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gloomwitchwrites · 3 months ago

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secret baby trope with tf141? 😌😌

Anon! OH. MY. GOOOOOD. I love this. I love this. I love this. Secret baby? Yes, please. I adore this trope. I bow down to you for requesting this. I don't know who you are but I wish that I did. I can absolutely get behind a secret baby trope. I actually read a book recently that was a bit like that and I enjoyed it so so much.

I had an absolute blast putting this one together. Seriously. You totally indulged me here. Thank you!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, stalking, possessive behavior, second chances, pregnancy / unplanned pregnancy, parenthood, reunions, light angst

Word Count: 2.3k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle relaxes further into the couch. The air around him is slightly smoky.

He brings his vape to his lips and takes a hit. The action is calming, and that’s exactly what he wants. Kyle is rotting, and it feels fucking good.

Between missions, Kyle is always somewhere, but right not there is no reason for him to do anything. He can relax. He can watch reality television, eat himself to sickness, and wank off until his wrist hurts.

It’s bloody fucking brilliant.

Kyle isn’t attached. He has no kids. The only responsibility required of him is the one he has to himself. Which is why he’s splayed out on the couch in nothing but grey sweatpants and his vape. The television is on, and the volume is low. It’s mostly for background noise. Kyle isn’t really paying attention to it.

With a vape in one hand and his phone in the other, Kyle scrolls through his contacts. There are all the usual people there, but there are also a slew of general acquaintances and a long list of people he’s had it off with but never took anything further.

He pauses at one name, and old memories resurface.

They just happen upon him. Kyle doesn’t drag them up from the depths. They linger there, and Kyle remembers all the fun he had with you.

You were just a small fling. A few lengthy but deliciously good fucks that tops most of the sex he’s ever had in his life. There have been times since he last saw you—over a year now—that Kyle has thought about what could have been.

You were sweet. A potential partner. But Kyle didn’t follow through. He would regret it, but things can’t be taken back. There is no turning back the clock to change what has already occurred.

Kyle’s thumb hovers above the screen.

He shouldn’t. He really fucking shouldn’t.

But he does. Because why not?

Switching over apps, Kyle starts scrolling social media. He doesn’t usually give a shit about what’s happening in people’s lives, but he is curious about you. What are you up to? What are you doing? If you’re not attached, maybe he could call you up, rekindle what was once there.

You don’t have him blocked on anything—thank fuck—and Kyle delves into your socials, exploring your life. At first, the small infant in your arms is nothing to him, but then the tiny human keeps reappearing, and Kyle pauses.

Kyle scrolls a bit more. And stops.

Just three—no—four months ago, there are a slew of friends and family congratulating you on the birth of your son.

Your…son.

Kyle thinks back. Does the math in his head.

“Fuck,” he mutters, sitting up, gaze glued on the screen.

He scrolls back, studying every photo where your son is featured. Kyle’s heart slams in his chest. The features Kyle sees are features he sees every time he looks in the mirror.

“Fucking hell,” groans Kyle, the phone nearly slipping from his hands as he slumps back against the couch.

Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you contact him?

The very thought of you not reaching out doesn’t sit well with him. It sits heavy in his stomach.

“Fuck,” says Kyle, switching over to his contacts.

He finds Simon’s number and taps the call button.

It rings on the other end, and Kyle doesn’t think that he’ll answer. But he does.

“Kyle,” comes Simon’s gruff voice.

Kyle sighs. “I need you to track someone down for me.”

John Price

John doesn’t like cutting off contact with people.

He likes to keep in touch, even if it’s just an acquaintance. But things happen, like a fucked phone with no way to retrieve contacts, and the only people he’s able to retrieve are those he sees on a regular basis.

Your number is gone. And John has no way to get it back.

Legally that is. He could try and find you in the system. What information he has is minimal, but then again, the two of you only had a one-night stand. He’s prone to it since he’s never in one place. Always moving around.

John would like to settle down one day, but his work is his life, and it just doesn’t seem possible to have a family and be consistent with them when he’s constantly called away.

He chews it over while sitting in his office. It’s late, and there isn’t anyone else here but him. Late nights like this are calming to him—a time to process away from the events of the day. John has your first name, where you might live, and a general idea of what your number is. But he isn’t certain, and it’s hardly enough to go on.

Sighing, deciding he’d rather find you than not, John turns on his computer. It takes a while to get the classified systems he has access to. No one tracks what he does on here, and no one will think twice if they do happen to look. John runs lots of names and faces through this system.

John waits. Ponders. Enters in different spellings and every possible clue to try and seek you out. With every new search, John begins to lose hope. He might be completely fucked. Completely at a loss.

If this doesn’t work, he might not ever see you again. And for some goddamn reason, that bothers him.

He tries one last time, expecting nothing, only for his heart to drop into his stomach,

“There you are,” he murmurs, leaning forward, gaze sweeping over your passport photo.

Grabbing a piece of paper, John jots down your phone number and current address. He also notes your top place of employment. You might not be there anymore, but that isn’t an issue. He has enough.

John shuts off his computer and grabs his coat. He’ll try to reach out first by phone and go from there.

“You have the wrong number, bud.”

The man’s southern drawl irks John. “You sure?”

“Yeah I’m fucking sure. Quit calling.”

John frowns as the line goes dead. The number on file isn’t recent.

“Fuck,” mutters John, running his hand through his hair.

This is getting him nowhere. The only other option is showing up at your home or place of employment, but he can’t do that unless he’s on scheduled leave. That’s months away.

And each month is fucking agony.

When John finally makes it to your front door, nervousness sets in. This is completely fucking weird. Who the fuck shows up at someone’s door months after a one-night stand? Him apparently.

But fuck it. He’s here.

Either he does this and things go great, or things go to shit and he doesn’t need to worry about it anymore.

John takes a deep breath, and then pounds on the door. He takes a step back, hands in his pockets as he waits. There is a stretch of silence, and then he hears it—the turn of a deadbolt.

The door swings open, and there you are, just as beautiful from when he first saw you. At first, your brow scrunches in confusion, and then your eyes widen.

“John,” you breathe.

He smiles, and then his gaze drops as your hand moves away from the doorknob to land on your stomach. Your belly is round. Protruding. You’re—oh shit.

“Is that—”

“Yours?”

Fuck.

John glances up into your eyes and swallows.

You shift on your feet, one hand resting against the doorframe.

“It is,” you confirm.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon shouldn’t. Really—it’s fucked up. Wrong.

But he does it anyway because there is no fucking way he’s letting you go even if he has to watch from afar.

He’s done a lot of things he isn’t proud of, and losing you is near the top of the list. Not that he blames you for breaking it off. You had every right. Simon is always gone. Always away. And he rarely thought of you when he came home.

Communication can be a difficult thing for him. He knows this, and yet he couldn’t make an effort to do better with you. It wounds him. It does. Like a sharp blade to the gut.

But that is secondary now. Simon has dismissed it.

Sure, you’re not truly his now, but you’ll come back to him. He’ll make sure of it.

In the dark, Simon watches. Before him is a slew of screens and all of them show different angles of your home. Simon also has your phone tapped, and in another window, he can lurk through your messages and emails.

It’s where he first learned you were pregnant.

You know, and haven’t told him. Haven’t reached out in the slightest. Simon has to see all the results and tests come back via your email. He has to log into your medical portal to access specific things which is goddamn frustrating but he needs to know.

You are fucking pregnant. With his child.

It’s growing in your belly.

Even through the camera feed, Simon can see the swell of your stomach. He wants to be there, to stand beside you, and rest his hand against it. He wants to feel his son kick. Because you are carrying his son in your belly. Simon saw the results.

It’s fucking painful watching you like this.

He’s stayed away for a bit. Not engaging.

But you’ve broken it off before, and came back eventually.

Simon just needs an in again. All he has to do is figure it out, and then he can put away these fucking screens and surveillance. He can be by your side and be there when you give birth.

Leaning back in his chair, Simon observes every screen, his palm rubbing against his thigh as he considered his options.

He has to play this right.

He has to.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Do you think you’ll ever find your woman again?”

Johnny grins behind his pint glass. “If she’s here,” he replies.

The beer is perfectly cold and goes down easily. It’s refreshing since it’s so bloody hot outside.

Johnny didn’t think he’d ever come back to the little seaside town. He came between missions—a way to relax and get away for a bit. With only a few hundred residents, it seemed like the perfect place. What he didn’t expect was to meet a woman that upended his fatigue and made him glow a little brighter.

He learned your name while exploring a local pub. You were a pretty thing. Caught Johnny’s eye immediately. With several beers fueling him, Johnny struck up a conversation, and you were receptive to his charm—melting like butter over fresh toast.

That evening, the two of you jumped from pub to pub, having a bloody good time. It was fucking magical. Afterward, the two of you ventured back to Johnny’s hotel room. But the two of you didn’t have sex. It wasn’t until the next morning that Johnny actually fucked you.

Johnny had presented himself, you slid right into his arms. The hotel bed was well-used. There wasn’t a moment after that Johnny didn’t have his dick inside you. He kept you full and screaming his name for an entire fucking week.

But when that week was up, the two of you parted ways. You gave Johnny your number, and for a couple months, you were consistent in your texts and phone calls. Then it all changed, and you began to contact him less frequently.

Eventually, you didn’t talk to Johnny at all.

He was hurt at first. He tried to reach out. But Johnny didn’t hear a thing—and he left you to it. Maybe someone else arrived into your life. Johnny can respect that even if he doesn’t exactly like it.

It sucked then. And it still pains him a bit now. Johnny liked you when you left—and if he’s being entirely honest with himself—he still fucking likes you.

Maybe you’ll be here. Maybe you won’t.

Kyle is with him this time. A guy’s trip. Price isn’t one for vacations, and Simon has his own shit going on.

“We could try that pub again,” suggests Kyle. “See if she’s there.”

Johnny shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Did she live here?” asks Kyle.

Johnny nods. “Aye. Sure did.”

Kyle bobs his head. “We’ll find her.”

The two of them sit outside a small pub. The air is laced with salt from the ocean, and the sun is out, shining bright. It’s hot, but it’s a beautiful fucking day.

Johnny hums in agreement, bringing his pint glass back to his lips. For a moment, Johnny glances away from Kyle, looking out across the road where people walk along the pavement. He frowns.

Is that?

No. Can’t be.

His focus becomes a tunnel, and all he can see is the woman across the road. It’s you. There is no doubt. He knows that body, that hair and smile. You haven’t changed all that much. Not really.

There is another woman with you—a friend that Johnny met briefly before you and him went off on your own.

But that isn’t what has Johnny’s attention.

You’ve turned, and Johnny can see a swell to your stomach. Your hand cradles it affectionately.

“What is it?” asks Kyle, but his voice is distant.

“That’s her,” murmurs Johnny, his pint glass lowering back to the table.

You don’t see him. You’re chatting with your friend, features animated. The curve in your stomach is fairly large, and a deep twisting in his stomach arises, moving toward his throat.

“Oh fuck,” says Johnny as Kyle shifts to look in the direction Johnny is staring.

“Is that?”

“It fucking is.”

“She’s fucking pregnant.”

Johnny swallows. “Aye.”

He doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s likely the fucking truth. The baby is probably his. No wonder you stopped talking to him. Maybe you thought it best to cut off contact when you found out.

But that doesn’t sit right with him either. If you had told him, Johnny could have been there for you sooner—not finding out like this.

You throw your head back and laugh, playfully hitting your friend’s arm as she says something funny. When you wipe at your face, clearing tears, your gaze shifts, and all the humor leaves your face.

You’re staring right at Johnny.

And he’s staring back.

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izadi234 · 1 month ago

Text

Forget me not

-Warning: Contain yandere themes, neglected! gn!reader, mention of low self-esteem, the writer's first language isn't English. Yan! Batfamily x gn! reader Chapters Chapter 1 (You're here) Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 1

You can't remember a time when you didn't live under the roof of Wayne Manor. Those hallways that for a 4-year-old child seemed chilling and eternal, today you consider a prison. And no, they don't keep you locked up or anything like that, in fact they give you a lot of freedom within this house, but you can consider that so-called 'freedom' as negligence.

Yes, negligence. Of course you had clothes to wear, a bed to sleep in, a roof to shelter in, but what about love? If they could ask you if you have ever felt loved in your home, the answer would be simple.

No not once

Bruce Wayne, your father, may be one of the biggest billionaires in this world but it seems his love and attention was limited towards you. But, with your brothers? It seemed to be an endless well of love and patience that he gave them.

Unconditional love, something you always looked for.

Or maybe he was busy owning one of the most successful companies in the world or cosplaying a vampire to help the city.

Yes… in short, Bruce no longer knew what excuse to give himself for not spending time with you.

And your brothers? They weren't much better. Richard "Dick" Grayson may be very loving and charming but with you? You were just a zero on the left. He didn't think you needed attention as much as his traumatized brothers and sisters. You, being a normal civilian, knew that you were safe from anything, so he only limited himself to greeting you with that little smile that at first seemed warm to you, but now it just cracks your teeth to see it.

As if he were the perfect brother.

Jason Todd was everything to you until it became nothing. You met him in his days as Robin and the truth is he was nice to you and you had a good relationship with him (they are only three years apart). When Dick wasn't at the mansion he would play with you and let you watch him train. He was your greatest confidant, your best friend… Until the Joker killed him. When he came back to life you couldn't recognize him, was he really your brother? A being full of hate and revenge? So much so that even though he saw you once after years, he just turned around.

And although he already has a better relationship with his family, it seems that your loving relationship as brothers ended that day he died. He didn't even look at you, much less talk to you.

What a hypocrite.

You can't say anything about Timothy Drake. Seriously, and it's not because he's a great brother, it's because you've literally never talked to him. You only know of his existence because of the times Dick shouted his name in excitement at him every time he came to the mansion and because you found out that Todd wanted to kill him. Furthermore, your room and his are in the same hallway with the slight difference that your room was at the end.

Spoiled child...

Damian Wayne was a totally unique case. He was violent and explosive but apparently your father preferred him over you. Damian considered you a zero on the left. He never found value in you, neither in your physique (you didn't fight), nor in your mind (you're not outstanding) so he didn't waste even a second insulting you or degrading you.

According to him, you were just a nuisance to the Wayne family and a disappointment to the Batfamily. And it didn't matter if you were going to complain to Bruce about Damian's behavior, he always made excuses for it.

Is this how unconditional love looks like?

Cassandra Cain was another ghost like you inside the mansion... With the only difference that she did pay attention to her even though she didn't talk much. She was never interested in interacting with you even though you tried several times.

Even a mute could attract more attention than you...

Stephanie Brown. An extroverted girl who wasn't afraid to give her opinion, but apparently she didn't have any opinion about you. She always gets excited to see others and she was quick to look for things to do with them. But, if she saw you, she would just give you a slightly awkward smile and she would get out of there quickly.

She runs away from you like you have the plague.

Barbara Gordon is seen by most of the family as an older sister, however you see her as a grumpy secretary. You could be the most respectful person in the world towards her but just seeing you next to her asking what she was doing made her look at you as if you were a villain she is looking for.

I'm sure she hasn't seen a villain with the irritation she sees you with.

Duke Thomas is the new addition to the Wayne Family. You have nothing against him, he is a kind and smiling boy. Who you could even consider to be the kindest to you of all your brothers.

When he first came to Wayne Manor, despite you being a nobody in that family, he took an interest in you. At first you thought he did it out of pity, but when one day you heard him asking Alfred where you were because he wanted to show you something, that's when you realized he wasn't doing it out of pity. And that made you feel special, being the sibling Duke turned to.

But you couldn't help but hate how easily he integrated into the family. How easily they accepted him.

And last but not least, Alfred Pennyworth. He tried to be there for you and he encouraged you to keep trying to get your family's attention. But even with the butler's attention you couldn't help but long for the affection of your father and brothers.

You are more sure that without him you would have gone crazy in that big mansion.

For that reason, the only ones you would miss once you left that place would be Alfred and Duke.

"Would you be mad at me if I decided to leave the mansion?”

What a bad way to start a conversation.

You were sitting at the kitchen counter. As was custom you watched Alfred make breakfast, occasionally helping him. The butler, upon hearing your question, momentarily stopped what he was doing. Thanks to his poker face, Alfred didn't show any surprise but you knew well that he wasn't expecting that question.

"Pardon me, master (name)?”

"Would you forget about me if I left the mansion?" you asked

"Of course not!" Alfred quickly answered, his tone of voice a little high. However, upon noticing the change in his tone of voice he composed his posture again.

“I mean, of course I would never forget you, master (name). Why do you ask me those questions?”

"You know why Alfie" you sighed.

Alfred likewise sighed and turned off the stove where he was cooking. He walked over to you and sat down in front of you.

"Master (name)…" he was saying but you interrupted him.

"No Alfred… Could you let me talk… please..?" you asked gently but firmly

"Since I came to this place fifteen years ago I have always been part of the ghosts of this mansion and- and I got tired of being that. For a long time I have been thinking about moving somewhere else, away from this mansion, away from them…” You said that last sentence angrier but you controlled your temper.

"But… I can't leave knowing that you don't agree with my decision. I can't stand the thought of you being angry with me.”

You couldn't even imagine a world where he, Alfred Pennyworth, the man who decided to take your father's tablecloth, was angry with you. But even if he gets angry at your decision, you are going to follow your plan to leave the city.

Alfred smiled slightly and took your hand.

"You know very well that I would support you in whatever my little one does. Unless that decision put your life in danger of course" they both laughed at that comment.

"So that's a yes?" you asked with hope in your eyes and voice

"Yes" he nodded "Just take care of yourself"

You could see in his eyes that there was a bit of fear in his eyes as well as something else that you didn't know what it was and you didn't pay attention to it at that moment.

You should have paid more attention to him in that moment.

"Thanks Alfie" you hugged him regardless of the fact that the table was between the two of you. The butler hugged you anyway, his hug felt warm and safe.

"You don't have to thank me, Master (name)"

Then you broke away from the hug and ran to your room with a big smile on your face. You were finally going to be able to live the way you wanted, without living in the shadow of everyone. Finally free.

Once in your room you started making some calls and organizing your things quietly (not that the inhabitants of this mansion cared much about what you did) so as not to attract attention. In a week, this place will only be a bad dream and you will be able to move from this nightmare to a dream with a happy ending.

Or not?

Hellooo! I hope you liked the start of this story! To be honest, this has been something I have wanted to do for a long time. And Let me remind you that English isn't my first language so if you find some mistakes I would appreciate fo you to tell me in a good way.

Anyway, if you liked it I'll appreciate for you leave a heart.

See you in the next one!!

-Izadi <3

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casuallyanidiot · 2 months ago

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can you please do a surgeon reader with pathetic rich yandere? please and thank you for making so many good fics!

Thanks for the support!

Ooooh a needy, clingy, Yandere patient.... I like your thinking anon.

Tw. For self harm mention

Yandere patient grew up as a rich, spoiled kid with plenty of daddy's money and not enough spine. He's never had someone care about him if it wasn't for his money, even his parents don't really seem to love him beyond the basic obligations of making sure he wasn't dead or feral. His friends are all assholes who are also rich, university students that only seem to like him when he's drinking past the point of passing out, or when he buys them fancy dinners and meals as gifts. He knows that they are just leeches, but he doesn't have anyone else.

Yandere patient who gets pressured into doing a stupid stunt. He was drunk at the time, so he doesn't really remember much about what exactly he did, but he knew what happened afterwards: Broken legs, a spinal injury, a shattered wrist, and 15 stitches on his cherub like face.

You're assigned to be his surgeon, as it turns out. You tell him that since his injuries are so severe, he'll need to have multiple surgeries and come in frequently to ensure he's healed.

He understands, though a bit weary and exhausted.

Through the period of time that's he's kept in the hospital, you notice how no one ever comes to visit him. Yandere patient becomes withdrawn and almost a bit despondent, and you knew you needed to do something. He wont recover if his mentality isn't there, after all.

