SUMMARY: When a game of hide-and-seek with Henry in the Creel house turns into laughter with hands that just won’t stay to themselves.
WARNINGS: sexual teasing, flirty touching, suggestive content, smutty vibes.
NOTES: finallyy i finished this lol! been superr busyyy playful Henry energy ahead!! @rainyecliptic
“Ready or not… I’m coming!”
Henry’s voice echoed through the Creel house which made your stomach twist in a mix of excitement and nerves.
You pressed yourself against the side of his bed trying to make yourself small.
The floorboards creaked somewhere outside and you held your breath as your hands gripped the edge of the mattress.
“Sweetheart? Where are you?” Henry teased and then without warning his hands were on your sides.
“Henry, Hahahah! Stop, Please!” You yelped trying to pull away but he held you gently yet firmly in place. His fingers exploring every sensitive spot along your ribs and waist.
You squirmed beneath him with laughter spilling from your lips uncontrollably.
“You’re too easy,” He whispered with voice soft and amused.
“I’m gonna get you back!”
Henry only chuckled as he leans closer sending shivers down your spine.
Suddenly, your foot caught the bed frame when you stood up causing you and Henry to fall down the bed.
Henry’s got you pinned down.
“I see you’ve fallen… literally,” He said softly, his lips twitching in that faint unsettling smile.
His warm thumb traced along your jawline. “Is your foot hurting, sweetheart?”
“Not… not really…” You propped yourself on your elbows and leaned instinctively toward him drawn to the warmth radiating from his body.
“Good,” He whispered leaning closer. His hands slid to your side tracing your figure which was enough to make you squirm. “Because I don’t plan on letting you go.”
Your laughter died in your throat as his face hovered closer your lips inches from his.
His dark eyes caught yours and you felt a flutter of nervous anticipation in your chest.
Then his lips were on yours.
Your hands instinctively tangled in his hair pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.
He pulled back and murmured, brushing his hand down to your face to your cleavage.
“Next time, I won’t let you hide at all.”
Bonus Scene:
You peeked around the corner calculating your next move.
“Hmm… are you behind the staircase? Behind the sofa? No? Then where…?” Henry taunted from the hall crouching low as he scanned the rooms.
You had a sudden brilliant or maybe dumb idea.
You lunged out from your hiding spot sprinting toward the kitchen.
You darted around the corner narrowly avoiding the old floorboards that creaked under your feet.
Henry saw you and ran to get you.
He was too close but the thrill of the chase made your stomach flutter with excitement.
“Henry! You’re so slow!” You said grinning like a maniac as you skidded past the dining table.
Your laughter and his teasing shouts echoed through the house.
“Hey—!” You said but before you could turn away, Henry’s hands slid beside your waist.
In one smooth motion, he twisted you so you’re facing him.
“See? I can catch you… even when you think you’ve escaped.”
His eyes locking to yours then down to your lips and kissed you softly.
SUMMARY: during the final battle, el and the group finds a girl floating inside the abyss, frozen in time.
Henry Creel never meant to love anyone and yet she existed.
She used to sit beside him on the living room floor quietly admiring Henry's pet spiders.
When other kids thought he was strange, she never did.
“You just think louder than everyone else,” she told him once.
Henry thought that meant she’d stay.
The disease came quietly.
At first it was nothing, headaches, dizziness, hands that trembled when she tried to write. She laughed it off, saying she was just tired.
Then Henry suddenly disappeared during her lowest point when she needed him the most.
Years passed, her body finally gave out. Her parents called for help in a panic.
She was rushed to the hospital, tubes and monitors surrounding her.
Even in the bright, cold lights of the emergency room, her thoughts drifted to Henry.
She imagined him standing beside her bed but he wasn’t there. He hadn’t been there for years.
The news came to Henry when an elderly man from the lab, one of the few Henry trusted, approached him quietly.
“Henry, she’s been admitted to the hospital.” He hesitated. “I heard from a nurse that she might not make it tonight.”
Henry froze, the world narrowing to that one sentence.
“Her name?” Henry asked, calm but sharp, though his heart was hammering.
The old man met his eyes. “The same one you asked me to watch for… years ago.”
Henry’s chest tightened.
Years ago, he had made the old man promise to keep an eye on anyone with her name, the girl he could never save.
He had thought that would be enough. He had thought that knowing she was safe somewhere, would be enough.
“If anyone finds out I let you go… you know what that could mean for me.”
Henry’s jaw was tight. “I don’t care. She’s in trouble.”
The old man hesitated a moment, then added, almost as if talking to himself, “I hope you know what you’re risking.”
Henry didn’t stop until he reached the hospital.
The nurse looked up, her brow furrowed, studying him like she wasn’t sure whether to trust him. “Sir… do you have any relation to the patient?”
“Yes. I—she’s important. Please. I need to see her.”
The nurse hesitated, but the urgency in his tone made her step aside. “Room 312. But… she’s in critical condition. Coma.”
He ran down the hallway two steps at a time, his mind replaying the soft sound of her voice that he has not heard in years.
Henry opened the door leading to room 312 and reached her bedside and froze. She was fragile, surrounded by tubes.
“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’m not leaving. I should’ve been here. I—”
It seems like the world is against Henry when the monitor starts beeping rapidly, signaling that her heartbeat is starting to fade.
The monitor’s beeping was deafening, each rapid pulse a reminder that she was slipping away.
He knew what he could do.
Henry’s hands touched his neck where he could feel a small tiny device suppressing his powers, the small suppressor that had kept him obedient.
He reached into his pocket and drew a small, sharp knife he had kept hidden, one the old man had unknowingly helped him smuggle out.
With a swift motion, he cut the device free.
Pain flared as the device detached from his skin, but he barely registered it.
He closed his eyes, focusing every ounce of his power and ability on her and then it happened.
Time stopped. Only for her.
Not the world around him, but her body, her breath, her heartbeat, and every single fragile cell in her body .
The monitors froze mid-beep and the lights kept on flickering.
She was floating in midair perfectly still and fragile like the perfect moment snatched from the edge of death.
Every ounce of Henry’s attention was on her as she floated when the door to the room opened abruptly and the nurses rushed in panicked.
Henry’s head shot toward them and caught sight of their startled expressions.
He prepared to react, to shield her from them, to make her invisible if he had to but when he looked back at her everything had changed.
She was lying in the bed again.
Henry’s gaze darted to the monitor. The screen was fractured, the screen blinking erratically before going dark entirely.
Henry didn’t stay in the room as the nurses did their work then slipped into a nearby hallway.
He didn’t get far.
