#they should keep making whatever music they want
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LN4 | Panic at the Disco – Part 2
Summary: When you call your brother to pick you up from the club, it's his best friend who answers.
Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader
WC: 2.4K
Warnings: insinuated sexual harassment/assault
Part 1
Masterlist
Lando turns on the engine as you get settled in the haphazardly parked car. He glances at you while you move around in the seat, buckling your belt. He just now notices the streaks in your makeup, although you’d tried your best to wipe them away, and how your fingers can’t seem to keep still. They’re running along the belt before fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Lando reaches out and squeezes your hand gently. You meet his eyes, which are desperately trying to make contact with yours, and you shoot him a quick smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Your behaviour makes it clear to Lando that you’re not okay yet. His joking around cheered you up, yes, but as soon as you’re out of his hold, you feel the same way as before.
Although the drive back is not as fast as Lando’s five-minute record time, it was quick. The faint hum of the engine and the music playing softly on the radio are the only sounds breaking the quiet as you stare blankly out of the window. Lando can’t seem to keep his gaze off you for longer than a second, his eyes constantly flitting between the road and your face, concern etched in his features. Your silence is highly unusual behaviour; normally, you can’t shut up, always ready to pick a fight with Lando over whatever topic comes to mind first. The fact that you’re not saying anything makes him worry.
You know he’s onto you when you constantly feel the weight of his eyes on your face. It’s even more reason for you to keep your face as neutral as possible, to not show how much tonight has affected you, but it’s extremely difficult with all the thoughts racing through your mind. The silence in the car isn’t helping either, doing nothing to keep you distracted or to keep the thoughts at bay. You’re so glad that you got away from that man in time, that there were other people there to help you, and that Lando (although you would have preferred literally anyone else at that time) came to get you so quickly, but you can’t help but think what would have happened if those people hadn’t paid attention to you, or if you’d been stuck at the club for longer – would that man have come to find you? To finish what he started? The thoughts of what might have been, or what may still happen some other time in the future, freak you out and you’re sure Lando knows it. Regardless, he keeps quiet, unknowingly aggravating your inner turmoil. He’s waiting for you to initiate conversation instead, not wanting to say the wrong things and accidentally make it worse. He doesn’t know that, in your opinion, nothing he could say at his moment might be wrong; anything is better than the silence occupying the small space.
But you don’t tell him that, and so, Lando doesn’t say anything when you stay in your seat, still staring out of the window after he stops the car. He doesn’t say anything when he opens your door and offers his hand to help you out of the vehicle. He doesn’t say anything about the confused look on your face when you realise he’s no longer driving but instead standing next to you, or the fact that your hands haven’t stopped fiddling with the hem of your dress from the moment you stepped into the car. He keeps quiet until both of you are inside the apartment, not speaking until he’s closed the door.
“You want some tea?” He asks nonchalantly. As if everything is normal, as it should be when it feels like nothing is.
You merely nod and follow Lando into the kitchen, passing your brother who’s passed out on the couch in the living room. He had obviously not missed Lando while he was gone.
You watch as Lando fills the glass kettle with water and turns it on. He leans against the counter, opposite you, as you wait for the water to boil. You stare at the kettle while Lando looks at you, his gaze unwavering. Although it’s not unusual for Lando to look at you, stare at you, even, the intention behind it seems different; Lando’s never been so serious or concerned. Usually, when he looks at you like this, you’ve gone a little too deep into a discussion again, and he’s too stubborn to back down. He’ll keep staring at you, forcing eye contact as a way to challenge you, although you suppose that’s exactly what he aims to do now. He’s trying to persuade you, as always, but not of his opinion this time; he’s trying to convince you to talk to him. He only proves you right when he relents, “You know you can talk to me right? About anything? You know I won’t judge you for whatever happened tonight?” He raises his eyebrows as he questions you.
The kettle turns off but Lando keeps his eyes on yours for a bit longer before making the tea. While he busies himself, you let his words sink in. Even though you haven’t always gotten along well, he can read you like an expert. You know exactly what he’s searching for, that he wants to know the details you haven’t given him – because he knows you haven’t told him everything. But you’re not ready to.
Lando hands you one of the mugs he’s holding. You take it with both hands, in the hope of warming up a little, while you gently blow on the tea to cool it to a drinkable temperature.
“I know, Lan. It’s just… I don’t know, it’s been a rough night, and really, I don’t want to think about it anymore.” You admit, looking up through your lashes to find Lando already staring at you, again.
Lando accepts the response and nods. At least now you know how he feels about it – if you didn’t already. He inhales deeply before pushing off the counter and walking to the living room. “You coming?” He asks softly before heading off.
You follow, of course. Lando stares at the couch, occupied by your brother who’s snoring obnoxiously loud. He had already forgotten about the sleeping man completely blocking all the seating. He sips his tea while thinking. “So this is obviously not going to work,” He chuckles and you join him, “let’s just go to bed? It’s already pretty late anyway, and I’m sure you’re very tired.”
You nod, agreeing with his suggestion, “I could definitely use some sleep.”
“Alright, you can stay in the guest room. I guess you’re lucky Max’s asleep on the couch. Otherwise, it would’ve been a bit difficult. I only have one extra bedroom.” Lando tells you while leading the way to the room.
“Lucky after all.” You say, sipping your tea.
“This is yours for tonight, then.” He opens the door for you and lets you enter the room first. You carefully put your mug on a dresser and quickly kick off your shoes before letting yourself fall face-first onto the plush-looking bed. Lando watches from the door opening, leaning casually against the doorpost as he watches you cuddle into the duvet.
“I was worried about you tonight.” He admits after a moment of silence. You twist your body and turn your face so you can see him, but you keep quiet. You’re a little surprised at his confession. Of course, you’re friends (sort of, at least) and he did come to save you tonight, but you weren’t expecting him to tell you so blatantly. Although, you, too, would be worried about Lando if something happened to him or if he called you upset.
“You sounded so freaked out on the phone, it seriously stressed me out. I’ve never heard you so upset.”
You push yourself up, fully facing him, now. You’re not sure how to respond to something like this. You want to apologise, but Lando continues before you can.
“I… I know maybe I don’t show it so much – or at least, I think I haven’t made it clear to you – but, I care about you, a lot.”
You smile at his admission.
“Sometimes I think maybe I care about you too much. Too much for just being friends, at least.” He avoids your eyes while he says it, seemingly shrinking into himself as if he’s afraid of your reaction.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen Lando shy like this. He’s always full of energy, extraverted and definitely not afraid to look you in the eyes. Hell, less than half an hour ago he was staring at you so intensely you were unable to look away. The highly unusual behaviour completely throws you off. But you imagine not saying anything will only make him more shy.
“Can you hand me my tea?” You finally ask him.
Lando stares at the ground a second longer. The only thought running through his head is how much he probably just screwed up your friendship, and possibly the one with your older brother, too. Seeing his reaction to your question, all you can think about is how what you just said was probably worse than saying nothing. He (sort of) admitted that he likes you, and you ask him to hand you your tea? What kind of person does that? Nevertheless, Lando walks into the room and grabs the mug off the dresser.
You get up on your knees while he moves closer to the bed. You don’t only grab your mug, but his as well once he gets close enough, and place them onto the bedside table next to you. Lando finally meets your eyes when your hands touch, the confidence and mischief usually apparent in his eyes replaced by vulnerability and honesty. You’re certain Lando can read the emotions showing on your face just as effortlessly as you can his, if not even more so. You feel uncertain and at a loss for words at the unfamiliar glance in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, that was stupid. I just… I don’t know what to say,” You finally admit, breaking the heavy silence in the room.
Lando’s lips curve into a hesitant smile and his eyes soften as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You don’t have to say anything,” He murmurs, gaze locked on his own hand moving along the side of your face as he pushes the hair back. You nearly melt at the sweet (or is it enamoured?) expression on his face as he looks at you – as if you’re the most precious thing in this world. Not to mention how close you are to each other right now.
“I want to say something though,” You whisper back, eyebrows furrowed and teeth nibbling on your bottom lip as you think of what to say.
“I care about you too, you know? A lot, also too much for a friend of my brother’s or just a friend, I think.”
A bigger smile spreads across Lando’s face at your confession, unbelievably happy to know you feel the same way as him. He moves his hand back to your cheek, running his thumb over your cheekbone softly, admiringly.
“I know this is probably really bad timing, with everything that happened tonight-”
“Please don’t mention it, I don’t want to think about it.” You breathe out, interrupting Lando.
“-but can I please kiss you?” He asks, moving his face a tiny bit closer to yours.
You nod quickly, without thinking. It’s like a reflex, like you need Lando to kiss you. Although you’ve been trying all night to forget about what transpired earlier, you can’t ignore or forget the way Lando made you feel when he held you, and how much you need to feel it again. He made you feel safe, protected and loved. No one has ever made you feel that way to such an extent, not your closest friends, your brother, or even your parents. If someone had told you yesterday that you felt the need to be kissed by Lando, you would have laughed in their face, but now, it was the only thing on your mind.
Lando leans in closer, drawing you near with the hand on your cheek. You brush your fingers along his face, tracing his jawline as his lips finally meet yours. He tenderly strokes your face before he moves his hand to the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair, while the other rests on your waist. You feel his eyelashes tickle your skin when he pulls you even closer, and it makes you feel so good. It feels so good to have someone who cares about you so much that they’d come in the middle of the night to save you, to make you feel safe and comfortable as soon as they touch you. You’re completely lost in the feeling Lando gives you, and the thought that you could have experienced this so much sooner if you hadn’t been so busy fighting with him.
Your lips move against his slowly while he holds you close. The butterflies in your stomach flutter when you feel his chest pressed to yours. Throwing your arms over his shoulders, you run your hands through his hair. Softly, you pull on his curls, revelling in the sensation of his kiss before you pull away. His lips look red and swollen when you open your eyes and you bite your lip at the sight. You admire his face, his mischievous smile, and the loving gaze with which he looks at you, and you’re sure you have to look the same way.
Your hands have moved down to Lando’s shoulders when you ask him, “You’ll stay with me?”
He squeezes your waist gently and kisses your forehead before murmuring, “Of course, anytime you want me to.”
You give him a quick kiss, which earns a smile in return, before pulling Lando onto the bed. He gets settled before you do, opening up his arms so you can cuddle into him. You scooch closer and nestle your face in the crook of his neck, closing your eyes and sighing softly once you’re comfortable. He pulls you closer to his body, holding you tight, before placing a kiss on the top of your head.
“Thank you, for tonight.” You whisper.
Lando pulls you just a little tighter, and mumbles sleepily “I’ll always come when you call, love.”
You smile, pleased with his answer before you drift off to sleep together, cosily snuggled up.
