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#i didn't even know there were other colors it's not like anyone TELLS YOU THIS SHIT
zippidi-dooda · 3 days
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"What are you?" You asked fearfully, staring into the bright, dual colored eyes of the thing that tripped you.
"Hehe, you fall so easy, Shrimpy!" The cheerful creature chirped. Half his teal body was propped up by his arm across the sand while the other half splashed in the ocean waves.
On his lips there was a wide smile that revealed a gleaming set of razor sharp teeth.
"What are you?" You repeated more firmly.
The being swished his tail, splashing up mini waves behind him. "You're a long way from home, ya know. Only the sailors and merchants come out this far."
You pursed your lips, thinking of how to explain yourself.
It's true normal folk don't normally come out past the city walls, there was no real need too. But you had to come here. There was no way you'd spend another minute trapped on that small island with all the same people that you know all the mundane details and traumas of.
Just hijack a small ship with some food and supplies and you were out before anyone noticed you were missing.
Though, you couldn't just tell this thing that.
So you countered with, "Aren't you too? A long way from home I mean."
The creature laughed and pulled himself closer, dragging himself forward using only the strength of his upper body.
The serpent-like agility was very unusual and rather frightening. With a slight squeak, you crawled back, bumping into a rock.
"S-stay back!"
"Aw! Are ya scared, Shrimpy?"
"I swear, you stay back or I'll ... I'll ...."
"I'd like to get in a fight with a real human so do me a favor and give me all you got, hm."
You swallowed slowly, eyes bulging as you watched him.
The smile fell from his face and he let out a sigh. "You're so boring."
Now it was your turn to frown. "You aren't so fun yourself, you know."
"Say, what do you guys wear all those clothes for? They're the reason so many of you drown so fast."
"They're ... for modesty."
"They're stupid."
You narrowed your eyes at him. "Listen here, Mister, not everyone can afford to have scales and fins to cover our bodies. Clothes help us stay warm when it's cold and are a symbol of one's status."
"Haha, you guys can't even keep warm? Humans are so weak." The creature reached for the brown bag haging across his chest, pulling out a rusted fork. "What's this?"
"Huh?"
"What do you use it for? Jade thinks it's for your hair but that doesn't sound right to me."
"It's ... for when we eat. We pick up food with it."
He laughed and reached for something else. "You guys do too much. What's this one for?"
You reached for the small pipe he held, brushing off some soot. "I'm not sure you could use it all drenched like this, but people use it to, uh, to smoke."
"What's that mean? To smoke?"
You brushed your hands on your shirt and stood up. "Well, it's certainly been ... a day, meeting you. But I need to get going now. Good da-"
"Wait! You can't go now," the creature gripped onto your ankle to prevent your leaving. His grip was vicelike compared to when he tugged to trip you earlier. "You have things to show me."
"Like what?"
He released your ankle and proceeded to dump the contents of his bag at your feet.
"I really don't have time for this-"
"But you have to! I didn't come all this way just to see a human walk away." The being crawled up to your height, pulling himself up by bunching the fabric of your clothes.
You struggled under his weight and held him as best you could, without recoilling from the slimy feel of his skin.
"Okay, okay! I'll-I'll come back tomorrow to answer whatever weird questions you have. Just get off me."
You propped him against the rock behind you and backed away, brushing your clothes back into place.
"You're not gonna come back."
"What? O-of course I am."
"Promise?"
Briefly, you looked over your shoulder at the walled city you were trying to leave behind. Then to the not so far distance where boats swayed near the shore, waiting for their tether to be cut and released beyond the horizon.
You should have left the island sooner.
"... I'll be out here again."
"You better." He grinned. "Or else I'll have to come get you myself."
***
The next few days you spent going to that same corner of the island, meeting with the (what you now know to be) merman whose name was Floyd, and telling him everything he wanted to know about anything. And missing your golden opportunity to leave in the process.
You should have left the island sooner.
Not that he cared. All he wanted was to learn about the "goofy" things humans had created. He was just as interested about the land as your people were about the sea, even if he didn't care all too much about you humans.
He really want shoes but without feet to wear them he could only voice his longings, playing with the end of his tail mindlessly.
He had made you tell him everything you knew about land and begged you to bring him little knickknacks and tell him in full detail how they were used.
You may have gotten tired of his whining and relented to bringing him things from your home, ignoring the comments made about "Hey, this thing went missing, it was here a second ago" as you left the house.
Today, you brought a small dish decorated in dotted mushrooms. It was really a statement piece rather than a dish to eat off of so you thought Floyd may be more interested in it compared to a normal dish.
As you walked to your usual spot along the shore, you found a familiar head bobbing halfway above the water.
"You're here early." You stated sitting in front of him.
He watched you silently.
Perhaps he was upset about something. But he often switched from one mood to the next in seconds so you hoped your trinket would help cheer him quickly.
"Look at this," He took the dish from your hands. "Now, it's not as ... mm ... I dunno, interactive? As the other things, but lots of humans have things like this. It's just something to show off."
He swam closer towards you, leaning his upper body against the shore. He smiled brightly.
"To think you'd guess my favorite thing by happenstance. Thank you kindly, I'll be sure to repay you in full one day."
He ... sounded odd.
Maybe he was sick?
"It's fine. Are you ... feeling okay?"
"Just swimmingly."
You forced a smile. Of course he'd say it like that.
"You'll be here tomorrow, same time, yes?" He asked.
Not like you had much of a choice. As quickly as Floyd could become happy, he could quickly become angered and he stated multiple times how much he'd like to squeeze you. You hadn't experienced it much, but his strength was nothing to laugh at. "Yup."
"Good. Azul will be pleased. I'll expect you no later." He smiled at you then vanished into the water.
***
As promised, you arrived on the dot at the usual place and Floyd was waiting patiently.
Upon seeing you, he smiled and waved you over. "There you are, I have something for you."
"For me?" You were surprised.
For as long as you had been meeting with him, Floyd had never brought you anything from his home and you never thought he would. So as unexpected as this was, it was a bit touching for you.
He handed you a small, shell shaped vial filled with a lime green liquid.
You smiled. "Thank you."
"Drink it."
You uncorked the top with pop. "You drink things underwater?"
"Sometimes. As different as your and my kind are, we are still similar."
You nodded and took a sip.
Then you immediately gagged. It tasted downright horrendous!
Floyd was quick to lean forward, tilting your head back and pushing the vial back to your lips. "All of it. You wouldn't want anything bad to happen now would you?" He was beaming.
You closed your eyes and scrunched your nose, doing all you could to keep yourself from throwing up.
"There you go. See, not so bad was it?"
You coughed and broke away from him as you took the last drop. "What was that!?"
"Nothing harmful. We've wanted to show you our home as a thank you for your hospitality towards us. Be sure to thank Azul for his gift."
"What?" It was becoming harder to breathe.
Floyd grabbed your hand and began to drag you forward.
"H-hey ... don't ...."
His smile never faltered as he pulled you deeper and deeper into the water. His chuckled rang through your ears and you began to gasp for air.
You tried pulling away. "Fl ... oyd ... I can't ...."
This was bad. If he didn't let go and kept dragging you under, you'd die from lack of air. Why did you ever trust him in the first place?
...
"Open your eyes, you'll miss all the sights."
You opened your eyes.
You could see normally and ... you could still breathe?
The merman swam skillfully, webbed hand holding firmly onto yours.
Everything moved in a blur.
At first, all you saw was an endless blue. But as you swam deeper you saw an ocean of color. Yellows, greens, orange, and everything in between. Swaying seaweeds and branching coral. All sorts of fish swimming merrily, bubbles trailing in their wake.
It was, "beautiful."
"Indeed. I hope you'd like to visit more often."
"Yeah ...," wait, you could talk? "Hey, what was that drink you gave me?"
"A potion to help you breathe underwater. You should adapt here quite nicely."
You began to smile.
Though it tasted god awful, you were glad it gave you the opportunity to see all of this.
You peacefully watched the bright sights all around you.
But then you kept going deeper and deeper until the array of colors turned to dark purples and navy blues, an infinite darkness stretching before your eyes.
Faster your heart began to beat.
"Um, Floyd ... where are we going?"
"Hm? To see Azul. Oh, and I'm not Floyd."
"... what?" Your heart seemed to stop.
Everything was getting darker and you could only look at the merman fearfully. His mismatched eyes seemed to glow dangerously.
You tried to stay calm, your only option was to stick to this creature. You were too far out, way down under, you couldn't see and you had no idea how long this potion would last. If you tried to get away now, you'd surely die.
So you could only hope you weren't lured out here to become a meal.
The creature pulled you alongside him through the gaping mouth of a long dead sea monster, into the pits of its stomach. The light seemed to have been wiped out completely.
You kept away from the bone walls and held the being's hand tightly.
You should have left the island sooner.
Soon, a soft purple light hit your eyes and the sound of jazz music filled your ears.
Instead of a barren expanse filled with bones of past victims, you were led into an elegant room similar to the high end restaurants back home.
Mer-people of all sorts sat at tables, chatting, eating their food, and enjoying the relaxed atmosphere.
This ... wasn't at all what you were expecting.
"Shrimpy!" A familiar voice called.
You were then wrested from the creature beside you into a tight hug from someone who looked exactly like him.
Their tail coiled around you a few times over, the end of it still floating in the water, their grip suffocating.
Then, just as quick as they had grabbed you, they pushed you away, glaring. "Shrimpy! You gave Jade a gift? I thought those were just for me. And it was mushrooms. I hate mushrooms. Why don't you ever get me anything I like?"
"Now, Floyd, it's not up to us if they wish to share with us both. And anyway, I think it's quite endearing."
You looked back and forth between the two. They were the same in every way, shape, and form, the only difference being their mannerisms and voices. Their gray and amber eyes the same, the strand of black hair the same, yet both features mirrored the other like a reflection. It was like you were seeing double.
The one who had brought you here smiled coyly. "Oh dear, they seem a bit shook up."
"Oi, Shrimpy, he's not your favorite is he? It's me, right?"
"... wh-who have I been seeing every day? Was it not 'Floyd?'"
"You've been seeing Floyd. But he's said so much about you that yesterday I couldn't help my curiosity getting the better of me and decided to visit. Floyd, you did mention me to them, didn't you?"
Floyd curled himself around you again. "Don't remember. Jade's not important right now, Shrimpy. You've missed me, haven't you?"
"Come now, Floyd, your dear twin matters much more to you than you've said, yes?"
You looked back and forth between the pair. Your day couldn't get any weirder, could it?
Jade held onto one of your hands. "Azul's been anticipating your visit as well. He's such a needy-I mean, friendly person."
Floyd uncoiled himself from you and held onto your other hand. "Yeah, he was annoying at first, but now he has something he wants from you so he wanted one of us to bring you to him. He's such a pain."
The pair swam you forward, past the tables of guests towards the back of the place. A row of shells and pink seaweed hung like a door in front of you. The twins parted them and pushed you in.
You gulped.
Though not very scary, the room held an intimidating air around it. It was decorated neatly with a large table at the center. There were, what seemed to be, cushioned chairs for you to sit on and behind the table was a large shell shaped opening in the "back wall" of the room.
The room was lightened, but the opening was shrouded. You couldn't tell what was there.
"Come in, come in, my dear. One mustn't lurk in doorways, it's rude." A kind, smooth voice beckoned.
Long, inky tentacles spilled from the crevice, snaking towards the table, attached to a blue eyed man drawing forward.
You gaped for a moment before walking up to the chairs. "Wh-who are you?"
They chuckled, "A bit nervous are you? Don't worry, this is all done with your best interest in mind. Jade, Floyd, go bring our guest something to drink."
"I'd rather not!" You spoke up, thinking of the potion you had drank earlier. "I-I mean no offense, I just ... had some already."
The being hummed then gestured to the chairs. "Take a seat. It must have been quite an adventure getting here. You humans aren't quite built to get this far. But I hope you liked your journey under the sea, I think it is quite lovely here."
In your seat, you nodded slowly.
"Wonderful! Now, let me introduce myself, I am Azul Ashengrotto, I run this place and may I say, I have been quite looking forward to meeting you."
He leaned against the table, "Admittedly, I wasn't thrilled that Floyd ran off during work hours but thinking it over, I believe it is a marvelous thing he got to meet you. Good mer-human relationships are difficult to come by so I'm glad you've been so kind to him."
He filed through the papers on his desk. They glimmered gold.
"He's been kind to you, hasn't he? Jade as well?"
Jade and Floyd smiled.
"You wound me, Azul."
"I ain't interested in hurting Shrimpy yet."
Azul glared at them. "I wasn't asking you two."
"Th-they've been ... fine." You shook your head, "what's all this about?"
"Straight to the point, hm? Then let me explain. I want you to help me out."
"...how?"
Did he want you to tell him what things were like Floyd did?
"Oh, it's simple enough. See, being a human yourself you'd know all the best human cuisine. I'd like to incorporate some of that into my restaurants, us mer-folk are fascinated by your kind, you see, and would love a taste of what your kind loves. I'd do it myself, but I'm afraid paper recipes don't do well in the water and your kind is quite ... unnegotiable when it comes to us approaching you."
He selected a paper and turned it over, sliding it across to you. "Contract," it read.
"If the situation permits it, I'd also like to incorporate other human favorites into my other branches."
You frowned, confused.
"Is that really it?"
"Yes, dear. And in return, I can help you get that freedom your heart so desperately desires."
"How did you-"
"Oh, I can always tell. A gift of mine you could call it. You won't have to stand on that land you know everything about again. I can put you in a place you'd never find all the mysteries to, a place with so much to explore you'll never feel the need to leave. Filled with others you'll never fully know everything about."
You looked up at him. "You can do that?"
"Easily."
Maybe your chance to leave your island hadn't left you yet. You could be free, you could live each day where nothing was the same and you didn't know everything about everyone around you for the rest of your life. And all it would take is telling him how to make what humans like.
Azul handed you a fish bone shaped pen and an inkpot. "You'll have all you've ever dreamed of."
"... what's the catch?"
"Oh no, there's no catch per-say. You may take as long as you need and may choose to go wherever. But, you can't leave until we've perfected everything and you will need to return to me the moment I need to know something else about humans. Business is a long, tedious venture you know, and we can't sell something without high chances of prefecting it everytime. But it'll all be worth it in the end I assure you."
You frowned.
You weren't a professional chef, you couldn't even perfect the meals you knew well most of the time, much less the high end stuff he might be expecting. And regardless of if by chance you did help him perfect it quickly, he could ask for something else anytime you were out exploring the world and you'd have to go right back to him.
Wouldn't be much freedom or exploring would it?
You shook your head and pushed the paper back towards him. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't think I can accept."
"... how unfortunate. I do hope you manage to get where you want to be on time."
You stood up and turned to leave, "And I hope you get ... get to ...," you took a deep breath, "make what ... you need to ... s-soon ...."
You took a step towards the door where Jade and Floyd were still waited beside.
Then you took another breath ... and water filled your lungs.
You choked and quickly covered your mouth. Then you tried to take another breath and water choked you once more
What was happening?
You dropped to your knees.
"Oh dear. Azul? How long did you say that potion would last?" Jade said.
