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#and i never got a response. I NEVER GOT A RESPONSE
woso-dreamzzz · 21 hours
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Play, Sleep, Repeat
Arsenal Women x Teen!Reader
Summary: You're Katie's cousin
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Katie has never quite understood you.
You'd always been on the fringes of her awareness.
She has all her siblings. Her close family is big. Her extended family is even bigger.
You're her cousin, on her mother's side.
She'd never really kept up with your life. She'd see you at family reunions maybe once, twice a year and it would all be a quick conversation before she moved on.
She'd never been close enough to her uncle, your dad, to really know what was going on the two of your lives. All she really remembers was that his wife (your mother) had left him and he was a single dad.
It was surprising to see the Arsenal announcement photo with you smiling at the camera, a big Ireland flag draped over your shoulders.
It should have made her feel bad that you didn't drop a text to say you were signing but Katie didn't even know you played football until the announcement so she decided that she didn't really have room to have her feelings hurt over it.
She had hoped this would be the opportunity for you both to grow closer but, as she looks at you now, horsing down your lunch, she kind of thought that was a pipe dream.
You get up immediately after finishing, avoiding the table with the other younger players and heading back out onto the pitch.
It was like clockwork with you. You were either crashed out asleep in the break room, eating like you'd been starved or practicing for hours before or after training.
"What's up with your cousin, McCabe?" Leah asks, watching you leave as well," She never hangs around."
Katie shrugs. "I dunno. She's always been like that, I think."
"You think?"
"She's being raised by her Da. I guess she's never been around this many girls in her life."
"Surely she played on a girl's team before coming here."
Katie shrugs again.
"You don't know?"
"I've got a big family, Williamson. I hardly see her back home. Sue me for not stalking her every move."
Kim slides into the seat next to her. "I'm worried about her," She says," She's always here early and she stays late too. I've never seen her Dad pick her up."
"So what? She's a big girl."
Kim raises a brow. "I wasn't worried because she promised me that you've been dropping her off."
"What? She told me Kyra was doing that."
Kim sighs. "I got her address off Jonas. Do you and Caitlin mind popping by tonight? I'd do it myself but she might respond better to you."
Katie stands at your door a few hours after training has finished. She'd been waiting in her car for a while now, unable to believe her eyes when you'd stepped off the bus barely ten minutes ago still in your training kit.
Her hand hovers over the door, unmoving.
Caitlin nudges her to the side, pressing the doorbell.
"Hey," She says when you open it," Can we come in?"
Your eyes dart to the side. "Er..."
"Is your Da in? I need to talk to him."
"Da's busy," You say.
"That's okay. We can wait." Katie barges in and Caitlin follows her before you can stop them.
"How long will he be?" Caitlin asks and your eyes dart to the door.
"Well..."
"Have you had dinner yet?" Katie asks," 'Cause your fridge is bare."
"Stop it!" You say, pushing her out of your kitchen," Stop snooping!"
"Are these takeout boxes?"
"Katie, I mean it! Out!"
"Nah, where's your Da? Surely, he can't be letting you eat all this crap."
You mumble a response that Katie forces you to repeat. A response that gets regurgitated to every responsible adult on the team.
Your Da didn't come with you to England. In fact, your Da hadn't even be to one of your Arsenal matches.
"He'll come when I make it into the Ireland squad," You'd told Katie and Caitlin," He promised."
The team keeps a close eye on you. Your back prickles with awareness and every time you look behind you, someone is watching.
Things change as well, slowly but surely. It's enough to put you on edge.
It starts with Caitlin and Katie driving you to practice. You usually leave hours ahead of when training starts so you can get the bus and still have time to practice before it begins.
(Maybe if you have a bit extra training then Gleeson will have no choice but to call you up for the next international break).
You have no idea how long they've been camping in their car because you get up stupidly early.
They bundle you in with them. They grab breakfast at a quaint place in town before getting you to training on time.
Next comes Kim. She sits with you at lunch and talks to you enough that you finish the same time as everyone else.
Leah helps you with your kit.
Lia sits with you on the bus.
Lessi, Vic and Kyra splash you with water during the changeover at training.
Beth lets you nap against her and Viv makes sure you have a protein shake ready for you when you wake up.
Slowly but surely, you're folded into the team that is Arsenal. You existed on the fringes of life in London, focused on nothing but finally having your father support you in football.
Now though, you have the team to celebrate your goals with. You have Katie shaking you with joy when you score the last minute winner against Everton.
You also have the text from your Da nitpicking your every move in the match.
You feel lucky that he even kept the match on with how shit you were apparently making. A few months ago, you would have gone back to your own habits. A few months ago, you would have ran until your legs gave out.
But it's no longer a few months ago.
So, you just put your phone away and let Steph ruffle your hair on the way back to her seat.
You're actually part of the team now. A key part of the team if you go off how many times you've started a match.
A key part of the time if you go by how you seamlessly tackle Cuthbert and send the ball rolling straight to Caitlin to collect. You're about to stand up but Cuthbert can't stay on her feet and she stumbles, falling with a sickening crunch onto your ankle.
The scream you let out is guttural and you push her off you to grab at your ankle, as if touching it would suddenly make it feel better.
You slap the ground with your fist and scream again. Leah comes sliding in next to you, pinning your ankle to the ground with a firm hand.
"I know," She says," I know but we need to keep it still. Just stay still."
"Leah," You sob," It hurts!"
"I know," She repeats," The physios are coming straight on. Just keep it still."
Katie comes running to you next, tucking your face into her chest as you sob, shielding you from the fans.
Caitlin has taken her job at yelling at the ref, desperate to get some kind of compensation even if it was all a complete reaction.
"I...I..." You manage to get out through your tears," I don't think Gleeson's going to call me up for the break."
Lia, who had gently removed your cleat, laughs. "You don't need to focus on that right now." She peals your sock down. "But it's nice that you've still got your sense of humour."
You hiss as someone else touches your ankle.
"Hey!" Katie snaps," Careful with her!" She turns back to you. "Can you walk?"
"I don't even think I can stand up."
"You're going to be okay," She says as the stretcher is brought on," They'll fit you with a boot and you'll come back to mine."
You groan. "God, not your place."
"What's wrong with my mine?!"
"You can't cook! Can I go to Kim's instead?"
"I think I preferred it when we didn't talk."
You grin. "Didn't your Ma ever tell you lying's bad?"
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dollfacefantasy · 2 days
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hiiii Kenny! here to request re6 Leon taking you out to dinner while controlling the vibrator you’re wearing. him just calling you princess and good girl because you’re trying so hard to keep a straight face while he makes you come repeatedly. then maybe he fucks you in the bathroom because neither of you can wait until you get home? 🤭🤭🤭
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pairing: sugar daddy!leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: leon figures your dinner date is a good a time as any to test out the new toy he bought you.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, vibrating panties, public sex, slight exhibitionism, daddy kink, age gap (20s, 36), mirror sex
word count: 3.8k
a/n: yippie thank you so much for the request! it was right up my alley. i changed it to be sugar daddy leon cause that's what i was feeling. i hope you and everyone else enjoy <33
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The points of your heels click against the hard ground as you traverse across the restaurant and find the seat waiting for you. It was in the back corner of the dining room. The same table as always. You pull out the chair and sit down, slinging your small handbag over the right corner.
"Hi, daddy. Sorry I'm late," you say with a grin.
The federal agent sitting across from you doesn't share your look of amusement. He puts the menu down and his hard eyes cast upon your face before drifting down your body. You knew he had a hard time being irritated with you when you got all dolled up for him. Your hair was styled just the way he liked it, your makeup applied with a precise hand, and your dress was the best part of all. It was his favorite color to see on you, shimmering in the dim lighting. It hinted at your figure while still leaving his mouth watering with the desire to rip it off.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that in public?" he mutters.
"Keeping it a secret won't make you feel less icky about liking it," you tease.
Leon chooses to ignore your remark and instead takes your hand. His thumb rubs up and down your fingers, feeling the soft skin. His gaze traces over every little line on your unblemished knuckles. Your hands were always clean, never littered with callouses, cuts, or bruises. Your nails were pretty too, pointy and painted. His money well-spent.
"Why were you late?" he asks and returns his eyes to you.
"Traffic," you offer and shrug, sipping the drink he'd ordered for you before you arrived.
"That's not what Devon told me," he says, "He said you took an extra fifteen minutes to get ready."
Your eyes reach the ceiling with how hard you roll them. Devon is the driver Leon has take you almost everywhere. 
"He's such a snitch," you mumble. You go to retract your hand from his grasp, but he doesn't let you.
"You're not in trouble, baby," he chuckles, "I just wanna know what you were doing."
You stare at him for a moment before sighing. "If you must know, I was putting on the present you sent me," you answer, "It just was a little confusing at first so it took me a minute."
"Confusing?" he asks, the confession bringing out that smile he hid most of the time.
"Yes, confusing. It didn't come with any directions," you say like it's obvious. You quiet down further to explain the next part. "I didn't know if the vibrator was already inside or not, but then it fell out and it took me a minute to slide it back in."
"Alright," he chuckles, "That makes sense. And that's all you had to say. No need to be so defensive."
You smile, and you're starting to relax into the rhythm of how your outings with him typically go. Putting your drink down, you scan over the menu to try and decide what you want. He lets go of your hand and gives you a minute to look over the options.
"What do you think you're gonna get?" you ask.
Upon receiving no response, you look up at him. You find his attention focused elsewhere as he's looking down, fidgeting with his phone.
"It's no fair that I can't go on my phone when I'm with you, but you can go on yours when you're with me," you huff.
He still doesn't say anything which irritates you further. Sure, he was older than you, but he wasn't at the age where texting takes up one's entire mental capacity and renders them silent.
"If you're texting some other girl, I can just give you some privacy because-" you start to tease. You're cut off when the device between your legs whirs to life. You bring your hand up to cover your mouth, trying to conceal your initial reaction.
Leon simply smirks at you. His thumb moves in slow circles on the screen of his phone, similar to how he'd move the digit if it was on your clit.
"So cagey tonight," he teases lowly as he watches you squirm and adjust to the thrumming sensation. "And you know, if I say it's fair, it's fair. All I ask for is your time and your affection. If I let you go on your phone, you couldn't give me your affection, and my time would be wasted."
Even from behind your hand, he can hear the little pants you're letting out. His thumb slows down further, dropping the vibrations to a lower level. He taps the screen quickly and slides it under the table to rest on his thigh. The stimulation was constant on that teasing setting, no longer requiring him to manually operate it.
"I know," you breathe, finally able to remove your hand from your mouth. You grip the edge of the table though. The toy may not have had you screaming, but the consistent buzzing against your most sensitive spot definitely had you a little off balance.
"Good girl," he says with a look that felt almost as good to you as the vibrator did.
There's a brief silence between the two of you. You're simply trying to hold in your soft whimpers while he watches on in amusement. Taking your lip between your teeth, you decide that a distraction would be the best way to avoid humiliating yourself.
"So... how was your last mission? Seems like you weren't gone as long as usual," you say.
"It was fine, honey. Don't worry your pretty little head about that stuff," he says.
His hand slides under the table, and his fingers flick a few more controls. The vibrations evolve to a stronger rumble, killing any further questions before they could even make the leap from thoughts to words. Your eyes screw shut for a moment. Your head's natural inclination is to tilt backwards, but you force it the other way, stretching your hand across your eyes.
"There you go, princess. That's my girl," he coos, "All you need to worry about is keeping yourself under control. You don't have to think about anything else."
He can hear your breaths getting sharper. To anyone else, you probably looked like you had a headache. Or maybe like you'd just heard some bad news. That would've been the case if he didn't have this little toy handy. Instead he gets to adore you from across the table, admire the beauty that seeps from every pore and orifice on your body.
To Leon, that was the beauty of your relationship. He cared for you deeply. He'd take a bullet for you without a second thought, stop his own pulse if that's what it took for yours to continue. But he still didn't call you his girlfriend. You were his baby, his darling, his princess, the only one he longed to be with, yet he didn't officially claim you.
It didn't bother you so much since he spoiled you rotten and treated you as if you were his in every way that mattered, but the state of limbo he held you in weighed on him. He craved more with you; letting you move in, buying you a ring instead of another set of lingerie, cumming deep inside of you rather than on your stomach. 
But with a girlfriend came obligation. He'd have to tell his girlfriend he'd been having nightmares since he came home from this last assignment. He'd have to let his girlfriend know he had an ache in his shoulder that wouldn't go away. He'd have to watch your face fill with worry while his heart sank with the guilt of roping you into his bullshit.
For now, this was better. Watching you ascend to paradise in the middle of this restaurant while everyone around you remained ignorant would suffice for the time being.
He'd been so wrapped up in his thoughts, he'd missed the signs that you were fast approaching the edge. Your chest was puffing more frequently while it looked like the table might snap under the pressure of your iron grip. Reaching over to you, he takes your hand back into his. Your fingers clasp around his own just as tightly as they had held the table. He swears he can feel the vibrations from between your thighs emanating through your blood and pulsing against your skin.
"Look at you, baby. Such a pretty girl," he whispers, "Think you can cum before the waiter gets here? Or are you gonna try to be stubborn and hold it?"
You're honestly unsure whether you can speak without it turning into a moan, but you force yourself to spit the words out.
"Gonna cum."
Shudders overtake you, and he can see the way you fight to maintain your posture. Your body wants to convulse and explode, to let everyone in this place know just how good you're feeling. Your hand is locked on his now. He doesn't think a crow bar could pry you off in this state.
"That's it, sweetheart. Just cum for daddy," he croons quietly, "Let it all out. Such a good girl staying so quiet. I'm so proud of you."
The words make your eyes roll back behind the lids. Your thighs squeeze against one another, only intensifying the power of the vibe. He's shifting in his seat too at this point. He'd been able to stave off his boner so far, but seeing you come undone in front of him was too far. There was no way to prevent his blood from flowing South and stiffening up his length.
"My baby, so precious," he says, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, "I know that felt so good for you, princess."
You lazily nod as you float back down to reality. Your breathing becomes deeper as the high of the orgasm fades into the blissful haze of the afterglow. He even gives you a tiny break and puts the vibrator back on the lower setting.
"Thank you, daddy," you whimper. It was a reflex at this point. Thanking Leon for letting you cum was like day turning to night. One naturally followed the other.
"Don't worry about it, sweet girl. This is what I bought those panties for," he says.
As your body begins to calm down, your hand covers your mouth and your eyes stay locked on the table. The waiter comes by only a minute or two later. You still don't look up because you know Leon will handle this for you.
And he does. He orders for himself and then for you too. As soon as the waiter's pen scrapes across his notepad for the final time and he heads away, you peer up at Leon through your lashes.
"You ok, baby?" he chuckles.
You nod which only amplifies the smug look on his face.
"Good. I think you're ready for some more then," he says.
"Don't-" you start to protest. But before the rest of your statement can come out, he's already boosted the buzz to the higher setting it was at minutes ago. The only difference is that this time the rhythm is pulsating. It's more random. It won't make you cum as fast, but it will get you squirming all the same.
"What was that?" he mocks.
"Shut up," you whimper.
Each wave of pulsating pleasure made you tighten up and press your thighs together which in turn pushed the device harder against your cunt. It was a vicious cycle that had your mind spinning, unable to break out.
"Shut up? That's not very nice, princess," he taunts, "I'm just making you feel good. Think you should be saying thank you instead."
"I can't stay quiet again," you whine. It comes out strained. He can hear the will you have to exert to not give in to the heavenly thrumming on your center.
"Yes you can," he reassures. He takes your jaw in his hand, pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb before rubbing your chin. "I know you can. You're my good girl. You always make daddy so proud."
Your eyes flutter and a shaky breath expels from your lungs.
"I- I wanna make you proud, but... it feels so good," you say, your voice trailing off into a quiet whine.
"Oh I know it does, baby," he coos, speaking as if you were made of glass, "But you can handle it. You can handle getting your cute little pussy played with in front of all these people."
"Stop... you're making it harder," you pout.
"You're making me harder, angel," he jokes before kissing your lips gently. He then lets your chin go, but his eyes stay locked with yours. "You're doing great. This is what a little doll like you is made for, hm? To be played with."
You grit your teeth, but you still can barely restrain the mewl rising in your throat. Your head hangs forward. You use everything you have to stop yourself from melting into a puddle in your seat. You're close to cumming for the second time, and both you and him know it.
His hand goes for his phone yet again, and with a few more taps, the vibe is no longer pulsing. It's strong and constant. You didn't know how it wasn't rattling the chair beneath you. Your hands claw at the wood of the table.
"Fuck Leon," you whisper. Your legs quiver violently, and you're just grateful at this point that you were sitting down.
"Who?" he teases, grinning as you cling to your last sliver of composure.
"Daddy, sorry, mmph-" you squeak as your hips roll against the toy.
"Good girl," he purrs, "C'mon, baby. You can do it. Let yourself cum again. Just stay quiet and cum again."
It's easy to give into release again. The difficult part is staying quiet. Your face contorts in all kinds of ways to try and rein in the lewd noises that wanted to erupt from your mouth. Turning your head, you look at the wall to conceal your expressions from everyone else in the room.
"Hiding that pretty face from me, sweetheart?" he teases, "That's ok. You're being such a good girl by keeping it down. No one's even looking over here, princess. You're doing perfect for me."
The praise is enough to carry you through the high and bring you down without a sound. A light sweat is breaking out on your forehead, and you're breathing a little harder. Other than that though, nothing seems amiss. As you feel the vibrations fading away, you look up at him with half-lidded eyes.
"Still with me, dollface?" he asks mockingly.
Your head bobs up and down in a nod, but it's clear your head is still up in the clouds for the time being.
You're so precious all blissed out like this. It drives him absolutely wild. The strain of his cock against his zipper is becoming noticeably uncomfortable now, and he's eager to get rid of the tension in his pants.
His eyes flit around the room, strategizing routes for the plan that was forming in his head. Quick as a viper, he grabs your arm and pulls you to your feet. He drags you around the corner to the restroom and ducks inside. You stumble behind him, blinking in surprise at his sudden movements.
Your lips are on his as soon as the door is shut and secured. He holds you close in a deep kiss, one arm around your waist, the other cradling your head. He doesn't waste time with niceties and swipes his tongue across your bottom lip for entrance. The two of you engage in a full make out as he walks you over to the sink and flips you around.
His lips attack your neck next. He plants hot, open-mouthed kisses down your throat to your exposed shoulder. You watch in the mirror the entire time, your eyes still hazy from your previous releases.
"Couldn't wait, pretty baby," he murmurs, "Need my dessert before dinner."
You sigh pleasurably and let your head fall back against his shoulder. His hands sweep up and down your sides, squeezing your waist and groping your hips. As much as he wants to savor you and experience every inch of your body, he knows he can do that later tonight. Right now, he had to be quick.
He shimmies up the fabric of your dress to bunch around your waist and pushes your upper half forward. You brace yourself on the smooth countertop as he crouches down to be level with your throbbing cunt.
Before indulging in the luxury that was your pussy, he teases the lacy outline of the panties and gently kisses up your inner thighs.
"Sweet, sweet baby. Gonna have to buy you a pair of these for every day of the week. Don't think I'll want you wearing anything else ever again," he mumbles.
Finally, he pulls them down and stands up again. His fingers slide through the slick that had gathered between your thighs. You were practically dripping from all the time you had with the vibrator pressed to your sex.
More kisses land on your shoulder and neck while he fumbles with the buttons on his pants and frees himself. Your hand returns to cover your mouth in preparation of him entering you. He lines up and nudges the tip against your entrance.
"You ready, baby?" he coos and rubs your back, "Think you got one more in you?"
"Mhm," you hum from beneath your palm. The sound quickly escalates into a needy whine as the thickness of his cock penetrates you.
It slides in with ease, going all the way to the hilt in a matter of seconds. Your eyes roll back at first but drop back into place to stare at yourself and him in the mirror. His hands migrate to your hips and hold you steady as he begins to pump himself in and out of you.
You're a little more relaxed about your noises now given that you're in the privacy of an isolated room, but you still make an effort to muffle them. He watches you, finding all your little reactions endearing. Leaning down, he nuzzles the side of your head while thrusting.
"It's so cute that you're trying to be quiet," he coos, "You think what we're doing is a secret, baby? You think people don't know what I'm doing to you in here? They saw how wobbly your legs were, they saw the look in your eyes."
You whine at the tease, knowing the two of you hadn't made the most discreet exit. Still, you shake your head defiantly. He laughs at the gesture.
"You're lucky all I have to do to get us out of it is flash my badge or some cash. Small price to pay to take care of my slutty little girl," he taunts.
Your body rocks back and forth with his momentum. You arch your back on top of the sleek marble, gripping the clean edge harder with your free hand. The sight before you in the mirror pulls you closer to the edge with every ragged breath or hushed grunt from him. You just press your own hand harder against your lips in a weak effort to contain yourself.
"You could be completely silent, darling. That's not gonna stop anyone from seeing you dripping down your legs when we go back to the table," he says, "And you know, by the time we head out to the car, I'm sure you'll have soaked through your dress too."
His fingers dig deeper into the plump of your hips. He's squeezing so hard that his knuckles have gone white. All he's focused on is holding you in place so he can keep rutting into your warm cunt without incident. His head tilts back, and he lets out a deep groan.
"You're being louder than me," you whimper.
He chuckles at your comment and responds with a smack to your ass. It echoes throughout the bathroom and makes your face boil at the idea that someone passing by could've heard. To make matters worse, the tantalizing sting draws an audible moan from you. You have to renew your hand's strength on your mouth to keep any others in.
"That's not for you to worry about, sweetheart," he chides, "You worry about yourself. Daddy'll handle everything else."
His hips continue smacking into your ass as he fucks into you. He kneads the flesh, letting his eyes flutter shut to lose himself in the feeling of you for a few moments. You're tight and soft. Warm and wet. Taking each inch of him like it's all you ever wanted to do. He could feel the beginning of the end simmering in his belly, and it only makes him thrust harder.
Your head drops forward, the allure of the mirror no longer enough to keep you upright. Your hand falls from your face with the movement and comes down to further support your weight against the counter. Drool drips from your lips along with the soft noises spilling out unrestrained now.
"Daddy..." you mumble, "Think I'm gonna cum again."
Leon grins at the words and ups his efforts to get you there faster.
"Think? If you don't know then maybe I'm not going hard enough," he teases breathily.
"I- no.... I know it. I just... I just wanna cum," you pout. Defense or reason was too difficult to conjure in this state of mind. You wanted what you wanted and that was the priority right now.
"Go ahead then, babydoll. Daddy's right behind you," he says with a quick pinch to your ass.
For the third time tonight, your eyes close, your body goes taut, and your cunt gushes with ecstasy. You squeeze around his cock and let out a long, euphoric whine. He truly is right behind you, and his pleasure heightens with each second of that high pitched noise. It's no time till the pulsing down below intensifies and he's pushing himself all the way into your wanting pussy. He lets himself cum inside you this time. The both of you deserve it.
Rope after rope spurts into you. It satisfies him deeper than expected, sating him in a way shooting onto your skin never did. He pants behind your ear. Nothing else matters but the feeling of you connected with him in this moment.
After he's had his fill, he slowly pulls out. He takes his time not to make too much of a mess. You stand up straight and stretch out your limbs. He watches you to make sure you don't lose your footing. Then he tucks himself back into his pants. You pull your panties up and fix your dress. The both of you turn to the other, doing a quick once over to make sure nothing was too obvious.
Before heading back out, he pulls you against him again and kisses your nose.
"My perfect girl. Let's go back out there and finish dinner. I'll even let you eat in peace since you were so good for me," he teases.
"Lucky me," you reply with a lazy smile.
He brushes his nose against yours before giving you a quick swat on the ass and following you back out there. Despite the both of you feeling satisfied, he knew the night was only just beginning.
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petew21-blog · 2 days
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Like father like son, Part 1
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Father P.O.V.
My ex-girlfriend is a witch. Fucked up right? Yeah I never believed in any of this and she knew. And after cheating on her she said she would "make me believe". What a load of crap. I thought. Well, not anymore. Me and my son found ourselves in each others bodies. It happened just as we were normally chatting. We weren't that close, cause I was working most of the time and he was out with his friends enjoying his teen years. I wanted to get close to him, but he seemed to not want to open up to me.
If you have seen a movie Vice Versa where the Dad and son swap bodies while touching the skull. Or is it a transformation? Ah, doesn't matter. Well it happened a bit like that too. We swapped bodies literaly. The clothes stayed where they were previously.
After the initial shock and realisation that it was my girlfriend who caused it, we went to get information from her. My son had to drive, cause his body didn't have a license yet. The start was horrible. He couldn't even keep his eyes on the road, so I had to yell at him what to do. But eventually we got to her house.
On the front door was a note that said:"Went on a holiday for a month. And to my lovely ex-boyfriend - having sex with someone else makes it irreversible :) have fun"
Yeah, so we found out that we were fucked until she got back from her holiday. A month in my teen son's hormone filled body and him in my horny middle aged one. Our chances are very slim I tell you
We got back home, staying quiet on the ride home. We went into the living room and got on the sofa. Then we made a deal. We had to respect our bodies as if it were our own, no sex allowed, no drugs and alcohol. We had to scratch the alcohol, has David said he wants to enjoy the adulthood. But besides that we agreed on everything. We then proceeded to tell each other the details of our schedules. I had to mentally prepare for being in high school again and he had to prepare for a real job. I was actually kind of happy to get back there. I missed being a teen, having less responsibilities etc. Being you, enjoying life, music, love, sex. Ah, fuck. That's gonna be hard
We even had a talk about respecting each others privacy, but after we thought about it, we came to a conclusion that there was no way we could avoid looking at our new bodies naked. We had to take shower some day, or take a shit. All of these are gonna be pretty intimate so that's why.
We agreed that our bedroom's are gonna me our own places that the other can't got to.
And so we went on and parted our ways while leaving to our bedrooms. Maybe we shoould have went to each other's bedroom, but we haven't thought about that. All our clothes were in the other room, but neverminf. My room has its own access to the bathroom so I'll enjoy that.
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I took off my shirt first. My sons's athletic lean teen body just being there. My finger tips touching my haird, my lips my cheeks. Tracing my neck, through the ridges I now had, going down to my beautiful abs covered in hair. I was getting hard, is it weird being hard from touching your son's body? Jesus that sounds horrible. But I am not touching my son, he is touching himself, I am just the one in control now.
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I got on the ground and took off my jeans. Revealing black boxers with KISS logo and two hairy and long legs. Quite similar to mine actually. Genetics is strong I guess
I headed to the bathroom to get a proper look and clean my new body. I can't neglect my son now.
I took off his boxers. His dick flacid now, but still big. "That's my boy". I went to the bath and turned on the water. But I had no intention in lying in the water now. I had much exploring to do. I started from my feet. The beautiful and clean feet. No hard skin. I took the water and sopa into my hands and brought it up everytime I explored a part of his body. Everything wet marked a place I already knew now
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I was now soaping his body above the waist line, enjoying the tight skin of his body. Being young is so amazing. He is mostly hairless, if you don't count some private areas.
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I was now soaped up completely, just scrubbing the body up and down. Enjoying every movement I took.
Wow his butt is really nice, almost woman-like. Maybe I could let some guy fuck me. Wait, I can't do that. We can't have sex in each others bodies or we would seal the deal. But masturbation is not off the table I guess.
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I took my middle and index finger to try out the resistsance of his hole. Nah, this hole already knows what is about to happen. And then it hit me. Fuck, his prostate his so sensitive. I went and pushed my fingers inside, while my other hand started jerking my already throbbing cock.
It couldn't have been long cause I was almost collapsing from the abundance of strong emotion and stimuli. I shot cum into the bath and then got down into the water.
What a body. Maybe this month isn't gonna be so bad after all
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I got out of the shower, to find my body in his own clothes staring at me
"Wow, dad. I see you didn't waste any second huh? Hope you enjoyed it"
"Dave, it's... I'm sorry, it's the hormones. I haven't been this horny for so long. I couldn't control it"
"It's fine dad. I am gonna do the same tonight"
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The rest of the week went on pretty smoothly. There were some embarassing moments, like hearing myself having an orgasm in the other bedroom, or finding open porn videos on tv, but besides that not much. I was enjoying being a young guy in high school again and having David's friends around was really great. We hung out all the time. But his friend Liam seemed like he wanted to be more than friends with David. Which complicated things a bit. I was in David's gay body now and his body wanted Liam. But I was holding on
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One day we were on a beach just enjoying the weekend. We played some beach volleyball and then we got back to our towels to sunbathe
Andrew, my straight friend, then said:"David? Isn't that your dad with a new chick? Damn, he scored a nice one this time. Would like this one for myself too. Look at those tits."
And he was right. David was walking around with a blonde woman that had a hand on his waist. What took me off guard was that my body started making out with her and grabbing her tits. Not caring who might see.
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Wait, does this mean what I think it means? Are we really stuck like this now? I just hope he didn't have sex with her
A story request from inbox: Hi, can you write a story about a closeted widow muscle dad swapping with his straight twink son and somehow their nethaw body fits their role? The dad in his twink son's body came out as a bottom gay and the sun in his muscular dad's for found a girlfriend which he fvcks every night. Thank you
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lucysarah-c · 2 days
Text
“Then Lauren said—”
“Stop eating my carrots!” Levi slapped her hand away from the bowl.
“Ouch!” she exclaimed, pouting at him as she remained seated on the countertop. She caressed her hand, but the pain wasn't real. “Why?” she complained, playfully pretending to be hurt.
“Because I’m trying to make myself dinner,” he replied, continuing to slice up the vegetables. He momentarily pointed with his knife toward the boiling stew on the stove. “And when I asked if you were hungry, you said no,” Levi added, pushing the chopped vegetables into the bowl.
His stern gaze was quick to return when she grabbed another carrot slice. “I’m not hungry,” she insisted with her mouth full.