The first jolt hit him between the shoulder blades.
Henry collapsed to one knee with his teeth clenched and vision turning back and white.
Another stronger shock followed as hands grabbed him and shackles snapped around his wrists.
When he woke, the ceiling was familiar.
Dr. Brenner stood at the foot of the room with his hands clasped behind his back.
“You disobeyed a direct order,” Dr. Brenner said calmly.
Henry said nothing.
“And for what? a girl?”
That did it.
Henry’s head snapped up to meet his gaze, his eyes burning as power surged despite the restraints.
The metal groaned. Brenner barely had time to react before his feet lifted off the ground.
An invisible force was wrapped around Brenner’s throat. He gasped as his hands clawed uselessly at the air.
The lights began to flickered violently.
“You took years from me,” Henry continued, voice eerily steady. “You took her from me.”
For a moment Henry considered killing him but electricity from the electric chair went through Henry’s body.
Brenner dropped, collapsing to the floor.
Henry screamed and his vision blurred as the world collapsed into noise and pain.
Brenner staggered back to his feet, adjusting his tie with trembling hands, breathing ragged.
“Enough,” Dr. Brenner said to his assistant who turned on the power of the electric chair.
Dr. Brenner slowly approached Henry.
“You will never leave this facility again,”
Henry laughed weakly.
Brenner stared at him for a long moment then he smiled.
Dr. Brenner went to the hospital once more surrounded by guards from the laboratory and went to the girl.
“She isn’t progressing, no brain activity loss and no signs of decay and her vitals are completely unchanged.”
That got his attention.
She lay on the bed like a porcelain figure.
Brenner stepped closer and he checked.
Time had simply stopped touching her.
“Incredible,” Brenner murmured.
“Sir… she’s not breathing.”
“And yet she lives,” Brenner replied softly, very impressed.
“Her cells are suspended. Locked in a temporal stasis.”
His gaze lifted slowly.
“Prepare her for transport,” Brenner ordered, his voice precise and cold. “We are bringing her to the lab. Love, it seems, makes him unpredictable.”
Back in the lab, Henry screamed because he felt the moment Dr. Brenner laid eyes on her and for the first time since he was a child, Henry was afraid, not for himself but for her.
Henry’s fists tightened around the restraints after a while when the doors opened and Dr. Brenner entered.
“This is your new cage which is designed to suppress every ounce of your ability.” Dr. Brenner held a small device.
The device hovered near Henry’s neck then it latched onto his skin as lights flared under.
“You are strong, yes… but now every spark of power is monitored and crushed.”
The abyss was quiet in a way Hawkins never was.
Then she saw her.
“Wait,” Eleven whispered.
The others hovered behind her with their weapons half-raised.
In the center of the hive, a girl floated in midair, motionless.
She wore a hospital gown as it fluttered gently with its sleeves lifting with its hem swaying like she was submerged in water.
Her hair drifted around her head, strands spreading in every direction.
She looked breakable.
Robin’s breath hitched. “Oh my God…”
Steve took an unconscious step forward, instinct screaming at him to help, like he always did when someone smaller and weaker needed it.
“She’s breathing, right?”
“She’s not but she’s alive,” Eleven said. Blood slipped from her nose.
Eleven dropped back into herself with a gasp, knees buckling as memories filled her.
“He hid her here,” Eleven said, voice shaking. “When she was dying. He put her in a sleep so deep even the sickness couldn’t find her.”
Joyce’s eyes filled with tears as she stared at the floating girl.
Robin swallowed hard. “So this is why he built all of this.”
“To keep her,” Will said softly. “To keep one thing untouched.”
“He put her to sleep without end,” Lucas repeated quietly remembering Max. “So the sickness wouldn’t reach her.”
Vecna stepped out of the void with his eyes burning with a rage so raw it felt almost human and went to stand in front as if shielding the only thing that matters to him.
Hopper raised his gun even though he knew it was useless. Joyce grabbed Eleven’s arm.
“El,” she pleaded. “Be careful.” Eleven nodded.
“I can help her,” Eleven said, voice steady despite the pain. “I can wake her up. I can pull her out without hurting her.”
“Wake her up to what?” He demanded, his voice booming through.
“A body that fails her? A world that abandons her? Did you think that I haven’t tried that?”
“You hid her from the lab to here,” Eleven shot back. “You trapped her between seconds so you wouldn’t have to lose her.”
Eleven stepped closer, “Let me help her. Let me help you.”
Vecna together with the abyss went silent.
The girl’s fingers twitched just once and Eleven felt it immediately.
“She’s waking up,” she whispered.
Vecna screamed in agony when the vines slid back into his skin.
His monstrous shape collapsed inward, shrinking, unraveling until the creature was gone.
A man fell to his knees.
Henry Creel gasped like he had just been pulled from deep water.
He stared at his hands, shaking. “No… this isn’t—”
The girl inhaled.
A sharp, fragile breath that tore through the silence.
Her body dropped from the air and Eleven caught her.
Her eyes fluttered open.
“Henry,” she whispered.
Henry crawled towards her, stopping just short afraid to touch her like she might vanish.
“You’re awake,” he said, voice breaking. “I didn’t know if you ever would. I tried to keep you safe. I didn’t know how to let you go without losing you—”
“I knew you’d come back,” she said softly. “I’ve always waited for you.”
She lifted her hand, brushing his cheek.
Henry’s chest heaved. Tears spilled freely as he pressed his head to her palm. “I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m here now.”
The hive began to collapse like a dream ending at dawn.
Joyce cried openly, wrapping Will in her arms. Hopper lowered his gun, exhaling heavily. Steve and the others exhaled their breath they hadn’t realized they had been holding.
Dustin’s mouth fell open. “Eddie?” he gasped, voice cracking. He stumbled forward, almost tripping in his excitement, and flung his arms around Eddie.
“I thought you were gone! I thought I lost you..”
Eddie held him tightly and slapped Dustin’s back gently as if grounding him in reality.
“I’m alive. You didn’t lose me.”
Tears spilled down Dustin’s cheeks as he pulled back slightly, searching Eddie’s face. “You have no idea what it felt like… I can’t… I’m just… I’m so happy you’re here!”
Eddie grinned through his own tears. “Yeah… me too, buddy. Me too.”
Meanwhile, Lucas and Steve’s eyes flicked to Billy, tense.
“How’s Max?” Billy asked wary. “Is she…?”
“She’s… she’s okay. Better than okay, actually. She fought her way through, like always. She’s a tough person.”
“Yeah, I know she’s tough. That’s my sister.”
Weeks later, the hospital room was filled with sunlight.
