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cutehoons02 · 2 days ago

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See you on the podium, sweetie!

*pairing: Lee Heeseung F1 Ferrari driver x PR

*trope: only one bed-bad boy Heeseung?

*driver: Lee Heeseung=Charles Leclcer

*synopsis: Being the PR of Ferrari has always been one of your biggest dreams but you would never have expected to find yourself working with Lee Heeseung, the representation of the driver that no sports PR would want to have: flirts with all the girls, is always paparazzato to parties around the world from MonteCarlo to Bali, breaks the heart of his fans miliary both because it is really beautiful and knows that he is but also for his aura untouchable because he is the chosen in house Ferrari. But there is a secret that is coming more and more to the surface, he can't sleep peacefully for months now both because of the countless haters he has in social media but also because he doesn't win a race for almost 6 months and from a driver Ferrari everyone expects more from him. What if the PR of Ferrari was the only one to calm him and put him to sleep? a shared bed, various hotels to travel around the world, beautiful tracks and countless podiums to win...

*tags: A lot of tension,fluffy, pervy Heeseung, a lot of humor, teasing, kissing, sucking, shower sex, unprotected sex (don't horny people) minor don't interect + 18, fingering, pubblic scenes,masturbation, pet names (sweetie, PR,good girl) (Hee) jealousy, possesion

11.4k (🌹)

Heeseung has just stepped out of his red-hot car, his eyes are tired but full of determination and while he takes off his helmet he sees his companions or "friends" on the podium while they spray rivers of Champagne and take a thousand photos for various social content with their trophies. He is trying to hide his frustration after another disappointing race by coming in P4, while reporters surround him when he enters the post-race space of the reporters. You were always flawless in your role as PR, and you make your way through the crowd with a firm step, a smile that hides a veil of sarcasm. As soon as Heeseung sees you, he smiles and looks up at you with his hair ruffled by sweat and helmet, trying to keep his "womanizer" attitude under control.

«Here’s my favorite PR, you’re always by my side, Y/n. I was wondering if this time you would cheer for me, or if I would see you clapping your hands for your little friend Jake or whatever for Jay» He said, leaning towards you as you were going to get in line to answer the questions of an Italian journalist.

"You don’t look like someone who needs my support, if you want I’ll show you how many girls cheer you up on ig sending you pictures at the osè. Rather, it seems you need a miracle both for how you drive and for your appearance. But don’t worry, I’m good at fixing things...at least those that aren’t about your ego." Heeseung smiled maliciously leaned on a slab leaned his head and looked at you with a defiant expression

«Ah, my ego. I didn’t think you liked it so much. Or maybe it’s just that you’re afraid I’ll win, so you should stay up like 24 hours a day to check every social or your mailbox if you find some pictures of me with not only my prize but also with girls and I do some shit?»

You took a step closer and looked him straight in the eye

"I don’t care to be in the middle of the action, Heeseung. I’m interested in you winning, finally, and bring a little joy to this team that works its ass every weekend. But the miracle you’re referring to is becoming more difficult. You are tired, aren’t you?"

«I’m not tired, Y/n. Just frustrated. I want to win for Ferrari, you know. But... it’s not easy.» closed his eyes for a moment because he was tired and could not wait to lie down on the plane.

«It’s not easy... when things don’t go as they should.»

You sighed and looked at him, he looked like a helpless puppy put in a cage of lions who would eat him and did not help the thick dark circles under his eyes.

"I know. But the pressure won’t help you run faster. Neither will your ego. Maybe you should just take a break... and maybe sleep a little since you haven’t slept more than 8 hours?"

Hee looked up at the sky and with an ironic smile said to you

«Yes, because sleep is the solution to all my problems, right? It’s not like I’ve been trying to sleep for the last couple of months... I tried natural herbal pills, medicines, anti-stress pillows, hypnosis, sleeping with Jungwon, sleeping in the motorhome, and other shit»

sighs and shakes his head

«But, of course, you keep giving me advice and making fun of me. I’m sure that another 'everything is fine, surely this evening you will be able to sleep' on your part will do me miracles.»

"I never made fun of you Heeseung and you know better than me that I’m worried about you. But since you’re so stubborn, maybe you should stop being a superhero and accept that even champions need a shoulder to lean on. You’re human too, Heeseung and sooner or later you’ll find a solution to your insomnia problem and you need to sleep at least a couple of hours even on the shoulder of a random person."

«So, are you suggesting that I fall asleep on your shoulder, Y/n? Weren’t you the one who didn’t want to be touched by anyone, would you grant me such an honor?» he looked at you amused as you raised your eyes.

"You’re a lost cause, Heeseung was a way of saying what I told you to sleep on someone’s shoulder. But don’t worry, if you want to fall asleep on my shoulder later in the plane, go ahead"

Heeseung looked at you amused and raised his hands in surrender

«Okay, okay, I give up. Let’s do it then. But if I can finally sleep, I’ll buy you a ticket for a concert of those Korean bands that you listen to.»

You opened your mouth slightly surprised by how much she knew about you and smiled but in a genuine way.

"Let’s give it all Heeseung, there is nothing to lose!"

The plane is almost empty, with a few team members sitting in the back of the cabin, some chatting, others resting. You were sitting by the window, immersed in reading a romance book that they were all talking about on #Booktok. The soft light of the plane illuminated the pages and your face was focused, as if you were living every word of history. Heeseung was sitting across the row and bored himself to death. He needed a distraction, so he got up and stood by you and took a sneak peek at the book.

«So, Y/n.. another of your love novels? I hope Prince Charming comes soon to save you because otherwise, you will find yourself at 50 years old still fantasizing in your house in the countryside full of cats»

"Are you always so sarcastic, Heeseung? Better to stay in a house full of super cute and cuddly cats than having a person like you in the house! You better not have your ego ever come up to the level of one of these books' protagonists, or you will never find your white horse or sword fighting to save your princess." You said without lifting your eyes from the book but with a funny smile

Heeseung made a gesture of stabbing his heart and looked at you with a grin.

«But come on, Y/n! Let’s be clear. Do you think that the Prince Charming of these books is really what happens in a relationship? With broken hearts and promises of eternal love? Please, what you read is practically unreal in this society»

You finally raised your eyes, raising an eyebrow and looking at him badly.

"I guess you’re more realistic. Instead of waiting for the prince charming, maybe you should accept that you are not invincible. And a Ferrari is not enough to change who you are, I know that inside you hide a boy with a thousand fears and that it could be the "prince charming" for at least one girl out there if you open your eyes and behave like a normal guy and not a womanizer." You said, touching slightly the part of his heart covered by a wide sweatshirt

Heeseung laughed, shaking his head and staring at you

«I wouldn’t say that I’m a 'prince charming' type, but at least I’m a driver. And with my talent when I have the high-performance car I’ll be the king of the track and maybe of history. There is no white horse, only racing tires and a roaring engine.»

You were slightly amused by his answer and returned with your eyes on your book.

"Ah, well, everyone has their way of feeling like a hero, but this year there is another hero on the track and that’s not you but Sunghoon with his Red Bull. But you can still think it’s all that easy if it makes you feel better."

Heeseung slightly leans to see the title of the book and looks for it on the internet and starts laughing reading that is a sport-romance about a hockey player and a kind of singer and the trope is "Enemis to lovers and Tutoring". While he was reading he felt his eyes getting tired and he hands his face and is jealous to see you so alert and focused even after countless hours of work.

«I will pretend not to have read the plot Y/ n, meanwhile I comment that it will be another book where the boy is perfect and has 0 weak points and represents perfection»

"If you think I’m looking for perfection, then you don’t know me at all, Heeseung."

With a fun air, moves a little closer to you, trying to peek better at the pages and have the opportunity to observe you.

«So what are you doing with these books, Y/n? It seems that you are waiting for your 'knight' but you know better than me that he does not exist in real life»

You looked at him for a moment, amused but also a little annoyed by his insistence. He moved even closer and kept on making jokes until you closed the book and looked at it with defiance.

"You’re unbearable, Heeseung. I read these books to escape from reality and find some peace and to have some laughs for what happens in these super romantic books but someone named Lee Heeseung does not leave me alone"

Heeseung raises his hands in surrender, but he can’t help laughing. After another minute of silence, he realizes that you had put on headphones and you were leaning with your eyes closed at the window and his expression softens, although it still does a little cynical fake.

«Okay, okay, enough with the jokes. Just... you’re right. I’m tired, and maybe I’m talking in vain. But seriously... a little rest would not hurt me.»

You felt his sincerity hidden under his facade, you can not help but shake your head.

"It was just a joke, Heeseung. I know you don’t like the idea of admitting that you need a break. But if you want to sleep, maybe you should get comfortable, instead of being condescending with me. Try to close your eyes and relax a little we have almost 3 hours more flight"

Heeseung, who has never liked to admit that he is vulnerable, tries to appear uninterested. But, after a few more minutes of tension, without thinking too much, it lets go and leans on your shoulder inspiring your sweet scent but at the same time floral.

Heeseung sighed, almost whispering.

«All right, all right... I give up. I don’t expect miracles... but maybe a little sleep.»

You were not completely surprised by that gesture but you looked at it for a moment and you said nothing. It’s more of a spontaneous gesture from Heeseung, who finally seems to admit he needs some peace.

After 10 minutes you were listening to Taylor Swift and chanting it in your head until you felt a slight breath next to your neck and opened your eyes and watched Heeseung sleeping, who breathed with a relaxed breath and even his face seemed relaxed rather looked completely abandoned to his sleep. You looked at him incredulously and a small smile formed on your face, and at that point, Jungwon, his teammate who had seen the whole scene from the other side of the plane, came up with a look of pure surprise.

<< Can’t believe it... really. This is a miracle, maybe we found the right cure or person for Heeseung. We were all completely stupid or unaware you were always here with us>

You looked slightly at Jungwon and I did no with my head

"I didn’t do anything he's just tired, Jungwon"

Jungwon shakes his head, watching Heeseung sleep peacefully for the first time in weeks, and looks at you with a grin.

Heeseung wakes up slowly after 3 hours, stretching with a slight groaning. He slept like he hadn’t done in weeks, but as he moved he felt a discomfort around his neck. He sits better in the seat and looks down...only to realize that his arm is wrapped around your waist. Even worse, her head is practically resting on your breast.

It freezes and the eyes open. His mind runs fast, trying to figure out how to make up for it and how he got to sleep leaning on you for hours. The image of him, sleeping in that position, seems compromising: He, the "great flirt", now transformed into a puppy that clings to you as if you were his pillow.

«Oh, my...sorry! I don’t know how... I didn’t mean to... I mean, it wasn’t intentional!» pulling out the arm with an unnatural speed

you had been motionless not to wake him up and you looked at him with a mixture of irritation and disbelief.

"It’s not like you can use people as a human pillow, Heeseung. I hope you slept well at least because I... don’t."

Hee looks at you with fawning eyes, a little embarrassed but sincerely sorry.

«I swear, I didn’t notice! It’s... well, you were comfortable and I hadn’t slept like this for an eternity...»

Before he can say anything else, the sound of a giggle interrupts him. Jungwon, sitting a short distance away, turned with a funny expression and a smartphone in his hand. It’s not hard to guess that he was watching the scene for a while.

<< Well, good to know. The solution to your sleep problems was not complicated Hee: you only need Y/n next to yourself as a human pillow!>> With a mischievous smirk looked at you and Heeseung

You gave Jungwon a look that could burn up a Ferrari engine, but he doesn’t seem to be the least bit intimidated. On the contrary, he turns completely towards you by placing his chin on a seat, ready to continue teasing.

"Don’t put yourself in it. It’s enough to put up with him, let alone you."

He raised his hands in surrender but with a glaring

<< Hey, come on Y/n, it was just a joke. But seriously, look how he’s been born again! I haven’t seen him this calm in months. Maybe your problem is already gone, Y/n is a kind of sleep talisman."

Heeseung, still red in the face, tries to answer but he gets stuck, clearly in trouble. He doesn’t know how to react: on the one hand, he would like to continue to be a bad boy, on the other hand, he feels like a child who has been caught in the act.

«Stop it Jungwon. It’s not like that! It’s not my fault I fell asleep and Y/n was just... there.»

<< Ah, sure. 'Just there.' So much 'just there' that you were wrapped like a koala around her. >> he said with a clever smirk

You were unaware of the situation and got up from your seat with a strong gesture, the book under your arm. She’s tired of both and ready to leave that embarrassing scene behind.

"Fantastic. You are a dream team I understand why everyone says that you are made for each other as a duo in Ferrari. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to prepare myself mentally for a new race weekend, who knows what dramas will come out." You said looking at Heeseung in particular

Jungwon turned to Heeseung and spoke

<< You know, I think Y/n could really be your medicine. Or at least, your antidote against insomnia. >

«But stop... It’s not like that. It was comfortable. And then maybe you’re right. I don’t know how, but I slept well."

Jungwon takes another photo with his phone, this time of Heeseung who seems thoughtful, and shakes his head laughing.

<< I don’t know, Hyung. I think Y/n is your good luck pillow. Maybe we should patent it as part of the team>>

«Come on, Jungwon. Let’s get off and stop taking pictures before Y/n finds you and destroys you.»

As they head for the exit, Heeseung is surprisingly in a good mood, despite the embarrassment. He would never admit it openly, but for the first time in a long time, he feels rested and even a little happier.

Montreal GP (Canada)

The afternoon light is perfect. The clear sky reflects on the calm water of the river, creating a dreamy backdrop for the Prada photo shoot. Heeseung and Jungwon, dressed in elegant suits and luxury shoes, pose with a surprising naturalness for two F1 drivers.

You were there as always on the go: setting up contracts, managing fans huddled behind the barriers, and overseeing every detail to ensure everything went smoothly. But as you turn, you notice Heeseung with an absent-minded look, sitting on a chair between one shot and another. The fatigue is on his face as the makeup artist approaches him with a flirtatious smile. Gently, he fixes his hair, then bends slightly to attract his attention.

'Looking forward to seeing you on the track, Heeseung. You’ll be great as always. Maybe you could bring me a special pass?'

Heeseung looks up, but can’t even pretend to smile. He puts his hand on his face, sighing.

«Yes, sure... thank you. But first I have to sleep at least five hours in a row without waking up if I want to be great on the circuit.»

The makeup artist, surprised, laughs nervously, thinking she is joking.

Well, then stop going out and about! That’s why you’re so tired, right?'

At those words, Heeseung slightly straightened up on the chair and looked at her with a serious expression, almost exasperated and a little annoyed because he wanted to be remembered as a Ferrari champion not as an obsessive from the parties.

«I haven’t been to a party in weeks. The last time I saw a club, they were still playing songs from last year. My problem is not dancing too much... it’s that even when I’m still, I can’t turn off my brain.»

The makeup artist seems to not know how to respond, and she quickly moves away, a little embarrassed.

On the other side of the set, Jungwon, who witnessed the scene, burst into a low-pitched laugh. You were engaged with a contract, lift your eyes in time to see Heeseung lean tired on the chair.

<< Hyung, I can’t believe it. You were so rough on her! You’d usually be the first to flirt with me, but I know your charm is slowly disappearing. >>

«Ah, yes? Flirting? Not even the way that word is written, Jungwon. I’m too tired to even think about it.» He said, standing with his hair and slapping himself on the face to wake up,

Jungwon keeps laughing but the joking tone fades when he sees how exhausted his teammate is. You approach him by observing.

"Heeseung, maybe you should take a day off after this shoot. It wouldn’t help anyone to see you collapse on the track Sunday, I’ll cut you off at a small event in Montreal"

«Thank you, Y/n. But every time I try to rest, it seems to me to waste time. As if I was wasting an opportunity to improve, I could train or I know how to watch the telemetry of the machine but the problem is that I am exhausted.»

You crossed your arms, looking at him with an expression that is halfway between reproach and understanding.

"You’re not wasting anything if you take care of yourself. And for the record, you look more dead than alive. Even the products and make-up artists of Prada cannot cover certain dark circles."

Jungwon laughs again, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

<< Y/n is right. Maybe you should seriously ask for a set of Prada pillows made extra-sized for you, maybe those help you sleep better. >

Heeseung giggles slightly, shaking his head. Despite the fatigue, he is grateful for the presence of the two. He would never admit it openly, but Jungwon’s irony and Y/n’s concern help him to keep his feet on the ground.

Heeseung stands up and stretches and looks at you.

«Don’t worry, I’ll sleep. Sooner or later and when I’m well rested before I beat all the competition on the track and then I’ll go to celebrate, Y/ n is for a while that there are no dramas about me or gossip!»

The free practice had gone surprisingly well. Heeseung had found a good pace, the team was satisfied, and even the journalists seemed less insistent. However, as he walked in the paddock towards the Ferrari camper, he looked like a rag. The dark circles were deeper than ever, and his movements showed how tired he was.

In the living room of the camper, Jay and Sunghoon were waiting for him and both had noticed that something was wrong, but they also knew that Heeseung hated to admit his weaknesses.

'Hey, Hyung. I got to show you something. Maybe I’ll give you some advice on how to be Pole tomorrow.' said Jay smiling with a grin

"I hope it’s a new race strategy because everything else is a blur."

Jay hands him the phone, showing a photo taken by Jungwon. In the image, Heeseung sleeps soundly with his head resting on your shoulder, his arm around your waist, while you look completely stiff and visibly uncomfortable.

'Look at this. The real winning strategy: it’s the human cushion. Maybe we should add it to the race plan for Sunday.'

Sunghoon, sitting a short distance away, bends forward to look at the picture better, bursting with laughter.

<< Oh my God, Hyung, you’re like a baby who can’t sleep without his favorite blanket! >>

"It’s not what it looks like! It was just... boh, a coincidence. I was tired and she was there."

'Sure? Because you don’t look so random in this picture. You look rather... comfortable.'

Sunghoon with a clever smile

<< Maybe you should do a scientific experiment. You know, to see if it’s your antidote. But to do it right, you should sleep with it. And I mean really sleep, not do the usual things you do with girls>>

Heeseung looks at him with an expression between amused and disoriented.

"You two are impossible. And no, it won’t happen. It’s Y/n, okay? She hates me enough without me asking her that."

But later that night, as he looked at the clock at 10:30 p.m., something stuck in his head. He really needed to sleep, and against all logic, he couldn’t get out of his mind the possibility that you could help him in some absurd way.

With a sigh and against his "values", he stood up and headed for the door of your room. Knocked twice, then leaned on the doorframe with his usual flirtatious grin, trying to look casual despite the heart beating hard and opened the door, crossing his arms and looking at him suspiciously

"What do you want, Heeseung? It’s late. Shouldn’t you be sleeping already?"

Hee bowed his head, a Playboy smile.

«I was thinking... maybe you want to keep me company. You know, let’s talk, read one of those romance books or something.»

You stared at him, raising an eyebrow. You know that tone and smile, and you usually can’t stand it but there’s something different in his eyes: there’s no usual security, and under that mask, he looks really tired and vulnerable.

"Heeseung, spit the toad. Why are you really here? I don’t think to talk about books."

«Okay, okay. You’re right. I just... can’t sleep, and the last time, on the plane, I slept so well. And I thought maybe...» he looked down, scratching his neck.

"...that sleeping next to me might help you again. I understand?"

«More or less. But don’t get me wrong! Nothing else, only of course if you also do not want to try something as beautiful as me. But this evening I just want to sleep. I swear.»

You would want to kick him out because you can’t stand him but at the same time he seems hurt if he came to you, one of the few people who stood up to him and that you didn’t fall into his flirtations. You sighed and opened the door to let him in.

"God, what am I doing wrong to deserve to see it 24 hours a day? If I agree, promise not to snore and not invade my side of the bed. If I catch you touching me"

Heeseung raised his hands in surrender and smiled at you

«Promised. I’ll be more discreet than a cat»

"If I regret this decision, I swear you will never see a contract signed by me again."

Heeseung smiles as he enters the room, but this time it’s a genuine smile, lifted. Maybe for once, she will let herself be helped.

You were standing in front of the bathroom mirror, with a seemingly endless collection of bottles and creams arranged neatly on the shelf. The Weeknd resonates in the background from your phone, filling the environment with the sensual notes of "Earned It".

On the other side of the room, Heeseung was leaning against the bathroom door, watching you with a funny curiosity. He’s not sure what he’s looking at: the complex skincare routine or you with only a slightly wide shirt and short shorts that made him go crazy.

«Are you sure you want the ticket for that Korean band of K-pop? Can I give you all this, god how much money are you spending on skincare, are you sure that everything you’re putting on your face is not... excessive?»

