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megamindsecretlair · 4 months

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What You Deserve, Part 1

Pairing: Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Toxic filth. Infidelity. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) teasing/mocking, cum play, dirty talk, praise kink, Daddy kink, all consensual.

Summary: While out running errands for your family, sweet and handsome Stunna helps put the groceries in your car. A naughty, run-away thought leads you to invite him back to your house to thank him properly.

Word Count: 6,984k

Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: The brainrot is REAL. This is a hot ask from @planetblaque Everybody say thank you for this toxic hot fic! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia

You walked down the grocery store aisle and the squeaky wheel on the cart was driving you nuts. You managed to get a lot on the list but you were still looking around for rice. You sighed. You hated when the store rearranged shit for no reason. How hard was it to keep things in the same place?

You turned down the rice aisle and noticed a tall man wearing a black and white flannel shirt, dark jeans, and boots. Damn, he looked really good standing there picking out taco packets. You looked down at your wedding ring and curled your lip in disgust.

Your husband would never be caught dead in the grocery store. And if he did, he’d only call you every two seconds because he didn’t pay attention to shit. He was a big picture man, staring ahead years into the future and what he needed to do to provide for the family.

Provide. That’s all he knew how to do. Your husband wasn’t a bad man…he was oblivious in a way that should have been a warning bell before you got married. As such, you were five years into the marriage with perfect five year old twins. When they weren’t being little demons.

You looked back towards the man and he was looking between two items, looking at the ingredients. You got a nice look at the length of his neck, his beard, and a cute little mumble he did while he debated.

You shouldn’t be checking out another man but well, you weren’t dead. You saw something pretty, you were going to look at it. And in this case, the man was too pretty for words. Or maybe it was your libido talking. After the kids, your husband paid less attention to that aspect of the marriage, forcing you into a life of celibacy.

Every blue moon, he’d look at you with something that could be called interest and then he’d get you just wet enough to get inside you. He’d get off, ask if you did, and then pass out in front of the TV. You started lying that you did just to get him out of the room. Who the hell wanted to be with someone that made sex feel like a chore?

You picked up a small packet of rice and then thought about it. The bigger packet was more expensive but it’d last longer. And with the way your son, Noah, ate he’d eat you out of house and home by the time he’s a teenager. You picked up the bigger packet and scooted off down the aisle.

You passed by the man. He looked up and gave you a double take, smiling as you passed showing off grills. You may have swayed your hips a little too hard as you turned the corner. Though, who were you fooling?

While the kids were at school and your husband was at work, you barely put any effort into how you looked. You were a married stay at home mom and that meant lounge pants and a T-shirt were your best friend. Sometimes you even matched. You had joined the invisible legion of women whose world stopped as you took care of your family. You were happy to do so, but it was times like these that made you feel like you lost that spark. That sense of identity outside of your family.

As you went down other aisles, somehow you managed to end up in the same ones with Mr. Sexy. It got to the point where’d notice first and smile at you. You smiled shyly back but avoided getting too close. He didn’t need any encouragement from you. If you were single though…

You sighed and made your way to the checkout lane. It was still early and there weren't a lot of people in the store. You checked out and pushed the cart to your truck, popping the trunk and starting to lift the bags inside.

“Excuse me! Miss!” A deep voice made you turn to the sound and there was Mr. Sexy waving over to you.

“Yes?” You asked.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to help with your bags,” he said when he got closer to your truck.

“Oh, that’s sweet but not necessary,” you said.

“Please. My mama would turn in her grave if she knew I didn’t help a beautiful woman like you,” he said.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help a small smile. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you.”

The small act of help touched you in ways that you weren’t expecting. As he lifted bags out of the cart, your eyes grew a little teary. When was the last time your own husband helped with groceries?

“You look like you feeding an army here,” the man said.

You giggled. Well, he was bound to find out. “Ah, yeah. My husband and kids can eat a lot,” you said.

You watched his face to see what the news would do to him. Whether he was sad or disappointed that you were off the market. He only nodded. “Must be some slammin’ food if they eatin’ it like that,” he said.

“I can throw down in the kitchen,” you bragged, preening a bit that you could do so.

“Oh yeah? What you be makin’? And just know I’m already judging,” he said. He heaved bag after bag into your trunk and it made you a little sad thinking of bringing all that shit in the house by yourself.

“Meatloaf, roast beef stew, enchiladas. In fact, I’m making that tonight,” you said.

“Oh word? I be cookin’ sometimes too,” he said and then grinned like he was remembering a funny joke. “Enchiladas sound good as hell right now, too.”

A naughty thought entered your mind. It was too brief and quick and you instantly kicked it to the back, hiding it in a tiny box and stepping on it. “You making anything special for your girl?” You asked.

He finished with the bags and then closed the trunk for you. “Naw, ain’t got a girl,” he said. He grinned at you. That smile could melt ice. You felt your pussy throb and your eyes widened. You about thought the damn thing was broken.

“It’s just you?” You asked.

“Just me, unfortunately. But that’s alright. For now, I get to make whatever the hell I want and enjoy it,” he said.

“Must be nice. My family loves my shit, but it’s not like they have an alternative,” you said and giggled.

“Shame. I bet it’s delicious,” he said. Was he…flirting with you? Even knowing you had a family?

“Thanks. I should probably get this home and start cooking. Thank you for helping me,” you said.

He reached out his hand and you looked at it. Somehow, even shaking his hand felt naughty. Like he was going to see all the nasty things running through your mind. Thoughts of riding his thigh until you got off. Soaking his dick while he slammed inside of you. The thoughts were so vivid to you, you were worried that he’d read it all over your face.

Another advantage to getting the house to yourself in the daytime was that you had plenty of toys to get the job done in peace. One thought about his face and you were sure you’d beat your personal record.

You shook his hand so you weren’t rude and he held on. “I’m Stunna,” he said. He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss there. The back of your hand tingled and it moved all throughout your body until you were throbbing once more. Twice in a short amount of time? Calm down, girl. It wasn’t like you could do something with this man.

You told him your name. “Would you mind if I gave you my number? If you’re out shopping, I can help you again,” he said.

You giggled. “You would come all the way to the store just to help me load groceries into my car?”

“I’d unload them too if you let me,” he said. He was serious, not an ounce of humor on his face.

“You know I’m married, right? Like I didn’t bury that anywhere,” you said.

He laughed. “I heard that part, but I also don’t see the mu’fucka. Anyone letting you out of his sight must be ten kinds of stupid,” he said. He looked you over, making a show of turning his head one way and then another.

You laughed but didn’t let go of his hand. Found that you didn’t want to. Found that you were touch starved as hell and it was damn nice touching someone that looked as good as he did. “What, my husband supposed to have me on a leash?” You asked.

“Sheit, I would,” he said. “Yo sexy ass wouldn’t be able to breathe without me.”

“You better stop!” You said. Oh god, your cheeks were burning like hell and the whole thing was cute and weird and embarrassing. You did not get giggly because one man paid you a compliment.

He wasn’t the first one to do so. Even though your husband was buried with work, he still called you beautiful. Raggedy men still tried to holler at you while you pumped gas and ran errands. None were so bold as Stunna though. There was something about that level of confidence that had you squeezing your thighs together.

“Do you really want me to stop?” Stunna asked.

No. Not even a little bit. But you couldn’t say that. “You probably should. Gonna get us both in trouble,” you said.

“I don’t mind a little trouble. You never answered me about giving you my number. I was serious,” he said. “I don’t want anything in return, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’d just like to see you again. Your husband don’t let you have friends?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes playfully and finally dropped his hand. You were holding onto it entirely too long. “I can have friends,” you said. But you knew that he’d be anything but friendly. And why did that turn you on?

“See, that’s that nigga’s first mistake. I wouldn’t let you have no friends neither,” he said.

You laughed loudly and shook your head. “Life with you sounds restrictive as hell! What if I want alone time?” You asked.

“You could have all the alone time you want. At home,” he said.

You couldn’t help laughing again, leaning against your truck as you pictured life with him. Life where he was clingy and wrapped entirely with you and never chose you over his work. The type of life you always dreamed about when you were younger and thought love meant candy hearts, roses, and bubbly champagne.

“You have issues, sir,” you said.

“That’s aight. You just look too damn good to go to the store by yourself or run errands. These belong on a honey-do list,” he said.

You smiled. Your husband would break out in hives if you gave him a honey-do list that involved the grocery store or runs to the clothing store for your twins. Your kids were active in every sense of the word. You made it a point that they stay off screens as much as possible and get out into the big backyard your husband paid for.

They found every mud patch, mudslide, and dusty hill to play on. When they came back in, they looked like swamp monsters. Your husband in the store trying to find good, cute outfits? Yeah right.

“You are crazy. But I want to thank you. How does enchiladas sound?” You asked.

“Word? I get to try some?” He asked.

“If you’re serious about helping me unpack these groceries, then yeah. I think that’s worth a meal being cooked for you for once,” you said. Intrusive thoughts won for the day. You liked talking to him and you were worried that if you gave him your number, you’d chicken out. You’d reason and logic this away until you were even more depressed about the state of your marriage.

It’d be nice to cook for someone who’d genuinely appreciate it. Rather than eating to live. Stunna seemed like the type that lived to eat and it was nice to find a kindred spirit.

He grinned wider, showing up a neat row of white teeth and those grills. “I’d love to try your food,” he said.

“Alright, follow me,” you said.

He walked you to the driver side of your car and held the door open for you while you climbed in. “See you soon,” he said and closed the door when you were safely inside. You put on your seatbelt and watched him return the cart to the proper place.

Your heart thundered in your chest as he made it to his own car. You started yours up and pulled out of the parking spot. A moment later, he was pulling up behind you. You drove home, heart in your throat. What the hell were you doing?

Stunna was a stranger and you were just letting this man follow you home. You watched his car in your rear view mirror and wondered what he was like. So far, he had been nothing but cordial but a tad forward. You knew he valued his mom and was a gentleman, even though he had silly ideas about how he’d treat his woman.

You remembered your single days. Grabbing enough food for yourself and eating lonely meal after lonely meal. Stunna didn’t seem like he was hurting for female company. It seemed like he was interested in yours and well, what the hell? You were grown, you could protect yourself.

Besides, you just really, really wanted to keep talking to him.

You pulled into your driveway and Stunna parked on the street. You were in the quiet suburbs where Black folks were just trying to get by. They had nice houses and decent jobs, but people were more interested in faking the funk than admitting that they were struggling.

Your husband was smart with money so you weren’t hurting. But buying two of everything was expensive. It seemed like Noah was always playing right out of the shoes you bought him and Naomi just had to have the latest baby doll.

Stunna joined you at your car and you unlocked it for him. He grabbed a handful in each hand and you were sorry he was wearing long-sleeves. You wanted to see his muscles work. You wanted to see his shirt off.

For now, you would settle with just watching him be considerate. You let him into your home and he whistled. “Nice ass house,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said. You had it decorated to your specifications so it wasn’t stuffy and stiff. As if you lifted it from a magazine. Naw. Your house was lived in and full of love.

You walked to the kitchen and showed him where to drop off the bags. “Naw, I wanna earn my meal. Point to where they go and I’ll do it,” he said.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said.

“I know. Let me help. Sit yo pretty ass down and get some water,” he said.

“Fine,” you said with a grin. He grabbed the rest of the groceries from the car and closed your front door. You asked him to lock it. You may live in a nice neighborhood but that didn’t mean shit. Thieves would use any advantage to steal. Stunna could be a thief but he didn’t have to wait till he got here. Sure, he could steal the shit in your house but it was all insured. He’d have been better off stealing your wallet at the store.

You told him which ingredients to leave out for the enchiladas while you grabbed two water bottles from the fridge. You downed at least half of it. Stunna made you feel like you were standing on top of a hot vent.

He accepted his bottle and sat down at the bar stool, looking at you while you dug out pots and pans, cooking utensils, and your cutting board.

You talked about light subjects like your family, friends, and what he does for a living. He was a bit cagey about that part, so you assumed it was something bad. You weren’t trying to be judgemental but you could not see his sexy ass saying, “Yes, Sir. No, Sir”, at an office job like your husband.

You put the chicken on to boil and started prepping the veggies for the salad on the cutting board. Yes, he judged the hell out of how you sliced them.

“I’m trying to make you a nice lunch,” you said.

“I know! I’m just saying, you could slice them faster and more evenly,” he said.

“You’re not supposed to help me with the meal too!”

He chuckled. “I don’t mind. Can I show you?” He asked.

You gave him a playful look to know that you were mad at him but with no real heat. “Fine, since you know everything,” you said.

He got up from the stool and came around the kitchen island. He washed his hands in the sink and then took the knife from you. “Aight, so if you hold it like this and the tomato like this, boom,” he said. He focused on the task, blowing through the tomato like butter.

“Wait, how’d you do that?” You asked. He chuckled and grabbed another one, going slower and showing you how to do what he did. He grabbed the last one and let you do it. You made one slice and he made a noise like a game buzzer.

