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krysmcscience · 5 months ago

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It’s finally done, guys – five whole pages of Narilamb AU comic AND MORE be upon you! (If you have trouble reading any of the text, view the full-size! These pages are huge!)

Yeesh, this took forever. <:)

There’s probably a ton of inconsistencies and anatomy/perspective wonkeries, but this was mostly just comic practice, so Oh Hekkin Well, Lol <:D

(Yes, I am aware the Gateway’s door isn’t present in the Afterlife, and the actual way in is just a pentagram portal. Yes, I put the door in there anyway because Artistic License, i.e. it felt more impactful for there to be a prison door of sorts to walk through to freedom, rather than just a bland boring portal on the ground. 😠)

anyway, i hate backgrounds so much lmao

Alternate ending and a buttload of bonus art under the cut, followed by goofy AU rambles and headcanon stuff:

I’m calling it the Revival AU. It’s not all that creative a title, and someone else has probably used it already, but I am too lazy to really care, LOL

Alternate ending page, which you will Definitely need to view the full-size for, Whoopsie Daisy:

The alternate ending was actually the first ending I finished things off with, because I had a brief badbrain moment where I forgot the emotional beat I initially wanted the comic to end on, and I tend to write comedy, anyway. I later remembered and drew out the proper ending, but I preserved and finished this one, too, because it still makes me giggle.

They had to go back for the followers off-screen in the AU’s real ending. And by ‘they’ I mean just the Lamb, because they weren’t about to ask three newly freed cats to go back into what used to be their prison. The Lamb DID spend some time watching Narinder and the bois enjoying the outdoors first, though:

In other news, here’s the Lamb and me making fun of my anatomy-drawing ‘skills’:

Meanwhile, if you’re wondering why the Lamb is just a-okay with how things went down vis a vis Their Murder, this bonus comic should answer at least some of your questions:

Ah, yes, also this is how they get engaged outside of the alternate ending. Forgot to mention that bit. XD (I already refuse to believe that Narinder is capable of flirting normally, so why would his initial marriage proposal be any better???)

Oh, and before any of them get a chance to actually head back to the cult grounds, there is one potential problem:

And by ‘problem’ I mean something Narinder intends to ignore for At Minimum a thousand years. Cuz he’s a petty bitch like that. :D

what do you mean i drew the lamb too tall compared to the background? clearly they’re standing on top of baal and aym lmao, why else would you think those two aren’t in this one??? (aym and baal got way too excited about finally being outside, you see, and their silly modes are nothing to sneeze at)

And, speaking of heading back to the cult grounds, I’m sure y’all would love to know how the Lamb’s followers felt about the brand new change in management:

It all went better than expected. <:D Tiny ramble now, feel free to skip down to the next comic.

Before you ask, no, the Lamb does not have any actual powers anymore, other than the immortality Narinder definitely grants them. The Red Crown just thinks it’s funny to suggest otherwise, and Narinder does nothing to discourage this. Also, the Lamb and Narinder aren’t actually married here yet, but, uh. Pretty safe to say that particular ritual directly follows the events of this comic. XD

Given how quickly he mellows out in canon, Narinder probably chills out a lot in this AU once he’s in charge of the cult, too, if only because 1.) He’s finally free, and 2.) He’s equally smitten with and distracted by the Lamb. He’s definitely in charge at least 95% of the time, though, because the Lamb never actually wanted to be a cult leader and, now that their time as a vessel is done, they just want to be a normal(ish) sheep who’s wholly devoted to their hot new divine husband.

Some followers do still have some valid concerns about these two being together, though, which I’m sure at least a few of you might share…

Unfortunately for any such concerns, the Lamb is a bonafide masochist in this AU. :D

They’re also 100% a sub, obviously

Anyone at all: Your relationship is problematic and potentially toxic

The Lamb: fuck yeah it is, it’s so hot~ OuO

Here’s just the last panel, made transparent for whatever nefarious purposes y’all might have for it:

Additional exchange Narinder and the Lamb have at some point, probably after the Lamb does a fatal whoopsie while out on a mission trip or in response to things getting a little too sadistic in the bedroom, ahaha:

Look, there is a very important distinction between life and death, and if you don’t understand that, then you’re probably not worthy of being the God of Death, anyway. (At least, according to Narinder, and ONLY Narinder.)

Last but not least, have these shittens:

~Such creative naming conventions I have utilized, lololol~ :D Anyway, there's a few deets on them in the rambles down below.

The rest is all ramble, so before I get to that, I’ll just say – likes and especially reblogs are very much appreciated!!! :D If you happen to really really REALLY like my stuff, meanwhile, I do have a link in my bio to my ko-fi page, where I’m accepting commissions and donations if you’re especially generous… ÓuÒ

Now, BE FREE IF YOU AIN’T DOWN FOR READING MY GOOFY RAMBLES

First ramble is re: Baal’s question of ‘Did it really work?’, since I didn’t feel like expanding on it in the comic proper, and it’s arguably pretty vague? He doesn’t ask because he doubts Narinder or his capabilities, exactly, but because neither Baal nor Aym have ever actually seen their god at full power before (he’s still technically not at full power here, either). It’s not expressly stated how soon the brothers were brought to Narinder after his imprisonment, but whether it was early on or after a length of time for Shamura to (somewhat) recover from his attack, he must have already been weakened, since I have no doubts that there was a huge battle that accompanied the Bishops working together to trap him. So, between that fight with all four of his siblings, sharing his power with a variety of vessels over time, and being chained immobile for a thousand years, he must have been severely weakened by the time he lent the Red Crown out to the Lamb, which would have only weakened him further.

I like to think this is how the Lamb is able to defeat him if they refuse to be sacrificed, despite how it took all four Bishops working together to subdue and chain Narinder in the first place.

All that aside, the three cats have been trapped in the Afterlife for so long that Baal also wanted verbal reassurance that they are all, indeed, actually able to leave it now – something that I headcanon isn’t possible without a significant amount of power (i.e. the Red Crown’s cooperation with its bearer/vessel).

(On a semi-related note, I don’t headcanon Aym and Baal as twins. I like sweetheart big bro Baal and snarky little goth bro Aym too much to have them be that close in age.)

Ah, teeny thing: If you noticed I switched up the art style for Narinder on the second page, that was intentional. It's sort of a visual indicator that there has been a Big Change for him - that being, how much power he has after sacrificing the Lamb. As for why I changed up his arms in the grass rollin' pic, I don't really subscribe to the notion that his arms are spooky bones because they're horrifically injured (beyond chain-chafing scars, that is), but rather just because he's the Bishop of Death, so he can change how normal-to-spooky they look at will. At some point I might doodle out how I imagine his appearance to range between least to most eldritch... 🤔

Next ramble, regarding Narinder’s feelings towards the Lamb...he was initially too focused on being freed from his imprisonment to form any real attachment to them. They were a tool for his use, first and foremost, but he did notice their intense devotion towards him. It was impossible not to notice, because the Lamb was always very happy to see him, even if it was because they died during a crusade (yet again). He wasn’t originally planning to revive them once he was freed, either, because he saw no real point to it – after all, they were already dead when they first met him, just as any other mortal would be when meeting him in the Afterlife, so death has very little real consequence in his eyes. But, once the chains were off, and it really sank in that he stood to lose the most devoted follower he’s ever had, he decided…why put their soul to rest for good or leave them stuck in the Afterlife when he could just as easily revive them again? And why not reward them for their hard work, anyway? Not only would it cost him nothing by comparison, but the future devotion that could come of it would surely make up for his (bare minimum) effort in reviving them.

He wasn’t expecting to get a full dose of that devotion and a smiling face so soon after killing them, though~ :3c (because the Lamb is a bonafide freak, and not-so-secretly into the fucked up power dynamics going on here, lol)

I should mention here that I am firmly of the belief that any non-god/vessel who crosses through the Gateway and into the Afterlife just straight up dies. So, Aym and Baal? Also straight up dead, from the second Shamura brought them through. Their souls were just never put to rest so that Narinder could have some company – if only according to Shamura. Narinder kept the two around mostly out of bewilderment, because honestly, who are these kittens, and what is Shamura’s game here, anyway??? They never even explained anything, they just tossed these kittens into the Afterlife and LEFT!!! At any rate, Aym and Baal being dead is how I explain why their souls apparently become lost in the void if they’re killed, along with the added complications required to revive the two because of it.

So, with those deets in mind, and given a bit of time, if Narinder hadn’t chosen to revive the Lamb, and also hadn’t chosen to put their soul to rest, they still would have woken up at some point, despite being as straight up dead as Aym and Baal. Who, don’t worry, were also properly revived while Narinder was waiting for the Lamb to wake up. Because I am also firmly of the belief that, first, the dead cannot leave the Afterlife without the use of a ritual/relic (and can't stay in the living world for long regardless), and second, dead followers’ devotion isn’t anywhere near as potent as that of the living, given how much more the living stand to lose.

Final ramble, regarding the Lamb’s feelings towards Narinder, and why they’re so devoted to him…

Well, you don’t spend most of your life on the run with your steadily-dwindling herd, trying to evade the ongoing genocide of your species, without becoming a little fucked up in the head. Maybe a lot fucked up in the head. Life is suffering, so might as well have fun with it, right? Maybe start finding death and pain to be kind of hilarious, even a little bit hot, once everyone you know and love is dead and gone, leaving you all alone? And maybe after that, there’s something comforting in how, despite the cold, cruel uncertainties of life, at least you can always count on the inevitability of death, patiently waiting for you until your very last breath? Who knows. Either way, as soon as the Lamb was killed, and they learned that the literal God of Death was offering them a second chance at life and vengeance via effective immortality, they were 100% ride-or-die-devoted all at once. Turns out death is kinder than life – go figure. (Of course, it helps that Narinder is 100% their type.)

They weren’t put off by Narinder’s thinly-veiled sadism or manipulations, either – they’re not too different in those regards, albeit opting for vastly different methods. It’s a very ‘two sides of the same coin’ sort of deal. In order to stay alive once they were made the last of their kind, the Lamb had no qualms with using others to their advantage, and that did not change once they were revived and expected to run a cult. They didn’t care for the position of authority, though – being a sheep and all, they’re much more of a follower than a leader, and thus greatly appreciated Narinder’s need for control. With how they had to keep on their toes for so long, the Lamb was also pretty good at reading people by the time they died, so they could recognize that a lot of Narinder’s posturing was just that – posturing. Dude’s 95% bluster and only 5% bite. He could obviously be vicious when he wanted or needed to (the Bishops' injuries were clear proof of that), but underneath his outer layer of cruelty was a generous layer of tsundere, and underneath all THAT was a soft squishy middle sibling velcro cat in desperate need of attention and affection.

(Which, for the record, he Did Not feel comfortable getting from Aym and Baal – Narinder still has no idea why the fuck Shamura sent them to him, beyond acting as keepers at best or trying to sabotage his attempts to escape at worst. Which, he thought HE sabotaged in turn, by guiding the kittens into being his devoted disciples instead. He thought he was very clever for it. ‘I outsmarted Shamura!’ he thought, despite that there was never anything there to outsmart. ‘What do you mean, Shamura sent your kittens to me for company?’ he demands of Forneus later. It may or may not lead him to pull Shamura out of Purgatory just so he can shake them and scream about how they should have Fucking Explained that!!!)

But, getting back on track as to why the Lamb was so willing to be sacrificed, I cannot stress this enough – if you pay even a minimal amount of attention to what he’s saying, Narinder is REALLY NOT SUBTLE about his intentions. ‘Death is of little consequence.’ ‘Followers are for you to use to your advantage.’ ‘Sacrifice a follower to absorb more power.’ So, yeah, the Lamb knew exactly what would be expected of them once the other Bishops were dead. They knew Narinder would expect them to die for him one last time. But, after all, death is of little consequence (not to mention hot), so when the time came, they wanted to see him freed, even if it meant oblivion for them in the end.

He’d given them a second life, and the ability to avenge their kin, and they felt indebted to him for that – so, while they were still pretty glum about the possibility that they might not get to see him free of his chains, nothing beyond their devotion and debt to him mattered. They never wanted all the drama and expectations that came with the Red Crown’s power, anyway, so, better for Narinder to have it back so that he could deal with it. What he did with the Lamb afterward would be up to him, and seeing as he was their god, they’d accept his decision gladly.

Were they in love with him by that point? Oh, obsessively so, but only in the devotional sense – romance was nowhere on their mind nor radar. That is, until he unexpectedly revived them again, told them he still needed them, and then offered down his hand to help them up.