#Lando Norris#Lando#Norris#Fanfic#Fanfiction#Lando Norris fanfic#Lando Norris fanfiction#Lando fanfic#Lando fanfiction#Lando Norris x reader#Lando Norris x Y/N#Lando x reader#Lando x Y/N#Formula 1#Formula 1 fanfic#Formula 1 fanfiction#F1#F1 fanfic#F1 fanfiction#LN4 fanfic#LN4 fanfiction#LN4 x reader#LN4 x you#LN4 imagine#LN4 one shot#LN4#Lando Norris one shot#Lando Norris imagine#Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader
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⎯ STOCKHOLM. christopher bahng chan
🎧 : bang chan x female reader
TROPE. age gap! au (chan is 37, reader is 18), kidnapper x kidnapped
WORD COUNT. 2.5k
WARNINGS. drinking, mentions of drugs, illegal activities, nineteen-year age gap, kidnapping, reader falls in love with her kidnapper, sadism + masochism
SYNOPSIS. on the morning of january first, y/n wakes up chained to a wall, stripped to her undergarments, and a camera pointed right at her. strangely enough, behind the camera is what looks like a harmless, friendly, incredibly attractive man. as y/n and the mysterious Bang Chan begin to learn more about each other, y/n finds herself succumbing to stockholm syndrome: falling in love with her very own kidnapper
SMUT WARNINGS. sadism + masochism, use of vibrator, some non-con themes, sextape making, overstimulation + edging, corruption kink, exhibitionism, dumbification kink
As your eyes opened, you expected to wake up somewhere you didn't know. You were absolutely wasted the night before - New Year's Eve - and you had been almost one-hundred percent sure you would wake up in someone else's bed. However, you hadn't imagined that you would wake up with shackles around your ankles and wrists, keeping you tight against a concrete wall in a cold room that somewhat resembled your great-grandmother's basement.
You're flabbergasted, to say the last. In all of your years getting drunk and fucking random people, you had never been kidnapped. And either this guy was really fucking kinky, or you had been kidnapped.
You suspect the latter, seeing the tape recorder set up on a tripod in front of you, facing you. As you survey your surroundings, you also take in your attire - completely nude, spare for your lacy white bra and matching panties, complete with a small white bow.
"Morning."
You look up, startled at the handsome guy that you hadn't noticed enter the room.
"Y/N, right? I'm not sure I caught your name last night."
You vaguely remember his face as one of the guys you had danced with the night before, letting him grind up against you and grope your body to the beat of the music. You nod at him.
"Do you know why you're here, Y/N?"
You shake your head, staying silent.
"I find you quite beautiful, actually." The man has a thick Australian accent, one you're sure you remember from the party. "Really, a work of art. An ass to kill for, and apparently, unmatched intelligence."
"That's just a rumor," you say finally.
"Ahhhh, she speaks. You have such a pretty voice, sweetie." He sends you a dimpled smile. "I really don't think it is, though. Your IQ is three higher than that of Albert Einstein. Do you know what that means, sweetheart?"
You watch him, waiting for an answer.
"It means you are a certified genius." The man's smile drops. "This is why you've peaked my interest."
"'Cause I'm good at taking tests?" you ask softly.
He shakes his head. "Much more than that. I want to pick your brain apart, pretty girl. I wanna find out what makes you tick." Then, he smiles again, wickedly. "But more than that, I want to humiliate and violate you in ways you wouldn't have thought possible."
So that's what he is, you think to yourself. A psycho with a god complex.
"Do you think I can do that?" he asks.
"Do what?"
"Everything I just said."
"Yes I do."
He tilts his head at me. "Giving in so easy?"
"What else should I do?"
He moves closer to you, taking your chin in his hand and examining your face. "I suppose you're right."
You watch him, utterly stunned at how fucking exquisite your kidnapper's appearance is.
He backs away from you now, moving behind the tape recorder. He repositions it so that it's trained on you, then turns the viewing component of it so that you can see yourself, dangling helplessly and half-naked from the wall. "I'm going to start, yes?"
You nod slowly. You know that fighting whatever this man was about to do to you would be futile, so you waited and watched, eyelashes fluttering.
He retrieves a knife from a table of dangerous-looking utensils off to your left, returning to you.
"What should I call you?" you ask him suddenly, dreading the feel of the knife tracing your skin.
"Chris," he says simply. "In Korea, they call me Chan. Here they call me Chris."
"Chris? Or Chan? Which do you prefer?"
He tilts his head, as if puzzled by the question. "I'm not sure."
"I like Chan. It suits your face."
"Does it now?"
You nod, humming a "yes."
Chan's lips quirk up in a half-smile, and you find yourself smiling back. "First things first," he says after a moment, "I need to mark you."
"Mark me?"
He nods. "It won't hurt long, love." He moves around you, to your left side, and grasps your thigh gently. You bite back a gasp, watching as he lifts the knife. It's digging into your skin before you can protest, drawing a thin line of scarlet over the plush skin. You register in your mind it hurts, but it fascinates you to watch, taking your thoughts off the pain and onto the beauty of the letters that he's now carved into your leg. B.C., in small, pretty writing right in the middle of your thigh.
"Painful?" he asks, moving back to the table to the side and retrieving some sort of paper towel, returning to you and gently dabbing at the blood.
You blink. "A little."
"You didn't scream," he says.
"I didn't."
"I wish you would have."
"Would you like me to now?"
"No, sweetheart, don't force it."
You're surprised at how easy this conversation comes to you. This man just cut his initials into your thigh, and all you could think about were his pretty dimples and crinkly eyes.
"Where are you from?" you ask.
Chan looks up at you. "You baffle me," he says, examining you. Then, "I was born in Seoul, but I grew up in Sydney." He pauses. "You?"
You tell him where you were born, surprised at how intently he listened to you.
"I like hearing you speak," he says. "Your voice is beautiful."
You stay quiet, unsure what to think.
"I bet your screams would be beautiful too." A mischievous expression flits across his face. "You know what I bet would be the most beautiful of all?" He leans in close to you, so that his lips are right next to your ear. "Your moans."
You blink dumbly up at him.
"Look at you." He cradles your cheek in his hand, watching you with a bittersweet expression. "Intelligence already crumbling. I thought you'd last longer, sweetie."
You're tongue-tied, both disgusted and turned on by the sadistic words.
He pats your cheek once, twice, then turns away. "I'll be back later to bring you dinner, and a fun little toy."
"What am I supposed to do until then?" you ask quickly, desperate for him not to leave you. As much as you don't want to be down here with him, you even less want to be down here without him.
He shrugs. "You'll find something." Then he pauses. "Actually . . . would you like your toy early, hmm?"
You nod slowly. Chan retreats from the room, returning a few minutes later with a white box. He opens it, inside awaiting what looked like a vibrator. Nope, scratch that, it was a vibrator.
You swallow, looking at it, and Chan grins at you. "The best form of torture is too much pleasure, don't you agree, sweetie?"
You swallow hard, finding yourself nodding nervously.
Chan moves back over to you, stepping gracefully, and smiles. "For the next three hours, this is going to be attached directly to your clit."
You only stare at him.
He begins by removing your panties, then your bra, leaving you completely bare for him, and for the tape recorder.
"Pretty pussy," he mumbles, as though to himself. He leans forward, using one finger to spread your lower lips and another to prod around your private area, poking gently into your hole, then around your clit. Finally, he stops, bringing up the vibrator and configuring it so that the head stayed directly on your clit. He gently turns it on, watching as you gasp a little.
"Three hours," he says, tapping his wrist, then turning the vibrator to the highest setting. "I'll see you, pretty girl."
The moment the door is closed, unable to bite back the noises produced from this torturous device.
Three hours later, you've passed out four times, came at least twenty, and are shaking, dripping sweat, and sobbing. Your clit burns with too many sensations, and your stomach convulses violently with every buzz being emitted into your core.
When Chan reenters the room, he carries with him a plate of food. He sets it down quickly upon seeing your ragged state, mouth open slightly as he watches you.
You hardly notice him enter, buzzing with too many sensations. You only snap back to reality when you hear a shutter flick in front of you, and you find that he's taken a Polaroid photo of you.
He stays silent, listening to you whimper as the film develops. When it's complete, he turns off the vibrator, and you slump in your shackles. You feel him unlock your ankles, then your wrists, and you drop to your knees on the floor, still shaking vigorously.
Chan kneels beside you, brushing your hair from your face and soothingly thumbing your cheek. "Tired?"
You nod.
"Too tired to eat?"
You nod again.
"No you're not." He stands, retrieving the plate of food he brought with him. On it is what looks like a rather appetizing piece of chicken, salad, and small bowl of pasta. "Eat."
"What if I don't want to?"
"I'll force feed it to you."
You can't tell if he's joking, so you shakily take a bite. You struggle as you pick up your fork, and Chan takes it from you exasperatedly. "Let me," he says. He gathers a bit of salad on the fork, taps your jaw for you to open your mouth, and puts it in. You close your mouth, letting the lettuce fall onto your tongue, eyes locked with his.
"I'm sorry," you find yourself saying.
"Why?"
"I'm shaking."
"That's not your fault, is it?"
You shake your head.
"Then why are you sorry? Hmm?"
You shrug as he puts another bite of salad in your mouth.
The two of you stay silent for the rest of the meal. That night, he doesn't reshackle you, but locks the door behind him. The next day, he returns. At least, you assume it's the next day. You're not sure how much time has passed since you've woken up in this dank room. He'll come for a few hours in the morning, then leave for a few hours, then return for a few more. Each time he returns, he asks about you. As if he truly wants to get to know you, instead of killing you. He continues torturous ministrations, destroying your body and your mind in one. And somehow, you hardly mind.
Finally, on the evening of what you can guess is the ninth day, he returns as usual, bringing with him a meal.
He watches you eat, tongue in his cheek. "I'd like to bring you upstairs today."
You pause to stare at him. "Up . . . upstairs?"
He nods. "You should shower, before you stink any more."
You look down. "It's not exactly that sanitary down here."
"I'm well aware. That's why I'm bringing you up. I quite like you, honestly. So I'd like to propose to you an offer."
"An offer?"
"An offer. An exchange, I suppose. Your freedom for your service."
"Go on."
"You will marry me. You will be presented as my wife, and you will act as such in the public eye. In private, you are mine. You're my slave - my belonging."
"I just have to stay with you?" You look up at him. You're smart enough to know that even seeing the sunshine for a day being married to a kidnapper would be better than rotting down here until he eventually decided he'd had enough and kill you. Your mind was made up, but you were curious.
"Yes, love. I'm fond of you, actually."
Fond of me. You ponder this. "Okay . . . I'll do it. First, though, I have a question."
