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schumachersricciardo · 18 days

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Shiver

Chapter Four - Fathers Be Good to Your Daughters

♡ Mick Schumacher x Reader, Best friend!Danny Ricc x reader

♡ TW: PLEASE READ BEFORE PROCEEDING!

This chapter contains descriptions of physical, emotional, AND mental abuse by a parent to their child. It contains descriptions of the aftermath of the physical abuse. It also contains scenarios where reader is verbally abused by a parent. If this is triggering for you, there will be a TLDR at the very end of the chapter. Please scroll down to the end of this page if you want to know what this chapter is about, but not read it in its entirety.

♡ TW: Swearing, inaccurate timeline of F1/F2/F3, badly translated German using Google, not proofread, anxiety and panic, crying, alcohol consumption, a mention of throwing up (but not graphically or anything), allusions to a smutty situation, mentions of female anatomy, making out (??), angst, hurt/comfort, physical/mental/emotional/verbal abuse - read above.

♡ She/Her pronouns are used, nothing descriptive about reader except that her hair is long enough to pull back into a ponytail or braid, no reader insert, timeline skips. ALSO: WARNING!!!! I will barely be mentioning Michael Schumacher. I do not presume to know what he is thinking, or would say in these fictional scenarios. I am trying to be respectful of their privacy and not make any assumptions!!!!!! He will be mentioned here and there, but I do not believe any dialogue will be associated with him. If you do not like that, then do not read it. :)

♡ About 12.3k words, lmao. Oops

♡ A/N: For one, this chapter was so emotional and personal for me to write. I'm very happy with the way that it turned out, as it took me about two days to complete it! It's quite a long chapter, so please take breaks if you need to. Thanks again for being so nice to me, and I hope you enjoy it.

Also, this chapter is not in chronological order of events. I based the sections on what lyrics are put and what I thought would go well with them.

I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU DECIDE TO READ OR NOT READ!

If you or anyone you know is a victim of abuse, please do not hesitate to call the provided numbers after clicking any of the links at the bottom of this page.

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based on the song lover of the light by mumford and sons

“Stretch out my life and pick the seams out

Take what you like, but close my ears and eyes

Watch me stumble over and over”

Mick knew from a very early age that having solid friendships was something very important to have in order to build a strong foundation in life. He saw that modeled so dearly by his father, and all the friendships he had made over the years. His older sister had great friends who treated Mick with nothing but respect… And some pranks. And his mother (besides the envied relationship she had with his father, her husband) always stressed that having good, pure of heart friendships would take you further in life than anything else.

And for the first time in his life, Mick felt that warmth and joy with you just weeks after you had moved to Germany. Your friendship bloomed quickly and tightly, as you two seemingly became inseparable. It was a rare sight seeing one of you, without the other at school. Everyone could notice the shift in momentum when you were absent and Mick was left confused as to what to get to lunch that day. And vice versa, when he’d be gone - you’d be often found wandering around the school’s library not actually picking out a book, at every recess you had.

But Mick as bad at math as he was, was more acutely aware of any signs of emotional or mental change in you than one would believe. He could see it in your expressions and body language if you were going through something at home. Your nose would scrunch more and you’d have more difficulty doing simply math problems than usual. You made it a point to never chew on your pencils or straws, but if you were particularly stressed… You could easily bite through the stick of lead or plastic. Mick knew this and he recognized it more as your friendship grew. Most of the time, you’d reassure him with the exact smile he fell in love with and most of the time he’d take your word for it.

Except the day he didn’t and refused to let up when he could tell it was more than just stress.

“It’s fine, Mickey, just drop it.”

“I will not drop this, Smidge!” Mick was now chasing his best friend down as she stormed out of his room.

“Leave it alone, ugh!” You spat back, as you opened the back door and tried to create some space between you and the blond boy. You took your hair out its ponytail holder in frustration, trying to make that antsy feeling going away by running furious hands through your hair.

“Smidge, I swear, if you do not tell me what is going on right now-“

“Oh, you swear?” You turned on your heel in anger and gestured towards whatever imaginary thing you were gesturing as you huffed. “You swear you’re going to do something about it? Huh? Fuck off, Mick!”

Mick let out a scoff, which kind of turned into a laugh? He was laughing now? You rolled your eyes and turn your back on him once again. You had plopped yourself on the lawn, looking out at the vast city line in front of you. You began to pick at the grass below you, your hands needing something to fiddled with to try and center your anxiety. You took a deep breath. Mick could see from behind the way your shoulders rose, and shakily fell. He knew you were trying not to cry. And of course he never wanted to see you cry, but part of him wishes you did. He knew it would probably make you feel better… But to be honest, the last time he could remember you crying in front of him was when you fell off your scooter just a few meters from the very house you were constantly visiting. Mick tried to shake that happy thought out of his mind, because he didn’t want to ruin it.

“Smidge… Please, I know there is something bothering you, and I promise I will not tell anybody else… But you know I hate it when I cannot help you.” Mick spoke softly as he took a seat beside you. You avoided eye contact.

Mick was trying to decipher what your facial expression was like, but your hair had fallen and was covering the view. He took a deep breath and reached his hand over to yours. Grabbing your fingers delicately, while also trying to get you to stop pulling out the grass, he gave your hand a squeeze. You squeezed back gently and still without making eye contact, you scooted closer to him. You leaned against him, your head on his shoulder. He adjusted as needed, his right arm placed behind him so he could support the both of you.

You always found comfort and safety tucked underneath him. And you knew that you two would be sharing a blanket and watching a movie in no time. But that fleeting thought only gave you a second of relief. The two of you remained in silence as you listened to the rustling of the wind as it danced with the leaves and branches. You could hear birds chirping in the distance and you could practically cut the calmness of the world around you with a knife. This is where you wanted to be. You never wanted to leave this spot, but life was never that kind and soon enough, reality pulled you back in as Mick’s humming brought you and your daydreaming to a halt.

“I didn’t do well on my last math exam.” You stated.

Mick stopped humming. He was trying to figure out why that of all things had you so upset. He didn’t comment though

“I got a B- or something…” You sighed. “I studied and I studied… But I only got a B-… It was humiliating.”

“I am sorry about that, Smidge. I know how much you value getting good grades.” Mick finally responded. His tone was… trying to be supportive, but he really didn’t understand why getting a B- in math was so devastating. He would LOVE to get that grade on a math exam, even after studying.

“I don’t care about getting good grades, Mickey.” You retorted quicker than you probably should have. You stiffened your posture and moved away from him. Your heart rate was picking up and you were getting nervous. Mick noticed. He noticed everything when it came to you.

The blue eyed boy wasn’t sure what came over him next, but as you sat now sort of in front of him, he guided his hand up to your face and moved your hair out of the way. He tucked in what he could behind your ear, a few pieces falling still. You looked up at him and he could finally see… and feel just how distraught you were.

“He cares that I get good grades.” You finally croaked out.

Mick’s facial expressions now were the confusing ones. At first he was relieved you told him. The next second he was confused as to why that was the reason you were upset…. And the third was panic. And he’d never admit this to you, but if it were because of some guy at your school making fun of you for something like that… Oh he’d have some words with that person.

“Oh… Ehmmm… Oh…” Mick pressed his lips together in confusion. You could see the gears moving in his head as he tried to figure out who you were talking about.

“My dad.” You finally cut him off. He looked as though he was about to give himself an aneurysm if you didn't stop him from thinking so hard.

“Oh.”

Now, Mick has always had his suspicions about your home life. For instance, when you didn’t come to class one day when you two were younger, the teacher had made a comment about if he knew about your home life or not. He then went to his father and asked advice. He let it go for the time being, because you really weren’t absent a lot, but he made sure make a mental note for later. Seemingly, you had a pretty decent home life. You got along with your older brother, and you always said your mom was one of your best friends. Albeit, you never spoke much about your father. He was in the military and pretty high up in command. His job was very ‘hush hush,’ so even you, his daughter had limited if information on what he actually did as well. You always spoke about him with respect though, and never making it seem like there was anything going on at your house.

But Mick… Mick was sorely mistaken. You were wearing a zip up jacket which wasn’t uncommon, but Mick did think it was a bit warm for it. He never would dream on commenting on what you were wearing though. Slowly, you peeled the jacket off of you and as slowly as you did, was as slowly as he could process what was in front of him.

Your arms were littered with bruises. Not just bruises, fingerprints. Someone was pressing into your skin, your precious beautiful skin so hard that they left their fingerprints. Mick blinked quickly, trying to see if his brain was playing tricks on him. Soon enough, you took off your shirt as well. Mick didn’t even care to notice you in your sports bra. But there were even more bruises on your skin that you had been covering for some time now. Based on the yellowing on the biggest one near your ribs on your left side… You had gotten hurt a while ago. Yet, there were bruises on your back and your chest that indicated they were fairly new. Mick felt like his heart was going to explode and his brain was going to go with it.

You allowed him to look at you - to process the information presented. You thought that showing instead of telling would be more effective, anyway. Moments later, you put your shirt back on and sighed. And if you weren’t sat in the middle of Mick’s backyard, you’d shed your leggings too to show the damage there.

Mick shakily breathed out your name, which he never called you. He always called you Smidge or Liebling - never your real name. He himself felt tears brimming in his eyes as he watched you put your shirt back on and throw your hair back into a ponytail. It was as though the visual he was getting was completely different from the mental images he was receiving. He couldn’t catch up and he just did not know what to do.

“How long?”

Mick finally gained composure and demanded to know more. His tone was serious, short. He was never this… Cold with you? You could tell he was absolutely fuming too. The tips of his ears were turning red as his jaw pulsated with every clench of it. Now he was the one unconsciously grabbing clumps of grass and ripping them to shreds.

“What???” You tilted your head.

“How. Long. Has. He. Been. Beating. You.” The angrier he got the more German he got too. His accent was quite thick as he stood to his feet and began pacing. It was never a good sign when he would pace. His fists were wound up in tight balls, knuckles pale white with tension, as he thought of every scenario in which he could kill your father, and get away with it.

“Mickey-“

“No, don’t you dare ‘Mickey’ me right now! How long has he been beating you up?” Mick cut you off and rushed towards you. He was just inches from you now.

You knew he was angry, irate even. And you knew he’d never hurt you, and that this anger was not directed towards you. But on instinct, you backed up as your breath caught in your chest.

Mick shook his head, running his hands through his hair. He knew his parents would be home soon and he knew if they saw how angry he was… They’d have questions, and he could never lie to them… Which means they’d figure out exactly what was going on with you… Which meant… Well, war.

You took another deep breath and bravely closed the gap between you. You had never felt anything like you had before Mick. You had never had a boyfriend, nor any friends that even came close to the security you felt with him. You reached up and caressed his cheek, his face leaning into the palm of your hand. You almost never initiated physical touch besides leaning on him. But he always welcomed it no matter how limited it would be. He closed his eyes and grabbed your hand in his, the both of them interlocking as he nuzzled into your hand farther.

“I…I can’t remember how long, Mickey. I can’t remember how long it’s been since it started.”

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“I have done wrong, you build your tower

But call me home and I will build a throne

And wash my eyes out never again”

There were rare occasions that you and Mick were not together, but he was handsome and simply because of his surname, was like catnip to ladies. While you were still in Formula Three, Mick had graduated to Formula Two. Even so, having his last name meant he was probably getting more invites than the average person.

But come on, no one is average in Monaco.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“Yeah, you too!”

Women’s bathrooms at parties and clubs were something else. There was no caste system in place and if you needed to cry about your ex or needed to puke your brains out before Gasolina came on (but who wouldn’t), a women’s bathroom at a club felt like the safest place to do those things.

“You’re with Shoemaker, right?” The very clearly drunk girl beside you yells in your face. Sure, you were also drunk… But why was she yelling?

“Schumacher.” You corrected.

“Yeah!! He has blond hair and is super hot? Yeah, dude, my friend was hardcore hitting on him and getting the vibe from him…” The girl beside you held in a burp… Or maybe she just was just not trying to puke in her mouth.

“Sure, he’s handsome.” You finally answered. You just wanted to get some water.

“Oooookay, well I th-think my girl is going to try and make a move on your friend,” The drunk girl slurred as she was trying to get the cap of her lipgloss separated from the tube of the glossy pink liquid. “I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything between you guys!”

The girl began applying her lipstick as you tried to process what she was saying through your own drunken state. Finally, it all came together and you turned your head to face her.

“You hunted me down just to ask me if your friend has permission to sleep with Mick?” You tried to sound as sober as possible.

The girl shrugged her shoulders and shot a quick smile to you as she gathered her purse.

“W-Well, you guys are always together! She just wanted to make s-sure you weren’t a thing.” You nodded as she finished speaking and primping her hair.

And maybe it was because you were drunk, the emotion of jealousy arose in you. Luckily, your cheeks were already flush from the shots of tequila you consumed earlier. You were sure Mick always had girls trying to hit on him and maybe they were successful in doing so. Mick was an adult and as long as they were consenting adults too, what’s the harm in him having a little bit of fun?

What’s the harm, right?

“No, Mickey and I are not a thing. So, uh, tell your friend to not worry about - not to worry about me.” You finally responded as you blotted a cold and wet paper towel on your face. The girl grinned and blew a kiss in your general direction, soon then stumbling out of the bathroom just as clumsily as she had stumbled into it.

You took a few deep breaths and looked down at your phone screen. The letters were moving on the screen as you tried to focus your eyes long enough to reach the Uber app. You didn’t know why you wanted to leave all of a sudden. Consciously, you knew Mick had his pick of women and probably picked from them when he wanted to. Yet again the giant green monster clung to your chest as if it was part of your beating heart. Sloppily typing your location into Uber, you managed to click ‘Order.’

Your driver is 13 minutes away.

You took one last look at the bathroom sink making sure that at the very least you had your wallet and hotel key card. Nodding to yourself, you made your way out of the bathroom and back into the sea of sweaty bodies and blasting music. The exit sign was aglow about 50 yards in front of you??? No - that can’t be right. 50 feet? 50… Dancing bodies? And as you did your best to toddle over to the exit, you finally managed to get out the door.

The crisp, cool air was a refreshing touch after being in a crowded club for hours now. Frankly, you didn’t like going out to clubs, but Mick did and any chance to score some free tequila was always a win in your book. You leaned up against the wall beside the club closing your eyes.

“Smidge? Was machst du hier draußen (What are you doing out here)?” A familiar voice, a very hoarse one at that brought you out of your drunken mini nap as you pried your dry eyes open to see who that was.

“Sie sollten nicht alleine draußen sein (You should not be outside by yourself).”

Mick’s usual perfectly coiffed hair was messily atop his head as his porcelain cheeks were red with the heat of the club and many shots of jäger he did. He wore a simple dark blue button up and black jeans. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows lazily matching the state of his hair. You smiled at the boy in front of you and eyed his hair up and down.

“I’m going home, Mickey. Well, not home-home.” You shrugged shoving your phone in his face. He backed up and his eyes squinted at the screen.

Your driver is 8 minutes away.

“Alright, Smidge.” Mick took a lean against the same wall just next to you.

Your shoulders were barely touching when you could feel his fingers try and find yours as your arms were at your side. Your heartbeat began to pick up as your hand finally found his. And it wasn’t a full hand hold… Yet this felt much more intimate. Barely interlocking fingertips, he hummed softly to himself as he looked up at the night sky.

“How did you even know I was out here? I thought you were getting hot and heavy with some chick somewhere.”

Mick let out a breathy laugh. He shook his head in disbelief and smiled widely.

“Hot and heavy?” He repeated in jest.

“Shut up.”

You rolled your eyes and tried your best not to look at him. You knew he was staring at you with those eyes and you also know you turn into a puddle when you look into them… especially when drunk.

“But no, I was not getting hot and heavy with that chick somewhere.” Mick finally spoke. “I’ll always find you, Smidge. Ihre Sicherheit steht für mich an erster Stelle (Your safety is my number one concern).”

“Ich bin erwachsen (I’m an adult).” You groaned looking at your phone screen.

Your driver is 4 minutes away.

The two of you stood again in silence as you still waited for your driver to arrive. Mick hummed to himself and suddenly, was kneeling on the ground. You looked down in utter confusion as he began to undo the clasps to your heels. He didn’t say a word as he managed to effortlessly undo both shoes of yours… And you were honestly impressed because you thought he was way more drunk than you. Taking something out of his own crossbody bag, he opened a tiny case and handed you some flats. You had told him a while ago about these ballet flats you saw on the internet that easily folded up for ease of access. You didn’t think he was paying attention, but there he was as he slipped the flats onto your feet and grabbed your heels.

You were frozen in stance. He was acting so casually as he looked down the road for the driver. Your heels were in his one hand while the other reached behind him for your hand. Hesitantly, you placed your hand in his and walked over to the curb.

“I think I see our driver.”

“Our driver?”

Your best friend and you exchanged equally as confused expressions. Mick’s expression was that of offense and disbelief, while yours was of perplexity and unsureness.

“Well, yeah. I am not about to send you back to your hotel room in the middle of the night in Monaco - alone.” Mick stressed and stretched out the last word as if it were supposed to be something completely obvious to you.

“Again though, I am an adult, Schumacher.”

Soon enough, the Uber driver pulled up to the curb and rolled down his driver’s window. The driver asked you for your name and as you recited your first and last name for some odd fucking reason, Mick opened the back door for you and ushered for you to get into the car. You eyed him carefully trying to decode his actions. Sliding into the car and putting your seat belt on, you were surprised when Mick also slid into the car.

“Can I change the address of the Uber? I will pay whatever you need to do so.” Mick chirped as he leaned towards the driver.

Your best friend and the driver exchanged the how’s of it all, and finally the car began to drive away from the still busy club scene.

“Why did you give him your address?” You whispered. You could feel the alcohol still inside yourself, swimming in your veins.

“Alone. Hotel room. Alone. Monaco. Alone-“

It was as though Mick was reciting the Winter Soldier’s trigger words. He spewed off the reasons and tried to also go through the whole ‘Concern for your safety,’ lecture one more time, this time with more emphasis. And truly, you didn’t know what came over you - or maybe you did and maybe those tequila shots were in fact a terrible idea - but as he was ranting and raving about the streets of Monaco and how (and this was very true) unsafe it was to be a woman alone at this time of night, you leaned over and cut him off with a press of your lips to his.

Mick’s hands found your waist as you had your hands on either side of his face. You had to remind yourself that you were still in the back of the Uber. Pulling away, you could see how glassy his eyes were, yet still filled with the same affectionate expression he always had towards you. Cuddling and tucking yourself into his side, you could hear him humming as he draped a hand over you.

“Thanks, and sorry for the confusion earlier.” Mick gave the driver an extra cash tip before the two of you made it to his condominium.

Mick drunkenly fumbled with his keys with one hand while holding yours with his other hand. You tried to pry your hand from his so he could have an easier way of unlocking his front door, but the grip he had on you said otherwise.

“If I can have a super license… I can open the door with one hand, Smidge.” The front door finally swung open after what felt like an eternity.

The two of you shed your shoes and as he plopped your heels down on the counter and washed his hands, you managed to find some food in his fridge.

“I’m drunker than I thought…” Mick mumbled as he came up behind you, his arms wrapping around you. You ever so slight leaned your head back so your the sides of your heads were touching.

And as you both looked at the inside of the fridge, not wanting to move, you could only turn around to face the boy. You put your arms around his neck and placed a kiss on his forehead. The intimate act was not lost on Mick, either. And this time his hum sounded differently than usual as he closed his eyes, holding you tightly to his body.

Finally as you two peeled apart, you grabbed a few beers and some leftover pizza, turning on your heel. Mick followed you as you navigated your way into his room. Well, he’d also just follow you anywhere, but as you entered his room, he could swear he was dreaming.

Mick helped you put the food and beer down and told you he was just going to changed into sweats as he disappeared into his bathroom. At the same time, you rummaged through his closet and drawers to find clothes. You dawned one of his old Ferrari shirts and some shorts you found that actually fit you.

After you both had changed, you got comfortable and sat on his bed criss cross waiting for him to come back. Mick was in his bathroom, his sweats already on, but his mind racing a mile a minute.

You both were way too drunk (even if it didn’t seem like it) to take things anything further, but for some reason tonight the ambience was much different - more intimate. It was the feeling he so desperately longed for you to feel as well. He’d never force you or guilt you into feeling the way he always has for you, but he was just happy to be able to be there for you when you reciprocated.

Even if it was just for one night… Mick kept repeating in his head as he splashed his face with water.

Mick exited the bathroom and smiled softly at the sight in front of him. You were absolutely glowing and the fact that you were wearing his clothes was even better. This was the life he wanted with you, and he knew he’d wait an eternity to earn it. And in any lifetime, he would want to find you, he knew that much to be true.

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“Skin too tight and eyes like marbles

You spin me high, so watch me as I glide

Before I tumble homeward, homeward”

Mick was absolutely dominating Formula Two, just as he did in Formula Three. So there you were visiting Mick the day before free practice was going to start in Silverstone.

He knew that your mother had just been diagnosed with cancer and that your time was vastly being taken up by transporting her from place to place when you could. Mick would always offer to help, but you didn’t want him to get involved in your family drama… Well, with your father.