The Lamb fell HARD for him in that moment. :3c

And now, a tiny shitten ramble. Lu and Li are twins, because sheep tend to have those a lot, and are conceived not long after the Lamb and Narinder’s marriage ceremony. Lu is the minutes older one, but Li is much more mature. I have put no further thought into these two, other than that they are utter menaces, birthed by the Lamb, cling hard to both their parents but especially Narinder (who spoils them rotten), and they are both genderfluid, using whichever pronouns/names they feel like at any given time. They are also both intersex, same as the Lamb, who was initially infertile up until Something Something Vague Magic, which I have also put no further thought into ¯\_(シ)_/¯

oh, and before anyone tries to suggest i headcanon this AU’s lamb as trending more female due to them giving birth or whatever, no, no, a thousand times no, they might have a vag, but they've also got a dick, and even if it's not as big as they'd like, they still know how to use it

Finally, the very tentative name for the Lamb in this AU is Yazdi, which is really just another name for the Baluchi breed of sheep XD (Not that the Lamb is this specific breed, I just didn’t like any of the other sheep-related names I found, ahaha...)

THAT’S ALL FOR NOW (collapses into an exhausted pile of goopy limbs)

#fanart #comics #cult of the lamb #cotl #narilamb #cotl lamb #cotl narinder #cotl shitten #cotl mystic seller #cotl aym #cotl baal #aym and baal #this is why i have been especially quiet lately XD #even just the bonus stuff took several days to finish because i don't know the meaning of DOODLE anymore apparently #everything must be fully inked and colored with backgrounds I Fukken Guess #at least using medibang's sumi brush keeps me from focusing on making my lines perfect :\#and yeah i copy-pasta'd a lot of my own backgrounds don't at me bro #if you're on desktop and want to full view but don't know how: right click the image - open in new tab - zoom in as needed :)#feel free to ask questions about the AU if you want - but uh - this is basically the extent to which i've thought it through LOL #edit: oh right - aym and baal really out there assuming narinder already put the lamb's soul to rest so the body's just fodder now lmao #last edit i hope: fixed the transparent cult certified freak image 8|#nope - one more edit: there is one (1) loophole for how living mortals can be in the afterlife without dying #that loophole is currently narinder XD #'sorry universe but the god of death says i can be in here so back off with your rules and regulations'

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formulawolff · 25 days ago

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"my hero" - m.v.

pairing: social worker!reader x max verstappen

word count: idek tbh (i’m posting this on my lunch break hehe)

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, max in bf mode, long distance couple, cursing here and there, mentions of mental health, mentions of mental health disorders, mentions of physical health, yada, yada, yada

a/n: i know i said i was working on requests but this idea would not leave my brain all day. i couldn't stop thinking about it so i had to write it. (it's def a little self-indulgent) i hope y'all enjoy!

"ah! there you are. i can see you now!""

a giggle bubbles up in your throat, your lips forming a wide smile, "hi baby, how are you?"

he shrugs, the image distorted for about a millisecond. he comes into frame once again, slightly pixelated. however, you can make out the sleepy grin plastered across his face, and the twinkle in his eye as he looks into the camera.

max verstappen, three time world driver’s champion, is on facetime with you, donned in nothing but a black cotton tee and his boxers. you can tell from the background that he’s in his motorhome, settled in his room.

his hair is a disheveled mess, sticking up haphazardly. he more than likely just got out of the shower, as the fabric of the tee clung to his toned frame. underneath his eyes were two faint circles, the skin slightly puffy.

yet, here he was, calling you at god knew what hour just to hear the sound of your voice.

"tired. very fucking tired."

"i can imagine so," you nod, typing along at your laptop, "what time is it there?"

he hums, leaning over his phone, "it's about eleven thirty?"

"max!" your eyes widen, "you need to get some sleep. it's qualifying tomorrow!"

"and?" he counters, arching a brow, "i wanted to hear how your day went. from your messages, it seemed like it was quite eventful."

"i'm just wrapping up my notes now," you exhale, your shoulders slumping slightly, "it was a long day."

"i can imagine my baby," he coos, settling underneath the covers, "tell me all about it."

"i can assure you being a case worker is not nearly as riveting as a formula one driver," you snort, shaking your head, "you go first."

"nope," he was not budging, his attention still fixated solely on you, "tell me about your day, and then i'll share about mine. it's only fair."

"well," you wrinkle your nose, glancing over the open document on your laptop screen, "my day started with one of my clients experiencing a small crisis. she was without food so she called me, asking if i could take her to the nearest pantry. while i was with her, another client of mine called asking if i could transport him to his appointment.

i probably could have, but he reached out to me only fifteen minutes before his appointment time. i received my new staffing form today. i have a couple of clients who are in need of housing so i had to make some calls to some local agencies."

"and how did that go?" you can't help but feel heat flourishing into your cheeks at the intrigue laced in his tone, "were you able to make some progress?"

"not really," you inhale sharply, "housing is really difficult to find right now. it's sort of like when your tires are giving out, but you need them to last a few more laps. you have to remain hopeful so that you can keep pushing."

“i like that analogy,” he fights a yawn, but continues regardless, “that’s a good one. i’m going to use that.”

“as long as you credit me,” you muse, clicking your mousepad as you finalize your note, “how was practice today?”

“so-so,” he chirps, “i missed you a lot today. thought about you nearly every second of the practice session. you’re flying out next week, right?”

you nod, shutting your laptop, “yes. i’ll be leaving wednesday evening and catching a late flight. hopefully when i land, there will be this insanely handsome dutch man waiting for me.”

“is that right?” max’s dimples appear, causing your heart to skip a beat, “i’m hoping that my good luck charm arrives safe and sound. i can’t wait to see her.”

“counting down the minutes are we?”

“you have no idea,” carefully, he plucks his phone from his makeshift stand, bringing you closer into the bed with him, “will you stay on till i fall asleep?”

at his request, there’s a tug at your heart. fuck, if only you were with him. then he would have been able to lay on you until he dozed off. his head would have been snuggled into uour collabone, your hands tangled in his hair, playing with it as his chest steadily rose and fell.

if only you were there. if only you were an influencer or a model. if only you could take work with you, dropping everything to fly all over the world. if only you weren’t separated by time zones, where you had to carefully coordinate facetime calls.

if only you weren’t long distance, then maybe you wouldn’t feel like this.

if only.

“hey,” max’s voice is merely a whisper, “are you okay?”

your lower lip trembles, tears welling up, threatening to spill over. there’s a choking sound, as you attempt to suppress a sob.

yet, it was too late. they were streaming down your cheeks now, your hands instinctively shielding your face.

“baby,” max murmurs, “what’s going on?”

“this shit sucks,” you shake your head, the words strained, “i hate that i’m not with you right now. i hate that we’re long distance. i hate that i have to stay here and—“

“but your clients need you,” his tone is delicate, “you’re the one person they can count on when everything else is going to shit. they need you like i need you. i can tell you had a long day baby, but i’m here. i’m here for you, no matter what.”

“i-i love you,” you manage to sputter out, wiping your cheeks, “i love you, max.”

“and i love you more than you’ll ever know,” in the frame, a pillow is held against his chest, “i’m even cuddling this pillow right now pretending that it’s you.”

“i can’t believe you fell in love with some plain girl from the states,” you sigh, resting your head against the couch cushion, “out of everyone in the world, you happened to fall in love with me.”

“you’re not just any girl from the states,” for a moment, you’re shocked at the firmness in his tone, “you’re my girl. it takes someone special to do what you do. you’re my hero baby. i aspire to be as strong as you.”

“i love you,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile, “am i really your hero?”

“of course,” it doesn’t even take him a second to respond, “like i said, you’re the strongest person i know. you inspire me.”

“i can’t wait to see you,” you murmur, taking note of the way his eyes were drooping, “i’ll stay on till you sleep, my love. it seems like you need it.”

“hey,” one eye opens, barely a slit, “i know this shit sucks right now, but we’ll make it. okay? one day you’ll get to come home to me and tell me all about your day rather than calling. it’ll be worth it. i promise.”

“i hope so. i love you, maxie. sleep well, my love. i’ll be there before you know it.”

“try to have a good evening,” you could barely make out the statement, as he was beginning to doze off, “just end the call when i’m asleep. i’ll message you in the morning.”

“i’ll be here,” opening your laptop, you prop it against the screen, “goodnight, maxie.”

“night, night, baby.”

as sleep takes a hold of the dutch driver, you remain on the call, opening youtube. cautiously, you click on one of your favorite videos. it’s a montage of all of max’s wins, starting from the 2016 spanish grand prix.

the video begins to play, the volume carefully adjusted so that it doesn’t wake him.

as your gaze shifts to your phone once again, you can’t help but hear his words ringing in your ears.

one day this would all be worth it.

and one day, max verstappen would be able to be with his hero.

every single day for the rest of his life.

#max verstappen #mv1 #mv33 #max verstappen x reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #formula 1 fanfiction #mv33 x reader

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lewisvinga · 6 months ago

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so high school | max verstappen x fem! singer! reader

summary; in which max feels like a sixteen year old in high school whenever he’s around y/n

word count; 976

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3 @fall-bambi

note; requested ! i dont listen to taylor swift so im not familiar w this song, but i hope this is good enough!😫 n so sorry this took a bit longer than usual, a lot of things happened in my life rn + i’ve had major writers block 🙁

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

i just want to find you in a crowd just to hide from you

Max stood at the podium with a proud smile on his face. Another race won another race closer to being the world champion. The sound of his nation’s national anthem filled his ears as his hands found their way through his blonde locks.

His bright eyes scanned the crowd searching for her.

The start of the season was always a grand event. Drivers often brought their girlfriends along with them to enjoy a sunny Bahrain and the beginning of the season. When the first race of the season came around, Max couldn’t help but ask his girlfriend of just a few months and a world-famous singer to accompany him.

He thought it was a good idea. He really did.

However, the second his eyes landed on her wide smile from the top of the podium, he felt his heart skip a beat. She stared at him with so much love in her eyes that he became flustered. His cheeks began burning up and he secretly hoped and prayed that others would think his rosy cheeks were from the bright sun.

He had to hold back a laugh, a giggle even. Max Verstappen, The Max Verstappen, giggling and blushing over a girl that was already his? It was unheard of. He knew if he kept staring his cheeks would be too red to be just from the sun.

As quickly as his eyes found her, he looked away and instead focused on calming down his heart rate.

i’ll drink what you think and i’m high from smoking your jokes all damn night

Max was always the type to drink his coffee black. No cream. No sugar. That changed the moment he started dating Y/n and learned about her addiction to a milky and very sweet iced vanilla latte.

She claimed it helped her and her melodic voice that he adored so much.

It was another late-night session in the studio and the Dutch driver had brought over two iced vanilla lattes, one with just a little less sugar than the other.

He honestly hated the sugary milky beverage. He could barely stand a sip but he refused to tell Y/n that. He only drinks the vanilla iced lattes because he loved to see her face light up whenever he’d give her the rest of his drink because he ‘didn’t want to finish it’.

“Here, have the rest of mine. I don’t want it.” Max said with a chuckle as he noticed her pout after she finished her own.

“Are you sure, Maxie?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Here.”

Y/n laughed and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a pink lipgloss mark. Max couldn’t help but laugh with her as she happily took his drink.

She sat down across from him on the couch in the studio. She began to tell him a story about something that happened to her and Lando days prior. He honestly wasn’t focusing much on the story. His focus was 100% on the smile on her face and the laughs she’d let out every other sentence.

If her laugh was a drug, he’d sure be high every second of the day. Hearing her laugh was an addiction to him. He adored it and if forcing himself to drink a sugary ice vanilla latte to accompany her during studio sessions just to hear her laugh, he’d do it without a problem.

the brink of a wrinkle in time, bittersweet sixteen suddenly.

Y/n let out a yawn as she walked down the halls of her and Max’s shared home. She needed a break from writing songs. Her mind was blank and she couldn’t think. The iced vanilla lattes weren’t helping her creativity flow and neither Jimmy nor Sassy helped.

She was walking towards Max’s gaming room where she knew he’d be on the simulator. She suddenly heard him say her name and she stopped right outside the slightly open door.

“No, yeah, Y/n and I are great. It’s just-“

“Just, what?” She recognized Charles's voice and his laugh.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Tell me! I won’t tell a soul.”