The girl sat upright in the bed. Her cheeks were flushed with color for the first time in years.
Henry sat beside her and his eyes shine brighter than they had in years.
“You… you’re really okay,” he whispered, voice cracking.
“It’s gone.”
Henry laughed, a sound raw with relief and disbelief.
“I couldn’t imagine… I couldn’t survive not seeing you alive like this.”
Eleven stood nearby, smiling softly.
The world outside the hospital was still broken in pieces, but inside this small room, everything was finally right.
She had been healed and Henry had never been happier.
Summary: A senator informs Geta about the rumors surrounding his wife
Author's Note: This fic consists of pieces I took out from a much longer fic I had written. After reading what I originally wrote I didn't really vibe with the whole thing and so I took out parts I liked best to create this fic. Idk if it's better or worse because things feel a bit rushed in this fic now and not as cohesive as before but it's good enough I think ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I was partly inspired by Fire & Blood where it says that some in court found Queen Rhaenys Targaryen suspicious because she spent time with bards and singers and they were sure she must be having an affair on Aegon I. Also the title is from the Elvis song of the same name because it popped into my head while writing this because it's similar to the plot lol.
~~~
The late afternoon sun streamed through the marble arches of the palace, casting shadows across the floor of the Emperor’s private chamber. Emperor Geta paced restlessly, his jaw clenched tight, his fingers twitching. The rumors had come to him this morning, carried by a senator whose words had been carefully chosen, yet laced with venom.
“She is often seen in the company of poets and bards, my Emperor. Some say perhaps too often.”
The words echoed in Geta’s mind as he strode to the balcony. Below him, others strolled about, oblivious to the storm brewing in his heart. He had always known that his wife had a fondness for the arts. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her. The way her eyes lit up when she heard the verses of a poem she thought was interesting, the soft smile that graced her lips during the final notes of a ballad. She was a woman of intelligence and charm. Perfect qualities to be his empress.
But now those very same qualities and interests had become the source of his unrest.
~
Geta finds his wife out in the garden. “I had hoped to speak with you my wife,” he said, his tone polite but firm.
“What troubles you, my love?” she asked, her brow furrowing as she stepped closer to him.
Geta studied her, his gaze lingering on her face, searching for some sign of guilt. But she looked as she always did, serene, composed, and beautiful. “There are whispers in the court,” he began slowly, “that your affection for music and poetry has extended beyond mere appreciation.”
His wife’s eyes widened, and then she laughed softly, a sound like the chiming of bells. “Surely you don’t believe such nonsense.”
“I don’t want to,” Geta admitted, his voice low. “But the court is not kind to a woman who spends her days surrounded by other men, no matter how innocent her intentions.”
Her smile faded, and she placed a hand on his arm. “Geta, these men are poets, musicians and artists. They speak to me about the soul, not the flesh. My heart belongs to you, and only you.”
He wanted to believe her. He needed to believe her. But the thought of her laughter, her attention, her admiration being bestowed on another man gnawed at him. “Then why do others speak of you so?” he demanded, his voice rising slightly. “Why do they say you adore Bacchus so much that you have embraced his indulgences?”
His wife stiffened, her hand falling away. “Do you question my virtue?” she asked, insulted that her husband would believe such nonsense about her.
“I question the company you keep!” he snapped, the words sharper than he intended.
She took a step back, her expression conveying her hurt and frustration. “You have always known who I am Geta. I am not a woman content to sit idly in the palace, just simply gossiping my day away. I find joy in the divine chaos of creation. If that makes me suspicious in the eyes of our court then so be it. But I will not apologize for things I did not do.”
Her words hung in the air between them, heavy with emotion. Geta clenched his fists, his anger warring with his love for her. Finally he spoke, his voice softer. “I do not wish to stifle you. But I cannot bear the thought of others questioning your loyalty or your love for me.”
His wife stepped closer, her gaze steady. “Then let me reassure you, my emperor. I am as sure of my love for you as I am about Sol bringing us the sun each morning. But if you doubt me, then tell me what must I do to prove myself?”
He sighed, reaching out to cup her face in his hands. “Stay with me tonight,” he murmured. “Let the poets and bards sing their songs without you for once. Let Bacchus have his revelry elsewhere.”
She smiled faintly, leaning into his touch. “If it will ease your mind, my dear husband then I will stay.”
Geta pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if to shield her from the whispers that sought to undermine them. But even as he held her, a shadow of doubt lingered, refusing to be banished entirely.
~
The grand halls of the palace echoed with the click of her delicate sandals against the marble floor. The weight of her husband’s arm on her shoulder was both reassuring and suffocating. For the past three days, Geta had not let her out of his sight. Where she went, he followed. Where he could not follow, he sent his guards to watch her every step. It was unlike him, and though his paranoia was silent, she could feel it in the way his fingers tightened around her arm, in the watchful, almost desperate glint in his eyes.
She had tried to comfort him, tried to reassure him of her loyalty, but it seemed no words could pierce through the suspicion that had taken hold of him.
During a feast, Geta watched his wife like a hawk as she entertained a visiting nobleman whose son had written a collection of poems. His wife listened to the man intently, her soft smile never wavering as the man recited a verse.
But Geta saw something else. He saw how the man’s eyes lingered on her, how her laughter seemed to light up the room. His fingers dug into the armrests of his chair, his jaw tightening. Was it admiration? Was it mere courtesy? Or was there something more? The thoughts churned in his mind like a storm, dark and unrelenting.
When the man left, Geta wasted no time. He rose abruptly, crossing the room to where his wife stood.
“You enjoyed his company,” he said, his voice low but laced with accusation.
His wife blinked, startled by his tone. “He was reciting his son’s poetry, my dear husband. That’s all it was.”
“You smiled at him,” Geta pressed, his eyes narrowing. “You laughed.”
“Am I not allowed to smile and laugh?” she asked softly, though there was a tinge of frustration in her voice. “Must I always wear a sour expression to please you?”
His hand shot out, gripping her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “You are mine,” he said, his voice trembling - not with anger, but with something deeper, something more fragile. “Your smiles, your laughter, they belong to me and no one else.”
Her eyes softened as she saw the flicker of insecurity behind his harsh words. She reached up, covering his hand with her own. “And they are yours, Geta,” she murmured. “Only yours.”
His grip loosened, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if afraid she might vanish. “I will not lose you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I cannot.”
~
For the next several days, Geta’s wife’s world shrank. Where she once wandered the gardens freely, now her husband walked beside her, his hand resting possessively on her waist. When she visited the library, he went with her. Her gatherings with poets and musicians were no more, replaced by dinners where Geta sat her beside him, his eyes never leaving her.