“May I?” He asked.

You really shouldn’t. But your head was nodding anyway. He stood behind you and you closed your eyes briefly. He was so strong and solid behind you. He leaned down so he could bring his hands on top of yours. He showed you how to hold the knife and tomato and how to make the same cuts he did.

He helped you with the first few slices and then left you to make the next ones by yourself. He didn’t move from behind you as you moved through cutting it, chopping it up like a professional chef.

“I did it!” You said. You giggled and danced, shaking your ass on his crotch until you realized what you did and stopped.

“I am so sorry!” You said. You flipped around in his arms and he titled his head at you.

“I’m not,” he said with a slow grin.

“Stunna, now you know…”

“I know that you seem a little lonely. Forgive my bluntness, but shit, this whole house to yourself every day and all you do is cook and clean?”

“I take care of my family,” you said defensively.

“I know. But who take care of you? Shit on the outside, it look like yo husband forgot what a baddie he got for a wife,” he said. “I wouldn’t ever forget.”

He used his fingers to lift your chin up and forced you to look at him. “Stunna, I’m married,” you said. You said it like it was a piece of armor you drew around yourself. Those two words would stop even the most persistent of men.

“Mhm, yet you here with me,” he said.

“I got kids,” you said.

“They little asses still in school, ain’t they? I’m great with kids,” he said.

You giggled. “You are so bad.”

He grinned, flashing you the grills. He was dangerous. Likely some type of criminal. A veritable hood rat that chased skirts and smoked all day. The complete opposite of your straight-laced husband who got pissy if his tie didn't match his shirt.

“I can be worse,” he said. He put his hands on the countertop on either side of you. He placed a kiss against your neck, breathing in your scent. You wore your favorite lotion and were glad you did.

“Let me be bad and take care of you for once,” he whispered against your skin. “Don’t you deserve it? Don’t you deserve to feel good?” He moved his lips to the other side of your neck. You leaned your head back, letting out a soft moan.

If he kissed you, you’d cum on the spot. That’s how needy you were. How desperate and starved for affection.

“Stunna, are you serious?” You asked.

“Hell yeah. See, the why I see it? This ain’t you, mama. You need some relief. I can be that,” he said.

“Even though…”

“Hear me when I say that I don’t give a flying fuck about your husband. I don’t give a shit that you’re a mom. I see a fine ass woman with a banging body that I wanna put on this table and taste her. Eat her for lunch,” he whispered in your ear. The force of his words were like tiny arrows shooting you with desire.

You leaned back so that you could look him in the eyes. “Do it. I want that,” you said.

Stunna turned and lowered the heat on the chicken. Then, he grabbed your hand and led you to the dining table. He intuitively moved to the head of the table. You went to loosen the tie at your waist, but he slapped your hand away.

He brought his lips to yours and you let him. You let him kiss you and opened your mouth to run your tongue against his. He moaned and kissed you deeper, rougher. He knew without you having to say what you needed.

He pulled the tie at your waist, letting your lounge pants slip off of your hips and down to the floor. Shit!

You pulled away from him and tried to hide your hideous granny panties. He pulled your hands away. “Think this scare me away?” He asked.

You nodded but you couldn’t look him in the eye. How the hell were you supposed to be sexy while wearing these atrocities? To be fair, you weren’t expecting sex today. Your husband was on a project that sucked up all of his time and attention.

“Naw. Just makes you sexier to me. Move them hands,” he said.

You bit your lip and shook your head. There was no way you could continue after looking so gross.

Stunna leaned down and kissed your ear. “If I gotta move ‘em, you ain’t gon’ like it,” he said.

Shit, that only turned you on. You lowered your hands and finally looked at him. “That’s right. Be a damn good girl for me and take them sexy panties off,” he said.

Your fingers shook as you lowered your panties. Cool air brushed along your skin but did little to cool you off. There was a roaring fire of desire burning through your veins and you hadn’t even done anything. Hadn’t done more than kiss and take off your clothes.

“Shirt too,” he said. He grabbed you by the waist and picked you up, sitting you down on the table. You yelped from the cold surface, making him grin.

You plucked off the T-shirt. Your bra was just as plain and ratty. All the cute bra and panty sets in your drawer and this was what you wore when you finally got some. The situation would be funny if it weren’t so embarrassing. Stunna truly didn’t seem to mind as you took off your bra.

His eyes lit up as he looked at your titties. He sat down in your husband’s seat and palmed your breasts, running his fingers over your sensitive nipples. You moaned, arching your back so that he could get a better angle.

He leaned forward and brought his lips to your left nipple, flicking his tongue over it. He latched on, suckling it into his mouth and you cried out from the pressure and bite of pain. Endorphins rushed through your system, making you squirm on the table. You were so wet.

He massaged your titties as he suckled. He moved on to your right nipple, suckling on it and moaning as if he were getting pleasure from this too. It wasn’t a chore. He wanted to touch you, taste you.

“Shit,” you moaned.

As he switched sides once more, he brought his hand down to cup your pussy. You jerked off of the table and he cooed. “Hmm, nice and creamy already. Love me a creamy girl. You got some more for me?”

He slowly worked his fingers past your pussy lips. He gathered up your essence at your entrance and used it to circle and tease your clit. You brought one of your hands up to his shoulder to push at him.

“What I tell you about them hands, gorgeous?” He asked.

“But…”

He bit your nipple and you cried out from the sting. “Uh-uh, do what Daddy tell you to.”

Fuck. You came on his fingers already, thighs twitching and brain tingling. You moaned throughout it, that sweet relief everything you needed. Relief that didn’t come from your own two fingers or a sex toy was somehow more intense. More visceral.

You bit your lip and looked at him. He watched you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “Needed that shit, didn’t you?” He asked.

You didn’t trust your voice. You nodded shyly. Ugh! You hated this! You did not land your husband being this timid woman who was too afraid to even moan during sex. You enjoyed the hell out of it. You enjoyed the hell out of it with your husband. But once you got pregnant, he knew he needed to step up. Grinding for you became more important than grinding in you.

A pang of shame hit you. You allowed another man to touch you. You swiftly kicked that bit of shame to the back of your mind. This wasn’t about emotions or starting anything. This was something nasty to get out of your system. The last hurrah you never got because you were pregnant when your husband proposed. You never got a wild bachelorette party with strippers and dick straws.

“Spread them legs,” he commanded.

You grinned slowly. You opened your legs and gave him a sultry look. The look of surprise on his face was priceless. You were just a little rusty. You knew how to throw down.

“You so fuckin’ sexy. Spread open for me,” he said. He licked his fingers, licking away your arousal. He moaned and closed his eyes, savoring your taste. “Sweet, just like you.”

He grabbed your thighs and opened them wider. He rubbed his big nose in between your folds. His tongue lapped at your entrance. His moans got higher as he tasted you in earnest.

“Oh shit! Oh fuck! Shit!” You moaned. His tongue felt like exactly how you pictured heaven. Eternal spring, warm sun, soft grass to sink your toes into. Your thighs pushed in ready to trap his face but his warm hands pushed them out. Pushed them away. Kept your legs open for him to lick and suck and tease your clit.

He made out with your pussy. Licking you and then following behind by his lips to lap up whatever you leaked out. Your thighs quivered at the attention and care. At the total devotion to getting you off. You cried and whined until you were plunging head first into another orgasm. One that rocked you down to your core.

“Oue, shit,” you moaned. You looked down and he was still lapping at your juices. You glitched every time his tongue swiped your sensitive clit. He stopped and retreated from your pussy, a long spit chain still connecting you both. His beard was glistening with your arousal and you moaned, loving the picture before you.

He licked his lips, breaking the chain. “Damn girl. Creamy as fuckin’ hell,” he said.

You licked your own lips. Needing a double dose of him. You leaned forward and reached for his pants. He stopped you. “Use your words,” he said.

“I need you. I wanna taste you, too,” you said.

He gripped your chin and brought you closer. And he wanted to kiss you after eating you out?!

His lips were puckered and wet. His beard tickled your chin as he kissed you. This wasn’t just a kiss. It was like he wanted to share your essence with you. Like he wanted you to taste yourself on his tongue and get a glimpse of what he did when he was between your thighs.

You did taste yourself and it was so damn hot. You smelled yourself all over him. His tongue explored your mouth. Your kisses were loud and sloppy. Lazy and slow, so at odds with how intense this man had been so far.

Your hands pulled at his shirt, trying to unbutton his shirt or slip it over his head. You needed him naked too. You needed to see all of him. “There’s that little nasty freak. I knew she was in there,” he said against your lips.

“Pants. Off. Now,” you said.

He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. He made quick work of his pants dropping them down just enough to expose his long, thick dick. Veins stood out against the shaft and drool threatened to spill out of your mouth.

You wanted to see more. You pulled at his shirt and he laughed again. “Do I need to tie those hands up? ‘Cause you don’t know how to listen,” he said.

“I wanna see all of you,” you said.

“Naw, today’s about you,” he said. He tilted his head and grabbed his dick, stroking a few times as he looked at your dripping pussy.

“‘Bout you getting what you so obviously deserve.” He slapped his dick against your pussy. Your eyes rolled back. You lost track of how many orgasms he handed out. You should be tired. You should be too wrung out to do anything more.

But you were hungry for him. Desperate for that long dick to deliver the strokes you sorely miss. Need.

“Today’s about getting you back to normal. To remind you that you’re fuckin’ gorgeous. That you shouldn’t go a day without getting filled up and fucked,” he said.

“Oh god. Fuck,” you moaned.

He slowly worked his way into your pussy. You moaned, crying out at just how big he was. How deep he was already and he hadn’t bottomed out yet.

“Ouue, shit. Hear this pussy talkin’?” He asked.

“Unf, yesss,” you moaned.

“You hear it? You should be hearing that every night,” he said. He wet his dick with your arousal and your toes curled as he finally settled himself in your wet heat.

“Fuck. Flip over ‘cause you don’t know how to behave,” he said.

“I can behave,” you said and poked your bottom lip out.

He grinned, those golds transforming him from hot to smoldering. He kissed you with a loud smack. “You can’t even listen when Daddy tell you do something. Flip that ass over,” he said.

You whined playfully as he slipped out. You let your wobbly legs down onto the floor and then turned around. He moved your hips until he lined you up where he wanted you. He lifted your left leg to hug the table and pressed down on your back until you were flush against the surface.

He smacked your ass. The loud sound and pain made you cry out. “Show me how you got them kids,” he said.

“Fuuuck,” you moaned.

He rammed his dick back inside you and you gasped. He stayed there, buried inside you while you adjusted to his girth and length. “Oue, shit. Fuuuck, you’re so big Daddy,” you moaned. You shook your ass on his dick.

He placed his hands on your hips but made no further movements. You began to move, rocking back on his dick, showing him exactly how you got your kids. You slammed down on him how you liked. Rough. Hard. It wasn’t difficult to do since his dick was so big. You had so much to work with.

“Ohhh, you like this dick,” he said.

“Yes, Daddy, I like it,” you said. Hell, you had no room to lie. Even working yourself desperately on his dick like this, you were having the time of your fucking life.

He chuckled and then started stroking. “Oh shit,” you said, a hint of panic creeping into your voice. You thought you were doing a little something. Arching your back and bouncing your ass on his dick.

But Stunna? Stunna was a different breed. He gave it to you exactly how you needed. He rutted inside of you, slamming you back on his dick with enough force to rob you of air. Rob you of thought. You were able to turn your brain off and enjoy getting filled up.

“You still like that shit?” He asked.

“Ahm,” you moaned. You couldn’t answer him. Couldn’t do anything but accept this deep, rough fucking. He moved his hands to your lower back and switched up his strokes. He moved deeper, his strokes longer. His thighs slapped against your ass loud enough to be mistaken for fireworks or a gunshot.

You laid your cheek against the table and let your body take over for you. Your body knew exactly what to do. Your pussy gripped him and he moaned low in his throat.

“I need that last one, mama. Gimme that last one,” he said.

“I…can’t…” You said.

“Sure you can. Gripping me so pretty. You almost there. You almost there, I can feel it. I can feel how much you need it. Let it go, mama. Let it go,” he said. His voice grew quieter as he talked.

The pressure in your lower belly was unbearable. You whined, knowing you were on the edge. You didn’t know what you needed but you were too far gone to name it. Claim it. To let him know.

Stunna’s hands roamed up your back until one of his hands was gripping the back of your neck. He squeezed and you gasped at the new angle. He got deeper, the tip of him kissing the very heart of you.

You exploded with a loud shriek, squeezing him and cumming with the power of a thousand suns. You shook and twitched on the table, flopping around. You were too lost to consider how crazy you looked.

“Gahh damn,” he moaned. He moved his hips rougher and faster until he slammed into you and shouted, unloaded a huge load into you.

“Sheeeeit,” you moaned. His cum painted your insides. Some of him slipped out around his dick and dropped down to your clit and likely landed on the table.