“No, it’s stupid.”

“C’mon, Max.”

Y/n furrowed up her eyebrows as her heart rate began to pick up. She immediately assumed the worst. Did Max cheat on her? Did he no longer want to be in a relationship with her? Did she annoy him?

She bit her nails as she anxiously waited for his response.

Max sighed, running his hands through his blonde locks. “It’s just that I feel like I’m a teenage boy in high school around her. She makes me flustered, like actually flustered. It’s like I’m sixteen again!”

Y/n almost let out a sigh of relief from his words, but kept quiet as she knew that he would hear her. She quietly yet quickly walks away. She finds herself back in the living room with her notebook in hand. She began scribbling across the page, finally getting the creativity she needed to write the last song for her album.

She hums in satisfaction as she finishes off the song. ‘So High School’ she had scribbled at the top of the page. Right as if it were on queue, she hears Max’s voice.

“Any luck with songwriting?” The Dutch driver curiously asks, sitting beside her on the couch.

“In fact, I’ve had plenty of luck.”

“Let me see.” He mumbled, his hand reaching towards the book.

“No!”

“C’mon, schat! Let me see!”

Y/n quickly kissed his cheek in an attempt to distract him. Fortunately for her, it did. His cheeks began to turn a rosy shade of pink. He rolled his eyes, moving his attention from the notebook to Sassy who found her way to the couch.

She had to hold back a laugh as she noticed his ears also turning pink. He really was like a 16-year-old in high school.

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen scenario #max verstappen imagine

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foreverdolly · 7 months ago

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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 4 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

there is a mild noncon scene in this chapter. read at your own risk or skip past it.

word count: 5.2k

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In that strange place between waking and sleep- that's where you currently existed. You made a home there, wading through the waters of confusion as the events of last night came flooding back to you. At first none of it felt real. It was all a dream. . . it had to be.

But there was a foreign warmth beside you and something heavy weighing down on your chest, and while your limbs were numb with sleep you could still register that it wasn’t you. Not your arm.

Not your warmth.

So you opened your eyes and joined the land of the living once more.

The mornings on Caladan were lovely. Light filtered through your curtains regardless of the frequent overcast, the sprawling farmlands vibrant and oh so alive all around you. Your childhood home was all blue-grays and greens. The halls smelled briney- slightly citrus during the spring and summer months. The air was always humid, despite the chill; moisture clinging to your skin and clothes.

Feyd’s room was slate gray and black, slightly bigger than the one you had been sleeping in since your arrival on Giedi Prime. The air was acrid, the scent of iron so heavy in the air that it almost tasted sweet on your tongue. It was on your palate now, nearly causing you to gag when you took in a deep, steadying breath.

You had wanted to go home the second you stepped foot on the industrial planet, if only because you despised change. You wanted your family, your horses, your ocean-side view. Now, looking back at how childish your home-sick reasonings were, you couldn’t help but feel naive.

Not one, but many, had conspired against you. They had hopes that their pale prince would cut his losses and grow bored of you, but took it upon themselves to rid their hallowed halls of your presence. Anger began strumming through your veins, begging for release.

You did not let the feeling take shape. Acting on hate alone would be your undoing, you knew that. Yes, you were not as strong as some of Geidi Primes weakest warriors, but you made up for it with your. . . inherited gifts.

Your hand flew to your neck, hissing when your fingertips made contact with the tender skin. You groaned, your larynx screaming at protest. Did this mean. . .

No.

No, no, no.

You sat upright in bed, Feyd groaning as his arm was flung off of your chest due to your haste. Unable to process the reality that he had been touching you so casually, you instead focused on the fact that the noise you had just emitted sounded choppy. Garbled. Useless.

“My voice,” You started, eyes widening to the size of saucers as the words reached your ears. It was exactly as you feared. “I can’t use it.”

You could barely speak normally, let alone be able to manipulate the Voice. How long would it take your throat to heal? A few days? A week? A month? It had only taken two days for a few of the Baron’s men to plan out their attack. Who knew when they would try to strike again? You were a sitting duck and you refused to die like this.

“You won’t need it.” Feyd’s deep voice sounded beside you, the sheets rustling as his muscled body rolled over on the plush bed.

You tried in vain not to be distracted by his naked chest- by the planes of perfectly toned abs and the swell of his biceps as he stretched them above his head. It was gross to be attracted to him; disgusting, really.

Even in the light of day- if you could even call the murky gray that came in through the blinds light- the shadows seemed to pool around the bloodthirsty man. He wore them like a second skin. Had become them and learned to wield them at will.

His face was once again spotless, no blood to be found on him from last night's activities. He had been utterly soaked just a few hours ago. It had dripped down his sword arm, his nightshirt clinging to his chest and shoulders. . . and he had washed it all away down the drain like the lives he had taken meant nothing.

And it probably didn’t mean a damn thing to a man like him. Someone so used to reaping souls and shattering lives.

Your chest swelled as you turned to face him, scooting as far back on the bed as you possibly could. When you had fallen asleep he was lounging on the couch. He must have slipped into bed once you were asleep, outwardly lying about the fact that he would put distance between the two of you.

“I am not safe here.” You spat out, your broken voice still dripping with venom.

He seemed bored, as if your worries were unfounded. “I will cleave the heads off of anyone that even looks in your direction.” He said simply. Not a threat but a crimson stained promise.

Gone was the starry eyed girl who saw nothing wrong with the galaxy. Your innocence had been stripped from you the second that the man’s hands had found their way around your throat. Your body finally seemed to register pain now that you were fully awake. Your back felt like hell- a purple bruise no doubt marring your skin where it had connected with the heavy dresser. And your cheek? You brushed your fingers over that spot next. It felt hot under your touch.

“I can protect myself.” That was a lie. You could taste the horribly constructed fib on the tip of your tongue and it was bitter. Impossible to stomach.

Feyd sat up on his elbows then, looking over your face. His eyes hardened on your cheek, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth when his eyes started to dip lower. How was it possible that anyone expected you to ever grow used to his presence? His eyes on you felt like a hot brand. You attempted to flinch away from him as his hand reached out for your neck, but he touched you anyway.

“I should have savored that kill. Taken my time.” His voice was still gravely from sleep, but the anger was clear on his face.

Seeing you like this, for whatever reason, enraged him. You didn’t want to know why. . . at least you told yourself that. A man like Feyd couldn’t possibly care for anyone and you doubted that he would ever be capable of such an emotion.

“Do you truly take joy in murdering others?” You couldn’t understand him. There was no common ground between the two of you. He was a complete mystery to you.

They hadn’t even been your deaths, and yet here you were, feeling torn about all of the blood that had been shed. Feyd had killed seven men last night. Were you really worth all of that?

“I’m culling the herd,” He sat up then, his eyes sparking with a sick sense of delight that had your stomach roiling. This sounded like the ramblings of a madman.“They were weak, body and mind. Disobedient soldiers should always be purged. They were a disease, and I treated them as such.” The corner of his lip tugged up into a small smirk, as if he was reliving the moment that his blade cleaved through flesh and bone.

“You went overboard on my behalf.” They would hate you more now. Those guards no doubt had loved ones, all of whom would be gunning for you now.

“Would you rather I left them all alive? Given them a small slap on the wrist?” He was leaning in now, as if being closer to you would give him a better understanding of where you were coming from.

The sheets wrapped around your limbs, acting like restraints as you tried to back away from him and his intimidating presence. You couldn’t help but feel as though he was sizing you up, questioning whether he could swallow you up in one bite. His eyes, lidded with sleep and hazy with something you couldn’t quite discern told you that he would eat very, very slowly. Your fingers twitched at your sides, his eyes narrowing as though he could smell your fear in the air that the both of you now shared due to your close proximity.

“No,” You hated that you were agreeing with him. “They would have found another way to kill me. I just hate that you had to make such a show of it all.” I hate that I couldn’t kill them myself.

Who were you to decide if someone lived or died for their crimes? And yet. . . you were glad that they were dead. You couldn’t find it within yourself to feel sorry for them. They got exactly what they deserve, so why did you feel so awful about it?

Because the “old” you would have begged for their lives to be spared. That sweet, innocent girl would have abhorred the blood and gore, which begged the question: who did that make you now? Has this place truly changed you so intrinsically in a matter of days? You hated the idea that you were adjusting to the environment. It terrified you.

Feyd could see the anger churning behind your wide eyes, no matter how hard you tried to mask it. You were beautiful like this, so accepting of his nature. . . and yet you still fought him. Still fought this. He adored you for it. Loved you for it. There it was again- that word. He let the phrase sink into his bones, settle inside of his chest.

‘I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.

Look at what I can do for you. Let me kill again for you. Let me prove my worth. Let me have you. Let me taste you. Let me devour you until there is nothing left.’

He was so close now that the heat and smell of him was clouding your mind. Much like the smog outside, he was poisoning the air around you. The sheets tightened around your legs as you tried to kick them off of you, hellbent on escaping the bed and dressing for the day. You were starving, sore, and in desperate need of another hot bath. You still felt dirty after last night, like the stains hadn’t been completely washed away.

He was looking at you with those eyes. God, his eyes. . . they were blue, bottomless pits and you were sinking. . . drowning. You found it hard to breathe while he was looking at you like that. He was assessing you with a heated gaze that unwillingly set your insides ablaze. His hands were suddenly on the sides of your upper thighs, the insides of his wrists brushing against them. You could feel skin against skin, your thin nightdress doing nothing to shield you from his touch.

“You wanted them dead, I can tell.” And he smiled at that, a genuine one full of misplaced mirth.

“I don’t want anyone to die.” Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, so heavy that you suddenly found it hard to speak.

“I didn’t take you for a liar, little Atreides.” His head tilted to the side as he licked his lips. He was so close to you that his tongue nearly brushed against your parted lips.

And then he was pulling away, his warmth being ripped away from you far too quickly. Feyd left you on the bed as he sauntered over to his closet, unabashed of his half naked body- almost as though he was proud to show it off to you. His broad shoulders, toned back- it was well earned. It was the body of a warrior- of a killer.

You had to remind yourself that he was a murderer, tearing your eyes from him. It was almost as though you couldn’t get enough oxygen. Your lungs ached as you realized that he had practically siphoned it out of the room with his commanding presence.

He terrified you down to your very core. It was as though he was seeing your soul for what it truly was. . .

And it was as black as his own.

The Na-Baron’s hand against the small of your back felt more like a collar than anything. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was how you appeared to others now, like nothing more than a pet. It was a silent show of ownership, as were his hardened eyes as he turned his head to glare at each and every guard that passed in the hall. Their familiar uniform had your knees buckling and your hands shaking. He must have felt those tremors, for his fingers tangled themselves into the fabric of your shirt, like he could anchor you to him. ‘You’re safe with me,’ the gesture seemed to say.

The floor had been wiped clean of last night's massacre and it was almost as if it had never happened at all. You wished that you could delude yourself into believing that it hadn’t, but your aching bones were a constant reminder. An Atreides did not belong here.

The distance that you craved was not something that Feyd seemed keen on granting. When you had finished bathing earlier, your skin scrubbed raw, you had found him lounging back against the bed, eyes trained on the bathroom door. His presence was stifling, as were the halls of this strange empire. They appeared to be tightening around you, reminding you of your lack of freedom.

A canary in a gilded cage.

“I’ve been filled in on the events of last night,” The Baron said as a way of greeting when the two of you found your way into the dining room. “You had your fun it seemed, nephew.” He didn’t sound angry, which was good you supposed. Then again, he didn’t sound very approving either.

Feyd paused for a split second in the doorway, his lips pursing in confusion. You recalled him saying that the Baron always ate his meals in his own quarters. Your throat bobbed as Feyd’s hands urged you further into the room. Suddenly you were no longer hungry. Like a child, you wished that you could dig your heels in and refuse to make your way any further inside. While his nephew scared and confused you, Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was an absolute waking nightmare. From his pale, unattractive face to his plump, gluttonous build- even his eyes seemed completely void of any light. Your quivering worsened because you knew, even if Feyd wanted to keep you alive for whatever reason, that he would not disobey his beloved uncle. You would never expect that of him. If the Harkonnen wanted you dead. . . then so it shall be.

“It was very enjoyable.” Feyd said simply, sitting down in the chair directly beside you.

The Baron, at his spot at the head of the table, felt miles away. He was assessing the two of you, his gaze bouncing from your form and then to that of his nephew. It wasn’t until Feyd placed his arm over the back of your chair that he finally smiled. It looked more like a sneer than anything else, and all at once you wished to punch those teeth right out of his skull. His ill treatment of your father would never be forgotten, forced marriage or not.