"About an hour. I suppose it does take quite a while to get here. Especially since you couldn't swim as fast with our guest with you, their body wouldn't be able to handle going any faster than you had, and our chat did take up a lot of time."
You tried to keep yourself from coughing and making the situation worse.
"Eh? You told Shrimpy the potion wouldn't last forever, didn't you, Jade?"
"I was so excited to bring them here it must have slipped my mind." Jade smiled "empathetically" at you.
Your lungs tightened. You could barely take it anymore.
"Oh man, Shrimpy's going to die."
"Yes. Another poor, unfortunate soul will be lost to the sea ... unless."
You looked at Azul.
He lowered himself so he was at level with you, contract in hand. "Unless I adjust this contract here to say I'll simply save their life out of the goodness of my heart. The meaning of freedom and saving can be used interchangeably. After all, who doesn't feel free after being saved?"
You nodded desperately, gagging in futile attempts to keep your remaining breaths.
Your skull felt like it was being crushed by a pulverizer.
Three ...
With a tentacle, he dipped the pen in ink. "Though I suppose it'd be better to write a new contract with just that on it since our client here doesn't want this old one. But that'd take far too long, our poor dear would be dead by then."
Two ...
You were freezing with a chill you had never felt before.
Gagging again, you snatched the paper from his hands and reached for the pen.
"Now, now, you must think about this carefully, dear. What if you make a decision you'll forever regret?"
You didn't care anymore, you just wanted to live. You snatched the pen and hastily signed your name.
Azul grinned.
... one ...
Your eyes closed and your body went limp, the contract and pen floating from your hands.
Then, you weren't entirely sure what happened next.
Something had been pressed against your mouth and after a moment you were able to open your eyes, still dazed but feeling normal again.
Floyd had wrapped himself around you, "Yay! Shrimpy, we're gonna be friends down here forever now."
Jade held onto your arm, brushing your hair back gently. "I do hope you don't mind sharing your stories about land with me directly."
Azul stood above you, smile wide as can be, signed contract in his tentacles. He leaned forward, cupping your cheek.
"I'm so glad we were able to come to an agreement my dear. Oh, there's no need to thank me. I look forward to working with you. After all, this contract binds us. For all eternity."
You should have left the island sooner.
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paradoxcase · 2 days
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Gideon the Ninth audiobook, rest of Part 1
One thing you can say for audiobooks, they go faster, especially since I'm not essentially reading everything twice now. But I don't feel like I would retain it in the same way I do when I read visually, if this were the first time through
I am getting used to the pronunciation of "Nonagesimus", as expected
More voices:
Teacher is not at all what I expected, I expected more disconcerting jollity and less creaky old person voice. The nonbinary priest I expected to be more creaky, but their voice is not creaky at all
Cytherea's voice is basically exactly what I imagined, though
Also, Teacher's pronunciation of "Naberius" doesn't match the pronunciation guide here, or the pronunciation in the Dramatis Personae, which is odd
More stuff I noticed:
Aiglamene said, when looking for a sword: "I'm looking for a blade in the style of [Ortus's] great-grandmother's." Is this the great-grandmother who owned Nonius's sword that Ortus was talking about with Abigail in Harrow the Ninth?
Gideon asks "How are you going to get Ortus back, anyway?" and Harrow has a moment where she reacts to that - originally I though this was just reluctance to break it to Gideon that she was replacing him, but I now I think it's that they have gotten the news that the shuttle exploded
Gideon makes a joke that by being Harrow's cavalier she would be responsible for aiding "Harrowhark Nonagesimus's fascist rise to power." But what historical reference does she actually have for fascist rises to power? Nobody remembers WWII anymore. Arguably the only fascist rise to power they have a reference for is John's if you want to label him that way, and certainly none of them objected to that (or, I think, even have much information about it). I don't think this universe has the historical and political depth for a character to be making a joke like this
Aiglamene tells Harrow that if she doesn't free Gideon after attaining Lyctorhood, she would consider it a betrayal, because she's trying to secure freedom for Gideon in order to get her to go along with the plan to go to Canaan House with Harrow. I think this goes a long way to explain why Aiglamene is very angry at Harrow at the end of Nona when she finds out that Gideon died
Harrow says "we're not becoming an appendix of the Third or Fifth House" when talking about why it's important to not reveal the state of the Ninth to anyone. I missed this the first time through, but it's making more sense to me now why Harrow didn't want outside help
Harrow says "I'll mix bonemeal in with your breakfast and punch my way through your gut" which I have seen other people comment on, although I can't remember if I ever said anything about it myself. But my thought is that the reason Harrow was able to conceive of and execute the soup assassination while incredibly sleep deprived was that she had already worked out and finalized the whole plan back on the Ninth when she was coming up with ways to torment Gideon. It was probably just lucky that that plan also turned out to be effective against a Lyctor
I know the sunglasses are mostly a meme, but I'm wondering now why there were sunglasses on Pluto for Gideon to find. That seems like the last place in the universe for there to be sunglasses
The description of Teacher's belt doesn't really resemble the friendship bracelets, I don't think, although it is described as being rainbow colored
The narration says "her legs ran as swiftly as her awful judgement" when Gideon is running to rescue Cytherea, which seems a bit like foreshadowing, since I think on the first readthrough the reader doesn't have a reason to find fault with her judgement here
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htub · 2 years
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Me going into GLTAS: eh i never cared much for GL but I wanna watch it for completition reasons
Me one day later, buying a t-shirt: THIS IS WHO I AM DAD
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plushie-lovey · 9 months
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Thanks to my datemate I was able to find a bunch of valentines day frogs at goodwill yesterday and one pink beanie baby 🥺
#as you guys may know my datemate works for goodwill#he technically isn't supposed to tell me about things to shop for#but he does it anyways#he doesn't always show everything tho! most stuff I find on my own#in faft only one of the frogs I bought were shown to me. the others I discovered mixed in!#I also found a limited edition spring bear from 2007 STILL WITH the pin in its hang tag#bit I didn't get her (yet) because I only had a small bag and was going to work after thrifting#I shoved her to the very bottom of the bin which is packed full of plushies rn#including a lot of massive sized ones. so I don't think anyone's gonna dig her up yet#I might be able to snag her tomorrow if Im right about people not digging#if not then it wasn't meant to be. Im not as in love with her coloring as I am Maple's#who is the autumn bear from the same limited edition collection#They're Build a bears btw#the spring one was in perfect condition just like Maple but even more new because she has all attachments#no outfit tho but most of the time I don't like clothes on my bears#but I thought it was a super cool fibd so hopefully I can get her#but anyways!! the frogs!!#one is pink with magenta polkadots#another is pale green holding a pink heart#the last one is a paler green with a red ribbon around his neck#and he's holding a red heart that says ''I got You Babe“#he has a sound box in him but its thankfully broken#I mostly hate plushies that make sounds#the only exceptions would be Momo (a plush lemur I used to have made by Yoohoo toys that I want to buy again)#and a plush that would be made with a personalized sound (like if my datemate made me a BAB and put a voice message in it)#anything else no ty. the sound box makes the plush uncomfortable to hug#aaanyways#viti shoosh
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emberwhite · 4 months
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I spent the last 11 months working with my illustrator, Marta, to make the children's book of my dreams. We were able to get every detail just the way I wanted, and I'm very happy with the final result. She is the best person I have ever worked with, and I mean, just look at those colors!
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I wanted to tell that story of anyone's who ever felt that they didn't belong anywhere. Whether you are a nerd, autistic, queer, trans, a furry, or some combination of the above, it makes for a sad and difficult life. This isn't just my story. This is our story.
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I also want to say the month following the book's launch has been very stressful. I have never done this kind of book before, and I didn't know how to get the word out about it. I do have a small publishing business and a full-time job, so I figured let's put my some money into advertising this time. Indie writers will tell you great success stories they've had using Facebook ads, so I started a page and boosting my posts.
Within a first few days, I got a lot of likes and shares and even a few people who requested the book and left great reviews for me. There were also people memeing on how the boy turns into a delicious venison steak at the end of the book. It was all in good fun, though. It honestly made made laugh. Things were great, so I made more posts and increased spending.
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But somehow, someway these new posts ended up on the wrong side of the platform. Soon, we saw claims of how the book was perpetuating mental illness, of how this book goes against all of basic biology and logic, and how the lgbtq agenda was corrupting our kids.
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This brought out even more people to support the book, so I just let them at it and enjoyed my time reading comments after work. A few days later, then conversation moved from politics to encouraging bullying, accusing others of abusing children, and a competition to who could post the most cruel image. They were just comments, however, and after all, people were still supporting the book.
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But then the trolls started organizing. Over night, I got hit with 3 one-star reviews on Amazon. My heart stopped. If your book ever falls below a certain rating, it can be removed, and blocked, and you can receive a strike on your publishing account. All that hard work was about to be deleted, and it was all my fault for posting it in the wrong place.
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I panicked, pulled all my posts, and went into hiding, hoping things would die down. I reported the reviews and so did many others, but here's the thing you might have noticed across platforms like Google and Amazon. There are community guidelines that I referenced in my email, but unless people are doing something highly illegal, things are rarely ever taken down on these massive platforms. So those reviews are still there to this day. Once again, it's my fault, and I should have seen it coming.
Luckily, the harassment stopped, and the book is doing better now, at least in the US. The overall rating is still rickety in Europe, Canada, and Australia, so any reviews there help me out quite a lot. I'm currently looking for a new home to post about the book and talk about everything that went into it. I also love to talk about all things books if you ever want to chat. Maybe I'll post a selfie one day, too. Otherwise, the book is still on Amazon, and the full story and illustrations are on YouTube as well if you want to read it for free.
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pretty-little-mind33 · 2 months
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James Potter x fem!reader
Summary: When your boyfriend finds out he didn't make you come, his anger quickly turns into lust.
Genre: SMUT (nsfm)
Warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving/giving), teasing, cursing, mature themes, fingering, talk of sex and orgasms (obviously)!
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"So, how's your boyfriend?" Dorcas Meadows asks you one evening at dinner. She leans in closer and she sings-songs the questions as if your boyfriend is some kind of burning hot scandal. You glance up from your plate, your eyebrows creasing, as you cover your mouth to swallow and then answer your friend, 
"He's fine. Why do you ask?" you can't help the warmth that rises in your cheeks at the mention of James. Sure, you've only been dating for three months but it's been an absolutely amazing three months. 
"No, no, I meant in the bedroom," Dorcas deadpans which causes you to almost choke on nothing as your other friends chuckle. 
"How'd you know about that?" You ask, sending a glance at Lily Evans who looks sheepish as she shrugs her shoulders from beside Dorcas. She was the only one who was supposed to know you had slept with James a week earlier. You made her promise not to tell anyone because well, the experience had been slightly disappointing. 
"Heard he didn't make you finish," Dorcas continues carelessly and your eyes round when you see James and his friends come up from behind her. Dorcas didn't see them and she finishes her sentence with a wide smirk, "Who would have guessed James Potter is shit at making girls come?"
Your heart pounds in your ears as James stands behind Dorcas, his mouth open and his cheeks suddenly burning crimson. His friends stand on either side of him, their faces drained of color, and you feel like you could just crawl into a hole and die. Your fake moans come back to haunt you; 
"James, J-James," you groaned, wrapping your legs around him as you bruised your face in his neck. James's curls stuck to his forehead as he moaned into your skin and sucked on your collarbone. Thinking you had finished, he pulled out and kissed your lips before he smiled an exhausted smile. 
"What?" Your boyfriend mutters, his voice shaky. His friends are silent, not daring to make a sound as yours look horrified for you. Dorcas's shoulders are tense and she looks at you, muttering a "sorry," behind her breath as she shoves her mashed potatoes in her mouth.
You've never seen James leave the Great Hall so quickly and you sprint after him. You manage to catch his arm and pull him into an empty classroom. You press your hands to his chest, letting him lean against a wall, but he just pulls your hands away.
"James Potter is shit at making girls come?" He repeats Dorcas's words, his tone piqued, and you can't tell if he's more upset or disheartened by the implications of the words. "When we," he pauses and turns his head away from you, "you didn't orgasm?" 
Frantically, you claw at his collar, shaking your head as guilt overwhelms you. "No–I- I didn't, but James," 
"You faked your orgasm?!" James interrupts, hurt now evident in his eyes as his voice grows more squeaky.
"James, I- I didn't mind," you start to explain, "Really! You were just so close and I could tell you wouldn't last much longer and- I needed more time. I didn't want to make you wait for me," you bite your lip, looking up at him. 
James's chest is rising and falling rapidly. His dark, hazel eyes flicker from yours to your lips and then to all your features in the middle. Gently, he lowers your hands from his collar. "Y/n, why didn't you tell me?" his voice comes out strained and broken.
Your heart shatters. "And why have you been going around telling all your friends I'm shit at making you come when you never even gave me the chance! I thought you had!"
"I know, I know, I'm sorry," your expression hardens and you scrunch your nose, "No one was supposed to know. I only told Lily because she's my best friend. I tell her absolutely everything! I guess she must have mentioned it to the others. I'm really sorry, James. Are you terribly angry with me?"
James frowns. He obviously wants to feel angry with you. He wants to be seething mad that you faked your pleasure and then went around telling your friends, but all he can think of is that night. How you looked; that beautifully flushed expression, mussed hair against his pillow, the way your lips had opened and closed to let slip your moans. 
James clenches his fists. Had that all been a lie?
He looks at you now and his eyebrows scrunch. He walks closer to the wall, backing you into it as you stare at him. You can't help the way your heart is beating as his closeness. "Okay, tell me, what did I do that made you feel good then?" James asks seriously and you're surprised by the question.
You'd expected more yelling, or blaming—
—definitely less seducing. 
"I-," you pause when James's eyes narrow and his hand moves to hold under your chin, wrapped easily around your neck. You inhale, eyes widening as he applies some pressure. He looks angry but there is also a deep, lustful, fire burning behind his eyes. His breath fans over your mouth as he whispers, 
"What. made. you. feel. good?"
"I- I liked when you kissed me, kissed behind my ears, kissed my collarbone," you mutter, breathing becoming even harsher as you remember that night. How you'd been sprawled out on his bed, legs intertwined, and he'd kissed all your worries away. James wastes no time in attaching his lips to your neck, under your ear, and you let out a shaky breath. 
"I- also- I liked when you used your fingers," you say as if prompted by the feeling of James's foot sliding over yours and pushing your legs apart. His hand dips down to your panties and he feels how wet they've become. He doesn't comment on it, just slips his hand under them and teases your clit.
"You should have told me," he reprimands in a whisper, his fingers sliding up and down your slit. 
You clutch onto his arms and shake your head, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you mutter like a prayer. 
"You should have told me because I wouldn't have stopped until my girl had come for real," James says with a nip at your skin. You let out a whine as his finger easily slides into you and he kisses you to muffle the sound.
"Fuck, my gorgeous girl. How could you?" he says as he pulls away and looks at you with slightly glossy eyes. "How could you not tell me?"
"I didn't want to embarrass you," you whimper as he runs his thumb on your clit. 