“I think you’re going to do great things tomorrow, Mickey.” You smiled widely as you went to reach for something in the cupboard above you. The two of you were at his hotel room as he relaxed after a hard day of training and sim driving.

“You always say that, Smidge.” Mick peered over his shoulder to you, his eyes half focused on the video game’s loading screen in front of him.

The sound of dishes breaking quickly pulled him out of his half trance. He was on his feet and over to you as fast as Edward stopped that van crashing into Bella.

Your hand had been cut by the falling and breaking glass, the blood slowly beginning to pour out of the wound. You were praying you didn’t have to get stitches.

Mick responded hastily, grabbing the nearest dish towel and wrapping your hand with it. Pressure. Pressure. Pressure. He repeated in the back of his head as he pressed gently to your palm.

“I could have helped you, Smidge.” Mick broke the silence as you winced at his touch. As he helped you to your feet, he guided your hand under the now streaming water.

“I’m a big girl, Mickey.” You retorted, clearly aware that you were contradicting yourself as he washed your wound of any passing infections.

He just hummed in response as he shut the water off and examined your hand. He repeated that he thinks you didn’t need stitches, and that he would return shortly the first aid kit. True to his word, he gestured for you to take a seat on the couch. It was as if he knew exactly what you were thinking too, the way his touch was almost nonexistent because it was so soft as he bandaged your hand. Oddly though, you cowered in pain as he moved your arm to the side. It was an unseemly way of moving it, too as Mick tried to see if the bandage was tight enough on the side of the hand he couldn’t see.

Mick cocked his head to the side and stared at you with one look: That better not have been because of what I fucking think it is.

You hesitated being the one to break the looming silence between you two now, but you thought if you didn’t he’d say it aloud - and to have someone else say it aloud was sometimes worse than you admitting it.

“It’s not what you-“

“Show me.” Mick cut you off, his deepening blue eyes piercing the air with every hyperbole you could think of.

“Mickey, it’s really nothing. You just moved my arm a weird way, I’m okay.”

“Show. Me. Now.”

And as you always do what you’re told, you lifted your shirt slightly and before you could even take it off, Mick was stood on his feet and typing something into his phone. He didn’t utter a word to you for the next several minutes, he was just typing furiously on his phone. You had put your shirt back on and remained silent and sat on the hotel’s couch. You knew there was no stopping whatever he was doing.

“I have to finalize it, but you are to have security now. One guard, or eighteen, I do not care - You are no longer going to be alone.”

“Mick, I can’t have a security guard. I don’t even want one.” You took a deep breath and exhaled.

“I do not fucking care! I don’t! I really do not fucking care.” Mick had slammed his phone down on the counter making you flinch.

Fuck. And as he watched you carefully, you began to sob for only the third time in your entire friendship. Mick cursed himself in all the languages he knew as he approached you with trepidation. Sitting beside you, he began to mutter apology after apology, also in every language he could muster up in that moment. Mumbling again to himself, he grabbed the blanket off of the back of the couch and wrapped you both in it. You were still crying as you tucked yourself safely into his side. You felt badly for staining his shirt.

“Ich weiß nicht, was ich tun soll (I don’t know what to do).” You spoke in a whisper as you gripped onto his shirt with dear life.

And frankly, maybe his way was a bit extreme, but he only had one train of thought as he hummed between the two of you, his arm tightening around you.

Take you far away from him and bring her home to you, Schumacher.

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“I know I tried, I was not stable

Flawed by pride, I miss my sanguine eyes

So hold my hands up, breathe in and breathe out”

As school children, it seemed like the two of you were inseparable. There were weekends where you didn’t see him, of course, but you’d always get to talk on the phone after his karting events. You truly appreciated the way his family opened up their home and arms to you, as well. You really didn’t know how much they knew about your own home life, but it was something to be said that they never invaded your privacy.

Mick had finished second in his karting race, which wasn’t the result he obviously was vying for, but it was amazing nonetheless. As his family made their way back to the hotel room, he got cleaned up and made his way over to the tiny kitchen.

“Has she called yet?” Mick’s small voice interrupted his mother’s train of thought.

“No, baby. But I will let you know when she does; I always do.” Mick’s mother reassured him as he frowned and walked towards the tv area of the hotel room.

Mick’s mother sighed and watched her son sulk on over to the couch. She knew how much he cared for you, and even as young as he was, she also knew he loved you. He might have not known it was love at the time, but she knew all the signs of it and he exhibited every single one of them. She put away whatever she was working on, and made her way over to the couch. She sat beside her son and grabbed his hand reassuringly.

“Is there something wrong, Sohn (son)?”

“She never is this late to call me, Mama…” He quietly uttered. “I think there is something wrong.”

While his mother pressed for more information he truly didn’t have, he tried his best to vocalize all the things he noticed about you that were not typical. His mother began piecing the tiny bits of information he was giving to her together and all she could was sigh. She couldn’t have fathomed what you were going through at home and maybe Mick didn’t realize the signs as he listed them off for her, but she sure did. Part of her wanted to do something about too, right then and there… But it wasn’t totally her place either. She didn’t know the severity of the situation or if Mick was retelling things as correctly as a young boy could. All she could do was put it in the back of her head and make note of it.

A few hours later, Mick’s mother entered the room where Mick was relaxing on the full sized bed. He was playing some game on his Gameboy, his tongue slightly hanging out in pure concentration. She cleared her throat and handed him her phone. It took him a second to register what was happening, but as soon as it clicked he put his Gameboy down and grabbed the phone excitedly. Mick’s mother couldn’t help but smile as she left her son to his own devices.

“Smidge! Finally, you call. I have been waiting all afternoon for you to call!” Mick was energized now as he set up on his bed. He could hear you shuffling around, presumably trying to find a place to sit.

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

Now, Mick was around a lot of loud karts and when he’d go to his dad’s races, those were even louder. Was his hearing as bad as it was at his age or were you being abnormally quiet?

“Smidge? I can barely hear you! You have got to learn to speak up on the phone.”

Again, you said something but he could barely understand it. He tried to push you to speak louder as he pressed the phone to his ear as closely as he humanely could.

“Es tut mir… Leid. Ich… verstecke… mich und muss… flüstern… (I’m sorry. I’m hiding and I have to whisper).” You finally sputtered out in broken German.

Mick’s eyes widened as he finally understood what you were telling him. He didn’t care if you spoke an entirely different language, he would do anything he could to understand you.

“Vor wem versteckst du dich (Who are you hiding from)?” Mick was fully sat up, his legs dangling off the side of the bed now as he was on alert. It took you another few moments to gain enough bravery to speak.

“I’m hiding from-“

Suddenly, you were cut off by a booming voice. The voice was deep and loud enough that Mick could hear it over the phone. He pulled the phone away from his ear as he tried not to be afraid. The voice on the other line was muddled, but Mick picked up a few things here and there.

“WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT THE PHONE?”

“NO, YOU LISTEN TO ME, GIRL!”

“I’m sorry, dad! I’m sorry, please!” Your voice was frantic as you defended yourself to the best of your ability.

Mick was rushing now to where his mom sat on that same couch. He gestured for her to put it on speaker and listen too. Mick’s mother’s expression fell as she listened to absolute abuse you were going through and she knew right then and there, it would be something she would have to do something about.

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up, you stupid little girl!”

“Daddy, please-“

And then the line went dead, with the sound of your phone being crushed - stepped on in brute force.

Your voice was so tiny as you shrunk into yourself. You had no intention of allowing the Schumacher’s to hear that part of your life. You were deeply worried that they were going to try and intervene now and make matters… worse? You had a million thoughts going a million miles a minute.

But just as fast as those thoughts raced through your mind, was just as fast as your father stepped the phone. Mick knew you would deny everything, or at least tell him that your father was just exceptionally upset that day. He knew you’d come up with any and every excuse to protect the very man who was supposed to be protecting you. Mick couldn’t comprehend any of it. But he knew he would be there for you to make sure when you were ready, and you let your guilt be washed away… That he would make certain you never hurt again.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“And in the middle of the night, I may watch you go

There'll be no value in the strength of walls that I have grown

There'll be no comfort in the shade of the shadows thrown

You may not trust the promises of the change I'll show

But I'd be yours if you'd be mine”

Mick and the rest of his family were on a short summer break in Australia. He offered for you to join him as he always wants you by his side, but due to your mother’s declining health you had to refuse. Of course he understood, but he was still disappointed. He remembered distinctly you telling him that Australia was one of your favorite places and that you wish you could move there one day.

And it being summer in Australia, the sun was sweltering and Mick was trying not to get sunburnt as he sat under the tree near the lake where his family was staying. There was an old bench swing attached to the large branches above it. Mick debated the stability of the swing and the branches, but eventually gave in and sat on it. Gently swinging back and forth, he took in the scenery and the sight of the beautiful vast lake in front of him.

He missed you. And sure he missed all his other friends, but you weren’t just anybody else. He missed you. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and searched for your name. Opening up the text message thread between you two, he began to type.

Smidgen ❤️: Smiiiiiiiidge, i misssssssss you!!

You were at your mother’s house, trying to spend as much time with her as you could. She was taking a nap in the recliner beside you when you heard your phone ding.

You: Mickey, you sound drunk. Are you drunk? You know you’re not supposed to text people when you’re inebriated 😅

Mickey 🐭: Never! But I am not drunk, I just miss you.

You: Mick, you always miss me. How is Aussie?

Mickey 🐭: Boring without you.

You: As are most things. I’m sorry I couldn’t join you this year.

On the other side of the world, Mick sighed as you two continued to text. He loved his family and he loved his off time, but a deep seated part of him that had been growing and growing over so many years worried about you being by yourself. What if something were to happen and he was three continents away from you? What if he couldn’t protect you? You had always tried to reassure him that you could take care of yourself when he would be away, and that typically when you were at your mother’s house, you in fact were left undisturbed.

He knew this. But he didn’t care for it nonetheless.

Another two weeks went by on his vacation and as he tried to keep busy with various adventurous activities, the image of your smile and the sound of laughter filled his brain as if it they were always meant to be there, resting neatly in the crevices of his mind.

There was only about a week and a half left before he got to go back home to Germany. Mick was sprawled out on his bed, listening to some music. Soon, the sound of the doorbell ringing caught his attention. He was the only one currently home, so he annoyingly turned his music off and got up to go see what the fuss was about. Upon opening the door he was stopped in his tracks. He practically had to scoop his jaw off of the floor.

“Smidge? Do my eyes deceive me?” You shook your head with a grin.

Mick engulfed you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground and peppering your face with kisses. He was always very affectionate with you. He brought you inside and gathered his breath back into his lungs. You had a duffel bag and a backpack with you that you managed to set down finally after the long awaited reunion was over. Looking around the house that was clearly lived in, you turned back to your best friend. He was grinning one of the biggest grins you had ever seen on his face while he grabbed two water bottles. Opening yours for you, he handed you the bottle and waited for you to sip it.

“I cannot believe you are here! I think this is the happiest I have ever been.”

“I can see that!” You laughed along with him as you took a few more sips of water. You sighed happily as you put the cap back on the bottle. “Is there a place I can put my stuff?”

Mick nodded with elation as he grabbed your two bags. Gesturing with his head, he motioned for you to go towards his room. You opened the door and saw that the bed was made and it was fairly clean. It was almost as if he knew you would come here. Mick set down the bags and awaited for you to finish your scan of the room. You turned around and didn’t realize how closely he was standing behind you, as you collided with his body. He used his hands to steady you and definitely took the opportunity to bring you into another hug. The smell of his cologne was familiar; safe. You nuzzled into his chest as his arm found solace wrapped around your body.

He didn’t know why you were here, and he really didn’t care, but he also knew that there was probably a good reason. It had to have been a good reason if you left your mother with her home care nurse, instead of…

Suddenly, Mick braced for the worst.

“Mick… Mick, you’re squeezing me too tightly.” You croaked out trying to unravel yourself from him. Immediately, he loosened his grip on you and smiled slightly.

“Sorry, Smidge. I just missed you a lot.” The two of you made your way to his bed and laid down on it together.

You easily found your way to the side of him and nestled in comfortably while he rested his head on top of yours.

“As glad as I am that you are here… Is your mother…?” Mick awkwardly tried to start a conversation. He needed to know one way or the other.

“She’s alive, Mick. She’s alive.”

The blond boy sighed a sigh of relief, pulling you even closer to him. He could feel his body relax and his body temperature increase when you would cuddle him. He didn’t respond to you, only hummed in consolation.

It had happened before in Monaco, the overwhelming feeling that you needed more from him. He didn’t pry further as to why you were there, and maybe that was a big reason as to why you were feeling pulled to him. For once, he didn’t press you to explain yourself or question why you bought a plane ticket all the way to Australia when your mother was as sick as she was. He simply was there to be there, and that meant more to you than anything at that moment.

You climbed on top of him, your bodies finding their ways around each other. Your legs were on either side of him as you sat on his torso. His hands found your hips, his eyes finding yours. And as glanced down at the boy below you, you wondered to yourself if this was always how it was supposed to be between the two of you. Leaning down and closing the gap between you, you again pressed your lips against his.

It was more fervent this time though. The catastrophic and carnal need to feel his hands roam your body and his lips claim yours as his overwhelmed your senses as your body melted into his. He was vigilant as he explored your body with his hands, making sure he wasn’t hurting you. You had to take a breath between the multiple shows of endearments between the two of you. His eyes were glued to you as you sat back up on his torso. Peeling your shirt off, you tossed it somewhere. Mick just watched in adoration as you removed your bra as well. He looked at your body on top of his as though you were sculpted by DaVinci himself. And by all accounts, you were.

You blushed at the attention he was giving you, only to remove yourself from sitting on top of him. He frowned and wondered if he did anything wrong. But before he could begin mentally listing things he could have done wrong, you tugged on his own shirt. He sat up and reached his hands back behind his head.

“Can I?” You interjected quickly your eyes filled with curiosity.

Mick just smiled and nodded. He let his shirt fall again and waited for you to approach him. You scooted closer to him and took a deep breath in and released. Sure, you had seen him shirtless countless amounts of times, but this was much, much different. You didn’t mind it.

Your fingers found the hem of his shirt and with a trying motion, you began to pull the shirt over his head. He assisted you a bit, his broad shoulders getting in the way of you being able to pull the shirt completely over his head. Your fingers began to dance down his chest, the circles and trails they were leaving behind was a feeling Mick would never forget. Still sitting up, you climb into his lap and had your legs on either side of him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gently tugged at the hair on the nape of it. Again, with a hunger and desperation you had never felt before your lips crashed into his and his hands found your hair in a hurried attempt to get as close to you as possible.

He never wanted to let go of you and the feeling that came with this. He had loved you for so long. And to have you here, in his bed, making it known that maybe… just maybe you loved him too… He didn’t want to wake up tomorrow morning. He didn’t want it to be a dream.

“Bist du sicher (Are you sure?)” Mick finally breathed out in between sloppy kisses. You gleamed at him, your lips swollen with fervor. Biting your bottom lip, you nodded. “I need words, schätzen. I need you to say-“

“Yes. I’m sure, Schumacher.”

Mick pulled you in again, his lips finding your neck as he peppered it with kisses, sucking ever so prudently as he made his way up and down the soft skin of your neck.

You didn’t know what would come after this, after everything was said and done… But for now and just for now, you wanted to be his just as much as he wanted to be yours.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

current day

“So love the one you hold

And I will be your goal

To have and to hold

A lover of the light”

It had to remain to be seen how long Hamilton was going be out of the season. He was going through some personal issues and while you knew Silverstone was going to be your first race, you didn’t expect to have to race before that. And of fucking course your first race is Monaco. You were busy training and preparing for the course, trying your best to keep a strong head on your shoulders. There was so much pressure with you being the first female driver and Monaco being your first official race, that you began to feel nauseous. Finding the nearest bin, you excreted the contents of your stomach into it, grimacing at the bitter taste that came afterwards.

“Kiddo? Are you right?” Daniel’s thick accent interrupted you washing of your hands.

“Yeah, fine. I’m just nervous.” You washed your mouth out with the sink water and wiped it on the nearest towel.

“I get that…” Daniel looked around the paddock as you followed him with your eyes. “Hey, do ya think we can go somewhere private, to chat?”

You cautiously nodded and led him to your driver’s room, shutting the door behind you.

“What’s this about, Dan?”

Daniel awkwardly sat down on the chair and ran a hand through his curls. Making a few tiny popping sounds with his mouth he finally looked at you.

“Is there, uh, something goin’ on with you and Mick?”

“What do you mean?”

Sure, you two weren’t talking as much anymore. And you didn’t think it was that obvious, but you remained stoic trying to gauge where this conversation was headed to.

“He’s been like, really, weird.” Daniel struggled to get the words out as he scrunched up his face.

“Uh… I’m sorry that’s he’s been acting funnily, but maybe he’s going through something on his own.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Well… I mean… He’s acting like, more, sulky than usual?” Nodding along as the Aussie driver continued to list off reasons as to why and how he was more sulky, you finally stopped him before he said anything else.

“I’ll talk to him, don’t worry, Dan. I’m sure it’s nothing.” You shot him a smile and waited for him to respond.

“He loves you, you know. Like, a lot. Like more than the average man has the capacity for love.” You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose.

The last time you two had really spoken in person was when you ended up fighting. You knew he loved you. You knew he was in love with you… But he also knew that you try so hard to not allow yourself to be vulnerable like that. And maybe the relationship was physically reciprocated, Mick struggled with the fact that it was not emotionally reciprocated more than anything. You loved him, sure. He was your best friend… But the voice inside your head knew that for your own protection, you shouldn’t be allowed to love anyone… Especially Mick. You didn’t deserve him and he didn’t deserve someone who has made him wait this long for something he so desperately craved. All you could do was reiterate that you’d talk to him and try to get him to be less-sulky.

The Australian soon left the room and you were alone. Pulling out your phone, you quickly dialed Mick.

“Schätzen, is that you? Are you okay?” Mick’s tone was immediately serious as he answered the phone. You two were barely talking and now you were calling him.

“I’m fine, Mickey. I just wanted to know if you wanted to get dinner tonight.”

“Tonight?” Mick was fumbling with something on the other end. It was odd too that he didn’t immediately accept your dinner invitation.

“Is tonight not a good night for you?”

Soon, your heart dropped once again and as it lay wafting in the pit of your stomach, you could feel whatever contents were left in there if any, slowly creeping their way back up your throat.

“Who is that?” It was a woman’s voice. She was giggling. “Ugh, Mickeyyyy, hang up!!!”

Mickey.

No one else called him that except for you, in fact he made it a point to not allow it. That name was reserved for you… So you thought.

Mick mumbled something to her in French, his hand covering the microphone.

“Yeah, I could make tonight-“

“Nevermind, you’re busy and I don’t want you to give up your evening just for me.” Your tone as surprising as it was to you, was actually quite genuine. You never wanted him to feel like he couldn’t have fun.

“Smidge, I can-“

“No, seriously it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Mick continued to move around where he was, the thick accent of her Monegasque-ness peeking through the phone call.

If your German was terrible, your French was even worse. You sighed to yourself and decided to hang up the phone. He wasn’t paying attention to the conversation and you didn’t want to pay attention anymore. Rubbing your eyes, you grabbed your backpack and headed out of the paddock to your car.

There was something that had changed so quickly about your surroundings. As you reached for your keys it was if the wind was knocked out from your lungs. You slowly turned around, keys still in your hand.

How the fuck did he find you here of all places?

“Hello, daughter. Shall we have it out at your place of… work… Or is there somewhere I can knock some fucking sense into you?”

You looked around at the parking lot and by every strand of bad luck, it was seemingly empty and you two were the only ones there. You had every intention of shutting it down, right then and there, but you stood frozen in front of the man who was supposed to love you, but instead you spent your entire life picking up the pieces of the mess he made. Some of the pieces were even lost in the trauma of trying to keep your composure long enough to get where you were. Mick was always the one to lend you the broken parts that seemed to fit perfectly, just so you could have the wherewithal to start over again… And again, and again, and again…

“Did you suddenly go mute? Answer me.” You flinched in response, your back hitting your car behind you. You could just hear him calling you pathetic. You knew he was thinking it.

“I can drive us to my hotel room. Just… Just don’t make a scene, okay?”

Your father rolled his eyes as he snatched the car keys from you. With your head hung like you were a little girl in trouble again, you trudged over to the passenger’s side. You placed your backpack in the back seat and waited for your father to drive off and take you hopefully to your hotel room.

What seemed like a century later, you two were up in your hotel room. You stood on opposite ends of the living space provided.

“This is quite fancy. How can you afford it?”

“Formula One pays well, but I know you’re not here to talk about my job.” You were short with him, trying to keep your emotional and mental distance. “Why are you here, dad? I’m very busy and-“

He hastily closed the distance between you, grabbing the back of your head, clumps of hair intertwining with his knuckles. Forcing you to look up at him, his glaring and empty eyes matched his unwavering stoicism. He squinted at you, smirking.

