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bangarangdarling · 11 months

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blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so

Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.

Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.

Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.

Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go.

Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe.

Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.

Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling.

Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo.

It was the proverbial straw.

“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”

Nothing.

“HEY!”

He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead.

Silence rang for a beat.

Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range.

The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him. “Geez, need attention much?”

Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?”

Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.”

It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.

But, see. That just gave him an idea.

Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all.

“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,”

He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude.

“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly.

“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”

It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up.

“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified. “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.

“Yeah?”

“Can you come here?”

The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.

“You tired?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine--”

“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm.

There was a countdown, three, two, one...

A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs. “Dude, what the hell?”

“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”

“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?”

Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth.

“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?”

Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.

“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.

God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking.

Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.”

Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move.

“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,” Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them.

“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”

“Dude, Eddie, noooo!”

“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.”

“You guys, let’s just go already,”

“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,”

The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together.

It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.

What can he say? He’s a weak man.

“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in.

“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.”

A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that.

The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!”

The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly.

#Listen this is cheesy and poorly written but i HAD to #go find that tik tok because it was hilarious but also radiated love and healthy parenting #they called it 'gentle parenting with malicious intent' looooool #steddie #the party #my brain vomit

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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

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Tim had forgotten, in his one man (and the admittedly liberal usage of hired guns) crusade at everything that had hurt his family, that he was technically a child. A time traveling 21 year old Tim Drake in his younger body, sure, but he’s still a nine year old child.

Tim was violently, unpleasantly reminded of this as he opened his front door to… Gotham Primary’s truancy officer.

Oh shit. He still had to go to school. Tim scrambled for an excuse.

“Hello, Timothy. Are your parents home?”

“Uh- no, sir. Only my nanny. I’ve been really,” think, Timothy, think! Are you Red Robin for nothing? “really sick. She went out for some medicine.”

Tim knew what the officer saw as he looked down at him, a pale, drawn little boy who looked like a sickly Victorian child. He has no idea that Tim had the beginnings of lean muscles and strong grip strength underneath his baggy clothes.

“I see. I’ll have to talk to your nanny, then. We need to be informed of when you’re ill, Timothy.”

“Oh. She-” shit, shit, shit! “Doesn’t speak English.” Was that racist? That felt racist. Gods, he probably sounds like a snobby classist elite. “I’ll let my mom know to email you, sir?”

The truancy officer sighed. By Tim’s lucky stars, he agreed. The man pulled out a singular paper from his plastic folder, clearly used to this kind of thing, especially from the elites of Gotham, and said, “Email the school. And have her sign this note, please.”

Tim nodded seriously. Like hell he would.

When the officer was gone, Tim closed the gate immediately. He had forgotten to close it after getting back home from stalking the Bats last night. Well, Bat, singular, because Jason was still benched.

Tim sighed, grabbing a pen to fluidly forge Janet Drake’s signature on his paper about truancy and proper procedures and what not. Then, he moved to the computer, easily stealing his mother’s credentials, emailing the school about his sick leave, and their decision to have him home schooled.

He’d miss Ives, but honestly, Tim needed the free time. Plus, maybe this way, he’ll graduate high school this time around. He drafted another email to the counselor, asking them what kind of curriculum and tests he needed to pass to obtain future degrees and what not.

He gets an email back, with all of the testing required and the steps “Young Timothy” should take in order to succeed in the rest of his academic career. Tim would like to point out he’s nine, and that this was pretentious. Helpful, sure, but pretentious all the same.

“That’s what people don’t mention about time traveling. It’s all fun and games until you get hit with the mundane and tedious things.” Tim muttered, setting up his appointments for testing. He’ll have to find someone to drive him to the tests…

His mind turned to his neighbors… hm. That’s a possibility.

Tim wiped all traces of his activities from his mother’s email, doing a quick and hidden bit of rerouting to get any educational emails regarding him sent to his own inbox.

Tim swigged a mouthful of coffee and continued on his merry way.

His new goal?

Find Cassandra Cain.

#Tim drake #Timothy drake #Batman #red Robin #time traveling tim drake #time travel fix it #scheming tim drake #Tim drake vs truancy officer #listen I went to a private school #they legit called me ‘young’ in an email to my mother #Tim drake vs the education system #Tim Drake and his mortal enemy: school #tim: I will never finish high school

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ew-selfish-art · 7 months

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Dp x DC AU: Danny didn't want to rely on his rogues, but Tucker's computer skills only got them so far and if the media black out continues... Danny knows it's not going to be pretty for them. Nightmares begin to plague the Justice League.

---

Danny gets back from a shitty conversation with Clockwork and in his frustration, accidentally sets off one of the new GIW sensors that his parents allowed to be installed in the lab. Their collaboration seemed to be going no where but when Danny had new holes blasted through him... it must be going somewhere. Damn it.

The commotion is loud enough that Jazz hears it from her room above the lab (he knows she listens to more than just the lab... it's cause she cares, even if it is a bit invasive.) and rushes in to play the distraction while Danny gets away. This time it works- the Drs. Fenton might have the worst aim in the city but they demand all shots cease if a civilian is nearby- Next time his mom might be aiming her gun at him and not the ground. Danny decides he'll buy Jazz a coffee on his way home.

But first, new holes. Yikes. That like, needs medical attention- He heads to Tucker's place and he's pretty sure Sam is already there.

"Danny! What the fuck, did Clockwork-" She starts, her meticulous cat eyeliner making her glare all the deeper.

"Nah, it's the stupid GIW sensor, the stupid one I told you guys about that has a spring lose in the back?"

"I thought we decided those weren't a concern?" Tucker looks him over, face covered in undisguised and very blatant concern.

"Yeah well, Clocky pissed me off so I forgot about them when I came back in through the lab portal-"

"you were supposed to be practicing making your own." Sam interrupts.

"-And when I did, the thing got knocked and I was swatted like immediately. Jazz launched herself into the lab so Mom made them stop shooting and it gave me enough time to get out." Danny continued to explain, ignoring his friend's 'i told you so' faces.

"Dude. We're pushing it close this week. Sam already had a confrontation with the lab guys and I already got blacklisted on my new persona accounts. We're like seriously threading the needle for getting caught." Tucker, pulls his glasses down to pinch the bridge of his nose and Danny and Sam both get what he's really saying. They need to lie low.

"What did CW say to piss you off?" Sam asks after a silent moment.

"He said nothing really, just like he always does, but insinuated I should try getting a rogue to help." Danny sighs.

"What, Like getting Ember to announce the GIW invasion on her tour? We already agreed that-" Sam is getting angry as she speaks so Tuck cuts her off- "It's a bad Idea. She is- They are all just as likely to get captured and hurt as you are if you go out of town." He comes to the same conclusion they've agreed on for weeks. No rogue involvement.

"Maybe we just need to sleep on it... Hey... wait." Danny sighs, but then his gears start to turn.

"Nocturn. We need Nocturn to help us. He can get the message out through dreams." Danny comes to the new conclusion and his friends look hesitant but at least like they're considering it.

"Isn't he an ancient? He's not going to help us for free." Tucker, ever the Egyptian god in these moments.

"Most people don't take their dreams literally." Sam, ever the skeptic in these moments.

"Yeah but, if they dream it enough times, and they're the right people to do something... they can look it up and then at least see that there is a problem?" Danny sounds hopeful and its the first time he's sounded that way in months.

"What, you're gunna give Batman nightmares?" Tucker snickers but Sam looks inspired.

"That's exactly what he's going to do. We need to haunt the Justice League. They'll see past the fake facade the GIW put up online and they'll be able to get the right legislation passed." Sam is practically buzzing.

"Okay, so lets get scheming- What do you get the primordial beast of the unconscious? Should I google 'what to get someone who has everything'? " Danny laughs.

_____

Bruce and his children rarely do feelings when they have breakfast in the morning after a night of separate patrols, but it seems as though the room is plagued with unease. Tim looks about as tired as ever, so his unease is probably attributable to WE board meetings, but its unlike the rest of his children to be so... disturbed. For some reason, after Alfred has excused them all from eating more than a few nibbles, they make it to the cave. Bruce is glad for the noise his children bring.

The nightmare's he's been having are following a dark plot. A town, a boy who looks like he was kin, and so, so much death. Bruce has had vivid dreams before in life, but this nightmare is... unreal. He tries to remind himself that it's just a nightmare.

When his JL emergency communicator goes off at the computer desk, he's not expecting it to be Dinah Lance. She and her Birds are typically wary of him in Gotham, even if they work well together in the League. He answers it like he would any Batman call, with silence.

"Bats, we have a problem. Any chance you've been having weird dreams about a kid getting experimented on or a town being burned down? Ghosts? Lazarus portals?" Dinah sounds exhausted, but Bruce snaps to her voice with rapt attention. As do all of his children.

"I-" Bruce takes a look around the room, everyone's heads except for Tim's nodding up and down with distress," We all have."

"Something tells me that they whole JL is. Everyone I've talked to this week has had a variation of the same dream. We either have a telepath trying to tell us something, or something even worse than that."

"I'll call emergency meeting, we need to collect details and try to determine the complete message."

"I'll send you what I've noted down so far, sans personal details of course, it's definitely in a town called Amity Park though. My client this morning saw the sign."

Batman grunts and the call ends. It's time to get to work.

----

When the Justice League finally arrives, the town is glowing, and everything feels like... sleep. smothering. snoring. smoking. smoldering.

And then, despite the exhaustion that echos within them, the trudge onwards. The noise of laser guns certainly wakes them up a bit.

#tim hasn't seen shit cause he never sleeps but he has the same energy level to get shit done #dc x dp crossover #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc crossover #dp crossover #long post #dinah lance #nocturn haunts the JL #its up to you to get angsty with the demand he made in exchange for helping team phantom #nocturn is such a fun villain concept but like he's an information outlet so...#Lots could go right or wrong with this plan #tim drake x sleep is something i'll never ship tho #fentons working with GIW could be as benign or evil as wanted #is jazz in peril after this??? PERHAPS

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charlie-lec-stories · 4 months

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Drama King // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: Already used to Max's shenanigans, Y/N finds out that Charles with the flu can be quite a challenge.

Warnings: None, this is fluff, fluff and even more fun. (Only one paragraph about homophobic Jos Verstappen)

Author’s Note: Gees, there's nothing worse than a guy with the flu. Also, there's a little introduction of Max and Y/N's parents and the relationship they have with their children. Rate: PG

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She was used to Max being a drama queen, after so many years being friends, she already knew how he could turn a minimal problem into a world-ending alarm. His computer froze for 5 seconds? It was probably broken. He couldn't find his phone? He probably lost it forever. He was hungry? He couldn't function until he ate. She had fun with that, because Max's little drama stunts were never something that came without a good laugh for her. She would watch him run around the room looking for his phone, or quickly throwing a tantrum when his computer'd go slower than he'd like it. Charles was a lot more composed, which was also funny because he was the one that go into serious trouble more often. He set his dinner on fire? It wasn't that bad, he's not afraid of fire. He's at the police station because he tried to jump the fence when he forgot his keys? Just a little inconvenience and he made new friends! He hurt his hand trying to fix the toaster he just broke? Well, he has a lot more blood in his body, nothing to worry about. Sometimes she wished that Charles would take the bizarre situations he got himself into a little more seriously.

But she takes that wish back, dear God, she takes that back.

It all started with winter break, they were off season and they had been together for a year now, their first anniversary on the 26th of December. Charles, who loved to spoil his partners, decided that they deserved a week for themselves, before they all had to part for New Year's celebrations with their respective families. Plus, they knew that Max was less than happy to have to spend the holiday with his father, so the idea of chilling together, somewhere away from the world was more than appealing. The Monegasque made a reservation at a very private cabin complex, where they could be alone in the middle of nowhere, in Germany. From the 25th at night all the way to the 31st at noon, they would turn off their phones and ignore the rest of the world. Max was more than happy for that, he needed to recharge batteries before facing his father, and Y/N knew that this little trip was perfect for her to sleep all the hours she missed that season. It was the perfect plan, and it went amazing. They relaxed in the woods, lit a bond-fire, swam on the lake, and the cabin even had a jacuzzi, which they used every day. But, when they finally went back to reality on the 31st, happy memories weren't the only thing that Charles brought back home with him.

"Tu es pâle, mon garçon". (You look pale, my boy). Pascale, Charle's mother, said when he arrived at her door for New Year's dinner.

"Je vais bien, ne t'inquiète pas, Maman". (I'm fine, don't worry, Mom). She wasn't convinced, and she was proven right when Charles started coughing in the middle of their meal. The poor man started his new year with a fever.