"Embarrass me?" James's eyes darken and he uses the hand holding your chin to push your head against the wall a little harshly, he scoffs, "You did just that and so much worse, my lovely," he pauses, "It doesn't matter anymore because I'll show you that James Potter can make his girl come." 
"I'm sorry," you say again. You chew your lip to suppress the needy sounds you're making. James shakes his head with a smirk and kisses the side of your mouth. He then moves his lips onto yours, teasing you with his tongue. 
"You will be," he smirks and slides his hands down your sides until he's on his knees in front of you. You look at him, his hair is messy and his expression is flustered. James grins wolfishly. He squeezes your hips and pulls up your skirt to bunch around your waist as he kisses above your panties.
"Did I not spend enough time on foreplay with my girl? Is that what it was, lovely? Was the feel of my cock just not enough for you," he soothes your embarrassed whines with another sweet kiss on your exposed stomach, "don't be shy, it's okay. You should have told me," he insists again, his words still a little harsh.
"I'm sorry, Jamie," is all you can manage to mutter, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel James's hands grip onto your thighs. You're already soaked. How embarrassing. James smirks and pulls down your panties. He slides his index over your entrance and hums when he feels your wetness. With a wider smirk, he spreads your pussy lips and exposes your needy clit. 
"You're so needy, love," James teases, "I just can't resist kissing you all over." 
As he says this, he attaches his lips to your clit and you let out a broken moan. Your hands find his hair and you chew on your lip so your noises aren't muffled. James hadn't done anything like this the last time. It had been messy and needy the first time. He'd used his fingers to open you up but you'd both been so eager, you'd missed foreplay. 
It seems likely the lack of foreplay was the issue because you feel like you're in heaven now. 
"J-James," you moan, almost incoherent as he licks and sucks at your core like a starved man. You didn't think he'd be so good at this. Your thighs clench around his head and when he pushes them apart, you moan uncontrollably. 
"Don't," James reprimands as he opens your legs and looks up at you. You can barely focus. James smirks and licks his lips. Standing up, he takes your chin in hand. "Do'ya wanna come on my tongue or my cock, darlin'. Please, tell me now because this time you are coming. I'll make damn sure of it."
You can barely form coherent thoughts let alone words as James tightens his grip on your chin. "Tongue or cock, Y/n," he says so seriously your stomach clenches with need. 
"I- I don't know," you whimper. 
James drops your chin and makes the decision for you. With a smirk, he lowers his head and places his lips around your clit again, sucking until you're once more a moaning mess. With one last whimper, your thighs tremble and you come apart. 
James moans into your pussy, pulls away, and uses the palm of his hand to rub your clit as he finishes you off. You're completely spent when James stands and kisses you. You can taste your own release on his tongue and feel his hard cock pressed against your thigh. 
"Jamie," you whine, eyes lidded. You want to please him too. 
James just deepens your kiss and whispers into your mouth, "What do you want?"
You reach out and run your hand over the bulge in his trousers. James hisses and grips your wrist, shaking his head with a stern look. "Honey, this is about you. 'M okay," he promises, but his eyes squeeze shut as his cock hardens even more. He mutters a curse under his breath. 
"I wanna," you mutter. It's your turn to drop to your knees. 
James's protests are futile because you have his cock in your mouth very quickly. While you don't necessarily enjoy giving head, this time it feels entirely deserved and you suck him eagerly. James's hands find your hair as he curses, "Fuck me," and his hips involuntarily buck into your mouth.  
"Shit, baby, I'm gonna come," he mumbles, biting his lip. 
You take him deeper, encouraging him with a small smile as your hands find his thighs. You feel him want to pull away, not wanting to come inside your mouth, but you hold him still. With a grunt, James comes and you look up at him as you swallow obediently.
Without another word, James pulls you up and smoothes down your skirt as he spins you around and kisses you passionately. You help him tuck himself back into his trousers as he kisses you and you smile against his lips. "Thank you," you say. 
"Don't thank me for making you come, darlin'," James argues, his cheeks still a little flushed from coming and the lingering embarrassment. You move to hold his cheeks in your hand and you kiss his nose. 
"Thank you for making sure I'm taken care of," you whisper anyway and lean your forehead on his. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier," you say. 
James wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in closer, "Damn right you should be," James's eyes soften and he kisses your cheek, "I'm sorry if I made you feel like you couldn't tell me. Just know, from now on, when we play—I'll make sure you come. Hard."
You giggle at this and James just nuzzles his face in your neck, enjoying the beautiful sound of your laughter.  
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obae-me · 11 days
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I have been asked to expand on the MC with trauma scenarios, and you know what, I need the comfort, so let's do it! (No these are not based on myself, I don't know what you're talking about....)
Also I've seen a ton of people's responses to the last one and just know that I am spiritually patting you all on the head and wrapping a soft blanket around your shoulders.
--
MC with ~Trauma~ PT 2!
Imagine an MC who has been mocked, berated, or criticized for their joys and hobbies. They don't do those things anymore or go to great lengths to hide them.
They never share their writing or their art with anyone. They are surrounded by demons and angels much more talented than them. The thing that they felt they were moderately talented in is below average compared to these beings... Everything they create is hidden in secret digital folders or kept in notebooks under their mattress or tucked in secret spots on their bookshelves.
They never sing or dance or play their instruments. They almost avoid the music room altogether. It's almost too painful for them to think about. If they attend a dance they just stand off to the sides... They don't participate in karaoke. They don't hum to their favorite songs.
They hardly cook, or garden, or read, or edit, or color, or knit, or crochet, or embroider, or anything else that they might enjoy.
Imagine some of the nosier brothers not realizing the pain that hides behind their passions and either playfully spying on them or digging up their secrets. Their hearts are fully destroyed when their human breaks down in tears. Now, every single day, every character encourages them to do what they love and giving them private time and space to do it in a place where they feel safe. They all hope that maybe one day MC will feel comfortable enough to share what they love with them but they will never pry it out of them, and all the while giving them the support they need behind the curtain.
Imagine Satan, Levi, and Mammon grouping together and creating a PowerPoint presentation. With Satan's organizing skills, Levi's technological know-how, and Mammon's morally grey skills of espionage, they gather all the characters together and teach a class on what to do and not to do around MC. Things like having a clear voice in text messages to keep them from having anxiety. Or not slamming doors, not entering their room without knocking, reminding them to drink water, knowing when to give them time to breathe etc. Everyone takes it seriously (some might say too seriously), including Belphie who didn't even sleep for a second during the whole thing.
What about an MC who takes on too much and never says anything about it? At first, Lucifer, Barbatos, and to a lesser degree Diavolo, are pleased that they've found a human with a strong work ethic and a love for responsibility. Little do they know that while part of that might be true, they are doing it because they are non-confrontational, a people pleaser, or try to prove their worth through success (or all of the above). They burn themselves out and forgo their other needs to conserve all their energy for the work that's been given to them, and it's not until it becomes a serious health issue that anyone really notices. They all take a blow when they come to know how much they had been pushing a human beyond their capabilities. So they tell MC to do less, not expecting the human to try and convince them that it wasn't an issue, maybe even apologizing for failing. Now they all have to keep an eye on MC and make sure they don't take things too far, and make sure that MC knows that their worth isn't tied to how much gets done in a day and they don't think of them any less for taking breaks or time for themselves. And maybe they all learn to take care of themselves a little more for it too. Especially one work-a-holic demon known as Pride.
How about an MC that hates the way they look? No matter what that might be. Body size, shape, height, skin-tone, skin-color, scars, blemishes, freckles, etc. What if it was drilled into their head since they were a child that they were not beautiful? What if they can't look into the mirror or take any photos of themselves without feeling sick? How about being around a demon like Asmo? Maybe resenting him, maybe avoiding him, maybe wishing they were like him. It probably would hurt Asmo to see someone hating themselves and their body so intently. Maybe it's because it reminds him of himself. Maybe they both have to sit down and rethink what beauty really means? It's a long process for both of them.
All of them work with the human with their image and not in a shallow way like trying to deny the things they have and who they are. They find ways around pictures, because there are more ways to keep memories rather than selfies and commemorative photos.
Or what if:
Beel: *In MC's room.* Alright, we'll just do some basic stretches.
MC: Okay, just tell me what to do.
Beel: Well, if you want, you can put on some music to make it more relaxing.
MC: Music? *Looks a little nervous.* If you want...
*MC then turns some music on their phone on the lowest setting and sets it on their bed.*
Beel: Um...you can turn it up more than that if you want.
MC: Louder? Really?
Beel: Don't you think it's a little quiet?
MC: Oh...um...okay... *turns it up by one more click.* Is- Is that okay? I can turn it down again.
Beel: *Opens his mouth, confused for a moment before shutting it again. In the quickest second, he's in his demon form.* Who do I need to find?
MC: B-Beel?!
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Blessing
Pairing- Ao'nung x Sully!reader
Summary- You are the twin sister of Lo'ak who is the complete opposite of each other, and when you move with the Metkayina you caught someones eye.
A/N- This was a request
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You are the complete opposite of your twin brother, his was rambunctious you were always calm, he was rebellious you were obedient somewhat. He wanted to fight you wanted to collect plants make medicine help to heal people. But somehow you fit each other just right, he was your best friend as you were his.
One time Lo'ak got into major trouble and at communal dinner someone made a joke calling you "the better twin." And it irked you to the bone. "That's not funny." You would say before returning to your previous conversation. And with all of this your father was very protective sometimes you think it's because he sees your Uncle Tommy in you doesn't wanna lose you how he lost Tommy, he never does talk about your uncle but you can just feel it.
When you had to move to the Metkayina clan it was hard but you tried your best to be happy. And when you got there it was nothing like you expected. They said you had demon blood, that hurt but you deflected it as much as you could. And then there was Ao'nung, when he first saw you he thought that his heart was going to explode in his chest your beauty was undeniable. But he was a big teaser at you and your siblings but his sister smacked some sense into him.
He would leave flirty remarks, "Looking good Y/N." When you would swim or, "How's my favorite forest girly doing." He would say or your personal favorite, "Pretty girl." and you would just reply kindly, with a "Thank you Ao'nung." Or a small, "I am fine how are you." and that just wrapped him into your love spell deeper.
Then he started to help you with things, even when you didn't need it. He just wanted a reason to be close with you. You thought he was just being helpful, but sometimes you couldn't help but get butterflies in your stomach when his hand would graze yours when lifting something into the docks, or when he addressed you as pretty girl and it drove you insane.
And now he here he was looking at his reflection making sure his hair was right before he went to talk to your father, Jake Sully. The Toruk Makto. Hell yeah he was scared but it would all be worth it. He walked into your families mauri only Jake was there sharpening his dagger. Ao'nung gulped a wad of saliva. His palms were sweaty and sweat threatened to spill all over his body.
He took a deep breath composing himself. "Hello Jake." Ao'nung spoke bringing his fingers from his forehead outward towards Jake as a sign of respect. "Ao'nung." Jake spoke suspiciously. "If you are looking for any of my kids I do not know except Y/N she's out collecting pearls for her little sister." He said sighing afterwards.
"No sir I just came to ask you something important." Ao'nung said Jake stood up at the seriousness in the younger males voice. "Yes of course what is it." Jake said. "I would like to ask for your blessing to court your daughter." Ao'nung spoke quickly and swiftly. And it seemed all the color drained from Jake's face. "M-my d-daughter Kiri?!?" Jake said running his hands over his face distraught. "No! Not Kiri, Y/N." Ao'nung corrected the male.
Jake turns to him, protective dad overload. And just before he could speak you walked in. "Hello fathe- Ao'nung, hey." You say indigo painting your face as Ao'nung says hello doing the forehead motion to you as he did to Jake, but Jake could tell he was flirting, right in front of him!
Jake looks at the interaction dread filling him. "What are you doing here?" You ask softly putting a bag filled with pearls down looking at him. "Oh I was just asking your father," Ao'nung took a deep breath once again before telling him he was asking for your father blessing. "His blessing to court you." He said turning back to his father.
A sense of excitement and happiness could be felt anyone in a ten foot radius of you. You looked at your father huge smile plastered on your face shaking your head up and down, yes. Your father took one deep breath and closed his eyes before he spoke, "Yes, you have my blessing." Jake said and Ao'nung turned to you and gave you a smile just as big as yours. "But," your dad said making you turn your attention to him. "You don't go anywhere alone I was a teenager not long ago I know what's going through that pea sized brain and I am not, repeat not having a baby under this roof, so help me god I will kill yo-" "Dad!" You yell stopping the threats being thrown at a shocked Ao'nung.
Oh and, when your brothers found out you were being courted all hell broke loose. "How could you let my baby sister be courted but that fish boy!" Neteyam spoke. "I am not a baby." You say as you finish separating fruits as your mother instructed you to. "I refuse to be brothers with that fish." Lo'ak said shaking his head. "I'm not happy about it either but if he makes her happy then let it be." Your father said to them. "Oh you are acting like children." You say throwing a price of fruit at your father.
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zayneslady · 3 months
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Summary: they seem to prefer their hunter friend more than you and you're tired and hurt about it
Warnings: angst, open ending(?. The reader is not MC, if that makes sense.
Characters: Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel x reader (separately)
a/n: feeling angsty tonight. Hope you enjoy my first post!
Classification: scenarios
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Rafayel
"Haaah." What a big sigh. "I miss my bodyguard..."
Was that something you could say in front of your girlfriend? You flushed to the tip of your ears. Shame ran through your body with a chill that made your skin crawl. You left the fork on the plate, and the sound made Rafayel turn around to look at you. His eyes soon saw the color on your face and he gasped, suddenly realizing the mistake he had just made, but it was too late. You both knew it.
"No," he said almost breathlessly. "That was not what I-
You rose from your seat before he could continue. 
"I think... you want someone else around you at the moment," you said calmly, finally daring to look at him through blurry sight. "M-Maybe, we can have another date... some other time. Now, excuse me, Rafayel." 
"No, wait! Come back!" 
You rushed out of the restaurant, feeling curious eyes on you, making your skin become even redder. You felt so humiliated. It was not the first time something like this had happened, one could only take so much. You were not the jealous type, on the contrary, knowing Rafayel's personality, you tried to be relaxed around him, but, perhaps... he wanted to forget his bodyguard using you? 
That was so lame and pathetic! 
A sob made you tremble and you lowered your head, trying to avoid anyone seeing you as you walked as fast as you could to the bus station.
"Wait!" He called your name, running to catch up with you. To your misfortune, the bus was not there yet and you both arrived at the station at the same time. "Listen to me, please," he said breathlessly and you shook your head. 
"I don't want to," you mumbled, trying to hide your tears, but it was impossible. "Rafayel, why did you come here? I left you so you could call your bodyguard."
"Please don't say that, I really didn't-
"You did!" You finally looked at him, your lower lip trembling. "Rafayel, I understand... I truly understand, but if you have feelings for her... why are you even with me? You're hurting me, you know?"
He flushed as he grabbed your shoulders. "I do not have feelings for her! I... I really don't have feelings for her. I want you. I have feelings for you, can't you see?" 
You shook your head, choking on a sob. "I can't. I can't see it when you say such things in front of me, Rafayel." Oh, how much you loved saying his name. It felt so nice against your tongue. It made your heart tingle lovingly... how stupid. 