She tried to be understanding, but his constant scrutiny weighed heavily on her. One evening, as they sat together in their chambers, she finally spoke.
“Geta,” she began, her voice tentative. “Do you not trust me?”
He looked up from the goblet of wine in his hand, his expression guarded. “Of course I trust you, you are my wife,” he said after a long pause. “It is everyone else I do not trust.”
“You cannot keep watch over me forever,” she said.
His jaw tightened. “You are my wife,” he said firmly. “My empress. And I will not risk anyone else taking you from me.”
“Even if it means suffocating me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Geta flinched, as if her words had struck him. He set the goblet down and rose to his feet, pacing the room. “You do not understand,” he said, his voice low and strained. “I have enemies everywhere. We have enemies everywhere. They would use you against me. They would take you from me. Take your love away from me”
“Who could take me when I am yours in both heart and soul?” she asked, rising to stand before him.
He stopped, his gaze meeting hers. For a moment, he looked like a man on the edge of breaking, his carefully constructed armor of intimidation cracking to reveal the fear beneath. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “But the thought of losing you terrifies me.”
She reached out, cupping his face in her hands. “Geta,” she said softly, “you will not lose me. I love you.”
He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “Promise me,” he whispered. “Promise me you will never leave me.”
“I promise,” she said, though her heart ached at the desperation in his voice.
He pulled her into his arms again, holding her as if his life depended on it. She sighed softly, resting her head against his chest. She understood that his possessiveness was not born of cruelty, nor out of a need to stifle her but it was of a fear he could not truly voice, a fear he could not truly reconcile with, and it had consumed him.
And so she stayed, tethered to him by her love for him, hoping that soon his insecurities would ease and he would see that she was his, not because he demanded it, but because she chose it. But she was not sure how much she could take of this suffocating behavior. Of every move of hers and every interaction being heavily watched.
~
She rarely let her frustrations boil to the surface, but this time was different. As she sat across from her husband in their private chambers, the weight of the senator’s venomous words and their impact on her marriage gnawed at her patience. For days and days now, Geta’s suffocating possessiveness had taken over every aspect of her life, and she could no longer bear the thought that this rift between them had been instigated by a man seeking to undermine her, a man seeking to replace her.
She set down her goblet with a sharp clink, her hands trembling, not with fear, but with barely restrained annoyance and anger. “I’ve been thinking, my dear husband,” she began, her voice calm but carrying an obvious edge to it.
Geta glanced up from his seat, his brow furrowing slightly at her tone. “What is it?”
She met his gaze, her eyes blazing with uncharacteristic determination. “The senator who came to you with these baseless rumors. I believe he must be punished.”
Geta blinked, clearly surprised. “Punished? For what?”
“For daring to speak against me,” she replied, her voice firm, slightly exasperated that he did not already know what she spoke of. “For poisoning your mind with lies and causing this… this chaos between us. He sought to undermine your confidence in me, to cast doubt on my loyalty, to possibly destroy my reputation. That is not something we should let go unanswered.”
Geta leaned back in his chair, studying her intently. “You surprise me, wife. I thought you were above petty revenge. You have always counseled me against such rash decisions before”
“This is not petty, nor is it rash!” she shot back, her tone sharpening. “He sought to disgrace me, your wife, your empress. By doing so, he has disgraced you as well. How can you tolerate such audacity?”
Her words struck a nerve. Geta’s insecurities flared, his mind racing as he considered her argument. She was right. The senator’s insinuations had not only called his wife’s loyalty into question but had also implied that Geta was a weak ruler, unable to control his own household. The thought made his blood boil.
“What would you have me do?” he asked, his voice low.
“Demote him. Remove him from his position. Let it be known that you will not tolerate slander against your Empress.”
Geta narrowed his eyes. “And if others see this as an act of weakness? A sign that I am blinded by my love for you?”
“Let them see it as a warning,” she countered. “Let them know that your loyalty to your wife is unwavering and that you will not allow anyone to sow baseless discord in your court.”
Her words appealed to Geta’s pride, and she could see the gears turning in his mind. After a long silence, he nodded slowly. “Very well. The senator will be dealt with. I’ll ensure his removal will be public and soon.”
Relief washed over her, though a part of her felt dissatisfied about simply just having the senator removed from his position. The senator had meddled in her marriage, made her husband watch every move she made for days now, and he deserved to face more severe consequences for it. The senator has a daughter around her age, she felt certain the senator was likely hoping to get her pushed aside to potentially make way for his daughter to get close to Geta, for her to be the next Empress of Rome. Geta’s wife seethed silently at the thought of someone replacing her, of someone attempting to steal her position. She thought about paying Caracalla a visit and informing him of the treacherous senator in their midst. He would certainly give her the dramatic reaction she wants.
Geta rose from his seat, crossing the room to stand before her. He cupped her face in his hands, his gaze softening. “You are right. I should never have allowed his words to poison my mind. You are my empress, my wife. No one will come between us again”
She smiled faintly, leaning into his touch and calming for a moment. “And I will always stand by your side Geta. But we must stand together, against anyone who seeks to divide us.”
Geta kissed her then, fierce and possessive, as if to reaffirm their bond. She let herself melt into the embrace, even as a small voice in the back of her mind wondered if she should push for more to be done about the senator.
~~~~
reader can't take out her frustrations on Geta so she will take it out on the senator who started all of this instead lol
Summary: you ask Joel for help while preparing for your upcoming date with another man. (or so it seems)
Tags: grumpy x sunshine, idiots in love, sweet sweet fluff, age gap, a drop of angst, peepaw is insecure abt his age :(, Jackson era, Joel is kind of slow but it's okay we still love him (pookie doesn't realize how hot he is), me dancing around the smut like i'm a fucking circus acrobat
Word count: 4K
A/N: sooo very long time no see 🙈 ever since the start of 2025 i'm telling myself to get back into writing but it still felt like a chore lol. but i REALLY wanted to finish this fic before tlou s2 drops so here it is!!! i'm really proud of how it turned out and i hope to write more in the near future. love you all so so much and as always, happy reading!! 💕
dividers by @saradika 🩷
Joel Miller didn't have friends.
He had a couple of buddies before the outbreak with whom he used to watch the game sometimes, but nothing more than that. Tommy didn't count, of course, because he was his brother and therefore had to be nice to him. The only other person who could put up with him was Ellie, but the kid was… a kid. As for the other people in Jackson, they were wise to keep their distance from Joel, not wanting to hang around a shadow of a man such as him.