You raised an eyebrow while gently smearing a cream on your face

"Heeseung, if you could understand something more than soap and shampoo, maybe you wouldn’t have the skin of a 12-year-old under stress. These steps are necessary."

«Don’t overdo it. My skin is perfect as it is. But, tell me, is this all for me? Are you trying to impress me or is it for your future prince charming?»

You puff silently but can’t help but giggle as you grab another bottle.

"For you? Don’t make me laugh. I do it for myself and when I’m old I won’t need to get my face punctured. Although maybe you could learn something instead of standing there humming The Weeknd like a teenager in love."

Heeseung pretends to be offended, taking a hand to his heart.

«First of all, The Weeknd is also one of my favorite artists. Second, I’m not humming... I’m singing with passion.»

With a mischievous smile, he begins to hum the refrain of "Earned It", emphasizing the words with an overly intense look towards you:

«Cause, girl, you’re perfect... You’re always worth it... » Isn’t this a perfect song for both of us? You know, with your obsession for perfection and my natural charm?"

You stopped for a moment, staring at him with an expression that was somewhere in between fun and disbelief.

"Maybe you mean it’s a song about how hard it is to win someone’s favor? Yeah, maybe he’s in. But trust me, you’re not exactly the romantic protagonist he describes."

Heeseung laughs and leans over the sink next to you, staring at you as you put on eye cream with extreme precision.

«You know, if I were your romantic protagonist, I would be much more convincing than those perfect guys that you read in your books, I could make you feel the same things they make their "loved ones" feel but in a real way. And you wouldn’t need all these creams, I would make you shine naturally!»

You stared at him with an exasperated expression, but you could not help blushing slightly.

"Can you stop flirting for five minutes? Amazingly, you can find the energy to say this nonsense even when you seem on the verge of collapse."

Heeseung chuckles, raising his hands in surrender.

«All right, all right. But I know that underneath you like this whole Y/n thing, and you’d be super bored working with people like Jay or Sunghoon, right?»

You didn’t answer, just turning off the bathroom light and heading for bed. And he still follows you smiling.

As you lie down, with Heeseung visibly calmer but also a little stiff, you observe him from the underside.

"Why do you seem so uncomfortable? Has anyone ever asked you to just sleep with someone or do you always chase them away before trying to sleep?"

Heeseung moves slightly, staring at the ceiling. It’s hard for him to admit things, but you don’t let him out.

«It’s not exactly... what I’m used to.»

You can’t help laughing, covering your mouth with a hand so as not to wake up any neighbors.

"Relax, Heeseung. I won’t jump on you. You can relax for once in your life."

He turns to look at you, with an expression between the amused and the mortified.

«Thank you for the reassurance. Not that I was afraid! , you would rather sleep with a wolf than with me knowing you, Y/n»

"No, of course. You’re not afraid of anything. Except maybe to admit that sometimes you need someone."

That phrase leaves him speechless for a moment. But as he closes his eyes and finally lets go, he realizes that Y/n may be right.

The morning light was filtering through the window, illuminating the hotel room. You had been awake for a few minutes, but it hadn’t moved yet. You were held back by a strange feeling. Perhaps it was the weight of Heeseung’s arm that, while sleeping blessed beside you had moved too close to your breast.

You sighed, trying not to think too much. You simply had to move it without waking him, that’s all, and gently took his wrist, but at that moment Heeseung moved.

Instead of walking away, he murmured something incomprehensible and pulled you even closer to him, as if you were his personal stuffed animal. His hand, meanwhile, slipped under your shirt caressing the skin of your side in a distracted way, until its fingers reached your back, gently touching your spine.

You felt a shiver all over your body. It was a completely unexpected feeling and not to happen especially with Lee Heeseung.

"I can’t believe it. This is a nightmare. "

He, meanwhile, was sleeping soundly, with a puppy-like expression completely unaware that his head was resting close to your neck, the messy hair touching your skin and tickling you. You tried to move a little bit more but the grip tightened slightly and you held your breath. Heeseung moved slightly, his face sinking a little deeper into his neck.

«Where do you think you’re going?» He murmured in a husky voice, still soaked with sleep.

You felt a shiver running down your back. "I didn’t want to wake you," you whispered in a neutral tone.

He chuckled softly, a low laugh that vibrated against your skin. «Don’t worry... I wouldn’t wake up for anything in the world if it wasn’t for you.»

You looked up because even in the early morning he was flirting and there was always that usual pinch of mischief in his voice. Before you could answer, you felt his hand slip under your shirt, so slowly that it seemed studied.

"What are you doing?" you asked, trying to keep his cool.

He caressed your side uncovered, the touch light but enough to make you feel the skin burning. «I’m thanking my miracle cure» he replied. «I haven’t slept so well in months... and you made it all possible.»

You stiffened, but you did nothing to stop him. You felt Heeseung’s hand move gently as if he were trying to memorize every line of your body. The warmth of his fingers was almost hypnotic, and for a moment you let go, closing your eyes.

«You know, you should relax more often» he continued, his voice soft and sweet. «You are not like the others... And I like this.»

"Don’t be stupid, Heeseung, they’re not like those perfect models you hang out with. And anyway, I don’t like physical contact, so..."

Before you could finish the sentence you felt his slightly calloused fingers touch a cape and unintentionally you raised your back and he lifted his head, his dark eyes staring at you with an unexpected seriousness. «Don’t say nonsense», he slowly lifted your old pajama shirt and began to kiss you from the navel with light kisses until they reached your breast with one hand he squeezed it slightly and then laid his lips and started to tease you; he would lick it, slightly nibble it and hold it for you «You are beautiful, Y/n. More than you can imagine. And I don’t want you to get paranoid about these things, do we understand?» you nodded your head and Heeseung kept leaving little kisses all over your body and with his big hands he held one side of you and the other always a tit

You looked down, trying to hide the blush that was coloring your cheeks. "Heeseung..."

«Shhh» interrupted you, placing a finger on your lips. «I’m not flirting. Not this time, god this breast is made for my big hands and I want to make you feel like my dick is already hard just because of you, Y/n.»

You look uncertain, But there was something in his expression that made him soften and he laid slightly above you with a quick movement he rubbed his length into your pussy still covered by some short shorts and succinus misery was hard, and for those few seconds. You heard it could have been imagined that it was also great. "Look, if you want to thank me, do it by winning on Sunday, okay?"

He laughed softly, a laugh that seemed to dispel all tension. «All right, boss, but if I win I want something in return» You saw how he looked at your whole body and after a while stood up and winked at you before leaving.

Heeseung, who has just left his P2 qualification, heads to the interview area with contagious energy, ready to do his usual show. He’s smiling, charming, and was terribly annoying to you.

You were a few steps away from him, with your phone in hand, recording every word to avoid misunderstandings or fractions that could turn into tabloid headlines. But as Heeseung was getting in front of the cameras you knew he wanted to make a show.

The first journalist hands him the microphone, smiling.

Journalist 1 :

"Heeseung, you missed the pole by a few tenths. Do you think the race step will be enough to turn things around tomorrow?"

Heeseung :

'Sure, tomorrow I’ll give it all. But if you want to know my strategy in detail... I promise that I’ll explain it to you, as long as it brings me luck.'

The emphasis on the word "luck" is accompanied by a wink that makes half of the room laugh. You snort loudly, attracting the attention of one of the press officers who looks at her confused.

With the second journalist, however, Heeseung is at his best.

Journalist 2 :

"Tomorrow will be a tough race. Sunghoon seems to have an advantage, but do you think it will be a duel between the two of you?"

Heeseung :

(with a mischievous smile)

'My duel is always with Sunghoon, but you know what? If I had you by my side at the wall box, I would win without problems.'

You put down the phone with an incredulous expression, mumbling.

"Eight hours of sleep and he’s already turned into the usual serial flirter. I should have kept him awake."

When Heeseung comes back to you, visibly satisfied with himself you stare at him.

"Congratulations on the qualification, Casanova. But if you don’t win tomorrow, I swear I’ll take that microphone and make you eat it."

«Calm Y/n, you should be as refreshed as you were this morning with me! It was just to keep the atmosphere light, in this place they are all so boring and obsessive with the coldness of Sunghoon."

You slapped him lightly and pursed his keys.

"Relax, of course. Too bad I have to answer your fans in delirium on Twitter.»

You were a bundle of nerves sitting in the Ferrari box watching the race of Heeseung. From the start, Sunghoon had taken the lead, taking full advantage of the straight speed of his Red Bull but Heeseung, however, kept calm, studying every corner of the Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, known for its technical braking and the famous "esse" of the Casino.

The decisive moment came in the last ten laps, when a small collision caused two cars to come out and the Virtual Safety Car came out that allowed Heeseung to switch to softer and fresher tires. Upon returning to the track Hee flew with his red fire car and showed all his power and agility, bend after bend began to gnaw the advantage of Sunghoon.

With three laps to go, the overtaking reached the final chicane just before the Champions Wall. With a breakaway at the limit, Heeseung joined Sunghoon and, despite fierce resistance, took the lead in the race with an impeccable trajectory.

Crossing the finish line in first position, you had tears in your eyes because it was 6 months since you did not win and the whole team hugged you and you ran under the podium.

On the podium, his smile was brighter than the sun reflecting on the gold trophy. He sprayed champagne with a contagious energy, wetting Sunghoon, who laughed defeated, and Jungwon, who occupied the third step. You watched from the edge of the track, crossing your arms but with a smug smile.

"He’s finally back to win, at least now he’ll stop tormenting me for how much he missed winning." You muttered in a low voice

When the celebrations on the podium ended, the group headed towards the river near the circuit, a special tradition to celebrate Canadian Grand Prix victories. The crowd of fans had already gathered along the banks, shouting and cheering as the drivers and team approached the water.

Heeseung was euphoric, almost in a trance. With a sure gesture, he unlaced the top of the pilot’s suit, letting it fall on his hips and with a fluid movement, he also took off his shirt, revealing his sculpted chest and toned muscles under the sunlight.

The crowd exploded in shouts and applause, as dozens of phones took photos and recorded videos.

You stopped suddenly when Hee took off her shirt and your eyes were fixed on the slightly tanned skin but especially in his toning muscles that covered all of his toned body.

"Oh. My God. Really? Did he have to take off his shirt? Wasn’t the Playboy smile and the Greek statue body enough? This is ridiculous, tomorrow there will be all the social media invaded by him." you said in a low voice not making you heard from anyone.

You tried to look away, but your eyes inevitably returned to follow every movement of Heeseung. The sun was shining on his skin, and the champagne drops from the podium were still visible. He ran his hand through his hair, wet and messy, before approaching the edge of the river.

Heeseung turned to you with a provocative smile, having noticed your eyes following him before he jumped into the river and yelled at you.

«Y/n! What are you doing there all serious? You’re not judging me, are you? Come on, admit it, this physique is not bad, right?»

"I’m not judging you. I’m just trying to figure out if you have a social media contract, since every move you make ends on the net!"

Heeseung gets up, diving into the water with a spectacular dive. When he emerged, he passed his hands over his face and hair, casting another amused look, and winked at you.

When he got back to the small wooden pier he came close to you who had a light towel and looked at you with a smile that would have made thousands of his fans crazy but it was only for you at that moment and with a little laugh she undid her head and small drops of water mixed with champagne they flooded your body and a slight redness took possession of your cheeks and you thought:

"This guy will drive me crazy. And not in the professional sense of the term."

«So? Have you seen something that you like?»

"Yes. Your suit, which for some reason you’re not wearing. Do you want a tip? Get back to putting it on, before someone makes an awkward photo montage."

Heeseung laughed

«You’re too stiff, Y/n. Should you relax a little bit by maybe taking a bath... with me?»

You pointed your finger at his still-wet chest.

"Keep it up, Heeseung, and you’ll see that the next bathroom is with the whole PR team, but to save yourself from trouble."

«All right, all right! Only because today you were my medicine even off the track.»

When you returned to the hotel, you promised yourself to ignore him for the rest of the day. But as he walked before you, you could not help but take one last look at his carved back.

"There is no hope. This guy is a continuous temptation the red devil."

It was Saturday night and you were finally enjoying some relaxation at home, away from the chaos of paddocks, interviews, and especially Heeseung. You had dinner with your friends and after weeks of going through the circuits, you felt like a normal person for a moment. But, of course, your phone decided to remind you who you really were: the PR of the most problematic (and irresistible) driver of the moment.

While your friends were laughing at another joke you saw the phone screen light up with the name you feared most: "Heeseung".

With a heavy sigh, you already know that you would never spend a quiet evening.

"What do you want, Hee?"

On the other end of the line, Heeseung seemed agitated, almost desperate and there was music in the background.

'Y/n! Thank goodness you answered. Look, I went out with Jake and Jay at the Twiga, just to relax a bit, nothing like that... but a paparazzo caught me with a glass of wine while talking to a fan.'

You closed your eyes, holding back an exasperated groaning

So? Where’s the problem, Heeseung? It’s not the first time you've ended up in these situations, by now people know that you have lived off the track and that you go to have fun and I doubt it will be the last.'

'Y/n, it’s not like it seems, and don’t get mad! I was just having a chat, I swear. The fan came over, asked me for a picture, and then he said something to my ear. But I promise you, nothing strange! Just that, you know how paparazzi are, It seemed... well she was kissing me"

You feel a mixture of frustration and resignation grow inside you.

"Heeseung, I don’t need to know the details. Really. You can do what you want with girls, it’s not my business but I’m just tired of this situation..."

On the other side, there was a moment of silence. Then, Heeseung spoke in an unusually serious tone.

'Y/n... Nothing happened. Really. You know I don’t want to ruin everything with this nonsense especially now that I’m adjusting the rhythm on the track." You got up from the restaurant table, away from your friends to find a quiet corner.

"So, if there was nothing, why are you calling me? You know I’ll do what I always do: I’ll fix the situation, I’ll make the photos disappear, and keep your image intact. But, honestly, I’m starting to think you enjoy making me feel bad, every time I’m not with you you always do one."

On the other side of the line, Heeseung looked almost wounded.

'This not so. I know I give you a lot of work, but I didn’t want this thing to come to you. I just... I trust you. And I don’t want you to think bad of me.'

"I don’t think badly of you, Heeseung. It’s my job. Only... sometimes it would be nice to spend a Saturday without having to make up for something."

Sorry. I do. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again."

"All right. Send me everything: photos, videos, anything that can help me solve it. And, Heeseung... Maybe next time you won’t get too close to anyone, even just to talk. You know that it takes one click to blow up the internet."

Heeseung laughed slightly but in a sincere tone

"Promise. Thank you, y/n. You’re the best, you know?"

"I know. And now leave me alone, I want to finish the evening without any more surprises."

All right, all right. Good evening...and don’t think too much, see you in Belgium.'

You hung up and snorted, god could not stand it when it was like that and the words of Jay resonated in your head << You know that Mercedes is looking for a PR for next season, if Heeseung makes you work even when you shouldn’t think about it because I don’t cause trouble and my other teammate too>

Spa Gp (Belgium)

The Friday and Saturday passed quickly, between technical briefings and free practice. Spa was a track that gave many riders the creeps, but Heeseung loved it. The fast curves, the slopes, the iconic Eau Rouge: it was everything he loved about racing and gave him that adrenaline that made him vibrate with its light.

When the time came for qualifying, Heeseung looked like a man on a mission. The atmosphere in the paddock was tense, dark clouds over the circuit threatened rain, but he was as concentrated as ever. He got into the car, ready to give his all and take another pole position because he was a magician in the dry ride.

In the first fast lap, he had already shown that he was fit. He was clean, precise, and almost surgical in his trajectories and his radio engineer was enthusiastic.

Engineer :

"P1 for now, Hee! Great job, but Jay is behind by a tenth."

His second lap was even more impressive. He passed the Eau Rouge with the gas completely open, the car seemed to dance under him. In the final part of the track, under a sky now black as ink, he managed to gain more fundamental milliseconds.

When he crossed the finish line, the clock was clear: he was in pole position.

Engineer :

"P1 ! Pole position! Heeseung! You’re a monster!"

Heeseung banged his hands on the steering wheel for happiness and when he turned on the radio he shouted 'P1 baby! The car is a lightning bolt I can’t wait for tomorrow to fight for victory.

At the finish line, Heeseung raised his fist as he stepped out of the car in victory, while everyone in the Ferrari pit was exploding with cries of joy.

After qualifying you were back in the Ferrari motorhome, watching the replay of Heeseung’s lap. It was amazing, as always. But you couldn’t share the team’s enthusiasm.

When he came back, still euphoric, he approached you with that smile that usually could melt anyone.

«So, my favorite PR what does she think about the ride? Impressive, right?»

He passed you to go up in his motorhome with crossed arms.

"Yes, it was a good lap. But we’ll see tomorrow in the race. Pole doesn’t count if you don’t take the result home."

Heeseung froze, slightly surprised by the coldness in your voice.

«Wow, you are the queen of the tifo, eh? Come on, Y/n a little enthusiasm! I gave everything today and it’s not everyone to pole at Spa!» You raised an eyebrow, keeping your icy gaze.

"Heeseung, you know that what you do on the track is great, and don’t need me to tell you, you’re fated and if it’s not this year next year you’ll be fighting for the world championship."

He stopped, surprised by your voice. He had noticed the hardness of your words and never had seen you so distant.

«Come on, don’t do that. What’s wrong?»

You were unable to hold back, opened the door of his motorhome room, and entered both.

"You’re treating me like a puppet, Heeseung! Every weekend it’s the same! You get what you want, flirting with everyone, and you always get in trouble, the executives of Ferrari call me to solve your problems even during weekends off. I’m tired of being your PR!"

Heeseung tried to approach, but you stopped him with a cold look.

"I want to look around. Maybe it’s time I had a chat with someone like Jay or Sunghoon, see if in Mercedes or Red Bull they treat me as a person and not as a slave of your ego."

Your words struck Heeseung like a stab. His heart stopped for a moment, and an unexpected wave of jealousy swept over him without warning. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The idea that you could look around, away from him, drove him crazy.

Hee this time approached you and with a low, furious voice said to you

«Don’t make me say what I think. Don’t test me.»

He had an expression of anger on his face and you did not back down, rather challenged him with your gaze with the same intensity. The tension between you was palpable, the air seemed to overheat. Then, in a sudden and determined movement, Heeseung grabbed you by the wrists and pushed you against the wall.

«If you think that someone else looks at you like this or that you deserve in their life you are wrong, now I’ll show you what it means to be with me, Y/n.»

His warm breath touched your skin, and you were paralyzed for a moment. But there was no fear in his eyes. Only anger and frustration.

"What do you want from me, Heeseung? Why can’t you treat me like a person?" And I pushed him slightly to run away from him

His body was contracting, but at that moment something in Heeseung snapped. He wanted you, only you, and felt the anger grow inside him like a fire. He came even closer, so much so that his breath felt caress your skin. Then, without warning, he kissed you with force.

The kiss was intense, almost violent as if trying to communicate everything we could not say. Heeseung’s mouth moves against yours with a rush that surprised you but however much you wanted to resist, you couldn’t ignore the attraction between you two, that tension that had bound you from the beginning.

He gently pulls your hair with one hand and holds your jaw with the other, deepening the kiss, practically sticking his tongue in your mouth and establishing dominance from the beginning, Your hands fall on his muscular shoulders and you draw him closer to you and your hips come desperately close to his to quench your thirst. It is a huge boost to his ego of Heeseung when he hears you moan something indestructible and with his big brawn lifts you slightly and puts you in the small raised bed where before the race they did the massages, you slightly spread your legs with one hand and stands between you two. You had the perfect hair, the cherry lip dye that you used to use in your face, the chest that lifts and lowers, and the icing on the cake for Heeseung was to see you wearing a bra as sexy and red as his car as well as his favorite color.

« Fuck, did you do it on purpose to wear this bra? Who would have thought that my PR wore sexy braces so short that she didn’t look like a good girl anymore.»

Heeseung had begun to attack your neck, his lips clinging to every inch of your skin and leaving beautiful red marks. You would tell him to be careful not to make them too evident but you were in a state of trance and pleasure when you felt a hand of Hee come down where your little skirt was to slightly pinch your thighs full, Until he made little circles inside your already slightly wet panties and starts rubbing against his hand, not caring how Hee couldn’t help but smile as he moved his lips towards your full bosom.

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible before catching one of your nipples in his mouth and slowly pulling him into the tufts that he had long for his mullet haircut.

"I am not your property, Heeseung. You do not own me. I will never be." You heard a light laugh coming from the boy who was sucking your nipples in his closet and this time he pinched the flesh of your thigh and screamed from pain but also from excitement. " Heeseung"

Hee laughed and his hands found the edge of your red Ferrari skirt that you had to use as a uniform during the summer gp and thanked the stylist for giving him this opportunity to touch you thanks to that skirt.