“Pathetic. You’ve always been fucking pathetic.” Releasing your hair, your father smacked you in the face, causing you to be tossed to the ground, by brute force. He was now circling you like a vulture does a dead zebra. You didn’t dare look up at him. You remained submissive on the floor, making certain that you didn’t shed a tear.

“Where’s your boyfriend now, huh? Not coming to your fucking rescue this time?” You didn’t answer.

With a swift kick to your side you fell over on the cold floor and held your ribs in pain. Still, you did not cry.

“Answer me! I asked you a goddamn question!”

You opened your eyes to find your father towering over you still, sure as hell ready to deliver another kick to your side.

“He’s out with friends! Out with friends!” You repeated in complete fear. You could hear your father scoff and walk away from where you were.

You thought that would be the last of it, and as you began to get up there was another kick to your side. This time it was a little lower as you felt the pain radiating up and down your leg. He must’ve hit your thigh or something.

You were breathing heavily, doing all you could not to cry. After he got a good look at you, he threw your phone down at your feet. He surely shattered your screen. And fuck if it if he didn’t know what he was doing, because he did in fact kick in places you could cover up. And even so, you the blow to your face wasn’t hard enough to leave a lasting mark. Just one for the time being. Fuck.

Soon enough, you could hear the hotel room slam. You were sure you were going to get complaints from other hotel goers, because it ended up shaking the walls. With every bit of strength you had, you reached for your phone. The screen was indeed cracked, but still usable. You knew that Mick was out and occupied… Your heart cried hoping that where he was, he’d hear you and come… But you also didn’t want to bother him… You leaned up against the wall, your breathing shallow. Looking at the phone screen you dialed the only other person you could think of.

On the third ring, they answered and you resented how happy they sounded.

“Oi! Can’t get enough of me, huh?” Daniel’s accent poked through the phone as you tried to gain enough composure.

You were afraid of him seeing you like this, because you were one hundred percent sure he had no idea what abuse you’ve gone through your entire life. It was strictly need to know between you and the Schumacher’s. Releasing the pent up air in your lungs finally, you stuttered out his name.

“Wait, wait, what happened?” Daniel’s tone of voice suddenly changed as you repeated as best as you could the turn of events. You could hear him grabbing his car keys and leaving his apartment.

“I’m sorry, Dan. I’m so sorry… I’m sorry…” You were incessantly repeating, your sobbing growing louder and louder. He was trying his best to reassure you through the phone. He instructed through his own panic to stay on the phone with him until he got to you.

You obeyed as you always did.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you heard a knock on the hotel door that scared you half to death. Maybe it was your father coming back to finish what he started.

“Hey, it’s Dan. Can you let me in or are you…” Daniel’s voice trailed off into hopelessness. He didn’t want to imagine to you were so hurt you couldn’t even answer the door.

Groaning loudly, holding your side trying to support every weary step you took towards the door, finally you managed to turn the handle enough where Daniel could just push it open. You stumbled backwards as you had to find somewhere to lean up against.

Daniel’s brown eyes were immediately scanning every inch of your body, trying to decode your physical state. You were keeled over the tiny kitchen counter provided. Your shoulders rose and fell far too slowly for anybody’s liking. He saw how swollen and red your cheek had become and there was an emotion begin to bubble in his stomach and protrude through his chest that he rarely ever felt. His kind hand reached out to rub your back, being so careful that he didn’t hurt you. Daniel helped you over to the couch and sat you down. He didn’t dare say words but he knew you would tell him when you were ready.

“He found me at the track… Took my keys and made me tell him where my hotel was…”

Daniel nodded cautiously along, his eyes painstakingly wide as he did his best to take in the information.

“I didn’t have a choice… I didn’t want… Fuck…”

“Hey, it’s… Take your time.” Daniel wanted to say that it was okay, but clearly… it was definitely not. You took another deep breath.

“He just came out of nowhere and grabbed me by my hair, and started yelling at me…. Then slapped me or something… And i fell to the ground…”

Daniel gulped in absolute horror as he did his best to try and keep composure, clenching his jaw so hard he thought he might break a tooth.

“He kicked me in my ribs and in my right leg… I think… I can’t even… Remember…. Then he threw my phone at my feet and left…”

The Aussie boy next to you licked his lips in anxiety and you could see out of the corner of your eye how hard he was gripping the sofa beneath him. A familiar sight to you, as he white knuckled the cloth. Now, it was his turn to take a deep breath.

“Listen, this not your fault and I don’t want you to ever think that it is, alright?” You nodded to his words, unable to make eye contact out of shame and guilt. “I’m going to get some ice, right? It’s just down the hallway. I’m going to take the room key so you can stay here with the door locked.”

Daniel did one more visual pass over you as you slumped to the side of the couch. You were exhausted on all fronts. You knew though you couldn’t fall asleep, in case you had a concussion too. He left the room shortly and as he ventured down to where the ice machine was he was furiously dialing Mick. But to no avail, he wasn’t answering his phone.

DannyRic to MickSchu: Mick!!! Mate!!! Pick up the phone or like, come to the hotel!! She’s in a bad way, mate. And fuck, there’s only so much I can do.

DannyRic to MickSchu: I’m going to murder you mate, please pick up the phone!

Daniel shot off a few more panicked texts after those before he reached the ice machine. He figured you wouldn’t want him texting any other person either. All he could do was wait. He filled the ice bucket and practically sprinted back to your hotel room. Opening the door with the key, he announced himself so as not to scare or startle. You lifted your head and watched him get a towel to wrap the ice in so it wouldn’t burn your skin. Your eyelids felt heavy and your body broken.

If you died tonight, that would be better than anything to follow.

Daniel stuck around for a few more hours, keeping you company as he made sure you got something to eat and drank water as best as you could. He tried to also convince you to tell Toto that you couldn’t race tomorrow in free practice… But that was immediately shut down by you. Daniel didn’t want to fight that battle when there were other matters to attend to.

You could see that it was now dark out, and you had to go to sleep at some point. Sighing to yourself, you turned towards the very tired Aussie.

“I need to shower, Dan… Could you maybe, help me get, in there?”

The Australian’s brown eyes widened so much they encompassed his entire face.

“I, uh… Yeah, I can, uh, do that for you.” Daniel stuttered out as he rose to his feet.

Reaching out a hand towards you, he helped you up and over to the bathroom. He was going to kill Mick for not answering his phone. And Mick was going to kill Daniel for seeing you naked. But what other choices were there? The two of you made it into the bathroom and he motioned for you to sit on the toilet seat.

“Can you raise your arms up at all? I don’t want to have to cut your shirt.” Daniel chuckled nervously. You only nodded with a smile, lifting your arms as far as you could.

“Fuck… I forgot… Fuck…” You cowered in pain as you held your left side. “Okay, I can do it. Just, uh, if you need to stretch out the shirt to get it over my head. I don’t mind.”

He complied with his famous smile and soon your shirt was off and to the side. He could see the forming bruise on your rib cage and couldn’t imagine how much pain you were in internally. He kept his thoughts to himself as he helped you step out of your jeans. Down to your underwear and bra, the tall Aussie just stood there.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You joked. throwing a wink at him. You might as well break the tension with a joke. “But, I really think I got it from here. Thank you so much, Dan.” You placed a kiss on his cheek and as he made his way out of the bathroom, he could hear you singing to yourself before the sound of the water escaping the shower head covered your voice.

He once again took his phone out and finally saw that he had a lot of missed messages from Mick.

(14) Missed Calls from: Mick Schumacher

(29) Text Messages from: Mick Schumacher

Daniel looked through all the texts as fast as he could, but the only watch catching his eye that his friend would be over soon… And that was… About twenty minutes ago… Which means…

“Smidge! Smidge! Let me in, it’s Mick! Let me in, or I swear-“

Daniel opened the hotel door and immediately was greeted by a very distraught man. He let Mick in, and let Mick scour the hotel space like a bloodhound looking for a missing person. Mick stopped short of the shut bathroom door, as he could hear the water running.

“What happed, Daniel? Fuck! I should’ve been here, fuck, fuck, fucking fuck!” Mick didn’t allow enough time for Daniel to answer before he was practically foaming at the mouth with rage. If it weren’t a hotel room - your hotel room, Daniel was 99% Mick would’ve started to punch the walls.

“Mate, mate, calm down. I can’t talk to you when you’re like, all mad.”

“She even asked me to come out to dinner tonight, and if I just had fucking said yes - God fucking dammit!” Mick didn’t know what to do with his body with the amount of pure, unadulterated fury riddled his body. “I’m so fucking stupid! Ich bin so ein Idiot (I’m such an idiot)!”

Mick continued to yell in German. Daniel could barely speak proper English, so he had no idea what he was saying. The rant was cut off though by the sound of the shower turning off in the distance. Mick took one deep breath and breathed out through his nose.

“Thank you, Daniel… For being there for her.”

Daniel put a supportive hand on his shoulder. Giving it a good squeeze, the two boys said goodbye to each other. Mick made Daniel promised not to tell a soul. And for the first time in his life, Daniel knew he was going to take this promise to the grave.

Mick gained some more self control and pushed the bedroom door open slightly. Giving it a small knock, his voice immediately made you perk up where you were.

“Kann ich den Raum betreten (Can I enter the room)?”

Still wrapped in a towel, you slowly made your way to the ajar door.

“Bist du anständig (Are you decent)?”

“No, but come in anyway, please.”

Mick opened the door further and saw that you were sat on the edge of the bed. The towel hugged you tightly, but he noticed you were gripping it as if it were going to fly away from your body. He rushed to your side and took you into his arms. He could tell you had been crying despite the shower. He didn’t even notice the tiny bruise forming on your face before immersing you into his embrace. Shortly after some time spent in his arms, you peeled away and finally made eye contact.

Mick’s hand went to your bruised cheek, his thumb just above hovering the swelled skin. Your dad had never hit you in your face before, he always was so careful. Mick couldn’t help but stifle back some tears, his previous selfishness clouding his racing thoughts.

“I need help getting dressed for bed, Mick.”

He knew what that meant. He knew exactly what that meant, in fact. But without another word, he kissed your forehead and got up to go over to your suitcase. He took out some underwear and a t shirt. Carefully, he helped you step into your underwear, looking away when you needed to adjust the elastic. The air caught in your chest again as you tried to calm yourself. Mick hummed comfortingly and allowed you to take all the time you needed. Your hand was shaking as you began to take off the towel. You didn’t care about him seeing your chest, no. He’s already seen it. You were not wanting him to see how bruised your torso was and how big of a bruise there was on your thigh. But you had to, and so you did.

Mick couldn’t find the words. He looked down at your bruising body, his lips beginning to tremble. He was shaking his head unable to believe that because of his own stupidity, your body was again bruised and broken.

He helped you put a short on and helped you climb into bed. You just wanted to sleep and dream about a better day tomorrow. Mick made sure you were comfortable before going to turn off all the lights and making sure the hotel door was locked and dead-bolted. He made his way back to you and crawled into the bed with you. Your body was too sore to move around much, so Mick just went where you needed him to be. Soon after you tucked underneath his arm, he could hear you steadily breathing, the warmth and security of his body making you for the first time today feel human again.

“I’m so sorry, Schätzen. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t here…” Mick whispered into the air, not knowing if you were asleep or not. He knew he wasn’t going to get much sleep either. He wanted to stay awake as long as possible just in case your father decided to come back.

“It’s fine, Mickey… Let’s just… Go to sleep…” Your voice was filled with fatigue as you began to doze off into unconsciousness. Mick pulled you closer into his body.

The emotionally sapped German boy who you adored so much was laid there contemplating whether or not he deserved to be there beside you. If anything, Daniel would be the one that deserves this spot. He was there… He came when you called… He was everything Mick promised to be for you, but in failing to do so, Mick just stared at the ceiling frozen in regret. He could feel some tears falling down his face, wiping them quickly with his free hand. Mick took a deep breath once more and suddenly, his mind was made up. He had one goal in life now. He didn’t care about race car driving, or sponsorships… Hell, he didn’t even care about anything else at this point. Mick Schumacher vowed to himself that he would never allow anything else to happen to you from then on and out until the day he died. He knew it, you probably knew it even as you slept on his chest… There was one goal he had now.

Mick Schumacher was going to find your father and make him pay.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

TL;DR: This chapter depicts phases of reader's life as she navigates hiding the abuse she suffers from her best friend. He finds out and he vows to never allow her to be hurt again. There are emotional and romantic boundaries crossed in this chapter too, but nothing too explicit - Just the allusion to reader and Mick having sex. The last part is written for the current day. Reader's abusive father finds her after training and again physically abuses her. Daniel Ricciardo comes to her rescue as they both await Mick to arrive.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

https://www.helpguide.org/find-help

https://nomoredirectory.org/

https://victimconnect.org/resources/national-hotlines/

https://www.domesticshelters.org/resources/national-global-organizations/international-organizations

https://www.therapyroute.com/article/helplines-suicide-hotlines-and-crisis-lines-from-around-the-world

These are some helpful links I found while searching the internet. Please do not hesitate to reach out for help for yourself or anyone you may know is involved in a violent and abusive situation.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #mick schumacher #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #shiver fanfic #mick schumacher x reader #platonic!daniel ricciardo x reader #angst #hurt/comfort #abuse tw #abuse mention

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

Note

Am I the asshole for refusing to lend a friend money? 🐱🐱🐱🐱<- (for finding later)

I (28nb) have a friend (28m) who has recently had some problems with employment. He lost his job but has since found another. He is in a living situation with his fianceé where he pays half the rent.

Today he sent me a message asking, very politely, if he could have $59 dollars to cover his half of their rent. He made it clear in his request that he had not discussed this with his fianceé yet.

I said no - one reason being we recently totalled our car and depleted our savings putting money down on a new one (and those interest rates....still ouch), the other being that we've lent almost 1000k to a different friend of ours over the last two years, and haven't been paid back despite multiple verbal agreements.

We are a two income household making a combined 100k a year, but the majority of our income is spent on rent and our student loans. I feel bad because it seems surface level, $59 dollars isn't really that much of an ask. But looking at our broad finances, we're more in-debt to the institutions our loans are paid to than our actual income. We do, however, live comfortably and are privlidged enough to save some money most months. We do donate to causes, and have in the past given our friends places to stay for months at a time when they have no where to go / are in bad financial situations.

When this friend lost his job, I did help him by brainstorming with him on jobs he could do that would suit his sensory needs, and didn't involve customer service. I did research on multiple places close to him that would also suit his transportation limitations and pay him well while accentuating his skillset, and compiled links to the job listings. He has since been hired and onboarded at one of those jobs; he's a very sweet, genuine individual and I'm truly happy because I was also supporting him emotionally during this time and could see how hard this situation was on his mental and physical health.

The other reason I said no was this - he is getting married in one week from the time I'm sending this in. He made it clear in his message he had not talked yet about how he was short for rent with his fianceé. They live together, and go half on rent. I felt very concerned that he was bringing this to me first, and not to his soon-to-be-wife, who deserves financial transparency from her partner (as do we all). I don't think he ever intended to not tell her, but in my opinion money-matters should always be discussed with your significant other first in a healthy relationship.

I discussed this with my wife and she agreed. I told him we couldn't lend him the money and he said he understood. I also encouraged him to talk to his fianceé because she's his best friend and support. I didn't include my p-o-v that he should discuss money matters with her first and foremost because of their relationship and housing arrangement, because I'm hoping that's a conversation they can have in the immediacy?

But I still feel like an asshole and I'm not sure if it's because I said "No," because I have provided financial / housing assistance in the past to others and didn't this time, or because I actually am an asshole.

So - what do you think?

TL;DR - A soon-to-be-married, recently unemployed and then re-employed friend asked for $59 to cover rent. I have helped other friends in the past with rent and housing but said no because we can't afford it right now (which is true, despite being dual income) and also he hasn't discussed being short on rent with his finaceé / housemate yet.

#aita #am i the asshole

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wixhing0nastar · 2 years

Text

Abuse Narratives in RWBY: Yang Xiao Long Edition (Feat. Ruby Rose)

We've all witnessed and talked about Blake and Weiss being abuse survivors for years. Blake escaping from Adam and Weiss escaping from her father were both huge, impactful events that have shaped the narrative of the story in many ways.

Yang on the other hand has managed to fly mostly under the radar with the abuse she's suffered up to this point. Her jokey, happy-go-lucky facade tricking the audience just as well as it has her friends and family for years.

(Note: this is going to be a long post, so strap in. Also this is your warning I am not going to be holding back in my criticism of Tai, so if you don't want to see me go into detail about how exactly he abused Yang, I highly suggest turning back now).

TL:DR: Yang was neglected and parentified (aka: abused) as a child and that’s the root of a lot of the issues that she’s currently struggling with in Volume 9 and a large part of her healing is going to be centered around her relationship with Blake going forward.

Let's start by establishing what exactly I'm referring to when I say that Yang has been abused. Because while I'm certainly referring to her being neglected after Summer's death, I'm more so referring to the years of Parentification that was caused by said neglect (in addition to the verbal and emotional abuse hurled her way).

Let's start by defining what exactly Parentification is since it's where most of Yang's current problems stem from.

[Parentification is] a disturbance in the generational boundaries, such that evidence indicates a functional and/or emotional role reversal in which the child sacrifices his or her own needs for attention, comfort, and guidance in order to accommodate and care for the logistical and emotional needs of a parent and/or sibling. (Hooper, 2007b, p. 323)

Ruby establishes in Volume 9, Chapter 1 that Yang was the one who raised her. It's important to note that in the context of her saying that, she's telling Yang that Yang was the one responsible for her moral development as a kid.

Research has shown that the building blocks for morality are generally in place by the age of 4. However, "children need adults to help them at every stage of childhood to nurture these seeds into full development." (Harvard, Raising Caring, Respectful, Ethical Children, p. 1) With "childhood" commonly considered infancy to age 12.

Using this we can reasonably assume that Yang was Ruby's primary caretaker or at the very least co-parenting with Tai from the time of Summer's death to at least age 14 (when Ruby was 12)... which mind you, is already over a decade total and only three years before the show starts.

Now that we've got some of the science out of the way, let's start looking at the show itself to see just how bad the situation was.

Burning the Candle

This iconic scene actually paints a fairly horrifying picture of Yang and Ruby's early childhood when you start to break it down.

I waited for dad to leave the house.

Meaning that by that point, probably only a few months after Summer's death based on the timeline Yang establishes, Yang already knows Tai will reliably leave her and Ruby alone without supervision for extended periods of time in order to pull this off.

I must have walked for hours.

Meaning that it likely took several hours for someone to even notice they were missing in the first place. The fact Qrow knew exactly where they were indicates that Yang either left a note or clue about where they were headed and I'm willing to bet the only reason it took Yang that long to walk was because she was like two feet tall at the time (since Patch is like... a tiny island... which brings me to the next line...

A toddler asleep in the back of a wagon

Again, to clarify, Ruby was a toddler. Toddlers are between 1-3 years old... meaning this all happened when Yang was a maximum of (and likely, based on their physical appearances) 5 years old.

So to summarize, Tai was regularly leaving Yang, his five-year-old, home alone and in charge of her three-year-old sister... which would be horrifying to think about on its own but this is Remnant.

Which means that Tai was regularly leaving his grieving five-year-old at home alone when they didn't live inside a kingdom's border and there were known wild Grimm in the area... who are attracted to negative emotions.

Wow... I wonder why Yang felt the need to try to diffuse the tension with humor and keep everyone in high spirits all the time. It’s almost like it was a life or death situation growing up. (/s)

Anger, Fear, and Burn

Before jumping into the next big narrative piece, let’s talk a little bit about Yang’s semblance, Burn, and how it works. Because it’s important to establish before starting to dig into Volume 4.

Let’s start with how Ruby describes it:

Don't worry! With each hit she gets stronger, and she uses that energy to fight back! That's what makes her special.

Notice how Ruby doesn't mention anything about Yang needing to be angry to use her Semblance? In fact, while it’s unclear if this is entirely true, it has been stated previously that Yang’s powers come in part from her hair and no one has refuted that claim in like 8 years so it holds some weight.

Moreover, recent volumes have actually been hinting that Yang likely doesn't even need to use her anger to activate/maintain burn. And that she just does so out of habit more than anything.

Now, why exactly would someone intentionally limit themselves by tying their semblance into in emotion like that? Well, first let’s answer the question, why anger?

And well... anger is a secondary emotion.

A secondary emotion is an emotion fueled by other emotions... masking your feelings of sadness, hurt or grief with anger can be easier than experiencing the primary emotion.

And moreover,

The feelings that anger commonly masks include fear, anxiety, guilt, shame, embarrassment, betrayal, jealousy, sadness, hurt, and worry. (Alta Loma, Understanding Anger as a Secondary Emotion, Web, emphasis added).

Fear is, of course, a bit of a running theme in RWBY, there was a whole speech and song about it at the end of Volume 7, after all.

But more than that, there've been two people on two separate occasions who've called Yang out for being scared when she's posturing: Ren and Raven.

And while Ren was pointing out that she uses humor to try to deflect when she’s scared, when Raven said this to Yang she was absolutely outwardly angry... and Yang admits to being scared in the moment yet still standing there.