Levi maintained his stoic expression, one hand resting on his hip. “Is this going to be one of those times where I ask if you want something to eat, you say you’re not hungry, and then you end up eating half of my meal?”
There was a brief, intense silence until she swallowed her food and replied, “I never do that.”
Levi simply sighed and bent to pick up an extra batch of ingredients.
“Where’s your squad?” Y/N asked as she swung her legs on the countertop. Levi kept cooking, both of them enveloped in the dim light of the almost deserted kitchen.
“No idea,” Levi replied quickly. “Until tomorrow’s morning practice at 6, they’re not my responsibility.”
His girlfriend chuckled. “I bet they’re getting drunk downtown.”
“Good for them. As long as they don’t break anything that belongs to me and they’re on time tomorrow, they can get as shit-faced as they please.”
“What if they break something in the barracks?” she insisted playfully.
“Those budget issues are Erwin’s problems,” Levi said.
She laughed softly, her laughter echoing in the empty, massive room meant to hold many more soldiers than just the two of them. “I went downtown. I met up with friends from other divisions, had lunch, went shopping, had tea, saw a theater presentation, and then had dinner. What did you do all day?”
“I did a deep cleaning of our chambers,” Levi replied, a hint of resentment in his voice. “Something you were obviously not going to do. I did laundry, cleaned everything—even the clothes I was wearing. So, I lounged in my boxers in my desk chair, catching up with a book and drinking tea. When it got dark, I turned on a light, swapped the tea for whiskey, and kept reading. I spent my free day reading, having zero human interactions, and not dealing with anyone’s shitty problems. Best free day I’ve had in months.”
“Does that mean you’re done with your tasks for the day?” she asked playfully, giving him a sly look despite him being engrossed in his cooking.
Levi quickly replied, “Don’t worry, I still have plenty of time to do you, girly.” The words didn’t match his uninterested tone and expression.
But it made her chuckle anyway, mostly out of embarrassment. She softly hit his arm and complained, “Levi! A cadet might hear you.”
A subtle smirk appeared on his face, but not much more. There was a brief, comfortable silence as he put the ingredients into the boiling water and stirred them around.
“You know, I want your opinion about something Juliet told me. So I want you to be honest, be yourself,” Y/N commented. Levi simply hummed in agreement, his eyes fixed on his upcoming dinner. “But be nice,” she warned him.
Levi stopped stirring his meal, looked up at her, and said, “I can’t be both.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever. She’s dating a new guy… and I don’t think he’s good for her.”
“Like the last ten guys,” he interrupted her, “in the last eight months?”
Levi wasn’t a social person, but he was certainly up to date with his girlfriend’s gossip.
“Hey! Are you slut-shaming my friend?”
“No, your friend can sleep with the entire male population of the walls if she pleases,” Levi said casually as he moved around the kitchen. “But she has this tendency to think each one is the love of her life, and they last two weeks.”
Y/N couldn’t deny it. She sighed loudly. “She’s… a hopeless romantic.”
“Daddy issues.”
She snorted and then chuckled. “Hey! She’s my friend!” Y/N tried to defend her, but there was no conviction in her words. “…She used to have a crush on Erwin, remember?”
“Exactly. Having a crush on Erwin is the definition of daddy issues,” Levi said with a playful smile as his girlfriend burst into laughter. “Am I wrong?”
“No, no.”
Returning to stirring before heading back to the kitchen board to cut the potatoes, Levi asked, “So?”
“Oh yes,” Y/N caught herself and continued, “Well… she’s seeing this new guy. He’s in his mid-thirties, and the way she described him made me realize he’s a fuckboy and—”
“A fuckboy?” Levi quickly snapped, looking at his girlfriend, who simply hummed back, not understanding his reaction. “God,” Levi raised his hand to press on the bridge of his nose and slightly shook his head. “Your friend really has a radar for choosing the worst dudes out there.”
“I haven’t even said anything yet!” she complained. “Let me finish!”
“There’s nothing to finish,” he said. “A fuckboy, for fuck’s sake,” Levi repeated under his breath, almost cursing at the idea.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“A fuckboy, Y/N, really?” He repeated, louder this time, as if trying to make her see reason. Not sensing her understanding, he sighed loudly. “I was a fuckboy when I was 18, maybe even into my mid 20s. Yeah, maybe I fought the MPs in the underground, smoked around, got drunk, had a bunch of casual sex, and got high with Farlan. But I was 18!”
“What does that have to do with any of this—”
Levi quickly interrupted, “18! You can be a fuckboy at 18, maybe until your mid-20s,” he said. “You can’t be a shitty fuckboy in your mid-thirties! That’s not a fuckboy, that’s an unstable, immature, stupid dude,” Levi explained as his girlfriend burst into laughter, with him continuing to curse under his breath. “At this rate, he’s having a fucking midlife crisis, not being a fuckboy.”
Her girlfriend kept laughing, and he looked at her from the corner of his eye. "So. What is the fucking issue? Don't tell me your shitty friend got knocked up by that idiot."
Y/N kept laughing, tears running down her cheeks as she tried to calm down. “No,” she whispered out of breath between laughs, “it’s the opposite.”
Levi raised an eyebrow silently, questioning what she meant.
“He couldn’t get it up.”
It was Levi’s turn to chuckle. “Well… you definitely can’t be a fuckboy if you can’t get it hard… that’s for sure.”
Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @galactict3a @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 Wanna join my tag list? Here!
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oneforthemunny · 2 days
Note
Can you do more mafia!eddie and if it’s not asking to much pregnant!reader??
ofc! here's a little blurb <3 slight smut at the end. pregnant!reader x mafia!eddie so some mafia type themes but nothing graphic. mainly fulff!
Eddie huffed, a ringed hand grabbing at his curls, buzzing with adrenaline filled nerves. His voice was beginning to shake from the tightness in his throat with every shout of your name, echoing off the walls without a response.
Panicked thoughts flashed through his mind at rapid speed, sickening what-ifs and other horrific scenarios conspired by his own mind. The damning thoughts overpowered the rational, jumping to every possible worst case scenario about what could have happened to you, to the baby, the dogs that were no where to be found as well.
Eddie was ready to give up, ready to call Gareth, command a search, a war if he had to. Frantic steps towards the phone, his hands shook when he picked up the phone, Eddie was halfway through jamming Gareth's number in when he heard a bark.
Muffled, but loud and defilingly crisp enough to know it was Diablo's. Letting the phone fall, Eddie jogged towards the back door, pulling it open with such a force the hinges groaned. His free hand on his hip, pulling his gun out, flicking the safety off in a fluid motion that was muscle memory at this point.
His eyes scanned the garden, over the pool, towards the spacious back yard, lowering his gun at the sight. The boys running around, yanking and tugging their toy, running beside you to give you their toy for you to run while you walked- marched, was more like it. Arms pumping, heavy, purposeful steps up and down the length of the backyard, not slowing to toss the toy for them to fetch.
Eddie pressed his lips together, shoving the gun back in his holster. "Baby," Eddie called, trying to keep his voice light, a coo. You were sensitive these days, the slightest quip in his tone had you in tears.
You turned, continuing your walk up the grass, knees high with every step, nearly touching your swollen stomach. You were ready to pop, baby Bea due any day now- past due, really. There were talks of a C-Section, of inducing labor if she didn't come on her own.
"Baby," He tried again, walking to meet you. The sun was starting to set, but the heat hadn't eased up.
"What're you doing, sweetheart?" Eddie's voice was still tight, a forced coo to try and mask his heart that was still climbing back to a normal beat.
Vecna jumped up, letting you grab the rope toy, tossing it and sending them all running after it. "Walking." You huffed, a little out of breath from the pace. It was harder now, with a giant baby bump in your way.
Eddie swallowed a groan, taking a deep breath before jogging besides you. "Did you not hear me yelling? I was looking for you. I didn't know you went outside-"
"-I can't stay inside all day, every day, Eddie." You snapped defensively, continuing your stride, trying to ignore the burning in your back and calves. "I needed some fresh air."
Eddie bit back a huffy comment that your doctor told you to take it easy, knowing it would not be received well. Instead, he grabbed the toy from Lucifer when he brought it, flinging it far this time, trying to keep up with you in his Armani shoes.
"I know, I just couldn't find you." Eddie said, a hand reaching out to your lower back out of near instinct. "I just got worried when I couldn't find you."
You seemed to like that answer, eyes flashing and gleaming sweetly at him. A mood swing, there had never been a truer word, Eddie decided.
"I was just out here, baby." You cooed, slowing your pace, chest heaving a little, winded.
"I see that." Eddie looked at you carefully. "What are you doing? It's a little hot. Do you have a water?" He turned scanning for a cup, a water bottle, anything.
"I read that walking can get your water to break." You were nearly shuffling, eyes closed, letting your heart beat settle. You paused, looking down between your feet for anything, any sign that it had broken. "I don't think it worked." You frowned.
"She'll come when she's ready, honey." Eddie cooed, rubbing a hand on your back gently, guiding you towards the patio, desperate to get you to sit down. "You don't need to overwork yourself. It'll happen when it does."
"I'm not overworking myself." You snap, huffing with an eye roll that had Eddie flinching. Still, you let him guide you to the small patio table, settling into the cushioned chair.
"I just want her to come already." You muttered, running a hand over your swollen bump. "It feels like it's taking forever. Like she's never going to get out."
"She'll come when she's ready." Eddie snatched the water bottle of the stairs, putting it in front of you.
"She'll be here soon, sweetheart. Just don't-don't stress about it." Eddie hesitated, watching you carefully.
Your lips twitch in a snarl before bringing the bottle to your lips. Him telling you not to stress when that was quite literally all he had done felt hypocritical, but you decided against telling him that, right now, anyways.
"Maybe I should try the workout tape again." You hummed, spinning the water bottle around on the table lightly. "Or maybe you should just fuck me like the doctor said." You said bluntly.
Eddie blushed, lips twitching in a grin at your boldness. "That is not what he said."
"He said penetration." You glared at Eddie.
"He also said it could hurt you." Eddie countered. "That you're-you're softening down there or whatever-"
You rolled your eyes, scoffing loudly. "I mean, you can't fuck me mean, but you could be gentle and it would be fine." You glared at him for a moment. "But you won't because you think I'm disgusting right now."
"I do not-"
"-Clearly you do." You huffed, lip wobbling, a burning forming in your chest and throat with tears. "You won't even fuck me when the doctor is telling you to."
Eddie fought an eye roll, standing to pull you into him. Your head buried into his midsection, sniffly and furious, but allowing his affectionate touch. Another swing.
"I do not think you're hideous. I have never, not once in my life thought you were hideous, so I don't want to hear you say that anymore." Eddie's tone clipped with authority, your thighs pressing together at the sound. You'd missed it, missed him talking like this.
"I don't want to hurt you-"
"-You won't-"
"-I don't want to." Eddie lifted his voice over yours, pulling back, a hand cupping your chin to bring your gaze to him. "So you have to let me know if it's hurting you. Anything."
Damn those pregnancy books. Of course he'd read them cover to cover, front to back, taking in every bit of information he could. It was endearing, really, until times like this when he handled you like you were glass.
"I will." You nodded, holding his gaze with yours. "I promise."
Eddie relented. Of course he did. Truthfully, he'd been in agony for the past few weeks, willing himself not to fuck you in fear of hurting you and the baby. The oral was good, great even, but just not as good as the real thing.
So Eddie willed himself still, hands gripping your hips, trying to support you while fighting the blinding urge to slam you on his length, when you sunk down on his cock at a painfully slow pace.
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russo-woso · 1 day
Text
So high school || Leah Williamson
warning smut 18+, fingering, semi-public setting?
Based on this request here. Thank you for the idea :)
You and Leah had been dating for just over seven months and to say it had been the best time of your life was the biggest understatement of the century.
With the stress of your degree, constantly writing new songs for your album and dealing with the responsibility of adult life, it was Leah who brought back the fun in your life.
To the current day, you've always, and always will, say that your relationship with Leah was a high school relationship.
It was as if every time you looked at her you felt, well there's no better way to describe it other than just high school.
The day you met Leah at an event, was the day that changed your life forever.
Leah, being the confident captain she was, asked you on a date before even saying hello.
Wanting to take a change from your normal over-thinking self, you agreed.
When you said yes, you thought you'd go out for dinner with her, get bored of her and never see her again.
What you didn't expect was to end up seeing her again the following night and then again and again.
Leah made you forget about the stress in life, instead, making you realise the fun and adventures in the world.
You went from wearing a frown to wearing a smile every second of the day.
You were so happy with living like you were back in high school to the fact you purposely went out of your way to make it as fun as possible.
I wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from you
Leah had just played her first match in nine months against Reading and had managed to bag an assist, which made your heart swell with pride.
To make the match even more memorable for you and leah, you'd purchased a cardboard cut out of Leah's face.
After the final whistle blew, Leah was the first one you searched for throughout the crowd of players on the pitch.
When you clocked her, you noticed the confused look on her face as she searched the crowd for you.
As soon as you took the mask off, a smile appeared on her face as climbed over the railing to get to you.
You enveloped her in a bone crushing hug before grabbing the back of her neck, pressing your lips on hers.
"I'm so proud of you, Le." You whispered repeatedly in her ear.
"It's all because of you, baby. I couldn't have done it if it wasn't for you."
and I'm high from smoking your jokes all damn night
"I had to do this interview with the little girl I was on about and she asked if I had a joke and only one came to my head. Why was cinderella bad at football?" Because she ran away from the ball." Leah told you over FaceTime and you let out a small giggle, finding the joke genuinely funny. "I love your laugh."
"You make me laugh and you like it. Good combo, that is."
"We are a good combo, aren't we?" Leah asked and you agreed, a small laugh escaping past your lips.
"Tell me more jokes." You suggested and Leah agreed, telling you every joke she knew.
Leah didn't care how many jokes she told that night, the jokes made you laugh and that's all that mattered.
I'm watching American pie with you on a Saturday night, your friends are around so be quiet, I'm trying to stifle my sighs
It was Leah's turn to host team bonding but messing up the dates for your movie night with her, meant Leah had you knock on her door with a confused look on your face.
“What’s with all the cars? Throwing a party without me?” You joked as Leah stood there with an even more confused expression.
“Baby, what are you doing here? Not that I don’t want you here, it’s just I thought our movie night was tomorrow.” Leah pointed out, quickly pulling you in for a hug and kiss.
“Oh, I thought it was tonight. Maybe I got the days wrong. Sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry, love. It was me who got the days wrong. I remember talking about it being tonight. I’ve got team bonding tonight. We’re just about to find a movie to watch. Come, it’ll be fun, and it means I get cuddles. The team love you anyway.” Leah got excited and guided you inside. “Guess who decided to surprise us.” Leah announced to the whole Arsenal squad.
“Guess who got her days mixed up.” You teased Leah whose cheeks turned a red colour.
The girls all said hello to you as you took a seat next to Leah at the back corner of the living room.
After about half an hour of arguing over what movie you were going to watch, you all agreed on American Pie, some of the girls not watching it before, and some of them loving the film.
At the beginning of the film, Leah rested her hand on your lower thigh but as the film continued, Leah’s hand got higher and higher.
“Leah, stop it.” You warned, moving her hand lower down.
“You can be quiet, can’t you?” Leah murmured against your neck. “They won’t see or hear. Look at them all, they’re too busy watching the film.”
Leah’s fingers slide down into your underwear, her fingers teasingly circling your clit.
“Le, that feels so good.” You whisper into her neck.
You looked up to double check that nobody was watching and luckily, no one was.
Leah then dips her fingers into your pussy, making you let out a muffled moan into her neck.
It was only quiet because you stopped yourself but you made sure to not move your head from Leah’s neck.
“Faster, le. Please.” You muttered, her slow pace torturing you.
Leah listened, speeding up her movements.
“Fuck.” You whispered, a sigh leaving your mouth.
As your orgasm approached, your moans and sighs began to get pushed so Leah came up with another plan.
“Kiss me, baby.” Leah muttered, your lips colliding as she swallowed your moans.
Leah started curling her fingers as they entered you, bringing you closer and closer to your high.
“‘m gonna cum. Please don’t stop, le.” You begged, breaking the kiss before Leah brought you in for another.
After swallowing all your orgasmic moans, leah pulled away, grinning at you.
You caught your breath before showing an identical one back.
Once more, you looked around the room to see that everyone was oblivious to the fact Leah had just given you an orgasm.
“We should do that again sometime.” Leah suggested and you nodded.
Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?, It's just a game, but really
Leah had been sat down to do a TikTok for the England TikTok page.
The media team explained that she was going to do a few filters, not a lot, but enough for the fans to be content.
One of the filters happened to be kill, kiss, marry.
Leah smiled to herself, knowing that she hadn’t played the game since she was in high school.
Pressing the record button, the filter started and she was given three celebrities.
Taylor Swift, Britney Spears and Y/N Y/L/N.
“This is easy this is.” Leah laughed, not even having to think about her options.
You and Leah and announced your relationship quite early on.
Well, you hadn’t officially announced it.
When you started attending Arsenal matches with Leah, and Leah started attending your shows, fans assumed you were either friends or there was possibly something between you both.
It wasn’t until you won a Grammy for best album, that Leah was so proud, she planted a kiss on your lips before you went up to collect it.
Since then, the fans had guessed you were a couple.
“I’m gonna go, kill, Britney Spears. Kiss, Taylor Swift. Marry, Y/N.” Leah said, looking past the camera to see Kiera laughing.
“She might as well be married to Y/N. So loved up them two are.” Kiera joked and they both laughed.
Get my car door, isn't that sweet? Then pull me to the backseat
“Thank you for tonight, baby. I really needed a break.” You said to Leah as you walked out the restaurant.
With all the songwriting and studying for your final exam, Leah thought it would be nice to take you out for dinner.
Due to the popularity you both had, it was hard to find a place to go when people would constantly swarm you, however, one restaurant quite close to Leah’s house, had a separate room that was used for private events but they allowed you to use it.
“You deserve a break, love. You’ve been working so hard on your songs and your exams. I think I should take your mind off it all.” Leah sent you a playful smirk as she opened the back seat car door.
Leah helped you onto the back seats before climbing over you.
Within seconds, Leah’s lips were on yours and you were both scrambling to take your clothes off.
Breaking the kiss, Leah’s lips travelled down your jaw and into your neck, soothing sensitive hickeys from the night before.
“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re mine.” Leah told you, pressing kisses to your neck.
“I’m all yours, le. No one ever had me, not like you.”
You know how to ball, I know Aristotle
“I don’t understand this. I mean I do, but then I try the equation and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.” You explain to Leah who rubbed your back comfortingly.
“You’ll do it, baby. Stop stressing. Come on, talk me through it and I’ll try see where you’re going wrong.” Leah suggested, taking a seat next to you.
“Le, you’re kidding. You know how to ball, I know Aristotle. Not the other way round. I mean you’re clever, baby, but I think you’ll freak when you see the equation.” You slightly giggled at Leah’s confidence, but she had that cocky look on her face so you allowed her to look at it.
“Okay, maybe you’re right.” Leah admitted once you turned the textbook to her, a full page on the equation. “I’ll stick to football.”
“Good choice, baby.”
Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto
Leah was sat playing FIFA with Georgia, Kiera and Lucy whilst you were laid on the bed, next to Leah.
They had been playing all evening and now into the night, which annoyed you, because Leah had said you’d be doing something else.
“Le, how long until it’s finished?” You questioned, getting impatient.
It didn’t help that Leah had mentioned it multiple times throughout the day so it had been on your mind all day.
“Not long, love. I promise — Kiera, defend. We’re going more defensive.” Leah says, talking to Kiera through her mic, before pressing button after button on the remote.
“Le, please hurry up.” You whined, impatiently, as Leah looked at you with a saddened look.
“Baby, I promise, as soon as it’s finished. Five minutes left.” Leah told you, but you wanted her now, not in five minutes.
You moved from your original place to straddle Leah’s lap.
Leah’s eyes grew at your plan and although you thought she would continue the game, she pulled her headset off, muting herself before pulling you down into a kiss.
You could faintly hear Kiera, G, and Lucy asking where she’d gone, but you were so focused on Leah and what she was going to do, that you couldn’t hear them.
The kiss turned desperate and before long, the both of you were desperately ripping each other’s clothes off.
Leah connected her mouth to your hardened nipple, swirling her tongue around it.
Your hips bucked at the feeling, as you entangled your hand in Leah’s hair.
“Feels good.” You mumbled in pleasure before Leah moved onto your other one.
As Leah continued to suck hickeys on your body, her fingers made their way down to your pussy, gently circling your clit.
“Fuck, Le.” You breathed out, the pleasure you’d been waiting all day for, finally feeling evident.
“All mine.” Leah mumbled into your neck, her tongue moving over a fresh mark that she’d left.
“All yours.” You repeated as Leah’s finger made their way inside you.
“My girl. Only I get to touch you like this. No one else.” Leah stated, her fingers thrusting in and out of you.
“I’m close, Leah. Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.”
“Cum for me, love. Cum on my fingers.” Leah whispered in your ear as you clenched around her fingers, a moan leaving your lips along with a chant of Leah’s name.
“I love you so much.” You told Leah after you’d calmed down.
“I love you too.”
“I feel like I’m in high school after that.” You laughed and Leah agreed as you both looked at the TV to find Kiera, Lucy and Georgia all still playing fifa. “I feel so… high school every time I look at you.”
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faithshouseofchaos · 2 days
Text
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The truth stick— Dad!daniel ricciardo x mom!reader + Lucas and Sadie
Fluff pure fluff
Word count 2k
Kinda based on s3 episode 27 of bluey
Not edited
Daniel is so Bandit wheeler coded and I stand by that
Daniel stood at the kitchen counter making sandwiches for Lucas and Sadie while the two kids sat on the bar stools watching.
“You did!” Lucas yelled
“I didn’t!” Daniel says
“You did” Lucas tells again
“I did not,” Daniel responded, his voice cracking with humor, cutting Lucas’s sandwich in half.
“Did too,” Lucas said loudly.
“Hey what’s going on?” You asked, walking into the kitchen as you just got back home from walking the dog.
“Dad farted in my face!” Lucas yelled pointing at Daniel.
“I did not” Daniel says smiling, handing Lucas his sandwich.
You chuckled watching the situation unfold before your eyes, Daniel's usual playful demeanor never failed to entertain you.
"Daniel, did you really-" you started to ask, but were cut off by Daniel's quick response.
"No, of course not" Daniel says, waving his hand dismissively. "He's exaggerating"
Lucas crossed his arms, looking at you with wide eyes. “Mom! He made me smell his fart!”
You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at Lucas’ dramatic accusation. You watched Daniel feign surprise and innocence, the corners of his mouth twitching as he held back a smile.
"Is that so?" You asked Lucas, unable to keep a straight face.
Lucas nodded furiously, his expression serious. "It smelled so bad!"
Daniel placed a hand over his heart, looking wounded. "I swear on my life, I did no such thing!"
You chuckled and shook your head, knowing better than to believe Daniel entirely.
"Daniel, are you sure you weren't just... letting one loose near Lucas?" You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face.
Daniel gasped in mock indignation. "Me? Never. My farts smell like roses."
“Nuh uh daddy” Sadie says
Daniel looked at Sadie, acting offended. “You too?” he exclaimed, pretending to be hurt.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at Daniel's exaggerated reactions. He clearly loved playing the part of the dramatic, misunderstood parent.
"So now even my own daughter is turning against me?" Daniel asked, pretending to pout.
“Yes daddy,” Sadie said, her eyes wide with innocence.
Lucas chimed in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Yeah, we know you did it."
Daniel huffed, still playing along with the farce. “I’m being falsely accused here! Where’s the trust?”
You smiled at the exchange, enjoying this playful banter between your family.
"Well, to be fair, Daniel, you do have a history of... accidentally letting one slip" you said, trying to hold back giggles.
Daniel clutched his chest again, pretending to be offended. "Key word being 'accidentally.' I didn't do it intentionally!”
Lucas, sensing an opportunity to tease his father, chimed in, “How can we believe you, though? You lie a lot.”
Your eyes widened at Lucas’ blunt comment, a mix of surprise and amusement.
Daniel feigned shock, holding a hand over his heart. “I'm hurt. My own children doubting the truth of my words.”
You tried to hide your smile, biting your lip to stop yourself from laughing.
Sadie, not wanting to be left out, added, “Yeah daddy, you always tell us fibs to get us to laugh.”
Daniel put a hand on his forehead, feigning defeat. “You got me there, kiddo. But I swear, I did not fart on your brother.”
Lucas, now fully invested in the teasing, put on a smug expression. “We don't believe you, though.”
Daniel looked at you, silently pleading for backup. “Can you help me out here?”
You took a deep breath, trying to maintain a serious expression but failing miserably.
“I’m sorry, Daniel. They have a point,” you said, barely suppressing a smile. Daniel’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You too, babe? What do I have to do to prove my innocence?”
Lucas and Sadie looked at each other, both silently agreeing on the next step.
“I know!” Sadie interjected. “What if you promise?”
Daniel looked at his children, then at you, contemplating the offer.
“Fine,” he said, a hint of resignation in his voice. “I promise I didn’t fart on your brother.” Lucas squinted his eyes, studying Daniel's face.
“How do we know you’re not lying right now, though?” he pressed on.
Daniel let out an exasperated sigh, throwing up his hands in surrender. "Seriously, kids? How can I prove to you that I'm being honest?" Daniel asked, now more amused than offended.
You chuckled, enjoying the playful exchange between your family. Lucas thought for a moment, tapping his chin in an exaggerated manner. Then, he suddenly brightened up. “I know how!”
Daniel raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Okay, I’m listening. How can I prove my innocence?”
Lucas leaned in, a smirk on his face. "You have to take the 'Truth Stick' test."
Daniel exchanged an amused glance with you, then turned back to his son.
"And what exactly is the 'Truth Stick' test?" he asked, humoring Lucas' game. Lucas's grin widened as he explained. “It’s pretty simple. If you tell a lie, the truth stick will whack you!”
Daniel chuckled, playing along. “So, it’s a magical stick that detects lies?” Lucas nodded excitedly. “Yep! It’s never wrong.”
Sadie chimed in, just as enthusiastic as her brother. “Yeah! It’s a special magic stick that only works on grownups.” Daniel chuckled, clearly amused by their childish game.
"Alright, I’m game. Go grab the 'Truth Stick'," he said, playing along with their antics.
Lucas and Sadie scurried off, leaving Daniel and you alone in the kitchen. Daniel turned to you, his expression a mix of amusement and defeat.
"I can't believe I'm being humiliated by my own kids," he said with a wry grin. You chuckled, unable to keep a straight face. "Hey, you brought this upon yourself, Daniel. Besides, it's all in good fun."
Just then, Lucas and Sadie returned, brandishing a thin wooden stick like a magical wand. Lucas held the 'Truth Stick' up in front of Daniel, a look of satisfaction on his face.
"Alright, Dad. Are you ready to take the test?" he asked solemnly. Daniel tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t help but smile. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Lucas and Sadie both looked thrilled, clearly enjoying having their father at their mercy. "Okay, Dad,” Lucas said. “We’re going to ask you some questions, and if you lie, the ‘Truth Stick’ will whack you. Got it?”
Daniel nodded solemnly, trying to maintain a serious expression. Lucas smiled, pleased that Daniel was going along with their game. “Alright, first question. What did you have for lunch today?”
Daniel thought for a moment before answering. “I had a salad and a sandwich.”
Lucas turned to Sadie, who held up the 'Truth Stick', ready to administer justice. However, the stick stayed still. “Looks like you’re telling the truth so far,” Lucas stated, clearly disappointed that Daniel hadn’t been caught yet.
He thought for another moment before asking the next question. “Okay Dad, my next question is… what did you get Mom for her birthday last year?”
Daniel chuckled, seemingly unfazed by the question. "I got your mom a beautiful necklace and some flowers," he said confidently.
Lucas and Sadie looked at each other, then at the 'Truth Stick', waiting with anticipation. When the stick stayed motionless once more, they both let out a huff. "Well, you’re on a roll so far, Dad," Lucas sighed, clearly not expecting such an honest answer to the last question.
He thought for a moment, trying to come up with a more difficult question. "Alright, this might be tricky. Did you fart on me earlier?" Daniel feigned an insulted expression, placing a hand over his heart once more.
"Absolutely not! I would never do such a thing!" he replied, pretending to be deeply hurt by the accusation.
Lucas and Sadie held up the 'Truth Stick', both of them silently hoping it would react to Daniel’s answer. But much to their disappointment, the stick remained still. Lucas sighed, clearly frustrated that the 'Truth Stick' wasn’t catching Daniel in a lie. Sadie too, looked disappointed.
“This isn’t fair,” Lucas grumbled, not happy that their foolproof plan wasn’t working as they had hoped. Daniel chuckled, enjoying the children's growing frustration.
"Hey, what can I say? I'm just a very honest man," he joked, a sly smile playing on his lips. Lucas rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by his father's easygoing attitude. "This stick is broken," he exclaimed.
Sadie spoke up, her voice tinged with irritation. "Yeah, it’s not working right!" Daniel put on a sympathetic look, pretending to agree with them.
"Maybe the 'Truth Stick' is faulty," he said, barely containing his amusement. "It’s not working as intended." Lucas and Sadie looked at each other, both convinced that the 'Truth Stick' wasn't working properly.
"Maybe we should try another question," Lucas suggested, clearly not wanting to give up on outsmarting his father just yet. "Yeah," Sadie echoed. "Let’s ask another question."
Daniel held his hands up in mock surrender. “Bring it on. I’m ready for whatever you throw at me.” Lucas and Sadie conferred for a moment, trying to think of the perfect question to catch Daniel in a lie.
Lucas suddenly brightened up. "Got it!" he yelled excitedly. Daniel's eyebrows raised in anticipation, bracing himself for the next question.
"Alright, hit me with it," he said, feeling confident that he would pass this test too. Lucas smiled mischievously, clearly pleased with himself for coming up with what he believed to be the ultimate question.
