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dumpywrites · 9 months ago

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Cat-astrophe - Min Yoongi / Suga

Summary: Your pet cat keeps going to your neighbor’s apartment and it’s a problem.

Genre/tags: Fluff-ish, strangers to ???, minor mention of anxiety.

Pairing: Yoongi x she/her reader

a/n: cus we're all soft for long haired Yoongi, right? hehe

It had been officially a month since you had moved to a new apartment place. You loved the new place honestly. It was cozy and the neighborhood looked nice. There were many convenience store nearby and the street was always still busy until late at night, making you feel a little bit of secure when coming home late.

While the place was nice it had one tiny downside. It was rather on the far side from your workplace. It took you an hour of bus ride just to get home from the office, so some days could be more tiring than others. And today was one of those tiring days.

It was around nine at night on a Monday. Having to work overtime for the deadline and missed the bus, really dreaded you out. You were both tired and hungry, arriving home only to find that your pet cat was missing. It really just was not your day.

To say you were panicking would be a bit of an understatement. Cookie was barely a four month-old cat and had a very tiny body. All the negative possibilities start filling your head and you were horrified by all of them. Not to mention how it was basically forbidden to bring pets in the apartment complex. It was one of the policies but you couldn't help it since Cookie was a rescue.

When you arrived at your apartment lobby with a cat snack on your hand, there wasn’t that many people there. You walked past a guy by the front desk, who had medium-length black locks and fair skin, with headphones dangling on his neck. You began to call your pet’s name as soon as you were outside the lobby, but suddenly you felt a light tap on your shoulder.

“Are you looking for a small black Bombay cat?” It was the same guy who just walked past you.

“Oh my god, I am! Have you seen him???” You said, your voice was a little bit shaky.

“He’s in my place, I’m on the seventh.”

“Oh, me too!”

“I know.”

“Oh.” You said, surprised at how stoic he sounded saying that, but didn’t further question him on it. “I’m so sorry for bothering you, can I go get him now?”

“Sure, I was just gonna go up as well.”

When you both entered the elevator, you made a mental note to ask his name or at least introduce yourself. He was a neighbor after all. It was pretty silent inside the lift and you just hoped he didn’t hear your stomach rumbling ever so slightly. You took a deep breath, bearing the hunger for a little while.

When the elevator door opened you followed him from behind as he led you to his door. When he stopped at his front door, your eyes were widened in shock.

“You live next to me?!”

“Yeah.” He said casually and unlocked the door. "I've seen you multiple times."

You chose to not further question and followed him but stopped when you had only took two steps in, because technically, the homeowner had not really officially permit you to come in. The guy seemed to notice how you just stood awkwardly and looked back.

“You can sit down for a sec, I’ll go get him.”

“Oh, right… yeah. Thank you.” You said awkwardly and walked to sit on his couch.

A few seconds later the man came back with your cat in his embrace. Cookie was clinging on his tshirt before he tugged him and gave him onto your lap.

“Cookie!” You called, almost teary.

“I think he jumped from your balcony to mine. Make sure to close your balcony door next time.”

“Thank you so much, I owe you… uh…”

“Yoongi.”

“Thank you, Yoongi.” You repeated and introduced yourself in return. “I’m Y/N, and if you ever need anything please let me now.” You said as you stood up, already making your way out.

“Also, thank you for not reporting it…”

“No problem.” Was all the guy said and by this point you figured he was not much of a talker.

You bid your goodbye to your neighbor, which only gained a small nod before he closed the door on you. You walked to your door and let Cookie down as soon as you got inside. Sighing deeply, you began to feel your stomach rumble again, this time it rumbled quite loudly. Your feet were aching from standing on the bus and now your body finally got on how tired you were.

Cookie meowed and immediately went to his cat bed and laid down. You sighed and smiled at the small creature.

“You little rascal… you’re lucky I love you.”

You then went to your kitchen to cook yourself some instant ramen.

The next day you went to work and had to take another overtime. Unfortunately you had to for the rest of the week until your current project was done. It was exhausting but you had to make it and mostly thinking about the bonus pay from it helped quite a bit. You spent the next few days the same, repeating the schedules, and the tiring work.

It was almost ten at night that you arrived home and found out Cookie had gone missing again. For some reason your first instinct was to knock on your next door, in hope the neighbor who once helped you, could lend you a hand again, and hoping maybe Cookie just ran to his place again instead of being gone somewhere where it wasn't safe for him.

You knocked on the door and didn’t get immediate answer. You waited for what felt like five minutes, before the door opened and you were greeted with the sight of your neighbor with wet hair. He had a small white towel around his neck and the hoop earring that you saw him with before was absent. His skin looked glowing, you probably needed to ask about his skin care routine later.

“So sorry to interrupt you, I was wondering if Cookie might have gone to your place again?”

“He’s right there on the couch.” He casually pointed. His expression was straight and had you wondering if he did not mind it, bothered, or simply didn’t care.

You slowly walked to approach your cat and bent down to its level. “Cookie, you need to stop this…” You tapped the cat's nose, as if scolding the poor cat would do anything.

“He jumped to my balcony again, did you forget to close the door?”

“But I made sure to close it this morning…” You looked at your neighbor, who walked closer to inspect the cat.

“I think he knows how to turn door knobs, since he’s quite a jumper. You need to lock the door.”

“I can’t believe this little demon…” You sighed, fingers still stroking the purring cat.

“He’s… alright.”

You were slightly taken aback by the response and looked up to him, but much to your disappointment, his expression still looked the same. You were about to get up and excuse yourself, but you notice a small steel bowl under his dining table, half full with what you assumed to be cat milk (I mean, it would be weird if it was his, duh!).

“You also have a cat?”

His eyes followed yours. “Oh, that. I got it the first time Cookie came here, I figured he must be thirsty since he came in around noon time.”

“That’s… that’s very nice of you.” You looked at him and smiled. Somehow him addressing your cat by his name sounded lovely.

“You can have the rest of the milk if you want, since you’ve figured out how he escaped and all…”

“It’s okay, you can keep it! Just in case he ran into you again…” You chuckled but then stopped after realizing how that just sounded like you did not mind troubling him with your cat continuously. “I mean… I’m sorry, I’ll make sure he’ll never escape again.”

“It’s alright, I’ll keep the milk for now.” He paused for a second, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just in case.”

You looked at your neighbor and couldn’t help but to feel all warm inside. He seemed like a nice person and from the looks of it he also liked your cat.

“Thank you so much, Yoongi. I’ll be taking this little guy here then...” You smiled at him and stood up with Cookie in your arms.

“I got some dim sum…”

You looked at the guy questioningly.

“Do you maybe want some?”

“That’d be too much, it’s okay, you go ahead and eat.” You politely declined. Although you were hungry, you could bring yourself to bother your neighbor any more than what you had done.

“Have you eaten?”

“Y-yeah?” You asked, afraid you heard it wrong.

“Have you eaten?” He repeated. “If not, then I insist you take some.”

“I…” You wanted to lie, but at this point it would come off as rude if you refuse him again. “I actually haven’t. Thank you very much though, I feel so bad that you’re being this nice to me.”

“You can just eat them here.”

“I don’t wanna disturb—“ You were awkwardly cut by the sound of your stomach rumbling.

“You’re not disturbing me.” He cleared his throat and looked away.

That was embarrassing.

And that was how you ended up sitting down on your neighbor’s dining table, eating dim sums.

In silence.

This Yoongi guy really did not like conversation it seemed. He was sitting down on his couch and had turned the TV on. The volume was on but not quite loudly, and Cookie was on his lap, sleeping as he occasionally stroked the cat’s head softly. Funny that somehow you could see some resemblance of Yoongi with your cat.

“So… how long have you lived here?” You bit your bottom lip as you waited for his answer. You kind of regretted asking as soon as the words came out from your mouth, afraid it would be awkward.

“Around ten months or so.” He paused. “No, I think it’s been almost a year cause I spent two months overseas.”

“Really? What were you doing overseas?” You regretted asking again. Looking at how quiet Yoongi was, you didn’t want to ask too much or indulge into too much conversation, afraid it would be too much for him.

But much to your surprise, he answered. “I’m a producer. I was working for this artist and all the work had to be done in America.”

“Wow, that sounds amazing!” You said. At this point you no longer were sitting facing the table, but to him. “Who was the artist?”

“Uh… Halsey.” He replied while looking at the TV screen, seemingly to avoid your stare.

“Oh my god???” You gasped. “That’s incredible! So you’re like crazy talented?!”

“I’m alright…”

“You should show me some of your work someday!” You said enthusiastically. When Yoongi did not reply to it and stayed silent, you cursed yourself internally. “I mean compared to what I do that’s like really amazing.” You chuckled nervously.

“I’m sure you’re great at what you do.” He looked at you, a small smile was on his lips.

You realized it was the first time you saw him smile and it made your heart raced rather faster than usual. It was the first time you saw him with facial expression other than his usual poker face.

“I’m just a normal product designer at a very normal company.” You shrugged.

“Don’t downplay yourself like that. You work very hard.”

“Thanks…” You replied shyly.

After finishing your food, you got up and went to wash the dishes, which immediately got stopped by the homeowner. He politely told you to go back home and rest. Which again, you could not thank him more for.

You took your pet in your arms and said your goodbyes to your neighbor. Right when you arrived back in your place you came to realize something. Yoongi did not eat with you and there was only one portion of the food. While it could just meant he had already eaten beforehand, you felt giddy, thinking about another possibility. Was this a crush you sense forming? Frankly speaking, you could not care less. You were welcoming the possibility with open arms.

—

Friday finally came and you were ready to take it in. The days of working with your company project was going to an end, which meant you no longer need to work overtime after this. The thought of it put you in a very good mood.

This time right after arriving home, you walked to a nearby chicken restaurant and grab some not only for you, but also for your neighbor. You wanted to repay his kindness the past few days. After changing into some comfortable clothes, not to mention the multiple times you had to re-check the outfit in the mirror for some reason, you took your cat in your left hand and the food in the other. You knocked on your neighbor’s door hoping he was home.

And he was. You were greeted with his silence but he opened the door wider as soon as he saw your face without question. One thing that caught your eyes though was how he was dressed up like he was ready for a night out. He wasn’t in his usual sweatpants and baggy t-shirt, but instead in a ripped wide legged jeans and a light blue shirt, unbuttoned, with a plain white tee underneath. He looked handsome. And here you were, in your so-called comfy outfit that you were starting to regret.

“Before you ask, no, Cookie’s right here.” You smiled awkwardly as you raised the small cat in your hand for him to see. “I’m just here to drop by some chicken I got for you… as a thanks for your help these past few days.” You handed the plastic of food to him. “Alright, that’s all…”

He took the food from you hesitantly. “You don’t wanna come in?”

“Aren’t you going out or something?”

“I was… but you are here.” He said, sounding unsure.

“That’s ridiculous, why would I stop you from going out?”

“I was gonna go to your place…”

Your mouth formed a small O shape, unable to form a word. He was going to your place? But what for??? The butterflies in your stomach were having a blast.

“But you’re all dressed up…”

“I was gonna change back.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair, which made you gulped at the sight. “I knew this was a bad idea I shouldn't have listened to Hoseok—”

You stopped his rambling. “What do you mean?”

“I was gonna ask you if you wanted to go eat together at that one Chicken restaurant nearby…”

“Oh.” You widened your eyes.

“Yeah.” He looked at you, biting his cheek in annoyance.

“This is awkward.” You chuckled.

“Whatever, just… just come in first.”

You saw Yoongi putting the plastic of food on his table. You offered help after putting down your cat on his couch and walked to his direction. Both of you plated the food in comfortable silence, it felt oddly domestic and you liked it. At this point you were used to him being not talkative and see it as his charm.

After you took the plates to the living room, Yoongi suddenly came back with cans of beers and soju in his hands.

“We’re drinking?” You said with an amused grin.

“You can drink, right?”

“Sure, but can you?” You playfully eyed him.

“Don’t challenge me.”

You could see how he was trying to hide his smile, and it brought colors to your cheeks.

—

You did not know how you got in this situation. Five episodes in randomly rewatching Avatar The Last Airbender and you both were drunk. You were resting your head on his shoulder as you watch the screen. It seemed like the booze gave you confidence, or made you shameless, or both, but the guy didn’t complain so it could be a sign of a good thing. While you could see Yoongi holding his alcohol better than you, he was not completely sober either.

It was at this very moment where you saw things through a pink tinted lense. Had Yoongi’s hair always looked that soft? Had he always looked this handsome? You began to question things you should not be questioning.

“Why didn’t you change your clothes?” You randomly asked.

“Do I look bad?” He replied, eyes still on the screen, hands stroking the sleeping cat on his lap.

"Of course not, I just feel severely underdressed now..." You chuckled.

He eyed you from top to bottom, which made you nervous, but he shrugged, seemingly to not have any problem with your clothes.

“You look… handsome.”

“You think I look handsome?” He suddenly moved to face you, making you move to look at him as well. The tone of his voice sounded like he was teasing more than asking a question.

You nodded and bit your lips. “And you kinda look like Cookie.” You giggled.

He raised one of his eyebrows, clearly not satisfied with your answer.

“Your eyes…” You began to ramble. “They look just like Cookie’s, and when you look annoyed, or just your plain expression… you look like a cute cat.”

“Really…” Yoongi hummed.

“Yup!” You giggled like an idiot.

You failed to notice how at this point, Yoongi has put Cookie down from his lap to the floor. His face only inches away from you as you kept rambling.

“Your hair look so soft… like a cat’s fur.” You reached your hands closer to his hair, but stopped mid-way, scared he’d get uncomfortable.

Yoongi surprised you again by grabbing both of your wrist and putting your hands on his hair, letting you stroke his head slowly. You saw his expression softened and as you kept playing with his hair, he closed his eyes. You swore you heard him purr.