“Fuck, mama. That was fuckin’ sexy,” he said. He slowly pulled out and you felt the rush of his cum leak out. Good fucking thing you were still on birth control. The last thing, the absolute last thing you needed was to turn up pregnant with another man’s baby. Good luck explaining that to your husband.

You were still glitching on the table. So thoroughly fucked out that you couldn’t move yet. Didn’t want to move.

Stunna rubbed your back and then your booty. He gave you a booty massage while he watched his cum spill out of you.

The smell of chicken finally invaded your senses. “Food,” you said.

“Don’t worry, mama. You focus on getting your strength back,” he said. He zipped himself back up and then washed his hands. He turned off the stove and then heated up the pan. You listened and saw his back as he moved around your kitchen, cooking food for your family.

He fried up the shells, dipped it in the sauce and then rolled it on the pan with chicken and cheese. Done, he put some seasoning on top followed by more cheese. He put it in the oven and set a timer.

This. This was what you thought married life would be like. Getting your guts rearranged and cooking food together. Laughing together. Playing together.

Stunna came back around to check on you. He grinned and leaned on the table to kiss you. You were still in the same position he left you in. Fucked out and blissed out.

“Why don’t you go shower and I’ll watch the food. Should be done by the time you get out,” he said.

“How are you…”

“I see somethin’ I want, I want it. Let a real nigga show you how to appreciate the mother to his kids,” he said. He kissed you again and rubbed on your booty. “Now get your sexy ass upstairs before you’re late picking up your kids,” he said.

He helped you to your feet, proud of himself. Bastard. You picked up your clothes but Stunna stopped you from putting them on.

“I wanna see that ass jiggle up the stairs,” he said.

“I can’t stand you!” You said and giggled, wiggling your ass for him. You swayed your hips. A new energy suffusing you as you did so. You walked up to your room and showered, feeling nasty and like a woman again. Like you were more than a glorified maid and cook.

Done with your shower, you came downstairs. Stunna was on his phone, sitting at the table like he didn’t fuck you senseless thirty minutes ago. When you came back in with cuter panties this time, black leggings, and a red T-shirt, Stunna whistled like you were walking around in lingerie.

“Sexy ass. Getting fucked look good on you,” he said.

“Shut up!” You giggled. The enchiladas were cooling on the counter top. It smelled divine. You grabbed a plate and handed it to him, sitting down next to him. “Not really mines since you ended up finishing it,” you said.

“You not gon’ have none?” He asked.

You shook your head. “I’ll have some later. My schedule kinda lines up with the twins. I eat when they do,” you said.

Stunna pushed the plate towards you, holding out the fork. “Eat,” he said.

“I’m fine,” you said.

“Do I need to feed you?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes and took the fork from him. Nasty ass. If he fed you, you’d be late to pick up your kids. You ate a bite and moaned at the taste. His style was similar to yours but food made by other people tasted so much better.

You ate half and pushed the other half to him. He chuckled. “Aight, but next time you’re eating all of it. Gotta take care of yourself too,” he said.

“Oh, next time? That’s bold,” you said.

He ate and shrugged his shoulders. “You ain’t telling me no,” he said.

You rolled your eyes again. You laughed and giggled your way during his meal. He finished and you washed the plate. Dishes were your least favorite chore so you made sure to do it as soon as possible. To avoid it getting gross. And yes, a little bit of you wanted no reminder of him here.

Stunna came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He dropped his head to your shoulder. “Give me your number. I won’t cause a scene. I just wanna be in your life,” he said.

“Stunna, we can’t. This was fun,” you said.

“More than fun.” He lifted your chin with his fingers and looked in your eyes. “You feel something here. We work well together. However you’ll have me,” he said.

You bit your lip. You wrestled with the decision. He already knew where you lived. What was your number on top of that?

Your alarm went off. Your first reminder that you needed to get going to arrive at pick up early. You jerked away from Stunna, grabbing your phone off of the counter and silencing it. Stunna watched you as you thought through your options.

“Giving you my number is like…agreeing to keep doing this,” you said.

“I ain’t gon’ pressure you for nothin’ you don’t wanna give. This can be whatever you want. But I saw your face when I was in that pussy. And it’s obvious your husband been neglecting you. Use me,” he said.

He slowly walked over to you. He took the phone from your hands and started tapping away. “Use me whenever your hands don’t do nearly as good a job as me,” he said.

You sighed and grinned. “Nasty ass,” you said.

“I’ma dip. But use that number.” He gave you a last, scorching kiss and then let himself out of your house.

You stared at the door, long after he was gone until your second alarm went off. You silenced it and made sure the stove was off. You left the house to pick up Noah and Naomi, listened to their excited chatter about school and what they learned.

You descended into “mom mode” as you fell into your normal routine. Get them home, homework done, washed up, and ready for dinner. Your husband made a rare appearance for once kissing you on the cheek and the kids on the head.

“Did you try something different?”

“Huh?” You asked, looking up from your dinner.

“Did you try something different with the enchiladas? It tastes different, but delicious like always, babe,” he said.

You stared at the table, picturing all the nasty shit you did there. How Stunna not only handled you, he also handled dinner. You sipped your water since your mouth went dry. The flashbacks were vicious.

“Saw something online that I wanted to try. You like it?” You asked.

“Mhm,” your husband said.

You hid your smile by eating more of the food and wondered when you could get Stunna back over.

The Secret Big Stunna Files...in case you needed a little more in your life.

Part 2 | Part 3

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notyourhetloki · 10 months

Text

Ken's NSFW Alphabet

Reader: gender neutral

/NSFW Ken x Reader/

A/N: You know what? I ALWAYS wanted to make one of these... I literally have no excuse for it I just need him carnally ok pls don't judge me NSFW Alphabet originally found here.

Warnings: this Ken has genitals lol, top!Ken, lots of sex talk, no images just text, very explicit!

—

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

I think Ken would be a very caring lover, making sure you had everything you needed and that includes aftercare! He would draw a trail of kisses down your body to your legs, massaging them while asking if you're ok, then would take you in his arms and keep you there for all the time you needed. Ken would even clean you up if necessary, joining you in a nice shower, combing your hair... Yeah, he's the KING of aftercare!

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I think Ken really like his arms, they're amazing to show off his muscles and strength and even better for carrying you around!

And his favorite part about you is definitely your beautiful face! But most especially, your lips. Ken loves when you kiss him all over his body, it never fails to make him shiver.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically...)

Well, because he's a doll, I don't believe there would be a risk of diseases or pregnancy (particularly if you live in Barbieland/are a doll as well) so… yeah he would cum inside you pretty much every time. The feeling of you around him while he cums is intoxicating enough, but he would make exceptions for when you asked him to cum over your face… that vision was also fantastic.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Ken has a very big fantasy of fucking you while he wears his mink, or seeing you suck him off while he wears it… anyway, he wants to wear the mink!! But he feels a little silly about it…

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Before you, I don't think he had any experience, really. He knew about sex from the media he consumed (he even read a few books on it, out of curiosity) but sex was not really a priority especially in Barbieland. That is until he visited the Real World and you showed up...

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)

Cowgirl/boy. Ken loves to have you on top, seeing you bounce on top of him while he grabs your waist is SUCH a turn-on. And that way you also could control the pace... yeah, he adores it.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

It depends... are you making love after a whole day spent together? Yeah, he could be goofy, wanting to see you laugh at every opportunity he can. But are you fucking after spending the day apart, needy and desperate? No time for joking around.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He's a doll so I'm pretty sure he's just shaved down there... nothing really to be worried about!

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

Ken is so needy... so needy he would embrace you during the whole thing if he could. He's the type of guy who says "I love you" during sex, and he's ok with it! As long as you say it back... and you always say it back.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Masturbating was not really a thing dolls did, but he would do it occasionally out of curiosity. And after you came around, he couldn't help himself a few times... humping a pillow before sleep and dreaming about your body. Yeah, he masturbated quite a lot then, thinking about you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

PRAISE KINK this one's obvious… the guy could nut only from being praised if you took the time to do it. If you praise him during sex while looking him in the eyes, oh… his cock immediately twitches in anticipation. It's adorable, actually.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Because he's very jealous and protective of you, he only does it inside of your house (or his mojo dojo casa house) somewhere no one can see you, so yeah… not very adventurous in that aspect.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Besides the praise, just... being your boyfriend. Matching clothes with you, holding your hand... kissing you immediately turns him on, and being called names like "baby", "love", "blondie" makes him go wild. He just loves the attention and of course, loves when you're turned on as well.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

I don't think Ken would enjoy rougher sex... don't get me wrong, he can definitely pick up a fast pace from time to time, but... ROUGH as in, slapping you, calling you names... nuh-uh, he don't likey. He hates the possibility of hurting you in any way.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Ken honestly doesn't have a preference. He loooves eating you out/sucking you off and the praise that comes with it, making sure you finish so he can taste you. But oh, there's something just as endearing in the wet sounds you make while sucking him, the feeling of your lips tightly around his dick... oof! He loves both ways!

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

At the very first time you had sex I think Ken would be slow and not really in rhythm, so overwhelmed by the sensation of being with you… So you'd have to take control and guide him. He would eventually get the hang of it, and the more confident he became, the faster he went. So yeah, when he's feeling sentimental he goes slow, taking his time with you. But if he's feeling confident, he likes to show off and fuck you raw.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He's pretty neutral about quickies, I mean... Ken likes taking his sweet time with you, but if you're both feeling naughty and there's not really much time, he would definitely go for it!

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Hmm, I would say he's not really into taking risks. Ken probably waits for you to suggest something before he suggests it himself. He doesn't want to scare you off or anything like that.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

Baby, he's a DOLL... He can go as many times as you desire! LOL But oh, on the first few times you had sex, he didn't last very long... he was too overwhelmed but soon he felt better! Now he lasts a reaaally long time.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Not sure if there are sex toys in Barbieland, but if yes, sure! He would definitely have a vibrator to use on you. Anything that helps you cum is a treasured tool for him, because getting you to cum is his top priority during sex!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Besides lasting for an absurd amount of time, he loooves to tease as well. Kissing and softly biting on your skin before slowly going down on you, looking up at you with puppy eyes while humming and moving his tongue around your sex... yeah, he's a tease.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Fuck, Ken's loud. He learned to tone it down a bit by muffling his sounds with his hand, but he continues to be a loud moaner. He whines and groans a lot, too... calling your name while being super vocal. "Oh, my... yes. Yes, (Y/N). Please don't stop, ah..."

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Ken still gets emotional every time you make love, holding your face while kissing you deeply, your bodies moving in tandem feeling so good he could cry. He probably did cry the first time, but now he holds back trying to not seem too sappy.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants.)

I MEAN... hear me out. I think he's pretty damn hot, like... maybe around 7 inches? And like, girthy as well LOL He's a dooooll he has to have a pretty perfect dick, right??? (don't look at me)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Again, not really high before you came around. Now he thinks about sex all the time, looking for excuses to be alone with you and get his hands all over your body.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Ken would make sure you were fine (and had finished), do some aftercare if needed and then he would fall asleep rather quickly, rolling over into a little spoon so you could hold him. In your arms, he feels safe and sound.

—

#ken #ken x reader #ken x gn reader #ken x you #alphabet #barbie #ryan gosling #gender neutral #headcanon #imagine #self insert #y/n #fanfic #fanfiction #notyourhetloki

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paradoxbeta · 2 months

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WHO IS EOC? i am very curious now!!!