He didn't mind. He liked the peace and quiet, and it didn't bother him one bit that everyone seemed to give him a wide berth, whispering about the danger that he was.
Well, almost everyone avoided him. You, the exact person that should stay far away from a man like Joel Miller, gravitated to him with an almost effortless ease. Even amongst all the hopeful people that created Jackson, you were the purest, brightest ray of sunshine, always helpful and compassionate towards anyone who came your way. And even though Joel wasn't exactly welcoming to you in the beginning, you never gave up and persisted – and eventually, befriended him.
And ever since the first time you spoke to him, he didn't stand a chance. You were young and pretty, and so charming with your innocent optimism… Before Joel realized, he was fantasizing about you during the lonely evenings, dreaming of your voice late in the night, and looking for you in the crowd when he was out of the house.
He was way too old to feel this kind of way, and every now and then it felt like he was balancing on a tightrope between being stupid and borderline creepy. Such a sweet girl like you wouldn't look twice at an old man like him if she knew the things that sometimes ran through his mind when he was seeing other men flirting with you, seeking the same warm light that Joel grew addicted to.
That was the poison mixed with your sweetness – even though it was irrational, with you everything seemed easier than it was.
…even falling in love.
And fall Joel Miller did. It was an embarrassing, tainted experience, especially when he remembered how much older than you he was. But he couldn't help it, and once this burning want became clear to him, he didn't really want to fight it, either.
You were everything he should stay far away from – young, pretty and so bright with your smiles, your hope, your innocence. A sinner like Joel Miller had no place in your life, and yet he couldn't muster the courage to let you go. It was selfish of him, he knew, but spending time in your company was one of the few brightsides of his life… and he didn't have many of those, lately. He genuinely enjoyed being near you – a lot more than he probably should.
That's why, when he noticed you skipping his way with a bright smile splattered across your cheeks, he felt his heart instantly lighten. It was a hard day of work at the construction site and he was relieved to finally be heading home, but just the sight of you made the weariness disappear from within his bones.
“Joel! Hi!” Something must have stirred you quite strongly, for you were practically bouncing with excitement. The words were spilling out of your mouth before he even had a chance to say hello. “I need your help, right now. Please.”
“Slow down, darlin’,” he chuckled, letting you drag him by the arm to a wall of the nearest building and away from the crowd. “You alrigh’?”
“Yeah, yes, of course.” You waved to someone passing by, totally unfazed – or maybe just ignorant – that you were being seen with him in public. “I just need your help.”
“Well, what is it?” he repeated the question and finally, you turned to face him. Joel couldn't help but match the pretty smile on your face, but it quickly faded when you blurted out your next words.
“I like someone.”
That short, simple sentence wrecked Joel’s world by the foundations. For a couple of seconds he just stared at you with his mouth slightly agape while you fidgeted with your hands nervously, but still overjoyed.
“Wh– uhh, sorry?”
“I like someone,” you repeated excitedly, as if your words weren't piercing right through Joel's heart. “And I need your help.”
All of the sudden, the world lost all its colors, as if all the meaning was sucked out of the universe just by your words.
Why it was such a surprise to him, Joel didn't know. Of course you'd sooner or later get together with someone. He should have expected it. You were young, pretty and such a joy to be around, people were gravitating towards you instinctively. Like moths to a flame.
Just like him – yet he was always destined to only get burned.
“Joel?”
You leaned closer and Joel's eyes instinctively focused on your lower lip worried between your teeth. You were obviously oblivious to his feelings, as well as the effect you had on him – otherwise he doubted you'd tempt him like that, unknowingly making his mind fixate on how perfect your lips would have felt under his touch.
But no, it wasn't his caresses you wanted. There was someone else, someone far more deserving of you, and you were asking Joel only for his help. And though it hurt him – it killed him to lose this small sliver of affection you had been giving him so far – he nodded supportingly.
“Wha… what do you need help with, sweet girl?” he asked softly, trying not to show how devastated he felt inside. Joel had no desire to hear about whoever was fortunate enough to gain your favor, but again, luck wasn't on his side.
“I made a plan to meet him,” you explained enthusiastically, grabbing his forearm. Joel looked at where your fingers touched his skin, barely listening to your words. “Tonight. And I need you to come with me.”
That woke him up from his reverie. Joel huffed and shook his head sharply, looking at you like you were out of your mind.
“No.” His tone was almost biting, but through his firm refusal, a trace of panic was slipping through. You pouted, squeezing his forearm lightly.
“Oh, come on, please? I just want to make sure everything’s perfect.”
“No,” Joel repeated, much weaker this time. “Hell no. Why would I–” Then, a dark thought bloomed in his mind and his face turned concerned. “You're worried he'd do somethin’ to you?”
“Oh, no, no!” It was your turn to shake your head, and you actually cracked a smile at Joel's worried tone. “No, he'd never hurt me.”
Your voice got softer; your smile turned serene. Joel wanted nothing more than to turn away when your eyes started to wander across his features, but again that proved to be too herculean of a task compared to the hold you had over him.
“He's kind,” you continued absentmindedly, and on the edge of consciousness Joel remembered your hand was still on his arm, tracing small lines with your thumb. “Respectful and thoughtful… A real gentleman.”
“A-and who’s he?” Joel found the courage to ask, breaking you out of your daydreams. You smiled happily again – that damned, sweet smile of yours – and removed your hand. He immediately started missing the feeling of your touch.
“You'll see.” You looked over your shoulder when someone shouted your name a street away, and waved from the distance. You gave Joel one last pleading look, clasping your hands together. “Come to the Tipsy Bison at 9. Please? You can just sit in the corner but I'll feel so much better and safer with you there.”
Once Joel looked into your beautiful, pleading eyes, he was a goner. He never could deny you anything either way.
Even when he would kill for a chance to go on a real date with you.
“Okay,” he finally caved in. “Alrigh’. I'll be there.”
The overjoyed smile you gave him was almost enough to soothe the hollow pain in his chest.
Almost.
Great. Fucking great.
Joel made another turn around the street, trying to build up the courage to approach Tipsy Bison. The flannel shirt he wore was itching uncomfortably, but he was already half an hour late and there was no time to go back home and change.
He regretted ever setting foot in Jackson. It was a nightmare situation for him, having to spend the evening in a room full of loud, drunk people and watch as you go about your date with another man. Joel thought a dozen times about making up some excuse as to why he can't chaperone your date after all. He even went as far as to beg Tommy to accompany him, just that he wouldn’t have to suffer alone, but his younger brother just gave him a pitying look, saying something about spending time with Maria tonight. Joel could always cancel, lie that he can’t make it after all… but then he remembered how hopeful and thankful you looked, and all his resolve was wavering again. He couldn't ever say no to you, even though he desperately wanted to.