"Shoot."
"How old are you?"
Chan looks down. "I'm thirty-seven."
"Oh."
He nods. "You?"
"Eighteen." You meet his eyes.
"So young and fragile." Chan traces his fingers over your cheek. "So much to corrupt, hmm?"
You nod.
"Come on, you need to shower."
You let him bring you upstairs. You leave the basement into a small house. The walls are pretty pastels, decorated with plants and paintings of all varieties. Chan brings you away from the main floor, up another flight of stairs to what you can guess is his bedroom. It's neat and tidy, and an open door off to your right is your best guess at a bathroom.
He brings you into the bathroom, letting you strip out of the clothes he gave you a few days before, after finally giving in to your begging for warmth. You jump a little as he starts to remove his shirt. "What are you doing?"
"Stripping. I'm joining you."
"Um, why?"
"'Cause I'm not letting you off yourself with a razor in my shower."
"I wasn't gonna off myself with a razor in your shower."
"How do I know that?"
You watch him, deciding not to argue. The water is already on, steaming up the room, and his skin glistens with every movement. You avert your eyes from his dick, but you can see its general shape in your peripheral vision. Huge.
He pulls you into the shower by your waist, stepping in behind you. He'd seen you naked before, but something about this close proximity and steamy room felt so much more intimate than the hours of sextapes he had filmed of you.
Chan helps you wash your hair, then your body. His touch lingers over your curves, rubbing you in a way that you didn't know was possible. It's only moments after that you find yourself hoisted up, legs tucked around his waist, hands running through his hair, head tipped back as his lips attach to your neck.
"Do you promise to be mine?" he whispers into your jaw, teeth grazing your Adam's apple.
"I promise," you say desperately, watching him with hooded eyes.
He pushes inside you with no warning, already rock hard. You feel the tip of his member kissing your cervix, pressing in just the right ways against your walls. He kisses you hard, pushing you against the wall of the shower. Chan is thrusting inside you slowly, mouth struggling to stay attached to yours as the two of you are overwhelmed by emotions and sensations.
You cum at the same time as him, coaxing every last drop of cum from his cock.
You collapse into him, shaking as you come down from your high. He holds you gently, turning off the water and helping you out of the shower. He's wordless as he wraps a warm towel around you, kissing your forehead as he dries you, then himself, then helps you to his bed.
"Just sleep, love," he tells you softly. "I'll wake you up in the morning."
The next morning, Chan is beside you, sleeping soundly. For some reason, you're comforted by the sight. The man who kidnapped you nine days ago - who would have thought you'd be madly in love with him by the end of it all.
TAGLIST ⎯
@jisunglyricist @hash2013
let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!!
#smut#stray kids#skz#bang chan#felix#han#lee know#seungmin#hyunjin#oneshot#kidnapper#kidnappers#kidnap au#murder#horror#bang chan smut#bang chan x you#chan x reader#chan smut#bang chan x reader#bang chan imagines#prod.j.one
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going on solo dates
pick a date and time that works for you, i like evenings.
🎀
choose a location you feel comfortable in, a cozy cafe, a park, or even a museum. also libraries >>>
🎀
plan ahead by checking the opening hours of your chosen spot. i can't tell you how many times i've gotten to the library and it's closed for some reason :(
🎀
dress in whatever makes you feel confident and relaxed. i like staying comfy mostly, but sometimes i like to wear pretty dresses for no reason.
🎀
bring along something to keep you entertained, like a book, journal, or headphones for music. cause ya know, vibes.
🎀
order your favorite food or drink and take your time savoring it without distractions. that's the whole premise of a solo date: take your time, because there's no pressure!
🎀
do what YOU want to do. i like people-watching and taking photos. and reading.
🎀
be present in the moment and just enjoy your own company, without worrying about what others might think.
🎀
take a lil bit of reflection time afterward. did you hate it? did you love it? was there something you want to do next time? something you want to avoid? you should always focus on what's best for YOU during solo dates.
#solo date#solo#solo dates#that girl#it girl#self care#pink#vanilla girl#cute#self reflection#self help#self improvement#self love
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I think James should give some attention to Regulus too. Can you write some hcs of just Jegulus?
sure nonnie <3 i’d love to. jeggy does have my heart very much, and regulus deserves attention as well! i’ll give some sfw & nsfw ones.
— on the outside, we see that regulus is the very formal, stoic kind of person whereas james is the one always making jokes and filling the room with chatter and laughter, but i like to think that behind closed doors these two are complete opposites. with regulus, james can be quiet. he doesn’t have to put on a show for others because he knows reg accepts him for who he is. and vice versa where regulus feels like he can chat away for hours to james, and james will never tell him to stop talking. he’ll even nudge regulus gently or press a kiss to his temple and encourage him to keep going if reg starts to get particularly shy about his rants.
— despite james’ natural romancing and wooing personality, he (and reg) both like to keep most of their date nights at home. that’s not to say that they don’t like going out because they do. but when they go out, it’s like a big ordeal because james can and will wine and dine regulus to the fullest extent. i’m convinced their first date was at a really fancy restaurant because james wanted to impress reg so bad, and then they end up laughing when they leave because it was soooo not their scene. they end up on james couch, reg’s legs in james’ lap while eating ice cream from the tub.
— let’s be real, james is a little Arrogant and regulus is never afraid to call james out, he’s even encouraged to do so. same in the sense when reg gets a little snarky with his tone because he has a Bone to pick with every person to ever exist for god knows what reason.
— as much as i adore the whole grumpy/sunshine dynamic, regulus isn’t always grumpy or mean to james. of course, the teasing is always there, but james and reg have a very healthy relationship, even if they had to work really hard for it. that said, regulus is actually very far from grumpy, and not a whole lot actually disappoints him. he thoroughly enjoys giving james pet names and watching James’ cheeks go all ruddy when he’s feel sentimental.
— one thing is for sure is that they have vastly different tastes in music, so they could be cleaning the house one day, music playing in the background, and it would go from tchaikovsky to the backstreet boys to yoke lore to lil uzi vert sorry i don’t make the rules here
— Very adventurous in the bedroom. as in they are open to trying anything to other wants to for the most part. shibari is just so jeggy to me. i adore the thought of reg tying james up and leaving him to his own devices while he leaves the room, just to get james worked up into a frenzy
— actually big exhibitionists/lovers of (semi)public sex and not necessarily by choice. they get Horny all. the. time. and unfortunately that means they have to do something about it, no matter where they are. so be it, reg looked hot in those pants he just tried on, so of course james is going to fuck him in the changing rooms, you gotta do what you gotta do
— i talk about this one frequently, and i know it’s a popular one, but james is the king of giving head. simple as that. but let’s also remind ourselves that reg ALSO loves giving head, like he’s very greedy about it. loves it when his eyes get all watery and he’s crying and lowkey i think about james licking away the tears afterwards because it turns him on more than it should
— these horny fuckers fuck in the shower more than any other relationship i’ve ever heard of. it’s a problem only because they’re trying to get ready for the day or night or whatever and they get soooo handsy, so what else are they supposed to do
(this is getting a lot longer than i anticipated, so if you would like any more hcs, let me know, and i might do a part 2!)
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Hidden Flames : Chapter 7
Word Count : 1.6k
Warnings : swearing, drinking, brief mention of sex, wanting to be someone else, angsty angst
Mingi wasn’t sure what he was thinking when ran out the door, almost slamming it behind him. Panic and worry flowed through him when he saw those pictures, read those texts. He’s been keeping this secret to himself since high school. The words I’m in love with you seemingly always on the tip of his tongue when she was around.
He knows Mae wouldn’t do anything to ruin his friendship with Y/n. Not on purpose anyway. But he just cannot have her try to play wingwoman when he’s done everything in his power to keep his friendship completely platonic. Partying whenever he could. Finding a new girl to go home with, or bring home, every time he went out. Trying to forget even for a second that he was in love with his best friend.
But without even realizing it, he always seems to go after someone that has something that reminds him of Y/n. Her eyes. Her smile. Her laugh. Anything to help him imagine Y/n. And he knows it’s wrong. It’s disgusting. It’s hurtful to everyone involved. And it’s pushing Y/n away. Ruining the very friendship he’s been spiralling trying to keep.
Which is why he didn’t think of a gameplan before running out of the house. He just knew he had to get to Y/n before Mae spilled. And he knew exactly where to go. Knew exactly which club they were at. Mae has brought him there a few times. It’s her favourite. Her go-to. The route is basically engrained in his mind at this point. He could probably drive there with his eyes closed.
Every red light had him tapping the steering wheel and staring at the time. Seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours. He starts wondering if he should have walked. Ran. Maybe it would have been faster. Maybe he’d be there by now. Bursting through the doors like this was some drama and he was the main lead.
But is this episode four or episode twelve? Is he going to go in there and lay everything on the table? Place his heart in her hands and trust she won’t break it? Take her hand and bring her home? Or is he going to go in there and hide his feelings like he’s been doing? Act like it’s ridiculous for him to ever have feelings for her? Pretend like he went there for someone else?
The music hits his ears first. A song that he’s heard many times before, but that’s not what catches his attention. A familiar laugh is what he hears next, his head snapping in that direction. Y/n’s head is thrown back in laughter, her arms loosely draped over Mae’s shoulders, while Mae had her arms around Y/n’s waist to keep her close. Mae continued to whisper things in Y/n’s ear that would make her laugh, and Mae would smile, looking at her like she was the most fascinating thing she’s seen. You could almost confuse them for a couple if it wasn’t for the distance between them.
Y/n was clearly intoxicated. That was the first thing Mingi noticed about her. Barely dancing, more swaying while Mae tells her who knows what. The next thing was what she was wearing. The short skirt and tube top with a leather jacket. An outfit he’s sure she didn’t have before. An outfit he’s sure Mae picked out for her while they were shopping.
But he couldn’t stop staring. He just stood in the same spot for a while, watching her, a small smile on his face, taking in everything about her. He’s still unsure of what he’s going to do, what he’s going to say. But he enjoyed this moment for a little while. Knowing that whatever is about to happen will change his relationship with Y/n forever.
He started walking towards them. Mae was the first one to notice him, smirking when she saw his face, his eyes still hadn’t strayed from Y/n. It was all the confirmation she needed that she was right. “Come all this way just to see how hot Y/n looked?” She teased, removing her arms from Y/n’s waist and crossing them over her chest. Y/n looked over at Mae before looking back at Mingi, her cheeks flushed as she waited for his answer.
His eyes widened, not expecting to be called out so soon. “N-n-no.” He stutters out, looking between the two girls, his ears turning bright red. Mae giggles and goes to give them alone time when Mingi asks a question that stops her in her tracks. “Wh-where’s Kayla?” Mae looks at Mingi to see if he’s being serious and then looks back at Y/n, watching as she tried not to let her face show how hurt she felt in that moment.
