Effy Freddie Novels & Stories

Safey said and smiled to us. “I want the red drink!” Jeselle uttered and reached to get the red drink. “Blue!” Kriselle then added, even stretching her arm into the thin air. My bestfriend and I looked at each other and shook our heads upon their giddiness. We even laughed to ourselves, seeing how one of them almost tripped on the table because of their clumsy nature. I reached out my hand to grab the green drink. “As usual, your favorite color,” Safey commented, rolling her eyes.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone to stop by.” “Don’t worry, we just came to bring you something.” Elijah’s words confused me a bit because neither of them were carrying anything, but the mysterious smirk on their faces told me they had something planned. “What is it?” I crossed my arms over my thin top while both of them moved apart, separating their bodies so that there was an opening in the doorway. I was even more curious now. “Guys, what’s going o-,” My words fell silently off my lips as Eladia came into view. The scratches were bandaged on her face and her wrist looked like it had been wrapped in something.

"Emma, I saw the video of Hunter fighting last night. What happened? Are you okay?" "Yeah, I'm fine, Freddie. And don't ask me to go to the Aftershock auditions today. I am not feeling well." Freddie, of all people, understands teen parties. He practically encourages me to attend them for fame, followers, and friends. The three 'Fs' I am supposed to care about. Freddie never thinks about the fourth 'F' for fuck. As in, I don't give a fuck today, Freddie. "Okay, I will let Model Perfect know you aren't feeling well. What are we sick with today?"

The customer before me smirked, making my stomach turn. “No. I don’t.” I turned away coldly, holding the tray to my chest. “What’s your name first?” He held my wrist back. The forced gentleness in his tone made me cringe. I eyed him straight. I knew he wouldn’t let me go if I didn't give him my name. So I heaved a deep sigh and spoke. “Euphoria.” “Euphoria?” Rose, one of the strippers gaped as soon as I uttered my name.

I tell me and he chuckles as he cuts into it offering me the first bite, I open my mouth wide as he puts the fork with the waffle in my mouth, I grab it with my teeth as I chew it, flavors burst in my mouth, I closed my eyes as I let out a loud moan savoring the taste. "fuck" Ares whispers and I snap my eyes opened as I stare at his darken expression. I lick my lips innocently as I bat my lashes at him "you okay?" I ask and he shakes his head grumbling under his breathe as he digs into his waffles. I smile as I do the same.

This man can be her subject tonight for her experiment. Maybe he is better than the candy daddy and he can be her new daddy. Can she call him whiskey daddy? Maybe?? Inner world cringe. Maybe she is drunk at all. Candace moans and grinds harder onto his length as he squeezes her soft breast. He keeps humming against their kiss and it makes her wet more. As if they are all alone on that dance floor, their bodies press onto each other more with every second. The position gets harder for Candace to keep kissing as her back pressed onto his front, but she doesn't care. She turns her head to her right as much as she can and takes what she can take.

She placed it on the table in front of Freddie and I , bowed slightly and exited immediately. Freddie took a sip from his coffee. “ Hmmm! This is creamy.” He complimented, taking another longer sip. I drank from mine,a sensation of heat traveling down my esophagus, providing relief and ecstasy to my mind. “ Have you been able to uncover who his secret spy is?." Freddie asked, stirring his coffee.

“The day after they went, I found out the cops caught them, they tried running, and were shot on the spot.” Their images were etched on the back of my mind, too. Freddie’s dark hair, long and barely neat, covered half of his face anytime he let it down, so he tied it up with a band he picked off the floor. His hazel eyes were always sparkling with curiosity about how something was built, and most times, he would talk about how he would live when he finally became a CEO—how he loved suits. Funny Freddie was what I called him. “FF. That’s what I will call my company. Thank you, Aleron.” His boyish voice resounded in my head.

“It'll be fine. I'm sure they're just happy to see me back in country.” He didn't say it like he believed it. He sounded like he was trying to convince me that the apocalypse wouldn't be so bad. That there were going to be perks of a hellfire landscape. I looked down at my shoes, trying very hard not to panic or cry. The last thing I needed was to leave the store with streaky mascara and blotchy skin. “Hey, Zoey.” Freddie's voice was light and friendly. I didn't look up. Suddenly, his face filled my vision. He was down on his knees, looking up at me with a playful smile.

“We really haven't.” “We should remedy that,” Freddie said, nudging my arm with a grin. I raised a brow. “What, like right now?” “No time like the present.” He leaned back against the railing like this had been his spot all night. “Cassie Monroe. The girl who broadcasts like a pro and takes cherry slushie showers like a champ.” I narrowed my eyes. “You mean the slushie you schemed?” He held up both hands, mock-innocent. “Allegedly.”