Also note that humor = friends/winning, anger = enemies/losing.

Which makes you wonder, what was happening growing up that made Yang instinctively react to fear of danger with anger and planting her feet instead of running away? For that let's go back to what we learned from Burning the Candle and the V5 short real quick.

We know there are living Grimm on Patch. Maybe not as many as elsewhere, but both times we are given glimpses into Yang and Ruby's childhood on Patch they are attacked by Grimm, which isn't a great sign.

How old do you think Yang was the first time she or Ruby had a bad day and attracted one of them on accident and she had to fight it off on her own (because she couldn't run, she had to protect Ruby)?

How many nights do you think Yang would spend reading Ruby stories and telling her dumb jokes to get her to laugh to try to make sure they weren't attacked? How often did Ruby have to force herself to be okay? For both their sake?

Volume 4

Now let's talk about Volume 4, aka: when Tai had the chance to step up and didn't.

Now right off the bat he's okay. There's nothing inherently wrong with him bringing her the arm and being excited at the thought because he doesn't know how she's going to react to it though it is a little weird he opened her mail without permission.

The rest of Yang's first V4 episode, however, makes it very clear both to us as the audience and Tai that Yang isn't doing okay... but Tai doesn't do anything to attempt to help her.

Which is why what happens in the next episode is kinda messed up.

Yang wakes up from a nightmare about losing her arm in a seriously traumatizing event and goes downstairs when she realizes there's a distraction people are over.

Then we get the fight and despite Yang laughing it off in the end... honestly Tai is being very condescending towards her, which Yang even points out. Like, someone made a slightly adult joke in front of her and he flies off the handle and starts a fight with her and starts making digs about her not being a real adult ready for the real world and let's just break that down before dealing with the actual problems in this episode.

Yang, as established, has been fulfilling the role of parent (while barely getting any parenting herself) for years. She's been fulfilling the role of an adult since she was 5! And at this point in the show she's also legally an adult. So not only is it condescending, it's also untrue.

Then we get this line.

I guess you lost some brain cells along with that arm.

Not only is this beyond callus, Yang is clearly actually upset by this.

And notably, she only treats it as a joke after Oobleck dropped his cup. AKA: after being reminded that they aren’t alone in the room.

(And remember, Yang uses humor as a coping mechanism).

And both Oobleck and Port can clearly tell that this wasn’t appropriate at all and immediately following that, they pointedly step in to ask Yang how she is doing with everything.

Which Tai has not done.

And Yang opens up to them! And she tells them that she’s still struggling and coming to terms with what happened to her. Which in turn causes Tai to finally talk to her about it, but he’s being pushy about her getting back out and “being her new normal” and even refers to her PTSD as moping when she just got done saying she’s still trying to process and recover.

And it’s again Port specifically who steps in and gives her some genuine advice without trying to push her her into anything she’s not ready for and then Oobleck joins in and they go out if their way to ham it up to make her laugh.

So overall, Tai’s being extremely dismissive of the trauma that she’s gone through and minimizing her feelings at every turn.

Which then leads to this scene...

Which is when Tai’s dismissiveness starts to make sense (and I’ll come back to this when I’m analyzing the last episode).

Let’s break it down. To start, Tai knows that Yang is going up to her room, they pointedly have her call out goodnight from upstairs so Tai knows where she is physically and what her intentions are.

Secondly, there’s no way that Tai doesn't know you can hear people talking from the front door from Yang’s room. He’s owned this house for like two decades minimum at this point.

So when Oobleck and Port ask after Ruby, there’s no way he should assume Yang won’t be able to hear everything he says. And he very much lays the burden of Ruby’s safety at Yang’s feet. He’s not going after her because he has to “look after some things.”

AKA: Yang.

And then she comes to him literally the next day wearing the new arm and wanting to train and he doesn't question her at all, even though 12 hours earlier Yang was very much not ready?

We then don’t see her at all for five episodes until we get the scene where she’s training with Tai and honestly, his advice is kinda horrible.

To start, even he says his advice is based on watching her Vytal Festival fights, meaning that everything is based on watching three matches.

He points out she uses her semblance to win every fight after the qualifiers (which is true), and Yang rightly points out that everyone uses their semblances to help them win. Then Tai says this:

Because not everyone else’s is basically a temper tantrum.

Not only is this very unlikely to be true, but even if Yang does need to rely on her anger to activate her semblance, calling it a temper tantrum isn’t accurate at all.

In fact, the way Yang uses her semblance takes a great deal of emotional regulation to pull off. She not only is able to make herself angry enough to use it at will, she’s also able to stop using it at will. Meaning Yang is capable of instantaneously switching from one emotion to another.

That’s not a temper tantrum, that’s someone with superb emotional control choosing what emotion to feel when it’s most appropriate.

Furthermore, the “what happens if you miss” comment is so ridiculous I don’t even know how to start other than saying we literally saw exactly what happens when Yang misses her first attempt in Volume 2! When her semblance is being revealed! And the answer is... she gets another shot.

And if they’re stronger... like not using the thing that makes her ridiculously powerful is certainly not going to help.

And honestly... Yang doesn’t do what Tai says. He says it’s useful in a bind but Yang doesn’t use her semblance only in emergencies from here on end. In fact, what she actually does is pick up some tricks from Pyrrha and she starts hiding her semblance from people!

And noticeably, Tai isn’t the one who tells Yang to fight smarter. That’s a line of thinking she develops on her own between the first and second times she faced Adam.

And then Tai takes credit for her “suddenly” getting better like she hadn’t successfully hit him so hard he needed to take a pause and the fight he did win was only because he attacked her when she was being vulnerable with him... her father who she’s of course not going to assume is going to attack her while she’s opening up to him... because she wouldn’t do that to Ruby.

And then we get to Yang’s last (real) episode of the volume when she’s setting out to get Ruby. Remember when I said Tai’s dismissiveness started to make sense and we’d come back to it? Well we’re back to it.

Note how Yang pointedly doesn’t tell Tai that she’s leaving, despite him having indicated to Port and Oobleck that the only reason he wasn’t also going after Ruby was because he was staying with Yang?

And how in the end he doesn’t leave with Yang to go find Ruby even though supposedly the only reason he hadn’t was because he wanted to make sure Yang was okay? And now Yang’s going after Ruby? Alone?

Paired with how pushy and condescending he was acting towards her in the other two Volume 4 episodes he was in, on top of having neglected and parentified her for at least a decade, this really reads as him wanting Yang to get better so he can shove her out the door to go after Ruby, and not him caring at all about her as a person.

(Which is why I really struggle to feel bad for him in his V8 scene... if he was so worried he could have been there).

Yang’s Actual Temper Tantrums

Let’s address these really quick before moving on to the final section. We’ve actually seen/heard of four different instances where Yang actually was having something resembling a temper tantrum while using her semblance.

I’m going to start with the Neon fight because it’s the easiest. But Neon as a character relies on knocking her opponents off balance by getting under their skin in a fight. She tries to make them angry and yes, it does work on Yang in this instance. But that’s Neon’s whole thing, in any other match up Yang would have been fine.

The other three times all had to do with her hair (namely, when Junior gets her hair in her trailer, when the ursa gets her hair in the Emerald Forest and... in V4 when Tai refers to her having a rough first haircut).

Going back to the bit about how Yang’s powers, in part, come from her hair and this actually makes a lot of sense in the context of Yang’s childhood. If she was regularly in charge of protecting Ruby and some of the finite power she did have as a kid was because of her hair, of course she gets freaked out by losing some... and we’ve already talked about Yang using anger as a mask for fear.

Bumbleby and Volume 9

So let’s talk about where we’re going now, because of all three of the abuse survivors in this show, Yang is the only one who hasn’t really been confronted with and forced to deal with it yet.

Because at the end of the day, being parentified and neglected for years has left Yang scared to open up emotionally and more than that, uncertain of her identity outside of being Ruby’s parent.

Because up to going to Beacon, that was basically Yang’s entire life. It’s entirely possible the only reason she went to Signal was to learn how to protect Ruby better all things considered.

Which is why the development between her and Blake is so important this volume. Yang desperately needs to be valued as something other a caretaker and protector and so far they’ve been emphasizing the fact that Blake loves Yang because she’s a goofy dork who makes her smile, not because she’s strong enough to level a mountain.

And while Blake’s relationship with Adam was abusive, unlike Yang, Blake does have a framework for health relationships thanks to Ghira and Kali and she’s worked through her own trauma from being abused romantically enough that she’s in a place emotionally to help Yang start working though hers. Starting by giving Yang a person she can trust not to leave who also isn’t and has never been dependent on her to muck up Yang’s healing process.

Because there’s a difference between someone choosing to stay and someone not having any other choice because they were/are dependent on you. And (absolutely no shade to Ruby here) she’s already had someone in the latter position choose to leave her anyways.

In Conclusion

Yang was abused as a child and into her late teens and is in desperate need of some type of unconditional love and affection that she doesn’t feel there are strings attached to in order to finally begin healing...

And therapy, but they’re a little low on that for the foreseeable future.

#RWBY #RWBY Spoilers #RWBY Analysis #Yang Xiao Long #Bumbleby #When I say long I’m not joking #This is more than 3k words

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pdflayn · 7 months

Text

REPEAT AFTER ME

charles leclerc x max verstappen

650 words

summary: based on this req wherein max comforts charles after a bad race day in Bahrain for the Monegasque. warnings: no warnings, just cute lestappen agenda, somewhat based on that cute fan art of lestappen where max comforts charles that spread all over twitter and tiktok. note: fluff is not my forte, i tried my very best to make it interesting.

The Bahrain Grand Prix had just ended with Max winning the first race of the season. The crowd went wild once again for him as he stood on the podium holding his trophy. But it wasn’t the same for Charles who’s just finished his media duties as he sat down in the garage of Ferrari. He watched his rival along with his teammate celebrate their podium and he would just kid himself if he didn’t admit that he feels mad at himself even when he knows he did his best. He did his best for sure, despite having troubles with the car he still managed to get P4. But it wasn’t enough.

After a long week of work, Charles fixed himself and packed his things to get ready and go back to the hotel. He only has enough time to sleep before flying again to prepare for another race.

“Charles,” a familiar voice called him. “Hey, mate. Congrats on P4.” Max said with all smiles as Charles turned around to face him.

“Idiot, you shouldn’t be here. This isn’t RBR’s garage.” Charles joked as he took his bag. He thought Max would already go because that’s what he usually does. After he congratulates Charles he would leave already due to media duties or he would just instantly go back to his room already. Max stayed in his spot, standing there with a look the monegasque couldn’t explain.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Charles asked, curiosity evident in his tone. The dutch took a look around and when he was sure that no one was there to see him, he walked inside and sat down. “Sit with me, Charlie.”

Charles obliged to Max’s request and sat down beside him and placed his bag down once again.

“I did my best in that race, I am proud of the efforts I did, I am a great driver, and I deserve the recognition I get. Repeat my words.” Charles looked at Max with a puzzled look meanwhile Max looked at him with a sincere but not intimidating look. For what it’s worth, it actually calmed the raging nerves Charles had.

“Repeat after me, Charlie.” Max smiled, “I did my best in that race.”

“I didn’t-”

“I did my best in that race.” Max said as he cut Charles’ words.

Charles sighed, “I did my best in that race.”

Max frowned. He stood up and kneeled in front of Charles, leveling to him, which made the monegasque gasp and even more confused to what Max is trying to do.

“What are you- Max, stand up. Are you crazy?”

“It’s not your fault Charlie. Now, repeat after me, okay?” Max stopped and waited for a reply from Charles, whether it was verbal or physical. When Charles nodded after a very deep sigh, Max flashed his bright smile, which he only shows to Charles, his childhood best friend who is also his rival.

“Repeat after me, I did my best in that race.”

“I did my best in that race.”

“I am proud of the efforts I did.”

“I am a great driver.”

“Max, this is silly-”

“I am a great driver. Say it like you mean it, Charlie. Come on, now.”

“Max-’

“Please?”

“I am a great driver.” Max smiled like a kid, his smile reaching his ears. He finally stood up again, looking down at Charles before deciding to ruin his helmet hair even more. “See? That’s more like it.”

“Chin up now, okay? It wasn’t your fault and you deserve just as much recognition as you are receiving right now. For what it’s worth, you’re literally the best driver in the grid. You come second because everyone knows I come first.” Max laughed at his own joke.

“Fuck you, mate.”

“Cheer up now, yeah? I’ll be going now, someone might see me here.”

#layn archive !#formula 1 fic #charles leclerc #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen fic #lestappen #lestappen fic #fluff #f1 fluff #formula 1 fluff #charles leclerc fluff #max verstappen fluff #cl16 #mv1

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purplelupins · 1 year

Text

Happy Together

Part I Part Il Part III

The Black Phone

Albert Shaw × Fem!reader

Summary: Nothing like a new city. You just wanted a fresh start, and something comfortable, but what happens when you start to see the exact same patterns in Denver as you did before?

Warnings: the following warning are for the full fic, and not just this first chapter. PLEASE READ THEM. This is a DARK fic.

Dub-con (note that this is a kink so it is actually wanted), Daddy kink, size kink, pet names (princess, kiddo, sweetheart, honey and more) mentions of death (including murder, torture etc), cumming in pants, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (f and m) begging, breeding kink, innocence kink, biting, adultery, infidelity, stalking, mentions of kidnapping, home break-in, fighting (verbal and physical)...more will be added.

Note: this is a commissioned piece for @mandowifey 🤍🤍

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

It’s often perceived as a cliche when someone claims that time stood still for them at a certain moment, but there cannot be a cliche without some truth. Indeed, neither you nor Albert moved an inch for what very well could have been an hour or a mere five seconds.

Your eyes were fused to one another’s.

Locked in a dare to see who would act first.

With adrenaline practically replacing your blood, you moved your hand to your outer thigh faster than ever to grasp the long blade strapped there. However, you weren’t fast enough. Al’s hand found the back of your head and gripped your hair; he yanked your head back in an attempt to knock you off balance, while you found the handle of your knife. Your scalp screamed at you but you paid it no mind.

Acting on the rush coursing through you and the excitement of Albert’s equal fight, you brought your foot up and hit him square in the diaphragm. In the back of your consciousness, you could head Samson barking from another room, but you couldn’t focus on that. His grip loosened on you just enough as he coughed, and you took the opportunity to lunge at him; you managed a solid punch to his injured cheek- knocking him back in his chair, and landed square in his lap. You heard him hiss, but wasted no time in raising your weapon to his neck and smiling wickedly.

Gotcha.

“You know, Mr. Shaw, I’d prefer it if you bought me dinner before you go pulling on my hair like that.” You moped, sticking your lip out like a child just to toy with the temper you saw flaring behind those dead eyes of his. So pretty.

“You viscous little-“ he started, but you had no reason to show mercy, so you pressed your blade a little more into that vein in his neck that pulsed so beautifully.

I bet it would look just delicious with blood pouring from it…

A shiver went down your spine at how pretty he would look with more blood on him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He snapped, eyes ablaze.

You blinked slowly. It was as if his words had to filter in through your brain as you came back from being lost in thought. “I prefer princess, too. Not much of one for name calling.” You tilted your head to the side, eyeing the cut that reopened on his face thanks to you. “Red suits you…” you added, remembering his comment about how blue suited you that day in the diner.

“What do you want?” He rasped, hand still firmly in your hair. Not that it mattered- hell you barely noticed it anymore, it was more comforting now.

“Me?” You thought for a moment to add a little drama, “Oh you guessed most of it…just want a nice man to call my own. Not so bad, hm?” You smiled. “I’m not that unreasonable am I?”

Albert shifted under you, and swallowed against the blade. “And what…you kill along the way?” He asked.

You shrugged like he had only gotten the answer partially correct. “Well…adulterous behaviour needs to be stopped before it starts , you know. Someone needs to suss out the men who don’t deserve all those pretty wives…happily married or not, so why not me?” You scrapped the blade down the stubble on his neck, “Besides, it’s a bonus if they’re desperate enough. Can get a good fuck in before I-“

Your guard had dropped just enough for Al to yank your hair again and grab the arm with the blade that had been poking into him, but not enough for him to get the upper hand. You fought against his vice-like grip on your wrist, huffing out little laughs here and there. He was far stronger than any of the other men you usually engaged with, especially men his age.

You went to use your free hand to deliver another knock to his injury, but it seemed Albert already knew what you had planned before you did. His hand caught your arm a mere centimetre from his cheek, and a smirk pulled at his handsome face. You, however, managed to twist said arm from his remarkably tight grasp with a sharp jab to his collarbone with your elbow. With you momentarily distracted by the small victory, Albert was quick to slam your head into the wall beside you.

Stars sparked before your eyes for a few moments.

A maniacal laugh bubbled up from your chest when you bounced back- barely deterred. If anything the knock had given you a jump in energy. Seeing Al’s bewildered, bloody face from your resilience was possibly the best thing you’d seen all year.

Albert could feel his blood growing hotter with each second as his frustration took over.

How the fuck is she so strong?

Neither of you moved for three seconds until realization set in, but when it did indeed kick in, it hit you first. This time, you weren’t playing nice. Before he could grab you again, you wrapped your arms around his neck, and dug the tip of your knife into the base of his skull; the tip was already making a small incision.

“That wasn’t very nice.” You pouted again, “I was just trying to talk-“

“Cut this bullshit out kiddo.” He snapped, shifting his hips as you pinned him to the chair in your new position, “I’m not your demographic, you know that. So what. Do. You. Want?” He growled out, his breath fanning across your face.

You could feel your skin start to buzz the more Al spoke to you; he was smarter than you had anticipated. Observant, analytical, calculated… it all made you warm.

“About that, you seem to know what I like…so what do you like?” You grinned evilly. It seemed only fair that you poke as just many of his buttons, “Although, I think I might have an idea…Please tell me you’re him.”

“Who?” He rasped out- his face had lost most expression long ago. It was lax and deadened now, but his stoic default made you squirm.

“The one they’re all talking about…the one your own brother never shuts up about over there.” You tilted your head to the bulletin board, “The little boy grabber.”

Al’s eye twitched.

“That’s not-“

“Alright, The Grabber.” You said dramatically, smiling in his face.

As Samson continued to howl and bark from Al’s room, the older man showed no signs of distress or discomfort if he was feeling either. Although, you didn’t miss the fact that he was likely growing tired…it wasn’t exactly an optimal time to be awake and he was far from a youthful man. You, however, were in no rush.

“Samson, down!” Albert called out gruffly, followed by silence. Finally after a few minutes of contemplation on his part, Albert sighed,“Yea, they call me that…” he said, running his tongue along one of his canines.

Your eyes lit up and you wiggled with excitement; in doing so, you inadvertently came closer to Albert’s front, which you paid no mind but he cast his eyes away in a last effort to see an escape- or so you assumed.

“No fucking wonder you punched a hole in the wall! How can you listen to him go on about you?” You felt your heart rate pick up, “So what, you like little boys? That’s your thing? What do you do with them? Are they stuffed in your walls? Is it a sexual thing?” Your rapid-fire interrogation began to set Al on edge and you knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped. But sadly for you, Al knew that this was exactly what you wanted.

So instead of snapping at you, he risked getting cut. Albert whipped on of his hands up, and grabbed your cheeks in one hand, squeezing hard as your blade drove into the back of his neck, “You talk too much, kid.” He hissed as blood began to trickle down his spine, but didn’t account for having his hand close to your mouth.

You jerked out of his grasp and sunk your teeth into his hand, and pressed your blade harshly against the cut already made. The two of you both snarled and panted at one another like wild animals, until you finally released his hand; a very noticeable bite mark left behind that he would have to explain everywhere you went. You were delighted.

Watching his pupils expand and contract was hypnotic as he tried to gain control over his rage. You inhaled and sighed out, leaning a little closer. “You’re fun.”

Albert had put you on your tippiest of toes, and you found yourself hoping it would happen again. As if to prove your point, you rolled your hips against him, and gasped when you felt his hardening length twitch. You tsked him and did it again, “What’s this? Grandpa can get hard? What is it? Being over powered by a young woman? The knife? Ooh is that your thing? You get off on being dominated?” You mocked him.

As a smile over took your rosy cheeks, Albert gave into impulse and smacked his forehead into yours with a crack.

“Shut that mouth of yours before I make you shut it again, princess.” He rasped, those sharp crooked teeth of his exposed as his lips pulled thin. But you didn’t miss how his voice seemed to be a little more breathless, nor how you had to resist the urge to draw blood from his lip with your teeth. Your ears still rung from the impact but it only made your need to taunt him further.

“You’re just a filthy old man aren’t you, Mr. Shaw?” You rubbed more deliberately against him and your grin deepened when you felt his hips rock against you despite his stern features.

“I think you need to understand that you’re not the only big shot here in Denver any more…but you knew that as soon as you looked at me didn’t you?” You cooed, dragging the cool blade down his back. “Did you like it?” You breathed.

“What?” He barked, shifting under you.

You rolled your eyes.

“The sweet, scared neighbour! I do love playing the part…” you preened.

He huffed out a laugh.

“You’re a horrible actress.”