You spend a lot of time comforting him, spending time with him later in the evenings before you go home, and you chat with him for brief periods of the day.

Yandere patient feels the most affection he's ever received while bedridden in your care. He knows that for once, it's not just about money. Yes, this is your job, but he knows for a fact that you pay more attention to him than you would some of your other charges.

Yandere patient decides to move himself into the hospital until he recovers. There's not real point in being locked away in his gloomy yet opulent room, tucked away in some countryside manor. No, he'd rather be here with you so that he may relish in your constant doting. You are a bit hesitant when he tells you the news with such a bright, beaming face. You don't want to hurt the poor man's feelings since he's been through so much already, but you'd rather prefer to see him getting out a bit more and trying his hand at socializing. Still, you don't press him too much on the issue.

Yandere patient who realizes that whenever he makes a bit too much progress, you distance yourself ever so slightly. It gives him pause, and it makes his heart race in a not good way. He can't have you leaving him. Not when he's already begun to rely on you so much.

Yandere patient who messes up his stitches constantly. He looks up at you with big, watery eyes when you find him covered in his own blood. He feigns his clumsiness, but he can't help the pleasurable shudder that runs up his damaged spine whenever you fret over him.

Yandere patient who starts to try to make you move into one of the many family manors he resides in. He'll pay you an extraordinary amount if you'll let him be your only patient. Plus, it's in the countryside! Fresh air, beautiful gardens, privacy: What more could you want?!

He tries so hard to sell you on it, but you don't budge. He pouts like a child for a while afterwards, though soon he's back to his usually smiling self.

He's figured it out. He doesn't have to ask you! A simple multi million dollar bribe to the hospital here, a scheme to blacklist you there, and soon you'll be happy to only have eyes for him!

Yandere Patient is practically beaming when you show up to his estate, bags in hand. The money, the pain, the isolation... all of it was just a small price to pay for you to never leave his side again.

#yandere x reader #my writing #yandere #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere x you #x reader #answered asks #fanfic writing #yandere boy #yandere patient #rich yandere

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thisapplepielife · 1 month ago

Text

Written for @steddie-spooktober.

Of Wolf and Man

Eddie hears the growl, and freezes mid-step. He was just headed out to Skull Rock to make a quick deal with a jock too scared to meet at his usual picnic table in the woods, and this is what he gets for his trouble? About to be eaten by a wild fucking animal over twenty bucks worth of weed? Great, just great. He isn't sure what direction the growl came from, it sounded all around him, all at once. Like it was somehow beside him, below him, and above him. He scans as far as his eyes can see, then finally looks up, and when he does, there's a big dog standing on a rock overhead.

"Easy there, buddy," Eddie says, because he's an animal guy. He's not one to turn any species away, as a general rule. His brain suddenly unhelpfully supplies: kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, species. Which isn't gonna help him survive a feral dog attack, but honestly, take that, Mr. Johnston? He did pay attention in biology class. Both times.

It doesn't matter, but what does matter, is that he can usually charm anything into being his friend for a few minutes. Racoons, opossums, the occasional armadillo.

More cats than he'll ever be able to count.

Sometimes a stray dog, or two.

And that's when he realizes this is not a dog. It's a wolf. And there definitely shouldn't be any wolves roaming around just outside of Hawkins. It has to be someone's pet that has gotten loose. Those are legal in Indiana. Or: And his wheels really start turning here, if this one somehow doesn't already belong to someone else, maybe he could wrangle it into being his own pet.

Now, that's an idea. Wayne would shit, but a pet wolf would really make him seem like a bigger, scarier freak around town. He's kind of missed the daily fear and detestation since he squeaked out of Ms. O'Donnell's class, and therefore, high school. Diploma clutched in his fist.

Either way.

Dealing with a wolf is new territory. Very, very new.

And a little more terrifying, his fantasy of keeping it as a badass pet notwithstanding.

It's huge. Especially bathed in moonlight, looming overhead, where all Eddie can see is warm, golden eyes staring down at him, and a dark, pretty coat. The wolf is watching him, as if it's taking stock of Eddie's every move.

"Well, I'm gonna go my way, and you're gonna stay right there," Eddie says, holding his arm up, palm facing the big animal, and the wolf whines in a way that almost sounds like he's disagreeing petulantly with this command.

Eddie smiles, even if he's still a little terrified, "You don't want me to hang around. I'll cramp your style. Lay down."

And the wolf starts to do just that. Big body folding down into itself.

"That's a good boy. You're very pretty, you know?" Eddie asks. And it is a pretty animal. Lean muscle, wrapped in what he assumes is a heavy coat of soft fur.

He'd like to pet him.

That's how he'll die someday. Petting something he had no business touching. He's sure of it.

And the wolf whimpers, laying down on the rock, resting his chin on its huge paws, still watching Eddie with those mesmerizing eyes.

They almost glow out here in the moonlight.

How fucking cool is that? An actual wolf. In the flesh, and not just written into a campaign.

Eddie grins at him one more time, and then takes off in the direction he was headed in before he was interrupted by a huge fucking wolf.

Once he gets to Skull Rock, and sits down to wait, he hears the howl in the distance, and smiles. Hopefully the wolf doesn't have a pack hanging around that's less docile than he was.

He doesn't think about the wolf again, not much anyway, until the wolf shows up again, standing across the highway, right along the tree line, watching him. Eddie's putting three bucks in the van's gas tank, and it suddenly feels like he's been tracked here. Shit. Has he been tracked here? Does the wolf have his scent now?

Eddie should ignore it, but he can't. He makes eye contact, and the wolf sits. Like he's waiting. Eddie goes in and pays, and when he comes out of the Fair Mart, he looks both ways, then jogs across the two lanes of worn asphalt.

The wolf is still there, sitting patiently, watching as Eddie struggles to unwrap the Slim Jim he bought for the animal for some stupid reason, not nearly scared enough that he's about to be mauled.

Eddie isn't sure what to do now as he looks down at him. Does he throw it? Drop it? Hand feed him like he would a dog?

"Hi. Me again. I probably wouldn't have seen you if it wasn't so bright out tonight," Eddie says, making one-sided small talk, nodding his head towards the big, full moon overhead.

And then Eddie holds out the meat stick, an offer.

The wolf makes eye contact, and then gently takes it from Eddie's fingers, like he's being careful and Eddie grins, "That's a good boy."

And the wolf looks right at him, tail lightly dancing around, as if he understood that. Maybe he just got the tone. Dogs are good at that, right? Maybe wolves are, too.

But it still unsettles Eddie, just a little. It's too human, and the fact that it's a full moon suddenly isn't lost on him. He gets the lore behind that. And it kickstarts his imagination. Thrusting it into overdrive. Was it a full moon last time? Eddie thinks maybe it was, as brightly lit as the woods had been, even late at night.

But, it can't be. That's absurd. He needs to just go. Accept this for what it was, just another experience in his long line of animal whispering.

He's got band practice to get to, anyway. They always expect he'll be late, but still. He should go.

"Okay, I gotta go," Eddie says, and then adds, "Stay out of the highway, it's dangerous."

And he watches the wolf slink back into the trees, until he's gone from sight.

Eddie tries to ignore the persistent feeling, the one pulling at his brain, but he's only able to ignore it until the next full moon, when the wolf is back, lurking near the trailer this time, as if this time he was able to track him home.

Eddie lives like six miles from the gas station. He doesn't know the range a wolf has, but that seems far. Especially figuring in the wolf also being out Skull Rock the first night. He's covering ground, that's for damn sure.

The wolf comes right up to the dead patch of grass they call a lawn, and lays down, looking up at Eddie.

"Hi, again. I'm Eddie. And I think you're a werewolf," Eddie says, and the wolf whines, "Are you a werewolf? Are you a person?"

The wolf snuffles, and Eddie thinks that could be a yes. Or not. He doesn't exactly speak wolf.

"Who are you?" Eddie asks, as if the wolf can tell him that. "Are you someone I know?"

He doesn't get an answer, but he leaves the porch and sits down on the ground, crossing his legs under him. Right in front of the relaxed animal.

"Can I pet you?"

And the wolf leans in his direction. Eddie takes that as a yes, and buries his hand in the wolf's scruff, scratching him, deep and thoroughly.

His fur is rougher than Eddie had anticipated. But thick. Layers and layers of gorgeous, brown hair.

And the wolf gets closer and closer until he's resting his chin on Eddie's knee, where he falls asleep.

Eddie grins.

He has a pet wolf.

Hot damn.

And that cements the routine. A full moon is in the sky? Eddie has a temporary wolf pet. He feeds it, and pets it, and quickly finds out it loves to roughhouse. Launching itself at Eddie, taking him down to the dirt. Rolling him.

Butting at his head, his face, under his chin, licking him.

The first time he did it startled the shit out of Eddie, but after that, it's been expected. Eddie laughs, and the wolf barks. At least, Eddie's calling it a bark. It isn't the same as a dog barking, but it feels similar in usage.

Eddie finds an old rope in Wayne's shed, and they play tug-of-war until Eddie's sure his hands will blister. But if the wolf wants to play, Eddie isn't gonna pass up the chance to play with a wolf.

Eddie bought a pack of tennis balls at Melvald's, and sure enough, the wolf loves to chase them and bring them back to Eddie. A wolf that will play fetch. Who'd have thought?

It's probably because he's a human. Or half-dog. Eddie isn't sure. But, if he is a werewolf?

"Hey. Listen. If you are a person, and you do understand me, you could come find me, you know? On any of the other days that you aren't, you know, grrr," Eddie states, holding up his hands in monster fashion.

The wolf whines, and Eddie lets it go.

He's cool with just having a once a month wolf pal. It's honestly the best of both worlds. Exotic pet, but he doesn't even have to get a permit for it. Win-win.

The wolf howls.

"Too loud," Eddie admonishes.

And then it looks sad. Goddammit.

"Turn around," Eddie commands, and the wolf does exactly that. Eddie throws him a treat.

"Sit," and he does. Another treat.

"Beg," and that's the limit, apparently, because those eyes are looking at him like he's a goddamn fool. Eddie laughs, and tosses him the piece of lunch meat anyway. He's still a good boy. Even if he won't beg.

They spend all night together, until the wolf inevitably departs before morning light.

That's okay, he'll see him next month.

But when the next full moon has illuminated the night sky, the wolf hasn't shown up. It's several hours after dark, and Eddie's concerned. He's never this late, and now Eddie doesn't know where to search. The woods near the Fair Mart? Near Skull Rock again, where he first saw him?

He's not sure where his homebase is, his den, or whatever.

All Eddie knows is that it doesn't make sense. He wouldn't just not show up. Not after all this time.

Something's wrong. And the pit grows in Eddie's stomach, gnawing away, the fear and preemptive sorrow of the impending loss.

He's just developing a battle plan, when he hears the familiar whimper and whine. And there he is, coming up out of the trees. He's hurt. Wet, and filthy. Limping, tail tucked between his legs. There's a deep bleeding gash across his forehead. Dried blood matted into its fur.

Eddie panics, just for a second, then he scurries up the steps, holding open the trailer door. The wolf doesn't hesitate, just lumbers in, and flops down on the floor as if he can't go any further.

"What happened to you?" Eddie asks, then realizes he's not gonna get an answer.

Eddie's never brought him inside before, but he's doing it today. Eddie quickly shuts and locks the door behind them, as if whatever tore him up, might decide to, Eddie doesn't know, follow him inside? Unlikely. But still. Better safe than sorry.

"Stay right there," Eddie says, and the wolf huffs in a way that sounds almost sarcastic. Like, where else would I go, asshole?

Eddie smiles, and knows he's probably crazy. But still. It feels that way. This wolf, his wolf, seems funny. Can a wolf even be funny? Eddie isn't sure. But this one damn well is.

Wayne's probably gonna notice all the shedded hair, dirt and blood, and wet dog smell, but tonight Eddie's not gonna worry about it.

Tonight, he's gonna try to help his buddy out.

He's covered in mud, and he smells like a lake.

"You need a bath," Eddie declares and the wolf gets up and walks towards the bathroom like he agrees.

Eddie laughs, "Okay. Here's the deal. We're gonna pretend you're just an animal, alright?"

And the wolf stops in the doorway, Eddie tells him to come on, but he won't budge. Eddie tries to get a grasp on him to pull him along without hurting him, but it's fruitless. He's too strong.

"Very funny," Eddie says, "your stubborn dog that doesn't want a bath impression is, well, impressive."

The wolf thumps his tail and then comes right into the bathroom and carefully climbs up into the tub.

Eddie sprays him down to get him wet, then looks at the shampoo options, "Well, I hope wolves are okay with Pert Plus 2-in-1."

And the wolf honest to god growls, baring his sharp, white fangs, while giving Eddie the dirtiest look a wolf could muster.

Eddie isn't scared, but he is amused.

"Well, I'm so sorry, I don't have wolf shampoo. No Mane and Tail, here. Do you have a better idea, tough guy?" Eddie doesn't think rubbing him down with a bar of Irish Spring sounds any better.

But he watches as the wolf looks around the tub ledge, as if he's actually weighing the options, before he nudges a light-colored bottle off with his nose, sending it clattering around the slick tub, making a hell of a racket.

Eddie retrieves it. Apple Pectin. He assumes it must belong to Wayne's lady friend. It certainly isn't his or Wayne's, that's for damn sure.

"Alright, Mr. Fancy Pants. If you want your fur to smell like apples, that's on you."

And with the decision made, Eddie cleans him up carefully. Lathering him up, rinsing him off. After he's finished, and has dried him off the best he can with a towel, the wolf noses around the cabinets, which is curious. What's he looking for? Then he pulls out the cord of a hair dryer, one that has a comb attached.

"You've got to be kidding me?" Eddie asks, picking up the dryer.

Eddie's never seen it in his life. Wayne has no hair, and Eddie's definitely not a blown dry kind of guy. Must be Wayne's girlfriend's. Hope she doesn't mind a little wolf fur stuck in the teeth, because the wolf's not kidding, and he sits, eyes closed, like he's enjoying the heat as Eddie combs him dry. Eddie's very careful not to get it too close to any of his wounds.

Afterwards, once he's soft and fluffier than Eddie's ever seen the pampered mutt, Eddie wraps anything still bleeding, then sits down and pats the couch cushion next to him. The wolf doesn't hesitate. Just jumps up letting out a soft growl that was surely pulled out of him by launching off his injured leg.

"I know it must hurt," Eddie says, as he pets him gently. The wolf lays his head on Eddie's thigh, and whines pitifully. Then turns his head, like he's watching the muted television right along with Eddie. Eddie looks down at him by the only light in the darkened room, the flickering screen.

Eddie falls asleep there, with the warm, heavy weight leaning against him. And when he wakes up, still hazy with sleep, he opens his eyes just enough to witness the wolf nudging at the lock with his nose, and then the door is open, the wolf is gone, and the only proof he was ever there is lightweight trailer door lightly banging from the early morning breeze.

After a few more hours of sleep, Eddie realizes there isn't much to eat in the house, and that means he's gonna have to finally do the grocery shopping he's been putting off before Wayne actually kills him.

And later, as Eddie's coming out of the Big Buy, bags in hand, he nearly runs into Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington, with a bandaged forehead and a slight limp. Smelling slightly of apple shampoo.

No fucking way.

Eddie's eyes widen.

"It's not what you think," Steve immediately says, which is suspicious.

Eddie raises an eyebrow.

"Okay. It's exactly what you think," Steve says, folding like a cheap suit.

And Eddie laughs, all his teeth showing, fucking thrilled by this turn of events. Steve Harrington. Eddie wouldn't have guessed him if given a million tries.

"Steve Harrington is my pretty, pet wolf," Eddie crows.

Steve snorts, "I'm not your pet, Munson."

"All the lap sitting says otherwise."

"I've never sat on your lap!"

"You would if you could, big boy," Eddie teases.

And Steve gives him just a hint of a grin, "Yeah, yeah. Um, you're not gonna tell anyone else about this, right?" Steve asks, looking at the blacktop of the parking lot, "Because if I need a head start outta town, just say so."

"From one freak to another, nope. I didn't see anything."

Steve smiles, "Thanks. Because I'm not exactly broadcasting this information."

Eddie makes a move as if he's locking his lips, and then he throws away the imaginary key.

They go their separate ways, and Eddie assumes that's the last he'll see of the wolf, and probably Steve Harrington, too.

And he can't help but be a little sad about it.

Eddie tries to distract himself. But his mind keeps telling himself that Steve Harrington, wolf or not, isn't gonna come hang out with Eddie "The Freak" Munson again now that Eddie knows who he is under all that fur. And Eddie hates it.

He's playing penny can with Gareth outside the house, taking turns tossing the coins from the step into an old coffee can, under the light of the full moon, when he feels eyes on him.

Looking to the right, standing just around the edge of the trailer, is Steve peeking in their direction.

"Hey, you're here! C'mon, boy!" Eddie calls out, lighting up at the sight of him, and Steve rounds the corner like a happy dog. Tail flicking around nearly in circles as he prances, bopping around as he comes towards Eddie.

"That's…that's a wolf!" Gareth shouts, scooting backwards.

"Calm down, he's my friend, aren't you?" Eddie asks, and Steve pounces up on him, paws on Eddie's shoulders, licking his face.

"Whoa, hey there, it's good to see you, too," Eddie laughs, trying to get him to calm down.

"You have a pet wolf?! Since when?" Gareth screeches.

"Sssh, do you want Mrs. Wilson from down the way sticking her nose into our business?" Eddie asks, then reiterates, "And I said he's my friend, not my pet."

"You can't be friends with a wolf, Eddie, that's crazy, even for you," Gareth insists, and Steve raises his head and growls, just a little.

Gareth clambers up and into the safety of the trailer, and Eddie laughs, looking down at Steve's warm eyes. He gets it now. Can totally see that these eyes are similar to Steve Harrington's, "That's not nice, you know. Picking on the little scaredy cat. It's like something you'd see in, I don't know, high school."

And the wolf whines.

"Hey! I'm not a scaredy cat! That's a goddamn wolf! I'm just smarter than you!" Gareth yells through the door, and Eddie laughs.

Steve snuffles, and lays his head on Eddie's thigh. His rowdy greeting apparently over with, content to let Eddie pet him.

Eddie strokes him gently, and whispers, "I'm glad you came back."

Gareth is still watching from behind the glass, and Eddie tilts his head far enough back to see him, "Look at him? He's a sweetheart. He won't hurt you. Come back out here."

And Gareth does, but he's still clearly leery of this whole situation. But he sits back down, eventually asking, "Can I pet him?"

"I don't know, you better ask him," Eddie says, because it's definitely not his place to let anyone else manhandle Steve if he doesn't want to be touched by them.

But Steve stretches his head over, indicating that he'd be open to this additional petting.

"It's almost like he understands us," Gareth says.

"He's a smart boy for sure," Eddie answers, scratching Steve behind the ear, before patting him on the butt.

Steve whips his head around and nips at Eddie's hand, then licks it, "Okay, okay, no butt pats. You're not a cat. Got it. Sorry."

"Does he have a name?" Gareth asks.

Eddie doesn't miss a beat, "Harry."

"Well, that's original," Gareth snarks, but Eddie doesn't care. He's not giving Steve Harrington a dog name. And he can't exactly call him Harrington. That'd raise questions Eddie's not prepared to answer.

"Well, he is hairy, ain't he?" Eddie asks, and Gareth can't help but nod, and it pleases Eddie.

Wolf Steve hangs with them all night, until morning threatens to peek over the horizon, and then he slinks away into the pre-dawn light to presumably turn back into a real boy.

"You're friends with a freakin' wolf. Like you're Snow White or some bullshit," Gareth whispers, and he sounds a little awed as they watch the wolf go.

Hell, Eddie's awed, too.

And Eddie's gonna miss him. One night a month isn't enough.

But he'll just have to wait. Eddie can be patient.

Maybe.