>:) okay SO

tumblr picture formatting is utter garbage and i dont want these to take up too much space so im cramming these drawings into one row (or not if this crapsite breaks on me, because it seems to be REALLY fighting me on this, so if it ends up not making a nice little picture row know that i tried my best). but this is effigy of composure!

he has a couple problems, but the big one is that his superstructure has a terrible parasite situation. the parasites are flat, thin, and able to make it into grooves and pipes the inspectors cant reach. flushing out doesnt do much to dislodge them and they breed faster than they can be killed, so theyve happily made their homes in this sheltered, food-rich haven (to the obvious distress and horror of the host iterator). originally the concept for these parasites were much closer to centipedes and had the placeholder name "synapcipedes," but ive since started leaning more towards an obvious tapeworm motif for them because its gross and i enjoy it morbidly. it also has some pretty cursed implications if you think about it for too long which i have decided are funny/really disgusting/so stupid that they have to stay. i still flipflop between considering them centipedes vs tapeworms though and i dont think thatll ever be rigidly defined. the ambiguity is nice to toy with

on the top 10 list of "things that are not fun" having turbo worms has to be somewhere up there, so eoc has it *rough,* and kind of sort of eventually barrels off into the deep end because of it. his futile attempts to clean his own structure are frustrating enough, and the constant feeling of bugs crawling all over the inside of his body (which only gets progressively worse with time) does no favors either. however, the real big reason why he mentally declines is just because there's a ton of centi-worm things eating like fire through his neurons and other what-have-yous that iterators need to think and function. i think if he only got hit with one of these 3 things then he might have been able to hang onto his sanity, but with the triple combo he doesn't really stand a chance of doing much except stalling his functional death. which is good on him because if i was an iterator and my overseers told me i had a structure infestation, my mental health would have just preemptively swan dived off a bridge before anything even happened

anyhow, exponential parasite population growth meant exponential increase in all this other fun stuff, which means the time from the beginning of the infection to the time eoc is considered officially gone is startlingly short (for iterators, at least). it still took quite the while because losing your marbles is a loonnnng process, but still, yikes. its unfortunate because eoc was a real jokester pre-everything, and a cool guy to talk to. he was one of those people who could come up witty comments for anything like hed been ripped from the script of a sitcom. oh yeah, also, should have mentioned this earlier, but he ends up accidentally amassing a scavenger cult mid-insanity which goes hilariously bad because he's barely aware it's happening. nothing really works out for this poor iterator.

tldr: eoc gets parasites, they erode his brain, he goes nuts about it, (accidentally amasses a cult,) dies

#thank you for asking!#oc: eoc #rainworld #my art #ask #tw parasites #his complexity rating is low because he loses personality during/after the whole insanity thing #and also because he really only existed as the crux for the scavenger cult until recently #he became more of a character and less of a background plot device #why is the readmore broken wtf

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cottoncandy-cult · 20 days

Text

Yami Sukehiro X Pregnant Wife! Reader

(Y/n) sighed softly, hand rubbing her swollen belly as she made her way down the stone halls of the black bull's base. Her back was aching, the baby was do in a months time and she couldn't wait for all this pressure inside of her to be released. "Hey (Y/n), you ok? Do you need help down the stairs?" Asta had come around the corner, noticing the heavily pregnant woman and her obvious discomfort. "No thanks, Henry put those handrails up so I should be fine. I just can't keep laying in bed, my back is so tense." She had her free hand on her hip, trying to arch her back some to relieve it as she walked. "If you say so, I know you aren't supposed to take real baths when you're like that but maybe Captain Yami knows something that could help. He has been reading a lot when he goes to the bathroom, he has like a parenting book in each stall." Asta chuckled, smiling when he saw his captain's wife started to giggle. As unserious as the captain could be, Yami had been doing his best to prepare. He wasn't necessarily easily embarrassed, just naturally private about certain things. "He should be back from the captain's meeting at the capital soon, Fenral went with him so it shouldn't be long now." Asta continued on his way, the woman smiling with a nod and thanks before making her way down the steps towards the kitchen.

She was really wanting a banana muffin; she didn't want nuts in it though. Just a nice, soft and fluffy banana muffin. The thought had her belly rumbling, her waddled steps getting faster. "Hey Charmy, can we have muffins? I could really use something banana." When she approached the couch Magna was quick to stand and help her sit, being as devoted to her husband as he was Magna took great care of his captain's wife in his absence. "Coming up! I was just craving something sweet!" Charmy was quick to gather the sheep cooks, though it was clear banana muffins weren't the only things on the menu. To distract herself from her growing hunger, (Y/n) settled on a nice cool glass of milk. Before long Charmy had laid out several baked goods, while she had originally only been craving banana muffins the site of glazed honey banana buns had her mouth watering. That was where she was when Yami found her, her legs swinging happily in her seat as she ate a baked apple cinnamon roll. She had been going down the line, trying one of everything she could. Refilling her milk when needed, she happily enjoyed the warm and soft desserts.

"This looks good, you enjoying yourself darlin?" Yami sat next to her, kissing her cheek in greeting as he put out his cigarette. (Y/n) nodded with her mouth full, her cheeks full of soft goodness. Swallowing her bite, she looked up at her husband, wide smile on her face. "You've gotta try some of this, the cinnamon banana bread is so good." She took a drink of her milk once more, watching as Yami smiled at her from the corner of her eye. "Yeah? I guess I could use a snack before dinner." He took her advice and grabbed some of the bread, taking a bite of it with a soft hum. "Yeah, it's pretty good. I've tried something like this from the bar I drink at in the capital sometimes, but theirs is pretty dry." He tapped his fingers on the table, Vannessa happily fixing him a drink as she snacked on a cupcake. They all often took snack breaks together, it would normally start with one or two of them but then it would slowly grow as conversations were had. Yami had slipped an arm around his wife's waist, large hand sprawling across her stomach to feel the pressure of their child against his palm. He was always quietly affectionate with her; he was never obscene with it, but he never failed to make their relationship and his own feelings known.

His ring never came off his finger, she had heard from Magna how Yami put off gambling and worked more to buy their rings and pay for the wedding. That conversation had killed any anxiety she had about their engagement and their next big step in life. Her own hand came to rest over his, gently squeezing as she finished her current snack and snuggled up to him. Giggling as some of the younger squad members playfully gagged over their display, Yami simply rolling his eyes as he took another bite of his bread. "Julius wanted me to give you somethin' for the baby, he was out wizard watching again and saw this weird little stuffed animal and thought it was cute for some reason." Yami pulled out a stuffed animal, it was an odd amalgamation of animals. An otter body, a beaver tail, webbed feet and duck bill. The look of it had (Y/n) laughing, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as her eyes shut. "He is so ugly oh my god." She shakily took the stuffed animal, flipping it around to look it over though her giggles never stopped. "He is so ugly it's almost cute, where do you even come up with something like this? I didn't know alcoholics could sew." That comment made her husband snort, chuckling to himself as he shook his head. He did admit that the stuffed animal was quite odd, Julius in general had a very particular taste in items if William's mask was anything to go buy. "You know Julius, he somehow manages to find the most outlandish items… when he isn't making them himself." He sipped his beer, running his hand through her hair as she continued to look over the stuffed animal with a curious stare. "Can't say he isn't original…"

"I'm gonna go put this in the nursery so it doesn't get lost, if I eat too much more, I won't have room for lunch." She says this while picking up chocolate chip banana muffin, waddling her way to the steps as Yami watched her with a chuckle. Of course he stood to follow, finishing his drink and popping a whole muffin in his mouth. He wanted to enjoy his time with her today since it was interrupted by a captains meeting, so he followed her up to the nursery and made sure she didn't lose her balance on the steps. Until finally he leaned against the door frame, watching her place the stuffed animal on top of a small dresser that already had several on top of it. "Just one more month, you ready to pop yet?" Yami chuckled, walking in as he wrapped his arms around her waist and her own arms came to rest over his. "Mhm, I feel like I have a boulder in my body, my back aches and I have to pee all the time." She sighed softly and tilted her head back, closing her eyes as he shifted slightly to gently lift her belly with his large hands. Relief flooded her features as she hummed softly and gently squeezed his hand, she loved when he did this as it was one of the few times she felt relief these days. "I see, gives us another reason to count down the days then huh?" His thumbs stroked the curve of her stomach as he supported her body with ease, he used to work out just to get her attention and feed his ego, but it was really paying off now. "I'm kinda scared to be honest, if this baby is anything like you it's gonna be a giant." She giggled, her thumb stroking the top of his hand. As the wife of a magic knight captain, she knew her baby would be delivered by an experienced doctor, but she just knew by how heavy the baby set in her stomach that this was gonna be one hell of a birth. "I mean, at least we know the baby is gonna be healthy? Everything will be ok, the doctors aren't gonna let you suffer." Yami kissed the top of her head, having already gone over the procedure with Owen several times and so he knew there were things for pain she'd be given to reduce the stress on her and the baby. "I know, I trust Owen. I just know it's gonna wreck my body and I'm not excited for it." She sighed softly, turning her head to nuzzle the side of his neck.

"Yeah, can't blame you there. But once this baby is out, all you'll have to do is lay back and we'll handle the rest. I mean, you'll still need to nurse the baby, but we'll make sure you have time to rest." Yami pressed a kiss to her forehead, doing his best to soothe her anxiety. "I know you all will, we're the black bulls after all and we take care of each other." (Y/n) responded with a smile, she had confidence in her squad and knew she'd simply have to have faith. "You wanna go sit outside for a bit until lunch, the weather is nice, and the fresh air will do you good. You've been couped up inside all day." He swayed softly, basking in her natural body heat and breathing in her scent. He had his own anxiety about the birth, but he knew he'd just have to have faith that everything would work out. "Sure, the breeze through the window has felt nice all day. I wanna see how the garden is doing." Yami carefully lowered her belly, moving to lift her up into his arms as he carries her out the room. (Y/n) would get embarrassed at first when he would do this type of thing, but now she was just glad to snuggle with him and be off her feet without being stuck in bed. He brought her out back to the garden, sitting in a chair in the center of the garden and resting her on his lap. She sat across his legs, leaning against his chest as she lifted her head to look over the colorful flowers. One of her husband's large hands rubbed her back, large fingertips gently pressing into her muscles and rubbing out the tension as best he could.

He couldn't have her lay face down for a proper back massage, so he had to settle for trying to rub her back when she was sitting up. "Charmy has done really good at taking care of the flowers, all that experience growing fruits and veggies must really pay off for her." (Y/n) spoke with a smile, she loved her garden but once she got a bit deeper into pregnancy, she couldn't care for it the way she would have liked so she had to ask Charmy to take care of it until she was able to get back out there. "Yeah, she's pretty good in the garden and kitchen. We really lucked out with the variety in this squad." Yami chuckled, leaning against the back of the seat as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. A soft warm breeze flowed past them, the sweet scent of the flowers carried on the wind and reinforced the calming scene around them. Yami never expected any of this, he had never thought much on love until his wife came into his life. Now here he was, married with a baby on the way and a squad of misfits that would always have his back. Life was turning out better than he expected, and he wasn't about to let this kind of peace slip through his fingers any time soon.

#candy cult vault #fluff #x reader #fem reader #black clover x reader #black clover #yami sukehiro #yami x reader #yami x fem reader #x pregnant reader #x wife reader

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accidentalshifter · 3 months

Text

Writing fanfiction is a gateway to shifting, I swear!

Before working on "Dawn Misplaced," my Originals/TVD fanfiction project, I didn't dream of characters breaking the fourth wall or know it was possible to interact with them within my sleep... And I certainly didn't think it was real that another version of me could exist in a fictional world much less this Universe! OK I did. But, I figured there were huge margins of separation between me & myselves. And I figured that it was "more logical" to assume that what I was really doing was ✨️ using my imagination to combat a deep sense of inner loneliness ✨️ with extra steps involved. The dream worlds I'm used to exploring seemed way easier to explain. They were metaphors for psychological forces or archetypes in my psyche. Not real. Not truly.

That idea has recently changed. It's real. It's all real. At least, it's very real to me. Antis get fucked.

When Netflix (*hiss*) removed The Originals from their selection, I lost interest in writing Dawn Misplaced, tried to move onto another endeavor, and put vampires out of my head. Tried. Apparently, my imagination had other plans. I started having weird, vivid dreams of being a character within The Originals-verse. Despite resisting these dreams, they ramped up, becoming much stronger, until they were leaking over into my waking life as intrusive daydreams. Sometimes, they lasted for just a second. Other times? It felt like hours had gone by even though it'd only been minutes in my CR. These daydreams felt like tugs on my brain from somewhere I couldn't explain.

Who is tugging on the other side is still very much unknown. Maybe it's my DR-self? Idk.

Half a year has passed doing my damnest to deny the pull. After all, I had my own dreams to play in!! And the (theoretical) Mikaelsons have plenty of shifters on their payroll... Why the hell would they want one more shifter???

Especially someone like me:

✅️ 35 years old

✅️ no money

✅️ no prospects

✅️ a burden to my family

✅️ frightened

No accounting for their taste but six months and countless intrusive daydreams later and I am FED UP with taking a passive stance on this. I've decided to treat this like any other dream world I explore and get to the bottom of these tugs! And possibly fist fight the one who's responsible for them. Before I do that though, I want to make a list of all the "mini shifts" or intrusive dreams that I've had since this ordeal started. Thinking back on them, I can see a disconnect between the dreams I'd have when I was asleep vs. daydreams I have when I'm awake. Tw: this list of scenarios are NOT for those uncomfortable with violence, blood, death, or manipulation. My version of the Mikaelsons don't play nice in my dreams.

Asleep dreams: Seem to play out as if I'm in the body of a character within The Originals and important to the plot somehow.

Awake dreams: Seem to play out as if I'm an invisible ghost of my CR self just watching things unfold around me while being unable to communicate or be seen by anyone.

