#even WITH escape ramps

[crankybutthead]

Tired of finding drowned birds

[sunforgrace]

he sat there on the ground and cried. for cas. cas told him he loved him was taken away and he buried his head in his hands and wept

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[fingertipsmp3]

Keep having recurring dreams that I’m in prison

[luna-azzurra]

How To Write A Chase Scene

Before anyone takes off running, the reader needs to know why this matters. The chase can’t just be about two people running, it’s gotta have a reason. Is your hero sprinting for their life because the villain has a knife? Or maybe they’re chasing someone who just stole something valuable, and if they don’t catch them, it’s game over for everyone. Whatever the reason, make it clear early on. The higher the stakes, the more the reader will care about how this chase plays out. They’ll feel that surge of panic, knowing what’s on the line.

Sure, a chase scene is fast, people are running, dodging, maybe even falling. But not every second needs to be at full speed. If it’s too frantic from start to finish, the reader might get numb to the action. Instead, throw in some rhythm. Use quick, sharp sentences when things get intense, like someone stumbling or almost getting caught. But then slow it down for a second. Maybe they hit a dead end or pause to look around. Those brief moments of slow-down add suspense because they feel like the calm before the storm kicks up again.

Don’t let the setting just be a backdrop. The world around them should become a part of the chase. Maybe they’re tearing through a marketplace, dodging carts and knocking over tables, or sprinting down alleyways with trash cans crashing behind them. If they’re running through the woods, you’ve got low-hanging branches, roots, slippery mud, and the constant threat of tripping. Describing the environment makes the scene more vivid, but it also adds layers of tension. It’s not just two people running in a straight line, it’s two people trying to navigate through chaos.

Running isn’t easy, especially when you’re running for your life. This isn’t some smooth, graceful sprint where they look cool the whole time. Your character’s lungs should be burning, their legs aching, maybe their side starts to cramp. They’re gasping for air, barely holding it together. These details will remind the reader that this chase is taking a real toll. And the harder it gets for your character to keep going, the more the tension ramps up because the reader will wonder if they’ll actually make it.

Don’t make it too easy. The villain should almost catch your hero or the hero should almost grab the villain. But something happens last second to change the outcome. Maybe the villain’s fingers brush the hero’s coat as they sprint around a corner, but they manage to slip out of reach just in time. Or maybe your hero almost gets close enough to tackle the villain, but slips on some gravel, losing precious seconds.

And Don’t let the chase end in a way that feels too predictable. Whether your character gets away or is caught, it should be because of something clever. Maybe they spot a hiding place that’s almost impossible to notice, or they use their surroundings to mislead their pursuer. Or, the person chasing them pulls a fast one, Laying a trap, cutting off their escape route, or sending the hero down the wrong path. You want the end to feel earned, like it took quick thinking and ingenuity, not just dumb luck or fate.

[caelivir]

between me and you, our little secret | suna rintarou

synopsis. rintarou can't keep hiding the fact that he is madly in love with you.

pairing. suna rintarou x fem!reader | wc. 1.3k | genres. secret & established relationship, fluff, down bad and jealous rinnie | warnings. suggestive in the beginning (i got carried away...)

notes. something came over me last night. the entire idea of this made me foam at the mouth. tbh this isn't supposed to be like a fic fic so that's why it's a mess 😭. title definitely did not come from a one direction lyric 👍.

either way hope you enjoy. and happy 300 (+19) followers. love yall.

you and rintarou both agree to be in a secret relationship. your reasoning being that you want to be able to have moments to yourselves without having to deal with the hassle of gossiping peers for now. (or in other words: not having to deal with an interrogation from the miyas).

it's full of sneaking around and hiding away from the prying eyes of your classmates. it's getting texts from him during lunch to meet him at the unused classroom on the third floor after school ends. you'd be waiting patiently, sitting atop one of desks there until he's finally able to slip his way in.

it's you being barely able to get a 'hi' in before rin's crashing his lips onto yours. his forcefulness causes your mouth to fall agape, and he doesn't hesitate to slide his tongue on yours. his hands stroke your thighs before they settle onto one of his favorite parts of your body—your waist. (the reality being he can't choose a singular one. he adores everything about you). your arms drape themselves over his shoulders as the kiss deepens. your mouths move together in perfect harmony, sending waves of heat down to your stomach and ramping up the speed of your heartbeat.

it's seductively messy and hot that you can't help the mewl that escapes your throat. rintarou bites your bottom lip in response before trailing sloppy, open-mouth kisses down your jaw and neck. it doesn't last long because he craves the feeling of your lips against his so rin guides his head back up to get another taste of you. he devours you entirely until your lungs are begging for a breath of air.