“Pretty.” You said with a drunk smile.

“Hmm. Pretty.” He mirrored.

“Okay, call me crazy but why do I kinda wanna kiss you right now.” You said, totally losing the battle with your common sense.

Yoongi chuckled. “You’re crazy.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking to the right. “I like it.”

—

To be frank, you could not recall what happened after. You recalled some bits of karakoe-ing? Singing random PSY songs in your broken Korean using a bottle of whiskey as your mic. That was probably all? You couldn’t think while the throbbing headache was present in the room with you.

So why were you now in a bed that was not yours, wearing a t-shirt that was too big for you and was clearly not yours, also for heaven’s sake, WHY IS YOONGI SLEEPING NEXT TO ME???

You froze. Did you??? There was no way. Sure you found him attractive and all, and you definitely had this huge crush on him, but you couldn’t just sleep with a guy you barely knew. Besides your headache, your body didn’t feel any pain, so that was probably a good sign. What if he was just that gentle? Okay, you need to stop thinking at once before you started a whole fiction about you and Yoongi in your head.

When you turned your back, you felt the other side of the bed shifted as well.

“You’re up?” He asked with a raspy voice.

“Yeah.” You said, still back-facing him. “We didn’t… you know…”

“No, we didn’t.”

“Oh, okay good.”

Yoongi did not answered to that, but instead you felt him scooting closer.

“I’m sorry, this isn’t probably how you’d wanna spend your weekend.” You chuckled.

Your breath hitched when you felt a hand over your waist. “Is this okay?” He suddenly stopped when your body tensed at his touch.

You nodded, heart beating too loudly for you to form any sentence.

“This is nice.” He said, resting his forehead on your back.

When you stayed silent, he took your hand and turned you over to face him. Heat immediately took over your body as soon as your eyes meet. You noticed he was back in his usual home attire, oversized tee and sweatpants. His hair was messy, but it seemed like universe had its favorite cause he still looked good.

“You know, I haven’t had good sleep in… weeks.”

You were surprised by his sudden confession.

“It’s half past eleven now, and it’s not even ten minutes after I woke up…” He tittered. “My anxiety has been getting worse the past month and out of nowhere a black cat suddenly jumped to my balcony, meowing non-stop while I was working.”

You looked at him, letting him finish his talk. This was the most words you had ever heard coming out of Yoongi’s mouth and it made your heart flutter.

“I haven’t been caring. I’ve stopped caring, for a while now. Seeing you care so much for such a small creature… I don’t know, it feels good. It makes me wanna care.”

“Yoongi…” You cooed, caressing his cheek. "It's not true, all you have been since I first met you until this moment, was caring."

"I'm sorry if it feels like it came out of nowhere but I feel at home with you and I don’t know why...” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yet, at least.”

“I… like this too. A lot actually.” You said shyly.

“I would like to get to know you more if you’d like.” He was being honest and exactly to the point, no flirty bullshit to spice his sentences.

“I’d love that...”

Suddenly you heard a low meow from under the bed and Cookie jumped into the bed, joining you two. Apparently his bedroom door was left opened and none of you noticed how Cookie had entered. You giggled and he smiled as well, the widest smile and the most genuine you had ever seen from him, as he took the cat and cuddled both of you close.

"I think it's about time you give me your number..." You squinted at him playfully. "You know, so we don't repeat the whole chicken restaurant accident again?"

“Okay, but promise me first you won’t apologize again after kissing me.” He chuckled.

“EXCUSE ME WHAT???”

—

“Okay, call me crazy but why do I kinda wanna kiss you right now.” You said, totally losing the battle with your common sense.

Yoongi laughed. “You’re crazy.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking to the right. “I like it.”

“I can be crazier if you open that whiskey.” You wiggled your eyebrows.

Yoongi just shook his head, smiling at your silliness. He stood up and went to grab his Hibiki anyway, which earned a shout of celebration from you.

Things escalated quickly after opening the bottle. Somehow you were starting a drunk karaoke session which followed by many dance breaks. You ended up crying when a sad song randomly came up in the playlist and when Yoongi asked why, you replied. You replied with your lips on his.

In your head it just made sense. It was his lips’ fault for looking so juicy. Yeah, totally his fault for looking so hot that it was driving you insane.

None of you moved and it only lasted seconds before your mood turned sour again.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean…” You pushed him gently. “Oh my god, you’re so gonna hate me!!!”

“Hey, calm down…“

You started to panic, tears now forming in your eyes again. “Please don’t hate me, I just wanted to kiss you…” You cried.

“Okay, I think that’s enough drinking—“

And you puked.

Yes, Yoongi did see your lilac colored bra when he helped you change into his t-shirt. But that’s a secret between him and little Cookie.

Thank you for reading! 💎

part 2 is here!

#yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagine #bts scenarios #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts imagines #min yoongi #bts suga #suga scenarios #suga imagine #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #suga x you #suga x y/n

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love-belle · 1 year ago

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today and tomorrow and every day after that !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their fall-in-love-again era is them pretending as if they haven't already made it till forever.

for when it'll be them today, tomorrow and then a day after that. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // max verstappen x fem!reader

prequel - i should hate you ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language

author's note - it's 3am and im tired. thank u and i hope u like it <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, carmenmmundt and 789,416 others

yourusername his big wet eyes and loser personality have captivated me

tagged maxverstappen1

7,628 comments

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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, landonorris, danielricciardo and 895,315 others

maxverstappen1 something about how i'd marry you with paper rings and in this case, a string (or $1 rings from vending machine)

tagged yourusername

9,628 comments

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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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yourusername babygirl u are a very freak and strange. i am deeply in love with u. all jokes aside, we made it. i know we got married like weeks ago but marrying u like FOR REAL has been the most beautiful moment of my life. i wanna spend everyday with u, in this life and all the others. vegas was a trip but even then, it was perfect with u, the one i was marrying and as taylor swift said "i like shiny things but i'd marry u with paper rings" or in our case, $1 rings from the vending machine. i wanna go to museums with u and point to pictures with weird guys and say "that's u". i wanna dance in the kitchen with u. i wanna look back after decades at all these memories and laugh, knowing that my now-self made the best decision. i love u even if u have me saved as "DO NOT ANSWER ❌" in ur phone. i think forever would be nice with u or till death do us apart (or someone in a suit if this escalates to a divorce).

tagged maxverstappen1

11,628 comments

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landonorris good luck because he's with you till you decompose

-> maxverstappen1 i'll go with her into the afterlife too like who the fuck she trying to meet there

-> yourusername bold of u to assume you'd even get in

-> maxverstappen1 is this what married life is like???

username i am unwell

username "i wanna go to museums with u and point to pictures with weird guys and say "that's u"" THIS IS TRUE LOVE

username and adding onto my 262728292 reasons

username the caption has me shaking on the floor gasping for breath

username i have PRAYED for times like these

username FUCJ YESHSHHSJSJSJS

danielricciardo the best night even though i don't remember any of it

-> yourusername u tried to set our marriage certificate on fire saying "it's set in stone now"

-> danielricciardo doing god's work

-> username no bc y/nmax nation would be in RUINS if it weren't for daniel

username sobbing they're soooo parents now it's crazy

username i js woke up whatcthebfufk

username AHSHSJJKKSSKAKSJSJKS

maxverstappen1 never changing your contact name

-> yourusername this is so not sexie new husband of u

maxverstappen1 we look lovely

-> yourusername yes we do

maxverstappen1 mrs. y/l/n-verstappen

-> yourusername mr. verstappen-y/l/n

username YELLING THIS IS REVOLUTIONARY

username screeching when will it be my turn

username never ever ever getting over this caption

username this will go down in history for YEARS to come

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, danielricciardo and 2,128,268 others

maxverstappen1 never really did sappy posts but this means the world to me and i guess there's a first (???) time for everything. all i can say is that i truly cannot wait to spend all my days with you and go to sleep thinking that i can't wait to do it again tomorrow. and i think, there's nothing more lovelier than that. you once told me that i deserved the world, i hope we get to see it together. i wanna hear how your day was, today and tomorrow and every day after that. but before getting to all those tomorrows, here's to our forever that's summed up for me in a small moment.

tagged yourusername

13,628 comments

username shut up and think about what u did

username i can't cry im in class WHY WOULD U DO THIS TO ME

username no bc this is literally my last straw ENOUGH

username "here's to our forever that's summed up for me in a small moment" THIS DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE AND IT MADE ME SOB

username no bc he had no RIGHT to post this

username girlypop im still recovering from y/n's post give me 4-5 business years

username not cool max verstappen not COOL.

username tears are streaming down my face what the actual fuck

landonorris okay i shed a few tears

-> maxverstappen1 mate you were sobbing while giving your speech

-> landonorris I SUFFERED THE MOST OKAY

-> username no bc lando is their ACTUAL child of divorce

username this is ASTRONOMICAL like this is INSANE

username the bar is so high it js looks like a dash at this point

username everyone go home. max js won

-> maxverstappen1 winning on and off track

-> yourusername u cried when i beat u in mario kart

-> maxverstappen1 I CAN'T DRIVE

-> yourusername UR A PROFESSIONAL DRIVER

username further proof of if he wanted to he would

username "i truly cannot wait to spend all my days with you and go to sleep thinking that i can't wait to do it again tomorrow" js take me swiftly and now

username IN LOVE WITH THEIR WEDDING AESTHETIC LIKE IT EATS SO HARD

username i've prayed for times like these ❤️

charles_leclerc can't believe you would cheat on me

-> maxverstappen1 might just leave her for you

-> yourusername is this a bad time to tell u both that im already seeing someone???? alexandrasaintmleux

-> alexandrasaintmleux my angel ❤️

-> charles_leclerc wait a minute

-> maxverstappen1 now hold on

username live for men are unapologetically in love with their partners like there's nothing more sexy than that

username liar every single post abt y/n has been a sappy post

-> maxverstappen1 she holds me hostage every time

-> yourusername divorce papers look so sexy rn

username IT'S BEEN SUCH A LONG JOURNEY Y'ALL WE MADE IT

username my babies ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

danielricciardo tell lando i'm the godfather

-> landonorris he WON'T because you're NOT

-> maxverstappen1 guys we don't even have a baby

-> danielricciardo obviously we're talking about the future. your swimmers ain't THAT competitive unlike you

-> yourusername BAHAHAHAHA PLEASE UR SO WRONG FOR THAT

-> maxverstappen1 and you're officially out of the godfather contestants

username need a documentary on this like my life depends on this bc it DOES

username i never will be moving on from this post

yourusername i love u i love u i love u i love u i love u i love u

-> maxverstappen1 likewise

-> yourusername yeah i'll just

*yourusername deleted this comment*

yourusername ty

-> maxverstappen1 have a sense of humour

-> yourusername i married u what's funnier than THAT

-> username CLEARED HIM

-> username LFMSOAOAOAO

yourusername nice caption, wonder who edited it 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔

-> maxverstappen1 i don't know, this girl who follows me everywhere and calls me maximus

-> yourusername she sounds cute

-> maxverstappen1 yeah, she really is

yourusername nvm idgaf I LOVEEEEEE YOU

-> maxverstappen1 i love you more

yourusername husband

-> maxverstappen1 wife

username giggling rn im sooooo happy

username i will show this to my kids

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #max verstappen fluff #fake social media #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x fem!reader #max verstappen instagram au

3K notes · View notes

constelationprize · 1 year ago

Text

Reblogging this because I'm in the mood again.

Renée's daemon is a bigass fuck you scary vulture

Nicky's is a very colorful parrot

Allison's is a persian cat.

Dan and Wymack's daemons are foxes

Almost all of the Ravens have some sort of bird (mostly of prey, too) as a daemon and the birds are trained to fly in their weird cult V formation above them

Tetsuji's daemon is a raven, but despite all his best efforts, Riko only managed to make his settle as a magpie. He used to try and pluck her colored feathers before he accepted she wasn't going to change anymore

Part of the culling process of becoming a Raven is how quickly one can adapt to longer distances between themselves and their daemons.

Kayleigh's daemon was a panther, and much like Riko, Kevin tried to make his look like hers. It, however, settled as a black cat instead.

Jean's daemon is a hound. Her name is Marguerite

Kevin and Jean both heavily punished for their daemons not settling as birds. They are the ones most often kept from interacting with their daemons.

When Kevin leaves the Nest, then, his daemon spends months perched on his shoulders and neck, even if it's uncomfortable for him, trying to compensate

The only ones Marguerite trusts besides Jean are Kevin and his daemon. She Will turn extremely defensive in the presence of anyone else (this causes a lot of problems when Jean's stuck with Abby)

Thinking many thoughts™ about a Daemon!AU

Daemons being kept separated from their owners in the Nest...

Neil growing increasingly desperate as he grows older and knows his daemon soon won't be able to shift and blend in crowds anymore... Also it has to settle on a rabbit. It HAS to.

Kevin's daemon being a fox maybe? Just for the Flavor

Aaron and Andrew doing their absolute fucking best to ignore their daemons are the same animal and the implications thereof. (They're stoats btw. Tiny and fucking vicious.)

#i mean this is what I have for now?#if you noticed how skewed this headcanons are. you are correct #i am planning a kevjean oneshot about this #is it going to get finished? god knows #also I accept suggestions for what Matt Abby and Bee's daemons should be because they got me stumped #honestly im too tired to properly tag the rest of this if someone finds this. Congratulations #aftg au #aftg daemon au #kevin day #jean moreau #aftg

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strang3lov3 · 3 months ago

Text

Dark But Just A Game

You and Roman play tag. (5k)

Tags - noncon, one shot, smut, dark!Roman, maybe even slasher!roman??? unprotected piv, creampie, fingering, finger sucking, come eating, oral sex (f!receiving) violence, manhandling, inappropriate use of a box cutter - no gore though, i promise. i'm too squeamish to actually injure characters and deal with describing that. lack of aftercare, typical Roman sexism, Roman taunting, gaslighting, intimidating, lying, bullying. Takes place on Halloween. If you need more detailed warnings, message me. Fic help - MY BABY @endlessthxxghts!! thanks for having it in you to edit this A/N - I had fun with this creep!!! I plan to do more dark!roman in the future where he’s your creepazoid landlord stalker guy. Probably not as extreme as this fuck. This is my early Halloween treat for all of you 🎃 hope everyone has a safe and fun holiday!