Arthur called Lando, who made up an excuse and called Max. The Red Bull driver was supposed to spend a week with his father, Jos, the two of them going on a "healing" trip to "help Max outgrow his queerness". The moment he got the call from Lando about "Sassy being sick", he canceled his plans with his father and flew back to Monaco. His father was more than displeased with that, and didn't believe a thing his son told him, but he decided to keep his thoughts to himself. He had an already difficult relationship with his father, coming out as having two partners and having to tell him that they were his rivals was not something he needed to do at the moment. Jos Verstappen hated Y/N with passion, and it was a mutual feeling. He believed that the girl wanted to distract Max on purpose, to take advantage of that on the races. He also believed that she was trying to get into Max's pants to "trap him" with a kid. But, he would rather have her as his daughter in law than a man. He had never been as mad as when he discovered that Max was bisexual, the idea of having his son dating another man was his worst nightmare. He made it his life goal to "cure" Max and his son knew that if his father ever knew that Max was skipping his trip with him for Charles, he would straight up force Max into an asylum. Jos disliked Charles the most, after Lewis Hamilton, so if he didn't like the idea of Max dating a man, he would probably lose it with the fact that he was dating Charles.

Max made it back to Monte Carlo on January 2nd, but he called Y/N to let her know that he could take care of Charles and she should enjoy her time with her family. She had a big one, and she didn't get to see them much, he didn't want her to miss that chance. He could deal with Charles for a week, how hard could it be? She thanked him and let him know that she could fly back if he ever needed her, but he assured her that they would be alright. At the airport, he was welcomed by Lando, who coincidentally came back home from England to prepare everything for his New Year's party, a tradition he started two years prior and that was the most awaited event of the grid. The brit offered Max a ride and, together, they made their way towards the apartment that Max shared with his partners. Lando lived just a block away and offered to help out if he and Charles needed anything. He also let Max know that Oscar, Alex and George were flying to Monaco on the 4th, to help him out with the party, so there were going to be some extra hands. Max felt grateful, even if his father was not there for him, he had his grid family that loved him for who he was.

"Charlie? I'm home!". He called out when he opened the door. Usually, Charles would drop whatever he was doing to greet him and ask about his day. He was an active listener and enjoyed asking people things, but this time he was greeted by the faint sound of a cough and the pets, Pete, Charles' golden retriever, and his two cats. He dropped everything he had in hand and quickly walked to the bedroom followed by Pete. "Hey, Poepie, how are you feeling?". (Sweetie),

"I think I'm dying". Max had to actively do an effort to suppress his laugh. Charles was on the bed, the blanket up to his neck and his voice was barely over a whisper, but he was definitely not dying.

"I think you're doing pretty well!". Max said with a smile and sat on the bed next to Charles, but he pushed Max away. Pete jumped on the bed.

"Don't get close!". He yelled as loud as he could and then coughed again. "You'll get sick too and this is a nightmare".

"Charlie, it's only the flu. I'm Dutch, I'm used to cold weather and never get sick". He placed his hand on Charles' forehead and noticed that his boyfriend was burning up. "Don't worry about me".

"At least you got away from your dad". Charles said as he did the best he could to sit up. Max helped him a bit.

"Yeah, your stuffy nose definitely saved me from that". Charles smiled, his eyes shining in a mix of sadness and fever. He hated Jos for everything he put Max through.

"I'm your knight in shining armor, even when I'm sick". Max laughed out loud and Charles followed, but started coughing again.

"Okay, Sir Charles, let's make you some tea to warm up that throat".

The first night was terrible, Max didn't sleep, not even one second, Charles turning around and whimpering all night, uncomfortable and bothered by the fever. He was cold and hot, all at the same time, so he was pulling at the sheets constantly. Max wanted nothing more than to go to sleep on the couch, but he couldn't leave Charles alone. He turned the Monegasque around and spooned him to keep him from moving too much. They slept through the morning hours, until the pets woke them up asking to be fed. Max got up at lunch time to feed them and make some soup for Charles. He had two big black spots under his eyes and every now and then, a yawn would escape his mouth. Y/N texted him, asking about Charles and how he spent the night. Max didn't want her to worry, so he told her that Charles slept like a baby. It wasn't exactly a lie, never specified which type of baby, he slept like a possessed baby. Charles' fever went down through the day, but he still felt like he didn't have any strength. The medication was doing its magic, but he was probably going to get a fever again at night. And Max was right, Charles' fever came back the second night, sentencing Max to another sleepless night.

"If I die, I leave my sim to Y/N and my underwear to you". Charles told him at 3 am as they were cuddling. Max snorted, almost offended.

"I'm the one taking care of you and I get the underwear while she gets the sim?". Charles looked up at him in the dark, his eyes narrowed. "Make your own soup tomorrow, traitor".

"My underwear it's all Ferrari!". Max already knew that. "It's really important to me. I don't know what you're complaining for".

"It's a good thing you're not dying". Max chuckled and they fell silent for a few minutes.

"If I die and you don't wear that underwear, I'm haunting your ass". And he knew that Charles meant every word.

On the 4th, Lando called Max to let him know that the boys had arrived and offered to stop by and help out a bit. Charles was in a good mood, after Max promised to use the Ferrari underwear if he died, meaning that the visit was a good way to keep up his good spirits. While they waited for their friends to arrive, Max called Y/N to give her an update. She scolded him for refusing to wear the Ferrari briefs, and then she thanked him again for taking care of Charles all on his own. She was convinced that it was an easy task, Max was the drama king after all, but she was grateful anyways. Max decided not to tell her how much of a pain in the ass Charles could be, he would rather have her believing everything was alright. He took Pete out for a quick walk and then went to feed his little demons again, Sassy and Jimmy already planning on eating Charles if he let another minute pass without feeding them. Lando arrived with Oscar, George and Alex, and they all ran to the bedroom to say hi to Charles, but he had a fever again, and what they found was anything but festive.

"You look like shit". Lando said without thinking, and Max hit the back of his head.

"You don't, Charlie". But the Monegasque was already mentally writing his will.

"It's okay, dying must be the only thing that doesn't look good on me". Max rolled his eyes.

"We should help you get better". Oscar added, willing to help. The other three looked at him with their noses scrunched.

"I think we're all more useful at a safe distance". Alex looked around the room as he made the comment, looking for a place he could sit down and not get too close to Charles.

"It's just the flu, stop acting like he's got a deadly disease". But they all ignored Max as Oscar organized them to cover all of Charles' needs.

"Alex, you'll make the food. George, you'll bring Jimmy and Sassy, since Pete's already here. Lando, you'll pick a movie. I will gather all the blankets I can find. And Max...". Oscar looked at him, unsure of what Max could do. "You'll comfort him, but please, keep it decent".

"I'm not doing that while you guys are here". Max said, annoyed.

"Just making sure!". Lando laughed as he remembered the situation in the hotel room.

Oscar's plan was kind of chaotic, as always. While Max laid on the bed with his sick boyfriend, he could hear Alex fighting with the kitchen, George chased the cats around the house and Oscar opened every closet in the apartment looking for blankets. To add to that, Lando just couldn't pick a movie, going through all the streaming platforms and genres. Charles still acted as if he was dying and even though Max loved every person in that house, he was too sleep deprived to tolerate the chaos. After an hour, George walked in with Sassy and Jimmy, his shirt covered in holes and wearing kitchen gloves. He placed the cats on top of Charles and they both snuggled on his chest, purring and relaxing against their Papa. Max looked at George worried, as the brit just kept a wary eye on the cats. He couldn't help but chuckle at the situation, Sassy and Jimmy were the most loving cats in the world, but they loved to drive people crazy. Alex brought to the room the worst soup Max had ever tasted, but Charles was so sick that he couldn't even taste anything, so it wasn't a problem. Oscar placed all the blankets on top of Charles and, even though Max thought Lando would never pick anything, he actually did, and they all sat in the room to watch it together. Charles was finally asleep after 30 minutes and Max had never felt more relieved.

Around 6 pm they all left and Max took the pets to their beds. Pete slept on a pretty fancy bed that Charles had brought for him, it had Ferrari's emblem all over it, still, the dog loved his Red Bull toy, no matter how many times Charles took it away from him. Max gave Pete the toy and the dog curled up on his bed, ready to sleep, hugging the toy. Jimmy and Sassy had high beds, ones that Max had attached to the wall so they could sleep as up high as possible. He told them to go to bed, in Dutch, since it was the only language they understood, and they both obeyed instantly. If there was something that Max loved about their pets was how well behaved they were, George might not agree with that, but that seemed like George-problem to Max. After everyone was on their beds, Max went back to his room and lied next to Charles, his little snores making Max smile. Maybe they could finally sleep for a few hours. But they didn't. Charles' fever came back and he started moving around again. At some point, Max even heard him crying.

"Charles, are you okay?". Max asked as he turned Charles around to look at him and see if he could find what was hurting. "Does anything hurt?".

"I don't know!". Charles said, already done with being sick. "I just feel like shit and I'm tired and my head hurts... and... and my throat is sore!". Charles complained in between sobs. "And my nose is so stuffed! I just want to feel better and do my things, like training and going out. And I miss Y/N too".

"Charlie, it's okay". Max tried to comfort him, ignoring his own tiredness as best as he could. "Be patient, you'll feel better soon. I promise".

But Charles kept turning around all night again, coughing, mumbling, sighing loudly, blowing his nose. Max was close to losing it. There is so much time one can spend not sleeping and Max was close to his breaking point. At 4 in the morning, he got up and decided to call Y/N. She was in Buenos Aires, so it would be around midnight there, she was definitely up, no one slept early in Argentina. He felt terrible calling her to complain about their boyfriend, but Max just couldn't take it anymore, he needed to sleep and their friends were too loud and energetic to actually help. He confirmed that the day before. So she was his last resort. He sat on the toilet with the lid down, looking at his phone and re-thinking about calling her or not. She was having fun, spending some time with her family, people she missed all year round, he didn't feel comfortable ruining that, but he didn't know what to do. He heard Charles cough from the room and dialed his girlfriend's number. It rang a few times, then, he was met with the sound of music and people speaking loudly.

"Hey, Maxie, it's everything alright?". She greeted him. He could hear her friends mocking her, saying "Maxie" over and over again, her grandmother scolding them, and Y/N laughing at the situation. "Wait! It's like 4 am there. Max, is Charles alright?".

"YES". He quickly reassured her when he noticed how worried she was. She sighed in relief. "I just...".

"What is it?". He heard the noise turn down, she had probably moved away from people so they could talk better.

"I lied to you. Charles has not been easy to deal with. At all! He's terrible, and I miss my sleep and we miss you and he's coughing all the time and the guys came by and it was a mess...". He kept rambling about how the last few days had been horrible for him and she patiently listened to him. It was bad that Charles was still with a fever, that wasn't normal, since he was taking medication for that, but Max was also someone who could escalate a situation pretty quickly, so it was hard for her to know exactly if the situation was that bad. Nonetheless, she let him let it all out, once she noticed that he was done, she offered a solution.

"Listen, Amor, give me two days. Tomorrow I will say goodbyes and then I'll be on the first plane I can catch, okay?". She heard him let out a breath he had been holding. "We'll take care of him together".

"Thank you, Schat, thank you so much". He said, feeling a lot better.

On the 6th, around 8 pm, Y/N finally got back home. She slowly opened the door, Pete went to her to greet her. She patted his head and scratched the back of his ears, earning a little huff of approval from the dog. Sassy and Jimmy went next, rubbing against her legs and meowing, showing their Mamá how much they missed her. She tried to shush them, noticing that Max and Charles were probably sleeping. Quietly, she dropped her suitcase by the door and took off her shoes, walking around the dark apartment towards the bedroom. The door made a minimal cracking sound as she pushed it open softly and she cringed about it, but she discovered that her boys were wide awake inside, completely unbothered by the sound of the door. Charles was in a semi-awake state, his eyes glossy and forehead shiny with sweat, probably still with a fever. Max was next to him, his eyes tired and the bags under them prominent, like he hadn't slept in days. The Dutchman's eyes light up with her presence, the tiredness still there but now mixed with relief.

"Schat!". He jumped up and ran to her, picking her up and spinning her a few times, before he set her back down and kissed her, like his life depended on it. Maybe his sanity did. "You're here!".

"Yeah, how have you guys been?". Max was frowning at her instead of answering her question. "What?"

"Weren't coming back tomorrow?". She was the one frowning now. "I told you we could wait, I can't believe I made you leave your family so soon".

"No, Amor, I said two days, that was the day before yesterday". She went to the bed and sat down, placing her hand on Charles' face and caressing his cheek.

"No no, today's the 5th, Schat".

"Max, it's January 6th". She took her phone out of her pocket to show him the date. "When was the last time you slept?"

"I don't know...". Y/N looked at him, worried, taking into his pitiful state. Charles was still out so she got up and dragged Max to the living room. They sat on the couch and he rested his head on her shoulder.

"You should sleep here tonight, I'll look after Charlie". He hummed in agreement. "Did you guys eat already?". Max nodded. "Good, then lie down and rest".

"Thank you, Schat".