List of TVD/Original-verse Minishifts (Part 1)

⚜️ Walking down the main staircase of the Mikaelson mansion (the one way out in the country) while hearing arguing voices. I see Hayley first. She's eating a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios nonchalantly. Rebekah is on her phone, swipping left on an app. When I get half-way down the staircase, Elijah and Klaus (the ones who are arguing) stop their bickering to drag me into it. Elijah turns to me, asking: "You agree with me, don't you?". Klaus makes a sarcastic face & asks "Surely you won't agree with my *morally tiresome* older brother?" At this point, I become lucid inside the body of this person I'm in. I pause for a second before responding, "Uh, maybe, I don't know??". Elijah looks at me weirdly at that reply. [Asleep]

⚜️ I wake up in a bed I don't recognize. It's a four-poster bed, carved out of polished dark cherry wood. The sheets smell clean & feel good to the touch. Morning light is pouring through a window. It's warm on my skin. I'm groggy as the body I'm in slides out of bed & stumbles over to the window to peer out of it. I can see an apple orchard and a driveway running straight through it. I notice how red the apples are, fixating on that for whatever reason. As soon as I do, I hear a sort of wind noise. Like an errant breeze just ran through the room. Elijah's voice drifts into my ear but I don't catch what he said. My body turns to face him, I feel my mouth moving. I'm saying something. I can't hear what I'm saying, tho. [Asleep]

⚜️ Kieran is kneeling at the foot of the altar inside St. Anne's. The heavy smoke of bitter incense clouds the air, wreathing around the priest as he mutters prayer after prayer. I'm not inside a body this time. I'm nowhere. It's like I'm viewing this scene remotely in a 3rd person perspective. The candles burning at the memorial altar in the alcove flicker, their flame suddenly growing huge. Whispers are heard all around. I hear Father Kieran reply to them, "Yes, I understand." [Asleep]

⚜️ "Now, Elijah, we've tried mercy and peace and leniency, but these witches are officially out of control-" I hear Klaus ranting before I gain my senses. I'm back inside whoever it is I'm possessing (?) standing in the kitchen of the Mikaelson mansion while Elijah & Klaus are arguing. Again. Rebekah makes a snarky comment about Klaus and how his tolerance policy usually involves a dagger, so she's on the side of the witches. Klaus snarls, pulling up the long sleeves of his shirt to display his arm. It's covered in a weird tattoo that seems to be growing, crawling towards his chest, & neck. It almost looks alive. "We have to think about this sensibly, Niklaus," Elijah says. And Klaus, in turn, snaps that's it's a little hard to think about anything but dead witches with this curse on his arm. I begin to speak. But, I wake up in my CR a second later. [Asleep]

⚜️ Again, I'm walking down the staircase. It seems like that's where I become lucid in my dreams the most. The mansion is silent, too silent. Maybe everyone is gone?? The minute that thought crosses *my mind*, I sense the air shift and feel the body I'm possessing get slammed hard into a wall. Even in the dream, it hurts. I look up to see the livid, pissed-off face of Niklaus Mikaelson. The tattoo on his arm has progressed. I can see it peeking out from behind the material of his V-neck shirt, nearest towards his collar bone. He tips my chin up with one finger while his other hand pins me to the wall of a secluded hallway I've never seen before. "You...haven't been honest," Niklaus says to me in a voice that's nearly a seductive purr. Well, it would be if it weren't so bloody fucking terrifying. "You've been keeping a secret from me and Elijah..." The body I'm possessing is going crazy with panic and adrenaline. I can feel my (?) heart pounding. It's distracting me from focusing fully on Klaus & his paranoid rant. He seems to realize this, tightening his grip on me. His voice is a threatening snarl when he speaks now. "You think you can just run off to your little world any time you want, don't you?! I don't think you understand-" And to be real honest, I don't, because I immediately woke up in my CR before I let Klaus finish his rant. [Asleep]

#desired reality #shifters #shifting #shifting blog #tvd shifting #tvd universe #shifting community #shiftblr #shifting realities #shifting stories #reality shifting #tvd dr #shifting to tvd #reality shifter #shifting diary #reality shift #mini shift #shifting to tvd is great until you have to deal with Niklaus

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

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𝙼𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽𝚂 - chapter 6: manic monday.

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 - eddie tags along for a day in the life of a real adult: college, then work. and later, he lets you tag along for a night in the life of a starving artist.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 5.8k

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 - sexual conversation/talking about sex acts, more deceased parent discussions, vague description/mention of nude pictures, drug use mentions, really just fluff

Things were different after that— quieter. Part of you couldn’t help but imagine it was the calm before the storm; mostly, you hoped it was the beginning of a new phase in your relationship with Eddie. That phase being tolerance, maybe even a hint of friendliness.

You decided not to bring up what happened in Eddie’s van on the way home from school that day… because nothing actually happened. How do you talk about something that didn’t even happen, anyways? You could talk about what almost happened, if you actually were sure what that was. It felt like, for a second, you were about to kiss— but every time you thought about it again, you convinced yourself that you were just misreading things. Because he would never— and you would never—

You heard the door shut and straightened up, as if you were about to get caught, but on the outside all you were doing was eating your cereal.

“Morning,” Eddie greeted as he sauntered into the kitchen, shirtless and rubbing his eyes with his fist. With a mouthful of Grape-Nuts, all you could offer was a quick nod in his direction.

It was dark for how late it was in the morning, since it was overcast outside, and the whole kitchen was a bit gray as a result. Eddie stood out in some way, seeming to be more colorful and lively than everything else— but then again, he was the only living thing you were looking at, except for technically the daisies on the counter in the white ceramic vase. Wayne had started bringing your mom flowers as often as he could get away with, and she kept them in the kitchen. See how they just brighten everything up? she’d beam as she finished arranging them for display on the bar. And you loved the way she smiled at them and tilted her head while she fluffed the petals up again.

Eddie was like that— he brightened up everything. Even if he drove you up the wall sometimes, you could at least appreciate that.

He stood in the middle of the floor for a second, glancing around.

“Where’s your mom?” he wondered.

“She had an errand to run,” you recalled, “something with… taxes… or something…”

He snorted. “Grown-up stuff,” he shrugged.

“Yep,” you agreed.

“What are you eating?” he asked. You had to swallow another bite to answer.

“Grape-Nuts,” you replied, and he grimaced.

“You can eat that stuff?” He shuddered when you nodded. “You’re tougher than me. I need my Lucky Charms— gives me my luck and my charm.”

You smirked a little and looked down at your bowl, stirring what was left around with the tip of your spoon. You looked at him again when he reached up to the top shelf of the pantry to get the box of cereal— and as he did, you could finally make out the name on his ribs: Barbara. "Who is she?" you blurted out.

"Huh?"

You pointed to his ribcage, and he looked down as if he forgot he had the tattoo there.

"Oh— that's my mom. Barbara Rose Broussard."

You felt guilty for almost being jealous before, having assumed it was a former lover or something. "That's a nice way to remember her."

"I've got this for her, too," he explained as he extended his left arm out to you, showing you the long-stemmed rose inked into the skin there, extending from the inside of his elbow to about halfway down his forearm. The pointed end of the stem reminded you of a needle; it was nestled right over the vein, too, and you wondered if that was intentional.

"I wish I had your pain tolerance," you smiled. "Then again, I think the best thing I could do to honor my dad is not get any tattoos. Or piercings. Or boyfriends. Ever."

Eddie snorted, grabbing the cereal and sitting down with the box at the table. "He was strict, huh?"

"Sort of."

"No wonder you're such a goody two-shoes," he smirked, shoving his hand straight in and shoveling the chex and marshmallows into his mouth by the fistful. "Still daddy's little girl, huh?"

“Aren’t you gonna use a bowl? And a spoon?” you sneered. “And milk?”

“Answer my question first,” he insisted.

You chewed your lip for a second. "I guess so."

He kept smiling at you. "I don’t like milk. And I’m using nature’s spoons.”

“Nature’s unwashed, disease-ridden spoons,” you mumbled, sighing.

“Hey, they’re washed,” he defended just as he shoved his forearm back into the box, the motion accompanied by the loud crinkling of plastic and the rustling of the cereal. “Think I’m walkin’ around with dirty hands?”

“Probably,” you raised an eyebrow.

“Nope,” he denied. “Just a dirty mind.”

He winked at you just before he tossed back another handful of cereal, and you cleared your throat as you looked down at your own bowl, now empty. "U-um, so, there's no school today, right?"

"Not for me," he smiled, "but you've got classes, right?"

"Just one," you corrected, "and then work."

"Take me with you, please? I'm gonna be so fucking bored today."

“Bored?” you repeated incredulously. “Figured you’d be planning your campaign or jamming with the band.”

“Jeff, robotics camp, remember?” he prompted.

“Right,” you nodded. “I mean, I guess it would be kinda fucked up to make you drive me but then not let you come…”

He perked up.

“So I’ll take the bus,” you finished.

“Pleeeeeaase?” he whined. “I mean, don’t you think I could use the education?”

It wasn’t a bad argument, actually; you glanced to the side. “Well, my class is having a field day,” you remembered, chewing your lip as you considered it.

“They have field day in college?” he asked excitedly.

“No, like, my photography class is going in the field to take pictures,” you explained.

“Which field?”

“Not a literal field, Eddie,” you sighed, “we’re just going outside.”

It was exactly one hour later that he made you eat those words while you held your camera and watched your fellow classmates step through the tall grass in search of their perfect shot.

“I dunno, this looks like a field to me,” he noticed as he raised his arms, gesturing to the wide open clearing that Professor Hill had brought you all to.

“I didn’t think he’d actually make us photograph somewhere like this,” you defended, speaking quietly in case the professor heard you questioning his methods.

It was hot out— those ruthless Indiana summers were just around the corner— and you wiped your forehead with the back of your hand as you searched for something worthy of your camera’s attention. In a landscape as empty as this, there wasn’t much to focus on… and whatever there was had already been snatched up by your classmates, and you were still hoping to come up with something original to shoot.

Eddie said he would help you look, too, but he had no idea what to look for. In a couple minutes he seemed to be in his own daydream anyways, smiling to himself, swinging his legs a bit as he walked. And then he was going in a big circle, trying to step in the exact same shoe print he’d left the last time around, making psh, psh sounds every time he placed his foot on the grass. You rolled your eyes and ignored him, finding a torn leaf on the ground and reluctantly squaring up your camera to shoot it— no, it was hardly worth the film it would waste, but it was something.

You both turned when you heard someone coming up towards you, seeing your professor approaching Eddie; you stood up straight.

“You must be Edward,” Professor Hill smiled, extending a hand towards Eddie, who shook it eagerly.

“I knew it, she talks about me all the time,” Eddie joked with a grin.

“You were an excellent subject for her photograph series— such an expressive face!”

Eddie froze when the professor suddenly grabbed his face, leaning in closely and staring at him.

“These eyes!” he exclaimed. "Like a turbulent storm on the sea at golden hour! It's like I can see your troubled past, your hopes and dreams, just by looking into them!"

Eddie smiled nervously as he glanced at you. "Is he always like this?"

You laughed and shrugged. Eddie breathed a sigh of relief as the professor let him go and stepped back. “A talented young photographer and a natural muse! What a perfect couple you make,” Professor Hill smiled coyly.

You and Eddie simultaneously began awkwardly laughing and stammering through several replies.

"Oh— we're not—" Eddie started.

"No, nonono," you choked.

"It's not like that," Eddie assured.

"Technically we're related!" you continued.

"Except not actually," he jumped in.

"But we aren't—" you continued.

"I mean, her?" Eddie scoffed. "Never."

"He's— he's a freak!" you rushed.

You couldn't be sure how much of that Professor Hill had actually understood, considering you'd said it all at once, but he raised his hands up in relent. "Okay, okay! You're not a couple! Got it."

As the professor turned on his heel and walked away to check on other students, you chewed your lip and Eddie played mindlessly with his hair.

"Let's, uh, find something to take some pictures of," you suggested, and Eddie nodded.

You both trudged through the grass as you looked for inspiration— all the grass and trees seemed the same, you weren't sure where to start. It was probably some weird challenge that Professor Hill had come up with, to find inspiration in as bland a place as this.

"Heeeeeyyy, check this out," Eddie announced after a few minutes of searching with a grin, "these grasshoppers are totally doing it!"

You glanced where he was pointing in the grass to see two bright green insects on a stalk of grass together, joined at the end, and you grimaced. "Real mature," you sighed.

"You should take a picture of this," he suggested.

"Yeah, I think I can do a little better than bug fucking."

George appeared suddenly, leaning in to speak softly to the two of you. "You know, the female will eat the male after they're done mating."

"Thanks for the tidbit, George," Eddie offered sarcastically, shuddering as the other man disappeared to get back to his own photography.

"That's funny," you smirked, "'cause in the human world, the female is lucky if the male eats her at all."

Eddie cleared his throat, and when you looked at him, he was looking a little flushed. Maybe it was just the heat? Sweat was making his hair stick to his forehead, after all— but maybe you finally got to him. You smiled proudly to yourself at the thought.

“Niiice,” Eddie crooned with a nod when he saw you in your work uniform for the first time. It was just a red vest with a nametag, but it still managed to be the most unflattering thing any person could wear, and you crossed your arms self-consciously as you frowned.

“I don’t even know why they make me wear this thing, I’m almost never at the counter.”

“Where are you usually?” he asked.

“The darkroom,” you explained, “but today I’m covering the register for a half hour until Kevin gets here.”