"No, listen! I don't - I didn't... I don't know why I said that, I swear. I just... I am so sorry, please."
"I'm sorry too, Rafayel. You know this is not the first time... Every time we see each other, you say something related to her. 'What do you think my miss bodyguard is doing right now? She must be really busy doing that job of hers', 'Whoa, my bodyguard really likes these candies! I'm gonna get her some, wait here', 'I'm gonna order this food, it's my bodyguard's favorite!'... Rafayel, I'm not made of wood, you know?" 
He was speechless. Pupils trembling slightly. He hadn't even realized all that. That only made you feel more hurt. Did he ever take your feelings into consideration?
"I am sorry," he mumbled, helplessly.
"I am too...," you repeated, listening to the bus approaching. "I gotta go now, Rafayel. I hope... You can sort out your feelings and tell her how you feel. Now, excuse me."
"No, please! I really want to be with you, I- 
"See you, Rafayel."
Zayne
"M-Miss Hunter? Bit-
"Yes," he said, checking his phone one more time before giving you some money, your cheeks flushing. "I forgot I had a date with her. You don't mind if I leave, right? Take this, you can pay for our food with this."
"... I- 
"I promised her," he said, as if begging for you to let go of him... but you never really had any right to make him stay.
"You promised me too. You said you took your day off for me... was it a lie?" 
"No. It wasn't a lie, but right now I-
You nodded. Also getting up. "Zayne... Zayne are you sure you wanted to have a relationship with me?" 
He frowned, his expression just slightly surprised. "Of course I am sure. Why are you asking me th- 
"Or did you just want a replacement for someone you cannot have?" His eyes widened, but you continued. "I also have feelings, Zayne. I am not asking you to put me above all but... you can't even respect our time together? If you want to go out with miss Hunter, go ahead, I don't mind. But don't make plans with me and cancel them when we're in the middle of it. You could also pay me a bit more of attention instead of texting her all the time don't you think?" 
Zayne blinked, reaching out for you, but you stepped back. "Listen, this is not what you think. I do want to be with you, it's just- 
"I think... It's better if we leave things here, Zayne. My heart can only take so much. You're free to go."
"Are we....breaking up?"
You nod, forcing the tears back. "I think it's for the best, Zayne to end up here. Thank you for your time, I'm sorry I was taking a bit too much of it. I was just greedy. You don't get your crush to fall in love with you too often... I think I was wrong in that as well."
Tears rolled down your cheeks, no matter how hard you tried to stop them. "You can take your money back. You don't have to pay me for my time. Lunch's on me."
He said your name, almost desperately. "Wait, please. Let me explain this. Please."
"Goodbye, Zayne." 
"No, please. Let's talk. I really-
"She's waiting for you. Don't make her wait much more."
Xavier
Wow. You had never seen him smiling like that. His eyes were lit up like beautiful stars on a summer night. His lips curled upward, showing beautiful perfect teeth. He really looked attractive. It would be great if he was looking at you too.
"W-What's so funny, Xav?" You asked sheepishly, smiling shyly at him.
"Hmm?" He raised his eyes from his phone and met yours, his smile erasing completely as he put his phone down. "Oh," he said, disappointedly, your ears heated up. "Nothing. I was just texting with my partner."
Your eyes widened slightly. "Y-Your partner?"
"Yes," he said firmly, his voice making you feel tiny. "She's the hunter I work with. I've talked about her before."
"Yes..." Plenty.
"Mhmm," he sighed. Laying down against the picnic blanket under him. "She asked me if I wanted to go eat with her. I had to tell her no because I'm with you... Hey, how long do you think- are you crying?"
You were. Tears streaming down your face nonstop. Xavier sat up, gently grabbing your shoulder, but you softly moved away as you covered your eyes from him.
"H-Hey, what's wrong? Where are you going?"
You sniffed, looking down at him as you grabbed your bag. "Xavier... I'm sorry. I did not know you would like to go out with your partner more than me."
His eyes widened as he also got up. "No. No, you got it all wrong. I-
"Please. Please stop making excuses. No matter what I do and how hard I try, I'm never enough for you, Xavier."
"..."
"You don't smile like that when you're with me. In any case you look bored and annoyed," you gasped, trying to calm your voice between sobs. "I tried not to mind it... I thought that was your expression, but when you talk about her. Your eyes look so beautiful. So lively and warm. And your smile is so bright and sincere and... happy."
"Please, listen to me..."
"I think I'm the one that makes you unhappy."
He shook your head, but didn't do much more than that and you thought you really had enough.
"I won't make you suffer anymore, Xavier. You were never mine completely, but that little part I desperately hold on to, I let it free. You're free to be with her," you smiled softly. "Thank you... for being with me for as long as you did."
"Don't go, please. I want to be with you."
Your lower lip trembled as you nodded a little. "It would've been nice if you didn't make me feel the other way around, Xavier."
"W-Wait, please!"
"Goodbye, then."
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xmy-love-to-youx · 7 months
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Pregnancy /w Simon 'Ghost' Riley
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When you told your husband that you were expecting a baby, even with his mask on you could see the color drain from his face.
To anyone that knows him, knows that his most of the time silent but this silence between you both was something new. You couldn't tell if he was happy or not.
As time passed by, anxiety and fear gripped your heart and tears threatened to fall from your eyes. Children were a topic you haven't talked about yet, Simon made it clear he doesn't want children but you two never considered pregnancy a possibility even though you are on birth control.
You rushed to the bedroom, leaving Simon alone in the living room. He was silent, his mind was silent. The only sound that was heard was your muffled crying from the bedroom.
It wasn't long until he made his way to you, the sight of you curled up under the blankets, crying, broke his heart in a way he never knew was possible. He layed himself behind you and held you tightly against him.
He didn't know how to comfort you so he stayed silent and just held your petite body against his rough and larger body.
From that moment on, he stuck to your side. Still processing that you are carrying his baby, he would just stare at your belly. His battling internally with himself. One part wants to run away and the other is telling him to stay and fulfill his duties not just as a husband but as a soon to be father too.
With each month that passes by, he watches your belly expand and it's slowly became clear to him that the baby is a symbol of your love. He was first awkward about touching your pregnant belly.
"Can I?" he asks, his hands glued to the side of his body.
"Yes" you responded with your usual bright smile.
He hesitated and his eyes bounced around the room. You reached for his hand and placed his hand on the curve of your belly and just like that, he instantly fell in love.
Now he talks to his unborn child and gently pokes around just to get the baby to move, a chuckle leaves his lips when he sees the baby push against the inside.
"I can't wait to meet you"
"You know you and your mother are the best things that ever happened to me"
"You have a badass mother, you know that?"
"I'm going to protect you"
His the kind of guy who doesn't want to know the gender until the baby is born. He definitely spends every second with you during the pregnancy. Soap will definitely tease him for it but he doesn't care. His in love with his wife and his unborn baby and wants to be there all the time.
He definitely stops you from being on your feet for too long. He'll gently rush you out of the kitchen and into a chair. He will massage your feet and back without question.
Towards the end of the pregnancy, he was in pain, it's not physically pain. He's heart breaks when you are uncomfortable all the time, the back pains and the intense hormones.
When it was time to give birth, he was panicking more than his wife that's about to birth a tiny human. His with you every step of the way until it came time to push out the baby.
He held your hand and whispered words of encouragement to you, he thought he had everything under control until he peeked and saw his baby wiggling thier way out of you. His eyes widened with shock and he looked at you with those eyes. That's when he realized that your in more pain that it seems.
He snapped to reality when he heard his baby cry for the first time. It was like he spaced out as realization kicked in.
His a father.
When he held that tiny human in his arms, the tears just kept pouring from his eyes and he couldn't stop it. When he heard that his has a baby girl, he protectively held her close to him. He watched her sleep on his chest, skin to skin contact was important to him as he spoke gently to her.
"My little princess"
"My sweet little angel"
"Daddy's little girl"
"I'm gonna spoil you, ya? I bet you'd love that"
Since her birth, his been finding excuses to hold her. Throughout his whole life, he was traumatized and hurt, he had to be cold to protect himself but since you and your baby entered his life. He had a reason to fight, he had a reason to live.
Now, he looks at you with so much love in his eyes. You are his girls and he will always love you.
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lemonlover1110 · 7 days
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Trueform!Sukuna
Warnings: Pure Fluff
*Sukuna being a total girl dad for the daughter he didn't want, that's it. That's the post.
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Sukuna would’ve never been caught dead like this, but then, he had a daughter. He hates being forced to sit down while his four-year-old daughter is putting his hair into tiny pigtails. All the bows that were made for her are now in his hair, and she keeps adding more. Sukuna wants to leave, mainly because Namie keeps tugging at his hair and he knows he looks ridiculous, but he doesn’t want his princess to throw a major tantrum.
“Are you almost done?” Sukuna asks, clearly desperate to get out of the chair. Unfortunately for him, his daughter doesn’t care. She’s very focused on putting the bows in his pink hair, which obviously match very well since they have the same hair color. He doesn’t want to be mean to her, but Sukuna can’t take it anymore, “Will you hurry up?! I have other shit to do.”
He comes off meaner than expected, and Namie drops the bow in her hand as her bottom lip quivers. At the sight, his heart breaks. He’s raising a spoiled brat, he knows it, but he can’t stand watching her cry. She lets out the first cry, tears streaming down her face– Crocodile tears, but still tears.
“Daddy hates me!” She claims, and she’s about to run away, but Sukuna holds her head. What was that thing you did to comfort her? He takes a moment to think about it, and when he remembers, he picks her up and engulfs her in a hug. 
“Imagine I did this to you.” Sukuna says before giving her a clear example and tugging her head. She whines before crying even louder. That’s not what he meant to do. Sukuna kisses the top of her head a couple of times because that always works for you… It doesn’t do anything. 
He knows he looks ridiculous. Stupid bows in his head of all different colors, a slight tint on his lips and some makeup from earlier on his face, all while he holds a little human and tries to get her to calm down. He does all of this for her and he’s still not even close to being the favorite parent. 
“I love you, princess. You’re everything to me.” Sukuna tries to tell her. How could he not? She’s a mini replica of him. Except, Sukuna doesn’t cry when he doesn’t get what he wants, he takes more extreme measures.
Namie stops the tears when she hears that her dear daddy loves him. She sniffles one last time before gesturing with one of her many hands for Sukuna’s face to come closer, which he doesn’t hesitate to do. Namie smiles before kissing his cheek, which makes the father smile– A smile that quickly goes away, just in case anyone happens to walk by and see.
“I love you too, daddy.” She answers, but that’s not all. Of course it isn’t. Sukuna puts her down on the floor again and she immediately asks, “Can I put more bows in your hair?”
He’s not sure he has space for more, but he doesn’t want his daughter to start crying again. He ends up sighing before answering defeatedly, “Yes. Yes you can.”
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emphistic · 24 days
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Can't Relate to Desperation
A/N: requested by anon — i apologize for how long this took; this was fun to write
— just a heads-up: this is preschool!Sukuna
“—I was wondering if you could help me with a little favor.”
“Sure, shoot.” Your friend was surprised to see Sukuna — out of all people — approach them, but they didn't show it.
“Y/N’s birthday is pretty soon, and I don’t have any ideas on what to get her.” Sukuna had known you for a long while. But that didn’t mean he knew what you wanted for a birthday present. I mean, he obviously knows your likes and dislikes. Your hobbies and pastimes. Your favorite colors, foods, drinks, movies, even. But none of those gave him an idea for a meaningful birthday present.
“Ohh, yeah. I'm getting her a matching pajama set! Because we’re going to have a sleepover after her party.”
Sukuna mentally raised a brow at that, he thought you guys were already planning on having a sleepover. And he most definitely did not remember inviting anyone else to the sleepover.
“I didn't ask.” Sukuna wanted to get this questionnaire over with already, and go back to playing with you on the swings or something like that.
“Hey! That’s not nice. I’ll tell the teacher.”
“Can you help me or not?”
“No, because you’re a meanie. And meanies don’t deserve my help.” Your friend crossed her arms and turned away from Sukuna, emitting a little ‘hmph’ sound.
“Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Can you just help me?” He couldn't believe he just apologized to someone other than you.
“Fine,” your friend huffed out, turning back around.
All the while, you watched this exchange happen from afar. Earlier, you were back in the classroom, digging through your backpack to find the necklace you had purchased with your early birthday money from your parents. You had planned to give it to Sukuna, but it currently looked like he had acquired another friend.
And, what made it even more disappointing was the fact you spent at least ten minutes looking for him. You waited outside the restrooms, searched the playground, dug through the sandpit — in case he got buried, and even checked the cubbies. Then you took a lap outside, and found him talking to another girl, who happened to be your [second] best friend — (Sukuna being the first).
The smile plastered across your face immediately dropped, and so did the necklace in your hands.
It’s not like Sukuna wasn’t allowed to have other friends, it’s the fact that he doesn't — by choice, obviously — except for you. And it's been that way, ever since you complimented his hair, saying, “I love the pink! It is my favorite color,” which was contrary to many of your other classmates. Most kids actually made fun of him for it, albeit Sukuna would always glare in their direction and the laughter and teasing would stop in an instant.
You couldn't believe your eyes. He usually ignored people who tried to talk to him and pushed aside those who wanted to make friends. So why was he suddenly talking to your friend? Was he trying to replace you? Did he get bored of you? Why were they talking in such a secluded area behind the garbage cans? Was he trying to hide all of this from you?
You wiped your soon watering eyes with your sleeve, grabbed the necklace off the ground, and quickly ran in the opposite direction.
Coincidentally, as soon as Sukuna got all the information he needed from your friend, he saw your figure turning around. Why were you here? He thought.
“Thanks.” Sukuna ran away from your friend, and as soon as he caught up to you, he said, “Hey, where are you going?”
“Nowhere.” You didn't turn around to face him, continuing to run away.
Sukuna came to a halt, staring at your back. What's your problem? Sukuna decided it was probably nothing, and that you just wanted some alone time, so he left you to your alone time and resorted to playing in the sandpit by himself. But it didn't feel the same as when you played with him. The sand was too warm, the sandcastle was off-center with the hills made of sand, the birds’ singing was too loud. Nothing was right.
You had to admit, avoiding Sukuna was like avoiding the sun. You could hide out under roofs and loiter inside the restrooms, but you had to get out eventually. And eventually you did; recess had ended and you had to get back to the classroom to continue your lessons. And who did you sit next to? Take a wild guess.
When you sat down in your seat, you scooted your chair as far as possible away from the boy beside you — who stayed still, utterly confused at your actions, and wondering why the hell you were being this way.
Then, your class was assigned a group project. Sukuna turned to you, expecting the two of you to pair up, but to his surprise, you asked another classmate to pair up instead.
Okay, he thought. Maybe you just want to get social with other people; that's fine. That's normal.
What wasn’t normal was the fact that you continued to blatantly ignore the pink-haired boy even at lunchtime.
Sukuna asked you his usual question, “Do you want to share my juicebox?” And, thank Heavens, you finally looked him in the eye. But then you flatly said, “No,” before turning around and starting to eat your own lunch.
Sukuna frowned. “What’s your deal today? Are you allergic to apple juice now or something?”