He looked at his broken watch, sighing at the hour. He delayed the inevitable long enough, so with heavy steps he approached the bar at last. You asked him to go through the back door, for whatever reason, and he was too tired at the time to point out there’s nothing back there except for the kitchen and storage rooms. Whatever. You probably were already in the main hall, with your date, and either you were angry at Joel for being late, or not thinking about him at all. He wasn’t sure which one would be worse.
Once he stepped over the threshold, he carefully closed the door behind him. The racket from the bar was muffled here, but from the nearest room he could hear someone muttering. Joel swallowed heavily and cleared his throat to alert whoever was on the other side of the wall.
“Joel?” he heard your voice before you appeared in the doorway. At the sight of him your shoulders dropped and with confusion he noted that you didn’t look angry or disappointed – you seemed relieved. “Goddammit, finally you’re here. You took your sweet time, huh?”
Before he could answer, you walked forward and took his sleeve, half-dragging him behind you. Words of protest bubbled on his tongue, but they all died quickly when Joel saw the room you emerged from.
The storage shelves were decorated with fairy lights and in the middle of the room stood a small table with two chairs opposite each other. The only other source of light were a couple of candles on the table and around the room. There was food on the table – probably cold by now – and a bottle of wine. But most importantly – there was no one else in the room except for Joel and you.
While he was looking around like an absolute fool, searching for an explanation for this situation, you cautiously closed the door and walked around the man, coming to a stop by the set table with your hands clasped in front of you.
“...Well?” you asked after an uncomfortably long silence, letting out a nervous laugh. “What do you think?”
Joel blinked, not sure if you were talking to him.
“Where's the guy?”
You threw him a confused look, but truly, it was the only thing Joel could think of. He glanced around the room again, as if his mysterious competition was going to jump up from behind one of the shelves, but there was no trace of anyone else here.
“Your… your date,” he clarified after a moment and cleared his throat once more. A spark of understanding flashed in your eyes and you pressed your lips together. “It's late. Is he… He didn't set you up, did he?”
“That depends,” you finally answered softly, keeping your wary but hopeful eyes on him. “Are you finally gonna sit down?”
A cog clicked into its place in Joel's mind and he turned his head, not sure if he had heard you right. You smiled nervously and motioned to the table.
“The food’s probably cold by now, but I can heat it up. It’s your own fault, though, since I asked you to be here forty minutes ago–”
“I don’t…”
He didn’t understand. Nothing made sense, but he had to make sure, “So there’s no… there’s no date?”
You were clearly nervous, judging by the way you were fidgeting with your hands, but you sent him a shy smile nonetheless. “I mean, you’re here…”
Joel didn’t answer – frankly, he didn’t know what to say. So many conflicted emotions were swirling in his chest, blocking his throat from squeezing out even a sound. It created almost a physical pain between his ribs, especially when your eyes were still on him, so hopeful and patient.
After another pregnant pause, you let out a quiet breath and took a step forward, throwing him a lifeline since he clearly must’ve looked like an idiot. “There’s no one else coming, if that’s what you’re asking. I made all of this for you – for… us, maybe. I just…” You half-shrugged, and only now Joel realized how nice you looked, wearing a dress he never before saw you in, “didn’t know how to tell you.”
Joel swept his gaze over the room once more – the dinner, the lights, your pretty dress… and you. And it was all for him, apparently.
“Why?” he breathed, the weight of his age almost making him collapse to his knees. He desperately wanted to say something more profound than one word at the time, but his voice was failing him. Thankfully, you were always kind enough to fill in the silence.
“Why did I lie to you or why did I drag you here of all places?” You rounded the table, eyeing the decorations with a proud smile. “Well–”
“No, darlin’, why…” He shook his head. Everything felt too unreal, too sudden. And he felt so tired. “Why me?”
That made you pause and you turned to him with a surprised look, like what he just said was the last thing you expected to hear.
“What do you mean, why you?” you huffed incredulously, leaning forward against the back of the chair, and though you tried to look casual, the nervousness in the tension of your body was apparent. “You’re just… I mean, it must be pretty clear that I really like you… And I thought you might have felt the same. You know, with all the ‘darling’s’ and looking at me, and stuff…”
Was it a dream? You always looked like you were out of a dream, but something about this moment… the fairy lights, your shy demeanor, the words he never thought he’d hear from you… Joel didn't know if he was still alive or maybe that's what the afterlife looked like.
“...You could say something,” you half-joked with a trace of worry in your voice, obviously growing uncomfortable at his lack of reaction. “You know, Tommy only let me have this place ‘til midnight before they come by to restock the bar. We can at least eat and talk a little, right?”
“Did Tommy put you up to this?” Joel asked bitterly, unable to stop himself at the mention of his brother’s name. He recalled the look Tommy gave him earlier today, his excuses as to why he can’t come with him... What other explanation could there be for such a gorgeous, young woman to be interested in Joel of all people, if it wasn’t just a product of his kin’s poor humor? However, he instantly regretted asking you this when your soft smile disappeared altogether, and you wrapped your arms around yourself.
“You can just say if you don’t feel the same way,” you said dryly with an angry and hurt furrow on your brow. “No need to be a dick about it.”
You walked by him, apparently done with Joel’s accusations and grumpiness, but he quickly caught your arm before he could think better of it. You spun around, probably ready to tear into him, but he wouldn't hear a word either way – no while a vortex of doubts and questions raged in his mind. Joel didn’t know how or why you’d ever take interest in an old man like him, but he was now certain of two things.
One, you were telling the truth. For whatever reason, you really liked him – enough to plan and prepare a whole dinner date just for him.
And two, if Joel let you walk out now, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.
You must’ve noticed the change on his face when his eyes flickered to your lips because you froze, the words of hurt and disappointment drying out on your tongue. Joel swallowed and wet his lips, looking for any sign of hesitation or regret on your face, but there was nothing in your eyes but pure, fragile anticipation. He delicately put his hand on the side of your face, the rough pad of his thumb brushing your cheek slowly. Your eyelashes fluttered closed and you let out a shaky breath, and that was all it took for Joel to lean down and press his lips to yours.
The kiss started delicate, but almost immediately turned into a fervent, hungry thing, which you ardently reciprocated. Joel wanted to take his time, to test the waters and build up the anticipation until you were ready to beg for him, but he didn’t expect just how fucking good kissing you would feel – and how eager you were for his touch. The smell of you, the feel of your hands on his chest and arms… it was driving him crazy with want, and without thinking twice, he spun you around and pinned your back against the edge of the table, making you whimper into his mouth.