He doesn't have to be patient for long. The next night while Eddie is stretched out on the couch, there's a knock at the front door. When he answers it, there's Steve Harrington, in full human form, looking back at him.

"Harrington," Eddie greets, but Steve's not beating around the bush.

"So, about those butt pats," he says, and Eddie throws his head back and laughs as he opens the door even wider. An invitation.

Was that a pick-up line? If so, at least it was original.

Steve can't be serious.

But Steve crosses the threshold, and two can play at this game. He'll play chicken with Steve on this, so Eddie jerks his head to the right, "Bedroom's back there, big boy."

Steve doesn't hesitate, he steps towards him, and starts corralling him towards the back of the trailer, through the kitchen, applying pressure, guiding, without even touching him, somehow.

And as he does it, he's shedding clothes. Confident in a way Eddie could never dream of being.

Holy shit. Steve Harrington is really getting naked, as he's backing Eddie's towards his bedroom.

Eddie pedals backwards, just watching, letting Steve encroach on his personal space, and then, his bedroom.

Eddie wonders if being a wolf just makes you more open, more free.

He's not sure, but he scurries along backwards, and once they're both in the bedroom, Steve kicks the door closed behind them. Eddie tugs his shirt over his head, trying to catch up before Steve changes his mind.

Then Eddie pauses:

"If you bite me, will I become a wolf?"

Steve rolls his eyes, "I'm not going to bite you."

Eddie pauses, "Well, what if I bite you?"

"Why would you bite me?" Steve asks, a confused wrinkle forming across his forehead.

"I mean…" Eddie trails off, nodding towards the bed.

"Don't make me regret this decision, Munson," Steve says dryly, but he's amused. Eddie can see it in his eyes.

Eddie isn't sure why Steve made this decision at all.

"Why are you here, for this, with me anyway?" Eddie asks. He needs to know. They've barely spoken to each other since high school. As far as Eddie knows, Steve only fucks girls. But now he's here, like he owns the place, corralling Eddie to bed?

He's having trouble processing all this new information at once. Eddie's friends with the wolf version of Steve, sure, but he wouldn't say the same for human Steve Harrington.

"Because I've realized I like you. Because you were nice to me, in wolf form. You weren't scared-"

"I was scared shitless!" Eddie interrupts, and Steve laughs.

"For like the first second. After that you were pretty fucking cool about a wolf all up in your face. Don't lie."

"Well…"

"Well, nothing," Steve snips, then his voice softens, "You understood what I most likely was and didn't care. Even if you didn't know who I was, you were pretty fucking chill about me coming to hang out."

Eddie nods. That's true, he didn't care. He'd made a friend, as wolf-shaped as it was.

"You gave me a bath."

"Hey! I thought we agreed you were just an animal during that," Eddie argues.

Steve smiles.

"Before you, the full moons were lonely. And I dreaded them. But you changed that," Steve explains further, "And after we bumped into each other at the grocery store, I was fucking mad, man. Like, running into you, having you find out that way, it felt like it was the end of something I really looked forward to every month. But then I never heard even a whisper of a rumor that you'd told anyone what you'd figured out."

"I haven't told anyone. Didn't especially think they'd believe me if I did," Eddie laughs. But honestly, it never crossed his mind to gossip. The wolf had been good to him, and he figured it was the least he could do to be nice back.

Tit for tat, as it goes.

For Steve Harrington, or anyone else.

"And I'm grateful. I think it's just me around here," Steve says, "I never see any other wolves."

"How'd you become a werewolf, if there's no other werewolves around? That doesn't make a lick of sense," Eddie asks.

"It was a Russian torture drug that turned me. When the mall burned down? I wasn't bitten by anything."

"No shit?" Eddie asks. He's heard rumors of what actually happened at the mall, picked up and filed away snippets of information the sheepies have dropped in his presence without realizing it, but he's never heard about Russian torture.

Steve nods.

"I don't know if they did it on purpose or not. Robin didn't have it happen to her. Just me. So, before you found me, I was just lone wolfing it during full moons, and hoping everything went okay. Robin hated that I was all alone, but it was what it was. Then, I found you."

Eddie nods, and looks at Steve, chest full of hair. He didn't have that in high school, as far as Eddie remembers.

"Side effect?" he asks, pointing to his chest.

"Yeah, a little. I mean, I wasn't bald or anything before, but it's sure filled out. Age or wolf, I don't really know."

Steve Harrington really turns into a freakin' wolf.

Eddie reaches forward and combs his fingers through Steve's chest hair, and Steve tilts his head back, and whines.

Oh fuck. Eddie's done for. This is it. The end of him.

It's familiar, and different, all at once. It's Steve.

Eddie's dick is so goddamn hard, straining against the zipper of his jeans, but all he wants is for Steve to keep making those noises.

He'll let Steve fuck him. Hell yes, he will. He'll roll over like, well, a fucking wolf, he supposes. Bare his neck. Get mounted. Claimed. Whatever Steve wants, needs.

Only, that's not what happens. His daydreaming was a little bit off, as Steve flops on Eddie's bed, naked, legs spread open. Hand on his hard cock, stroking it as he watches Eddie.

Eddie isn't even sure where to look. Steve's hairy thighs, his hairier chest, the aforementioned gorgeous cock now laying heavy against Steve's belly. Or his very obviously glistening hole.

"Holy shit," Eddie says, asking, "you want me to, you know?"

Steve laughs, and Eddie isn't even sure where it comes from, but Steve's flicking a condom Eddie's way. Eddie bumbles it a bit, but catches it in two hands.

Okay, okay. Shit. He can do this.

Steve wants him to do this?

"You don't, like, want me to submit to you?" Eddie asks, undoing his belt buckle, eyes trained on Steve's. He would.

Steve laughs, "Not really. I want this."

"Okay," Eddie says, "cool. That's cool."

"Cool," Steve repeats, mocking him a little bit as Eddie's jeans hit the ground, like he can't help but be amused by Eddie. And Eddie likes that.

Eddie crawls on the bed, and slides one hand into Steve's hair, pulling back a little, and Steve whimpers. He leans down and presses his lips to Steve's, kissing him for the first time and eventually Steve opens his mouth, breathing into Eddie's mouth.

Eddie pulls back, "That's a good boy."

And Steve's dick jumps against Eddie's belly, leaking precum between them as he whines, and oh, he's a good boy, indeed.

Eddie takes his hand from Steve's hair, and slides it down his body, bypassing his cock, grazing his thigh instead, before sliding to the inside, and down, under his balls, fingers brushing against Steve's already slick hole. Eddie slides one finger in, then two, and three, and realizes Steve wasn't fucking around. He's gotten himself ready. For Eddie.

Goddamn.

Rolling the condom down his own cock, Eddie thinks his hands are trembling. He can't believe this is happening.

"Hey," Steve says, leaning up onto his elbows, "look at me."

And Eddie does.

"We don't have to do this. If this isn't what you wan-"

"It is," Eddie interrupts, "fuck, it definitely is."

"Okay then," Steve answers, laying back again, and then he slides one foot along the bedding, dragging it upwards, until his knee is bent. He's fucking gorgeous, and confident, and for whatever reason, wants Eddie. It's. It's, yeah. "Whenever you're ready."

Eddie's ready now, and he slots himself between Steve's thighs, lifting him up a little as he lines up and presses inside, deeper and deeper until he's bottomed out.

His dick is in Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington is his wolf.

Steve whines, and Eddie takes the cue, and starts fucking him in earnest. Cock sliding in and nearly out easily, his balls slapping against Steve's skin with every rough thrust as he builds up a rhythm.

He's fucking Steve Harrington, and Steve Harrington is liking it by the sounds he's making. By his actions.

Fingers digging into Eddie's shoulders, his back, his ass, spurring him on.

It's not gonna last long. Eddie's too overstimulated by everything that's happened, and might happen again, in the future.

He wraps his fist around Steve's dick, wanting to get him off first, and as soon as Steve comes all over his own hairy belly, Eddie slams back into him, chasing his own orgasm. Coming inside him, filling the condom, with a long groan.

Eddie never wants to leave, but he eventually pulls out, and gets up to dispose of the condom. He grabs his shirt and wipes Steve's stomach halfway clean, and then stands there, unsure what comes next.

Is Steve gonna go? Gonna stay?

Stay apparently, because Steve opens his arm, and Eddie crawls into bed, sliding up against him. Sweat-slick bodies slotting together until they find a comfortable position.

Laying with him, the afterglow making his mind fuzzy, Eddie wonders if wolves mate for life.

He sure fucking hopes so.

When the next full moon fills the night sky, Eddie borrows Uncle Wayne's truck, and holds open the passenger door for his wolfie, watching as Steve easily hops in. Eddie rolls down the window with the hand crank, since Steve can't do it for himself in wolf form, and then goes around and slides into the driver's seat.

Enrichment, that's the plan. Steve doesn't need to spend all of his full moons cooped up in the trailer. He needs to be free. Wild. Run around. Feel the wind blow through his fur, or whatever. Eddie doesn't want to tame him, only love him.

So, Eddie takes him out into the country, driving the winding dirt backroads, until he finds a wide-open space, a field where Steve can run. Eddie runs with him, not nearly able to keep up with his speed, and once Eddie's quickly worn out, he sits down in the soft grass, intent to keep watching.

But Steve runs up and nudges Eddie under the chin with his snout, rubbing all over him, and Eddie lets him do it, Eddie eventually collapsing onto his back. Then, Steve crawls on top of him, the heavy weight of the wolf pushing him into the ground below. Eddie feels Steve's stomach growl against him, and he knows they'll meet Robin for breakfast in the morning, where Steve will absolutely decimate a huge stack of pancakes and anything else from their plates that he can get his hands on.

Wolfing makes his boyfriend hungry. And Eddie chuckles: boyfriend. Steve Harrington is his boyfriend.

And his wolf, who is currently licking Eddie's face, making him squirm and laugh harder as Eddie scritches the back of Steve's neck.

He's a good boy, Eddie's good boy, somehow.

And once Steve's tired himself out, Eddie loads him up into the truck, grinning as they head back to town. Glancing between the open stretch of road before him, and Steve beside him, hanging his head out of the open window, howling at the moon.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, pop over to @steddie-spooktober and follow along with the spooky fun! 🐺

Notes: Title is from the Metallica song of the same name. Pert Plus 2-in-1 came out in 1987, so I guess it's at least 1987 here, lol. Apple Pectin was a real shampoo. It was discontinued. RIP, Apple Pectin. I haven't actually smelled you in thirty years, but your scent is still seared into my brain.

#steddiespooktober #prompt: werewolf #steddie fic #steddie #stranger things #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #stranger things fic #gareth stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: spooktober

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ak319 · 3 months ago

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Lovesick Rich Gf x Fem gp reader🛍️💋

(Headcanon)

(Warnings: Toxic love, obsessed, implied sexual content, possessive themes, blackmailing,)

Roxi Moores, your girlfriend is the daughter of Altan Moores, owner of the Mooranda hotel chain which is their family-owned business. That's right, their family is half Turkish and half English. Not to forget she is an international model. You, however, were a simple college student who got a job at one of the Hotel branches as a server.

Roxi was one of those people who didn't pay much attention to the people catering to her as she was always used to being pampered. But when you came to take her order dressed in that white dress shirt, with a notepad in your hands, and greeted her and her girlfriends in that cushioned urbane voice, she nearly folded right there. That night is what Roxy now celebrates as your guys' "Love at first sight anniversary" even though it was only one-sided and your ass was so aloof at that time of serving her. You didn't even know until she left that she was the owner's DAUGHTER!

Anyway, Roxi had set her eyes on you and you are damn wrong if you think she doesn't get what she wants. It's not like she lacks anything. She has charisma, looks, and money, though she could tell you were not a person to fall for someone's wealth so she had to work hard. And really hard to get such an attractive, nice woman like you at her feet.

Her alluring blue eyes made you weak in the knees, not to forget her honeyed voice and her luscious caramel brown hair. You began to see her more at the dining and eventually, you responded to her flirting too sometimes but there was this nagging voice at the back of your head reminding you of your status and how it might be so wrong and disastrous to date Altan's only daughter. But she convinced you and convinced you well ♡ by easily luring you into her suite. God, you couldn't believe how you even scored that night just by getting a job there.

Your apprehension about her father's opinion was cleared when she out of the blue once brought him for not more than 5 minutes due to his busy schedule and introduced you. To this day you still wonder how you kept your composure when meeting a billionaire as his daughter's GF and as a lowly SERVER and that too in a WEEK of DATING?! Well to be fair at that point you thought that you were still in a situation-ship but Roxi made no mistake of reminding you that you were her girlfriend.

Then, your relationship with her began and you had no idea how your life would change when looking back on it now.

She was cute, smart, and elegant. You absolutely adore how she is attentive towards you. She listened to your rants about your college dramas and would be like a strict parent if you missed one day of your gym. Yes, she would be MAD if you didn't work out. She is obsessed with your abs and will even put stickers on them or would doodle with her glitter Sharpies giggling after riding you dry while you are laying there still trying to find your ass in the milky way. Not that you minded but now you didn't get to skip the workout and would have to send her a snap as soon as you step into the gym. She is the one who sits on your back like a princess as you do pushups or makes you do them on top of her for practice as she pays you with kisses on each one you do.

She would give you a private catwalk trying to distract you from studying or your game time by trying on the sensual nighties she could get her hands on. Passwords are non-existent between you both and don't you dare remove her picture as your wallpaper. You can only change it to a different picture. She does the same with her phone.

As this was your first serious relationship, you were indulging in the way she made it so magical for you but you were also overwhelmed. Because having a brand customize a couple perfume sets and bracelets only for you both seemed too much to you. Whenever you put forward your complaint of her spending her money on you as it literally made you feel spineless, she would throw tantrums and cry and let it be known that her tantrums are not easy to control. Thank God, you chose to discuss this problem at her house and not yours because your family would have their wits blown away if they witnessed this side of hers instead of the sweet humble chic girlfriend one.

Roxi, your number one supporter will be at your every (fave sport) match at your college, cheering you but she always looked so prim and proper while doing it. You never understood how she did it. When it comes to your attention and the competition, Roxi is gravely calm and it can be quite chilling for you as she is the clingy type. But she is indeed a secure and confident person and she trusts you too. The other girls don't even stand a chance against her so why give a fuck?. But little do you know that if she catches you initiating something ever, your life is going to get W-R-E-C-K-E-D. Thank God you’re loyal—one of the many things she loves about you. So don't ever forget that she is the only girl in your life. The scratches on your back remind you daily anyway. She never lets them heal.

How does she even-aren't her nails oval?! Nevermind.

It was however the other way around. You were the possessive one and she relished in the fact that you didn't like her wearing too revealing clothes not because you were insecure, you just didn't trust other people and the way they might think of her in their minds. Roxi didn't mind one bit as she wanted to be dolled up only for you.

The moment when she first found out you were pursuing a business-related degree, she had already formulated and decided every step of your future and you didn't even know. She was going to make you into a perfect daughter-in-law for her parents, especially her father. She was tired of being spoiled by her dad and wanted the role to be passed on to you now. She had already tested you multiple times and seeing how you gave 0 shits about her money made her more determined every time.

So as soon as you graduated she tried to convince your stubborn hardworking ass to first stop with this part-time job of a server for God's sake but you were persistent and did it alongside a corporate one but not in her dad's company. This enraged her further to her core. She couldn't stand the thought of you licking someone's shoes just to get a few bucks! In her mind, the server job was way better as at least it was her dad paying you and not some other bastard. She really remained patient with you whether it was when you took her on dates or when you gifted her something as she just loathed the fact that it was bought from the extra money that you were earning through your other job. After having enough of this bullshit, one day she just stormed into your office and grasped the attention from every corner. Some recognized her, and some were plain curious to see such a beautiful woman with such a furious look. She barged into your boss's office and demanded them to fire you. You ultimately calmed her down and controlling your own anger, escorted her out.

That was the day you cut it off with her...at least you thought you did. Well, you got fired anyway since your boss found out whose daughter she was and didn't want any trouble. You got texts from her, ranging from apologies to straight-up threats of you not ever getting a job anywhere in the world. At this rate, you had resigned from your serving job because of her and were depressed. Your family instead of supporting you took her side as she had hypnotized them with her sweet and caring nature. They wanted you to just accept the job at Mooranda International. And you did that eventually when her father came to your doorstep and took you to his company and hired you as his executive assistant which was such a big role for you.

You started your job and honestly, it felt robotic. Your soul wasn't in it and how can you forget the way it was handed to you, in a literal gold platter but make it a platter full of thorns and spikes that you just had to accept no matter what.

As far as Roxi is concerned, she visited you in the office as if nothing had changed between you two and soon you realized that you were trapped in this situation both by her and her father and could only act as if nothing had occurred. She re-entered your life and things slowly returned back to normal, and if you consider getting a mansion, luxurious cars and access to a private jet normal, then yes. Everything is normal.

You both live together now and Roxi finally got what she wanted. Making you spoil her every day by demanding things left and right. She fantasized about waking up every day and seeing you get ready to go work with her father and it was finally true!. Every morning she would make sure the maids got breakfast perfectly cooked to your liking and the favourite part of hers was to see you off with a kiss. After that either she went for shoots or just spoiled herself to look pretty for you when you came back.

Her father on the other hand made sure to be ten times harder on you than other employees to make sure you are ready to one day take his position and be a good wife to his lovely daughter. Despite his reservation of having his daughter date a server from his own hotel, he had taken a liking to you. He still remembered her tears when you both temporarily broke up and he sure as hell is not letting his baby cry again over your ass. After all, his dearest daughter always gets what she desires.

Speaking of desires, Roxy is insatiable when it comes to you. Now more than ever since you look so fucking sexy wearing suits and dress shirts. The way you drive the latest Bugatti La Voiture Noire with those hands of yours, one of which always has to be on her thigh or she's jumping out. She puts on the playlists she makes for you. It is so hot to see you be so serious and focused on driving and even working when she is all over you. Knowing that at the end of the day, you will fuck her anyway.

She never fails to blush when you serve her sometimes as it reminds her of the first time she met you. Her shyness and that dreamy look in her eyes make you serve her more often than ever that now it has become a habit at dinner time.

Don't for a second dare to think that you can wear white and not have her clinging to you to put a lipstick stain on various parts of your shirt. Seeing you embarrassed makes her giddy but she still doesn't let you clean them and instead makes you wear a coat.

Roxi really wants to sometimes make those adorable Tiktoks of relationship aesthetic but she knows you are not a fan of showing off and she kind of agrees with this notion as she doesn't want anyone's evil eye to befell upon your relationship. So instead she just makes such videos for her private account and posts some of yours in which either your back is facing her from the balcony as you're enjoying your (tea/coffee) or you're holding a bouquet for her, your face covered by the flowers. Such media in which the relationship is not that OTT. She loses herself in the attention you get online when people are curious about you, thirsting over you or whether it's her own friends congratulating her on catching such a fine specimen as you. The fact that nobody can steal you away from her no matter how much they try, always makes her day.

Now, her plan is to be your wife. She is just waiting for the day you pop the question. But she knows you are going to make it special so she can wait. She will wait. But it is so unfair that she has to. She has never waited for anything in her life and now, for the thing she wants the most, she has to. She could propose to you but she doesn't want it that way! She wants you on your knees for her. She is your everything, isn't she? And it's not like she doesn't have other plans on standby if you show no signs of wifing her up...

She had a previously failed engagement with a gold digger douchebag that her father chose for her and it was vile. She is not going to be treated like that ever again and you have proved yourself to be worthy of her and treated her better than her ex-fiance whom you hated too just by hearing about him treating your princess like shit. So she knows you love her beyond words at this point.

A snippet🤍

"Why didn't you respond to my texts?! You knew we had a golf date planned!". Your ears were not prepared for that shriek after the hectic day you had.

"Baby-I said sorry and can you-"

"NO! You are not going to work tomorrow and we are spending all day together. You hear me?! Don't you dare ignore my texts again!" She dug her nails on your shoulders.