«Mmm, if you weren’t mine you wouldn’t be here moaning my name Sweetie! See your panties wear my favorite PR» Heeseung saw that you had a red lace outfit even underneath your panties and formed a grin bowed slightly and took one of your legs if he put it over his shoulder and with his fingers slightly calloused you he moved his panties and smiled when he saw you were already totally soaked for him.

You leaned against the cold wall while Hee put two fingers in. At first, he was slow and careful. He wanted to give you the chance to back off if you didn’t feel comfortable enough to do all this with him but when he realized that you really wanted it, he allowed himself to relax and start his work. His steady rhythm did not last long: every second that passed, he pushed only faster, wishing to hear you groan again and again. He kept looking up from your chest, watching your expressions and smiling to himself as he alternated sucking your breasts, especially your full and hard buds, and left marks everywhere in your body. You began to move your hips towards his hand, desperately chasing even more pleasure.

His fingers went deeper and from your mouth came sounds that Heeseung was ecstatic and thought every time he touched himself when he thought of you.

«Tell me,» said Heeseung. You heard it but did not answer. «What it’s like to get fingered by a guy you can’t stand but at the same time that makes you feel all these feelings and we’re doing it where everyone could hear or see us, Y/N!» you have silenced Hee by quickly pulling his hair, your free hand clings to his shoulders, your nails are embedded in the skin exposed by his toned and muscular physique for the many hours of training.

"Hee...it’s so beautiful" you replied moaning and the boy next to you was overwhelmed with adrenaline and groans for praise. You were soaked and with the thumb tickled even more your clitoris and did not stop giving pleasure just as you were about to reach orgasm Heeseung believed that he came too while he felt liquid wet boxer shorts and had slightly hard balls. It hides its face in the hollow of your neck, now stimulating your clitoris with its thumb and making you go into a frenzy.

«Come for me», mumbles right against your ear. A shiver runs through your back before you succumb and the knot in your stomach melts. Heeseung kept you while you were coming, trying with all his might not to go with you because not only would it be embarrassing but also because you would surely have made fun of him.

Heeseung pulled out his fingers once you calmed down. You smiled because you still did not have the energy to talk and say what you thought about everything that happened in that closet...nor did you have the energy to do anything else. Heeseung smiled at you with a grin as he was busy wiping his fingers using his mouth, naturally and winked at you and his look became darker, more intense, and without saying a word, he slowly released it. He pulled down your skirt and went to get the shirt that he had taken off and put it back on you as if you were his favorite doll and put in your ear gently a fluttering tuft that you had in your hair and slightly lowered to your ear and said «It doesn’t end here, Y/n. You are mine and you will be forever»

In Belgium Heeseung won the race and in Hungary, things went well for Hee came p3 but Y/n did not want to sleep with him or stay next to him for that 2 gp pretended that nothing happened between them two and stayed as much as possible with Jungwon. In Holland, Hee felt very tired and wanted to sleep with Y/n but both he and she were embarrassed and they were mostly stubborn, which was a disaster for the Ferrari in general Hee went crashed and when he came back in his boxer pissed and looked coldly Y/n, He absolutely wanted to talk with you but before there were the briefing and interviews to do and when he arrived in the room was exhausted and slept and no 4 hours, on Sunday they arrived in the points area miraculously both him and Jungwon. He just wanted to relax and find a way to talk to you and perhaps knowing all your habits knew where you were at that time and a small smile took possession of his face.

He knew you were probably in the pool, as you often did after a hard day, trying to relax. When he arrived he saw you swimming smoothly, your arms drawing elegant lines in the water, fully concentrated as if you were trying to clear your mind. Heeseung watched your body move, as usual, but this time it wasn’t just admiration. There was desire, anger, and a strange feeling of possessiveness that he could not suppress.

He approached slowly, his heart beating fast and when you noticed him you stopped looking at him with that mix of confusion and challenge that he liked so much but now it seemed more difficult to face. Without thinking too much, he took off his shirt, despite the back pain, and immersed himself in the water with determination. Every fiber of his body cried against his physical state, but he wanted you close.

«Don’t run away, Y/n. I’m tired of playing these games»

You tried to get away but Heeseung reached out, took you by the wrist, and held you firmly. His warm breath touched your skin and you felt a shiver run down your back. You were trapped, but not in the way he thought. It wasn’t fear, you were confused by all the feelings you had for him.

«Why don’t you look at me? I won’t let you go and you know it. I want to see you give in.» You stared at it, and the beating of your heart increased while your body struggled between the desire to escape and the attraction that felt growing. Then, without warning, Heeseung came even closer, his hands touching you gently, but with an intensity that left no doubt. It slid down your skin, from arms to hips, and you couldn’t help but feel that sensation.

«You are mine, Y/n. You always have been, only you don’t want to admit it.»

His words were a sweet poison, a game you no longer knew how to play. You felt Heeseung’s hands touching you in a possessive way, as if he wanted to mark you as if he wanted to remind you that despite your attempts to get away from him you had never been truly free of him.

You tried to push him away but Heeseung wouldn’t let go. With a quick movement, he kissed you. It wasn’t a sweet kiss, but a violent one. His lips pressed against yours with urgency, while Heeseung’s hands went into your legs and carried them around her waist. You pushed him slightly, but he, with a cry choked by desire and frustration, pulled you even closer and you tied your arms around his floor.

«Don’t pretend that it doesn’t drive you crazy. I know what you want. I can see it in your eyes.»

You looked up and started to pull his hair slightly while he sucked your neck and bit it slightly and between the breathless breaths you said:

"You can’t... you can’t... not with me, I don’t want to be another one of your stupid awards. I’m more than this Heeseung."

Heeseung kissed you again, but with a fierce rage as if he was trying to take possession not only of your body but also of your soul.

«I need you Y/n, not as my prize but as my girlfriend. God, from the first day I saw you, you drive me crazy, you’re the only one who can hold my head, the only one who hates my flirting, and the only one who can understand me and see not only the F1 driver but also my most vulnerable part» You felt your heart beat like crazy and you did yes with your head and while accompanying you in his room he never took off his hands from your body and when you reached his room immediately pushed you into his large bathroom where from the large window of saw all the panorama of the city and the sunset in the darkness.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, feel his gaze crossing your face. His eyes stopped on your lips and smiled again, With the air of fun and when he put you under the jet of water shivered a little until you felt the big hands of Heeseung soapy gently all over your body and made you a small soap bubble by pressing lightly a jar of soap to relieve the tension between you two and when he saw you laugh slightly he hugged you and washed your hair gently. «God, how good it is to feel the bath foam I use on you Y/n, I can not wait to fuck you and to smell your scent against mine» he leaned forward, catching your lips in another kiss and you moaned needy in his mouth, pressing your hips against his and he unlaced the little triangle costume you had and when your breast came out with one hand he held you still and with the other started to bite your sensitive bud both because of the excitement but also of the hot water coming down and It gave you slight chills After a while he moved to release the piece under your bra and bent slightly. You groaned as his teeth sank into your thigh, giving a strong sucking so as to leave its mark. " I guess I won’t wear skirts and shorts so soon I’ll have to put on the autumn uniform even with 30 degrees..." You didn’t mean it because God, wanted everyone to see the signs that he left for you.

«I guess not, every time I saw you in that red-hot skirt I always felt my cock getting hard because of you» he growled as he left you some more lollipops along the inside of your thighs, enjoying how you were writhing under him and groaning his name.

His tongue slid along the outer part of your pussy, flattening against the length, then sliding his tongue up and down the crack, plunging just past the entrance to your core. The little jolts and tremors that flowed through your body, together with your choking moans and high-pitched whimpers were absolute perfection for his ears, and Hee turned off the hot water and buried her face as deep as possible. It was intoxicating, the taste of your pussy, sweet and slimy with your excitement, and practically drooling on it was seriously fucked by your body, how you moaned his name, how you teased him every day, and how only you could understand it and have it all for yourself.

«I thought you couldn’t stand me or to be honest that you hated me at the beginning of the F1 season but now look at you are here moaning my name» You pulled Heeseung’s hair slightly and said, "I never hated you, but sometimes you’re so damn annoying that it’s hard to be your PR or stand by you."

"God, please," you complained, the voice that grew faint in a slight groan at the end as Hee ate your soggy pussy as if there was no tomorrow. Until then you had forgotten what pleasure was. His long callused fingers surrounded your wet pussy hole, pushing past your folds to massage against the tensed muscle with every dive of her mouth.

"Hee is even more beautiful than last time, please!" Your back bowed against the cold shower tiles, eyes closed and a low moan in your throat, your body quickly reached the point of no return. «Come for me, Sweetie, only for me»

You pushed your hips forward, rubbing you but you were ripped from that moment of pure bliss when he stuck a long finger inside you and shoved it back and forth quickly pumping it.

His name slipped from your lips in a whisper, his fingers stopped half-thrust. Your pussy was shaking around his finger and kept moving his hand through the bedtime shocks, letting the moment of bliss last as long as possible, watching you keep on wailing and wailing as you came.

«You are so beautiful, Y/n», he whispered as he slowly kissed your lips, his eyes kept wandering up and down the length of your naked figure and he turned on the water and trembled at the contact next to him. " I need you, Hee, please" You started to pump slightly its length and smiled at you «Mm, my favorite PR that asks me to be his, who would ever have thought that my impure dreams become real?» He smiled and leaned forward again, kissing you with small kisses on the neck. His free hand wandered on the lower part of your back caressing your bottom.

«Do you trust me?» you made a sign of yes and slowly took you in his arms and slammed you against the cold shower tiles and slowly with a dry push slid its full length inside you in one single strong and decisive blow and you yelled slightly for the cold contact of the wall and its length within you.

"Hee" you mumbled his name, your legs were wrapped around his hips, and his cock kept diving into you, encountering your desperate whimpers as your hands clenched around his strong biceps that held you tight. Heeseung cursed and dropped his face in your neck and drops of boiling water fell between your bodies and moved a lock of hair from Heeseung and groan pressed against your neck when he took another push.

«Holy shit, why we have not done it before, this body, this pussy is made only for and for no other man» You writhed in place as his hand was clinging to your thigh and around the curve of your back. "Heeseung".

«Fuck Y/n, say my name again, like that. You’re so fucking beautiful with my dick inside of you.» His forehead leaned against yours, nibbling your lower lip, and told you something you would never think of hearing in your life «I love you so much, you make me crazy from morning to night, only you can» He pushed his hips into your tighter hole stronger.

"I love you too, I don’t know...how it happened or when" his lips kissed you avidly, passionately, moving as sharply as her thrusts, Water slippery and you felt his thumb tickling your clitoris, and small moans of pleasure came out of your lips when with a sharp push hit your G-spot.

«Let go, Sweetie, come everywhere on my dick like a good girl you are!» It takes a couple of long, powerful thrusts before you find yourself yelling his name, coming hard on his dick. Your hips are contracting as his cock is sticking deep inside you, The sperm splashes into you and you feel so good after so long after a while Heeseung comes out of you and holds you against his chest, and leaves you some slight caresses that start from the bottom of your back to reach your hips.

«Are you all right? Or was it too much for you, sweetie?» Look up slightly and see him for the first time with a sincere smile, his hair all ruffled and attached to the forehead and with red cheeks because of the heat.

"it was perfect but don’t get your head in the sand, already your ego is big enough, and maybe something else too" You looked slightly down embarrassed, and after a little bit felt Heeseung’s hands take your face and kiss you with lips. «I have to tell you a secret but also you, don’t get too excited» You looked curious and felt his breath next to your ear and said «You’re better than a race won on the last lap»

OMG🌹 i hope you enjoyed this story. Heeseung in my head gives me too many vibes from Ferrari driver, comments are appreciated and also reblogs.

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witchthewriter · 2 days ago

Text

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐃𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: I know I've written about Daryl x reader in a relationship, but I'm rewatching The Walking Dead and UGH I love him...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTP

Hufflepuff

Chaotic Good

Taurus Sun, Scorpio Moon, Aquarius Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・The perfect example of your marriage is that scene from Yellowstone at the bar. Here's the link. Warnings: Violence :)

・Yes, so you and Daryl have a very close relationship - it has taken you a long time to get to this point.

・But marriage meant you two would be staying together for life. And Daryl knew that. No one was taking you away from him.

・You two met at the very beginning; in the camp with Lori, Carl, Carol, Dale, Andrea, Shane, Glenn etc.

・You abhorred Merle and gave him as much as you could - cussing him out, calling out his actions etc. You were always right but Merle was Merle.

・And you grouped Daryl with his brother; although he didn't say much.

・When Merle wasn't around, you actually got the time to see Daryl differently.

・He was really growing on you.

・You had no idea that he was wrestling with certain feelings as well.

・Your relationship was ... a slowburn to say the least. But you always looked out for each other. Made sure one another had enough food and water.

・There developed a constant between the two of you. Where one went, the other wasn't far behind. Especially when the group would split up

・You always found your way back to each other

・And yet, neither of you could see how much the other cared. Even though the whole group - even the new members - could see it.

・Though he comes off as rough and gruff to most, Daryl would have a soft spot for you. You’d be the only one who gets to see his gentler, more vulnerable side.

・

𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹

・Daryl was anxious all day, you even saw his hands shake before he saw it and shoved them in his pockets.

・You were worried; he never kept anything from you. Not even when you were just best friends.

・So you went to Carol, she shrugged her shoulders and gave you that knowing look. It calmed your own nerves down, because when Daryl is anxious; you are tenfhold.

・That night you were getting ready for watch, but a knock came at the door.

・It was Michonne.

"Hey, you wanna come in? I'm gonna start my shift soon but I can make us something tea?"

"It's okay, and don't worry about your shift; I have something for you to do."

"Oh okay, sure."

・You followed Michonne past the gardens, the crops and up to the doors of Alexandria and out into the nearby forest.

"We ugh, made sure the area was clear. You don't need to worry about a thing."

・She gave you one of her knowing smiles and you knew something was up...it made you nervous.

・Once Michonne disappeared, you heard the crunching of leaves.

・Quickly you whipped out your knife and swiped as you turned, only to be met by a large hand grabbing your arm.

"Thought I taught ya better than tha'" Daryl said, letting go of your arm and giving you a smile

"You did. I knew it was you. Heavy boots were giving me a heads up."

・It was then that you noticed his appearance; washed, with a clean black button up shirt, and a fresh pair of jeans.

・You quirked an eyebrow.

"What is this Dixon?"

Hesitating, Daryl rubbed the back of his neck with his calloused hand, eyes darting briefly to the ground before meeting yours.

“Been thinkin’,” he started, shifting his weight between one leg to the other. “’Bout us… and all the shit we've gone through...”

You stepped closer to him. Closing the gap. And your heart started pumping a whole lot faster.

"-You know I ain’t good with words,” he muttered in a low voice. “Specially ain’t good at all this… romantic stuff. But you—you’re the best thing...that has ever happened to me. Hell, you're the only thing that makes sense in this goddamn world.”

・Your cheeks started to redden but you let him talk

From his pocket, Daryl pulled out something small and clenched in his hand, his fingers trembling just slightly.

You let out a soft, "oh." Thinking this day would never come.

When he opened his hand, there it was—a simple, gold ring.

“I know it ain’t much,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's perfect," the tears had started to fall now. You didn't even notice you had begun to cry.

Daryl sniffed, not realising he had shed a few tears as well. "...I just want you to know… you’re my family now. Always have been.”

He held the ring out to you.

"I don't know how long we have in this world. But I know I wanna spend it with you."

There was a moment of silence. One you let hang in the air, not truly believing this was happening.

"So… what d’ya say?”

・The look on his face was pure and full of love.

"God I love you Daryl Dixon."

・Slipping the ring on your finger, you realised how comfortably it fit. You gave Daryl a knowing look and he gave you a sheepish one.

"...measured your finger when you were sleepin'...also had help from Carol..."

You couldn't help but laugh.

"You know I'm getting you one, right? I want everyone to know you're taken. That Daryl Dixon is mine."

"Wouldn't expect anything else."

・Then he kissed like it was your very first and last kiss.

The kiss was unlike anything you’d ever felt—raw, deep, and so full of emotion that it left you breathless. His lips claimed yours with an intense passion.

His hands trembled slightly, and cradled your face. Holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world; well, to him you were.

Pulling apart, he rested his forget against your own and whispered:

“Ain’t never lettin’ you go.”

In that moment, the world outside could have crumbled, and it wouldn’t have mattered. All that existed was you and him.

𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹

・Being married to Daryl Dixon meant having someone completely and utterly loyal to you.

・He calls you his family; and when he does so, you know it comes from a place of deep sincerity and respect.

・Instead of grand romantic displays, Daryl shows his love in quiet ways, like fixing something for you, preparing food, or just staying by your side during tough times.

・Daryl would be the ultimate protector, keeping you safe at all costs.

・You have your own place together. Not too far from everyone but secluded enough that you feel independent

・A common part of your nightly routine is cuddling up together on the couch and eventually falling asleep. (Daryl already having locked all the doors and has weapons around the house - just in case. He's not leaving anything to chance.)

・You've both shared everything you know about survival with one another.

・One of your ideas was to make a book about it. How to survive in this mess of a world; Daryl has fully encouraged it. He said it would come in handy for the next generations...

・Daryl thrives in the quiet moments of your marriage—sitting together by a fire, riding his motorcycle with you behind him, working on something side by side in comfortable silence.

・He also has a way of surprising you with such tenderness. E.g., brushing hair from your face or resting his forehead against yours in silent appreciation.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

"Look at that stupid dumbass man, ha! Oh shit that's my dumbass-" (Daryl)

Short & bossy x Tall & follows them around

"Think they'll try us?" x "Fuck I hope so."

"Why Are You Babying Me?" (Daryl) x "'Cause I Know You Like It" (You)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Forced Proximity

Strong Feelings (Thinking It's Hate - WRONG It's Love)

Enemies to Lovers

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Sex On Fire by Kings of Leon

Into My Arms by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

One More Hour by Tame Impala

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon headcanons #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #witchthewriter #headcanons #the walking dead daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead headcanons #relationship tropes #hufflepuff #hogwarts house #relationship headcanons #relationship dynamics

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sasahuaa · 2 days ago

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Guide on how to get married (by the God of Spring)

Synopsis: To love and be loved is the greatest blessing both deities received, as conversations about the future started to arise, the deity of the Underworld was afraid of forever ruining their lover, but the god of spring begs to differ.

A retelling with Persephone!Childe and Hades!gn!reader

first time writing more os reader’s pov instead of the character bc it would fit better in this, honestly both Childe and reader bullshit their perspective a lot, reader is a bit insecure but not unwilling, and Childe kinda comforts them in the end, the three-day ceremony is a mention how the ancient greek did weddings but not very much dived into in this situation (I tried to research how gods used to marry in mythology but I didn’t find any descriptions, just a “oh and then they got married/was forced to marry”, genuinely, is there any hellenic text that describes it? so this fic is just a non conventional way of eloping)

The god of spring giggled merrily as he put a flower crown on your head, his deft fingers making the flowers bloom and release pollen, he lowered his hands until they wrapped around your neck, blowing wind to your face with plenty of petals following his will.

Years ago, when both of you met for the first time, he wasn't as keen to physical touch like he is now, seeking your warmth willingly and falsely whining when his needs aren't met. Your younger selves met during one of your outings from the Underworld, the melancholic reign is suffocating and gloomy on good days, and a living nightmare in the worsts.

To look at the bright sky and hear the song of the birds were incomparable experiences after dealing with the screams of agony from wandering souls. And though Childe couldn't say he faced the same situation, he still delighted anytime he ran away too far away from his home, for to go around the world filled him with indescribable joy.

It was kind of amusing, if not borderline insane, that from all the people that he could choose to have a relationship with, from gods to mortals, he would choose just the one that home was almost like a prison.

And there was always a pinch of guilt when you thought about the future, Childe would often babble about it, how he wanted to spend it with you, to the decorations and foods your house should have to the names of possible pets. This saddens you so, because for the way the god talked, it would mean that the Underworld would lock him in.

For all the years spent together, though still indulging him in his dreams when he mentions them, you never really took a step to really achieve them. It was just obvious, marrying the deity of the underworld is the worst fate to exist.

And you loved him so much, he was really the ray of sunshine that your home misses, a flame of affection so gentle that contrasts with the cold and dark walls of your palace. Being with him was one of the best things that happened to you, as his love for you also burns deep and is capable of igniting even a forest of ice, and yet, your heart hurted from imagining how miserable Childe would be if they end up together forever.