If you’re interested in the music I listened to while writing this

“Can I leave now?”

Roman looks up at the ceiling and shakes his head as he sighs. “No, and quit asking me. You’re not leaving until I’m done.”

Fucker.

You’d never noticed before just how uncomfortable the couch in Roman’s office is, but after laying on it for the last three hours, you’re painfully aware. The material is scratchy, it’s uninviting. More for show than comfort, no doubt. Roman’s at his desk typing, scrolling, doing god knows what on his computer. What does he even do, actually? You’ve worked with Roman for a long time now and you hear him talk a lot about work, but as far as doing work - actually working, he does fuck all. “You never do anything, never, and now you’re…?”

“Watching porn, nuisance. Very important. Now fuck off.”

You don’t doubt that he really is watching porn, honestly. This is the third time you’ve asked Roman what he’s doing and you have yet to receive a legitimate answer. He’s got you stuck here in his office as he works - or whatever it is he’s doing - until he’s done. The rest of the building emptied out hours ago but Roman kept you late, insisting that he’d need you for something. Yet so far, he hasn’t needed you for anything. But you can’t leave, though. Per Roman’s instructions, you are not allowed to leave the building by yourself.

He couldn’t give two fucks usually, but knowing that you park in the garage, where it’s less secure than the rest of the building, Roman likes to walk you out when you’re all alone. There’s been incidents in that garage before. Nothing severe enough to actually do something about it or - more likely - nobody at Waystar really cares to. Nobody except for Roman, who insists on making sure you’re never alone in that garage. He doesn’t know why that is exactly. Maybe he’s got a soft spot for you.

Your phone died a half hour ago, and you left your charger in your car. Roman’s minimalistic analog clock reads eleven-something; you can’t exactly tell the time with the way the silver hands lay on the white background, the glare of the lights, and how the numbers aren’t even labeled. “Do you even like that clock?”

“What clock?” You point to it. It takes Roman a second to peel his eyes from his monitor, and then he squints at it. “Huh. That clock. Never noticed it before.” And his attention is back on his screen. Roman looks handsome even under the harsh, bluish light from his computer, the rest of the room pretty dark. He had you turn off the overhead lighting an hour ago. It was giving him a headache.

“I’m ready to go, Roman.”

Roman huffs. “Jesus Christ. I. Know. God, you’re like a fruit fly. Always buzzing in my fucking ear. What, am I keeping you from something? Costume party? Fucking - I don’t know. Passing out candy?”

“No, but–”

“But what?”

“I’m tired.”

It’s the truth, you are tired. And you did have plans, too. It’s Halloween, and you love to watch the same three slasher movies by yourself every year with a bowl of shitty microwave popcorn and some fun-sized candies. You’ve got a variety bag of candy in your car you picked up earlier in preparation, actually. But as the hours passed being stuck in Roman’s office, you gave up on that plan. You’d really just like to go home and sleep.

“Then take a nap,” Roman says. “I’m not even making you work. You’re getting paid to sit there and bitch to me. I can make you shred papers or something, though. Is that what you want?”

“I shredded your papers yesterday.”

“Then I’ll make you shred the blank ones. Scroll through Instagram and shut up.”

You roll your eyes. What a fucking asshole. Roman goes back to his screen, and you take some time to watch him. He just…stares. At nothing. The screen doesn’t change, it’s just that same blue-white light reflected on his face. Roman’s eyes are glazed over, his brow is pinched together. He just seems not totally there right now. He’s probably rereading the same email over and over again, but you do that too. Focus too hard on trying to be productive that you end up moving in the opposite direction.

Fuck this. Roman will keep you here until sunrise at this rate, so you pack up your purse. “I’m going to my car,” you say, walking across the room.

Roman glares at you. “Don’t,” he says, pointing in your direction. “It’s Halloween and there’s nutjobs out there. Do you know what could happen to a girl like you in a parking garage all by yourself?”

You scoff, “Fuck off. You’re ridiculous, Roman.”

Roman bites down on his smile to hide his amusement. You’re his first assistant to take none of his shit, who bites him back. What Roman lacks in size and personality, he makes up for in power and status, and he uses that advantage to bully anyone lower than himself. Never works on you, though. Roman wonders how he could change that. Everyone’s got a breaking point.

“I’m leaving.”

“No. If you leave without me, so help me god I will - I don’t know. I’ll hunt you down. I am asking you to give me just like, five minutes. Can you wait five minutes?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. Five minutes, my ass.” You take your hand off the door handle and lean against the frame. “What’s this about hunting me down?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. I’ll hunt you down.” Roman rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“Sounds fun. Like tag,” you smirk. You adjust your bag on your shoulder and saunter towards Roman at his desk, then tap his shoulder. “You’re it.”

Roman says your name in a threatening tone. “Do you think I’m kidding? I’m not fucking with you. Go sit down.”

You tap Roman again, then open the door. You dangle one foot out of the frame, giggling as you threaten to run. “I’m going to my car.”

Roman sighs and leans back in his rolling chair, folding his arms behind his head. “Always a game to you, huh?”

“Not always. But right now, yeah. Play with me, Roman. For like, five minutes.”

“What do I get if I win?”

“I don’t know,” you laugh. “I have some Halloween candy in my car. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, really? Anything at all?” Roman watches you nod, a mischievous smile on your face. Whatever you’re thinking, he’s thinking worse. “Hmm. Enticing. Yeah, alright. I’ll fucking play game, fucking show you. I’ll even give you a headstart, hm? I’m feeling generous.”

“Really? How long?”

“Don’t know yet, so you better run fast. But–” Roman pauses, mulling an idea over in his head. “You can’t use the elevator.”

“What do you mean, ‘can’t use the elevator’?”

“Sound it out,” he mocks. “What do you think it means?” Fucking asshole. You roll your eyes as you play with the door a little, swinging it open and closed little by little. “Those are my terms.” Roman folds his arms across his chest.

“Are you gonna use the elevator?”

Roman makes a face and shakes his head. “Of course not. We’re gonna play fair and square. You run, I run. But faster, obviously. So you better get the fuck out, sweetheart.”

“Okay. You’re on,” you smile. “Peace out, then.”

And that’s it. Roman watches you leave. He cranes his neck a little to watch the direction you turn, and like a good girl who follows his rules, you go for the staircase.

Roman never had such complicated feelings about a woman before you came along, which says a lot given the fact he’s never had a normal relationship with a woman either. He’s perturbed by your fierceness, your independence and confidence in the face of everything you put up with at Waystar and from Roman himself. A dirty joke in the car, a pinch on your ass cheek in the elevator. It does nothing to get under your skin or make you squirm. Your happiness, that stupid smile you wear. Your laughter and your sense of humor. He wants to break down all of those parts of you, just to see if he can debase you to his level. So tonight, he’ll humor you and play the game, if that’s what it takes. Just for shits and giggles. What other opportunity does he have to do this, anyway? If you get away, win the game of tag, so be it. But if you don’t, you’re his to do with what he wants. He’ll get you in his arms and he’ll…he’ll…

Roman closes out the windows on his Mac, then shuts the computer down entirely. He smiles a little at the small Snoopy figurine you put on his desk one day after he mentioned liking the character. You told him it made sense, that you could see it. Him liking Snoopy’s character, that is. Roman opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out a boxcutter, turning the tool over in his hand. There’s not even a good reason for him to have it. But he’s not gonna do anything, of course. Obviously he’d never do anything real. He’ll just…freak you out a little. It’s Halloween night, after all. If there was any time for a spook and all that.

Roman holds the boxcutter tightly in his hand as he stands up. He leaves his jacket on the back of the chair, his phone on his desk. He shuts off the lights and follows after you, taking sure steps as he walks that first hall. He turns down the same staircase that you did and peers over the ledge where he can see that you’re running your way down. The door behind him shuts loudly and startles you, an excited giggle escaping your lips. He wishes he felt excitement like that too.

Roman guesses you’re about seven levels below the top floor where you started when you enter the closest door to yourself. He repeats the floor number to himself through whispers, pacing his way down the steps. Bits of his hair are falling out of place, tickling his eyes and the bridge of his nose.

Roman barges through the same door you entered and scans the dark room for your body. It takes him a second for his eyes to adjust, but he thinks he sees it - your shoe poking out from behind a desk as you crouch. He tiptoes closer to you, peering over more desks and boxes of paper to see if he can spot you, or if his mind is playing a trick on him. He curses when the floor creaks under one of his steps. “God - fuck,” he hisses.

You hear him in front of you. There’s quite a distance between you and him yet, but you’re a sitting duck just waiting here. In the trash bin under the desk you’re hiding behind you spot a plastic water bottle still a quarter full. Quietly, gingerly, you pull it out and toss it in the corner of the room so that Roman’s attention turns to where it clattered.

You crawl around the cubicle, then rise to your feet to move quicker. Roman inspects the water bottle, then the desk where he thought he saw you. His footsteps are getting louder, so you sprint as quietly as you can into one of the nearby cubicles, your back against the wall as you hold your breath.

With wide eyes, you watch Roman walk right past yourself in the cubicle. You feel giddy at the thought of winning this game, so giddy you have to cover your own mouth to stifle a laugh of excitement. You poke your head out of the cubicle a little and watch Roman turn to the left, then make a mad dash for the exit and sprint back down the stairs.

Roman had thought about going back to the staircase so that you’d have to meet him there, but he decided against it - the game doesn’t last as long that way. He lets you run down the steps so that you tire yourself out a bit and he walks the other direction until he’s standing in front of the elevator he promised he wouldn’t get on. Roman presses the button with the arrow pointing down and smirks to himself, flicking the switch of the boxcutter, poking the blade in and out, in and out. The elevator dings and the doors open, Roman takes it down to garage level.

He waits. Flicks the blade up and down, up and down.

That blue P for parking sign has never looked so beautiful. You catch your breath for a second at the bottom of the stairs, then look up to see if you can see Roman. He’s not there, but you don’t believe he didn’t hear you leave that one floor you played cat and mouse on. Maybe he went down a different staircase, he does know the building better than you do. After catching your breath, you cautiously open the door to the garage. Roman perks up when he hears the horn of your car beeping repeatedly as you unlock it, fidgeting with the button on your keys. “Fuckin’ obnoxious,” he mutters to himself, waiting for you to walk far enough away before pressing the ‘door open’ button on the elevator so that you don’t hear the sound.

Relief watches over you as you make it through the parking garage, all cold and damp and smelling of concrete and oil, and no sign of Roman. You look around - It’s eerie in here, a liminal with its fluorescent lighting, but not quite bright enough to light up the dark atmosphere. Each floor is completely empty, save for your car. You smile as you reach your vehicle and open the back door, your heart pounding, exhilarated that you outran Roman as you toss your belongings onto the seat.

You feel it before you hear it. Warmth against your back, a bulge against your ass. A hand over your mouth, fingers and thumb harshly digging into the hollows of your cheeks. Your eyes widen as you squeal in fear and excitement.

Roman has you held tightly against his chest - he wins the game. But he realizes that he didn’t actually think this far. Didn’t think about what he’d do once he had you in his arms. If he’d catch and release, or if he has more in mind than that. As Roman contemplates, you start to squirm and panic - this has gone on too long. You don’t even know that the person holding you is Roman, so you thrash against him. It only serves to excite the man, to hold you tighter so that he’s hurting you.

“Hey, shhhh...shut up. Shut the fuck up. Stop - fuck - fucking squirming. It's me, okay? Relax. It’s just Roman.” The identification doesn’t calm you much. Something about him feels off. “Tag, remember? I got you. You’re it.”

Roman waves to you in the window opposite to your position, wiggling his fingers as he wears a bizarre smile, the shadows on his face making him look all dark and severe. There's something in his hand, too. Metallic and sharp-looking.You don’t register what it is until he presses it against your side and you can make out the object. A boxcutter. Roman threatens to push it further and you gasp, though with his hand over your mouth you don’t breath in much air. “I told you l’d fucking show you, didn’t I? Hey - didn’t I?”

Roman tugs your blouse up your torso, grazing the tip of the blade up and down your ribcage. You watch it happen in the window, tears springing up in your eyes. This doesn’t feel like a game, and if it is, you want no part of it. This feels...this feels scary. Roman’s taking it too far, and it feels real. A few tears roll down your cheeks, down the back of Roman's hand. You don’t wanna play this game anymore.

“Tears, huh? That didn't take long. Should check Guinness. See if you broke a record or something.” Roman lightly draws the blade over your skin, writing his name in sloppy cursive letters. R-O-M-A-N. He could press hard against your skin and his signature would be carved into you permanently. “I know, I know,” he whispers. “Are you regretting this?”

You nod. Roman's palm is becoming damp with your warm breath, your tears collecting between his hand and your skin. You try to pull him away from you so you can speak, but he holds on tighter.

“I asked you before if you knew what could happen to a girl like you in a parking lot like this. Wanna guess now?”

Only now does Roman remove his hand from your mouth, but he holds it just as tightly over your chest. You shake your head, “No,” you answer, voice wobbling. Good, Roman thinks. You want to scream, tell him that this isn’t funny. You’re scared and you want to be done with whatever this game has turned into. But you don't have enough of a voice to say anything but no. A quiet, pleading, shaky, and useless no.