She was currently on your lap in the tight golf outfit she wore specifically for you. How did she even think you would take her out in the skirt she’s wearing? She is indeed playing right now. But she couldn't stop teasing you with the way she moved on your lap and you knew she was doing it to make you more pissed.

"That's it." You carried her over your shoulder and onto the bed and Roxi couldn't be more happier. Good thing that she had already thrown away the condom packet.

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sv5hive · 8 months ago

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'cause when you know, you know | cl16

pairing(s): charles leclerc x fem!reader

content warning(s): mentions of drinking

word count: 708

note: i haven't posted anything in so long i hope you didn't forget me 🫣🫣

masterlist!

"this is who i was talking about! charles leclerc, you know, the racing driver i mentioned?"

reluctantly, he looked up from the drink in his hands to introduce himself to you. in all honesty, the first half of the season had been tougher on him than usual and he just wanted to be left alone.

that plan was derailed the moment his eyes landed on you.

as he took you in he failed to notice your outstretched hand, waiting for his.

idiot.

it wasn't his fault you looked like an angel in that white dress which seemed to hug your body perfectly, your skin glowing in the warm sunset and eyes twinkling much like the fairy lights illuminating the rooftop. it's almost as if a switch was flicked in him and all the fatigue left his body at the sight of you.

he was definitely in trouble.

"nice to meet you. i hope he hasn't told you too many stories about me." was all he was able to get out while still in a daze.

"nice to meet you too. don't worry, he's only told me the good ones!"

you even had the voice of an angel.

the conversation flowed easily with the steady stream of drinks from the bar. at some point near the beginning of your conversation, your mutual friend had abandoned you, leaving the both of you to lean against the wall in a secluded corner. neither of you minded though, as you spent hours learning almost everything about each other from your careers and families to your favourite dishes and childhood pets. somehow, you had managed to ignore everyone else at the party and stay by each others side in that corner the entire time. you looked around you only to find out you two were the last ones left up on the quiet roof. not that it mattered; you could've spent lifetimes talking to charles, shoulders pushed together, hands almost touching but jumping apart whenever they got too close, just talking about whatever came to mind.

the sun had long since dipped below the horizon and the moon was now glimmering in the waves. charles took the opportunity to admire you in his slightly drunken state before he lost the little confidence he had suddenly gained.

a cool breeze had come with nightfall and danced through your hair as you gazed at the sea through lidded eyes. the moon reflected on your face like a spotlight, magnifying your beauty to him. it felt like the universe was giving him a sign, screaming at him to not let you slip away. even if he wanted to ignore the universe, he couldn't. not when he had already felt himself falling the second he saw you and lost all common sense. a permanent, dopey smile rested on your mouth while you nursed the last remainders of your drink. whether you were smiling because of him or the several drinks you had he didn't know, but he certainly hoped it was the former (it was).

he had just met you a few hours ago but in that instant he knew this would be the story he would tell your all your friends and families over and over again until they could repeat it from memory. he could see it all so clearly.

they would ask how he knew you were the one and he would recount this exact moment, where you weren't even really paying him any attention and instead opting to stare out into the endless sea. they wouldn't understand but when they did and they wondered if they've found the one, he would be there to tell them that if you really have to ask yourself, then they aren't the one. because when you know, you know.

"what are you thinking about?" you had realised the silence had stretched on for much longer than what felt normal.

"hmm?"

despite charles drinking several glasses of liquid courage, he still couldn't form a proper sentence around you.

"i said, what are you thinking about? you look very, concentrated."

"nothing, don't worry."

"whatever you say."

he studied your features once more before shaking his head and smiling to himself.

"come on, it's late. let me walk you back."

#cl16 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 x you #cl16 one shot

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barcaatthemoon · 1 month ago

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obvious || ruesha littlejohn x reader ||

Both you and Ruesha are a bit oblivious to your feelings for each other.

Your feelings for Ruesha hit you like a ton of bricks in the midst of a shit storm. It was like your whole world was being spun around onto its head, and then, you had a crush on your national team captain's ex. Ruesha and Katie weren't getting back together, but a part of you was terrified about what might happen if you acted on your feelings. Their breakup was messy, and despite claims that there weren't sides on the national team, you knew that wasn't true.

At first, you had been on Katie's 'side' of things. She was your Arsenal teammate and captain, not to mention a family friend. She had been a great mentor in your football journey. Ruesha had always been there in the background of things. She had been Katie's girlfriend for the majority of the time that you'd known her, and even before they broke up, you had harbored a little crush on the woman.

Ruesha was a loud troublemaker, and everybody told you that nothing good would come from associating with her. You let yourself hang out with her a bit, but kept your distance as much as you could. At least you had until Jonas dropped you down a league. Once you found yourself having to show up to London City Lioness practices, things started to change a bit.

"Celtic are mad for not taking you," Ruesha muttered as the two of you watched a stream of their first Champions' League game. Shebhan was taking meticulous notes on it while you and Ruesha were lounging on the couch, half paying attention. Ruesha was easily distracted while you hadn't been able to keep your eyes off of her. "You'd be tearing it up right now, I just know it."

"Eh, there's always the future. I've got a few good seasons left in me," you said. Ruesha glanced over just as you reminded yourself not to look so sad. You were happy to be playing with Ruesha at London City, even if it wasn't Arsenal. You had wanted to leave the club, but you hadn't ever expected to get traded down a league.

"Don't worry about them, bunch of idiots if you ask me." Ruesha put her hand on your knee, squeezing slightly. You swallowed nervously as you looked over at her, and for a moment, you thought that maybe you saw something in her eyes that was quickly covered up. "Think on the brightside, if you'd gone to Celtic, then we wouldn't be playing together."

"You're meant to be cheering her up, Ruesha, not giving her depression," Shebhan teased. Ruesha immediately put all of her attention into kicking at and trying to fight with her sister while you watched. You laughed it off a little, glad to have a moment to steady your racing thoughts. Being close to Ruesha like this was definitely easier than it had been whenever she was with Katie, but it was still hard. You doubted that she'd be into you for a multitude of reasons. She may have stopped calling you 'kid' all the time, but that didn't mean she saw you as much more than that.

…

You were limping as you were subbed off. It was nothing serious, just a little pulled muscle. You could be playing in the next game if you rested properly according to the trainer. You'd come into your spot as a starter on the team quickly, but you didn't mind spending a game on the bench. There had been a lot of improvements all around, and you wanted your teammates to be able to showcase them.

"I got you an ice pack," Ruesha said as she slid into the spot next to you on the bench. Your hamstrings and calves had always done this a little bit. It was a side effect of the physical exertion you put yourself through to stay in top shape. Ruesha had been around you long enough to know what you needed for a speedy recovery.

"When the hell did you start acting so sweet?" Emma yelled before you could thank Ruesha. You watched as she started to get into a little banter with Emma. It was kind of funny, but they were both getting a bit loud, so you took it upon yourself to distract Ruesha.

"Thanks Rue," you mumbled as you cupped Ruesha's cheeks. Immediately, she went completely silent and began ignoring Emma in favor of you. She gave you a smile and little pat to your thigh.

"Anytime you need something, you know where I am," Ruesha told you. You let your hand fall from her face to rest next to hers. Sometime as the teams were going back to the locker room, Ruesha took your hand in hers, claiming that it was for support. You believed her, but many of your teammates didn't.

You could hear them teasing Ruesha as you showered and got dressed. At her request, you waited for Ruesha, who carried your things for you. Ruesha got some content for her vlog while you sat in the back with Georgia, one of the only teammates at your new team who you had confided about your feelings for Ruesha in.

"You know, she's very obviously just as down bad for you as you are her," Georgia pointed out.

"No, she's not," you argued. Georgia scoffed as she rolled her eyes at you. "Also, shut up. You're not quiet enough for us to be having this conversation on the bus."

"Don't worry, you're not subtle, neither of you. Ruesha would have carried you onto the bus if you asked her to, but instead she carried your bag for you. And don't you dare say that it's because you're hurt because she is always the first one to you when you need or want something. Everybody definitely thinks that you're together already."

"Pssh, Ruesha doesn't want me. Nobody wants me, that's why I'm here. I wasn't good enough for Arsenal. I wasn't good enough for A-,"

"Nope, we aren't doing this again!" Georgia cut you off. She stood up and much to your horror, called out for Ruesha, "Rue, get off your camera and come here!"

"Why are you being so bossy?" Ruesha asked as she made her way to where Georgia was sitting. "I told you already, if you're so set on finding a man, they don't like that."

"Shut up, sit down, and tell (Y/n) how you feel because I'm not listening to her dense ass cry about how nobody wants her and she's not good enough," Georgia said. She went up to steal Ruesha's old seat and give the two of you a bit of privacy.

"What's she on about?" Ruesha asked you. It was the first time in a while that you had seen her be so serious. "Why do you think that nobody wants you?"

"Because nobody does, I'm not good enough. I don't get why you're always so nice to me, I'm a failure." You looked close to tears. The game had gone well, so you should have been happy, but it was hard when all you could think about was being thrown down the ladder.

"God, she's right," Ruesha sighed. "Alright, I'm going to stop you for one second because I find it so incredibly rude that you think I'm not head over heels in love with your stupid, oblivious ass. Yeah, so maybe a certain girl didn't want you back at Arsenal, but that doesn't mean the world thinks you're some horrid, ugly creature. Also, I have not been subtle. Do you think I'd be so nice to just anybody here? Are you a brick because you are dense as fuck. Georgia's right, I do like you a lot, and maybe I shouldn't have been subtle about it."

"You were not subtle!" Emma and Georgia both yelled from a couple rows ahead. The rest of the bus murmured in agreement, and suddenly, you felt a bit stupid for not realizing it sooner.

"Now, in some cases, this would be cause for a bit of fuckery, but I like you far too much to suggest that, so, when we get back, I'm taking you to dinner. I'll walk you to that stupid, swanky apartment of yours, give you a very sensible kiss, and then we'll meet for breakfast next practice after you tell G how good of a kisser I am," Ruesha said. "That sound alright to you?"

"Yeah, it sounds nice."

#woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #ruesha littlejohn x reader #ruesha littlejohn imagine

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sourpeachsayshi · 2 months ago

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(minors / ageless / blank blogs dni)

tags: choso has a stepcest kink (very light); alludes to choso being high; porn watching; nipple play; fingering; squirting; non con (they are being watched); I finally have the courage to post this draft slkdjf don't shame me

regarding yuji's best friend reader and his big brother choso and this idea I wrote a while back: Hmp catching your best friend’s older brother (choso) watching porn, so he invites you into his room to join him - and while you watch he just sucks on your tits and slowly fingers you until you squirt all over is sheets.

you're face is so hot watching this video, the girl is moaning while she's being eaten out. you're not sure if you should focus on her responses or on choso sucking your nipples like his life depends on it.

"is-is this what turns you on?" you stammer, the blaring fact that the actors are playing step siblings sending a shiver all over your body.

your breath hitches, choso's own staggering as he looks up at you with slightly blood shot eyes. "it's kinda hot, right? that they are doing something that they shouldn't..."

he says this as he slides two fingers underneath your underwear, his other hand pinching your erect nipple. he pushes two fingers between your wet folds, hearing you whine as he carefully starts fucking you.

your mouth is dry, your head falling to the pillow where the side of your cheek is illuminated by blue light blaring from his monitor. you're trying not to read so much into his comment about forbidden hook ups, and you're unsure if your heart is racing because of the thrill or if you're overwhelmed.

he sucks on your tit, releasing it with a pop, his fingers working magic between your legs. "The plot is whatever, a cliche I guess," he admits, "but she's hot, and the way he fucks her..." he groans, snagging you tender nipple between his teeth, "it's kinda how I think about fucking you..."

you're gushing down to his knuckles, your body shuddering at the prospect of getting fucked by this sinful man. you don't say anything else then, but you keep your attention focused on the screen. when it gets to the scene where he does fuck her, you only imagine how it would feel with choso instead.

the actors are splayed out on the living room sofa, the girl getting fucked so hard and rough in the middle of the living room. you can't help but wonder if choso is desperate to claim you this heatedly in the sanctuary of his own home for a reason, and if that reason has anything to do with wanting him to make his mark on his brother's best friend.

his mouth is circled over your left breast, sucking and licking over the bud as his fingers move faster. he's grinding into the mattress, his erection making a mess of his jeans, and you know that's he's getting far to into it when his own moans start getting louder and louder.

you know you're going to cum hard when he starts pressing up against the sweet spot that makes everything in you seize up, and he has to use his other hand to clasp over your mouth so that you don't scream as you squirt all over his t-shirt.

you're so dizzy in the aftermath, but as your eyes fall to choso's bedroom door you realize that it's not completely closed. through the sliver of the gap you spot the color of fiery red, and you instantly shoot up which startles the man before you.

"what's wrong?" choso asks, using this as opportunity to turn off the screen of his monitor.

you shake your head, "I-I thought I saw something..."

choso circles his arms around your waist, and drops his weight on top of you as he lays you both back on the mattress.

"yuji isn't even here, baby," he reminds you.

which is true, except sukuna decided to pay his younger brothers a visit and was startled to find out that you're a lot closer to this family than he even thought.

#choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso smut

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pearlywritings · 9 months ago

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"Bring your kid to work" day

synopsis: but sometimes it's very much unplanned.

pairing and characters: Zhongli x fem!reader, Xiao. Your family name is Rex-Lapis. Childe plays part in it too.

tw: modern AU, University AU, established relationship, fluff

word count: 2.8k+ words

a/n: Also a part of my University modern AU with history professor Zhongli

The day started perfectly. Your older daughter was already at school with your permission to stay at her friend's house for a sleepover later, you had your day off, lounging in the living room with your son cuddling to you with his most favorite dragon shaped toy pressed between your bodies, listening to your husband walking around the bedroom, getting ready for the lectures at the University, being blessed with afternoon classes.

The day was perfect indeed. Until it absolutely isn't.

Sometimes you really want to kill your boss. It must be today that you are called to work to help with an emergency, that no one knows how to deal with except for you. And the fact that your boss does not consider any possibility of you having trouble with doing what's required, makes you fume harder.

"Li, I don't know what to do!" You cry in frustration, buttoning your shirt. "We can't find a babysitter in ten minutes! You have to go to work, I have to now too, we can't just ask Ganyu to cancel her plans, she's been waiting for this sleepover for weeks, and I can't take Xiao with me - by the sound of it I won't have a single moment to look after him."

It's been no longer than five minutes since you received that call, but you are already as stressed as after a week of non-stop work. Why must've the stars aligned this way!?

Your husband - bless his soul - is fully dressed and is holding your little son perched on his arm, supporting his back with a hand, watching your frantic movements with sympathy.

"I don't think I'll have many spare moments either, my love. Only breaks between lessons. Let me think," the man hums, leaning Xiao’s body more onto his shoulder and reaching for his phone with a free hand. The boy wraps arms around his neck, watching you brush your hair with a pout. The plan was to spend the whole day together with mama, watching cartoons, playing, maybe going for a walk or, ideally, taking a nap, finishing it all with making dinner and welcoming papa home. Now, it seems to him, all these plans are thrown out of the window.

However, Xiao was always a very perceptive and patient kid - he sensed somehow when the situation couldn’t be helped and him throwing a fit - not like he would - would only cause more trouble. That is why he is quietly waiting for what comes next.

And finally Zhongli finds a solution.

“I’m calling Ajax. He mostly spends time at the teacher’s lounge. As far as I know he really loves kids and has several younger siblings, he should be able to handle our son. And during breaks I’ll be taking over” “Oh,” as good as it all sounds, there is an instant hesitation in your mind. “‘Li, you sure you can ask him that? It’s a big deal after all…” “I know, dear, I know. That’s why I am calling him now in advance to make sure it’s alright,” your husband dials the number of his department’s secretary and puts the phone to the ear. “I don’t even mind paying him if he agrees.”

In reality you had nothing to worry about. The gingerhead was more than willing to watch your five-year old son. Maybe willing isn’t the right word even - the young man is excited.

Zhongli is lucky to arrive before the current class ends - the less attention is drawn, the better. He collected everything he could think of to occupy Xiao during his time at the lounge in a bag, which he passes to Ajax the moment his son and him are introduced. However while the secretary is wearing a wide and kind smile, the boy is glaring up at him from under the brown bangs, boring his strikingly golden eyes in the tall figure.

“Dad, I don’t like him,” the little boy pouts, hugging his plushie even tighter and throwing daggers at the gingerhead from behind the dragon’s mane.

“Ouch, little guy,” with a dramatic gasp, the young man clutches the shirt on his chest and presses the back of his hand to the forehead. “How will I live? Hated by Mr Rex-Lapis’ son…”

“Now, now, Xiao,” Zhongli gently pats his head, bending down to look into his eyes and finding displeasure there. “It’s only for today, baby. Me and mom are really sorry for not spending time with you today. I promise that soon I’ll be home for two whole weeks.”

To that the boy’s eyes widen.

“Two weeks… That’s fourteen days?”

“That’s right, sweety.”

“That’s a lot!” He jumps, elated by the news, no trace of dissatisfaction written over his cute smiling face.

“Haha, it is, dear.”

“Wow, Mr Rex-Lapis, your son is really smart!” The secretary stopped playing hurt, instead clapping his hands together in praise and nodding his head in approval. “How old is he?”

“He is five. Yes, he learns really fast.”

“No wonder, he has you and your wife as parents.”

The remaining 20 minutes before his first lecture Zhongli spends in attempts to make his son comfortable not only around Ajax, but also at the new place as well. All that time Xiao doesn’t let go of his ever-present companion - a toy dragon, which he is hugging close to his chest. He politely greets every professor that comes to the lounge, which makes the secretary’s jaw drop since he is the only one who’s been initially rejected and, Zhongli can swear, he saw his boy smirking in the toy’s fluffy mane.

Other professors can’t help but mention how much the son resembles the father, even making small talk with the boy, whom they’ve only heard about before or seen in the framed picture of your family on Zhongli’s desk. By how polite (sorry, Ajax) and shyly sweet he is Xiao quickly becomes everyone’s favorite, pockets currently full with all kinds of treats.

When it’s time to go, the man kisses Xiao’s forehead goodbye, promising to be back in an hour and a half for a break, and grabs the materials. Once he leaves alongside his colleagues, Xiao sighs and, ignoring his temporary caretaker, moves to the bag his dad left, starting to dig out all the candies to put them into its side pocket.

“Whatcha doin’, little guy?” The young man is at his side in two long strides, curiously watching the boy’s actions. Xiao gives him a side eye, before deeming the question plausible and turning back to his task.

“I don’t want them right now. I’ll bring them home and share with mom and dad.”

“I am sure they’ll like that,” Ajax hums, busying himself with the contents of the main section. “Oh, would you look at that! It seems that your dad packed some coloring books, toys and… oh, puzzles! You like puzzles?”

The boy quietly nods. Tiptoeing, he tries to see the two boxes his temporary caretaker is holding, and the young man immediately crouches down to let him look.

“This one is new,” Xiao finally points to the box in his left hand. Ocean blue eyes skim over the picture of a phoenix, drawn in a simple yet elegant style. Yes, that definitely looks like something Mr Rex-Lapis would’ve bought for his child’s entertainment.

“Alright, let's get you behind your dad's desk,” golden eyes sparkle and a glimpse of wonder appears on the boy’s face. Dad showed him his own space at the lounge; it's tidy and organized, with all the necessities sorted inside the drawers and some notes and pictures pinned to the corkboard on the wall to the left. He wants to see them closer!

His caretaker drags the chair back, but climbing on it Xiao performs himself. As Ajax is humming something while tearing off the tape on the puzzle box, the boy turns to look at the photos Mr Rex-Lapis has on display. It’s so funny, really - not so long ago this little fella’s father was an image of reserve to students, no one knew who his wife was or the fact he had two kids. The secretary remembers how just half a year ago he used to be among those only ones who knew of the professor’s secret (which, in reality, wasn’t a secret at all). Why hasn't he ever spilled any info to the students who adore him?