You hoped that Childe saw that the same way, that it meant giving up his freedom to partake in the food from your realm. But yet, most things hardly ever go your way.

“We should marry already” he smiled, his eyes so usually dull sparkled at the mere word “It has been a while, don't you think so?”

“An” you avoided his eyes, the flower crown slowly started to wilt, though you were unsure if this was result of your own nervousness as you lost control of death or if it was a sign of Childe's impatience, and an excuse needed to be made quickly, before the other god lost his spark again! “I am not acquaintanced with marriage rituals, beloved”

Even if it was a dumb, shit excuse!

“Different cultures have different customs” Childe waved a finger before your face “As for the godly customs… while I would like the usual three-day ceremony, I would also very much appreciate a banquet in the name of our love.”

“Why not celebrate the three-day ceremony?”

“You know the other gods wouldn't agree to that” his shoulders slumped “Worst case scenario we should pretend that you kidnapped me”

“Oh” you blinked a couple of times before his suggestion downed on you, immediately making the probably most smart decision of pretending you heard nothing and focus on the important part, Childe's freedom! “Maybe the other gods have a point-”

“Never” Childe said between his teeth “I know what is better for myself”

“... I see”

“So the proper way our wedding should proceed is being served the best food of all realms!”

The best food of all realms! You certainly could work with that, after all, Childe never tasted the Underworld food to appoint it as the best, and since the only way for him to be imprisoned there is by eating its food… You could avoid giving it to him entirely!

“You are right” he smiled sweetly at the praise “When would be a proper date for our wedding?”

"Right now”

“... oh”

“Listen to me, this is the ideal moment, before anyone else get wind of this”

“Alright” you sighed, catching his hands in your and bringing to your mouth to deliver small pecks on his knuckles. The god of spring felt goosebumps up his arms at the cold touch, kissing your lips as if to warm them with his.

There was a strain in your stomach as you opened a cleft through the earth, a clear passage to the Underworld right in front of your feet. It's the first time that Childe will venture these walls, and you couldn't help but worry that he would feel grossed out by the dark surroundings.

Stealing a glance in his direction, Childe looked around the place in interest, there was almost a skip in his steps, and his smile was as bright as it was when the both of you first confessed.

“Nice landscape, it seems like a lovely place”

Well, you guess you should know by now that Childe is not easily scared by the things the other gods avoid.

The deity praised your palace as you guided him, not once releasing his grip on your hand the whole way. As you entered the dining room and pulled a chair for him, you muttered a lowly sorry “I know you asked for a banquet, but this situation is very sudden, so I won't have much food available”

“You worry too much, love, any food is good” Childe pinched your cheeks and dismissed you to the kitchens.

It was quite untrue to say that your home was lacking food, for even the undead or the other resident deities enjoy to regale themselves with good food from time to time, what is true is the short stock of Overworld food, as you don't bring much back with you during your trips and most are gifts to the sleep deity that their earthly friends give them.

Either way, with the little you have you carefully prepare his meal, with a side dish containing figs and lotuses, a wine glass also was included on the tray. You knew that everything that was plated were things that he enjoyed, everything was accounted for, as you do love him and don't want to serve Childe anything less than perfect.

And yet, when the dishes were placed before Childe and you saw his eyes slowly darken and the corner of his mouth tensing, you felt a chill up your spine and a sense of dread in your chest. Your body momentarily paralyzed when he began to talk.

“My love, why didn't you serve me Underworld food?” the god of spring recomposed himself, eyes searching for yours when he looked up.

“Ajax, my dear, you know that the Underworld food will forever bound you to this place, I would never lock you here-”

“Why?” he interrupts sternly “I am aware of the consequences of eating anything from the Underworld, I was reminded constantly by my mother about it after the first time I met you, and I asked for eloping with food with purpose in mind”

You gapped at his words, dropping to your knees by his side and talking his hands in yours “Still, it would take your freedom away from you, I don't want you to resent being stuck here”

“I chose to spend forever with you and this is something I will never regret” Childe tightened his grip on you “But now I wonder if you had the intentions of spending forever with me at all”

“Of course I want to stay forever with you!” you immediately deny, hugging him close “You know the great cost of it though”

Childe sighed and petted your back, his gaze softened while he looked at you and cupped your face, tapping his index finger under your eye in admonishment.

“And I entered our relationship knowing that, I know you worry about me, but I know since the start what I got myself into and have been dreaming of that” Childe took a lotus seed in the middle of his fingers, forcing your mouth open with his other hand and placing the delicacy on your tongue “Won't you bring me proper food now, beloved?”

I began to write this because I had the phrase “He is not stuck with me, I am stuck with him” in mind but I guess I changed the writing direction by the end

fully focusing on Vil as an omega now, I am terrible with dates bc I figured I am a very slow writer, but I will try my best to post till sunday

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gn reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact

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khizuo · 2 days ago

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if you could read this, it would genuinely mean the world to me.

For the comrades who originally reblogged and contributed to Maha’s last fundraiser, and wondered why their donations were returned… the piece of shit who originally hosted her GFM left her in the dirt, disappeared for months. And despite her contacting GFM to prove she’s the beneficiary, it wasn’t successful. Since that person never listed Maha as a beneficiary AND didn’t put their own legal name in the GFM. She never got the 4k USD raised.

Maha, my dear friend is a trans woman in Iraq. Life being extremely dangerous is an understatement, and she’s reached a breaking point of pretending to be someone she hates… she worked 3 jobs to save money to get out, but her savings were destroyed due to developing cancer because of American bombs…

I only want the best for her.

She’s seeking asylum in Canada, but it’s looking bad as the party coming into power in May after election is mostly likely the extremely anti-immigrant one. She sees no way out but she’s still trying to hang on.

Iraq is going to get bombed again this month. Yesterday she had to hang up in middle of the call because she could hear planes over her head..

There’s a lot more I can say but I’m trying to keep this brief, and be as vulnerable as I can.

I’m horrified to imagine a life without her, we’ve been friends for over a year. She finds the best Minecraft lets plays and random video essays on conspiracy theories and history for hang outs-- and every single time she can’t cope anymore and calls me out of despair and then hang up for hours to cry on her own, I worry so so much that this is the last time I will ever hear from her…

Tysm for reading. 💗 please help out in whatever capacity you can, she needs all the support she can get. And lastly, please hang on.

Please help an Iraqi trans woman seek asylum! She is a friend of one of my good friends and I've spoken to her before. Her situation has been very difficult and it has not been easy for her to make this choice to ask for help. Chip in what you are able, she's a great comrade and I really want her to get to safety.

#trans #lgbtq #my text #iraq

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nyxi-pixie · 17 hours ago

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loveee when fantasy uses magic as a metaphor for some kind of modern military weapon. tell me more about how the foot soldiers are nothing once dragons come into play, once the elements do, once pure unfiltered harm made by one persons hands does. youre too small for this. seasoned soldiers but you dont know what youre doing. you were raised on swords on axes on cold hard steel. this has none of that predictability. it doesnt matter what side youre on, the damage will be too wide, too unspecified, and the people using it dont give a fuck about you. they only care about winning. theyll send you to fight for them and wipe out half of your force in their efforts to decimate your enemies. and amongst all this damage, all this ruin, brought on you by the people who decided to go to war in the first place, you begin to wonder for the first time in your military career, why.

#i dont even like crispy cole but sometimes a girl gets to thinking too hard #and then extrapolating across other shit #and like. god. what the hell!!!!!!!#dragon nukes is crazyyyy #anyway. sorry world war two poetry but i am looking at a lot of you and going..... can i use this for my oc lore😍#LMAOOO #nyxis oc tag #astir..............

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archangeldyke-all · 6 hours ago

Note

ANGEEEEEEL DO A LITTLE FUCKER AND ISHA FIC AND MY LIFE IS YOURS 🫵🫵🫵

okay okay okay long awaited but let's do it finally ehheehehe

as always with these fics, don't ask me the logistics of how the pregnancy happened. it's yuri magic. have some fun.

men and minors dni

jinx is twenty when she decides to go to college. after a few years of taking care of herself-- through therapy, moving in with you and sevika, isha's good influence, and vi and ekko's support-- jinx finally felt ready to look to her future.

she got into a good school in piltover; full scholarship, because she's a fucking genius.

you don't worry about the workload overwhelming her, though she's decided to enroll in a dual degree program, studying chemistry and engineering at the same time.

you don't worry that her demons will catch up to her; she'll be living with cait and vi, and she'll be within walking distance of her therapist. plus, she's done a lot of good work for herself.

the only thing you worry about is isha.

though the girl is older now, around eight years old and much more used to you and sevika than she was when you first met, isha's favorite person in the entire world is still jinx. and the feeling is mutual. so, while jinx will spend her weeks with cait and vi up top, on weekends she'll come back to zaun to catch up with isha.

it's still a rough adjustment.

isha's just... lonely. you miss the giggles that used to fill your home-- isha entertained endlessly by her older sister's shenanigans. and despite all you and sevika have done to keep her occupied-- buying her new games and pets and books-- you can tell that isha's bored all alone.

"what if we had a baby?" sevika asks one night after you've turned off the lights and cuddled into her arms.

"another cat?" you mumble. sevika laughs.

"i was thinking a human baby, but we could get another cat if you want."

you sit up in bed, reaching out to flick a light on and stare down at your wife. "where the fuck is this coming from!?" you squeal.

sevika shrugs. "isha's lonely! we should give her a little sibling."

"wh-- like our own baby?! like one of us gets pregnant!?"

"well unless isha drags home a stray kid i don't see how else we'll get one." sevika chuckles.

you gawk at her. sevika smiles up at you. "s-sevika, we already have two to five children, depending on the day." you say.

sevika snorts. "ekko, cait and vi are ours only in spirit, love, they won't ever need us in the way jinx and isha do." she says. you pout. sevika snorts. "and jinx is all grown up, now." she reminds you.

tears well up in your eyes. "no she's not." you say, your pout worsening. sevika giggles and swipes your tears away.

"look; i know we said no kids when we started dating. but we said a lot of shit back then. remember when we thought we'd go hiking every saturday? we were crazy." sevika says. you giggle. "shit happened between then and now baby. life happened. deaths and marriage and adoptions and moves-- that kinda shit changes people. you changed me. and... we bought this big ass house for our family. might as well fill it up."

"well fuck, sevika, how many babies are you planning on giving me!?" you ask through a sob of happy tears. sevika laughs.

"as many as you'll let me." she says with a shrug.

you go to the doctor to talk about pregnancy the next week, only to find out that you're already a month into your first trimester.

"wh-- i'm-- but--" you sputter.

"she's already pregnant!?" sevika squeals.

the doctor laughs. "it would seem so. good timing."

sevika bursts into laughter and scoops you out of the doctor's paper covered seat, spinning you around her office and sobbing into your shoulder as you blink in shock.

"what the fuck?" you ask. sevika cackles.

on your drive home, you look over at your wife with a suspicious glare. "did you plan this?"

sevika laughs. "you think i'm that diabolical?"

"no, i just-- you decide you want a baby and boom, i'm magically already pregnant?!"

"i can probably smell it on you or somethin'-- my instincts could sense it. like how i can smell when you're ovulating."

you giggle. "that's probably how you knocked me up in the first place."

sevika grins. "fuck yeah it is. i did the math. i think it was the weekend we sent isha up to spend with the girls."

at the mention of your girls it hits you. you're about to have a baby. another one. your own-- one that you know from the first shit it takes.

you burst into tears, and sevika laughs. "there you go, i was waiting for that to happen."

"we're having a baby." you cry, scrambling to grab the hand she reaches across the console. "oh, janna, sev-- i don't know how to change diapers! all our other kids came to us potty trained!"

"i'll change all the diapers in the world, for you, love." sevika promises, kissing your knuckles. you laugh.

"you're such a liar."

isha's one smart little shit. you and sevika decide not to tell her until the second trimester, when it's less likely that you'll miscarry.

she figures it out within a week of you and sevika getting the news.

it could be the way sevika keeps touching your stomach, or the giddy kisses the pair of you keep exchanging when you think isha's not looking-- but something tips her off.

she sits you and sevika down one evening with a frown and her arms folded in front of her chest.

is there a baby in your belly? she signs. you sputter. sevika gasps. isha's suspicious glare melts into an excited smile. is there!? she asks with a gasp.

you burst into laughter and sevika shrugs. "we thought you might wanna be a big sister." isha grins, tears welling up in her eyes as she launches herself at you and sevika, laughing and crying.

i do. isha signs. i'm gonna be the best big sister ever. don't tell jinx. or violet.

you spend your pregnancy being waited on hand and foot by all your girls. vi, cait, and jinx all come to visit once or twice a week-- all three of them enchanted with your swollen stomach and always bringing baby supplies in tow.

isha makes a count-down to your due-date, bedazzles it and hangs it on the fridge so she can keep perfect track of how much longer she has to wait before meeting the baby.

isha's also started to call the baby her baby.

how many more doctors visits do you have before you have my baby? isha signs to you one afternoon as you wait in your doctor's office. you burst into laughter.

"your baby, huh?"

isha nods. i'm her sister! she signs, before gently reaching out and rubbing your stomach.

"what makes you think it's a girl?"

isha shrugs. most of your other babies are girls.

you cackle.

isha must be psychic, because your little girl comes into the world kicking and screaming in the middle of a family potluck.

it's horrible. violet passes out. surprisingly, ekko is the most helpful, giving everyone instructions and calling an ambulance for you while you wail on the living room floor.

isha's watching with a disgusted fascination the entire time, her lips curled in horror and shock, her eyes big and sparkling as she witnesses the miracle of birth.

powder and cait help keep you propped up-- both of them toweling up all your... fluids... while sevika holds your hand and kisses your head.

one baby, a ruined rug, and an ambulance ride to the hospital later, and your family finally gets to see you in better condition, and they get to meet your little girl under better circumstances.

"aweee." your four grown kids coo as they shove into the hospital room.

"hey, no shoving around the baby!" sevika whisper scolds.

isha pushes her way through all her older siblings, crawling up in sevika's lap to look down at her little sister.

she gasps in wonder. she looks like big mama. isha signs.

cait chuckles. "she does."

"what a little fucker, comin' out lookin' like the parent that did nothin..." vi teases. sevika scoffs and you giggle in agreement.

"she really is a little fucker. ruined our dinner." jinx huffs. "i was looking forward to that potroast, y'know."

isha giggles, pinching her fingers together, then flipping off the baby and pointing at her. little fucker.

you all burst into laughter. little fucker's silver eyes pop open, and she bursts into tears.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

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@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #i would love to do a part 2 to this bc #babies can start using sign language crazy early?? and i'm just imagining little fucker learning so early b/c of isha's influence #and then u've got a 8 year old and a 8 month old baby that can BOTH curse you out fluently in sign language LMAOOO

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slimybeth69 · 3 days ago

Text

Girl Dinner

@pedrospookie made the cutest fucking mood board for this fic, she also gave me so much inspiration for this! Let's all thank her for her perfect brain.

Part 1 of 4- Knocked Loose

Rating: explicit -

kidnapped!Joel x isolated&unhinged&potentially crazy!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions besides having hair long enough to hold and fall into your face, the reader is actually crazy, talks to herself- hears little voices in her head. You gotta know this going into it)

thanks to @bonezone44 for this idea.

w/c : 9k (whoops)

Summary: After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.

warnings/tags: non-con/dub-con/ altered mental state(?) throughout the entire thing. stockholm syndrome, violence (reader and Joel both get hurt) Joel is an unwilling participant... or is he? cockwarming, unprotected P in V, dirty talk- more to come.

authors note: Hey! I know a lot people get icked out by the idea of non-con or dub con, and that's fine, but I like it, so I'm gonna write this. I don't think any of this should be acted out ITRL. DON'T KIDNAP PEOPLE!! This is your last and final warning just so everyone is aware of what's going on. this is unbeta'd, poorly proofread and probably incoherent. I love you all so, so, so much.

The weather is finally starting to change, it's not as hot as a pigs asshole anymore, and you wake up feeling refreshed, rather than sticky and sour from sleeping in a pool of your own sweat all night long.

The first thought that comes to your head though isn't the changing weather, or how you'll eventually need to break out your warmer clothes soon, nope— you don't give a shit about any of that.

It's just Mister-man that you're thinking about.

He might be the most pretty thing you've ever seen. With his shoulder length, brown and gray curls, and his patchy facial hair that matches so nicely. The thought of how rough and scratchy it would feel against your tongue makes your spine tingle.

Mister-man is a big boy. Hefty, broad, and looked so strong whenever he came into the mall.

You've been watching him for a while. He comes around every three or four days snooping in all the stores for supplies.

It's like he doesn't even know you're here…or if he does, he doesn't care. Rude! You're a pretty girl!

He's just coming to take our stuff, just like the rest of the monster-men out there. If he finds us, he might wanna take-

"Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!" You put your hands over your ears, even though those voices just get louder when you do that.

Mister-man wouldn't hurt'chya…

Yes, he would. He's a man.

"It's too early for this," You grumble, sitting up in your bed.

The mattress store is nice and clean, just how you left it last night before you crawled into bed. You think about how it would be alarming if it wasn't exactly how you left it before you went to bed. You did your nightly walk-through to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be, and that there weren't any extras hanging about.

As you get dressed, you think about what the dark voice was about to say. You know exactly what Mister-man would try and take from you if he found you. What all the other men in this fucking place want from you.

It's hard to make any of that matter as you skip to your hiding spot in the rafters above the food court. That's where he always enters from, even though the easier entrance with less glass and boards to climb through is on the other side of the mall.

It's a good thing you set up a trap there too, if he comes in through that entrance, at least you'll hear the snare go off and hopefully get to him in time to get his gun and knife.

Mister-man is a creature of habit, he doesn't like to switch things up, Sug. He'll come through this door.

He might. He might not. Mister-man might be playing your game better than you, kid.

"Well then, it's a good thing I thought of everything," you murmur, climbing up the discarded scaffolding to get into the rafters.

It's not scary up here, you like the thrill of knowing if you made one mistake—

Goner!

Splat!

"I've never fallen though!" You giggle, settling in to the perch just above the now blown out glass doors. It's a comfortable little spot, and you've arranged some blankets and pillows from the mattress store up here so you can nap if you want. There are some snacks, and bottles of water in case you have to stay up here for more than just a couple hours, keeping an eye out for Mister-man.

People must have stayed here in the mall during the outbreak, or right after because the doors are boarded up the best they can be, and the tables and chairs from the food court are set up all around like a barricade.

It was perfect, less work for you to have to do, and no one else bothers to come in here anymore— it's either too far, too hard to get too, or not worth the pay out.

Not for our lovely, handsome, soon to be perfect, Mister-man; the reason he comes every week is so sweet.

You wondered why he kept coming back when there really isn't much to scavenge anymore: every single store had been picked through before you got here, and you went and took the last of whatever anyone else didn't want or need and squirreled it away in a nice hiding spot.

Mister-man came every three or four days-- so that he could sit his ass in a comfortable recliner for a couple hours.

Remember that time he took a nap?

"Of course I do! How could I forget?!"

It's the cutest thing, and you love to watch him relax. Rest. Let his guard down for a little while.

"Slept like a lil baby that day," you mumble, feeling the heat spread up your neck and behind your cheeks. It's impossible to not smile at the memory of Mister sleeping in his chair, arms behind his head, snoring loudly.

His hair was real soft...'n he smelled so..

Why does he let us get so close? It's gotta be a trap.

Oh shut up, maybe he wants us to get close!

"I don't think he can hear me too good," you breathe out to the empty mall. The sun is starting to shine directly in your eyes— which means Mister-man will be here soon. "Always lookin' over his left shoulder. He never looks over his right, me thinks he can't hear outta that ear."

Mister has been coming for a couple months. He first started when the snow started to melt. And he kept coming through the spring when everything was wet and soggy, and he'd traipse mud through the mall like this wasn't your house!

That's how you knew he had been there though, so you waited to see if he'd come back-- and he did.

Mister-Man kept coming, even when the summer got so hot it was almost unbearable. Venturing outside was almost dangerous, but Mister always came.

Just to sit in his chair.

The air is filled with the sounds of birds singing, and insects buzzing in the lazy, summer heat. The mornings aren't too bad anymore, but the afternoon is still sweltering.

The late afternoon's are even worse when the heat finally settles, and everything gets sticky, and feeling all wet even though it's not wet outside! It's hot, but the air feels thick and damp somehow.

Awh, looks like he ain't coming today, Sug.

Good-fucking-riddance.