“I had you fooled…even if it was just for a few weeks.” You winked, “So sad it’s ending now though…”

You dragged your knife up to his collarbone and pressed, flicking your eyes to his. Soulless meeting soulless.

Daring each other to make the next move.

Then he snapped.

Albert let you cut him as he grabbed your throat and slammed you back against the table. Adrenaline gripped you and you were about to bring your knee into his ribs when the front door opened violently. Both of you whipped your heads towards the sound, and were greeted with the untimely entrance of a distraught Max- his eyes red and shoulders drooping to the ground.

You both froze.

“God Al I’m sorry…” Max started, hands over his face as his emotions took over. Al and you silently released each other, keeping your eyes trained each other lest the other decide to toss caution into the wind, “Shit, I just- you know how I get and I-“ Max seemed to have not even noticed you and Albert in the middle of a life or death fight in the kitchen.

He began rambling on about how he would fix the wall and calm down about his conspiracies, all the while you were still locked eyes with the older man ready to snap your neck. You almost dared him to- you’d love to stare into those baby blues as your life faded. But when Albert didn’t move, and in fact seemed to silently tell you to not even think about doing something, you knew the game was over for the night, and took that as your sign to leave. You retracted your blade, and pushed up and off of his warm lap. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth when you saw the bulge against the leg of his jeans. It was in your best interest to run out the door, and you did; however, not before licking his bottom lip, leaving a string of saliva between you. Albert stared up at you- that thick crease still between his brows that made you want to melt. You smiled at how stern his face was in contrast to clearly how much he had enjoyed the fight…whether he knew it or not.

You were out the door and back home before Max even noticed. The only thing signalling your leave was Samson’s three barks.

Once you shut your front door, you could finally take inventory of your body. Head spinning; muscles aching; heart pounding. But you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a soft, exhausted laugh as your head fell back against the door. Sweat covered you, and you decided upon a shower as if you had t just stared death in the face and licked its lip. However, when you cast one more look outside your front window, you were met with the same gaze you had just ran from. Albert stood in his living room, Max still pacing behind him, staring unashamedly at his young little neighbour like she hadn’t just given him the best fight of his life.

It was as if you had both just started a game of cat and mouse, but neither of you knew which was the predator and which was the prey.

That night had changed everything. Your smile was sharper and your every step had a spring in it, just in case it was your last. Contrary to what most people would assume, everyday you awoke a little disappointed that you were in your bed with no middle aged man watching you, or evidence of someone snooping through your home. You admittedly wished he would try to frighten you, or actually act on the impulses you knew he felt.

Now when you saw Albert, the waves you exchanged seemed to hold a promise in them; what that exact promise was, however, had yet to be fully decided. A promise of one of you getting to the other…a promise of an eventual understanding…a promise of combined forces…you didn’t know.

What you did know, however, was that you hadn’t felt so giddy in a very long time. Certainly playing the part of a new girl in town was enjoyable while it had lasted and you now had to move on from it at least for Al, but knowing that someone out there knew your secret while harbouring their own made you dizzy with excitement. This was what had you bouncing everyday.

It was a game you had never played.

If you were honest, you were beyond ecstatic to play this particular game with Albert Shaw. There was something so exhilarating about toying with a man as striking as he, and you craved that cold gaze nearly every waking moment.

You wanted to see him angry.

Scared.

Amused.

Frustrated.

Blood thirsty.

He had confirmed your thoughts regarding him without any prompting, and you wondered what else he might confide in you. You wondered why he did what he did…where he did it.

When?

How?

Why now?

Had he killed for his entire life or was this some midlife crisis he wanted to test out while he was still in good shape? Was he remorseful? Merciful? Did Max really not know? Did he have a tag line? Was he inspired by anyone?

Your mind spun like a washing machine; it all came back to the same question.

Who the fuck was Albert Shaw?

Of course, Albert had the exact same question for you.

Who was this little hellion that had unceremoniously nestled into his perfect little life? How long had it taken for him to build that basement into the perfect cell; to establish a routine that the watchful eyes of the neighbourhood would know; to make himself seem like a simple, unsuspecting man of Denver who is just a quiet, nice man? How long? Years. Fucking years. Then within a matter of months, this little wretch had come along and all but shattered it.

Albert had watched you when you dashed back to your house. Well, it was barely yours; you had broken up the aging family that had lived there for decades in a matter of weeks…he hadn’t known who had done it but he had to admit he was impressed when he saw your little head bobbing along up and down the path to move in. There was no way in hell that it had been a coincidence.

And he had been right.

Too right.

There were no such thing as coincidences when it came to you.

Albert had half hoped that when he followed you home that day and scared you half to death driving after you, that you might flee, and leave his routine alone. But when you had gone home after touching the hood of his van, and had locked your doors and muttered to yourself “Im gonna getcha I’m gonna getcha getcha…” over and over as you took your sleeping pill, and didn’t even notice him in the dark corner of your living room…he had decided he wanted to know more.

But then when he finally had you right there…he realized too quickly that he had mistakenly underestimated you.

And he had realized how much he enjoyed it.

He thought that by figuring you out and having you confess, he would somehow gain the upper hand and feel that fear he had of you dissipate…but then you had sat yourself right there in his lap like a present and pulled that blade out from god knows where…and he hadn’t felt so alive in a very, very long time. He had wanted you to stab him, hurt him…but you didn’t. He had wanted for you both to tip over the invisible edge and have one come out the winner, but it didn’t happen. You both remained firmly planted on the edge, teetering precariously.

If it was a game you wanted, it was a game he would give you.

It started small.

You knew he wouldn’t simply let you carry on living as if everything was peachy-keen, and sunshine and rainbows. At first, you thought he might do exactly that, especially when the following morning was horribly dull. So boring in fact that you found for self waiting extra long before pulling out from your driveway, and even stood in the back alley a little too long while taking out the trash…just in case he would pounce. Admittedly, you started to think very poorly of the man, wondering if he really was all that he was made out to be, or if he was all bark and no bite.

Then came the next morning. That bright, early dawn brought with it a very sour taste in your mouth in the form of four very flat tires on your little car. It didn’t take a mechanic or even anyone with brains to see that they each had very neat stab marks in them from a sharp kitchen knife. You slowly brought your gaze up to the house across the street, and while you didn’t see him, you felt him. You knew Albert was watching you. You knew he was gloating in that sick satisfaction of rendering you helpless. It was impressive how heavy his stare was- it sent goosebumps up and down your arms without you even seeing it.

Albert watched you kneel down to inspect the juvenile slashes on your tires that he has inflicted. While sloppy, there had been something liberating about jabbing a knife into something with no clean-up after.

Eyes trained on you, he watched you nod, as if you were showing him you understood that the game had begun.

You felt yourself unconsciously bite the inside of your cheek as excitement began to take you.

However, while you wished you could have run to the older man watching you, and picked up where you had left off before max has interrupted, you had a part to play. You cast your gaze from left to right, then found your target; one of your neighbours further down the road had just left his house, and you knew his wife was still asleep. The change in your demeanour was instant- so instant that Albert nearly choked on his coffee when he laughed. Distress riddled your features as you began looking around frantically, as if the culprit would return at any moment to do something else. To your credit, even you started to believe that you were scared of the older man across the street as you imagined him coming after you with a knife. You knew he was intimidating, but there was the undeniable simmer of warmth that came over you in his presence, even then as you inspected the damage- knowing that Al had stood there so close to your home with a knife and had taken the time to stab each tire…you almost felt flattered.

Almost.

But mostly you felt ravenous. Your teeth itched at the memory of how his tanned skin had felt in your jaws, and how pretty those marks looked on him. You wondered if he had liked it…you hoped he did. If he had, it would make this all the more fun, but if he was a prude then you whined at the thought of having to break him in like new shoes.

You had slipped into full hysteria now, and in your state, you managed to gain the attention of the family man you had spotted on his way to work. Johnathan you thought his name was…something like that. He was a little too dumb for your liking, but he was nice, and trusting, and those were two attributes you needed in your “saviour” in that moment.

“E-excuse me?”You called out to the man. He did a quick look around the nearly empty neighborhood. but once he spotted you and seemed to confirm with himself that you were indeed speaking to him, you had his undivided attention. In fact, he even started to come towards you, and you were fairly certain he didn’t even realise it.

You began to walk to him, wringing your hands. “I’m so sorry to bother you…you’re on your way to work aren’t you?” You began, pretending like you cared about anything.

“I am, but what’s 5 minutes? You don’t seem to be doing alright, miss…” he seemed nice. Gentle, and as you had anticipated…a little dim.

“I can’t thank you enough for coming over here…it just- gosh I’m sorry I’m so rattled…but it seems I’ve been the target of some late night mischief…do you think you could give me a lift to work, sir?”you begged, pushing your breasts together to help him make a choice.

Albert watched you practically throw yourself at that bumbling idiot from a few houses down. It was comical to him now- you had your little routine down so perfectly as you told the moron about how your tires were slashed. John was his name, Albert recalled seeing him babbling at the yearly neighbourhood block party in the summer- always looking for someone’s ear to bend…someone to validate him. Worked as an accountant. Dull and stupid as they come, just good with numbers.

He breathed out a humourless laugh- you certainly knew your way around the cocks of Denver, even if you didn’t know what they all looked like. And John was the perfect man for you right then- a hopeless man who would very well give you his house if you rubbed up against him.

Al’s mind wandered, Albert felt himself throb in his pyjama pants as he stood there, remembering how you had felt in his lap. How warm you had been, and the friction of your cunt against his jeans. Your blade pressed to his throat and eyes all wild. You had looked crazed, and by god Al had wanted to take a piece of you…just a piece. He wanted to dissect it and know what made it tick.

Hear it

Smell it

Feel it

Taste it-

A twinge of pain cut Al’s thought’s short, and made him look down at his hand. Sure enough, some of the busted skin of his knuckles had opened and begun to bleed as his clenched fists pulled the skin tight over his bones.

The older man’s eye twitched.

You had done this to him. This was entirely your doing- everything had been fine until you rolled into Denver; he wasn’t about to let you get off that easy. The moment Albert had decided to take that knife out to your car, and the moment you had nodded in understanding upon finding the damage, a silent competition had begun. Now, with that confirmation, and knowing that you were both locked in for whatever kind of ride this torment would be, he was elated.

There was a game to be played, and you were not about to slack on playing it. To start, however, you needed time to plan, and time to execute. Making people worry about you wasn’t in your play-book, but when used appropriately when you did indeed chose to employ it, it worked in your favour. It seemed that the best course of action would be to feign sickness, so that you could excuse yourself easily in the next week should you need to keep up with any of Albert’s challenges. You had been sure that when that man from down the street dropped you off, you put on your best weakened demeanour and dry cough, which you had perfected once you had arrived at the diner. When Anett had asked if you were alright, you of course waved her off and told her you were fine…but she had insisted that you just manage the counter and didn’t serve; patting you on the back.

It was nearly laughable how easy it was.

With your car out of commission for a few days, you took it upon yourself to do the responsible thing and call in sick the day following the incident. You were, after all, a good girl in everyone’s eyes; more concerned about the well-being of any diner-goers than yourself. Getting anyone sick was the last thing you wanted.

Well, at least that was what you had everyone believing.

With a day off on your hands, you decided that you would make the most out of having the metaphorical ball in your court. A million and a half ideas went through your head to get Al back for the damage he did to your car, but you had your heart settled on one that would likely make those pretty eyes of his twitch, and his strong jaw clench. Certainly it would do nothing to weaken his pocket, but it had high possibilities of making you howl with laughter. And what was so wrong with amusing yourself?

You patted yourself on the back for having listened to Albert when he had off-handedly mentioned where he worked weeks ago. After an off-handed comment you had made about how fit he was for sitting an awful lot at home…he had been quick to snap at you that he did physical labour all day and that you should watch your mouth. After that you took the liberty of enjoying his sturdy frame a little more with the mental image of him huffing and grunting with heavy loads.

The store front of Floro Hardware Store came into view as you rounded the corner of the street, and you did your best to hide your grin. Under your breath, you compulsively muttered the same sentence over and over like it was a promise. “I’m gonna getcha, I’m gonna getcha getcha…” as you fixed your skirt and shirt.

You had noticed Mr. Shaw had a particular liking for your dresses and skirts that had made their way into your closet since the warm weather started; you nearly giggled to yourself when you remembered how he had almost driven you and him off the road that day you had hopped into his van and bent over the seat to get a popsicle.

Poor old fuck.

The bell above the door rang and you let your eyes drop open like a doe; looking around hopelessly and helplessly in the hardware store. It became abundantly obvious that females were not a common sight in that particular establishment, and your presence stuck out like a sore thumb; by the turn of every head when you entered, everyone else was very much aware of that fact. You slowly walked up to the counter and pouted to yourself when Al wasn’t there immediately to greet you. In his place was a young man. It looked as if he had been slapped in the face by a ghost moments earlier as he stared at you, and you hid your scheming grin as best as you could.

Action.

“Excuse me, could you help me?” You asked sweetly. You placed your forearms on the counter and let your breasts push up - something this young man very much noticed.

It took him three seconds to look up from your cleavage, and a whole five seconds before he finally managed to speak.

“Y-yes. Yes I’m here for you- well not just um…for you- uh but I- I can help.” He stuttered out, ears turning red by the second.

Man…Albert was a poor old fuck for almost busting in his pants, but at least I would have gotten wet over it…this poor boy is about to explode in his pants and call his mom to pick him up and buy him an ice cream.

Ice cream….

You mentally punched yourself for not purchasing an ice cream before turning up to the shop to taunt Al. The look on his face would have been delectable.

“You’re so sweet…um, I need to get a car jack…do you sell those here?” You inquired, batting your eyes, and running your finger in a circle on the wood counter.

“W-we don’t have a lot…I’m uh- that’s more of a mechanic thing.” He said, scratching his neck.

“Oh?” You pouted, and looked embarrassed at your misunderstanding.

His eyes widened. “B-but we do have some! They’re just down here.” He clumsily made his way out from behind the counter and began walking deeper into the store. As soon as he passed you, you let your blush fade and you eyelids drop so as to give yourself a break for a moment. In true teenage fashion, the boy smelled like body odour and some sort of hair product that made you grimace.

“They’re just down there, um..do you know what you need?” He asked.

“I’m not too sure…you seem awfully smart though, think you could help little old me figure it out?” You touched his arm lightly and shrugged like a clueless bimbo.

He blushed and looked down at the jacks. , clearly not knowing what to say as his mind went blank. You grinned and put your hands on your hips as you thought. “I have a Ford Pinto…someone slashed the tires and I-“

“Emmet?”

You both froze. Emmet from the fact that his boss was calling him and you from the rush of excitement that struck you like lightning at the sound of said boss. Menace or not, Albert’s voice now meant ‘fun’ to you.

“I-I’ll be right there Mr. Shaw.” The young man stuttered, his face flushed and sweaty.

You stifled a giggle as you stared up at him, and covered your mouth when you heard the heavy footfalls of big, bad, boss man.

“What did I tell you about leaving the register like that? You know someone could just walk in a-“ Albert came to the aisle that held you and Emmet it in, and he came to a standstill. Ridged.

You both stared at one another, and you gleefully watched him fight to not take in your appearance. The skirt that barely came mid thigh and shirt that left little to the imagination. If you were honest you missed your more comfortable clothes…but you had a game to win and if giving up comfort meant just that, then so be it.

“Sorry, Mr. Shaw- I was j-just helping this lady-“

“That’s fine, back to the front…” Al nodded towards the front, signalling for the young employee to leave, “I’ll take care of this young woman.” He made little to no effort to hide his irritation.

Neither of you even watched Emmet scurry away, though you decided to add one more log to the fire, “Thank you for taking such good care of me Emmet!” You called after him, eyes locked on Al’s.

Now, as you were finally left alone with the older man, you smiled. “Fancy seeing you here, grandpa.” You teased him, “So…is he your demographic or do you like younger?”

The older man’s eye twitched and by god you wanted to kiss the skin that pulled ever so slightly at the tick. Or perhaps bite it.

“What the fuck do you want?” He growled as he took a few steps closer to you.

You hummed and looked down at the heavy jacks on the lower shelf. “Well you see, Mr. Shaw, I was a victim of a vehicular violation…and I take violations very seriously.” You cooed, bending over as if you were checking the prices. You knew you were offering Albert a very full view of your panties that were tight against your plump lower lips; practically begging to be kissed. You wondered what it would feel like to have his mouth against-

“You and I both know you had a damn tow truck take your car away this morning.” He rasped, taking another step into the aisle.

“Did I? I’m so forgetful.” You pretended to think.

You were about to straighten up when you felt a firm hand at the base of your neck pull you up. You almost gasped but another hand over your mouth swiftly dashed that possibility. Albert shoved you against the far wall at the end of the aisle, and you did your best to look afraid and confused instead portraying how excited you were. A fight in that store would be exhilarating.

“Look you little bitch…you’re going to listen to me.” His rough voice almost began to gain a strange, playful lilt to it, and you wondered if this was how he spoke to his victims, “Do not try to wedge yourself into my life like it’s something you deserve. What you deserve is to go find another town and fuck it up. Stay away from Denver.”

You watched him closely, and muttered out “Or what, Mr. Shaw?” Against his hand, which came out muffled but it seemed he was talented in understanding muffled voices.

“There is no “or what.” I’m tired of you here, and I have a certain amount of respect for…someone like you. So get out of here while I still have that.” He whispered.

Your eyes slowly hardened, and you truly couldn’t help yourself, not when he was being so condescending to you. No one told you what to do, and even though you wouldn’t mind Albert Shaw doing just that in a different setting, this was not that time. So while those thick finger still sat over your mouth, you sunk your teeth into two of them hard and bit down until he wrenched his hand away.

“God- fucking hell…you need a damn muzzle.” Albert hissed, and clenched his hand. You noticed again, that he only took a step away, and that his pants looked to be…uncomfortable.

“You alright there Mr. Shaw? You look a little riled up.” You mocked.

Albert held his hand in a tight fist, weighing it in his hand like he was debating having you eat it or not. Evidently, when he took another step to the end of the aisle and looked straight ahead to the front of the store, he chose not to attempt to send you to the hospital.

“Just get out. Don’t let me see you here again.” He muttered.

His choice disappointed you, but did not surprise you. You pouted, and walked towards him none the less. This was meant to be a game, and it certainly wasn’t over yet. As you passed him,you made sure to brush against his front and let a breathy moan escape you to see if it would send him over the edge. Make his cool demeanour shatter.

It didn’t.

And then, the ball was in Al’s court.

The stunt you pulled at his work resulted in both a pesky and almost titillating turn of events. Each morning, and nearly every night, you came to find that Albert was now enjoying the pleasure of moving various items in your home. Water glasses placed where your feet would sit the ground; toilet paper hidden, shampoo emptied; hair ties in your freezer, and panties gone- your least favourite, just to name a few. He even moved your medications and you noticed that he thoroughly enjoyed leaving cabinets open and moving furniture just an inch or so in the way so your would walk right into them; he must like how bruises looked on you.

It didn’t seem to matter how many locks you bought, or traps you set, Albert always managed to get inside, and mess with your safe haven. It became a constant reminder that you had thrown any hope of a haven out the window when you decided to try and seduce Al that night when he was battered. Not that you regretted it- it had been the most fun you’d had in years. You gathered the high it gave you was likely similar to the high of a line of cocaine.

To answer his little home invasions, you took it upon yourself to pick his lock and leave a pair of your panties square in the middle of his bed. Seeing as he was intent of touching all of your belongings, why not just give him one?

By a stroke of luck, while you followed him that same day to a local park, you came to find that you were, in fact, witnessing one of his stalking escapades. To add more fuel to the metaphorical fire, took it upon yourself to be a good bystander and inform the adolescents he was watching that the Grabber would get them if they weren’t careful. Of course they were sceptical at first, but with a quick “How can you be so sure?” And a nod to a conspicuous black van down the street, you watched as they hopped on their bikes and scrambled home. All you heard following that was the screech of tires as said black van peeled out of the neighbourhood. Interfering with each other’s hunting hadn’t been a part of the game yet, and you knew that by introducing the new rule it opened up a plethora of possibilities.

This stunt had earned you a particularly nasty retort by Albert.

Your evening had initially gone perfectly. With your car in the shop still, you had opportunity after opportunity to exploit your inconvenience. This particular night, you had desperately needed a ride home after work, and you counted your lucky stars when a familiar face had just so happened to be walking by where you had been standing. Not that he needed to know that you had walked three blocks to “bump” into him, or stalked his schedule for a week.

“Th-thanks again for driving me home…I owe you.” You said gently, grabbing a glass to fill with water for him.

Steven -you had learned his name was- had indeed been your knight in shining armour that night. He was leaned against the counter, smiling. “Oh it’s my pleasure…Not like we’re total strangers, right?” He replied.

Not strangers at all.

You laughed gently and shrugged as you passed the glass to him, “I suppose not…your sure your wife doesn’t mind? I’d hate to make you late for dinner.”

“Hm?” He looked down at you from taking a sip, “Oh Nancy and I are used to opposite schedules…she’s a night clerk so, uh…I’m all yours.” He tilted his head and winked at you so fast you almost didn’t see it.