Well, what fun would’ve been in it?

“Is that your big sister?” Xiao quickly glances up, taking notice of how the tall (but not as tall as dad) man hovers over where he is sitting and points at one of the pictures. The boy looks at it again.

“...yes. It’s Ganyu.”

“I have a sister too,” the fond expression on that freckle-covered face and a seemingly lightened color of those ocean-blue eyes disarms the five-year old a little. He blinks, waiting for what more he can tell. “Not one actually. Oh, and I have brothers too. One is your age, by the way!”

“Doesn’t it get too… loud?” Small hands reach for the carton box, lifting the lid.

“It does, in a good way though. But when our two huskies join in on the fun… Let’s just say it’s a good thing we have our own house.”

“You have dogs? That’s so cool! I want to have a pet too,” Xiao unceremoniously empties the contents onto the table, yet carefully places the lid with the picture against the monitor of the computer. “Mom promised that when I get older, they’ll buy me a bird.”

“Oh? You love those?”

“Mhm… Maybe we’ll buy something as pretty as…” he pauses, looking at the fiery bird. Ajax quickly realizes the struggle.

“A fo-nuhks,” Xiao prompts.

“Yeah… A fee-niks.”

As the minutes tick by, the boy’s initial hostility seems to evaporate. He still doesn’t talk unnecessarily much, but he does talk to Ajax, so that's progress. He is quite quick to finish the puzzles, and his temporary caretaker makes sure to praise the child. They talk a bit more about their respective families, Xiao even introduces him to his dragon companion. And the gingerhead picks the small fox-shaped keychain his elder sister knitted for him to play toy pals.

For another half an hour it manages to entertain the boy, but as the end of the class is nearing, he grows more and more distracted, glancing either at the door or the clock hanging high on the wall. It’s not hard to guess he is missing his father and is anticipating his return, but both Zhongli and Ajax can do nothing to just speed the time.

What professor can do though, is excusing his class ten minutes earlier, quite happy they got to get through all the material he prepared for this lecture. Bidding the students goodbye, he locks the door of the auditorium with his suitcase inside and puts the key in the pocket of his fancy vest to come back in twenty minutes.

When Zhongli enters the teacher’s lounge, he finds the secretary showing his son something on his own laptop. However, once Xiao’s eyes spot his dad’s figure in the doorframe, the little guy is down from his chair and running all the way to the man.

“Dad!” Mr Rex-Lapis barely has time to close the door and scoot down to catch his son, who nearly bumps into his legs, threatening the man’s balance. Finally in his arms, with his own tiny ones tightly wrapped around strong neck, the carbon copy of Zhongli happily smiles and Ajax has to rub his eyes to make sure he is not hallucinating. Wow, this boy can smile like that (sorry, my guy, you are just not his favorite, though now tolerable at least).

“Hello, Xiao,” Zhongli plants an affectionate kiss on his son’s cheek. “I see you’ve missed me,” the words are answered with eager nods. “Did you have fun with Ajax?” At least some of it.

The gingerhead lifts his eyebrow when the boy looks back at him, holds the gaze of ocean blue eyes for a moment, and then turns to his father once more.

“I suppose.”

The older man has to clear his throat with a polite cough so as not to break into a smile at the image of the assistant's slack jaw.

“That’s good, my dear.”

“Are we coming home now?” His son wonders, fingers playing with the longer locks of dark brown. Unfortunately, the answer is a dejected sigh.

“I am afraid we are not yet, sweety. But mommy texted me recently that she’ll be able to come get you after my second lecture. And then I’ll have one more.”

At the promise of you soon arriving to take him home, Xiao’s just building pout quickly disappeared. It’s okay, he can wait for a little bit longer. And that fox-like man isn’t bad, his company is quite nice. He even showed him some pictures of his family - almost all of them are ginger. Oh, and he promised to download some simple games onto his dad’s computer so he could play. And he still has his coloring books back there and he believes he saw you packing a small book - there is plenty to entertain him with.

Only for all these thoughts and motivation to be shuttered when someone knocked on the door and a second later some student’s head pushed through the gap. None of the three people currently present in the room could’ve anticipated what a black hole is about to be opened.

“Good afternoon, is Mr Rex-La- Oh, professor, you are here! We were wondering if we could take the key to leave our bags inside? As always? Oh, hey kiddo- Wait, a kid???”

“Dad, who is it?”

“DAD!?”

Before anyone could do anything, loud gasps break their way into the lounge. It appeared that almost the whole group was standing in the hall and heard everything crystally clear. Of course students are curious. Of course, they know about professor Rex-Lapis’ kid - the news and that cute picture from an online lecture were still the talk of the whole faculty just a couple of months ago. Of course, they want to see those sweet cheeks for crying out loud!

Ajax is the one who has to get everyone who does not belong in the room out and calm them all down as more than a dozen youngsters beg and plead with Zhongli to bring his baby boy to the lecture. And the said baby boy doesn’t help the situation either, looking at his father with those striking eyes, silently asking to stay with him. “I’m gonna sit very-very quiet,” he even promises.

Is it really a surprise that Xiao ends up sitting at his dad’s desk with his coloring books while the man is reading a lecture? (Students almost crumbled when their tall, handsome, enigmatic history professor walked into the auditorium with his son’s tiny hand clasped in his? Look, he even had to bend his body a little to do so!)

And, as much as students want to gush all over their favorite professor’s small-sized carbon copy, they keep their best behavior, because the situation gives the “once in a century” vibes and they’d be damned to destroy the magic of the moment.

Well, maybe a little, because the smallest interactions between Zhongli and his son as the man lets his students finish writing down information from the current slide are mind-blowing. Groupchat-blowing too.

Even cuter the whole occurrence becomes when the boy stops drawing and lifts his head, curious of what his dad is speaking about. He turns slightly in order to see the presentation, golden eyes skimming over the pictures and words, though he does not understand most of it. But it’s alright though - he can listen to his father instead.

Zhongli is pleasantly surprised when no one can answer one of his revision questions and Xiao lifts his hand, giving him the answer he wanted (he misspells the word a little, sure, but he knew the right response nonetheless). Aaaand that’s probably when the students finally lose it.

By the time the lesson is over and Zhongli meets with you in the teacher’s lounge to pass your very happy and very proud son to you so you two could be on your merry way home, the man feels a little drained. Nothing that can’t be fixed by your tender cheek kiss and soft rubbing on his back, but he still exhales heavily and swears that when he comes home, you are in for a new story.

And by what Ajax had time to tell while you’ve been waiting, you're sure it’s going to be a hilarious one.

taglist: @meimeimeirin Cause I remember how you once said you'd love to see more of this AU

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x fem!reader #zhongli #xiao #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact modern au

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copperbadge · 11 months ago

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youtube

Feeling a little overly perceived by Dr. Dodson right now, not gonna lie.

I'll throw a transcript under the cut, but both reading the transcript and listening to the video can be difficult as it's quite long, so here's some highlights. As always, these are the opinions of a specialist but only one specialist, so take with a grain of salt, and if you have research to add to this, please feel free to comment or reblog with it. I believe this presentation is from sometime in 2022.

ADHD appears to derive from issues in the corpus striatum in the brain. In most people, the corpus striatum filters out all but the most important input AND output; with ADHD, the things normally handled "outside of awareness" must be handled consciously.

People with ADHD don't see their emotions coming. Emotion is immediate, intense, and unfiltered, making therapies like CBT or ACT difficult, because you can learn the technique but you won't have time to employ it. Because people with ADHD have impulse control issues, expressing emotions "inappropriately" is common, leading people with ADHD to believe they can't trust themselves.

One function of ADHD-typical dysregulation is Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, which nobody understands even a little. People who have it can't even adequately describe it to people who want to study it. It is intense, painful, and apparently impossible to control. Prevention is based in maladaptive behaviors designed to avoid it entirely (perfectionism, people pleasing, generalized withdrawal). The only currently known treatment is alpha agonist medication.

Lastly, by the age of twelve, a child with ADHD has likely received twenty thousand more "negative or corrective" messages than their neurotypical peers. (This isn't relevant to the rest, I just found it sufficiently horrifying to warrant inclusion. Fortunately for me, if I got 20,000 negative or corrective messages, I wasn't paying attention for most of them.)

Anyway, here's the transcript of the first half. I did this by copying and cleaning up the auto-transcript on YouTube, but I stopped at Question Time, so this is only the first half (the presentation). Transcription of the second half is available at YouTube.

There is suddenly a very large interest in the whole subject of emotional dysregulation and ADHD. That has been driven oddly enough by the Food and Drug Administration, which has just opened up several pathways that drug companies can study emotional dysregulation and whether or not their medications can get an FDA indication for emotional dysregulation. So it's sort of follow the money. Up until then, there was not a great deal of interest for ADHD emotional dysregulation.

We have to understand that the ADHD diagnostic criteria were not made for people like you and me, either practitioners or people who have ADHD or their families. They were designed for and made by people who do research and pretty much that's it. People who do research have to have criteria that they can physically see and count. "Little Johnny was up and out of his chair three times in the last hour," and you can write a three on your clipboard. Things which are invisible, not always there, hard to count, or even hidden by the patient, don't lend themselves to research very easily and so tend to be ignored. And so consequently this is one of the main reasons why emotional dysregulation -- until there was some other motive provided -- was pretty much ignored and disregarded.

Consequently ADHD right now, if you look at the 18 diagnostic criteria, are almost entirely behavioral criteria. What is the person doing? Not how is the person thinking, what is the patient feeling, how are they controlling their emotions, how are they sleeping. Things that are all very, very important to the person who has ADHD but which is essentially ignored by the diagnostic criteria.

Why should you care? Who really cares about this? Well, the definition of what ADHD is and isn't defines who and what will be studied. It defines who will actually get into a study and what questions will be asked. It defines who will be diagnosed with ADHD and who will not. One of the most common problems I get is with a secondary referral to me -- somebody clearly has ADHD but they're not pinging off the walls, they can sit and do their work, especially when they get into a hyperfocus, and so they're told they couldn't possibly have ADHD. When really they just have the inattentive subtype and they're not being driven by their behavior, their overt behavior. Therefore it defines who will get treatment, who will get insurance coverage for that treatment, and who will get accommodations in school when they're young and at the workplace when they're older.

Consequently we should also care because the other major components of ADHD get ignored. These are the ones that if you really stand back and look at it cause the greatest amount of impairment, the greatest amount of embarrassment, the greatest amount of just…problems in general. We're talking about cognition and thinking, that people with ADHD fundamentally think in a different way than do neurotypical people. They are able to engage with the tasks of their lives in a totally different way. Their ability to control their emotions and their behavior, control their emotional responses, tremendously affects their self-esteem and their self-definition. Who am I? What am I worth? What am I valued? Why am I valued in a certain way? What do other people think of me?

It affects tremendously the nature and healthiness of relationships. How you respond emotionally to the people in your realm makes a great deal of difference about the healthiness and gratification you get from your relationships. Being highly dysregulated in terms of your energy and emotions also affects deeply how well you sleep, how easy it is to fall asleep and awake refreshed, and of course it affects emotional dysregulation.

And this is probably, when you look at it in the long term and especially with adults, probably the most impairing part of the ADHD syndrome. The vast majority of people with ADHD have found ways around their academic and work performance, but they haven't found their way around their emotional reactions to the people and events of their lives.

At all points in the life cycle -- child, adolescent, adult, and elderly -- people who have ADHD nervous systems lead intense, passionate lives. Their highs are higher, their lows are lower, all of their emotions are much more intense. And that really is what we're talking about: not really the quality of the emotions -- people who have ADHD have the same types of emotions for the same reasons that everybody else does. What we're talking here, in terms of dysregulation, is two things: one, the expression of emotions, being able to choose whether or not you let an emotion out. And then, when you do decide to express it, how intensely that emotion is experienced and expressed by you as a unique individual.

Consequently just about everybody with ADHD, but especially little children, are always at some sort of risk of being overwhelmed by their own emotions from within themselves. This is something that needs to be really emphasized: a lot of people with ADHD grow up not being able to trust themselves.

So why is this happening, especially to people with ADHD? I think that just about everybody now would agree that ADHD is primarily a problem of insufficient inhibition, being able to slow down and keep things from happening. If you look at the mass of the human brain, 85% of all the nerves in your brain and out in your nervous system are inhibitory in function. We happen to be aware of the other 15% because we can see what happens when those nerves are used: they create movement, they create emotions, they create our experience and memory. We have to remember they are a minority of the actual mass of the human brain.

Most of what happens inside the brain occurs outside of awareness. What happens is the brain starts something, it gets it moving, and then uses inhibition to guide that toward the destination it wants. It's like shooting off a rocket -- shooting it off is the easy part, guiding it to where you want it to go is the hard part.

When you look at where stimulant class medications work, they work solely in the deep areas of the brain down in the basal ganglia, and especially in an area called the corpus striatum, which is just Latin for a "striped body". That's how it looks when you look at it -- it's got many very fine stripes in it. This area, the corpus striatum, is almost entirely inhibitory in function. What it does is that it inhibits neurological input and output to just the one piece of information or one action that happens to be most important at that time. Everything else gets handled, but it gets handled out of awareness.

Probably the easiest place to see this in action is when we're driving a car. Driving a car is the most difficult thing that the average human being ever has to learn how to do. It's a very difficult process, if anybody has ever had an adolescent learning to drive. But once we learn how to drive a car we do it largely outside of our own conscious awareness. We can drive along, talk to the person on the seat next to us, think about what we're going to have for dinner, sing along to the radio, and not really pay attention, conscious attention, to what's going on around us. But if suddenly something is out in front of the car, even before our conscious brain can process what that thing is, our corpus striatum has already handled it. Slam on the brakes, swerve to miss it, start to question that person's parentage, in the twinkling of an eye. The corpus striatum has been scanning everything, handling everything.

So basically what ADHD is, is that relative lack of inhibition that should be there. Inattention, which is a cardinal feature of ADHD, is the relative lack of the inhibition of other inputs or distractions. When we look at physiologically what's happening, we don't actually pay attention to one thing. Neurologically, we suppress every other thing we might engage with except the one thing that we want. It is maximally inefficient in that way.

Impulsivity is a relative lack of inhibition, of the expression of actions and emotions before you can think about them and make decisions about that expression. Hyperactivity is the relative lack of inhibition of physical and mental activity. When the physical activity of the hyperactive little boy who's pinging off a wall goes away in adolescence, they're still very much mentally active in their own brains.

So what? The “so what” for most of us is that when this area of the brain is not working as it should, people cannot regulate the experience and expression of their emotions. Emotions are experienced as completely unmodified and unscreened. The word that most people use is that they are raw. They come out without any modification at all, they go in without any modification at all. People can see this in hyperacusis, where somebody chewing or the conversation across the restaurant comes in loud and clear because it can't be screened out.

All this is tremendously overwhelming. We get overwhelmed by entirely too much input, and the impulse to have entirely too much output. It's exhausting, and when it does get inappropriately expressed it's embarrassing, so consequently people with ADHD must always be vigilant of themselves.

Now, when we look at the traditional therapies that have been used, or tried to be used, with ADHD, they have had very very poor track records. They're largely ineffective in helping people control the expression of what they think and feel. The reason for this is that people with ADHD don't see their own emotions, their own actions, coming. They find out about their emotions and actions the same way everybody else does: it's already out there before they even know that it's coming. Consequently they don't have the time and the warning to use the techniques and new skills that they may have learned in behavior modification therapy, or in cognitive therapy. They learned them, learned them perfectly well, but the cat’s out of the bag before they can make use of them.

Right now, as we sit here today, medications are the only thing we have to offer that have a proven track record, because they're there all the time. We have two basic groups: we have the stimulant class medications which are amphetamine, methylphenidate, et cetera, which help directly with inhibition. They help slow things down, they help inhibit both input that would distract us and output. It gives you the same two seconds that everybody else has, to see an emotion or an action coming up, to play it out in your mind. “If this happens then this will happen, then that'll happen. Oh, I don't want that to happen, I'll redirect it.”

The alpha agonist, of which we have two -- guanfacine and clonidine -- inhibit the energy driving the speed and intensity of response. Interesting enough, when we look at just clean effectiveness, when we measure how effective is this treatment, the alpha agonists are significantly more effective than are the stimulants. Usually that's kind of a false choice, because most people end up taking both classes of medication.

A very special type, I think, of emotional dysregulation is -- again a terrible technical term -- what's called Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. We actually don't know what it is. It's much too early to tell. But it does seem to be a thing with which many people with ADHD identify. There was a brief article from ADDitude that got posted on Reddit, on their subreddit on ADHD; that particular posting got twice as many responses, in less than a month, than any other posting that had ever been put on that subreddit. It really touched a lot of people in a strong way.

In my own checklist, when I'm asking about Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, the question I have is: “For your entire life, in other words going all the way back into childhood, have you always been much more sensitive than other people you know to rejection, teasing, criticism, or your own perception that you’ve failed or fallen short?” This is directly from a psychiatric textbook, an old one, and it's the definition of a technical term, for psychiatrists called Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria.

It's important to note, this is all a matter of degree. No one likes being rejected or criticized. Everybody hates it when we fail, we fall short, especially in front of other people. Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria is much more intense, and is much more than this universal discomfort.

When they were originally doing the research on this particular idea, 45 years ago, they wanted to get that intensity right up there in the name, and so they chose the word dysphoria -- which unfortunately happens to be Greek -- but it means “unbearable”. Because that was the description they were getting from people over and over and over again. Again, for reasons unknown, people with rejection sensitivity have trouble describing what the intense emotion is all about. They can describe its intensity -- “it's awful, it's terrible, it's catastrophic,” -- but not the quality of the mood. And so, over and over again, these research subjects would finally just tell the researcher, “Look, man, back off. I can't find words to tell you what this awful feeling feels like, but I want you to know I can hardly stand it.” And so that's where the word dysphoria came from. A researcher at Harvard who decided to put it into Greek, but that unbearable quality is very much a part of what's going on, a part of the experience of Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria.

It's extremely common in people with ADHD; my guess is that about 95% of my patients report it as a significant impairment, and about a third of my patients say that it is by far the most impairing part of their ADHD. For the majority of people, and most occurrences, it is not that particularly disruptive, but when it hits, it turns your life upside down.

So how is rejection sensitivity experienced? There's no warning. It hits out of the blue; there's no way to protect yourself from it. It happens all at once, it goes from zero to a hundred percent instantaneously. It is commonly experienced as being physically painful, as if someone just punched you in the chest or punched you in the stomach -- there's an aching in the core of your being.

Once it gets started it seems to be largely uncontrollable until it's run its course, whatever it is. The quality of the mood is indescribable. Most people struggle to find any words at all to describe this feeling, even though it's massively intense. The duration can be a few minutes to several months. It's a very potent experience and can make it very difficult to risk ever being rejected or criticized again.

If this very intense emotional reaction is internalized, it looks for all the world like an instantaneous major depression, complete with suicidal thinking. And so a lot of times people do get a diagnosis of major depression, because the clinician they're working with fails to pick up the triggered, instantaneous nature of the onset of that depressive-looking syndrome. If it's externalized, it presents as a rage that is directed at the person or situation that wounded them so terribly. In fact, being “wounded” is is a very common description. This sort of sudden trigger change, with an intense emotional response, not uncommonly leads to a misdiagnosis of borderline character organization.

So if you can't see it coming, and you can't do anything once it's happened, how do people try and protect themselves from episodes of rejection sensitivity happening in the first place? Some people use perfectionism; they try to be above reproach. They feel driven to be the very best at everything they do. These are the penultimate overachievers. It works, but it's also an absolutely terrible, driven way in which to live.

By far the most common response is that people become people pleasers. They are constantly scanning everybody around them and trying to figure out what that person wants or would approve of, and that's what they give them, so much so that it is the to the exclusion of what they want for their own lives. These are people who take care of others, please others, to the exclusion of any sort of gratification in their own lives.