“Kevin, your coworker?”

“No, Kevin the President of Zimbabwe— yes, he’s my coworker,” you sighed, unlocking the register and opening the tray, counting the money before you officially clocked in.

Of course, you weren’t exactly supposed to have friends (or step-family) loitering around the counter with you when you were working— and the darkroom was strictly employees only. But you let him do both, because it was a slow day and it turns out people are willing to pay to have their pictures developed whether or not some weird kid is sitting on the back counter, swinging his feet and eating candy he took from the shelves and didn’t pay for.

The first customer wanted a whole roll of film in eight-by-tens— her son’s birthday party; the second was a professional turning in wedding photos. Then there was a half hour of nothing, and you read your book while Eddie threw Red Hots in the air to try to catch them in his mouth.

You glanced up from your book, watching him open his mouth wide and lean to the side only for the candy to hit his cheek and land on the dark green carpet. “You look ridiculous,” you mumbled to him as you shook your head.

“You want one?” he offered, holding his hand up like he was about to throw it at you— you ducked instinctively even though he never let go of it.

“No,” you frowned, making him shrug and toss the candy up for himself (and he caught it that time). “Didn’t you want to come with me so you wouldn’t be bored at home?”

“Yeah,” he answered flatly as he chewed on the candy— his teeth were starting to turn red.

“How’s that working out for you?” you asked sarcastically, but his answer was totally genuine.

“Great!” he beamed.

“How?!” you yelped. “We’re not even doing anything.”

He shrugged again. “We don’t have to.”

You didn’t quite know what he meant by that, but thankfully your time at the counter ended just ten minutes later, after one more customer came in to pick up their prints that had been developed yesterday. That was when you got to properly break the rules and show Eddie the darkroom.

“Woah,” he noticed as he walked in behind you. “Kinda spooky in here.”

“You get used to it,” you assured.

“I know this is a stupid thing to say but, uh,” he said as he looked around, “it’s really dark.”

“Yeah, it’s stupid,” you agreed, “but I get what you mean.”

You were already setting up the chemical bins while he was still exploring, though there really wasn’t much to see. There wasn't anywhere to go either, the small room was really meant for just one person at a time. It wasn’t awkwardly cramped, except when Eddie wanted to see what you were working on and had to squeeze between the two tables of bins— forcing him to press up to your back to fit. “So, what’s all this?” he asked quietly.

“Well, this is the developer,” you explained as you motioned to one bin filled with semi-clear liquid, pointing at each one as you went, “that’s the soft bath, aaaaand that’s fixer.”

“Cool, cool,” he nodded thoughtfully. “And, what does that mean?”

You snorted. “You put the blank picture in the developer, and that makes it start, well, developing. You put it in the stop bath to make it stop so it doesn’t over develop. And the fixer sort of, like, seals it so it won’t be affected by light anymore— once it dries, that is.”

“Okay, that actually makes some sense,” Eddie agreed.

“So, we’re gonna pop open all these canisters and load the film onto the reel,” you explained.

“Then what?”

“Then,” you continued, sighing slightly as you exerted some force on the plastic containers to get the film out, “that goes in that tank.”

Eddie looked at where you were motioning with your head.

“And after that, well, you’ll see,” you decided, tiring of the explanations.

He leaned in over you to get a closer look at the strip of negatives as you unraveled it. You turned and stared at his profile for a second; by the dark red light, Eddie looked different— it seemed to show off the angle of his jaw more, but you couldn’t see the color of his eyes like usual.

“It’s kinda crazy,” he noticed, “you get to have a glimpse into these people’s lives, you get to make their moments last forever.”

“Taking the picture makes it last forever,” you corrected. “I’m just the one that makes it look decent.”

You couldn’t see details while the negatives were this small, but when you leaned in close, you could get the gist— a kid in a bathing suit with floaties on their arms, a dog running through the sprinklers.

It all looked pretty typical, so you loaded it onto the reel and opened the next canister.

“What kind of weird stuff do you see come through here?” he wondered.

“I mean, mostly it’s just—”

"Somebody's mom's homemade Playboy shots?" he assumed with a laugh.

You sighed. "You joke, but that's a lot of my job."

"Nice," he grinned.

"Not at all," you rolled your eyes. "If people wanna take dirty pictures, can't they have the decency to do it on instant film?"

"Hey, you've got a Land camera," he remembered with a grin, "you ever taken any little naughties on that?"

"Of course not," you scoffed. "Do I seem like someone who would do that?"

"No, that's why it would be hotter if you did," he explained. "It's never the ones you expect, anyway."

"How would you know?" you challenged. "Nobody's ever given you one, have they?"

"Well, no…"

As he trailed off, you smiled and held up a strip of film, dangling it in the air. "I think we've got a live one here, if you wanna take a peek," you offered.

He should've known not to fall for that. "Oh god!” he grimaced as soon as he leaned in to look at the negatives. “So much hair!"

"This guy is relentless," you laughed. "I can't tell if someone else is taking them for him or if he sets up a timer or what, but he has a roll of film developed almost monthly— and they’re all like this.”

“So he comes here and makes some innocent college kid develop his full frontal shots?” Eddie realized. “That’s messed up. Get your ya-ya’s however you want, but don't inflict it on the poor employees of the Rite Aid photo counter…"

“Oh look! He’s doing lunges in this one,” you tried to move the negative closer to his face, but Eddie tilted his chin up and looked at the ceiling.

“I’m already scarred for life, thanks.”

“Just wait til the ones where he bends over and—”

“AAAHH,” Eddie yelled and plugged his ears with his fingers.

“Okay, okay! I’m loading it on the reel, you’re safe,” you promised, and he calmed down. “I didn’t know you were so squeamish.”

“Listen, there are worse things to look at than a naked dude,” Eddie decided, crossing his arms, “but I guess I forgot that it’s not only good-looking people who take pictures of themselves in the buff.”

“It… very rarely is,” you promised. “I guess if you’re someone people want to see naked, you don’t need to do DIY nudie shoots. You can have them done by the professionals.”

“Well, if you ever feel like switching careers, that probably pays better than this,” Eddie offered, and you chuckled awkwardly.

“I’ll stay on this side of the camera, thanks,” you decided, “and I don’t think there would be much of an audience for that.”

“C’mon, would you quit saying stuff like that?” he groaned. “I don’t know if chicks think pretending not to know they’re hot is attractive or something—”

“Eddie, I’m not pretending,” you insisted, “I’m not— I don’t look like that.”

“Like a porn star? No, you don’t,” he laughed, “that doesn’t mean you’re not hot.”

“Isn’t that what every guy really wants, though?” you shrugged.

“I mean, I would be remiss to speak for every guy… but I think most guys just want a normal girl— you know, pretty, but real,” he explained. “The perfect girl doesn’t look like a porn star… she just acts like one.”

You snorted; “So, she fucks the pizza boy?”

“So you have seen porn!”

“What?! I—” you stammered. “I’ve just heard about it.”

“Uh huh, sure,” he replied disbelievingly. “You never rented a dirty movie?”

“Not even once,” you shook your head.

“Never even saw one somebody else rented?”

“Why are we talking about this?”

“I knew it!” he clapped his hand, making you jump. “You’re not that innocent.”

“I never said I was innocent,” you shrugged, suddenly feeling more aware of Eddie standing just behind you.

“Did you watch it at a sleepover or something?” he interrogated.

“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes, “me and my five hottest friends all got together and watched it in our skimpy little PJ’s, then we had a pillow fight and the losing team had to make out with each other as punishment.”

“My brain knows you’re being sarcastic,” he sighed, “but my heart wants to believe you so much.”

You just laughed and loaded up another reel for the tank.

“And my dick already believes you.”

“Ew! Eddie, I don’t wanna know anything about your dick,” you lied.

“So, what’s the real story?” he wondered. “Gary talked you into watching it, didn’t he?”

You nodded, more focused on the work you were trying to get done.

“Babysitter and pizza delivery boy?” he continued.

“Actually, she was just a regular college student,” you remembered.

“But she ordered it with extra sausage?”

“Yup.”

“And the pizza wasn’t the only thing that didn’t get eaten?” he assumed.

“No, she—”

“Not her,” he corrected, voice lowering slightly, “you.”

“That’s none of your business,” you snapped.

“You were talking about it before! With the grasshoppers!”

“Yeah, well, that’s only ‘cause George set me up,” you explained, “I don’t normally go advertising that kind of stuff.”

“I’m just saying, if Gary Thompson wasn’t absolutely horrible in bed, I’ll eat my shoe,” he announced.

“What makes you so sure?”

“Well, for one, he just has that look about him,” he listed, “and second off, you’re too uptight for me to believe somebody was givin’ it to you right.”

You sharply shot your elbow back into his gut, making him groan and keel over partially.

“Okay, okay, outta line,” he choked out an apology.

“Gary wasn’t bad,” you answered. “No, it wasn’t like the romance novels— I don’t think it’s ever like that, anyways— there weren’t, like, fireworks or anything… but he wasn’t bad. And you should go.”

“Aw, come on—” he began to protest.

“You can drive yourself home, and I’ll get a ride with Kevin.”

“Wait, please,” he whined, “I’m sorry— I shouldn’t have asked you personal stuff. I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you!” you said in that tone that made it impossible to believe. “You’re not supposed to be in here, it’s employees only— just leave now while the reels are in the tank and it’s still okay to open the door and let the light in—”

“I’m sorry,” he pouted, resting his chin on your shoulder, which made you freeze. “Don’t make me leave, please? We were having fun…”

“No, you were having fun,” you corrected, shutting the film tank a little more forcefully than you needed, “by pissing me off on purpose.”

“Okay, what’s your idea of having fun with me?” he asked.

You cleared your throat, because you didn’t like your first instinct when he asked that question. “I dunno,” you stalled, “me slapping you around for a while?”

“Mm, I can get into that,” he agreed lowly.

“See? You’re doing it again. I can’t even say anything around you ‘cause you make it weird.”

“It’s only ‘cause you set me up,” he returned, making you shiver slightly as he turned his face to speak into your ear— he was so close, you could almost feel his lips against your skin when he whispered: “I wish you wouldn’t pretend that you hate me.”

Though it took more bravery than you thought you had, you turned to look at him, too— and you’d never seen him this up close before. “I wish you wouldn’t pretend that it’s not obvious how I feel about you,” you challenged with a venomous smile.

But he just smiled back at you— much sweeter than your own. “Oh, it’s obvious,” he agreed.

Swallowing, you turned back to your work and he stood up straight again. You knew he wouldn’t leave unless you made him, and honestly, you just didn’t feel like it. You kept working, and he kept standing there.

“What… what do you do now?” he asked hesitantly after a couple minutes of silence, like he was afraid you’d kick him out if you remembered he was standing here.

“I put it in the developer, like I said,” you sighed; he was lucky that opening the door now would ruin the photos.

You let him stay, and thankfully he was much less irritating after that, simply watching you do your job and asking the occasional questions. He was even impressed when you hung the photos up to try and he could start to see the image coming through. “Wow, it just… shows up?”

You nodded.

“That’s cool.”

It might seem small, but someone giving half a fuck about your interest felt really nice. Most people could appreciate a decent photo, but nobody ever cared about the work that went into it, least of all working in a darkroom which you’d been told many times was terminally geeky.

Guess it takes someone with interests as uncool as metal and D&D to show some respect for photography.

“Thanks,” you said quietly.

The next day, when you came home from class (you’d gotten a ride from Pete, which you decided not to mention to Eddie), you heard the music coming from your room before you even shut the front door.

“All your life you had to stand in line, still you're standing on your feet,” you heard Eddie singing, not entirely on key as his acoustic guitar provided the chords. He started the line over, and hit the note this time: “All your life you had to stand in line, still you’re standing on your feet, all your choices made you change your mind…”

You tried to quietly shut the door so he wouldn’t hear you, and therefore wouldn’t stop, before delicately creeping up to the half-open door.

“Don't wait for answers, just take your chances, don't ask me why…”

There was a brief guitar interlude, a pretty good adaptation of what was originally a piano solo, and you set your backpack down on the ground slowly as you propped yourself up with one hand on the wall.

“You can say the human heart is only make believe, and I am only fighting fire with fire,” you heard his voice get a little louder as you leaned by the doorway, “but you are still a victim of the accidents you leave, sure as I’m a victim of a desire…”

You bit your lip, for some reason remembering when Eddie drove you home again, your heart twisting as you convinced yourself again that what you thought maybe might have happened wasn’t about to happen.

“Yesterday you were an only child,” he sang softly, “now your ghosts have gone away—”

You leaned the wrong way and the floorboard under the carpet creaked; you winced, hearing Eddie stop.

“You out there, sis?” he called to you.

“I still don’t want you to call me that,” you replied back in an awkward mumble, stepping into his view with your arms crossed.

“I know,” he smiled.

“That’s a good album,” you nodded. “Glass Houses— kinda nostalgic for me.” You smiled to yourself as you remembered being twelve and thinking you were so mature and subversive for knowing that Sometimes a Fantasy was about phone sex.