“No.” Going back to what you did earlier, you didn't face him this time, choosing to eat your sandwich in peace.
Usually, you gave him the crust of your sandwiches to eat, because you didn’t like how they tasted, and he did, but you decided against that today. Which was a shame, Sukuna was looking forward to eating your sandwich’s crust.
“Geez, okay. Be that way, I guess.” Sukuna stabbed the straw into his juicebox and drank. But like the sandpit, it just wasn't the same.
This continued all day. And I mean all day.
Sukuna was starting to get real upset. This frustrated him deeply. He swore that if you kept on avoiding him and running away every single time he tried to approach you, he was going to end up with white hairs at the age of four.
Did you not want to be his friend anymore? Did you finally grow to dislike his pink hair that you once loved so much? He hoped the answers to those questions were a definite ‘no’.
He hoped the answer to those questions was a definite ‘no’.
Finally defeated and having given up on his searching for you all over school, he walked to the playground, hoping that swinging would clear his head. And God, he was so thankful he did just that. Because upon entering the play area, he found you, already sitting on the swings and swinging sadly, by yourself. You were swinging sadly on the swings, yes, indeed you were.
It was quite an amusing sight, to anyone who didn’t know the context. But Sukuna did, to an extent, at least. He knew you were upset, and that the likely cause was him. It was always him. Always. Good or bad, happy or sad, he was always the cause, for you. But you wouldn’t have it any other way, right?
Your head was low, focused on staring at the ground beneath you as you swung back and forth. Sukuna thought you looked cute like that — your braids dangling in front of your face, as you basked in the sun’s rays.
But then Sukuna remembered the task at hand, and made sure to approach you with caution and much needed confidence [in himself].
When he got closer to you — only a few feet apart — he quickly realized why your head was so low when you raised it to look at him, tears in your doe, yet angelically pure eyes.
He cleared his throat. “Y/N. What’s . . . wrong? What’s upsetting you? . . .Is it me?” He whispered the last part, to the point it was barely audible; but you heard him. You always did.
“Why don’t you go and talk to your other new friend, huh?” You spat out, stifling a hiccup as it came.
“Wait—what?” Sukuna’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Don’t play dumb. I know what you did. I know what you’re doing. You can replace me with whoever you want, I don’t care, not anymore. Now go away so I can play all by my lonesome.
“Y/N, I’m not replacing you. I know you’re a dummy sometimes but. . . Where’d you even get such a ridiculous idea?”
“Oh, so I’m the dummy?” you retaliated.
Then it hit him, you were referring to earlier this morning, when he was talking to your friend for advice on what to get you as a birthday present.
“I—you’ve got it all wrong, Y/N. All wrong. I wasn’t, I’m not, and I would never ever replace you. So get that stupid idea out of your head already. I was just asking her for help to . . . get you . . . something — for your . . . birthday, that’s coming up soon.” He didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but if it would make you feel any better, he couldn’t care less about keeping a silly little secret.
“Oh, Sukunaaa! You could’ve just asked me!” You jumped off the swings, swiftly wiping your teary eyes dry, and tackled Sukuna into a hug. The two of you fell into a giggling mess of tangled limbs on the ground.
And to your surprise, the following week, Sukuna gifted you a necklace at your birthday party. It was a cheap, dainty necklace, that much was obvious. But opening the heart charm revealed a poorly taken, bad quality, photo of you and Sukuna both. You two were smiling like idiots, embraced in a hug, and you recognized the picture to date back to when you visited Sukuna at one of his basketball games. The first game of his that you went to, actually.
The cherry on top was the fact that the necklace he got you was the same necklace you were planning on giving him before you saw him talking to your friend last week.
But, ah, it was whatever. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside
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everythingne · 5 months
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christmas in monaco - cl16 [2]
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Trying to even bring up boys with Max ends up in a fight. You and Charles have a heart-to-heart. Daniel and Carlos help you devise a plan.
warnings/notes: comparing Max to Jos during the fight, mentions of shit parents, one (1) jab at Kelly, the chapter is serious and then Daniel shows up and that goes to shit, the last bit of set up before i go full scooby-do search party through the doors on you guys
verstappen!reader x charles leclerc, secret dating/brothers best friend
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You know you're in for it when you open the door to Max's apartment, groceries tucked lazily in one arm and coffees in the other and he's staring at you.
"What?" You ask as if you have no idea what he wants. You can see Penelope laying on the floor, coloring while some cartoon you've never heard of plays, and thus immediately switch to Dutch.
"[Why do you look like you're mad at me?]" You say, walking over to where he sits on the kitchen island, plopping down the groceries, and handing him the coffee you'd bought. Kelly's off doing god knows what today, leaving the two of you to watch Penelope before you return to your apartment next door.
"[Who is he?]" Max asks, taking the coffee with a nod of a thank you as he helps you organize the groceries. You knew posting that picture would cause this conversation, you and Charles had spoken about easing Max into the fact you were dating at all, and maybe it wasn't the best idea. Max had been fiercely protective over you since you were kids, you don't know why you assumed he'd stop now that you were adults.
"[I haven't told anyone yet. We're keeping it hush.] Okay?" You speak softly, setting down some things for dinner. Simple pasta, since Penelope had picked that over pizza--as long as you made her meatballs as well. You pluck the ingredients from the mess of other groceries, making sure you have everything as Max leans back in his seat.
"[Oh, so I'm just anyone now?]" Max lifts his hands in agitation, the same accusatory tone of your father's ringing in Max's voice. You swallow your vitriol, crossing your arms taught over Charles' hoodie you wear as you cross the room, then you tug up the red sleeves of the hoodie as you set down the ingredients for dinner by the stove.
"[Max, come on.]" You urge, hoping he'll drop it. But he's as stubborn as your father and as impatient as him too.
"[No, I feel like I have a right to be upset over this, how long have you two been seeing each other?]" His pointed glare at you as you whisk out a pan from under the stove makes your skin burn hot. You pause, mouth opening and closing as you slowly slide the pot onto the stove. If you say two years, does that link you to Charles too quickly? But if you lie, will Max see right through you? And you can't dodge the question, not here, not now.
"A couple months." You say. Yeah, twenty-four of them, then you scoff when Max makes a face, "[Stop acting like a child.]"
"[And how come Danny knows?]"
"[He found out on accident, and honestly I remember now why I didn't wanna tell you.]" You huff, filling the pot with water and clicking the burner on. You tie your hair up lazily, looking over at Max as your crack-open fridge next to the stove and then turn to grab the ingredients to make the sauce, "[you're treating me like a toddler.]"
"[You're my baby sister, I feel like I am kinda... obligated, to be concerned?]" Max's voice is sharp as you start to whip up the same sauce you've been making since you were fourteen. Max stands up and crosses the room to stand next to you, "[And I'm not treating you like a toddler. It's my job to protect you as your brother.]"
"[I'm a year younger than you! I'm not a baby, you just don't trust me, which is fucking stupid because I'm not the one dating a woman almost a decade older than me!]" You huff as you turn to Max, who tries to stammer some defense to his situation but you don't give him a chance to, "[and I don't know why you think I can't date drivers, by the way, you trust those guys with your life but not my heart?]"
"[Those guys are cheaters, I don't want you hurt.]" Max runs a hand through his hair, watching as you continue making the sauce. You can tell, just by his eyes, that he's thinking of the times you used to make him pasta after races growing up. You try to not think about the past.
"Who?" You ask, looking at the sauce and burning the red color into your retinas, mentally praying that he's not catching onto you.
"Lando, probably." Max huffs, stepping back, "Charles."
"Charles?" You hum, hating that you come to his defense immediately and not Lando's, "[The guy who just announced the girl he's been dating for two years?]"
"[He's done some interesting things.]" Max says in his defense and you can't help but laugh. You knew before Charles met you he had been a bit of a womanizer, or 'man-whore' as your friends so kindly said. But with you, it was like Charles was a brand new person.
"[You're so overdramatic.]" You deadpan, turning to add the noodles to the sauce and Max scoffs.
"[I'm trying to protect you so you don't end up with someone like Dad!]"
"[You haven't even met my boyfriend yet and you're assuming the worst! Why are you being such a dick, Max!?]" You slam the spoon down and then flinch, remembering Penelope is in the other room the second you do it. It takes a few seconds, and then her little head peeks around the doorway.
"Are you fighting?" She asks sweetly and you shake your head.
"No, Penny, it's fine." You try to smile at her, but Max seems to have taken another level of offense to everything.
"Y/n. [Go fuck off to your mystery boy, why don't you?]" Max takes the spoon off the counter. His cold shoulder isn't something new, but it's the way he says it, sounding like the harsh whispers your father would pass at you in public, makes you swallow hard. You walk across the room, grabbing your purse and car keys off the table before kneeling down in front of Penelope and kissing her hairline.
"I'll see you tomorrow, okay honey? Sorry if I scared you when I slammed the spoon down." You squeeze her in a tight hug, closing your eyes as you feel Max's eyes burn into the back of your head.
"Okay, Tante Y/n." She smiles, throwing her tiny arms around you, "And it's okay, I thought you dropped it."
You step back, kissing her hairline again, before getting up and leaving the apartment in a breeze, coffee forgotten. Your hands fumble with your phone, finding Charles' contact and sending him a quick message as you try and calm your anger.
--
You have a spare key, and as you jiggle your phone and keys in your hands to find it, the door swings open and two arms wrap around you. Laughing softly, you bury your face into the fabric of Charles' sweater and sigh heavily. He's warm, smelling of the usual cedar cologne you'd bought for him a while back. He also smells weakly like his hair products and if you try to search for it, your perfume lingers on his neck.
"Hi, amour." You murmur into the fabric and he bends at the knee enough to scoop you up to carry you the few inches inside before popping you back on your feet as he uses one hand to push the door shut.
"Hi." He says back, stepping back and squishing your cheeks in his hands and peppers soft kisses to your hairline, "Sorry about Max."
"It's fine. He's just being overprotective again." You kick off your shoes and follow Charles to the living room, flopping down on his couch and burying your head in your hands.
"You know if..." Charles sighs, hand coming through his hair and then pausing as he scratches at his neck, "If it's gonna be easier for you, I can try and talk to him?"
"No... I should tell him, he's my brother. I just don't think now is a good time?" You say as Charles pops down next to you on the couch and you shift so you can lay his head in your lap as you kick your feet onto the coffee table to rest, "he just seems so... agitated."
"Because you're dating?"
"He's afraid I'm gonna end up with someone like Dad. That's the problem. He doesn't trust anyone with me and gives them no chances. He thought Jolie was a drug dealer for like, six months!"
"She's a teacher?" Charles turns to you and you can't help but just laugh because that's Max.
"I know!" You huff.
Silence lulls for a while, and then Charles sits up and grabs you to unceremoniously pull you against his chest as he lays you both down on the couch. your face squishes against his hands as he peppers soft kisses to your hairline, the apples of your cheeks, and your nose, before pressing one long kiss to your lips. Pulling back just enough to murmur,
"I wanna spend Christmas with you, properly, this year." He says against your lips, your eyes fluttering before he presses his thumb to your pulse to draw you back enough to make eye contact, "I want to be able to post you, to talk about you with everyone because you're so fucking amazing, and I wanna meet your siblings and your mom and go on holidays with you guys and have our moms meet because Maman and Arthur both adore you and..."
Charles drawls off for a moment, hands coming up to cup your face as he thumbs along the warm, delicate skin of your cheeks, "I want, one day, to be able to get down on one knee and give you my whole heart."
Your pulse rams under his touch, cheeks dusted red, eyes wide but happily smiling as he leans in to lock in a long kiss, then he peppers some pecks on the corners of your mouth.
"The problem is, I can't do anything without Max knowing about us. Two years of us dating without telling him is already bad enough and he's been in my life since we were kids--even if we absolutely hated each other at first." Charles sighs, pressing a final quick kiss to your lips before letting you rest your head on his chest, "I feel terrible he doesn't know."
"But you know what he said." You sigh, closing your eyes against the warm fabric of his sweater--the grey one you'd bought for him a while back.
"I know, but we're either going to tell Max, or Max will find out." Charles sighs, "I prefer the first if I'm honest."
Even as you nod in agreement, you feel sick. The bubble of you and Charles had been safe for so long, that you weren't sure if you wanted to let Max in. But he was your brother, a year and fifteen days older, and you had told him everything up to this point. You'd be lying if you said you didn't also feel like shit for keeping Max out of the loop, but yet you feel like you have to.
"How'd Daniel find out?" Charles asks after a moment and he looks at you with those big eyes that make your heart thrum under your skin, love, and adoration seep from him and you don't understand at that moment how he could've ever been a womanizer when he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars just for him.
And then a small smirk peeks across his lips, "Because I know how Carlos did--"
"That one was your fault, Leclerc." You poke his chest, "Not locking the driver's room door was stupid."
"It was! But we're lucky it was Carlos."
"We're lucky we were only kissing."
"[We could've done more.]" He teases, making sure to really ramp up his accent as he speaks French so it's a bit harder for you to follow along, but you get the gist and whack his chest.
"Daniel saw me leaving, he was in the area doing media stuff." You explain, "I guess he saw me leaving."
"Oh, I thought it was because he moved in downstairs last week." Charles hums and you snap your eyes open and exclaim--
"What?!"
"Mhm. And Carlos lives in this building too." Charles looks over at you from where his eyes had been burning a hole in the ceiling, "Mon chéri, a lot of the drivers live in Monaco."
"I'm gonna lose it." You grumble, then pause, sitting up so you're hovering over Charles, one of his hands slides to support your waist immediately so you don't slide off.
"Carlos and Danny know." You say.
"Mhm."
"And... Carlos is your best friend--"
"--Arguably--"
"--and Danny is arguably Max's best friend, behind you."
"Uh-huh."
"...What if we ask them for help?"
"Absolutely not am I asking those two," Charles says and you huff.
"Come on! We clearly can't do it ourselves!" You exclaim, bouncing yourself on him with your arms, making him grunt as your body weight hits him.
"Daniel will tell us to do some sort of skit and Carlos will say for us to just say it!" Charles grips your waist and pulls you closer, "I don't need their shit advice."
"Maybe we need their guidance, and I promise it won't be bad! I promise! We can invite them over, have some wine and dinner, and voice our concerns--maybe they know something about Max we don't! Maybe they'll know he won't be mad or something."
"Y/n." He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.
"Charles!" You whine, "Look, if they give us shit advice, we kick them out and go back to the drawing board."
"Fine. But I'm holding you to this."
--
"I'm going to kick Danny out in about five seconds." You hiss to Charles and he laughs.
"Dude!" Danny shouts from where he sits on the floor, "I'm just saying, Max likes Charles. We all see it!"
"Believe me." Carlos hums into his wine, "There's a reason that... what is it... Lestappen shit is so popular. He's not gonna be mad its Charles. If it was like... me? Probably. Charles and Daniel are probably the only two drives you could date."
"And Yuki." Charles hums, "I don't think Yuki could do wrong."
"He might stab someone with the chef's knives he got for Secret Santa." Daniel points out and you snort.
"But you seriously have nothing to worry about." Carlos nods, "Honestly, you both are so stressed about it, I don't think either of you can think clearly."