Another very common way that people try to deal with this is that they give up trying anything new, giving up anything in which they might fail or be embarrassed. I have hundreds of patients who have never been able to apply for a job or ask someone of the opposite sex out for a date. Just the imagination of being told no is so frightening, so devastating, that they just say, “No, I'm not going there. I'll sit this one out.”

One of the most effective ways of dealing with this are the alpha agonist medications, and when they work they can be almost completely effective. Alpha agonist again is a tongue twisting name, but it's not as tongue-twisting as the full name, which is alpha-2 selective adrenergic agonists. So you can see why we shorten it a bit. They were originally blood pressure medications that came on the market in the early 1980s. They worked very poorly -- when they did work, at most they lowered blood pressure about 10%, which was measurable but it still required other things that needed to be done in order to get most people's blood pressure down into a therapeutic range.

We have two of them, guanfacine which was marketed both as immediate release and extended release under the name of Intuniv, and clonidine, which was marketed under the trade name of Kapvay, both as an immediate release product and as a delayed release product. They have been used as a treatment of the hyperactive component of ADHD for more than 30 years, so these are not new medications for the field of ADHD. They're very much the treatment of choice for the “hyperactive, disruptive, and obnoxious little boy” that is what most people have in their minds when they consider the notion of “What does a person with ADHD look like?”

The exact mechanism of action of these medications both in ADHD and especially in rejection sensitivity is highly unclear. We really don't know -- we have a couple of ideas but they are very definitely theoretical. The only thing that we know for sure is that the stimulants don't work by stimulating anything, and that the alpha agonists don't work by being alpha agonists. How they do work is completely unknown.

We have two medications, they seem to work equally well, so there's nothing that would lead you to choose one over the other. The problem is that the robust response that we're looking for that really changes people's lives, is disappointingly low -- at about 30% to either molecule. Luckily that 30% is a different 30% of people, so that 30% of people get a good response to guanfacine but it's largely a different 30% that get a response to clonidine. So if the first medication tried does not work, it makes good clinical sense that that one should be stopped and the other one tried. There was an unfortunately worded sentence in an article I wrote for ADDitude several years ago that gave the impression that you could use the two medications together; they should not be used together. You try one, if that doesn't work you try the other.

The typical dose of either one is in the range of three milligrams of guanfacine per day or about three tenths of a milligram of clonidine per day. If you take all the people who get a good robust response to either one of these medications, about 80% are going to end up at these doses, so it's by far the most common dose.

There are of course side effects. Anything that's going to adjust the adrenaline system of the body is going to have the potential for sedation as a side effect, and this does occur for about 25% of people. It's usually mild and it does go away -- over a period of several months. So a person has to be fairly patient with that. It can cause dry mouth, and it's by a different mechanism then the stimulants can cause dry mouth, so the two of them together can really make your mouth cottony dry. And the third one is an accentuation of a universal experience we've all had, when we stand up quickly and suddenly and we get dizzy, get kind of a head rush, vision goes a bit gray. The technical term for it is orthostasis. And this can happen more frequently when you take the alpha agonist medications.

The benefits of the alpha agonist medications take a while to develop. When you change the dose it takes five days for the benefits to develop, so once again they're not like the stimulants where what you see is what you get at one hour. It takes a while for these medications to work and to see all that they can do.

Now just as a side note, Strattera has been looked at in two studies for emotional dysregulation and the results have been what they call mixed. If they did work it was only to a very minimal degree, almost undetectable, so Strattera does not seem to be a medication one could use and expect to have it help with emotional dysregulation.

So in summary, emotional dysregulation is a basic feature of ADHD, is almost universal in ADHD, and it should be considered as a core symptom of ADHD that ought to be evaluated in every initial evaluation. Rejection sensitivity…it's unclear yet -- this is an old concept that has only been brought up in the last couple of years. Its exact nature is still unclear. It does seem to be a specific form of emotional dysregulation, especially in regard that it does respond very well to medication. But again, how it fits into emotional dysregulation is completely unclear at this point. It does seem to be something that's really important, though. It is a thing that resonates with a large number of people with ADHD.

#adhd #sam has adhd #rejection sensitive dysphoria #RSD #emotional dysregulation #Youtube

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souliebird · 10 months ago

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[[and then I met you || ch. 13]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

Words: 5.7k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

The base of your skull pounds as you try to keep focus on the things going on around you. It is almost impossible, as you just want to close your eyes and block out everything.

You had woken up with a stiffness in your neck and shoulders that had quickly spiraled into the beginnings of a migraine. You hadn't had one since you were pregnant and now that you had a toddler, spending the day in bed and hiding under covers was not an option.

The gods seem to have smiled down on you, though. It is Saturday, which means it is Daddy Daughter Date Day and Matt is more than happy to keep Minnie’s attention on him. You don't have to watch her like a hawk. You can just sit and wait until your ibuprofen kicks in.

If it ever does.

You know drinking water will probably help, so you shakily reach for your glass.

Beside you, your daughter is none the wiser to your distress. Last night, a new toy arrived in the mail, and she was insistent it must be brought to lunch so she could show her Daddy and play with him. It is a friendship bracelet making kit - the type that has beads of all different shapes and colors - and it is a hit. Minnie and Matt have been making each other bracelets as you wait for your food.

“Can you please find me another ‘O’?” the nearly perfect man across from you asks your sweet toddler. “Like in ‘Octopus’.”

“‘O’ for octopus!” Mouse quickly confirms. She sets down her string of multi-color shapes and pulls the little box of beads closer to her. She picks up the discs that have letters on them, proudly showing off her ability to identify them by stating what each letter is until she finds the one, she's looking for. Once it is found, it is carefully passed across the table. “‘O’ for octopus!”

You have not been paying attention to the letters Matt has been collecting and thus have no clue what he intends to spell, but you're guessing it won't matter much to your daughter. She's going to be thrilled either way. You have a hunch that the feeling is mutual with Matt - whatever Minnie gives him, he'll proudly wear. Right now, the bracelet in her hands is a mixture of pink hearts with purple and yellow plain beads. There isn't a method to the madness beyond that.

Your table falls back into silence. Mouse is enthralled with her task of threading and Matt is equally quiet. You think he is aware of your headache, as he's been soft spoken since you met up and hasn't been trying to make your little one laugh and squeal with glee. You're incredibly thankful for that.

You resist the urge to close your eyes and instead find a scratch on the table's surface to stare blankly at and wait for time to pass. Hands pass through your field of vision to collect different beads and you hear farther-daughter talking, but you don't process any of it. All you know is the pain creeping around your skull. You are aware of how your eyes sit in your head and it is a very weird, unsettling feeling that helps nothing.

You pray this outing has enough stimulation for Minnie, so that when you go home, she'll go down for a nap easily and you can join her.

You don't know how long you sit there, spacing out while the world moves on without you, but eventually Linda drops your plates in front of you. You fall into autopilot, saying, “Thank you, Miss Linda” in chorus with Matt and Minnie. After a quick cooing over how sweet your little family is, the waitress leaves you be, and you turn your focus to your daughter's plate.

It's chicken strips and french fries today and you know she needs her ketchup and mustard. Before you can start to reach for the bottles at the end of the table, Matt is already taking them and addressing Mouse, “You like it with more mustard than ketchup, right?”

“More mustard!” She happily replies as she lays her napkin across her lap.

You watch with slightly parted lips as he starts squeezing the condiments onto her plate. You aren't used to anyone taking over this responsibility and you don't know how to react - it is nice to have the help and to see he's learned so much about Minnie's habits, but your mind can't help but chastise you for letting him do this menial task. You know he's her father, but it feels like something you should be doing.

Of course, you are the only one having conflicting feelings. They are having a good time - Matt makes two piles of sauces and Minnie instantly starts swirling them together with her food, a big grin on her face. You try to offer a smile back, but you don't know how sincere it is. Your head hurts so much, and your anxiety is spiking.

You are shaken from your daze when Matt says your name. You look up to see his head tilted just slightly, the slightest frown on his face. Guilt courses through you.

“You sure you don't want any coffee? The caffeine should help with,” he motions to his head, and it just confirms for you that he is always hyper aware of everything, and that Minnie must be too.

You need to get your act together. You can't just zone out because you don't feel well - you're a parent and you are out in public. You can't just dump all your responsibilities onto Matt because he is here now.

You shake your head, even if it makes you dizzy, “No, I'll be okay.”

The truth is the idea of coffee makes your stomach turn. You don't want anything that tastes too strongly, which is why you have opted for a Cobb salad for lunch.

The man across from you gives you a doubtful look. To keep him from worrying over you, you stab a piece of tomato and eat it. It tastes like nothing and that is fine for you. This earns a frown, but the gods smile on you again and your daughter causes a distraction by starting to play with her food.

Mouse picks up a chicken strip and begins to make it hop around the plate before dunking it into her now orange mixture. “Oh no, you're all messy now,” she says to herself, “I gotta clean you.” She then proceeds to lick the sauce away with exaggerated sounds. Matt makes a face of pure disgust.

“Sweetie, what are you doing?”

“I'm a kitty!” is her proud response before repeating the process.

You know this game well but it's the first time he has experienced it. He knows you allow her to play with her food as long as she's not messy and actually eats it, but you can tell he wants to ask her not to. You are open to him making suggestions and asking Minnie to do things, and he knows that, and you wonder what direction he will take. You can see the wheels turning in his head.

“I thought you were a mouse,” is what he goes with.

That stops Minnie dead in her tracks. She considers this statement, a pout forming, before bringing her chicken strip to her mouth and beginning to nibble at it - like a mouse with a piece of cheese.

The rest of the meal is subdued. You manage to eat a third of your salad through sheer force of will - having an empty stomach will only make things worse - and Mouse only needs her face wiped a handful of times. It feels like the minutes crawl by before Linda is back at your table to take away plates and hand over the check.

Packing up is quick and easy. There are no loose beads on the table, so you just need to snap the case shut and store it into your bag, along with anything else that was brought out for Minnie’s needs. As you do this, Matt finishes off both bracelets by tying the ends together and once he is done, you stop what you're doing to watch the exchange.

He returns the bracelet Minnie made for him to her and she hugs it to her chest.

“Daddy, yous gotta put out your hand. I have something for you,” she says like it is any sort of surprise.

But of course, Matt plays along. He does as he is told, holding out the hand not holding the bracelet he made, “You got something for me?”

Very delicately, like it's going to break, Mouse places the bracelet into his palm. Only when she is fully sitting in her seat again does he begin to run his thumb over the beads, feeling what she made for him. His lips twitch up into a smile before he starts to bite his lip. You've learned this means he's trying to not get overly emotional, and you completely understand.

Having Minnie’s love is the only thing keeping you going some days and you've cried multiple times when she's given you something she's made for you.

“I love it,” he whispers, his voice breaking a tiny bit. “Thank you so much, sweetheart.”

You and Minnie watch as he slips the bracelet on, and it settles next to his watch. The bright colors stand out against his muted palette, but you doubt he cares about that. Your daughter absolutely beams when he holds up his wrist to show off his new piece of jewelry.

“You're welcome, Daddy! Do you have a present for me?” Mouse asks, jutting her hands out, palms up.

You can't help but huff in amusement, even if your headache is making you feel cold and detached. You know she isn't being greedy or rude, she's simply an eager toddler. You can't fault her for that.

Oh, so carefully, Matt sets the bracelet into her waiting hands and once you finally realize what he wrote out on it, your heart clenches at the sweetness. The bracelet is mostly made up of lettered beads, with the words separated by different colored hearts. Minnie quickly brings it right up to her face to inspect it and instantly starts trying to figure out the mystery in front of her.

“D-A-D-D-Y,” she spells out loud, “L-O-V-E-S. Y.O.U.” Her little brow wrinkles up at the words and you wait to see if she needs help figuring them out. They aren't unknown to her, but it's usually a flip of a coin if she can connect the dots. The only word you are confident she recognizes is her name.

She spells it again, then tries her best to sound it out, “Duh..Ahh duh duh…why. Duh-ah-du- Daddy! It says Daddy!”

You rub her back, silently trying to communicate how proud of her you are, “That's right, it says Daddy. Do you know the other words?”

While she considers her answer, you look at Matt.

He hasn't shaved in a few days. It emphasizes his good looks, and you can see the hints of red - and grey - in his grown-out scruff. His charming and sweet appearance is only enhanced by his heart - you didn't know someone could be so full of love. He radiates it when he's around Minnie and it's like he can't help but pour all of his affection into her and he can't believe how much of it is returned.

You wonder if you were put on Earth to give him Minnie - and you wouldn't mind if you were. It would give you some sort of purpose.

“Mommy,” your precious angel says, thrusting the bracelet into your face, “you read it.”

You feel your face heat up - and throb - at the way Matt turns to you. Your insides pang and you can't help but feel like you're ruining this moment for him. You clear your throat, and tell Minnie, “It says ‘Daddy loves you.’”

Her eyes go wide, and she gasps like it is breaking news, “Daddy loves me?”

“Daddy loves you,” Matt instantly confirms, “always and forever. And you'll have this to remind you.”

The sentiment stirs so much in you, and you let your headache push it all away and instead of getting emotional, you help Mouse put on her new bracelet. She rips her arm away from you as soon as she can to mimic her Daddy and holds up her wrist to show off her bracelet.

“I love Daddy, too!”

The little anxiety and self-doubt demon stirs in your chest. You love to see them bond, but you can't help but yearn for your daughter to shout she loves you, too, and you want your own bracelet. You know, you know, you are going to be overflowing with bracelets soon enough, but these ones are special. They have meaning and memories and -

And you remind yourself you can't do this in public, especially not around Minnie. You can't ruin their good time - if you haven't already.

Instead, you gently pat her back and ask, “What do you say to Daddy for the gift?”

“Thank you, Daddy!”

“You're very welcome, Mouse.”

Your daughter looks at her new piece of jewelry in amazement, turning her wrist so she can see all angles. With her distracted, you move to finish packing up by going to get the stroller, and by the time you have it popped open and your bag secured in the under pocket, Matt and Minnie are joining you by the doorway. Your little one needs no help buckling herself in and you can tell how happy she is by the way she kicks her feet.

As you get in position to start pushing the stroller, Matt steps to stand beside you so you can guide him as you walk. He waits until you leave the diner to address you.

“We don't need to go to the park,” he says in a soft voice.

You are shaking your head before he even finishes his sentence, “It’s fine, Matt. It's just a headache.” It isn't just a headache - your medicine hasn't kicked in and your head is just pulsing, but you will survive.

He very gently squeezes your elbow, saying your name, “you know I can tell that isn't true. You should be -”

“FROGGY!”

Minnie’s excited scream drowns out whatever he was going to push for.

On the corner ahead of you, waiting at the crosswalk are Foggy and Karen. They look like they are on a shopping trip - both carrying bags from different boutiques. They turn in unison towards you and Foggy breaks into the biggest smile once he spies your little group.

“Well, if it isn't my favorite little buddy! And her charming and beautiful parents. Wait,” he looks to Karen and gasps, eyes getting comically big, “is this the famous Saturday brunch?” He whirls around dramatically and points to Matt, like he is accusing him, “You're going to the park.”

“We're going to the park,” he confirms, his own grin starting to form at the antics and at the same time, Minnie exclaims, “we're gonna watch the duckies!”

“They are going to watch the duckies, Karen. Do you know what that does to my heart?” Foggy asks as he puts his hand on his chest. Karen shakes her head fondly and completely ignores him to address you.

“We've heard so many stories about the ducks. He gloats every Monday.”

Matt actually pouts at the statement, and you are reminded of a chastised puppy, “I don't gloat.”

“You gloat,” his friends say at the same time.

Minnie, of course, picks up quickly on the new word and kicks her feet as she giggles, “Daddy goats!”

A thought barely crosses your mind before the words are leaving your lips, “You should come with us.”

You can practically feel Matt's initial disapproval of the offer - not from selfishness but from you refusing to acknowledge your headache - but with how both Minnie and Foggy light up, you don't think he'll voice it. And you are right - he gives your arm a light squeeze as he agrees without any disdain, “The more the merrier.”

“I don't think this is an offer we can refuse,” Karen says, nudging Foggy with her elbow. “How can we say no to that face?”

You can't see Minnie’s face from behind her stroller, but you can picture her pleading little face. She has all of you wrapped around her little finger and you suspect she might start crying if they say no.

“To the park we go!” Foggy declares, “and with perfect timing because the light just turned green.”

You let yourself tune out as you start to walk again. Foggy is animatedly telling Matt and Minnie about his quest to find his girlfriend the perfect birthday gift. Apparently, her preferred brand of hand lotion has been discontinued and nothing else is good enough. It is sweet to hear him being so concerned about her needs and wants. He's the type of partner you used to dream about - before you realized that would never be in the cards for you - someone who listens to what you say and doesn't treat you like a glorified maid.

You only had two ‘serious’ relationships in your twenties and both had left you feeling worthless and unloved. You spent most of your time commuting to them and taking care of their needs only to be tossed aside when someone worth their time came along.

You were the type to stay at home and do the laundry, raise the children - be out of sight and out of mind. You didn't get taken out on fancy dates. No one tried to woo you.

No one went out of their way to buy you a gift.

In fact, you don't remember the last time you even celebrated your birthday. Some of your coworkers sent you Happy Birthday emails last year - only because the first one is sent out company wide and you are pretty sure it's automated.

You are fine with it, though. It's not like you celebrated such things as a kid, so you have nothing to miss. You are happy Foggy has someone he so clearly adores, and you hope, when Minnie grows up, she'll find someone like him.

Soon enough, you're at the park and making your way to your designated spot. Despite it being a warm and sunny day, things are relatively empty, and you are thankful there are no older children shouting or causing a ruckus. You just want to sit down.

You can hear Minnie unbuckling herself before you roll to a stop and there is a whirl of motion as you park. She's on the grass before you know it, scurrying like her namesake to get the picnic blanket out of its pocket and spread out. As you wait for her to finish setting up and Karen admires what a nice area you’ve picked, you realize Matt not only still has his hand on your bicep, but his thumb has been gently rubbing in a small circle.

Your heart stutters in your chest and you don't know why he's doing such a thing and now that you're aware of it, it's all you can focus on. Your entire body feels like it is on fire - from his touch, from the situation, from your headache - and you fear making a complete idiot of yourself. Foggy and Karen are here, and you don't want to embarrass Matt.

“Mommy, I need my sunnies!” Your perfect little distraction says from the other side of the stroller and it's the excuse you need to pull away from Matt. You kneel and rummage in your bag until you find the pink Barbie glasses and hand them over to your daughter, then take the time to pull yours out as well.

By the time you get them on and lock the stroller, everyone else is on the blanket. You situate yourself beside Minnie and tell yourself you need to pay attention as she enthusiastically begins to point out ducks to Foggy and Karen.

“That's Moose, he's mean!” She describes to her new friends, while grabbing Matt's hand so she can turn him in the right direction. You aren't sure if he really needs it - you haven't sat down and spoken about his needs since the revelation about his and Minnie’s senses. You make note to do that.

You listen to the back and forth about your daughter's favorite duck characters and story lines, trying to desperately be in the moment. The warm sun feels good on your skin, and you yearn to just flop over and close your eyes. The tension and pain seem to only be increasing. This may turn into a full-blown migraine.

As you start to mentally debate taking more ibuprofen, Minnie cuts herself off from describing how Moose is a food thief and whips her head towards the street, eyes going big. It very much reminds you of a dog that has caught the scent of a prey animal.

Foggy snorts with laughter at your daughter's expression, “Oh my God, she's just like Matt. What do you hear, girl? Is Timmy in a well?”

That has you wondering how often Matt gets his attention drawn away by something only he can sense and how many times Foggy has made that joke to him.

You don't get a chance to ask, because Mouse is turning her big begging eyes on you now, “Mommy, it's the ice cream man! Can we get ice cream? Please, please, please, please?” She is practically vibrating with desire, and you are not going to deny her anything.

