be past the man, but he suddenly jumped in front of me and I came to a halt as he squared me up. I tried not to let him see the fear I was feeling pulsing through my body as I clenched my jaw as my body lightly trembled from the adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream.

“Hey there, bunny.” My eyebrows furrowed at his raw voice, almost as if it was hard for him to speak as a disgusting smirk painted his lips. I suddenly wished I had taken the longer way, walked on the main road instead of this shortcut. When the man realized I wouldn’t say anything back, he tsked, “Are you shy, little bunny?”

Nicknames were annoying in a normal scenario and it was only making my skin crawl right now, but I remained silent, gripping the keys of my flat’s front door which I had in my left pocket. One wrong move from the man, and I wouldn’t hesitate to stab him with it.

“Why are you not answering me?” His voice got rougher and he took a wobbly step towards me, and without much thought, I whirled around with the purpose of walking back the way I have come, but another man was blocking my path. He looked lanky and was hunched over as his lips pulled into a scary sneer. I was cornered. My hands started trembling more as I took a deep breath, trying to think level headed, but my mind was clouded with panic as I searched for an escape route without much success. Before I could even react, the man with the busted lip approached me from behind and as I turned to be able to see him, his rough hand made contact with my left shoulder. I quickly yanked myself away and slightly crashed into the concrete wall of the building behind me.

“Don’t touch me!” I managed to snap out with a shaky voice, yet it sounded rough. It certainly didn’t match the way I was feeling, scared absolutely shitless.

“Is my little bunny scared?” If I wasn’t so scared I probably would’ve seen red at his claim over me, and it only made it worse as the other man chuckled. My eyes snapped towards him before quickly looking back at the other man when I realized he tried to grab at me again.

“I said, don’t touch me!” I shrieked and went to push him backwards, breathing irregularly as I was full on shaking, on the verge of a break down. But if I started crying I would look helpless, which I was, and I probably wouldn’t be able to see anything, so I willed myself to blink away the tears quickly.

“You little bitch, you wanna play rough?” The man spat as he had stumbled backwards from my push and I shrunk against the wall when the taller one suddenly started approaching, a hungry stare in his eyes. My lips started trembling and I went to yank out my keys and lunge at the taller one, but a very amused chuckle halted everyone’s actions. All I could think about was a third man coming to do vile things to me and at the thought, a few tears rolled down my cheeks, but I quickly wiped at them when I saw the battered-up man smirking in my direction at my distress.

“I thought I beat your sorry ass into unconsciousness.” At the hear of the third person’s voice, the battered-up man suddenly froze and his eyes widened as the taller one took a step back, leaving just enough space for me to run away, “What are you still doing out here?”

The battered-up one cursed under his breath before putting on a fake smile as he whirled around, facing the third man. I was too scared to look, shaking, as I pondered whether it was the distraction I needed to run away, “I was just playing with my little bunny, you should go on your way—”

“She doesn’t look like she wants to play with you, Siwon.” The third man snapped and my eyebrows furrowed at the familiarity of his tone. It resembled someone’s I knew from my university, but I remained unmoving as the tall man slowly backed away, “And you, Nikhun, I thought I said I didn’t want to see you around here, anymore…”

“I was just passing by.” The taller one, Nikhun, stiffly said before he abruptly turned around and took off almost in a run as the familiar voice just chuckled. My muscles slightly relaxed as I realized I could now just run back the way I had come, and moving slowly, I started heading just that way.

“I know I said I wasn’t going to kill you, Siwon,” The familiar sounding man tsked as I continued slowly walking with my back pressed up against the building’s cold wall, “But you’re really testing my patience lately.”

“Fuck you, man.” Siwon spat and I jumped when there was suddenly a loud crash and an exasperated scoff. I froze and didn’t dare breathe as I felt eyes on me. I didn’t know who was looking at me or what happened, I was scared to turn my head and look. I had to run. But as I pushed myself away from the wall, the familiar voice suddenly called out.

“It’s okay now, Y/N.” What—I whipped my head around and first took in the scene. Siwon, the battered-up man, was lying on the ground unconscious by the big trashcan. The loud bang must’ve been him. With wide eyes, I looked at the third man alarmed, and my jaw dropped as I stood staring at the familiar face of Jeong Yunho. Everyone knew him at university and everyone loved him. Jeong Yunho was like the sunshine. He was always smiling and laughing, cracking harmless jokes and hitting up a conversation effortlessly with anyone. He was kind and considerate, he always helped out anyone who needed help. He would carry your stuff if they were heavy and he’d walk you home if it was too late. He held the door open for anyone and he would make place for you at the Cafeteria if there were no more empty spots. The Jeong Yunho who was often found in the library with his nose buried in books, typing furiously on his laptop, and always turning in his assignments way before their deadline. He wore light colors and fluffy clothes, often paired with hilarious beanies and hats. But the guy standing a few feet away from me looked nothing like the Yunho I have taken glances at or heard stories about. Yunho and I weren’t friends, we were far from being acquittances even, but everyone knew him at our university and that included me. We were people from two very different universes and I had no idea how he knew my name. Yes, sure, we would cross paths in the library at times when I was in a rush as my deadline was a day or two away, and yes, I did almost spill my coffee on him once, but there was never a conversation involved or an exchange of names. Just a small, “Oh, my, God! I’m so sorry, that was a close call.”, and a “Don’t worry about it, you have great coordination, you stopped in time.” If I would have had great coordination, I wouldn’t have nearly ran into him, but I didn’t have the time to tell him that as I was late to work.

“Yun—Yunho?” I stuttered out finally once I was one hundred percent convinced it was Jeong Yunho. The dimly lit passageway made it harder to see his face from where I was standing and his clothes were unrecognizable, but it was his voice which confirmed his identity.

“Jeong Yunho in person.” He chuckled and I finally pulled myself together and slowly started approaching him. My legs were slightly shaky and I was still clutching my keys tightly in my left hand, but my heartbeat was slowly calming down. I passed by Siwon and took a peek against my better judgement, eyes widening when I saw the little trickle of red from the side of his head. Was he…going to die?

I looked up as I came to a stop a few steps away from Yunho and exhaled, coming face to face with a very unfamiliar looking Jeong Yunho. Despite the cold weather he was wearing a black leather jacket over what seemed to be a long-sleeved form fitting blouse with graphic design on it, and wide black jeans hugged his legs with the blouse tucked in, showing off his waist. His neck was decorated with various necklaces and as he extended one hand towards me, I noticed all the rings on his long fingers. I gulped as I looked back up at him, slightly intimidated and mostly confused. His black hair was completely pushed back and the usual fluffiness was gone from it.

“Come, you’re safe now.” Yunho encouraged me with his usual warm smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. My eyebrows furrowed as I reluctantly extended my hand and placed it in his palm, gasping when he yanked me forward, making me jump over Siwon’s slumped body. Yunho smirked as I somehow managed not to fall against his chest, big eyes staring up at him in shock, “Good thing I was passing by, angel, or else these two…”

He didn’t finish his sentence and he didn’t have to; I knew. I gulped and became aware of the awfully obvious height difference between the two of us and scrambled to pull my hand out of his, but Yunho’s grip suddenly tightened and he stepped closer, making me tip my head back as I tried looking in his eyes. My heart was racing once again and I could feel a blush creep up onto my cheeks as Yunho’s eyes examined my face with a small smirk, “What are you doing out here so late at night?”

“I—” My mind blanched for a second as Yunho’s cold fingers intertwined with mine, “I had the evening shift today, I—I was just walking home.”

“It’s unsafe at this hour.” Yunho’s voice turned stern and I averted my eyes, suddenly embarrassed that I was getting scolded by him, “And especially through this neighborhood, Y/N. You should’ve stuck to the main road instead.”

“I know.” I grumbled under my breath and Yunho chuckled, his voice deep, and it only made me flush harder as I avoided eye contact.

“Let’s get you home.” He said quietly and I looked at him alarmed, extracting my hand from his as he started walking us towards the end of the passageway.

“I can walk on my own—” I said in a panic, not wanting Yunho to walk with me. I wasn’t even far away, I have taken this route so many times before, I was going to be fine now that those two men were gone, but Yunho’s tone definitely made me rethink my words as he spoke up.

“You are not walking on your own, especially around here.” Yunho’s voice was sharp and he threw me a quick glare as he looked behind, at me, “Do you not know anything about this place?”

I shrugged and pushed my hands into my pockets again, “I do, but it’s not that big of a deal. I always walk home at this time and nothing has ever happened. I just had bad luck tonight.”

“Bad luck, you say.” Yunho scoffed, face contorted into disgust, “The things those two would’ve done to you would have been terrible, Y/N, and you call it bad luck?”

“Okay, fine.” I snapped and walked up to his side, giving him a wide-eyed stare, “Walk me home then, but this is fucking weird. How do you even know my name?”

Yunho’s eyebrows furrowed and his sharp stare made me gulp as I shrunk back, walking a little further away from him, “We go to the same university.”

“I’m not popular.” I deadpanned and Yunho shrugged, looking ahead as his jaw clenched and unclenched.

“You once scribbled in a book from the library and I was at the front desk when the librarian lost it. She rambled on about you for a good fifteen minutes before I was finally allowed to rent the book I wanted.” I cleared my throat in embarrassment, remembering well what the next day looked like when I walked inside the library. I have skipped going there for the next two months from shame as the librarian had screamed at me for ten minutes without even as much as taking a breath.

“Whatever, it’s still weird.” I muttered and nuzzled my nose behind the neckline of my jacket, regretting now that I haven’t worn a scarf. Yunho just chuckled and cast me a side glance as his longs legs carried him around faster than my shorter ones; it almost felt like I was jogging next to him. He must’ve been cold with how few clothing items he was wearing. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander towards him as I took in his appearance again, deciding that this version of Yunho was intimidating and quite…hot. His bright persona was certainly eye catching but this felt different, alluring almost.

“It’s not weird,” Yunho said with a chuckle, lips pulling into an amused smile, “I’m just observant.”

I hummed, but didn’t look at him as I asked my next question while we crossed the road, “What are you doing here, anyway?”

Yunho chuckled again, but it was lower and as we looked at each other briefly, there was a dark glint in his beautiful chocolate brown eyes, mischief written all over his face, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I rolled my eyes and quickened my pace, just wanting to get home already. I was tired and cold.

“Do you have the evening shift often?” He asked after a minute of silence.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I fired back and Yunho laughed, head tilting back slightly, “Don’t expect me to give you an answer when you evade mine with a question.”

“You didn’t look like you’d be this feisty, angel.” My steps halted as I stared at Yunho incredulously, eyes slightly widening in offense. What did he mean by that?

“I’m tired.” I called out since Yunho hadn’t stopped walking and now I had to jog to catch up with his long strides, “And you’re walking too fast.”

“My apologies.” Yunho suddenly slowed down and looked at me with a big smile, the first time he looked like the Yunho I knew from university, “Sometimes I forget not everyone has long legs like mine.”

“Yeah,” I rolled my eyes, “I wonder how’s the weather up there.”

Yunho suddenly laughed, pressing a palm against his lips as it was loud, “I haven’t heard that one in long.”

I just hummed and cast another glance at him, confused of our whole conversation and the situation we were in. To be fair, I was grateful for him, of course I was, but the shock still hadn’t worn off and I was still slightly thrown off by his demeanor and change of personality…and looks. We continued walking in silence, steps hurried as the wind started blowing harder and all I could think about was Yunho being cold and getting sick because of his choice of clothing. However, the quiet didn’t last for long around us as we heard approaching footsteps, it sounded like they were running towards us. Yunho and I looked back at the same time and I failed to notice the way his expression hardened and jaw set. Before I could react, a heavy arm was draped around my shoulders and I was pulled into a sturdy body, warmth wrapping around myself and a masculine scent. I looked up at Yunho flabbergasted before watching the running man again as he came to a stop a few feet away from us.

“Hey, Yunho—” He panted as he leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees, “Finally found you, man.”

Yunho said nothing as he watched the guy, strengthening his grip against my shoulder when I tried to move away. My eyebrows furrowed as I struggled for a bit more, until Yunho clicked his tongue and I looked up at him, feeling his gaze on me already. His eyes were sharp and dark and I gulped as I looked away, stilling in his grip when he looked back at the younger looking guy, “What do you want?”

His voice sounded nothing like the friendly person I have been just talking to, it was ice cold and it made me shiver.

“Yeah, uh,” The guy glanced at me reluctantly, “Cheol wants the money. Soon.”

Yunho scoffed and rolled his eyes as I looked at him curiously, wondering where this conversation was going, “I thought I have made myself clear already, Chan.”

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, alright?” The shorter guy scoffed and stood up straight, his eyes hardening as he looked at Yunho now with a slight glare, “You’ve been avoiding us for months now, Cheol is getting fed up…so is everyone else.”

“And I have a reason for that,” Yunho snapped, anger coating his voice, “which you all know of. If you want my money, do your fucking end of the deal for once.”

“Was the merch not good enough last time?” Chan raised an eyebrow. These two were acting like I wasn’t even there, so I tried to get out of Yunho’s grip again, but instead, he gripped my nape and roughly pushed my head into his chest, making me gasp. I clutched against the collar of his leather jacket and tried to pull away, but Yunho’s strength was immense, so, instead my cheek was mushed against his firm chest, his musky cologne invading my senses and making my head slightly dizzy.

“If it were good, you would’ve seen the money by now.” Yunho’s voice held no emotions and I watched as best as I could from my position as he reached with his right hand behind himself, moving at what looked like lightning speed to me, but with my vision obscured I wasn’t able to see what was in his hand, “Go back to Cheol and tell him to get his fucking act together before I take action.”

“Asshole.” I heard this Chan guy snap and then an unsettling silence followed. I bit my lower lip and wondered what was going on, and it didn’t take long to find out as he spoke up soon again, “Got yourself a shiny new toy?”

“She’s a person, not a toy, Chan. And she’s not mine.” Yunho’s voice was rough and my breath halted for a second as I felt Yunho’s fingers twitch against my skin. I moved my head slightly to look up at him and caught the quick glance he sent down at me. It was dark and emotionless, yet it held a clear warning that I needed to stay quiet. My heart skipped a beat involuntarily.

“You better claim her then, before Cheol gets his hands on her—”

“Get lost, right now.” I have never heard such a threatening tone from anyone before, and my blood froze over at the anger and sneer in Yunho’s voice as he grabbed onto the back of my head tightly, making me freeze as I heard the click of something. Was…was he holding a gun? I gasped quietly as my fingers dug harder into the fabric of Yunho’s jacket and I heard the Chan guy cackle before his footsteps stared fading away. Yunho, however, didn’t move and I was too scared to do so as I realized I had started shaking. Suddenly, my head was being pulled back by Yunho’s hand on my nape and we made eye contact as he looked down at me menacingly.

“Not a word to anyone.” I exhaled shakily and frantically nodded my head as I dared to take a glance at his other hand, which, to my horror, held a black gun. My blood ran cold as Yunho released me at the same time as he put his gun away, behind himself, probably in the belt of his jeans, “Let’s go.”

And the rest of the walk was silent and hurried as I almost ran to finally get home, confused and scared and needing a shit ton of answers to the questions swirling in my head, which Yunho was probably unwilling to give. I valued my life above all, and therefore I remained silent, besides, the anger oozing off of him was enough to shut me up despite my sparkling curiosity. Who the hell was Jeong Yunho?