You huff, "I feel like I can be stressed though. Max will either be fine with it or hate me forever."
"No, not forever, étoile." Charles hums, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he draws you close.
"I don't think Max can physically hate you. I think he'd explode." Daniel hums, "Remember when you were sick and he thought you were ignoring him but you just literally couldn't hear out of one ear and he almost had a crisis?"
"You remember that?" You blink at Daniel. That had been only shortly after you'd met Daniel, the first race of that season. You were so delirious you couldn't remember most of the weekend, but you remember Christian and Daniel holding that over Max's head for weeks after.
"I do because he almost lost his mind for like four hours thinking you were mad at him and ignoring him. And then you rolled over and woke up from your nap." Daniel finishes the unceremonious story and Charles and Carlos burst into high-pitched laughter.
"He didn't think to like, shake her shoulder?" Carlos asks between laughter, finishing off his wine and grabbing a bottle from the little makeshift bowl cooler you put on the floor. He pours himself another glass and then tops everyone else off before putting the bottle back.
"He knew she was sick, and Y/n specifically told him not to touch her or go near her while she was sick." Daniel explains, thanking Carlos before taking a sip of the wine, "It was ridiculous. And then he made her promise that she wasn't actually mad."
"It was pretty funny." You grin and Carlos nods.
"So then Daniel is right, Max can't stand you being angry at him. So he can't be angry with you. If he is, he's a hypocrite, and fuck him, obviously." Carlos raises his glass in mock toast as sarcasm bleeds through his sentence halfway through, "But I can't say he won't be mad. He might be furious when he finds out, you have explained how protective Max can be, but I think he'll feel better knowing it's Charles."
"Charles is like his best friend," Daniel hums, "if you're dating someone he trusts I'm sure he'll feel better about it."
"Didn't we just make this point?" Carlos turns to Daniel who nods.
"Yeah, but it's a good one, so make it again."
"Max trusts Charles so it's fine," Carlos says and you laugh, waving your hands.
"Okay, so how the fuck do we do this?"
The plan is simple but effective. And it takes a few words to describe; be exactly the same, but a bit less secretive.
And the best way to start that is via social media. Once again.
-
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y/nverstappen made a new post! ↴
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liked by carlossainz, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen, and 412k others..
y/nverstappen: he called me his star <3
joliejolie: CYOOTIE PATOOTIE WHHAAAT
user1: caption??? GUYS?? CAPTION??
maxverstappen: i still don't know who
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charlesleclerc made a new post! ↴
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liked by ynverstappen, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 612k others...
charlesleclerc: never getting rid of this camera.
user2: get me someone who will do this for me.
danielricciardo: DUDE THERE ARE KIDS HERE.
⤷ landonorris: im covering oscar and logans eyes
⤷ logansargeant: yeah ok.
⤷ charlesleclerc: ill get worse
⤷ oscarpiastri: pls no
⤷ carlossainz: ill buy u wine if you do
⤷ danielricciardo: DONT ENCOURAGE THAT WE DONT NEED A FUCKING HOMICIDE ON OUR HANDS??? CARLOS???
⤷ ynverstappen: why is DANIEL on damage control??
user1: why is this the sweetest thing ever?
ynverstappen.jpg: make a jpg coward
⤷ charlesleclerc.jpg: who says i dont have one.
⤷ landonorris.jpg: its just priv.
⤷ danielricciardo: unpriv coward
⤷ charlesleclerc: ok ?
⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: YEAAA SECRET CHARLES PHOTOS!!
charlesleclerc.jpg made a new post! ↴
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charlesleclerc.jpg: in her own world.
arthurleclerc: vomiting. put clothes on.
y/nverstappen: TWO shirtless photos. BRO.
⤷ charlesleclerc: oops.
maxverstappen: so she takes after you with not wearing a shirt?
⤷ charlesleclerc: low blow
⤷ ynverstappen: accurate blow tbh
landonorris: where is ferrari's pr manager.
⤷ carlossainz: no one can help her.
ynverstappen.jpg made a new post! ↴
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y/nverstappen.jpg: some fuckin gems in my camera roll recently
charlesleclerc: omg finally a feature
danielricciardo: WHEN WAS THAT TAKEN I DO NOT RECALL
⤷ carlossainz: shit talk night w her and charles
⤷ danielricciardo: after the advice?
⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: yes and u still owe me a new shirt >:(
maxverstappen: can you ever post a nice photo of me on here?
⤷ y/nverstappen: nope <3!
charlesleclerc: the banana is so old why now
⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: comedy
-
And by god, it starts working.
You're walking with Charles, hands intertwined as you wiggle through the tiny stalls in the small market that's popped up for the holidays. You both find a small corner to hide, stealing a chaste kiss and then you pop a chocolate strawberry in his mouth.
"Oh, damn." He hums, "You are right, these are amazing."
"I told you!" You grin, peeking behind your shoulder to see if anyone is watching. You swear you make eye contact with Max, but the longer you look the less the guy looks like Max so you turn back around.
"You good?" Charles rests a hand on your waist and you nod, taking a strawberry into your mouth and sighing.
"Mhm. Just hate hiding." You lean into his touch, letting him wrap a firm arm around your waist as he peppers a few kisses to your hairline.
"Hey, think about it this way." Charles says, "Soon we won't have to."
As you step back and agree, Daniel pops up next to you with big wide eyes--and not the usual excited ones you're used to seeing.
"Hey, Max, on your six." He pokes your shoulder and you make a face, before Daniel waves his arms around in some sort of odd gesture and hisses out to you, "Clock direction!"
"Oh-!" You whip around as Charles' hand moves off your waist and walking towards you is none other than your brother. Offering a soft smile and wave.
"Hey! Didn't think you'd be here!" You call and he pokes your arm, crossing his arms over his chest as you, Charles, and Daniel kinda scramble to make it look like nothing was going on.
"Kelly wanted to grab some flowers for the kitchen," Max hums. The two of you hadn't really apologized for anything said during the argument. In your family, arguments were never really apologized for, you kinda of just moved on from everything. So even if there was still a bit of an awkward twinge, nothing was said.
"Oh! Somehow Charles and Daniel haven't had the strawberries so I brought them here to try them." You smile, and someone's hand comes to your jaw. You blink as Charles uses one of the napkins to poke your cheek.
"You got chocolate on your face, somehow." He murmurs and you laugh, grabbing his wrist and taking the napkin into your own hands.
"Thank you, Charlie." You blot where he says the chocolate is and you notice Max giving you a weird look. Looking over at your brother, you go to say something before Daniel pulls Max away to look at something, mouthing to you both,
"Be more discreet, maybe?"
And you can't help the giggles that leave your mouth as you lean into Charles and he wraps an arm around you, laughing out apologies.
Yeah, Max was gonna catch on.
-
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and now you and Charles had to get real good at lying and dodging watchful eyes. Monaco was a small little country, and now that it would be filled with more people who knew you, it was about to become a real challenge to see if you could make it through the holidays without anyone knowing or noticing.
Oh, especially when your Christmas Eve dinner was now going to have the Leclerc's stopping by as well.
taglist. thank you!
@angelayse @iamahallucinationnn @ilove-tswizzle @supremebaddietrash
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stargirllanaa · 4 months
Text
୨⎯ "Cruel World” - Rafe Cameron
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❥ Masterlist
Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Noncon smut, toxic relationship, Abusive relationship, Domestic violence, Gun violence, Drinking, ex!rafe, Rafe is actually terrible, psycho ex bf Rafe
Summary: loosely, based on ‘Cruel World’ by Lana Del Rey, everything goes wrong when you spot your psycho ex bf at a New Year’s Eve party.
A/n ✎: Thank you so much for 100 followers! Ahhhh!!!! I’m so glad you guys are enjoying my work, I recommend listening to the song ofc but you don’t have too. Bold and italics are flashback. Enjoy <333
Wc: just under 3k
18+ MINORS DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED
“Does anyone know where I put my eyeliner?” Your friend Nora asked you, as well as your other friend Violet.
You were all getting ready for some New Year's Eve party at Nora's boyfriend's house; everyone would be home from college for winter break, so you were excited to see all the people you went to high school with.
“No, but I know where the vodka is!” Violet chuckled,
“Come on, let's all take a shot!” Violet continued as she made her way over to you.
“Come on, y/n, are you going to pout all night? He might not even be there.” the brunette expressed as she sat beside you, bottle in hand.
She was referring to your ex, Rafe Cameron, and you knew for almost a fact that he would be there. Nora's boyfriend happened to be his best friend, Topper, and you and Rafe hadn't exactly ended on the best terms. The two of you had been broken up for about a month and a half; for the first two weeks, he would not stop texting and calling you, profusely apologizing, saying things like, ‘I'll go to therapy.’ ‘give me another chance.’ ‘I'll be better.’
It got so annoying that you had to block him; obviously, that wouldn't stop him. The thing was, Rafe was fucking crazy; he would always find a way to get to you, and if he didn't, he simply didn't want to.
“He's going to be there.” You said with a sign, “I'm just going to get fucked up, ignore him, and hopefully get some dick tonight.”
“That's the spirit!” Violet said as you tilted your head back, and she poured the vodka down your throat.
“Are you kidding me?” Your boyfriend asked you in a harsh tone as he stalked toward you.
“What?” you respond as you tried to take a wobbly few steps back.
His eyes narrowed at you, and his eyebrows furrowed.
“Well, aside from the clown makeup,” Rafe said, referring to your red lipstick.
“How many times do I have to tell you I don't like that dress?” Rafe interrogated as he roughly grabbed your waist.
“How many fucking times, y/n?” the blonde shook your body roughly. “For you to get it through your thick fucking skull?”
You were silent, frozen almost; whenever Rafe got violent, you didn't know how to react. You didn't fight; you didn't try to run; you stood wide-eyed in shock because if you did respond the wrong way, you knew it would make things 10x worse than they already were.
“Huh?” He asked you, shaking your body roughly again, waiting for you to respond.
“I- I don't know.” You mumbled weakly.
“You don't know,” he mocked with a dry humorless laugh.
“Go and change. Red looks trashy on you.” He stated before letting go of you with a harsh push into the wall.
All your friends knew that Rafe was bad, but they certainly didn't know how bad he was. You were so good at hiding it, concealer, color corrector, foundation, you name it; if it could cover a bruise, you had it. Every story you told them about your fights with Rafe were very watered down, and because of that, no one knew how truly scared you were to run into Rafe at this party. Not in an ‘Oh, no, my ex!’ way more in a ‘he might kill me way.’ But with every shot you took, you felt your fear start to fade slowly, and when you arrived at the party five shots in, in your little red party dress, you felt way more confident than you should have.
Your arm linked with Violet’s as your friend Nora lost the two of you to find her boyfriend. You and Violet stumbled through the house, passing through groups of people, trying your best to find the drink table.
“By the way, I love your dress,” Violet approved, looking you up and down. “Red is your color.”
“Thank you!” you smiled, taking the compliment to heart; she didn't know just how much that meant to you; you hadn't worn red since Rafe had told you it was ‘trashy’ on you.
“Fuck, is the Britney Smith?” Violet giggled, pointing at the short blonde girl.
“Isnt she pregnant?” you wondered as your eyes fell on the drink table.
“Oh my god, look who's right next to the drinks,” Violet says before covering her mouth with her hand.
“Is that Alex?” you replied, squinting your eyes to get a better look.
Violet nodded in response, eyes wide with excitement.
“Go talk to him!” you smiled at her. “I'll sit right over there,” you said, pointing at the elegant velvet couch.
As you sat on the couch, you couldn't stop thinking about Rafe. Your anxiety slowly started to rise, and you regretted every choice you made up to this point. First of all, you and Rafe had ended on horrible terms; second of all, you came to a party that you knew he would most likely be at, and now you are all alone and a little more drunk than you'd like to be.
You couldn't stop thinking back to that day, your breaking point, the last fight you had with Rafe before you ended things for good.
“Why are you following John B on Instagram?” Your boyfriend asked you as he looked up from his phone.
The question confused you a bit; you honestly didn't even know you were following him in the first place.
“I don't know?” you replied with a shrug. “Probably was an accident; maybe Sarah tagged him in something or-”
“Was it an accident when you smiled at him the other day at the wreck?” he cut you off.
Was he serious right now? John B had waved at you, and you simply smiled in return. You were just being nice; it was nothing more than that.
“Rafe, I-” You were going into very dangerous territory, and you knew that, even though Rafe was physically attractive, he was very insecure, which showed a lot in your relationship.
“If it's another bullshit excuse, I don't want to hear it,” he scolded as he stalked towards you.
He wasn't even giving you the chance to defend yourself, and frankly, it was pissing you off even more than his stupid questions.
“Rafe, I don't even know what you're talking about; I literally-” you plead with your boyfriend, taking a step back for every step he took forward.
“Of course you ‘Dont know,’ you never do.” Rafe hissed at you, moving closer and closer.
“That's what you do; you act all fucking innocent and then sneak around behind my back.” the blonde accused.
“Do you think I'm stupid?” He sneered, backing you against the wall.
That was the final straw; now he was accusing you of cheating from a simple smile and an Instagram follow. I mean, how delusional could he be?
“Are you fucking crazy?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed.
You could tell he was shocked at your response by the way his eyebrows arched upwards slightly, but you could also tell you pissed him off by the way his jaw ticked.
“What did you say to me?” He asked; he heard you loud and clear the first time; he just wanted to see if you had the guts to repeat it.
“Are you fucking crazy? I follow him on Instagram. So what? I can unfollow him if it's a problem.” you argued, shocked that this was even an issue.
Rafe's hand shot forward without warning, delivering a sharp slap to your face. Time momentarily slowed as the impact echoed through the room. As the sting of the slap registered, a deep sadness clouded your features. You hated to say it, but you were used to rafe hurting you.
“Who do you think you're talking to?” Rafe asked you. Blue eyes are darker than their everyday shade.
“Huh?” He scoffed, laughing slightly.
“Calling me crazy…talking to me like I'm the one in the wrong?” your boyfriend shouted as he snatched a big chuck of your hair, gripping it tight enough to bring tears to your eyes.
“Rafe, I-” you tried to defend yourself as tears clouded your vision.
“No, I'm talking now.” His voice boomed as he screamed in your ear.
Rafe slammed your head against the wall behind you, using your hair as leverage; at this point, your ears were ringing, your head was banging, and you couldn't speak from the pain alone. And Rafe just kept going on and on about how important trust is in a relationship, but how could you even listen when he was gripping your hair so tight? But obviously, Rafe didn't see this as punishment enough because he dragged you by the hair to his closet, and even as he rustled through his sock drawer, clearly looking for something, he didn't once let go of your hair.
“Rafe! Stop-” You were cut off by the feeling of ice gold metal pressed against your temple; you were completely frozen, not knowing what to do; there was no way your boyfriend was pressing a gun against your head over an Instagram follow.
“If you even look at john b again, your fucking dead.” Rafe threatened coldly.
Your heart was racing; Rafe was impulsive knowing him; you could breathe the wrong way, and he would pull the trigger. That didn't stop your breath from fasting and your tears from falling, though.
“You hear me?” he asked, pulling your hair back just enough to make eye contact.