“Goddammit, baby…” The term of endearment slipped out before he realized it, but judging by your reaction you didn’t mind at all. Your breath hitched, making him smirk to himself as he started to realize just how much power he held over you. It certainly shouldn’t excite him as much as it did. “Are you absolutely sure that’s what you want?”
“Joel, if you don’t stop questioning me…” you started, and although your words were firm, your voice leaned into a deliciously needy pitch, the kind of which he yearned to hear for far too long. Joel groaned into your mouth, moving down to press hot kisses against the line of your jaw and down your neck, greedily drinking in the noises you were making.
“Tell me, darlin’,” he asked in a low voice, experimentally running his palm up your thigh under the pretty dress you wore. The effect was immediate, and you pressed your body closer to him, seeking his touch the moment it left your skin. “I need to know if you really mean all this.”
“For fuck’s sake, Joel–” You made a surprised noise as he hoisted you up and onto the table, but it turned into another needy whimper when he knocked your knees apart and slotted himself between them with ease. You glanced behind you, worried that you'll push the silverware off the table, and Joel took this moment to resume the onslaught on your neck, kissing and sucking every inch of skin he could reach. You choke back a moan as his touch made a shiver run up your spine. “Joel, please…”
“I need to hear it, sweetheart,” he murmured lowly against your skin, slowing down to tease you when he felt your heartbeat quicken up beneath his lips. “Need to make sure you know what you're gettin’ into.”
“I do, I promise,” you assured him fervently while your hands went to the back of his head, fingers tangling into his gray locks. “You have no idea how many times I thought about this. I wanted you for so long, Joel, please…”
“Wanted you, too, darlin’.” He put one of his hands on the small of your back, pulling your lower half closer to the edge of the table so you could feel what you were doing to him. “God, every time you smiled at me it was all I could think about… So kind and beautiful, never thought you'd look twice my way.”
You didn't bother to answer this time, instead angling his head up to kiss him deeply again. The doubt and fear were still present in Joel's mind, but he honestly couldn't focus on them with you in front of him. You were so warm under his palms, so pliant and eager, a literal putty in his steady hands. He could never imagine how incredible it felt to be wanted by someone so much, but at the same time he knew he had to take his time. As much as he wanted to keep going, to make you see stars and sing his name, it was more than just lust with you.
So when you reached for the buttons of his shirt, he gently grabbed your wrists and moved them away, finally regaining his self-control. You whined disapprovingly, but the crease between your brows quickly disappeared when Joel kissed your fingers softly, not taking his eyes off you.
“Shh, sweetheart, don’t rush,” he cood, earning a small disappointed pout. He had to close his eyes, lest he caved in. Fuck, the sight of you before him – your pupils blown wide, lips swollen from his ministrations, your heavy breath and the dress bunched around your hips… Joel was sure you’d let him do anything to you right now. And God, he couldn’t wait. “Let me do this properly, yeah? Have a nice date with you, then maybe take you home if you don’t change your mind…”
“We can skip the dinner,” you quietly offered, your breath still uneven and cheeks flushed. He huffed a laugh with fondness and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead, his own breathing also slightly erratic.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured against your skin before taking your face in his hands. “Someone did say I’m a gentleman, no?”
You seemed to regret your previous choice of words, accentuating it with a disappointed whimper and a buck of your hips. Joel groaned and kissed you deeply again, almost able to taste all the impatience and desire on your tongue. Surprisingly, you didn’t fight him further and instead obediently slid off the table, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck to be as close to him as possible.
Joel was grateful for this moment of calm before even more excitement – and he didn’t mind spending it by watching you, standing so close and smiling up at him as brightly as the sun itself.
“You believe me now?” you asked teasingly, stifling your giggles when Joel rolled his eyes playfully. “Good. You will have to make it up to me, then.”
Worry crept back onto Joel’s face, but you were quick to calm him down with a tender kiss to his jaw, and then another one lower, on his pulse point. “You were late. If you got here on time, we could’ve been doing this at least half an hour longer.”
Joel chuckled and lifted your chin with his finger, before kissing you briefly one last time.
“Baby, let’s enjoy the dinner you prepared, first. After that, I swear I’ll make it up to you in however many ways you want.”
Judging by your smile, you didn’t seem to mind at all.
Summary: Hannibal Lecter and his pretend daughter. Saintess "Mischa" Ivanova.
Warnings: Sensitive Topics, Obsession, Infatuation, Child Neglection. Not proofread.
Hannah Dodd | Partially inspired by Flowers in the Attic: The Origin.
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"Oh Sweet Saintess, my sweet little angel. You were my salvation from all of this darkness."
Saintess Ivanova was left abandoned by her parents. At least that was said to her. He seemed to know everything about her. In fact she trusted him with her life. But then again, the truth is very different from what she was told.
She only knew he cared for her and wanted her happiness. That much she understood. After all, how could such a man who looked like a Greek statue do any kind of harm to her?
Saintess' parents were former aquaintance with the Hannibal Lecter. Hannibal grew infatuation with Honesty Hawthorne, Saintess' mother. It was the first time Hannibal felt something for someone and it made him feel alive.
Hannibal and Honesty were inseparable since childhood. They knew everything about eachothers darkest and deepest secret. Even though neither one really liked eachother in the beginning. It was a friendship forged through hardship, pain, and suffering.
Honesty knew about Mischa and after learning how they treated the two of them, Hannibal vowed to protect Honesty after what happened to her sister.
Honesty will never leave Hannibal, no matter how hard it may be for her to endure. Because she knows Hannibal is her saving grace.
She would rather die than betray his trust. Hannibal saved her from those evil men, preventing what happened to Mischa from happen to her.
Honesty simply owes Hannibal her life. "Why did you save me?" She asked while looking at him with hopeful eyes.
Young Hannibal looked at her and smiled softly, "Because... I care about you."
Then Malcolm Ivanova, a Handsome Russian man met Honesty Hawthorne.
They have been together ever since. Hannibal on the other hand kept his promise and took good care of Honesty. He also helped her find herself and helped her build her self up. Honesty loved Malcolm, which Hannibal couldn't care less.
Two years has passed, Malcolm proposed to Honesty and she accepted him gladly. The newlyweds then moved to Moscow, Russia while Honesty is expecting a child of their own. A beautiful baby girl.
The little girl has beautiful long blonde hair. She looked just like Honesty, Hannibal thought. Honesty Ivanova named her Saintess as she looks like a saint, an angel dropped from heaven.