Max lied down and closed his eyes, falling asleep instantly. Y/N walked back to the room, changed for the night and got into bed with Charles. He had the flu, how bad could it be? Really bad, she discovered that night. The Monegasque spent the night complaining, she wasn't able to close her eyes for a minute. Between Charles' never ending turning and how tired she was from the trip, she was wishing she could go to the living room with Max. When the morning light came, she was still awake and extremely tired. Charles was the most annoying patient in the world. If he was complaining like that for the flu, what would he do for a stomach bug? They were lucky that Charles rarely got sick. Max went to the bedroom around 11 am, better rested and ready to treat his girl better than last night. But she was looking just as miserable as he did the past few days. Charles was finally asleep, so she got up and the two of them went to the kitchen for breakfast. Max, with more energy than her, made some Stroopwafels, while Y/N just rested her head on her hand, slumped over the table.

"I think it's time for Charles' meds, Amor". She told him after a few minutes in silence. "Where are they?".

"First drawer, my nightstand. It's a bottle that says-"

"Paracetamol, I know, my mother's a doctor, remember?". He noticed the pain in her voice, under the tiredness, but he chose not to keep up the conversation about her mother, she was not rested enough to talk about that woman. She walked back to the bedroom and opened the drawer, the bottle being the first thing she saw.

"Here's a glass of water". Max told her as she walked up to him, the bottle in her hand.

"Have you been giving Charles this?". She showed him the bottle.

"Of course, every 8 hours". He proudly answered.

"It's expired, Max". His smile dropped instantly. "This expired in 2020".

"You're fucking with me". He took the bottle from her and inspected it. "It can't be expired".

"This is so old I wasn't even in F1 when it stopped being useful". She ran her hands down her face and sighed. "I'll run to the pharmacy and buy a new one. Of course he's not feeling better, the meds don't work once they are expired, it's like giving him nothing".

Y/N brought a new bottle of medication and Charles was already feeling better that night. They all finally got some proper sleep. The next morning, Charles was a new man, back again with his good spirits and big smiles, as if he hasn't been the most over dramatic person for the last few days. Max and Y/N were still exhausted as he walked into the kitchen for breakfast.

"I can't believe you flew all the way back here just for the flu, Amour, it wasn't that serious!". He told Y/N as he took a bite of his Stroopwafels. "And I took it like a champ".

"Yeah, sure, Corazón". She said, condescendingly.

"Get sick again, Charles, and I'm personally burring you with your Ferrari underwear, you fucking Drama King".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

This one is pretty long, but i had fun writing it! Hope you guys like it!

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #lestappen imagine #lestappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #max vestappen one shot

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cyberkitty1 · 11 months

Note

can you pls write e42!miles x crybaby!reader? i feel like he might not react the best initially to a very emotionally sensitive gf but he would come around (probably to aaron's dismay)

Things have been rocky between you and Miles lately. You feel he hasn’t been paying attention to you lately and you know its not just you being needy because his mom and Aaron see it as well!

You call him to ask if he wants to hang out with you today:

hey miles, ive missed you baby! how hve you been?

you hear an annoyed sigh on the other end of the phone.

Ok, supongo que ¿qué hay de ti?

good! I wanted to know if you may want to hang out with me today?

no, I’m busy

but we haven’t been on a date in weeks

i know I’m just busy with work, i cant talk right now. Bye

wait-

click

he hung up on you? He doesn’t hang up without saying bye? Thats new.

- couple days later -

you decided to show up to his house with his favorite foods. Rio answers the door. “¡Ay, mi bebé, estás aquí! Cómo ha estado” “¡He estado buena! Y usted, ¿cómo está señora Morales?” “Buenas gracias por preguntar ¿por qué estás aquí?”

Oh um I haven’t seen Miles in a while and he hasn’t been answering my calls or texts.

Rio gives you an annoyed look “ i’m sorry hunny he’s been really busy” “yea, is it ok if i just put this in his room and leave?” “yes of course!”

So you make your way to his bedroom waving to Aaron. You open the door to see him playing games on his computer. you wonder to yourself is this what he’s been doing instead of replying to you?? interesting.

He turns around to see you but doesn’t say anything. “Hola, mi príncipe, sé que has estado ocupado últimamente, ¡así que te traje comida!” you say smiling. “ ok….just put it on my dresser.” he says sounding a but annoyed. “ ok, i also came here to talk to you” you said said standing behind him.

There was an odd silence between you guys “ well aint you here now? speak.” You were caught off guard a bit.” Yea umm are you upset with me or something? I call you and text you but your not replying.”

He sighs pausing his game “ so i always have to talk to you or something? Like can i not be tired now?” he say’s defensively. “ nonono I mean i call and text you but you will leave me on read or you just decline my calls. Did i do soemthong to make you upset, tell me.” he rolls his eyes “ you doin’ too much, i cant do this anymore” he whispers.

you look at him shocked “ what did you say?” tears filling your eyes. “ he stands backing you into the door. your eyes where already filled with tears willing to spill. “ I said I cant do this anymore! you always wanna call me and text me ma, you cry all the time like now! look you’re gonna cry.”

He says getting all in your face. You are way too stunned to speak. You open the door walking out. At this point you’re crying, mascara all over your face.

Coming down the stairs you see Aaron and Rio watching TV. Aaron speaks first “ what happened are you ok?” you look at them for a split second “ no um i’m just gonna go home, good night” voice cracking.

Aaron and Rio look at each other. “ Ill go talk to him” Aaron says.

—————————————

Part 2!

not really proof read.

im using a different app for translations!!

#earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles morales x reader #atsv x reader #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 #angst #no comfort

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

Text

This is your brain on fraud apologetics

In 1998, two Stanford students published a paper in Computer Networks entitled “The Anatomy of a Large-Scale Hypertextual Web Search Engine,” in which they wrote, “Advertising funded search engines will be inherently biased towards the advertisers and away from the needs of consumers.”

https://research.google/pubs/pub334/

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

The co-authors were Lawrence Page and Sergey Brin, and the “large-scale hypertextual web search-engine” they were describing was their new project, which they called “Google.” They were 100% correct — prescient, even!

On Wednesday night, a friend came over to watch some TV with us. We ordered out. We got scammed. We searched for a great local Thai place we like called Kiin and clicked a sponsored link for a Wix site called “Kiinthaila.com.” We should have clicked the third link down (kiinthaiburbank.com).

We got scammed. The Wix site was a lookalike for Kiin Thai, which marked up their prices by 15% and relayed the order to our local, mom-and-pop, one-branch restaurant. The restaurant knew it, too — they called us and told us they were canceling the order, and said we could still come get our food, but we’d have to call Amex to reverse the charge.

As it turned out, the scammers double-billed us for our order. I called Amex, who advised us to call back in a couple days when the charge posted to cancel it — in other words, they were treating it as a regular customer dispute, and not a systemic, widespread fraud (there’s no way this scammer is just doing this for one restaurant).

In the grand scheme of things, this is a minor hassle, but boy, it’s haunting to watch the quarter-century old prophecy of Brin and Page coming true. Search Google for carpenters, plumbers, gas-stations, locksmiths, concert tickets, entry visas, jobs at the US Post Office or (not making this up) tech support for Google products, and the top result will be a paid ad for a scam. Sometimes it’s several of the top ads.

This kind of “intermediation” business is actually revered in business-schools. As Douglas Rushkoff has written, the modern business wisdom reveres “going meta” — not doing anything useful, but rather, creating a chokepoint between people who do useful things and people who want to pay for those things, and squatting there, collecting rent:

https://rushkoff.medium.com/going-meta-d42c6a09225e

It’s the ultimate passive income/rise and grind side-hustle: It wouldn’t surprise me in the least to discover a whole festering nest of creeps on Tiktok talking about how they pay Mechanical Turks to produce these lookalike sites at scale.

This mindset is so pervasive that people running companies with billions in revenue and massive hoards of venture capital run exactly the same scam. During lockdown, companies like Doordash, Grubhub and Uber Eats stood up predatory lookalike websites for local restaurants, without their consent, and played monster-in-the-middle, tricking diners into ordering through them:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/19/we-are-beautiful/#man-in-the-middle

These delivery app companies were playing a classic enshittification game: first they directed surpluses to customers to lock them in (heavily discounting food), then they directed surplus to restaurants (preferential search results, free delivery, low commissions) — then, having locked in both consumers and producers, they harvested the surplus for themselves.

Today, delivery apps charge massive premiums to both eaters and restaurants, load up every order with junk fees, and clone the most successful restaurants out of ghost kitchens — shipping containers in parking lots crammed with low-waged workers cranking out orders for 15 different fake “virtual restaurants”:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/01/autophagic-buckeyes/#subsidized-autophagia

Delivery apps speedran the enshittification cycle, but Google took a slower path to get there. The company has locked in billions of users (e.g. by paying billions to be the default search on Safari and Firefox and using legal bullying to block third party Android device-makers from pre-installing browsers other than Chrome). For years, it’s been leveraging our lock-in to prey on small businesses, getting them to set up Google Business Profiles.

These profiles are supposed to help Google distinguish between real sellers and scammers. But Kiin Thai has a Google Business Profile, and searching for “kiin thai burbank” brings up a “Knowledge Panel” with the correct website address — on a page that is headed with a link to a scam website for the same business. Google, in other words, has everything it needs to flag lookalike sites and confirm them with their registered owners. It would cost Google money to do this — engineer-time to build and maintain the system, content moderator time to manually check flagged listings, and lost ad-revenue from scammers — but letting the scams flourish makes Google money, at the expense of Google users and Google business customers.

Now, Google has an answer for this: they tell merchants who are being impersonated by ad-buying scammers that all they need to do is outbid them for the top ad-spot. This is a common approach — Amazon has a $31b/year “ad business” that’s mostly its own platform sellers bidding against each other to show you fake results for your query. The first five screens of Amazon search results are 50% ads:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

This is “going meta,” so naturally, Meta is doing it too: Facebook and Instagram have announced a $12/month “verification” badge that will let you report impersonation and tweak the algorithm to make it more likely that the posts you make are shown to the people who explicitly asked to see them:

https://www.vox.com/recode/2023/2/21/23609375/meta-verified-twitter-blue-checkmark-badge-instagram-facebook

The corollary of this, of course, is that if you don’t pay, they won’t police your impersonators, and they won’t show your posts to the people who asked to see them. This is pure enshittification — the surplus from users and business customers is harvested for the benefit of the platform owners:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

The idea that merchants should master the platforms as a means of keeping us safe from their impersonators is a hollow joke. For one thing, the rules change all the time, as the platforms endlessly twiddle the knobs that determine what gets shown to whom:

https://doctorow.medium.com/twiddler-1b5c9690cce6

And they refuse to tell anyone what the rules are, because if they told you what the rules were, you’d be able to bypass them. Content moderation is the only infosec domain where “security through obscurity” doesn’t get laughed out of the room:

https://doctorow.medium.com/como-is-infosec-307f87004563

Worse: the one thing the platforms do hunt down and exterminate with extreme prejudice is anything that users or business-customers use to twiddle back — add-ons and plugins and jailbreaks that override their poor choices with better ones:

https://www.theverge.com/2022/9/29/23378541/the-og-app-instagram-clone-pulled-from-app-store

As I was submitting complaints about the fake Kiin scam-site (and Amex’s handling of my fraud call) to the FTC, the California Attorney General, the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau and Wix, I wrote a little Twitter thread about what a gross scam this is:

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1628948906657878016

The thread got more than two million reads and got picked up by Hacker News and other sites. While most of the responses evinced solidarity and frustration and recounted similar incidents in other domains, a significant plurality of the replies were scam apologetics — messages from people who wanted to explain why this wasn’t a problem after all.

The most common of these was victim-blaming: “you should have used an adblocker” or “never click the sponsored link.” Of course, I do use an ad-blocker — but this order was placed with a mobile browser, after an absentminded query into the Google search-box permanently placed on the home screen, which opens results in Chrome (where I don’t have an ad-blocker, so I can see material behind an ad-blocker-blocker), not Firefox (which does have an ad-blocker).

Now, I also have a PiHole on my home LAN, which blocks most ads even in a default browser — but earlier this day, I’d been on a public wifi network that was erroneously blocking a website (the always excellent superpunch.net) so I’d turned my wifi off, which meant the connection came over my phone’s 5G connection, bypassing the PiHole:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/28/shut-yer-pi-hole/

“Don’t click a sponsored link” — well, the irony here is that if you habitually use a browser with an ad-blocker, and you backstop it with a PiHole, you never see sponsored links, so it’s easy to miss the tiny “Sponsored” notification beside the search result. That goes double if you’re relaxing with a dinner guest on the sofa and ordering dinner while chatting.

There’s a name for this kind of security failure: the Swiss Cheese Model. We all have multiple defenses (in my case: foreknowledge of Google’s ad-scam problem, an ad-blocker in my browser, LAN-wide ad sinkholing). We also have multiple vulnerabilities (in my case: forgetting I was on 5G, being distracted by conversation, using a mobile device with a permanent insecure search bar on the homescreen, and being so accustomed to ad-blocked results that I got out of the habit of checking whether a result was an ad).