“Well, I’ll tell you,” Roman begins. “Some bad, bad man will snatch you up, just like this.” He gestures to you with the boxcutter. He smiles, “He’ll drag you somewhere nice and quiet, where nobody can hear you scream. Like this.” He points to the rest of the garage. “He’ll bend you over-” Roman keeps the blade at your side and forces you down, down so that your chest is pressed into the backseat of your car. He puts a knee on your back, trapped like an animal underneath him as he presses his weight into you. Roman bends over and pushes some hair out of your face, twirling it around his slender fingers. You struggle to breathe, both with his weight on your chest and your hyperventilating. He continues, “And he’ll have his way with you. Fuck any hole he wants, shit - maybe he’ll even make a new one. Like I’m gonna do with you, right?”

It’s here where you realize the game is over, ended long ago, and question if it was even ever a game to Roman. Your gut churns in anxiety, you feel like you’re gonna puke. Is Roman gonna fuck any hole of yours he wants, or is he gonna make a new one? But being paralyzed in fear, and all you can do is hope that this’ll all be over soon, or maybe it’s just a dream. You’ll wake up in bed all sweaty and sticky and out of breath, but you’ll shower away the thought of this.

“You could end up on the news tonight,” Roman taunts. “It’s a scary, scary fuckin’ world out there. You have no idea what some sickos are capable of.”

Roman considers what he wants to do to you. He could leave you here and you’d be sufficiently frightened for Halloween, be your real life slasher movie. But you’re so scared, so pliant, so devoid of all confidence and bite and spirit. Roman wants to continue to exploit that, beat it down.

He tugs down your pants until they’re around your knees, then slides the blade of the boxcutter beneath the waistband of your panties. You cry harder, panicking and choking on your sobs. “Shhh,” Roman shushes you, cutting the fabric of your underwear before ripping it off of you completely. “Deep breaths, sweetheart, don’t cry. It could be worse, you know? It’s not the real thing. It’s just a game. That’s all it is. We’re just playing a game. I am just trying to show you what’s out there.”

You thrash again. “Hey,” Roman snaps and smacks your ass hard enough to leave a print. He stands behind you, no hands on your body and impressed that you stay like that. Roman spreads your legs, exposing your cunt to himself. He slides the blade of the boxcutter back down and drags the tool up and down your folds, patiently waiting for you to become wet. “You don’t fight back much,” Roman murmurs. “Why is that? You’re just like, f- oh. Answered my own question. Fight, flight, or freeze. You’re a freezer.”

“I’m scared, Roman,” you whimper. “You’re really scaring me.”

Roman scoffs. “Oh, you’re scared? Imagine how scared I am, knowing some sick fuck could do this to you. Legitimately,” he adds. “It breaks my heart, honestly. You’re lucky I know what’s best for you, sweetheart.”

Roman puts the boxcutter into his pocket and touches you himself instead, first spitting on his fingertips before cupping your mound. He hums in sick satisfaction at feeling the pool of arousal at your core. “Do you know how fucking soaked you are? A worse man wouldn’t get your pussy wet like this. He’d fuck you dry. Think about how good you have it with me.”

Roman toys with your pussy, making lewd noises as he rubs it, taps it, cups it. You’re only getting wetter, but you won’t make a sound, instead biting on a seatbelt, tears falling from your eyes squeezed shut. You’re not so subtle, though. Roman notices the subtle rocking of your hips, whether you realize you’re doing it or not. “You’re allowed to moan,” Roman murmurs as he strokes your folds. “I’d really like to hear you.”

He gives you a moment to find your voice. He’d even take a breathy sigh, if not a cry of pleasure.

Nothing.

“I said,” Roman begins, brutally pushing just two fingers into your slick entrance, letting you feel how his bony knuckles stretch your pussy. It hurts, oh, Roman knows how it hurts you. “I want to hear you. You know how much I hate repeating myself.”

You let out a soft whimper in response, the noise landing somewhere between pleasure and fear.

“Good girl,” Roman praises, pulling his fingers out of you almost all of the way to admire the way you’ve soaked him, digits all coated in your creamy ribbons of slick. He pushes them back in and curls them repeatedly, brushing against that sensitive place inside you, the added pressure of being on your stomach intensifying it all. In the deepest part of you, you can’t help but to want more, another finger or maybe even his cock. And that makes you cry harder, and fills you with a unique sense of disgust you’ve never felt before.

Roman curls his fingers rhythmically in your pussy, twisting and spreading them, getting your cunt ready for him to fuck. He didn’t plan on doing you this courtesy, but again - Roman’s got that soft spot for you. That, and the slick, wet noises you make for him, the way your body looks all laid out on your backseat, goosebumps on your bare skin as you push yourself against his hand Roman’s not entirely ready to give this view up yet.

After a time, it’s over. Roman pulls his fingers from you and you whimper, choking on your quiet sobs. Roman wedges one arm beneath your stomach and pulls you up, then shoves your purse under you so that you’re propped up for him nicely. You summon the courage to look over your shoulder at what he’s doing.

“You’re in good hands,” he promises, meeting your gaze. His eyes are dead but wild like an animal, a little bit of sweat sparkling on his forehead, hair all out of place. Roman snaps and points, “Eyes forward. Now.”

He unbuckles his belt and takes his cock and balls out of his pants and underwear so that they’re resting over the waistband. Roman rubs his thumb over the sticky tip before squeezing the base of his cock, then pumps himself a little, working his cock to full length. He spreads your cheeks wide, slick hole puckering as you wait to be filled once more. “You’re a mess.” Roman slides his thumb up and down your gash. He gathers your arousal and pulls you up by the neck with one hand, then shoves his thumb into your mouth with the other. “Taste it,” he says. “You fucking want this.”

You barely have time to register the flavor of your own arousal before Roman’s pushing you back down again and lining up with your entrance. He gives you no warning before pushing inside you unceremoniously.

“Roman,” you cry, reaching for the seat belt to pull yourself away from him. Roman lets you pull yourself far enough so that his cock pulls out of you almost all of the way, then pulls you back down on it.

“You can’t run from it,” he coos, beginning a steady pace. “You have to take it. No use fighting.” He draws in and out of you slowly as he holds your hips and rubs circles into your skin. Still crying, Roman soothes you, “Shh,” he hushes, shoving his thumb back into your mouth. “You’re fine. I’m being gentle for you. A bad man wouldn’t fuck you slow like this, would he?”

To Roman’s credit, he is being gentle with you. His thumb feels unfamiliar in your mouth at first, but quickly becomes a comfort to you as you suck it, use it to pacify yourself. You stare at a fallen piece of candy on the floor and focus on the details of the wrapper, see what you can’t read to block out the feeling of Roman inside of you. I’m not here. This isn’t happening.

“Yeah, not so bad, is it?” Roman pants, hips rocking against yours as he fucks you in two. “You could have it worse. So, so much worse.”

Roman pumps in and out of you at a steadier pace now, so deeply and so intentional so that you feel all of him. His hand on your hip, squeezing you, the weight of his body as he slams into you in a non-rhythm, no fluidity at all. You’re drooling, slobbering on Roman’s thumb as he fucks you and all you can do is take it, every punishing thrust he delivers onto you.

For Roman, it’s becoming too much. He can’t keep himself together and release is inevitable. Roman knows time is moving slowly for you but if it weren’t, he’d be a little embarrassed at how quickly he’s falling apart. Figuring there's no point in staving it off any longer, Roman lets himself feel everything he wants to feel. He’s grunting, moaning, growling as he loses himself in your cunt. “Oh fuck, I’m - fuck, fuck you, fucking…bitch. Fuck.”

Roman’s stomach and balls tense as he quickly approaches his release, groaning loudly as he spills into you, coming so hard he feels dizzy. He pulls out of you to pump his cock through his orgasm, painting those last few ropes of his spend onto your twitching pussy. Roman leans against the driver’s side door of your car as you catch your breath on the backseat, still staring at that piece of candy. It’s over. It’s done.

When you prop yourself up on your elbows, Roman shoves you back down. “Nope, you stay there. I’m not done with you yet,” he says. “Gonna make you come for me.”

Another sob escapes your throat and you cry hard. “Please,” you beg. “I’ve had enough, Roman. I just wanna–”

“Go home,” Roman mocks your voice. “I know, I know, I fucking know. But I’m a gentleman, aren’t I? Would you prefer I leave you high and dry? Come on. Use your head.”

Roman drops to his knees, joints cracking as he gets into position. He spreads your lips and presses a kiss to your center, all swollen and covered in his come. He licks you from clit to asshole, then rounds the tight muscle with his tongue before dragging it back down. He moves his lips and tongue in tandem to bring you pleasure, working you steadily until you’re letting out those little whimpers of ecstasy.

Roman moves his face as he devours you, his scruff scratching your inner thighs while he licks all of his spend out of your hole. The sweet and heady taste of you and him together is addicting, the warm scent of your most private, sensitive place. Roman will smell you in his facial hair later and get himself off to the thought of this but for now, he focuses on making you come all over his tongue.

You buck your hips into his face as he eats you, Roman smirks at this. He moves lower so that he’s sucking your clit, causing your legs to shake at the sides of his head as he eats you like the first meal he’s had in days. He holds you firmly in his grip, nails digging into your flesh like he could rip it off your bones while his tongue swirls over your clit. You reach behind yourself out of desperation, searching for a part of him to hold onto when you come. Roman takes your hand in his, giving you a place to land.

You’re seeing stars. Climax is inevitable, and there’s no point in fighting it off. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. You stop swallowing your own moans and let yourself make noise freely, allowing the pleasure to build. It’ll be over soon.

You sob when you come, all that emotion breaking like a dam. Roman uses his tongue to fuck you through it, push you to the point of discomfort and overstimulation. Roman turns you over in the backseat and pulls you up, up to examine you. Face and eyes all puffy and swollen, soaked with tears. Body shaking uncontrollably. Roman pouts as he wipes your eyes, you poor, blubbering mess.

He helps you into the driver’s seat of your car, buckles you in and tightens the seat belt. Roman leans over you to reach into that bag of Halloween candy and grabs a pink lemonade flavored Starburst. Roman smiles, “My favorite,” he mumbles, unwrapping the candy and shoving it into his mouth. “Alright. Drive safe. Watch out for Michael Myers, I don’t know. See ya Monday.” Roman shuts your door and pats it twice, waving behind himself as he walks away.

TYSM for reading! If you enjoyed please reblog with kind thoughts or send me an ask or comment ♡

I know that usually I tag my Roman readers, but given how triggering this fic could be to some, I'm not doing that. I'll see you all next time with stepdaddy!roman ♡

#roman roy x reader smut #roman roy/reader #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #roman roy smut #roman roy #dark!roman roy #tw noncon #succession fic #kieran culkin #kieran culkin characters

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thelargefrye · 1 year ago

Text

GODS … mature one - shot | pt. one

pairing : emperor!san x princess!f!reader

genre : slight historical fiction, mature, dark, arranged marriage, second chance, slow burn, eventually smut

word count : 3.5k

warnings : language, blood / body gore, death / murder, hints of dismemberment, san is evil, name calling (stupid girl)

special birthday suffering tag : @sanjoongie please accept this as an early birthday present from your braincell

note : inspired by san's performance video that literally wrecked all of us. none of are safe from his power and this proved it. also this was getting a little too long so i decided to split it up into at least two parts

after your life is unrightfully taken from you, you take this second chance as a way to finally survive and make a difference for yourself. you were tired of being a prisoner and feeling unwanted.

the dining hall was empty except for you and a few guards and servants. not another soul sitting at the long dining table despite it being able to sit twenty people easily, if not more.

it bothered you that you ate alone. every meal, breakfast, lunch, and dinner was by yourself. honestly, a lot of things bother you, but you were never allowed to say what was on your mind. it bothers you that you eat alone, that you have no one to talk to, that your family willingly gave you up to some demon emperor. what bothered you the most is that your "husband" never even gave you the time of day and that you were forced to listen to the maids whisper and gossip about you.

you saw the look of pity in their eyes.

you don't want their pity. you've never wanted anything but freedom for the last three years you've been trapped in this palace.

you were supposed to marry someone who loved you. have a big ceremony and live happily ever after. instead... instead you were taken away from your family by emperor san and forced to marry him. you were a pawn to him in order to gain control over your kingdom.

a prisoner forced to spend the rest of her life trapped in a loveless marriage and life.

you do your best to push down the negative thoughts as you eat. not wanting to get choked up on tears and cry. you didn't want anyone to see you cry.

especially not these gossiping maids.

"i heard the emperor went to the brothel last night."

"again! does him and the princess not spend nights together?"

"of course not. his highness isn't interested in the princess. their quarters are on completely different sides of the palace. i'm surprised he hasn't killed her, yet."

"i am too."

you try your best to ignore them.

when you've finished eating, you get up from the lonely dining table and exit the room. the maids have their eyes casted downward as you walk past them, acting as if they hadn't just been talking about you. your personal guard, mingi, follows you down the hall.

you remember when you first arrived at the palace, san introduced you to mingi and explained how he will be your personal guard.

"don't try anything stupid, mingi has orders to kill you on sight if you do," san's words still haunt you. mingi wasn't here to protect you, but to watch over you and make sure you never tried anything stupid.

when you return to your quarters, you take your usual seat by your window. the window that overlooks most of palace's entrance and the palace wall that keeps you trapped. too high to climb and too far to even try to attempt to make a run for it. like san purposely chose this room for you as a way to mock you. to let you know that you will always be a prisoner.

still, you can't help but wonder if one day you'll be able to be free and live happily.

however, that will only remain a dream until san crushes it as well like he done to all your other dreams.

"ow," you hiss out, finger immediately coming to your lips to try and stop the small prick of blood. you guess that's what you get for getting lost in your thoughts while attempting to work on your embroider.

you look down at the small cloth with the flower design slowly being sewn into it. embroidering was the only thing that kept you sane in this prison. you're waiting for the day san takes this away from you as well.