“She went with Cassi to get us drinks.” Y/n said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Mingi nodded and thanked her, turning away from them and began walking towards the bar, but something stopped him. The look in Y/n’s eyes flashed in his mind again and again, and he turns around to see Mae bringing her to an empty booth not far from where they were dancing.
Flashing lights and music that is far too loud take over his senses as he stands there, staring at Y/n. It’s taking everything in him to not walk over there and confess everything right here right now. His defences are falling the longer he looks at her. And he finds himself slowly walking towards them, pushing his way through the people on the dance floor. He’s a few feet away when he hears his name.
Kayla and Cassi approach him, and he looks between them and Y/n and Mae. It’s now or never. Whatever he chooses now will decide his fate. It will decide his future with Y/n. He can either keep their friendship completely platonic the way he has for years now or ruin it all. Spill his guts, confess his undying love. “What are you doing here, big boy?” Kayla asks for a second time. She looks passed him and sees Mae and Y/n watching them. And she wonders what happened while she was gone getting drinks.
Mingi turns and cups her face. “Kiss me.” He says. “Please.” He begs. Kayla nods and Mingi presses his lips to hers. Cassi immediately walks away, handing the second drink in her hand to Y/n who quickly takes a sip, trying her best to not look.
Kayla soon approaches the booth, handing a drink to Mae with an awkward smile, Mingi following closely behind. He wraps an arm around her waist, holding her close to him. He notices that Y/n isn’t looking up from the table. Even when someone starts talking, she keeps her head down.
Mingi has no idea who is talking or what is being talked about, his focus only on Y/n, wondering if he made the right choice. She slowly sips on her drink until she seemingly can’t take it anymore and downs the rest of it and exclaims that she wants to go home. “I’ll call Joongie.” Cassi says, pulling out her phone, but Y/n shakes her head.
“I want to go home.” The way she said it made Mingi’s heart both flutter and break. Because she wants to go to the home they share, but she wants to go when he’s not there. His body flinches when she says it though, ready to take her home. But Kayla rests her hand on top of his and he stops, looking down at her. Her face is straight, seemingly no emotion, but Mingi knew her. He could tell there was something going on in her head, but he didn’t bother to ask.
Y/n texts Yeosang who, luckily for her, is still awake. He rushes out the door in a similar manner to Mingi earlier in the night. Worry taking over his body, wondering what could have happened for her to suddenly need him to pick her up. So many scenarios crossed his mind, but he tried not to think about it. Focused only on getting to her and bringing her home. He’ll worry about what happened later.
Yeosang rushed through the doors, his head swiveling around looking for Y/n. Mingi was who he saw first, Kayla in his arms. He put two and two together and figured out why Y/n needed him. He wasted no time in getting to her, pushing Mingi to the side to help her up and pull her into his arms. “Hey pretty girl. Let’s get you home, yeah?” She nodded with a pout. Yeosang shot a glare towards Mingi before focusing all his attention on Y/n.
“Thanks for coming, Sangie.” She said as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Her voice was soft and quiet. Yeosang had to strain his ears to hear her over the music. He pulled her closer, smiling down at her.
“I said I’ll always be there and I meant it, pretty.” The two were so focused on each other that neither of them noticed the two pairs of eyes following them. One person wishing she was Y/n, and the other wishing he was Yeosang. But the pair don’t know that Yeosang and Y/n were also wishing they were someone else. Yeosang was wishing he was Mingi, and Y/n was wishing she was Kayla.
back to masterlist
@mxnsxngie @maeleelee @acrylishly @felixmainacc @junebug032 @hanschimpmunk @smally97 @lethallyprotected @eastleighsblog @abbiestearsricochet @berryblog @th3melthatfell @weird-bookworm @randomwimp @dreamingaboutjisung @the-lemon-boy @choisoorin @minhoino @retromalum @okkkcausewhet @jisungxident @tattywood @jaydebow @huachengsbestie01 @thatfavouritesong @quesweebs
#ateez imagine#ateez x reader#ateez au#ateez smau#ateez fake texts#ateez series#ateez#song mingi imagine#song mingi x reader#song mingi au#song mingi smau#song mingi fake texts#song mingi series#kang yeosang imagine#kang yeosang x reader#kang yeosang au#kang yeosang smau#kang yeosang fake texts#kang yeosang series#park seonghwa#kim hongjoong#jeong yunho#kang yeosang#choi san#song mingi#jung wooyoung#choi jongho
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Heading to the spider’s nest
Chapter 6 is out!!
“It feels good to be doin’ my own business for once, Husker,” Angel said, stretching his arms above his head. It brought attention to a silky blouse he was wearing, paired with a tiny plaid skirt. Angel vowed to find something more matronly on the way home.
“Didn't you do shit for yourself all the time outside of the studio?” Husk asked, stretching his wings back behind him. “As far as deals went, yours was fairly lax.”
“Psh. I'm gonna tell you the scars I got under my fur say otherwise,” Angel rolled his eyes. He turned the corner, heading towards the dingiest part of the city.
“You should show me sometime,” Husk said, his voice low and flirty.
Angel grinned, “shut up, Kitty Cat. I got fuckin’ work to do. I can't be all weak kneed.” Though he was still trembling from the withdrawals, it was an easier shaking to handle than tummy flips.
“Do we have a plan?” Husk asked.
“Mm. Well, I figured I'd just go in and ask,” Angel answered. “I mean, my Father is probably gonna be a real prick, but Arackniss will tell me whatever I want if I ask real nice.”
“And your Mother?”
“Ma will probably tell me somethin’ crazy stupid and hand me the worst mixtape ever made. I'm glad she's moved on from records, though, those are annoying to carry around.”
“Your ‘Ma’ likes music?” Husk asked, a small smile playing on his lips. “Was she big in the jazz scene?”
Angel shrugged a little, “I mean, maybe? She was usually gettin’ pushed around by Dad. He's a real asshole.”
“Am I going to have to watch out for him?” Husk raised his eyebrows. “Am I going to need to be a barrier between you two?”
“Why ya askin’ these kinda questions?” Angel asked, frowning.
“It's not the first time I've gotten married on a whim and met the parents after the fact. It's also not the first time I've had to deal with my spouse’s shitty father.”
Angel paused his step.
“You've been married before?”
Husk stopped a few feet ahead, turning his head back. “Twice…technically three times if you count that ceremony in India.”
“Excuse me?” Angel wheezed. “How come you've never said nothin’?”
“You've never asked.” Husk tapped his foot until Angel started walking again. “It's not common to just discuss topside life unless you're freshly buried.”
“Well, yeah…Yeah, I know that. I'm just…” Angel chewed his lip. “I feel like I shoulda asked that.”
Husk patted his own jacket and pulled out a flask. “What else do you feel like you should ask?” He took a swig.
Angel held his hand out until Husk gave him a sip. “Do you got any kids?”
Husk sighed. “Makes sense that was the next question. Two. One of my girls is in hell as far as I know.”
“Am I gonna meet her after this?” Angel’s heart was slamming in his chest as he handed back the flask.
“She told me not to talk to her after my second marriage. She's made it clear that we're not going to down here.” Husk tilted his head back on his next drink.
Angel asked quickly, “And how'd your first marriage end?”
“Hah.” Husk smirked a little. “Fucked a twink outside of a club in Chicago after I botched a magic show.”
“So she caught ya?”
“No…No, I couldn't keep that a secret.” Husk capped his flask. “I had a tendency to wear my heart on my sleeve…I learned to play my cards close to my chest after that. My second marriage ended after I gave her the clap.”
Angel barked out a laugh then covered his mouth. “Sorry, sorry! I thought it woulda been the gamblin’...I didn't realize you were a whore.”
Husk decidedly reopened his flask.
“The gambling didn't help.” He took a drink. “Sometimes it was the stakes I was bettin’ on that got me into someone's bed. Sometimes I…just couldn't help myself.” Husk wrinkled his nose, “it's no excuse. I don't find myself attracted to a lot of people, but when I do, it can be hard to control the urge.”
“Should I be insulted that you barely looked at me then?” Angel crossed his arms.
“You get insulted if someone misgenders your pig.”
“Fat Nuggets is a prince and should be respected,” Angel pouted.
“Hm.” Husk finally tucked his flask away. “No, I wouldn't be too worried if I were you, Angel. You're interestin’ when you're being honest. Plus you're gorgeous, which is a bonus.”
Angel blushed beneath his fur. He tightened his crossed arms over his chest and stomach, trying to contain the butterflies. “I mean…you're not half bad yourself. Am I gonna have to drag you home from some dame's house occasionally when you get too ‘hot and bothered’ or whatever?”
“Maybe. I don't really discriminate on gender… but I imagine it won't be long before you're missing having a group of men toss you around. Fair trade, right?” Husk tucked his wings closer to himself, knowing his Infidelities had usually been deal breakers.
Angel considered. “Fair. I do like t’have my holes filled.”
“One man’s cock cannot do all that,” Husk said.
“Yeah, but yours has all those…little nubs on it,” Angel found himself breathless again.
Husk cleared his throat a little. “Penile spines…An unfortunate side effect of my cat body. It's been effective at keeping me from fuckin’ anybody.”
“Excuse me?!?! Unfortunate?!” Angel fanned himself with all four arms. “I am goin’ insane at the thought of that thing rubbin’ at my insides. Will you make those cute little sounds you do all the time?” He stumbled a little. “Oh man. Maybe we shouldn't go today, I'm gettin' all weak kneed.”
“I don't make little sounds,” Husk said under his breath with a pouting mrrow. His tail flicked.
“Stop, you're killin' me!” Angel begged. “You're a little guy, and I just can't take it!”
“Could you stop flirting this hard in public?” Husk blushed furiously.
“ME?!” Angel could weep, he was so worked up.
Both of them straightened up, hands going to their holsters when someone burst out of a side door.
“What's all this racket?!” Arackniss yelled, his many eyes searching the scene while he raised two guns. His gazes settled on Angel and he relaxed. “Anthony!” He tucked his guns away. “What're you’s doin’ here, you gigantic cunt?”
Husk bristled, but Angel squealed, running forward and throwing his arms around the other spider.
“I was hopin’ it'd be you, you big fuckin’ knuckle head!” Angel squeezed his brother, having to lean over heavily to do so. The other man hugged Angel firmly, arms overlapping each other on his slim waist.
“Did the cat drag you in? Haha, who's that mook, huh?” Arackniss asked, patting Angel’s back to let him go.
Angel beamed back at Husk. “Oh, Nickie, that's my new husband, Husker.”