You let a blush grace your cheeks and you fidgeted, falling into your routine. “You know…um…I- Sorry would you like to sit?” You stumbled over your words, and nodded to the couch. It seemed your suggestions elated Steven, and you had to admit you were too; the knife strapped to your thigh was making you itch with anticipation.

The spot you took on the couch was perhaps a touch too close as your knees brushed against one another, and his quick intake of breath was exactly what you wanted.

“Can I ask you something?” You muttered, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Yea, defiantly.” He replied as he moved a touch closer to settle in.

You sighed, and looked embarrassed.

“Why…why are you here with me? Right now?” You asked.

You’re here before I made sure you would be, but that’s besides the point.

For a moment, Steven looked confused, and you knew it was just as fake as your tale of needing a ride home, but of course you played along. This man knew exactly what you were saying, but he wasn’t about to let that on- he had a part to play too after all; an innocent husband who was simply trying to help a young woman out and certainly didn’t want to get his dick wet in her.

“Why am I-..? I gave you a lift, remember?…a-are you feeling alright?” He even went so far as to touch your knee with his hand.

You gave an audible gasp.

Steven’s eyes searched yours, and you bit the inside of your cheek as you bashfully looked up at him. His eyelids grew heavy, realizing just how close you were to one another.

“Yes, yes I’m fine…I-I don’t know…I’m…I’m just nervous I suppose.” You admitted, a shiver running down your spine, “Forget I asked, it was a stupid question…”

“Nervous about what? Do I make you nervous, sweetheart?” He cooed to you, and you felt your heart skip.

“No…it’s just-“

“Just?”

“I like you…have for a while…” you caved, and looked away, shrugging one shoulder.

He was so close, his lips almost brushing yours.

Steven let out a breathy laugh, “Have you now? Well I suppose that makes two of-“

Knock knock knock.

The jarring sound caused you both to jump apart from one another as your heads whipped towards the front door. A bolt of dread shot through you when you saw blinking red lights come through the window. Dread settled deep in your stomach at the thought of the authorities finally catching up with you.

You looked at Steven and he looked at you, eyes wide. You were almost certain he was about the jump out the window and run; most likely thinking Nancy had somehow found out about the two of you and had called the cops on you.

“One moment…” you said and stood, crossing the room to the door and opened it. You were greeted with a very burly man in a full fireman’s uniform and a firm expression on his face.

You swallowed.

“Good evening ma’am…we received a call regarding a strong smell of gas emitting from your home…everything alright here?” He asked, casting his eyes around the interior of your home. You blinked and shook your head.

“No- no nothing…I haven’t noticed a thing.” You said.

The fireman nodded, “Mind if we check any outlets and gas lines? Can’t be too careful.” He stated more than asked.

You knew that if you said no he would only push more, and you also knew that any hopes of roping Steven in tonight were dashed thanks to the scare, so you shook your head. “Not at all. Please, come in.”

He shuffled past you, and for the next ten minutes you waited as three firemen checked your home. Of course, your mind was already beginning to spin as you thought of how this might have happened.

On the couch, Steven sat awkwardly; part mortified at being caught in your home and partly because he had been attempting to calm the hard cock in his pants. The idea of hauling him into your bedroom and locking the door fleeted through your mind, though you decided against it…Steven was done, and scared off, at least for the night. If you wanted him to play your game you needed to start all over again, and you were too tired.

Tired, and angry.

In fact, you were fuming.

There was no use in pretending that you weren’t. You had been working on Steven for months ever since he looked at you longer than he should have that first when you got off the bus. If it werent for the very charming driver for the fire truck keeping you company, you would have been tapping your foot and carving a hole in the door frame.

“I’m sorry you have to wait like this ma’am, it’s a real cold night.” He said, looking around at the beiludet neighbours of yours that took up upon themselves to inspect what was going on.

You sighed

“I just don’t know who would have called it in…it makes no sense. I haven’t even been home all day so-“ you caught yourself mid sentence and felt your eye spasm.

No…

Your ears started ringing as realization dawned on you. Very slowly, you turned your head to gaze across the street, and when you saw Albert Shaw standing on his front step eating an apple, you thought your teeth might break from how tightly you clenched your jaw. He stared back at you with a grin that could only be described as evil.

“You alright ma’am?”

You could barely make out the voice of the fireman in front of you.

A wave of rage washed over you, when you saw the elder Shaw shoot you a wink to match his grin before disappearing back into his house. He knew he was untouchable so long as the firemen where there, and if you did come to him and pick a fight, he was beyond ready.

You looked back to the driver and smiled sweetly, “I live near a lot of elderly folks…you know how paranoid they can get. I’m sure it was an honest mistake.”

The man laughed lightly and nodded, “Tell me about it…pretty sure my nana wanted me to be a firefighter just so I could rescue her old cat every week and get paid for it.”

You laughed along, pretending like you didn’t want to stab the closest thing to you. Sadly it would have been him if you didn’t have your self control in check.

The man, evidently intent on distracting you, continued his onslaught of stories from work that made him laugh. As your anger began to subside, and the ringing in your ears turned into his voice, you began to notice how nice it was. He was sweet. Tall, tanned skin, dark hair that had a little silver to it and a sharp smile…and a pretty gold band on his finger too.

Your blood began to run hotter in your veins as you locked onto the yellow metal. You wondered if his marriage was happy…if he kissed his wife goodbye everyday or if they hadn’t spoken in a week. Were they friends or like roommates? Was he a father?

“-then my buddy had to catch the other side of the stretcher because I was about ready to pass out an-“

“What- um,” you mindlessly cut him off, finally looking up at him instead of at the house across the street. He seemed taken aback by your sudden ability to talk, “…gosh, I’m sorry…but what was your name, sir?” You asked, shyly. It seemed he found your faux coyness endearing.

He grinned. “Marc.” He replied, and held his hand out to you to shake, which you did just as the other men came out from your home.

The man in front heaved a sigh and gave a tight lipped smile.

“Welp, all clear here. Sorry to bother you ma’am.” He said as he guided the others back to the massive red truck.

You blushed as you stepped out of their way but bumped into Marc.

“Oh it’s miss.” You said, ducking your head down a little while they stopped to speak with you, “Thank you for being so thorough…I’m glad nothing was wrong.”

“Just doing our jobs, miss. Keeping you safe is number one on our priority list.” They nodded, and each of them cracked a smile at how embarrassed you seemed to be.

It never ceased to amaze you how much men latched onto a sky or feeble woman. It was easy to assume it wasn’t everyday they got a call that involved a pretty little thing all worried in a sundress and blushing for them. And of course it wasn’t everyday that you were surrounded by men twice your size, telling you they were there to protect you.

They left after another moment, but you didn’t miss how Marc cast you one last look before driving the massive vehicle away. He even waved a little, which you returned.

You grinned. Not a total loss to an evening…

“What a night…” came Steven’s voice behind you.

Your eyes had glazed over as you imagined Marc under you, telling you he loved you.

“Hm?” You hummed as you refocused , “Yes…I’m so sorry about all that…” you sighed, “Theres a lot of elderly families here and while I love them, I think they can be a little paranoid.”

Half true.

But saying that you have a homicidal magician living across from you who you’re in a battle of wits with simply didnt seem right.

Steven said something about needing to head home, but that he would call you. You knew you said something back- something he wanted to hear- but your eyes were glued to the house across the street. You knew Steven wouldn’t call you. You knew that you wouldn’t see him except for at that coffee shop; knew that he would be terrified of Nancy finding out about his continued infidelity that you knew he struggled with since that first day you saw him stumble out of the pub with his friend when you stepped off the greyhound downtown.

“I’m gonna getcha…” You chanted in your head.

And you fully intended on doing just that. Though you weren’t certain what you would do if you did get Albert…it didn’t bother you one bit. You wanted to get him, and whatever else that entailed.

Knock knock knock

Your knuckles rapped against the front door of 7740 Irving St. And you stepped forward enough to crowd whoever opened the door. Only a few moments passed before you heard Max muttering “I’m comin’, I’m comin’.” over the sound of Samson barking. You put on your best smile when the door opened and waved brightly.

“Morning Max! Could I bother you for a minute?” You chirped.

Max looked…unkept. You wondered how long ago he had woken up, and gathered it had to have been no longer than half an hour ago. He stared down at you for a moment, his unlit cigarette hanging there on his lip, “Sure thing. Come on in.” He said, standing aside and waving his arm dramatically like he was a half-dead showman.

For a man so paranoid of the world around him you were surprised by his lack of any guard…or if he had it he hid it well.

Once you came to stand in the living-room, you clasped your hands together and looked down , even wringing your wrists.

“This is going to sound so strange but…I was wondering if I could steal one of Al’s shirts?” You asked bashfully.Max’s eyes went wide and he stared at you confused. This request must have been odd enough for him to sober up a little.

You sighed and pretended to come clean, even avoiding his gaze to sell it.

“I-I know it must sound weird but Al was wearing this one the other day and it was just so cool and I’m pretty sure it was vintage…he said I could borrow it sometime and I totally forgot to pop in earlier…I don’t think he would mind though if I just grabbed it. Is that alright?” You pushed, laying in every ounce of charm you could to get your way. You knew it was odd and that if Max was in his right mind he would ask more questions, but you hoped you caught him before he was able to sober up too much.

A moment or two passed. You were about ready to push harder, but it seemed you didn’t need to.

“Y-yeah, I think that would be okay.” He said, nodding with his hands on his hips like he was capable of making a judgement call.

As if he had a choice.

A bright smile adorned your face.“You’re the best! I owe you.” You said, already walking into the house towards Al’s bedroom. It seemed Max didn’t question how you knew where his older brothers room was, and you were thankful for it. Not that questions would stop you, but they were tedious to deal with.

As soon as you stepped foot inside, you shut the door behind you and took a deep breath- inhaling the smell of Albert Shaw. For a moment, your head spun; you wondered about everything that had happened in that room alone. You wondered how he looked laying in his bed; sleeping, reading; cock in hand, cumming over a magazine….

But you didn’t have time for that.

You walked to his dresser, and pulled open drawers until you found his shirts. It didn’t take long for you to find one you liked, but you took your time nonetheless to ensure you did this right. You knew he was in your house often enough, and you felt it was only fair to enjoy being in his space; ensure that he was aware of your close presence.

It seemed that a burnt orange button up became your favourite, and you laid it on the bed to inspect your decision- touching the buttons fondly. Everything smelled like him. Of course it did, and it started to make your head dizzy.

“Any luck?”

You were snapped out of your daze when Max’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Yep! I’ll be out in just a second.” You called back with an eerily cheerful voice that how emotionless your face was.

Anticipation filled you for what was to come. You knew shoving Al’s privacy if his face would rattle him, but by god you hoped he snapped. Before long, you were replacing your own shirt with the button up, and tucking it into your skirt and putting your blouse in his drawer.

You jumped with excitement for a moment, then quickly walked to the door and moved through to the living room where Max flipped threw the TV channels. “I owe you Max!” You called. He said something back, but you didn’t hear it as you ran out; intent on getting to a certain hardware store that now counted you as a regular customer.

You are practically bouncing by the time you opened the door, and truly couldn’t hide the vicious smile you dawned when you saw that Al was right there at the counter, engrossed in an inventory sheet. The bell rang, and you saw his customer service face automatically take over his handsome features.

“Good mor-“ he started, but his greeting cut off as soon as he saw you; his eyes narrowed and he sucked on his teeth as he took in the very familiar shirt, “What the fuck are you wearing?”

You shrugged and sauntered up to him without a care, “I wear skirts all the time, you know that Mr. Shaw.”

The crows feel beside his eyes were as prominent as the crevice between his brows as he glowered at you.

“You know I’m not talking about that little skirt, kiddo. Stop breaking into my damn house.” He rasped, putting his clipboard down and crossing his arms; you tried and failed to not enjoy how the tendons and muscles stretched under his skin as he did so. You wondered just how strong he was… if that had been his full strength the other night or if he was holding back.

You pouted like you knew he hated, and leaned up onto the counter, knowing very well that you had left enough buttons undone for him to see that you were wearing a lacy black bra that barely contained your breasts. “You didn’t like my panties last week?”

Albert’s eye twitched.

As did his cock.

Of course he had hated the panties. He hated how he imagined how they would sit against your cunt, stretched over your lips, trying to soak up your slick but failing as it dripped down your soft thighs. He hated how he had to sit in his bed with his legs spread wide as he wrapped them around his hand and pumped his thick cock until he came all over his fingers. He hated how once hadn’t been enough.

“No.” Al stated, barely moving an inch. It was only when the bell above the door chimed that he dropped the scowl and put a smile on his face, “Morning!” He called to the customer, his voice going up in a lilt that made a shiver run down your spine.

Your ears began to heat up, and your panties suddenly felt uncomfortable.

Once the man disappeared down one of the aisles, Albert turned back to you and it was too little too late for you to recover from the unpleasantly pleasant feeling forming between your legs. It seemed that Al noticed just as soon as you did when your cheeks coloured pink, and you suddenly stopped holding his stare just for a moment.

Albert leaned over the counter to you, but regardless of your situation, you didn’t move. Even as you stared at a chip in the worden counter and squeezed your thighs together.

“Something bothering you there, kiddo?” He cooed to you in that same, high voice that made you feel so small.

To save yourself from humiliation, you fixed your face, stared him in the eyes and smiled. “Nothing at all, Mr. Shaw, just enjoying the nice smell of this shirt I’m wearing.” You tilted your head to the collar, and took a deep breath.

Albert’s eyes widened. It seemed he hadn’t expected that.

“Get out of here. And wash my shirt before you return it.” He snapped, placing his palms down on the counter, rings making a ding against the wood.

But you just smiled wider. “Oh I’ll have to…I know, between you and me.” You leaned forward into his space until you were just a breath away, “I think I’ll have to take this to the dry cleaners…don’t think my poor washing machine will be able to handle the mess I’m going to make wearing this later in bed.”

You felt your stomach grow warm when his ears began to go red. Your eyes flicked between his, daring him to scream at you, pull you over the counter or haul you into the back and do unspeakable things to you…anything.

But Albert had what you lacked.

Control. Great…deep control.

“Get out.” He whispered; words turning to air against your own lips.

“Always a pleasure Mr. Shaw.” You chirped.

You were gone and out the door before he could even catch one more glimpse down your…his shirt.

Albert rubbed his eyes. “God dammit…”

The starched collar of your uniform made you itch for a moment- for some reason you just couldn’t get comfortable that day. It was easy to tell anyone who asked if you were alright that you just weren’t feeling your best, but there was no tricking yourself; you were bothered. It had been two days since you taunted Al at his work, in his shirt, and you could still hear his voice in your head. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you had slipped your hand between your thighs…you were always left wanting-

“Sugar could you be an angel and take the trash round back? We’re making a record today I swear.” Anett called to you as you wiped down an empty table.

You gagged in your mind, but nodded and smiled, “Sure thing.”

The smell of grease permeated the air as you walked back through the kitchen from the front; sure enough there were two large trash bags sitting waiting for you. Judging by the smell, you didn’t want to know what was in them, though you knew you had certainly cleaned up far worse messes than those. Something about blood made it so much easier to clean than old diner food though…it seemed so tranquil and simple. No smell, no worries. Just water and bleach.

With a deep breath away from the bags, you used your hip to open the back door, and grasped both bags; they weighed a tonne, and would have been easier to carry one at a time but, you weren’t about to be back there any longer than you needed. You hauled one into the bin, and grabbed the neck of the other-

“Need a hand there kid?”

The kid of the garbage bin slipped from your hand and landed with a resounding bang. Your hairs stood on end.

What was that old saying? Speak of the devil and he shall appear?

Hell, Albert must have been right up there with old Satan because you didn’t even have to say his name for him to sneak up on you.

Of course, the last thing you wanted to do was to let on just how startled you were by his sudden presence, nor how a heat shot directly down to your navel at the sound of that strange lilt- it wasn’t like his ego needed more of a boost.

“The entrance is around the other side, sir.” You said, lifting the lid again without turning around.

You heard him breathe out a laugh, and the shuffle of his feet as he took a step- presumably towards you.

“I think the entrance I’m looking for is right here, sweetheart.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes and held the lid open, giving theatrical wave as you turned around, “Climb right in.”

Albert tucked his keys into his pocket as he watched you deposite the other bag. It made him laugh to himself at the image of you in such a domestic position such as throwing out a bag of trash; he had watched you drag dark garbage bags around countless times, but with far more incriminating excrement than what you dealt with right at that moment. You looked so human to him that he almost thought he made up the depraved things you got up to in your spare time.

Almost.

If he hadn’t committed said crimes to his memory, and the mental image of you with it he might have…but he had yet to get the vision of you covered in blood from his mind. So rabid.

“You really do have quite the mouth on you…you know that, Princess?” The older man chided, watching you closely as you seemed to make no move to escape him.

“Yours ain’t that wonderful either, Mister.” You replied, hands coming to your hips.

Albert’s eye spasmed, but his firm grin didn’t falter, in fact if anything his teeth shone through a little more. If your bite hadn’t been as hard as his you might have cowered away from such a predator.

The two of you stood there for a long ten seconds.

Nether of you moving an inch, neither of you looking away.

Locked.

It wasn’t until a door shut somewhere down the alley that Al cast a slow look around. It seemed that what me saw satisfied him enough to take a step forward, and let his hands drop to his sides. The hairs on your body began to stand on end as goosebumps sprung up. Albert was smiling. And not just any smile; it was comfortable, and while that might not have put you on edge, his arms so comfortably limp at his hips made you watch him a little closely. There was something sinister to seeing anyone so at ease.

“Is there anything you don’t have a response to, kid?” He sucked on his teeth bitterly, “You just never know when to quit or when you’re out-done.” Al spoke so casually, you almost forgot what he could likely do to you with no one knowing.

He took another step, slow enough for you to almost not notice.

Almost.

You shrugged and slammed the bin closed, “A girl’s gotta be prepared, Mr. Shaw. There’s an oughta lot of creeps out there.”

Another step.

“I’ve heard. You’d better be careful who you trust…you might get yourself in a sticky situation.” Albert’s gaze began to burn into you. Certainly you could hold your own against him but there was something so deliberate about that stare of his that afternoon. So precise.

“I’m a big girl. Think I can handle any of those creeps that think they can take me…they’re stupid if they think so.” You replied as unbothered as possible.

Another step.

You had forgotten how tall he was.

Truly how much bigger he was than you.

You refused to believe he was stronger though.

You so badly wanted to stand your ground. Every bit of your stubborn mind told you to not move, let him get in your space but don’t move. Then, the closer he got, you truly couldn’t help but take a small step back.

Tiny.

Minuscule.

Barely a breath of a step. But it was enough. Enough to let Albert know that he had you.

You bit your inner lip at your weakness- you might as well have offered your neck for him to bite into.

“See…I think you’re a whole hell of a lot more scared than you let on, kiddo.” He said, continuing his slow stalk towards you, and you in turn gave in to your retreat.

“Oh? Of what?” You chirped with a childish grin as you held onto the fight you had left in you. As if he would know…

Albert shrugged comically, and shook is finger at you.

“I don’t know yet…but something tells me you have a need for attachment, don’t you?” His smile stretched.

A sharp pain stabbed your heart. Your eyes widened ever so slightly, but just like your small step back had been, it was enough. A simple, small tell. A crack in your perfect façade.

“Ah…makes sense.” He mused, “All those men who you so desperately want to love you…but none of them live up to what you want do they?” He hummed in that singsong voice that made your nipples harden.

You knew he had watched you on those nights you played with your prey, but you didn’t know he heard you. “Tell me you love me…” it was the same thing every time…they never said it. Or they never meant it.

You smiled like you weren’t shaken by the idea of him knowing, and shrugged in hopes that the terror building inside of you wouldn’t show. “Well if that’s what I’m needing then what’s your deal, old man? Daddy a little too mean to you so you’re beating the shit out of little boys to try and understand why you were treated so badly?”

Albert stopped.

You smiled wider. “Oh that’s it isn’t it? You’re just a sad old fu-“

Albert’s large, veiny hand was wrapped around your throat and lifting you up against the wall he smashed you into before you could finish your taunt. In your need to save face, you missed how close he had gotten to you. Your head hit the cold cement of the side of the building with a hard thud that made your mind spin in a dizzy circle.

“Someone’s going to have to teach you some fucking manners one of these days and you’re not going to like it.” He seethed, breathing your air like it belonged to him.

“If it’s you doing it then I might like it a little.” You chirped as if your vision wasn’t going starry.

He laughed in your face.

“Yea? I bet you’d enjoy it until my belt started to paint a pretty, red marks on your back.” Albert’s brows came down heavy over his eyes.

“Tell me more.” You ground out. In a last ditch effort, you used his ego to your advantage and waited until he thought you’d pass out before bringing your knee up into his ribs.