If you think you aren’t vulnerable to scams, you’re wrong — and your confidence in your invulnerability actually increases your risk. This isn’t the first time I’ve been scammed, and it won’t be the last — and every time, it’s been a Swiss Cheese failure, where all the holes in all my defenses lined up for a brief instant and left me vulnerable:

https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/

Other apologetics: “just call the restaurant rather than using its website.” Look, I know the people who say this don’t think I have a time-machine I can use to travel back to the 1980s and retrieve a Yellow Pages, but it’s hard not to snark at them, just the same. Scammers don’t just set up fake websites for your local businesses — they staff them with fake call-centers, too. The same search that takes you to a fake website will also take you to a fake phone number.

Finally, there’s “What do you expect Google to do? They can’t possibly detect this kind of scam.” But they can. Indeed, they are better situated to discover these scams than anyone else, because they have their business profiles, with verified contact information for the merchants being impersonated. When they get an ad that seems to be for the same business but to a different website, they could interrupt the ad process to confirm it with their verified contact info.

Instead, they choose to avoid the expense, and pocket the ad revenue. If a company promises to “to organize the world’s information and make it universally accessible and useful,” I think we have the right to demand these kinds of basic countermeasures:

https://www.google.com/search/howsearchworks/our-approach/

The same goes for Amex: when a merchant is scamming customers, they shouldn’t treat complaints as “chargebacks” — they should treat them as reports of a crime in progress. Amex has the bird’s eye view of their transaction flow and when a customer reports a scam, they can backtrack it to see if the same scammer is doing this with other merchants — but the credit card companies make money by not chasing down fraud:

https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/rosalindadams/mastercard-visa-fraud

Wix also has platform-scale analytics that they could use to detect and interdict this kind of fraud — when a scammer creates a hundred lookalike websites for restaurants and uses Wix’s merchant services to process payments for them, that could trigger human review — but it didn’t.

Where do all of these apologetics come from? Why are people so eager to leap to the defense of scammers and their adtech and fintech enablers? Why is there such an impulse to victim-blame?

I think it’s fear: in their hearts, people — especially techies — know that they, too, are vulnerable to these ripoffs, but they don’t want to admit it. They want to convince themselves that the person who got scammed made an easily avoidable mistake, and that they themselves will never make a similar mistake.

This is doubly true for readerships on tech-heavy forums like Twitter or (especially) Hacker News. These readers know just how many vulnerabilities there are — how many holes are in their Swiss cheese — and they are also overexposed to rise-and-grind/passive income rhetoric.

This produces a powerful cognitive dissonance: “If all the ‘entrepreneurs’ I worship are just laying traps for the unwary, and if I am sometimes unwary, then I’m cheering on the authors of my future enduring misery.” The only way to resolve this dissonance — short of re-evaluating your view of platform capitalism or questioning your own immunity to scams — is to blame the victim.

The median Hacker News reader has to somehow resolve the tension between “just install an adblocker” and “Chrome’s extension sandbox is a dumpster fire and it’s basically impossible to know whether any add-on you install can steal every keystroke and all your other data”:

https://mattfrisbie.substack.com/p/spy-chrome-extension

In my Twitter thread, I called this “the worst of all possible timelines.” Everything we do is mediated by gigantic, surveillant monopolists that spy on us comprehensively from asshole to appetite — but none of them, not a 20th century payment giant nor a 21st century search giant — can bestir itself to use that data to keep us safe from scams.

Next Thu (Mar 2) I'll be in Brussels for Antitrust, Regulation and the Political Economy, along with a who's-who of European and US trustbusters. It's livestreamed, and both in-person and virtual attendance are free:

https://www.brusselsconference.com/registration

On Fri (Mar 3), I'll be in Graz for the Elevate Festival:

https://elevate.at/diskurs/programm/event/e23doctorow/

[Image ID: A modified version of Hieronymus Bosch's painting 'The Conjurer,' which depicts a scam artist playing a shell-game for a group of gawking rubes. The image has been modified so that the scam artist's table has a Google logo and the pea he is triumphantly holding aloft bears the 'Sponsored' wordmark that appears alongside Google search results.]

#pluralistic #victim blaming #fraud #going meta #douglas rushkoff #ad-tech #local search #wix #amex #thai food #business #rent-seeking #entrepreneurship #passive income #chokepoint capitalism #platform lawyers

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letorip · 4 days

Text

i heard your name [ii]

“i want you so, i can hardly let you go, please be mine for a time, now and forever”

===+++===

pairing: cairo sweet x reader

summary: after several weeks of trying to run in the opposite direction, you find you can no longer evade the magnetic pull yanking you towards her

warnings: explicit but gender neutral sexual content, being used both physically and emotionally, 'lover boy' is used ironic and is still considered gender neutral, implied teacher-student relationships

word count: 6.4k

A/N: definitely making another already because it’s kind of getting juicy. again inspired by pale fire and hot summer nights.

===+++===

You had always heard that people looked like their pets, but it had never occurred to you that someone could look like their house. Standing in front of Lovell Hill, it was impossible anyone else but Cairo Sweet lived there.

The building stood tall, with white towering ionic columns that reached to hold up the dark clay tile roofing like soft angelic hands lifted to the sky. Everything about the house was big, with a giant, wide cedar porch and a towering balcony that looked out over the small garden in front of its door.

You had figured Cairo was well off from her clothes and general overabundance of education, but this screamed a wealth so extreme it almost wasn’t computing in your brain. Not with your own tawdry house that had only been built two years ago and was about the size of Cairo’s home if you sliced it by a quarter.

You had seen homes like these in movies or on the home improvement channels. Most motels had the home improvement channels on the TV, and you had watched with a sense of awe, sitting on the mouldy carpet late at night with your mom asleep behind you, looking at the muted tours of the homes with a private envy.

Such grandeur was incomprehensible and didn’t exist beyond the screen and TV magic. Or, that’s what you thought until you stood at the end of her garden, with all its greenery and a few lines of flowers, looking up at the front door.

It was quite the dilemma, to knock or not to knock. You could turn around right now, save yourself a whole bunch of sleepless nights and half a brain if you just told her you felt sick and had to cancel. She’d be annoyed, sure, but maybe Cairo being angry was better than Cairo being hungry.

You weren’t all too sure you wouldn’t try to satiate her hunger, and that was a dangerous game to play. Since she had sat down beside you in class, fleeting had been slowly drifting away, and you found yourself clutching onto what little of it you had left, rebuking the witchcraft that seemed to tug you to her.

You were about to do that, walk away, but then the door to the balcony swung open, and out Cairo came, leaning over the railing with a smile, and you felt your own heart clutch to your ribs. She propped her head up on her palm, peering down at you.

“Are you coming in?” She asked, laughing. “You’ve been standing there for ten minutes.”

“I’m just looking. At the landscaping,” you called up to her, and it was mostly true, though Cairo laughed like you were being funny. You felt a blush rising to your cheeks. Fleeting, you idiot.

“It’s my parents’ house. I know it’s a bit much,” said Cairo, standing up straighter.

“A bit?” you said, the sarcasm worming its way into your voice. It was a lot much.

“Yeah,” she replied, smiling at you again all bright. “A bit.” You smiled back, holding a hand up to cover your eyes so you could continue to stare at her on the balcony in the sun, like your own Juliet.

“Can I come inside?” You asked, taking a few steps forward into the shadow the roof of her house casted over the ground. Cairo seemed to find a playfulness with the question, and you were left there like a moron, wondering why she was laughing again.

“No, actually,” she said. “I invited you here to make you walk over here and then walk home.”

“Did you."

“I did,” she nodded, having fun. “I’ll be down in a minute when I’m done with something; the front door is unlocked."

"That seems unsafe," you said.

She raised her eyebrows at you. "Why, are you worried for my safety?"

You shrugged, deciding neutrality was the best policy. There wasn't anything wrong with saying you were worried about her as a friend, but you knew she would draw some strange entendre. "I would worry about random people wandering in, to be honest."

Cairo shook her head. "Not here in Tennessee. Now go inside. The longer you stall me the longer it takes me to finish what I'm doing." With that, she disappeared back inside, leaving you on her porch. You swallowed the lump in your throat and went inside.

Cairo Sweet's house was much like her soul, in grandeur and in wealth. Even in the foyer, which was where you found yourself, the walls seemed to reach up much like the pillars, raised towards the covered sky. A grand staircase led up to the second floor, and with the soft closing of the door behind you, Cairo called out from up the stairs.

"You can go into the kitchen, I left some wine out on the counter."

You blinked. "Wine?" You said back, making sure you were hearing correctly. Cairo's laugh floated down from the second floor.

"Yes, 'wine.'" You had never had anything like wine before, though the way she threw it out so casually made you think she was no stranger to the concept.

The kitchen was the room right off to the left of the foyer, with a large bay window and some checkered ceramic tiling on the floor. In the centre sat an old gas range stove, a similar shade of green as the walls. The brass handle curved down to the drawer on the bottom, and it looked like a droll little mouth underneath the knobs.

On the white marbled countertop that boxed the stove in was a set of two glasses and a bottle of reddish wine that was three quarters full. The entire room was immaculately clean, with the perfectly angled chairs sitting around the nook table in the corner and the utterly spotless surfaces, both floor and table.

It looked just like those staged houses on the home improvement channels, and you wandered over to peer into the glass hutch, which was piled up with books in stacks around it. The top cabinet held an array of glassware, some of them gathering dust. They were pretty, and you leaned in to the ceramic ones with antique designs etched into the sides. You wanted to own dishes like those, someday.

"The plates are pretty, aren't they? It’s a real shame about the led.” You spun around to find Cairo behind you. Your heart immediately started doing a backflip in your chest. Cairo was no longer in the soft shirt and shorts she had been wearing on her balcony— no. Instead, she was now in a silky cream-coloured dress, one that clung to the curves of her body and hung elegantly from her shoulders in a way that made the tips of your ears warm.

She walked right up to you as if there was no difference, staring at the plate you had been looking at with what couldn't possibly be a genuine curiosity. Up close it was clear she had put on some makeup, her lips glossy and pink and her eyes dark. She had to know she was playing you like a fiddle.

You watched her in laser focus as she nodded at the plate. "My parents bought that one from a village in the Swiss Alps."

"What?" you mumbled, clever as always.

"The plate," she said, like it was obvious. "Most of the plates in there are from Switzerland or China."

"Oh...cool."

Cairo brushed past it, gesturing back to the bottle that sat on the counter. "Would you like some?" she asked, clasping her hands behind her back.

"But what would your parents say?" you asked. Mostly you were looking for any excuse not to, but you were also filled with curiosity. Cairo Sweet hadn't just fallen out of a coconut tree— she was the product of whatever her parents were like and you desired to put two and two together, and for that to make it make sense.

"They're not here right now," she replied, walking right over to the bottle and pulling the cork straight out. You swallowed but followed her over, and Cairo grabbed a glass to pour it into.

"So you live here?" It was a genuine question, and part of you was still struggling to understand that this was just someone's everyday lifestyle. Cairo nodded.

"That's what Winnie asked me too, when she first saw it. People say my house is haunted."

"They do?"

"Yeah," she said. "Lovell Hill. It's famous, or at least around here it is."

"Well... is it true?"

Cairo shook her head. "Sorry to disappoint. Only thing that lives here is me."

"And your parents?"

Her mouth thinned into a line at the question, but she spoke quickly. "Yes, them too." Then Cairo held up a glass. "Would you like some?"

"Uh, no thanks. We should probably start on the assignment...," you trailed off. Cairo was staring you down with a certain glint in her eye. “What?”

"You've never drank before," she said. It wasn't a question, and you could feel heat going back to your face. To any other person, you'd have no problem saying no, but to her you felt your breath catch in your throat.

"Uh, I have, I just don't want any right now," you lied. And Cairo knew you were lying, judging from the smile she watched you with. But she only shrugged.

"You can have some of mine later, then," she said, straightening up and walking out of the kitchen. You followed her like a proper guest, like she was a tour guide helping you through the jungle. You warily tailed her out of there and up the stairs.

On the landing there were even more books, in large, towering stacks near the railing, ended on each side by potted plants and small floor decorations. You stopped, taking a thick paperback from off the top of one stack and turning it over to read the back. “Have you really read all of these?” You asked. Cairo turned.

“Not all of them, no. Most of them belong to my parents, so they’re cheesy spy thrillers and soapy romances.”

You nodded. “My mom reads those ones too.”

“Anyways, what do you read?” Cairo asked, walking over to you and taking the book from your hands to look at it herself. You shrugged.

“For a while there, anything I could get my hands on.”

She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Uh, just that my mother didn't take me to bookstores a lot," you said, having gotten comfortable with lying. In reality, you had mostly read travel books and magazines from gas stations, since those were really the only places you and your mother stopped often. You didn't start actually reading book-books until you were about ten, and your mom bought you a kindle for your birthday.

But giving Cairo the truth would mean telling her you were on the road a lot, which would mean telling her about why it was you moved so often, which would mean telling her you would probably be leaving soon, so you lied. It was typically a better idea to vanish without warning one day, off to another state like you had been one giant bad dream.