“Well, I noticed you own it,” he gestured to your records shelf, which was still overstuffed now that it had to accommodate his collection as well.

“Didn’t peg you for a Billy Joel fan, though,” you noticed.

“I mean, I dunno about fan, but I think his lyrics are kinda funny,” he smiled. “And this album is his best work— even though it’s far too quiet for my tastes. All for Leyna would rock so hard if it weren’t for all the keyboards.”

“Only you would complain about Billy Joel songs having too much piano,” you sighed and rolled your eyes. “Let me guess— Louis Armstrong should ditch the trumpet, too?”

“I didn’t know you knew Jonathan Byers,” Eddie blurted out suddenly, and you knitted your eyebrows together. “You mentioned him, when the Hellfire guys came over.”

“Right,” you hummed, wondering what made him bring that up now. “Well, it was a friendship borne of necessity. He was the only other photography geek at Hawkins High— he was a year behind me so we didn’t see each other that much, but yeah, we hung out.”

“So you weren’t very close?” he pressed, and you shook your head. “Well, that’s a shame— he seemed alright, I guess.”

“You knew him?”

“I mean, know is a strong word, but… I sold to him once or twice.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “You know, I think he told me that.”

“You never smoked with him?”

“No,” you answered.

“Darn,” he snapped his fingers, “would’ve been kinda funny if you smoked my stuff way back when. But it’s not too late—”

“Ed, I’m not a stoner,” you insisted.

“Right, right,” he relented, “I’m just saying, we could get high together sometime…”

“Together? That’s even worse,” you frowned.

“But you’re still coming to my show tonight, right?”

Yes, there was one part of that drive home you still talked about— when he invited you to see his band play. You took him up on it, because apparently you had some kind of self-destructive instinct and weren’t satisfied enough with the hearing damage you’d received just from hearing Eddie rehearse alone (when he was on the Warlock, that is; you didn’t mind the acoustic, hence your eavesdropping).

Unfortunately, catching a ride to the show with Eddie meant having to get there extra early for the set-up process. Poor Gareth seemed to have an infinite supply of drums he had to unload from his parents’ trunk; and Eddie just seemed to have way more pedals than you expected.

You got through two cranberry juices while they were still only getting ready— at a certain point you wondered if they were just trying to act like they were setting up to play, because how many cords do you need to unravel when there are only three electric instruments?! And then there was the tuning, dear god the tuning, it went on for ages. Did none of them think to tune before arriving?

Finally, Eddie tapped the microphone, and you sighed as you adjusted in the uncomfortable wooden chair. “Check one two, check one two… a Slovakian hooker and a Czech one too—”

You tried not to snort at that, because it wasn’t funny, but you were desperate for any sort of entertainment after waiting that long.

“Okay, uh, hi everybody,” Eddie greeted, still fiddling with his guitar’s dials as he spoke, the mic ringing with a touch of feedback at first. “We’re glad you could make it out…”

You looked around the ‘crowd’, which is a very generous word for six middle-aged men scattered around the tables, not even looking over their shoulders to see the band playing— plus you, right in the middle-front of the room, looking up at the ‘stage’, which is a very generous word for a half-step up covered in old dirty rugs.

“Anyways, uh…” Eddie cleared his throat. “This first song is about drugs!”

Although that got a couple people to clap semi-sarcastically, that was all the attention they got as they started to play. You recognized the lead guitar part as something Eddie had been working on for a while, but it sounded better with all the other instruments behind it. The bassist, Greg, was really good, too— not that any of them were bad, but he stood out considering you’d never heard him play before.

Gareth tried to spin his drumsticks a few times and always dropped them, which made you suppress a laugh; Jeff started to sweat when harder parts of the song were coming up.

Only Eddie looked completely in his element like this. The other three were working, but Eddie looked like he was oddly relaxed. Some of those songs, when he played them, seemed to take him somewhere else.

You dutifully clapped after each one finished, even offering the occasional half-hearted woo!, but it was more awkward when no one else was doing it.

“Okay, this is our last song,” he announced after they’d finished playing your favorite one so far, apparently titled Devil Woman and more literal than you expected with a name like that. Usually the women in songs were proverbial devils, but considering the line about what he wanted her to do with her long red tail, it seemed a little more than just a metaphor.

You were more disappointed than you expected to find out they were only playing six songs— but hopefully this final one would be a good cap to the night, and then you could go home and go to sleep.

“Well, this one’s actually not our song,” he admitted, “and it’s also not our style. Or our taste. At all.”

You quirked an eyebrow, but waited for more.

“But it goes out to the only person who’s here to see us and not just to get trashed,” Eddie finished his preamble. That was you, right? He was talking about you.

Gareth counted them off, and when Eddie and Jeff started playing the riff, you recognized it, but you couldn’t place it. Only when Eddie returned to the mic and started singing did you know what song they were playing.

“Friday night I crashed your party,” he sang with a little smirk on his face, “Saturday I said I’m sorry, Sunday came and trashed me out again…”

You know, if he’d asked first, you would’ve told him a Billy Joel cover by a crappy metal band would be horrible… but it actually almost worked? Funny enough, it engaged the rest of the crowd more than what they’d played before— which sort of made sense, considering the look of the patrons here.

“And you told me not to drive, but I made it home alive, and you said that only proves that I’m insane.”

Jeff had come up to the microphone to sing harmonizing vocals, and while he didn’t have a beautiful voice per se (let’s be real, neither did Eddie), they were both smiling and it just made you smile, too.

“Remember how I found you there, alone in your electric chair— I told you dirty jokes until you smiled,” he went on, “you were lonely for a man, I said take me as I am, ‘cause you might enjoy some madness for a while—”

You found yourself singing along under your breath, and bouncing your leg to the beat. You noticed some similar energy from the men at the bar, even the ones who had looked the most disinterested at first.

“If I’m crazy then it’s true, that it’s all because a’you, and you wouldn’t want me any other way…”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson series #stepbrother!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson slow burn

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musical-chan · 27 days

Text

Oops, I missed WIP Wednesday

But OH WELL! This is the start of my fic "Link and the Deity" which covers early moments after chapter 1 of Father Of Time!. I'll be releasing the first chapter on my birthday! May 17th!

***

The new house was a little creepy.

Link thought about going back to the forest to sleep. At least he had a bed there. But it was so exciting to have a house! To have someone tell him that they were his father and that they weren't going to leave. And he didn't really want to leave this place they had claimed, not yet. Not on the first day!

Out one of the windows, Link could see the deity gathering logs and branches from the ground around the house. Oh, a fire was a good idea, wasn't it? The nights were still cool and the house was probably really drafty. The boy eyed the old fireplace and took a look inside. Petrified remains of the last fire sat sadly in the firebox but when he glanced up the chimney, it was clear. That was some good luck! They could safely have a fire tonight.

For a moment, he spun around looking at the large room in the fading light. It was big and open and the far corner had an old, stone stove he had seen in other Hylian houses. They'd have to repair the bricks around it but the stone seemed in good condition. Link left dusty footprints on the floor as he inspected the counters and looked into the lower chamber where the fire would go; just an abandoned mouse nest amongst old logs. Anything wooden had been chewed on and would probably need to be replaced anyway.

As he wandered away from that corner, running a hand along the grimy walls, Link wondered about the people who lived there before, thinking about the things they had left behind and the absence of the items they didn't. Sure, there were old, ruined pieces of furniture here and there but not as much as there should be. Maybe they had moved out on their own instead of going off to die in the war. He would never really know, would he?

Suddenly Link's stomach grumbled. Oh man! How long had it been since he ate anything? He rummaged in his bag, pushing past the hookshot and the lens, old masks from Castle Town, the transformation masks from Termina, deku seeds and sticks, until he found his carefully hoarded supply of food. It was still late spring so there weren't many berries around yet but he usually had a cache of nuts for emergencies. A little digging found those and some dried meat that Talon had given him recently. Nice! And a few bottles of milk from Lon Lon. This was great! Lots of food.

When the deity came back inside, he found the boy on the dusty floor, sorting out his supplies into piles as he idly chewed on the meat. The god kept his eyes trained on his new child for a moment, unnoticed, then began making a fire in the large fireplace. Link looked up at the noises and shoved everything back into his bag with reckless abandon. By the time the fire was going, he had come over and was holding out a bottle of milk and a piece of dried meat.

"I bet you're hungry." The god stared and Link pushed the items at him gently. "You were a mask for a long time, right? You probably need to eat. Here."

The deity, crouched from his efforts with the fire, sat heavily. Many of his movements were slightly awkward, too weighty, as if he didn't realise the strength or effort involved in doing them. Link didn't remember the deity having those problems when he was wearing the mask but maybe having his real body back changed things. Always before it had been Link's body borrowing the deity's power and experience. He had been in charge, at least most of the time, and for those moments they had shared thoughts. Now that the deity was alone and had his real body back, surely the muscle memory would return. Link gently put the food into the god's hands then looked up into the white eyes.

"Eat, okay?"

"You…need food. Children need food."

#father of time fic #Link and the Deity #This thing is like 100% fluff I'm not even kidding #They're so cute together!#fierce dadity #Happy birthday to me! And also to anyone who enjoys this. <3

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reallyhardy · 7 months

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Loren, have you started watching Scott Pilgrim Takes Off!? I'm on episode 5 rn, interested in your thoughts if you have started watching

YES hello!

i thought it was brilliant! i loved the subversion of expectation (i mean i WOULD deffo have been happy to sit there any just watch The Story I Know yet again, but it was SO exciting when i realised they were doing something different.) i love love LOVED the animation, all the action sequences looked so fantastic, and... i loved the addition of the sparks ✨ i thought it was SO so cute. SPOILERSSSS below:

i thought will forte playing older/even older scott was a fantastic choice (channelling phil tandy miller from the last man on earth for sure)

i also adored the scene with kim and knives bonding through music, and all of knives becoming part of the band... the whole thing with todd and wallace was absolutely nuts...

i thought it was nice expanding on all the exes stories and having ramona go in and make up with (most of) them. the story with roxie was particularly good and had me tearing up! and i was absolutely sobbing by the end of the series haha although i think a lot of it had to do with the nostalgic angle for me and how much i'd loved the movie as a teen hahaha and then having the story come back for a third time in my life in a way that felt kinder and more redemptive was really something.

at first i was sad they didn't get into things like steven being gay but then i realised... ofc with it ending in a similar place 'let's try this' but also really it actually ended chronologically not long after the original story starts... it had me realise oh actually there's still so much possiblity for these characters and their lives. they could still have a lot of those adventures and discoveries that happen in the later comics even if we don't see them, it ends on the hopeful note that lets you know they're all going to try, even in the face of knowing that it Could All Go Wrong as shown by older scott & ramona's story, that there is always hope and they may as well give it a shot. BUT i also thought that part with Ultimate Ramona saying "i'm probably going to struggle with this later, so let me tell you this now, i love you" IDKKK i know to that-timeline scott that's early af but to ultimate ramona it's a real present thing since she's got all of that knowledge and history inside her. ANYWAY MADE ME EMOTIONAL also loved the visual reference to the kiss from the end of ponyo :')

.............ramona RE-BLEACHING and dyeing her hair THAT much was absolutely insane though 🤣 i've seen ppl say 'WITH A DEVELOPER BASE!?' too although I PERSONALLY believe she was maybe. mixing with conditioner. that's the only thing i could think of that would make it even remotely acceptable to bleach it that much (but also its a cartoon so ofc not realistic haha)

also i THOROUGHLY enjoyed the nicholas angel & danny butterman cameos 🤣 i was like wait why are these two security guards english.....? oh wait. oh okay. i see.

#edgar wasn't even director LMAO but somehow pegg and frost were still squeaked in there #i also thought calling the director 'edgar wrong' was so funny #loren talks #scott pilgrim takes off #ANYWAY it's made me want to go re-watch the movie and then re-read the comics and then #re-watch the series again haha #also hi es if ur seeing this im making slow progress on sketching for u #may still be a while but the ideas ARE flowing

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gggreengoblin · 8 months

Text

3.1 K words. It is 3rd part of my Girl!Daniel fic. Part 1 | Part 2

Summary :: During an argument, Daniel said something she shouldn't have said to Max. She had to navigate the consequences of her rash action.

She was seated in the passenger seat of a rental car and couldn't stop herself from jigging her legs along the beats of the rap song. She had been away from a circuit for too long. Excitement was fueling her body. Once again, her system was flooded by adrenaline, making her feel alive.

"Please stop, Daniel. You are making me anxious." The driver said. Well, he was, technically, not a driver. Just a Red Bull crew who picked her up from the airport.

Daniel warped her hands around her jeans-cladded knees. "Ah, sorry. I am just excited. I've been stuck in England for weeks. It's nice to be able to travel again."

"I heard about that," he said. "I think it is a bad idea, really. If I could afford to live in Monaco, I would leave London in a heartbeat. And for you, to do the opposite is-" he made a hand gesture with his right hand while the other holding the steering wheel.