The next day I did everything in me to forget about last night’s endeavors and about Jeong Yunho. I could act like nothing happened, like it was all just a dream. And everything was going well, until…until Yunho and I crossed paths in our university’s hallway. Well, we didn’t actually cross paths, but we saw each other briefly as I was walking with my best friend to class and Yunho was headed towards the stairs, the two of us on the two opposite ends of the long hallway. My friend was talking about the book she was currently reading and I would hum or nod along to her words, letting her know that I was paying attention despite being silent as we walked, my hands gripping the straps of my backpack. I nodded in agreement at her characterization of a character we both enjoyed from the book, when I finally looked ahead and my mind blanked. It certainly did feel like last night was a fever dream as Yunho stood on the other end of the hallway, black hair falling in soft curls against his forehead with his rainbow-colored sweater hanging loosely around his frame, big hands disappearing in the sleeves of it. His jeans were a faded grey and he was laughing as he talked to someone, eyes disappearing and cheeks puffed out. He looked nothing like the guy from last night and it gave me whiplash as his menacing and threatening eyes flashed before my eyes just as Yunho suddenly looked ahead, his eyes finding mine, looking at me with the warmest gaze anyone could muster up. I realized I was gaping, but I couldn’t help it when my brain convinced me that Jeong Yunho from right now and Jeong Yunho from last night weren’t the same person.

“Are you staring at Yunho right now?” My best friend’s voice finally snapped me out of my staring and I looked at her with the same wide eyes.

“I—yeah, but—” I needed to get it together, “That’s not Jeong Yunho.”

“Uh,” My friend looked at me like I had grown another head, “then who is he?”

“I don’t know, but—” I let out a long huff, eyebrows furrowing as I looked back at Yunho, “but that’s not the same guy from last night, I’m telling you.”

I could see the confusion on my friend’s face as she looked towards Yunho, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “He looks like—Yunho. I mean, what are we even talking about right now? Did you hit your head or something?”

“Stop it.” I snapped at her and pushed at her shoulder in frustration, making my friend glare at me, “He must have two personalities or something.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say about someone, Y/N.” My friend chastised me and I groaned in frustration. Of course she wouldn’t understand. She wasn’t there. She didn’t see the Yunho I have. Coming to think of it…I don’t think anyone had from around here, seeing as everyone was flocking towards him and acting so freely with him. His laughter carried down the hallway and it was soft, his cheeks slightly rosy as a girl leaned too close to him and he averted his gaze shyly. He was void of all the accessories he had been wearing last night and his clothes were what I was used to seeing him wear on a daily basis. He kept shifting from one foot to another as a guy threw his arm around Yunho’s shoulders as the two giggled about something, Yunho covering his mouth before whispering something to him back with a cheeky smile. The image of him holding a gun suddenly flashed behind my eyes and I jumped, sucking in a sharp breath of air. My friend looked at me like I was crazy and I averted my eyes from Yunho, looking at her like I have seen a ghost.

“There’s something very wrong with that guy, I’m telling you.” I muttered as I grabbed her wrist and pulled her in the opposite direction, scared of facing Yunho after his weird personality shifts.

“You sound super crazy right now, bestie.” I rolled my eyes and huffed as my best friend taunted, cackling when she saw the discontentment on my face.

And the days passed just like that. Jeong Yunho, wearing every existing bright color, avoiding eye contact when he felt shy and hiding behind his hand when he laughed a little too hard. His cheeks had a flush to them constantly and he would carefully arrange his wavy bangs against his forehead. It was confusing. I was becoming convinced with each passing day that what had happened that night was just a fever dream, and that it was so real that my mind decided to believe it. Perhaps I was lucid dreaming or something, it wouldn’t be the first time. Two weeks had gone by since my strange encounter with Yunho and I have finally come to terms with the fact that maybe what happened wasn’t even real. It couldn’t have been, not when Yunho didn’t even glance my way once. Not when he remained the bright and lovely popular boy and I…continued almost missing my deadlines, which meant I was coped up in the library currently, searching for the book I needed without having much luck in finding it. I was too lazy to ask the librarian as I would need to descend the stairs, so I instead grew more and more frustrated as I stomped around between the bookcases. I was surely disturbing someone, but I didn’t care. Eyes set on the books, one title caught my attention and I stopped, hoping that it was the book I needed. It was at eye level and I pulled it back just enough to be able to see the cover and title of it. I felt like banging my head against the shelf when I realized it wasn’t the book I needed, and with a very loud sigh/groan, I pushed it back harshly, almost screaming when a human head was casually leaning against the bookshelf next to the book I had just examined. My heart beat like crazy as I gaped at Yunho, his warm eyes twinkling with amusement as his eyebrows were slightly furrowed. His baby pink shirt hugged his frame messily as the collar fell a little low, showing off the smooth skin of left shoulder, and his dark green cargo pants were an interesting choice to wear. Yeah, this was the Jeong Yunho I knew. Dressing quirky and looking almost like an oversized puppy as his lips were pushed into a pout. I couldn’t find any words to say so I just scrambled through my brain for something, pushing my hair behind my ears as Yunho continued staring. It was becoming too much, his gaze.

“What?” I managed to say, still at a loss and not knowing how I should approach him.

“Hi.” His lips suddenly pulled up into the brightest smile I had ever seen, and his eyes twinkled with so much warmth that I took a step back. I’m going crazy, aren’t I?

“Hi.” I willed myself to greet him back, taking another step back as Yunho took one towards me, smile still on his face. He didn’t say anything else as he proceeded to come closer and closer, making me chuckle nervously as I continued putting distance between the two of us, not for long though. My back soon ran into the bookshelf and I internally whined as it cut into my back sharply. Yunho came closer, caging me in between the bookshelf and his body, making my heart somersault as I looked up at him confused, but intrigued. He was still smiling, still looking as friendly as ever, still the bright and well-liked guy from our university. Suddenly, his arms raised and were placed on each side of my head, slightly above. Yunho went and leaned down a bit, crooking an eyebrow as my eyes widened and body shrunk against the hard shelf. His musky cologne wrapped around me once again, and the events of that night flashed before my eyes without a warning.

“What are you doing?!” I whispered, sounding panicked as Yunho looked almost confused by my reaction. Almost as if it didn’t make sense that I was reaction to him like this. But I had every reason to, I can’t be crazy.

“I’m looking for a book,” He said with a light tone, expression calm, “this is the medical section. You know I’m studying to become a doctor, right?”

“No.” My answer was instant; I had no idea what his major was. I only heard rumors about how great he is, not about what he does or studies here.

“Oh, now you know.” Yunho said surprised and looked above my head, grinning happily as he reached out. What the hell was happening?

“You’re majoring in architecture, right?” I nodded wordlessly, confused as to how he knew once again something about me. I never told him. Just like with my name.

“So, did the librarian tell you this too about me?” I asked, sounding a little accusatory, as I raised an eyebrow at Yunho. He chuckled and shook his head, looking down at me in amusement.

“Not quite, I figured it out when I saw you leaving class a good while ago.” Right. He saw me leaving class. Sure. My eyes narrowed at him and I licked my lips, about to slip away and go on my merry way as this whole interaction was weird and confusing, but as if Yunho read my mind, he stepped even closer, the front of our boots touching. I looked up at him alarmed, eyes widening as Yunho lowered one arm, holding a book.

“This is so weird,” I muttered to myself, feeling uncomfortable, “Is there something wrong with you?”

My question was quite offensive and I didn’t think it through before I said it out loud, but it didn’t seem to affect Yunho as he started giggling quietly, eyes becoming smaller as his cheeks flushed. How was this the same man from that night? Did he have a twin or something? Why would his name be Yunho too? Was he fucking around with me? Or did he just have multiple personalities?

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me, angel.” My body tensed at the nickname and I watched as Yunho composed himself, and yet, the Yunho suddenly caging me against the shelf wasn’t the same Yunho from just a second ago. The friendliness and warmth slipped from his face as his eyes slightly narrowed, darkening as a smirk appeared on his lips instead of the cute smile he directed at everyone. My heart started beating faster as he bit his lower lip, leaning down even more to be eye level with me, making my breath catch in my throat, “Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“Something very wrong.” I managed to whisper as Yunho chuckled darkly, the knuckles of his free hand suddenly grazing against my cheek. I flinched, but didn’t pull away as his eyes ran over my face. The way his wavy hair fell in his eyes made them look sharper. He oozed danger and my mind screamed at me to high tail it out of there, yet my feet remained planted.

“There’s nothing wrong with someone who has a colorful personality, angel,” Yunho’s deep voice rang through my ears as he leaned in to whisper in my left ear, goosebumps erupting on my skin, “Have you told anyone about our encounter from that night?”

I quickly shook my head no and Yunho smirked, pulling back and gripping my chin tightly, yanking me forward and knocking the wind out of my lungs, “Good girl, keep doing that. I’m afraid something might happen to you if you decide to blabber on about it to someone.”

I shuddered as his piercing gaze kept me locked in, a whisper barely passing between my lips, “Like what?”

The sinister look which crossed Yunho’s face felt like a punch to my gut and I suddenly remembered the gun he owned. He’d shoot me. He’d kill me. Of course he would, something told me he wouldn’t hesitate or think twice about it.

“I would have to punish you—” He bit his lower lip as he paused for a second, making me realize I started shaking, “And not in the way I would love to.”

“Fuck.” I muttered, gripping his wrist and lightly pushing against it. His words were meant to be threatening, and they were, I was shaking after all…but his words also did something to me as my stomach twisted and body shivered, eyes subsequentially falling onto his red and plush lips. Yunho’s smirk widened and he leaned so incredibly close that I could feel his breath hitting my lips, his skin seemingly flawless from up close. My fingers closed around his wrist tighter as my back melted into the bookshelf behind me.

“Let’s keep it our little secret for now, angel.” His thumb swept against the skin of my chin, my face flaming at the motion, “And I shall reward you if you’re a good girl.”

“How?” I whispered, looking into Yunho’s dark eyes.

“You shall wait and see.” He winked and before I could think more about his words, he was gone just as quickly as he had come. I was left blinking confused at nothing and struggling to breathe regularly as Yunho’s warm, and big, hand left my skin burning where he had touched. What have I indirectly gotten myself involved into?

Things happened the same way like the first time after my strange encounter with Yunho in the library. He didn’t look my way, he didn’t acknowledge me, he didn’t speak to me for at least a good two weeks. It was weird, everything he was doing. I had so many unanswered questions, but I pushed them to the back of my mind and hoped that whatever weird thing going on between Yunho and I would stop for good now. I didn’t want to get tangled up in something which felt so unsure and dangerous. I still haven’t forgotten the gun Yunho owned nor the conversation between him and that Chan guy. Even a dumb person would’ve understood that there was something illegal, at least, going on between the two of them and I didn’t want to get involved. However, the radio silence didn’t last for long as it was another Thursday and I was closing up the small convenience store I was currently working at. I had the evening shift again; the clock was close to hitting midnight and it was snowing heavily outside. I sighed when I realized I would have to walk twenty minutes just to get home. There were no signs of snow half an hour ago, it came out of the blue and I watched as a group of teenagers ran past the convenience store laughing loudly and having a snowball fight. I couldn’t share their joy as I shrugged on my coat, the weather had been nice today, I thought it wouldn’t get cold and thus abandoned my thick winter jacket, which I came to regret now. I switched off the lights and braced myself for the cold as I pushed open the door and instantly shuddered. There was a freezing chill in the air and it clung to my body as I quickly tightened the scarf around my neck, at least I had half a mind to bring one with myself. I struggled for a few seconds with the lock, it's been acting up for a while now but the owner didn’t bother to fix it, until I heard a click and pushed against the door, making sure I have truly locked it. I whirled around to stalk off towards the bus stop, with little hope that the last bus hadn’t went by already. However, I was quickly forced to stop by the sight in front of me. Yunho, painfully underdressed for the current weather, stood leaning against a black massive car. It was an SUV, a very expensive looking one.

“Evening, angel.” My jaw shouldn’t have almost hit the pavement, but I couldn’t help but gape at him. What was he doing here? Why was he here? Was that his car? How? Was he rich? Now that I come to think of it, I have no idea what Yunho does outside of university or the type of family he comes from. The sudden realization of knowing exactly nothing about him besides the persona he paints himself as was startling as a sly grin crossed Yunho’s features. It made my stomach flip.

“What are you doing?” I managed to ask, reluctantly walking closer to him. Yunho pushed his hands inside the pockets of his leather jacket, which looked thicker than the one he wore on the night he had to save me from those two creeps. His jeans were ripped and black and a very tight, form fitting, white shirt clung onto his well-defined body. With a black baseball cap over his wavy hair he looked extremely handsome underneath the street light, I had to stop myself from letting my eyes wander all over his body once again.

“Saw how hard it started to snow,” Yunho spoke up casually, smirking when I stopped a few feet away from him, “Figured you might just take the shortcut again, so, I’m here to pick you up.”

“No, you’re not.” My answer rushed through my lips instantly and I looked at him startled, slightly taking a step back as Yunho pushed off his car, “I am perfectly capable of walking home and besides—I might still catch the last bus.”

“It went by while you were still locking up, angel, just accept my offer and stop being so stubborn.” Yunho sounded slightly irritated as he walked closer, head lowered so that I was able to see his eyes from this angle. They were narrowed and I gulped, realizing that he wasn’t playing nice nor would act goofy like at university, this was the weird and intimidating version of Yunho.

“Excuse me if I’m hesitant in accepting your offer, Yunho,” I snapped, slightly fed up with the constant whiplash this guy was giving me, “But I have no actual idea who you are and so far you’ve been acting like a stalker. You know my name, you know my major, you randomly show up when I’m in trouble and then you walk me home despite my complaints. You proceed to act completely different than the guy I’m used to seeing at university and you have strange conversations with weird people who are threatening you and are calling me yours like I’m simply just a piece to be put on display and you—you have a gun! And you’ve threatened someone with it. So, yeah, I don’t exactly want to get in your car for you to—drive me home? Or kill me. Or do something else to me.”

“If I wanted to do something to you or harm you I would’ve already done so, Y/N, I had plenty of chances for that.” My jaw hung open once again at Yunho’s instant reply, heart hammering at his admission. Is this seriously the only thing he’s taken from my rant? Which felt good to finally get off my chest, but it seemed to make no difference as Yunho shook his head lightly and suddenly invaded my personal space, taking me completely off-guard, “Who I am at university and who I am outside of it might seem like two completely different people to you, but it’s me. I’m not always happy, and goofy, and I’m not always in a good mood. I just don’t like showing the real me around people.”

“I am people, so what’s different?” I scoffed, glaring up at him, “We don’t even know each other so I don’t understand why you feel the need to drop your act around me.”

“Would you prefer me acting all fake, then?” Yunho’s tone was harsh and his face read displeasure as I allowed my eyes to soak in his expression. Would I prefer that? It was the Yunho I was accustomed to, but would I like that?

“I don’t know,” I managed to mutter out, averting my eyes when Yunho’s dark gaze became too much, “I guess I’m just used to that version of you and this—feels weird, perhaps scary.”

Yunho suddenly sighed and his shoulders slightly dropped as he looked up at the sky, his smooth skin glinting under the streetlamp, “I’m sorry if I scared you, that wasn’t my intention.”

I chewed on my bottom lip as Yunho looked at me again, our gazes connecting. He was sincere, his eyes were shinning with honesty and an almost innocent like gleam, just like the one I was used to seeing. I hummed wordlessly and looked away, feeling slightly more at ease in his presence. He just sighed quietly and I heard shuffling before I felt the weight of a big hand pressing against the top of my head. I looked up at Yunho wide eyed as he started patting my hair, almost as if he was flicking something out of it. The snowflakes, probably. My cheeks flamed at his action.

“Will you let me drive you home, then?” Yunho asked again, voice softer this time and features relaxed, “I don’t want you walking around late at night and in this weather.”

“Alright,” I gave in, clearing my throat as Yunho suddenly grinned widely, “But you should be worried more about yourself, you’re barely wearing anything.”