“You two look. . . close.” He concluded, folding his hands in his lap as he sat back. His dark robes hugged all of the wrong places- he was greed in the flesh.

Feyd didn’t say anything, but he did lean in closer. It occurred to you that he was acting almost like a shield between you and his uncle. All at once your shaking stopped, your eyes flickering up to meet his face for the briefest of moments before you finally looked down at your plate. Again, the food did not appeal to your appetite. There were no fresh fruits or vegetables. Everything was brown, beige and white. The meals here were void of any color or variety and you found it fitting.

“We slept together last night, as it should have been from the very beginning.” Feyd said, no room for arguments. His tone was final- absolute, even in the face of the one person that he answered directly to.

Your cheeks were suddenly blazing hot as you realized how easily his statement could be misunderstood. Your lips parted, as though you could defend yourself and set the record straight, but the Baron was already nodding. He didn’t care either way. You were sent here to procreate, afterall. What the two of you did or didn’t do meant nothing to him. As the daughter of Duke Atreides you were nothing more than a pawn- a bargaining piece at best. Your blood boiled as you stabbed your fork into whatever meat had been served. It was all you could do not to brandish the small serrated blade that laid beside your plate and shove it through one of Vladimir’s overly assessing eyes.

“I just thought that she might have wanted her own space before the ceremony,” He started, gesturing towards you. It was as though you weren’t even in the room at all. “But I’ll make sure that her things are brought to your room.”

You did want your own space. Desperately. This whole situation felt wrong, and yet you were helpless. A few more days in your own room was nothing, really. Not when the two of you would be sharing a room for the remainder of your lives.

“It’s our room.” Feyd corrected, using his free hand so that he could take a sip of his drink.

His arm brushed against the back of your neck as he leaned forward ever-so-slightly so that he could place the cup back down on the table. The brush of his skin against yours sent a chill down your spine.

“Very well. Your shared room.” And the Baron seemed pleased.

The cogs started turning in your head as you stared at that expression on his face. Was that gloating that you sensed?

He looked as though he had won.

It would make no sense at all for the Baron to be so concerned with the status of your relationship, and yet there he had been, smiling as if he had bested you. Did he know something that you didn’t? It would be dangerous to voice the thoughts that you were having- unwise. Feyd was sure to take his uncle’s side on everything. At the end of the day you were little more than a warm, wet hole to breed. . . right?

Your skin crawled, your breathing growing more and more shallow as the seconds passed. What would your mother do if she was put in a situation like this? The urge to talk to her was stifling, and yet you were here alone. You had no allies here. You had been left to your own devices.

“You aren’t going to beg me to train with you today?” Feyd asked from the open door of the bathroom.

He’d left it wide open while he changed, as if he was daring you to gawk and stare. You were too busy panicking to even care that he could very well be naked mere feet away from where you sat on the bed. The Baron was guilty of something, that you knew with certainty. You bit down onto your lower lip, staring blankly ahead at the wall as you became more and more consumed by your frightening thoughts.

“What are you thinking about, little one?” His voice was right beside your ear and you jumped back, staring wide eyed at where he was kneeling before you.

He stared up at you expectantly, waiting for you to tell him what currently had you so quiet. His uncle had been unusual at breakfast, more so than Feyd was used to. The Baron was a busy man, and the last thing on his agenda was to eat with his nephew and his bride-to-be. He was cautious, and yet he didn’t want you to know. He would handle your safety from now on, even if that meant going against those that shared the very blood that pumped through his own veins.

The expression on your face had him leaning closer. You were so meek. . . so fearful. The need to protect you was overwhelming. How could someone ever want to hurt you? His eyes flickered over your bruises for the one hundredth time that afternoon, rage settling like lead in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m thinking. . .” You started, eyes becoming glassy. “That I was sent here to die.”

Feyd, for the first time in his life, felt helpless. He did not know how to calm you down. The man didn’t know the first thing about comforting someone, but the thought of leaving you to your own devices and panic had a gasp escaping his throat.

“Do you not believe me when I say that I will protect you? Have I not proved myself?” Actions spoke louder than words, or at least Feyd had always believed that, and yet you didn’t seem to understand what he was trying to say. His actions weren’t enough.

“You’re protecting me because you have to. I understand that well enough, but that doesn’t mean that something won’t happen. You are the enemy Feyd. My enemy.” You spoke with so much conviction and looked at him like you hadn’t just gutted him.

Feyd felt as though you had physically slapped him across the face. The chase was fun, but this. . . this wasn’t you acting hard to get. This was you drawing a very clear line in the sand. You didn’t like him and perhaps never would. And maybe it made Feyd even more despicable than anyone ever thought possible, but part of him did not care. You could fight it all you wanted, it did not negate the fact that you belonged to him. It did not negate the fact that he cared for you. . .

Cared so deeply that it had him questioning whether or not he had ever really known joy or a true sense of belonging before now.

“I am not them.” He rasped out, knowing that you’d understand exactly who he was implying.

He was not like the others. He never had been. He had a penchant for cruelty and a talent for killing, but he would never hurt you for sport. He knew of Harkonnen men that battered their women simply because they could, but the mere idea of putting his hands on you made him want to sink his blade into his own chest and twist. How could he ever explain that to you? Put his emotions into words when you knew so little about him? How could he tell you that he’d been dreaming of you since he was a child? Vivid, prophetic dreams that left him lonely and impatient.

“But you are.” There was a strange glint in his eyes that had your words leaving you in a breathy whisper. You were being vulnerable with him. Showing him your worst fears and letting him know that you currently had no more aces up your sleeves. The Voice was useless to you right now, and no matter how skilled you were in combat, it would mean nothing if you were up against an entire planet of people that wished you dead and silenced. You had kept the fear bottled in for three days now, and you had no one to confide in.

You would regret this, you knew it with a surety that nearly had you choking on a sob. This information could be used against you. He’d make sure that you met your end the second that you birthed him an heir. . .

So why did he look offended by your words?

His plush lips parted, blue eyes widening for a second as he fully comprehended what you had just uttered to him. Having you as his would be sweet, yes, but it paled in comparison to the idea that you would eventually care for him in the same way that he did for you. It lit a fire inside of him, and he didn’t understand how to make you see.

Feyd needed you to open your eyes and understand that he was not your enemy. He was the only person on all of Giedi Prime that was absolutely, without any question or doubt, on your side. He would burn the entire planet to ash if he had to. He’d serve his uncle’s heart on a silver platter and let you eat your fill if it meant that you would come to understand his level of utter devotion.

You blinked and suddenly you were on your back, a small grunt escaping you as his calloused palm pushed against your chest, too fast for you to even register. He was on top of you, straddling your hips. The weight of him on top of you had your teeth clenching, your traitorous body reacting in a way that sickened you. Civilizations had worshiped at the feet of long forgotten Gods that weren’t half as beautiful and cruel as Feyd-Rautha.

“You are my wife-” He started to speak, but you were quick to interrupt him, refusing to back down.

“Not yet.” You seethed.

Feyd couldn’t help but want to fight you on that, to challenge the unnecessary bite in your tone. If you were so hellbent on treating him like an enemy then so be it. He’d push you to a breaking point. He’d make you love and trust him. He’d show your true enemies such cruelty that you’d have no reason to doubt his convictions.

And before he could reign in his emotions, before he could feel any guilt, he was lurching forward. Long fingers tangled themselves into your hair as his lips pressed against yours. Unyielding, he dominated your mouth, teeth sinking into your lower lip. He needed to taste you- your mouth, your blood.

Sweat, tears, slick. He wanted all of it on his tongue.

The years spent waiting and biding his time had been worse than he realized, for the second his lips pressed against yours he found it hard to stop himself. The need that coursed through him now was more powerful than anything else he had ever experienced. You yelped against his mouth in pain, trying your hardest to flinch back at the sharp pain in your lip. The mattress and his unyielding grip on you kept you from moving even an inch. He took advantage of that small sound, his tongue lapping at the roof of your mouth lazily, the salty iron of your own blood invading your senses.

And he was everywhere. His weight was on top of you, his arms on either side of your head, his fingers buried in your hair- and you couldn’t get away. You tried bucking him off, hands grabbing at his training shirt so that you could try and pry him off of you. The muscles in your arms strained as you pulled, thighs quivering as you tried your damndest to flip him over onto the bed. You would not kiss him back.

No matter how badly your instincts were telling you to give in. That voice in the back of your head was loud, but the sound of your own pounding heart in your ears drowned it out. Your body burned as he slid his hips down slightly, changing his angle so that he could grind himself against you. The friction sent a jolt of what felt like lightning shooting up your spine. It took all of your self restraint not to moan into his mouth, which would no doubt motivate him to push this even further.

You felt him. All of him, even through all the layers of clothing that separated the two of you. He was hard, to what must have been a point of physical pain, over a mere kiss. His lips were unexpectedly soft on yours, far softer than the very few men that you had kissed in the past. They moved languidly against yours, and you wanted to be disgusted by the fact that he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

You hated the part of you that craved this. You could deny it all that you wanted, but the dull ache between your traitorous legs told you what your mind could not: a sick part of you wanted this. Maybe it was the very same part of you that had wanted those guards dead.

You should hate him. You wanted to hate him. You needed to hate him.

And then his hands were sliding down the back of your neck, his lips sliding down the base of your throat-

“Stop! Feyd, stop!” You finally found your voice, sucking in a breath of air. You felt dizzy, and yet your body was more alive than it ever had been.

Traitor. You were a traitor to your family.

He sat up then, eyes glazed over, his thick lashes casting shadows on the tops of his cheeks in the dim lighting.

“Do you hate me?” He panted out, voice thick with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place. It was as if he could read your mind.

“Yes.” You lied. This lie was even harder to swallow than your last for whatever reason. Maybe it was the heady look in your eyes or your swollen, well kissed lips. . . but Feyd knew you weren’t telling the truth.

“I’ll fuck you until you want me,” And his harsh, horrible words didn’t quite match the tender way he cupped your cheek. “And then you’ll want me so badly that you’ll love me.”

He got off of you then, forcing himself away from you before he made a mistake. Today was not the day to claim you, not with the previous night so fresh on your mind. He would figure out a way to apologize for his loss of control later. For now he needed a change of scenery, preferably one that didn’t have a bed. . . or a couch. . . or a table. . . or a counter-

“Pig,” You spat in his direction, quickly fumbling to straighten out your now wrinkled clothing.

“Your training clothes are in our closet. Put them on.” He was still breathing heavily, pacing around the room with his hands on his hips. His cock was straining against the confines of his pants, begging him to turn around and finish what he started- make good on the promise he just made to you.

“Are you crazy?” You screamed at him, lurching up from the bed as though you were going to attack him.

Slowly he turned to face you, his features twisting into something that looked a tad bit like forlorn yearning.

“Yes,” And he nodded, not denying the fact. “Yes I am.”

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ೃ࿔ savage bonds taglist:

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chokamo · 2 months ago

Text

had to do it twice

pairing : oscar piastri x fem!reader

summary : the one time you were there for one of his race, he won once again and you couldn’t be even more prouder.

a/n : yeay

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri , user, user, user and others.

yourusername baku 🇦🇿 @/oscarpiastri

user SHES BACK

user -> so excited bout this

user -> welcome y/n

user -> wait what??

user -> y/n went on hiatus we still don’t know why

user -> either way she has return 💞💞

user love this

oscarpiastri 🤍

you liked this comment

user -> hes so fast 🥹

user -> deffo have her notifications on

user -> or he was next to y/n lol

user need u to post more!

user -> AGREEE

user -> she need to post more of oscar as well

user -> vouch. she takes cute pics im obsessed 😫

user my fav couple on the grid.

user girl ily

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, user, user, user and others.

yourusername with nicole 🫶💕💞💞💞🥹🤍

user AWWWWW

user wait i LOVE this 😭

user y/n AND nicole piastri being there???? 😮‍💨

user -> ikrrrrr

user -> two of my fav people

user -> and oscar too 🤣

oscarpiastri where was my invite?

you liked this comment

user -> LMAOOO

user -> did they leave him? 🤣🤣🤣

user -> its a girls day out 💞

user love her dresses

user -> so stunning im jealous! need it in my closet

user i never skip a y/n post

user a NEED to see more of y/n and nicole

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63 and others.

oscarpiastri 📸 @/georgerussell63

user u deserved it

user oscar jack two time grand prix winner piastri

user -> can’t believe it

user first one was so nice (not) had to do it twice

user -> this is HIS “first” win

user -> YES

georgerussell63 thanks for the photo cred, means a lot 🙏

oscar liked this comment

user -> THANK U GEORGE WE SAY IN UNISON

user YES YES YES

user so proud of u

user peep that george pose 👀

user -> it’s hilarious 🤣🤣

user -> two of the funniest men on the grid

user CONGRATULATIONS

user tom and oscar 🥹

user -> this time he was on the podium with oscar 😭

user -> both of them are awesome!!

user manifesting the third win

user -> he will get it trust 🤞

a/n : the first time was so nice he had to do it twice

check out my other post! masterlist

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, the events and characters depicted are not based on real life, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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gayferrari · 2 months ago

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can you share about the interview with jules bianchi's dad and what he says?