"He'll show up. If not today… tomorrow…or the next day. Or next week! He always comes, sillies. Gettin' me all nervous for nothin—"

Shhhhhh!!!! He's coming.

Mister-man is coming. You can hear him before he even crawls through the hole in one of the boards. He has to slide the table he sets up every time he comes and goes.

Once he's upright, brushing himself clean of any debris that he might have picked up on his crawl into the mall, he starts to walk.

It's not hard to stay quiet, you know exactly where the spots that creak are, and where things might break and fall apart if you were to put too much weight on them.

It's easier to follow him around as he slinks through the abandoned shopping center than you thought, as long as you stay on his right side. You've been watching and learning, and had a long time to figure him out.

Mister is so cute, walking real slow with his back to the wall, his head on a constant swivel. You wanna call out to him and tell him it's just the three of you in the mall.

He continues to sneak very quietly.

Can't hide from us.

"He sure can't," you giggle, almost silently.

Mister-man pauses, and looks over his left shoulder, as if something caught his attention. He looks all around, head twisting in either and all directions. At one point, he looks right up at where you're standing.

It's like he's looking right at you, like he can see you flitting through the rafters right above him.

Mister-man just shakes his head, as if he was hearing things, and continues onward towards the furniture store.

Fuck, he really can't hear for shit.

"He sure can't."

Mister doesn't make it inside the furniture store today, unfortunately for him.

When Joel wakes up, his head is fucking pounding and— he's upside down. Shit.

Not again.

"What the fuck?" Joel croaks, his hands feel like they weigh a thousand pounds as he tries to lift them from where they're dangling over his head. His shoulders hurt, and his back aches. His ankles feel like they're on fire.

There isn't much he can do but hang here, waiting for his vision to un-blur and for the throbbing in his head to go away.

Probably get gutted like a pig.

Finally, after blinking a million times, Joel can see things clearly.

You- a young woman- with a gun in your hand, another strapped to the outside of your thigh, and a fucking machete strapped across your back.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" Joel shouts, his hands now easily flying to the holster—It's empty. The pack he had been carrying on his back is gone too.

Joel watches as you look at him like he should already know what you're doing: a half smile plastered onto your pretty lips, the crinkle at the corners of your eyes, your head tilted to the side ever so slightly, couching in front of his pack.

"Lookin' through your stuff," you croon to him.

Joel's blood boils. What the fuck are you doing? Who the fuck are you? How did you manage to get him all strung up, hanging from the ceiling?

He says nothing as you stay picking through his backpack, taking out every single thing he has in there. His map, compass, the backup flashlight, the gas-mask— which you're putting on?

Why? There weren't any spores in here— were there?

"This thing is fuckin' cool!" Your voice is muffled, and you stand up straight. Then you hold your hands out at your sides, and spin in a circle.

"Hey!" Joel barks at you, flinching away from the revolving barrel of your pistol with each rotation you make. "Stop swinging that thing around, would ya'!?" Joel shouts as you continue to spin.

You stop suddenly, and stare at him through the big, dark lenses of his gas mask. "You know all about swinging around, don'tchya?" You giggle at him.

Joel literally swings back and forth as you say this, very slowly spinning around as he sways, and the throbbing in his head only makes him more angry.

"Cut me the fuck down, keep what'chya want— I don't got time for all this," Joel grumbles, lifting his head so he can look at the rope tied around his ankles. It's a good knot, and without a knife, Joel isn't going to get down on his own, not without his knife.

He reaches behind him to feel for it on his belt—

"Lookin' for this?" Your still muffled voice questions Joel as his fingers brush across the empty space on his waist where his knife would be.

He tips his head almost all the way back, and then to the side so he can see you— and is greeted by the sight of you, still in the gas mask, and now, holding his knife by the blade with your thumb and index finger. All he can do is sigh, close his eyes and wonder how a trip to sit in his favorite recliner led to this.

"Now, I ain't really wanna hurt'chya— I was hopin' you was gunna say knocked out long enough for me to cut'cya down and—"

Joel doesn't wanna hear anymore. "Just cut me the fuck down— people are gon' come lookin' for me if you—"

You apparently don't wanna hear what Joel has to say anymore either, because you start to talk over him. "—we're just gunna go—"

Joel doesn't care, doesn't want to listen to your muffled voice— he wishes you would take his stupid, fucking gas mask off and talk to him like a normal person. He's gotta be able to barter with you somehow. "—don't let me go. If it's food 'n water ya' want, I can get ya' some—"

The two of you are just talking louder, and louder, until the both of you are shouting over the other, neither one of you actually hearing what the other is saying.

"—let me go!"

"—stay forever!"

The two of you stop and stare at each other in silence for a moment. Joel can't really comprehend what you just said, "Stay forever?"

"Yep!" You exclaim happily.

Did he say that aloud?

"You 'n me, together forever, Mister-man," you sigh dreamily at him.

It's not what you say, it's how you say it— like you really believe what you've just said. Like…it was something you had been thinking about, for a while.

"Huh?" Is all he can say, still slowly swaying and spinning. He has to turn his head almost completely around before he whips it to the other side, he wants to keep his eyes on you at all times. You seem un-fucking-predictable.

"Ain't'chya so excited!?" You squeal, and it makes Joel's head ache.

"Gon' fuckin' strangle you once I get down from here," Joel half grumbles, half chuckles under his breath. He crosses his arms over his chest, watching you rummage around for something in his bag.

"That's why I gotta do this," your muffled voice sounds sad as you pull something out and whip it behind your back, hiding it, and that makes Joel nervous.

"Do what?" Joel tries to see what you pulled out of his backpack.

"Gotta close your eyes," you shrug your shoulders, and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.

Joel blinks at you, just staring at him through the gas mask. He's not completely unsettled by the sight of you in a gas mask, he's seen women wearing them plenty— it's the fact that you have him completely at your mercy and he can barely see your fucking eyes.

He's so fucking stupid for coming out here alone all the time, Tommy and Ellie both warned him- both told him that something would happen to him out here. He'd hurt his back— or worse. And no one would know where to find him- because this was his secret hideaway. A place to escape the responsibilities of being a dad, a grandpa, and a big brother.

Joel loves Ellie, JJ and Tommy more than he ever thought possible— and loves that he got to be around them everyday— it was just starting to be a lot.

If Joel had the means to move that recliner into his house in Jackson, he would have— but it's too big, too heavy and way too fucking far.

Now look at him, upside down!

"Ya' ain't gunna wanna see it comin'." You give Joel a small warning. "Please just close them," you whine, starting to nervously dance on your tip toes.

"No." Joel growls, arms still crossed over his chest.

"'Kay!" You exclaim, running over to Joel. "Warned ya'!" You pull the brick Joel had put in his pack for emergencies.

"Wait! Wait—"

Cripes-all-mighty, Mister-Man is heavy as hell!

It takes everything you have inside of you to drag him to the mattress store. By the time you get there, your shirt is soaked through with sweat, your hair clings to your forehead and the side of your face. Every muscle aches and feels as if it's being torn from the bone it's clinging to.

Huffing and puffing, you drag him through the sea of mattresses until you get to the staircase that leads into the basement office.

"Sorry, Mister-Man," you grunt and push him down the stairs—

He's fine! You lined the stairs, and the bottom where he landed with mattresses a couple days ago-- after you brought his favorite recliner down here. All by yourself. Did it just for Mister-Man, because you want him to be comfortable! You want him to feel nice, and relaxed, and safe here with you.

Once you have him nice and secure to his chair— you wait.

He hit his head pretty hard when you snared him— you didn't think of that part. Then he had to go and wake up! Like a dumb idiot! He could have just stayed asleep, then you wouldn't have had to hit him again!

Thank goodness for that brick he keeps in his backpack, which, what the fuck is that about? It's a good weapon, but it's heavy, and made his backpack harder to carry than you would like to admit.

You were also lugging that giant of a man around, ya' did good, Sugar.

Yeah, ya' did good, kid.

You wrap your arms around yourself and sigh, "Thanks."

You wanna tell the voices in your head that you love them, but you don't really always love them. Sometimes you hate them, and wish they would shut up, and sometimes they don't talk when you need them to— finicky fuckers! And they almost never see eye to eye, and it's exhausting. So you just say thanks.

Mister-man is so pretty up close. Even more pretty than you could have ever thought or dreamed of. He doesn't look like he's shaved or cleaned up his beard in the last couple days, and his hair was combed back away from his face when he got here today— but now it's a mess, matted to his forehead in drying blood, falling into his eyes.

"Shit," you whisper, taking in the sight of him all beat up—

Sug, you gotta clean him up— make him pretty again.

The sweet voice is right!

Mister-man looks so sad all bloody and a mess.

"I'll be right back," you murmur and press a gentle kiss to his forehead through his blood stained hair, and then double check all of the ropes around his wrists and ankles.

He's secure, time to go get him lookin' nice again.

When you come back, your bag is filled to the brim with supplies from the the multiple stores that still have things inside them. You got him a comb, and a spray bottle that you already filled with clean water. You were able to find some clean clothes that look like they'll fit him.

He's also awake.

"Hi, Mist—"

"Let me go."

"—er-man!" You finish through the interruption. "I'm gunna clean you up now, and then we can have dinner. 'Kay?"

Mister-man stares at you.

"Oh!" You rip the gas mask off and place it on his lap. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to steal it. I promise." You cross your heart with one index finger.

"Let. Me. Go."

You wince with each barked word. "I. Don't. Wanna."

"If I ever get outta here, m'gon' fuckin' kill ya'," he growls.

You frown, pinch your eyebrows together and mock his thick, country twang. "M'gon' fuckin' clean ya' up real good, 'n then me 'n ya' can have fuckin' dinner." You growl back at him.

"Shut th'fuck up, untie me—"

"Why!? So you can kill me?" You shake your head at him, giving him a small smirk. "Not gunna happen, Mister."

His eyes go wider than you've ever seen them, as if he might be nervous. "What th'fuck you gon' do to me then, huh?"

"Clean. You. Up. Then. Have. Dinner. Did I say it too fast the first time, or can you really not hear too good?" You cock your head to one side, and look at him quizzically.

"Th'fuck did ya' just ask me?" Joel feels his chest going tight-- this hasn't happened in fucking years. It can't be happening right now.

"I talk real fast sometimes, and I don't realize it, and so sometimes all my words come out real jumbled to--"

"'Bout my hearin'?" Joel's working overtime to suck the air in, to bring precious oxygen to his brain. His head is still pounding, and now he can't fucking breathe, and he can't even imagine what kind of sick, twisted shit you're going to do to him.

Joel watches your eyes drop to the ground by his feet, and it's almost like you pull your body in on itself somehow, retreating into a place where you're trying to hide from him in plain sight. "I been watchin' you when you come in here... just act like you can't hear all that good outta your right ear," you say in a voice so small Joel can barely hear it.

"Watchin' me?" Joel scoffs.

Who the fuck are you? How long have you been watching him? How come he's never seen you before? Never even seen a trace of another person around here, just the stray raccoon or possum.

Joel's blood boils when you nod your head at him, still unable to look him in the eye. "Ya' should be ashamed. Whatever it is ya' wanna do to me is probably fucked--"

"I'm not ashamed," your voice snaps, and finally you lift your head to meet Joel's gaze. "Not even a little."

"Actin' like it," Joel's voice is snappier, and louder, and it makes you flinch.

"Maybe a little embarrassed--"

"Ashamed, fuckin' embarrassed, same fuckin' thing." Joel rolls his eyes at you.

"Not really," you shake your head from side to side and raise both of your eyebrows at him. "Not at all, actually."

"Would you shut th'fuck up?!"

"Would you shut th'fuck up..." You mock Joel. "I'm tryin' to do somethin' nice for you, and you keep telling me to shut the fuck up!"

"Do somethin' nice f'me?!" If this wasn't almost thirty years after the fucking apocalypse happened, Joel would think he was on some hidden camera show.

"Yeah!" You hold out the supplies you had brought back from wherever the fuck you had run off too while Joel was unconscious.

"Doin' somethin' nice would be lettin' me go, sweetheart." Joel switches his tone- does something he wouldn't normally do in a situation like this.

Your eyes light up. They crinkle in the corners a little, like they did the first time he saw you, but you're not upside down this time. The corners of your lips are trying to curl up, but you're actively trying to stop them.

"Don't call me that, 'less you mean it."

With the comb, water bottle and first-aid kit in hand, you take your place behind him and inspect the wound.

It's a surface wound, but dirty from the brick and still very bloody.

It's a painstaking process, because you don't want to be the cause of his pain anymore. Not ever again if you can help it.

Really, that's up to Mister, but he'll find out on his own soon enough! He just has to play nice, be sweet and kind— be the Mister you want him to be, and he'll be perfectly happy here with you. Life here with you in the mall could be perfect! He just needs to be perfect. He's almost there, he just has to keep his mouth shut.

He's not quiet, not at all. He hoots and hollers at you to stop, to let him go, that he's gonna gut you like a fish if he ever gets free from here.

The way he talks, his voice feels like the deepest note on a piano, or the thickest string being plucked on a guitar. It vibrates in the spaces between your ribs, and forces all the air out of your lungs when he talks.

He's taking your breath away... how romantic.

The sweet and airy voice in your head is right, he is taking your breath away. You wish he would stop saying those mean and terrible things to you-- they're making you hurt inside, where your stomach is.

Guilt. You should just kill him right now--

"Hurt him?"

Mister stops shouting, and raises one eyebrow at you.

Look'it those big brown eyes. Like a baby cow. All wet 'n big, kinda scared lookin'.

Ugh, shoot him right between those beautiful brown eyes, kid. You can do it.

He ain't hurt you yet, Sug...

Because she tied him up--

As she should, she's gotta feel him out a little, make sure he's really not gonna hurt her.

How is he ever going to hurt her if he's tied up?

"Okay, enough!" You almost shout-- there they go! Never seeing eye to eye, making things harder than they needed to be!

"I'll yell all I fuckin' want," Joel does holler, loudly. So loud. He's going to draw attention.

"Do I need to get the brick again?"

Joel stops shouting.

He really can't hold back the pained sounds coming from his throat as you attend to his wound.

You're being so, so gentle!

He's acting like a giant baby.

"M'hurtin' you?" You mumble as you drag the damp cloth along his forehead carefully, cleaning the moderately large gash you left there with the brick. It's swollen, and bruised now... you feel so terrible.

He'll forgive you, Sugar.

Mister-man doesn't say anything, he just flinches away from your touch for the millionth time.

"M'sorry, didn't mean t'hurt you this bad." You slowly start to work the comb through his hair, spraying it down with water when you needed to. You're careful to never pull on his hair too hard, and work the tangles out meticulously so you don't bring him any more discomfort.

"Got'chu some medicine." You reach into your pocket and pull out two white pills.

"I ain't takin' nothin' y'give me, fuckin' crazy bitch." He grumbles.

Mister watches you walk around to the front of him, and kneel between his legs.

"S'just regular," you hold your hand up to his face so he can inspect the pill on his own. "Nothin' strong like they had in the QZ's," it's a gentle explanation as he studies the medicine in your palm. "Can find some for ya' if you wanted me to, m'real good at findin' stuff."

"Find it in your heart t'let me outta here," Joel gives you the sweetest, crookedest smile that makes you stomach feel like it grows ten sizes, and your heart feels like it's racing something else inside of you.

There are sweet wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, and the lines on his forehead deepen, and he has the softest dimple on his left cheek.

Sug, he's so pretty.

Kill. Him. Before. He. Kills. You.

"So pretty," you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, and rest one of your elbows on his knee, propping your head up on the heel of your hand. The pills are still right in front of Joel's face, and his eyes flash between them, and your face.

"Not takin' them" he grumbles, twisting his head away from your hand.

"Suit yourself," you put the pills back into your pocket, dipping your head down to press a soft kiss to his knee. "M'gunna go get us dinner, I'll be back."

Joel stares at the tray of food you set down on the table you dragged over to be directly in front of him.

"Where's the protein?" Joel looks up at you from the plate of crackers with peanut butter, a small bowl of raspberries, two packets of expired pretzels you would get on an airplane, and a full bottle of labelless whiskey.

"S'in the peanut butter," you say through a mouthful of your own cracker.

Begrudgingly, Joel opens his mouth when you hold a cracker up to his lips. "Where's the meat?"

The crackers are dry, and kind of stale somehow? The peanut butter is still nice and creamy, just the way Joel remembered it before the outbreak.

"Where would I find meat?"

Joel pinches his brows together and blinks at you. "Ya' live in the woods, got a gun or two-- fuckin' know how to set a snare--"

You gasp softly, and rest one elbow on the table and point at him with a lazy index finger, "You 'spect me to go out there and kill an innocent lil friend? They ain't ever done nothin' t'me. Why would I go out 'n hurt 'em when I ain't got no reason to?"

Joel continues to blink, trying so hard to keep his eyes on you and not the ropes you have him tied down with so tightly they're starting to dig into the skin on his forearms-- painfully.

"Ya' kiddin', right?" He watches as you place a raspberry directly into the peanut butter on the cracker and hold it out for him.

"Issa good combo, try it." You nod your head at him, urging him to open his mouth.

Joel doesn't want to, doesn't want to give you the satisfaction of knowing he needs you, and is going to keep needing you until you decide to kill him, or set him free.

He opens his mouth though, because Joel hasn't had a raspberry in years and he loves them, and the sight of that plump, juicy berry sitting so comfortably in that pillow of delicious, creamy peanut butter is making his stomach rumble. Loudly.

"Want some?" You hold up the bottle of whiskey, screw off the cap and take a swig. "See, it's safe," you look at him through your lashes, and give him a one-corner-of-your-mouth-smile.

Joel nods his head, because what else was there to do if he was going to be a prisoner here? He tried so hard to free himself of the restraints while you were gone, but you know how to tie a knot, and Joel just ended up giving himself rope burn.

An hour later, Joel feels pretty good, but not good enough to forget the situation he's in, but the booze is making you very chatty, and he might actually be enjoying the conversation.

"'N I get power from the solar things up on the roof, I think."

"Ya' think?" Joel smirks at you, he can't help it.

"I dunno how the solar works," you exclaim, holding one hand towards the ceiling. "It's the sun and black screens," you give the ceiling the middle finger and groan. "Barely works when the sun is out-- I just wanna watch my movies--"

"What kinda movies ya' got?"

He wishes he never asked.

You're sitting between his legs on the floor-- reaching behind you to feed him raspberries, never taking your eyes off the screen.

Joel thing's about biting your fingers off, thinks about taking the tips right off with his front teeth.

What would you do if he did that? Joel is still tied up, and he would just have raspberries and bloodied fingertips in his mouth, and then possibly a crazy, unpredictable, angry woman who would try and kill him.

Joel has seen angry people every day for close to thirty years... he knows what they look like, what they sound and act like--- you don't sound or act angry.

"Love this part," you sigh, leaning back into him, and resting your head on his knee.

Joel looks up to the screen, watching Cinderella transform into her beautiful ball gown.

Joel wishes he could reach out and run his fingers through your hair.

No he fucking doesn't? What the actual fuck? What did you put in the food, or the whiskey to make him feel this way?

Joel clenches his hands to fists on the arms of the recliner, and tenses his jaw-- grinding his teeth in the process.

You continue to drink throughout the movie, and when the credits are rolling-- you stumble to your feet, and then into his lap.

"Get off'a me," Joel gripes as you nuzzle your nose against the side of his face.

"Just wanna cuddle," you murmur, curling yourself up into his chest, yawning sleepily. "F'just a lil bit."

"Get off'a me, ya' fuckin' nut!" Joel shouts, and regretfully, tries to headbutt you.

His cheekbone, the side of his nose and part of his forehead connect with the top of your skull in a dull, aching thud.

You scramble off his lap, and fall to the floor, one hand holding the top of your head where Joel had just whacked you. The right side of his face is throbbing, and he thinks his nose might be bleeding, or he's crying- he doesn't know- he doesn't care. He just wants to go home.

"What the fuck!?" You shout back at him. "Mister, I ain't been mean to you at all, minus the brick- okay? What the hell is your problem!?"

Joel can't help but laugh, it starts off as a chuckle, but quickly matures into full on guffawing. "Y'fuckin' insane, ya' know that?" Joel rumbles through his fit.

Through the tears in his eyes, Joel can see you glaring at him.

Okay, he hurt her, can she kill him now?

Sugar, he ain't mean it... not really... he just needs some time to adjust.

He could have really hurt her, are you serious?

He's just nervous! Give the man a break--

Tired of giving men breaks- tired of letting them get away-

"Both of you, knock it off." It's a stern warning to the voice as you glare at Mister.