"princess, are you alright?" a voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you look up to see one of the other guards, yeosang, coming into your room.

"i'm fine. just pricked my finger," you say and he nodded his head.

"the emperor is here to see you," he says before stepping aside to let your husband enter your room. he walks in exuding so much power and authority and you hate it. you hate him for how much control he has. you're forbidden from entering the west wing – his quarters – of the palace, yet he's allowed to come in the east wing and even your room without having to ask. you hate it.

"girl," he begins, never has he addressed you by your name. always just 'girl' or 'stupid girl' when it comes to you, like you weren't of your name let alone your title. "pack your bag, i'm sending you back to your home kingdom for a week. you'll be leaving tomorrow morning."

his words take you by surprise. you'll be... returning home? after three years of being away from your family, you'll finally get to see them?

"r-really?" you ask, standing up and completely forgetting about your pricked finger.

"what are you deaf, girl. i'm not going to repeat myself," he says with an annoyed huff and turns to leave.

"wait!" he stops in his tracks at your voice, but he doesn't turn around to look at you. "why am i going? is everything alright?"

"when did you ask so many fucking questions? be grateful i'm sending you there in the first place," he doesn't say anything else before he takes his leave. the door to your bedroom slamming shut behind him and you immediately flinch at the sound.

"are you ready, princess?" yeosang's voice catches you off guard as you look up at the palace you had been trapped inside for three years. being in the front courtyard gives you a completely different set of emotions knowing that you will be away from this place. even if it is for a week.

you asked yeosang if san was going to come, but the guard completely avoided your question. you're not surprised he's not showing up, but it still hurts nonetheless.

then something else hits you.

"where's mingi?"

"he's had some last minute orders from the emperor," yeosang says, keeping his answer vague like always. "come, princess, we have a long trip ahead of us."

you don't say anything but instead silently climb into the carriage. once you're settled inside, the carriage begins to move and you can't help but look out the window watching as you leave the palace.

you couldn't help the smile that painted your lips knowing that you were finally getting to return to your family. you knew nothing could ruin this moment, not even your ruthless husband.

yeosang let out an exhausted breath as he ran towards the palace. the guards standing at their post immediately recognized their fellow soldier, even with his beaten and bruised body.

"yeosang!" the handsome guard recognizes the deep voice from anywhere and he immediately falls into mingi's arms. collapsing from his injuries, no longer able to stand. then mingi realized something as he and some other guards helped his friend. "where's the princess?"

yeosang looked at mingi with tearful eyes before he shook his head and mingi felt something in stomach twist.

"where's the princess, yeosang?"

"i couldn't... i couldn't– bandits ambushed us... i tried, mingi, i really did, but they–

yeosang couldn't finish his words due to how choked up he was getting, but mingi understood what his friend was trying to say.

"where is she?"

"she's in the forest," yeosang answered and mingi immediately set out on his horse with his best friend and fellow guard, yunho. the two were deep into the forest before they finally came across the carriage you had left in.

the entire carriage was destroyed, the wheels broken off and the main part crashed into a large oak tree. bodies of the driver and some others were laying, scattered around and blood was everywhere.

"mingi..." yunho is attempting to be strong as he watches his friend make his way towards the carriage door. it too had been broken and destroyed and the two guards noted how all of your luggage was gone. "those bandits took everything."

mingi ignored his friend in favor of opening the carriage door. however, instead of being met with an empty carriage, he was greeted with something worse.

"fuck!" mingi has to pull himself away from the carriage. tripping over the tree roots as he bends over and vomits. the sight in the carriage burned into his eyes even as he blinks. yunho watches his friend with concern before he's watching him breakdown and sob. tears running down his cheeks and snot running down his nose and over his chin from how hard his was sobbing. mingi's throat burned from when he threw up.

yunho looked between mingi and the carriage before taking several steps towards the carriage. mingi's voice repeating "oh god, oh god, i'm so sorry. please forgive me" is like a broken record in the background. and then yunho reaches over and opens the door and the sight within makes his whole being shake in terror.

when they arrived back to the palace, mingi carried a bag with him as they reached the throne room. san was sitting on his throne with his usually bored expression; however, mingi and yunho entering caught his attention.

"what's wrong with you two?"

"your highness," yunho begins, voice shaking as he starts to talk. however, yunho doesn't know what to say. he's at a loss for words.

"well? what the fuck is wrong you both?" san asks again, standing up and walking towards the two guards. mingi doesn't say anything except hand the bag over to him. "what is this?"

"your highness, the princess's carriage was attacked by bandits. yeosang managed to make it back, but..." yunho says, finally finding his words. he continues after a moment and at the same time san opens the bag. "the princess did not make it. we brought back... what was left of her."

the image of your body laying in the carriage burns in yunho's mind. he had never seen something as horrific before during his time as a soldier and especially done to an innocent woman like you. you did nothing wrong, just someone trapped in a situation you had no control over.

san says nothing as he looks inside the bag, letting the contents settle into his mind before he's carelessly dropping the bag onto the ground in front of his feet.

"oh well."

you can't help the scream that rips through your throat as you thrash around your bed. your covers flying everywhere before settling either back onto your bed or in the floor. your heart is beating rapidly in your ears and your eyes scan the room around you.

you couldn't help but let out another scream as your door is thrown open and in comes mingi with a concerned look.

"what's wrong, princess?" in any other moment you would have found his voice a comfort. but in this moment, you couldn't even find the proper words. the only thing leaving your lips were sobs as tears ran down your face.

it had felt so real, you thought as you curled yourself into a ball. you felt like you had actually died. alone in that forest as those bandits... no. you don't really want to think about it anymore.

"princess y/n?" mingi speaks again earning your attention as you look at him with tear-stained cheeks and glassy eyes.

"i... i had a nightmare," you said as you wiped away your tears. you hated yourself for crying in front of someone, mingi especially. "sorry."

"ah, its alright, princess. just gave me a scare is all," he says before he's bowing his head towards you and leaving.

when the door closed behind him, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. your hands instinctively come up to your neck, feeling a slight ache course through your body. you try to push back the feeling as your stood you and made your way to your ensuite bathroom to get ready.

you remember when you first arrived how you had at least three handmaids to help you get ready, only helping you because they were afraid of san. however, once they realized san didn't care about you, they stopped doing their duty and showing up. only one continued to be loyal to you, yeri.

but then three months ago you found out that yeri only remained by your side because she wanted to try and get close to san. she knew she was a pretty woman and san went after any pretty woman. after she got what she wanted she too–

"princess y/n, what are you doing running your own bath?" the familiar feminine voice snaps you out of your thoughts. standing up from the the edge of the tub, you're surprised to see yeri standing at you bathroom door.

"what are you doing here?" you asked, a little surprised to suddenly see her in your room.

"hm? what are you talking about princess? i'm your handmaiden, i'm suppose to be here," she answers and something feels unease as seeing her settles in your stomach. something wasn't right.

you vividly remember the night you found san pinning her to the wall and her words that were meant to bring you down. "wouldn't you rather someone who could properly please you, your highness? someone much prettier than your ugly and boring wife?" you remember who she tilted her head to the side in a flirting manner, even twirling her hair as the word left her mouth a stabbed your heart.

you remember how san only smirked at her before continuing to have his way with her. right there in hallway and in the east wing – "your" wing.

you had thought she was a friend, but when you heard those words you immediately knew she wasn't. you trusted her and she betrayed that trust. she didn't care. she was like everyone else.

"here, princess, let me finish–

"stop talking," you cut her off, voice as cold as you could make it. you couldn't stand looking at her. "is this some sick and twisted joke to you?" you ask, glaring at her. yeri's face is immediately covered in confusion and she opens her mouth to say something. "get out. i don't need you to do anything for me."

"but princes–

"i said get out!" you've never raised your voice, but the longer you looked at her the more you realized that she was able to easily get what you could never have. san's attention.

you could have sworn you seen yeri's fake persona fall for a split second from your new attitude before she's turning on her feet and rushing out of the room.

you let your anger subdue before you're turning back to the tub and quickly turning off the water before it begins to overflow into the floor. because honestly that was the last thing you need right now after just waking up.

you allow the warm water engulf you and you let out a sigh as you sink into the water. your hair placed carefully on top of your head as a way to keep it dry, knowing it was going to be a pain to do if you got it wet. the ache and soreness in your body was still there all around you. your neck, wrist, arms, stomach, and legs all had a type of ache to them that you never experienced before.

maybe you should visit the palace doctor later, you think before you let your eyes close. however, once you close your eyes you are immediately brought back to your nightmare. the screams of the driver and other servants ringing in your ears, the carriage door ripping open and those bandits standing there and their swords shining despite the darkness of the night.

you suddenly open your eyes again in order to make sure you were still in your bathroom. eyes darting around the room as if those bandits would also be here. its only after several minutes does your heart rate calm down before you can even will yourself to get out the tub.

the water had grown cold.

"princess, are you alright? do you need to see the doctor?" one the maids ask when she notice you keep repeatedly rubbing your wrists and neck.

"i... i think i just slept wrong," you say in an attempt to brush her concern off.

"alright, princess, but if it gets worse please let someone know," she says and you nod and thank her before she's going back to her place with the other maids in the dining room.

"i heard she dismissed yeri this morning, yelled at her and told her to get out," one of the maid's said in a hushed whisper.

"really? that's surprising considering how much the princess liked her."

"i say yeri deserved it because of how she has been trying to sleep with the emperor."

trying? as if she hadn't done it yet? how is that possible when she did sleep with san three months ago?

the unsettling feeling reappears as you continue to think about yeri and the nightmare. something just wasn't clicking.

"excuse me," you say and one of the maids immediately come over to you.

"yes, your highness? what's wrong?"

"what... what month is it?"

"august, your highness."

"a-august?" your shocked by her answer. it was august? that was three months ago. how is this possible?

"p-princess are you alright? you look ill," her voice sounds far away as you begin to lose focus on the things around you. everything becomes blurry and you're quick to stand up. chair scraping along the floor before tipping over and falling to the floor.

you begin to walk away, ignoring the maids calling after you and even some of the guards, but you ignore them all. this was just some sick joke from all of them. from yeri, to mingi, to the maids, to san. you were supposed to be in october and spending a week with your family. not in fucking august with people who hated you.

you don't have time to comprehend anything else before your falling to your knees and passing out in the middle of the hallway.

after you had passed out, you had woke up in your bedroom with mingi, yeosang, and the palace doctor surrounding your bed along with a young maid.

the maid was the first to notice you awake and she immediately collapsed at your bedside with tears welling up in her eyes.

"oh, princess, i'm so glad that you're awake! we were all worried sick about you!" she said and your eyes moved from between her to the two guards and then the doctor.

"how do you feel, your highness?" the doctor asked and it took you a moment before you actually answered him.

"i'm fine," you answer despite how your body still aches, you force yourself to sit up. the young maid is quick to adjust your pillows for you as you do.

"you all can leave," you add on looking at the guards and doctor. mingi and yeosang as hesitant to follow your orders, but the doctor does so before giving you instructions to take it easy for the rest of the day. he also said that he would make sure your meals are delivered to your room and that he'll come back later.

when the three males leave, you are left alone with the maid. her doe eyes looking at you with concern as she keeps a watchful eye on you. that's when her name finally comes to you.

"yunjin..." you say trailing off as you remember that she was with you in the carriage. you remember watching as the bandits grabbed her by the hair and dragged her out of the carriage because she tried to protect you.

"yes, ma'am? do you need anything?" she asks, voice hopeful and waiting to help you. you remember she began working for you when hongjoong – san's advisor, had found out that you had no one helping you. you know he only assigned yunjin because he took pity on you like everyone else here.

however, yunjin followed you around and listened to every order you gave her. at first you were worried that she would be like yeri, only using you to see the emperor. as if you see him on the daily. but then you learned that yunjin was a devoted servant to you.

"is it... really august?" you asked her, still not able to wrap your head around everything.

"yes, princess."

what if... oh god, what if you did actually die that night? does this mean you are given a second chance? a second chance to survive and to make sure that you and yunjin and the other servants don't die.

but how were you going to do this?

and then you hear loud cheers and noises coming from outside and you have to force your body to crawl out of bed and over to the window. then you see him.

san walking through the gates and into the courtyard, a small army of followers around him. following him around like he was some god. then it clicked inside your brain.

if you were going to survive then you would have to gain his favor. deep down you know san was probably the one behind the "bandit" attack. so getting on his good side would get him to call off the bandit attack.

you were going to win over your ruthless husband.

tag list : @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @pyeonghongrie @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @spooo00oky @frgogh @sookacc @seongwin @burnsmepls @ad0rechuu @tunaasan @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @cheesekimchi @confusedmoonchild777 @mjyungi @innieontop @iweirdthingsblog

network : @cultofdionysusnet

#ateez x reader #cultofdionysusnet #kdiarynet #ateez blurbs #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez san x reader #san x reader #ateez historical au #ateez angst

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aliteralsemicolon · 6 months ago

Note

A bit of my version of Spencer just for you to make your day and because I know you love him 😌

Spencer stared at you from across the table, his eyes followed your hands as they once again rubbed over your tired eyes. It hurt him to see you push yourself and he was screaming on the inside for you to lay down for a bit and rest, but he know you were too stubborn and wouldn't listen.

Your head started to lull to the side and in a split second, Spencer was up and walked over to you, resting his hand on your shoulder.

"Sweetheart, you need to rest."

"Spencer I'm-"

"Don't you start, you are not fine and you are going to lie down wether you like it or not."

You'd never seen Spencer be so stern with you before and it honestly startled you. Usually you'd scoff and tell him to worry about himself, but something inside was gnawing at you to not talk back to him and the only action you managed to do was nodd.

Spencer offered a hand, which you took and guided you to the small couch in the corner of the room. You sat down and Spencer helped you take off your shoes, his fingers accidentally touching the palms of your feet, which caused you to squirm at the ticklish sensation and for Spencer to chuckle at it.