It was an interview with La Gazzetta dello Sport, the article is paywalled. I started typing up a tldr but I couldn't do it justice with a summary so here's a full translation. It goes into some details about Jules's crash and the aftermath, so broad cws for that, but there's a lot more. He talks about their foundation, about Jules as a kid, and a bit about the Leclercs. The second half is very sweet

Note: I translated literally. Italian as a language can be more flowery than English, so if some sections feel a bit melodramatic in English, that's why; I'd rather sound a bit off than take creative liberties with the content

Q: Where were you on the day of your son's accident?

“I was home, watching the race on TV. The day before Jules had told me that the race would probably not go ahead because of bad weather conditions, but when I woke up on Sunday I saw that they had decided to race anyway. I saw the crash live but from the broadcast, it wasn't clear what had happened. But I couldn't see Jules, I didn't understand where he was. When I saw that one of the marshalls was holding a piece of the car that had crashed, and it was a piece of my son's car, I understood that something tragic had happened.”

Q: Did you leave for Japan right away?

“I tried to phone everyone, but nobody would pick up. After half an hour Nicolas Todt, Jules's manager, called me and asked me to come. He said: ‘You have to come here, he might not make it’, so Jules's mother and I left immediately for Suzuka”.

Q: Did you understand immediately how serious it was?

“At first we hoped for a miracle. When we saw him, he was handsome, he hardly had any marks, he looked like he was asleep. He was always a strong boy, somebody who never quit, so at first we thought he could recover.”

Q: Then the months passed...

“He was moved to Nice and every day we told him to fight, to stay with us, to hold on and recover. At some point, though, we understood that even if he woke up, it wouldn't be easy: the doctors told us that he would probably remain paralysed, blind, and many other things. One day, even we stopped asking him to fight and started to reassure him [instead], we said: 'Alright Jules, you can go, don't worry because we will see you again' and eventually he left us.”

Q: Has Jules's accident truly changed the safety standards in F1, do you think?

“Yes, I am sure of that. One of the things that gave [the most] strength to our family after such a tragedy was knowing that Jules didn't die for nothing. Nowadays in F1 the safety car is called much more often, after Jules's passing the virtual safety car was introduced, and often there are red flags in situations where it would never have been called before. Moreover, the halo was added to the cars, a protection that has already saved many lives, I am sure. This gives us some peace.”

Q: Ten years after the crash, where do you find this strength?

“In the knowledge that no one wanted Jules’s death. It is true that mistakes were made, but that is life, and nothing would give me back my son regardless. When we go to races or when we organise events for our foundation, we feel the fondness that people have for us and Jules, and it’s what makes us go on. The past cannot be changed.”

Q: What does the Jules Bianchi Foundation do?

“We raise funds for the hospital in Nice where Jules was hospitalised for many months [the CHU — Centre Hospitalier Universitaire de Nice]. With the money we raise, we buy treatment equipment and instruments, we try to do something useful. When his commitments allow him to come, Charles (Leclerc) never misses an event, he does it to be with us and help us raise funds”.

Q: You and Leclerc have a very strong relationship. Where does it come from?

“Charles’s dad Hervé was my best friend. We were always together and I was the one to put Charles on a kart for the first time: he was very small and pretended to be sick to skip school and come with his father to us, to the kart track in Brignoles. Jules was older but Charles was quite close to him, he always asked Jules for advice. Then I lost my son and he lost his dad but this didn't separate us, on the contrary, it brought us even closer. And every now and then when I look at Charles, he reminds me of my son”.

Q: Many people say [Jules and Charles] look alike. Were they similar in character as well?

“They both had the same obsession with racing. It was more than a passion, they just wanted to race and win. A true vocation. Charles sometimes would want to go to sleep in his racing suit, we told him to take it off and go brush his teeth, but he wanted to stay in his suit at all costs. Jules was the same. I remember I once told Jules he should focus more on school and less on racing and he called me crazy: ‘No, Dad, I just want to race’. Then they had the same competitive mean streak in their eyes when they put their helmets on, an incredible [resemblance].”

Q: Leclerc also gave you a very special helmet this year.

“We actually did a swap. When I saw the helmet Charles had made in honour of Jules for the Suzuka Grand Prix this year, I asked him to give it to me and I wanted to give him a Formula 1 helmet that belonged to my son. We don’t usually give Jules’s helmets to anyone but Charles had to have one and when we gave it to him he was overjoyed. He does so much for us, it was right that he should have it”.

Q: Everyone knows of Bianchi the driver, but what kind of boy was your son off the track?

“A good boy, that is what made me the most proud of him. He was always a very strong driver but off the track he was sweet, sensitive and smiled with everyone. Everyone who knew him couldn’t help but love him”.

Q: When did Jules start karting?

“At three years old, very early. I managed a kart track so he had the chance to start when he was very little, he liked it a lot.”

Q: And when did you realize that he had something special?

“To me, he was always very good, but as a father, it’s normal to think that. I thought he was stronger than the other kids but I thought it might be just experience and extra training because he had started so early. When they first started calling us about contracts I realised that maybe he really had something special”.

Q: Then Ferrari came into your life.

“We had been followed by Nicolas Todt as Jules’s manager for some time, and at the end of 2009 came the big opportunity to drive a Ferrari F60 on the track in Jerez, for a test open to young drivers. Jules went very fast straight away and everyone was impressed by his talent and his ability to adapt to the car. I remember that on the return trip I was with Andrea Stella, who had been Jules’s engineer for the test, and he said to me: 'You can tell me, Jules had already tried a Formula 1 car before today, right?'. But he had never done it, he was simply very good.”

Q: How exciting was it for you to see him dressed in red?

“My son was the first driver in the Ferrari Driver Academy and it was a dream come true for everyone, especially for him. He was really proud to wear the Ferrari colours.”

Q: Were you the ones who facilitated a connection between Leclerc and Nicolas Todt?

“Charles’s father had told me that his son’s career was becoming too expensive and so I called Nicolas, telling him that in all those years I had never recommended him any kid to take on [as a manager] even though I saw so many of them pass through our karting track, but he absolutely had to give this kid a chance because he had something extra. I remember that we organized a meeting and Charles and his father showed up dressed very elegantly, it looked like they were going to a wedding. Then they reached an agreement and I was happy because Hervé and I, we always said we had a dream for our children…”

Q: What was this dream?

“To see them race together in Formula 1, maybe even in Ferrari. One a little older, the other younger, but together.”

#f1 media #cw crash #jules bianchi #jb17 #elle asks #charles leclerc

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romeosharpae · 1 year ago

Text

“FOUR MONTHS”

theodore nott x reader

(Yes after one year I'm back with toxic Theodore Nott). You don't have to read part one..

Warnings; Possessive behavior, manipulation, toxic relationships, mentions of obsession, mature sex scenes, unprotected sex, rough sex, swearing, smoking, degradation (Not a lot), theodore nott × female feader, toxic! theodore nott

parts: 1,

There was something in the air this morning, a soothing feeling that made you a little more peppy. So as you skipped to the great hall, books clutched tightly to your chest, a small smile couldn’t help but to be on your lips.

It was the winter — your favorite season, so perhaps that was the reason for your sudden happiness this morning. You’d even wore a little grin through transfiguration, your least favorite class at Hogwarts.

But you were a happy girl generally, nice to everyone who crossed your path. You helped little first years avoid experiencing the wrath of Draco Malfoy. You also helped professors (For sure not Mcgonagal) help clean up after compliance lessons.

That’s just who you are.

“You look pretty today,” Is what Hermione Granger, your best friend, greets you with as you took a seat aside her. No you weren’t a Gryffindor — but you often found yourself sitting at the orange and red more than your own.

“Yeah, I like what you’ve done to your hair.” Harry Potter lowly added in with a sly smile, and you simply reflected it. Ron Weasley, who was aside Hermione let out a little snort in response to his best friend’s attempt to flirt.

Harry Potter – the boy who lived, the boy who everyone without any sort of spite or jealousy in their body adores. Sometimes you even found yourself admiring him — considering him as a form of replacement from your last fling.

“Thank you both,” You giggled,

“Well, I’m happy that your happy, Y/L/N” Hermione declared with a smile, “You see how much happier you are now? Compared to when you allowed that psycho to contr--"

And just like that, there was a damper in your happy mood.

Hermione always made extremely bold comments about your previous unhealthy relationship with Theodore Nott; Which is probably why he hated the fact you two were friends, not because she was a muggle. Truthfully, she’s the one that hyped you up to end things with him — but as you more think of it, she forced you too.

Because despite everything the tall raging brunette put you through, you still found your self right underneath him with a dizzy smile. But that hasn’t happened in four months, not since the day he dragged you out of the party. Shivers roll down your spin as you remember the events that happened that day,

You’ve got fourth months with his touch, without his complications.

And despite missing Theodore some nights, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a breath of fresh air. Like the air didn’t feel lighter without him breathing down your neck about showing any other male besides him attention – without him declaring that despite his lack of commit now, you’ll be baring his children later.

You recall how hearing those words made you feel months ago — Well, it did make you finish, but that’s completely besides the point — it finally made you realize that Theodore Not didn’t actually love you.

And neither did he want anyone else too.

Not because he loved you, but because had a unhinged obsession for you. The more you thought of it, the more you realized how clear Theo’s behavior displayed fixation.

How did you not realize it back in first year when he got seriously angry with Blaise Zabini for trying to be your friend?

It makes your stomach twist to think that you and Theodore's friendship was build off of an obsession – one that clearly grew worse as the years progressed.

"You alright over there, Y/L/N?" Ron questioned reluctantly,

You pulled yourself out of your thoughts, turning to him with a small awkward smile across your lips, "Yes I'm fine, just got a little distracted, that's all."

"You always seem to suddenly get distracted when I bring up Nott." Hermione mumble, rolling her eyes. Because you're always telling me to leave him.

Is what you wanted to say, but instead you settle for a simple shrug.

You were sitting criss-cross on an knitted blanket in front of the black lake, skimming over the newest daily prophet in your hands. The full moon reflected softly against the lake water, making you awe.

Everytime a full moon lit the sky your found yourself out here, enjoying the peace. And no one knew about it — you weren't a prefect and your house leader would kill you if they found out you were out here past hours.

Well, you thought no one knew about your secret adventures to the black lake.

It was not until the loud familiar scent of smoke filled your nostrils that you understood that someone was here also. And with the heavy cologne that mixed with it, you didn't have to look back to know who it was.

"Leave. Me. Alone" You growled sternly, ignoring the thudding in your heart.

Of course you'd still hang with Blaise and Pasny every now and then. But when Theo walked in you immediately flee, knowing that being around him would result with him being inside of you in moments.

And your sure he knew that, which is exactly why the brunette is here. "So you don't think I've done that enough for the past four fucking months, Y/N?"

Venom dripped from Theodore's voice, and had you not been so used to Theodore being upset with the stuff you do — The coldness of his tone would have made you scared enough to jump away from him.

Your head snapped back in his direction, generally you were a nice happy girl. But during the times you weren't so sweet, it was Theodore Nott who got that wrath.

Who brought out that side of you.

"No, No." Theo's jaw clenched at your harsh words, lips parting slightly to allow smoke to slip past them. "Because I want you to leave me alone for the rest of my life."

"Did Granger help you come up with that?" Theodore snickered. There wasn't a actual thought in your brain when you rolled your daily prophet and launched it in his direction. He kissed it teeth when the parchment landed softly on his cheek.