Arackniss shoved Angel aside and squared up at Husk, stalking towards him. It wasn't often he was taller than another demon, so it was nice to feel intimidating. “You’s think I'm gonna let my little baby brother frolic around with another goddamn queer ass little bitch with a tight ass and broad shoulders?”
Husk readied his hand on his playing cards.
“‘Course I am!” Arackniss raised his own arms threateningly…and wrapped all six around the man in a firm grip. “Put ‘er there, you’s mangy animal! I'm Nicolas!”
Husk squirmed and mrowled aggressively until he was able to wriggle free. He smoothed his hands over his fur. “Charmed,” he said flatly.
Arackniss laughed and slapped Angel’s back. “You's sure do like pricks!”
“Well I like you, don't I?” Angel slung two arms around his shoulder. “I got a question for ya, bro. You got a minute?”
The shorter spider glanced at the door, then back at Angel. “We're sorta interrogatin–”
The door slammed open again. “Arackniss, what's takin’ you’s? We got fingers to cut.”
Arackniss made an indecisive sound, “mmmnnListen, come on in. We's got some fuckin’ guests, boys!” He grabbed both of their arms, tugging Husk and Angel inside.
Husk crossed his arms, surveying the scene. It was an old warehouse of sorts. There were hooks and chains dangling from the ceiling.
“This'll only take a minute, Anthony,” Arackniss promised, stalking into a back room.
Husk frowned, his eyes dilating in the dimly lit space. Angel’s eyes glowed, which only made Husk feel more on edge in the current situation.
“Lame,” Angel complained. “Guess we better find Ma before Dad shows up.” He started walking away from Arackniss’ position. “I hope her little office is still back this way.”
“Hm.” Husk’s voice was low. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Angel?” He followed him and flattened his ears back to the sounds of muffled screams.
“What? Are you scared, Whiskers?” Angel asked, “didn't you tell me once you know how to interrogate a man?”
“It works a lot better if you butter them up first,” Husk said, glancing back. “Torture just gets them to say whatever you want to hear.”
“I dunno…I like torture. Makes me get wet.” Angel whispered, still feeling tingly from their moment outside.
“Can you stop thinking about sex for one–it makes you wet?” Husk’s feathers fluffed.
“Baby, have you really never watched one of my movies?” Angel asked, surprised. “Probably that's my special demon power. I was just reborn to be a star.”
Husk held his face in his paw and sighed.
“Oh! There it is!” Angel grabbed his hand off his face and pulled him forward. He knocked on a door eagerly. “Ma! You in there?”
“Come in!” A raspy voice called.
Angel opened the door to a plume of incense smoke. Probably. “I'm gonna assume that's incense,” he said out loud as he stepped in.
“I've been expectin’ you’s both,” said a woman settled into a large chair spun of webs. “My Tony, sweet boy, come gives me a big kiss.”
Angel giggled and pranced to her side, letting his mother smooch both of his cheeks. He stood straight and bounced back to Husker, grabbing both of his hands. “Ma, this is my husband, Husker, Husk, this is my Ma, Amy.”
“Amphetamy, please. The Don is lurking,” she warned.
Angel sighed and shut the door behind him. “Figures. I was hopin’ to avoid that big-” he stopped as Amphetamy leveled him a look. “Sorry, Ma. I came to ask Arackniss a question, but he's busy.”
Husk cleared his throat. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Ma’am.
“It’s good to see my boy settling down with a distinguished gentleman,” she said, holding her hands out and gesturing to the chairs in front of her desk.
Husk looked at Angel before they both took a seat. The woman busied herself with lighting a new incense cone and laying out a few saucers. She filled each one with a different substance: wine, whiskey, and cream. She unwrapped a cassette tape and used her spindly fingers to wind the take-up reel. Finally, Amphetamy heaved a boom box onto the table, and placed the tape inside.
Husk found himself staring at the saucer of cream until Angel startled him.
“We're gettin’ a fortune, huh?” Angel asked flatly. “The last one didn't make any damned sense, Ma. It was full of the goddamn Beatles and Rollin’ Stones.”
“And ACDC.” Amphetamy scoffed at him. “Learn some manners, boy. I'm doing a service for you's. If you’d have listened to my last tape, your soul would still never had fallen into a moth’s hands.”
Angel pursed his lips.
“How does this work, Ma’am?”
“I will answer your questions with my favorite medium. Music.” Amphetamy smiled at Husk, decidedly pouring additional cream into a glass, handing it to him as a reward for not being a little shit.
Husk tried not to look too eager.
“Go on, drink, it's not for my work.” Amphetamy urged. “But what is…I want to hear those questions.” She hit the “record” button on the boom box.
Husk sipped his cream, licking his lips to clear it from his fur. His tongue stuck out in a small blep, forgotten there.
Angel leaned on his elbow and watched Husker adoringly. “Well, Ma,” he said, voice wistful, “I broke a contract a couple's nights ago.”
“That isn't a question, child.”
Angel tried not to squirm as he watched Husk take another sip, absently licking the edge of the glass. He was so cute it hurt. “Well I broke my contract on a whim, Ma. And I don't know how I did it.”
Amphetamy looked at him flatly then looked at Husk. “Could one of you’s please articulate this into a question? Anyquestion??”
Husk gave a soft, warm chuckle. “Sorry, ma'am, we both know Angel has trouble with simple instruction.”
“Hey,” Angel pouted.
Husk continued, “How did Angel Dust break his own contract with Valentino?”
“Good,” Amphetamy said as the Boom Box started to whir. “More questions.”
Angel frowned, “you're not gonna answer us.”
“Questions!!” Amphetamy hissed.
“Ffffine. Are you not gonna answer us, Ma? Ow!” Angel jumped as Husk pinched his arm.
“Not those kinds of questions, jackass.” Husk swirled his cup, thinking. “How will our mutual contract affect us?”
“Good. Better. Keep asking as they bubble into your heads,” Amphetamy encouraged.
Angel rubbed his arm, pouting. “Will doing this bite me in the ass?”
“Less vague,” she said, guiding.
“Will promisin’ myself to Husk…I mean…is it a good idea?” Angel asked nervously, turning to watch his mother.
Husk, unbothered, asked, “what do we do about our contract now?”
“Should I try overlordin?”
Amphetamy held up a hand and looked at her boom box.
“Ask…different questions. Take your time.”
Angel groaned and turned to watch Husk again, trying to decide what to ask next.
Husk dipped his tongue into his glass.
Angel’s eyes glistened. “Isn't he the cutest, Ma?”
She sighed. Husk glared at him, but the look softened as his mind worked.
“How will our contract end?” Husk asked somberly.
“Don't ask shit like that!” Angel gasped, horrified, “take it back! Ma, how do I make the contract un-end?”
Husk reached over and held his paw on Angel’s arm. Angel covered it with two of his own hands, squeezing. “How do I even know what to do, Ma? I need advice for once!”
“I'm giving it to you,” Amphetamy promised. “Two more questions.”
“No you ain't!”
“Angel, calm down,” Husk soothed.
“No! All I want is for my fuckin' afterlife to be better than my shitty fuckin’ human life! Is that so much to ask?!”
“One more question.”
Husk set his glass down and stood on his chair to reach. He held Angel’s face in his hands and looked in his eyes. “Calm down…You know I love you, right?”
Amphetamy reached over and turned off the recording. “Such a difficult boy.”
Angel weakly touched Husk's hands on his face, eyes wet. “You love me? You do?”
Husk leaned forward, kissing his forehead. “Yes.” He grunted as Angel pulled him off of his chair, holding him tightly.
Clearing her throat, Amphetamy held out the cassette. “Listen to the songs. Really listen, Angel.”
Angel looked over Husk's shoulder and reached out for the tape. “It's gonna be bad, isn't it?”
“I don't know. The music places itself on there,” Amphetamy said, “now, listen.”
Angel nodded. Husk hopped down, having to stand on his toes to look over the desk. “Thank you, Ma'am.”
“I like this one, Angel, he's the first polite man you've brought home,” Amphetamy said. “Now go on before the Don finds you’s both.”
“Yeah, yeah…I know he's gonna be mad I didn't get permission for this,” Angel rolled his eyes. Still, he smiled warmly at her, “I love you, Ma.”
She blew him a kiss.
Angel and Husk walked through the now quiet warehouse, their feet each padding and clicking on the cement respectfully. When they reached the outside, Angel handed Husk the tape. “Keep it safe for Mommy, would ya?”
Husk huffed, but took it anyway, tucking it into his jacket. He paused. He frantically tapped over his jacket and pants. “My cards.”
“What?” Angel asked, startled.
“My fuckin’ cards are missing!”
Angel, alarmed, gave himself a once over. He wheezed. “My knife.”
“Not your guns?”
“My angelic knife,” Angel’s voice was tight. “Arackniss.”
Husk bristled, ready to turn heel.
“No-!” Angel grabbed his shoulder. “That's the only angelic weapon I had on me.”
“I'm not leavin’ my favorite fuckin' deck!” Husk growled. “And we can't let them figure out what that knife does.”
Angel grit his teeth. “Shit. Shit, you're right.”
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One thing I love about TWST is how interconnected all the stories are! Even events and vignettes. My best example is the Halloween event and Diasomnia's vignettes. They're very good foreshadowing. Silver literally says (in his Halloween vignette pt. 2) "[I]f Lilia and Malleus chose to fight us of their own volition, could I oppose them? Would I be able to turn my blade against them?” (His whole dialogue there was amazing). He also says he was afraid of Malleus disappearing, not time stopping.
Imo, that's exactly how you use events and vignettes. They're supplementary to the characters/story/world and provide questions the main story can answer. Nowhere in the main story did Silver say "I'd hate it if Malleus disappeared rn. But time stopping? Whatever!" That's a facet of his character you get when your hard work getting gems pays off. The gacha system is still ass, though. Looking at you, Pop Music Club Lilia. Smh. I'm still salty about that.
Anyway, my preamble is over. This is a tidbit post LSKJD
Instead of just random fact, though, I want to share my favorite things about each character!
Tidbit (6.25) about Malleus:
You can tell how much he admires the Thorn Fairy.
In his Birthday Boy vignette pt 2. he offers to fill the party with briars—like the Thorn Fairy did. When the MC tells him that's dangerous, he says he thought it'd be an "amusing diversion." (He's so silly) I'm sure there's a few other examples, but I yapped enough already.
Tidbit (6.50) about Silver:
He's so naïve and candid, it's adorable.
He's not cautious of the Octavinelle guys. In his Fairy Gala vignette, Jade had a plot to get his dishes looking new, and Silver needed a translation bell; so they worked together. Silver also genuinely complimented the craft fairy's work and Jade thought he was being deceptive. In the White Rabbit Fest, a delinquent asked if he was scared and he was like "No, I'm okay. Thanks for asking, though."