“You can get a small ice cream,” you tell her, like it's a compromise. “You don't want your tummy to hurt later.”

She lets out a shriek of joy and scrambles up. To everyone's amusement, she starts digging through your bag for your wallet, and once she finds it, runs it back to you, held over her head like it's a prize. She practically crashes into you, the biggest smile on her face, and you do a scoop and turn maneuver to sit her in your lap.

“Would you like any ice cream?” you ask the three friends sitting with you, not wanting anyone to feel excluded.

Foggy pushes himself up into standing before you finish getting the words out of your mouth, “Of course we want ice cream, what kind of question is that? Do I look like I say no to ice cream?”

“Oh, a cone does sound really good,” Karen muses beside you.

“Then ice cream it is,” Matt declares, getting up as well. “My treat,” he adds much to your dismay. You don't get to protest, as he barrels on, holding his free hand out to Minnie, “Want to lead the way, sweetheart?”

Your daughter practically leaps up to grab onto her Daddy, demanding, “Carry me!”

“Minnie!” You quickly chastise, shame running through you. She knows better than to jump and climb on people, but you are beginning to fear Matt may become her new jungle gym. No one else shares this worry, least of all Matt, who simply gives into his daughter's will and swings her up onto his hip with a laugh. She clings to his neck and shoulder, and because she is sweet as pie, plants a big kiss on his cheek.

Everything happens so fast that you are still sitting on the blanket with Karen, and you don't even think of standing before Foggy is looking down at you and Karen, “What flavor do you want?”

“I'm feeling chocolate,” the strawberry blonde hums, tapping her index finger on her chin.

The shame and anxiety demon is growing in your throat at the implication you and Karen will stay while the men and your daughter fetch dessert. You want to say that you can pay and that you can go get it - that they should spend the time relaxing - but the darkness in your mind screams that if you say anything other than ‘vanilla’, you're going to ruin everything. Minnie's fun will stop, and Matt's friends are going to judge you, and thus him, and you can't do that.

So, you croak out your preference and hope Matt's super senses are too focused on his daughter to notice you are two steps away from a breakdown.

“One chocolate, one vanilla, coming right up,” Foggy says so cheerfully and you wonder if he is always like this, or if it is an act for Minnie. You honestly can't tell, especially when he turns his attention to your little one, “Okay, Lassie, where's the ice cream truck?”

Matt and Karen laugh at the reference, and you force a smile because it is a cute joke. Minnie points over her Daddy's shoulder towards the road and directs, “That way!”

Matt, managing to keep a straight face, purposely turns to face the river and takes a step towards it, “this way?”

“No, Daddy! Other way!”

“Ah,” he pivots to his left, so he is facing the bushes that border the edge of the park, “This way.”

Mouse dissolves into giggles, hiding her face against his neck and Matt gets the sweetest, dopiest smile on his face - like this is the best moment of his life. It makes your heart sing to see them play and tease and you wish so desperately you weren't in agony so you could actually enjoy it.

Your daughter must say something to Matt, as he lets out a loud barking laugh before kissing the top of her head, “Okay, okay, we won't miss the ice cream. Fog, would you be so kind?” He motions to the sidewalk with the hand holding his cane and there must be an understanding, as the blonde man holds out his arm for Matt to take. The cane is expertly folded up and the two men and your daughter start walking towards the road. It doesn't take more than a few steps for all of them to start laughing again.

You and Karen watch as they disappear down the sidewalk. The woman beside you is smiling softly, clearly enjoying the show that is Matt with Minnie. You hope you are smiling as well and not looking like some sort of summer Grinch.

“You know,” Karen says a few moments after they turn around a corner and go out of sight, “I don't remember the last time I saw him smile so much.”

You turn your attention to her, ducking your head just slightly, “she adores him.”

“And he adores her,” she quickly confirms. “And you.” You doubt that but know better than to try to argue. It doesn't matter, anyways, because she doesn't give you room to, continuing on, “He's been through a lot - not just his childhood but recently, too. I was really scared for him. We thought…we thought we lost him.” Your heart clenches tightly at the conversation. Karen switches from a soft smile to biting her lips and looking like she might start crying at the memories she's bringing up inside herself. “He's a good man but, truth be told, he's an idiot sometimes. He thought he was alone. That he had to be alone.”

You are lucky you are wearing your glasses because you can't bring yourself to look at Karen. It hurts to hear her talk about Matt in that way. You haven't had this sort of conversation with him - everything has been so surface level or about Minnie. You clear your throat and ask, “What about you and Foggy? You all seem very close.”

Karen laughs a little sadly, then tucks some hair behind her ear, “He and Foggy weren't talking. It was all…complicated. But it's better now. We're all good. Or we are working in it.” She takes a breath, and you see her look up, and you think she's smiling at you, “The point is he's…I don't worry anymore. You came into his life, and it is like you knocked some sense into him. He was never good at taking care of himself and now, he puts in the effort. He doesn't want to disappoint you. He wants to be a good dad.”

Her words confuse you - Matt seems very put together - he's a lawyer with amazing accomplishments under his belt. She must be talking about his personal life and fear trickles into your system. Was he an alcoholic or a drug user? As long as it was all behind him, you can't judge him for it. You know people have spotty pasts and even good people have rough times - and that doesn't make them any less of a good person. You'd be a hypocrite if you did think less of him because you've had your own share of troubles.

You want Karen to know that. You start to pick at the hem of your jeans, so you have something to do with your hands while your mind free-fall. “He's a good dad,” you start slowly. “He's amazing with Minnie. He's so attentive and understanding and I love watching them play. I'm still getting used to the whole…” you lower your voice, just in case, “super-senses thing, but he's been helpful in explaining things. I’m just glad he wants to be in her life.”

“Are hers as good as his?” She asks and you can feel her leaning towards you. You don't know the answer to that, as Matt hasn't exactly explained in detail what he is able to do, but you do know Minnie has abilities you didn't know were possible.

You shrug in response, “I'm not sure, but…I don't hear or see an ice cream truck, so.”

She laughs at that, then you fall back into a silence. You can tell she wants to ask more, but you aren't sure why she hesitates. You are grateful for it, though, and behind your glasses, you close your eyes. The back of your skull is throbbing and part of it has curled around to your left ear. You resist the urge to try to massage it away and instead try to stretch, letting your chin touch your collar bone. You focus on breathing through your nose, hoping it will magically make things more tolerable.

Your mind feels like sludge, and you start wondering how long it will take until Minnie is worn out. You usually end up spending about an hour and a half at the park, enjoying the sun and ducks, and you've only just gotten here. You have no idea if it will go quicker or slower with more people for Mouse to interact with. Usually, she stays in your lap, hiding away from people, but she very obliviously loves Foggy. You think it is because he's good with children - Matt told you he has a big extended family. She had opened up to him very quickly once she realized he is Matt's best friend. Best friend is an important word to a toddler, apparently.

“It isn't just Minnie,” Karen says suddenly, bringing you back to reality. You frown at her, not understanding what she's talking about. Had you missed part of the conversation?

“It isn't just Minnie,” she repeats, “it's you, too.”

You feel like a lost lamb. Your brain hasn't caught up with what is going on and all you can do is gawk at the woman beside you.

“Me…?” You question and she nods.

“You make him happy, too.”

You don't understand why she's telling you that or what it has to do with anything. You get you've made Matt happy by bringing Minnie into his life. The only response you can think to give is a simple, “I'm glad.”

You can feel Karen examining you, but you refuse to meet her gaze. You don't think that was the right thing to say, but it is all you have. You are glad bringing Minnie into Matt's life has made him happy and seemingly changed things for the better for him. You want him to have a good life.

In the corner of your eye, you see Karen reach out and you brace yourself as she puts her hand on your shoulder. She says your name, then gently questions, “Are you doing alright? You look pale.”

You force yourself to smile and give a dismissive shake of your head, “Just a little headache. I took some ibuprofen; it just hasn't kicked in yet.”

She quickly drops her hand, humming in sympathy, “I get that. I have some Motrin in my purse, if you need something stronger.”

“Oh, no, I'll be okay,” you promise.

You'll have to be okay. Minnie and Matt will be back from getting ice cream any minute and you will need to go into Mom-mode to make sure your daughter doesn't make an absolute mess of herself. Then, you'll need to keep an eye on her while you remain at the park for however long, because you will never forgive yourself if you give any indication to Matt's friends that you're not a suitable parent.

You just need to take a deep breath and make sure you don't space out again.

You'll be fine.

After all, it is just a headache.

Tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@petrovafire39 @allllium

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

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@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare

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@lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #and then i met you

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randomhealer · 11 months ago

Text

⇢ ˗ˏˋTaking care of a tamagotchi together ࿐ྂ

writing this since 3am and now it's five, unreviewed, neutral reader

~♡

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is a needy father... he already has a tamagotchi so as soon as you found out about this you automatically became the tamagotchi's mother/father along with him.

Malleus is so happy that his little virtual pet has someone else to take care of him along with Malleus, Malleus also uses this to spend more time with you, you are like a little family...

He will also demand that you spend time with the Tamagotchi, claiming that the pet misses you and feels neglected, he will get upset and pout if you don't spend time with him and the Tamagotchi.

There would definitely be another tamagotchi if you let him have one...like a little brother or sister for your tamagotchi...

but he is content with just one while you take care of him with him there is nothing else that would make him happy.

Jade Leech

Jade just looked at you with his usual smile as you explained about the virtual pet for him to take care of for you before saying a light "oya? if you wanted a child just ask me to make one with you-oh? don't you want to?" It's okay, I was just joking" but after giving him the tamagotchi, he seems to take seriously the idea of being you tamagotchi's father.

all the time he keeps the little thing away from Floyd, feeds him only healthy food, always bathes him and leaves the tamagotchi playing in the virtual park while he works on Lounge, after he comes back he gives the tamagotchi another bath and puts him to bed, Even though it's a virtual pet, he takes care of it as if it were real. After he gives you the tamagotchi back he explains everything that happened, what he ate and what he did, after that he will always take care of your virtual pet if you ask, occasionally you will have discussions about what would be healthy for the "child" of you or not (you saying that the tamagotchi needs to eat more sweets than mushrooms and fruits)

"too much sweets can end up giving them a stomach ache, you know I only want the best for our baby, besides I know you keep feeding him cakes every time you take care of him..." Jade says while talking to you at Mostro Lounge, smiling when he saw you trying to explain yourself.

...Meanwhile, Azul accidentally overheard this little part of the conversation and spent a week thinking about how he was going to ask Jade if he has a child with you or something...

Deuce spade

Deuce was more than happy when you gave him the tamagotchi, he looks at you with those eyes saying 'I'll be the best father in the world, I won't disappoint you' but he ends up forgetting about the tamagotchi and letting him starve to death the same day.

Poor boi...He even took care of him in the first hours, gave him food, bath and affection but the day went on and he was busy studying for a test, he went to the basketball club and even had extra classes with Divus... at the end of the day while he was almost asleep he was scared and remembered the virtual pet... when he saw the dead pet on the screen he was scared and in shock, he didn't know they could die...

he was literally in shock as if he had broken an egg... (old reference lol)

but in the end he knows he wouldn't be able to sleep without telling you this, in the end when he tells you he's almost in tears as he apologizes to you, until you explain that everything was fine and that you could revive another tamagotchi...he stays relieved but still continues to apologize and promises to take better care next time.

(Later Trey and Cater find out about this and help him take care of his pet in the meantime Ace is just laughing in the background)

Floyd leech

Floyd got a little irritated when he saw that you were paying more attention to that thing than him when he came to visit you, so he did the great feat of throwing you Tamagotchi through ramshackle's window.

(just joking about Floyd's part, I was going to do something more detailed but all that comes to my mind is either him throwing the tamagotchi somewhere and forgetting or him trying to eat the poor tamagotchi and not being able to and getting angry about it and ending up breaking lol, I was finally going to sleep but I couldn't without getting it out of my mind... Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it)

#twisted wonderland x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst x reader #deuce x reader #deuce spade x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #Twisted wonderland x yuu #malleus x yuu

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toon-tales · 3 months ago

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Here it is! Part three! Omg, I'm so excited for this!

Let's begin!

Ok, so, I know a lot of people say that Poppy hasn't changed a lot in the third movie but let me stop you right there!

Here's our girl, our happy-go-lucky queen cutely dressed and if I may, waiting for her boyfriend to compliment her looks like he always does

But then she notices something is wrong

You can see in the third pic, she was thinking how to approach the matter, because this, after all, is her boyfriend's old home, where he used to live with his grandmother. And in the fourth pic, her brows are even more furrowed

And here, oh my gosh this scene:

Can we look at Poppy, PLEASE?!

She's paying her full attention to Branch. She wants him to talk, to open up to her. HER EYES ARE FILLED WITH HOPE SHE'S ENCOURAGING HIM TO TALK TO HER

Skip, skip, skip, skiiiiiip, annnndddd here:

"I'm not hearing no!"

Branch doesn't look sad, he doesn't look mad, he doesn't look scared, he doesn't look uncomfortable, and most importantly, he doesn't look forced

True, Poppy was all "We are so in!", but unlike in Twt, she actually listened to Branch when he wanted to talk to her, and Branch actually talked when something he didn't like was going on. Do you even see how much they've grown?

Now, Poppy knows how hard life is without a sibling, and she doesn't want her boyfriend to just take his family for granted. Her heart was in the right place, people

And Branch didn't say no! He didn't refuse! They talked, different opinions and different thoughts and different mindsets, yet they worked things out

And yeah, I know Branch was probably thinking 'what have I gotten myself into' in this scene

But the entire movie was just Branch having issues and dealing with them. And Poppy was trying to help him. Also, in case you haven't noticed, things do not work out the way Poppy has imagined, just like in Twt, but the difference? Later, she didn't leave Branch alone to go save Floyd, she went with him. Now, I hear you saying: she went because Branch didn't say anything to her, while they fought in Twt, that's why she left him

Wrong!

Let me remind you that Branch lied to her, kept things from her, kept his feelings from her, didn't open up, and literally was being sarcastic and you can see she was hurt in this scene

And they're in a new relationship which Branch is already beginning with hiding stuff, yet she put all that behind because -I'm not gonna say boyfriend - the man she loved, needed her. So, yeah. She's changed

Takes a deep breath

Now, let's move on, shall we?

I just wanted to point out how Poppy was looking at Branch when he was trying to yet again hide his feelings. She knows what's up

Moving on to this scene:

The way she's telling them to include Branch? The pure happiness and excitement on her face for him! PLEASE?! May I remind you that SHE WASN'T SINGING WITH THEM BUT WAS THIS HAPPY FOR BRANCH?!

Now, I've already talked about the scenes I'm going to talk about now in the analysis posts, but I'm gonna copy-paste them here because I don't want you people going to those posts, then return to this one and lose your focus and vibe

You have Branch, whose brothers' return has reopened scars he's been trying to close for so long, and has just found out his brother is being held captive, and is now in a rescue mission to save him and sing the perfect family harmony, the same thing that they failed miserably at the last time so they walked out and never talked to each other again, comforting his girlfriend. Poppy needed time, needed him, and he was ready to give her all the time she needed and stay with her. Proof? He didn't move until she has left first, ensuring she was ready to leave

Then we have Poppy, who has just found out her boyfriend has been hiding secrets from her, and watched as he reluctantly agreed to reunite with his brothers, and discovered she had a sister that she knew n o t h i n g about, and that this sister was so afraid to leave her safe place and go with her, deciding to go help Branch save his brother. She took one last glance at the walls separating her from Viva, then walked towards Rhonda, silently signaling she was ready to leave.

They were both dealing with stuff, needed time to open up/stay, yet each one thought of the other

Then this scene was SOMETHING ELSE-

"Where are you going?"

"To save Floyd, alone. I didn't need them growing up and I don't need them now." He didn't even look back when he said, "What are you doing?"

And the look of disbelief on her face. "What do you mean? I'm coming with you!"

He literally gave her a blind eye, didn't look at her. He didn't want to get weak. "Why bother? Aren't you gonna leave me eventually anyway?" He was certain. He didn't wait for any reassurances because he didn't want to hear any and live a lie again. "Everyone else does."

But despite that, Poppy did NOT give up on him

"I have been by your side from the moment we've met, and you've been by mine. Let's give each other some credit here."

'and you've been by mine' this wasn't about her, but about THEM. This line has so much depth and meaning for their relationship

"You're right, I'm sorry. Thank you."

He started with the apology because he knew what he just said was WRONG. He knew she wasn't leaving, they've always been there for each other. And I don't think he thanked her for coming, maybe for reminding him? I mean, that's Branch we're talking about, he would surely have thoughts and insecurities about people leaving him

But Poppy's always there to remind him that she's always there

His mission is her mission. She was willingly going for an insane rescue mission, and face people BRANCH HIMSELF didn't know anything about, all the while trying to deal with the separation between her and Viva. But she was going with him. Because that's just them

All they wanted was for the other to be happy

And in the end? It worked out just fine

So, to sum up this post, and the previous two: no, Branch isn't perfect like we claim, nor Poppy is, too. Hiding things? Sure, that happens. Lying? Happens as well. Disagreements? Oh, yeah, lots of those. But in the end of the day? They work things out

Branch is perfect for Poppy, and Poppy is perfect for Branch

That's just love, and it doesn't have to be perfect all the time

Sooooo, that's it? Omg that was fuuuun!

Anyway, as usual, feel free to add or comment on anything!

Part one

Part two

#Trolls #Trolls band together #Branch Trolls #Poppy Trolls #Broppy #Broppy analysis #Trolls analysis #That was it peopleeee #Omgggg

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suguwife · 3 months ago

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𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧

tags: CEO gojo x f!reader, mean gojo, enemies to lovers trope, 18+ mdni, profanity, teasing, clit play, dub con (?)

- 4.8k wc

(series masterlist) -> chapter two

Silent.

The master bedroom of Gojo Satoru's sky-rise was deathly silent. Neither of you spoke to each other after you came home from the wedding. It was beautiful, yet the moments spent with him weren't. He was nothing but cold.

Neither of you spoke on the way back home, he hasn’t even spared you a single glance yet either. A mutual disdain for the situation you were in, an arranged marriage, one that neither of you truly wanted but was forced upon by his father for the sake of an heir to their family company.

Satoru stood in his master bedroom, loosening his tie from when he slid the ring onto my finger, binding us two together.

A complete joke. He hated this. He hated you. He didn't want to be married and now he was. His ring was now discarded on the bedside drawer.

In a few hours, you were both expected to attend a family dinner back at the Gojo Estate. Right now there was only silence.

Gojo POV

I wash my face in the bathroom, wiping it away with a plush, Egyptian cotton bath towel. Staring into the mirror, as I analyse the exhaustion in my expression. 27 years of being controlled under my father's rules were tiring. My whole childhood was just my father rambling on to me about the company and business and how I should behave. My family, apart from my biological mother, never loved me, so I’ve never really believed in love either. And hell, I don't think I'd ever fall in love with her either.

Not when I was surrounded by an angry and distant household my whole childhood, how could I ever believe in the joke of love? Marriage is useless to me. I didn't want to get married, especially not to some woman I barely knew.

Turning away from the mirror, I walk out the bathroom in just a pair of black sweatpants. The door separating the bathroom from the bedroom slowly opened.

When my eyes locked onto her sitting like a lost puppy on my bed I swallowed. My eyes were travelling over her figure, and it stayed there. How she was wrapped up in that cream, satin dress. How it highlighted every curve of her.

I push his hands into my pockets and lean against the bathroom door frame. I don’t say anything yet, waiting for her to speak first instead. My eyes continued to wander over her figure sitting on my bed. I take a deep breath and cross my arms over my chest, still leaning against the door frame, still staring at her.

I silently analyse her.

I hated her. I hated that she was the one that had father arrange this marriage. Hated that her family and mine were already friends, making it easier for this arrangement. I hated her so much I could strangle her.