The brunette takes another hit short of his cigarette, not giving your outburst a reaction. You stand up to your feet, preparing to collect your stuff and go back on school grounds.

He threw the cigarette on the ground, approaching you. You take a step back, not wanting to feel his touch — the touch that you have been craving for four months.

“Why does everyone get the sweet little Y/N except for me?" He cooed, eyebrows raising.

"What did I do to deserve this nasty side of you Y/L/N, huh?" Everything. "Did I not fuck you good enough last time?"

"You know it is not about that!" You defensively shouted out. Tears began pricking at the corner of your eyes, processing that the only thing you are to him is a fuck. "--You know that it's never been about that!"

You had like Theodore since third year, immediately awed with the matured boy that he became over the summer. And Theo knew your feelings for him — in fact, you told Theo about your feelings right before you had sex for the first time — he just didn't care.

He stared down at you, beautiful eyes glistening underneath the moon light. For a moment you swear you see pity flash in his eyes.. or maybe regret?

It makes you frown — You didn't want Theodore to pity you. It made you feel weak, always finding yourself with him when your in your weakness moments. Because despite his blunt toxic behavior, before your separation, Theodore always is there when you fail a test you study hard for or had complications with your family – He's the shoulder that you lean on, and the root of your problems.

“I miss you"

Something about those words fueled your feelings more, anger bubbling higher. "No you don't Theodore, you miss having me wrapped around your finger."

That regret.. or pity fades away quickly, replaced with anger in seconds.

“Do you even know how many girls I have wrapped around my finger, Y/N?" His mean tone makes you let a small sob. "How many girls wish upon stars that I had the feelings for them that I do you?!" Theodore takes this moment to grab your chin, yanking you closer to him before you got a chance to stop him. He hovers over you, fingers digging into the flesh of your skin. Blue eyes looking down at you like your prey he's prepared to fight for.

“You don't really care about me!"

"Shut up." He growled.

His mouth attacks yours in a feral manner, making you gasp loudly. The faint taste of his chapstick spreads is in your mouth,

And being that naive girl you are, you welcomed his lips eagerly. The hairs of your skin stood up fully, mind becoming foggy while Theodore desperately slides his tongue into your mouth. It makes you sob out louder, tears slipping from your eyes.

Hermione would be so mad if she knew how easily you allowed him in — The lack of fight that you put up with Theo. But you tried, you really did for four entire months..

You really tried your best too stay away from the boy that you loved so deeply.

“I--T--" Is what you choked out moments before Theodore hand slides to the back of your throat, making the kiss much deeper and tongue sloppier. Your noses were smushed against each other — there was nothing you could make out but his scent.

You didn't exactly get to register when it happened or how it happened. But someway, probably with magic, you ended underneath Theodore on your blanket.

Without wasting another second Theodore hooks his finger into the waist band of your shorts and underwear. "Why is things always so complicated with you?"

His words were harsh and the glare on his beautifully structured pale face makes you cry out even harder. The pad of his thumb catches one of your tears when it falls,

“Y/N Why can't you understand that this is perfect?" He wondered bluntly. His eyes look down at your exposed area, "That this is where you should be, with me."

“No--No I shouldn't--" You shouted, Theo grabbed your legs and spread them as far as they could go. "-- Your no good for me"

That makes the brunette scoff defensively – surely thinking that Hermione fed you that. But you knew it was true – If you stuck beside Theodore, you'd be mental by thirty.

A loud gasp fell from your lips when Theo pushed himself into you without any warning. Theirs something in your body that became at ease with the familiar stretch,

As if it been begging for it.

Not giving you a chance to prepare yourself, Theodore bottomed out in you. He groaned loudly as you flutter against him, practically welcoming him in you.

Theo begins snapping his hips forward at a pace that makes your eyes squeeze shut. You wish that you could hate him,

"Yeah, but that doesn't matter.." He finally responded to your comment. The loose curls of his hair brushed against your forehead as Theo leaned down, lips grazing softly against yours. A high pitched whimper left your lips at every thrust he gave you, an hot pain spreading inside in your lower half. Yet you couldn't stop your hips from jumping up, begging for more. “I'm good right now, aren't I?" He mocked,

His tongue invaded your mouth, like he's attempting to swallow your face whole. You kissed back instantly, tongue lapping over his as you both moaned.

Some moments you wished to know what Theodore was thinking when the two of you were together — and other times you didn't, not actually wanting to be right about his lack of love towards you.

His mouth left yours, spit following suit. Instead he began sucking on the skin of your new and chest, leaving bruises. "Mine." Theo growled, squeezing your breast.

You just shook your head frantically at his possessive words, not being able to form a literal disagreement. You weren't Theodore’s.. and unfortunately he wasn't yours.

He squeezed you harder, thrust forming a harsher pace as well, knocking the wind out your chest and making you gasp.

Tears slipped from your eyes from the pleasure, and your fingers began scratching against his arms. If your mind hadn't been so fogged out, you'd be embarrassed from how fast your release caught up.

“Say you won't leave again..." Theo spoke words were stone cold and you tried ignoring them — knowing that you planned on going back into hiding from him.

His cold hand snakes up around your neck, giving it a tight squeeze that makes you squeal. Your sure he notices that your avoiding his request and perhaps that's why his hips began to move at a slower pace – But you really had not expected him to completely stop,

The was absolutely no way he was going to leave you on edge like that. As your eyes flew open you sobbed out, Theodore wore a plain expression. His light eyes were already looking directly into yours,

You attempted to take matters into your own hands by beginning to slip up his length. But Theodore, who clearly wasn't having none of it, pushed you away by your stomach, pulling out of you completely now.

"Say it, Y/N!" He slightly shook you, "Or I swear I'll leave you like this-- Say it--"

"I--I'm not gonna leave!" The words left unexpectedly from your lips. And you really wish you could say you only said it to get your release but that wouldn’t be true. “..Ever again"

Theodore smiled widely at your words, pressing his face against your neck. And you both let out a loud sigh of comfort when he slid back inside of you,

You don't even know how you lasted four months without him.

Part three>>>

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #smut #harry potter #theodore nott smut #theo nott #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fanfiction #hogwarts #lorenzo zurzolo #cherries #hp fic #hp fanfcition #hp fandom #slytherin

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mapoeggplant · 29 days ago

Text

skip to loafer chapter 65 analysis // spoilers

the girl who's chasing the sun and the boy who's finding a way to walk by her side: how much kindness is needed for one to forgive themselves and finally listen to their heart?

for this month's review, i wanted to do something a little different: i'm going to divide it into two parts. the first part will be about the chapter, of course, and address some points that i think are worth discussing. the second part, i'd like to focus much more on the message of kindness that skip to loafer brings to its readers. so, here we go.

finally, the long-awaited date is here. i confess that i always felt a little uncomfortable when people demanded so much for this date to happen faster, to sensei “get over with it”. i know, i was also looking forward to it, but the whole build-up that led us to this moment made it even more impactful and even stronger. to build a story, you need not only a beginning and an end, but a middle that supports both events. the story of shima and mitsumi had its beginning and now we're facing the middle. no, the breakup didn't bring the end, it was just a complement. an event as big as this one needs to be sustained with enough strength to have the necessary impact. so yes, the “delay” that many complained was extremely well used and made their night together even more special.

now, about the actual date. it’s beautiful to see how they managed to find a space in all this confusion to make their friendship prevail and the discomfort that they both felt before dissipate. of course, their relationship didn’t go back to what it was before, but i don’t think that would ever be possible: relationships change, no matter if good or bad things happen. the way we relate to people grows at the same speed as we grow. and, to keep it alive, it takes a lot of humility, kindness and, of course, love.

since the chapter is slightly more focused on shima, his insecurity and fear are much clearer and more palpable. shima is a character who still carries a lot of regret for everything he did, even for things that weren’t his fault, like his past and the mistakes he made along the way, guided by people with ill intentions. the breakup with mitsumi left a huge scar on him, since he still firmly believes that he is the one most to blame for their friendship almost falling apart. mitsumi is one of the few people who genuinely wants to be with shima and he knows it — but that doesn't change the fact that he is still very afraid that she will never really get to know his "real self" and to like him for who he is, specially because shima himself doesn’t really know what all of this mean. shima feels disappointed that mitsumi has "fallen" for his false kindness because he feels that he is not only deceiving other people, but also one of the most important people in his life. lying to mitsumi not only brings a pain to his heart, but also an enormous insecurity that he will never be able to convey his feelings for her, because he will never be able to overcome this wall that he himself created. when he himself admits that his feelings for her are much deeper, he finally get in touch with the desire to be completely exposed to her, to be accepted by her and that he could finally stop using the facade he hates so much against her.

what he doesn't know yet is that mitsumi can see beyond his mask — and much more than he even imagines: mitsumi sees the real kindness within shima. as much as he insists on saying that this is just a way of protecting himself, mitsumi can indeed find in shima's actions a kindness and affection that are far from being fabricated. it saved her so many times before so, if what she felt was real and valid, why wouldn't his intentions be truthful as well? mitsumi sees shima for who he is, and respects all the past that he is still afraid to show, that’s why she never pressured him to open up and respected every time he changed the subject. there was no need for her to dive deep into something that didn’t involved her, so all she could do was show that she would be there for him when he needed and when he find the right time to tell her all about the little shima she never met. mitsumi sees the kindness he holds in his heart and all the good intentions he had when he helped her before, something he lies to himself and say it was “only a facade”. he still can’t see how much he wanted to protect her and be by her side all guided by his own heart and good faith, not the lie he made up. the real shima was the one who wanted to do all that, not the “fake” he created. when mitsumi chooses to end their relationship, she’s truly thinking about his feelings and a way to save their friendship before both of them came out completely hurt by it (but i want to point out something very, very important: they are both teenagers. of course they will act impulsively and end up hurting each other without realizing it. shima doesn't know which of his actions hurt mitsumi, just as she doesn't know which of her words might end up hurting him. they are at the beginning of a long life and a long journey, so why not give them the kindness they so deserve?).

shima finally manages to take a step forward, getting closer and closer to walking side by side with mitsumi. as he becomes more in touch with his own feelings, shima sees a huge need to change and start being more sincere. in order for him to become a better person, in his own eyes, he now needs to start putting the mask aside and embrace who he truly is. no longer listening to others or fulfilling desires that are not his: now is the time for him to look inside himself and, above all, listen to his own heart. from now on, the path he will follow is his and his alone.

now, for the second part: i really want to talk a little about how skip to loafer has an extremely delicate writing style that focuses so much on kindness, whether it is the kind we export to the world or the kind we internalize.

those who usually follow my analysis must be tired of hearing how much i talk about the message of “i love you for who you are” that skip to loafer values and explores so much. but it’s no use: the more i talk about it, the more i admire the dedication that the sensei puts into writing completely real and human characters. it is always a great joy when people come to me and say how much they saw themselves in one character or two, and how that made them feel embraced. it warms my heart that people can see, thought these characters, the kindness they deserve. It’s very clear to me how sensei is always so worried with showing the reality of their journey of loving themselves in a way to bring the reader closer and learn from it.

of course, shima and mitsumi's friendship and relationship could end with the breakup. or, from another angle, it is clear that they could have started a relationship much earlier and maintained it despite all the challenges they still have to face with themselves. but... is that valid? is that fair to them? is that kind to both the characters and the readers?

by opting for a gentler writing style and a story more focused their lives rather than taking a romantic road trip (after all, it is a slice of life), skip to loafer delves into a great lesson about compassion and acceptance that no one is perfect. we will all make mistakes during the course of our lives, but it is up to us to get up and move on, building other stories and sharing beauty with whoever is by our side. we may not see how kind we are to others, but there is certainly someone by our side who admires us and is grateful for everything we have done for them.

and i'm grateful for you for reading my analysis 💛 thank you. don't forget to support sensei and send her lots of kindness!!!! skip to loafer will be on break next month, so see you in december :)

#skip to loafer #skip and loafer #skip and loafer spoilers #skip to loafer spoilers #stl spoiler #chapter 65 #sousuke shima #iwakura mitsumi #shima is literally one of the most important characters to me #idk if I'll ever be able to express it properly #want to be able to thank sensei in person one day #duckmetas

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mrsshabana · 1 year ago

Note

I saw your posting Gyutaro role-playing courtesan and we being customers and I liked it a lot!!Can I request one shot or something detailed about it?