"Mm," she hummed it agreement, putting the book back down and leading the way into a door that stood at the far end of the hall. "My parents didn't either, when they realised I bought like ten or twelve at a time," she said, tugging you into her bedroom.

It was exactly like you could have imagined it, with a darker shade of green and ebony wainscoting that matched the grand bed in the middle of the room with fluffy, lush bedding and a near mountain of pillows in the centre.

"Well then," Cairo drawled. "Shall we?"

The smirk she was staring at you with sent a shiver down your spine. You gave her a cautious nod and pulled your backpack off of your back.

===+++===

You had your paper almost completely done within an hour of laying down on Cairo's bed to write it, though in the corner where Cairo sat typing hers, she seemed incredibly frustrated. You had only been observing her a little, watching her type what could've maybe been a few words and then immediately holding down the delete key until they were all gone.

You understood to a certain extent— windows were so unbelievably symbolic it was possible to go in millions of directions when writing your story. But you were almost done, and inspiration had hit you from the moment you knew what your symbol was meant to be.

You put the final finishing sentences in where they were meant to go, and put down your pen, sitting up to crack your fingers and stretch your back. Cairo looked up at you, eyes glaring.

"You're finished?" Her tone was sharp, and you looked around the room in surprise.

"Yeah?" You replied. Cairo narrowed her eyes at you.

"How," she demanded sitting up in her chair and slamming her laptop shut.

You shrugged. "I don't know, I kind of rushed it anyhow."

"Let me read it, (Y/n)," Cairo said, holding her hand out. You leaned forwards and tossed the paper to her, rolling over onto your back to stare up at the ceiling while she read it. She had one of those popcorn roofs, with bumps all over it, and you found yourself tracing a little path in your mind.

"This is..." she said after a few minutes. You turned your head to look at her sideways. "This is really good," said Cairo, but in a way that made your eyebrows furrow.

"Why'd you say it like that?" you asked, sitting up from where you had been laying.

"Like what?" She asked standing up from her chair and walking towards you, to lean on one of the bedposts. You swallowed.

"I... don't know," you muttered.

"Hm," she hummed. "I have a question."

"Yeah?"

"The astronaut. The one who goes crazy in outer space from looking out the window on his solo mission. Is that supposed to be you?"

"Oh. No, he isn't. He's just a character I thought of," you shook your head. Cairo raised an eyebrow at you.

"But he is a lot like you, isn't he? Alone, I mean. That's why you lied to Winnie about lunch." She got you with that line. You stared at her, frowning. Your mind screamed LIE over and over, but you knew there was no point. Not when she was reading you like a book. She took another step towards you, until she was standing in between your legs where you sat. You hadn't realised there was any connection with the astronaut when you thought of him, but maybe he was?

"Are you lonely, (Y/n)?"

"No? I mean, I don't think I am." It came out in a whisper; you didn't need to speak loudly when Cairo was so close. You could feel her hot breath on your cheeks like a fan.

"I've been thinking of you, since you arrived," Cairo murmured. Her fingers crawled up your knee slowly, the pads of her fingers brushing the hem of your shorts. She looked down at the small space between you.

"Yeah?" You asked.

"You're captivating," she said. "It's annoying. Shrouded in mystery and answering to no one."

"Yeah?" Pink was flushing towards your cheeks.

She smiled, looking up at your face again. "Yeah. It would be less distracting if you didn't come with such nice eyes."

You swallowed. It felt like everywhere her fingers went she left behind a trail of pure fire, churning up your insides. Your mind was screaming at you to not be an idiot. You'd probably regret this in a month or two when your mom told you you would be leaving again. Stop, right now and save yourself so much sleep, you idiot. That would've been the smart thing to do.

Her hands came up slowly, skimming gently up your neck until they landed at the nape, and you were reminded of the lollipop she had plucked from your lips to place in her own for a moment.

"Cairo, what're we doing?" you managed. Cairo shrugged.

"You ask me that but I'm not entirely sure. I just know it feels nice," she whispered to you. "So shut up and let me feel nice," she said with a smile.

Within an instant, her lips pressed hard into your own. You pulled your head back in surprise but Cairo's soft palms held you firmly where you sat, and you found yourself melting at the feeling. It was messy and it wasn't graceful, but it spoke of the passion that bubbled under Cairo's removed exterior. She started to move against you then, and you against her.

You found yourself entranced at the sensation, and pulled away just to get a look at her face. She was breathing heavily, lips red and eyes wild, and you only came back wanting more, reconnecting the both of you, your hands moving to her waist and then up her back.

"Cairo..." you mumbled, her lips moving to your jaw and then hastily to your ear.

"Mm," she hummed.

"Cairo, I can't," you managed, trying to pull away but finding her still on you. Your mind was yelling at you horrible, horrible things, not only about yourself but about what you wanted to do to her.

"Mm," she sounded again, moving down your neck in a way that left you tingly.

"Really, I just—"

"Take my hands off of you, then," she challenged, in between peppering kisses and sucking on a spot directly over your pulse. You shivered.

"I can't."

"Well, I guess we're at a crossroads," she said. Her right hand slid down your chest to the hem of your shirt, sliding gently underneath and laying itself flat against your stomach. She smirked when she reconnected your lips, knowing she was winning.

"This is a really bad idea."

"You talk too much."

"No, because this is really a conflict of interest. We're supposed to uh..." you stammered, getting distracted by he hand on your stomach slowly getting lower and lower, creeping towards the top of your shorts. "We're supposed read each other's stuff and be honest."

Cairo stopped, pulling away, raising her eyebrows at you. "Are you serious? You don't want to have sex with me —when you've been practically eye-fucking me since we met— so that you can be an honest peer grader???"

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds stupid."

"That's because it is stupid."

"I— I just can't do that with someone."

She scoffed. "Are you waiting until marriage or something?"

"No."

"Are you asexual?"

"No."

"Is it Winnie?"

"No."

"Do you like boys?"

"No!"

"Then why? I mean, come on. We both knew this would end one of two ways."

"We're better off as just classmates, trust me."

Cairo blinked at you for a moment, like you were the most confusing person she had ever met. Then she got up off of you. Your lap felt lighter, but also emptier, and you wanted to scream up at the stars for not being able to just indulge this one little desire.

"Fine," she said, and her tone caught you off guard. Most people would probably be upset or angry, but it just seemed like Cairo was challenged and endeared. Like she was going to work out your problem and get right back to this situation, only this time she'd get exactly as she wanted.

She wouldn't, you promised yourself. Never ever. The heartbreak wasn't worth it. Cairo checked her watch. "Could you come over tomorrow too? I'm not done with my story yet, and I want you to read it."

"Uh," you thought out loud. You didn't see why not. Maybe you wouldn't be lovers, but just innocent friends? You weren't so much a monster that you wouldn't be able to stop yourself if you hung out with her. Innocent friends were much easier to forget anyways. "Sure," you said, unknowingly giving her exactly what she wanted.

===+++===

You had gone to her house almost every night for the past week, laying on her bed while she sat in the corner in the same familiar chair, typing the same bloody story that she refused to be satisfied with. It was becoming a pattern, even an unconscious one. The next day had been entirely as awkward as expected, with you trying to act as unbothered as possible.

The friendship was going better than you had anticipated, and you were very pleased with your own self restraint. Winnie had come over too, once or twice, and you enjoyed existing within the context but still on the periphery of a friendship.

Cairo Sweet would hunt you down as her friend or as her whatever-you-were, so you figured giving into one would be the path of least resistance anyhow.

She must have been an insanely picky writer. She wrote every word with an overabundant caution, like she was trying so hard to craft perfection. It was like she wanted her keyboard to drip liquid gold onto the page, and the critics to all collectively clap when she finished a sentence.

"You're like George R. R. Martin with how slow you finish a story," you had said once, out of the blue. Cairo looked up at you, offended, and thrown a pillow in your direction that connected with your face.

"I'm trying to cultivate perfection of the written word," she said, and you rolled your eyes.

"God, writers are so pretentious," you wrinkled your nose. "The only people who like to read annoying writers' books are annoying people."

Cairo scoffed. "Yeah, what, you want to be surrounded by James Bond fans? Stephen King fanboys?"

"That's cool, though," you shrugged. "Gets the point across, isn't badly written, and makes a sometimes beautiful passage along the way."

"Oh, so your writing," she joked, smiling at you. It was an innocent smile, and one that so starkly contrasted the lustful one she had looked at you with only a few days ago. Even in memory, her eyes sent a shiver up your spine.

"Yeah, well, people seem to like it. I guess I’m doing something right," you said. Cairo frowned.

"I don't get it," she shook her head. "And you still won't let me read that first one you wrote."

"It's not exactly something I want to talk about to you."

"Why? Is it bad?" she asked, sitting up straight. You knew she meant 'tell me your dirty secrets' by that.

"I just don't want to."

"Hm," she grumbled, laying back in the chair. "And anyways, if what you say about that thing is true, I don't know why Miller liked it. His book is full of the flowery stuff you complain about."

"He wrote a book???" You were incredulous.

Cairo nodded. "A while ago. Apostrophes and Ampersands."

"Never heard of it."

Cairo shrugged. "It didn't exactly make massive waves. It was ingenious though. Grand and tragic."

"You read it then?" You asked, sitting up and turning towards her.

"Yes, I did," she replied nonchalantly. "I enjoyed it."

You looked out the window for a moment, then back to her. Friends should be friends. "Can I borrow your copy?"

===+++===

"God," you groaned, reading Mr. Miller's book with it held over your head, laying on your back. Cairo had given it to you two days ago and now you were slogging through it, waiting for it to get interesting. "'Human ruins of a madman's love,'" you mocked.

"It's gorgeous," Cairo said. She wasn't in her usual chair, she was sitting by the window with it cracked open, a cigarette in her hand.

"It's not— wait, are you smoking?" You asked, sitting up. Cairo rolled her eyes, grinning at you.

"No, I'm just sitting here with a cigarette lit in my fingers."

"God. Wine and a cigarette, what are you, thirty-four."

"Shut up," she said, putting the cigarette in between her lips and puffing out the window. "And anyways that quote is beautiful."

"Maybe," you challenged. "But what is it actually saying?"

"She means everything to him and he's going crazy for her," Cairo said, like it was obvious. You nodded.

"That's the thought and THAT'S what's good there. That's universal. He's losing the plot— getting lost in the sauce— of trying to sound like he's saying something, to the point where he's losing the entire meat of the message."

"Maybe," said Cairo. "But you said one of your books was If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. Not exactly the height of literature."

"And I stand by that," You said. "That's actually enjoyable. You don't enjoy reading this, you enjoy being clever enough to read this, when it's saying something you've heard a million times in a million more decipherable ways. And those ways end up being more beautiful, too.”

"Perhaps," she said. "Or maybe I think the writing is beautiful."

"Well then, I think you're crazy."

"You're welcome to do that," Cairo replied, smile still wide. "You probably will."

===+++===

You managed not to cave until a warmer day, about a week after that. Cairo Sweet had previously been a sweet exterior with absolutely nothing on the inside for you to feel a deep pull towards. Only now, after slowly becoming comfortable, was the magnetic pull becoming physically painful.

Winnie had been absolutely beside herself, miffed at Cairo coming down and swiping you for herself. For a friend or for something more, it didn't matter. You were indisputably hers. And after a life of belonging to no one, you thought maybe Cairo took some sort of glee over making you belong to her.

Class was boring, Mr. Miller was fine, your mom seemed to be doing better, and school seemed to drone on. So when you came back to Cairo's house like normal, you were entirely unaware of how quickly you would fail your mission.

You were barely in door before she was running down the stairs, and the look of worry and surprise in your face only worsened when she got so up close to you, just for a second, and then just as hungry and hurriedly as before, kissed you with a brutal ferocity.

You were taken aback. Something was off. You pulled your head away and Cairo's palms pressed to your cheeks, thumbs brushing against the side of your face. She pulled you back and you had to turn your head away. "Cairo, what—"

"Shut up for once, please. Just kiss me the way a girl wants to be kissed."

You could feel every neuron telling you to get away from her. This was exactly what you had said you didn't want. And then there was the other side of you. The one that wanted to take her right then and then. You swallowed.

"I can't do these kinds of connections, Cairo. I told you."

"That's fine," Cairo rushed, her hand resting on your shoulder blade now. "I need one thing from you, and that's it. I don't ask for much, but I really need this."

Your eyebrows furrowed at her. "What are you talking about?"

"You've said you don't want anything, and okay, that’s fine. At least give me your body for the night. No strings attached.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I don’t owe you anything, you don’t owe me. We just do whatever this is. You make me feel good, and that’s it.” Her fingers had slithered back up to your hair, scratching gently at your scalp in a way that pulled your focus.

It just took a final glance at her face, for the dam to break. Her cheeks were a dusty red, eyes dilated and staring at you, and though you cursed yourself and your idiot Cro-Magnon mind, your palms went to her legs, tugging her up harshly and wrapping her legs around your waist.