When Saintess was a year old, Hannibal started taking care of her. He wanted her to be spoiled and loveable like she is his own daughter. And so he became an angel himself by spoiling her rotten. He loved it. The way she smiles and laugh. The way her eyes sparkle when she sees Hannibal, like she can see straight through to the soul of him. It made him feel whole inside.
She looks so much more like Honesty as she reached 2 years old. He had to remind himself that everytime he sees her. He couldn't let himself get too attached.
Of course, Hannibal's hidden dirty tactics didn't stop. He killed and consumed people. Sometimes innocently and sometimes intentionally.
The Man-eater is what he was known throughout Russia. Occasionally, as the Deathstroke and the Walking Death Plague.
It amuses Hannibal how some people called him names such as Deathbringer and Vile Ghost. He doesn't care. He want those words to come out of their mouths anyway. It only made him feel better.
People are only scared of things they cannot control. Like death.
───────────────────
It was December 25th, the snow was piling up outside. While Hannibal just came back from a killing spree. Some stupid woman tried to cross his path. Of course, he didn't waste any effort to kill. Her throat opened up like a gaping black hole and died screaming without a voice box.
Hannibal prepared dinner consisting of his recent kill and planned to give Honesty's family. When he saw a familiar figure standing in front of the door of the dining hall. His little angel princess.
Little Sweet Saintess stood there looking around and admiring the place before she spotted him. With a big smile, Saintess waved happily at him. Hannibal waved back as he walked over to her. He kneeled down in front of her. She still wore her red hat, scarf, and jacket as the temperature outside was below zero.
Hannibal caressed her cheek as he dusted snow off her clothes, "What brings you here my Sweet Saintess?"
"My papa dropped me off here, silly papa," she giggled cutely, causing Hannibal to grin. Hannibal knew Honesty and Malcolm are arguing right now, but he couldn't care less once again.
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "How can your papa leave you here, hm? Did the maidservant somewhat assist you?" Hannibal asked concerned.
"Yep! Dear papa said I'm going to sleep here for the entire night, with you! " She pouted cutely.
"In any chance did you forget that It's your birthday today?" Hannibal asked. "I did!" She exclaimed loudly. "I forgot!"
"Don't worry sweetheart. We'll make sure to celebrate with your favorite, chocolate cake," Hannibal reassured.
"Really?" Saintess asked hopefully. Hannib knew how much she loves sweets. Especially chocolate cake.
Hannibal nodded, "Of course we will. Let us go eat dinner, I have made your favorite."
Hannibal stood up and grabbed Saintess' hand. He led her into the dining hall and sat her on her chair. "You wait here my Little Saintess." Hannibal said before leaving.
The young girl nodded and smiled brightly at him. She loves him so much and he loves her too.
"С Днем рожденья тебя! с днём рождения, с днём рождения, с днём рождения тебя!" Hannibal sang as he placed four candles into the cake.
"You're old man," Saintess muttered randomly. Hannibal chuckled and ignored her, "I'm only two years older than your mother, Saintess."
"Mhm," she said, not believing it. "Mama said she is this number..." She trailed off. Saintess raised her hands into the numbers two. "And you think she's old?" Hannibal asked mockingly, amused of their conversation.
Honesty decided to visit Hannibal without him knowing. The castle was deserted and dark. "Hello?" she called out in a quiet voice. No answer. She sighed and began walking towards the stairs, which led directly to the second floor where it felt more like home.
That is until Honesty began to smell a faint smell of rotting flesh coming from the basement.
"You could have turned a blind eye, Honesty." Hannibal said. "After what you've done to my husband?! It was you!!" Honesty shouted angrily.
Hannibal laughed maniacally. "With what he has done with Saintess? Your little angel? He abused and neglected her. I did what must be done."
"What must be done? Killing him? Feeding his remains to my daughter and I? Is that what you mean?" She shouted back.
The look in Hannibal's face showed that he was enjoying Honesty's reaction. Hannibal didn't speak. Instead, he slowly raised his left arm to reveal a knife in his palm.
"That's enough of your nonsense. You don't need to continue talking." He said coldly. Hannibal approached Honesty slowly as he plunged the knife into her heart and stomach as much as she tried to get away.
Honesty cried out as blood gushed out of the wound.
"Do you know why I saved you? Why I protected you from those men who tried to hurt you alongside my sister? Because you remind me of her..." Hannibal whispered gently as he placed his finger underneath her chin and tilt her head up to face him.
"You remind me of my sweet sister Mischa and now my sweet Saintess reminds me of her. Now, rest."
destiny, reborn rich (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/329983295-destiny-reborn-rich?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=hywienn&wp_originator=8h5PwJ273ouNJ20%2B10WJBm3jUSHfALsHixBnrk81djuDGrXTPld17u0CwHvEuoskmkEf7sTuKjdm8MP1zeetNLXIQr3cAGuoaXAjLFQD86DoCl%2FwMFUjqF59gYVbmWX1 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 Jin Min-ji, the eldest granddaughter of Jin Yang Cheol destined for the throne finds herself fighting for it. [Reborn Rich x fem!oc] Reborn Rich K-drama, 2022 All Right Reserved @hywienn
destiny, reborn rich - 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊 (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1300437059-destiny-reborn-rich-%F0%9D%96%99%F0%9D%96%8D%F0%9D%96%97%F0%9D%96%8A%F0%9D%96%8A?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=hywienn&wp_originator=aC5Z6rN8yXbkvmtFNGsxRyKus6FmKrbBUhgNyYukdyCQBkNpyDq3OX3vhx5KZSLRfgYHwHBdVpKukJQvfxw1Y6hQ7mFfpHQojkjM%2BnUbL%2FGGoGzLucep31Re8gbsTG3Q 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 Jin Min-ji, the eldest granddaughter of Jin Yang Cheol destined for the throne finds herself fighting for it. [Reborn Rich x fem!oc] Reborn Rich K-drama, 2022 All Right Reserved @hywienn
destiny, reborn rich (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/329983295-destiny-reborn-rich?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=hywienn&wp_originator=Pxumv%2BU37W8zkWue3OW8NVFiNgnoC8mRqCjHTYcZSMRJExLx0KtytphsFghU87byMRxtghBfvITT7tMT%2BmYkAvk1oxKLodRbp82C4kJQKc2xzJWb1RJ4sJLn6hTdwVUW 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 Jin Min-ji, the eldest granddaughter of Jin Yang Cheol destined for the throne finds herself fighting for it. [Reborn Rich x fem!oc] Reborn Rich K-drama, 2022 All Right Reserved @hywienn