+I'm not native so my sentence can be awkward

𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒂𝒏!𝑮𝒚𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒐 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

♥ CW: 18+ content, MDNI, female reader, smut, creampie, dubcon, sex work, manipulation

♥ AN: Demon Gyutaro disguises himself as a human courtesan. (Basically switching places with Daki). I really enjoyed writing this one (sorry it took me awhile). But I think this is my favorite one shot I've written yet! Thanks for reading!

♥ WC: 2,512

"What?! Y-you want me...?" The tall man with flowing black locks, and vibrant sea-blue eyes looks down at you.

"Yes," You offer him a satchel full of money, "I would like to purchase a night with you."

He hesitantly takes the bag, "Customers never request me..." he mumbles, "Are you sure it's me you want for the night? There are men that are much more attractive than me..."

"I'm positive," you nod, "I have seen the other men in this house. And you are my favorite... I find you very attractive."

"Well then," he gulps, "Follow me."

With a skip in your step, you follow him down the hall and into an extravagant looking bedroom. Candles glowing in the corners of the room, illuminating the large futon in the middle. Decorated with elaborate silk sheets.

"Please take a seat," Gyutaro says politely, motioning towards some cushions in front on a low table.

You take a seat and look up at him as he pours you a cup of tea.

"My name is Gyutaro by the way," he says as he sits down in front of you.

"What a lovely name, I'm Y/N. It's a pleasure to be spending this evening with you," you blush as you sip at your tea.

Gyutaro sits there and watches you, unsure of how to move forward with the main event. You did pay him after all... so he might as well give you what you paid for.

He clears his throat and breaks the silence, "We can start whenever you're ready..."

You blush, remembering that you didn't come here for a simple cup of tea. "Oh um, I-I'm ready to start now."

"Alright then, make yourself comfortable," Gyutaro motions towards the futon. Trying not to stare as you strip down to your corset and panties, laying down on the silk sheets.

"Fuck," Gyutaro curses under his breath. You look so sexy. Never would he have imagined that he would get the opportunity to have sex with such a gorgeous woman. It makes his insecurities skyrocket.

If he shows you his body, surely you will demand a refund.

He takes a deep breath, building the strength to remove his kimono and reveal his body to you.

The room goes silent as he waits for you to express your disgust. But you never do.

You look up at him with the sweetest expression, patting the spot beside you on the futon.

"You... still want me?" he gasps in disbelief.

"Of course I do, why wouldn't I?" you cock your head to the side. He feels slightly insulted that you choose to ignore the obvious fact that his body isn't what you were expecting. But he can't complain. At least you aren't hurling insults at him.

All he can manage is a nod. Looking down at you, seeing your perfect body, he's already rock hard. His hormones take over, pushing his negative thoughts and insecurities aside.

Lasty he removes his underwear, his cock springing free.

You can't help but stare. It's so much larger than you had anticipated, and not only are you surprised by the size, but it's so pretty too. The same birthmarks that cover his face trail down his shaft as well. You can't help but admire them, watching as each vein pulses in anticipation of being inside of you.

Gyutaro wastes no time climbing on top of you, making himself comfortable between your legs.

He gently kisses your neck and whispers, "At any point, let me know if you want me to stop."

"O-ok," you moan, pulling him closer.

He grins and continues kissing and nipping at your neck, being sure to leave marks behind. He grinds his hips against your clothed pussy as he removes your corset. Kissing and twirling his tongue around your nipple, as his hand squeezes your other breast.

"A-ah!" you gasp.

He looks up at you with hooded eyes, not even bothering to stop rubbing his cock between your folds. "You like that huh? I can tell... you're already seeping through your panties," he smirks.

"Mm hm," you nod, "f-feels good."

"So, you won't mind if I take these off, hm?" he laces a finger under your panties, tugging them slightly.

"Please do," you mutter.

Gyutaro has never gotten an opportunity like this, he can't believe his luck. Right in this moment, he vows to himself that he is going to get as much from you as he can.

He removes your panties, watching in awe as your slick clings to the fabric as he pulls them away. His cock twitches at the thought that you could possibly want him so badly to be this wet.

Grabbing the base of his cock, he positions himself at your entrance, "Ready for me, Y/N?"

"Y-yes, I'm ready Gyutaro," you nod, spreading your legs wider for him.

With a smirk, Gyutaro leans his body forward as the tip of his cock slides into you. As he goes deeper, the sensation of your walls clenching down on him quite literally takes his breath away.

He lets out a low groan as he slowly slides into you, making sure to consider your comfort. You are his client after all and a part of him is hoping that you will come back for his services again someday.

You squeeze your eyes shut and cling onto him as he bottoms out, moaning in ecstasy at the feeling of being completely full.

Gyutaro stills for a moment, looking down and clenching his teeth. Trying to recompose himself enough to speak, "Are you... are you comfortable?" he mutters.

The fact that he cares so much about your comfort makes you blush. "Yes," you nod enthusiastically, "I'm comfortable. You can start moving now..." you look away in embarrassment.

The first few thrusts are shaky and tentative as Gyutaro tries to adjust to the pleasure that he's feeling. Even though he is a courtesan, a Yarō to be specific, he never gets requested to perform sexual services for customers. He earns his keep by acting and doing tea ceremonies, which he excels at.

But it's not long before he gets a good rhythm going. The beautiful moans that escape your lips encourage him to keep going, picking up the pace. His cock sliding in and out of you, filling the room with obscene wet slaps and squelches.

He already feels himself getting close, but he wants to make sure his customer is left satisfied, "I-I wanna make you cum," he says between pants and grunts.

You roll your fingers through his hair and move his head to look into your eyes, "I'm getting close Gyutaro, ah-, you're doing so good." You moan as you wrap your legs around his hips, bringing him closer to you. He barely pulls his cock out of you before thrusting back in again, the added friction of his pelvis rubbing against your clit bringing you even closer to climax.

And he can tell by the way your walls tighten around him. He feels like he is quite literally being milked.

He feels himself slipping as he becomes drunk off of the way your pussy pulls him in and begs for his cum. All he can think about is filling you up, nothing else matters.

When your walls start quivering, it pushes him over the edge.

Gyutaro crashes his lips with yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth as your body shakes beneath him and the two of you climax together. With another harsh thrust he's spilling his sticky hot seed inside of you, filling you to the brim. As his spotted cock twitches, he feels every part of his being let go and become one with you.

He's never experienced such pleasure in his entire life.

When his orgasm fades and he pulls away from the kiss, he looks into your glazed over eyes. Only to be met by the look of pure terror on your face.

"What's the matter?"

You are in complete shock. The man that you just made love to, is not the man you thought he was. But rather a demon.

His appearance completely changed. His long black hair is now half lime green, and his beautiful sea-blue eyes are now sickly with glowing yellow scleras. His vibrant skin now grey and lifeless. And when he opens his mouth to speak, you are met with deadly sharp teeth inches away from your face.

It takes Gyutaro a moment to realize that his human disguise had faded. He let his guard down and wasn't able to keep his guise up during his orgasm.

"Fuck," he growls as he quickly covers your mouth with his hand before you are able to scream.

"And I was starting to like you too," he sighs, looking down at you with a frown, "Now I have no other choice but to kill you."

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, your pleas being muffled by his hand.

"Don't worry darling," he smirks, "I'll make you cum again before you die."

He cackles as he watches the tears flow from your eyes.

His entire demeanor has changed now that he is showing his true self. Before, he was so polite but now he is the complete opposite. A blood thirsty killer ready to use you for his own enjoyment.

He momentarily moves his hand and grabs your hips to flip you over, pressing your ass against his dick. Before you even get the chance to speak, he's ramming his cock back inside of you. Eliciting a yelp from you.

"Ah-" you start, but his hand muffles the rest of your whimpers.

"Shut the fuck up," he punctuates each word with a hard thrust. Pulling your head up, he keeps his other hand seated on your waist. Your back arches as he bends you into this uncomfortable position.

You whine and yelp into his palm as he continues to abuse your already sore pussy. No longer considering your comfort, all you have become is a toy.

"Fuck," he grunts under his breath, "this pussy is so tight, Ngh- gonna miss it after I devour you."

He cackles when he feels your face contort in fear as your tears wet his hand. Gyutaro decides to move his hand from your mouth to your throat, firmly constricting your air flow as he feels his cock start to switch.

When you claw at his hand and start gasping for air it pushes him over the edge. Watching you struggle for your life, seeing you completely at his mercy. He empties another load into your pussy, his previous one already dripping down your thighs.

With a content sigh he releases you, causing you to fall on your face back onto the futon. Blood fills your mouth when you accidentally bite your lip, but that's the least of your concerns. You are too busy gasping for air to care. Your lungs burning.

Gyutaro sits back for a moment to watch you struggle. Looking down at his still erect cock he shrugs and to your dismay, grabs your waist again.

"P-please Gyutaro, don't hurt me," you whimper, weakly trying to crawl away from him.

"Calm down, I ain't gonna kill you yet," he chuckles as he positions you to sit on his lap.

"Just one more round, ok? I still wanna make you cum again," he tenderly moves your hair out of your face, "You'll ride my cock like a good girl, won't you?"

Wiping away your tears, you nod, "Y-yes..." you whimper as your shaky hand holds onto his shoulder for support while you position his cock at your entrance and slowly lower yourself onto him.

His eyes widen at your obedience, groaning when you sit on him fully.

He's shocked to see how you start riding him with enthusiasm, even going as far as to gently lay your head in the crook of his neck. Holding onto him and moaning sweetly into his ear.

He thought that you'd just be doing this to persuade him to spare your life, but why do your actions seem so genuine?

Maybe it's because you are strangely even more attracted to him in his true form. Something about having sex with a dangerous man-eating demon makes you want him even more. Being used like a toy by this powerful man. It all makes you want him even more.

"Ah Y/N..." he moans, gripping your ass and guiding you up and down his length.

"Mm you feel so good, Gyutaro," you pant, "so so good..."

You gently kiss the rough skin of his neck, causing him to gasp and moan. His adam's apple bobbing with each pleasured sound that escapes his lips.

He presses his thumb down on your clit and starts rubbing in tight circles.

"R-right there baby," you moan, encouraging him to pick up the pace. Being called baby pulls at his heart strings. He wants to make you cum so bad, but this time for less selfish reasons.

He passionately kisses you, gently sucking the blood from your bottom lip. You taste so sweet on his tongue. A taste he finds himself quickly getting addicted to.

As he continues to play with your clit, he uses his other hand to hold onto your hip and thrust up into you, meeting your hips with a loud, wet slap.

Your orgasm hits you hard, "Gyutaro!!" you scream. Your thighs trembling as your walls tighten and convulse around him.

Gyutaro thrusts a final time and he's unraveling with you, wrapping his muscular arms around you and holding you close as he fills you up with his cum for the third time tonight.

The way that the two of you hold onto each other, it's almost as if you love one another.

Gyutaro holds you in his arms, listening to your labored breaths.

He carefully slides out of you and lays you down on the futon. He looks down at you with a frown, watching as you continue to surprise him. You don't run away or beg for him to spare your life. It's almost as if you have completely forgotten he promised to kill you once he's had his fun.

Instead you just lay there and stare up at him with a look he is unfamiliar with. One that he doesn't quite understand but it causes his body to move on its own. Without saying anything, he lays down beside you and pulls you into his chest. Gently caressing your face, he watches as sleep overcomes you.

You look so peaceful. But how could that possibly be so, when you have a demon in your bed?

Once he is sure you are fast asleep, Gyutaro gets up and puts a layer of his kimono back on. Staring down at your helpless body sleeping under the silk sheets.

"Sister..." he rasps, "come out."

He hunches over and a beautiful woman with long white hair forms out of his back, quite literally crawling out of his skin.

"Yes brother?" she says obediently before she looks over at your sleeping form, "Oh, what do we have here?"

"Store this human in your obi," he demands, "I have plans for her..."

I want to thank @lilliumteaandbeez for educating me on the history of male courtesans in the entertainment district! Thank you so much for the help! ♡

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m1d-45 · 10 months ago

Note

just a small idea since you said you had a lil writers block: since wushi (lion dance) is used for important events/occasions and to honor special guests, maybe you could write about how ga-ming does a lil performance for creator?