Cruel, yes, do I care? No.

However, I couldn't deny her beauty.

I move away from the bathroom door frame, taking long strides towards her until I stood in front of her.

A soft sigh left my lips as my eyes continued to look over her. I hated her so much. She was only attractive, that’s all.

I slowly raise my right hand, and placed it under her chin, comfortably grabbing a hold of her entire jawline. Slowly, I raised her face, forcing her to look up at me.

Reader POV

You’re confused. Why is he touching you like this? Is he doing this for his own pleasure or is he trying to show affection? No idea. “What is it?”

His thumb finds your bottom lip, playing with the flesh as his eyes fixated on them whilst he speaks in a quiet and steady tone, “How do you feel about all this? The marriage?”

It was as if a predator was staring down you, the prey, trying to decipher what part of the body he should feast on first.

The more he rubs his thumb against your lip, the more your core tightens and you hate how sensitive you are to touch.

It's embarrassing, really. He didn't pay you any attention during the wedding or the way back and now he’s showing you affection?

You think to yourself. You wanted this marriage. You wanted him to love you, but he never wanted this.

After you told his father that you found an interest towards Satoru, he immediately arranged the marriage. You were unable to take back your words as he didn't listen. He just assumed you were too shy so he ignored your pleas, “It's fine really sir! I don't want to get married to him, I just found him attractive and interesting! That's all!”

You wish you never told his father how you felt about his son. His son is nothing but cold and you know he hates you. It's evident.

Now you’re stuck in a loveless marriage.

And yet you find yourself leaning into the touch of his fingers.

His fingers grab your chin with more pressure, “How do you feel about this marriage? Be honest with me.”

“Um...”

“Be honest with me, doll.” He repeats. That nickname was anything but endearing. It sounded cold, it was mocking you. Mocking you as his doll to control and play with.

Closing the gap further between you both, he leaned forward. His face hovered a mere few cm away from yours. Eyes sharp, breath scorching hot against your face. In fact, he seemed to almost enjoy seeing you all nervous and vulnerable. How cruel. Never mind, that little bit of arousal within you was gone like the wind.

“Are you okay with this marriage?” you say.

He was almost taken back by the question, loosening his grip on your chin. He stared at you silently for a few seconds before responding, “Why do you care?”

It’s not that you care, “I just want to know since you're asking me.”

He rolled his eyes at your response. “What do you think, hm?” he spits, his tone laced with sarcasm. He took a deep breath before continuing. “I feel like this is a mistake.”

It's only a mistake if you make it a mistake.

He continued to lean above you, his body hovering over yours. He was practically pinning you in place with his height and body size.

“This whole marriage was a mistake.” His voice still steady and sharp.

The tension in the air was thick, so thick it was suffocating. It felt as if trying to cut it with a damn knife wouldn't even work. That's how thick it felt.

He spoke again, his voice still cold and harsh. “We are only married because of the fucking elders of my family wanting an heir for the company soon. I don't love you, and I never will. Never.”

You knew he didn't. But you didn't expect him to stab you with those words with such force. You wished he'd just leave you alone.

But he wouldn't.

He's your husband now. You’re married to him. What a blessing.

“Don't get any ideas that this marriage is some goddamn fairytale. It's not. This isn't some happy end to your pathetic life. I can't even stand you. From the moment we met, I found you nothing but annoying.”

You get it, You understand. Why does he keep rambling?

If he can’t stand you why is touching you like this?

He paused and for a brief moment, an amused chuckle escaped from his lips.

He really seemed like a spawn of satan. You didn't expect this.

Tauntingly, and slowly, he began to push his thumb into your mouth, forcing your lips to remain parted, leaving you both uncomfortable and confused

“You're absolutely pathetic. You've been fawning over me for how many years now? And now what, you're my wife?

... I almost pity you.”

His thumb began to gently rub against your tongue inside your mouth. A cold chuckle escaped him as he watched your expression, your saliva coating his thumb. “You’re so goddamn easy to toy with. You want me so desperately, but I don't want you. Isn't that a funny joke?” He continued his little game, gently rubbing the pad of his large, rough thumb against your tongue.

All you could do was furrow your brows and muffle. You couldn't tell if you felt hurt or if you were enjoying this.

God, why are you even debating between two?

You should feel hurt, shouldn't you? So why is your body telling the opposite? Why does his thumb in your mouth feel so good?

Tears were brimming your eyes already from his words and the feeling of his thumb as he pushed further inside your mouth almost reaching for your throat making your lips quiver.

He moved his thumb slightly out again, but still inside your mouth. Gently moving in circles, the pad of his thumb rubbed against the soft flesh of your tongue. “What's wrong? Did I hurt your damn feelings?”

You knew you probably looked so flushed right now, heavy breaths and whimpers escaping you as his thumb continued. And he chuckles.

“Come on doll, say something. Use your pretty little voice.”

You can't speak. You let out a shaken muffle against his thumb in your mouth. He chuckles again. Clearly he found your inability to speak amusing. Dickhead.

He continues pressing his thumb against the flesh of your tongue, your warm saliva coating his skin.

“Did my words take your fucking voice away?” You can’t help but twitch.

“You're so easy to mess with, letting me do whatever the fuck i want. Even when I hurt your feelings. You're basically a toy.” He slowly pulled his thumb out as he spoke, his fingers still grabbing the bottom of your chin in a tight grip.

A string of saliva was still connecting his thumb and you mouth as he pulled it out. He moves his thumb back in as you swallow, making your mouth clench around his sudden entrance.

All you could do was let out another muffle and furrow your brows in frustration. He was messing your damn lipstick up. You’re supposed to go to the family dinner soon and he's messing you up.

What's that supposed to fucking mean?

“Ah, right. Forgot you're a little doll who has to be all prim and proper for the family dinner.” He titled your chin higher, leaning down with his burning breath blowing into your face. “You're so stupid. Getting all flustered and nervous from just a few shitty words, and your biggest worry is your makeup getting messed. Don't you worry about that, sweetheart. Your makeup will get messed up soon enough.”

Why is he taunting you? If he hates you, why is he saying such words? You’re so confused, questioning everything everytime he speaks.

“I said I don't love you, right doll?” His hand traced down from your chin to your neck and slowly wrapped itself around it. Tightening his grip.

You’re scared. You’re so scared. And yet your body is enjoying it. The between of your legs are heated and soaking wet with his behaviour.

You don't know if it's because you’re attracted to him and because he's giving you attention or if it's simply because you enjoy being hurt.

Probably both.

Are you a masochist? Surely not.

“What's the matter? I thought you would say something to defend yourself, or at least try to stand up to me. But I guess it's too much for you, huh?” He slowly began to push you down, forcing you to lay down on the bed, his large hand still wrapped firmly around your neck.

As he hovers over your body, he looks down, slowly applying more pressure onto your neck, pinning you in place, “You're pathetic, doll. You really are.”

Is he going to kill you?

He’s chuckling again darkly at the expression of panic on your face, “Ah, did I scare you doll?” He says with a mocking, soft tone.

He continues to slowly apply more pressure and you can feel your heartbeat and breathing pace up, but he’s chuckling. Again. “What's wrong, doll? You look scared.”

Why does he keep saying that damn name?

He leans closer to your face, his breath scorching hot against your skin, his body hovering mere centimetres away from yours. “Are you afraid that I might hurt you?”

That sentence, that sentence caused your fear to overcome your feeling of arousal. He's being serious.

You can’t move.

You can’t breathe.

His grip on your neck slowly started to loosen again and you immediately start to catch your breath, but his hand begins trailing downwards, moving towards the fabric of your satin dress, “Don't worry, doll.” He paused, leaning even closer, his lips making their way to my ear.

“I won't hurt you too badly, for now.” He whispers into your ear. Jolting fear and terror right through you. What does that mean?

Is he going to abuse you later? Have you really married an abusive man?

You can't help but whimper in response, fear running through your veins.

“Look at you, doll.”

He keeps calling you that and you hate it. You hate it so much. You hate it because when he calls you it, it's to show you as pathetic, as something he can toy with.

He continues to move his large hand, pushing up the fabric of your dress and resting it on the fat of your thigh, just above the strap of the garter that you hadn't bothered to take off yet.

“You look so damn nervous and scared right now. Maybe you should be. It's not fun if you're not.” He slowly began to trail his hand up your thigh, pushing the fabric up in the progress.

“Stop.. we have to attend the dinner soon-“

“Oh, my Y/N is so damn worried about being on time for these stupid dinners, isn't she?” He starts to slowly slide his hand up further underneath your dress. “Calm down, doll. Theres no need to worry about the fucking family dinner. I'm sure they won't mind if we're a little late.”

Slowly, he began to toy with the strap of your garter, gently teasing the fabric with his long, cold fingers. “Maybe I just want to keep you all to myself.” He whispers into your ear and you can feel his breath hot against your neck, making you hitch your breath.

“Maybe I just want to mess you up before this stupid family dinner, and show everyone the way you fall apart under my touch.” He's right, you are falling apart.

How pathetic.

“You look so damn pretty in this dress. It's too bad that I know it wont stay on for much longer, doll.”

You flush, like an idiot.

You can literally feel the heat radiating off your cheeks. A cold, distant chuckle escapes him as he stares down at you.

What the fuck are you doing?

“Oh, doll.” He whispers into your ear once more. “You're getting all excited at the idea of me messing you up, aren't you?” His fingers gently push your underwear to the side, tracing and smoothing his digits over your already wet folds, up and down. Your eyeslids flutter in response, completely flushed as you let out a shuddered breath.

He chuckles again. He keeps fucking chuckling.

“Look at you, so desperate and needy, but I know you want this. You want me to mess you up. Don't you?”

Slowly, he removes his hand, tracing his finger up your body in a taunting manner, gently tracing the curves and dips of your figure before stopping at your chest, just above the fabric of the dress.

“Well it's not gonna happen.” He snaps in a low, frustrated tone looking down at you with nothing but immense hatred.

Oh, okay.

He removes his hand away from you, pushing himself back slowly, moving off your body that he finds so much disgust in. He sits on the edge of the bed.

That's it? He built up your breathing, made you get wet from his sickening words, and then just.. moves away?

"What the hell did you think was gonna happen here?" He says in a bitter tone.

You have no idea. You don't know why you’re being so passive either. This isn’t you.

Maybe it is you.

God get a grip!

“Did you think I was gonna give you what you want?” He paused, running a hand through his hair with a frustrated expression. He's so frustrated. He's always frustrated. “You really think you're that damn lucky?”

He pauses again as he sits on the edge of the bed. Then speaks again. “Y/N, you're so fucking desperate. It’s almost embarrassing for you.”

You lay on your back in that same position he had pinned you down on by holding onto your throat, almost killing you.

You’re left dumbfounded.

He continues to look down at the ground, avoiding eye contact with you, his fists clenched at his sides. “You’re so desperate for my touch. So desperate for my attention. You’re so obsessed with me it’s almost sickening.” He says in a low, annoyed tone.

That’s not true.

Maybe it is.

“Do you have any idea how much I hate this? How much I hate you?” He clenched his fists tighter and let out a bitter scoff, still avoiding eye contact. “I despise you, Y/N. Every single damn thing about you pisses me off. You’re nothing but a headache to me.” He paused for a moment, his voice becoming ice cold. “Honestly I wish I could just rip your fucking heart out and snap it in two.”

You flinch at the words, a single tear rolling down your eye that you didn’t even notice until it itches down the skin of your neck.

How could he say such things? Does he mean that?

You don’t like him. Forget it. All that attraction is gone.

“What, are you about to cry now?”

You don’t respond, another tear escaping as you stare at the ceiling.

Why are you crying? You don’t care.

“Ah look, another tear. Do you want me to comfort you or something?” He mocks tauntingly. “Want me to tell you that it’s just a little joke?” “Want me to say I love you?”

Stop it.

He continues to watch the tears escape your eyes as your face remains expressionless, an expression of disgust now on his face. You slowly sit up, hair messed from him pinning you on the bed, your lipstick smudged by his thumb.

“Look at you, you look a fuckin’ mess.” He chuckles as he takes in your current state.

You continue to stay silent. What's the point of biting back? He’ll just bite back worse.

“You look even more pathetic when you don’t speak Y/N, but I guess it’s better this way. It’s better when you don’t speak.” He says in a mocking tone. Always mocking you. “Because every single word that leaves your mouth pisses me off even more than I already was.” Bitter. “Honestly, I wish you would just shut your mouth all the time. It’d be better for the both of us.” He lets out a bitter scoff as he glares at you sternly. “But of course you never do. You’re always whining or begging. You’re so fucking loud.”

What the fuck is he ranting about now? You’re irritated.

He’s just throwing random delusions in his mind that he’s created in his small pea-sized brain to justify his hatred towards you. Well you hate him too now. “I’ve barely spoken since we got married this morning-“ But of course he cuts you off.

“You still spoke plenty at the wedding.” He says irritably as he rolls his eyes. “And all those people saw what a desperate, clingy mess you are. You were practically begging me to say I love you at the altar.”

That’s not true either.

“They saw you cling onto me like a toy. They saw you holding onto my arm. They saw the way you were all flustered when I said my vows to you.”

You were just playing the act of a happy bride.

“They saw how you looked at me when I slid that ring onto your finger. Like you were seeing your whole world fall into place or whatever other bullshit.” He lets out another scoff, his voice laced with bitterness. “God, you make me sick.”

“Well why did you agree to this arrangement if you never wanted it?” You bite back, irritated by his stupid accusations.

“I agreed to this arrangement because I didn’t have a damn choice, doll. Did you really think I would choose to marry you?” He clenches his fists at his sides again.

He does that quite often and you can't tell if he’s trying to ease his tension or if he’s doing that to hold back from punching you.

Probably the second theory.

What is it that he has against you so badly? Did he have to break up with someone to be with you or what?

“Now I’m stuck with you because father wants a fucking heir. I hate you, it makes me sick to think about a child with you.” He continues to glare at you, his expression still filled with hatred and annoyance. “It's like he knew exactly how to make me suffer. He knew that marrying me to a clingy, desperate doll like you would really piss me off. And he was right.”

He keeps saying you’re clingy. You’re not clingy?

He was the one with his thumb in your mouth a couple minutes ago. Not the other way around.

“Father knew that having a wife like you, who's obsessed with me, would be the worst possible nightmare for me. And now he’s trapped me with you forever, doll.”

You’re the trapped one here. You don’t know why you’re not arguing back as much. Well, mainly it’s because you know he won’t listen, won’t care and would just stick to his stupid thoughts.

“I’m not clingy, where the fuck do you keep getting that from?”

“Doll, you’ve been clinging to me since morning. At the damn wedding, you were hanging onto my arm the whole time, and you were blushing like a damn idiot when I slid the ring onto your finger. Do you really think that's not clingy?”

“Thats because we needed to show the guests that the marriage is fine.” You grit your teeth in response. Is it not obvious?

He sneered at your comment. “Ah, there it is. That bullshit excuse. You were doing it for the guests, right? To show them that everything is fine. You were just faking your clinginess to show the damn guests that it's ‘fine’, huh? Is that what you're telling yourself?”

He chuckles bitterly “You were not just faking it for the guests, doll. You wanted to cling onto me in front of everyone. You wanted to let them all know that you're mine now”

You let out a sigh as he speaks, nothing you say will go through his thick head. Whats the point in arguing back? You’d waste your breath.

He lets out a scoff. Always scoffing. “What? Is that a sigh of defeat, doll? Finally accepting that you're just a clingy, desperate, obsessed mess?”

“I’m not obsessive.”

He rolls his eyes again. “Oh? So you're not obsessed with me?” He paused for a moment, sarcastically pretending to think before he continued. “So you don't spend your whole day thinking about me? You dont think about when you get to touch me again? You dont fantasize about when you can get my attention again?”

Is he fantasising that? Are his memories messed up?

You don’t do any of that. You almost want to laugh, holy shit.

“You just have a big ego.” You say as you turn your head to glare back at him, scoffing a laugh. Frustration evident across your features.

He lets out a bitter chuckle at your comment. "Maybe you're right, doll. I do have a big ego.”

You sigh again as you begin to stand up.

“What, you giving up now?”

Ignoring him, you make your way to the large walk in closet and fix yourself in the mirror, and you know he’s watching you.

“Doll?” He calls out in a cold tone.

He calls out again, this time raising his voice slightly “Doll, get back out here and stop avoiding me.”

You brush my hair, still ignoring him. Now he wants you back near him? He’s just contradicting himself.

You’re hurting his ego by ignoring him yet you’re giving what he wants by leaving him alone.

Clearly his ego is winning.

“Y/N.” He says in a stern tone. No longer using that awfully sick nickname of ‘Doll.’ “I said get out here, now.”

Why does he want you near him again? He just said you make him sick. You reapply your lip liner.

He groans irritably when you continue to ignore his calls and you can feel his presence nearing you.

You tint your lips with a gloss, he’s right behind you now, peering over your shoulder as you continue to touch up your appearance. He watches in silence, his expression still filled with resentment and annoyance.

He lets out a scoff when he sees you running the liner over your lips again. He rolls his eyes at the sight. “Jesus Christ, doll. How much lipstick do you have on right now?”

You continue to ignore his words as you rub your lips together and dab them with your finger.

His expression remains cold and annoyed, but you don’t miss the way his pupils trail and take in every feature of your face and body through the mirror.

Finally, you turn around, his gaze still locked on you. His eyes slowly wander over every inch of you, taking in the way the light reflects off your skin, and how the fabric of your dress hugs your body. He takes in every little detail, from your hair, to the blush on your cheeks, to the shine on your lips.

You still ignore him, walking past him.

He lets out a scoff, clearly annoyed. “Are you just gonna pretend l'm not here now?”

He steps forward, stopping you in your tracks as he places a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to stop. “Don't ignore me.” He said in a cold, irritated tone.

He steps closer, closing the distance between the two of you. He grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing you to look up at him. “Don't ignore me when I'm speaking to you, Y/N.”

He’s so close to you now, again, his icy gaze locked on you. His body is pressed up against yours, trapping you in his grasp. He holds your chin firmly, keeping you in place as he speaks in a cold, commanding tone. “You will look at me when I speak to you. You will not ignore me. Understand?”

Who the fuck is he talking to?

He waits for your response, his gaze fixated on you. He keeps his grip firm on your chin, not allowing you to look away or escape his grasp. “Answer me, y/n.”

You look up at him, taking in his presence. He’s beautiful. His heart is not. His heart is just as icy as his eyes. His beautiful eyes.

He holds your gaze for a moment, “Good.” He says in an approving tone. He releases his grip on your chin, but doesn't move away from you. He remains standing closely to you, his body still pressed against yours

He lets out a scoff, his expression still cold. “You really are a pain in the ass, you know that?” He paused for a moment, before continuing in a mocking tone.

Now he’s complaining? “You don’t even want me near you.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I don't want you near me, doll. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna let you ignore me or avoid me when I'm speaking to you.”

Oh, so it’s about control.

You’re bored of being in this room. You’re bored of his childish behaviour. You sigh as you speak, “We should get going, your father’s estate is an hour away.”

He scoffs at your sigh. “Yeah, yeah we should get going. And don't sigh at me again, doll. You know that pisses me off.”

Do you care? No.

He takes a step back from you, giving you some space to move. He walks over to his wardrobe putting on plain black pants and a white shirt, leaving the first 2 buttons unbuttoned. God, he looks so good.

He fixes his hair quickly then you both head over to the penthouse entrance and pull on your shoes.

“Come on.” He grabs his car keys and you both make your way out. He steps into the elevator alongside you, his expression still cold and emotionless. Standing silently in the elevator, he crosses his arms over his chest.

The elevator dings and you both enter the garage. He leads the way to his car, unlocking the doors with the key fob in his hand.

He walks over to the driver seat but doesn’t open the passenger door for you.

Why would he anyway? There’s nobody around.

Nobody to fake your appearance to.

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