He stops laughing and blinks at you. "Huh?" He cocks one eyebrow up high, "Both o' ya?"

His question doesn't register, all you can think about is how disappointed you are in him.

"I was gunna let'chya sleep in the big bed with me," you huff, climbing to your feet. "Ain't gonna do that no more."

"I ain't wanna sleep in the big bed with y'crazy fuckin' ass, anyway!" He screams at you.

"What're ya' bein' so fuckin' mean for? I cleaned ya' up, made ya' pretty again-- fed you dinner 'n shared my drink with you!"

Do not cry! What're you doing!? Don't let him see you cry! Get out of here, right now!

The dark voice is right, the burn in your nose and the sting in your eyes are tell tale signs of tears- and you hate them. Hate the way they make your face wet and sticky, hate how they make your heart hurt, hate how your head feels like it's ten pounds heavier when you get done crying.

He'll come around, Sug. Gotta give him some time. If ya' stay nice-- it'll happen sooner than you think.

"I like bein' nice," you murmur, not taking your eyes off Mister.

"Th'fuck are you talkin' about!?" He exclaims, eyes wide, almost obsidian with rage and confusion.

"G'night, Mister. We'll try again t'morow."

Mister doesn't rest, doesn't relax, doesn't settle down at all.

When you open the door to his room, he's still screaming his head off.

"Hey!" You shout back at him, grabbing his attention. "We got raiders 'round here. We got infected movin' in and outta here all the time-- you know how fuckin' loud you are?"

"Hopefully they all hear 'n come runnin'. I'd love to see you get torn to shred-"

"'Kay, m'real sorry ya' feel that way. Even sorrier that I gotta do this."

Mister doesn't stop fighting you the entire time you shove the bandanna into his mouth. He even bites down on your index and middle finger as you stuff the last corner of fabric between his teeth.

Hit him.

It happens so fast, you don't have time to stop yourself from the back of your hand connecting with his cheek.

"Now, you gunna play that game? I can play, too," you inspect your finger and the deep indentation he left that's already starting to bruise.

The duct tape is hard to rip, and you need to use your teeth to cut a strip to go over his mouth.

Mister is mumbling something around the bandanna, but you can't understand him, and honestly are still mad about your fingers-- they hurt! Really bad!

"Glad I still got that medicine... I'm gunna fuckin' need it!" You dig around in your pockets and look for the two white pills. Your fingers throb while you look, the sensitive skin; tender to the touch as it brushes against the fabric inside your pockets.

Mister glares at you with his almost black eyes.

"I'm sorry!" You find the pills, throw them into your mouth and swallow dry. "I'm sorry for hurtin' you. I do not like doin' it, I mean it." You take a couple steps towards him, and drop to your knees between his legs again.

Mister watches, his whole body still as you rest your head on his knee again.

"Just want ya' 'round. M'sorry," you close your eyes, not wanting him to see them fill with those traitorous tears. "Jus' real lonely out here. Miss havin' someone t'talk with...'n snuggle up to at night."

The fuckin' duct tape makes it impossible for Mister to say anything--which is the worst. You wanted someone to talk with, not at.

"I'll take the tape off in the mornin', and we can try again over breakfast, 'kay?"

Mister doesn't make a single sound for the rest of the night.

Joel is drunk again. Fuck, this is never good.

You're in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs with one arm around his neck, your head resting on his shoulder. There is something about the way your fingers twirl around in his hair at the nape of his neck that feels good. Too good.

"C'mon, get off'a me," Joel groans, but there's no passion in his voice. It's been almost three weeks of just this, and he doesn't hate it. Not when he's drunk.

Honestly, he barely dislikes it when he's sober, but he's better at acting like he doesn't want you on his lap when he hasn't had a drink that night.

How can he not like it just a little bit? You're soft, and warm, and fit so perfectly on his lap it's like you were made to be there.

"Couple more minutes, Mister. Please?" You fucking whimper,

The sound floating through Joel's ear canal sends a shiver down his spine, and directly into his cock. It twitches in his jeans. He's got to start thinking about baseball, and carpentry work, and how he's probably going to die soon.

Nothing works. Joel can feel the heat from your cunt through the thin fabric of your shorts, and his hands have been tied down to this chair every time you're not around. The only time you let him up is to use the bathroom-- and you have a gun while you wait for him the entire time, so he's never horny then!

And, as thankful as Joel is for this- you've never even looked at him like that. You look at him like you're in love with him all the time, but you've never once looked at him like you wanna touch him.

Joel tries to push his hips further into the chair, away from the perfect, searing heat of your middle.

"Where'ya goin?" Your voice purrs in his ear, your fingernails ghost across the skin on his neck and he shivers again, his cock feels it tenfold.

You feel it now, too.

"What're ya'--" you pause to look between your bodies, and then your eyes flash up to his. "That f'me?" You're whispering, and your glassy eyes are wide, and look so flattered.

"Ain't for nobody, stop lookin' at 'em," Joel grumbles, again, not really meaning any of it even though he should mean every single word.

"'Em?" you question him with your big, wet eyes and his cock twitches again.

Joel swallows hard, his eyes falling to your bottom lip clutched between your teeth, and nods. "Him, yeah, whatever you wanna call it-- ain't for you." He sighs softly.

"Why not?" you sink down further into his lap. The thin shorts you have on to wear to bed do nothing to keep your warmth contained. It's almost like Joel can feel what it would be like if you just whipped him out and sat-

He's never drinking with you again. Never again.

"Get off'a me," Joel leans forward gently as you lean into him, the tips of your noses touch softly.

"Gunna bite me if I kiss ya'?"

Joel is a goner, your breath smells sweet like raspberries and whiskey and every single thing about you is warm and soft-- Joel knows that if he wasn't fucking drunk he'd be fighting you tooth and nail, but he cannot right now.

He can't think about anything but what you'd feel like wrapped around him, milking him.

"Take'em out," Joel is the one to lean into the kiss, his lips aren't hesitant, or tentative at all when they meet yours. He is going to try and bite you- and he does, he nips at your bottom lip, but gently. He pulls back with it still bitten, and listens to you moan softly.

The quickness of your fingers isn't your friend, you struggle with his belt for what feels like an eternity as you push back against his kiss, eagerly slipping your tongue into Joel's waiting mouth.

Joel groans low in his throat when you wrap your hands around his girth, and then chuckles at your shocked gasp when you pull away to get a good look at him.

"He ain't gon' bite'chya," Joel teases, leaning forward, searching for your lips again.

"Might split me in half," you moan, presumably at the thought of Joel stretching you open.

Joel can't contain his own moan as you put the image in his head. "Fuuck, sit on him-- lemme feel ya'."

The sound that leaves you makes Joel throb in your hand, "Ya' want me t'put 'em inside?" You whisper, the silky smoothness of your hands on him, stroking him so slowly is making his head spin.

"Jeeesus, yes-- fuckin' c'mon- do it," Joel lets his head fall back against the recliner, and watches as you pull your shorts to the side, and lift yourself to hover over him. "C'mon..." Joel eggs you on in a whisper. "Y'can do it, crazy girl."

"Don't call--" you pause when you notch the head of him at your entrance. "--me crazy."

Joel groans loudly as you sink down and let every wet, soft part of you engulf him. He throbs again when you whimper and whine, eyes clenched shut, your hands grasping at his shoulders as you inch your way down his length.

"Ow, ow, ow," you whine, leaning forward to rest your head on Joel's.

He could headbutt the shit out of you right now, but fuck, the way you're looking at him, with real tears in your eyes, not just from drinking.

"Hey, ya' doin' real good, sweetheart, keep goin'-- nice 'n slow," Joel encourages you, because he doesn't want it to stop either. "Jus' like that, crazy girl."

God damn, is crazy pussy always this good? He wouldn't fucking know, he wouldn't ever get involved with you if he knew you back in Jackson- but out here, after almost three weeks with you... it's hard to deny the physical needs of a man. And you're so fucking soft and wet.

The two of you groan in unison when you fully seated. The velvet walls of your pussy are fluttering, and clenching around him as you adjust to his length.

"You're so big," you hum, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "Didn't think ya'd wanna do this," you whisper into his mouth. "Wasn't gon' take it from ya-- don't like that."

"Take what'chya need from me, whenever ya want it, shit," Joel tries to buck his hips up into yours to give you what you want but you whine in protest.

"Still hurts."

Joel settles his hips and leans into the best he can being tied down, his fingers grip the armrests of the chair tightly, groping it like he would be groping you if he could.

"Untie me," he murmurs while grinding up against you, not pulling out of you at all, just letting you feel him, letting you open up around him so it'll start to feel good.

"No," you nip at his bottom lip now, but you suck it into your mouth and tease him with your tongue as your walls start to rhythmically clench around him.

"Fuck, ya' doin' that on -ur-ose?" Joel groans with his bottom lip still being lapped at, The feeling of your tight, wet sucking him in deeper somehow- like it's fucking bottomless almost makes him come right then.

You pull back, his lip slips from between your with a wet pop "Mhm, ya' like it?" You clench harder around him and then release, and then do that over, and over again.

"Fuckin' untie me, wanna touch you- gotta feel how soft ya' are all over, c'mon," he's begging, he needs to feel the swell of your ass in his palm, or one of your tits spilling between his fingers as he grips you.

"No, you'll just try 'n leave me-"

"No, no, no-- I'll stay 'n... uh.. I'll... um- uh--oh, I'll play nice wit'chya" Joel racks his brain with anything that he could say that would possibly give him a chance at being able to really touch you.

"Lyin' t'me," you moan, and Joel throbs inside of you.

"Not lyin'-"

You pull back from his face at an alarming rate, and you scan his face slowly, as if you were drinking in every feature, savoring the flavor-- Joel watches you swallow hard and imagines that it's his load you just took down--

"Untie me, let me touch ya' a lil bit," Joel whispers, keeping his eyes locked on to yours. "Make ya' feel real good, promise." Joel licks his lips as he watches you struggle internally with the decision. "C'mon... gotta feel how soft ya' are, crazy girl. Just one hand."

"Fine."

You stay seated in his lap, his cock still throbbing inside of you as you work on the knot that will free his right hand. He's trembling in the anticipation of it all.

As soon as the pressure is gone off his wrist, Joel reels his arm back as far as he can, and sends it flying forward with as much force as he can muster after not eating meat for almost an entire month.

You scream as his fist connects with your right eye, and go flying to the floor.

Joel might be completely sober right now, and he knows he needs to move fast before you get up and probably shoot him for lying to you, and then punching you.

Yep. Shoot him. Shoot him right between his perfect, brow, baby-cow eyes. End it.

The dark voice in your head is right, but it's almost impossible to think about anything else but the pain shooting into your brain from your right eye socket.

"You motherfucker," you sob. The pain is electrifying- and you can't even see out of your right eye anymore!

That was your least favorite eye!

Kill. Him.

When you sit up, Joel is working on the knot around his left wrist.

You stumble to your feet, holding your hand over your eye trying to keep the actual ball in, in case it falls out, and walk over to the table with his book bag on it. You rummage around until your fingers wrap around the item you're looking for.

When Joel sees what you're carrying, not even attempting to hide it behind your back, he quickens his efforts on the knot.

Your left hand isn't your dominant one, but your right is busy keeping your eyeball in your head because it most surely got knocked loose or something.

You have to whack Joel twice before he goes unconcious.

"S'what ya' get for almost takin' my eye out!"

While he's still asleep, you take this opportunity to cut the jeans he's wearing off of him. You carefully unbutton the green and red flannel he was wearing and slip that off of him fully intact.

Once he's fully secure, with a new restraint around his chest to keep him fully pinned down to the chair, and the bandanna and tape back around his mouth-- you shut all the lights off, every single one, and leave him down there to think about what he did.

He's gonna learn to play nice, and if he wants to play rough first... so can you.

The air is thick with tension and stench of his sweat and fear.

The big-guy should be kind of scared- you didn't want it to come to this, but he just cannot participate nicely!

You circle your Mister-man slowly, drinking in every detail of him. His broad chest heaves with ragged breaths, muscles taut and straining as he fights against the restraints for the thousandth time.

No matter how hard he struggles, he cannot break free. Oh boy. Mister-man has some big feelings about it, and he's trying to let you know.

He is struggling— like, so fucking hard, against his bonds that tether him to the chair, that are cutting deep into the skin on his wrists. It's unfortunate, but he keeps wriggling around! If he just stopped, it'd all be fine!

You lean in close, pointing to your right eye, which is still black and blue, but thankfully not as swollen anymore, and frown at him. "This hurt!" You exclaim. "It hurt so bad, and you said you were gunna play nice. Why'd ya' lie t'me?"

His eyes are blown wide with fury and desperation. But he cannot respond, not really, his voice is saying things, but it's muffled by the duct tape stretched tight across his mouth.

He's still clad in only boxer shorts, a thin gray t-shirt, and socks, he looks vulnerable and exposed.

It really shouldn't be so hot-- but it is. You can't stop thinking about what he said the other night.

"Take what'cya want from me, sweetheart. Whenever you want it."

You wonder if he really meant that, because he punched you in the face right after.

But... he got excited! He wanted it, Mister-man kissed you first.

Oh Sug, he's down bad.

Please kill him. Shoot him right now, then you can just move to a different part of the mall. It's very simple.

He's really mad; which makes no sense! He punched you right in the eye! What is he mad for!?

"I thought after three weeks you'd be begging me to take you upstairs, Mister," you purr seductively, taking a step behind him, out of his line of sight. "Instead you hit me!?" You give Joel a good thwack against the side of his head with your open hand.

Not enough to really hurt him— that's coming soon— but enough to let him know to cut the shit. It's getting old, and now you want a fun, willing participant to play with you… and not someone who is going to act like they don't like… all this.

The perfect basement office of an old mattress store in an abandoned mall about a two hour hike outside of what used to be Jackson, Wyoming?

There's no spores, there's no mildew or stink! It's clean, you make sure to keep everything so clean for him.

Despite his insessant pestering about meat for some reason, he's well fed! He gets to drink whenever he wants!

Why is he so upset!?

Joel grumbles something from behind the duct tape and it's honestly lost of deaf ears because you don't care for what he has to say right now, it's never nice or sweet. It's always mean— that's why he's got the duct tape on.

Soon.

Soon the big-dumb-idiot will be singing your name, happily, and without restraints.

He's just gotta wear something else first.

You slip the shock collar around his thick neck while you're still behind him.

He doesn't like it, at all. He thrashes and writhes, and makes a desperate, pleading groan from behind deep in his throat.

"Well, you wanna act like all them other dogs out there, you're gon' get treated like one," you press a kiss to the top of his skull, and pull back before he can rear his head forward and smash it against your nose.

He's going to try-- he always does.

Slowly, you wind your way around him, trailing a finger along his sweat-slick forehead and crawl into his lap. He struggles at first, until he sees the remote in your hand.

"Gonna zap all the bad outta you… make you perfect for me." You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Have an idea...for how you can hug me-- and not hit me."

Joel mumbles something else, muffled through the duct tape. It doesn't really matter what he's saying, all that matters is how warm he is. How he makes you feel so safe and comfortable.

It's easy now, with the threat of being zapped, to rest your forehead against his, and nuzzle the tips of your noses together.

"You gunna be good for me, Mister-man?" It's a purr as you press a kiss to the duct tape covering his mouth. "Or am I gunna have to train you how to be good?"

omg this might be the longest tag list i've ever done let me know if you want me to take you off, add you, if I forgot you-- I'm SORRY!!!

TAG LIST: @pedrospookie @gothcsz @joelmillerisapunk @sp00kymulderr @paleidiot @goodvampykitten @rosebuds-and-moonlight @diabaroxa @zhazy-blog2 @almostempty @xdaddysprincessxx @tobethlehem @lilac-boo @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @rav3n-pascal22

#kidnapped!joel miller #joel miller x reader #crazy!reader #dead dove fic #smut and violence #a little fluff #joel's dirty fucking mouth #joel miller tlou #Jackson!Joel #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #eventual smut #eventual angst

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thisapplepielife · 3 days ago

Text

Written for @steddiebingo.

Slip Slidin' Away

Eddie reaches for his phone. It's buzzing against his thigh again. He's getting annoyed. His doorbell camera has been going apeshit for the last ten minutes, but every time he checks, nobody's out there.

Another notification, another annoyance, and this time he actually pulls up the recorded clip instead of just the live feed to see what kind of insect has survived the freeze just to terrorize him.

It's not a bug, though.

It's worse. It's a man, on a pair of ice skates, gliding up and down their frozen street.

What in the actual fuck? Is he crazy? This guy isn't even wearing a coat, but he glides into, and then out of view, on honest to god skates. In the street. Who the fuck is this dude?

Eddie watches the rest of that clip, then a couple more, before he puts his phone out of his reach, not picking it up again until it actually rings.

"It's too cold for band practice," Gareth says by way of hello, and well, no shit. None of them should be out in this weather. Especially not Eddie, he's a terrible driver under regular circumstances. On ice? Recipe for disaster, for sure.

"What gave it away, the solid sheet of ice or the freezing temperatures?"

"Asshole," Gareth laughs. "I'm just saying. Don't come slip slidin' away over here. You'll die."

"Speaking of slip slidin', Simon, there's a dude skating in the street outside the house," Eddie tells him. "He keeps setting off my doorbell cam."

"Like, hockey skating or figure skating?" Gareth asks, and fuck if Eddie knows?

"I don't know. He's got blades strapped to his feet and a death wish."

"Sounds familiar," Gareth says.

Eddie ignores him. He's crazy and reckless, but he's not skate in the street crazy. There's a difference, surely.

"He's not even wearing a coat. I'd at least wear a coat to my death."

"Because you're a delicate flower with no circulation."

Eddie laughs. He's not delicate, but he is cold-blooded to his core.

"How long is this ice storm supposed to last?" Eddie asks. He hates this kind of bitter cold.

"Three days, give or take."

Three days. He can handle three days without interacting with another human being.

Later, when he's laying in bed doom scrolling, he gets a text from Gareth:

Eddie opens the link, and it's definitely his street, and is the video of the skating guy. The other POV? He thinks that's the right term, but he wouldn't bet the farm on it. Either way, the account's name is Robin, and with a quick glance through her profile, he suspects she's the wife of Mr. Skates.

These must be his neighbors. He's done a pretty damn good job at avoiding meeting anyone, but here they are, on his phone. Small world.

She's razzing the shit out of him in the clip, and Eddie thinks she's not wrong. Dude's lucky he didn't catch a rock taller than the sheet of ice with his skate and eat shit.

He's gorgeous. It loops again, and again.

Eddie watches him lace up his skates, over and over, and hit the icy street, laughing the whole time.

Why is this video an hour long?

He lets it cycle through one more time, gives it a like and a favorite, and Eddie's not much for social media, or playing nice with neighbors, but he leaves a comment before overthinking it.

It's not until the next night, back in bed, his phone in his hand that he realizes there's a metric shit-ton of notifications waiting for him. Mainly likes on his comment and then a couple responses. This video must have blown up today. Which makes sense, if it was pushed into Gareth's feed for him to even see to send to Eddie, lots of other people must have gotten it, too.

His neighbors have responded, but were mainly just bantering with each other:

Well, now Eddie's embarrassed. Nice moves? He didn't realize this was gonna go public. Especially since this guy is good looking. Way to make a fool of yourself in front of the hot, new neighbor. Jesus H. Christ.

He really needs to think things through before he says — or types — them.

Oh well. He'll avoid them. That hasn't been hard to do so far, last night's assault on his camera, notwithstanding.

The next morning, Eddie's carefully tiptoeing outside to retrieve his mail, trying not to bust his ass on the ice that just will not melt, three days his fucking ass, when a yellow blur is zooming towards him. It comes to an abrupt stop, ice dust flying, right on the iced over pavement right in front of Eddie's mailbox. It's kinda impressive.

"You're Ed, right?" he asks.

"Eddie, yeah. Steve?" Eddie questions, and so much for not interacting. But the guy nods, giving him a bright smile. They shake hands, and now Eddie's met his neighbors. Anti-social streak over.

"That's me, I can't believe you saw our video from next door!"

Eddie doesn't think he needs to go into a bunch of details on how it was really Gareth whose algorithm got fed it, so he just nods along, "Small world, indeed."

"Robin is dying that it went kinda viral."

"Your wife?" Eddie asks, and Steve nearly falls off his skates laughing.

"No. No way. Best friend. Platonic with a capital P. Hetero life mates, except for the hetero part."

Eddie's ears definitely perk up at that.

"Well, I feel lucky to be on the non-hetero side of the street, then."

Steve grins, "Oh, you definitely lucked out. Mr. Hollins across the street is straight enough for the whole neighborhood."