- curse anon

vanguard’s fortune

note: this is not what you asked ! i thank you so much though

word count: 1k

-> warnings : written prior to 4.4, lots of “if you know you know” spoilers for liyue archon, story, and hangout quests, but nothin big

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept

< masterlist >

despite everything, ga ming knew he was lucky.

he certainly didn’t feel like he was. aside from his continued streak of bad luck at his performances, you never attended any of his shows and your vessels never gave him so much as a second glance. you’ve walked right by him on the street before—and yes, he knows you don’t ‘see’ most of liyue, but he was in the middle of a dance. he’s certain that word must have spread at least somewhat, but even when he put on a show during the last lantern rite, you didn’t attend. it was as if you didn’t even know he was there, skipping his meager stage to meet up with yun jin.

part of him wondered if you simply disliked liyue, but that was easily proven false. you took the time to accompany chongyun on his patrols, xiangling was more than happy to talk about when you’d helped her in a competition in mondstat, and you’d even fetched ingredients for the wangsheng consultant last year. it was the simple fact that you had nothing against liyue, and he was an outlier.

and yet, he was blessed. vision wielders were rare on their own, and only a thin sliver of them had constellations. he was incredibly lucky to be one of the few within your spotlight of attention, but he never felt the love that was supposed to come with it. yes, he had a vision, the lion carved on the back a figure he’s long memorized, but even the latest of liyuen rotations had a chance to exist by your side. though the others always tried to reassure him, their words fell flat. xingqiu had recieved his vision long before he became a vessel, but he had several turns in the sky to try. chongyun was largely ignored and ningguang was rarely missing from the jade palace, but that information didn’t help as much as they thought it did.

he didn’t care that he wasn’t a vessel (as much as one couldn’t care about such a thing) so much as he was ignored. you fought by ningguang’s side and helped yanfei out of the chasm, but he’d never even heard his name thrown your direction. it could be argued that he was being selfish or even egotistical, but he didn’t think so. sword and strongbox secure transport agency was a well-known name throughout liyue, and yet you’d never so much as heard a rumor. it didn’t affect his business—nor did he want your attention for business purposes��but with you helping a film show (at least now he knew you enjoyed theater) in fontaine, he may or may not have been hoping that yilong wharf’s name might have been passed your way.

it hadn’t been, though. his days went on and he continued his rounds as usual, doing his best to promote his dance and maybe getting a few mora thrown his way in return if he was lucky.

but that was fine. irritating, sure, but fine. liyue was in the tail end of preparations for this year’s lantern rite, and he was set on attending. as soon as the ministry of civil affairs opened applications for performers, he’d done his best to secure himself a stage. nobody had given him a secure word, though, saying that it was “up to divine guidance” as if your traveler hadn’t taken the transport up to the jade chamber last week. yes, you often found other things to do during lantern rite, digging into liyue’s past, but you still attended the scheduled events. you still walked the streets and saw the stalls, and there was no way that the entirety of the main road was already taken up when he’d made a point of asking early.

it was because they saw him as a guard first and a dancer second. most people did, and he was lucky they’d given him uncertainty over a guaranteed rejection. the only reason they did at all was because of the constellation etched into his vision, and he was lucky to have that too. he was lucky to have this chance when most street performers could only dream of performing at the lantern rite.

‘lucky.’ it was an accurate word, but one he was beginning to get tired of hearing.

it was fine, though. he was determined—his vision blazed as he left the ministry’s office, a constant warmth at his side—to prove himself, determined to perform for you. he didn’t know when his chance in the stars would be, or when he’d have his time by your side, but he would make the most of each day until then. when, not if, he did, he would do everything in his power to make the best impression possible.

he gave a few polite waves to various merchants as he walked through liyue, making the familiar trek over the bridge and past the gate. the millelith didn’t stop him, and he didn’t stop to say hello, only lingering long enough to acknowledge them with a quick nod. he knew liyue’s hills and they knew he did too, easily navigating to a quiet, flat space of plain. the threat of hillichurls was a constant outside the harbor, but he didn’t let that stop him, confident despite the growing twilight.

ga ming reached into his inventory and pulled on his mask, hands easily finding the controls for the massive puppet. he took a breath, then began to dance, his feet sweeping over the quiet grass.

he had no guarantee when or if he’d receive the chance to chance to win your favor. but if you chose to have him on your stage, he was determined to put on the best show you’d ever seen.

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exhaslo · 1 year ago

Text

Kinktober Day 27- CEO!Miguel x New Hire!Reader PT.2 (Toys/orgasm denail)

*Heavily requested by a lot of you, haha*

It had been a hell of a ride from when you first started working for Miguel. Lyla was still not happy with the turn of events. You were literally just working at the company as Miguel's sexual relief. Now, you did help Lyla with her work. You did take your job seriously since you did want to be a help, but it was difficult sometimes. Most people in the building just saw you as a gold digger. Someone who was just taking advantage of Miguel's money. It hurt your feelings.

You had a small pout against your cheek as you walked throughout the building. Your arms filled with paperwork that you needed to copy and deliver to each of the supervisors. Your heels clicked against the floorboards, making your presence known to the others. It felt weird now. Before anyone knew about you and Miguel, things were easier. Now they just looked at you differently. Handing the paperwork to each of the supervisors, you made your way back to your desk on the top floor.

"(Y/N), can you come to my office?" Miguel called on your ear piece.

"Yes Sir," You chirped.

You smiled as you heard his low, rumbling groan. You and Miguel had been together for three months since Lyla came back. Despite all the fuss with your other coworkers, Miguel was always there to cheer you up. That, and after some convincing, Lyla eventually agreed to the two of you dating. As long as she was no where around the office when Miguel rails you. Miguel had a tendency to fuck you so rough that your moans could be heard past his doors.

" You called for me, sir?" You chirped as you entered Miguel's office.

Lyla immediately stood and made her way downstairs to the local coffee shop. Miguel motioned you towards his desk. You skipped over to him, sitting on his desk. Miguel grabbed your waist, inhaling your scent. He let out another groan as you whispered a 'sir' into his ear. Miguel reached into his bottom drawer, pulling out a small box. He placed the box in your hands, demanding that you open it. You tilted your head in confusion,

"Hm? New panties?" You questioned, then noticed something about them, "M-Miguel, what is this?!" You squeaked.

The panties had a small vibrator right where your clit was supposed to rest on. Your cheeks burned up as Miguel told you to put them on. You huffed quietly, putting the panties on. Miguel always made sure that you wore nothing under your skirt whenever you worked. It was easier for him to fuck you, so this was a first. You felt slightly uncomfortable as you felt the vibrator press against your clit. The panties itself felt slightly heavy too.

"Okay?"

"Wait, lemme just get a small taste," Miguel whispered as he held a small remote.

You watched as he pressed a button. Suddenly, you felt the vibrator turn on and hit your clit. Your body arched and trembled from the toy. You hovered over Miguel's desk, whimpering lowly from the sensation. Miguel just groaned in response, enjoying your reaction to his new toy. He wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing the back of your neck. You spread your legs more, whining at the vibrator. Miguel raised the setting, watching as your body flinched, your face contorting in pleasure.

" Voy a disfrutar que me pidas mi polla. Llamándome señor cada vez que te robo el orgasmo hasta que te folles en mi polla. (I'm going to enjoy you begging me for my dick. Calling me sir each time I steal your orgasm away until you fuck yourself on my cock.)" He whispered in your ear. You moaned lowly, your butt pressing against his crotch,

"M-Mig....S-Sir, sir please," You begged lowly. Miguel just groaned in response,

"Not yet, mi pequeña .muñeca sexual (my little fuck doll). I want to savor these moments. It will be worth it later," He nibbled against your ear, turning the vibrator off.

"Miguel!" You cried out, having your orgasm stolen from you.

Miguel inhaled to the sounds of your whines. He kissed the back of your neck, reminding you to deliver some paperwork to bookkeeping now. You took a moment to catch your breathe, still whimpering from your high being stolen. You grabbed the paperwork and made your way towards the door. Right as you did, you felt the vibrator again.

"S-Sir~!"

"I'll be waiting," He said with a smirk.

--------------

It had only been an hour and you were currently in the bathroom, panting like crazy. You weren't sure how much more you could handle. You were on the brick of orgasming four times now and Miguel stole each one away. You were ready to please yourself, but you knew that it would take away the fun Miguel had for later. You took your work phone out, checking Miguel's schedule for today. He always had gaps for you to help him 'destress'.

You whimpered, seeing that Miguel's only free slot was for another two hours. This was going to be torture. Speaking of torture, you flinched forward as the vibrator started to abuse your clit again. You covered your mouth, trying to suppress a moan since anyone could enter at any moment. And speak of the devils...

"(Y/N)'s been weird today. Do you think Miguel finally tossed her aside?"

"Maybe, now us hard workers have a real chance."

You bit your lower lip, shaking from your anger and the pleasure of the vibrator. Right when you were about to have your release, it was stolen again. It was like Miguel knew how long you would crack. Taking a moment to breathe, you clenched your fist. If only these girls knew the real reason then they would shut their mouths. Once you heard them leave, you hurried your way over to Miguel's office. One of his meetings was about to end. The next could wait.

You stormed pass Lyla, who immediately went to get another coffee. She turned at the elevator, grinning,

"I already moved his next appointment."

"Thanks, Lyla."

You stormed into Miguel's office, seeing him getting ready to leave. He gave you a smug grin before reaching for the remote again. You grabbed his collar as he turned the vibrator on and kissed him. Your body pressed against his as you sat him back on his chair. Miguel's hands laid against your waist, drawing circles against you.

"I have a-"

"Moved," You hushed him, grinding your hips against his.

Miguel groaned as the vibrator rubbed against his dick with each grind. Your face was blissed out as you rubbed your hips furiously. Miguel took your shirt apart, sucking against your breasts as he pulled your skirt up. The threw the remote to the side, allowing you to finally have your much needed relief. Your moans started to get erratic as you felt your high coming. Miguel groaned as he undid his pants, burying his head between your breasts.

"Huele tan bien. Mi preciosa niña, has estado esperando mi polla, ¿verdad? (Smell so good. My lovely girl, you've been waiting for my dick, right?)" He hummed.

You moaned at the sight of his dick, moving your panties slightly. The vibrator still rubbing against your clit as you positioned yourself. You whimpered as his dick easily entered your drenched hole. Miguel grunted as he placed you on your back against his desk and started to pound your pussy. You arched your back, finally reaching your orgasm.

"Así es, esa es mi chica. Mira que guarra eres con mi polla. Tan jodidamente hermoso, todo para mí. (That's right, that's my girl. Look at how slutty you are for my dick. So fucking beautiful, all for me.)" He groaned lowly.

You were a moaning mess as Miguel slammed his dick deeply inside you. Each thrust bulling your cervix, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Miguel held your waist as he pounded your hard and deep. He brought his lips against your neck as his thumb pressed against the vibrator. Your moans grew louder as your pussy sucked his dick tighter. Miguel groaned lowly as you reached another orgasm.

"Guess we need to use these toys more often," He chuckled, stopping to fill you with his cum, "Me vas a ordeñar seco a este ritmo. (You're going to milk me dry at this rate.)"

"A-Ah~ S-Sir...s'good...m-more~!" You begged. Miguel could only moan,

"Again, say it again!"

"Sir!" You cried out as he placed you on your stomach, fucking you harshly from behind, "Sir! S-Sir~ Ah~"

Miguel hummed to your cries. He lifted your hips closer to his, pounding the life out of your pussy. He licked his lips, feeling you tighten around his cock. You were his perfect girl. Cumming inside you again, Miguel exhaled softly. He really needed to go to his meeting. Miguel pulled out of you, watching his cum drip out of your hole. He removed your panties, wanting to give you a break after being so good for him all day.

"You did well, mi amor." He kissed the back of your neck. You turned on your back, panting heavily,

"Miguel," You sat up to kiss him, "I love you, sir."

Miguel's eyes widen as he fixed his shirt. He turned towards you, enjoying your fucked out expression. Another groan escaped his lips as he kissed you, pushing his dick inside you once more. He held your lower back, thrusting into you like a madman.

"Yo también te amo. Qué buena puta chica. (I love you too. Such a good fucking girl.)" He replied. You moaned out, moving your hips along with his, "All mine. All for me."

"S-Sir~"

Miguel grunted as he ripped another orgasm from you. Sweat rolled down his forehead as he went to fill you again and again. How could he stop now? Miguel only stopped once he heard Lyla call for him for his meeting. You whined in response. Miguel chuckled towards you, giving you one last load. He stroked your hair, pulling you in for another kiss.

"I think it's time you move in with me," You panted softly, fixing your skirt as he pulled out,

"Only if you can last as long as I did with that toy,"

#kinktober #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel

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