It made Yunho chuckle as he headed for the passenger seat’s side and opened the door for me. I muttered a small thank you as I carefully slid inside.

“I’m rarely ever cold.” Yunho said with a cheeky wink before closing the door and jogging around to the driver’s side. I allowed myself a quick check-out of the car, eyes widening when I saw the emblem on the wheel. I was sitting inside a Maserati Levante. Just how did Yunho afford this car? The seats were of black leather and it was definitely heated as I felt my body warm up quickly as the engine has been left on. Yunho grinned as he slid inside and quickly buckled his seatbelt, reminding me to do the same as he put on the blinker, signaling that he would drive off now. The car slowly started rolling, pulling away from the store as I gazed out the window, feeling slightly awkward that I was now enclosed in such a small space with Yunho. I took a quick peek at him and watched him gripping the steering wheel lazily, hair framing his face as tonight it wasn’t as wavy as usually. His eyes were set on the road and he licked his lips before glancing at me, making me quickly look back outside the window, hating the way my cheeks instantly flushed. And as we drove by the bus stop, my eyes widened when I spotted the bus which would’ve taken me home.

“You said the bus went by already!” I exclaimed and turned to look at Yunho slightly offended.

“Oh,” He hummed but by the smugness coating his face I knew he had lied on purpose, “my bad, thought I had seen your bus.”

I scoffed and shook my head, melting into the warm seat as I glared ahead, ignoring the fluttering feeling of butterflies in my stomach at the thought that Yunho only lied because he wanted to drive me home. Perhaps he wasn’t so awful at all times.

Despite me feeling like Yunho brushed over my outburst that night, he seemed to change a bit. He started gradually approaching me at university and even hung out with me during our shared lunch breaks. He also started stopping by the convenience store whenever he had free time and I soon came to know that he lived just a few blocks away from it. Which was a surprise because I have been assuming he lived in some fancy rich neighborhood due to the car he was driving. Nobody really seemed to question our suddenly blooming friendship, although I felt like we still had a long way to go, and Yunho also stopped being so mysterious. He still didn’t answer all of my questions and often changed the subject when I asked about that first night, so I stopped asking about it after a while. I figured that I might get him to tell me at some point, and if not, I could always start asking around. People loved to gossip and maybe they would know something about this Chan guy who had called Yunho a few times while we were hanging out, but he always declined his calls. Tonight was supposed to be a chill night, but my best friend decided that she has had enough of staying at home every Friday and thus dragged us to a house party not far from our university. It was a half an hour walk away from my flat, so we opted to walk and just grab a cab on our way back. The house was large and packed with people as we made our way inside and I sighed at the sight of so many familiar faces. Almost everyone from our university was here and I realized I was tricked into coming to a party organized for our university specifically. My best friend just giggled as I have her a glare, already hating the fact that I had to stay here for hours and hours as she was in the mood to party. The only savior I found at the moment was alcohol, so the two of us made our way into the kitchen, both grabbing some beer from the fridge. Apparently, my best friend knew the host of the party and got us invited easily.

“I really needed this.” My best friend said as she threw her head back, downing half of her beer in one go. I raised my eyebrows at her as I sipped on mine casually.

“I can see that.” I chuckled and allowed my eyes to wander around the kitchen, taking in the faces. A few people above our grade were gathered around the sink, laughing about something and pointing at something. I wasn’t further interested, so I averted my eyes and noticed two friends of Yunho’s. They were standing in the corner and laughing about something as the taller one had his phone out. My staring must’ve been insistent as he looked up and we made eye contact, a smile appearing on his lips. He smiled and waved as he called us over. Due to Yunho and I hanging out more often lately, he was quick to introduce me to his friend group. They were a nice bunch but a bit too energetic and happy for my liking. My best friend, however, was totally into their vibe and would beg me to hang out with them. It was fine, I knew she wanted to make some new friends and these guys were nice and…handsome.

“Hi!” Mingi was quick to greet us happily and I smiled at him, waving at Seonghwa as my best friend went and hugged him. The two seemed to click instantly, it was nice to see.

“Was it you who urged Sooyoung to come to this party?” I asked Mingi accusingly and he laughed as he looked down.

“It was actually her who gave us the idea of coming here tonight.” I hummed and threw a knowing look at my best friend as she didn’t bother focusing on Mingi and I, already wrapped up in a conversation with Seonghwa.

“I see, I should’ve known.” I chuckled and Mingi nodded while putting his phone away. It was a little unusual that these two were here without Yunho, but I didn’t question it. I knew he wasn’t a big fan of parties and besides, he didn’t tell me he would be coming. Therefore I didn’t expect to see him here.

“Did you finish your project?” I asked Mingi, remembering him complain about it two days ago. Mingi’s shoulder slumped and he started pouting as he stole my beer swiftly.

“Almost, I have to design the garden and then I’m done.” Mingi was a landscape architecture major and he was always busy with projects, barely out of the house if it wasn’t for Seonghwa and Yunho dragging him to places. He was quite dedicated to his work and it was admirable. Especially when I could barely find any inspiration to do my assignments. Whenever we shared a few of our classes I was amazed by his knowledge and drive to learn even more.

“That’s good, you’ve got this, Mingi.” I gave him an encouraging smile and he chuckled, looking at me knowingly.

“So, did you start your design?” I fake laughed and took a swing of my beer after taking it back from Mingi.

“You know me, I’ll do it two or three days before the deadline.”

“At this point I’m afraid you’ll fail.” Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed and I chuckled, shrugging.

“Don’t worry, I function best under pressure.” I saluted him mockingly and Mingi chuckled, soon our attention on Seonghwa as him and Sooyoung approached us.

“I really want to dance,” Seonghwa said, drunkenly gazing at Mingi, “Are you coming?”

Mingi just sighed but stood up, throwing an arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders, “Of course, I’m coming. Someone needs to make sure you don’t trip over your own legs.”

Sooyoung and I chuckled as we followed after the two boys despite me not being too fond of the idea. I didn’t feel like dancing tonight, but I didn’t want to leave Sooyoung alone, and besides, I could see it in Mingi’s eyes that he didn’t want to be alone with the two. Whatever was going on between them, which both were denying, was pretty obvious.

The music was loud in the bigger room compared to the kitchen and I looked around, realizing it must’ve been a sort of library hence the bookcases on both sides of the room were filled with books. My heart broke a bit for the books, I could only hope no one was stupid enough to damage them. Otherwise the room was cleared up and there was a table with a mixing console on it, the DJ standing behind it and playing trendy songs everyone seemed to enjoy. The bas thrummed against my chest and I downed my beer in one go before I pushed through the crowd, making way for myself and my friends. Somewhere in the middle we found a good spot and formed a circle starting to dance.

I couldn’t tell how much time passed before I needed to use the restroom, but just as I went to tell Mingi I would be leaving for a few minutes, he leaned in to tell me that he needed some air. And so, after telling Seonghwa and Sooyoung where we were headed, Mingi and I took off hand in hand towards the exit. We agreed on meeting in the kitchen in around ten minutes before heading back to our friends, and so we parted, going on our way. The bathroom was in the far back of the house and I was thankful as the music didn’t reach here, I could finally hear my thoughts. The air was gradually better too compared to the suffocating heath in the library like room. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long to make it inside the bathroom and I was quick in doing my business, washing my hands thoroughly before splashing some cold water on my face, tapping it against my flaming skin. Perhaps I should join Mingi outside for a second before grabbing another drink. I huffed and smoothed down the top of my hair, baby hairs all over the place, before I unlocked the door and left the quiet bathroom. The hallways had no lights but it was fine as the living room was well lit up and it poured out here too. There was a staircase leading upstairs, but it was barricaded off and I knew not to go upstairs even if I wanted to. Just as I went to walk past the staircase, someone collided into my shoulder, knocking me slightly backwards. I gasped in surprise and looked back, surprised to see a slightly familiar face. The guy was younger, and he quickly apologized before a look of recognition crossed his features. Despite it being almost two months ago, I remembered his name. Chan. The guy Yunho threatened with a gun. I gulped and accepted his apology, about to walk off when he spoke up again.

“Don’t I know you?” He asked with narrowed eyes and I cursed silently, facing him again.

“Uh, barely.” I offered with a small smile and Chan hummed, eyebrows furrowing.

“Weren’t you with Yunho once?” So he remembered too, huh.

“Chan, right?” I raised an eyebrow and suddenly the guy was grinning and extending his hand towards me to shake.

“Knew it,” He said with a chuckle as I reluctantly shook his hand, “I don’t know your name though.”

“It’s Y/N.” I introduced myself and Chan smiled, his grip lingering for a second longer than necessary. It unsettled me as I cleared my throat and very obviously made to leave, but Chan seemed like he wanted to talk a little bit more.

“I had no idea you knew Jeonghan.” My eyebrows raised at the name and I thought for a second until I realized he was the host.

“I don’t, my best friend does though.” I explained and Chan hummed, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

“Now that I come to think of it,” He took a step forward and I willed myself to not move backwards, “Yunho never mentioned you again after that night.”

Oh, well…that didn’t feel nice to know. I thought we were sort of friends by now, but maybe Yunho needed more time. Our relationship dynamic was still weird and most of times I didn’t know where to put us, so maybe Yunho was feeling the same way. Or maybe there was something dangerous about this guy and Yunho just simply avoided talking about me in his presence. Our encounter that night felt almost fresh in my memories and I willed myself to not think about the gun pointed at this younger guy.

“He must have a reason, then.” I found myself answering with a cold smile, ready to excuse myself finally, “My friend is waiting for me—”

“Just because he doesn’t mention you doesn’t mean we don’t know about you, Y/N.” His sinister smile and cold tone sent a chill down my spine and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at Chan, “Do you have a tattoo?”

That was a very random question, one that took me off guard as my eyebrows raised, “Uh, no, I—”

“What a pleasant sight, Lee Chan.” A sharp tone cut me off and I turned my head to see Yunho approaching us in all of his tall glory. His glare was sharp and body stiff as he came to a stop next to me, instantly pressing his warm palm against the small of my back. It made me straighten up slightly as I gazed at Yunho’s profile, surprised to see him here.

“Thought you weren’t coming, Yunho.” Chan said with a chuckle, eyes falling between the two of us and the non-existent space between our bodies as Yunho pressed up against me, his musky cologne invading my senses.

“Maybe you should check on your friend, Chan, he might be unable to walk for a week or two.” The dark smirk which crossed Yunho’s lips made me gulp, and I watched as Chan’s expression fell, suddenly it felt like we were back to that chilly night out on the street.

“You son of a bitch,” Chan hissed and marched up to Yunho, who didn’t even as a little as flinched, “What did you do to Hansol?”

“Nothing he won’t survive.” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked up at Yunho, who seemed to be unbothered by my piercing gaze. Chan hissed under his breath and with one lasting glare quickly stormed off, grabbing for his phone as he raced towards the front door. I released a breath I didn’t know I had been holding just as Yunho faced me, and I took in his attire in surprise. His black long-sleeved blouse was tight and was unclasped down to his chest, blank ink peeking through from underneath on his left pectoral. His outfit was completed by black leather pants and his black hair, which fell messily against his forehead. I was snapped out of my staring the second I felt Yunho caging me in against the railing of the staircase, big palm still pressing against the small of my back, eyes very slowly dragging up from his exposed milky chest to his chocolate warm brown eyes, which were narrowed and carried a hint of frustration.

“What did he want?” His voice was low and it brought a flush to my cheeks as I looked up at him, suddenly all too aware of the lack of space between us.

“Nothing much.” I muttered with a shrug, but Yunho didn’t seem to believe me as he lowered his head, eyes boring into mine. His gaze made my skin crawl and my fingers twitched as I placed my hands behind my back, doing everything in me I could to focus on his eyes and not on his cherry red plush lips, which were too close to my face all of a sudden.

“Don’t lie to me.” His right knuckles grazed against the skin of my cheek and I gulped as something coiled in my stomach. Was I this transparent? He could read me so easily.

“He just asked if I have a tattoo or something.” I answered after a beat of silence and Yunho’s eyebrows slightly furrowed as I dared to peek at his chest again, the ink more visible because of his stance. The collar of his shirt fell lower and I could make out a thick line which went in a circle and the tip of a letter, perhaps A?

“And what did you say?” His forefinger was suddenly underneath my chin as he tipped my head back, pulling my eyes away from his chest. I blushed furiously because of the amusement in Yunho’s eyes and the wide smirk on his lips, I was caught staring. His voice was low and breathy and I bit my lower lip for a second, trying to ignore his proximity and scent as his head seemed to be even closer to mine right now.

“No—nothing,” I exhaled and licked my lips, “you got here when I was answering him.”

“Good girl.” My legs shouldn’t have almost given out at his praise, but my mind wasn’t clear anymore. Yunho’s scent and proximity were intoxicating and I sure as hell wasn’t drunk from one beer, but everything about Yunho made me feel like it. I don’t know when it happened, but I couldn’t pull my eyes off Yunho whenever we were hanging out. And when we were at university, I was just like the others, flocking towards his bright and warm aura, desperate for his attention at times. When it was just the two of us, I yearned for his warmth and dangerous eyes, often breathless when his voice dropped to chastise me for something. When we hung out with our circle of close friends, I wanted his undivided attention on myself only. I had come to realize that Jeong Yunho was insanely good-looking and his mysterious aura was nothing but a little spark which made him even more irresistible.

“Wanna get out of here?” I heard him asking once I was done daydreaming, “I know you don’t like parties.”

I nodded wordlessly and as Yunho slowly, without breaking eye contact, pulled away I almost chased after him, hands balling up into fists in order to prevent myself of doing something I might regret later. There wasn’t a label to our relationship, but friends certainly didn’t want to fuck each other, therefore I needed to keep myself in check and control my desires.

After letting our friends know that Yunho and I would be leaving we got our jackets and went up to Yunho’s car. It was slightly dirty, which made me wonder where he had been as he had a habit of keeping his car crystal clean, even just a speck of dust made him wash it. The car ride was quicker than I expected as we flew through the quiet city, lights blurring at the speed Yunho was driving. He wasn’t a reckless driver, but it seemed like he was eager to get home. I couldn’t blame him, there was nothing better than the feeling of finally reaching home after a long and tiring day. I could imagine Yunho’s had been the same after he texted me in the morning that he had some business outside of the city and wouldn’t attend his classes, therefore we wouldn’t meet up. It was a surprise that he even made it to the party. It wasn’t the first time Yunho and I hung out in his apartment, but it was the first time I had come here so late and without a real purpose. Usually we huddled together to study, Yunho’s determination finally rubbing off on me to do to my assignments in time or when our friend group wanted to hang out and have a chill night.

After Yunho and I got settled, he went and grabbed a bottle of red wine, saying he needed it after the day he had. I didn’t complain as I watched him from the couch, body turned around and eyes running all over his frame. The clothes he wore did an amazing job at showing off his forms and I couldn’t help it but linger on his shoulders and waist as he had his back to me, grabbing around his counter while he had the wine in front of him. He popped it open without much struggle and then poured some red wine in two glasses, putting the bottle away. I watched as he turned around and leaned his hips against the counter, crossing one arm over his chest as he grabbed a glass and raised it to his lips, closing his eyes. He took a small sniff of the beverage before taking a long sip, letting out a content sigh. The image shouldn’t have made the hairs on my skin stand, yet all I could do was watch and gulp, mind blank until Yunho’s dark eyes snapped open and he smiled. It was mischievous as he spoke up.