You didn't say anything; you had been sobbing ever since you felt the metal against your head in the first place.
“Do you hear me?” He shook you, demanding an answer, “I will fucking kill you.”
“Yes!” you cried out, hoping and praying for him to put the gun down and let go of you.
And when you left his house that night, you had never returned. Rafe did have his good moments, but was he worth your life? You broke up with him over text the following day, and you hadn't seen him since.
Since today, as soon as you looked up from your lap, lost in thought, you made eye contact with Rafe. You felt sick when you saw him; you knew he would be here, but you weren't expecting to see him this soon.
You stood up, making your way through the separate groups of people; you needed to find somewhere you could be by yourself because right now, you felt like you might have a panic attack.
“Excuse me,” you repeated over and over as you drunkenly stumbled to the stairs. No one was upstairs, other than maybe a few people hooking up, but other than that, it was pretty empty. You looked for a room, apologizing when you opened the door to see Nora and Topper making out. You stumbled through the halls until you found an empty room, sighing in relief as you closed the door behind you.
Your relief was short-lived because you didn't realize that Rafe was following behind you the entire time, and when he entered the room, you instantly regretted isolating yourself from the rest of the party and your friends.
“No.” you panicked, anxiety rising deep within your stomach.
He was intentionally standing in front of the door. There was no way out.
“Hey, Listen, y/n-,” Rafe said calmly, trying to calm you down.
“No! Get away from me!” you interrupted words slurring, not wanting to hear a thing from him.
You had no desire to speak to Rafe, not after all he had put you through in your relationship, not after you had been in therapy for the past month to heal the pain he had caused you. He wasn't just a regular ex, Rafe was fucking crazy, and you both knew it; you knew he was waiting to see you in person again, probably planning it, planning out exactly how he was going to get you back and what he was going to do if you declined his offer.
“Can you just listen to me!?” he snapped at you, slightly losing his calm demeanor. “I just want to talk-” He said through his teeth, walking over to you and away from the door.
“Well, I don't want to talk!” you barely even knew what you were saying; your head was spinning, and you regretted every shot you had taken earlier.
“So that's how it's gonna be, huh?” Rafe mumbled to himself more than you, fist clenching as he spoke.
As he got closer and closer, the room seemed easier and easier to escape; you knew you couldn't scream for help because of the loud music banging throughout the house; no one would hear you, and you knew you couldn't put up the best fight because you were drunk and Rafe’s also way stronger than you, he had proved this time and time again.
So you took the opportunity to run for the door while you still could. But two steps in, Rafe had already caught you and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly against his stiff chest.
“I didn't want to make this complicated.” he hissed into your ear. “But come on, y/n, it's almost like you want me to hurt you.”
You thrashed your body, wiggling side to side, trying to escape his grip.
“You’re fucking crazy!” You shouted as you continued to attempt to free yourself.
“Yes! I'm crazy,” Your ex admitted as his grip around you tightened, and his nostrils flared. “I'm crazy for you.” he dug his nails into your side.
“Get off of me!” you cried out, voice raw with emotion.
“You come to my best friend's party wearing the fucking dress I hate! Knowing I'm going to be here!” he criticized, pushing your body towards the bed. “It's almost like you want me to take it off.”
“Rafe, stop, I-” you were cut off by Rafe throwing you on the bed and wrapping his hands around your throat as he hovered over you.
“Shut the fuck up!” He sneered, looking down at you with dark eyes.
“You fucking left me!” His grip got tighter the more he spoke. “Not even a call, but a fucking text.” he scolded. “Do I really mean that little to you?”
You didn't end things the way you did because you didn't care about Rafe; you cared about Rafe so much, more than you ever wanted to, and that hurt; throughout everything he's done to you, all the pain he's caused you, you still cared. You broke up with Rafe over text because you were terrified; he had threatened to kill you over an Instagram follow; you couldn't imagine what he would have done if you dared to break up with him in person.
But you couldn't say any of that because he was choking you so hard that you couldn't breathe, let alone speak; all you could do was hit his hands repeatedly, hoping he would let go.
“You didn't care about my feelings. Why should I care about yours?” He asked you, looking deeply into your bloodshot, teary eyes with his blue angry ones.
Your mind was racing; Rafe was actually going to kill you. You saw this day coming many times throughout your relationship, but you didn't expect it to happen when you guys were finished. You had shared your body, your mind, everything with him, and you had been happy it was over; you finally were starting to feel like yourself again. But now he was going to take that all away from you.
Rafe finally let go when he started to see your eyes roll back as you started to lose consciousness.
You gasped for air in between coughs as you held your throat, desperate to soothe it from the pain he caused with his harsh grip. You had accepted death. You knew exactly who you were dealing with, and the thought of him killing you over a breakup wasn't too far-fetched.
“You have a lot of making-up to do after the stunt you pulled last month,” Rafe sighed as if he was inconvenienced by what he was doing to you.
The stunt you pulled? Your break up was serious, and for a good reason; he was lucky you hadn't called the police; if anyone had pulled a ‘stunt,’ it was him. He had pulled a series of stunts throughout your whole relationship. He was pulling one now.
Before you knew it, Rafe was tugging at your dress, attempting to pull it off you. If there was one thing you weren't doing, it was going down without a fight. You tried your best to kick him and scratch him, everything, but you were drunk, had just been choked, and Rafe was much stronger than you, so he pinned your wrist above your head with one hand and pulled the bottom of your dress up with the other.
“Remember this, y/n,” He said as he positioned himself up against your cunt. “Remember this feeling the next time you think about trying to leave.” He taunted before pushing into you roughly.
As he thrusted into you repeatedly at a rough and harsh pace, you sobbed. You thought Rafe was behind you; you told yourself you would never let a man hurt you the way he did again. You were so happy when he was gone.
“Fuck, take this off,” Rafe moaned as he pulled your dress over your head.
With every hash thrust, your cries got louder. Rafe didn't care about your pleasure or even his; he wanted to hurt you; he wanted to see your tear-stained face. This was your punishment, and he was succeeding. The only thing you felt between your legs was severe pain.
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” you heard everyone downstairs scream in unison.
“Happy New Year,” Rafe smirked as he pulled you in for a rough, sloppy kiss.
Rafe was fucking crazy.
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futureman · 5 months
Text
you're a mean one, mr. miller
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: you and ellie decide the solution to joel's grinch-like approach to the holidays lies in finding him the perfect gift
warnings: jackson era, grumpy old man!joel, significant other!reader, fluff, mild angst, gift giving, christmas at the miller's, so many polaroids
word count: 3.8k
12 days of pedro masterlist - ty to @hellishjoel for organizing this project <3
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The Miller household always gets a little tense around the holidays. When the days shorten and snow begins to fall, Joel throws himself into patrols and plans for winter-proofing Jackson, and it's all he'll talk about for months. It's obvious he does it on purpose. 
Christmas is basically an unspoken no-no under his roof, and there might as well be a swear jar for the word if his reaction is any indication. He refuses to acknowledge it and only tolerates the day itself because he knows it makes you and Ellie happy. 
You just wish it made him happy, too. You know it used to. Every year, Tommy regales stories about their Christmases in Austin as kids, and later with Sarah. Joel loved Christmas. 
They used to visit the tree farm, pick the tallest, fullest tree they could fit in their living room, and decorate it the very same day. Their attic and even parts of their garage were home to lights and tinsel in every color you could think of, and ornaments Sarah brought home from art classes and the yearly holiday fair at school.
All of that changed after the outbreak. It wasn't just her passing that did it. It wasn't even the threat of death or worse lurking around every corner. It was time. 
Joel just got used to life without it. After 22 years of missed holidays, he decided he didn't actually miss them at all. He couldn't afford to spare precious resources or energy on anything that wasn't necessary for survival. But that isn't the point of Christmas, is it? 
You celebrate your loved ones and their joy. You celebrate life. Here in Jackson, he finally has all of that, but if Joel is anything, he's a stubborn man set in his ways. You can tell he's still resistant to the idea because he genuinely believes there are better uses for his time.
You can also tell he's afraid to let his guard down. You just haven't figured out a way to show him he doesn't have to be. No one's safety is guaranteed in the world you live in, but you're protected now. And that responsibility isn't solely on him anymore.
If you could give him anything for Christmas this year, it would be peace. One day, even just a few hours of tensionless shoulders and a wrinkle-free brow would be a gift for all of you. He deserves to enjoy something merry and cheerful again, just for the sake of it.  
So, you ask the person who knows him best in the world for help.
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"What do we think about getting Joel a Christmas gift this year?"
Ellie glances up from her guitar with the most incredulous look you've ever seen on her face. 
"Depends. Do you have a death wish?" she jokes, draping her arm over her instrument so she's sitting more comfortably. She's settling in—you both know this is about to be a painful conversation.
"No, but—," you sigh, leaning against the door behind you. It's still chilled, even through your coat, from when you barged into the shed and interrupted her practice. "I don't know. He wouldn't make that big of a deal, would he? It doesn't have to be anything flashy, just something small. Something nice."
"So, you wanna get Joel something nice for a holiday he hates? That makes total sense," she says, rolling her eyes.
You don't appreciate the sarcasm, but you expected it. She knows as well as you do that Joel won't be thrilled by the gesture, if he even accepts it.
"El, come on. I could really use your help here," you try to appeal to the part of her that usually can't say no to you, and thankfully she's starting to cave. "If there's anyone who can come up with a present Joel will actually like, it's you."
She sighs. Her fingers drum an arrhythmic beat on the wood grain while she thinks, a habit she must've picked up from Joel.
"Look, Joel's not really a 'thing' kinda guy," she replies, and she's probably right. He's never been the kind of guy who has physical attachments. "When's the last time he actually gave a shit when something broke or got lost? Even his watch is broken."
"Yeah, but that's different. You know it's different," you counter softly. But you can see the point she's trying to make. "Okay, so we don't get him a 'thing'."
She nods, waiting for you to offer another idea, but you're even more stumped than you were when you got here. 
"Maybe you can draw him something?" you grimace, grasping at straws now.
"His house is full of shit I've drawn," she deadpans. "Plus, I thought this was an us gift. That sounds like a 'me doing all the work' gift."
You let out a frustrated groan, and your head thunks dully against the door. You knew this wasn't going to be an easy task, but you thought it would at least be possible. Joel's a complicated man—it's one of the things you love most about him—but his wants and needs are surprisingly simple. 
He loves a home-cooked meal, especially meat and potatoes. He enjoys cold beers with Tommy on the porch during the summer and walking Ellie through complicated picking patterns when she's stuck on a song. He likes relaxing on the couch and watching old Westerns or cheesy action movies, and craves your body, soft and pliant, under his after a frustrating day on patrol.
But you want this to mean more than any of that. A special something that goes beyond the norm to loosen some of the springs that keep him wound up tight and constantly in motion. 
You glance around Ellie's space as your hope begins to dwindle, and the corkboard above her bed catches your eye. It's always been there, covered in doodled-on scrap paper and photos of her family and friends, and you're positive you've seen it hundreds of times since you've been in Jackson. But this time, it gives you an idea. The idea.
"That Polaroid camera you found in Eugene's basement—the one in the library. Does it work?"
Ellie's brows furrow at your sudden question. She clearly didn't expect it, but you're hoping she'll be on board once she finally catches on.
"Uhh, yeah, Cat and I were messing around with it the other day. Worked pretty well for us," she replies hesitantly, pointing at the entertainment console next to you. "It's next to the PlayStation."
Humming in response, you squat in front of the shelf to inspect it. It's in great condition, even better than you expected. Even the flash button lights up and whirs just like you remember. 
Before she can protest, you whip around and snap an extremely candid, brightly lit photo of her. If the look on her face is the same one you just caught on film, then you're already off to a great start.
"Dude, what the fuck? What was that for?" she groans in annoyance, blinking the bright spots out of her vision.  
"A scrapbook," you grin. "For Joel."
She's still glaring at you as she rubs her eyes, but she bites back whatever retort she was about to say. You watch her expectantly as she chews on the idea, relief blooming in your chest when she finally nods.
"I guess that could work," she says slowly, still thinking over the logistics in her head. But then she frowns. "When exactly did you plan on taking all those photos? Not to be a downer, but Christmas is in like, a week."
Damn, she's right again. It'll be hell in a handbasket to fill an entire scrapbook in that amount of time, and even if you manage it, it'll be a half-assed attempt at best.
No, if you're going to do this, then you're going to do it right. No rushed or slapstick presents for the man who already hates Christmas—Joel deserves better than that.
"What if we let Joel do his bah-humbug thing one last time? That's probably his idea of a perfect gift, anyway. Then next year, it'll be this," you hand her the fully-developed Polaroid.
It shows Ellie hugging the guitar Joel made for her, but there's no sign of the shocked annoyance that followed the camera flash. Instead, she's smiling. She has that rare, unguarded expression on her face, the one reserved only for people she trusts. It's a tender moment of peace, forever frozen in time.
She looks up at you, and you can see it in her eyes. She gets it, now.
"You do realize it's still a 'thing' present though, right?" she interjects playfully, and you have to resist the urge to grab the wood polishing cloth on the table next to you and swat her with it.
"Yeah, but it's a sappy thing. Admit it, Joel's a huge sap and you know it. You said it yourself, his house is basically a glorified fridge with your art magnetized to the walls."
She rolls her eyes again, but you can see the smile tugging at her lips. She knows it's true.
"So, you'll help me?" you ask, daring to hope that she'll agree.
"As long as you don't pull this shit again, I'll do whatever you want," she lifts the Polaroid, shooting you a dirty, but affectionate look before handing it back to you.
A grin breaks out across your face, and you bolt across the room to hug her awkwardly around the instrument still sitting in her lap. She places it down so she can wrap her arms around you properly. 
Physical affection has never really been Ellie's thing but if you catch her at the right moment on the right day, you might get lucky. Today, you do.
"So, when do we get started?" she asks, pulling away.
"Right now," you reply, unable to contain your excitement. For the first time in over two decades, Joel Miller might actually have a merry Christmas, and that's something to celebrate. 
"Now?" she gapes at you, looking over her shoulder longingly at her guitar as you drag her out of the shed. She barely has enough time to grab a coat before you're out in the cold with nothing but each other, a camera, and a plan.
"Now." 
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ONE YEAR LATER
Jackson in the spring is one of the most beautiful things you've ever seen, even among your memories of the world pre-outbreak. Snow remains on the mountain peaks in the distance, but the foliage below blooms with the promise of warmer weather. Somehow, you managed to capture it all—fresh flowers in the shop windows, friends and neighbors shedding their coats and congregating in the streets, and the post-winter excitement that spreads more and more with each sunny day. 
You hid the stack of photographs in an empty jumbo box of tampons in the hall closet, positive they’d be safe from Joel’s prying eyes while you and Ellie continued your mission.
In the summer, two new foals were born, and Ellie and Maria spent almost every day at the stables to help out where they could. They even named them—Shimmer was Maria’s choice, and Ellie named the other Callus just to piss off Joel. Not only did it work, but it resulted in some of the cutest pictures of the season. 
Joel and Tommy built a porch swing for Maria and their rambunctious toddler and spent countless balmy nights drinking Tommy's extra-strength whiskey and shooting the shit. They even broke out their guitars every so often and managed to bully Ellie into playing with them once or twice. You caught that on camera, too. 