He turned to Daniel, grinning widely. "Okay Dad, here it comes. Are you ready?" Daniel chuckled, enjoying the children's determined faces. "As ready as I’ll ever be," he replied, preparing himself for whatever question came next. Lucas looked at Sadie, who nodded in approval, holding up the 'Truth Stick' like a judge wielding a gavel.
"Okay Dad, here it is…" he started, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Did you secretly eat a cookie from the cookie jar this morning, even though you knew we weren’t allowed?"
Daniel's eyes widened, his confident smile faltering for just a split second. He hadn’t expected the children to ask about the cookie incident.
However, he quickly composed himself, trying to keep a casual expression.
"Of course not. Why would you think that?" he responded, his voice slightly higher pitched than usual. Lucas and Sadie looked at each other suspiciously. They had definitely caught a hint of dishonesty in Daniel's response.
Lucas picked up on it too, narrowing his eyes at his father. "Dad, are you sure you're telling the truth?" Daniel swallowed hard, now feeling a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. He tried to maintain his casual demeanor, but his expression gave him away.
"Uh, yeah. I'm positive. No cookies for me this morning," he answered, his voice wavering slightly. Lucas and Sadie exchanged glances once more. They could tell that their father was lying, and they were more excited than ever.
Lucas turned back to Daniel, a sly smile playing on his lips.
"Are you absolutely, positively, 100% sure about that, Dad?" Daniel could feel the tension in the air building, and he knew he was caught. He tried one last attempt to feign innocence, but his nerves betrayed him.
"Uh… yeah… absolutely, positively, 100% sure," he stammered, his voice cracking ever so slightly. Lucas and Sadie were practically bouncing with excitement now. They looked at each other and nodded, both knowing they had him.
Lucas turned back to Daniel, holding up the 'Truth Stick' triumphantly.
"Dad, are you ready for the truth?" he asked, his voice dripping with satisfaction. Daniel felt a mix of defeat and amusement, realizing that his children had outsmarted him. He chuckled and shook his head, clearly impressed by their detective skills.
"Well, I guess there's no point in denying it any longer. Go ahead, bring on the truth," he said with a resigned smile. Lucas smirked and looked at Sadie, who gleefully held up the 'Truth Stick'.
Lucas faced his dad and took a deep breath. "Okay Dad, the 'Truth Stick' will reveal it to us now."
Daniel braced himself, knowing he was doomed.
Lucas looked Daniel straight in the eye and asked with great determination, "Did you or did you not eat a cookie from the cookie jar this morning?" Daniel knew there was no point in lying anymore. The jig was up.
He sighed and slumped his shoulders, a sheepish expression on his face.
"Okay, fine," he admitted. "I ate one cookie. But it was just one, I swear!" Lucas and Sadie both let out victorious cheers, knowing they had finally caught their father in a lie.
Lucas put his hands on his hips, triumphantly declaring, "I knew it!"
Sadie was even more excited, practically jumping up and down. "We got you, Dad!"
“Wait ah minute what’s that smell?” Sadie asked looking at Lucas. Lucas sniffed the air, his eyebrows scrunching up in confusion.
"I don’t know, what is that smell?" he responded, genuinely puzzled.
Daniel chuckled, knowing exactly what was coming next.Sadie frowned and sniffed the air once more, her face contorting in disgust. "Ugh, it smells awful!" she exclaimed.
Lucas nodded in agreement, the horrid scent becoming more apparent to him now.
"Yeah, it smells like something died!" he exclaimed, plugging his nose with his fingers. Sadie and Lucas looked at each other and then let out a squeal “mom dad farted again!” The kids yell running away.
You couldn't help but burst out laughing at the kids' reaction. Daniel, caught off guard, let out a guilty laugh.
"Hey, hold on now," he protested, a mixture of amusement and embarrassment on his face. "That wasn't me!" Lucas and Sadie stopped in their tracks, their eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Then who was it?" Sadie asked, crossing her arms.
Daniel shrugged innocently. "I don't know. Maybe it was the dog?"
But the kids weren't buying it. They both looked at each other again, then back at Daniel, their faces filled with skepticism.
Lucas pointed an accusing finger at Daniel. "It was you, Dad. We know it was you!" Daniel held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. You got me," he admitted, a sheepish grin on his face. "It was me. I farted." Lucas and Sadie wrinkled their noses in disgust, both of them making dramatic gagging noises.
"Ew, that's gross!" Sadie said, fanning the air around her.
Lucas put his hand over his mouth, pretending to be nauseous. "Ugh, Dad. Your farts stink." Daniel chuckled, clearly enjoying the kids' exaggerated reactions.
"Hey, hey now. Cut me some slack. I'm only human. Everyone farts," he defended, still grinning from ear to ear.
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Tagged — @ashy-kit @astraeaworld @67-angelofthelordme-67 @alwayzbeenale @amatswimming @a-casual-romantic @anedpev @bblouifford @bbtoni @barcelonaloverf1life @badassturtle13 @charlesf1leclerc @dark-night-sky-99 @dudenhaaa27 @crashingwavesofeuphoria @clowngirlsstuff @eugene-emt-roe @embrosegraves @entr4p3 @formulas-bitch @formulaal @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @thef1diary @llando4norris @hangmandruigandmav @hollie911 @ironcowboycopnickel @jeffs77 @kimiracing07 @lollypop90907 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @lightdragonrayne @moss-on-tmblr @omgsuperstarg @oconswrld @otako5811 @purplephantomwolf @sweate-r-weathe-r @swifth0lic @starkwlkr @strugglingyetvibing @toasttt11 @the-ghost-lovwr @tallrock35 @uluvjay @vellicora @venusisnothere @danielshouseofwhores @raikkxz
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milkteabinniechan · 20 hours
Note
got sudden inspiration from limbo lee know and..
rockstar best friend lino who thinks he's a bad influence on you despite being in love eith you so very much. he's rough around the edges, mean, sarcastic not everyone gest him. but you only see him as the soft-spoken golden-hearted childhood friend who got hotter over the years.
angst that end with crying into eachothers arms about how much they love eachother????
🪻
♡stuck in limbo with you - minho
membership // m.list
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A best friend that treats you like a princess. You tease him that he is like a bodyguard that fell in love with his client. But it was true. Painfully true. He had never said it out loud but Minho was head over heals for you and he couldn't hide it any longer. When he helped you buckle your shoes for the show.
"How do I look?" You asked so innocently.
He stood back to fully take you in. He stared in silence for a while. As if he was flipping through every page of every poetry book he had ever read to find the perfect words to describe you. He took a deep breath in and finally said, perfect.
You were in the front row like always. Cheering on your best friend, your number one. He looked so handsome up there on stage. He had a glow about him that made the rest of the world look dark. You knew that light was brightest when he was performing.
You made your way to the familiar path backstage. You nodded at the bouncers and smiled at security. You pushed the dressing room door open to see the regular scene. Half naked, beautiful girls throwing themselves on Minho. He was the brooding bad boy that everyone wanted.
You made eye contact with Minho and obnoxiously rolled your eyes. He flashes you a teasing smile before standing up and moving the girls aside. Minho made his way to you,
"Ready to go?" His eyes sparkle that familiar sparkle that you loved so much.
You nodded your head and the two of you made your way out of the dressing when one of the girls called Minho's name. He exhaled and rolled his eyes, turning around and giving the girl a firm "What?"
You watched at Minho and the girl argued, an argument that you had heard many times before with many other pretty girls. The current girl pouted and stomped her foot, demanding that Minho stay and party with her and her friends. Minho gave a careless response and told her he was busy.
The girl, now visibly upset, makes sharp eyes at you. The gears in her head turned quickly, realizing that you were Minho's aforementioned plans. She spat out an insult about you, something about the way you looked or dressed, but you couldn't really hear her.
However, what happened next was what really shocked you. Minho's hands clenched tight into fists, his body becoming stiff and rigid. The look in his eyes looked as though he could burn a hole right through that poor girl.
Minho spoke in a low, deep tone, "Everyone out, Now..."
One of Minho's bodyguard's recognized his tone and swiftly gathered everyone out of the room. You stayed close to the wall while everyone walked out of the door, the girl trailing behind at the end shooting daggers at you as she left.
You took a deep breath and walked over to Minho. You placed a gentle hand on his arm, feeling him instantly relax at your touch. He turns his head and locks eyes with you, his gaze softening when he sees your face again. Minho reached his hand out and moved a bit of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. This was the Minho that no one else got to witness. He looked at you with such admiration and love. He took care of you like no one else could.
"Are you okay?" You asked, scanning Minho's face with concern.
Minho crossed the dressing room and sat down on the couch. He let his head fall into his hands and sigh deeply, "I don't know."
Exhaustion was painted across Minho's strong features. You sat down next to him and rested your head on his shoulder. You breathed in his scent, searching for the words that he needed to hear. You opened your hand near Minho's lap, letting him intertwine his fingers with yours.
"I'm just... So tired." Minho said finally. Tears began to trickle down his face. You watched the man you love start to crumble in front of you. Your heart ached for him, more than your heart could ever ache.
"Minho. I'm going to tell you this because... Because I have to," you started, your heart racing rapidly.
Minho sniffled and turned his head toward you, curious and eyes wide. You took a deep breath and continued,
"Minho, I love you. I love you so much it hurts. It physically hurts to love you, to see the life you've chosen. And I... I could make you happy. You could choose me."
The tears in Minho's eyes matched your own as the two of you sat in a emotional silence. His face was unreadable as his body leaned towards you. A deep kiss hits your lips with a haste that sets your entire body ablaze. Tears continued to fall down both of your faces as your deepen the kiss. The kiss was the kiss you always hoped it would be, but in the back of your mind you couldn't help but remind yourself that Minho still hadn't said anything...
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cloudwhisper23 · 2 days
Text
Guess who did another art trade with @pixlokita? This one's about their Werebunny AU! Hope y'all enjoy!
Warning: 11k words
Jeremy cursed as he dropped the screwdriver. “I swear, you’re going to be the death of me, buddy.”
He put pressure on the gushing stream of blood coming from his thumb muttering to himself about how dumb he was. Mangle’s ear flopped as they tilted their two heads in confusion.
“I’m okay, bud.” Jeremy tried to flash a smile, but the blood leaking down his wrist was too distracting. “Okay, I need to find a sink or something.”
Standing up made Jeremy dizzy, but he managed to get to a wall and lean against it as he made his way to the kitchen. “I could get fired for this, you know,” he remarked to the animatronic clinging to the ceiling above him as he walked. “We’re not supposed to tamper with the animatronics at all, and clearly, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
The beeping and static overhead did not give any indication that they felt anything in regard to his response.
Jeremy stumbled. “Whoa, I think I need to sit down for a second…” He slid down the wall as black spots danced across his vision.
His eyes fluttered shut for a moment before a heavy weight dropped into his lap and cold plastic pressed against the side of his face. “Augh! I’m okay, Mango! I’m fine!” Jeremy batted at the white plastic with both hands, smearing blood across their face.
“I, uh. I need to get up, bud.”
The mangled (and now bloody) fox animatronic tilted their two heads yet again, seeming to be unable to understand what Jeremy wanted.
“Can you…?” Jeremy tried to shift his weight beneath the pile of metal in his lap.
Mangle’s ears lifted, and they crept onto the floor, offering a paw to help Jeremy get up.
“Um, thanks buddy.” Jeremy still wasn’t sure why the animatronic was so fond of him, but he’d found himself returning the favor whenever possible. The company had long given up on repairing Mangle, but Jeremy wanted to help them look nice. Just like Ramona and Becky for me, he thought to himself.
Shaking away the fondness from the memory, Jeremy let his weight shift onto the animatronic. Static buzzed loudly out of Mangle’s voicebox, but they hardly bent under his weight. Jeremy decided that washing out the wound could wait until he was home. For now, he needed to clean up the mess he’d made in the pizzeria.
The wrapped bandage itched. Jeremy had wrapped a ton of gauze around his hand and refused to explain to anybody what had happened. At least, not in any detail.
Ramona had glanced at it with suspicion the last time they talked, but she never liked to pry. She told him that if he changed his bandage at her apartment, he wasn’t allowed to get blood everywhere. “It will stain the countertops,” Ramona said matter-of-factly.
So Jeremy had gotten away with no one saying anything. But the longer he left it, the more it itched and burned. He flicked through the cameras without really thinking about it, hardly remembering to wind the music box on time.
His hand burned, and when Jeremy got home from his shift, he ripped it free and turned the spigot on, running cold water over his scabby and swollen skin. Jeremy knew he probably should’ve gone to an actual doctor about his injury, but he figured that stitches couldn’t be too hard, and it seemed like the skin itself was healing fine.
Maybe he got an infection from the cut though. Jeremy wasn’t very good at remembering the medical advice Becky gave him, much less how to clean a cut properly. But the skin itself looked fine. There was something shimmery beneath it, which Jeremy could almost ignore if it didn’t make his skin burn so badly.
Jeremy’s dog whined at his feet, impatient for his morning meal. “Just a minute, Percy.” Jeremy tore the thread out of his injury, glad that the skin had started to seal itself back together.
He carefully rewrapped the injury, glad that the itching had gone away a little bit, at least. Jeremy kicked his shoes off and loosened his tie as he went over to fill Percy’s food bowl and check on the water level. “Doing good there, bud? I need a nap first, but I’ll walk you in a bit.”
Jeremy yawned, scratching at his head to loosen the pressure after he removed his ponytail. “Just… one… a quick nap…”
He stumbled forward, faceplanting into the floor as consciousness slipped away. Percy whined, nudging at his face and licking it as his spine started to bend and elongate, fur sprouting from his hands and curled claws burst from his fingertips.
Percy growled at the intrusion of the new characteristics, but he stuck by Jeremy’s side as his eyes rolled back and his ears melded back into the sides of his head to make room for longer, fluffier ears more equipped for a rabbit. And that was what Jeremy’s body was shifting into. He was growing larger, his clothes no longer enough to hold the mass of his entire body.
Jeremy’s claws lashed out at Percy, tearing the fur and skin of his dog. Percy whimpered, backing away to get out of his space as his nose wrinkled and twitched rapidly, taking in the surroundings in a new way. His ears folded back as a deeper growl vibrated in his throat.
Percy scurried away, not quickly enough as Jeremy bounded forward and sank his teeth into the poor dog’s back. Percy barked, a frightened noise as he tried to squirm free from Jeremy’s mouth. Jeremy gnawed for a few moments before releasing the dog, blood dripping down his fur.
Percy escaped and rushed into Jeremy’s bedroom, hiding under his owner’s blankets as he trembled.
Jeremy’s nose twitched again, nosing against his front door. Offended by the obstacle in his way, Jeremy’s claws dug deep into the hardwood, scratching a jagged hole in the floor and part of the door.
When Jeremy finally came to, his clothes were tattered and hanging off his body, and his mouth was full of blood. Dazed, he got to his feet and immediately winced as splinters dug into his bare skin. What happened? He blinked at his surroundings, startled to see claw marks in the furniture and the floor. Blood smeared across the floor by the couch, which was presumably where he’d taken his nap…
Had he ever laid down for the nap? Jeremy couldn’t recall, trying to remember and think about what could’ve possibly happened while he was asleep. He spat the blood out of his mouth, wiping at his mouth, only to realize that there was blood under his fingernails and all over his hands.
“Percy?” he called out tentatively, hating how gravelly his voice came out.
Surely nothing had happened to his dog, right? Jeremy cautiously stepped across the floor as he searched for his dog. The clumps of fur were not a promising sight as he looked around his house.
“Percy?” Jeremy tried to call out again, but his voice failed him.
He felt very ill, flicking the light on in his bathroom to stare at his very pale, bloodied face. Nothing ached or hurt, but he was absolutely covered in blood.
Jeremy splashed his face with water, scrubbing at the blood staining his face and hands, desperate to get the sight out of his head. Pieces of his uniform slid down his arms into the water of the sink.
What had even happened?
The shower afterward was completely necessary, and Jeremy felt feverish from everything that had happened. His memory was beginning to return, although he did not feel that he’d been in control for most of it, feeling defensive enough to lash out at Percy, who’d only been trying to help.
The bloodstained lump on his bed was something he pointedly made himself ignore when grabbing underwear and socks. He needed more time before he could try to deal with that.
Tears built up in his throat as he grabbed his spare uniform from the shelf by the door and made sure it was fully intact for his shift that night. At least there was something that hadn’t completely gone wrong.
I need a cup of coffee or something, Jeremy thought to himself, shuddering. But he did not feel comfortable enough to do much in his own home, not with reminders of his outburst everywhere.
He avoided his apartment for the better part of a week after that, knowing that it wasn’t healthy to cope by avoiding what happened, but he just couldn’t go back, knowing what he’d done to Percy.
By Wednesday’s shift, Jeremy was properly jittery as he clocked in for work and walked down to the office. The music box was fully wound, as Scott sat in the chair, patiently waiting for him with a friendly smile. “Hiya Jeremy!”
“You sticking around today?” Jeremy asked? He knew about Scott’s tendency to kind of just come in during shifts and stick around. Phil said it was because his own work was boring, and besides, Scott loved being helpful, despite being 7 years old.
“Yep! I’ll keep that nasty balloon boy away!” Scott chirped cheerfully.
“Well, that’s fantastic, buddy. Thanks for that.” Jeremy squatted down to squint at the camera screens, his typical habit to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be.
“Is your hand all better now?” Scott asked.
“Huh?” Jeremy glanced up from the cameras, momentarily distracted.
“Well, Dad said you’d done something to your hand, and we could all see the bandages you’d put over it. ‘Course, he said it was none of our business since you didn’t file any paperwork for it, but-“
“You just can’t keep your nose out of it, can you?” Jeremy shook his head, flipping through the cameras again to make sure the toys were in their places.
The familiar sound of Mangle creeping around in the vents was not as reassuring as it used to be. And Mangle didn’t really like the other employees either. Jeremy had no idea if Scott and Mangle got along even.
“Get your mask ready,” Jeremy said quietly, checking the vent light. Sure enough, Mangle peered into the room from the vent as he shoved the Freddy head over Scott’s head.
“I can do it myself!” Scott exclaimed, his voice muffled by the fabric. “Wait, where’s your mask?”
Jeremy crouched by the vent and reached a hand out to touch the cool plastic of Mangle’s mask. The animatronic fox let out a series of happy clicks, nudging harder into his hand before ducking away to presumably wander around the pizzeria some more.
“How did you not die?” Scott asked, tearing the Freddy head off to drop it back on the corner of the desk. He flipped through the cameras while waiting for an answer, stopping to wind the music box.
“Mangle likes me,” Jeremy shrugged, peering at the cameras over Scott’s head. “Looks like a quiet shift today.”
“Yeah, if Mangle counts as a quiet shift,” Scott muttered, dropping the monitor back to the desk. “I don’t get it.”
“What’s not to get?” Jeremy replied.
“You night guards are so weird. My dad got all affectionate about Foxy, even though he had to pull out the stun gun for him. Masks don’t work on all of them, and my dad had to have all the affection for the one most likely to kill him.” Scott eyed Jeremy wearily. “Kind of like you, actually.”
“Thanks. Maybe Foxy wouldn’t have killed your dad, you know.” Jeremy glanced at the stage camera again. Toy Bonnie was noticeably absent, but there was nothing to worry about yet.
“He would’ve. He tried constantly.” Scott ducked under the desk, and Jeremy heard faint mechanical laughter before a loud clanging noise. Balloon Boy sprinted out of the room with one of the masks in his hand.
“Aw, you gotta be kidding,” Jeremy sighed as Scott stared after the animatronic. “If anything comes in here, you get the mask.”
“But it’s-“
“I’m the night guard, buddy.” Jeremy shook his head, flipping through the cameras. There. Toy Bonnie had slipped into a party room. “I gotta keep you safe, first and foremost.”
“They would never hurt a kid,” Scott muttered, staring into the hallway, hands clenched tightly around his flashlight.
“Don’t even think about going after him, Scott.” Jeremy wound the music box, not sparing a glance at the kid. “There’s too many factors out there, and you know exactly what Phil would say.”
“Yeah yeah.” Scott scowled. “He’s never taken a mask before.”
“First time for everything,” Jeremy sighed, rubbing his eyes. He’d been feeling more exhausted lately, but that was from nightmares. He really needed to get better sleep.
“Bonnie,” Scott whispered, dropping the flashlight to reach for the mask. His hands trembled, and Jeremy was reminded that Scott was still a little kid.
He heard the sound of Toy Bonnie crawling out of the vent, but instead of reaching for Jeremy, Toy Bonnie went for Scott, who hadn’t finished putting the mask on.
“Wait, hang on-“ Jeremy whacked the animatronic’s arm with the camera monitor in his hands. The animatronic didn’t spare him a glance as it pulled Scott across the desk by his shirt. “Leave him alone! Hey!” Jeremy’s yelling turned into a growl as his shirt ripped to allow room for him to grow larger and larger.
The animatronic rabbit twitched backward, seemingly surprised and maybe even a little afraid. However, Jeremy’s transformation did not seem to make Toy Bonnie more inclined to let Scott go. If anything, Toy Bonnie pulled the kid closer as he backed away from the desk.
Jeremy’s own ears flattened against his head as he vaulted over the desk to pry Scott free from the animatronic’s grasp. The sound of ripping fabric didn’t deter the giant golden rabbit. His focus fixed on what he saw as a danger, and his teeth broke through the cheap plastic easily, puncturing fluid containers and severing wires.
Toy Bonnie’s screech echoed, even as it abruptly cut off by Jeremy destroying the voicebox. Black shimmering liquid dripped down Jeremy’s maw as he stalked forward, whiskers twitching as he sensed more animatronics beginning to stir.
Scott got to his feet wearily, tugging his torn shirt back to its place. He silently pressed himself against the wall behind him, knowing better than to make any sudden moves as he placed the Bonnie head on the floor. It would do him no good to appear as a threat.
Scott’s decision to not look like the old purple rabbit seemed to prove right as an animatronic with torn fabric arms and exposed wires stalked his way into the hallway to investigate. His ears seemed to move much easier than Toy Bonnie’s as they swiveled to express fear, even without a proper face to do so.
Jeremy did not seem to recognize the distinction, growling at the new opponent in his space. Bonnie’s head tilted to the side before he turned to race down the hallway with heavy echoing steps. Jeremy bounded after him, much faster as his limbs were more natural, taking on extra power after Jeremy’s transition into a larger, more predatory form.
Bonnie spared no time in his own fearful screech, something that was answered with a deep, ominous growl. Scott, somehow still unafraid, followed the fighting rabbits to investigate.
The giant golden rabbit towered over the animatronic standing in his way, a similarly colored animatronic bear with no pupils. The bear’s ears wiggled as it set in place, a firm grip around Jeremy’s wrist to stop him from striking out with claws.
A pressure built up in the back of Scott’s head as images and unspoken words forced their way into his head. Based on the way the giant bunny was twitching and shaking his head, it appeared he wasn’t the only one. The angry bunny let out an outraged whine as he was tossed against a wall with seemingly no effort. The unspoken command lingered in the air as the rabbit dug into the tiles to launch himself toward the exit door.
The golden bear turned to Scott, who’d finally gained the sense of mind to realize that maybe the animatronic would turn on him. He gasped out a frightened breath before the barely tangible forms of two children roughly his age appeared in front of him. The girl tried to give him a reassuring smile as the boy stared down the hallway where the rabbit had disappeared. He picked up the night guard hat with what appeared to be disinterest, before crushing it into a tight ball.
“Bad rabbit,” he said softly.
The girl nodded. “We’ll keep you safe until 6 a.m., okay?”
Scott brightened at that. Nothing could hurt him now, especially with the animatronics seeming to avoid the back area he’d ended up in. Bonnie peered at him with red LEDs before slowly making his way back into the corridor, presumably to continue nosing around like the rabbit he was.
Ramona hated to be this nosy. She did. Really. But when Jeremy wasn’t around and missed their weekly coffee, she had the right to be suspicious. Especially after that pizzeria started asking for more help again. Night shift position. That was what Jeremy’s job was. Which meant the first step was seeing if he’d quit.
“Jeremy!” Ramona called, knocking harshly at his door.
When she got no answer, she started peering in the windows, looking for some indication that something had happened. The curtains were drawn, though, so she couldn’t see into the house. He’s lucky I keep a spare key, Ramona thought to herself as she let herself into the house.
“Jeremy?” Ramona called into the house, trying not to gasp at the ripped-up floorboards and tattered furniture. “Jer, are you home?”
Stepping over the destroyed floorboards, she peered at the bloodstained carpet, feeling a flicker of concern. “Jeremy?” She knew her voice was getting louder as she became more afraid of what had happened to her brother.
A whimper from Jeremy’s bedroom made her whirl around and rush to the room. “Percy?”
Jeremy’s dog had nestled underneath his blanket, soaking them so thoroughly with blood. It was Percy’s blood, she thought to herself, approaching her brother’s injured dog cautiously. “Hey, Percy. It’s okay. It’s me, remember? Auntie Mona?”
Percy whined again, blinking through the blood on his face.
“Alright,” Ramona took a deep breath. “Perce, how do you feel about coming to stay with me for a while? Looks like you might need it pretty badly.”
This was decidedly not a good sign.
It had to be raining every day this week, didn’t it? Michael glowered at the clouds, hating every moment of the weather that made his skin itch and burn. He couldn’t go outside, not for anything.
It was lucky Michael could even bear a shower anymore.
The bills on his table protested his refusal to go outside, of course. He’d already been fired from two jobs for refusing to work on days when it rained. He’d lost a few more interview opportunities for cancelling last minute because of the rain.
Mike’s eyes drifted back to the newspaper advertisement. Much as he hated to admit it, Freddy’s was probably the only job that would not care if he skipped a shift because of rain.
Still, he didn’t want to work at Freddy’s under any circumstances. Not after the… incident…
Michael ripped his gaze away from the newspaper, the memories already making him feel ill. The letter on the edge of his table sat untouched. He didn’t want to know what his father wanted either. He’d rather stand in a thunderstorm than see what his father needed from him this time.
That might be the only option, he thought duly, eyeing his overflowing trashcan. With a painful sigh, Michael yanked his raincoat from the rack and slung it across his shoulders. The hood pulled tight over his head, making his scalp burn. He retrieved his umbrella from behind the sofa (how had it gotten there?) before compacting the trash to make all of his garbage fit in the bag.
With only another moment of hesitation, Michael twisted the doorknob and stepped outside.
“Well, fancy that! Michael Schmidt out in the rain! I thought you were a witch or something with the way you avoided water!” Michael’s elderly neighbor called out, unphased by the rain like she always was.
“Good afternoon, Miss Wess,” Michael replied politely.
“I don’t know about good,” Miss Wess wrinkled her nose. “Poor Logan just can’t handle this type of weather. Kind of like you, actually.”
Michael forced a smile, glancing at the irritated cat at Mis Wess’ feet. His tail drooped as he glowered at the puddles on the sidewalk. “We can’t all be unbothered by the weather like you are, Miss Wess.”
“We’ve known each other long enough, dear. Call me Beverly.”
Michael didn’t reply after that, opting to walk toward the dumpster on the street corner, knowing she wouldn’t follow him.
“You know, a handsome man like you could find a woman easily! I’m sure she’d be more than happy to handle chores like going outside in the rain!” Miss Wess called cheerfully before heading back into her house for the sake of her poor cat.
Michael did not need a girlfriend. He did not want a girlfriend. He did not deserve to be loved, after all. That ship sailed a long time ago, he thought bitterly, shuddering as he felt his damp hair on his face.
The letter on the table mocked him as he threw his wet coat over a chair, water splashing on the surface of the paper. He ignored it, more concerned about tearing the damp shirt off his body, frantically rushing to grab a towel to dry his hair as well.
The shirt went in the sink as Michael sank to his knees sobbing into the towel. Maybe he should’ve just bit the bullet and opened the letter from his father, but now it was near impossible to even imagine it.
He glanced at the bills again with a pained groan later that night. He really needed to get a job.
It’s my own fault. I suppose Freddy’s would be the only place that would hire me at this point. With a very aggravated groan, Michael dialed the number on the newspaper clipping.
“Uh, hello? Hello, hello?” The voice at the other end seemed distracted and maybe even a little nervous. “You’ve, uh, reached Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. How may I help you today?”
“Hi, this is Michael. Urm. Michael Schmidt. I saw your ad in the newspaper? I was wondering if I could apply for the night guard position.”
“Oh, you were?” The guy chuckled a little. “Well, that, uh. That’d be great! When could you come in to interview?”
“Um…” Michael tried to think. “Do you know when the rain is supposed to stop?”
“Hmm, let’s see…” Michael heard some rustling noises as the guy on the other end of the phone presumably checked the forecast. “Well, it’s uh. It’s supposed to be done raining tomorrow afternoon. Will you be able to come in tomorrow?”
“Yes. Does three o’clock work?” Michael asked.
“Uh, sure! I’ll mark you down for three o’clock. I’ll also ask that you bring a copy of your resume, uh, a driver’s license or passport, and uh. No, that about covers it. You’ll be wanting to look for a guy called Lloyd. I’ll er, I’ll check to see that he’s in tomorrow, hang on.”
There were more rustling noises. “Yep! We’re in luck, he’ll be here. So you’ll want to come in and talk to Lloyd, and he’ll interview you for the job. Sound okay with you?”
“Yes, that sounds fine.” Michael found himself twisting the phone cord tightly around his finger. “I’ll see you tomorrow at three.”
“Nope! I actually don’t work that shift. But uh, I’ll see you some other time. If you get the job, that is.” He chuckled again. “I’ll uh, catch you on the flipside!”
“Goodbye-“ Michael started to say as the other man hung up on him. Weird.
Well, a job interview seemed promising enough. That was how it always sounded though. The trick was keeping the job, really.
Still, Michael had to at least keep this job through a paycheck or two. Maybe the rain would properly let up enough for him to keep the job long enough to pay off his bills.