“Won’t you get yours?” He pointed at the second glass and I hummed, wondering whether I should mix beer and wine, but it’s been a few hours since I last had beer. Besides, I was feeling fine. It shouldn’t do any damage. So, I pushed off the couch and approached him carefully, feeling fidgety under his sharp gaze. His eyes followed my every step as I stopped next to him and grabbed the glass, copying him. I sniffed it before I took a careful sip of it, the sweet taste exploding in my mouth. I hummed and took a bigger sip, appreciative of its taste. Yunho was smiling as he sipped his, and we remained standing like that as I tried to find anything to look at which wasn’t Yunho. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was getting too much and I felt like I needed to break it, so I spoke up, “You never told me you had a tattoo.”

Yunho eyebrows slightly raised, almost surprised that I knew, until he glanced down at himself and chuckled, “Ah, I forgot this blouse was low cut.”

“It’s not low cut,” I snickered, “You’re just wearing it like that.”

“Are you saying I should button up?” He asked with a playful smirk and I just smiled while shrugging. If he did that perhaps I would stop staring, but I wasn’t about to say that to him.

“So…does it mean anything?” I asked nonchalantly, having now an excuse to look at his exposed chest as Yunho glanced down too. He remained silent as he looked up, eyes searching my face for a few seconds before he lowered his glass on the counter.

“Not one you’re expecting to hear.” He said lowly and I raised an eyebrow as he suddenly stepped closer, looking down at me with a serious expression and darkening eyes, “Do you want to know?”

I gulped and busied myself with the glass I had in my hand as I looked down at it, pursing my lips in thought. I was trying to ignore the rapid beating of my heart but Yunho took away my only distraction as he took the glass from my hands and placed it on the counter next to his, now I was forced to look at him.

“I guess.” I muttered, hoping he couldn’t hear the shake of my voice. His scent was once again all around me and it was hard to focus on anything he was saying.

“But if I tell you…” He took a step forward, making me step back and collide into the counter, “and you tell anyone…”

My body tensed as he reached forward and pressed his thumb against my lower lip, eyes focused on my lips, “I will have to kill you, angel.”

I gulped as I shuddered, and Yunho lightly dragged my lower lip down, licking his lips as we looked at each other. His gaze was challenging and dark, lips about to break into a sneer as I was scared but intrigued, “I won’t tell anyone.”

“How can I know for sure?” Was he testing me? His voice dropped to an almost whisper and he cocked his head to the side, eyebrows raised almost mockingly, “You have a vengeful personality, who knows what you’ll blabber on about if I happen to hurt you.”

“Don’t hurt me then.” I snapped and Yunho chuckled, but there was nothing amusing about it.

“Are you reckless or simply dumb?” He was taunting me and I didn’t like it. I grabbed his wrist and glared at him, pulling his hand back and thumb off my lips.

“That’s some nerve coming from someone who was everywhere I went and knows everything about me without actually knowing me.” Yunho’s lips pulled up into an amused grin at the way I snapped at him, nose scrunched in annoyance.

“I’m in a gang,” He stepped impossibly close and placed both hands on the counter on both sides of body, “A very dangerous gang, the tattoo is to signify where I belong to.”

I gulped, slightly thrown off. I was expecting many reasons to answer the enigma around Yunho, but I didn’t exactly envision him being involved into gang activities or the mafia, even. Was he just simply not saying? Wouldn’t be the first time he lied to me.

“Why did Chan ask if I have a tattoo?” My voice was hard and I tried not to shake when I felt Yunho’s large hands gripping my waist. His hold was firm, like he was afraid I would run away.

“Because,” Yunho licked his lips as he lowered his head so I didn’t have to crane my neck up so high, “if you’re mine you have to get the tattoo as well.”

“But I’m not yours.” I quickly said as I tried to process everything and ignore the way Yunho’s grip tightened around my hips and jaw clenched, “And I don’t want to have a tattoo.”

“Then you won’t have one,” Yunho’s tongue peeked out as he liked his lips swiftly, his eyes glued onto my lips, “But you are mine, Y/N.”

Before I could ask him since when, Yunho closed the gap between us and pressed his plush lips against mine. I didn’t mean to flinch, but it was unexpected and rough as his hands on my waist pushed me up onto the counter, easing the height difference a little between us. I kissed back when I felt him about to pull back, probably thrown off by my lack of response, and Yunho was quick to smash his lips against mine with a fever, setting a hasty and messy rhythm as my head was tilted back and arms circled around his shoulders. It was everything I have envisioned and yet nothing like it. His lips were plush and warm yet rough and relentless as he bit at my lower lip, almost as if he was trying to inhale the whole of me. His scent was the only thing I could smell around us and my brain was fogged up as Yunho’s lean body pressed into mine, pushing me flushed against himself by placing his hand on my back. My legs parted wider, making more space for Yunho as one of my hands traveled towards his hair, gripping at the black wavy strands firmly. His warmth was overwhelming and it made me breathless as his large hand wrapped around my neck as if he needed something to hold onto. My lungs were screaming for air and I pulled back once it got too much, lightheaded as I leaned forward, teeth attaching against the soft skin of Yunho’s neck. His chest was falling and rising rapidly, just as breathless as I was feeling, the hand from my neck traveling to my nape as I pressed open mouthed kisses against his skin, lips trailing down to his collarbone. Yunho groaned when I bit lightly at it, teasing and licking, before I was pulled back and forcefully met with lips against my own. It didn’t take long for Yunho to push his tongue against my lips, asking for permission. I opened up without hesitation, letting him take the lead as his wet tongue licked against mine, humming, the vibrations traveling through my whole body as I pulled on the smaller strands of his hair. Yunho tasted like the red wine he just had, sweet and so intoxicating that I couldn’t get enough of him. His tongue explored my mouth as my hips bucked against him and I wasn’t surprised to find him just as affected as I was feeling. I could feel him through his leather pants and the friction was much needed against my throbbing core as I grinded against him once again, catching his lower lip between my teeth as he went to pull back. Yunho’s eyes were the darkest I had ever seen them and his cheeks were lightly flushed as he grabbed my nape firmly, jaw clenching and lips plump from the kissing.

“Bedroom, right now.” His voice was raspy and it sent a chill down my spine as I quickly clung onto him, legs firm around his waist as he walked us to his bedroom, large hands holding me up by my ass and allowing me to grind against him as Yunho groaned and nipped at my lower lip until we were standing in his dark bedroom. He carefully lowered me and onto the ground and I was quick to get rid of my jeans and shirt, helping Yunho in undoing the zipper of his leather pants as he had gotten rid of his blouse. I allowed myself to stare unabashedly at his body, taking in his lean but muscular form as he towered over me, stomach well defined and thighs thick. It was a sight worthy for drooling and I snapped out of it when Yunho started walking me backwards, not expecting me to palm him through his boxers. He sucked in a harsh breath and allowed me to feel him up and massage him before I was pushed down onto the bed by my shoulders. I scooted back before he crawled towards me and leaned down to press kisses against my neck and shoulder, tongue flattening against the flush skin of my collarbones before he sucked hard at a patch of skin, making me groan at the sting. His kisses didn’t stop there as he kissed down between my breasts, biting at the skin before he continued, all the way down to my stomach. I was panting and itching to grip onto his hair, but his face was in front of mine in an instant and he kissed me breathless once again. My nails dug into his back as my hands roamed over it, mapping every flaw of his skin, soaking in his warmth. Before I could register it, his fingers were ghosting over my thigh and slowly itching closer to my panties. I groaned into his mouth as he yanked them down, eyes opened as Yunho pulled back just slightly, hot breath hitting my face as one finger slowly slipped inside my wet hole. I gasped at the feeling and Yunho groaned, lips pressing against my cheek as he pushed himself up by one hand near my head. He slowly started thrusting it in and out, making my eyebrows furrow as he dragged the movement out, not waiting long to add another long finger. I grabbed his arm as my toes curled and hips lifted off the soft cover of the bed, trying to meet his lazy thrusts. They weren’t enough and they made my skin burn as my other hand tangled into his hair.

“Please, Yunho,” I whispered out, moan choked back as his thumb pressed against my clit, stomach coiling at the added sensation, “Faster.”

His teeth bit into the skin of my jaw, not hard enough to leave a bruise as he slightly picked up his pace, fingers curling against my walls and making my back arch off the bed as he rubbed harsher and faster against my clit, fingers thrusting in and out. A knot was forming in my stomach as more sound left my lips, sharp exhales and broken moans as Yunho’s fingers reached the spot which made my back arch off the bed, my own hips picking up its pace as I chased for an orgasm.

“Such a good girl,” Yunho rasped in my ear, making me moan as his finger grazed the spot again, “you were so patient for me.”

“Yunho.” Our eyes connected and I pulled his head closer by the hand I had tangled in his hair, “Please—”

“Not yet.” He bit my lower lip as his hand stilled, making me whine as my walls clenched down against his fingers, every nerve in my body burning. I tried to move my hips despite it, but Yunho’s fingers quickly were pulled out from where I needed him most and I watched helplessly as he sat back, the tent in his boxers obvious. He proceeded to pull my panties all the way down before getting rid of his own boxers, pumping himself as his head fell back. I watched with hungry eyes as his size came as no surprise, matching the massivity of his body. He reached over my head, holding a package as he opened it, putting on the condom before he hovered over my body. For a second he didn’t move and my skin tingled in anticipation as I reached my arms around his shoulders, pulling his hot body against mine, whispering in his ear.

“Yunho, just fuck me already.” I didn’t expect him to moan and before I could blink, his tip was at my entrance, slowly pushing in. My mouth opened as I clenched my eyes shut, surprised at the burn as he stretched me out more and more as he slid inside. He was bigger than anyone I was with before and I needed a moment to adjust to his size as Yunho pressed kisses all over my face, biting my earlobe.

“You can’t tell anyone.” He said lowly, and despite our predicament I heard the threat in his words.

“Which part?” I questioned despite knowing what he was talking about, hand trailing down his smooth back.

“The gang part.” Yunho clarified, as if I needed it, lightly thrusting up. I gasped and gripped his sides, walls clenching around him, making him groan.

“I won’t, I won’t, just—” My voice broke off as he did the same again, smirk on his lips, “Move, please, Yunho.”

“As you wish, angel.” He whispered in my ear before pulling out almost all the way and slamming back inside, making me gasp loudly as I didn’t expect it. Yunho’s smirk stayed glued to his lips as he did it again, ripping a loud whine from between my lips, nails digging into his skin as he set an excruciatingly slow rhythm. It did no good but rile me up and make me reach around for anything to hold onto as my body flamed, walls clenching more around him, desperate for more friction. But Yunho seemed to enjoy the desperate state I was in as he chuckled, and suddenly, I felt his big hands bringing mine together, pushed above my head as he pinned my wrists together and pushed them down harshly into the mattress. He suddenly was moving, getting up onto his knees and sitting back as his right hand slipped under my lower back, guiding me up, lower back hovering in the air. Yunho only paused for a small second, eyes connecting with mine before he moved, sharp and clear, pace nothing like the slow one previously. I moaned loudly as he started rocking his hips harshly, pace relentless and dick reaching deeper than before, making my hands ball up into fists as I couldn’t hold onto anything with Yunho pinning them above my head. It didn’t take long for Yunho to get vocal, cursing under his breath as his eyes were closed and he was biting his lower lip, pace picking up the louder my moans got. I couldn’t focus on anything else but the pleasure building up in my lower abdomen and the electricity coursing through my veins, mind wrapped up in the scent of Yunho, the feel of Yunho…Yunho.

“Yunho.” He was the only thing I could think about and at the desperation in my voice he got rougher, pistoning his hips at an unforgiving pace, making me cry out in pleasure as my hips thrusted up, chasing for an orgasm as I tried to meet Yunho’s frantic thrusts. He finally released my wrists and gripped my hips firmly with both hands as he helped me move against him, my head thrown back at the constant ripples of pleasure as my fingers tangled into the sheets above head and twisted hard, moans of Yunho’s name tumbling through my lips. He was panting loudly and whines left his lips as I could feel him throbbing and I knew he was close like I was.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.” He moaned out as my walls clenched down hard on his length, toes curling and mind completely fogged up with pleasure. The second his cold thumb started rubbing circles against my clit I saw stars and I came with a high-pitched moan of his name, Yunho’s hips stuttering before he guided my hips, riding out my orgasm just as he muttered a quiet fuck before he came too, groan low and guttural, movements never ceasing until it became too much and I whined, gripping his wrist in an attempt to ask him to stop as I haven’t managed to find my voice yet. Yunho groaned as his hips stuttered and slowly stopped, panting hard as he stared down at me. My eyes took him in before they stuck to the tattoo on his left pectoral. It was big. A big circle going around the letter A and cutting into it at the bottom. I shuddered as he slipped out and got off the bed, leaving my limp body on the bed to recover as my fingers tangled in my hair in an attempt to tame the wild strands. Yunho got rid of the used condom before he stood by the bed, towering over me. We stared at each other for a few seconds before he leaned down and tucked the covers away, effortlessly picking me up and slipping me underneath them. He got in next to me and pulled the soft covers over our bodies. I sighed in content at the warmth spreading over my naked body and nuzzled my nose into the pillow which smelled so much like Yunho. I felt him shift behind me before the front of his big body was pressed against my back, a hand coming around my body to hold me. I didn’t expect him to grip my neck firmly and push me back even more into himself as he slightly leaned over me. I was able to look at him from the corner of my eyes and I watched the menacing look on his face and the darkness in his chocolate brown eyes as he leaned close enough to be able to whisper.

“You don’t have to get a tattoo,” Despite his expression, his tone was soft, “but you’re mine and everyone else will know about it. I’ll make sure.”

I gulped as Yunho pressed a chaste kiss against my cheek before his long fingers slipped from my neck, making me realize I had been holding my breath. I released it shakily and felt him settle down behind me once again, nose pushing against my shoulder blade as his arm was firmly planted around my middle.

“Alright, let’s say I’m yours for now.” I found myself saying, but didn’t expect the chuckle from Yunho. I didn’t like being called nicknames nor being claimed like I was an object, but they didn’t sound so bad coming from Yunho’s mouth, they held no menace nor ulterior motives.

I didn’t know what this made us, but I knew I had one or two secrets to keep and that Yunho wasn’t letting me go nowhere from his sight.

⟨Part 2⟩

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iliverae · 7 days

Text

00. THE COOLEST IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD

SYNOPSIS — You don't know anything about soccer, but you do know Sae Itoshi. He's pretty cool. His brother thinks so you're pretty cool too.

note: first post!!! hi guys im iliverae bel !!! omg !!! anyways i miss the itoshi siblings so much hguuhu why wont they be happy

wc ; 2.2 k

"Mama... I don't want to." With your mother's larger hand gripped tightly in your own, tinier one, you tug on her pointer finger with a chubby pout. She looks down at you, age 5, with a smile, pinching your palm lightly.

"It'll do you good to have some friends, baby. Just spend some time with him."

You look down, cheeks puffed out and feeling frustration well up in your small, childish mind. You didn't want to! You wanted to go home and play with your dolls, not spend time with a stupid, probably stinky boy.

Your other friend, who was a nice girl, told you that guys have a weird sickness that makes everything they touch stinky, so you were a little scared.

You stand in front of the door, a little over triple the size you were, behind your mother's legs and still holding tightly onto her hand. Your tiny heart races in your chest when the door suddenly swings open, and there stands another woman. She's the same giant height as your mom, with pretty teal eyes and dark hair.

The thing that catches your eyes, however, is the thing standing behind her. Around your height—maybe a little smaller, Sae was always a small kid—and holding onto a weird checkered ball tightly in his arms. He didn't look the least bit embarrassed to see you, only looking up at the conversation the adults were taking part in and pretending to listen.

"Right!" The other woman smiles and her hand falls on top of the red head of hair. "Sae really wanted somebody to play with, since little Rin is far too small to even think about holding a soccer ball, haha. It'll be nice to sit down for a while and chat instead of running around outside kicking a ball around."