"Let this be a warning to you, if you don't rest up I'll continue to tickle your feet."

That was all you needed to curl up on the couch and escape off to dreamland, where Spencer wasn't torturing you with his tickles.

Moral of the story, get some sleep you dummy 💕

THIS IS WHAT I WAKE UP TO OH GOD IT’S LIKE AN EARLY BIRTHDAY PRESENT KETTLEPOT I LOVE YOU!!!

Ket this is so adorable, I'm gonna cry 😭 you're gonna catch me reading this over and over in class later and when that happens mind your business!!! I'm posting this with the normal fic tags, it can't go unnoticed, omfg ket I LOVE U, we are getting married like tomorrow!!!!!!!

Guys I'm telling u, @mandarinmoons is literally the friendliest and fucking sweetest person on this app and they write bangers like this all the fucking time and I just think it would be really really cool if we (you because I already am) would follow her. and spam her inbox with small love letters because we'd all be insane to not love her.

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kibbles-bits · 4 months ago

Note

any voxval fics you’d recommend?

Ah, yes, voxval fics... The one ship that finally made me cave and read explicit stuff. I am now numb to everything.

Everything.

I'll only be posting completed fics. Warnings, almost all of these are explicit. A couple also have Angel, you know, suffering.

And please mind the tags.

First off is a couple of favs that I always go back for a reread:

Corrupted Love by DoveFactory (Words: 149,495)

In a moment of blind desperation to one-up Alastor, Vox puts himself in a compromising situation that leaves him worse for wear. His state triggers something in Valentino who decides to change the nature of their relationship.

The title and summary of this is so misleading I thought it was going to be a dark fic but nope. The Vees are a bunch of goobers and Valentino always wins. I would scream about this every time it updated. I love the characterizations and their banter it almost made me forget there's sex in like every chapter. Honestly I wish there was more tags referencing the character/story stuff.

Virtual Reality by passthevoxcord (Words: 7,634)

Vox gets tired of his cybernetic biology being a barrier to his sex life, so he starts a new project to fuck Valentino in VR. Val will try anything once, but he has something else in mind.

This one ends up being so sweet I want to die. passthevoxcord's other fic, Only a Shadow, drives me nuts but its a WIP and hasn't actually gotten to the voxval yet.

choke behind a smile by gloriousmonsters (Words: 19,881)

"I'm not scared by extreme, although I doubt I'll find it interesting. What is it?" Valentino's eyes narrow slyly over his smile. "If you aren't scared, why do you need a warning?" Vox has everything under control in his new business partnership with benefits. His emotions, his unfortunate desires, the little mind games they play. Even Valentino himself. When Val offers an invitation to a special show he's performing, Vox knows it's a dare, and knows he has to take it, show Val that he can't be scared or destabilized. He has no idea of how deep under his skin the show will get.

Everyone's so normal. I love this Valentino. There's another Valvel fic that has the same Valentino I also recommend called bad girls go backstage.

Great Expectations by MarenRose (Words: 11,280)

“It’s his goal. Those three simple words. If he could get to hear them once, could let the reality of their meaning and spoken existence occupy his mind for only a few indiscernible moments, then maybe, Vox could learn to see the appeal of this god forsaken holiday. He might even learn to ‘love’ it too.” Or: Vox hates Valentine’s Days. His prick of a ‘wife’ is just too damn hard to please.

This miiiight have been the fic that made me Lock In on voxval? I'm not sure. It's sweet. Alastor is hilarious.

biting keeps your words at bay by Subedarling (Words: 1,511)

“You can’t hit me,” Valentino says. He’s practically vibrating with rage. “You’re not allowed to—you can’t hit me!” Vox sneers, cruel and mocking and hopefully masking the way his heart is breaking apart inside his chest. “Baby, I can do whatever the hell I want.” A decade into their partnership, Vox and Valentino have their first and last physical fight.

This might be the only non-explicit fic in this list. I am all for Val being the worst just because he's Like That. But I will not say no to an implied tragic backstory. I read this one a lot and want to die. Can I draw this. I want to draw this. Oh my god I have free time I can totally draw this...

And my other recs:

Just For The Record by PeppermintWalrus (Words: 13,795)

Vox is thrilled about his new film enterprise with his business partner, ready to build a lucrative empire for the denizens of hell to experience true cinema, in the only genre their depraved minds desire. There’s just one problem that he finds out too late; Valentino has never filmed porn before. Vox decides that some... hands-on teaching, is necessary to save their production.

Yeah you read that right.

a putrid feeling that i've addressed by spoondrifts (Words: 5,162)

They weren’t a couple because Valentino was pathologically noncommittal and Vox simply knew better. He tried the whole romance thing with a certain radio demon a few decades back, and he’d learned his damn lesson. Hell just wasn’t the place for that sort of cutesy bullshit. Also, he was pretty sure that Valentino was straight up incapable of love, which was both par for the course for Vox’s friendships and amazingly convenient—things couldn’t get complicated if there was nothing to complicate in the first place. Or: Full Moon, Vox/Val edition.

Haha I love pain. I lied, this is the second non-explicit fic.

Little Miss Hellion by DoveFactory (Words: 10,657)

Hell’s worst married couple spends a day of family bonding at a beauty pageant doing whatever it takes to make sure their daughter takes home the crown, because failure is never an option for the Vees. Pilot AU where Vox and Valentino are married and Velvette is their adopted daughter.

It's more Vees than voxval but they're married so.

The Art of Pimping by MarenRose (Words: 9,161)

Desperate to close a deal with one of the most lucrative investors in Pride, Vox does the unthinkable and pimps out Valentino for a one-time date. What could go wrong?

Val's attitude in this one is funny and Vox. Yeah. Vox made a mistake.

You Found Me by passthevoxcord (Words: 4,338)

Long before Velvette came along, it was just them. Vox and Valentino. Valentino and Vox.

Sobbing.

Something Less Than Dishonest by daphnerunning, Galiko (Words: 33,931)

He isn’t expecting the way Valentino walks, for some reason. Maybe it’s the extra limbs. Maybe it’s the wings. Maybe it’s the heels. Vox had skipped briefly through a few of the slut’s movies, for research, and isn’t expecting the way Valentino moves in person to feel so… Different. “…You must be my four o’clock,” he says, standing and offering a hand. Oh, shit, he’s huge. Valentino towers over him, easily would without the stripper heels. Vox is not afraid of heights.

Vox is so offensive in this it loops back around to hilarious.

Red Skies and Valentino by alternatedoom (Words: 86,050)

"Vox and I are special friends, doll. Go give him a kiss," Val says to the boy.

Angel does not have a good time. But the Voxval is nice.

before you go by xoTsundoku (Words: 4,426)

Before Alastor came into their lives, Vox and Valentino were happy. Maybe they still can be.

A Farewell to Ghosts by Accidental_Ducky (Words: 37,149)

"What do you think that is," Vox demands, pointing at the new guy. Valentino turns, eyes raking greedily over the man's body. He's gorgeous, skinny in a heroin chic way with big blue eyes and blond hair that falls just so across his eyes. "Hot." "Don't fucking call the ghost hot!"

The only human AU I've liked so far. Love the character interactions. Vox and Val are hilarious.

God I hope I didn't miss any. There's definitely some good WIP ones out there.

#Hazbin Hotel #Vox #Valentino #Staticmoth #Voxval #fanfiction recommendation #Asks #Anon

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diorsluv · 1 year ago

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feather , part 19

“ you act like a bitch ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

missseraphina

liked by lhughes_06 and 674 others

missseraphina not quite golden hour but you make it feel like it anyway 🌅

view all comments

username16 i’m gagging.

username47 fuck no lmaooo

username3 so cringe

username92 luke isn’t even commenting he’s only liking her posts 😭😭

→ username96 i knowww like this has got to be the most embarrassing thing i’ve ever seen

username77 miss girl is trying way too hard

username30 ignore the haters babe!

liked by missseraphina

username25 i honestly would off myself

username81 god please tell me this is all just a bad dream

username20 this is my 13th fucking reason. i need my dryshughes crumbs rn

yourusername super cute! golden hour is any hour when you’re with the one you love 🥰

→ missseraphina thanks i guess? lmao and yeah maybe that’s why he always tells me i’m glowing

username1 don’t fucking tell me she just implied that luke loves her in lil drizzy’s replies

username6 there’s no way luke didn’t comment but his ex girl did

→ username49 lmfaooo i don’t think she’s his ex

→ username37 at this point she might as well be

username42 stopp this is so adorable

username21 so happy for u!!

username69 someone gouge my eyes out i’m begging

lhughes_06

liked by jackhughes, markestapa, yourusername, and 77,298 others

lhughes_06 throwback time? 🫣

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

trevorzegras kid u make me laugh LMAOOO

→ lhughes_06 glad i could be of service

→ _alexturcotte fr this is too funny

→ colecaufield who needs netflix when you have luke

username56 I CANTTT they all see it as a joke

→ username84 it is a joke bro 💀 like luke’s just fucking around w mississippi

yourusername were u just keeping these photos locked up for months 🙄🙄

→ lhughes_06 i mean they’re not even that old tbh

→ yourusername aw just wanted an excuse to post me huh?

→ lhughes_06 dont even need an excuse

username61 DRYSHUGHES IS MAKING A COMEBACK

→ username4 I AM GOBBLING THE DRYSHUGHES CRUMBS UPP

username73 i just bet my friend $30 they get together by the end of the hockey season

→ username50 ur investing a lot into a relationship that doesn’t even exist yet

→ username73 key word: yet

missseraphina oh but the retro days have been over, no need for a throwback 😁

dylanduke25 i vividly remember you got us kicked out of the restaurant as soon as you threw her over your shoulder

→ lhughes_06 no you got us kicked out bc u squirted ketchup all over mackie

→ mackie.samo you stained my favorite white shirt and i’m still waiting for you to replace it 😒

→ yourusername that was your doing dyl don’t even

→ markestapa i thought it was because eddy kept screaming

→ edwards.73 BECAUSE DUKER WAS HARASSING ME

→ dylanduke25 🙁🙁

_alexturcotte i left you on the curb for a minute so i could heat up the car and i came back to you snuggling

→ lhughes_06 we were tired

→ yourusername WE WERE NOT SNUGGLING

→ jackhughes i mean you did look pretty cozy

→ lhughes_06 i was pretty cozy

username75 luke’s just stirring it up and i’m here for it

→ username21 fr cuz that other girl was bein a bitch to MY girl 🙄

username98 lmfaooo mississauga doesn’t even realize he dont gaf abt her

next chapter notes ) mississippi be doin too much frfr, but its okay bc luke dont even want her 🥱

tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s @jackquinnswife @freds-slut @love4ldr @blueeyedbesson @43hughes @v1olentdelights @dancerbailey3 @random-human02

#luke hughes #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #jack hughes #quinn hughes #alex turcotte #cole caufield #trevor zegras #jamie drysdale #luca fantilli #adam fantilli #rutger mcgroarty #ethan edwards #mark estapa #mackie samoskevich #dylan duke

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portraitofadyke · 1 year ago

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I think the reason so many Izzy stans struggle to understand the Izzy callout posts is because in their mind, what we are trying to say is that Izzy is a super obvious abuser and Ed is an innocent little victim.

Their dynamic is obviously way more complicated than that. This show is full of immensely layered characters - something that makes it so unique. Ed and Izzy are complicated, too. It would have been easy to make Izzy a power hungry abuser and Ed the obeying, scared victim.

But it's their power dynamic that makes this so interesting and complicated. Ed is clearly the one in power to most people, and yes, he is Izzy's boss and Captain and he holds power over him, too. But Izzy holds the power right back. I saw the comparison of Izzy being a fame hungry manager of a celebrity, (@57flagsofdeath), somebody who just wrings them dry, ignorant of their suffering, and it stuck with me (pls tag the person if you know them). Ed is Blackbeard, history's greatest pirate, and Izzy's just his First mate, his second-in-command.

And Ed is clearly tired of that persona, Izzy sees that he's at the end of his rope, seeing death as his next adventure, and the moment he steps on the Revenge and sees that Stede does things differently, he is estatic.

Another person here did a very good post how both Izzy and Ed are victims of toxic masculinity, and on board of the Revenge, Ed starts shedding his. We know that Ed's been 'more crazy' for a while and Izzy is fed up with him. For Izzy, there is no Blackbeard and Ed, there is just Blackbeard. Happiness, giddines, being open and excited and soft or God forbid, falling in love for an even softer man is not masculine, and it's not worthy of Blackbeard.

Izzy knows Ed is happy with Stede, he admits so in his inner monologue in s6. That's what makes him want to kill Stede even more.

This episode is honestly, along with The Innkeeper, is the only proof I need to prove that the show intends to compare Izzy to Ed's father and Hornigold. Izzy is in clear parallel with Ed's father hurting his mom while Ed just hopelessly watches, just like when Izzy attempts to murder Stede despite Ed calling him off. And what does Ed do to his father? Murders him. That's once again parallel to Ed shooting Izzy in the leg in s2.

Izzy is manipulative and he plays into Ed's Blackbeard persona. He diminishes Ed's needs and happiness to wank off over Blackbeard and his competence and masculinity. I am not saying here that Ed never does anything wrong, or that he never hurts anyone. this relationship, this dynamic is bad for the both of them. But Ed clearly projects his daddy issues on this older pirate who probably showed him the ropes of what it means to be a pirate and then decided to manage his persona and control what's good for Blackbeard, not for Ed. If Ed weren't terrified of Izzy, or his disapproval, at least a little bit, why would he just watch as Izzy fights Stede, despite the tender moment in the bathtub? because Izzy reminds him of his own dad in so many ways he feels hopeless sometimes.