The next morning, Michael woke up relieved to hear water dripping from the roof. There was no sound of rain pouring from the actual sky, just the leftovers from the day before. Slightly hopeful about how things were turning out, Michael went to brush his teeth and get prepared for the day.
“Someone’s energized today!” Miss Wess called when Michael went for a short walk that morning.
“No reason not to!” he called back. “The rain’s stopped.”
“You and Logan both seem pleased today.” Miss Wess shook her head, smiling slightly. “Michael dear, do you happen to have a bit of time this morning to come have a chat?”
“I suppose…” Michael considered it for a moment. “So long as it’s only during the morning, I think that’d be fine.”
“Great! Come right on in when you’re finished with your walk then.”
Odd… Michael shook his head, continuing his walk while he still felt the light joy in his chest.
When he got to Miss Wess’ house, she offered him a cup of tea. “Freshly brewed!”
“So, what did you want to talk about?”
“Oh, nothing too crazy. You’re not allergic to cats, are you?” Miss Wess asked, sipping at her own cup of tea.
“No…?” Michael sat uncomfortably with his tea in hand. “Why?”
“Well, I’m going on a trip with my daughter next week, and I need someone to watch Logan here! He’d get so lonely without me here.”
Logan seemed disinclined to acknowledge Miss Wess’ words, instead choosing to jump onto Michael’s lap and startle him.
“Fancy that, he already likes you!” Miss Wess exclaimed as Logan put his front paws against Michael’s chest to sniff his face for a moment before licking it.
“Ah! I can see that.” Michael gently pushed Logan off of his lap. “So you want me to cat sit for you?”
“Only if you’re willing to. I can find someone else if you don’t want to, but I figured this would work out better! You live right next door, so all you’d need to do is come in and make sure he’s fed and has water. Oh, and you’ll need to walk him twice a day so he can stretch his legs properly. Logan loves to be outside.”
“Right…” Michael debated with himself for a moment before asking his next question. “How many days will you be gone?”
“Oh, from Sunday morning until Saturday morning. I should be back Saturday afternoon.” Miss Wess could clearly see that Michael was considering it. “And, it’s only fair that I pay you for your time, of course. I’d say $500 would cover the week, wouldn’t you?”
Michael blinked. That would more than easily cover his bills for the month. He’d have less to worry about with his new job if he already had the bills covered. “I suppose…”
“Or I could say $750?” Miss Wess offered.
“I don’t need that much,” Michael said quickly. “I can watch Logan for you. You said walk him twice a day?”
“Yes, and one of those times, I’d appreciate if you make sure his bowl is full.” Miss Wess seemed happier knowing that she’d sorted that out. “And if you’d like, I could introduce you to my daughter on Saturday when we get back.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary, Miss Wess.” Michael forced himself to take a sip of his tea in order to stop himself from scoffing at the stupid suggestion. She couldn’t possibly be trying to set him up with her daughter, surely?
“Alright, fine, fine. You’d like to take your own pick of the pack, that’s fine. But you will need to stop by anyway to return the key.” Miss Wess’ eyes twinkled as she finished up her tea.
Michael smiled thinly, feeling a bit hollow at the thought. He couldn’t bear to try to meet new people, to try to explain to them that he didn’t deserve their love, that he was a monster and a killer. “Thank you for the tea, Miss Wess.”
“I already told you to call me Beverly,” she scolded gently. “But you’re welcome here anytime, dear.”
Michael nodded, but he couldn’t bring himself to say much else. “I need to go…”
“Oh, that’s fine dear. Have a good day!” Beverly Wess watched Michael hurry to leave her house. “Oh, that poor man. He needs someone to comfort him.”
“Mrow?” Logan meowed, putting his paws on her knees, preparing to jump up.
“Yes, Logan. He needs some love in his life. I don’t know what happened to leave such a dark shadow over him, but he’s too lonely for his own good.” Beverly sighed, shaking her head. “Too sad for his own good too.”
Michael left early for his interview, knowing that he needed to make a good impression. Sure, they probably were going to hire him just because he was interested in the job, but maybe he wasn’t the only one interested in the job.
Taking a deep breath, he walked into the pizzeria, feeling the familiar scent wash over him and the familiar site greeting him. The animatronics were different, but that was the only thing that seemed to have changed. What appeared to be a Freddy and Chica model were performing onstage, and he could make out a mangled torso of another animatronic in the corner, surrounded by toddlers. Is that even safe? he wondered.
Shaking his head, he asked an employee where he could find Lloyd. They gestured toward a corridor where the light seemed to flicker. That wasn’t ominous at all, Michael thought, but he entered the hallway wearily.
The music felt more muted in the hallway, and Michael could see party rooms lining the corridor. Party room 2, he thought to himself, reaching for the door handle.
“Hey, you here for the night guard job?” A woman interrupted his thoughts, grabbing his arm to stop him from entering the party room.
“Uh, yeah?” Michael blinked, surprised as the woman yanked him away from the door and pulled him a ways down the hallway. “Hey, what are you-“
“Shut up.” She seemed to assess him. “What’s your name?”
“Michael? Michael Schmidt?” Was this some kind of extra test? To make sure the night guard was up for the position? Michael’s eyebrows scrunched, and he pulled his arm free. “Who are you?”
“Ramona Fitzgerald,” she answered, still assessing him. “Hmm… your clothes are shabby, although you did brush your teeth for this…” She stuck her hand in his hair, yanking him to her level. “Greasy hair though… Are you unemployed right now?”
“Yes?” Michael tried to flatten his hair. “Why are you grilling me?”
“I’m the one asking the questions here, Schimdt.” She frowned at him.
“Well, you’re interrupting my interview time, so we can talk later-“
“Shut up. I’m not done with you yet.” Ramona’s eyes narrowed. “Are you British?”
“I- I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” Michael replied defensively. “What is your deal?”
“What’s your deal?” she shot back at him. “Mister distinguished, showing up in a shabby button-down with greasy hair to a job interview.”
“It’s Freddy Fazbear’s. You probably care more than they do.”
“What if they put you on day shift?” she kept going, undeterred by the fact that he was giving her good answers.
“Miss Fitzgerald!” A voice from down the hall called. “I thought I told you to quit interrogating my interview subjects.”
“I’ll stop when I’m dead,” Ramona muttered. “Where’s my brother, Lloyd?”
“Your brother is missing?” Michael asked, suddenly completely interested. “What happened?”
“If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t be here.” Ramona glowered at Lloyd. “Go to your stupid interview. I’ll be waiting.”
With that ominous message out of the way, Michael went back to where Lloyd was waiting for him.
“Sorry about her, Mister…?”
“Schimdt. Michael Schmidt.”
“Right. She’s been acting crazy since her brother went missing a few days ago. Seems to think we took him out to replace him.” Lloyd shook his head in disbelief. “Which is utterly ridiculous. Jeremy was an excellent night guard, and he got along with the animatronics better than most. None of that ‘the animatronics are haunted’ nonsense either. No, if we’d had a problem with Jeremy, we would’ve fired him.” Lloyd cleared his throat and started the interview.
Leaving the interview with more questions that he should not have wanted to investigate, Michael was given a pat on the back, a set of keys, and a uniform. Lloyd told him his next shift would be tomorrow night, starting at 12 a.m., which was shockingly early.
“You got the job then?” Ramona asked dryly, following him out.
“Were you standing outside for that entire interview?” Michael asked, somewhat glad that she’d actually stuck around. Maybe she’d have some of the answers he needed.
“Maybe.”
“When you said your brother went missing, I assumed that meant he was an younger brother,” Michael remarked.
“He-“ Ramona stopped herself. “He’s only a year older than me.”
“Yeah, but I thought he’d be like, five. Not twenty-two.”
“Details details,” Ramona replied dismissively. “I didn’t realize this got at you. Concerned about the kids, are you?”
“Someone should be,” Michael muttered.
“Then why aren’t you working a day shift?” Ramona asked.
“The position was for night shift. So I’m working night shift.”
“Yeah, but-“ Ramona paused, realizing that they were just continuing down the sidewalk. “Do you not even have a car?”
“No?” Michael blinked at her.
“Okay, no, we’re not doing this. Come here.”
“What-“
“I’m driving you home, this is ridiculous.”
“I don’t need-“
“GET IN THE CAR, MICHAEL.” Ramona’s tone left no room for negotiation.
“Yes ma’am,” Michael replied weakly.
He pointedly did not address the dog sleeping in the back seat of the car. The dog blinked sleepily as he got in, but Ramona cooed softly at him, telling him everything was fine and he could go back to sleep. The injuries on the dog’s face begged to be asked about, but Michael didn’t think he deserved the right to ask.
“So you wanted the night shift, or you’re just taking the night shift because that’s what they offered you?”
“I’m taking the night shift because I’d rather the night shift than the day shift. I’m not good with kids,” Michael replied stiffly. “Next question.”
“Why Freddy’s? Why now?”
“It’ll pay the bills.”
“Yeah, but why Freddy’s?”
“I’ve been in and out of jobs for a while…” Michael shifted uncomfortably.
“So you wouldn’t be able to get a job anywhere else.” Ramona spared him a glance as she drove. “You’re a mess, no offense.”
“I’m aware.” Michael stared out the window. “Why are you so determined to bug me about this stuff, by the way?”
“Because. You seem almost genuine, but I’m not entirely sure on your motives just yet.”
“Wow, thanks,” Michael said sarcastically, finally facing her. “I’m glad I’ve gotten to the stage of mostly unsuspicious in your books.”
“No need to be rude about it,” Ramona wrinkled her nose. “I just want to make sure my brother is okay.”
The dog in the back seat whined.
“Shhh, it’s okay, Percy. We’ll find him,” Ramona told the golden retriever.
“So, I’m guessing that’s your brother’s dog?” Michael asked wearily.
“He sure is. I went to Jer’s apartment to look for him first, but he wasn’t there. The whole place was trashed, and Percy looked like he’d been gnawed on by a big animal. Couldn’t find it anywhere though, so I have no idea what actually happened. So I went to ask Lloyd if he knew where my brother was and found him conducting interviews.”
“I figured I wasn’t the first interrogation,” Michael observed.
“You weren’t. The others wussed out and just left though.” Ramona shrugged, pulling into Michael’s driveway. “I guess I helped test the proper strength for that job. You know the place is haunted, right?”
“Those are just rumors,” Michael answered, digging for his keys in his pocket.
“Uh huh. No, with the chompers on the Toy Bonnie animatronic? For sure those things get out and attack people. I’d bet either he or one of the other freaks from that place attacked Percy. Which means they probably got my brother too.”
Ramona let Percy out of the car to follow them into the house, something Michael really wished she’d asked him for permission for first. But she seemed the type to just do whatever she wanted to, so he wasn’t too offended. It was honestly just as invasive as she’d been since he met her.
He swiped the bills and his untouched letter from his father off the table and put them away in a cupboard. Ramona raised an eyebrow, immediately suspicious. “So, you think the animatronics attacked your brother?” he asked, hoping to distract from his rapid movement.
“Yeah… I think it’s kinda suspicious that Toy Bonnie was removed from the show. Apparently all three of them are typically onstage at the same time.”
“It did feel weird that Freddy was there without Bonnie today.” Michael shrugged, setting the bundle on the table. “But I don’t know that I believe that the animatronics are haunted.”
“How did they get into Jeremy’s house then?” Ramona countered. Percy seemed to agree with that as he paced around Michael’s kitchen.
“I don’t know! Burglars get into people’s houses all the time.”
“But they don’t chew on people’s pets.”
Michael’s mouth thinned. “Okay. Maybe the dog got hurt while they were on a walk or something and that’s why.”
“Jeremy would never mistreat his dog,” Ramona argued. “How dare you imply that.”
“I’m not implying anything!” Michael held his hands up in surrender.
“Mhm,” Ramona glowered at him. “Well, seeing as you seem invested in this, how about we team up? You help me find my brother, and I leave you alone with your questions answered. I get my brother back and you get to do your job in peace.”
“That doesn’t seem like an even trade-off,” Michael muttered.
“Oh, you want to play that game?” Ramona’s eyes flashed. “You really want to play that game with me, Michael Afton?”
Michael stiffened. “You-“
“I don’t know why you’re trying to lie about your legal name on job applications, but I bet they’d like to know that you’re not who you say you are. Especially since a ton of kids went missing a few years ago at this exact location.”
Michael’s mouth thinned. “You’re-“
“A bitch? Please, I’ve heard that from plenty of men before. You WILL help me, or your secret is out.”
They stared at each other, neither happy with the fact that they had to work together.
“Fine. What do you want from me?” Michael asked, resigned to this mess he’d gotten wrapped up in.
“Tell me about your night shifts. If anything weird happens, I want to know.”
“And if nothing weird happens? If there’s no sign of hauntings?”
Ramona rolled her eyes. “Well, you still have to help me find my brother. If it wasn’t the haunted animatronics, then it had to be something.”
Michael scowled. “Fine.”
“Fine.”
They stared at each other for another long moment before Ramona clicked her tongue and walked out, Percy following slowly behind her. He looked back at Michael and whined for a moment before hurrying after Ramona.
Michael rubbed his face. This was not going to be a pleasant experience, he could already feel it.
The week crawled by slowly. Michael got to a certain point where he just moved Logan’s food and water to his house and walked the cat after his shift each morning and then let the cat hang out and wander around his house. He’d stupidly bought a litterbox, but Miss Wess had paid him half before she’d left and was promising the second half after she got back, so it was fine.
Logan yawned, stretching across Michael’s torso.
“Oof!” Michael coiled in on himself as Logan launched himself off Michael’s stomach. “I thought I told you to quit that!” he scolded.
Logan just looked up at him before meowing.
“Nuisance,” Michael muttered. “I’ll feed you in a minute.”
Logan meowed at him again before slipping out of the room.
Sighing, Michael stretched before getting up. He’d given himself a few hours before his shift, just like he usually did, but most of his time came in the actual morning, which was when he’d typically call Ramona to give an update.
He glared at the stormy weather as he fed Logan, not happy that his shift was going to start with rain. He’d tried to get out of it, of course, but Phil, the guy who had the shift before him, had a child who’d gone to work with him. And Scott couldn’t stick around the pizzeria for a 12 hour shift, not when he had school in the morning.
So Michael had to go to work in the rain, something he hated much more than anything else he could imagine. He shoved his hat onto his head and double-checked his tie before giving Logan a thumbs up and walking out the door, his umbrella snapping open.
He’d long given up on being in a calm state of being before work, knowing that the animatronics were hunting him down (thanks for the late word of warning, Phil!) and wanted to kill him. There was no way he was going to be fine at the beginning of his shift.
Discarding the umbrella in the corner of the office, Michael took a deep breath, opening the cameras to wind the music box. Having the music playing loudly in his ears meant he did not hear the footsteps quickly approaching his room until his monitor was ripped from his hands by a golden hand.
Startled, Michael jerked back from the animatronic bear with a stuttered gasp. The combination of the water soaking through his clothes and into his skin and the very angry Fredbear standing before him was altogether too much.
Warmth seeped down his leg, making Michael dimly register that he’d wet himself. The animatronic didn’t leave him much chance to think about it though, as he was hefted out of his chair by his throat, leaving his feet scrambling for purchase on the table’s surface.
He choked out a breath as his hat tumbled from his hair and clattered to the desk, right next to the cracked camera screen. Feebly, he thought this is it, certain that he was finally earning his death for what he’d done to his brother four years ago.
Hot breath left Michael suffocating as the animatronic growled softly in his ear. “We’re taking back what we deserve.”
Michael closed his eyes, knowing that he deserved whatever the animatronic decided to do with him.
“Wait,” a soft voice echoed in his mind. “He’s not doing what he’s supposed to do. Why isn’t he begging?”
“He doesn’t have to beg. He just needs to die. We need to make sure it never happens again,” another voice argued. Her voice sounded harsher, more firm. “No more golden bunnies to hunt us. No more monsters to hurt or kill.”
Michael recognized one of the voices as his brother, but he couldn’t place the other. Weakly, he gasped out, “I don’t deserve to live anyway. Why would I beg?”
“Something’s wrong,” Evan whispered softly.
The tight grip around Michael’s throat loosened slightly.
The girl groaned, but she muttered something to herself before the animatronic completely let go of Michael. Pain flared up his whole leg as he collapsed back to the floor.
He groaned weakly, looking up to see two small children standing over him. Evan, he thought in a daze, trying to sit up. Michael wrapped his arms around his knees and leaned back against the desk, waiting for one of them to say something.
“Who are you?” the girl demanded.
“Michael.” He stared at her. “Who are you?”
“Unbelievable,” she scoffed. “Right. You made this mess, you clean it up.”
“Michael?” Evan echoed quietly, not seeming to hear the girl. “But… Michael’s dead…”
“No?” Michael’s eyebrows creased. “No, Evan, you were the one who died.”
“I know I’m dead!” Evan snapped. “Obviously! But I thought-“ He shook his head. “I guess I was wrong…” He reached out a hand tentatively, touching the side of Michael’s face. “You’re alive,” he said with wonder in his voice.
“Evan, you’re going to have to explain.” The girl crossed her arms. “I thought you said this was our killer.”
“I- Well, they look similar…” Evan looked sheepishly at the girl. “Sorry Cassidy.”
“Sorry Cassidy,” she repeated shaking her head. “Next time you get me all stirred up for something, it better be a golden rabbit, Afton.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Evan tried to smile, but the girl had already vanished, just like the animatronic.
Faintly Michael realized he’d have to tell Ramona about all this. I guess she was right about the pizzeria being haunted, he thought grimly. “You weren’t entirely wrong, at least,” Michael told his brother. “I did kill you-“
“No.” Evan shook his head firmly. “It was an accident. You said you’d be better if I woke up. And I tried so hard, Mikey. I tried so hard. I almost succeeded.”
Michael’s throat dried up. “But you still died. And it was my fault-“
“Michael.” Evan interrupted him. “You did not kill me. You didn’t do it.”
“But-“
“Can you let me speak for two seconds?” Evan shook his head again, this time with a huff of impatience. “Father killed me. He took me off life support.”
“But… why would he… No, that can’t be-“
“I saw him do it,” Evan said faintly. “I heard him grumbling about how this whole mess was your fault, and it wouldn’t go away unless he handled it himself. He killed me, and I thought that meant he was going to kill you too.”
Michael slowly got to his feet, still a bit unsteady. “That’s crazy.”
“He killed a bunch of other kids. I thought it seemed plausible enough. He hates you, Mikey.”
“Great.” Michael huffed out a frustrated breath. “I… So, you don’t blame me?”
“I mean, you didn’t mean it, right? You didn’t try to kill me?”
“Of course not!”
“Then why would I blame you?” Evan inquired, perching on the corner of Michael’s desk as he wound the music box.
“Because it was my fault?”
“It was an accident,” Evan insisted. “And you apologized over and over again, which is more than I can say for Father.”
“I don’t think you should forgive me.”
“That’s because you don’t forgive yourself.” Evan peered at the cameras. “Toy Freddy’s coming.”
“I know.” Michael shook his head, a faint smile on his face. “Are you trying to do my job for me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Evan scoffed, a smile forming on his own face. “You’d get yourself killed if I wasn’t here!”
“I was doing just fine until you tried to kill me!” Michael shot back.
“Liar, you wet yourself!” Evan jeered.
“No comment. Just let me do my job in piece, you crazy ghost.”
“No more crazy than you are for working a night shift here,” Evan muttered.
A thought suddenly occurred to Michael as he sat with his brother. The phrasing made him think of something Ramona said to him when they’d met. “Evan, did you know a guy named Jeremy Fitzgerald? He used to work the nightshift here before I did.”
“Yeah, he was friends with some of the animatronics, why?” Evan’s smile faded slightly.
“What happened to him?”
“I…” Evan hesitated. “I think he’s dead, Mike.”
“Dead? Why do you think he’s dead?”
“We had a break-in that night. And he was wearing a bunny costume. He dismantled Toy Bonnie, tried to kidnap a kid, and…” Evan paused. “Well, he took Jeremy’s hat. So I don’t think he stood a chance against that guy.”
“What got rid of the robber?” Michael asked, shoving the Freddy head over his ears as Toy Freddy strolled into the office.
Evan made a shooing motion, and the animatronic went away. “Cassidy scared him off, I think.”
“Fair enough.”
Their conversation mellowed out and turned into a continuing series of bickering back and forth, Michael narrowly missing death several times. The animatronics seemed unamused by the brotherly banter, but Michael didn’t care. Evan had never seemed this happy in life, and he was glad to have a chance to see him again, even if it was as a ghost.
Michael found himself humming cheerily as he walked home that morning, swinging the compacted umbrella around his wrist. The rain still made a trail down his back, but for once, he didn’t feel the thick blood gushing over his head and onto his shirt.
Logan meowed impatiently at him as he returned home. Michael rolled his eyes, hanging his hat by the door. “You’re so needy.”
Logan meowed again in response, uncaring of what Michael thought of him. Michael rubbed his face, and Logan leaned into the scratches. He smiled faintly at the cat. “Okay, okay, fine. You deserve food.”
Logan meowed reproachfully as Michael took his hand away to get his food ready. Logan jumped onto the counter, and Michael had to shove his face away. “Give me some space, you ridiculous cat.”
“Meow,” Logan replied, licking his hand as he waited very impatiently for his food.
Michael set the food back on the floor and walked away to go take a shower. I’ll walk him after, Michael thought to himself. He needed to change his clothes anyway, not to mention he needed to run his uniform through the wash.
Completely cleaned off with his clothes in the wash, Michael coaxed Logan over for his walk. Logan was not happy to go out into the rain. “Come on, buddy. Just one quick lap and then we can come back inside.”
Logan yowled at him in response, flattening himself against the house.
“Logan,” Michael said, tugging the harness gently. “We gotta do this really quick, and then you can go back inside-“
Logan wiggled free from his collar somehow, shooting across the street and in between some of the houses. Michael cursed, racing after him and stumbled as he went through the tall wet grass. “Logan!”
He lost track of the cat briefly before spotting him near a dumpster. “Logan, I swear-“ Michael cut himself off as a rustling noise came from within the dumpster.
Logan stiffened as well, flattening himself against the ground as he sniffed the air. Michael faintly heard growling and wondered if they’d run into a stray dog or something. The top of the dumpster stirred as golden fur peaked through, and for a brief moment Michael wondered if it was Percy, somehow having escaped Ramona to dig around in the trash.
The next moment changed his mind as giant clawed paws gripped the edge of the dumpster, and the head of the massive golden rabbit was visible. Huge ears flattened against the rabbit’s head as the rain started to soak into its fur.
“Logan, get back here, right now,” Michael whisper shouted to the cat at the base of the dumpster.
The cat replied by slipping underneath the dumpster, somewhere where the rabbit couldn’t get him.
“Um…” Michael trailed off as the rabbit’s eyes zeroed in on him. “Hi?”
The rabbit’s nose twitched slightly, and its head tilted slightly, almost human in its motions.
“You seem… lost?” Michael said, still uncertain about what he was saying. Somehow he hadn’t been eaten yet, and that was lucky in of itself.
The rabbit crept out of the dumpster, definitely towering over Michael. It came close, sniffing him. Michael had no idea how wild rabbits behaved, but suddenly he remembered what his brother had said about a rabbit in the pizzeria. Right. That had happened. Was it this rabbit maybe?
He stared at the chipped paint under the rabbit’s claws, wondering about the light blue coloring. And there was black inky stuff leaking down the rabbit’s mouth and across its chest a little bit.
Tentatively, Michael reached out a hand and stroked the rabbit’s nose. The nose twitched again before it butted aggressively against his hand, almost petting itself using his hand. Oh… it was just a stray bunny. A really big stray rabbit, but a sweet creature nonetheless.
Logan reappeared suddenly, meowing up at the rabbit. The bunny paid him no mind, too busy nuzzling against Michael’s hand to care much about the black cat. Logan meowed again, sounding more irritated.
“Right. Yeah, we gotta get back…” Michael stared forlornly up at the rabbit, a coil of fondness already tangling around him. “Do you… want to go with us?” He retracted his hand slowly, and a small squeak escaped the rabbit’s throat.
“Uh…” Michael picked up Logan, feeling his wet fur soaking through his shirt. “Follow me, I guess?”
The rabbit trailed behind him as he walked back, and Michael felt odd knowing that it had decided to trust him, but he’d already decided he didn’t care. If Logan wasn’t hissing at it, then it was probably fine… right?
Back home, Logan resumed eating, paying no more attention to the bunny who’d barely squeezed through the front door. Michael went to retrieve more towels, quickly returning to start cleaning what he assumed was motor oil from the rabbit’s face and then helping to dry it.
The rabbit nuzzled against his face, seeming happy with the results. Michael knew the fondness in his chest was not going to go away any time soon. He sighed to himself. How was he going to explain this to Ramona?
He’d presumably found the thing that had made her brother go missing, but he’d adopted it into his home, and it seemed harmless so far. In fact, it seemed to love him.
Teeth scraped against his neck, and Michael blinked. “Hey, no biting.”
The bunny tilted its head, jaw twitching slightly. Oh. It needed a chew toy. Glad he’d caught that before it turned deadly, Michael offered one of the dry towels up, bunching it up slightly to make it more firm.
The bunny gnawed at the towel, shredding bits of it off.
“You’re going to make me invest in chew toys, aren’t you?” Michael shook his head with a sigh. He yawned, unable to keep it in as he rubbed the rabbit’s belly.
His body swayed forward, and the fur was so soft, and Michael couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. Faintly, he registered the pause in the rabbit’s chewing as giant paws scooped him up to nestle him closer. Michael sighed as he was surrounded by fluffy warmth and couldn’t stop himself from falling asleep any longer.
The sound of a phone ringing jolted Jeremy from his sleep. It was loud, piercing through his head like a hammer. He buried his face in the other man’s shirt before registering what he was doing. Wait, what?
Jeremy sat up quickly, looking around. He was… on the floor. Okay. There was a man beside him, and they were both surrounded by towels. One of the towels looked awfully ratty, and Jeremy found himself wincing as he spat out a piece of fuzz. Right. Apparently, that had happened.
The next realization was that he was completely naked. Oh. Okay. Uhhhh… Panicked, Jeremy scanned the room looked for a bedroom of some kind. A door creaked, and Jeremy flinched, expecting someone else to be in the apartment. Instead his eyes landed on a small black cat. The cat blinked at him, tail rising as it went to go lick the other man’s face.
“Wait, don’t do that!” Jeremy whispered loudly. Panicked, he grabbed the cat who squirmed and meowed in his face. “Shhhhh!”
The man on the floor shifted slightly, muttering something in his sleep. Jeremy went rigid, the cat dangling in his arms as the man sighed deeply and relaxed again.
Jeremy looked at the cat again. “Do you know where the bedroom is?”
The cat meowed in irritation, squirming some more before swiping its claws across Jeremy’s arm.
“Ah! Fuck!” Jeremy swore loudly, dropping the cat with a heavy thud. “Shit,” he whispered as the guy beside him finally rolled over and opened his eyes. Jeremy grabbed a towel and covered the other man’s face.
“What the hell-“ The man tried to pull the towel away and caught Jeremy’s wrist. “Who the fuck-“
“Uhh, can you give me a second, please? I don’t know how I got here or anything, but I’d really appreciate a moment of privacy.” Jeremy blurted out, his face burning over the brief second he’d heard the other man speak. Shit, why’d he have to sound attractive too?
“Pardon?”
“I, uh. I appear to have no clothes. Like, at all. So, unless you want to see that, I would love if you gave me a second.”
“Where are you expecting to get clothes from then?” the other man replied seemingly fully awake now. “Just cover up with towels or something. I’m sure there’s a bloody pile of them on the floor right now. I’ll get you some clothes.”
“Ah, I guess that’s… yeah, okay…”
Jeremy relaxed his grip on the towel, quickly burying himself in the rest of the towels around him before giving the man the go ahead to uncover his eyes.
Bright blue eyes blinked wearily at him, taking in his long golden hair and trailed down his torso. “Hey…”
“Right, clothes, sorry.” He shook his head and got to his feet. “I had to see if you were my size, but sorry.”
Well, that was an excuse if Jeremy had ever heard one. Still, he’d let it pass because he was still gawking at the man as he walked away, entering the room that the cat had come from.
Jeremy wanted to scream. Of all places to randomly wake up after a few nights of being trapped as a monster, a hot guy’s house was not where he was expecting to wake up. And why had they been asleep together? Did the guy have a fetish or something? Oh god, he really hoped not. It’d be a shame if this attractive guy was some kind of creep or something. Jeremy both hated and loved the implications, but the cat didn’t seem to be staring at him too judgmentally, so surely nothing had really been happening.
“Here. I think these should fit, but I’ll give you a second.” The man was interrupted by the phone ringing again. “Uh, bathroom’s that way.” He gestured vaguely before going to answer the phone. “Shit, what do you want Ramona?”
After the initial daze of being handed a bunch of clothes, Jeremy froze at the name. “Ramona Fitzgerald?”
The other man shot him a look before returning to his phone call. “Yeah yeah, you nosy bitch. I do have things to report. Can you give me like, ten minutes? I’ll call you back.” The man pinched his nose and hung up the phone. “Okay, pretty boy. Who are you and how the hell did you get into my house? And why do you know Ramona Fitzgerald?”
“Um. That’s… Well…”
Blue eyes leveled an impatient look at him, and the man slowly approached him. “Well?”
“I’m uh. Ramona’s my sister…” Jeremy scratched his neck. “I.. I’m.. Well, my name is… I’m Jeremy Fitzgerald.”
“You’ve got to be joking.” The man stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Well-“
“No, no, just stop talking. Stop for a second.” A hand covered Jeremy’s mouth. “You’re really going to sit here and say that you’re Jeremy Fitzgerald after everything I’ve had to tolerate because of your sister? Do you have any idea how worried she is about you?”
Jeremy blinked. He couldn’t bring himself to move away from the hand covering his mouth.
“God, you would be a bloody idiot, wouldn’t you.” The man sighed. “Go get dressed. We can finish this conversation later.”