"Oh no, I get that," Your mom laughs, and you step out from behind the wall of her legs and tug her shorts when she speaks again, hand atop your hair, "Our tea parties are very eventful, but maybe some sport wouldn't do too badly."

Sport? Tea parties? You wanted to have a tea party, but not with this weird boy, who was now kicking that ball up and down leisurely.

"Sae!" The call of that name—it's probably his—catches the boy's attention, and he looks up at his mom, big eyes blinking. She looks down at him fondly, "Will you take [name] outside? Be nice to her, and don't play too rough. If she doesn't want to play soccer, don't force her."

He blinks silently a little longer, before he looks down—at you—and then back to his mother and he nods. She smiles, patting his head before bending down and smooching a kiss on his forehead, "Thank you."

He scrunches his little nose up and starts wiping the place where his mother kissed with pink cheeks, face all puffed up and chubby-and you giggle.

You didn't smell anything too bad. Actually, his house smelt like lavender and jasmine. It was nice. Maybe your friend was wrong.

Your little fit of giggles catches Sae's attention, and he looks over at you—where you were moving away from your mother with a little bit of encouragement from her—you stand in front of Sae, clad in your pink stripey dress with white stockings-you smile at him, toothy and cute.

"Go on," his mother steps out of the doorway, and Sae turns around, looking over his shoulder at you.

"Follow me." He says, speaking for the first time you've ever heard. His voice sounds much different from those of your girlfriends, but it's not deep by any means. It's actually squeaky. You comply and as he rushes down the hallway with pitter-patter steps, you, in your tiny Mary Jane's, follow.

You don't even glance back at your mother as she smiles when you're rushing behind the smaller Sae Itoshi.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

You follow the redhead, right up until he leads you outside (with much struggle opening the screen door—he was about to burst into tears until his mother rushed over and opened it for him), where you two stand in the warm sunlight.

You two rush past some garden beds filled with all sorts of vibrant flowers, various pots and gnomes, and even an outdoor lounge set until you're both on a large, green field. Two goalposts on either side were already set up—tiny goalposts, fit for somebody of your size.

"What's soccer?" You ask with your head tilted and tiny pigtails on either side of your head moving with you.

Sae furrows his little, red brows and his teal eyes squint angrily, "How do you not know what soccer is?! It's the best sport in the whole wide world!" With his brash tone and squished up, frustrated little face—it would've been more believable if you'd just told him he was a "poopy-head" rather than this.

"I don't play sport," You frown, shuffling your feet on the grass. "I like playing with my dolls."

"Dolls are boring," He kicks the soccer ball up and balances it on his toes. You're impressed by this show, but you can't let him see (lest his pouty expression grow coy), only turning your head and glancing subtly.

"Nuh-uh! They're so fun! I bet soccer is super boring!" You stick your tongue out at him. He huffs, catching the soccer ball and holding it under his arm. Sae seems to take heavy offence to your statement, cheeks puffed out, baby fat accentuating his cute, child-like features.

"That's not true!" His voice makes you jump a little, and he moves closer to you, looking directly into your eyes. "If you play it, you'll totally see it's not boring at all!"

"I dun' wanna." You shake your head, crossing your arms. "You said dolls were boring."

Sae frowns, looking down. He grabs his chubby hands together and fiddles with his fingers. "Fine... Dolls aren't that boring. I'll play dolls with you later if you play soccer wit' me now."

Your eyes light up and you smile wide, toothy and excited, "Okay! You have to promise to do a tea party with me!"

Sae looks embarrassed at the prospect, turning around and rushing after the soccer ball as he calls out, "Fine! But you needa play with me!"

"Okay!" You rush over to where he stands, in the middle of the field with the soccer ball on a white circle. "What do I do?!"

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

Your little foot misses the ball completely, and you slip, falling onto your butt on the grass. You let out a shrill scream of frustration, eyes narrowing at the ball and you glare, "Soccer sucks!"

Sae glares at you from where he stands in front of the goal, on the small field, he runs over quickly to where you planted yourself on the grass, "Hey! You're just bad at it!"

You huff, folding your arms over your chest and shuffle around with your legs so you're not facing him, "No! This game is just the worst!"

"No, look." He runs over to the goal you're facing, the ball in tow in front of him, and he kicks it with the side of his shoe, and it flies into the goal. You watch with wide, starry eyes at his goal—you're sure it is the most amazing thing you have ever seen.

"Woah... cool..."

He turns around, hands on his hips proudly and chest puffed up, cheeks pink with your praise, "Cool, right?! Soccer is super cool. You're just not cool enough for it yet."

You stand up, tiny hands balled into fists in front of you while you defend yourself, "What?! I'm cool!"

"Then you should get good at soccer, cuz then, you'll be the coolest." He pokes his nose up in the air, eyes shut closed. "Like me."

Sae Itoshi is undeniably cocky and perhaps, even at the ripe age of 5, he is too egotistical for his own good. You are completely and utterly aware of this fact. Even so, when you stare at him, you can't seem to pull your little eyes away.

You look at where the sun shines from behind his head—even though he's wearing a stupid Transformers t-shirt, and his bangs are choppy and frankly, really ugly, you look at his chubby face, and you believe him.

Your eyes sparkle, and your cheeks grow pink.

That was the day you realised Sae Itoshi was the coolest in the whole entire world.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

From the safe cradle of his mother's arms, Rin wordlessly and mindlessly wakes up from his nap, eyes opening slowly. He's yawning, and the two mothers are fawning over his cuteness. It's not every day Rin gets to sit in his mother's grasp like this, because of how Sae is always stealing her away to play some sport with him, but it's not like Rin holds any contempt towards his older brother for it.

He loves his older brother—and that's why he wonders what's so different about today. Sae spends every waking moment playing this sport, soccer, and every chance he gets, he asks their parents to play with him. When his father was home, he would ask him. When he wasn't, he would ask their mom.

Their father was at work right now—so why hadn't Sae come running up to ask? This is what makes Rin start squirming in his mom's grasp and reaching his hands out in the direction of the screen door, crawling across the couch towards it when she lets him go.

"Do you wanna go outside, Rinnie?" His mother asks him sweetly, looking down at her two-year-old son. "You can play with your big brother if you ask him nicely."

Rin can talk, easily, but all he does is make a muffled "mm" sound (you know the one that babies make) before getting up off his knees and rushing outside, feet only clad in socks as he runs on the concrete.

He only stops when he's right on the edge—a step forward would plant him on green grass. He looks up and sees his older brother rushing after a girl, who he has never seen before. With frilly socks and black leather shoes, a flowy pink dress and a pretty ribbon in your hair—the way you twinkle in the sunlight—Rin thinks you must be the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

You slam the tip of your shoe into the ball, and it goes flying into the goal before Sae even has a chance to stop it—and you cheer. You raise your fists into the air and giggle, jumping up and down with excitement. Your hair flutters alongside you with your movements, "Sae! Sae! Look! I did it! I got the ball in! I'm so cool!"

He pouts, crossing his arms and looking away, "It wasn't that cool..." But with his tone—it's easy to sense the jealousy. Rin sees you wrap your arms around his older brother in a tight hug from the side—you only giggle when he tries to push your face back, away from his.

You both look excited... Rin wants to celebrate with you two as well. He ignores the prickle of grass under his grey socks and rushes over—tiny steps making a little pitter-patter sound until he stands in front of you and Sae. He looks up, eyes wide and sparkly, and the laughing in your mouth dies down at the sight of the little child in front of you.

Your arms are still wrapped around Sae's shoulders—you look at him and ask, "Is this your brother?"

Sae groans, obviously annoyed and he looks away, "Ugh... Rin, get off the field."

Not understanding Sae's words, he keeps blinking wordlessly up at you two. Rin tilts his head to the side and clutches the bottom of his blue hoodie. Sae keeps glaring at him, arms crossed. "Rin, go away. You can't play with us."

You remove yourself from Sae and give him a look—especially when the words start sinking into Rin and his eyes grow glassy and wobble, "Hey! Why not?!"

"Cuz he's a baby! I dun wanna play with babies," Sae huffs, turning his head away. Rin starts wailing at his words, tears running down his cheeks and dripping onto the grass below. The elder Itoshi rolls his eyes and turns away, stomping towards the forgotten ball. "See, he's crying!"

"He's crying cuz you're mean!" You glare at the older brother, then look down towards Rin, who's still sobbing, but quietly now. He looks so much like your younger cousin, who you spend so much time with at family get-togethers, that you can't help but lean down and wrap your arms around him. "Dun worry... Sae's a big fat jerkface. He's a huge meanie pants."

Your voice is a low whisper, and Rin grips the back of your dress with even tinier hands. Rin sniffles and the tears slowly stop pouring down his cheeks at your comfort. His lips tremble and he looks up at you, tears clumping his long lashes together and glittering in the sun, "R... really?"

"Yeah!" You pull away, taking your comfort with you—you don't see how Rin makes a gurgled baby noise and grabby hands at you—and place your hands on your hips. "I bet you could be a really cool soccer player too! Like me! I'mma convince Sae to let you play, promise!"

You giggle, jotting your thumb towards yourself.

Rin looks up at you, big blue eyes sparkling from the sunlight that you emit, and the way your hair flutters behind you in the soft wind. His cheeks are puffed out and his hands are clutching the ends of his blue hoodie when he stares.

His eyes are sparkling, and his cheeks grow pink.

That was the day Rin Itoshi realised that you were the coolest in the whole entire world.

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #itoshi sae #sae itoshi #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae x reader #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock x you #bllk x you #*ೃ༄ bel's notes !

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chrollohearttags · 10 months

Note

oh nufffinnnn just thinking bout eren telling reader to “stop running” and to “move her hand”

why? Whyyyy would y’all do this to meeeee? 😫 knees just buckled and everything (and not just because one of them is out of place)

content warning/themes: bsf eren bc im obsessed now, black fem reader (plus size descriptors) missionary, mentions of nudes, back scratching, hair pulling, daddy’s used, pet names (pretty girl, mama) creaming, full nelson

“ ‘Ren!—Eren, okaaayy! Ooh, you win!”

crying out in a fussy huff as your once best friend turned lover hovered the entirety of his six foot three slender frame towered over yours. A firm grip from both hands keeping your feet pent back near your head and your legs wide open..perfect for him to fuck you as he saw fit. How exactly had you landed yourself in such a position? Well..

“I know. I always do, baby. So I don’t know why you play like I can’t handle your fine ass..talking about ‘you don’t even know what to do with me’…out ‘your fucking mind. And I told you to stop tryna’ run because you’re not going anywhere. Take this fucking dick like a good girl. You can do that, can’t you?”

once again, silly banter ensued between you two and he yet again, had to prove you wrong. It wasn’t long after he had exited basketball practice and an intense workout; still pent up with energy and plenty of arousal..especially after you sent him some rather salacious messages. The two of you weren’t certain if you were ready to put a label on things but you were damn sure having a ball engaging in activities that couples would. Like calling one another pet names, even around other people. This time, he just so happened to be changing in front of his two closest homeboys when you FaceTimed…fresh out the shower, wrapped in a towel and looking good as fuck! The thoughts that ran through his head were not ones that he should have around other people. He had to all but restrain himself from getting hard right there in that locker room. And you didn’t make matters worse when he got to his car and you had sent him nudes. “I’m at practice right now, mama, I gotta call you back.” Videos of you playing with that pretty pussy, telling him to come stretch you out instead. Taunting him with mentions of being too tired to handle you. Watching cream drip all down those fingers..and the sound of wetness while that sexy voice moaned his name and called him daddy? You had to pay for that! So he cleared up any confusion when he stopped by your apartment, keys still in hand when you strutted out in nothing more than an anklet, white painted toes and a bonnet. Dropping to your knees to devour his dick where he stood. Spitting, slurping and sucking him off as if you lacked a gag reflex. He couldn’t believe how nasty you got for him..it was treatment he could get used to! Which in turn, swiftly got you hoisted up in the air and fucked into oblivion, right there in that living room. Only now, he was getting his lick back for your earlier commentary.

“You so deep in this fucking pussy, daddy…I—I’m sorrryyy.”

attempting to tap at his abs and push him away.. to which he’d only laugh, slapping it out of the way with minimal force because you were so depleted. He’d slow down his thrusts just a tad because maybe he had been fucking your shit up. But you weren’t done yet, he was sure and neither was he. You were going to eat your words. Slowly circling that clit with his thumb pad, he’d coo to you with the other palm on your cheek, finally releasing the grip on your legs..

“Yeah? You’re sorry? Afraid I can’t accept that, pretty girl…imma need you to come for me at least two more times before I can forgive you..”

it was in that moment that you realized what type of demon you were truly messing with! Leaning down, he’d spit into your slippery folds and keep pumping that cock in and out. “Oh my God, I can’t stand youuuu..shit!” Laughing as you glared up at one another, laughing and enjoying the moment. But you weren’t getting let off of the hook so easily!

“And move that hand, you’re not slick..you’re getting all this dick. Show me you can handle it.”

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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year

Text

Randomly Flashing Your Pierced Tits at Them (NSFW-ISH?)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

Ft. Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Law

Sanji

You almost didn’t do it. This would have been detrimental—hell fatal, but Sanji has been a bit sick so Nami was on cooking duty as he was in your bed in and out of sleep

He hated getting sick, if anything he really wanted to just lay in bed with you all day, but he couldn’t risk giving his sickness to you.

“Feeling any better?” You touched his burning head nearly whining at how badly he must feel.

“No.” He sniffed sitting up. “I can’t feel or taste anything.

That’s when the idea popped up. Today was a great day not to wear a bra.

You climbed on top of him. Sanji immediately got hotter, he nearly protested you to not get close but you scoffed and kissed him anyways.

“Did you feel that?”

“I-I—I um—“

You pull up your top before he could answer and place his cold hands on your breast nearly making you hiss.

No more snot was coming from his nose, but blood instead.

He loved your jewlery so much he was toying with them with his eyes glued on how they shined on your beautiful little nipples. You laugh at his little praises of how soft they were

“Can you feel n—“

“YES!”

To this day Sanji believes your tits were the cure because he felt better the very next day.

Zoro

For this past week Zoro has been walking around the ship shirtless.

It’s not that you mind it it’s just not fair because his tits look so great and you wish he would get matching nipple piercings with you.

You and Zoro have been going out for a while and he has never actually seen you naked. There has been a few occurrences where he ALMOST seen you naked, but he quickly left the room before seeing anything.

So today you wanted to be a menace and just show him what you got and maybe convince him to get at least ONE

“Zo..”

“Hm?” He hums arms behind his head leaning on the wall of the CN.

“Would you ever get a nipple piercing.”

“What?”

“Would you—“

“I heard you.”

“Then why’d you ask.”

“…”

“No I wouldn’t.”

“Whyyyy—“

“Because they look stupid.”

Immediately offended you sit in shock

“Hey.”

“Lookit.”

You just pull up your shirt like it’s nobody’s business.

Zoro jumps the same time your breast do and you laugh at his blushing face

“WHY’D YOU DO THAT PUT THOSE AWAY!”

“IM TRYING TO SHOW YOU THEM—“

“THEM?!”

“MY PIERCINGS! See look.”

You force his face to look at your jiggly pierced tits. He’d be lying to say they didn’t look hot. How eyes widened, cheeks red, and lips now dry.

“They’re…pretty.”

“I know right. Feel it.”

Law

You flashed them on accident

A happy accident.

You were in his room and you seen one of his kimono’s and you really wanted to wear it because it looked so cozy ! So you stripped and took off your bra too because you believed you might as well be completely comfortable laying around in his room.