He should know Octavinelle is bad news, though, because Sebek was hostile to Azul in his Labwear vignette. Tbf, Sebek quickly accepted his miracle detergent, so idk.
Tidbit (6.75) about Sebek:
He's so dramatic!!
He was sobbing every time Malleus sung during rehearsals for the Masquerade event (Sebek's Masquerade vignette pt 1) Like I mentioned before, he makes a big deal out of helping anyone. (A little off topic, but there's a cute moment in his Ceremonial Robes vignette where the MC hides under his arm!!)
Tidbit (7) about Lilia:
Everything <33 he's my wife!!
But if I had to pick one thing, it'd probably be his speech and dynamics with everyone.
My favorite line from him is "Growing boys need their calories. If the beast hungers, I say feed it." (from Sebek's Labwear vignette pt. 1 about Malleus)
You can just tell how much he loves them and how much they love him back. He'll tease Malleus and Sebek and they'll be dramatic about it, but it's all in good fun!
He protects Malleus from creeps (Rook) and Malleus protects him in turn!! (Lilia's P.E uniform vignette). Silver says thinking about cooking for Lilia keeps him awake (Apprentice Chef vignette pt. 2) , and Sebek trusts everything Lilia says (P.E Uniform vignette)
That's why his decision to leave them all is so damn heartbreaking. Like, girl, LOOK AT WHAT'S IN FRONT OF YOU!!!! I'm gonna shake that mf.
Their relationships are weird, but it's obvious what they are!! If you raise a kid, they'll think you're their father. SMH
Alright, I'm done yapping.
#Diasomnia#malleus draconia#lilia vanrouge#sebek zigvolt#silver twst#twisted wonderland#i hate lilia smh#not really#i could never hate him#tidbits!!#im normal about them
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I'm watching kingdom, the group competition shows from a few years ago. I just finished the second round of performances. .....if str@ykids have such amazing vocals why don't they ever use them???? 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I have tried listening to their music and it just isn't for me. (No disrespect they are clearly super talented!!) But this arrangement of I'll be your man is awesome!!! And it sounded like they sung most of it live which is so surprising and impressive! Next comeback needs to be all vocals and I'll be a stay🤣🤣🤣
#i dont actually expect that to happen#they should keep making whatever music they want#but even their rappers are awesome vocalists??? why no vocal songs?😭😭😭
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rereading a book i loved in high school to annotate a copy. remembering why it connected w me so much
#its the miseducation of cameron post btw#i read it literally 3 times in the space of 2mos almost back to back#i brought it on two trips- that was the year we went to austria and the year i went to national music camp#and like. yeah. yeah i guess that was why#smth abt that book just really cuts to the heart of what it was like for me growing up in the church#my church wasnt the wbc or anything ofc but like. they also werent/arent queer affirming and its hard to explain how it hurt me#bc everyone expects a story where someone sits me down and like. threatens to beat me if im gay or whatever#that didnt happen. its just that i figured out by osmosis from this environment that i was wrong and that i should be ashamed#and nobody ever challenged that assertion so it stuck for years afterwards#its like growing up in a house w mold in it youll never really know that its there until youre told but you know smth is hurting you#and by the time you realize what it is its gonna take fucking forever to remove#and thats how it is w cameron! she knows long before shes sent to the camp#i just keep coming back to how everyone who went to nationals w me came back talking abt this amazing spiritual experience they had#and how much it meant to them to be able to go#and all i was thinking was that i didnt make even 1 friend and everyone treated me like i was fucking diseased the entire time#the guys didnt want me around bc i was a girl and the girls didnt want me around bc i wasnt a girl to them#my roommate acted scared of me from day fucking one and i still dont really know why. wouldnt stay in the room w me#i would sit down somewhere in the common area and people physically turned away from me to have their own conversations#i think they knew. i wasnt out at camp ofc but im p sure they knew smth was up w me#levi.txt#idk. i dont have a Trauma to point to but i feel like calling the effects of what the church did to me religious trauma is appropriate#it fucked me up so so bad. i had to work through so much shit and im still not out of it#today im not ashamed of being queer but im still discovering new issues that living like that gave me all the time#ultimately. im ok rn dw just thinking a lot. its a great book im glad to reread it and really analyze it! its fun
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kinda mad I figured out how to study literally 2 weeks before I’ll never have to do it again
#it’s FINE it’s transferable I’m gonna have a lot of independent work to do over the next. up to 6 years. insane to think abt that#but goddamn I’m like? enjoying this now??#and that’s combination of having no other demands on my time + immediate and desperate need to do it#but ALSO. turns out I kinda like this. wild#adding this to the Fuck This Place pile#but yeah apparently what I have to do is 1. be out of the house. this is the first and most important step#2. have music on that’s familiar + mostly me fucking around with whatever pops into my head#3. have some kinda tracker so I can see number go up#but yeah setting regular times to be out the flat and not worrying abt work so much unless I WANT to outside of that has saved my life#saying this now for future reference so that Luke in 2 weeks-6 months time doesn’t completely forget everything#but also. I’d honestly be chill with doing lecture notes for a while longer#like at the rate I’m going currently I’d be done within a few weeks but if I had free time during term time I’d probably be able to keep up#alas. 8 days.#im making progress im gonna have at least half the content done and with how I’m prioritising that SHOULD be enough#it’s gonna be fine#library in t minus 24 minutes and I can return to nodulation <3#luke.txt
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~ ~ ~
#feeling very weird today#both good and bad at the same time#like I’m upset at myself for fucking up again and starting another fight with hi#and I’m worried about what he might say when he talks to me today#or I guess I should say if he talks to me today#but at the same time I’m happy it’s 4th of July and I get to have a little time to enjoy the holiday before work#and I’m having fun listening to old country music I used to love#and I feel like… maybe if he leaves it won’t be so bad#it’s not that I want him to leave but I also don’t want to keep feeling like a burden#if I’m the only reason you’re here that just makes me feel like an anchor you’ve got around your neck holding you down#I don’t really like feeling like that#and it’s not my fault that this site is the only option you’ve given me to talk to you at all#still keeping me a secret without the benefits of that secrecy#and that’s not really fair but what can I do about it right#I kinda really want to message him and try to blow things over or start a conversation or something#but I can’t because I said I’d give him space and let him think#and that’s what’s killing me the most#just the waiting and the not knowing and the worrying#and I’ve got work for the next 7 nights straight so I’m already pretty stressed here#I just need things to be ok in whatever form ok takes#personal
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:) i am going to Combust
#he is still into me because he's not great at hiding it#and he just went on a not great date w a guy in my ballet class (and i know it wasn't great because i was there after)#and he's been talking to other people about how he likes former theater kids (while looking at me) and the guy is the lead in the musical#and a couple days ago he was texting me like ''maybe i should do a fwb thing? maybe i just miss kissing'' and was asking me for advice#and i pointed out theater guy actually likes and that's maybe not fair?#and he was like shit you're right not gonna do that#:)#guess what he fucking sent today :)#he is starting a fwb thing w theater guy#which is FINE i'm jealous but i'm not gonna do anything because i'm not a bitch and i rejected him first#but like >:( i am sad. this is such a stupid thing for me to be upset about because i wasn't gonna date him anyway#but like. theater guy is IN my ballet class and he's already kinda annoying#i don't want him hanging out w us and he might start#whatever we already make jokes about rejecting bi dude in the group (he is fine w it) we'll keep making them
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Simon is enthralled by you, John Price's cat. Oh, how beautiful you look on all fours, rubbing your face on his jeans. How lovely the mews that spill from your lips sound— music to his ears.
He grabs you by the hips to lift you onto his lap, mindful of your tail and brushes his covered nose against your cheeks. "Aren't you just precious?" Simon lifts his mask enough to expose his lips and nips the tip of your human ear. "I wonder if this pretty kitten has a pretty pussy, too," he softly says. Your half-lidded eyes look at John, who's chosen to be just a spectator tonight.
"You heard him, kitten. Show Simon what he's asking for." The bell in your collar clinks as you lift to turn yourself around in his lap, and he grabs your waist with his large hands to assist. "Careful, I don't want you falling off and getting hurt." Simon extends his long, thick legs which gives you a bit more space to work with.
Keeping your knees together, you place your bare, dainty feet on each shoulder, and with a trembling exhale, your knees drop open.
Simon intakes a sharp breath through his teeth at the sight of your glistening cunt spread open— a flower in full bloom. The grip on your waist tightens to what should be considered pain, but to you is just acute pleasure.
"She's a fuckin' sight, sir," he admires without looking up. He drags a blazing trail with his fingers from your waist to your mons, pad of his thumb hovering over your swollen, slippery clit. "I'm curious, though, kitten," You look at him, cheeks flushed, and answer him with a tiny little mewl. "I'm curious if you'll purr for me, too," and draws agonizingly slow circles, that is exactly what you want, yet not enough. The whimpers slithering out of your throat make his cock achingly hard, and if you turned around, you'd see a sizeable tent in John's trousers too.
John's voice is thick with arousal as he says, "She likes it when you let saliva dribble from your mouth onto her pussy, isn't that right, kitten?"
You bob your head, mouth open, a bit of drool at the corner of your mouth. Simon's touch is magical. You've got liquid fire in your veins, every precise circle rubbed onto your nub tightens that coil in your lower stomach, and when he spits onto your pussy, the warm glob of spit that lands directly on your clit almost has you coming from it alone.
Simon notices how your hips start moving on their own, picking up speed, forcing more friction on your clit when he stops touching you, removing all stimulation. The keen you let out is primal, a high-pitched whine. "Oh, I know, I know," he coos at you, "I just gotta ask your owner for permission, s'all."
He tips his head to the side, looking over your shoulder, and nods. John must've agreed to whatever he's thinking because Simon's dark eyes gleam as they meet yours, a feral, toothy smile on his lips.
Simon taps your hips lightly and orders, "Hips up." Your feet lower from his shoulders to flatten on the couch— thighs spread wide from how broad, how wide his body is. Your hands rest on his knees behind you, and you rest your weight on them to lift up. Simon lets out a snarl and completely hooks your knees over his shoulders forcing your arms to give way. Your head lolls on his thighs, upper body almost completely upside down, and his hands cup your arsecheeks—mindful of the tail— and raise. What—
His warm, wet tongue licks through puffy lips, and flicks at your clit. The arousal that had waned comes back, and it comes back harder, faster, more intense. He's eating you like you're his last meal, and now you definitely sound like a cat, albeit a dying one.