“Shit,” you muttered, highly aware this was probably a bad idea. Cairo wrapped her arms around your neck, kissing you with a smile, and then once that broke, a passionate fervour. It was so much but it was so good. You carried her like that, up the stairs to her room, throwing her down on the bed.

She flipped you over, sitting on your lap like she had been back when the both of you first tried this, and it was all too intoxicating. Cairo’s hands went to your shoulders, pushing you back against the mattress before she leaned over, kissing you softly for a moment until it grew into more.

“Wait—” You said, and Cairo sat up, glaring at you.

“You did not get me all the way up here just to back out now,” said Cairo, annoyed beyond belief. You shook your head, tugging her back onto you. Her hair fell around you like a shield to your little private moment.

“I’m not backing out,” you promised, whispering because you felt like you didn’t want to be too loud. “I mean I’ve never … before.”

Cairo smiled at you, looking into your eyes for a moment. “Me neither,” she whispered back.

“Really?” you asked. Cairo raised her eyebrows.

“Fuck you.”

“No,” you shook your head, hand reaching up to move some of her hair out of her face. That wasn’t how you meant it. “…Really?”

She paused, eyes boring into yours. Then she gently nodded, and lowered herself down onto you, placing her lips on yours for another divine moment. It was all too hot in there. She let out a gasp when you tugged down her skirt.

===+++===

It was about five weeks after you had arrived, and you had gone to Cairo's house almost every week day, to continue exactly what had latched around your throat and tugged you harshly towards her.

There, in the milky white lighting of Cairo's table lamp, with her body snugly laying back against you and her book out in front of her, you fell in love for the first time. Really, fell in love.

Not the kind of "love" that swirls around your head as a child and wraps around the leg of the pretty girl in your class who has shiny hair. That kind of “love” where you can't get out a real sentence while talking to her. In comparison to the heavy feeling growing in your chest like a tumour, that was a mild liking.

No, this was the real thing. Adults had always said cryptic things about love, like "when you know, you'll know," and it hadn't ever really made sense, until it did.

As you looked down to watch her nose scrunch from the Nabokov, those three little words took on a whole new meaning. Her dark hair tickled the bare skin of your chest where she laid. Unlike her you still hadn't put your shirt back on, and you shivered a bit, even from under her blanket and her body heat. Her eyes, dark and focused, scanned across the paper, before elegantly flipping past the page with her thumb.

It was one of those renaissance paintings people cried for, in the Louvre, only it was playing out right in front of your eyes. And with that sudden rush of messy emotion, came the dastardly realisation that you were truly fucked.

"You're staring," she said, pulling you from your thoughts. She looked up at you, curious eyes focusing on your own. "What're you staring for?"

You shrugged, the movement shaking her against you. "What's the book you're reading?" You asked. "You seem mad at it."

She hummed, leaving her finger as a bookmark and flipping the cover towards you. The cover read Pale Fire. "That's because it's mostly incoherent rambling," she said. "Makes no sense."

You raised your eyebrows at her. "You don't understand Pale Fire?"

She tilted her head back, challenging you. “And you do?" You nodded. You had written a report during the two months you were in Maine. "Of course you do,” Cairo groaned, rolling her eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked.

Cairo shook her head, patting the side of your leg with her free hand. “Nothing.”

You sat up. “No, seriously. What do you mean?”

She sighed, closing the book around her index finger to hold her page. Cairo shut her eyes for a second, choosing her words carefully. “I mean... you’re annoyingly clever at something you don’t really care about.”

You laughed. "Careful, Sweet. If I didn't know any better I'd say you're jealous."

"Well, I am," said Cairo. "I care about writing so much, and here you come along with literally no passion for it, and you're out-writing me."

"Uh, sorry?" You said with a smile. But the frown you saw on her face told you she wasn't really joking. Cairo scoffed, sitting up and turning towards you.

"No, I'm serious. You barely even try and you spill some amazing few paragraphs, and Mr. Miller loves you like you're his favourite student," she lamented, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"I promise," you sighed, "that I really don't mean to. I don't get it either, so—"

"—See, but that's what's so frustrating!" She cut you off. "You don't mean to. You don't mean to get in my way, but you do because you're so unbelievably perfect at everything, and Mr. Miller loves you so much."

"Okay, wait a minute," you said. "That's not fair."

"What's 'not fair' is me working my ass off until senior year to get to do what I've ALWAYS wanted to do, WRITE, and then you come along and pull all the praise and probably the recommendation letter too!"

You sat there for a moment, taking her words in, your mouth open in surprise. There had always been an inkling that Cairo was unhappy with having you in her class, but you had drowned the thought out with her lips on yours and treasuring every moment you made her smile with something stupid you said.

You cleared your throat and Cairo was already apologising. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," she said, reaching towards you. "It's just so important to me, I get really worked up..."

"It's fine," you rushed. You knew people screamed and said nasty stuff when they were mad. It's just how people were, and it made sense to you. Your mom was like that too, with the yelling and stuff. "Do you..." you mumbled, trying to figure out how to solve her problem. "Do you want me to stop trying?" You asked.

Cairo's eyes lit up within an instant at the idea. "That would be amazing," she breathed. "Thank you so much." She reached across the space between you, kissing with a softness that hadn't previously been there. It was sweet, just like she was, and you breathed a sigh of relief, with the confrontation being over.

You nodded. "Sure." Then your gaze went out the window, realising the sun was starting to set and rain clouds were starting to form. Your hand flew to your leg, having forgotten you were only in your underwear.

"You left it downstairs, remember?" Cairo said, almost playful. When the two of you had gotten to her house, her lips had been so firmly ravaging your neck that your pants hadn't even made it up the stairs before she tugged them off and flung them to the marble bust that stood nearby. You sighed.

"Do you know what time it is?" You asked, getting up from the bed and around to the other side to pick your shirt up off the floor. Cairo also got up, throwing the sheets off herself and walking right over to her closet.

"No, I left my phone at school on accident," she replied, opening the door and flicking through the hangers. You pulled the shirt on over your head and fixed the soft collar. On the opposite side of the room, Cairo pulled out the same cream-coloured dress she had been wearing when you first came to study with her. You paused.

"You're getting all fancy?" You asked, turning to her floor mirror and attempting to fix your absolutely messy hair in a way that it wouldn't be clear Cairo had run her hands through it and gripped on tight.

"Mhm," Cairo said. "Having a guest over tonight."

"Oh. They work with your parents or something?" You said, turning to watch her with curiosity over her answer. Cairo pulled off her shirt so that she was now completely naked. She turned back to you with a smile.

"Do you like what you see?" said Cairo, and it made you blush a bit. You nodded.

"You're absolutely beautiful," you said. If you weren't worried about getting home before dinner, you would have walked right over to her and tugged her back into her bed. Cairo waved you off.

"You're too kind," she said. "Now run on home, lover boy." Cairo disappeared into the bathroom with the dress in her hand, and you heard her rustling around with the sink, probably doing her makeup.

"I... I guess I'll see you, then," you said, left alone in the room.

"Mhm," she called from the bathroom. You frowned, but did a final scan for anything you needed to take before heading out her bedroom door and down the stairs, to where your jeans were clumsily thrown over the Roman statue's head. You tugged your phone and keys from the pocket.

"Fuck," you cursed. Only around thirty minutes to get the whole way across town to your house before your mom started worrying. You walked right over to the door... only to find it was also pouring down rain, now. Dammit. You tugged on your jacket from where it had been hanging on a steel coatrack by the door, pulling the hood up.

You walked out onto the porch, shut the door behind you, and took off running, going as fast as you could down the garden and then up the street into the woods. You got about a hundred metres from her house, that was, until you stopped.

Driving right past you, barely able to see him in the storm, was Mr. Miller. Driving right to Cairo's house in his little sedan. You froze, stopping dead in the rain to watch him go. Even after his license plate retreated in the distance, you felt a sickening sense of dread begin to pool in your gut, one that was already tarnishing your prior bliss.

===+++===

part three perhaps? i also have a tara carpenter one in the works and a lorraine day that's mostly done so hopefully i'll be updating more frequently

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #miller's girl #letorip #jenna #jenna ortega imagine

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amandav09 · 6 months

Text

COD-Sut up challenge

hello everyone! Yes I’m still alive

Summary : For this post I had the idea to use the challenge in which a child says "shut up" to his mother (with the accod of the parent) to see the reaction of the father

Warming : Very slight sexual incinuation, implied violence

Word count :8,5k

Gif not mine - I speak bad English and I am dislexyque, so sorry for the inconvenience

Ghost

Simon sat quietly in front of his computer. Her son ran into the living room, while you drop your husband a tea, you kiss his forehead and send a quick look at your son, the signal.

«(N/B) Stop running please» you hide somehow the phone that filmed the reaction of Ghost.

«Shut up mom»

The reaction is immediate, Simon grabs the arm of (N/B) to stop him in his race and gives him the most severe look.

"What did you just say?"

“Simon…” You step in and tell him it was a joke. But he cuts you before you continue.

“No one in this fucking house disrespects you. Even outside, no one has the right”

Simon’s grip was not strong, his cold tone was enough to bring anyone to attention.

«Luv, darling, it’s a joke» I smile gently to him showing my phone

He frowns and lets go of your son’s arm. His gaze fixed in your eyes «Run»

You wasted no time and ran fast, your husband on your heels while your son laughed in the background.

Konig

Konig dried the dishes while you sat on the couch. Your daughter sat in the seat in front of you. She was smiling and waiting for you to start. Your phone hiding behind a cushion and turned towards the kitchen door

«Honey, did you clean your room today?» You say loud enough for Konig to hear

Your daughter does not answer and puts her hand on her mouth to prevent herself from laughing.

«Mom asked you a question, luv» Gently said Konig while continuing his task. From the kitchen, he had no visibility on your daughter waiting for the right moment.

"So (N/G)? Did you make your room?" I repeat my question with an thumbs up.

«Shut up mom» Can she say, the most serious voice possible

You’ve never seen Konig turn so quickly towards you

«kleines Herz (little heart) comes here» Your daughter gets up and goes to see her father. Konig lowers himself to his height and takes his little hand «You must not speak like that, your mother and I love you with all our heart, but respect goes both ways...» He would continue to gently correct your daughter, but frowned as he saw her try to stop laughing. Slightly bewildered, he looked at you. His only response was your loving gaze, and when he looked down, he saw the phone half hiding behind a cushion.

“Oh. So you gang up against me?” He quickly got up and grabbed your daughter and put her under his arm. She struggles laughing while her father quickly approaches you. He grabbed you before you could do anything and put you on his shoulder «meine beiden Töchter (my two daughters) enjoys teasing me? I’m going to have to take revenge!" He says happily as he heads to the bathroom.

“You won’t dare?” You try to get off his shoulder and understand what he was going to do.

“You really want to test me meine Liebe (my love)?” He put you both in the bathtub and took the shower head «Last words to say?»

Your daughter tried to echo her father between two laughs, but he lit the water on you two «We will see if you will still want to make jokes next time» He says in a proud tone

Price

He was in his office filling out paperwork, his door was open.

You enter by straightening your coat, your phone hide in the outer pocket of your coat.

“(N/G) Come kiss your dad before I take you to school” I tell my daughter when she walks by the door.

«Shut up mom» She says without stopping to walk

You look at your husband who continued to write quietly, as if he had heard nothing

“You don’t say anything?” You ask.

Without even looking up from his papers, John answers: «One, we educated our daughter well, she would never say that. Two, I heard you laughing and whispering in his room, not even 10 minutes ago. And three...” He finally looks up at you, with a smile on his lips «You have hidden your phone very badly» He nods to your pocket where the phone was on the verge of falling «Well tried anyway, my love»

Makarov (I know, I know. Already the idea that he has a wife is impossible, so to have a child... But let me dream!)

He was on the phone with Yuri, a paper in his hand and pacing in the living room. You were putting wood in the fire because of the cool Russian

«(N/G) you can give me this log please?» you made an expres to put a log quite far from you. Your daughter was right next door and was reading a book, waiting for the right moment.

«Shut up mom» You often found that your daughter resembled her father, and while she said this sentence with the most neutral look possible, it confirmed the thing.

Your gaze turned to your husband who had a cold face and eyes turned to his daughter

«I’ll call you back later Yuri» He didn’t wait for an answer and hung up «What did you say to my wife?» He asked, the cold tone "As far as I know, you were not educated like that. Apologize quickly."

“Why would I do it?” (N/G)

“Because before it was your mother, it was my wife, and it still is. No one disrespects her. No one disrespects you either.” He said to her, “You must respect the people who deserve it. And your mother is the person who most deserves your respect.”

"My love." Step in. His head turns to you, his gaze slightly less cold, "It’s a joke."

He takes a slight breath and closes his daughter’s ears

“I’m going to make you regret this when she goes to bed.”

A shiver of excitement runs through you. You’ll probably have to find an excuse to explain why you’ll have trouble walking the next day.

Graves

Phillip was doing push-ups in the living room, you were sitting on his back, the strength he always amazed you.