"Nuts, right? It only took me two weeks to realize it was a bad idea." She laughed at her own stupidity.

It was silly of her to think moving would solve her problem. It was a mistake– a big one. Turns out London was too lonely, too cold, and bleak for Daniel's taste. And nothing could help her feel better there.

The only thing she could think about was her old normal. She missed traveling, sunny days, and a friend who would visit her whenever he could. So when Red Bull told her to prepare herself to do some testing during the Fp1, she was overjoyed. She packed her bags and suitcases, shoving her racing gears, which were still inside an unopened cardboard box.

They wanted her to arrive at the media day morning. So she boarded the plane, put her Red Bull polo on once she arrived at the airport, and went straight to the circuit.

When they arrived, the paddock was bustling, full of journalists and crews. They interviewed and took pictures of the drivers like they could get enough of them. Some of them said hello to her. The PR team snapped some pictures of her while she was dragging her suitcase and bags through that overcrowded place.

"Hi, guys!" She waved at the camera. And they waved back.

She unpacked her suitcase in her driver's room. She took out her racing gears and hung them in the small closet. For a moment, she let herself admire her racing suit. Oh, how she loved its color, but she loved it more because it had her name and flag printed on its waist.

And then she went to the garage. She met with her newly found engineer friends, the ones she bugged whenever she felt the need to do something during her weeks-long exile in England. They were already working; paper, pens, and tablets were scattered around the long table. She stood among them, trying to mimic her surroundings.

Heavy technical talk bore her, so Daniel wandered and walked around the garage. She ran her hand on every surface there, just a ghost of touch, not moving things or pushing any buttons. She wanted to burn this experience into her core memory because it might be her last time being inside an F1 garage as a driver, even just as a test driver.

When the engineers had finished their discussion, she approached one of them, who was standing in front of the monitor, reading his notes. She greeted him. She knew that man, Theo. He was a friendly Englishman.

"I didn't know we would use Max's garage. So cool," she said.

He just smiled and showed her his black binders. "Look at this." He explained to her what they would do the next day. "I think it would be great to finally test it out with a real car because the sim test data is immaculate. Thanks to you, we have more than enough data from the sim."

"Yeah. I can't wait." Honestly, Daniel didn't understand half of the things Theo said, but she got the picture. It was okay, she would get a detailed explanation during the briefing anyway.

"I feel like building a rocket ship, not a car."

She understood what he meant. These cars were beasts. Fast and reliable. Some people had already called them rocket ships.

A big hand squeezed her left shoulder lightly. Max was standing beside her. "I heard you were here," he said, a little breathless. Clearly, he was running away from his media duty and sneaked to the garage.

Like everyone in this garage, he was clad from head to toe with their merch. There was something different about him that she could not put a finger on yet. But she noticed his new cologne. It was sweeter than usual, with maybe a little bit of a chocolate undertone in it.

"What's up, Maxy? Do you miss me already?" She offered him her biggest smile.

"Do you miss me?"

"I asked first." There was a hope in her heart that he would say he missed her. She had limited their texting for the last few weeks. It would be impossible for her to move on if they were still texting every single day.

"I do miss your cookies."

"Only my cookies?" she teased. "Too bad, I didn't bring any."

"I need to talk to you about something. Can we move to somewhere more private?" Max said, out of the blue.

Daniel looked at Theo who just gave them a knowing glance. "I need to go back to work." He gathered his papers and put them back inside his binder. "See you later, Daniel. Bye, Max."

"Can we go to your driver's room?" Max said after Theo left. It was an unusual request. They didn't hang out in their driver's rooms.

"Yeah." Curiosity got the best of her sometimes. "What's going on?"

Max led her into the narrow hallway, exiting the garage. "Who is he?"

"Our engineer. A friend. Why?"

"Great. So you still like your mysterious guy?"

"I guess."

"When will you have time to visit Monaco?"

She opened her door and let them in. "Sorry, it's a mess." She pushed her suitcase and bags that were lying around on the floor to the corner of the room. "I can visit you during winter break, maybe before Christmas. Why?"

"Daniil just broke up with his girlfriend. If you want, Kelly and I can arrange dinner for you."

She froze. "Dinner with Daniil?" She turned around and faced Max, who had a blank look on his face. "Wow! What? Did I- did I miss something?"

"You like him, right? I want you to be happy, Daniel. If he can do that, I will do anything to make it happen."

"Oh my god, I can't believe it! You two are so cruel!" The thought of Max and Kelly discussing her dating life made her blood boil. And for them playing matchmaker, arranging Daniel a date with Kelly’s ex not the least, was unbelievably evil.

"You said you like him!"

"I never said that!" she said, raising her voice. "You made your own conclusion. Just leave it alone, yeah. Why do you have to always bring it up? Every single conversation we have had has always ended with you bringing this topic up." She wished she never opened her mouth and blabbed her feelings to Max. If she knew Max would be obsessed with this, then she would have buried this secret even deeper.

"I just want to help, Daniel."

"But your help only makes things worse."

"Then tell me what I can do!"

"Just let it go, yeah. It would be better for us if you just left it alone."

"No. I know you are miserable. Let me do something. Tell me. Just tell me who it is, Daniel. I promise I will shut up after this."

"It's you, alright," she said.

The room became quiet. Max just stood there, looking directly at her, not blinking. She could hear her heartbeats in her ears. She felt her palms become wet and cold. She wished she could disintegrate and become a pile of dust, gone, blown away by the wind.

She cleared her dry throat, trying to find her voice. "Can we move on, now?"

"What do you mean?" He finally said something after a minute of silence.

"Max, I'm sorry. Please forget it, okay? I don't mean to say that. My feelings will pass, and everything will go back to normal. I don't want to ruin everything. Shit." She opened the door and gently pushed him out of her driver's room. But he was larger and stronger. He didn't even budge.

"I love you too."

"No, you don't." She tried again, pulling on his bare front arm, trying to drag him out of her private room. She just wanted to be alone and hide in her room, God damn. "Don't make fun of me like this."

There was no point in trying to make a grown man move when he didn't want to. So she left him there. She ran back to the garage while doing her breathing exercises to calm herself down. She knew Max was trailing behind her. She could feel his gaze behind her head.

She found Theo's notebook lying on the table, unattended. She opened that binder with her shaking and sweaty hand, pretending to read. She was trying to look busy, so no one talked to her.

"I was not making fun of you," Max said with a hushed voice. He was standing close to her, too close, so no one could hear what he said.

Daniel scanned the garage. She was grateful there was no camera pointed at them. It would be a nightmare if people knew. Sure, Netflix would put their conversation in the documentary if they caught them in a video. "Not now, Max. I need to focus on tomorrow's testing." She took a step away from him.

"Daniel, there you are!" said a crew member from across the garage. She walked closer to them. "I was checking your room to make sure you got everything you needed, and I noticed you didn't have your balaclava. They said that you bring your own gear now."

"Sweet, I might have left them in my bedroom," Daniel said bitterly.

"It's okay, we'll find one."

.....

After she was done with the day, she packed her things from her driver's room and went to the hotel. She took a quick shower and changed her clothes. She was grateful to see that the black silk blouse she brought was not totally crumpled. She put a little makeup on her face- just a hint of color on her tired face. The humid air of the city made her curls difficult to manage, so she straightened them and tied them into a ponytail. She put a bandage on her bleeding thumb and then left the hotel.

She let out a sigh of relief when he got into the taxi the hotel had ordered for her. She asked the driver to take her to the shopping district of the city.

She opened her phone, which had been vibrating every few minutes for the last hour. She received several messages and missed calls from Max. She turned her phone off and kept it in the small sling bag she carried.

Daniel visited several unique shops on the street but didn't buy anything. Occasionally, she met fans who recognized her. They greeted her and some asked for selfies with her. She didn't mind.

She ends up visiting a cafe. She stopped by because she smelled the freshly baked pastry from inside of the cafe. She ordered some pastries and a cup of fancy latte to brighten her mood.

She sat in the corner, far from the big front windows. She didn't want to be disturbed. She wanted to dwell on her thoughts in peace for a bit. She didn't want to touch on what happened a couple of hours earlier. She wanted to put the memory in an imagination box and lock it, but she couldn't. It kept appearing in her consciousness even when she kept pushing it away.

Daniel wanted to blame it on Max. Because he had pushed her into confessing her feelings to him. But, can she? Maybe it was because of the nature of emotion. You can only suppress it for a certain period of time; after that, it will bleed. Like pushing a bubble of air inside water, the bubble would always surface.

It was already said. She couldn’t take it back. The only thing she could do now was navigate the disastrous aftermath. Maybe this was the end of their friendship. Was it a friendship if she had not thought of Max as “only a friend” for years?

She ate the cake and sipped her latte slowly. She savored them until she felt like several hours had passed. She asked the waiter what time it was; it was 8 o'clock. A good time to go back to her hotel. She needed a good night's sleep for tomorrow anyway.

When Daniel returned to her hotel, she found Max pacing in the hallway of her room. He played with his phone while putting one of his hands on his hip. When he saw Daniel, he immediately pocketed his phone and walked towards Daniel's door.

"Where have you been? I've been waiting in front of your door for almost an hour." He cranked his head to talk to her. With her heels on, she was a couple of inches taller than him.

"Jeez, everyone has their own thing going on, Max. Besides, you didn't tell me you would be here, right?"

Max observed Daniel's appearance from head to toe, lingering on her neck, where she put her dainty silver neck chain on. "Dinner?" he said.

"No, thanks. I'm good."

"I mean, did you just come back from dinner?"

"No, I was just walking around. Window shopping. What do you want?"

"Can we talk about earlier?"

"Do we really need to talk about it? Listen, I'm sorry. It was so selfish of me. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Can we talk inside your room? I— I need to explain everything to you."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Max."

"So you want to talk here? Okay," he said nonchalantly with a shrug.

Daniel looked around. There were only them in the hallway, but who could guarantee that no one would eavesdrop on their conversation? She took the key card from her bag, opened the door, and let them in.

"Please, be quick. What do you want to explain?" Daniel put her bag on the nightstand and took off the high heels while sitting on the edge of her bed. She massaged the soles of her feet. They were sore from her long walk.

Max stood there, four feet in front of her. She can still smell the circuit's aroma that clings to his skin and clothes. He took off his cap and ran his right-hand fingers through his hair. "I want you to know that I have been loving you for years."

Dumbfounded, she stared at him. She said nothing because her brain was overwhelmed by his confession.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Max said.

She shook her head. She felt her heart stop beating. She gripped the bedsheets. Trying to remember her grounding exercise. Who would believe him, though? When a guy who was in a long-term relationship with another woman told you that, it sounded like a lie, right?

"I broke up with her right after our conversation in the garage. Daniel, I was with her because I thought you only saw me as a friend."

She still couldn't process what she had just heard.

"Say something, Daniel."

"Ah, yeah– I–" she tried to form a sentence. She cleared her constricting throat and took a deep breath. "Max, that's so wrong."

"I want to be with you."

It took her back to a couple of years earlier. Daniel remembered what had happened to her at that time. Rumors had circulated that she was the reason one of her friends broke up with his girlfriend. It made her head spin, and she tasted a bitter sensation in her tongue.

"We can't! You just broke up like hours ago! I want to retire. I want to enjoy my last months of racing in peace, Max. The last thing I need is to be followed by drama everywhere I go. If people find out—if she tells the media why the two of you broke up—they will hunt me down." She still remembered how every interview she did always discussed that gossip. How they monitored and analyzed Daniel's interactions with her male friends. She wished she would never have to go through that again.

Max took her clammy hands, enveloping them in his bigger ones. His hands were freezing too. Maybe she was not the only one who felt lost, they were in the same sinking boat after all. "We are not celebrities," he said, "nothing will happen."

"Oh, you don't remember. They will find out and paint me as the bad guy. It did happen years ago, even when I had nothing to do with that breakup. I don't want to be put in that situation again."

''I didn't tell her anything about you. I will be okay, Daniel."

"She will know, Max. You broke up after we saw each other for the first time in weeks." Kelly was a smart woman. She surely would put two and two together. And if she were a cunning person, she would make this public to gain more attention, clicks, and followers. She could turn her misery into money.

"If something happens, I will take care of it. I promise. I will tell the PR in the morning." He held her hands tighter. “Give us a chance."

"We can't be together now, at least not yet. We will screw things up if we rush into this. We are not thinking clearly." She pulled her hands from his hold and stood up. There was a need to put some distance between them. This closeness felt too much, suffocating.

"We just found out about each other's feelings this morning. And I think you are downplaying your feelings for her, too. You're not a heartless monster, Max. If you feel nothing, you won't spend years in a relationship with her. Let's wait."

“How long do we have to wait?” He looked at her with his doe, pleading eyes.

“I don’t know.”

#maxiel #maxiel fic #f1 rpf #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #girl!daniel #my fic

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