Slowly but surely, the memory box filled up, and the photos were transferred to a scrapbook you and Ellie made yourselves—with a little local help. One of the school teachers happened to be a former librarian with a bookbinding hobby, and graciously gave you a treasure trove of old, tattered books that were perfect for your project. 
By autumn, everything was falling into place. Ellie adorned those pages with painted leaves in shades of red, orange, and yellow to complement the photos you took at the town’s annual Harvest Festival and Thanksgiving potluck. You hopped around from booth to booth, table to table, and thanked your lucky stars that Eugene was a hoarder and held onto every pack of film he found over the years.
Now, it's the night before Christmas and you have a single shot left. One last photo intended for the final page, but you can’t think of anything you haven’t already documented. Looking around Tommy’s living room, there are plenty of moments you’d love to capture, and yet none of them feel like the moment. 
How the Grinch Stole Christmas plays in the background while you sit on their couch, curled into Joel’s side with Ellie’s head on your lap, but you’re barely paying attention, still lost in your thoughts. Joel isn’t paying attention, either—he was unsurprisingly averse to the movie to begin with—so when you don’t laugh along with everyone else at the Grinch’s antics, he immediately knows something’s up. He kisses your temple, careful not to jostle Ellie.
“What’s got you so in your head you’re not even laughin’ at Jim Carrey? I thought you loved this movie,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear. His familiar Southern twang somehow warms you up more than the fireplace crackling next to the television. 
“I do. I think I’m just getting a little sleepy, is all,” you reply softly, sagging into him. “Winter dance prep sucked this week. It’s like everyone conveniently forgot they volunteered to help.”
He nods, mumbling an apology into your hair.
“Guess that makes sense. All that runnin’ around you’ve been doing with that camera of yours probably ain’t helpin’ either,” he says offhandedly, and your brows furrow in response.
It’s not the first time he’s mentioned your sudden interest in photography, but with his gift sitting less than 10 feet away under Tommy and Maria’s Christmas tree, it seems more than a little suspicious. You catch Ellie glancing up at you in your peripheral, and you meet her gaze as discreetly as you can.
“Yeah, maybe,” you laugh it off, hoping it doesn’t sound as tense to Joel’s ears as it does to yours.
“What are you doin’ with all of those photos anyway? I swear, you take ‘em and then they disappear into thin air,” he presses on, none the wiser.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you joke, shaking your head as if that’ll shake off all of his incoming questions. But it doesn’t work nearly as well as you hoped.
“Y’know, I was wonderin’ that myself,” Tommy interjects from the recliner to your right. “You’ve been takin’ photo after photo for almost a year, and I don’t think I’ve seen a single one.”
Maria scoffs next to him, coming to the rescue before you’re forced to come up with a believable explanation. 
“Mind your own damn business,” she smacks him in the chest, then shoots you a sympathetic look. 
You asked for her help not long after you and Ellie started planning Joel’s gift, so she knows how important this is. The last thing she’s going to do is let her husband’s need to stir the pot ruin it. But Tommy’s not the type of guy to give in that easily.
“I’m just sayin’, might be nice take a look at ‘em. You probably got some good ones of the kids in there, ‘specially from birthdays and holidays—,” he manages to get out before Ellie cuts him off.
“Can you guys have this conversation somewhere else? Some of us are actually trying to watch the movie,” she sits up from her spot on your lap to glare in his direction. 
Then, Tommy abruptly stands like something just occurred to him and strides across the room to the mantle above the fireplace—right where you set the camera down earlier. Your heart leaps into your throat. 
“Hold up. This thing’s still got one shot left, don’t it?” he asks excitedly, and you’re not sure how to shut him down without drawing too much attention to yourself or sounding mildly hysterical.
“Well, yeah, but—“
“Oh shit, s’got a timer and everythin’,” he continues, fiddling with its limited settings. He turns back towards the rest of the group and holds up the camera with a grin. “C’mon, everybody get together. We’re takin’ our first official Christmas card photo.”
“But, Tommy—,” you try again, but you’re drowned out by Joel’s sad attempt to leave the room.
“Look, I said I’d watch the movie, but I sure as hell didn’t agree to take a damn Christmas photo,” he grumbles, moving to stand, but you latch onto his flannel before he gets too far. He softens at your downtrodden expression and settles back in.
“Just to be clear, m’doin this for her, not for you,” he amends his previous statement gruffly, throwing an arm around your shoulder. You kiss his cheek gratefully, and Ellie pretends to gag as she shuffles to sit between your legs.
“Whatever you say, big brother. All you gotta do is sit there and look pretty. Think you can handle that?” Tommy teases him, making one final adjustment to the camera's placement. “Alright y’all, here we go.”
He sets the timer, then runs to the couch, squishing into the only available spot between Maria and an armrest. Everyone huddles together with varying levels of smiles and grimaces on their faces while you wait for the camera to go off. Except, it doesn't.
“Wait, how long did you set the timer for?” you peer around Maria to see Tommy looking genuinely dumbfounded.
“…Does it not just go 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, shoot?” he asks sheepishly.
"Oh my god, are you kidding me?" Ellie groans, leaning back against you, and the entire couch bursts out laughing. 
And in that moment, the flash goes off.
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Yeah, this is the one.
The photo in your hands feels like the culmination of every memory you made and preserved in the past year. Five faces—and one tiny sleeping one—look up at you, fully developed and as happy as you've ever seen them.
Tommy and Maria sit side by side with their son in her lap, their heads thrown back in laughter. Next to them, Ellie sits between your legs, mid-knee slap, as you cackle with your chin resting on top of her head.
And then there's Joel, grinning from ear to ear as he looks on at the family he's fought so hard to protect. The family that's safe and sound, and enjoying an ordinarily special day, just for the sake of it. You can only hope that a book full of photos and everything it represents will be enough to convince him once and for all that it's the truth.
As you slide the final Polaroid into place, Joel sidles up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist.
"What's all this?" he watches curiously as you close the book and swipe your hand lovingly across the cover. Then, you pick it up and turn in his embrace, leaning back against the kitchen counter. 
"A gift," you reply carefully, hugging it to your chest. 
You glance over to where Ellie's still sitting in the living room, but she shakes her head and offers you a small smile, her delicate way of telling you that you're on your own. You take a deep breath before continuing.
"It's a Christmas present from me and Ellie," you explain, hoping to convey even a fraction of what this means to you. "Look, we know this isn’t necessarily your favorite day, but...we still wanted to do something nice for you."
He nods, his expression frustratingly unreadable. But then he does something unexpected.
"Y'gonna keep huggin' it or are you gonna show it to me?" he drawls jokingly, and your brows shoot up in shock.
"You wanna see it?" 
His face falls, and you immediately feel terrible at the brief wave of hurt that crosses his features. You didn't mean to sound so surprised, but you didn't anticipate this easy acceptance.
"'Course I do. The two of you spent a whole year workin' on this thing, why wouldn't I?"
That grin you know he loves lights up your entire face, and you turn to place his gift back on the counter. Flipping to the first page, you step aside and let him explore it for himself.
He takes in each moment of each season slowly, running his fingers across Ellie's doodles between photos and in the margins. Spring is framed by butterflies that you're somehow just realizing are painted in all of Sarah's favorite colors. 
Ellie added so many painstaking details you'd never talked about. You're not even sure how she knew something like that, but you're grateful it's there. Joel notices it too, and reaches down to take your hand, gripping it tightly for the rest of the book. 
He's silent as flips through summer and fall, and when he finally reaches winter, you feel him begin to tremble beside you. 
The last page sits open in front of you, the photo from earlier flanked on either side by notes from you and Ellie. As he reads, then rereads them, you can see the cogs turning. He's starting to understand why you did this—and how something as simple as a photograph isn't just a look back on a life well-lived. It's a reminder to keep living.
“This is…,” his brows furrow as he tries to find the words to express the conflicting thoughts racing through his head.
“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t get you anything," is what he ultimately settles on, but when he looks up at you, his eyes are wet. You immediately drop his hand to cup his cheeks.
"You didn't need to. I have everything I've ever wanted right here," you tell him gently, brushing away the tears threatening to fall. 
You glance over at the familiar faces in the living room, the same ones looking up at you from the page below, and he follows your gaze. The tension in his body begins to bleed away the longer he watches them, and you learn the wrinkle in his brow isn't actually the permanent fixture it always seemed to be.
He reaches up to cover one of your hands with his own, and you can feel his heart racing through his fingertips. In the back of your mind, you wonder if this is the moment it happens. If his heart grew three sizes bigger today, and if he's finally ready to give himself the gift of peace.
“Merry Christmas, Joel Miller," you whisper, kissing him deeply as the sweet voice of Cindy Lou Who brings the movie credits rolling in the distance to a close.
thanks for reading and happy holidays!
dividers by @saradika-graphics
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fuckmymunson · 1 year
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thinking abt steve and robin teasing eddie about how nervous he gets around reader and how she probably ruins him in bed.
little do they know, he’s the one that ruins her, teasing her until shes begging him to fuck her and then fucking her into the mattress until she can’t think about anything but him🥴
💌; Oh fuck yeah, definitely. Especially because Robin and Steve helped him to fucking rehearse asking you on a date... Which didn't end up as expected. Not mattress because I'm in the mood of wanting to be fucked in a car sorry I love u anon.
💌; 18+!, smut, minors DNI. Oral sex (m), a lil' of facefucking, the tiniest bit of mean!Eddie (if you squint, like he's not even mean?), dirty talk (he says slut like 1 time), facials <3.
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"Again! From the start, come on Munson you can do it" Robin sighed from her place in Steve's couch.
"Can I please take this fucking thing off?" Steve groaned from his place in the kitchen, referring to the cheap party shop wig he was wearing. It wasn't even your hair color.
"No you can't, now bring your ass over here, and please make a better impression, she doesn't sound like that, she's not permanently congested" Robin yelled from the living room and shook her head. "This cheap actresses that I gotta work with..."
"Hey! I heard that!" Steve yelled back. "Can we please focus?" Eddie complained from his spot on the living room as well, rubbing his face with frustration. "She would never go out with me! I can't even talk to her without stuttering and getting all flustered and—"
"But that's why we are here, dumbass" Robin interrupted him, crossing her arms over her chest. "So you can practice your pick-up lines on our cheap harlot" "Hey!" Steve chirped, again. "I'm not cheap!" "So you are a harlot" Robin laughed. "I can't do this" Eddie ignored them, already sinking on a spiral of anxiety and disappointment.
Unbeknownst to him, or anyone really, a certain someone knocked on Steve's front door. Their voices combined and Eddie's tantrum muffled the gentle knocks. The door was unlocked, and you saw Eddie's van, so you might as well just invite yourself in.
As you walked in, your eyes met the back of a leather jacket, Eddie was unaware of your presence as he continued rambling about how much he hated himself for being an illiterate fuck. Robin, on the other hand, saw you— But quickly pretended not to, instead, she pinched the bridge of her nose. She only had one chance to pull this card.
"Okay, Munson. Let's pretend she is here" Robin called your name and that made you stop your tracks. Were they talking about you? A lump of anxiety started forming on the pit of your stomach. "What would you say to her, if you had the damn ability to talk without sounding like an idiot?" "Well..." Eddie sighed, already feeling his cheeks reddening at the thought of your soft, caring smile, to the sweet sound of your voice. "That I like her, so, so bad. That I can't spend a single fucking day without thinking about her. How much I want to fucking yank her and kiss her every time she places a hand on my arm to ask me how my day was. Fuck, I think I'm in love with her. I wish I could tell her how fucking insane I am about her. I just want to make her happy, dude, but I can seem to form a single damn rational thought whenever I'm with her. I probably sound like an idiot" "Probably?" Steve asked from the kitchen's arch frame. He also failed to notice you. "But how in the hell I'm going to tell her all that?" Eddie gripped the end of his jacket with frustration.
"I think you just did, dumbass" Robin smiled and pointed at your direction with her chin.
Both Eddie and Steve screamed your name; One, by embarrassment of you listening to his literal love confession, and the other one because you saw him wearing a horrible, odd smelling wig.
Since then, you two had been dating. At to say it was practically like touching heaven, was bit of a understatement.
Sharing every little moment with him was absolutely amazing.
As time passed, other things started to happen as well...
It started off slowly, both of you exploring each other's bodies, learning what made you moan, cry, scream his name... Eddie was as fast as he was eager. This boy was utterly starved, and he treated you as his favorite desert, or meal, or drink, or whatever.
Robin and Steve usually bothered him of how much of a whiny bottom he was. If he had to pretend Steve was you to fucking ask you on a date (which was a disaster), how could he even have the balls to dom you when the doors were closed? They learned that under your sweet, caring façade, you were quite bossy.
"Eddie, let's go" You frowned, grabbing his arm. "It's getting late"
"But love" He whined, dragging the pet name. Sometimes he could be a pain in the ass. "I don't wanna go yet"
"I don't care, we have school tomorrow, plus you are driving me home. You're not drinking anymore" Your tone was worried and a tad annoyed, it wasn't your best day either.
"Go with your mommy, Eddiebear" Robin laughed, using the nickname she heard from you to tease him endlessly.
"Or else she will spank you" Steve joined, twisting another beer and throwing the tap around his backyard.
"Fuck you" Eddie groaned and flipped them off.
"Not our job, Eddibear" Robin snapped back and the pair started laughing until it hurt.
Eddie pouted the whole ride, already scheming what he had stored for you. You failed to notice how his eyes looked at you from head to toe, feeling already eager to bend you over the kitchen counter and have his way with you.
At the end, he couldn't wait either.
He parked the van next to a closed restaurant, closer to the alley where the trash truck drove by. Dragging you to the back of his vehicle and forcing his cock down your throat. He watched how the tears rolled down your cheeks, and how your hand sneaked between your skirt to finger your already wet cunt. Yanking your hair, he slapped your cheeks a few times for good measure.
"Keep your fucking words in line, okay?" He asked and you nodded weakly. Sucking the swollen, leaking tip of his cock.
"Sorry," You apologized, going down to lick and suck on his balls, making him groan in delight.
"What did you say, slut?" Eddie grunted and yanked your hair to rub his dick in your forehead as you choked on his balls, trying to speak. The muffled sound made him moan, close to cumming.
His hand on your hair tightened and Eddie slid his hard, thick cock inside your eager mouth again, fucking your face without any restrain, already knowing how you liked it, how soaked it made you, and of course, how much he loved it.
"F—Fuck" Eddie whined and came all over your face, pleased with your little cry of satisfaction. He watched you lick him clean and use your finger to smear it over your lips, tasting him, moaning in contentment. "Only I can fucking use you like this, did you hear me, princess?"
"Yes, Sir" You smiled and he leaned down to kiss you, shoving his tongue down your throat. "I love you, Eddie" You moaned against his lips as his free hand came down to pinch your nipples from over your thin tank top.
"I love you, princess" He sighed back, kissing you again.
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💌 Bit of a rushed ending? I don't know. Hope you like it! Mwah.
Sorry for any mistakes! English is not my first language. Thank you for reading!˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
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