But the time in Stede's presence changed Ed. It showed him things can be done differenly, despite what Izzy and Hornigold and his dad showed him. He can be tender, and soft, and vulnerable and he can be loved for being Ed. When Stede leaves him on the dock, despite being heartbroken, Ed doesn't get violent. Quite the opposite, he sulks in a pillow fort, writes sad songs and sings. Worse, he shows his vulnerable side to the crew. He tells them to call him Ed. Izzy doesn't care for Ed. Ed can die, for all he cares.

Izzy knows how to push his buttons. Yes, Ed is Blackbeard, and all his planning and maiming and violence and smoke and mirrors, but Izzy is always there to whisper in his ear, to remind him that Ed means nothing to people unless he plays Blackbeard.

My point is, Izzy is clearly shown to be abusive, not in the way most people imagine. he doesn't beat Ed, instead he constantly undermines him, threatens him, does anything he can to deny him happiness. He's emotionally abusing Ed, making him feel like he's nothing without Blackbeard, going as far as killing his significant other and selling him out to the Navy.

I think where people get confused is they think Izzy genuinely cares for Ed in S1. He doesn't. It's not until s2, when Ed is at his lowest, so far retracted into the Blackbeard persona the only thing he can do is destroy himself that he realizes what he's done. Izzy has something of a clarity moment. He knows he fucked up. We all have different opinions about Izzy's small redemption, but even the goddamned character you all try to defend knows he fucked up. Izzy knows he's done Ed wrong for years. Izzy knows the power he holds over Ed.

Izzy and Ed are not your typical form of abuse, and Ed is not the perfect victim, and people serioulsy struggle with that to the point of coming up with fairy tales where Izzy is the only Good Guy in the show who didn't deserve to get shot, Ed is bound to be domestically violent and Stede should just die, really. And that's. That's the exact opposite of what the show is telling us, quite clearly. You don't even have to read in between the lines. S2 has been kind to Izzy, made him come to terms with his mistakes, and even grow a bit (even though it was a bit rushed, but again, budget cuts), the least you can do is be happy with his ending where he got to die surrounded by people who will all shed a tear for him and send him off, something s1 Izzy, who was about to be thrown overboard tied to an anchor, would never get. Maybe actually watch the show?

#ofmd meta #ofmd #the izcourse #I'm growing tired of this grandpa #it's not hard to understand that abuse is not always the same and comes in many complicated forms #if you don't get that go back to mcu movies or something

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citr0us · 6 months ago

Text

Friend Next Door

Hamzah x PocReader

Summary: When your neighbor come to your house to smoke and talk turned to whole another thing.

Warning! : smoking weed, cursing, smut, sex with out protection, cheating.

My native language is not English, so if there are any spelling mistakes, please don't mind.

And here I am in my apartment with Hamzah, my neighbor and good friend of mine in my room smoking marijuana that he had, he's been my neighbor for 3 months, when I saw him I always found him attractive and I've always had a certain attraction towards him, we started talking and becoming friends when he came to my house to help assemble my new furniture.

How is your life Yn? - Hamzah asks me while he takes a drag on his cigarette.

Ahh - I sigh and throw my head back - I don't really know how to say it, I'm so stressed these days, I had a fight with my boyfriend, I honestly just need to relax a little - I say bringing my hands to my face and then looking at him.

Hamzah starts to approach me making eye contact - I know what it's like - he says, placing his hand on my shoulder - is there how I can help you? - he says looking at me while putting the cigarette in his mouth again.

I look at him, from top to bottom trying to indicate what I want, him. Hamzah gets closer to me and says quietly “I need you, tell me” he puts his hand on my thigh and starts stroking it, I look at him with a look of pleasure.

I can only tell how much the air in the room is now changing and that I'm only feeling tension.

Fuck, Hamzah - I say as he takes his hand more and more - You know, we can't do this.

Why not? I know you want it - he says with a smile on his face - it's been a while - he says in a whisper

I throw myself on top of him, placing both my arms around his neck, and while one of his hands is on my back and the other hand on my thigh.

Fuck me then, now - I say between the kiss

We move away for a moment, and I start to take off my shirt and he comes to help me with my bra, He starts kissing my neck going down to my tities while he sucks one, with the other hand he massages the other.

Fuck - I moan

He starts to go down further, reaching my shorts, I take them off quickly, only leaving my panties on and he runs his hand over my pussy over my black panties.

You're already so wet for me - he says proudly

Just fuck me - I say almost begging

He takes off my panties and starts making circular movements on my clitoris, with one hand and with the other he massages my breast

Oh my god don't stop - I say, already on the edge of my orgasm

He stops at the same moment, - you're going to cum on my fucking dick - he says

Hamzah starts to take off his shorts and you look at his underwear and you see his bulge, when he takes off his underwear you see that the tip of his dick is already dripping with cum

Are you ready - he asks ready to stick his dick inside me,

I just nod. He puts it on and I immediately moan loudly and then the intense and heated movements of the moment begin, with Hamzah on top of me he begins with a back and forth movement inside me

Fuckkk - he groans - I'm going to cum

My god, me too - I say between moans

Come for me, baby - he says

Making us reach our climax, lying on my bed tired, he kisses me on the forehead.

Taglist - @snookiluvsyouu

(if you want to be tagged too, send me a message)

#hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefantastic #hamzah imagines #martin and hamzah #smut #slushy noobz #hamzahsmut #hamzah x reader

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stop-talking · 11 months ago

Note

I am soooo excited for the rest of your Derek fic your Mike fic was so good!!! It was everything I want from enemies to lovers so I can't wait for more 💕

So I'm stuck on this shithole island, and I can't even have a smoke? (pt. 2)

Derek Danforth x fem reader

Word count: 3.1k

Tags: 18+, Derek x fem reader, no use of y/n, angst, enemies, enemies to lovers, fluff, (very) slowburn, sass, banter, misogynistic & violent undertones, (Derek is a prick), suggestive themes, mentions of drug use, withdrawals, rehab, overall mature content.

Part 1 Part 3

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Derek is pulled from his deep, trance-like sleep by the sound of someone calling his name.

He sits up in bed, blinking and swaying slightly as he adjusts to the light pouring in through his windows.

"Derek? C'mon, wake up."

Who the hell is knocking on his door? Everyone knows not to wake him unless it's urgent.

He stumbles to the door, nearly tripping over his own feet. Why is his head pounding? Is he hungover?

"Fuck d'ya want?"

Derek opens the door, ready to chew out whoever is on the other side. He stops when he sees you, and suddenly remembers everything that happened last night.

Beach house. Three weeks. With you. Sober.

"I was thinking we could have breakfast?"

Derek blinks at you, unsure what to even say. He wasn't used to being woken up like this, and his head was still pounding. God, he wanted his vape already.

"Umm... sure. Let me..." He looks down at his clothing, a simple t-shirt and some sweats. He feels... naked.

"I'm gonna change." He mumbles, closing the door before you can fully take in his disheveled appearance. He doesn't like letting people see him without his usual clothing. Which, honestly, was anything but usual.

Today, Derek decides on a floral print button-up, and a nice pair of green slacks. He doesn't bother with a jacket or blazer, it's too hot for that. He finishes the look by adding a belt with a chunky gold buckle, and his staple, snakeskin boots.

After getting dressed, he moves on to his hair, putting a small handful of product into his curls. The frosted tips are relatively new, and Derek smiles at his reflection. He looks pretty damn good, all things considered.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"Morning." You nod to Derek as he makes his way into the kitchen.

"Morning..." He mumbles back, taking a seat on a stool next to the island.

"How're you feeling?" You turn away from the breakfast you were beginning to prepare, just a gathering of ingredients really, and look him over.

He looks... tired. He's dressed in his regular clothes now... well, regular for Derek. You can't help but notice the way his leg bounces nervously, how he repeatedly reaches into his pocket, only to take his hand back out immediately.

"Fine." He answers flatly, turning and scratching at the back of his neck.

Hm. He sure didn't look fine.

"You know I'm here to help you, right?" You decide to take a risk and verbally prod him a little, just to see if he opens up.

He doesn't.

"Shouldn't you be cooking me breakfast?" He sneers, narrowing his eyes at you as you lean on the counter across from him.

Okay, that's enough sass.

"If you want to eat breakfast, you can help make it."

Derek scoffs at that.

"I don't cook."

"So you've said."

The two of you silently stare at each other for a few moments, Derek's eyes narrow while you remain calm and serious. Finally, he relents.

"Fuck are you even making?" He grumbles, shifting in his seat to peek over your shoulder at the ingredients you've gathered on the counter behind you.

"Pancakes." You step aside so he can see the box of pancake mix, and do your best to muster up a smile. He's grumpy, yeah, but not truly angry yet. Better not push him if an argument can be avoided.

"So... do you want to help me cook breakfast, or do last night's dishes?"

Derek looks back and fourth between you and the sinkful of dishes, frowning.

"...You said pancakes?"

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek grimaces as a bit of pancake batter splashes on his silk shirt from his sloppy whisking. How did he get roped into this? Cooking? Seriously?

"Is it supposed to look so... lumpy?" He asks, frowning as he lifts the whisk and watches the weird goop plop down into the bowl.

"Yeah, that's normal. Keep mixing, and scrape the bottom. You're doing great."

He sighs, but continues to whisk, more carefully this time. It's... not that hard, actually. Even if it looks lumpy and weird.

After a minute or so, you apparently decide he's done enough, and take the bowl from him.

"So... am I done?"

"...do you want to eat raw batter?"

"No."

"Then no."

Derek scowls, watching as you spray something on the pan.

"Then what am I-"

"Just wait. I'll explain."

He lets out a rather dramatic sigh, then leans against the counter and eyes you. As annoying as you are... he can't help but admit you're attractive. Just a little.

Soon, you're pouring batter into the pan and walking him through cooking a pancake. He's only half-listening. It should be easy. Let it cook on one side, flip it, let the other side cook. Right? Even he couldn't fuck that up.

"You ready to try?" You ask, giving him an eager smile. Damn. Okay, maybe you're more than just a little attractive.

Derek just nods and takes the bowl from you, pouring some batter into the pan, trying to mimic what you did. Unfortunately, he overshot his pour, and it spread out to fill almost the entire pan.

"It's okay." You assure him. "It'll just be a big one."

He resists the urge to make a stupid joke about his "big one", instead deciding to just shrug it off and move on.

"So.. how do I tell when it's ready to flip again?" He asks, shifting awkwardly as you both silently wait for the pancake to cook.

"When it starts bubbling at the edges. Look, there's already a few."

You point, and he leans down to watch it more carefully.

"...can I flip it now?"

"Yeah, go ahead. Just like I showed you."

Derek accepts the spatula you hand him, gently sliding it under the pancake. Okay... just flip it. No big deal.

He completely fucks it up. The oversized pancake folds in half over the side of the pan, batter splattering all over the stove. He jumps back in shock, then straightens himself and scowls when he hears you laughing.

"It's not funny." He glares at you, then turns his attention back to the sorry excuse for a pancake. It's half-cooked, dripping down the side of the pan and onto the stovetop.

"No, no... It's not. I'm sorry..." You choke out between wheezes.

"Make breakfast yourself." Derek huffs, throwing the spatula onto the counter and storming off.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

After taking a minute to calm yourself down from the laughing fit, and several minutes to clean up Derek's failed attempt at a pancake, you finally convince him to come try again.

"Here, I'll guide you through it this time." You place a hand over his as he holds the spatula, standing directly behind him and speaking in a soothing manner.

He glances back at you and shifts slightly, looking... nervous? No, no way. He's probably just still grumpy from earlier.

"C'mon, you only messed up last time because there was too much batter. You'll do fine." You assure him, giving his hand a light squeeze.

"Yeah... alright." He seems to stiffen from your touch instead of relax. Odd.

When it's finally time to flip it, you count down from three, then help guide him through the motion. This time, there's no mess. A perfect flip.

"See? You did great." You nudge him playfully with your elbow, giving him a grin.

"Yeah... I did." He mumbles and turns away, suddenly extremely interested in the bowl of batter.

Is he... blushing? You can't tell for sure, with his head turned, but the tips of his ears look a little... pink.

"Wanna make a few more, master chef Derek?" You tease him, leaning over to try and get a glimpse of his face.

"Calling me master already, sweetheart?" He quips back, turning to face you with a smirk of his own. Whatever blush you thought you saw is gone now, replaced by his usual cocky demeaner.

Of course he'd respond like that. Asshole.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek remains relatively quiet throughout breakfast, focusing mainly on stuffing his face.

He chews slowly, trying to wrap his head around what just happened. So many emotions are running through his head right now that he hardly feels his throbbing headache.

The way you smiled at him. How you didn't give up on him when he messed up. Fuck, you even held his hand. Well, you put your hand on top of his while he held a spatula. But still, that counted, right?

"So... what's the plan for today?" He finally asks, looking up at you from across the dining table."

"What do you mean?"

"Like... what are we gonna do? Sit on our asses all day?" He scowls, and stuffs another bite of pancake into his mouth.

"If that's what you want."

"Itths noht." Derek shakes his head, mumbling through a mouthful of food.

"Gross. Chew your fucking food." You give him a pointed look, then take a bite of your own breakfast.

"Whatever. Seriously. If I have to stay cooped up in this house for THREE WEEKS, I'm going to go insane."

"You're already pretty insane."

"I'll get worse."

You laugh at that, and Derek frowns. It's not funny. He's completely serious.

"Well... if you're that eager to get out, how about we walk down to the beach for the afternoon? Spend the day in the sand?"

"Yeah... that sounds nice."

He quickly finishes up the rest of his food, eager to get out. And maybe also excited at the prospect of seeing you in a bikini. Just a bit.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Around half an hour later, you walk downstairs, sporting a new bathing suit.

You study Derek, who's changed into swimming trunks. Cheetah print, obviously. Pfft. With the mullet and the animal print, he reminds you a lot of that one guy. What does he call himself? The... tiger king?