Eddie doesn't know who that is, but laughs anyway.

Then has an idea:

"So, I have an important question," Eddie says, and Steve just looks at him, curious and expectant.

"Are those hockey skates or figure skates?"

Steve holds onto Eddie's mailbox and laughs, head tossed back, hair flying. It's perfect. He's perfect.

"Hockey, but that doesn't mean I don't have moves. I have moves for days. Don't you worry."

"Moves, you say? Well, let's see 'em, big boy."

Steve smiles, and pushes off into the street. Eddie ribbed him for no coat last night, and now here Eddie is, outside, no coat, freezing his ass off as he's demanding his cute neighbor skate for him.

He takes out his phone, and starts recording. Even he knows this will be a popular update to their little moment.

Steve skates backwards, crossing his legs over each other.

"Can you jump?" Eddie yells.

"It's not advised!" Steve yells back, "But, since when do I ever listen to advise! Waltz!"

He does a little jump, and lands on one foot skating backwards. Eddie hoots and hollers, and Steve takes a bow.

And that's it. He skates over and Eddie can't stop staring at him.

"You want to come in for coffee? Warm up?" Eddie offers, unwilling to let him just leave.

"Hell yeah, sure," Steve agrees, and Eddie watches him skate up the driveway, and then stop on the porch to take off his skates. He holds onto Eddie's shoulder to balance himself, and Eddie can feel his warm hand, fingers gripping his skin, through his shirt.

He wants those hands in other places.

Oh, he's in trouble. Big, big trouble.

Steve has on big, thick socks and looks so cozy in his sweater as he follows Eddie in the house.

"It's nice to have a good neighbor again. The last lady," Steve says, then gives two big thumbs down, blowing a raspberry.

Eddie laughs. He's never been considered the good neighbor before. Not with his shitty van, long hair and too loud music.

He starts a pot of coffee, and looks in the fridge. He has a few things, and he wants Steve to stay as long as possible. Eddie has some wooing to do.

"You hungry?"

"I could eat," Steve admits. "I can always eat. Hollow leg, all the sports will do that to you."

And Eddie starts fixing this hot guy, who's certainly way out of his league, no matter which sport, breakfast.

If you want to sign up for a future bingo event or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiebingo and follow along with the fun! 🧥

Notes: I saw a video of someone ice skating on the street, and their neighbor saw it and commented like, "Hey! That's my car in the background!"

Slip Slidin' Away is a Paul Simon song.

Hetero life mates is a Jay & Silent Bob reference.

#steddiebingo2025 #steddiebingo #prompt: coat #bingo event: 12 days of christmas #steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fan fic #steddie fic #stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddiebingo #gareth stranger things

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thehelltingvilleclub · 3 days ago

Text

Jerry Stokes - Champion Card Player and Professional Goober

Jerome “Jerry” Titus Stokes Jr. [10/02/80] [6'0. Yes, Bill is mad about this.] Secretary of Fantasy and Role-Playing Games AOL / Online Users: [XxLordxXxAtrocityxX] Theme Songs: Chronically Cautious - Braden Bales | Undone - The Sweater Song - Weezer | Polygon Dust - Porter Robinson Favorite Shit: Middle-Earth, Magic Cards, Percentile Dice, He-Man, Final Fantasy, Dragons, Tabletop Gaming, Conan, Studio Ghibli, Discworld, LARPs, Legend of Zelda, Earthsea, Yawgmoth’s Will, Gen-con, Xena, Aerith Gainsborough, Elfquest, White Magic

Therapy, check. Meds, check. Keys, check. Godsend Card Wars deck, check. EXTRA Card Wars deck in case some fucker tries to one up him, check... shit what is he forgetting *now*? It took him growing a backbone and his parents to finally get his ass to the doctor, but hey, at least he's here now, right??? right????? He's still trying to get Bill to come with him to the office to deal with his anger issues but it's like trying to climb Mordor bro; not gonna happen any time soon.

He's managed to make some new friends in the process, who knew?! Actually going to tournaments is so much more fun than just following Bill around all day--

I have the Power!

Jerry used to take Piano, as his parents tried to get him into as many extra curriculars when he was in elementary as they could to get him out of their hair (And.. hey, at least he learned something..?)

Because of this, he occasionally plays by himself on the practice piano he got as a kid, though usually it's just him learning soundtracks or transcribing the entirety the Ocarina of Time by ear.

y'know. normal everyday shit.

He has a habit of forgetting to trim his nails, however he keeps them relatively neat-- filed down and this dude actually showers and washes his hands like a maniac if he gets dirty, so it's not that bad. Plus, he's convinced it helps him pick up cards better without folding them.

Let's be honest, Jerry forgets a lot of things sometimes in his anxious scramble to get places. Including meals on occasion, which usually results in Josh jumping him as an excuse to get another snack for them both.

Would be willing to have his nails painted, absolutely, but will probably pick it off within the day as a fidget. Sorry guys.

Jerry met Matt at a Card tournament and they became rather quick friends-- and Matt whooped his ass when they played so he had to give the guy some props.

This dude gets the WORST bedhead and he barely does anything about it, just don't make fun of him if his hair is flat in the back please please please--

Jerry. Likes. Stripes. I feel like his mom dressed him up as the Girl who got sick with the Stripes once when he was a toddler cause he got covered in paint and it just *stuck*.

Jerry has also worn the same style of shoe and brand for the past 15 years he's not gonna start changing it now, fuckers

Can you tell he has a separation issue? no? then open your EYES.

This man absolutely gets ass his phone and aol are blowing UP like ALL THE FUCKIN TIME and he's so overwhelmed that he just ignores them all most of the time. most.

He ends up mostly subsisting off of tournament winnings and doing random odd jobs around the neighborhood, but at least it's enough to get him more cards and a bus ticket into Manhattan when he needs it.

Jerry still goes Bee-dee Bee-dee, he doesn't drop it entirely until post 2005-ish, when he meets Mandi. He DOES however, still use Buck as a nickname, cope. it's my world now.

cough uh he hates the feeling of underwear. those are basketball shorts. OOPS

god I love Jerry he's such a little dork

OKAY JOSHYBEAR IS NEXT Im gonna sob I also still have to draw May and Matt's cards...

fyuck

#the eltingville club #the helltingville club #eltingville fanart #welcome to eltingville #eltingville jerry #jerry stokes #eltingville club #my art #digital art #my headcanons #im so tired #eltingville oc #ugghhhhhhhh #scrawny motherfucker #gangle boy

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crimsoncandy04 · 1 day ago

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Okay so little known fact about me, I'm a shifter and I frequently use both spiritual methods and substances to shift into other worlds, and like when I'm in the world of Genshin Impact I sometimes see the most messed up shit but I never tell anyone cause idk why, and today since my adventure was actually kinda sexy I feel like I should share some of the stuff I learned and experienced.

Especially because you know it involved my favorite man Scaramouche.

Okay so the tea was that basically contrary to popular belief in our world, Scaramouche is VERY much okay with being intimate with humans and it's actually hard to put into words why but it can basically be summed up as this, he secretly REALLY wants a family still. And in his mind, as long as he got someone pregnant (anyone it didn't matter who as long as he found them attractive enough), then he believed he could just make them immortal when he became a god and then have an undying partner and child (which he also never stated openly but it was obvious that he wanted this in particular because he was both curious as to what it would be like to be a husband and because he kinda felt like a woman would be easier to control and shut away from the world because she would have a kid to take care of anyway).

But there was one issue in this lesser known fixation of his, Scaramouche was actually frustrated because he believed he might actually be incapable of getting someone pregnant and was just shooting blanks basically.

My adventure kinda involved seeing what would happen if someone actually DID finally manage to be knocked up by him, and it basically went like this.

Scaramouche had a little bit of a reputation amongst the fatui maids to be someone known for having slept with and then thrown away a lot of different women over the years. And it was kind of an unspoken thing that if he suddenly started giving a girl a lot of things to do and kept trying to get her alone that he wanted to sleep with her.

No one among the staff would DARE say it out loud but it was kinda obvious that the harbinger wanted a baby out of someone because anyone who had been with him before always said that he'd do the same thing and would basically fuck a girl raw for hours almost every day and would also keep her close for about a month or two as he had doctors give her certain medicines and herbs and stuff to try and make her conceive.

If she was a failure after a few months then she was completely tossed out and sent back to the kitchens. And then within days Scaramouche would be stalking the staff again because it was easier to take a maid without anyone knowing than it was a soldier or nurse.

And if he likes someone he'd put on his superficial charm and start trying to lure them into his bed.

Also no one ever snitched because according to his past victims, Scaramouche was EXTREMELY generous in the sheets. However big into overstimulation and watching the faces of the girls he coupled with.

And a LOT of maids secretly tried to look more appealing with makeup and stuff when he was around because who wouldn't want to be spoiled by a hot rich guy who just wanted you to give him a kid in return for the best princess treatment in your life?

And oh my god did he almost seem to actually smile once as the story played out and I watched him get the news that one girl was finally a success.

And was there ever some hating ass bitches when the rumors of his successful impregnation started going around.

So basically this girl was treated like a freaking goddess.

Scaramouche literally paraded her around openly with the best clothes and jewelry and even her own damn mansion in some secret location. Literally she was his everything it seemed.

And it was crazy because he didn't love her as a person whatsoever. She could have been anyone because Scaramouche just wanted a family he could make permanent and didn't care what woman's coochie it came out of. Just so long as it was his and he could keep her controlled and hidden away safely with mora and nice things.

I saw more stuff but my mind is going blank as I recenter my spirit and sober up. I'm sure I could remember it later if I tried but basically yeah.

Scaramouche is very self serving and doesn't care about who he has to use to get what he wants or how. And he secretly still longed for someone to spend forever with him, so unbeknownst to most people, he was trying to get someone pregnant and then immortalize them and his offspring once he achieved divinity and became a god.

I just remembered part two of my shifting journey so let me update.

The story went on to what would happen to the girl after irminsul occurred and it goes as this.

Now feeling immense regret for how disrespectful and borderline cruel he was to some of his past partners, Wanderer actively tries in secret to seek out the mother of his child and learning where she was and what her perception of history had been altered to was heartbreaking.

According to her she was sold to the fatui by her family to work as a cook and pay off some debt, her life wasn't too bad until she was taken advantage of by what she remembered as just one of her male coworkers, after she was proven to be with child she ran away from the fatui and eventually just found herself in Fontaine. Then soon after that, Sumeru.

And that's where Wanderer finds her again. He knows the actual truth and eventually decides to come clean to this girl about what actually happened. She doesn't believe him but Wanderer is adamant about being the real father and vows to the girl to try and do the right thing by helping her with the kid.

At least.

She agrees but only because she needs the assistance and Wanderer knew how to be charming enough to earn her forgiveness.

After that he would finally get the family he envisioned but because he failed to achieve godhood, he knew he would lose them someday. And he personally believed he deserved to feel that loss so he would stay with the girl and actually try to get to know her as a person as a means of atonement and also to punish himself for treating this girl like an incubator at first.

#genshin impact #smut #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin wanderer #wanderer #wanderer x female reader #wanderer smut #wanderer x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche #genshin scara #scara #genshin kabukimono

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snugglyporos · 3 days ago

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// Christ I wish I could go back in time and erase concepts like 'unconscious bias' from the world of popular lingo because people apply it to things that they don't apply to. No, most people do not possess an unconscious bias that working class people are worth less than rich people, that's your classist ideology being applied to things that you shouldn't apply it to. We might call that a conscious bias.

What is actually happening is a mix of tropes being blended together and not changing over time. Namely, the idea that the more individuals there are, the weaker they are. We see this everywhere; fifty ninjas? Weak. Not a problem. One ninja? Super powerful. Legend. This exists in everything from James Bond movies to comics to Power Rangers.

The reality is that, narratively speaking, the random cannon fodder between the protagonist and the final boss do not matter. They don't! In real life they would, but if you tried to give ever goon a backstory and explain it you would have a shit story because the audience does not care about the backstory of unnamed good #23. After they take the punch from the protagonist, the audience has entirely forgotten they existed.

Which means that, narratively speaking, the killing of the main villain is more important and more impactful than the killing of some random goon. Now, if you're a good writer this shouldn't be the case. But this too, comes from the blending of genres and tropes.

In the late 1980s, fiction became more violent and more visceral. This means that a lot more violence was happening! And yet, writers still wanted to have their protagonist show that they were the protagonist, because people were all in on moral relativism. People would be like 'well, there's no difference between the hero and the villain if the hero kills the villain.'

The response was a lot of heroes started adopting a weird kind of no killing rule; Batman will break your fucking spine but kill the guy who just blew up a building? That's too far! 'I'm not like you, a guy who kills people, I just cripple them for life!'

And again, this is what happens when genre conventions (the hero should be morally superior than the villain, or at least attempt to be) mixing with trope developments (everything now needs to be brutal and violent to reflect real life).

Now, the circle has completed itself, where we're once again back to 1985, where people are like 'actually no, the hero should fucking kill that guy.' You'll probably be a big fan of the Death Wish movies and The Dark Knight Strikes Back; you know, things that lots of proto-fascists really love because they reinforce the notion that actually, heroes should wield violence against their enemies and impose their will through abject terror.

The reality is, people aren't sitting around going 'my work should reflect the idea that workers are less important than the boss' it's that narratively, the random goons exist to be smacked down to prepare the audience for the big bad, because rising action requires that there be rising challenges. This is mixing along with personal tastes in media.

Now, you could, for example, turn this new trope on its head and ask whether the Punisher murdering every jaywalker and low level drug dealer with extreme violence makes him a villain, because his ideal is that any lawbreaker should be murdered instantly no matter how low the crime. You might also argue that the trope should actually be that the grunts shouldn't be killed by the hero, but the guy who organized them should, because he's much worse than they are.

You could also argue that, the reason why the hero doesn't just kill the villain is that murder is wrong? Even if you think it's morally justified? I think people forget, when they fantasize about an ideal French Revolution, that the most common crime people were executed for was pickpocketing, and every day they would execute the guys who got caught working the crowds at the executions the day before. More poor people got killed in the French Revolution than rich people; you should probably keep that in mind!

Because the core reason you probably want your hero to not kill people in general is that you then have to ask who deserves it and your answer will inevitably include a lot of people you might actually like! You probably don't want heroes taking vague concepts like justice into their own hands because inevitably that makes them into the Death Wish protagonist, deciding that what really needs to happen is for a white guy with a gun to just start shooting up inner cities.

You don't want your hero to start killing people because this is corrosive and it will inevitably result in comparisons between people who got killed.

So no, it's not some kind of unconscious bias, it's because we've melted a worldwide demand for bloodshed and violence with established genre tropes and if you removed one or the other people would complain and be very unhappy.

Or, I guess you could go on and say that Freddy Kruger is anti-marxist because he only targets teenagers instead of people who really deserve it.

#poro mun speaks #ooc

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keeryhours · 1 day ago

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real love, baby - chapter one

Billy Hargrove x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Billy Hargrove Masterlist

Summary:

You get some life changing news, and telling Billy doesn’t go as planned.

Warnings:

Pregnancy, angst

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N:

Yay a new series! I’ve been dying to write for Billy again. I hope you guys like this, your comments and support mean the world to me.

When Billy had arrived at Hawkins High for the first time, roaring into the parking lot in his blue Camaro and wearing the tightest jeans known to man, he had caught the attention of every girl in school.

Including you.

You weren’t exactly…popular. Actually, you were considered a freak. Best friends with Eddie Munson and proud member of the Hellfire club, you caught a lot of shit from your classmates. You knew from the second you saw Billy Hargrove that you never had a chance.

You had never been more surprised to be wrong.

You knew Billy had a reputation for going through girls like crazy, sleeping with them and leaving them high and dry. Yet you still found yourself falling for him. And when he approached you and asked you out, you said yes embarrassingly fast.

“Asking you out” ended up being a late night trip to Lover’s Lake, making out before moving into the backseat and letting him fuck you. That might sound crude, but there was no better way to describe it. It certainly wasn’t making love.

Your late night visits with Billy became a regular thing. It was kept quiet - Billy didn’t tell anyone, and he acted like he didn’t know you at school. The only person who knew was Eddie, because he was your best friend in the world and you told him everything. He did not approve, but he wasn’t about to tell you how to live your life. He was just scared you’d get hurt.

Which, of course, you inevitably did. But we’ll get to that.

You held out hope that one day Billy might see you as more than a secret hookup, that he might take you out on an actual date and show you off at school, but you knew those were just dreams. Deep down, you knew Billy was embarrassed to be seen with you. He showed up at Hawkins High and became the most popular guy in school - he wasn’t about to let anyone know he was secretly sleeping with The Freak.

This routine worked out for a while. That is, until you had the realization you had skipped your period while you were throwing your guts up before school one morning. Ice cold fear struck into your heart, and you realized you had really fucked up.

That day you went to school looking nearly as bad as you felt. Carol Perkins giggled as you passed her in the hallway, whispering something to Heather Holloway. You had too much on your mind to care. Billy gave you a strange look when he saw you, but didn’t say anything.

You found Eddie, Gareth, Jeff and Grant at your usual spot in the cafeteria. You walked over and took a seat, not even bothering to get anything to eat because it would just come back up anyway.

Eddie did a double take when he saw you. “Jesus,” he said, taking in your messy hair, bloodshot eyes and melancholy expression. “What happened to you?”

The other guys were deep in conversation about the latest campaign. You leaned closer to Eddie. “I skipped my period. And now I’m getting sick.”

Eddie just blinked at you. He looked like he didnt understand - you saw the moment the realization dawned on him. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, looking down at the table. “Oh, shit.”

“Did you…take a test?” Eddie whispered, leaning in closer to you.

“No.” You picked at a loose string on the sleeve of your hoodie. “I figured I would go to the doctor so I don’t fuck it up.”

Eddie looked around the cafeteria before his eyes landed on you again. “Do you want me to take you?”

Your head snapped up to meet his gaze. “You would do that?”

Eddie smiled. “Well, yeah, of course. You’re my best friend. I’m not gonna make you go alone.”

You felt relieved to hear that. This was scary enough without having to go through it all alone. “I don’t know how I would have even made it there by myself without alerting my parents anyway.”

“Eddie Munson chauffeur, at your service,” he said with a bow. You snorted.

“Thanks, Eds.”

That evening after school you rushed home before your parents could get there and picked up the phone. You dialed the number for your primary care doctor’s office with shaking hands and made the appointment, not telling the receptionist over the phone what it was for. You figured you’d deal with that when you got there.

The next day passed in a blur. You looked presentable at least, but you had to leave class twice to go throw up in the bathroom. Billy gave you a concerned look when he saw you in the hallway again, but you ignored him.

After school you met Eddie at his van. He opened the passenger side door for you - “My lady,” he said with a dramatic bow - before jumping in the driver’s seat and starting up the old vehicle. You noticed Billy watching you from his Camaro where he waited for his younger sister.

Eddie blasted music over the radio while you drove. It made you feel better because you weren’t in the mood for conversation. The butterflies in your stomach made you feel like you could throw up again. You took deep breaths as he drove to keep the nausea under control. Eddie always drove like a maniac.

He pulled into the parking lot of the doctor’s office, some older ladies standing by their cars giving you a dirty look as the van tore into the parking lot blasting Metallica. Eddie didn’t notice.

He walked with you into the office, taking a seat in the waiting room while you went to reception to check in. You gave the receptionist your name, and she handed you a clipboard and pen and told you to take a seat.

The questions on the forms were standard. Your personal information, health history, medications, etc. By the time you finished with it, a nurse was opening the door and calling your name. Eddie squeezed your knee before you stood, letting you know he was here for support and would be right where you left him.

The nurse had you do the usual tasks - your weight and height, pee in a cup, and they took some blood samples. You waited in the exam room for the doctor, kicking your feet as you sat on the tall table. You felt more like a child than you had in the past few years.

When the doctor walked in carrying a clipboard and saying your name, you felt like you could throw up for the millionth time. He looked at you solemnly, and you knew it wasn’t going to be good news.

“Your pregnancy test came back positive,” he said. “Based on your bloodwork, I would estimate you at about 6 weeks.”

The room spun around you. You suddenly felt way too hot and claustrophobic in this tiny room. You wished you had asked Eddie to come back with you. You felt incredibly dizzy, like you could pass out. This was not happening. It was not happening.

“You’ll need to start taking prenatal vitamins,” he continued, oblivious to your internal panic. “I’ll give you some brochures with information and resources.”