Albert gasped out for a moment, lending you enough time to sink your teeth into the meat of his hand, and knocking his ear. The subsequent ringing in his head disoriented him for a moment, and you were about to push him over into the dirt before returning to work when adrenaline gripped him; Albert let out a sound you could only call a growl, then before you knew it, your back was against the wall again, but this time his hand wasn’t the only thing holding you off the ground. His thick thigh nestled between your legs and kept you perched there whether you liked it or not. The grip he had on you now was not just to keep you there, it was to prove a point; that he was faster, bigger and better than you. Certainly you were younger and very fast and equally strong, but there comes a certain extra advantage to being older. The ability to anticipate is something that can only come with age, and you had yet to get to his level.

Poor thing.

“Princess, you’re fucking impossible, you know that?” He half laughed, half rasped out as he pressed you against the concrete with his chest, barely leaving room for you to breathe. “My van is just down the end of this alley, I could take you right now and no one would care would they?”

You bit your lip- refusing to give him any satisfaction. You tasted blood from how hard you bit down.

“They wouldn’t even fucking notice, huh? You think you’re so damn important and loved, don’t you? Tell me.” Albert ran his nose along your cheek, Au hung in a breath by your ear.

“Answer me!”He lifted you up a little more on his thigh, and your feet were completely off the ground. You felt like some little doll of his. But then he knocked you on his muscle to get a better grip on you, and the friction rubbed your clit perfectly. You couldn’t help it: you gasped.

Albert froze, and those hard blue eyes of his trained so intently on yours that you thought he might see through you.

Then a look passed over his face that made your stomach flip. It was like a dare. He did the same movement as if to test you, or to confirm with himself that you had indeed reacted in such a way. And just like before, you truly were betrayed by your body when your hips rocked against him.

Your eyes began to sting as your vicious walls began to crumple under his touch. Sure you had been intimate before with men, but there was something about the cruel nature of his that matched yours; your veins were ablaze with scorching blood.

“You…” he was at a loss for words.

She…wants this?

As the thought filtered through his head, something crossed his mind. Albert took his free hand that wasn’t around your throat and pinned your hip to the wall, taking away any ability you had to move. A soft whine emitted from you and you feebly tried to fight against him as if you still believed you wouldn’t give anything in the world to come right there on his thigh.

“P-please.” You whimpered before you could stop yourself. You wanted to thibg it was a plea for him to stop and let you go, but you both knew it was a beg for more. For closure. A deep, carnal need.

Albert huffed out a puff of air that fanned across your face and you stared up at him- dazed as your arousal clouded your head. All you needed in that moment was the friction to return.

Albert guided your hips this time, dragging you against his jeans and you cried out- much to his pleasure. Your sensitivity was beyond anything the older man had seen with his own eyes; you felt as if you were a new toy he was trying to figure out. He, in turn, watched as your dress bunched up around your hips and the dark mark you were making.

“Jesus, kiddo…you wearing any panties?” He asked incredulously.

You nodded desperately.

“Yea? Those little black ones I wanted to rip off you? Bet you would have liked that huh? Wouldn’t even learn your lesson…you’d just do the same over all over again, hm?” Albert tightened his grip on your throat as he continued to move your soaked pussy against his thigh. You could feel the tip of his hardening cock each time you rocked against him, and your mind began to short circuit at the thought of having it inside you. How he would stretch you, and force you to fit his length inside you. How warm his cum would be as he filled you…

In your daze, you forgot to answer him, and he tightened his hand even more, “Answer me.” He growled, grinding against you erratically.

But you could only moan out as the air was blocked from your windpipe.

Someone could so easily walk past you both, but it seemed you collectively did not care. If anything it spurred you on- the idea of someone seeing you being taken advantage of made you clench down around nothing and you were keenly aware of how empty you were.

“You’re a disgusting little thing…” he chided. You knew he was starting to lose it just as much as you- his words were breathier, and his mouth was practically on yours as he spoke.

Then, as if you both couldn’t help it anymore, your lips collided in a painfully messy kiss. Your teeth hurt as they clanked against his and your tongue was abused by his, but you cried out a desperate moan as you humped shamelessly at his well muscled thigh. Your clit almost hurt from how stimulated it was.

To your dismay, his hand left your throat, but then you felt both come to your hips, bringing you to his groin as he rutted his cock against you. You gasped out into his mouth when you felt it firmly press into your flesh; you could only imagine how thick it was, and how painful taking the tip would be…

His bit at your lip, and sucked on your tongue. Your mind started to go blank as your orgasm built, and apparently your mounting whines and moans and pleas were enough for Albert to understand. “That’s it, come on…atta girl, come on you can do it…you’re gonna come right here on my fucking thigh…” he rasped against your lips, “You hear me?”

You nodded, and began to babble incoherently. “P-please I cant- I’m gonna…god- please d- don’t let me go, I’ll come -d-daddy!” You didn’t mean for that to slip out, but you couldn’t care. Evidently it was enough to send Albert over the edge of his own orgasm.

He groaned against your mouth.

“Fucking- god you’re a little whore…my little fucking whore…I won’t let you go- fu- I got yo-you.” He ground out as his hot sticky cum coated the inside of his pants. You nodded helplessly, and let go as he continued to use you to ride out his high. You released one of his shoulders to cover your mouth, but he ripped it away and sealed his lips over yours as you came. Your hips twitched and you felt your cum soak into his pants, likely leaving a stain. Your thighs were sticky, and you swore your dress would be ruined.

Your heart beat erratically in your chest, and pulsed in your ears. For one long minute, you couldn’t think and could hardly register that your lips were still moving against his. You could taste blood, and something sweet that made you never want to part from him. Then, very slowly, you both pulled apart- a cold string of saliva connecting your lips.

Your eyes lazily locked onto his, and under his blissful gaze, you felt like the only thing in the world to him.

Your eyes stung, and words ached on your tongue that you couldn’t say.

He sighed, and pushed your hair out of your face.

“Let that be a lesson to not test your neighbours, princess…there’s some creeps out there.” He murmbered against you, then his thigh was gone from between your legs.

“W-what?” Your heart sunk down to your ankles as you watched him right himself, and pat your cheek.

“Do me a favour,” he said, already turning to leave, “Leave a window open tonight…I’m an old man and I’d rather have an easy entrance.” He called over his shoulder.

You felt scorched and frozen as he walked away as if he didn’t have two large stains on his jeans. Your head spun almost painfully while you tried to grasp what had just happened.

“What the fuck…” you whispered shakily to yourself.

“Y/n? Y/n!”

You spun around to the sound of your name, and righted yourself just in time before Anett poked her head out from the back door, her brows pinched in worry, “You alright there, sugar?” she asked, looking around.

In your peripheral was a black van pulling away, and a very devious older man casting one last look your way; as soon as your vision cleared of the vehicle, you smiled easily and waved your hand like you had a juice story Anett just wouldn’t believe, “Oh yea, a delivery guy needed help, and asked if I’d give him a hand. Dumbass tried to feel me up so I gave him a pretty crooked nose.” You answered as steadily as you could as if your clit wasn’t still pulsing and your cum wasn’t sticking your thighs together.

Evidently it was sufficient enough of an answer for your manager, who rolled her eyes and nodded as if she knew exactly what you were talking about. As she began to go on about men and how unsafe the world was, your eyes glazed over; your mind was reeling at a mile a minute as it tried to process exactly what had happened in the alley between you and Albert. Certainly it was not the first time you had engaged in something akin to that, but what you hadn’t anticipated was…him. Albert Shaw. He was some kind of unpredictable piece of shrapnel that was wedged between your ribs; you could feel him with every breath even as you strode back onto the tile floor of the diner.

The feeling of his hands was embedded into your skin like a brand, and you couldn’t help but discreetly touch where his skin had met yours. How he had unabashedly ridden out his desire for you like you owed him. Albert didn’t hold back like the others did…and there was little for you to do but play every move over and over repeatedly in your mind. He had wanted you. Craved you. You flushed red and your breath caught in your throat when you thought that he might need you.

A question began to circulate in your head.

Do I need him?

You had never needed anyone before, and you truly didn’t know how to rationalize it.

Most of all you thought of how the world had seemed to simply melt away as soon as he had pressed you against that concrete wall; there had just been Al, and his thigh between your legs, warm breath on your cheeks, and his words in your ears…

Do I need him?

Yes. Yes I do.

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

@dogmatic255 @ethanhoewke @honeycovered-bandaids @dancingisdangerouss @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @theroadreader2 @lxdyred @eth1calcannibal @ebiemidnightlibrarian @katehawke e @blep-bloop @ratpackash @al-shaw @darkvoidz @belladonnaaura @pecter-specter @samhainrain @turtle-boris

#ethan hawke #the grabber #albert shaw #the grabber x reader #the black phone #slasher x reader #the blackphone fanfic #ethan hawke fanfic #albert shaw x reader

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riprendscore · 4 months

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(This is an RP account dedicated to one Strade from Boyfriend to Death. Absolutely 18+ ONLY, all minors to be blocked immediately upon discovery.)

(Despite written and portrayed like an actual page, like an actual person, this is just a character I'm playing and nothing said or done concerns real events or situations.)

(Blog can and should honestly be assumed to have extremely graphic depictions of violence, human & animal death, gore, sex/rape, necrophilia, mind-games, enslavement, verbal and physical abuse- it's basically just safest to assume this place is bad and poor from every angle to begin with.)

(Despite being open to a lot, I do have some standards and will absolutely refuse to write anything relating to pedophilia, incest, bestiality, scat, vore, any type of loli bullshit. (I don't mind lolita fashion, I think it's very cute! But let's not pretend you don't know what I'm referring to.))

(Strade is friendly, but brash. He will say mean things to you, and treat you ways that may not be comfortable. None of this reflects on my personal beliefs, or opinions, or what I think.)

(Mun has a hard time juggling multiple interactions/plots and I have a bad habit of randomly vanishing despite continuing activity elsewhere. It's just something I do! This isn't because I'm actively avoiding anyone or was bothered into silence, it's just because my social battery and motivation often fail me. I am safe to approach for any grievances one may have and would very much appreciate being spoken to if need be.)

(DM's are open to chat with Mun, and also Strade! (Please let me know if you're IC or OOC.) But I'm afraid I don't privately RP due to my own comfort.)

(Also! I have VERY very sensitive eyes, and they are very easily strained which hurts my head and affects my focus. When interacting with me, AND THIS IS ONLY A REQUEST NOT AN OBLIGATION, I would greatly appreciate not using

text like this

or excessive colors. Thank you!)

(Take care.) (Written by @collar-shocked (23 yrs of age.) )

#btd #boyfriend to death #strade #btd strade #boyfriend to death rp #btd rp #btd roleplay #boyfriend to death roleplay #btd strade rp #btd strade roleplay

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beemovieerotica · 10 months

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Yoo, your post about the whole controversy around jk Rowling being something not that wide spread outside internet really reasonated with me. I'm openly trans at work + Jewish (and I assume you might know about the Harry Potter game controversy), and one colleague (who I get along well with enough to call my friend) really really loves Harry Potter and keep trying to excitedly talk about it with me... Despite me telling her I am not comfortable about that media. She keep insisting on removing the work from its author because it was her childhood and so important to her.

I just... How do you navigate it when it happens to you? I could really use some reference or perspective overall!

No pressure to answer, I realize it might be controversial subject that may bait I'll faith engagement so I totally understand if you don't respond

oh I'm happy to respond, no yeah when I posted about me blocking anons baiting for discourse I mean I frequently get single sentence asks like "do you support ______" and that's...someone not interested in actually talking to me, but instead doing a witchhunt "are you a Good Person or a Bad Person" to a stranger on the internet. like if someone asked "do you support jk rowling" no context no other discussion, it's weird, it's impersonal, it's not how I want to talk to people (and anyone who has followed me for any length of time would know the answer anyway?)

but yeah sorry getting to your question, that's really difficult to reverse out of that situation if you've already expressed past interest in it...with my coworkers who like hp I'll do a very obviously polite-but-not-part-of-the-group "oh that's fun!" when they talk about it e.g. dressing up as hp for halloween, and I guess I consistently give off enough of an impression of never having cared about it, which is WILD because yeah it used to be my life. so they don't try to get any deeper into it than surface level mentions with me.

but if you've already breached the whole topic of jkr herself...AND they're not responding to explicit requests to steer away the topic...? they fundamentally don't respect your boundaries regardless of the subject matter. like remove hp from the equation and if my coworker said they don't like talking about pirates of the caribbean for even the vaguest reason on earth and I continued to try to engage with them about it, through their discomfort, then it's not really about whether something can ever be redeemed as media or not, they just don't respect boundaries.

at that point that's really shitty if she's in your workspace but she's a kind enough person about everything else to be considered a friend...but if she IS a friend, then you should be able to literally say "sorry I need to step away, this isn't a topic I want to get into" when she brings it up and then. physically step away. like make the boundary an actual physical thing that gets enforced if she doesn't respect your wishes. it SHOULD start to click for her then, because maybe at this point she's learned subconsciously "oh, my friend will talk about my favorite thing with me if I ease them into it, and I can make them get over their discomfort, because they're still here talking to me, aren't they?"

be polite, verbalize the boundary, and physically walk away to enforce the boundary and do something else. you don't have to burn bridges that you don't want to burn, AND you don't have to put up with behavior you don't like!

#ask #anti hp

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boywithskull · 2 years

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A Brief Boris Pavlikovsky Analysis

It’s simultaneously hilarious and infuriating to me how at-odds with each other the interpretation of Boris by book fans is, versus the interpretations of people who have only seen the movie (admittedly, I’m talking specifically about Finn super-fans). I’ve seen an abundance of people who represent him as some sort of “bad boy,” who’s into the occasional drug-use, drinking and rule-breaking - an notion which, to be fair, is perpetuated by the movie. In reality, Boris’ character is so much more complex, and I’d be willing to bet that people who love the idea of him as a “bad boy” would actually hate him in the book.

As I mentioned, Boris’s character is highly sanitised in the movie; he does drugs, but we don’t see countless sequences of him and Theo frequently using hard drugs. He drinks, but not in the same way as his book counterpart, who drinks beer like it’s water, and spends every other afternoon getting wasted with Theo. He’s both physically and verbally violent, such as his use of the n-word and certain scenes in which he hits his Kotku or is violent toward Theo in the pool. He’s incredibly intelligent, but he’s brash, his moods swing, and he can be aggressive. Unlike in the movie, book Boris is not always likeable, but he still comes off as sympathetic, and this is the core of his character.

Boris is primarily characterised by love and optimism. In the closing moments of the novel, Theo reaches the revelation that “Nature (meaning death) always wins but that doesn’t mean we have to bow and grovel to it.” Boris shares many of the same traumas as Theo, and has lived an even more unstable life, dealing with a physically abusive and neglectful father and frequent moves across the globe. Unlike Theo, however, who is enslaved by such traumas until adulthood, Boris understands this sentiment even as a youth. Him and Theo represent antithetical ways in which to deal with trauma: Theo, who refuses to move on and lets it consume him, and Boris, who lives in the moment, moment-to-moment, never surrendering love and optimism. He embodies the very philosophy that takes Theo years to understand.

Of course, that doesn’t mean all of his actions are inherently good, but this only contributes to the complexity of his character. His excessive drug use is bad for obvious reasons, he’s not always a good judge of character (i.e. his fondness for Larry), and he’s made to live with the consequences of his impulsive actions (stealing the painting and losing Theo, for instance). But as Boris himself states, “as long as I am acting out of love, I feel I am doing the best I know how.” And this is true: he risks everything to get the painting back, he comforts Theo in Vegas in the only way he knows how, he admits that he’ll never quit drugs until it kills him, he’s impulsive, he loving, he’s optimistic, and he’s human. This is what movie stans who only view him as bad boy Finn Wolfhard are missing out on. This is why I always recommend the book to people. This is why Boris Pavlikovsky remains one of my favourite literary characters to date.

2024 edit: obviously there’s nothing wrong with having discovered TGF through Finn, but the book is absolutely amazing and should be read and appreciated on its own terms too 🙏 You will not regret it

#the goldfinch #the goldfinch analysis #the goldfinch meta #boris pavlikovsky #boris pavlikovsky analysis #meta #book analysis #tgf #theo decker #boreo #boreo meta #donna tartt

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palepersonaturtle · 11 months

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Rewatching some scenes of Shinyu and Hongjo and i have to say their realtionship progression after they started dating in ep 11 is so well written i mean yes it is not perfect but it is near perfect for me.

Especially the fact that it is not only that they are in love with each other but there is desire/passion(sexual) in between them which is expressed not only by their actions but also by their words which imo many kdramas lack in that part. And i am glad that the writers didnt shy away in showing us the sexual tension between the couple in their realtionship.

And it is right from ep4 okay when shinyu was like "if it is not kiss that can break the curse then is it...?" Shinyu was down bad horny okay.

One more example is that noncon kiss in ep7. I mean yes that was problematic and he deserved to be punched. But he was eager to show his feelings and desire to hongjo and wanted to know how she felt about him. Also his imaginary kiss and bed scene

And most importantly this desire was mutual. Hongjo was attracted to him too. She very much gave into that kiss in ep6 but alas shinyu slept. She was frustrated. The next day she is like "you were terrible at it"

And it gets more interesting when start dating

They are comfortable enough to sleep in the same bed the same night they get into relationship. Hong jo very much wanted to be with him you can see how she was frustrated when he didnt come to her room. Also love the way Shinyu was testing the waters with the whole "if you say another word i wont stay still..." dialogue. See she was shy but not scared of it.

And throughout ep11 and ep12 we can see that their is a mutual sexual tension between them. Also i love how Hong jo is able to show her desire too. She actively asks kisses from him, tries to seduce him in his office which shows that being single all through her doesnt mean she has to be naive in the physical intimacy part of their relationship. Yes as her first time in a relationship she gets shy and giddy but she has desires and she is very much aware about it too.

About, their breakup, i know people were like there comes the noble idiocy of ep13 but i actually enjoyed it. It is the way they showcased their longing for each other. Particularly, when shinyu gets drunk. It is the way he hugged her, nuzzled into her neck and smelled her. He not only missed her emotionally but also missed their hugs and kisses. And same for hong jo too that little smile she gives before being sad again and the way she gave into that hug. She indulges him not only for him but also for herself.

And so for me their reunion was much more sweeter and earned because the curse is gone now the main barrier between their relationship.

That spiderman kiss on the couch. Many people are like hong jo got shy. But i personally felt that she (and him too btw) actually was so turned on at that point that if she hadnt stopped it would have escalated into some thing more and which wasnt good for shinyu since he was injured. Same when they were sleeping together, look at the way hong jo is smiling and shinyu's gaze lingers on her lips.

Now on to the main lovemaking scene. That was planned mutually by them okay i mean not verbally but they both knew what was gonna happen and they both wanted it. Their phone conversation says it all. Also the way he was like "take your time to change" and then she comes wearing his white shirt when could have wore any comfortable tshirt of his. They didnt knew it was gonna happen right at that moment but tgey knew they knew that this was the night. And i loved that because it was consensual and it wasnt just heat of the moment. It felt very much earned and sweeter.

And throughout ep16 we can see that how much they both enjoy the physical intimacy and are pretty much normal about it now. Him saying that he cannot sleep w/o her. She jumping on him taking charge. It all feels natural with them

Lastly, it also shows the contrast with the relationship shinyu had with nayeon. You see he never felt any attraction towards her that he never felt the need to even hold her hands.