The thought makes you laugh, and Derek frowns.

"What's so funny?" He asks, eying you from the couch as he lounges with his feet up and his hands behind his head.

"Nothing. You look... nice." You nod to him, and give his body a quick once-over with your eyes. Definitely not checking him out. Not staring. At all.

Derek does the same to you, studying your choice of swimwear. You chose a one-piece swim dress, pink with a little pair of shorts built in under the skirt. It would be considered modest, if it weren't for the plunging neckline and the panel cut out of the back. Speaking of which...

"Hey, can you get my back for me?" You ask, holding up a bottle of sunscreen. That seems to break Derek out of his trance, and he sits up and pats the spot next to him on the couch.

"Sure, If you'll do mine."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek is a little disappointed about your swimsuit choice at first, but then he takes in the low neckline. And the skirt... damn. He knew there was probably something under it, but he couldn't help but imagine there wasn't, just for a moment.

And now you're asking him to rub sunscreen on your back? Holy shit.

"Like this?" He asks, applying a generous amount of the cream to your back.

"Mhm."

He takes a little bit of liberty and gets your shoulders as well, gently rubbing your skin and tucking his hands under the straps of your swimsuit to make sure every inch is covered. He has to restrain himself from letting his hands roam further.

"Here, do mine for me." He drops the sunscreen bottle into your lap and turns, his back facing you.

Christ. Your hands on his back feel... heavenly. He bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from letting out a groan.

"There. You're all covered." You finish by giving him a quick pat on the shoulder, then standing up and stretching. Derek can't help but stare as you do, and suddenly, he wishes his shorts weren't so... thin.

He shakes himself and stands as well, heading for the door. As long as he has his back to you, you won't notice just how much he likes that swimsuit of yours.

Unfortunately... you don't fucking leave him alone. Of course.

"Wait, did you get the rest of your body?" You ask, grabbing the little beach bag you packed and scurrying to catch up with him.

"I'll be fine." He answers, shrugging it off and walking a little faster to stay ahead of you.

"That's stupid. You want to burn everywhere but your back?"

"I'm not going to burn, sweetheart. I just tan."

"Derek. At least get the rest of your torso. And face. Please?"

He winces as you finally catch up to him and grab his arm, but he's mostly calmed down now, so he just sighs and nods.

"Fine. But I'll do it myself."

You two walk down a wooden path that eventually gets buried in white sand as you approach the beach. It's beautiful, open and empty, untouched by anyone other than the Danforth family.

Derek sloppily applies sunscreen as he walks, slathering it on his torso, neck, and face. When he's done with his half-ass job, he turns to you and scowls.

"There. Happy now?"

"Hold on, you didn't rub it in all the way..." You gently swipe at his cheek with your hand, smiling.

"Stop that." He mumbles, pressing his hand to his cheek in the spot you just touched.

"Stop what?"

"Treating me like a child."

You seem taken aback by that answer, because you don't respond for a minute, trudging through the sand in silence.

"I'm not trying to treat you like a child. But your mom did task me with taking care of you, so..."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm a grown man and I have a goddamn babysitter." He growls, though he can't really find it in himself to feel angry. Being taken care of... doesn't sound too bad right now.

"Oh, boohoo. Come on. Lets go swim."

"Uhh... I think I'll stay here." He mutters, sitting down in the sand and watching you make your way over to the ocean. When you had suggested spending the day in the sand, he'd assumed you meant... well, literally staying in the sand.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

You turn and frown as Derek plops down on the ground, refusing to budge.

"What? You scared to get a little wet?" You tease him, shouting to be heard over the waves. The cold water crashing over your ankles makes you shiver.

"No." He pouts, settling back against the beach bag you packed.

"Just... don't wanna."

That makes you even more confused. What's his deal? First he complains about being cooped up, then he refuses to go for a dip?

You trot back over to him, kicking up sand.

"Derek. Come on. I didn't do all this just to get blown off. Come swim with me." You tug on his arm, and he reluctantly gets up.

"I guess I could get my feet wet..." He scowls, looking at the ocean with disdain.

"You'll do more than that." You scold him, linking your arm in his and practically dragging him over to the water.

He makes a scrunched up face when the first wave hits him, washing over his feet and sinking his ankles into the sand.

When you try to tug him along further, he doesn't budge.

"I'm not getting in the water."

"Why not?" You finally ask, exasperated.

"I... I can't swim." He mumbles something, but the wind carries it away.

"What?"

"I can't swim." He groans, pulling away from you and burying his face in his hands.

This makes you pause, but only for a moment.

"Okay, then don't swim. Just come sit in the water." You make another grab for him, and he doesn't resist this time, letting you take him a few steps further. Once the water is about halfway to your knees, you lower yourself, and Derek sits beside you.

"This okay?" You ask, turning to look at him.

"It's cold. And wet."

"Yeah, that's... kinda how the ocean is."

You sit in silence for a few moments, until you finally clear your throat and speak up again.

"How have you gone this long without learning to swim? Don't you, like, host pool parties?"

"I mostly stick to the shallow end." He grumbles, shrugging the question off.

"Why not do the same here? Wade into waist-level with me?" You prod him with a finger, poking his side in a playful manner.

That just earns you a scowl.

"Because. There isn't a fucking shallow end in the ocean. It's... weird." He visibly shudders as he stares out into the endless waves, and shies back a bit.

You can tell this is a touchy subject for him, so you just sigh and let it go. Whatever. You can swim alone, right?

"Well, I'm going to go a little further in, you're welcome to join me."

With that, you stand and wade into the water, your walk turning to a paddle as the ground drops away beneath you. The ocean feels freeing, the gentle rocking of the waves lulling you into a trance-like state.

When you finally glance back at Derek, you see he's already sitting in the sand again, positioned so the waves can just barely reach his feet. Hm. He must really have a thing about the water.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

That night, Derek lies in bed, tossing and turning as he tries to fight away his many thoughts on the day's activities.

He thinks about cooking breakfast with you, how you held his hand and praised him for his efforts.

And oh god, your touch. He can practically feel your hands on his back still.

Then at the beach... you hardly reacted to his lack of swimming prowess. Though, he was still a little bitter you fucked off without him and left him to sit in the sand.

You made up for it tenfold at dinner, letting him help you in the kitchen. He didn't want to admit it, but he genuinely enjoyed learning to cook. Even if it did feel so... domestic.

He can still hear the words you spoke to him ringing in his ears as he shuts his eyes tight and tries to sleep.

"See? You've got it. Just like that."

"You're a natural."

"Keep going. Almost there."

Fuck. He couldn't squander his thoughts of you, no matter how hard he tried.

And that wasn't even his worst problem. You'd managed to distract him pretty damn well throughout the day, always keeping him busy with something.

But now, alone in his room, his head was pounding again, and all he wanted was a hit of his vape. Or maybe a shot. Or some blow. Just anything to get rid of the goddamn headache.

He groans and sits up in bed, and moves to do the only thing he can think to do. Go see you.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Author's note: Oh man. I dunno if I'm gonna be able to keep doing this whole "posting one chapter a day" thing for much longer. I originally intended this chapter to be 2k words, maybe 2.5k at most, but sheesh. It grew into this... and I wanted to write more, but stopped myself. It's currently 3am and I've worked on this for around 6 hours today.

Also... why did I make Derek unable to swim? Idk. Tertiary plot? The man doesn't have many personality traits in the cannon other than "douchebag rich brat with mommy issues". I'm trying to keep him in character, but it's hard when the character isn't all that fleshed out to begin with, so bear with me here.

ANYWAYS, hope y'all enjoy! Now is your time to send in Derek Danforth requests... cuz I'm writing this as I go along. Who knows? Maybe your suggestion will make it into the next chapter. & thank you to the anon who sent the kind words <3

Part 3

#jhutch #josh hutcherson #derek danforth #fanfic #josh hutcherson x reader #derek danforth x reader #the beekeeper #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #slowburn fic #slowburn romance

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carmyberzattosjournal · 3 months ago

Text

Entry 25: Some for the Chef

(No visual aid; Z is very tired)

Bearblr Promptober Day 25: Size Kink (sub: Praise Kink(?))

Summary: Carmy finally figures out the duck with apple pairing for the next month's menu, and his girlfriend (who he calls Darling) has some complements to offer him. Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of trauma, comfort, finger-sucking, Fem reader who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, does this count as a praise kink? Oh well (1162 words)

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list. Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for days.

25 Oct 2024

I don’t know how to take complements.

I get weird about it, okay? World spends enough time beating you up for shit, then—what?—someone just says something nice about you? The fuck am I supposed to do with that? Where’s the insult? Where’s the backhand?

It’s worse when it’s something I have no say over. Like since getting the fuck out of that house, I’ve gotten maybe 40 or 50 complements on my eyes. I get it, they’re huge (kind of creepy, honestly, why do people like them?), electric blue—almost an unnatural blue, but my eyelashes fall off into my eyes constantly because they can’t do their fucking job, I’ve had dark circles since I was ten, my eyebrows give up at the halfway point, I have that annoying little mole right under my eye, and if they don’t look cadaverous, they look irritated from all the shit in the kitchen or straight up fucking psycho.

I didn’t make them. I didn’t have any input into my stupid fucking owl eyes. Stop fucking complementing me on them.

“Oh my God, this is amazing,” Darling mumbled, grabbing the knife to get another slice of duck breast.

My back killed something fierce, but the pain momentarily vanished. My face hurt, I was smiling so broadly. “Yeah?”

“Mmhm! Fuck me.” She hadn’t even finished chewing her bite and was already cutting another. “Carmy, baby, this is so good. I’m so proud of you.”

Food? Food I could take a complement on. That felt like a complement, like a recognition of the effort I put into learning this craft. I’d been working on this duck with apple pairing for well over 2 weeks. I needed it by the next morning. It was my last real shot to get it right, and in a spurt of anxious energy, I got home from service with a haul of groceries and got right to trying the next iteration. It kept getting too sweet, like candied ham—only candied duck breast, which wasn’t the worst, but it wasn’t right. I wanted more of the gamey notes from the duck breast, that slight metallic aftertaste. Didn’t want it getting drowned by apple.

“Woah, woah there; leave some for the chef to try,” I said, rifling through the drawer for another fork.

“No, no, come here, sweetheart.”

She hooked my chin, brought the morsel of duck to my mouth. I did expect it to taste good—fuck me, it was perfect, moist, tender, savory, gamey, sweet, tart, rich but still fresh—but the abrupt sinking heat in the pit of my stomach, that burner-like flame that sparked to life when I met her adoring expression as she fed me the bite of food? That. That caught me by surprise.

She looked proud of me. Sure, I was still getting used to her saying it to me (it still felt weird as hell but also fulfilling whenever she said it. Or when Sugar said it. Wait, has she been talking to Sugar? Have they been coordinating?), but seeing it on her face, those little crinkles in the corners of her eyes when she smiled, that cute little head tilt—it fucking sent me. My face went hot like it did when I first talked to her, I got dizzy for a moment. My heart slammed into my ribs. I wanted to see that face again, her being proud of me. Maybe it says a lot about the shitty fucking life I’ve had, but I would chase that feeling, the flighty, floaty feeling I got when Darling looked proud of me to the ends of the Earth if I had to. I need it. I need it like I need water to live.

Joy? Is this what joy feels like?

“It could be the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” she murmured. She put the fork down, then picked it up, then put it back down.

It might be the second-best thing I’ve ever eaten. “Yeah. Yeah, the splash of apple cider in the duck stock when making the demi-glace was the last thing.”

Oh, and then the tension left. I didn’t realize how much being stuck on the last item for the menu change was weighing on me until the stress winding me tight as a pulled bowstring snapped, and I plopped into the nearest dinner chair. In an instant, my entire body felt heavy. It could’ve been made of lead. My eyes refused to stay open, stung like I got pepper in them, my temples throbbed, my hands ached from holding the knives and from washing them so many times. My back hurt so bad that I’m pretty sure I groaned in pain. My shoulders ached, the space between my shoulder blades and my spine prickled with pain, my ankles hurt. Why did my ankles hurt? And why was my face even hotter? Was I about to have a panic attack?

Darling nudged my knees apart and nestled herself between them, wove her hands in my hair, brought my cheek to her chest.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she whispered.

I tried coiling my arms around her, but my hands barely made it to her thighs. “Hi.”

“Aw, did you run out of power?” she cooed.

“Mmm. I’ve been up since 4.”

“I know.” She worked her fingers in circles over my scalp, setting off goosebumps. Cool. Mercifully cool. “I woke up because I got cold.”

I found the strength to pull her in, nuzzle into her sweater, and inhale her scent. “’m sorry, baby girl. Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Can you look at me?” she whispered.

Yes. Yes, anything, of course.

I peered up at her.

She traced her thumb along my cheekbone. “I’m never going to get over how blue your eyes are, pretty boy.”

I take back what I said about complements. Please, say it again. Please. Please, tell me what else you like. Call me pretty boy again. She brushed some of my hair off my forehead, cupped my face, and—I don’t know what came over me, okay, fuck off—I slid her hand down and sucked her thumb into my mouth. I just needed something, some kind of sensation, something to focus on as the noise of the day disengaged. Quieting down was still hard for me—maybe it’d be hard for my entire life—but fucking hell, I just needed something to trace with my tongue. It set off this hot, fuzzy feeling in my core, the inverse of a panic attack, that tightness I got when she moaned my name. No, no, it was that feeling I got when she made that high-pitched whine right before she tumbled into an orgasm. That deeply sated, yet still-somehow-starved brimstone that landed in the pit of my stomach as if dropped from the sky.

She cooed, kissed the top of my head. “What are you thinking, sweetheart?”

I’m thinking about making you whine for me, pretty girl. How’s that sound?

#cb journal #bearblrpromptober #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #the bear #carmen berzatto fluff

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