You actually looked so good in it, your breast loooked amazing. You moved around and pranced in your boyfriend’s room in his clothes until you got tired and decided to take a nap on his bed.

Good news about that is you probably had one of the best naps of your life.

Bad news is you were tossing and turning so much the kimono slipped off a little

“Y/N…”

“Hm?”

You jumped, Law seen you sleep and smirked. He wanted to scold or at least tease you for going through his stuff while he was away but his mind went blank seeing your bare chest as his kimono slipped down.

“O-oh! I’m sorry!” You quickly cover yourself as Law slowly approaches you and sits on the bed with and unreadable face.

“Never pegged you for a girl that had nipple piercings…”

You could see the blush on his face. Law was embarrassingly turned on seeing your little secret(s). He always suspected you had something to hide considering you always cover your chest a lot. He assumed it was a tattoo or something but this was even better.

“Yeah….you like em?!”

“I—uh…”

You took off your kimono again to expose your tatas and Law was not only speechless but feeling hot. You seen his fist balled eye’ing your breast so you grab his hand and make him touch one

“You’re my boyfriend Law, you can touch them..”

Bad idea because now that’s all he does when you two are alone or sleep.

Luffy

You were sitting on the head of the Sunny with Luffy laughing and relaxing when you got a bit warm and took off your denim jacket exposing your bra less white crop top.

Luffy wasn’t really the type to stare at your body, but since you both have gotten a bit more touchy with each other he does steal a few glances here or there

And that’s when he noticed your tits had—

“Y/N you have three nipples?! AHHAHAA!”

You furrowed your brows until you looked down and seen your erect nipples and piercings poke through your shirt on which makes it look like you have 3 nipples on each breast

“OH! No! Nonono it’s—“

“YOU DOOOO LOOK AHAHAH!”

Usually Luffy’s laugh makes you smile but right now you couldn’t get him to shut up and listen. He laughed damn near as hard when he was in Dressrosa.

You groan and pull up your shirt exposing your pierced boobies and waited for him to look at you. Once he did he finally started to calm down.

“These ARENT nipples they are piercings !”

“Huh?”

“I got my nipples pierced years ago—hey!”

Luffy immediately begins to fondle your breast. They actually feel really good bare. However when you got the piercings your nipples became very sensitive and your boyfriend started to test out that theory

“Why’d you get them? I mean they look cool but doesn’t it hurt?”

You couldn’t even answer him, he kept flicking and rubbing his fingers on your sensitive buttons making you bite your lip.

“These are kinda cool! They fit you.”

“Y-yeah.” You pull your shirt back down and Luffy pushes it back up making you jump as he got closer to cop another feel

“W-what are you doing!? Ah—…”

“Heheheh you like when I touch you here huh…”

“Luffy no!”

“Luffy yes! Common lemme…it’s just us! Besides you started it.”

Congratulations Luffy has a new toy.

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rainylana · 11 months

Text

“I’m not jealous.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: jealousy over the new secretary at his job creates tension over dinner.

warnings: smut, language, jealous reader, threats of a spanking, dom eddie, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex.

Forks scrapped against the dinner plates, chewing sounds and food pushing around with the utensil. A candle that still smoked from being blown out. The tv, still on. The lights flickered from a dying lightbulb. Jaw’s were tense and fist were balled up. To say less, the energy was awkward.

“You gonna keep ignoring me?” Eddie put down his fork, looking at you with annoyance.

“Mhm.“ You hummed, kicking your feet under the table.

He’d been late coming home for the fourth time this week. Your relationship with him was at an all time low, tense and angry. Neither of you knew why, but you didn’t like it. You both were always so stressed and angry, snapping and irritable.

He claimed that he had been working extra hours, but you knew there was a new girl working at the shop as a secretary, so your jealousy spiked to an all time high. He’d had the nerve to talk about her, talk about how good she was and how sweet and knowledgeable she was about cars. You weren’t sure if he was doing it on purpose to make you jealous.

“You’re being ridiculous, y/n.” He leaned back with annoyance. “What’s the fuckin’ attitude for, huh?”

“Attitude?” You scoffed, putting down your fork. “I do not have an attitude. You’re the one who showed up late. I had dinner ready.”

He groaned loudly, running a hand through his hair. “Angel, I told you I took up more hours. That means I’m working more hours.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m dumb.” You argued, pushing your plate forward with an angry huff.

“You’re actin’ it.” He challenged.

“Well, you’re just a dick.” You huffed, pouting your lip. “You should at least come home on time when you know I’ve got dinner made.”

“Oh, my god,” He chuckled in amazement. “What about more hours do you not understand? Are you feeling okay? Did you get your period?” He looked at you inquisitively.

“Oh, typical man.” You scoffed, crossing your arms in a huff. “Blaming my period on everything?”

“Well, are you?” He retorted.

“No!” You snapped, banging your fist against the table. “No, I’m not on my fucking period, Eddie, jesus!”

He groaned and buried his face in his hands, pressing hard against his forehead to numb his head ache. “Whatever.” He was going to drop it, not wanting to argue.

Maybe you were insecure, just simply jealous of the idea of another woman hanging around Eddie. It struck you odd, considering it had never bothered you before. You never typically got jealous. Eddie was always very good at assuring you that you were the only girl he had eyes for.

“Is this about Scarlett?” You could feel his eyes on you, your own looking down at the floor. “Because if it is, you need to tell me instead of biting my head off.”

He took your silence as a yes, and your eyes misted over, despite your best efforts.

“Y/n,” He sighed. “You know that’s stupid. I am not in slightest way interested in her.” He pressed, brown eyes trying to find yours, cocking his head in your direction.

“But you like her.” Your voice cracked, fingers digging into your skin.

“Yeah,” He nodded. “She’s good at her job. She’s got the credentials, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna up and marry her, y/n. Why are you so jealous of her?” He tried to get you to open up, reaching across the table to get you to look at him.

“M’ not jealous.” You pouted, a tear falling down your face.

“Put that lip away.” He said firmly, “Look at me and talk like a big girl.” His dominating tone made your belly warm, sending a chill down your spine that made you look up.

“I’m not jealous.” You tried again, eyes swelling into hearts at his beauty, even if he was irritated at you.

“Could have fooled me.” He raised a brow, crossing his arms like yours had been. “You just having a bad day or what? Because I’m warning you now you’re heading for a spanking if you don’t relax.”

The very threat made you throb, your cheeks flare up with warmth that he didn’t miss. You sniffled, wiping your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

He gave you a minute to calm down, tapping his fingers against the table, trying to find the words to make you feel better. “Y/n, you know there’s no reason to be jealous over her. Over anybody.” He said gently, holding out his hand for you to hold. He nodded to it, watching you reach out to take it.

“You and l know you’re the only girl I’ve got eyes for. I’m staying late because we need the money, because I’m trying to give you a good life. I could care less about her, y/n.” He squeezed your hand, speaking firmly, yet soft, trying to ease your stress. “I love you and only you, got it? You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. Why would I waste my time with someone else when I’ve got it made right here.”

Your eyes were swollen with tears that fell down you face, and you gave a nod that made him untense. “I know,” You hiccuped. “I’m sorry, I just- I don’t know, I just miss spending time with you.”

“It’s okay,” He smiled, rubbing your hand. “I just don’t want you worrying about this because there’s nothing to worry about.”

You smiled back and scooted closer to the table, sniffling. “Yeah.”

He reached out to wipe your cheek. “And I know you miss our time together. I miss it too, but we can still spend plenty of time together, honey. We’ll just have to adjust to this for the time being, okay? Nothing to get worked up about.”

You blushed, embarrassed at the tantrum you threw. “I’m sorry again.”

“Don’t be.” He soothed you. “I understand. Come here.” He took your hand and led you around the table, pulling you next to him so he could hug you lovingly. He was warm and embraced you gently, wrapping his arms around you in a tender hug.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been a jackass.” He spoke into your neck, torsos glued together.

“Me too.” You muffled into his chest. “I’ve acted like such a spoiled brat.”

He chuckled into your hair. “You have, if I do say so, darling.”

You whined, nestling into his chest. “Not gonna spank me are you?” You smirked.

“I should,” He looked down at you. “But I’m not gonna, since you’ve got a valid reason for being upset, but I am gonna fuck the fussy out of you.”

Your belly twisted and you looked up with doe eyes. “Please, do,”

He hungrily kissed you, knocking your head back as his lips lurched forward in a needy kiss. He pulled you into his lap, your legs going either side of his on the seat as he kissed down your neck. You hummed happily, looking up to the ceiling as he left sticky, wet spots down your skin, suckling and marking as he went. He pulled down your shirt as far as he could, kissing the exposure of your breasts.

“Fuck,” You whimpered, rocking your hips into his growing bulge.

“Watch it,” He bit your shoulder. “I’ll still punish you.”

You clamped your mouth shut and grinded on his bulge as he sucked on your neck, moaning and curling your fingers in the curls of his hair. As much as you loved a good spanking from your boyfriend, he really knew how to make it hurt.

He picked you up and walked you over to the couch, dropping you on your back as he towered over you, smiling happily with shiny teeth. You smiled back, giggling lightly as he reconnected the kiss. He rested between your legs, reaching down to cup your pussy with his palm. You hummed with satisfaction, shimming down your shorts and underwear in one go. You went to go for his belt until he stopped you.

“No,” He grabbed your hand, giving it a delicate kiss. “All about you tonight, baby. Want you to know how much you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”

He cupped your cheek and continued sucking on your neck, letting you relax as he dragged a finger through your folds, sending a shock through your body. He moved all the way down to your chest before he flung out shirt off, taking each of your nipples in his mouth and spending time to worship each of them, all the while he continued to graze over your pussy.

Then he moved to your arms, licking them with his tongue to your elbow before switching to the other. You were shaking, bucking into his hand and whispering pleas. He got to your stomach, giving a soft kiss to your navel as he finally pushed a finger inside of your cunt.

You moaned loudly, grabbing his hair.

“Feel better?” He smirked, coming up to you as he finger fucked your pussy.

You nodded, voice too full and shaky to speak coherently. He pressed another messy kiss to your lips, attacking his tongue with yours: His thumb went to your clit, circling and pressing, digging and swiping. It made you pant, shake and tremble in his arms. You had to break apart the kiss to cry out, looking up to the ceiling in euphoria. “I’m gonna cum.” You sobbed, rocking your body into him.

“Yeah?” He smiled coyly, entering yet another finger inside of you, rings shining with your arousal. “Fuckin’ cum then you little brat.”

You cried out as you came, your body shaking with pleasure as you sobbed and bit your lip. Eddie rubbed the heel of his palm against your clit, helping you through your high as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“I need you.” You panted hotly. “Please, need you bad.”

He hurriedly unbelted himself before rutting his thick cock into your pulsing cunt, making you scream as you wrapped your arms around his body. “Fuck,” He groaned, grabbing the arm of the couch as he looked down at his cock sliding in and out of your pussy. His pubic hair grazed at your overstimulated clit, making your muscles jolt and spasm. He thrusted faster and faster, the loud sound of skin slapping mixed with his heavy pants and your choked gasps and whines.

He came within seconds into your cunt, collapsing atop of you with a heavy huff,

#lana’s shit post #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson smut

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appleblueberry-pie · 1 month

Note

You asked Yan!Miguel requests and I shall deliver

Yan!Miguel with a spider!reader that wasn't bitten by a spider but rather was experimented on (Alchemax still doing shady stuff) and has the same superpowers as Miguel (only that their venom is deadly).

However even after surviving the tragic things their canon indicates, they're a ball of sunshine.

oh yeah. it's all coming together.

MINE, ALLLLL MINE.

Miguel was having mixed feelings. He was coming to a point where it was hard to focus on his important work. It was hard to ignore his anxiety stomachache. Hard to ignore the usual annoying people that just wouldn't leave him alone in his man cave. And it was especially hard to forget about you. It wasn't ever possible to not think about you, but he just couldn't push you to the back of his head for at least two minutes. It was hurting him. It was also hurting his technology he kept destroying(he crushed two keyboards and threw his printer).

Why can't he just figure you out? Since Jess found you in your universe and immediately gave you the green flag to help his team of spider-people, he's found out so many things about you. But every time he is given an answer about one thing, it just digs him into a deeper hole of realization that he really doesn't know you. For starters, there's no legal government information of you anywhere. He's been watching you through his monitor for at least 2 hours a day, and most of your day consists of you beating ass. Like you have no other thing to do in your life, not to mean it in an insulting way.

It's just weird, because almost all spider-people have lives outside of them being spiders. But the more he observes you, your superhero life just reminds him more and more of....himself. You didn't have the obvious genetically-enhanced spider build that usual spiders do. Which was taller and slimmer. You were for sure taller(he did his research, you sprouted by 6 inches in height), but you were more on the muscular, bigger side. And this way, you would benefit more for close combat to take down enemies, instead of almost entirely relying on your webs. Similar to how he was. Another example to further explain, is he was watching you on his monitor while you had a mission to bring another universe's Green Goblin back to their universe. He found that your webs were obviously bio-engineered. Either you made these yourself, or someone made them for you. So, you were physically more powerful than the usual spider, had bio-engineered webs, and the way you fought.....

You had chased down that Green Goblin like he killed your family. It's not an exaggeration. GG was fast, but you were faster. He took multiple jerks around corners and through narrow alleyways, flying to get away from you. But you caught him. Slammed his body into the brick wall, damaging it. He screamed bloody murder to get away from you, and you just kept hitting him. He watched as your fist collided with his face multiple times. And when you finished, he saw you basically unhinge your jaw to show your long, venom-dripping, white fangs. They showed beautifully through the video footage lighting. They had to hurt when they protruded, it had to. But you didn't seem to care about anything in that moment besides finishing off your prey. You sunk your fangs into his neck, piercing them into his flesh as deep as you could, your regular teeth almost breaking into his skin as well. GG's scream of excruciating pain faded into complete silence. Miguel watched the man go limp in you arms. Was he dead? You held him to your body as close as you could to hide your catch from anyone who could've found the both of you. It concerned him so much with how you went about finding him, he had to interrupt you by calling your watch. You seemed to snap out of whatever trance you were in and removed your teeth from the now limp villain.

"Hello?" Your sweet voice rang through his watch and he couldn't find the right words to tell you to just bring the poor guy back to base. When you did, three doctors had to help resuscitate Green Goblin. What the hell did you do? You were asked this multiple times and you just felt more and more guilty when people continued to say it to you. Miguel decided to step in and remove you from the emergency room and just told you to take a few days off. All he could say to you is you deserved it, so you took his word. He immediately turned his monitors back on when you went back home, because it wasn't the end of your continuous mysteries.

When you go home, you clean up and then disappear. This wasn't news to him. But it was confusing because the cameras couldn't catch where you possibly went, even at different angles. It was somewhere in your bathroom. You'd open the shower curtain, step into the shower, close it and then not come out for the next 5 minutes. You did this once every two weeks. Other times when you were gone for the day, he tried to find the secret room you obviously had and...nothing. He couldn't find a damn thing. The wall was solid, it didn't seem like it was hiding anything. He scanned it multiple times with different gizmos he had up his sleeve, but nothing. So, after installing a small robotic fly that he placed into your home, he got lucky and managed to slip into a room hidden behind your shower when you went in at the dead of night. The room was almost entirely dark and all you had in there was countless metal bottles of some sort of a glowing serum and you would inject it into your shoulder. Something very similar to what he does to himself. He was surprised to next week with this information. What made it worse was that right after you injected yourself, you found his fake fly. So now you know someone was watching you. He can only hope you don't find out it was him who implanted it.