The cat meowed at that moment, too impatient to wait much longer.
“Yeah, I’ll get you some food, Logan, you fucking glutton.”
The cat shot him a look, meowing again.
“I’m getting to it!” The man stood up, clearly exasperated. “If you sit in my kitchen all morning instead of getting dressed, I will kick you out, with or without answers.”
“Uh, yeah. Okay.” Jeremy scrambled to his feet, still nervous about the man turning around again. He hesitated for a moment before bolting to the bathroom to try on the clothes.
His first impulse was to sink his fingers into the shirt, surprised by the soft, worn material. He had so many questions that were not appropriate to ask, so he pulled the shirt over his head before staring awkwardly at the boxers and pants. Shaking the thoughts free from his head, he hurriedly pulled on the rest of the clothes and exited the bathroom to see the other man nursing a cup of… coffee? Tea? Jeremy wasn’t entirely sure.
“Uh, hi again,” Jeremy said awkwardly.
The man raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you going to just stand there?”
“I was planning on it, yeah.”
“Sit.”
“Okay…” Jeremy perched tensely on the edge of a chair.
The man stared at him for a moment before muttering something to himself. “Jesus, can you calm down enough to be normal?”
“I… I mean, I really shouldn’t be here. I appreciate all the help and everything, but I don’t think me sticking around is a good idea-“
“Shut up for a minute, would you? Ramona is going to be here in 20 minutes. We’ll see if she thinks you are who you say you are.”
“Oh.” Jeremy stared down at the table, afraid of more questions.
“So. I’m Michael.” The man took a sip from his mug of whatever he’d been drinking.
“Okay.” That was a lovely name, Jeremy thought. It suited him too, and Jeremy couldn’t help but sweep his gaze across the man’s tired face and tangled brown hair. “You seem a bit exhausted there, Mike.”
“Michael,” he corrected, frowning slightly.
“Right. Sorry. You seem tired, Michael.”
“What did you do with the rabbit?” Michael said suddenly. “There was a rabbit here before.”
“Uh…” Jeremy pointedly looked away. “I think that should be a bit more obvious.”
“Evan said you were probably dead. The rabbit supposedly killed you.”
“I guess that’s one way to put it,” Jeremy answered bitterly. Flashes of the last few nights flickered across his mind. The cat seemed more afraid than Michael did. The soft gaze from his memories nearly made Jeremy melt. He wanted to find a way to earn that gaze again. Of all the times to have appeared as a rabbit.
Michael stared at him, seemingly waiting for him to say more. A knock at the door made him curse, and he got up to answer the door. “Fucking Ramona.”
Jeremy wanted to smile at the way Michael’s accent made his curse words sound. But he had a feeling that wouldn’t be appropriate.
“Let me see him,” the familiar demanding tone of his sister’s voice broke through his thoughts.
“Mona?” Jeremy blurted out.
“Jerry?” Ramona shoved past Michael to walk into the room. “Oh, you’re okay!” She yanked him out of his chair and squeezed him in a tight hug.
“That’s my end of the deal upheld,” Michael said stiffly, closing the door.
Logan hissed, shooting between Michael’s legs to hide behind the man.
“You can get out of my house now,” he added, crossing his arms. “Ramona.”
“Oh, go to hell, Michael. I just found out that my brother is alive and unharmed, give me a minute to process before you be an ass.”
“Fucking hell,” Michael muttered, walking past them to enter the bathroom.
Jeremy tried to sputter out an apology, but Ramona was squeezing him so tightly he could barely squeak out a breath. “Mona, please let me breath.”
“Sorry.” Ramona released him from the hug, still holding both shoulders. “You’re okay? Nothing broken? Nothing bruised?”
“I’m just a bit hungry.”
Ramona’s eyes flashed at that. “You didn’t feed him?” she shouted at Michael.
“I haven’t bloody well eaten yet! Leave me alone woman!”
“It’s not Michael’s fault. Ramona, please calm down for a second.”
“His father’s a killer, Jeremy. The apple doesn’t tend to fall too far from the tree,” Ramona said quietly.
“Well, he was plenty nice to me. I think you just put him in a bad mood,” Jeremy said sheepishly.
“These aren’t your clothes,” Ramona noticed suddenly. “Oh, Jer, tell me you didn’t…”
“What?” Jeremy blinked, confused by the sudden turn in the conversation. “Ramona, are you feeling okay?”
“Please tell me you didn’t sleep with Michael.”
Jeremy’s mouth fell open. He had no idea how to answer that question. “Ramona.”
“Did you or did you not?”
“I did not have sex with Michael!” Jeremy said a bit too loudly.
Michael scowled at the pair of them, holding his hand up in a rude gesture. “Get the hell out of my house.”
“Fuck you too,” Ramona shot back. “Come on, Jeremy. Let’s go.”
“What- Wait, Ramona, can’t you at least-“
“We’re leaving.”
Jeremy tried to shoot an apologetic look to Michael, but the man had already turned away to resume brushing his teeth. Great. So much for first impressions.
“You’re mean, you know that?” Jeremy said irritably as he dropped into the passenger seat.
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aemondsbabe · 2 days
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summary: your uncle catches you sneaking from the keep and decides you need to be punished, but finds a sweet surprise instead
pairing: daemon x niece!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, canon typical incest, infidelity but it's not really mentioned rhaenyra just exists lol, mentions of menstruation, reader is on her period, period kink on daemon's part, blood kink, blood, spanking, mild coercion, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m), slight corruption kink, good cop/bad cop daemon
word count: 4.4k
a/n: this fic is part of a collab with a bunch of my lovely moots! @lady-phasma came to us with an ask about period sex and daemon and, being as lovely as she is, she offered us all the chance to collab on it -- choosing our own characters & how to play the story!
🩸masterlist of everyone's fics here!
all board creds to the lovely @zaldritzosrose ♥️
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
❤️my masterlist
🦋find me on ao3!
🌟add yourself to my taglist!
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“Uncle, please!” You plead again, though you know it’s useless; your voice carries in the empty corridors of the Keep, “I promise I won’t do it again! I swear it!” 
Daemon merely grunts in response, his grip on your shoulder tightening while he guides you along. You struggle to keep up with his long strides, his quick pace nearly knocking you over; your heart leaps into your throat when you’re finally tugged to a lurching stop.
“In you get,” he says gruffly, leaving you no room to argue as he ushers you into his study, “You and I have much to discuss, little niece.”
Huffing petulantly, you duck under his arm and slowly make your way into the small chamber. Truthfully, it was normally used as storage for the library but since Daemon and Rhaenyra and their sons had been back in King’s Landing, he had all but commandeered it for himself and had ordered that a writing desk be brought into the room. Glancing around at the various high bookshelves, you wince when he finally pulls the door closed. 
“Now,” he drawls, walking around to stand before you, arms crossed over his broad chest, “Do you want to explain to me exactly why I found you sneaking through the halls at this hour?” His violet eyes bore into yours, making you feel flush under his exacting stare. 
“I was merely going to the kitchens!” You murmur defensively, holding his gaze for only a second longer before glancing away, “I just… I was going to get more of the lemon cakes we had at dinner this evening! I know it’s naughty, but I –”
“No,” he cuts you off, voice low and firm as he narrows his eyes at you, no doubt seeing through your lies with ease. “You were being naughty, sweet niece, I dare say that bit is true,” he smirks, hooking a finger under your chin and forcing your eyes up toward his, “But we both know it wasn’t lemon cakes you were after.”
“I-It was!” You try once more, internally flinching at the way your voice cracks.
“This is a very fine dress for simple lemon cakes, then, isn’t it?” His brows raise knowingly while his other hand comes up to pluck at an embroidered sleeve. 
“Well… well it wouldn’t be proper to be out in my night –”
“So, it’s propriety you’re so concerned with now, is it?” He cuts you off again, smirking wildly as he’s hardly even having to work at cornering you, the sweet little thing that you are, “That’s quite funny, seeing as how it’s also very improper for a young lady, a young princess at that, to be out galavanting around King’s Landing all night…”
You balk at that, lips parting in surprise as your brows furrow. “I wasn’t!” You quickly breathe, voice sounding more like a mousey little squeak, “I would never, uncle! I merely… I o-only got dressed to go to –”
“Come now,” he says slowly, voice low but firm, “This isn’t even the same pretty dress you had on at dinner. If you’re going to lie, at least try and be good at it.”
You open your mouth instinctually, a defensive reply ready on your tongue, though you quickly think better of it and snap your lips shut once more, jaws clenched. Your eyes flit away from him and your heart hammers in your chest; you hate the way you can feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you swallow thickly, fighting against the tightness building at the back of your throat, the stinging behind your eyes. 
“Shh, there’s no need for all that,” he murmurs, swiping a thumb beneath your eye to quickly wipe away an errant tear; your breath catches in your throat at how quickly he can shift from intimidating to doting. 
“Please… please don’t tell my mother,” you whine, switching to bargaining instead, “If she finds out, I won’t be allowed out again until I’m married and Gods know when that might be…”
He chuckles at that, a playful smirk on his lips when he shakes his head. “I won’t tell on you, sweetling,” he all but croons, making you relax somewhat until you see a devious gleam in his eyes, “If you tell me what you were really up to. Because I know damn well it wasn’t lemon cakes.”
Your heart sinks again and you chew at your bottom lip for a moment, nervously wringing your hands. You cannot tell him the truth, you know that much but you hardly trust yourself to speak at all, fearing he’ll work it out of you one way or another.
Daemon’s impatient grumble makes you wince. “I was just… just going to a tavern! Honest!” You rush out, squeaking and stumbling over your words like a nervous mouse, “I merely wanted to go out on my own! Just once!”
He stays silent for a moment, eyes boring into yours and narrowing just slightly, before he sighs heavily and shakes his head. “What in the world were you thinking?” He murmurs, sounding exactly as he does when he scolds little Joffrey, “Do you have any idea what might’ve happened to you?”
“I would’ve been careful!”
“It’s not about what you would’ve done, naive little thing,” he snickers, making your cheeks flush, “Certainly you’re aware that nearly every man in that wretched city would give to –”
“I’m quite aware,” you interject, snapping in annoyance and shuddering at the thought of what he was insinuating. 
“Careful,” your uncle warned, gaze darkening and growing serious once more, “Don’t take that tone with me, I could very well march you right to your mother; you’ll be lucky to be made a septa if she catches wind of this.”
Your jaws clench and you have to fight the urge to scoff, to roll your eyes. “Well, I don’t appreciate you speaking to me like I’m some idiotic child!”
“Oh, aren’t you?” He huffs, taking a step closer to you, “Only an idiotic little fool would venture into King’s Landing in the dead of night to get up to Gods know what with Gods know who!” 
“I told you!” You bite back, trying to keep your voice steady, “We would’ve been –” 
The air feels as if it’s been sucked out of the room by the time you manage to shut yourself up, though it’s already much too late. Daemon’s head tilts to the side curiously, a sinister smirk on his lips once more, the second you squeeze your eyes shut and internally scold yourself for making such an error.
“We?” 
“Aegon,” you admit after a tense moment, knowing there’s hardly any use in drawing it out further.
“Ah, Aegon,” he drawls, chuckling to himself as he nods, “Letting big brother take you on a tour of the city then?”
“Something like that,” your voice is little more than a whisper while you nervously bite at your lip, keeping your eyes downcast.
“My, my,” you can practically feel the smugness radiating off of him as he circles you, arms behind his back, “An unplucked little flower, galavanting around the city, and with a married man, no less.”
Again, you clench your jaw as anger builds within you, grinding your teeth together while you will yourself to just stay quiet. You can’t help but remember a story Aegon had told you once, years before. At the time, you thought it was nothing more than a rumor, just old family gossip compounded by the murmurings of smallfolk. Now, though, just the mere chance that there may be even a sliver of truth to it makes your blood run hot. 
How dare he.
Daemon snickers again, the sound of it makes you clench your fists. “I do wonder what my dearest brother would think of that.”
“Yes, uncle, what would father think?” You snap before you can help yourself, lips set into a tight frown while you peer up at him.
“I said careful –”
“Because he’s heard all of that before, hasn’t he?” You try, heart skipping a beat when his eyes widen just slightly before quickly narrowing again.
“Watch yourself.”
“No!” You scoff, chest heaving with a righteous rage, “You’re no better than me, certainly no better than Aegon – doing the exact same thing to Rhaenyra! You’ve no right to lecture me in this –”
“I married her, that is the difference,” he says lowly, a harshness to his tone you’ve never heard before; he grips your shoulder with one hand, fingers digging almost painfully into your skin, “I made an honest woman of her, something your drunken cunt of a brother cannot ever do.”
“An honest woman,” you scoff, some part of your subconscious is begging you to shut up but you ignore it, “Honest enough to birth three strong boys, isn’t that right uncle?” 
That’s the final nail in your proverbial coffin – echoing Aemond’s words from earlier in the evening, though you suppose you at least had the wherewithal to not ruin dinner. 
“That’s it,” Daemon snaps, violet eyes burning with a fire that would rival that of the Dragonmont, “I really didn’t want to have to do this, princess.”
Your brows furrow for only a second and you’re silently planning an escape route as he presses against your shoulder, assuming that he’s making good on his threats to parade you before your parents. Your cheek is already pressing against the smooth, dark wooden surface of the desk before you register that he was never pushing you toward the door. 
Flustered and disoriented, alarm bells ring in your head as you squirm against the hand on your back, pinning you down. Your eyes widen when you feel him tugging your skirts up, panic flooding through you when you realize what he’s doing.
“Uncle, please!” You plead, bracing your hands against the desk as you attempt to push yourself up to no avail, “I’m sorry, truly! I didn’t mean it!”
“Enough!” Daemon barks, pulling your skirts up over your backside and letting the fabric bunch in against the small of your back, “You need to be taught some manners, little brat.” 
You hardly have time to take in another lungful of air before his hand is cracking down against your rear, making you yelp even as the pain of it is dulled by the thin fabric of your smallclothes. You fight against his hold all the while, grunting and squirming like a rabbit in a trap. 
Unfortunately, he realizes after a moment that this particular method doesn’t seem to be quite enough. A little panicked yell is wrenched from your lips when you feel his fingers hook into the waist of your smallclothes, making an icy chill run down your spine for an altogether different reason than the threat of pain.
“Uncle Daemon, wait!” You beg, shoving an arm behind your back and attempting to bat away his hand, “Y-You can’t, you mustn’t!”
“Come now,” he scoffs, easily pushing your hand away, “It’s only a backside, sweet niece, you think I haven’t seen one before?”
“It’s not tha –”
“And you seemed more than prepared to let dearest Aegon see much more than that, hm?” He drawls, going to tug at the fabric once more.
“I wasn’t!” You try again, desperate to make him understand, “W-We couldn’t have done anything, anyway!”
“Couldn’t have done…?” He questions, brows furrowing as he finally wrenches your smallclothes over the curve of your rear, tugging them unceremoniously down until they hang at your knees. It’s only then that he sees the issue, unable to keep the smirk off of his face as he hears you whine softly against the desk. 
This is what all that fuss was about? He thinks, eyes trailing over the bright red streaks, tacky on your inner thighs, until they settle on the blood soaked linens folded in the gusset of your underwear. 
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he sighs, the hand on your back rubbing up and down in a way that would be soothing in any other circumstance. “Now, what were you saying?” He asks casually, like he’s talking to you about the weather and like your arse isn’t out on display. 
“Aegon… Aegon and I couldn’t have done anything anyway,” you try again, praying he’ll take mercy on you, “Because of, well…”
“Because of what? A little blood?”
You merely nod, flushing so badly that your cheeks tingle as blood rushes to them.
“Oh, you sweet little lamb,” he coos, suddenly bringing a hand down against your rear again, smirking when you yelp at the sting, “Do you think men care about getting their swords a little bloody?”
He doesn’t give you a chance to answer as he smacks you again, easily holding you down when you begin struggling once more. Again, his eyes trail over your slit, heart quickening in his chest while he admires the crimson against your skin. Rhaenyra has only let him have her like this a scant few times, the pains that come along with her monthly blood keeping her from arousal and though he has not given into his cravings, he would be a fool to deny them. 
His jaw clenches as he grits his teeth, spanking you yet again, alternating between cheeks, before soothing the sting with gentle caresses and smirking when you shiver at the soft touch. You remind him of her, you always have, though he’s never voiced it. All youthful vigor, filled with an untamed confidence that only naivety can bring, and with a fiery temper to match – more like your half-sister than you knew. 
Perhaps his desires could be managed in… other avenues. 
He brings his hand down once more, relishing the way you squirm and cry, your delicate skin hot beneath his palm. His member stirs, pressing angrily against the ties of his trousers, when he notices a little rivulet of red running down your inner thigh.
“You know,” he starts, petting his hand over your back while you sob, tears leaking onto his desk, “Many men quite enjoy their women this way, sweet niece.”
He smirks when he hears your breath hitch, swears he can hear your heart fluttering like the wings of a little bird in the quiet chambers. 
“Warm, open… slick,” he drawls, taking a second to squeeze at the soft skin at the back of your thigh, the very tip of his thumb just barely running through a little crimson drip. He brings his hand up, marvels at the dark droplet staining his finger for only a second, before flicking it away with his tongue. 
You gasp, having been watching curiously from the corner of your eye as an altogether different kind of heat swarms your veins. You don’t fight his hold any longer, victim to his spell even as your mind wars with itself. 
“I-It’s messy, though…” You try, your voice sounding unconvincing to your own ears; you swallow nervously when he chuckles. 
“Mm, it’s not all that different from any other honeyed hole, sweet niece,” Daemon soothes, putting your worries at ease while he trails a hand over your inner thighs, licking his lips at the way your tacky skin feels against his fingers, “It can be messy, yes, but… some men prefer mess.”
Do you? You wonder, although you already know the answer, legs spreading unconsciously at his touches. A whine slips from your lips when he moves his hand back up, rubbing it over your still sore backside. 
“Still stings?” He asks, one eyebrow raised. He tuts when you nod, soothing you gently, like the sting isn’t his fault, “Lucky for you, I know just the thing for it.”
“What…?” You question, brows furrowing as you attempt to push yourself up from the desk, only to be pushed back down against it – albeit a little gentler this time. 
“You just relax,” he croons, all traces of the anger from before gone; the fires within him extinguished at the thought of finally getting what he’s missed for so long, “Let uncle kiss it better, hm?”
A shiver goes through you at his words and your breath catches in your throat, eyes wide as you feel him move around you, slinking from his place at your side to your back. Fabric rustles behind you and just as you open your mouth to ask what’s going on, a loud gasp tears itself from your throat. 
Daemon kneels on the floor behind you, bent down on one knee, and leans in, pressing a gentle, feather light kiss against one cheek before alternating to the other. His hands grab at your hips, holding you in place, eyes trained on the side of your head drinking in the little flashes of emotion on your face – shock and uncertainty slowly giving way to a cautious curiosity. He could work with that. 
“Feeling better?” He husks, smirking against your soft skin when he sees you nod, hears the little whimper halfway trapped in your throat. He carries on, pearlescent hair tickling the backs of your thighs each time he leans in, kissing your skin. Eventually, his touches begin to linger, hands rubbing over the sides of your thighs while his tongue licks against you every so often. The soft, patient touches soothe you, tamper your worry, and soon enough pleased little sighs and hums begin filling the room, music to his ears. 
Quickly, he pulls at the ties of his trousers, groaning against the curve where your ass and thigh meet when his member springs free, bobbing against his lower belly. Wrapping a hand around himself, he continues – kissing and licking along the backs of your thighs before finally reaching what he most desires.
“U-Uncle!” You gasp, eyes squeezing shut when he licks into the crease of your thigh, the skin there no doubt smeared with the blood you can feel running down your legs every few moments, painting streaks of red down to your knees. 
Your feeble little warble is drowned out by the deep, throaty growl that leaves him – a man dying of thirst finally finding an oasis in the desert. He nudges at your thigh, panting a low, “Good girl,” when you part them more – as much as your smallclothes, still bunched around your knees, will allow. His head spins thinking of how passionate you’ll become with more experience, already so eager.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, spitting into his palm and grunting while he works a hand over his cock, panting as he admires your flowering center for a moment – your little petals shining, crimson staining your skin nearly all the way down to your knees. He feels like a man possessed, drunk and proud as his cock twitches against his palm. 
Another groan rumbles in his chest when he dives in, all thoughts of being gentle and slow thrown to the wayside as he presses his face against you, uncaring as to whether he can fill his lungs or not. 
“Daemon!” You yelp, hands scrambling over the smooth surface of the desk, mind reeling while you try to find something, anything to hold onto. His tongue is unlike anything you’ve ever felt, eons better than the way your own fingers feel pressed against your cunt in the wee hours of the morning. 
Your chest heaves when he groans against you, tongue toying with the stiff little bud at the apex of your slit for a second before he fucks it into you, all but punching whines and moans from your throat. Your cheeks flush at the sound of it, the slick, wet sounds of his tongue working against you almost painfully loud in the small study. 
His hips rut into his hand as he suckles at your pearl, burying his nose into you while deep moans resound in his chest — head clouded at the taste of you, at the slick feel of your blood against his lips, on his tongue. 
Gods, he’s missed this. 
The fire in his belly builds steadily while he takes what he needs from you, the little throbs your cunt gives around his tongue only serving to push him further and further toward the end. 
“Seven Hells, you taste divine,” he growls, rubbing his thumb over the head of his cock, his other hand tugging an arse cheek to the side, opening you more for him before skimming his fingers over your taut bud, smirking at the way your core clenches. 
“Please, please,” you pant, hips canting against the edge of the desk, breath foggy against the dark wood.
“Don’t worry, sweetling,” he murmurs, licking your taste from his lips, “I’m not done with you yet.” 
Your knees nearly buckle when he licks you again, laving his tongue over the entirety of you – lapping from your pearl almost all the way up to your other hole, the thought of such a thing stealing the air from your lungs. Your mind reels as he suckles at you, core aching from how tightly the knot in your tummy is wound. 
Daemon growls against you, the rhythm of his hand stuttering the closer he gets, stones pulling tight as he nears his end. He can tell you’re close as well from the way you press back against him, rutting on his tongue while breathy little moans tumble, unbidden, from your lips. 
The thought of your wet cunt clenching around his tongue causes his length to pulse again, causes it to leak against his fingers. Gods, he needs that. 
“Ah!” You pant when he redoubles his efforts and presses his tongue as far into you as he can, groan rumbling against you as he nuzzles into your folds, savoring the sweet coppery taste on his tongue. 
He feasts then, hand striping up and down his cock with abandon while he fucks his tongue into you, curling it and pressing it against as much of you as he can while his chin presses against your pearl, pulling loud cries from you. 
“U-Uncle, uncle, I… Gods, Daemon, I’m…” you stutter, words dying on your lips as pleasure threatens to white out your mind. You pant, breathlessly rocking against his face while your body tenses, instinctively preparing for the incoming onslaught. 
He grunts into you, fucking into his fist while his other hand squeezes at your arse. His eyes roll back in his head when he feels you tighten on his tongue, your walls finally beginning to suck at him in earnest. Just as his stones tighten to the point of no return, he smacks his hand against your rear once more, groaning victoriously as the dam finally breaks. 
“Fuck!” You shout, muscles tensing and falling limp all in the same breath as your high slams into you, rough and unforgiving — heightened by your menstrual flux. You can hear Daemon grunting and growling behind you, your cunt pulsing on his tongue. 
Below you, he feels as if he’s ascended to the clouds, stomach lurching like it does when Caraxes takes flight. He groans, long and loud, against you, into you, as his cock throbs, spend splashing down against his trousers, dripping to the floor. 
“O-Oh!” You breathe, hips twitching as he licks over you for a moment more, taking all he can. Your little tired cries make him chuckle as his touches border on overstimulation. He finally takes mercy on you and pulls away with a satisfied sigh, tucking his member back into his trousers as he stands, grunting at the soreness of his knee. 
There’s a heady fondness in his eyes as he lets them trail over you, watching as you catch your breath, limp. “Feel okay?” He asks, petting a hand down your spine before bending to press a sweet kiss against the back of your shoulder. 
You nod, your cheek slick against the desk while you finally start coming back to yourself. “Gods,” you sigh tiredly, blinking the fog from your eyes. 
Daemon chuckles at that, his normally mouthy niece reduced to little sighs. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and walks to a small mirror on the wall, well really an old, polished placard, but it’ll do. 
His eyes widen when he catches sight of himself, features distorted somewhat in the reflective golden surface, but clear enough to see the blood left on his skin. A smirk grows on his lips and he lets himself admire it for a second, mind flashing back to the aftermath of his victory against the Crabfeeder, before he begins wiping at his skin. 
From the corner of his eye, he sees you beginning to stir, arms shaking as you push yourself up from the desk. He stares at his reflection for a moment, jaw clenching as his heart pangs feebly. 
With a sigh, he walks the few steps over to you and steadies you, pressing a hand to your back. “Careful,” he warns, playful glint in his eyes while he guides you to the spare chair against the wall and coaxes you to sit, not caring if the fabric gets stained, “You’ll give me a complex.” 
Your lips quirk into a smile at that and you chuckle, eyes widening when you finally get a good look at him. “Ohh…” you balk, not expecting to see blood, your blood, trailing down his chin, painting him like a satiated lion, “I’m… I’m sorry…” You murmur, not knowing what else to say. 
“Why?” He chuckles, affectionately carding his fingers through your hair as he blindly wipes at his face a little more, “Did you not enjoy it?” 
“I did…” you admit softly, bashful before him now. Strength seems to find you again and you bend forward to pull up your smallclothes, only to stop yourself when Daemon leans down to do it himself. 
“Then there’s no reason to be sorry,” he says with a sigh, pulling your smallclothes back into place and letting you adjust them to your fancy, “Blood can be wiped away, sweetling.” 
“I’m sorry for what I said earlier too,” you murmur, wringing your hands while the two of you stand together. You watch as he busies himself with righting his clothes, making sure his trousers are tied well and smoothing out his tunic. You can’t help thinking that he looks handsome like this, finally seeing him how Rhaenyra might. 
Nervously, you pull at your skirts, smoothing them out and fidgeting with your bodice. You look up when he clears his throat, surprised to be met with a smile. 
“As I said,” he placed a hand on your shoulder, gentle this time, “Blood can be wiped away, sweet girl.”
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thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)
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autball · 2 days
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Part 4 of a 5 part series about the ways harmful practices can be made to sound appealing and how to spot the differences between helpful and harmful approaches.
Sensory sensitivities are a huge part of being autistic (and sometimes ADHD, too). They can range from kind of annoying but manageable to debilitating and meltdown-inducing. They can fluctuate from day to day and situation to situation. They can seem to pop up one day out of nowhere and disappear just as quickly.
Sensory differences are dynamic, which can make them unpredictable and disruptive. Not many people want to live that way, so working on sensory desensitization with someone who has a lot of sensitivities sounds like a thing that could help. Fewer meltdowns and able to do more things? Yes please!
But as you might have guessed, there’s a giant problem with that: reducing sensitivity isn’t really a thing you can do TO someone. At least, not without inducing a trauma response or two. You can certainly get someone to learn to ignore their own body signals or pretend to be fine when they’re not, but that’s not a sensory thing. That’s a dissociation thing.
“Sensory desensitization” is usually code for exposure therapy. Exposure therapy has its uses, but addressing legitimate sensory issues isn’t one of them. And it should only be done WITH someone who can fully consent and actively participate. Coercing and/or forcing someone to interact with distressing sensory input until they stop reacting is not that.
“Sensory desensitization” also operates under the assumption that people just get used to, or habituate to, the noises and sensations around them, even ones that bother them. But studies have shown that autistic people actually don’t habituate to sensory stimuli the way non-autistic people do. It may take way longer to happen, or it may never happen at all.
You know what can and does happen? Sensory sensitivities can just kinda…change. All on their own. We grow up, our hormones change, our stress levels change, our environments change, and our sensory profiles are affected by all of those things (and more!). Sensitivities can just disappear, naturally, without any intervention. And that’s about the only thing I’d ever refer to as real sensory desensitization.
But sensory sensitivities can go any which way. Maybe new ones rear their ugly heads. Or maybe something bothers us at a level 7 one day and 2 the next, then goes all the way up to 11 next week. And then there are the ones that just stay pretty much the same, all the time, forever.
I could not handle pants for a long time as a kid, but then somewhere along the way, I could. I really couldn’t tell you when it happened. There are some foods that used to make me gag that no longer do, and there are some that I still just cannot handle. I have never been okay with things that stick to my hands, and that really hasn't changed since as far back as I can remember. 
You know what all these sensory sensitivities have in common? Someone made me “tolerate” them at some point, often repeatedly. And none of them changed (or didn’t) because of repeated exposure, but because of my natural development. All I got from forced exposure was this lousy tendency to disconnect from myself.
Sensory desensitization is just not a thing we should be trying to do to people. Sensory *integration* is a real thing that can help people, but that is a whole different animal that requires more than just exposing people to stuff that bothers them. You’ll need an OT (Occupational Therapist) with the specialized training for that. Just make sure they’re not sneaking behaviorism tactics or exposure therapy in there either (yep, the words “sensory integration” can be used to misrepresent what they’re doing, too).
It is a far better thing to help someone learn about their own sensory profile and how to manage their sensory needs than to make them ignore their own body signals. Alexithymia is not #goals.
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End Game 2
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.
Characters: Andy Barber
Note: we're here to boo Andrew.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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“So, you’re coming?” Jacob’s voice quavers with excitement. You can’t imagine how he’d sound if you said no. You hate letting people down, it seems to be all you've ever done.
“Uh, yeah,” you say as you steer around the track; opting for some MarioKart over Minecraft that night, “boss says it’s no problem to get the days off. Just have to make it up after. Is... Is everything still good on your end?” 
“Oh yeah, sure thing,” he assures buoyantly, “I can’t wait. Did you still wanna split the airBnB?” 