Your son entered the living room.

“Cheri, can you grab my book, please?” I wink at him. Your son nods and takes an innocent face.

Shut up mom

Graves stop while he was going to chain another pump

“I should have put on a condom.”

You give him a little blow to the head for his comment. He laughs at that, then continues his push-ups. You thought he wasn’t gonna say anything else, but he called your son

«Apologize quickly before I ask Mom to get off my back»

«Pardon» said your son in you a little smile

«Well, now give him his book, and I don’t hear you talking like that anymore»

I run my hand through Phillip’s wet hair

«It’s a joke, my love»

He stops again, his body a few centimeters from the ground. He leaned slightly to his right to make you fall on your back, the soft carpet receiving your body. And before you can straighten up, Phillip is on top of you, "So you’re trying to get our son to prank me?" He smiles.

"No?" His smile grows even more when he sees your weak attempt.

"I will find revenge, darling, and ohhh, believe me, you will regret it."

Rudy

That poor baby just woke up when he heard your son say that.

You and your son had waited machiavelly for him to enter the kitchen

Hearing this quickly woke him up. He put his hand on his son’s shoulder

"Did Uncle Alejandro teach you to talk like that?" He had to yell at his best friend several times for the words he used while your son was nearby

He favors discussion when there is a conflict (except with Alejandro), in addition, it is with a child, and the child in question is his. He wants to resolve this quickly and efficiently.

«Yes» Your son decides to involve his uncle in the joke, and you must restrain yourself so as not to laugh and to pray for this poor man who has nothing to do with it.

«Apologize to mom» He caresses the boy’s head «And don’t talk to him like that anymore, mom is the woman of our life, we shouldn’t speak badly to him» He says softly. Then he takes out his phone

"What are you doing?" You’re frowning.

«I must speak to Alejandro» You could feel the anger emanating from him little by little

Before you could tell him it was a joke. He was already out in the garden

You quickly pick up your phone and send a message to Alejandro: «Sorry»

A few minutes later. Rudy comes back sighing, he takes you in his arms and puts his head on your shoulder

"Why do I feel like we have two children and not one?" You gently run your hand through her hair

Your phone vibrated and when you read the message, you took note to offer a box of chocolate to Alejandro

“I hate you ರ╭╮ರ”

Alejandro

Your husband held you in his arms while you were making breakfast. Your 7-year-old son enters the kitchen while your 5-year-old daughter was already sitting at the table.

“(N/A), did you pack for school?”

Your son, with whom you prepared this farce, slowly walked to the table.

Shut up mom

Alejandro did not even have time to react that your daughter got up and shook her big brother by the t-shirt.

“Never talk like that to Mom!” Your husband quickly grabbed your daughter to keep her away.

«My baby is a joke» I say quickly. (N/B) Laugh at his sister’s reaction while Alejandro always held your sulky daughter in his arms

«She has your character» You smiled at your husband who made a grimace in agreement.

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #konig x reader #price x reader #john price x reader #makarov x reader #rudy parra x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #graves x reader

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mummydommythe3rd · 18 days

Text

BLACKMAILED PART 1/3

I watched the latest video you sent me and laughed as I typed out my response.

"Good! That's enough practice! Now altogether! Do a curtsey, showing the bulk of your diaper, say 'Oh, I have to make poopies!', crouch down, and then smile into the camera and say 'Making Poopies make me so horny!' Then you can release your enema. God it? Go!"

A few minutes later I got the perfect video back. I had to hold back a laugh as I watched you humiliate yourself.

I hadn't even meant for it to go this far, but you were so gullible and easy to convince. When I first saw your profile on that kink site, and saw that one of your listed kinks was 'blackmail'...the plan had been growing and taking shape in my mind.

I messaged you and you informed me that you wanted to be blackmailed into doing all kinds of sexy things, whatever I wanted. Luckily for me 'sexy' is a very broad term that can describe many things to lots of people...including diapers.

The first thing I did was ask you your address and the numbers of a few people close to you. After all, is it even a blackmail kink if there's no danger?

After that, the tasks started easily enough. 'go suck your dildo and send me the video.' then it was 'wear a pair of panties'. It was somewhat of a challenge since you were still living at home, but soon I had you jerking off in your 'borrowed' panties, and fucking yourself with increasingly larger dildos.

Then I sent you your first package of diapers. You tried to rebel, you said this was too far...but I just responded with: "lol, stop fussing and go put on your diaper... Unless you want your mom to watch a fun video of you licking your jizz from her panties." You, of course, crumbled like a ball of dry sand.

From there it only got worse and worse for you. DIapers, latex dresses, all kinds of gags and restraints. I could just picture you panicking and rushing to beat your family to snatch away a package and sequester it away in your room before anyone else could notice the many packages you were receiving.

Last week though, I got drunk and decided to message you something I would have never sent sober.

"Blackmailing you under social pressure is getting kind of old. Wouldn't legal pressure be so much more fun? Why don't you go do a crime for me. That way I know you'll always be mine."

"WHAT?! I CAN'T DO THAT!" you responded immediately.

"You have 48 hours to get me ten grand from your work or I'll send all your videos to your parents, your friends, and everyone else you've ever met."

the three dots showed you typing something, but I just turned off my computer and went to bed. To be honest I completely forgot about it. I was so drunk that my memories of the night were pretty hazy. The app we used didn't allow screenshots, and the texts were automatically deleted within an hour, so how was I supposed to remember? The only evidence of any of our interactions was the large folder of videos and pictures you'd sent me.

My memory only came back when you texted me again "I have the money. Management is pissed AF but they have no idea who did it. Please don't make me do that again!"

I immediately remembered everything and why I wanted you to get that money. I was just shocked that you'd actually gotten it!

"That's great baby! Now send me a video admitting to the theft. Tell the camera how you stole it because you were thinking of all the pretty diapers and dildos that much money could buy. Be cute! Girly! Bubbly!"

You left the message on read for a while. I could picture you anxiously pacing your room, freaking out at how far this had all gone.

"You have two minutes for a convincing confession...or your family and friends are going to learn a lot about you very quickly."

The video came soon after. As I'd trained you, you burbled and smiled like a ditzy baby-bimbo, describing the sizes and pretty colors of diapers you could get, and how you could now get all the dildos you could ever want. More crucially, you admitted to the theft, and even showed the money you'd taken.

All of that had led up to now. I smiled as I watched your latest video with the volume muted. your face was childishly wrinkled as you filled your diaper with the massive enema.

I almost didn't send the next message. It was almost too mean, but I couldn't resist. I had to see how far this could go.

"Good girl! Now, dressed just as you are, I want you to walk into whatever room your family is in right now."

"BUT I'VE DONE EVERYTHING YOU ASKED!!" you screamed via text.

"I'm not sending them anything!" I stated.

"WHY! PLEASE! I'LL DO ANYTHING!"

"You sure will! 😂 you're going to walk in there and admit to being a pathetic little baby, and you're going to beg on your hands and knees that they convert your bedroom into a nursery."

"I CAN'T DO THAT!"

"Sure you can. Beg, cry, and scream like a toddler if you have to...I have a feeling you'll be crying anyway, so you might as well use it to get your nursery."

You started to type something multiple times, but there was nothing to say, so I sent another message.

"You're going to show them that money. You're going to tell them you saved up all of it just for this nursery. Show them pictures of other adult baby nurseries. Babble excitedly about cribs, changing tables, high chairs, dresses, dollies, stuffies...THE WORKS! You're to insist on 24/7 diapers and chastity because you just can't resist blowing your little loads into your pampers. Maybe later when you're desperate you can beg your sister-in-law to hook you up with a bull and let a real man fuck you."

"PLEASE NO! PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU!"

"You're going to do it all, or everyone gets everything. In addition to being outed as a Huggies-humping little pervert, you'll be a felon. There's really no choice at all for you, is there?"

"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!"

"I believe everyone should live their honest true lives. You're a pathetic baby-dicked little pervert, and now you get to live like it!"

"I CAN'T!"

"Start a video recording on your phone, then put it in your pocket. Walk into the living room and tell them everything about the life you need. after you send that video tonight, I'll break contact with you for a while.

"You'll be done with me? Really?

"For a bit. Just to give you and your family some time. In a month I'll give you a call. If your phone is disconnected, I'll call your mom and pretend to be an old school friend."

"Why?!"

"To make sure you did your job. If you're not living full-time in a nursery as I've already described, I'll release everything, and you can be a baby in prison instead of a baby with your family."

There was no way out. You knew it. I knew it. There was nothing you could do or say. Even if you only asked for some of the babyish things, I'd eventually be told the truth. Your life was starting over right now, and you had to come to terms with it.

"They'll kick me out of the house! They won't do any of that stuff you want!" You whined.

"You'd be surprised. I bet at least one family member will take great interest in aiding with your transformation."

"My step-sister, maybe, but she hates me! She'll make my life an utter nightmare! Please! What if I do something else even MORE Embarrassing?!?" You begged.

"Good luck. Make sure you ask for hormones too. Time for you to upgrade from those cheap breast forms." I responded curtly, and then turned off my laptop.

I knew what you were doing. You were toddling back and forth in your soiled diaper, cursing me, cursing yourself, wondering how you could have been so stupid, trying to find the nonexistent way out of your literal and figurative mess.

I watched the movie playing on the living room TV and waited.

You walked into the room. Immediately, Mom and my Step-dad looked at you and burst into laughter. I joined them. You didn't notice that my laugh was borne from victory as much as amusement. My mom and your dad both thought this was some prank or joke...some dare that you'd lost. My mom laughed until she was crying while you just stood there, fidgeting and looking at the floor.

You squished forward wincing as the dress squeaked and rustled with your every move.

"Hey step-bro, you've never looked better! It fits you!" I laughed.

You shot me a dirty hate-filled look, then turned to the parents. Your face was bright cherry-red; far redder than I'd ever seen before.

"D-dad....Mom....There's, um, well. Something I need to tell you."

You looked at me with a dagger-laden glance before adding "In private!"

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wolfytoothy · 2 months

Text

it's just a prank

this was recommended by one of my bookie wookies from wattpad.

............

Your day started off normal. Till you had an idea. You got the brilliant idea to prank miles, not to bad, just to test his love is all.While he was still asleep you set up some cameras around the house and pressed record.

You grabbed the main one and quickly went to the car to do the intro. “What is up gang, I am back with another video, and today, I’m gonna be ignoring my boyfriend guys. Now you all know my future husband, I don’t know how he's gonna react but.. Hopefully.. I’ll survive”

After hiding all the cameras, you waited for the victim to wake up. Once he did, the game had started. But you decided to start it off subtle. You put on the noise canceling headphones and acting as if you couldn’t hear anything. You were in front of one of hidden cameras as you pretended to trim the dog's nails.

Miles excited the room with no shirt on and only shorts. Not gonna lie, you nearly folded, but you had to stay stong fr. Miles did his usual, came to you, and kissed you on the forehead and went about his business. You tried your hardest not to laugh but kept the laughter in. “you hungry?” he asked with a yawn, you didn’t respond and ignored him. There was silence for a few seconds and you used the lens of the camera to see his face.

Buddy was in the kitchen getting a few pots and sessioning. After a while miles looked at you waiting for an answer. “Ma” he said not taking his eyes off of you for a second. “Mami,” he said again, then shrugged. He clearly already knew what you wanted. It was like a pattern. After a few minutes you heard a plant hit the table. Then the door closed. You waited a sec to make sure he wasn’t trolling you then got up. You saw your usual order, and since you were hungry you gobbled it right up.

Your lovely idiotic, dence boyfriend was in the shower. You took the opportunity to get yourself ready. You setted up a camera in the bedroom then waited patiently. You pretend to do some editing on the computer and waited for 1 hour.

When he came out fully dressed it took all of your soul not to look.

“Do you wanna come to the gym with me?” he asked, looking at you. You did a quick side eye and stayed quiet. “Ma… mama…..n/n” he called out, utterly confused on why you weren’t responding. He went to your side on the bed and poke your cheek. “Yo,you good” he asked,squeezing your cheeks to try to get a reaction out of you. Then he pinched your nose making you slap his hand away in response. “What's up with you?” he said kinda weirded out as he stopped.

Miles assumed you weren’t feeling your best and decided to leave you alone before you get physical (yes he speaks from experience).

He left without a word, making you feel bad that you ignored him like that. After a couple of hours he finally came back. You tried your best to avoid him so you had a good reason to so you wouldn't feel so bad. “n/n” he called out as he came into the room and put down a box of donuts. It was your favorite of course. You lay in bed next to you and turned on the TV. Resting his head on your lap. You couldn't even think of moving.

Again after a few minutes. He looked up at you.”mi mamá preguntó si quieres las notas” (my mom asked if you want the notes)

You were about to respond but remembered. Instantly Miles knew something was up, cuz you would have said something.

You loved playing with him like this all the time.