But now he was sure. You were just like him. It made him as happy as it made him frustrated because you had him all figured out. You knew he used injections, that he wasn't a natural spider, you probably also knew he loved you to the moon and back. He had a soft spot for you, and it showed so much it was pathetic. You could walk into his cave and call out for him with your siren song, and he would immediately turn off everything and drift your way, sweet nicknames for you sliding off of his tongue like sugar. He only ever wanted to please you. And he felt like you knew this. But even with everything he just found out about you just today, he still seemed in the dark.

All he knew is that you were a happy-go-lucky sweet girl. He didn't know why you did the things you do. Why you inject yourself, and why you are so predatory and ruthless when you basically hunt villains down. So, he asks you.

"Miguel?" He swipes all of his holographic screens away and turns off the rest of his devices, making a 180 to fully face you as you hop onto his platform. The smell of Empanadas wafted up his nose as you give three separate containers to him. "The cafeteria guy said he had extras, so I brought as many as he would let me for you. I know you don't eat much since you're really busy." His heart swells with affection as he coos at your sincere kindness, opening one to take his first bite. "Ohhh, querida, you didn't have to."(My dear)

You watch him place the rest on his desk and he finishes chewing to talk to you. "Thank you......So.....I wanted you to see me so that I can talk to you about how you handle the anomalies in other universes, and maybe even the regular villains in your own universe." You nod understandingly and Miguel had to ignore his increasing heartbeat at your eyes staring up at him.

"I'll be honest with you, amor. When groups are out to capture an anomaly, I usually don't have to monitor them because I have other people to do that for me. But Jessica and I sent you off on your own, knowing how much we can depend on you to carefully capture the anomaly with no troubles, which I know you don't. But, still, I take precautions and monitor you every now and then to make sure if you're alright or if you need any support. But when I see you through the my screens....you are....particularly rough with them. And it's more rough than the usual spider would be." You seem to know what he was talking about and advert your gaze, messing with your suit. (Love.)

"Y/n, you almost killed Green Goblin the other day." You purse your lips and nod in agreement. "Yes, I....."

You hesitate to speak. You didn't want anyone to know about your past. Did he have to know? You guessed so, since you are a part of a really big multiverse-saving company. It was so hard to escape Alchemax when they fucking tortured you every single day for their own pleasures. That stupid serum you can't live without? You stole enough to live for the next 3 years. And that's all you really needed. You took an Alchemax worker's apartment that you found deep in their records, knowing that if you fake your emails and his work, you could live in secret. You didn't want to live on like this forever. You knew that after those three years ended, then they ended. And you would follow.

Your only hope for the rest of your life is to live in secret and to help people as much as you can before you died. The serum just makes you a little.....violent. Just the way that the scientists liked it so that you could run on it for longer than usual. So, here you are. But how are you supposed to explain that to your boss?

"......Y/n?" He softly calls your name, concern etching his face as he reaches out to touch your hand. He almost didn't want to, not knowing how you felt about it. But when his finger very lightly grazed your warm and soft palm, you blinked back to life, grabbing his hand back. A breath entered his lungs and he seemed to be reborn at your sudden advancement to his touch.

".....Yes. I do have something to tell you." His eyebrows scrunch as he nods and pulls up a random chair to sit and wait for you to talk. You told him everything. About how you are an experiment on legs, how you were from Alchemax, and that they were the people that really owned you. And you being a spider-person is just you doing as much as you can for the city you loved so dearly. How you only had three or less years to live with the serums you had hidden in your home. How you literally don't care if you die anytime before that, and you're doing your part in life that doesn't make you as useless as you thought you were.

Miguel watched you say all of this. He watched your face. He watched how you....really didn't care. You were so calm about all of these life threats that you continuously had hovering over your head. You live life every day as if it was your last. What if someone burned your house down? What if Alchemax found you?? What would happen to you then?

"I can help you. Lyla." He almost seemed to work on autopilot. "Bring me documents of the chemical makeup of my own serum for me. While you're at it, turn all of the equipment in Floor 4's laboratory on for me." All of his tech equipment were back on again as he pulled his own serum, meant for next week, out of his drawer. "Miguel...?" "Y/n, can you bring me one of your own serums? I'll be in the lab when you come back. Find me on the fourth floor. Lyla can show you the way."

"Miguel!" He pauses and looks down at you. You shake your head as a shaky smile is brought to your face. "I don't need you to do this for me. I'm fine with the way things are." Miguel scrunches his face and steps towards you. "Qué? Te estás escuchando a ti mismo? Y/n, I don't want you to die. Nobody wants you to die. Y-you need to be here, No entiendes? Do you want to be a spider for the rest of your life, violently killing people the way you were taught? You can be given a regular life. A new life, here with me! You deserve more than just....being a machine. Because you're more than just a weapon. You're human."(What? Are you hearing yourself?)(Don't you understand?)

Miguel went too far with his speech. He said too much. Every word that continued to spill out of his lips dug him into a farther hole. You were crying, but it still didn't help the fact that you now know that he probably is infatuated with you. He tries to save face by saying more, but instead, his hand reaches out to wipe the tears off of your face. It couldn't possibly be real, the way you leaned into his touch. Your wet face touched his palm and he stuttered endlessly. Fuck, he had to get out of here.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to say that to you. It was unprofessional." You shake your head and lift your face out of his hands, staring up at him with those glistening eyelashes, your beautiful shiny eyes looking up at him. "No.....I'm glad you told me that. I.....thank you." He looks away bashfully and takes a step back....another....and then another until he walks off out of the cave to go down to the laboratory.

What is he going to do about you? He loves you too much to let you continue doing this horrible job. It was killing you.

Something feels off about this, but I am going to post it anyways because it's been bothering me like a collar tight around my neck all day. Needed this badly.

#yandere #yandere x you #reader #yandere x reader #yandere character #across the spiderverse #atsv #miguel 2099 #miguel fanfic #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader

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flamingpudding · 9 months

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Ghost Hunting Vigilantes

Ouija Board Prompt Idea Continuation...? Maybe!

Follow up part directly to this: Ghost Hunting Vigilantes #2

A/N: You guys are awesome. Comments and Reblogs gave me so much inspiration I ended typing this down during Lunch Break. Also I just might have wanted to image Tim going all out on the ghost investigation, I blame watching to many TFIL Overnight videos...

You would think that as Ghost King Danny would be able to learn from his mistakes, and he really could learn from his mistakes but for some reasons, this was something he was not learning from as he floated above the vigilantes curious. He wasn't going to mess with them again, Lady Gotham had beat that into his skull at least. Not like he did the first time but apparently the old city spirit was rather protective of her 'knights'.

Still their first meeting had gotten the Ghost King curious. It wasn't just about the matter with the Red Hood Guy, something he had promised Lady Gothom to take care of as compensation once he figured out what was up with him. But these guys seemed to have gotten an interest in ghost communications now.

So a couple weeks later he was floating invisible once again above them watching the RR Teen - by now he had learned that RR stood for Red Robin and he had snickered at the realization that his hero name was also the name of a Dinner - was laying out cat balls all around the room before setting up some other devices.

The Kid, Robin, was sitting cross legged and arms crossed on the ground and looked very grumpy. Danny could hear the kid mutter something about Pit Demons and that they should get rid of them instead of trying to communicate. The kid had yelled that before and Lady Gotham had never explained that in her lectures about how he should treat her 'knights'. What were Pit Demons? Was that a ghost variant his kingly tutors had failed to tell him about? If they were his subjects and tormenting humans he would need to deal with them, before the GIW became aware of them.

The one in blue, Nightwing if he remembered correctly, was laying out the Ouija Board again at the same place it lay last time. Danny noticed that the guy was looking at the board with curious confusion and for a moment the Ghost King wondered if he had left some traces on the board when his own ectoplasm soaked it.

"Think that ghost will appear again?" The girl in purple was also there again and next to her was another girl dressed in darker colors. Spoiler and Orphan according to Tucker and the city spirit.

"It's a Pit Demon. Stop calling it a ghost." Robin cut it glaring heated at them all. Danny muffled a snicker. The poor kid was definitely not very good at handling the ghostly things but by saying the Ghost King was Pit Demon the kid appeared to be braver about the whole situation these vigilantes were 'investigating' and setting themselves up for.

"I am more worried that Replacement got scammed buying all these things." Red Hood huffed as he was turning around and looking at a controller-like thing in his hands. Danny floated closer looking over the tall guy's shoulder. The thing had five LEDs in different colors and EMF Meter was written on it. Huh, was that thing like the Fenton-Finder? Well his parents had to get the idea for their inventions from somewhere.

A high pitched beep resounded in the room and all eyes turned to Red Robin who was finishing up setting a small box with an antenna. Danny recognised this one from online ghost hunting videos Sam has made him watch as a joke, a REM Pod. Oh so all the stuff they laid around the room including the cat balls were options for him to use? That was pretty nice of them considering the first time they were just playing around with a Ouija Board.

"We are all set up and good to start." Red Robin said as he stood up facing the rest of the vigilantes proudly and Danny arched an eyebrow. "We can now investigate if this 'ghost' is a Pit Demon or has anything to do with the Lazarus Pits or Water and what they want here in Gotham! I missed out on getting a sample last time but hopefully they will be willing to give me one this time."

The Lazarus' what now? Danny blinked at the teen stunned. He had only played a joke on them and Lady Gotham had already sorta punished him for it. If getting hit by a ghost club and lectured on knightly etiquette counted as punishment, which in his opinion did. Why were they making such a big deal out of this anyway?

"Don't we need to… like open a veil and introduce ourselves?"

"No."

"Oh come on Baby Bird. We have to be polite."

"Says the fucker who secretly attempted to use the Ouija Board behind our backs." Red Hood grumbled turning on the controller in his hand and nearly dropped it as the LEDs all started to glow and it let out a long drawn out beep. Danny blinked at it, he was still floating around the tall guy's shoulders.

"Fuck! The hell is with that thing?"

"Oh! Oh! The ghost is already here!"

"It is a Pit Demon."

All the vigilantes suddenly looked a lot more on alert, Danny held back a chuckle as he floated away from Red Hood and over to Nightwing. The LEDs went down to two and Danny suppressed a hum in curriousity. Did Red Hood have a signature that thing was picking up on? Was the guy a halfa in the making? He didn't appear to have any of the signs Vlad had told him about once.

"Hey so are you the one we talked to last time?"

Seeing the board as the closest thing to communicate by him, he reached out and moved that wooden piece to YES. The vigilantes looked among themselves and Danny floated over to the kid that started nervously playing with a cat ball that had been placed near him, wondering if he could send out like a calming aura for the kid.

Lady Gotham hadn't needed to hit him that hard, seeing the kid now made the Ghost King feel guilty for scaring the poor boy the way he did. Even if he didn't know what all that Lazarus Stuff was about yet. He mentally noted that down, maybe Clockwork, Pandora or one of the annoying Observants had an idea.

"So are you a Pi-"

"Are you okay?" Nightwing cut in, interrupting the question Red Robin was going to ask and Danny blinked. Huh that was new. It's been a while since anyone aside from his sister and best friends asked him that.

He floated towards the RR teen and he lightly touched the REM Pod's antenna, it let out a different pitched beep than it had before causing the teen that stood by it to jump up and turn around staring at it with wide eyes. "I didn't touch it!"

Spoiler rolled her eyes. "Of course you didn't, Mr. Ghost did."

"The ghost could be a girl for all we know."

"It's 16."

"The voice we heard last time sounded like a male teen though."

"It is a Pit Demon, it most likely lied to us."

Rude, Danny didn't lie. He picked up one of the cat balls, it started instantly lighting up because of the movement, and lightly threw it at the kid that caught the ball on reflex. Wide eyed they all stared at the still blinking ball. "Did…. did the ghost just fucking throw that at Demon Brat?"

"I only ever saw in videos how ghosts lightly touch it to make it blink. I have never seen a ghost throw it like that."

Danny snickered into his hand to muffle it. Robin suddenly dropped the ball like it had burned his hand glaring at nothing as his eyes wandered over the room. "Show yourself Pit Demon!"

He floated over to Nightwing and the Ouija Board again, passing Red Hood who was still holding the EMF Meter that hit all five LEDs for a moment and beeped when he passed by. Making the tall guy jolt and stare down at it. He swiftly moved the wooden piece to NO.

After last time and the beating Lady Gotham gave him with her ghost club, he was not going to show himself. Not even with a little ectoplasm-avatar blob form. Okay maybe he will later on, when he was sure they wouldn't suddenly start attacking it again. He didn't see any of his parents' weapons with them but he wasn't going to risk it. Considering what Red Hood had said earlier, Red Robin might have bought some more stuff he had not shown or laid out yet.

"I demand that you show yourself, Demon!" The kid was pulling out his katana looking ready for a fight.

Now that was rude. Danny was a half ghost. Not a Demon. They were an entirely different species. Sure they were sort of a part of the Infinite Realms but like Ghost are formed from ambient ectoplasm, strong wills and emotions. Demons were like a living breathing species that needed to eat actual food like humans and not entirely made of ectoplasm.

Danny didn't move a single finger to respond to Robin's demand, silently scoffing.

"They are not ghosting us now are they?" Nightwing carefully asked after the silence had dragged on. Red Robin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I swear if you made them leave, I will not include you the next time we investigate this 'Pit Demon' as you call them."

"Come on guys! We can't give up now. Maybe we can call them back?" Spoiler added, Orphan next to her nodded enthusiastically.

"This thing is still glowing on two LEDs." Red Hood added holding up the EMF Meter for the rest of them to see.

"So it's still around?"

"Probably."

There was more silence and an idea sparked in Danny's head as he suppressed a snicker and carefully floated over to the REM Pod making sure to avoid Red Hood and not alerting the thing in his hand. He crouched by the box, studying it for a little bit and making sure not to touch it to accidentally set it off too soon.

"It's been too quiet. Are you sure it didn't leave?"

"Still on two LEDs."

"This demon is a coward."

"You're not making it better Baby Bird."

"We should have gotten Signal to come too. He probably could have told us for sure if they are still around or not."

"Maybe we should pack up and try another time again?"

"But we didn't even get the ghost's name!"

Taking this as his que to give a sign of 'life' from him again, Danny touched the REM Pods antenna with a certain rhyme in mind. He wasn't hitting the notes correctly but the pitches were different enough from each other that these vigilantes would recognise what he was doing.

They jumped at first at the sudden noise until slowly realization dawned for some of them. The girls started to laugh after a moment and Red Hood also chuckled with the realization. Nightwing didn't look exactly ecstatic but he did seem ready to burst out laughing. Robin looked rather confused and annoyed and Danny wondered if the kid had any meme knowledge while Red Robin groaned but then appeared to smile in good humor.

Once Danny stopped playing with the REM Pod, Red Robin walked over to a table and put the case under it on top. He opened it and placed a raidio looking like thing on the table as well as a camera with a screen on it.

"Now, Mr. Ghost. I know you have a voice we heard before but you seem to appear to prefer not talking to us directly and whatever made you talk last time doesn't seem to be around tonight. So I have a spirit box and a SLS Camera additionally prepared here." Red Robin switched on the 'radio' and it started making white noises filtering through radio channels, he turned back towards the room holding the camera up with the screen facing the teen. The other vigilantes also appeared stunned by how prepared Red Robin was. Danny could only blinked as he realized that Red Robin was pointing it directly at him and for a second he wondered if that thing was actually picking up his movements or if it only picked up static or blurred images like the cameras back at home that were not old film.

"Let's have a talk this way, shall we?"

-Seriously?- Danny muttered making sure he was using ghost speech so they wouldn't hear him only to slap his hands in realization over his mouth as the Spirit box statically repeated his words understandable for them.

Wide eyed he stared at Red Robin who grinned triumphantly at him, he was still invisible at least... right?