“Actually, I got a place to stay for the night then I’ll take the early bus back,” you explain as Princess Peach knocks you off the track, “argh!” 
“Right, that’s good,” he says, “good to know you won’t be stranded out there.” 
“Mhm,” you use your boost to catch up to Peach and get your revenge. You don’t mention that Kara will be with you at the con. You just want to be sure this isn’t something wonky. “It’ll be nice to get out of town. My grandma will probably be happy to have the place to herself.” 
“Yeah,” he scoffs, “what’s her problem anyway?” 
“Just the way she is. She likes her space,” you shrug, “I don’t know, I don’t think she expected to be raising her granddaughter...” 
“Ah, yeah, I guess that would be stressful,” he says, “still, seems like you’re not too bad to be around. Got a job, go to school, all that. Think my dad would love it if I put in half as much effort.” 
“Yeah? You make him sound like a hard ass.” 
“Can be. Lawyer, so kinda his schtick,” he chuckles. 
“Oo, fancy,” you snort. Maybe if either of your parents had been lawyers, you wouldn’t be living off your grandma’s resent.  
“I guess. Never really see him that much...” he grumbles. 
“Hm, well, no winning, is there?” You mutter. 
“Not really,” he sighs and hisses, “ugh, Toad!” 
You chuckle and cross the finish line. A respectable second. You wait for him to finish and stifle a yawn. 
“Tired?” He asks. 
“Little.” 
“Me too, long day,” he groans, “neck’s killing me.” 
“Oh, what’d you do--” 
“You know, I’m-- an idiot. Was messing around on my bike.” 
“Of course,” you snicker, “well, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna sign off. I don’t wanna keep my grandma up and my head’s starting to go.” 
“Sure, I gotta get up early anyway,” he sounds less than enthused. “Good night.” 
“You too.” 
“Tomorrow?” 
“Can’t, work. Day after?” 
“Okay, I’ll make it work,” he confirms, “I’m excited about meeting up. Aren’t you?” 
“Yep,” you try not to show your doubt. You’re still not really sure about everything. 
“Can’t wait,” he rasps and the silt in his tone makes you shiver. 
“Yeah, er, bye then,” you hit end session and take off your headset, your ears tender and a bit sweaty. Even if it is awkward, at least you’ll get to hang with Kara for a bit. You haven’t seen her since grad. 
🎮
You’re already exhausted and you’re not even inside yet. The line for the convention is bustling and your excitement keeps you going as you and Kara gab away and move with the slow crawl. The sun beams down and has you sweating, though you could easily blame that on your nerves too. 
“So, this Jacob... is he cute?” She winks. 
“Kara,” you roll your eyes, “it’s not like that. Really. We just game.” 
“Oh yeah. But do you want it to be more?” She teases. 
“You know I’m not really into all that. I don’t have room for a boyfriend in my life.” 
“So boring. Never change, girlie,” she nudges you playfully. “But really, that’s smart. Calvin is too much. I’m thinking of cutting him loose.” 
“Again?” You squint. 
“Not my fault he keeps coming back,” she giggles. 
You peer around, searching out a familiar face amid the ocean of strangers. You haven’t seen Jacob yet. You’re almost hoping he doesn’t show up. Then again, why wouldn’t he? He paid for you to be here. The reminder of the fact strikes guilt in your chest. 
You pause as your eyes catch another pair, further back in the queue. An older man with a beard. He stands out among the crowd. He wears a tidy button-up where most wear graphic tees or cosplay attire. He stares for a moment before he turns away and looks down, probably at whatever kid dragged him there. 
“Well, what are you going to do if he sees you and falls in love?” Kara asks. 
“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. 
“If he’s a nerd like you, how could he not?” 
“Hey,” you frown. 
“What? You’re like the sexy gamer girl type. Isn’t that what dudes want?” She shrugs. “Let me see his pic again. He’s a skinny little thing. He’d definitely be into you.” 
“Urgh, stop,” you cross your arms. 
“Sorry, I’m only playing. You just seem so nervous, I’m trying to loosen you up.” 
“I know,” you puff, “it’s just... I should’ve just said no. This is stupid. I don’t know why I even agreed.” 
“To get out of that shithole,” she snips. “Why do you think I hauled ass the minute I popped by grad cap on?” 
“Mm, yeah, I just hope... do you think he really wants that? Maybe I gave him the wrong idea. Oh, Kar, I really didn’t mean to lead him on.” 
“No, no, I’m sure it’s nothing you did if he does. I mean, he’s probably a virgin so...” 
“That’s mean,” you pout. 
“What, so are you,” she laughs. 
“Exactly,” you shake your head and drop your arms, a buzz jittering your skirt pocket.  
You look down at yourself as you slide your phone free. That was probably a bold choice but it’s so damn hot out. Besides, your Pikachu tee is loose enough to counteract the denim sheath. You turn the screen up, shading it with your hand as you read. 
‘Sorry, not going to make it. Something came up. 🙁' 
You frown and reread the message. Really? You came all the way here, took time off of work, and he’s flaking? 
“What’s up?” Kara asks as she clicks her manicured nails impatiently and stands on her toes, trying to see past the bodies ahead. 
“He just cancelled,” you mutter and type in your reply. 
‘Oh no. Hope it’s nothing bad. Maybe another time.’ 
You hit send and drop your shoulders. You’re surprised how disappointed you are. More so about the wasted effort than anything. Even if you are a bit relieved, it’s shitty. 
“Ah, bullshit!” Kara sneers, “what the hell? What did he say?” She reaches for your phone and you hold it out of her grasp. “That fucker.” 
“It’s probably not his fault. Shit happens.” 
“Babe, you’re gonna settle for a lot of nonsense if you keep that attitude. I’d be friggin pissed if I was you. He brings you all the way here and now he’s too good for you. I bet he saw some cute girl in line and she smiled at him once so now he’s ditching,” she scowls, “I hate boys.” 
“I’m sure... it’s nothing,” you say glumly as your phone vibes again. 
‘I’m real sorry. I hope you still have a good time. Take lots of pictures.’ 
You don’t respond. You lock your phone and put it back in your pocket. It never feels good to be stood up. Even then. 
“You know what, screw him,” Kara snarls, “let’s go in there and buy you the cutest plushie you can find. Hell, maybe you can find an even cuter guy.” 
“Kar,” you warn her. 
“Fine, just the plushie. Maybe two,” she trills, “forget that loser.” 
🎮
The chaos of the convention wipes away the dark cloud over you. You’re almost thankful that Jacob gave you the opportunity to catch up with Kara. You didn’t realise how much you missed her. It’s perfect day where you can forget about your grandmother and your lame job and everything else. 
You rush around from booth to booth. You look at fanart, handmade figures, and stuffies. You’re mindful of your wallet and how empty it really is. You’ll get one thing and a snack. That’s all you can afford.  
As the hours roll by, your early morning bus ride and time spent standing out in the hot sun catch up to you. You feel your muscles starting to ache and your eyelids turning fuzzy. You yawn as you shuffle behind Kara as she waits in line to get a signature from the one D-list celeb she’s heard of. You’d get one too but it’s way too expensive. 
“Hey,” you rub your cheek, “mind if I sit and wait? I wanna grab a soft pretzel anyway.” 
“Sure,” she agrees easily, “looks like it’s gonna be a while.” 
“Want me to bring you a drink or something?” You offer. 
“Nah, just text me where you are so I can find you,” she says. 
You leave her reluctantly. You’d rather not be wandering alone through the hordes but your feet are killing you and your stomach’s been roaring for the last hour. You stand in line for the pretzel stall and get yours with cinnamon sugar and syrup. Messy but delicious. 
You find a table in the corner and settle in. You put your phone beside the napkin and tear apart the doughy goodness. Your phone lights up with a notification from the merge game you like to play and you see several other icons; missed messages. 
You focus on your snack, savouring each bite, as your eyes drift around the crowded centre. You can barely see some of the booths as hordes cluster around. Some cosplayers bat at each other with toy swords as children fight over the arcade machines. You’re overwhelmed by the sheer amount of activity all around. 
You put your head down trying to block out the lights and noise. You feel yourself getting overstimulated. It’s like when you’re in the lecture hall and suddenly you can hear every sniff, sneeze, and keystroke. You close your eyes as you wipe your fingertips on the edge of the napkin, only half-finished your pretzel. 
“Looks good,” a deep voice cuts through the blaring din. 
As you recognise the timbre, your heart squeezes and the world pinpoints at the centre of your skull. You open your eyes and slowly raise your head. You blink dumbly at the unfamiliar man stood in front of you. You think you’ve seen him before, or at least he sticks out from the typical convention attendee. 
It isn’t that he’s too old, there’s lots of older geeks hanging around but they have neckbeards and greasy combovers. His hair is tidy and his beard trimmed close. His clothing also lacks the typical Dorito dust or anime character. You remember, he was outside in the line. 
“Uh, hello?” You utter. 
“Sorry I’m late,” he says as he pulls out the chair across from you. He sits as your insides plunge. You know his voice. 
“Jacob?” You murmur in shock. How? Why? This isn’t the stringy teenager you met online. 
He nods, his jaw tensing, and he crosses an arm over the table, pointing to your half-eaten pretzel, “what’d you get on yours? I can’t decide between sweet or savoury.” 
“Who... are you?” You croak, head spinning as your eyes prick. You knew something was weird. You knew you weren’t talking to Jacob or whoever that boy was in the pictures. 
He takes a breath and lets it out slowly. As his chest deflates, you do too. He’s older than you, bigger than you, and by the looks of him, a lot better off. Why the hell would he be chatting with you? Why would he lie to you? 
“You’re right. I’m not Jacob,” he confesses, the colour draining from his face. He steeples his fingers and considers his next words carefully. You sit back and hug yourself defensively. This is fucked. “My name is Andy, Jacob is my son.” 
“Your son?” You eke out, “why-- why would you lie?” 
He cringes and takes another breath, “he was my son,” he corrects himself, “he... passed.” 
You feel like you’ve been struck. Your mouth falls open, stunned. Not only did he hide behind his son’s photos, but his dead son’s. Oh, god. You feel sick. No, you feel stupid. 
“Look, please, just hear me out. I just—it wasn’t meant to go on this long. When I first lied to you, it was supposed to be that one time. I was... I was lost. I just lost Jacob and I was going through his things. I started playing because I missed him. I wanted to feel like he was still there--” 
“No, no, you got on discord and you started talking to me. As him!” Your voice shakes and your eyes tinge. “That’s not just missing him.” 
“I know, you’re right. I lied but... I got lonely playing by myself so yes, I went onto that discord. You were nice. You didn’t call me a noob or whatever. And... and after work, looking forward to hearing your voice, it got me through a lot of pain. Being alone in that house after so long, I couldn’t cope--” 
“So you lied to me?” You stand and snatch your phone, nauseous to the core, “you manipulated me. How do you know—if you had just been you that I would’ve been any different? If you just wanted to play games, to be friends--” 
“I was scared--” 
“I don’t care if you were scared,” you hiss as you stomp forward. “You’re an adult.” 
He stands and blocks your path. You recoil, put off by his height. He’s a lot bigger on his feet. 
“Please, move or... I’ll scream,” you breathe. 
“You don’t have to do that. Just hear me out,” he pleads. 
“I don’t want to hear anything else from you, Jacob. Or Andy. Or whoever you really are,” you sneer, “move.” 
He shudders and hangs his head. He makes himself seem small as his shoulders round and he backs out of your way. You bite down and march past him.  
You need to get to a bathroom. Now. You’re going to spew up your guts. More important, you need to get yourself together before you go find Kara. She can’t know this happened. It’s too embarrassing. 
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cheriladycl01 · 2 days
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My love, is mine all mine - Max Verstappen x Norris! Reader x Charles Leclerc Part 6
Plot: Norris' Twin sister is also a driver in the 2021 line up and is in her rookie era. Not only do the commentators struggle to now talk about the pair in the race, but they also struggle to talk about talent. What happens when two drivers find her eye-catching.
A/N: I've brought Luisia into things because of the timeline and it being 2021. Don't hate on her, or the fact that i've brought her into my writing please!
Credit to countingstars-17 for the GIF
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After the shit show of a party, you woke up earlier than everyone else and left the docked boat. You caught the earliest flight back to the UK. You were so pissed with your friends and brother that they’d just up and left you in the club.
The whole flight home, you pondered whether you just really needed to grow up about ever situation in your life.
Lando and the clubbing group leaving you? They were drunk and probably saw you with loads of other people and assumed you were safe and good.
Charles admitting his feelings for you? You arguably needed to focus more on your career that you’d worked so hard for, you didn’t have time for boys and if Charlie really did care for you like he said, he would understand.
Max sleeping or dating your best friend? Good for him, he should be happy.
You needed to not be bitter about all of these minor blips in your life and just get on with it.
Little did you know that this would create a version of you so far from her normal bubbly self that even people who hadn’t spoken to you in years would be able to tell something wasn’t right with you.
Max and Charles had both tried to contact you through texts and phone calls all which had been ignored, you knew it was for the best to just let it all go and leave it at a what could have been. You had responsibilities far greater that you needed to focus on.
When it came to after the summer having left your brother and gone travelling on your own, updating your Instagram and family group chat whenever you managed to get wifi, you were back and raring to go for your home race.
Lando had sent a text to the family group chat asking who would be coming. He wanted to invite Luisa and only had two passes to give out. So that would mean one for Luisa and one for his dad.
Lando - Can you give your paddock passes to mum and Flo, Cisca can’t make it because of Uni
Y/N - Kinda awkward i had someone in mind i wanted to bring :(
Lando - come on its mum and your little sister Y/N don’t be rude and give up your pass to some random dude you met in Bali …
You ignored it, before going to McLaren and begging Zac for a spare paddock pass. You gave your original 2 to your mum and Flo, but your next one went to Nathan Bishop, he was a goalkeeper for Manchester United and you’d met him on a trip you’d been doing in Bali and he immediately knew who you were and you guys got talking and one thing led to another and you were inviting each other to your sports.
In the time you’d travelled he’d became a really good friend and you didn’t feel as lonely as you had since starting in F1. It was really refreshing.
You met him before, driving him to the paddock in your McLaren and pulling up into the Silverstone car park together.
“Thanks for the pass, I’ve never been to a race before so this is actually really exciting for me” he smiles waiting as you grab your bag from the back seat.
“Always welcome!” You grinned back.
“Mmmm and I’m excited to see if you are really as good as you say you are!” He teases elbowing you as you swipe your pass through the paddock scanners.
“Hey! I am a good driver! I got you here safely didn’t I?” You smile and he just nods, you point out various bits of the paddock talking about all the hustle and bustle and all the different teams and the workers running around fitting last minute bits to the motorhomes.
“Oh come on! We need to get you some McLaren team merch!” You grin pulling him to the quiet fan zone thanks to the early time it was and going to the merch stool.
“Hiya! Oh Y/N! How are you?” The worker smiles noticing it’s you.
“Hey! I’m really good! How are you? It’s hot today, make sure you drink lots of water! Radio through and ask for top ups yeah? And don’t forget sun cream!” You chide knowing sometimes the workers forget that they are humans and will push themselves till breaking point!
“Thank you! Really and I’m all good” she says flashing you the large icy bottle of water she had behind the stand with her. “What can I get for you?”
“Any chance we can get the Y/N number hat?” You grin turning to look at Nathan who just rolls his eyes but can’t help the smile that comes into his face.
“Sure! We have lots on stock today, as you know it’s home race! Good luck by the way! I know you’ll do great!” She smiles and hands you the number 42 on the baseball cap. You place it on Nathan’s head who just laughs at your antics but keeps that hat on before paying the lady for it in cash.
“Hey! I was gonna pay for it! I’m the one that got you to buy merch!” You exclaim in horror.
“Mmmm but it’s my hat … so I should pay for it!” He explains with a cat like grin.
“Argh fine come on! I want to show you round the garage and do track walk with you!” You say gently taking his hand and pulling him through the growing numbers of people in the paddock.
You showed him all around the garage and even let him sit in your car which he was really impressed with how low to the ground it felt, and how much the halo restricted vision. After showing him the pit wall and all of the engineers working and running around before free practice you took him out onto the track to do a walk.
The sun wasn’t as harsh anymore and it had started to cloud over a little bit meaning that the track walk wasn’t as strenuous as you anticipated it would be.
You guys walked around talking about the season so far and how it felt being a rookie along with Yuki Tsunoda.
Afterwards it was time for you to have a team meeting and you didn’t want to leave Nathan on his own so you walked him to the hospitality suite to find your parents.
“Mum Dad! Hey this is Nathan! Can you just watch out for him while I’m in the car please!” You ask kindly showing Nathan to a seat with your family.
“Of course sweetheart! Hi Nathan, I’m Adam, this is my wife Cisca” he introduces standing up slightly and leaning forward to shake the younger gentleman’s hand.
“You gonna be okay?” You ask, unsure if you should just bring him to the garage and find him a seat and headphones and leave him there.
“Yeah - I’ll be” he starts only for commotion behind to stop his words.
“Sorry, I’m running late. Oh … whose this?” Lando asks looking over to Nathan, someone he didn’t think would be around his family.
“This is your sisters guest, hence the hat” your mum explained pointing to the hat still on Nathans head.
“Right … yeah I just came here to drop Luisa off. Please look after her and … you know don’t be weird” he begs as Luisa starts to talk to both Flo and Nathan.
“We’re never weird! Now you both have to go get ready!” your dad grins forcing you both away.
You start to walk together to the garage in an awkward silence until Lando breaks it.
“So you brought a boyfriend with you?” Lando scoffs looking towards you.
“And what if I did?” What’s it to you, you brought Luisa!” You say looking to him confused why it was such an issue you’d brought a guy (who wasn’t anything to do with you romantically).
“Because your playing with a lot of hearts here Y/N and it’s not exactly fair. First Charles, then Max, then Charles again and then Max and now this guy? Max and Charles are my friends Y/N and I can’t help but feel like your going to go one step too far and ruin all of this …” he complains and for a second your stunned into silence not knowing what to even say.
“How am I toying with Max and Charles when Max is off with my best friend and Charles … is so hot headed that I don’t know if I can take the heat of him yelling at me for an overtake every race weekend! So how am I the one playing with hearts when it’s feels like mines the only one being toyed with, even by my own fucking brother!” You cried out frustrated with him, but that was Lando. He always spoke before he thought about what he was saying. Both a blessing and a curse.
You started to hurry off no longer wanting to entertain this conversation.
“Y/N wait … I didn’t mean it like that” Lando admits speeding up after you and walking in step with you trying to slow you down.
“We have a meeting to get to. Let’s not waste anymore time” you say coldly, so coldly it actually caused Lando to shiver as he never had heard that tone of voice or anything remotely close come from you.
Briefing for what it was, was pretty boring only talking about the upgrades they’d brought to this weeks Grand Prix. Lando had the full package and you had half, the others to come next week in Hungary.
You were in the garage after changing into your fireproofs, your race suit hanging down off your hips talking to your engineer about strategy for Silverstone, but it was always changeable depending on the track temp and the weather.
FP1 clearly showed Landos new flashy upgrades and how much quicker it made the car placing him in P2 in between Max and Lewis, the two battling it out for the championship this year.
As for you down in 9th you’d just been testing the track and were on different tyres to the top few people, wanting to test out the hards.
As the weekend progressed and the less you concentrated on all of yours issues and just had fun while concentrating on the race weekend you got better. Ending up starting in a decent P6 for the race and getting points in the Sprint that was held earlier on in the day.
“Okay Y/N, it’s looking like Plan B. Reports of rain on the radar for the last half of the race” your engineer says as you pull up into your P6 stop, next to Lando both your Orange McLarens locking out your row.
“Okay, do we have a pit plan?” You ask knowing you were on mediums in hopes they’d last long enough to get you onto Intermediates or Wet if it’s due to rain that badly.
“We’re checking now, looking into stuff with Lando too and seeing what the other teams and looking at doing, but looking like Pit Plan E”
“Yep, copied” he grit out unhappy that they are already prioritising your brother.
“Well Y/N let’s get racing for you first F1 home race! Lecelrc and Bottas in front of you and Lando, Alonso and Vettel behind you and both. And then Max and Hamilton front row” he explains, you knew you had to get a good start to overtake your brother and possibly Charles if there was an opening so as you were driving round the formation lap, you cleared your mind of everything but racing.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount
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mechaknight-98 · 2 days
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Undaunted (NSFW) ft Sejeong
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Author’s note: when I started this piece it was meant to be a fun romp but because Mr. Riordan has tied so much of being a half-blood to being neuro divergent a lot of old wounds invariably brought up and I had a lot to say… more so than usual. So bear with me on this one it’s a long one. 13 k words or so.
I always thought that isolation suited me more than unity or coalitions, believing I could handle anything alone. I've never been more glad to be proven wrong.
Sejeong and I were recent acquaintances. I had been working as a videographer for her entertainment company for four weeks now, spending hours on photo shoots, behind-the-scenes videos, and assisting with music videos and audition tapes. She was bubbly and energetic, a bit much for my taste, but she didn't push me too hard, so I continued working with her. I respected her dedication to her craft—whether acting, modeling, brand ambassadorship or singing—as she always strived to embody each role with utmost dedication. It was inspiring.
At the end of an early day's shoot, she approached me for the first time with genuine interest. Aware that my stern demeanor often kept others at bay, Sejeong boldly asked, "You're Val, right?" I nodded slowly, skepticism palpable. Sejeong smiled warmly and said, "Great, you're coming for coffee with me after this."
Her determined look made it clear that refusal wasn't an option. Before agreeing, I needed to understand her motives.
"Sure, but on one condition," I replied. "You tell me why."
Sejeong tilted her head, maintaining her innocent smile. "Because, silly, we've been working together for months, and I don't even know your name," she said matter-of-factly.
I narrowed my eyes; Sejeong mirrored me, realizing her oversight.
"I barely know yours either," she retorted. "Plus, what if there's an emergency and you need to be found? I think they'll need more information than tall stocky African American man,” Sejeong expanded
Her response eased my skepticism. I followed her to a nearby coffee shop where she remained bubbly and smiling throughout—concerning traits in my experience. People like that were either hiding immense pain or were super evil. As we ordered, she insisted on paying.
"I'm sorry, I just have bad luck when I don't pay for meals," she explained.
I shrugged, "It's no big deal. Plus, this isn't a meal. I got a hot chocolate, and you got coffee."
Sejeong relaxed at my logic. As we sat down, she steepled her hands and asked, "So, tell me about yourself."
This was the first time I took a good look at her, and she was stunning. Despite being a couple of years older, she exuded an aura of ease that made me feel oddly comfortable like I could drop my guard. So, I acquiesced to her prodding.
"Just a normal guy from Cali, I guess. Mom, Dad, and two sisters."
"Oh, are you the oldest, youngest, or middle child?" she inquired.
"I'm in the middle," I responded.
"Cool. I'm the youngest," Sejeong shared. I nodded, surprising her.
"Wait, you know?" she asked, puzzled.
"I did my research before joining the company. Plus, I'm a casual K-pop fan, and you're considered royalty," I explained. Sejeong smiled.
"So, are you a fan of mine too?" she teased.
I shrugged, "I like your acting, but your music isn't my thing."
Realizing too late that I should have been more tactful, I tried to clarify, "Not that it's bad objectively; it's just not my taste."
This only seemed to make it worse, and Sejeong began to pout. "So, you hate my music?" she asked, hurt.
As the situation escalated, I searched for a way to salvage it. Thankfully, a blonde angel came to my rescue.
"Unnie, leave this poor guy alone. Can't you see he's flustered?" Somi intervened as she approached our table. Beside her was a young man in our age range named Ivan. Sejeong turned to Somi, smiling.
"Ah, Somi, can't I have a little fun?" she teased, hugging her friend. Ivan and Somi joined us, and the atmosphere shifted from a business introduction to a casual hangout among friends. Feeling out of place, I listened as Ivan, Somi, and Sejeong chatted and bantered like old friends.
As they talked, a server brought over a plate of food "on the house." While they were engrossed in their conversation, I managed to sneak a few bites, hoping to leave some for them. After ten minutes of rapid Korean dialogue, I excused myself to the restroom. Inside, I splashed water on my face, trying to clear my head.
"When you go back out there, you're going to tell them, 'Hey, something came up, and I have to head home,'" I rehearsed aloud. I failed to notice other occupants in the restroom, but I did hear the telltale rattling of a hydra's tail. Turning back, I found a Lernaean Hydra staring at me.
We locked eyes, and I tried to defuse the situation. "Hey, let's not fight. We can casually cross paths and not kill each other," I proposed, but the hydra lunged at me anyway. I dodged its attack and summoned the "Pyretic Claws of the Storm Beast," slashing at the hydra’s heads until I managed to defeat it. The hydra attempted to regenerate from burning stumps until it finally exploded with a loud "pop," leaving me covered in its guts and slime.
Behind where the hydra stood, Sejeong, Ivan, and Somi stared at me with intrigue.
"You're a demigod, like us," Sejeong declared.
Over the next few days, Sejeong insisted on introducing me to her other demigod friends. These meet-ups usually came with a free meal, so I reluctantly accepted. The friends included two more couples: Levi and Heejin, and Gahyeon and Preston. Levi and Preston were friends of Ivan. I tried to keep my distance both emotionally and physically, but Sejeong always pushed me back into the center. Her reasoning was always along the lines that demigods shouldn’t be alone. Rationally, it made sense; I just didn’t like it. My dad had intentionally raised me away from all of this when my mother left, so I was conflicted. After meeting everyone, we started doing group hangs, the first of which was today.
When we reached the outside of Somi and Ivan’s apartment, I stood frozen. Sejeong noticed and smiled at me.
“Everything alright, Vally?” she asked. I remained silent, prompting her to furrow her brows.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I don’t like this, but I can’t place why. Everything about crossing this threshold makes my skin crawl and makes me want to smash something,” I responded.
Sejeong listened and then asked, “Weren’t you raised around demigods?”
I shook my head. I had met others before but never more than a handful of times. Sejeong’s eyes widened as she listened, prompting her to ask, “Wait, so you’ve survived all this time with no training and no support? Do you even know your godly parent?”
I resisted the urge to scoff. My situation was unique, despite being normal for me, so scoffing at her served no purpose.
“Yes, Seji. My mother claimed me before I went to college and gave me the ‘Claws of the Storm Beast.’ She told me, ‘You’re on your own. I can’t protect you anymore,’” I explained.
Sejeong looked befuddled before asking, “Who the hell is your mom? That sounds terrible.”
I thought about lying but realized it would serve no purpose, so I told the complicated and strange truth. “My mom is Zeus. Long story short, Hera thought a good punishment for his sins would be to live as a woman for a few years. During one of those years, Zeus met my dad, who was separated from his wife, the lady I refer to as my mom, and they had me. She dropped me off with my dad and came back occasionally to chat with him until he reconciled with his wife.”
I watched as Sejeong’s brain broke hearing that. I didn’t blame her; the same thing happened to me when I first heard it.
When she recovered, she asked, “How have you been surviving all this time without being trained? And what is the ‘Fangs of the Storm Dragon’ you mentioned?”
Her response seemed odd to me, but I humored her. “I learned to fight from TV, specifically wrestling and action hero shows. The ‘fangs of the Storm Dragon’ is my weapon, given to me by my mom. It was designed and crafted by my mom with elements from each major betrayer god.”
Sejeong nodded and said, “We are getting you trained as soon as possible.”
I raised an eyebrow, confused as to why Sejeong didn’t respond further, which frustrated me. I had told her all this stuff about me, yet I still didn’t have much information about her. Before she could open the door, I asked about her godly parent and how she survived. She was so taken aback by my story that she was super open about hers.
“My dad is Loki. He claimed me when I was young, but I was already training with other demigods at that point,” she answered.
I nodded at the foreign concepts and feigned understanding of what that was like, yet I remained frozen still.
Sejeong smiled then said, “Tell you what Vally if you come with me right now I'll let you be alone all next week.” I know her words were meant to comfort but they brought a sense of unease within me as I found myself saying,
“No! I like spending time with you…I have grown accustomed to you being around.” I said the rational part of my mind says she still has the potential to be a highly dangerous individual but my emotions presented an intense dichotomy.
Sejeong smiled at me and then said, “If you wanted to date me you could have asked.” she smiled as she watched me short-circuit for a few seconds before opening the door and leading me inside my hand in hers.
The atmosphere in the room is jovial, with friends hanging out and goofing off. It is oddly charming. Sejeong leads me to a spot next to her as we huddle around a hot pot. I take out the Kobe beef and other various meats I brought, along with some veggies and a couple of sushi rolls for palate diversity.
Ivan, Somi’s boyfriend and son of Bacchus, says merrily, “You brought all this for us? Dude, you are the best.”
A smile creeps onto my face. “Well, yeah. Someone has to make sure you don’t poison us with alcohol.”
Sejeong turns to me and cracks a smile. “Oh, was that a joke I heard? I thought Mr. Serious didn’t understand jokes.”
I look at her and reply, “Well, maybe you just aren’t funny?”
Somi, daughter of Aphrodite, laughs, putting me further at ease. Heejin, the daughter of Tsukuyomi laughs too, and stares at me. Not in a particularly menacing or emotionally charged way, but in a very observant way, as if she is trying to figure me out.
Eventually, she asks the question I think she’s been wanting to. “So, Val, who is your godly parent?” The room grows silent. Feeding on the excitement and atmosphere, I reply, “Take a guess.”
Sejeong laughs before telling them that they would never guess it, even with a million hints. I agree but give them the first one.
“She is not who you think it would be.”
Sejeong compliments my hint, saying how good it was as the group begins to guess.
“Morrigan. You kinda radiate her energy as a scary powerhouse,” Levi, son of Tyr says.
I shake my head.
Gahyeon, daughter of Daji, says, “Hmm, well then, my guess is Izanami.”
I shake my head again, surprising everyone. I see Preston, son of Minerva, eyeing me intently.
“It’s your mom, correct?” he asks.
I nod.
“What pantheon?”
“Greek,” I respond.