Simon gives your bud a suck and your neck cranes back at the sensation, and that's how you see John, upside down, leaning back, one arm on the backrest holding his drink— the other stroking his cock through his trousers. He looks—
A sharp slap to your arse has your spine curling, legs tightening around Simon's half-covered face, stubble prickling into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "Eyes on me, kitten."
Your spine curves and you realize that you can see Simon, his dark eyes locked onto yours, and that he can see you. You wanted to care about the unflattering angle he's got you in, but it all melts away when his mouth opens wide to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit, and his lip is curled on one side, so you can see his unnecessarily pointy canine.
Once Simon realizes he's got your full attention, he eats. Unrelenting as he chases your climax like it was his own. The pulse of your heartbeat is deafening in your ears, your vision darkens as he forcibly drags you to your finish line, and with one final lap at your stiff bud, he tugs on your tail, and you burst.
Mind-numbing pleasure sweeps through your body, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing into you, prickling at your nerve endings, leaving you a shaky, slobbering mess on his thighs.
Simon doesn't even give you a moment, doesn't grant you reprieve because, within seconds, he's manhandling you and sinking you down onto his massive cock, spearing you in half, stretching your soaked channel to its absolute limit. It burns, it stings and yet the only thing that comes out of your mouth is an airy moan.
"Atta girl. Your pussy's suckin' me in like it wants to keep me in it forever," and his head tips back as he groans, "You're squeezing me so tight, m'not gonna last."
John's gruff voice comes from behind you, commanding. "Then don't, Simon. Fill her up."
Simon's answering smile is, honestly, a bit scary. He looks like the predator he becomes on the battlefield, the one who snuffs out life like a fire on a candle wick. Vicious, cruel, ruthless.
"Yes, sir."
He spreads his thighs, feet flat on the floor, and picks you up with his forearms, only to bring you back down on his cock. Impaling you. The tip of his cock is hitting so deep, you vaguely wonder if the flared head is being pinched by the tiny hole of your cervix. He's destroying you, but at no point in time does it ever turn into physical pain. Simon is using you like a pocket pussy, yet is angling your hips to hit your sweet spot. And oh so sweet it is, because it takes you exactly seven (7) thrusts of his hips to make you come around him, frothy, milky essence coating his cock.
"Fuckin' hell, pet. Fuckfuckfuckfu—" and he brings you down harshly, grinding his hips up, as he shoots rope after thick rope of cum into you.
Simon's exposed chin is dripping sweat, as he pants harshly in front of you, trying to catch his breath. Your body begins to slump tiredly when you feel your tail being caressed, beard scratching your neck as John peppers your damp neck with kisses.
"It's my turn now, isn't it." The bell on your collar chimes as John pulls you to kneel on the floor, face pressed in near Simon's softening member. Faintly, a zipper opens, and the swollen, long length of John's cock pushes into you, pushing out Simon's cum, dripping down your abused cunt to make space for him.
"Mewl for me, kitten," and grabs you by the hair, craning your neck to look up at Simon, who's gazing down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. He curls two fingers underneath your collar, restricting your breathing, and says, "Go on. Let us hear you."
what a delightful day to be John Price's cat
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#cod mw2#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley#cod mwii#cod#captain john price#captain price#captain john price x reader#john price x reader#john price#simon ghost riley smut#cod smut#simon ghost smut#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#john price smut
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pride ☆ mv1
genre: smut, established relationship, stubborn!max, jealous!max, humor, fluff
word count: 3k
After his DNF, Max finds himself losing his temper when you keep insisting that it was his fault. Due to both ends, you find yourself in a constant battle on who can admit defeat first.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+... gym sex - that's all teheee
req!...super fun to write, thank u, anon for the idea !!
He never liked to be pointed out as the one who did something wrong on track. Then again, he rarely ever made those types of mistakes. Max got along with everyone on the grid, but he was there to win. And he certainly did not need his girlfriend reminding him that he’s human, just like the rest of the drivers.
“Just admit it already, you fucked up this time. You cut him off.”
A DNF was as bad as it could get, his mood quickly deteriorated as he bangs his helmet against the wall. If you weren’t used to his dark behavior, then you would have definitely worried. Instead, you tap your foot impatiently with a deep sigh, eyes rolling with strong annoyance. You didn’t like to see him like this, but it drove you crazy that he could never own up to his wrongdoings.
The Dutch harshly rips off his balaclava, dirty blond hair sticking against his angry face, normally baby blue eyes switching to a devilish color. “You’re such a…” A deep growl. “He cut me off, and that’s what got us both out of the race. What a fucking dick.”
Your brow raises up, pointing at him with accusement. “My thoughts exactly.” Turning on your heel, you spin around and walk out of his driver's room, leaving him to sulk like a manchild. Stupid, Lando.
As soon as the race ends, you sheepishly make your way to the young Brit. “Is he mad?” he asks. You shrug as if you care about what your boyfriend is feeling at this very moment. Max wasn’t the kind to get mad, he got furious.
“He’ll get over it. Though I do suggest you run the opposite way if you spot him.” He laughs, eyes crinkling with agreement. After apologizing on behalf of the grumpy Dutchman, you hurry off to find him. Propped up against the door frame, you nervously play with the hem of your dress as you inch your way closer. You can practically see the color red blooming out of him as he smiles bitterly.
“And where were you?” His voice expands softly, it makes your stomach churn, but you put on a brave face nonetheless, refusing to give in to his ego. It doesn’t matter. He chuckles, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek, head shaking in disapproval. “Aren’t I the one you should be consoling? I don’t see why you had to go see him.”
Your eyebrows narrow down sharply. “Max, you’re being a fucking baby, you caused the crash! Lando was just unlucky and I went to let him know, is that so wrong?”
The Dutch fumes, jaw clenching. “You can go see him, I don’t give a fuck, but stop saying it was my fault. He closed in on me.” You scoff, arms crossed. “This is pure bullshit.”
“Whatever, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m glad you’re alright,” you sourly say, pushing past him to go and retrieve your things, getting ready to leave back to the hotel. His nose twitches, following after you. Neither of you utter a single word, simply packing and strolling out the door. As soon as the media gets involved and Lando walks by with a shy smile and wave, he instinctively grabs your hand, leading you through the tight crowd with a bright smile, despite his crash.
Setting aside your differences, you’re grateful for his sweet gesture, even if it laces with a bit of possessiveness. The drive is tense, only the sound of the blinker being heard. You try adding some music, but as soon as he turns off the radio, you turn to him, hair slapping your flushed face. “Why did you do that?” Your hand slides back up, turning it on. He repeats his same actions, leaving you to burn lasers to the side of his head.
“Your music is complete shit.” Surprised by his cold tone, your right eye twitches like a crazy person before turning your attention back towards the road. He feels bad. He’s not mad at you, not even at his friend. But he wasn’t the biggest fan of letting his team down, and much less, owning up to it.
Pushing the door open, you march in, making your way to the bathroom, ready to shower off the irritation. Max trails after you without a second thought, then you slam the door right on his face. He blinks. He can hear you turning the water on, stripping down. “You’re taking a shower by yourself this time, you dickhead.”
-
The next few races run smoother as he finishes in first place for most of them. All of them, actually. But his wins aren’t worth it in the end. Not with your rigid congratulations, forced kisses as you wait for him along with a puddle of photographers. It shouldn’t strike him as strange; you were still upset. For a second, he considers putting his pride aside and try to fix things, make amends, but when you mumble next to him, he quickly throws that out the window.
“Baby finally got fed his bottle.”
All his pent up emotions came rushing back as you wear an innocent smile. With a sullen glare, he walks out, leaving you to gloat. Two can play that game.
Here’s the thing with yours and Max's relationship; it was amazing. A fucking dream. You loved each other like crazy, but when you both get into an argument, it can drag out for the longest time. Your friends had pointed it out countless times, accusing you two for being freakishly stubborn. Oftentimes, he’d be the first to give up and apologize, and sometimes it was you. Only this time, it looked like a long haul.
It was a weird dynamic. He still kissed you goodbye, reminded you how much he loved you. You still attended his races, glowed with sincere happiness for every podium of his, but apart from that, you two still held on to your end of the rope. And it’s been so long. One month? Maybe two?
“Four fucking months,” Max grunts, large hands fixing his drinking straw that connects to his suit. The Dutch is clearly frustrated, Checo could tell as he warily eyes his teammate. The Mexican driver poured out an amused chuckle. Max curls a dark brow. “What?”
Checo halts. “Nothing, man. You’re just being so…how do I put this nicely?” He clicks his fingers enthusiastically. “You’re acting like a douchebag. Puras pendejadas, lo que estás haciendo.” The blue eyed boy shakes his head.
“I don’t know what you mean by that.” He walks away.
“It means you’re doing stupid shit for absolutely no reason. Take it from me, I’m married! I know what I’m talking about, and as your elder, I suggest apologizing. It’ll fix everything, trust me.” But Max only ignores him, already climbing into his car. As much as he would love to try and make things right with the woman he adores like a complete idiot, there’s always something that ruins it. Whether it’s you witty reminders, or your cruel ignorance.
Though, he feels like he’s going crazy. He can feel his hands itch as they beg to hug you the way they were used to. Or to kiss your plump lips, slightly red from your constant nibbles. You can feel his eyes on you as you cut up a group of vegetables, getting things ready for dinner. Like a tease, you bend down to pick up the bag of carrots that had just fallen. You giggle. “Whoops.”
Abruptly, he stands up. “I’m going to get in a small workout before we eat.” That’s all. Left there with your jaw on the floor, you slam the knife against the cutting board.
You missed him. You’d be insane not to. You missed cuddling with him after a long day. You missed the way he would cradle your face to kiss you eagerly after every win. Now it’s almost as if you’re a couple of strangers with the way he keeps a careful distance. And if he wasn’t going to fix things, then you would force him to.
He hears you before he actually sees you. Not a single word escapes past your lips as you skip closer. His molars grind together when he notices your tiny skirt, paired with a tank top. Perky tits salute him as he holds back a groan. Smiling sweetly, you start to stretch. “Thought I’d join you. Didn’t want to eat without you.”
His heart squeezes, ghostly nodding. Adjusting himself on the bench, he starts his set of overhead presses. Loopy eyes circle his glistening muscles as he pants tiredly, shaky breaths bouncing off of him. You have to physically stop yourself from drooling an entire ocean.
The blue eyed boy leads an impressive set, a thin layer of sweat coating him like a blanket. One you would gladly roll around in. Pursing your lips, your limbs feel extremely weak all of a sudden and decide to settle with laying down and bringing your legs up, skirt sliding down, exposing your soft skin.
“So tight,” you whine when you reach up, muscles tied up in an uncomfortable spot. Intrigued, your boyfriend takes a peek and instantly curses, large hands gripping against the metal bar. He gulps. “Maxie, can you push my legs back for me?”