You left the doctor’s office with a handful of pamphlets on pregnancy, birth, babies, and motherhood. Your face was white as a ghost, and Eddie clocked it the second you walked back into the waiting room.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, standing as you approached him and wrapping you in a tight hug. The tears fell as you buried your face in his chest. He stroked your hair, whispering comforting words in your ear. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna figure this out. You’re gonna be okay.”

Eddie helped you walk back out to the van on shaking legs. You couldn’t stop the tears now. Your life was over. Billy was never going to want to stick around for this.

Oh, god. Billy.

You didn’t even want to tell him. It was going to be a disaster. He was already embarrassed for anyone to know you were hooking up, but for the whole school to know he had gotten you pregnant? He would never allow that.

You were on your own.

Fuck.

You wanted to skip school, but your parents weren’t buying the “I’m sick” excuse. Of course it was the one morning you weren’t throwing up everything you’d eaten the night before. You got yourself together as much as you could, dressing yourself in a band tee and your favorite ripped jeans.

Eddie stayed by your side as much as he could at school. He met you in front of the school and walked you inside to your first class. You were grateful for his support.

It was halfway through first period when the nausea hit you again. Your hand shot up, asking “Can I go to the restroom?” and then sprinting out of the room before you even got a response. You barely made it to the bathroom in time, locking yourself in a stall and falling to your knees as you threw up.

When you were done, your eyes were watering. You grabbed some toilet paper and wiped your face, flushing the toilet and standing up shakily. You straightened your clothes and unlocked the stall door, walking out into the bathroom.

Only to see Carol Perkins, of all people.

She gave you a smug smile, tucking some of her curls behind her ear. “Hope you feel better, Freak.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed past her back into the hall, but you couldn’t help the pit in your stomach, the voice in your head telling you this is very, very bad.

You were surprised that nothing seemed to come of it as you moved on to your next classes. By the time you went to lunch, you were wondering if maybe she just kept it to herself for once.

That bubble was popped by Gareth Emerson.

The second you and Eddie placed your trays down at your usual spots, all the boys looked up at you. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant all looked at you with pity, which made your stomach twist into knots.

“…What?” You asked hesitantly, your blood running cold.

Gareth looked at Eddie, then back to you. “Uh…Carol Perkins is telling everyone you’re pregnant.”

If you weren’t already nauseous, you certainly were now. It was suddenly hard to breathe, your hands gripped onto your tray tightly as you tried to focus and calm yourself, but it wasn’t working. Your breaths were coming in shorter, like you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs.

The feeling of Eddie’s hand grabbing your arm brought you out of it. His rings were cold against your skin, grounding you to reality. Your reality wasn’t that great, though.

“Jesus, are you okay?” Jeff asked.

“It’s not…true, is it?” Gareth asked, his eyebrows raised.

You burst into tears. You couldn’t help it. You covered your face with your hands, crying your eyes out. This seriously could not be happening like this. You knew it would come out eventually - I mean, you could only hide it for so long - but you weren’t ready for it now. You’d only had one night to wrap your head around it yourself.

“Oh god,” Gareth said. “It is true.”

Eddie pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back and giving Gareth a dirty look over the top of your head. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. Calm down.”

“It’s not okay,” you sobbed into his shirt. “Everyone knows. That means Billy’s heard. The whole school has heard. My life here was shitty enough, this is a whole other level.”

“Wait, Billy?” Gareth said, exchanging a look with Jeff and Grant. “Billy Hargrove?”

Eddie gave him another look. He stroked your hair, the soothing gesture helping to calm your racing heart. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. You’re going to be okay.”

Billy flicked the ash off his cigarette before bringing it back up to his lips. He leaned against his car, talking with Tommy Hagan. He was just about to leave when Carol came walking over, smiling like she knew something they didn’t.

“Hey baby,” Tommy greeted her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Have you guys heard?” Carol asked, like she couldn’t wait to say whatever she knew. Billy wasn’t particularly interested, dragging on his cigarette one more time.

Tommy took the bait, however. “About what?”

When it was your name that came out of Carol’s mouth, it grabbed Billy’s attention fully. He glanced up at Carol nonchalantly, but he was listening intently.

“What about that Freak?” Tommy asked with a laugh.

Carol giggled. “She’s pregnant. I caught her throwing up in the bathroom during first period.”

Billy felt sick to his stomach. He tossed his cigarette to the ground, stubbing it out with his boot. “No way that’s true.”

“Why?” Carol asked, furrowing her eyebrows at Billy.

Because you would have told him, right? And he always used a condom. There was no way. “That Freak? No way she’s getting any action.”

Carol and Tommy laughed like Billy had said the funniest thing they’d ever heard. “I don’t know though,” Carol said, “Tina said she’s been running out of class to go to the bathroom all week. She’s definitely knocked up. It’s probably Munson’s. Two freaks in love.” Carol giggled, and Tommy started laughing again.

Billy forced himself to laugh, but nothing was funny. He wanted to throw up himself. “Hey, I left something in my locker. I’ll see you guys later.” He pushed off his car and walked back into the school.

He had to find you. He had to find out what the hell was going on.

You closed your locker as you got the last book you needed for your homework. You had waited until most of your classmates had left, the hallway deserted. The looks from your classmates all day had been enough. You shoved your stuff into your backpack, preparing to leave to meet Eddie at his van.

As you were walking down the hall, the doors opened and you saw Billy walking towards you. You felt like turning and running the other way. As he reached you, he nodded towards an empty classroom.

You thought about ignoring him, about leaving and letting Eddie take you home and maybe transferring schools and never seeing any of these people again. Instead, you followed him into the classroom.

Inside the empty room, Billy was pacing, running his hand through his dirty blonde curls. Your stomach hurt as you closed and locked the door behind you. When you reached him Billy spun on you, his eyes wild.

“Are you pregnant?”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. This was not how you wanted him to find out. You thought you’d have more time, time to think about what to say and how exactly to break the news. Fucking Carol Perkins.

“Yes,” you said, opening your eyes to look at Billy.

He looked horrified. “You’re- it- it’s…mine?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding slowly. “Yeah. It’s yours.”

Billy let out a rush of air. He started combing his fingers through his mullet again, pacing back and forth in front of you. “I- we- there’s just no fucking way. I used a condom every time.”

“Condoms can fail, Billy-“

“Bullshit,” he said. “I mean, yeah, but it’s so rare. There’s…there’s no fucking way you’re- pregnant with my kid.”

“You’re the only person I’ve slept with,” you reminded him, your voice small. You knew you weren’t the only girl he slept with. “And I went to the doctor. They did blood work. I’m definitely…pregnant.” The word was still hard to say.

Billy shook his head. “You- this is fucking insane. I’m not raising some kid.”

Your stomach dropped. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” he breathed out another rush of air. “I’m not doing this. Whatever you want from me, I’m not doing it. I’m not ruining my life to raise a kid.”

The tears welled up in your eyes. “So you’re saying you’re abandoning us.”

Billy scoffed. “‘Abandoning.’ I have more to live for than this. I was gonna…I was gonna get out of here.” He laughed humorlessly. “I was gonna get the fuck out of this shithole town. I was gonna go back to California. I…” He shook his head. “I’m not doing this. I’ll give you money for an abortion, I’ll take you to get it, whatever. But I’m not doing this.”

And with that he left, slamming the classroom door behind him and leaving you alone.

The tears really fell then. It was worse than you imagined. You were really all alone in this. Just you…and your baby.

On your own.

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@rincallistis

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rei-ismyname · 2 days ago

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Uncanny X-Men #8 review - Raid on Graymalkin finale

Raid on Graymalkin has been a strange event in a lot of ways. It happened very early after an editorial and creative team change, it's only four issues spread over 2 books, and perhaps most of all, editorial both spoiled the ending and hyped up an ideological divide between Rogue and Cyclops. The big question is 'was the hype paid off?' Sadly, no - Uncanny #8 doesn't so much land the plane as crash it into a mountain. A plane crash can be a spectacle though, let's break it down. At the very least it looks great. This is a long one, so strap in.

We get to know Scurvy a little better.

X-Men #9 ended with both teams in Scurvy/ Philip's psychic thrall and Charles Xavier taking the stage after Kurt and Kwannon freed him. Uncanny #8 opens with his POV of his recent history, showing a 'Not All Mutants' mutant and how he ended up in an abusive relationship with a right wing podcast host. Well, it shows how they met, how his powers work, and how Warden Ellis has used him.

His powers aging him drastically explains why he's reluctant to go all out and perhaps how his powers helped an Infowars knock off to get this job. YMMV on whether this makes him sympathetic; it's certainly a 180 from the plain pathetic he has been portrayed as thus far. We spend a lot of time with him this issue, but it's all so vague I don't feel like we actually know all that much about him. He is portrayed as a victim, though he's also in the process of frying our heroes' brains and enslaving people. On the other hand, we get so little of his motivations and feelings that there's not much there. Villains/antagonists need to be developed to be interesting, and I'm not sure if Scurvy is a victim of Ellis' crusade or a self hating mutant who gave 'everything to a dream' for ... reasons. He's literally killing himself and it'd be good to know why.

Scurvy has been hyped as a Psychic on par with Xavier, something Xavier himself hasn't exactly confirmed but he has admitted Scurvy is an obstacle. They haven't met but Scurvy's been aware of Xavier, presumably because he's world famous and announced Krakoa to everyone on the planet. Scurvy suggests it's more than that - he and Charles are part of a group of five mutants called Avians, one of whom died - Harvey X. Chuck has had an oversized presence in Simone's Uncanny X-Men and another vague mystery about him takes up space that could be used to develop other characters - The Outliers, Jubilee, Nightcrawler. This 'Avian' business feels like The Twelve and other similar half baked plots, and how can Charles have a tumour if he's in a relatively new body? He died last in Inferno AFAIK, but more than that it feels unnecessary. I'm not invested in believing or disbelieving it, though Chuck dying might make X-Manhunt more interesting.

Chuck isn't showing up again until March, and Scurvy ages 10 years during this issue. Why are we spending all this time on these people that aren't main characters? Does Xavier really need to be part of some special unexplained group? He's been a very special and prominent part of the X-Men since 1963 - new old girlfriends and vague hints of specialness feel like mystery box overkill. Maybe Scurvy is lying as part of their psychic battle. Laws of narrative economy suggest otherwise, but either way - what's the point? Also, Avians? Are they birds? Maybe it's a Shi'Ar thing but right now it sounds ridiculous. Avians 🙄

Juggernaut knocks Rogue out of Scurvy's control and she thinks she has time to do the same to one other person. She apologises to Gambit for not choosing him and picks Cyke as the tactical choice, nearly knocking his head off. He snaps out of it too and shit gets bizarre.

For some reason Scott chooses this moment to berate Rogue for 'bringing kids into a war zone' which is a super valid point but I find it difficult to believe he'd bring it up while they're on the back foot and threats are everywhere. Rogue's answer is even more puzzling. I can believe she'd make an appeal to emotion but it's not a real answer. 'At least we don't have Magneto on our team' is not a rebuttal to nearly getting children killed, but it also does not make sense.

Magneto has been reformed for YEARS at this point and was a driving force behind Krakoa. She's saying like he's some irredeemable villain when he's the most heroic he's ever been. He and Rogue had zero interaction on Krakoa, where he was considered a national hero and famously was very tight with her hero Xavier. If she has an issue with the sins that came to light after Inferno, then she wouldn't be so charitable to Chuck, either. Maybe it's Scurvy's influence, but if so then what's the point? This isn't ideology, it's dodging the question at worst or petty bickering at best. Has Rogue forgotten her extensive history with Magneto, or her own start as a villain? What about her husband's involvement in the Mutant Massacre or her parents' unrepentant villainy? When considered in the context of Simone saying that Rogue and Cyclops would occupy the Xavier/Magneto relationship it looks like a missed shot. You'd have to ignore decades of history to make it work. Sigh, this was an unforced error and it really bums me out.

'I'm never going to be you and you're never going to be Professor X' is flat out weird. Cyclops answer of 'good' is consistent with his argument last issue, but it makes it look like they're not having the same conversation. Finally they realise they're in a war zone and only now does Rogue defer to Cyclops. Oookayyy. They say 'Magik and Wolverine' together in a moment that's both cheesy as hell and should underline their commonalities. I'm almost feel bad ragging on this, but it's not executed well. At least Rogue is consistently characterised as a cowboy. That's something.

Magik and Wolverine start freeing people then stop to agree not to kill each other. Deathdream says weird stuff, as usual, and the two make up. Jitter has her second instance of love heart emoji'ing a woman, which is cute but still deniable as actual WLW representation. I hope Simone cashes this cheque.

Queerness should be something that's not notable in a perfect world, just a part of the character. We don't live in a perfect world though, and we don't know a lot about Jitter. We know her powers, that she's Malay Singaporean, that she has a stutter, and that she possibly likes women. It's not enough for issue #8 of the flagship series. The choice was made to heavily focus on Xavier and Sarah Gaunt, and a casualty of that was getting to know main characters. It wouldn't be such a big deal if the payoff was worth it, but what did we actually learn? Instead of giving readers a break from Charles Xavier, he's been a regular presence. His appearance in this event could have been more impactful but I feel like we never had a chance to miss him.

Kwannon and Kurt reveal that Scurvy made them fight, which Rogue is aware of, and she adds that 'we're broken.' I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean, but this undermines the stakes of the ideological conflict. Is it manufactured or isn't it? None of them consider attacking Scurvy while he's fighting Xavier, either. Nobody is acting like they're in danger. It feels unserious, like the characters are just waiting for things to happen to them.

At this point I don't really care who Inmate X is. Uncanny X-Men has been dropping these mystery boxes that readers can only guess at, and like with Harvey X being the one pulling strings, it comes out of nowhere. It's another Avian, which means nothing to us beyond a vague implication of specialness. We know that Ellis considers it a bad thing if he get out of his cell, but that doesn't narrow it down aside from it being a he.

Aw, cripes - popular gen Z saying

Interestingly, Xavier's astral form is that of his Cerebro-helmeted onesie twink. It could reveal that he hasn't changed at all in how he sees himself and his role as shepherd of mutantkind. It's very different from his classic astral battle appearance, and I love it thematically and visually. Scurvy and Chuck as astral giants towering over the schoolprison is striking, though the casualness of their dialogue mutes it somewhat.

Not sure how Ezra or Ellis can tell Scurvy is losing a battle on the astral plane, but she does what she should have done before this and gets a gun. Calico is overjoyed that the Outliers (except Jitter) came for her, but what could be a heartwarming moment is undercut by their dulled expressions. I can buy Deathdream doing this, but Ransom has been emotionally aware prior to this. We have zero details, but aren't these kids tight after months of being on the run together?

It's finally time to stop standing around, as Ellis and guards are here with guns. The X-Men, having already beat up plenty of these dudes, aren't impressed. They stand together (no idea where Chuck and Scurvy got to) and Cyke urges her to stand down, pointing out that they're not as nice as the Avengers. Rogue agrees in the shittiest way possible, thinking 'sometimes visor boy says jus the right thing.' Weird ableist stance from Rogue, but all it does is highlight how shallow their conflict is and remind us that Gail Simone doesn't like Cyclops.

Ellis doesn't blink, telling them her 'brother died because of trash like you.' We knew this already, and I'm wondering if there's anything else to her. She's established as a threat but she's not especially interesting. She helped with Sarah Gaunt out of empathy (?) but here she is flinging the same old slurs. I'm not sure if her dark skin is meant to be noteworthy or say anything. So far it hasn't been a part of her character in any way other than visual, no commentary on how someone who has experienced minority oppression becomes so hell-bent on dealing it out herself. How does a person become willing to enslave and torture, and even (as we'll see) destroy two towns with thousands of humans in them? Her brother died, sure, but that's thin characterisation for a multi-arc villain.

Chuck wallops Scurvy with an uppercut!

Ellis brings out The Trustees again (who the X-Men easily defeated) to have Blob recite 'the pledge.' Very messed up but it shouldn't exactly convince the X-Men to do anything other than smash this place to pieces. She threatens to let Sarah Gaunt loose from her comically large chains that shouldn't stop her for a second.

Cyclops points out that with Scurvy's defeat Ellis' big gun is down. She laughs at that, and for some reason Chuck doesn't immediately take over her brain. Her big gun is more literal - a fucking network of sonic cannon satellites. Who TF gave this lady a Death Star? She has Merle and Haven targeted but Rogue thinks she's bluffing. Logically, you'd think so. Would the US government really accept this maniac destroying towns with a space laser? Not sure how they'd spin that. Also, neither team have any leverage to stop her using it whenever she wants. I feel like she's forcing them to kill her right here and now, lest their strategic position becomes 'able to be killed at any time without effort.' They could even just send her on permanent vacation to Limbo, see how her bullshit flies with Maddie Pryor.

Ellis lets them take the people they came for (why?) but that's not enough for Rogue. Siryn speaks to Rogue personally while crying, indicating she's herself, as much as she can be with all the torture, mind control, and who knows what else? It's only when Xavier intercedes that Rogue listens.

Charles explains why he needs to be in prison (though we know he'll change his mind and escape in March) and they have an emotional exchange. It works, I guess, but Rogue looks super selfish and ignorant. Free Charles for personal reasons when he doesn't want it at the cost of two towns? Doesn't seem like much of a choice (other than knocking Ellis out while she's in your face.) It feels a bit regressive for Rogue, too. She is aware of everything from Fall of X (including Chuck manipulating one of her mothers and trying to permanently kill the other) and hadn't really had or needed a mentor in a long time. Sure, everyone is lost after Krakoa, but WTF is she so attached to Xavier? It's great that he was the first to believe in her but this feels almost infantilising. Rogue is better than this.

Scott has Magik open a big portal before 'she' can stop you. I assume 'she' refers to Rogue, except Rogue is shown willingly walking through it with everyone else. Ellis wasn't interested in stopping them. It's like everyone has the script and realises the event is over so it's time to go. I have difficulty believing any of these characters would just meekly leave, not because of Xavier, but the multiple sonic space cannons that can kill them anytime plus their enslaved comrades. There's eight regular ass humans with guns in the way and this is their shot to do anything about it. How many of these X-Men could take them all out by themselves? Cyke could optic blast them unconscious, Magik has multiple methods, and many of the others could just punch them while ignoring bullets.

Yo, where's Quentin? He arrived with you guys.

Once Rogue has walked through the portal (clearly willingly and without duress) she objects again - 'no. We can't leave him there!' Cyke echoes Charles' own words and promises to get the others out, but Rogue punches him maybe ten feet and not only repudiates Scott's promises (?) but places the blame entirely on him. He blasts her and tells her to grow up (kinda fair) but then their teammates hold them back. Beast tells Scott he won, but this looks like a narrative trick to pretend Cyclops wanted to fight or has any reason to.

Rogue turns to leave with mild venom and her team follows. Hank assures Scott that he had no choice and Scott disagrees but doesn't elaborate. I hate to see X-Men fight but it's even worse when it's over nothing. The post-portal events feel like Simone going 'hmm, didn't really sell that ideological divide or their falling out, fuck it, just have Rogue punch Cyclops.' I think Cyclops was mostly right here, but it's more than Rogue was wrong and the conflict was contrived. I just don't buy the degree of animosity Rogue has and all the reasons given feel out of character. If that's who Rogue is right now I can accept it, but it's not very heroic and she's had multiple egregious failures of leadership. If this is identified as a character flaw that needs working on or a mistake that she regrets it could make for interesting storytelling, but all the information we have suggests that's not the case. Uncanny is frankly a trainwreck, but at least it looks fantastic. The letters page and other media suggests a lot of people are enjoying this book, and I couldn't be happier for them. I just wish I was too. I'll keep reviewing it of course, and I'll be less harsh than this review was. It was hyped and it called shots and didn't deliver. Doing that sets expectations and gives me another metric to judge it by. Hopefully we can get on with learning about the characters who've been neglected.

As for Raid on Graymalkin as an event, it had its ups and downs. Most of the ups were in X-Men and most of the downs were in Uncanny. Ultimately it didn't fulfill the promise it made so I judge it as a failure. We didn't learn a great deal and it boiled down to a cynical excuse for X-Men to punch each other. The mysteries it introduced feel dull to me and I am not especially interested in the Avians or Inmate X. The solicits for X-Manhunt spoiled that Xavier wasn't going anywhere, which left us with forced conflict. I'm far more interested in the aftermath of the event, especially the Alaska team dealing with a visit from the O*N*E. They don't really need much reason to fuck with the X-Men so I'm not crediting the event with that.

Thanks for reading!

#raid on graymalkin #uncanny x men #x men #rogue #cyclops #charles xavier #professor x #magik #wolverine #corina ellis #x comics #marvel #comics #review #scurvy #gail simone

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