Preston eyes me, then says, “Huh, you seem way too powerful to be just the son of a Greek goddess. We thought you were stronger than that. Based on how you carry yourself and the static always around you, I’d say Zeus, but that can’t be right.”
At this point, Sejeong loses it. She begins laughing uncontrollably and smiling, making everyone present look at her. Then it clicks.
“Your mom is Zeus,” Somi says. She pauses, then adds, “Yes, we love a girl boss.”
I turn to Sejeong, confused, but she is all smiles.
“How?” Heejin asks, baffled.
“Well, I—” I begin to answer, but time seems to slow down until the air stops. I look around to see everything frozen.
To further emphasize the similarities between Val and Zeus, you can incorporate the following elements into their interaction:
“So, you finally found a home?” an older, feminine voice rang out, instantly recognizable. My fists clenched and my jaw tightened, mirroring the way she used to stand when preparing for a confrontation.
I turned to face my mother. She looked older than the last time I saw her, but still undeniably her: dark skin like mine, long dark brown hair streaked with white, and those piercing gray eyes. Her stance was identical to mine, a stance of readiness and defiance. Everything I hated about myself reflected in me.
“How have you been, DuVal?” she asked, her tone calm yet fierce. It was a voice I had often used to mask my vulnerabilities. I stared in silence, feeling a storm of emotions rise within me. Her gaze held a mix of emotions—bottled rage, the same rage I saw in myself, always simmering just beneath the surface.
“I see you’ve found a home.” Her words were careful, layered with meaning. I kept my guard up, watching her eyes flick from me to Somi, then Heejin, and finally to Sejeong. When her gaze returned to me, it was with a knowing look.
“This one, she’s the one you like,” my mother said confidently.
My fists tightened, my eyes never leaving hers. “Why are you here, Zeus? To remind me of all the times you weren’t?”
She sighed, a mixture of sadness and frustration in her expression. “I know I haven’t been the mother you needed. My actions—or lack of them—have caused you pain. But I’ve always watched over you, DuVal. Always.”
“Watching from a distance isn’t the same as being there,” I retorted, my voice rising. “You left me to fend for myself, to figure out who I am and what I’m supposed to do. And now you just show up, expecting what? Gratitude?”
Her eyes softened. “What was I to do? Beg your father not to break you despite being adamant about making you like everyone else? I don't beg. I told him the ramifications of pursuing ‘rearing for your special needs,’ but he didn't listen. No matter how many teachers and mentors I sent your way, dropping hints about embracing your heritage, he ignored me. Only your mother listened.”
I tensed. “I didn’t agree with my dad on a lot of things, but I believe he did his best.”
“He didn’t know what I was or what it would cost,” I added.
“You believe that? Then why would he root you so deeply in his faith despite having met me and our chats? Why only mention me when he kicked you out? Has he ever apologized for that? If this is about abandonment, he’s as guilty as I am. No, this goes deeper. You hate me because I remind you of all your failed attempts to be normal, despite knowing you’re not. Well, let me be the bigger person and say, ‘I’m sorry I burdened you with such gifts.’”
“Do you expect me to be grateful for this condescending apology?”
“I don’t expect gratitude. I know I don’t deserve it. But you need to understand the weight of your heritage. There are threats on the horizon, and your power is needed.”
I shook my head, the storm inside me brewing. “I’m nothing like you. I don’t want to be.”
“You don’t believe that. I see it in your heart and your eyes. Your appetites are like mine. We share the drive to lead, and to have power. You just refuse yourself. Why not let yourself run wild and let experience temper you? It will be the only way you will learn control.”
Her words brought a splitting headache as my rage and emotions threatened to spill out. Zeus looked to Sejeong and said, “Have you even kissed her yet? Or are you fighting your attraction to her as well?”
Her words were scathing. I thought of a clever comeback, but she was always quicker. “I mean, she is your type—cute face, bubbly personality, sizable assets, and older than you. Why haven’t you made a move?” she prodded.
“Shut up,” I said.
“If you just let yourself be free, you wouldn’t stumble over your words like that.” She bemoaned, “Stop holding back,” she demanded.
She stepped closer, her presence both comforting and overwhelming. “You are more like me than you realize. The strength, the rage, the desire to protect those you care about. It’s all there, DuVal. Embrace it.”
I shook my head defiantly. “Oh really? So you expect me to believe your heart doesn’t ache that she’s not yours. Maybe I should take her.” I broke for a moment, I admit she was pressing all my buttons.
“Touch her and I’ll rip your throat out. She’s mine!” I growled, and my mother was all smiles.
“See how good that felt? I could feel the conviction, the passion, the courage in your words there. Surely it felt good to tell me off, to stake your claim, didn’t it?”
I stood straight and readjusted my posture, and my mother groaned.
The room seemed to pulse with her words, the static in the air intensifying. I glanced at Sejeong, her frozen smile a stark reminder of what was at stake. Could I turn my back on this part of myself?
“I don’t need your help,” I said, though the conviction in my voice wavered.
“Perhaps not,” she replied softly. “But you need to know the truth. The path you’re on is fraught with danger, and you can’t face it alone. Think about it, DuVal. Think about who you want to be.”
I clenched my fists, feeling the energy crackle around me. “I want to be someone different. Someone better.”
“You can be better, DuVal. Better than me. But not by denying who you are. Our power, our drive, it’s a part of us. Channel it, control it, and it will make you stronger. You’ve always had the potential to surpass me, but you have to stop fighting yourself.”
She reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder. The touch was electric, a jolt that sent shivers down my spine. “Embrace the storm within you. Use it to protect those you love. Don’t let fear hold you back.”
I looked into her eyes, seeing a reflection of my struggle. The same determination, the same intensity. “I don’t want to be like you, but I can’t deny what I am.”
“Then don’t deny it. Use it. Be the leader you’re meant to be, not the one you think you should be. Lead with your heart and your passion. It’s not a weakness, it’s your greatest strength.”
I took a deep breath, the storm inside me calming slightly. “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I ask,” she said, her voice softening. “Just remember, you’re not alone in this. You have people who care about you, and who will stand by you. Don’t push them away.”
As she stepped back, I felt a strange sense of relief and a flicker of hope. Maybe I could find a way to balance the storm within me, to use my power for something good. But it would take time, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to fully embrace that part of myself.
“Think about it, DuVal. Think about who you want to be,” she repeated, her eyes locking with mine one last time before she turned and walked away.
I stood there, the static in the air slowly dissipating, and looked at Sejeong. She gave me a reassuring smile,
With that, time resumed. The room filled with laughter and conversation once more, but my mind was a whirlwind of confusion and unresolved emotions. Noticing my change in temperament, Sejeong squeezed my hand, grounding me in the moment. I had a lot to consider, and even more to decide. So I did the thing I knew best.
“I have to go. I just remembered I had something to do,” I said to everyone. Sejeong stood up in front of me as I tried to leave.
“DuVal, what happened? You were cracking jokes and having fun, and now you have to leave. What gives?” The rest of the group surrounded me. Their faces showed concern, but I couldn't tell if it was genuine or not. I tried to get around Sejeong, not realizing at the time that the children of Loki could shapeshift. One moment I was trying to politely get around her, the next I was facing a polar bear. At that moment, I would have rather dealt with Sejeong.
I began to suppress my surging fight response but was failing, as evidenced by the manifestation of "Abyssal Claws of the Storm Beast" in my hands. Realizing her tactics weren’t working, Sejeong did the smartest thing: she shifted back to her normal form and brought me down to her level, hugging me. My heart stilled as the storm inside me began to fade. She tilted my face up from her chest and, with a wicked smile, said, “Feeling better? Or do you need more time cuddling with Samantha and Rachel?” All the tension and emotional turmoil I was processing disappeared at that moment. I stood up and smiled at her. She smiled back before guiding me back to the party.
A few days later, we wrapped filming for a major project, and Sejeong took me back to her place. She booted up her PS5 and started playing FF7 Rebirth. I watched her play but didn’t try to backseat game her. I smiled as she triumphed over a particularly grueling boss in the middle of the game. She looked over to me with a smile, but the fatigue was getting to both of us. I felt my eyes droop and my head fall. The last thing I remembered was her saying, “Omomo.”
I dreamed I was overlooking a vast expanse of sky, the scene cautiously calming. I turned to see my mom. She was smiling, but her presence stirred the emotions I had been burying deep inside. My eye twitched involuntarily.
“Why do you hate yourself so much?” Zeus asked, her voice gentle yet piercing.
“What?” I responded, taken aback.
“You wallow in self-loathing. It’s concerning, yet you hide it well. Why?”
“I don’t understand,” I said, feeling a lump form in my throat.
“Every time we talk, I can see into you, just as you can see into me. I see your hatred of yourself for not being like others, for feeling destined for destruction rather than creation. You wish you could tear yourself apart every day, but you can’t because your body won’t let you. You repress the ferocious, fervent, royal side of you because you’re ashamed of it. Shame others taught you. You are a king. Why do you let them diminish you?”
“That’s a very out-of-touch way to view people,” I retorted, but Zeus wasn’t swayed.
“You and I both know these people don’t want to lead themselves. They want a wise and tested leader to guide them, to make the hard choices so they can live freely and safely. So what are they if not peasants?”
Her words hit me harder than I expected. I wasn’t ready for this confrontation.
“Oh, you weren’t expecting your mother to challenge you like this, were you? Well, buckle up. This is just the beginning. You endure these miserable and intolerable creatures who engage with you as if they’re your equals and bear their injustices, yet wonder why they don’t accept you. No matter how much you defang and claw yourself, the truth remains: you aren’t like them. They know it and will continue to remind you of that fact. So why bother with them?”
“Because a true leader…” I began, but Zeus cut me off.
“A true leader leads ahead of the pack, where it is the loneliest. Stop acting like one of them. You’re better than them. You and that girl are better than this. You should be running the world together. That much is certain.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, frustration boiling over.
“Because you crave validation from sources that can’t give you the praise you seek. These people are not your peers, no matter how much you want them to be. So stand proud and ferocious. Let your rage and power out. Stop holding back because others can’t see your intentions. Let your desires guide you, not your mind. Your mind will only blind you, telling you who you need to be to survive, not who you are meant to be to thrive.”
I sat there, feeling competing desires rise within me, a storm of emotions I’d been trying to suppress.
“Don’t shame yourself for what you want. Want it, Chase it, but don't meander with the sheep it will only weaken you.”
I stared at my mother, her words slicing through the barriers I had meticulously built around my heart. The storm within me raged, conflicting desires crashing like thunder and lightning. I felt the familiar pull of shame, but also a strange, burgeoning sense of clarity.
“Mom, it’s not that simple,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “I can’t just embrace this…this side of me. It’s dangerous. It’s destructive.”
Zeus’ expression softened, but her eyes remained fierce. “Dangerous? Destructive? DuVal, you are my son. You carry the tempest within you, but you also hold the power to control it. You are not just a force of destruction; you are a beacon of potential, of leadership, of hope.”
I shook my head, the weight of her expectations pressing down on me. “You don’t understand. I don’t want to be a monster. I don’t want to hurt people.”
“And you won’t,” she replied firmly. “You have the heart of a protector. But denying your true nature only weakens you, and makes you vulnerable. You need to find balance, to harness your power without letting it consume you.”
I took a deep breath, feeling the air crackle with the tension of my emotions. “How? How do I do that?”
Zeus stepped closer, her presence overwhelming yet comforting. “By accepting who you are, all of who you are. You are both human and divine. Embrace your heritage, not as a burden, but as a gift. Let those you care about see the real you, not the mask you wear to hide your fears.”
I felt a tear slip down my cheek, mingling with the faint sparks of static. “But what if they reject me? What if they can’t handle it?”
She gently wiped the tear away, her touch warm and grounding. “True friends, true allies, will stand by you, no matter what. And those who don’t? They were never meant to be part of your journey.”
I closed my eyes, letting her words sink in. The storm within me began to calm, not because it was gone, but because I was starting to accept it as a part of me. “I’ll try, Mom. I’ll try to be who I’m meant to be.”
Zeus smiled a rare, genuine smile that filled me with a sense of hope. “That’s all I ask. Remember, you are not alone in this. We are connected, you and I. And there is strength in that connection.”
As her image began to fade, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. The dream dissolved, and I woke up in Sejeong’s apartment. The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room.
Sejeong was still asleep, her face serene. I watched her for a moment, feeling a surge of affection and gratitude. She had seen a glimpse of my true self and hadn’t turned away. Maybe, just maybe, I could learn to embrace all parts of myself and find the balance I so desperately needed.
Carefully, I slipped out of bed and made my way to the window. (unsure how I got there from the couch) The sky was clear, a soft blue expanse stretching out before me. For the first time in a long while, I felt a spark of hope, a flicker of possibility. I didn’t have all the answers, but I had a direction, and a path to follow.
The decision to be honest with those who mattered most felt like a heavy weight lifting from my shoulders. I returned to Sejeong, lying peacefully in her sleep. Despite her serene appearance, she began to shuffle uncomfortably, her hand reaching out as if searching for something. On instinct, I took her hand, and the frown that had creased her face melted back into her typical smile.
I stayed with her like that for a while, watching her breathe and feeling the warmth of her hand in mine. When she finally woke, her eyes met mine with a clarity that took my breath away.
“Sejeong,” I said softly, my heart pounding.
“Yeah, Val?” she responded, her voice still thick with sleep.
“I like you,” I confessed, the words tumbling out with a mix of anxiety and relief.
Sejeong’s lips curved into a playful smile. “Well, are you going to do something about it?”
Without hesitating, I cupped her cheeks in my hands and kissed her. Her lips tasted faintly of the spicy ramen we’d shared earlier, a perfect mix of heat and comfort. As our kiss deepened, my mind began to blank out, and all I could focus on was the insatiable desire coursing through me.
Her hands moved to my shoulders, pulling me closer. The intensity of the moment seemed to charge the air around us. Static electricity crackled, making the tiny hairs on my arms stand on end. Sejeong’s touch was grounding, pulling me back even as my emotions threatened to overwhelm me.
When we finally pulled apart, her eyes were bright, a mix of amusement and something deeper. “That’s more like it,” she teased, her fingers tracing the lines of my jaw.
I smiled, feeling lighter than I had in days. “There’s so much I need to tell you, Sejeong. About my mother, about what’s coming. But right now, I just wanted you to know how I feel.”
She nodded, her expression turning serious. “We’ll face whatever comes together, Val. But you don’t have to carry everything on your own. I’m here with you, every step of the way.”
Her words settled something inside me, a reassurance that I wasn’t alone. We stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the world outside continued to turn. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Sejeong smiles, but right now I think I need a bit more of your affection.
Sejeong’s eyes narrow as she brings me in for another kiss.
“Don’t think,” she said and my brain cleared of all thoughts the only thing that remained was lust and affection for her in the moment. She gave me a sexy and sultry look that made me want to see how far I could bury my dick into any of her holes. She goes in for another kiss then says, “Come on Val bare your fangs . Hunt! Let it all just this once,” she said instead of fighting my instincts and urges I run with them I tear into Sejeong’s hoodie and eventually we stand naked in front of each other.
I marvel at her bush. Which causes her to be uncharacteristically shy. When she tries to hide though I spread her legs open and plunge my dick inside of her pussy. Sejeong moans as I spear her, her eyes look up to mine and she smiles, “take me,” she implores me. I begin to thrust gently in and out of her. Hoping to find a tempo she likes. I emphasized slow and deep strokes as she seemed to like when I touched her womb. Her pussy envelops me with the most pleasant feeling of tightness that I can’t help but continue pleasing her. I watch as she comes undone from the pressure and she reaches her peak.
She moans and then looks up at me with a wild look in her eyes before pushing me to be under her. She begins to bounce on my rod with the fury of ten suns.
“Yes, Yes, fuck yes,” she moans as I feel her walls tighten to milk me for all I’m worth. The longer I last the more ferocious she becomes and eventually I lose to her and she has me cum all over her tits. She smiles before taking a long lurid lick and saying, “Delicious,”
The next day, I woke up in a muddled haze that cleared slightly when I saw Sejeong sleeping comfortably beside me. She looked serene, and I smiled, realizing just how much I loved her. That intense feeling was one of the many things my father had said we shared: the capacity to feel deeply.
As if sensing my thoughts, Sejeong turned to me with a bright smile. "Morning, handsome," she said. Her bright eyes looked into mine, and she leaned in to kiss me. I followed her lead, savoring the moment. "Okay, time to get up," she said.
"Okay," I responded. We got ready, and I made her coffee just the way she liked it. We watched the sunrise from a bench near Sejeong's apartment, and as the dawn broke, I felt a familiar presence.
I turned to see my mother approaching slowly but with intent. When she came into view, she appraised Sejeong and me. Sejeong looked at Zeus, then at me, and said, "I see the resemblance. That steely gaze, the commanding aura. You must be Zeus, although last time we met, you looked a little different."
Zeus looked at Sejeong, confused. "Daughter of Loki? How so?"
Sejeong laughed. "Oh, so that way of speaking is genetic. Well, Queen of the Skies, you had less of this," she pointed to her chest, "and you had something between your legs."
My mom looked up, and Sejeong laughed again. "Wow, Val got a lot from you," Sejeong chuckled. I turned to her, and she explained, "When you recollect Zeus, you look away as your mind goes over the memory."
I laughed. "Are you enjoying this?"
"Oh yes. I love seeing my boyfriend puzzled. He just has the cutest focused face."
"Boyfriend?"
"You're surprised? You've been at my beck and call for the past few weeks, and we've gone on three dates. We are boyfriend and girlfriend," Sejeong asserted. I gave a worried look.
"Am I that readable?"
"Not at first glance, but after seeing your heart and all your quirks, I've thumbed through your book a few times."
I groaned, making Sejeong laugh. "Come on, Vally, just accept it."
When she said that, Zeus chuckled. "You remind me of Val's father with that."
I turned to her, on guard. Sejeong noticed and squeezed my hand to calm me down.
"What do you mean?" Sejeong asked for me.
"Well, the playful teasing and compassion, for starters. But this makes me realize, Val," Zeus chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement and pride. "You know, our taste in partners is remarkably similar. I see so much of what I admire in Sejeong. She's strong, yet kind. Fiercely independent but deeply loyal. Just like your father."
I clenched my fist, my mom's praise for my father hitting a nerve. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't hold back. "If he was so great, then why did you leave him and me?" The sky darkened lightly at my comment. Zeus's intense glare bore into my eyes, but I didn't back down.
Zeus sighed, sitting down next to us. "It's complicated, Val. Your father and I... we had different paths, different destinies."
Sejeong, sensing the importance of the conversation, moved closer, her hand finding mine for support. Zeus noticed the gesture and smiled faintly.
"Your father was a good man, Val. Strong, principled, but also... mortal. Our worlds were too different. As a god, I have responsibilities and burdens he could never fully understand or share. And I could never be the partner he needed because of those obligations."
I frowned, trying to piece together the fragments of my childhood memories. "But you loved him, right? Why wasn't that enough?"
Zeus nodded, her eyes softening with a hint of sadness. "Love is powerful, but it's not always enough to bridge such vast differences. Our relationship put him in danger and exposed him to things no mortal should endure. And as much as I loved him, I couldn't let my presence continue to put him at risk. It wasn't fair to him, or you."
My jaw tightened, but I didn't interrupt. Sejeong squeezed my hand gently, offering silent support.
"I had to make a choice," Zeus continued, her voice heavy with the weight of her words. "I chose to protect him by leaving, hoping it would allow him to live a safer, more stable life. It was one of the hardest decisions I've ever made, but I believed it was the right one."
"Much like you with that Ishtar priestess. Speaking of, how did the curse turn out?" Zeus asked.
"It's been removed, thanks," I responded coldly. Zeus laughed.
"Good," she said with a smile. Sejeong, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. "It's clear that your father loved you both, Val. But sometimes, love means making sacrifices for the greater good, even if it hurts."
I turned to Sejeong, her words resonating deeply. Then I looked back at Zeus, a sense of resolution beginning to form. "I understand now. It doesn't make it any less painful, but I get why you did what you did."
Zeus reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Thank you, Val. And remember, even though I had to leave, I never stopped caring about you. I never stopped watching over you."
“So, this is the famous Sejeong,” Zeus said, her voice carrying that familiar mix of calm and intensity. Sejeong looked up, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of Zeus. I could see her assessing my mother, taking in the same dark skin, the long brown hair streaked with white, and those piercing gray eyes that seemed to see right through you.
“Yes, and you must be Zeus,” Sejeong replied, her voice steady but her eyes flickering with curiosity and something akin to recognition.
Zeus smiled, a small, knowing smile that sent a chill down my spine. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the woman who’s managed to capture my son’s heart.”
Sejeong glanced at me, then back at Zeus. “The pleasure is mine. I’ve heard… a lot about you.”
“I’m sure you have,” Zeus said, her gaze shifting to me. “DuVal has always been quite the storyteller.”
I could see Sejeong studying us both, her eyes darting between Zeus and me. She had a keen eye for detail, and I knew she was picking up on the similarities—the way we both stood with a certain tension, the way our eyes could pierce through someone’s defenses, the way our voices carried a similar weight.
“You two move the same way,” Sejeong observed, her tone curious. “It’s like watching a reflection.”
Zeus chuckled softly. “Well, he is my son. Some things are bound to be inherited.”
Sejeong nodded, but her eyes narrowed slightly as she continued to watch us. “But there are differences too. Val is… softer, I think. More willing to show his vulnerabilities.”
Zeus’s smile faded slightly. “Is that so? I always thought strength came from hiding one’s weaknesses.”
Sejeong shook her head. “No, I believe true strength comes from embracing them. From being honest about who you are.”
Zeus looked at Sejeong with a new level of respect. “You’re wise beyond your years, Sejeong. Perhaps you’re the influence DuVal needs.”
Sejeong smiled a warm and genuine smile that seemed to light up the porch. “Maybe we’re what each other needs.”
I felt a swell of pride at Sejeong’s words, but also a pang of something else—fear, perhaps, that she would see too much of Zeus in me.
Zeus stepped closer, her eyes fixed on Sejeong. “Tell me, Sejeong, what do you see when you look at DuVal?”
Sejeong didn’t hesitate. “I see someone who’s struggled, who’s faced immense challenges, but who’s still kind and caring. Someone who’s trying to find his place in the world.”
Zeus nodded slowly. “And do you see the same in me?”
Sejeong paused, her eyes thoughtful. “I see someone who’s powerful, but who’s perhaps forgotten what it’s like to be vulnerable. Someone who’s built walls to protect themselves.”
Zeus’s gaze softened for a moment, a rare display of vulnerability. “You’re very perceptive, Sejeong. DuVal is lucky to have you.”
Sejeong smiled again. “And he’s lucky to have you, too. Even if he doesn’t always see it that way.”
I looked at Zeus, seeing a flicker of something in her eyes—pride, maybe, or a hint of the love she rarely showed. It was a fleeting moment, but it was enough to give me hope.
Zeus smiled faintly, her gaze lingering on Sejeong. “You have your father’s eyes, but your mother’s spirit.”
Sejeong tilted her head slightly, a question in her eyes. “You knew my father?”
“Oh yes,” Zeus chuckled softly, “I’ve known Loki for eons. He’s quite the trickster, your father. Always up to some mischief or another.”
Sejeong raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on her lips. “And how do I compare?”
Zeus studied Sejeong for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. “You are different from Loki in many ways. He revels in chaos and thrives on unpredictability. You, on the other hand, bring a sense of stability and clarity.”
Sejeong nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose I inherited my mother’s influence. She valued honesty and integrity above all else.”
“That balance serves you well,” Zeus noted, a hint of approval in her voice. “Loki may be a master of illusions, but you see through them. That’s a rare gift.”
Sejeong smiled warmly, a genuine expression that softened the tension between them. “Thank you. I try to use it wisely.”
Zeus nodded, her gaze shifting to me. “And DuVal? How does Sejeong influence you?”
I glanced at Sejeong, feeling a swell of pride and admiration. “She… grounds me. She sees through my walls and challenges me to be better.”
Zeus’s eyes softened, a hint of maternal pride flickering across her features. “You’ve chosen well, DuVal.”
Sejeong looked between us, sensing the unspoken history and emotions. “There’s a lot you two share,” she remarked softly. “But there are also differences.”
“Yes,” Zeus agreed, her gaze returning to Sejeong. “You are a blend of both worlds, Sejeong. Your father’s mischief tempered by your mother’s wisdom. It’s a potent combination.”
Sejeong smiled gratefully, acknowledging the complexity of her heritage. “I’ve learned to embrace both sides. It’s what makes me who I am.”
Zeus nodded and got up. she turned to us and asked, "So what's next for you two love birds?"
"I am taking my feral boyfriend to Camp Half-blood to hopefully make him less feral,"
"Good luck He's worse than Heracles in that regard."
"it will be fine."
True to her word, four days later I was flying back to the States with Sejeong to help with counseling at the camp. The camp had grown tenfold, now housing a myriad of pantheons and incorporating their various practices and traditions. We arrived a few days early, along with the rest of our half-blood friends.
On the taxi ride from the airport to camp, Levi leaned over and warned me, “So, um, we might have spilled the beans about you coming with us, and, uh... well, the Huntresses are coming because Thalia wants to meet her ‘little brother.’ I know you aren’t comfortable with the spotlight, so I figured you should know.”
Sejeong groaned. “I told you all not to tell anyone. I wanted only Chiron to know to avoid the circus.”
“To be fair, we told everyone he was coming before you told us not to,” Somi pointed out.
“I told you all not to do it in the same call,” Sejeong said, exasperated.
“Yes, but it was 5 minutes, 54 seconds, and 32 microseconds later. I had already told my entire cabin by that point,” Heejin replied.
Sejeong rolled her eyes, annoyed at her friends' lack of restraint.
When we got to camp, I noticed an immediate change in my attitude, posture, and temperament. I felt an overwhelming hostility. Sejeong picked up on this and squeezed my hand, hoping to calm me. Instead, it only intensified the rising desire I had for her. I managed to squeak out, “Seji I don’t like this place it gives me weird vibes.,” Sejeong nodded and then said
“It will be okay Vally we’ll get through this one day at a time.” As we enter the camp there is a huge crowd waiting for us. I can feel the gazes and hushed whispers as we pass through. The first to approach us was a dark-haired green-eyed young man a little older than me, and a blonde-haired girl with piercing gray eyes who walked with him.
“Hi, I’m Percy Jackson,” the dark-haired man said, “this is Annabeth Chase.” Sejeong walks over to Percy and Annabeth to give them a big hug. Percy and Annabeth happily received the hug before saying to Sejeong, “Long time no see,” Sejeong nodded before mentioning how she had become quite famous. Percy and Annabeth seemed proud and pleased by this. They looked behind Sejeong where I stood,
“You must be Duval,” Annabeth said. I nod and she laughs
“You don’t look much like Zeus,” Percy says bluntly. I chuckled before responding
“Well can’t control that,” I responded Percy and Annabeth laughed before leading me to the Councilor’s cabin. When we get inside they lead me to the room and bed I’ll be in for the next few weeks.
After I set my stuff down I headed outside to hang out with Sejeong. I noticed quite a few of the crowd were still following, which made me more uncomfortable, but Sejeong shooed them away. As we approached the Loki cabin, its unique design became more pronounced. Twisting vines intertwined with intricate carvings of mythical creatures adorned the wooden structure, giving it an air of mystery and whimsy. Sejeong knocked on the door, and we waited for a response. The sounds of laughter and chatter could be heard from within.
The door creaked open, and Asumi stood there with a bright smile. "Sejeong! It's so good to see you!"
Sejeong stepped forward, embracing her half-sister warmly. "Asumi! I've missed you. How have you been?"
Asumi stepped back, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Come in, come in! We have so much to catch up on."
I followed them into the cabin, feeling slightly out of place but curious. The interior was just as eclectic as the exterior, with colorful tapestries, mismatched furniture, and an assortment of trinkets and oddities scattered about. It was a lively space, reflecting the playful nature of its inhabitants.
Sejeong and Asumi settled onto a worn but comfortable-looking couch, and I hovered nearby, unsure of where to sit. I decided to perch on the edge of a nearby armchair, trying not to intrude too much.
"So, what's the latest gossip?" Sejeong asked, her eyes sparkling with interest.
Asumi leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Well, you won't believe what happened last week. Marcus from the Hermes cabin pulled the most epic prank on the Ares campers. He switched all their weapons with rubber replicas. The look on their faces when they tried to practice was priceless!"
Sejeong laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Classic Marcus. What else?"
Asumi glanced at me briefly, then continued, "And then there’s been talk about the new arrivals. Everyone’s buzzing about a certain son of Zeus who's causing quite a stir."
I felt my cheeks heat up, and I looked down at my hands, pretending to be fascinated by a loose thread on my shirt. Sejeong reached over and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.
"Yeah, that's DuVal," Sejeong said, glancing at me with a smile. "He's been handling the attention pretty well, all things considered."
Asumi's gaze softened as she looked at me again. "Well, it's not every day we get someone like you here. It's a lot to take in, I bet."
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Just trying to find my way, you know?"
Sejeong and Asumi continued their conversation, discussing various camp activities and the latest drama among the campers. I listened attentively, occasionally chiming in when they mentioned someone I had met or an event I had attended. Despite feeling like a bit of an outsider, I found myself enjoying the lively banter and the sense of camaraderie between the sisters.
As the afternoon wore on, more campers filtered in and out of the cabin, each one stopping to say hello and share a laugh. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, and I started to relax, feeling more like part of the group.
At one point, Asumi excused herself to grab some snacks from the kitchen, leaving Sejeong and me alone for a moment. Sejeong leaned closer, her voice low. "Are you okay? I know this is a lot."
I nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. "I'm good. It’s nice to see you with your family. You seem so happy."
Sejeong's eyes softened. "I am. And I want you to feel welcome here too."
Before I could respond, Asumi returned with a tray of cookies and drinks. "Here we go! Help yourselves."