#this got very long #had to say it because this was something new that i felt in a kdrama #also because i think love and desire can coexist and that there is no need to shy away about it #shinyu x hongjo #they are soft chaotic cute they are simps losers down bad for e/o but they are also sexy and passionate #they are so couple coded #jang shin yu #lee hong jo #destined with you #sorry for the typos

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salted-caramel-tea · 6 months

Note

Are you fully removing yourself from dtblr now?

i’ve made a post with a brief summary of my thoughts and feelings right now but ur not the only person to ask so ill make another . the short answer is not really . long answer under the cut. we’re actually getting into my whole mental breakdown as well so tw for graphic desc of sa

i just need some time to figure things out . i know i sound like a broken record saying it but sa is not an easy topic to deal with for me personally . im aware that the situation was somewhat blown out of proportion and it doesn’t actually compare to the genuine coercion and force i experienced but the past few days have been heavy .

a lot of it is because of the frequency, i am so happy that people have been comfort so enough to come forward about their experiences but there has been a complete lack of nuance regarding all of these situations it’s been very reactionary and coming online seeing never ending untagged borderline graphic descriptions of sexual assault or rape affects me physically . it’s been 3 years and i still experience physical symptoms after being triggered . my ears start ringing, i get dizzy and out of breath and nauseous and i cry . bc i remember how terrible i felt . and nuts something that still affects my relationships to this day.

one thing about it is that i can really sympathise with caiti . our cases are different, i verbally and physically refused physical advances from my abuser but after it happened i found myself trying to justify it because I invited him to watch a movie with me I didn’t push him away enough and someone was interested in me!! at least someone was interested in me . and it’s why i have a hard time regarding the ‘regret’ comments . because i don’t know that if people knew my story they’d say i was just regretting being intimate with him and stating that because i now felt violated after regretting the experience it didn’t mean i was violated on the night . i don’t think my abuser knows what he did to me . but it doesn’t change the fact that he forced me into that situation . i also want to say i don’t really consider touching someone’s waist sexual assault . it can be a form of unwanted physical contact that makes you uncomfortable but the act unfollowed by any sexual contact is not sexual assault . i do believe her feelings are real however and i can sympathise with that delayed fear and discomfort .

this is not an isolated incident as i’m sure we are all aware . for as long as dtblr has been around there have been controversies of sex crime. a lot of them have been faked, we all remember the period of 2021-22 where there was a new burner account every week accusing a member of the dteam of sa until bbh threatened legal action against one of them . and then there was the drituation . although these were faked, they contained extremely triggering details of grooming and assault. i needed time away then too . i’ve said this through every drummy ache but nothing is worth our physical and mental suffering. there is no creator no person that i would allow myself to suffer for .

the internet is reactionary. people will say things and blow things out of proportion to further their moral activity even if it means deliberately spreading triggering misinformation as a punch in the gut to make people agree . i’m not talking about the victims right now but rather the reactions from fans . over the past few weeks we’ve seen allegations of varying degrees aligned in badness with one another when that simply isn’t the case . sensationalising trauma is the new in thing and it prevents private conversations where there should be some and it’s encouraged by fans online so they can get a fix of their daily drama .and i understand it’s because it’s involving large creators and people want to spread awareness of their behaviour but the line has to be drawn somewhere between what should be public and private matters and there has been a mix of both in the past few weeks .

this need to ‘take down’ someone as opposed to discussing matters in a private setting to come to an understanding of the events without the influence of the public has created a spectacle of sexual assault. anything that is mildly uncomfortable or inappropriate is being labelled as on par with sexual abuse or rape which is not the case at all and it’s creating environments that are actively harmful to survivors by having their traumas brought up where it isn’t necessary or equating people who have made mistakes or bad decisions to their abusers .

this is something that has been ongoing since 2020 and will continue to happen with varying degrees of validity behind these comments and its up to us as viewers to decide what’s real and fake depending on the evidence before us but we don’t know what’s been taken out of context what’s been fabricated what’s straight up slander vs what is real admissions of harmful behaviour and its exhausting to wade through . it might seem selfish that i’m kind of saying i don’t want to know about other peoples sa experiences but i dont . i don’t want to have to wade through pages upon pages of details or hours upon hours of proof to accuse or debunk someone of a topic that physically affects me .

i’ve already said i’m not becoming an anti i hold no serious denouncement of the dteam at all but i need to consider fandom dynamics and if i am willing to deal with these accusations over and over again because we all know it’s not going away . dream had people ADMIT they faked his grooming allegations and it’s still held against him . george did make someone uncomfortable and it’s not up to me to dictate caitis feelings on that but george’s perspective does put into play a perspective of body language that is being weaponised to jump to sa rather than bad communication and awareness of the situation . it’s a lot . and i need time to get myself into a better headspace and figure out if im willing to be involve in further reference of these events .

and also fuck quackity bc ppl are using the past few days to say oh quackity is the only good one left as if he’s not literally being monitored by international labour unions

im adding on a few things . i am uncomfortable with the way some people have been making light of the whole situations here . there’s borderline (fully) misogynistic posts flying around that are being shared as jokes and memes but it really diminishes the weight of some of the situations at hand and as well as the very real women discussing their situations . im not calling anyone out bc this is has been shared all over my dash so its clear that this is just a preference of mine that i personally find discomforting but i hate the way it makes me feel seeing posts relating abuse of women to homosexuality even though it is in a joking manner it just made me really uncomfortable .

im also tired of the words abuse and assault being thrown around without grounded evidence. there has been no sexual situations as far as we are aware . there has been no sexual contact as far as we are aware . there needs to be distinctions between what is discomfort or creepy and what is exploitation or abuse . i’ve been around lots of creepy guys but only one has sexually assaulted me . throwing words around without any substance behind them diminishes the value of the word until people see it as just another insult . by insinuating touching someone’s waist, although uncomfortable to caiti where she was unsure how to address she did not want that to happen, is a form of sexual assault it creates a form of radicalism of sexual abuse where it becomes is every uncomfortable touch a sex crime? no it’s not. it’s going to trivialise what it means to have been assaulted and being invalidation to victims from wider audiences with lines like ‘let me guess a guy touched your shoulder and you screamed assault’ . we are already blamed for what happened to us and to further trivialise it by mislabelling your discomfort and bad experiences as abusive or exploitative it’s providing a potential fan to those flames . and that’s why i say although i believe caiti is valid in the way she feels that her discomfort and delayed trauma is valid i do not believe she was a victim of a sex crime but rather she was in a position where she was made uncomfortable by a creepy older guy .

im also just so fucking tired to logging on to sex scandals of the dream team where everyone was 18+ and no sex occurred because at that point it’s just digging up anything you can to prove someone else’s hypothesis to be semi reality .

george did fuck up . he made a very young woman uncomfortable and should have prioritised reaching out to her to apologise for her discomfort and subsequent emotional weight instead of an extremely defensive take that, yes, can provide further situation but ultimately comes off as a take disregarding of the very real feelings that caiti was experiencing in order to prove people wrong . he is allowed to defend himself but the emotional impact on caiti should have been a lot better acknowledged . i just wanted to make sure that people were aware that despite the fact i do not think george is a sexual predator and that it is a phrase being extremely abused by the internet, i do believe he did something wrong in this situation .

this whole thing is messy and complicated and exhausting and punz needs to shut the fuck up nobody cares

#tw sa mention #tw sa

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creepylittlelady · 10 months

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My own two cents on the Fanon vs Canon argument [Mainly just me defending fanon]

Alright, so I have a history with the Creepypasta fandom. I was sadly too into MLP and Vocaloids to be all that into it in 2013-2015, but I did join in 2016 and spent majority of my childhood years in the Creepypasta fandom. Unfortunately after lockdown ended I decided to try a hand at forcing myself to grow up, which was a very miserable time littered with very very bad memories.

This year I've gone from daydreaming about the Creepypastas but refusing to interact with the fandom or any content to yk, interacting with all of you guys again. I really missed this fandom as these edgy fictional serial killers really defined who I am now.

However one thing that I can clearly remember very very well about the Creepypasta fandom is its knack for having a fuck ton of arguments with each other, specifically one; which one is better, Fanon or Canon?

Now, I remember when I was younger the Creepypasta fandom was more fanon-centric, the mansion, Slenderdad, Emo sadboy Jeff and Waffles Toby were staples. However nowadays I've seen a lot of influx of more 'canon' content; more disturbing headcanons, the characters not being that nice to each other, no slendermansion, just pure old canonicity.

I really enjoy that side of the fandom, I really really do. However I've actually seen a fair share of slander for the fanon side, about how they're mischaracterised a lot of characters over the years and ruined a lot of good Creepypastas with their incessant flanderising. However, I sort of disagree.

You see, whilst Creepypastas are also entertaining to toy around with in their more canon forms, what exactly is wrong with headcanoning the creepypastas in a more light-hearted way? Although we can all agree that none of these guys would EVER withstand being within a mile each other, and that Slenderman wouldn't ever be that nice (OH GOD I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY ABOUT THIS TOPIC), that the Proxies don't exist in the first place, it's still fun. It's got a comfort and entertainment value that canon Creepypasta just doesn't have.

It's cool and interesting sure; but you have to admit it's just not as charming as the idea of all of these supernatural beings and Serial Killers all living in a home together ran by an exhausted faceless Eldritch. As someone who was a very lonely child and to this day lives with abusive parents, this concept means so much more to me than the idea of canon Creepypasta ever did.

Keep in mind, this fandom is OLD. Not ancient, like the Harry Potter fandom (shit is it still kicking?), but most of the fans do tend to be people who've grown up alongside these characters. Although I am still pretty young I've been a Creepypasta fan since I was a young child too, and lemme tell you that the found family aspect of things is just simply more nostalgic. And lemme tell you, no matter what other better concepts there are, NOTHING beats nostalgia.

As someone who prefers the fanon side a bit more than the canon side, it's just stupid fun and that's the charm of it.

Also, it's kind of odd to try and make Creepypasta more 'serious' considering that the whole point of the Creepypasta fans and the Creepypastas themselves is that they're just edgy OCs made by teenagers? I can get the more serious side such as Marble Hornets and most Slenderverse ARGs, but you have to admit, it's pretty damn odd to try and make Creepypasta this serious thing when I don't think it was ever really meant to be that way.

Also, the canon side does its own form of flanderising too. You really mean to tell me that Ticci Toby will abuse you? I get the fact that people are trying to bring awareness to the fact that these guys are Serial Killers and aren't your surrogate parents and siblings, but genuinely strange lengths SOME (KEYWORD) people will go to to prove that point is insane. Considering Toby's family history, do you believe that he will actually physically and verbally abuse you if you were in a relationship with him?

He's mentally unstable sure, but he's not an abuser because of that. I can understand that viewpoint for Laughing Jack and Jeff the Killer, but for most of the others I just don't see it. I can also see it for Slenderman but yk HE DOESN'T HAVE A CANON.

Also this post isn't just fully defending fanon; it's had it's nasty little mistakes (*cough cough* FANON MASKY *cough cough*), and I definitely won't defend that.

TL;DR/Conclusion: Fanon and Canon are both great, you don't need to attack each other over it, and especially no need to attack those who seek comfort in the fanon side. Creepypasta is a fandom of edginess and we should be celebrating that instead of trying to turn away from it and mold it into something it just ISNT.

Thanks for reading!

#littlelady #creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #slenderman #ben drowned #jeff the killer #fanon vs canon #ticci toby #slender proxy #slenderverse #old fandom #dead fandom

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anaslair · 8 months

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I’m a straight Bengali girl (daughter of Aphrodite), who’s a little chubby and has a lot of acne scars (both of which I’m insecure about, though, I’ve been staring to like my acne scars lately). I wear glasses and without them, the world around me is very blurry. I’m pretty shy and nervous, so I sort of have trouble speaking to strangers or people I don’t know well. But once I’m comfortable around you and we mutually see each other as friends, I’m able to show you my chaotic side and feel comfortable saying some pretty wild things. I also make quite a few sexual jokes. Though I am more comfortable to speak freely with my friends, if I’m in a relatively big group that consists of my friends, I get really nervous speaking in front of all of them, so I opt to talk to individuals rather than the collective. I crave for physical affection but I never ask for it because I’ll feel bad if I get rejected of such, so I’ll wait til someone decide to give me affection. I’m a huge romantic fan and love reading romance stories or fanfic, and I love men who are completely obsessed with you. If I’m going to be honest, I feel more attracted to depressed or sad men rather than happy or cheerful men. I love eating food, but don’t really like eating in front of people much cause I always feel like I’m being judge for the way I eat even if that’s not actually the case. I can’t help it, so I prefer to eat alone. My favourite food is chicken curry and rice! I have trouble keeping eye contact so I usually look somewhere else while talking to people, but I do occasionally (while in the conversation) do make eye contact. There are times where it takes time for my brain to process some situations or dialogue, and I have an awfully memory. I also hate reading out load cause my brain takes time to process the words on the paper for me to read out load, so it makes me say the words out load slowly and almost choppy, you know? I love my friends very much and always love to hang out with them, even if we are simply in a room together only doing our own thing. I just like being in their presence. Though, once my social battery runs out, I’d like to be alone in my room (though, I I have a romantic partner, I wouldn’t mind them being with me). I’m always open to be their for my friends if they are down and listen to their problems, but not good at verbally comforting them, so I’m open for providing them physical comfort such as a hug or rubbing their back if that’s what they want. If I don’t anything embarrassing, I will constantly think about the moment for years and best myself over it and mentally redo that whole conversation or action in a way better way that I should have done to have not embarrassed myself earlier, you know? I very kind and often give people the benefit of the doubt, and I’m sort of a pushover, but I’m still able to say no to situations that make me uncomfortable.

I love reading, drawing, and creating ocs and world building. I’m such a mythology nerd, especially when it comes to Greek mythology (I have many books about these myths). I absolutely hate bugs and because of them, I hate being in forests and such cause I always get swarmed by them. I’m also afraid of the dark, so when I sleep, I leave my door open and the hallway light on.

My matchups are usually long like this so that’s why they may take a little while to come out 🥸 pls bear with me guys 🫶

Hope you like it anon!! Have a great day and tysm for requesting!!! <3

I match you with…

Luke Castellan!!

(Let’s all collectively join hands and pretend he didn’t die 🫰)

After the second titan war was officially over, Luke went through a lot before finally being able to return to camp

He did literally stab himself to end Kronos’s reign of terror, so after a long fight discussion amongst the gods, it was decided he should be given a second chance at life. A brand new start

Not without cleaning his mess first though. He was assigned by the gods to send a load of monsters he recruited for Kronos back to Tartarus, while simultaneously healing from his fatal wound

Even under Apollo’s direct care, the injury left a huge, nasty scar on his body

Honestly, he preferred facing whatever punishment Hades had for him in the Underworld than helping any god. But he owed everyone (specially Annabeth and Thalia, his real family) an apology and to make things right

So he killed a shitload of monsters, (complained the whole time)

When he finally got back to camp, he almost couldn’t believe how much it had changed. The place was PACKED with new campers (and they were not all cramped in his cabin like usual 😱)

And there were twice as many cabins too??? for the smaller gods???

Was he at the right place?😀 Was he actually dead?🧍‍♂️

Took a lot of explaining for him to believe he wasn’t

The thought of demigods not having to go through what he went through was incredible, but hard to believe

A bit bittersweet for him too

On top of that, it took a lot of time and effort to regain everyone’s trust on him

Even with all the new space available in the Hermes cabin, he had to sleep on the ground for a long time before his siblings let him have a bed 💀

He had to prove himself for a long time before everyone started opening up to him again

Slowly but surely, it started to happen!! Annabeth and most of the campers got back to speaking terms with him, Thalia visited sometimes and Percy was still a little sus every time they interacted (specially when Annabeth was in the room🤷‍♀️) but it eventually got better

It wasn’t the same as before of course, which made him feel…lonely most of the time. It wasn’t perfect, but he was grateful for at least not being completely ignored

Travis and Connor even stole a new pillow for him after a while of him sleeping without any 👏

Soon enough, life was almost normal again (as normal as a demigod’s life could get)

He did live with an imense sense of guilt and had recurring nightmares about what happened, accompanied with sharp pains on his chest, right where he stabbed himself

But it was a small price to pay for all the pain he caused, he thought

Eventually, he became head counselor of the Herme’s cabin again and Chiron gave him permission to teach sword lessons to the newest campers.

Life was as good as it could get for him, for sure

Though it definitely got a million times better with you in it

You were one of the new campers, practically Luke’s age when you arrived, which got yourself urgent self defense lessons with Mr. Castellan himself

He was the ideal person for the job, being the best swordsman on camp and all

Chiron also knew Luke had a way of making newcomers feel welcomed, being used to do it with practically every new kid in camp before the war

So, as Luke made his way to your first lesson, he tried to come up with a way to politely ask you how you survived all this time without proper training-

Only to give it up as soon as he laid his eyes on you

Of course you were a daughter of Aphrodite, you were drop dead gorgeous. Probably survived all this time outside camp by using the power her kids inherited, charmspeak

All of that was going through his head while he intensely stared at you without saying a word 🗿

Making you nervously eye him back 👁️👁️

Noticing you were getting anxious, he snapped out of it, the very tip of his ears getting slightly red

Quickly introducing himself as your new self defense teacher, he offered a hand for you to shake

To which you did after a bit of an awkward pause, nodding at his words. He seemed like a confident, nice guy

He took it you were a bit shy so he made sure to try and not to make you uncomfortable while teaching you some basic sword moves and techniques

You were doing your best to keep up but honestly felt like straight up dying everytime Luke asked you to repeat a move

The sword was heavy and the afternoon was hot, making you sweat profusely

That’s when everything went downhill :)

Your glasses just wouldn’t stay still in your face, the sweat making them slip down your nose every time you tried a new move

Right as you were about to swing your sword for the millionth time, your glasses fully fell off your face, making you flail the big weapon around uncontrollably

Coincidentally chopping a good amount of Chiron’s tail off, who was just passing by to check on your progress

Chiron promised he needed a new trim anyway, but that didn’t stop you from apologizing almost a thousand times and sitting down with your face buried in your hands

The situation amused Luke profusely, but he could also tell you were seriously beating yourself up about it

So after thinking for a while, he gently tapped you on the arm, showing you small scar he had on his forearm

He told you it was from his first ever sword lesson, but it wasn’t caused by a sword

When you gave him a confused look, he told you it was a consequence of accidentally poking a Pegasus’s bottom with a sharp weapon

You tried not to, but you laughed right at his face

Which made Luke smile as well, you had a cute laugh

After that, you slowly started opening up to your sword teacher, who actually got attached to you pretty quickly

Y’alls friendship was honestly precious oml, he absolutely LIVED for the fact that you were completely unhinged when y’all were alone, which got both of you a lot of inside jokes

When you first made a sexual joke in front of him he was completely shook

You were in the middle of training, making him accidentally cut a whole training doll in half after you said it

Who knew that something like that could come out of a shy person like yourself

He laughed and threw a dirty joke right back at you, but his ears were completely red in the process

The first time he had one of his pain streaks next to you he got really stressed out, not really wanting to talk about the origin of his injury

Partially because it was tremendously hard for him to talk about his past, but also because he was afraid you’d hate him for it

But you never pressured him to say anything, just sat beside him with a hand on his back for support, furrowed brows in concern as you waited for his pain to pass

He absolutely adored you for that

He didn’t feel alone anymore

He’s a naturally attentive person so he can always tell when you’re uncomfortable in social situations, always making sure that everything you’re saying is getting the correct amount of attention, even if he was the only one listening to it

Everyone knew he kind of had a soft spot for you (totally unrelated to the crush he was developing on you)

He always went easy on you at sparring lessons, just to absolutely humiliate whoever was next against him by winning in seconds

He sneaked food into your cabin when you absolutely could not stand eating with everyone else at the dining pavilion

(anyone else would probably get caught in the act and get absolutely wrecked by the harpies, but he was a son of the god of thieves so 😋)

Kept you close during capture the flag, not only to keep an eye on you but also because he absolutely LIVED for the fact that you were more scared of the bugs than the monsters who lived inside the woods

You dealt with the monsters and he jabbed all the bugs on the way, you made a pretty good team

It was pretty obvious he had a thing for you, everyone knew about it but you apparently

I mean, he stole got you a whole deck of mythomagic cards because he knew you were totally obsessed with mythology, the guy was pretty much down bad for you pls 😩

And honestly, you felt the exact same way

It was pretty clear in the way your face got full on red every time he had any type of physical contact with you

He adored it and absolutely did it on purpose just to get a reaction out of you

He wanted to let you know how he felt, he really did

But on top of not wanting to risk your friendship, he was deathly afraid you’d absolutely despise him after you found out about his past

It was only a matter of time anyway, but he was going to avoid it as much as he could

Although you found out way sooner and it went WAY better than he expected

It was a warm night and you were awfully quiet, more than usual

It wasn’t because your social battery went out. No… he knew something was up by the way you hugged yourself tightly, touching your face from time to time

He asked if you wanted to hang out by the beach for a bit, to which you silently agreed

Y’all sat in silence for a while, Luke giving you concerned side eyes from time to time

He eventually spoke up, saying you could talk to him about anything you wanted to, he’d listen

Your eyes watered a bit. You breathed out and eventually told him that some days, you had a bit of trouble accepting your current weight and your acne scars

You told him you were working on it but some days were harder than others

Honestly, he was bamboozled lol

He could never imagine someone as beautiful as you had those kind of insecurities

Before even thinking about it, he said you were absolutely perfect in his eyes

It was the first thing he thought when he met you actually

You almost choked on air bro WHAT

Your face was COMPLETELY red, about to explode🚨

Ears fully red after realizing how he slipped, he quickly continued, telling you that he also understood how you felt

He touched the scar he had on his face, lowering his hand to touch the one on his chest right after

You knew something bad had happened to him. But you also knew he had to tell you on his own terms

You just softly repeated what he told you

“You can talk to me about anything you want to, I’ll listen”

His eyes met yours and you were surprised by how much sadness they held in that moment

He shifted his gaze from you to the sand, taking handfulls of it just to let it fall from his fingers as he told you about his past

He told you everything

“You can… cut contact with me if you want to, I’ll understand-“

He was suddenly interrupted by you hugging him

He was surprised to say the least, arms slowly closing around you after some time as he let out a shaky breath

You both sat like that for a while before you told him that none of what he said changed the way you felt about him, everyone deserved a second chance

Wait

The way… you felt about him?

Oop

He pulled apart from you gently, still holding you close in front of him

“Exactly how do you feel about me?”

You had no choice but to confess, face fully red and straight up stuttering the whole time

He smile was HUGE oh my gods that little shit was enjoying every second of it

When you finished, you were trembling a bit, afraid you just ruined the best friendship you ever had

Imagine your surprise when he slowly leaned in, kissing you

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson books #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson imagine #the heroes of olympus #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #chalice of the gods #percy series #matchups #fanfic #fanfiction

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