And it didn’t take long for him to spot the camera hidden in the pile of clothes. You sat up a bit and looked straight at it. Then smirked. He layed in your lap again then grabbed you cheeks, squeezing them. As he did, he said. “Tres pececitos se fueron a nadarEl más pequeñito se fue al fondo del marVino un tiburón y le dijo: "ven acá""No, no, no, no, no porque se enoja mi mamáSe enoja mi mamá, se enoja mi mamáNo, no, no, no, no porque se enoja mi mamá” he sang in a little baby voice.

The song he was singing was one of the nursery rhymes you would put on for your baby nephew when y’all were babysitting him.

It took some much out of you not to laugh. He continued to squeeze your cheeks making the same duck face you were and chuckling.

“No, no, no, no, no porque se enoja mi mamá” he repeated but a little slower. You finailly bursted out in laughter and caved in. “Ahhh, I got you to laugh,” he cheered. “You thought you slick, I see the camera in the laundry goofy, don’t play,” he laughed

#miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles #e.42 miles #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles fluff #miles morales x reader #atsv prowler #earth 42 prowler #miles morales prowler #YouTuber reader

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flowershines · 3 months

Text

Never leaving you

Sim Jake x F! Reader

Summary: Character and reader have been in a secret relationship but as things have gotten more serious they find more and more that their family would do anything to keep the character and reader away from each other. (Rival families: Forbidden love)

Warnings: Smut, cockwarming, family rivals, talking bad about Y/n, humping, teasing, gagging, eating Y/n out, (lmk if I missed any)

Not proof read

“Can’t you just trust me?”

“You and I both knew that when we started dating, things weren’t going to work out.” The anger in his face started to build up, “What the hell are you talking about, Y/n?” he said walking closer to you. “My family doesn’t like Sim’s and your family doesn’t like L/n’s.” Reaching the edge of the bed you took a seat, “So, it shouldn’t matter.” he exclaimed rather loudly “Why are you yelling at me, I was just saying.” His fingers ran through his hair, “Because your pissing me off, Y/n.” you got up from the edge of his bed and headed towards the door of his bedroom. “Where are you going?” He huffed “Once you chill then we can talk about this again.” he walked over to you and grabbed your wrist tightly as he pulled you back to the bed, “No, we are talking about this now.” you rolled your eyes. “What’s the point if your just going to yell at me?”

Just then the sound of his front door opening surprised you both, he turned to you and put his hand over your mouth as he pointed to his bed then down. You understood what he meant, following his instructions you kneeled on the floor then looked up at him as he quietly walked over to the other side of his bed, getting on your stomach you scooted more further under his bed. “Jake, honey, you in there?” Your breathing started to shake from the nervousness of being caught, “Yeah, come in.” as the door opened you held your breath not wanting anyone to hear your anxious breathing. “I just came to get the computer, sweetie.” The sound of the footsteps traveled from one end to the other, “Mom, I have a question.” You thought to yourself that he better not be saying something stupid, “Yes?” “Why do you guys hate the L/n’s?” a sign was heard as the footsteps stopped at the side of his bed. “Jake you and I both know how much pain they put our family in, they are terrible people.”

“But that was years ago.” Nothing was heard for a couple of seconds till his mom broke the silence, “It’s not just that honey, if you want to know more you would have to ask your father. Plus I heard that their kid loves hoeing around with everyone, doesn’t set a good example, and she doesn’t even focus on her studies. Now come on who would want a kid like that.” Those words shattered your heart of course none of them were true but still the fact that, that was how she saw you made you feel useless. “Don’t say that about her, I met her she’s really pretty, nice and really really smart.” Foot steps were seen walking to his door “Jake you know your lying, don’t stick up for her. She’s a nobody.” the door was shut behind her, you didn’t even bother to immediately scoot out from under the bed. You just wanted to stay there hoping his would all go away, “Y/n?” a whisper was heard from next to you. Your mouth felt dry, your hands were freezing, tears fell down your face, you were a mess.

“I’m just gonna go.” You scooted out from underneath his bed and quickly tried to book it out of his room but a hand was placed around your waist which prevented you from moving forward, “Please can we just talk about this now, they are just stopping by; they’re leaving soon.” you signed but nodded towards him. He brought you back to his bed and had you lay down next to him, a knock was heard from his door making you immediately look around and scoot out of his bed.“I’m changing, what do you need?” From the other side of the door you heard his mother’s voice one more “We are going over your aunts house for a bit, there is money for dinner on the counter. Call us if you need anything.” he responded softly “Okay, love you.” she said she loves him too then her footsteps faded away from his door, as the sound of the front door opened then shut.

“See i’m not even wanted here, you heard the way she was talking about me so what’s the point.” He reached for your hand while he laid on the bed, you reached out your hand and put it on his. He tightened his grip and pulled towards him making you crawl to him on the bed, he opened up his arms and pulled you into a hug as you cuddled laying on him. Feeling him comfort you this way made you start to sob in his arms, his fingers ran through your hair while his other hand was drawing circles on your back. “I love you to much to lose you, Y/n. So don’t even mention anything about us breaking up because i’m never leaving you.” His chin was resting on the top your head, you could hear his heartbeat pound louder and louder with each breath he took.

You backed up and looked at him in the eyes staring into them for a second then pulling him into a kiss, his lips were always so soft and warm. You could just stay like this with him forever or at least till both of your parents found out, just as you were about to pull away from his lips his hand that was playing with your hair snaked down to the back of your neck which pulled you in closer. “Never leave me, please.” He mumbled softly against your lips, you opened your lips slightly and he took the opportunity before him as he stuck his tongue in slightly but not to far in. You loved the way how he knew the things that will rile you up the most, his hands would not leave your body; they would go up and down on your sides and pull you further into the kiss.

He just couldn’t take his hands off you, “So fucking perfect.” yo i backed away from the kiss and got on top of his lap bringing your face into the crook of his neck, hugging him tightly. “You’re so gorgeous, you know that?” You mumbled into his neck “Your parents don’t think so.” he huffed slightly and brought his hand to your hair as he slightly pulled it back bringing your face out from his neck till he can see your face, “It doesn’t matter what they think, I love you and that is all that matters.” the hand on your hair loosened as both of his hands fell to your hips. His hands pushed you more down onto his lap and made your hips move in a back and forth motion, you hummed quietly in his ear. “I can show you just how much I love you.” You nodded on his shoulder as you agreed to the comment he said, the more he moved your hips the more vocal he became.

He started of saying nothing but only breathing moans and shaky breaths left his lips and now an occasional swear would fall from his lips as he started to quietly grunt, moan, and constantly breathe heavily. “Want you inside me, but i just want to relax in your arms.” He looked at you confused you understood why he was confused so you put it into different terms, “I want you to be inside me as we lay here.” he opened his mouth as he nodded. He understood what you meant now, he gave you his approval then you sat up and lifted yourself off of his lap so now you were just hovering over him. You unbuckled his belt and slowly unzipped his zipper causing him to whine from your teasing, he lifted his hips as well as they met yours again which gave you easier access to pull his pants to his knees.

His boxers were tight on him as it gave you the best sight to see, his cock was straining against they begging to come out as your eyes trailed from the base of his cock to the the tip through the fabric you could see a wet spot. Your fingers ran to the spot making him shutter from the touch, as you ran your fingers through it stuck to them. You brought your thumb up to your pointer finger and rubbed them against each other in a circle motion, slowly pulling them apart from one another his precum stuck to both of your fingers creating a line that connected them both.

Your boyfriend could not resist anymore he just really needed to be inside you, he did almost everything to try and take your attention away from teasing him but nothing worked no matter how much he squirmed or how many times his cock would twitch in his boxers, nothing. You brought your fingers to his waist band and pulled them down slowly as it made his cock bounce back up to hit his abdomen, you brought your face down to his cock and licked a strip along from the bottom of the base to the tip. This man was going crazy underneath you as he was now aching to be touched, even the smallest thing set him off as he would squirm beneath you. You put the tip of his cock in your mouth and slid all the way down so that way your spit would act as lube, making it easier for you both.

The further you went down the more you would gag on him, but it was for the better each time you gagged because more spit would form in your mouth as it ran along the side of his cock. “Fuck.” He said dragging out the last two letters, you got up from you position and hovered over his cock making sure that it was perfect aligned to slip into you. He rutted up his hips till the almost hit you but you pushed them back down and slowly lowered yourself into him while moans fell from his lips, you laid back down into your pervious position; laying you head back on his shoulder.

His hips slowly started to runt up into you with each chance he got which cause you to pull away from his neck, “What are you doing? Thought you weren’t supposed to move?” he hugged your body pulling you closer “Can’t help it Y/n, you feel so warm and soft. Just wanna fuck you so bad.” you snuggled back into the crook of his neck “A little bit longer.” he huffed as his movements stopped. Whines fell from his lips every time you clenched around him, sometimes it was on purpose and the others his cock would twitch inside you which would cause you to clench on him. At this point he didn’t even care about anything else he just needed to find pleasure for himself, “Please Y/n, it’s killing me.” he whined. “You’re so dramatic.”

You mumbled against him, “How much longer?” you lifted your head up to his ear and whispers “Fine, go.” he immediately lifted up your hips with his hips and held you in place as he fucked up into you. His thrusts weren’t slow they were fast but filled with love, you loved to tease him it was your favorite thing to do to him. Of course he has a hard time accepting that but he goes along with it because if your happy he’s happy, his arms were wrapped around you giving you a bear hug as his hips were slamming into you. “I love you so much.” He whispered in your ear as you then lifted up your head giving him a kiss on the lips, his face showed just how flustered he was.

His cheeks turned a light pink that ran from one side of his face to the other, his fingers started to turn white from how hard he was hugging you, his thrusts became more shaky you could tell his legs were giving out. You tried to sit up and struggled a bit from how hard he was hugging up but you did manage to break free from his grip, you tapped on his knees and pushed down his hips. His moans sounded like heaven, a melody that ran through one ear and out the other, his lips were glossy from the spit of him constantly putting his bottom lip in between his teeth.

You placed your legs in a more comfortable position and proceeded to go up and down on his cock while his hands rested on your hips making you slam down onto him harder than before, he always loved it when you rode him because he would see such a beautiful sight; your tits bouncing in front of his face. He wanted to suck on them but to be able to suck on them he would have to sit up while his hands could not leave your sides, “Fuck, Fuck.” he chanted multiple times. “Oh my fucking god Jake, feel so good.” You say sitting on his lap grinding back and forth on him, looking down at him you see his head was thrown back into the pillow, his mouth was open, his brows were knitted together, and his eyes rolled back the more you moved. He was in the most ultimate pleasure.

His cock twitched more with every bounce or grind you did on him, his hands squeezed your hips while he tried to meet your strokes by thrusting up. “I’m gonna c-” His words were cut off as his orgasm already reached him, he pushed up further into you as he came down from his high. Pulling out he saw his cum dripping from your pussy and he swore he could cum again just from the sight, “You didn’t cum?” he asked sounding disappointed in himself. “It’s not a big deal I can just-” “No, no, no Y/n. You made me cum and I didn’t make you cum. Please sit on my face.” He never asked you to do this before and you started to overthink and decline his request. “Jake seriously i’m okay, I don’t need to cum.”

He sighed as you got off from his lap and laid down next to him only for him to trail kisses down from your stomach to your entrance, “But just imagine, you tugging on my hair as my tongue slides in deeper into you. grunts Fuck. I would still be able to taste my cum in you.” His hips started to grind on the bed just front the idea, “Fine, but be fast.” “But I want you to enjoy it.” you stared into his eyes “I will as long as I get to cum, the faster the better and more time for us to hang out before your parents come back.” He nodded as he started to kiss your inner thighs while his fingers started to slip into your entrance one by one, he started to grind on the bed to the pace his fingers were going. He brought his lips to your clit giving it a kiss before he strayed to suck on it while looking up at you, his fingers were quickly moving in you. His tongue trailed from your clit to your entrance as he took his fingers out and moved them to one your clit as he started to create a circle motion.

This man was literally a god, he knew exactly what to do with your body and ways to make you cum very easily. You felt yourself getting closer to your orgasm each time his tongue would curl inside you, your hand snaked down to his hair as he continued to stare up at you. You played with his hair and tugged on it as he did multiple tricks with his tongue, he would moan into your pussy from the stimulation of him humping the bed. Feeling or orgasm come closer and closer the grip on his hair became tighter and tighter, his tongue started to move way faster than it did before as well as his fingers focusing on your clit.

“Jake-e fuck, i’m gon-” Your sentence was cut of as your orgasm hit you while he still continued his motions helping you through it, letting go of his hair he sat up and brought his fingers to his mouth “You taste so fucking good, next time I want you to sit on my face. Fucking suffocate me with your pussy, I love eating you out so much.” you looked down and said “Clearly.” his eyes followed yours which lead to his squirts of cum on the bed where he had been humping it prior. “I couldn’t help it.” He said crawling back up next to you on the bed as he laid on your stomach, he mumbled on your stomach. “I love you don’t ever forget that, and it doesn’t matter if our family doesn’t like each other. I’ll be with you through everything.”

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