We spent the next hour chatting, munching on cookies, and sipping on lemonade. The initial awkwardness I had felt began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of belonging. Asumi was genuinely kind and welcoming, and I appreciated how she made an effort to include me in their conversation.
Eventually, it was time to head back. As we stood to leave, Asumi gave me a warm hug. "It was great to meet you, DuVal. Don't be a stranger, okay?"
I returned the hug, feeling a bit more at ease. "Thanks, Asumi. I'll be back."
Sejeong and I got ready to leave the cabin, as we were walking back towards the door. She looked up at me, a satisfied smile on her face. "See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?"
I shook my head, smiling. "No, it was nice. Your sister’s great. Thanks for bringing me along."
Sejeong slipped her arm through mine, and as we were about to leave, I heard a familiar voice screech out, "DuVal?"
My face landed directly into my palm as I hoped that the voice wasn't who I thought it was. I turned around to see Cassandra—my ex-girlfriend, daughter of Loki, and Exalted of Ishtar. She looked at me with disdain, but with Sejeong here, she tried to mediate.
"Oh, you know Val?" Sejeong asked Cassandra, surprised.
"Know him? I used to date this motherfucker," Cassandra said lividly.
I shrugged, trying to remain nonchalant, though I could feel the tension in the air.
"Don't you shrug at me like you didn't do anything! We were together for two years, and you left me when it got hard."
I chose my next words extremely carefully so I didn't set her off. "Cassie, we were emotionally abusive to each other, by your admission. You kept pushing me away. I got tired of it and lashed out. I felt bad, I apologized, and do you remember what you said?"
"Don't you dare bring that up! It's not my fault you didn't remember correctly."
"See, you say that, but...you know what? Forget it. I don't care anymore. Let's go back to ignoring each other," I replied.
Cassandra slapped me, and I held my tongue. Fighting the urge to retaliate, I turned to leave the cabin.
"That's it, run away like you always do," was the last thing I heard.
I tried to be the bigger person. Please believe me when I say that.
"I can't believe I cared so deeply for something so pitiful," I muttered, looking at her with a mix of disdain and apathy. It all hit me at once—the hurt, the anger, the realization of how toxic our relationship had been. Sure, we had some good times, but as we got closer, she pushed me further away.
I walked out of the cabin into the afternoon, where it was sprinkling. The gentle rain was oddly soothing as I tried to put as much distance as possible between Cassandra and me. I could hear Sejeong yell something from the cabin, then slam the door before chasing after me. She was visibly shaken by whatever had happened. When she caught up to me, she said, "Tell me what happened. All of it."
So I did. I told her how we met in college, bonded over shared trauma, and how we fell apart after I transferred. I explained how our relationship began to deteriorate, how Cassandra's indecision and emotional turmoil led to every relationship of hers degrading over time, and how every boy she got entangled with ended up hating her. I didn't, though. I felt bad until I just didn't feel anything anymore. The only thing that hurt was the good memories we had, but even those had faded.
I made sure not to paint myself as just the good guy. I was honest about how I was a significant part of the reason it fell apart. I had my faults and failings.
Sejeong looked at me intensely, seeing me for the flawed person I was. She hesitated, then said, "I am going to need some time to process this. Can I talk to you later?"
I nodded, and she gave me a small smile before walking away.
I watched her retreating figure, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety. The rain had picked up slightly, each drop feeling like a small pinprick against my skin. I walked aimlessly, trying to clear my head.
Eventually, I found myself at the edge of a small grove, the canopy of trees offering some shelter from the rain. I sat on a fallen log, replaying the confrontation with Cassandra over and over in my mind. The bitterness in her voice, the sting of her slap—it all felt too fresh, too raw.
As I sat there, I couldn't help but reflect on the cycles of pain and anger that seemed to define my past relationships. Cassandra was a stark reminder of a time when I was lost, unsure of myself, and reactive. But now, with Sejeong, I wanted something different. I wanted to be better. I skipped Lunch and Dinner as I sat there trying to get back to my calm but I just couldn't do it. while I go over my time with Cassandra I remember Zeus and my dad both saying before I got entangled with her that she was bad news.
Hunger got the best of me, so I headed to the mess hall for dinner. On the way back, I grabbed my cap to hide my face, not wanting to draw any more attention. Once inside, I found a quiet corner away from prying eyes and sat down. Following the rituals of all the other campers, I began to eat, enjoying the rare moment of silence.
That was until someone approached me. I looked up to see a stunning Native American young woman with the coolest green eyes I had ever seen.
"You're a new face," she said politely.
I chuckled and replied, "I guess that's correct. DuVal, but my friends call me Val, and we are friends now."
The young lady smiled. "Val... I like it. The name's Piper." Piper reached out her hand. I took it and shook it. She smiled again before sitting next to me.
"You know, you don't look like a child of Zeus," she observed.
I chuckled. "Well, Zeus was very different when she was my mom."
"Oh, Zeus is your mom. That's wild, but I kind of see it."
"What do you mean?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"Well, I used to date Jason Grace before he died a few years back," Piper said, her face growing somber.
I gulped uneasily until Piper smiled. "Ah, don't worry about it. It's not your fault. You didn't know," she said reassuringly.
I shrugged, and Piper laughed before asking, "Not a big talker, eh?"
I nodded. "Fair enough," she said, looking down at my hands and then back at my face. "Are you okay? Your hands are trembling."
I looked down and noticed she was right. "A little nervous is all," I replied, my voice shaking as I heard the whispers around me.
"It's him. The Orphan. The Child of Zeus. Where's Sejeong? Why is he all alone? Why is he so quiet?" The whispers were quickly silenced when I stood up to leave. As I did, I accidentally bumped into Thalia. The remains of my food spilled all over her, and she looked up at me. When our eyes met, we both recognized each other.
"Oh, you," she said. I held my tongue.
"So, you're the big shot everyone is talking about."
"I am so sorry. I'll get something to clean that right up," I stammered.
Thalia looked at me with a focused expression. "No, it's fine," she said, though it didn't seem like it. "Come on, sit with me and the Huntresses. I want to meet my new 'little brother.'"
My mind raced as I found myself stuck between a rock and a hard place. Reluctantly, I sat down with Thalia. The Huntresses eyed me curiously as I put my hands down by my legs to stop them from shaking.
"So, tell me about yourself. I've only heard bits and pieces," Thalia said.
"Um, I do photography and videography," I replied.
"Oh, okay. And how long have you known you were a half-blood or that there were others like us?"
"Uh... I knew since I graduated high school a few years ago, but I didn't know about this community until deep into the pandemic when I was constantly hounded by monsters," I explained.
Thalia furrowed her brow. "Is everything okay, brother? You seem uncomfortable."
"I... I don't know. I don't belong here," I said, standing up to leave.
"Sit. We aren't done," Thalia said firmly. Her Huntress friends surrounded me, so I sat back down.
"What's wrong? What's got you so shaken?" Thalia asked, her tone softening. Despite her warning, I attempted to excuse myself again. This time, lightning struck in front of me, and the rest of the camp faded away. I turned back to see my mother, Zeus, staring back at me.
“Why are you running?” she asked pointedly.
“My children don’t run away,” she accused.
“Yes, we do. Jason ran from Piper, Thalia ran away from you, and you ran from every responsibility you didn’t want,” I retorted.
Zeus's eyes glared at me, but I wasn’t going to cower.
“I hide and run from everyone because deep down I know no one will truly like me or understand me. That’s the burden of power and knowledge. When you truly have agency and the strength to make wise choices, people resent you. The cowardly judge you and I’m sick of hiding behind a handicap. I’m sick of reducing myself so others can feel at peace.”
Zeus looked at me, surprised. “I never knew you felt that way.”
“Please, I’m your son. I want everything I can grasp and things I can’t, but my father taught me restraint and control. Do you know what it’s like to have the fathomless desire to take anything you want but need the wisdom to know why you can’t? The part of you that’s inside me wants everything under the sky as mine but the human part of me holds me back and I’m sick of fighting myself, but I can’t because the world is too small..”
Zeus looked at me with wide eyes, “so what are you going to do about it?”
“Let the part of you that’s inside of me out and take what I want,” I said.
Zeus' eyes narrowed as she stared into mine and she asked, “What do you want now,”
“To not be bothered,” I said, and as I finished talking the camp faded back into the light and I realized that everyone was staring at me. I figured they must have seen that whole exchange based on their expressions. I roll my eyes and then go to leave when Thalia stops me this time by throwing her javelin. I sigh and then she says,
“Please stay. I just want to talk,” the punk-like edge she had in her voice was gone and was replaced by a genuine feeling of concern. I sigh and say,
“Can we do it elsewhere without so many eyes?” Thalia looks to the rest of her huntresses and they nod so she nods back to me. I nod back and we agree to meet at one of the hills privately after dinner.
I go to our designated meeting area after leaving the mess hall, and wonder why I had that vision with Zeus earlier. She had to have known why I was like this right? I think to myself. A few moments later. Thalia comes from the bushes and smiles at me. I give her a thumbs up and she sits next to me.
“Crazy right?” She says breaking the silence. I nod and say
“Look I’m sorry for my outburst earlier I've just been in a bad headspace since I got here,”
“No, I get it. the scrutiny everyone has with watching you hoping you mess up I completely understand. Jason, Percy, me, and now you all feel it,” Thalia said contemplating.
“I just wish I could create some space where I could be me and not stand out ya know?” I responded somberly. Thalia nodded and eventually responded
“You remind me a lot of Jason. You are more reserved like he was but also I sense a hesitance in your presence that he never walked with. It's interesting,” she said. I smiled as we sat looking up at the stars silently just enjoying the time. Eventually, we go our separate ways and I turn in for the night.
After lunch, I found myself alone. The crowds that had been trailing me since my arrival had finally dispersed, and my friends were all busy catching up with their own family and friends. Thalia wouldn’t be arriving until tonight, so I couldn't meet her just yet. With time on my hands, I decided to explore the camp to get a better feel for it.
My wandering eventually led me to a secluded waterfall area. The serene sound of rushing water was a welcome contrast to the bustling camp. The air was cool and misty, and the sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground. I could sense the presence of others nearby, but no one approached me. I was content with the solitude until a feminine voice broke through the tranquil sound of the waterfall.
“You know it’s dangerous to be this far out alone. Anyone could do bad things to you.” The voice was calm yet carried an underlying authority.
I turned to see an older woman standing a few feet away. Her gaze was strikingly similar to Zeus's but carried a more "maternal" quality. Her presence was commanding yet oddly comforting.
“I like to think that I don’t invite that type of challenge,” I replied, meeting her gaze. “I try to put good in the world and hope to get good back.”
Her expression softened at my words. “I’ve never known a child of Zeus to be so introspective.”
“Well, not all of us can be reckless heroes like Jason, Perseus, Heracles, or the legendary Thalia,” I said with a hint of a smile, feeling a bit more at ease.
The woman’s gaze focused on me, her eyes searching. “Something tells me that’s not your style.”
I nodded. “Nope. I’d much rather enact a strategy that guarantees victory with minimal collateral damage. Huge battles usually mean no one truly wins.”
She smiled, a genuine warmth radiating from her. “May I see?” she asked, pointing to the camera hanging around my neck.
I shrugged and handed it to her. She carefully examined the photos, her eyes lighting up with appreciation. “You have quite the eye for capturing life in motion.”
I couldn’t help but grin with pride. “Thank you, Hera.”
Hera looked up at me, pleasantly surprised. “Hm, you’re smarter than you look,” she admitted, the atmosphere around her shifting from intense to gentle.
“I try my best,” I replied modestly.
“You’ve surprised me, DuVal. I thought you’d be like the rest of my husband’s children, but you’re not. Stay that way; it will serve you well.”
“Thank you,” I said, genuinely touched by her words. “I intend to.”
Hera handed back my camera and sat beside me on the rock, the sound of the waterfall creating a soothing backdrop. “Tell me, DuVal, what drives you? What makes you different?”
I took a moment to gather my thoughts, the roar of the waterfall filling the silence. “I think it’s the understanding that power isn’t just about strength. It’s about knowing when to use it and when to hold back. It’s about empathy and restraint.”
Hera nodded, a thoughtful look in her eyes. “A child of Zeus practicing restraint? You are truly an anomaly, DuVal. You remind me of the best parts of Zeus. His intelligence, his strategic mind... but you also have something more. A kindness, perhaps. Why is it that you share these qualities and the others don’t?”
I looked at her, trying to read the emotions behind her words. “I don’t know. For me, I’ve always been like this. Blame Ultraman, I guess. I appreciate the kind words, though. It’s been an interesting time these last few weeks reconciling with my mom.”
“Oh, that’s right. Zeus had you when he was a woman,” Hera recollected. “That was a peculiar time. I thought it a grand punishment and that he would learn respect for me. To some degree he did, but all it did was drive a wedge further between us. I suppose that’s what led to him or her, at the time, meeting your father.”
She smiled, a mix of pride, sorrow, and nostalgia in her expression. “I believe you are on the right path. And remember, DuVal, it’s not just about what you inherit but what you choose to become.”
As we sat there, I felt a strange sense of connection with Hera. Despite her initial antagonism, there was a bond forming—a mutual understanding and respect. The weight of her words settled over me, heavy yet reassuring.
“Sadly, that’s already been decided. I became a monster,” I said sadly, the reality of my past actions pressing down on me.
Hera’s head tilted, confused. “Why do you think that? Because you don’t have a place with them?” She gestured to the camp. “Just because you weren’t raised like they were doesn’t make you a monster. You move with a gentleness and wisdom that I don’t see others move with. Just earlier today, with the other daughter of Loki, you chose the softer path when you easily could have returned all the venom she sent you.”
“Ah, Cassandra isn’t bad, and besides, that would be begging for more bad to come my way,” I replied.
Hera smiled. “You’ve surprised me, DuVal. I thought you’d be like the rest of my husband’s children, but you’re not. Stay that way; it will serve you well.”
“Thank you,” I said, genuinely touched by her words. “I intend to.”
Hera’s eyes twinkled with a rare warmth. “You’ve earned it. Now, go and make the most of it.”
With that, she stood and began to walk away, leaving me with a renewed sense of purpose. As I watched her go, I knew that this moment had changed something fundamental in me. I wasn’t just the son of Zeus; I was my person, ready to forge my path.
Suddenly, Hera paused and turned back towards me, a contemplative look on her face. “DuVal, one more thing.”
“Yes?” I replied, curious about what else she had to say.
“Your perspective on avoiding unnecessary battles, on protecting others... that’s something I’ve seen too little of among the gods. It’s a quality that will make you a better leader and, perhaps, in time, a better god.”
Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. The idea of becoming a god had always been an abstract concept, something far off and intangible. But hearing it from Hera made it feel more real, more possible, and honestly, the idea repulsed me.
“I’ll do my best to live up to that,” I said, my voice steady.
Hera nodded, satisfied. “I have no doubt you will.” With that, she turned and disappeared into the trees, leaving me alone with my thoughts. A little while later I walked back to the councilor’s cabin where a new camera and a note waited for me.
“A hero is more than the weapon they wield. A leader is more than those they control. If you are truly a monster then maybe a monster is needed to guide us out of the night and into the dawn.” I chuckled as I read the note before I heard Sejeong behind me.
“Ooh, what’s that ?” She asked noticing the camera
“A gift I think,” I responded
Sejeong smiled as she closed the distance between us “Ooh a gift from who?”
“Hera I think.” Sejeong laughs as she looks at the camera before handing it to me to add it to my bag.
“You love that camera bag huh,” Sejeong noted
“Why do you say that?”
“I never see you without it.”
“Well I have approximately 5 grand stored in here,” Sejeong eyes popped as she heard the number
“I understand then,” she said with a smile before removing said bag to pounce on me and bombard me with kisses. I happily accepted her advances and let her conduct her “affection train” on me. Her kisses began to shift from chaste to hungry.
Sejeong lifted her shirt revealing her breasts. They were remarkable as always I palm both and began to kiss her more but something was off. I could tell something was eating at her. Like she was forcing herself to do this. As if trying to find her footing, but she couldn’t,
“What’s wrong,” I asked
“It’s nothing. it’s just,” Sejeong started
“Cassandra?” I finished. Sejeong nodded
After she had enough, she cuddled next to me and asked a peculiar question, her voice barely above a whisper, “DuVal, am I a bad person?”
I looked into Sejeong's eyes, seeing the vulnerability and self-doubt reflected there. I understood what she meant by this, the weight of her lineage and the expectations placed upon her. I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully.
“Sejeong, due to the position you are in, absolutely not. You’ve been trying your best under difficult circumstances, and that’s all anyone can ask for. I understand,” I said softly, my voice steady with conviction.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she leaned into me, seeking comfort. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly. “You are not a bad person, Sejeong. You have a kind heart, and you care deeply. That’s what matters.”
She sniffled, burying her face in my chest. “Thank you, Val. I needed to hear that.”
As we sat there, the room growing quieter, I felt a sense of finality settling over us. The weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings hung in the air. This was the end of our romantic relationship, but not the end of our connection.
I gently lifted her chin, making her look into my eyes. “Sejeong, you’ll always have a special place in my heart. We may not be together in the same way, but I’ll always be here for you. As a friend, as someone who understands.”
She nodded, a small, sad smile forming on her lips. “I feel the same way, Val. Thank you for being here, for understanding.”
We sat in silence for a while, just holding each other. The unspoken promise of continued support and friendship lingered between us, a comforting presence amid our parting.
Eventually, she pulled away slightly, wiping her tears. “I should go,” she said softly. “But this isn’t goodbye.”
“No, it’s not,” I agreed, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll still see each other, still be there for each other.”
With one last hug, she got up and left the room. I watched her go, feeling a mixture of sadness and relief. This was the right decision, for both of us. As I sat alone, I took a deep breath, letting the emotions wash over me. This was the end of one chapter, but the beginning of another.
End of Part I
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leaentries · 2 days
Text
ANON: matt rempe 2 shots 🥃
i apologize, the ask got deleted!
shots
-
normally, getting an uber back home wasn’t an issue. it was always the best option when you’ve had too much, except for right now. not when matt’s fingers were plunging deep into your cunt under the hem of your dress.
your body was on fire, the AC doing nothing to cool the burning sensation that spread through your veins. you tried your best to maintain your composure, but the way matt’s fingers stroked against your gummy walls had you squeezing your thighs around his wrist. you looked to him with pleading eyes, but only got a cocky smirk in return.
you knew you should have never made that bet with him.
before dinner, you and matt had made a little arrangement, per se. there was to be no touching, and whoever broke first had to endure whatever the other wanted. long story short, you caved an hour into dinner.
your hands gripped the edge of the leather, nails digging into the dark material. you tried your best to keep your head down, at least so the driver wouldn’t see the redness on your face, or the way your eyes rolled back. matt’s long fingers didn’t need much movement to reach that special spot deep inside of you, and he knew it. matt knew what his fingers did to you and how easily you fell apart on them. it was almost pathetic how just the sight of his calloused hands and the ridged veins that littered them was enough to have you soaking your panties.
“matt,” you grumbled lowly, not trusting your own noises at the moment.
“hmm?” he hummed nonchalantly. his fingers picked up their pace, your eyes shutting tightly with pleasure. you panted, chest heaving as you struggled to keep your composure.
“please,” you whined, not completely sure if you were pleading with him to stop or push you over that teetering edge.
“my poor baby,” he whispered in your ear as he scooted closer to you. you took the opportunity to wrap yourself around his arm, burying your face into his bicep. “so desperate, just can’t help herself.”
your hips bucked in response, the added stimulation from the heel of his palm sending waves of energy through your core. you bit down onto the thick fabric of his jacket, trying to hide your needy sounds as you approached your climax. matt crooked his fingers slightly, causing your toes to curl with the overwhelming sensations.
“that’s it huh?” he asked quietly, “right there?”
you nodded rapidly, your orgasm so close you could practically taste it. just a couple more thrusts and you’d be finishing all over the back seat. but, before you could, the car came to a stop. matt’s fingers haunted immediately, realizing you had pulled up to your apartment complex.
you cursed the driver in your head, he should have taken a longer route. matt took out his digits, much to your dismay. yet, watching him suck your arousal off and the way his tongue moved had a whole new wave of desire wash over you. you quickly fixed your dress, letting matt rush you out of the car. the both of you all but ran back to your apartment, barely making it through the front door before he was knuckle deep back into your core.
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f0point5 · 3 days
Note
The new fic was wonderful, I cant get enough of Em and Max I hope you never stop writing about them! That being said, I'm curious, would you write about one (or all four!) Times Max had to run around a city looking for Emelia?
Okay I’m sorry about how this turned out 🫣 I know in the fic it referenced that Max didn’t know there was a problem and only found out once she left but I am taking some artistic license with this being one of the four times! Don’t hate me 🫠
I did actually start a different one featuring Emilia’s dad so I may finish that one and we will get a funnier/more on brand instance of Emilia running away but…I hope you enjoy this one in the meantime!
✨Set in September 2021✨
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They nicknamed her “The Bolter”
Max watches the sunrise in total, deafening silence. He thinks at some point he gets up to feed the cats. He thinks, but he isn’t sure. He’s so tired. His eyes are watering. It’s not tears. He can’t sleep. He wants to. He doesn’t want to. It doesn’t matter if he wants to, he can’t. He can’t sleep knowing you’re not home. He can’t sleep not knowing you’re safe.
He looks at his phone again. He has it on loud and on vibrate but he still checks. Still hopes.
Daniel: Did you hear from her?
Lando: She’s not answering me sorry
Clara Albizzi: You fucked up
That last one makes me feel sick. He did fuck up. He knew the second he’d said it. The way your face just fell and you couldn’t look at him. The way your shoulders hunched over.
You’re the reason she’s not here!
You hadn’t even packed a bag. Hadn’t even taken keys for a car. You’d just picked up the shoes that were lying in the hallway and left.
And he’d let you.
It had taken everything in him to stand still and let you leave, even as the fear set in. Fear that smelled like freshly cut grass and petrol. Fear that felt like crisp night air. Fear that looked like headlights in the dark.
The restraint had only last a few minutes.
You had blocked him, of course. So he’d called your friends. He’d ended up calling half of Monaco including more drivers than he ever spoke to regularly. Everyone denied hearing from you. He’d actually driven to Daniel’s to confirm his story that he wasn’t home. Max wondered more than once if you’d earned more loyalty from his colleagues than he had. Even if one of them was lying to him, at least you were safe.
But he couldn’t take the chance that you really hadn’t ended up at someone’s place. You didn’t have you bag with you, or even comfortable shoes. You couldn’t pay for a cab. It was that thought that had sent him to the Hotel de Paris. It was your favourite hotel in town, you even checked in for staycations sometimes. They would have your information, so you wouldn’t even need a credit card. The receptionist had refused to tell him if you were staying there - illegal, apparently - but something about his appearance must have incurred her sympathy, because she’d said that they hadn’t had any unexpected guests.
That had sent him to Sass Café. A long shot, because you didn’t usually self medicate alone, but he’d tried anyway. Fifty times he thought he’d seen you across the room as he’d weaved his way through the hoards of people. Normally he could spot you anywhere but when all he wanted was to see you he’d seen you everywhere.
By the time he’d got home, some time in the wee hours, Max could feel himself starting to shut down. As he’d called your name to no response and checked your room to find it empty, he could feel himself starting to get cold. He’d sat down on the couch, intending to think about what he was going to do next, but the thoughts had started to get away from him. The memories of the last twelve hours began to fold in on themselves, becoming smaller and squarer and so too did the feelings. The anger, the frustration, the panic, the disappointment, it all got more manageable, packing itself away in the corner in his mind that Max had so often found himself hiding in.
Even the fear had gone. The fear had gone somewhere around 5.30 am, when the darkness started to wane. As he sat on the couch and watched the sky go from black to blue to the colour of the dress you wore to Luka’s christening, his leg stopped shaking, his fists unclenched, and the tightness in his chest disappeared.
Finally, emotions had given way to a familiar and encompassing emptiness. Max just felt numb.
You’re the reason she’s not here!
What had he even been so angry about? He could almost laugh at himself. He hadn’t been angry. He’d been embarrassed. You’d told him you’d found underwear that wasn’t yours in the washing machine and he’d been so fucking embarrassed. And then he’d thought, what did he have to embarrassed about, and he decided in a split second it must be because you were judging him, and who were you to judge him when you were the reason he was fucking random girls in the first place. His relationship had ended because of you.
You’re the reason she’s not here!
Except you weren’t the reason. Not really. It had been Max’s choice and he knew that. Max needed you more than he’d wanted her and he had never once regretted that choice, although wherever you were, you probably thought he did.
He almost wishes he could feel all of it. Whatever it is that’s been forced under the surface because he can’t deal with it. He can’t feel anything. His eyes are sore and unfocused and they sting.
He drags a hand over his face. He should do something. Get flowers, or call the police, or…anything. But he doesn’t. His limbs don’t move. He just sits there…like he’s waiting for someone to pick him up.
You’ve got to come back.
Don’t worry, Max. They always come back. You’ll apologise. You’ll do better next time.
His eyes water again. This time it might be tears.
Somewhere behind him, one of the cats meows. Maybe he didn’t feed them after all.
“Max?”
At the sound of your voice, Max’s head turns so fast his neck hurts. He blinks furiously at the sight of you. For a second he thinks he’s imagining you.
“I brought strudel,” you say, holding up a small folded pastry box.
Max gets up before his he tells himself to. He wants to pull you into his arms, the urge to do it is the only thing he’s felt in hours, but stays still. You’re back, but that doesn’t mean he’s forgiven.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he says. His voice sounds hoarse.
“Not everywhere, clearly,” you say with a shrug.
“I went to Sass, Daniel’s, I called Lando, Alex, Clara, Zita,” he says, as if trying to prove that he’d tried. “I went to the hotel to see if you were there. I’ve been around the whole city all night, I didn’t sleep,”
“Oh.”
You look a little sheepish, almost guilty, as you make your way to the kitchen. Max follows, too far behind for his liking but he’s still too scared to get closer.
He sits on one side of the island and you stand on the other. He really takes in your appearance now. Hair up, no make up. Wearing a pyjama shirt. Where the fuck did you get pyjamas? He doesn’t care. His eyes run over you one more time. He might never let you out of his sight again.
“Don’t scare me like that,” Max admonishes, though there is no strength behind his words.
“Don’t piss me off like that,” you retort, and there’s strength behind yours.
The look you give him cuts like second place, and he looks away. He looks out to the balcony. The sky is cobalt now. What time is it?
“Did you mean it?” You whisper into the silence.
Max looks at you now. “No.”
“But-“
“No.” This time it’s an oath.
You shake your head as you open the pastry box. “Max, you obviously kind of meant it,” you say, turning to pick up two plates from the counter. “And I don’t blame you. I know I’m the reason you and-“
“You’re not the reason,” Max insists. “She’s the reason. She thought…she made that choice. And yeah, a part of me is still angry about it, and I cannot talk to her so I took it out on you. That wasn’t right and I’m sorry. I don’t know why I even- I’m sorry. It was my fault,”
Take responsibility. It’s your fault. You caused this to happen. If you don’t like the outcome then stop making people angry.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, quieter this time. Even to his own ear it sounds a little more desperate.
You stare at him, eyes narrow, like you’re trying to read him, and Max almost flinches under the scrutiny. Finally, your face softens, and you sigh. Something in your posture eases.
“Max, it’s okay,” you say gently. “People fight. I just felt like shit and you know how I get. You’re fight, I’m flight, remember? I was…anyway, it doesn’t matter. We’re okay, right?”
“Yeah,” Max says. “Of course.”
You don’t look like you believe him, but he’s telling the truth. If you’re okay, then he’s okay. If you’re there, then he’s okay. If you’re home then that’s where he wants to be.
You shuffle around the island with two plates of strudel, padding on bare feet towards the living room with Max in hot pursuit.
“Where did you go?” He asks, now noticing that not even your shorts are the ones you left in last night.
“The Maybourne,” you explain, settling on the corner of the couch, legs outstretched. “The concierge gave me some spa pjs,”
Max takes a seat next to you, further than normal but closer than he’s been to you in what feels like forever.
“I’ll pay you back for the room,” he says with a rueful smile.
“Yeah, I think you will,” you say haughtily, and Max forced himself to laugh. There must be something in his expression that tips you off, though, because your face falls. “I’m sorry I left,”
Please don’t ever do that again.
The words are on the tip of his tongue but he swallows them. He doesn’t ask. He can’t. He has no right to ask you that, because no one can ever promise not to leave and he can’t promise to be worth staying for.
“It’s not the first time,” Max says with a chuckle, nudging you with his elbow. “I’m used to it by now,”
You roll your eyes and turn on the tv, flipping through to find the Moto GP race as Max yawns. The buzz he felt at your return is wearing off and the exhaustion is creeping up on him. He doesn’t want to sleep yet, though. Not when you’re still in his periphery. It’s stupid, but some part of him needs to be consciously in your presence for a while.
“Max, you can go to bed, if you want. I know you didn’t sleep,”
“No,” he says, a bit too quickly. He imagines that he blushes when you notice. His cheeks certainly burn. “I’m just….I’m fine here.”
You reach over to pick up a pillow and lay it on your lap. “At least lie down,” you say, patting the pillow like you do to get one of the cats to sit on you. Max hesitates, but only for a moment, because he’d do just about anything you told him right now.
He settles his head on the pillow, eyes fixed on the tv. He used to do this with his mum, he remembers. The first night joke after being with his dad for months, she’d put on a movie and Max would lay his head in her lap while they watched. He doesn’t think he’s ever told you that.
Your hand running through his hair is like a little jolt of energy, somewhere above him he hears you giggle at the shiver that goes through him. You don’t stop, though, finger massaging his scalp. It quiets all of his nerve endings.
“You need a haircut,” you tell him. He knows what you’re doing, but he can’t bring himself to care. As long as it’s you doing it.
“Yeah,” Max agrees. It’s the last thing he says before he finally falls asleep.
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