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mypoisonedvine · 1 year

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𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙢 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader (part two)

read 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 (part one) here

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || these video calls have become the new normal for the two of you, but it might be time to take the next step.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 3.2k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; video call sex, dirty talk, use of sex toys, and a touch of breeding kink), sex work (again, kind of inherent to the whole thing), basically porn without plot but with feeeeelinggsssss 💕

(this week's challenge for @the-slumberparty was to write a follow up to something I wrote previously, figured there was an obvious solution to that prompt!)

“Did you get what I asked you to?” you asked with a coy smile.

“Yeah, it’s right here…”

He held up the fleshlight in front of the camera's view, strategically angled down to his chest and lap so he could keep his face hidden, and couldn't help but notice that mischievous sparkle in your eye. “Have you tried it yet?”

“No, I figured I’d wait to see what you wanted me to do with it,” he replied, and you laughed.

“Well, there’s really only one thing you can do with it, sweetie,” you purred— why did that little pet name turn him on so much? “I want you to fuck it. I wanna watch you fuck it.”

"Okay," he breathed, "sounds… interesting."

"I'd like to see your face— you know, see you really react to how it feels— but I know you said you don't want to yet…"

It already gave him a little anxiety that you were seeing his body, if covered up by the t-shirt and boxers, but you at least acted like you were enjoying what you saw so far. "Will you settle for seeing how hard I am instead?" he asked, and you licked your lips.

"Seems like a fair trade," you giggled.

He reached into his boxers, but saw that the view of the webcam cut him off— so he slowly tilted his laptop down, letting the camera pan to his hand around his leaking cock.

“Oh— fuck, that’s really you?” you choked.

“Yeah,” he answered, not sure if that was the right or wrong answer but knowing it was at least the true one.

“Hold up… three fingers, right now,” you ordered suddenly, “with your other hand.”

Confused but not willing to question it, he put his free hand in frame and did as you’d asked.

“Just— you know, just checking,” you explained, “people can, like, hack Zoom and put up a video or something, wanted to make sure it’s really you…”

“Is it that hard to believe?” he wondered.

“It’s just that, you know… you’re big,” you mumbled. “I mean, no offense to my viewers or anything, but—definitely the biggest I’ve seen in a video call, I’ll say that.”

That made his cock flex in his hand. “So, you like it then?”

“Like it? Wish you could’ve seen how wet I got when that popped up,” you laughed. “God, I would suck you—I mean I would really suck your cock, lick it all over, taste those balls—”

He squeezed his cock in his hand, snarling a little. “That’s so hot,” he groaned.

“And I can just tell you’d go so deep inside me,” you added, making his chest tighten up. “Do you know how many inches it is? I wanna try to find the closest toy I have to your size, then I can really imagine how you’d feel in my pussy.”

He was almost high just on the knowledge that you wanted to imagine that. “Uh—eight, maybe eight and a half…”

"Fuck," you breathed. "Yeah, I— I think I have a vibrator that size, but I'm not sure it'll be… thick enough…"

"Well, mine doesn't vibrate," he warned you with a laugh.

"Yeah, and mine isn't dishwasher safe," you returned.

"Oh god— people clean these in the dishwasher?" Dieter realized with a shudder.

"Yeah— I'm guessing you've never used one before?" you pressed, and he shook his head— before he remembered you couldn't see it.

"No," he answered aloud. "I, uh, usually just prefer the real thing."

"Right— me too, but you know, we make do," you laughed. "So? Wanna give it a spin?"

"I, uh, I guess so…"

Grabbing the toy from the little bedside table, he looked at it for a moment— it was shaped like a vulva around the opening, but it wasn't that realistic. First of all, it was only one color; second of all, the design was so simplified that it was missing the things he loved most about a pussy in terms of looks. Not the Dieter had ever thought the visual element was its strongest…

But yours was gorgeous— beyond perfect. Looked edible, delicious even, with a clit he wanted to suck on for hours and a cute little hole he couldn't imagine being lucky enough to fill with his cock. And this toy was just that— a toy, a piece of silicone, and he really only had any interest in it because this whole thing was your idea.

Sighing, he slipped the toy down on himself; he wasn't sure what he was expecting, really, but it was a unique feeling. Not as hot or wet as a real body, of course, but there was a nice pressure to it.

“How’s it feel?” you asked warmly.

“Good,” he breathed— not a very creative answer, but the best one he could come up with now. “Way better than my hand, but nothing like, you know—”

“Nothing like me?" you assumed.

He sighed as he started to stroke himself with the toy— long, slow movements to get used to it. "Yeah," he agreed, "nothing like— fuck— like you…"

"Are you imagining it's me instead?" you pressed, leaning in closer and watching intently. "Imagining me riding you nice and slow like that? Letting you hold my hips and move me just how you like?"

"I'm certainly trying to," he mumbled.

"Look how wet I am," you encouraged, and he leaned his head to the side a bit so he could see the screen better: you had your legs spread wide for him, and your fingers were rubbing your glistening cunt. "I'd drench your cock, baby, probably make a fucking mess on you—"

"Fuck," he moaned, "use the toy on yourself. Fuck yourself with it while I'm doing this."

You spread your legs and pushed the vibe inside— but you didn't turn it on— with a sigh; you were already finding a place you liked by pushing it in and out with your hand, but he stopped you before you got too into it.

"No," he corrected, "ride it."

You smirked. "Maybe my legs are sore."

"Maybe I don't give a fuck."

You bit your lip and sat up, holding the toy between your legs and rocking your hips as you started to ride.

He whimpered when he saw the way you were enjoying the toy— you picked it because it was close to his size, so it was impossible not to picture being under you and watching you sink yourself down on him just like that.

"Feels so good," you panted, "been wet all day waiting for our call… and I can't stop staring at your cock…"

"You really like our calls that much?" he wondered, knowing your answer couldn't be totally honest but not really caring anymore— he craved the fantasy, that was why he couldn't stop booking these.

"Yeah," you hummed. "Don't tell anyone, but you're my favorite."

"Don't… don't flatter me," he pleaded, trying to remind himself that you were just saying nice things because you were paid to.

"It's true," you assured. "Your voice turns me on like crazy— not to mention the shit you actually say with it…"

Figuring he should treat you to a little bit of that dirty talk you apparently enjoyed, he swallowed and conjured some courage to boss you around a bit. "Turn around— wanna see your ass," he demanded, moaning louder when you did as you were told. "Look so fuckin' good riding that…"

You arched your back further just to give him a better view; he hissed, pumping the toy faster.

"God, you drive me crazy showing off your ass like that," he admitted with a groan. "Needs a good spank but I'm afraid to crack my computer screen."

You laughed a little, but reached back and pulled your ass apart so he could get a better view of that pink hole swallowing up the toy.

"Jeeeeeesus fucking Christ," he grunted, moving his own toy faster. "You've got the most beautiful cunt, baby, I swear…"

"And you've got such a nice cock," you replied with a groan. "Can't stop thinking about it— I just know you'd stretch me out, baby, the way I like—"

"Fuck, I would," he promised. "I know how you need it, I just know— I swear I wouldn't stop until you came all over me, until you fucking soaked me—*

"Baby," you panted.

"And then I still wouldn't stop until you did it again—"

"Fuck!" you whined, and he saw your pussy tighten on the vibrator. "That sounds so fucking good— sounds like exactly what I need. Just to be fucked until I can't think anymore…"

"God— you don't need to think," he promised. "Just need to keep your legs open, I'll do the rest."

You moaned louder, and bounced faster on the fake cock. "Yeah, I will— I'll just let you do all the work, okay? Lay back and let you do what you want?"

*Fuck, yeah," he mumbled. "Let me give that pussy what if needs… I know what you need, I can tell. You need it deep, right?"

"Yeah…"

"And hard? Fast?"

"Yes—"

"Shit, baby— turn around again, miss that pretty face— and I know you wanna look at it more, don't you? You really like looking at my cock?"

You laughed slightly as you quickly turned back to face the camera. "I mean— I wanna do a lot more than look at it, but this is all I can do right now."

"What else do you wanna do with it, then?"

"Choke on it," you answered instantly. "Beg for it."

"Fuck," he whispered.

"Rub my pussy on it, show you how bad I need you…"

"Mm," he moaned in agreement.

"Then I could just… slide it inside, try to fit you in my little hole, feel you going so deep…"

A little whimper slipped from his lips accidentally, and his eyes shut for a moment as he tried to picture it— you in his lap right now, looking back over your shoulder as you guided his cock into you. It was a great image, but the toy wasn't enough— it wasn't warm enough to be you.

It was much better when he opened his eyes and saw how desperately you looked; you were literally dripping on the toy and he thought he might lose his mind.

"You like watching me use this that much?" he noticed. "You're so dirty, baby— so turned on watching my dick fill this fake pussy. I know you wish you were here instead— we both do."

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “I want you to fuck the toy just like you’d fuck me, please…”

He started to buck his hips up into it; he loved seeing the way your face changed when you watched him using the fleshlight more… aggressively. "How's that look?" he prompted you with a smirk. "You wanna be fucked like this?"

"God yes— I wanna be your toy, Hector," you informed him with a purr. "I'm jealous of it, actually— I'm watching you fuck that fake pussy and I'm jealous…"

"I always get jealous," he replied. "All those toys that get to feel you every night in your streams? I'm always thinking that should be me— I wanna make you come even harder than they do."

“I know you’d feel so much better,” you whimpered, “I know you’d fuck me better—you know how fucking tired I am of riding these toys? How badly I just want you to hold me down and fuck me as hard and deep as you want?”

“Fuck, I want that too,” he groaned.

“Yeah? Wanna use me?”

“Mhm,” he nodded.

"Wanna make me your toy?" you prompted.

Wanna make you my girl, he barely stopped himself from blurting out. "Y-yeah," he choked out instead.

Stroking himself faster with the toy, he grunted softly and adjusted his hips on the bed. "When you come, take the toy off," you instructed, "so I can see it. Pretty please?"

"Of course," he agreed. "It'll be hard to stop, but— I can do it, for you."

"How romantic," you cooed, and it wasn't totally clear how much you were joking. "I wanna see you coming so I can imagine how it would all feel inside me…"

"That's what I'm gonna imagine, too," he promised with a sigh, "all that come going deep inside you… and keeping you full all night so none of it goes to waste…"

"Fuck," you groaned, "are you that possessive, need to stay inside me all night? Won't let any of your come leak out?"

"Yeah— I'm… very possessive."

"Well, I like… being possessed…"

"Do you like being bred?"

You grinned, and he felt almost guilty for saying it— but the feeling was oddly erotic somehow. "Yeah," you breathed. "I like that… I like getting filled with come, hearing you promise that you're— fuck— gonna knock me up…"

He groaned as he tightened his gut to try to stave off the inevitable orgasm approaching. "I wasn't even into that until I started watching you," he admitted with a sigh, "used to be my worst fear, honestly… but now it's all I can think about… fucking you raw, knowing you're not on anything, knowing you could get—"

"Just— just pretend," you interrupted suddenly. "It's okay if it's just pretend, right?"

He was pleasantly surprised by the vulnerability of that. You could've just played into it, since it was all over video call anyways and didn't make much difference. It's not like he was going to get you pregnant from another continent. But he appreciated that you spoke up for yourself, even if he wasn't totally sure why. "Yeah, of course," he promised, voice a little softer. "That's the thing— even just pretending drives me crazy, turns me on like nothing else. You made me like this— don't even know how, but you made me want that."

"Fuck, that's— I'm close," you admitted, "really fucking close to coming for you… what else do I make you want?"

"You make me wanna buy you stuff," he added, laughing breathlessly. "Spoil you, you know. So much more than flowers."

"God, you know just what to say, don't you?" you sighed. "What else— just tell me what you want, tell me everything."

“I want you to be mine,” he answered, too lost in pleasure to be self-conscious about the honesty. “I want you to be only mine—want you here with me, want you in my bed all the fucking time, wanna make you come and make you say that you fucking belong to me.”

“Oh, fuck,” you whined, “that’s— fuck, I— I’m yours. I belong to you.”

“God,” he gasped, nearly a sob it was so intense— he never thought you’d really say that. “Don’t want you to let anybody else fuck you, or touch you. Just mine, baby, you need to just be mine—”

“I am, I am,” you promised. “I swear I’m fucking yours. Don’t want anybody else—just want you, it’s all yours, whatever you want—m’gonna be your girl. Your whore.”

“Fuck!” he moaned loudly, moving the toy so fast it was just a greyish blur over his cock. “When you come, you tell me whose you are— I’m gonna fucking come, just say it.”

“Yours, yours,” you promised, over and over, “you’re making me come, it’s you— yours, m'yours—”

He groaned loudly as he pulled the toy off of himself just in time for come to paint his stomach and thighs. He rode out his high untouched as he listened to your own cries, and kept his eyes trained on your face as you sobbed through the pleasure. “Fuck,” he sighed, “don’t stop, just keeping riding it—good girl.”

“Mhm,” you whimpered, shaking as you kept going, nodding and biting your lip. “Yeah, whatever you want…”

“Don’t stop until I tell you,” he ordered. “You keep riding that fucking dick, I don’t care if you can’t come anymore, keep fucking going—”

“Yes,” you promised, “I’m still going… I won’t stop, not until you say.”

Catching his own breath, he waited until your legs looked ready to give out before telling you that you could stop. The toy was drenched, your body was glistening with sweat—and he was panting so hard he felt dizzy.

“Holy shit,” you whispered. “I mean—fuck.”

“So you liked that, too?” he noticed, and you smiled hazily.

“Yeah—that was… damn. You wear me out, man.”

He laughed, though he barely had the air for it. “I wear you out? You see the contents of my balls all over the fucking place here?”

You laughed, then, and he still thought it was the best sound in the world, even better than hearing you come. “Yeah, fair,” you relented. “It was really hot, though—watching you come. Is it bad if I wanna make you do it again?”

“Shit, tonight? I don’t think I can—”

“No, no, not tonight, that might kill both of us,” you laughed. “I meant next time…”

That made him deflate a bit. Maybe this was all an upsell—it was just about getting him to pay for the next session, keeping him hooked so you could get the money and gifts.

“I was thinking, uh… maybe next time—oh god, this is a bad idea, but—maybe next time could be in person?"

And then his heart jumped. “We could, uh… that’s an option? We could meet up?” he rushed out, hoping not to sound too eager but failing completely.

“Yeah,” you decided, looking more self-conscious than he’d ever seen you. “I don’t know, I just— it feels different with you. That might be stupid but, it’s true. And the truth is, I know everybody probably assumes a lot because of the camming and stuff, but I haven’t had sex in… years. Just the toys. And I fucking miss it.”

“Yeah, me too,” he breathed. “I mean, uh, it hasn’t been that long for me… but I miss it— and I… I think I need you. Like, really need you.”

You smiled, and it was different than any of the ways he'd seen you smile before. "Yeah, I— I feel that, too. But, if we're gonna meet in person… I need to see your face."

Sighing shakily, he thought about it clearly for the first time. He was scared of meeting you in person, as badly as he wanted it. He was scared whatever magic you felt over video call wouldn't translate to real life; he was scared to disappoint you.

But he was more scared of losing you because he never had the guts to try. So, with a deep breath, he tilted the laptop back, and let the camera show his face.

His hair was even messier than he expected, so he tossed it with his fingers a bit, but otherwise just let you get a good look at him.

He'd spent most of his life being looked at— he'd spent most of his life trying to be looked at, fighting to be the center of attention. He wore shades and ball caps to avoid the paps like anyone else— because he thought he was supposed to— but deep down, he was addicted to being seen, in spite of his introversion.

He'd never felt as seen as he did when you were looking at him through that stupid webcam. He almost blushed, though he wasn't sure why.

"Hi," you greeted softly, sounding almost completely different than before.

"Hi," he said back.

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