His breath hitches. “No. I’m sure you can do that yourself.”
Sitting up straight, you squint your beady eyes at him as he distracts himself by adding more weight to his set. You click your tongue, a menacing grin tugging at your pink lips. “Messed up, baby, you are messed up.”
Max curses himself for falling in love with someone as beautiful as you. It seriously messed him up a concerning amount. Suddenly there was no more cold demeanor when it came to you. That simply just belonged to the rest because you were everything to him.
“First, you’re too much of a pussy to admit your mistakes and now you’re too scared to get near me?” You scoff. “It’s all starting to add up.”
Except at this very moment.
“And what exactly is that? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Kneeling down onto the black mat, you stretch your arms out against it, and lay your back flat. You hum. “Oh.” You arch your back, ass angling upwards where his eyes quickly trace to. You smirk. “Nothing.”
If he weren’t so impressed by your bratty act, he would have definitely walked out on you. But you just looked so pretty, rosy, and you were glistening. He wonders what else there was on top of that. The Dutch moves on to a bench press. Huffing, he grits his teeth as he extends his arm before puffing and bringing them back down.
The 26 year old, despite your attempts, was as focused as he could possibly be. The adrenaline was lingering in his entire system as he kept his eyes trained upward. Chest locking tightly, muscles contracting. And then he hears it. Your tiny moans, soft whimpers.
The loud sound of him dropping the weight makes you jump up a bit before looking up. He finds you in your first position you had started with when you first stepped foot into the home gym. He can feel his cock press harshly against his white shorts. “Why are you…” He trails off when your mouth drops open, brows scrunching together. Your thighs beg to be kissed. Slippery arms tug your legs closer to you as you giggle.
“My legs are too tight.” His chest tightens. “Help me get more flexible?” you press innocently as you signal for him to push your legs. “Please, Maxie.”
Sighing, he nods. As soon as he steps close to you, he can feel your pouring lust, fuck me eyes staring back up at his frame. Grabbing the heels of your feet, he pushes back as you groan. “Oh shit.” You laugh, chest vibrating against the mat. “I really needed the extra push.”
He grimaces. A silence lingers between you two before you wiggle your left foot against his palm. He raises a confused brow. I’m going to tuck it to my chest. Just hold the right one. Doing as instructed, you sigh in relief, lashes fluttering. He holds back a much needed grunt. “You’re telling me you couldn’t do this yourself?”
You nip the air. “We’re not all professional athletes, Max. I needed you.”
You can see how hard your implication is hitting him as his gaze darkens. And just as he’s about to reach out for you, you wiggle your brows. Next leg. Snapping out of trance, he eyes the way your skirt rides down your skin. In a swift movement, he lets go and takes a staggered step back. You grin. What’s wrong?
“You’re crazy.”
Standing up, you place both hands on your waist. “Why?”
Max doesn’t even recall when he pins you against the wall, your hair flying from the impactful blow, and yet, you’re smirking. Kissing you harshly, you groan, leaning against your tippy toes as you struggle to breath. He seems to be lost in your lips as he cradles your face, teeth clashing against yours at the filthy action. “You’re so beautiful,” he pants, blues staring back. “So fucking beautiful.”
Whimpering, you reach back out for him, plump lips attacking his thick neck as he sighs. The purple bruises were definitely something he would hound you on tomorrow, but for now that was the least of his worries. Admiring the colorful spot, you lick it slowly. He shudders.
“I can suck something else, you know?”
You almost don’t recognize his growl, for you haven’t heard it in so long, that it catches you by surprise as he spins you around, bending you over the nearest counter, where his wall of protein stands. He hitches your skirt up as you gasp when his fingers slide inside of you. The way he stretches you out makes you see stars as you struggle to keep upward.
“Wore this just for me, right? You knew it would drive me crazy?” His long fingers curl at the perfect angle as you nod. Yes, yes. I wore it just for you. I knew you’d like it. You squeal when he lifts you up, tits pressing against the cold marble, legs dangling like a doll. His doll. He watches the way you swallow his digits. “I fucking love it, baby…”
Then, he’s down on his knees as he wraps his lips around your clit. Moaning loudly, you press your cheek against the cool tiles, saliva dripping out of your mouth at the sensation. In your fucked up state, you still reach out for him as he grabs your hand. “You taste so sweet,” he hums. You’re close to crying when he pulls away, but calm down when he thrusts into you.
The Dutch throws his head back as soon as your velvety walls wrap around his cock, the way you swallow him whole. Makes him hate himself for holding onto his pride for so long. For keeping you away. His heart races when you prop yourself on your elbows as stare back at him with tired, lustful eyes. He grins, slapping your ass as you yelp. You ass tilts up as he watches you struggle to keep up.
Warm hands come up to keep you close to him as you bite down on your lip. “You’re a fucking brat, but God, I hate it because you were right. I pushed him off. I did, I did, I did…” His dirty hair sticks against his face as you bounce forward with every pound. “But he was making you laugh - smile - and I just couldn’t handle that.”
Your heart stops. This was news to you because there was no way the Max you knew so well would break his winning streak all due to a friendly encounter. He pecks your bare shoulder. “I don’t think you understand how much I love you.”
“Then show me.”
WIth that, he holds onto your hips with more grip as his tip brushes repeatedly against your g-spot. You’re a mess, but he’s loving every second of it. As soon as he wraps a large hand around your breast, you’re gone, spluttering white all around him as he follows. With a croaky groan, he slips out as you fall back to your original spot. He chuckles. He fixes your skirt before helping you sit up to face him. Your eyes crinkle.
“You love me,” you say in a sing-song voice as you poke his dimple. I thought I made that clear. You scrunch your nose, pecking his face all over with sloppy kisses. He playfully winces, but accepts nonetheless. “You love me, love me. Why would you ever worry about me and Lando? You know he’s just a friend.”
His smile drops as it's replaced with a scowl. “I wasn’t worried, per se. I don’t like someone else making you laugh. That’s my job.”
Your brows arch. “What are you suggesting? That I just keep mute for the rest of my days, unless I’m with you?”
Max shrugs. “Sounds like a solid plan.”
You smack his chest as he throws his head back with laughter. “No. Not a solid anything. Max, I love you.”
“I know,” he whispers.
“Okay,” you confirm, fixing your posture, lips pursing. “But please never do that again, that’s just plain out dangerous and crazy. A big no-no, Emilian.” He glares and your lips wobble childishly. “You love wins, and I love celebrating them with you. It just works.”
“You know what doesn’t work?” he retorts as he hugs you. You hum, comfortable against his warmness. “Not talking to me for four months, what were you thinking?” You push him away abruptly. We spoke! “But we didn’t fuck, and that’s the same thing.”
Crossing your arms, you roll your eyes as he stares back in awe. “If you keep this up then I’m going to crank it up to eight,” you threaten.
The Dutch nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck before you cave in. “Let’s not do that. You’d be breaking my heart.”
taglist: @myownwritings @d3kstar @crucifiedbitch
*note: i've only tagged those who asked to be included in general. i've kept that apart from the method acting series taglist!! lmk in which you would like to be, just in case!
#max verstappen smut#max verstappen angst#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x female reader#max verstappen blurb#f1 smut#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula 1#formula one#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#max verstappen f1#max verstappen#mv1#mv1 x reader#mv1 x you#max verstappen drabble
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More Creepypasta Mansion Headcanons
Warnings: dark content,violence,
blood,mental illness and drugs mentions,suggestive content
if your room is close to Jeff or Ben,you're not getting any sleep.Both of them would play loud obnoxious music;Jeff would blast metal while the blonde would play hours of techno music while gaming sounds would be heard plus inappropriate loud sounds from whatever he's watching/playing/enjoying himself to
The calmest and safest times are during breakfast or when the others eat in general,everytime someone is in the kitchen they just do their own thing and leave
EJ doesn't need sleep,so if you happen to wander the hallways at night you might bump into him
Slenderman doesn't care about anything that doesn't directly affect him,he would actually be pissed if a resident would complain about something that he doesn't care about,that's why all the creeps can be unhinged at times
One violent fight has to happen at least once per month we all know the violent motherfuckers who start it and an argument has to happen at least once per day
If you're a shy and an empathetic person then your stay in the mansion can be hell,that's why you should stick with the ones who can make your life a little bearable
Even lone wolves like EJ and Bloody Painter don't stay alone for long periods of time.If you're isolated for a long period of time you might hear the static again..some say it's Slenderman who doesn't want his creeps to be alone because the eldritch might care about them,some say that it's because their loneliness can get into their quality of work and it would piss him off
Besides the blood and the desperation,most creeps keep themselves clean,but you might see some residents like Jeff who can wear the same pair of sweatpants for 7 days in a row
If you need money you can simply go to Ben,he will either order what you need for you or make himself useful and get you some cash,altough he is a little fuck and wants something in return even if it's HIS JOB to provide the residents what they need.Maybe a blowjob under the desk will do
Drugs are easy to obtain,even Nina has a bottle of something hidden inside her room,you just have to know what you want
One of the top unspoken rules between the residents is to never,in under any circumstances,never enter another creep's room without permision,the only keys that are provided are to proxies rooms.
#creepypasta headcanons#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta#y/n#headcanons#creepypasta scenarios#jeff the killer#jeff the killer x reader#marble hornets x reader#ben drowned#ticci toby headcanons#creepypasta masky headcanons#brian thomas x reader#hoodie x reader#slenderman x reader#slenderman#x reader#ben x reader#female reader#female proxy reader
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blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so
Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.
Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.
Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.
Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go.
Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe.
Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.
Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling.
Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo.
It was the proverbial straw.
“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”
Nothing.
“HEY!”
He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead.
Silence rang for a beat.
Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range.
The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him.
“Geez, need attention much?”
Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?”
Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.”
It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.
But, see. That just gave him an idea.
Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all.
“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,”
He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude.
“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly.
“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”
It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up.
“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”
“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified.
“Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.
“Yeah?”
“Can you come here?”
The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.
“You tired?”
“Uh, no. I’m fine--”
“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm.
There was a countdown, three, two, one...
A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs.
“Dude, what the hell?”
“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”
“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?”
Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth.
“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?”
Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.
“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.
God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking.
Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.”
Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move.
“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,”
Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them.
“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”
“Dude, Eddie, noooo!”
“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.”
“You guys, let’s just go already,”
“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,”
The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together.
It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.
What can he say? He’s a weak man.
“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in.
“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.”
A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that.
The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!”
The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly.
#Listen this is cheesy and poorly written but i HAD to#go find that tik tok because it was hilarious but also radiated love and healthy parenting#they called it 'gentle parenting with malicious intent' looooool#steddie#the party#my brain vomit
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