it's you having to remind rin that he's going to be late to practice if he doesn't leave now, and he'll whine and groan complaints to you until your insistence forces him to comply, but he doesn't leave immediately, not without stealing another kiss from you.

a secret romance with suna rintarou means being able to have restrain in public or group settings. that's a lie. neither of you are very good at it because your fingers constantly graze each other when you walk side by side when you're with the twins. and if you're feeling brave, you'll wrap your hand around his index and middle fingers for a brief, fleeting moment, but it's enough to make the both of you long for more.

at group dinners, in the chance that rintarou is able to find a way to sit next to you, he'll sneak his hand onto your thigh or hand, tracing anything and everything onto your skin, all while making fun of atsumu from across the table. polygons. misshaped lines. animals. the characters of his name. the characters of yours. hearts. i love you's.

or in class, suna always has his eye on you no matter what you're doing. there's a constant feeling that someone's staring at you, and every single time, it's him. you turn back and give him a beaming grin that makes his heart melt.

one night, when you and rin are cuddling in your bed, you sleepily tell him that you're ready to launch your relationship. you say that he doesn't need to feel pressured by you. you'll wait for him to be ready too, no matter how long it may take.

it's in that moment he's reminded how special, precious, and considerate you are. he decides right there that if you're ready, then he is too. the only problem is how exactly do you launch a relationship? where does he even begin?

he's stuck on it for weeks, and he swears that the longer it takes him, the more he gets tested. because where did that loser from class 3 come from? he's dropped by every single day to talk to you and for a very obvious reason. suna can see the damn hearts swimming in the guy's eyes.

the longer he watches these interactions, the more it pisses him off. what gave him the right to breathe near you? it takes everything in your boyfriend to not approach the guy and tell him to fuck off. you'd probably get upset if he did that so rintarou forces himself to let his jealousy simmer.

it only gets worse after a particularly grueling match. he was worn down. all rin wanted to have see you, have lunch with the team, and go home.

you always come to games to support him and the twins. it's a routine at this point. you'd meet up with them once they got changed and congratulate everyone on their win. atsumu would then beg you to eat with them, and you'd insist that it's fine. rintarou sees right through you. you're always going to agree because it gives you an excuse to be around each other without anyone questioning it.

however, what isn't part of the routine is seeing his opponent flirt with you. it's so obvious that you're not comfortable, and the bastard can't seem to take a hint. the final thread of rin's patience snaps. his jealousy boils over.

he drops his bag and is fuming when he approaches the scene before him. your eyes widen at the sight of your boyfriend because you have never seen him this angry before. he doesn't bother saying anything to the bastard before him. instead, suna wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in to capture your lips in a searing kiss that you reciprocate instantly.

atsumu's gasp is so painfully loud and dramatic that it probably could have been heard around the world, and rintarou continues kissing you regardless. the only reason he stops is because he still feels the presence of his opponent that had the audacity to even try hitting on you.

"you're still here?" suna scorns, raising an eyebrow as he looks the guy up and down.

"what the hell are you-"

"kissing my girlfriend. am i not allowed to kiss my girlfriend anymore?" rin challenges with a tilt of his head.

the guy snaps his gaze to you. "what? you never said you had-"

"i did." you clarify with a dead glare. "i said it multiple times, and you didn't care to listen, asshat."

the guy bites his tongue, red in the face with embarrassment or rage or maybe both, and hustles away. when he's gone, rintarou finally calms down. he looks at you, feeling guilt rise in his stomach.

"sorry." your boyfriend apologizes. "i didn't mean for us to go public like that. i just-"

you laugh. "don't worry about it, love. i was getting fed up too. besides," your lips pull into a teasing smirk. "it was kinda hot. you should get jealous more often."

suna frowns slightly. "i'd rather not."

"tsumu, ya owe me twenty." osamu says apathetically. this effectively snaps you and rin back to the audience you completely forgot you had. every single one of them is gaping at their middle blocker.

"like hell i do!" atsumu protests.

you blink at osamu, jaw falling open slightly. "you made a bet?"

"and?" osamu shoots back as if putting money on your friend's relationship isn't a bizarre thing to do. your boyfriend opts out of saying anything else, and you have to stifle a laugh.

"hey! don't think yer gettin' out of this! ya have some explaining to do!" the blonde twin points an accusing finger at the both of you.

"sure atsumu. sure." rin dismisses the setter as he's finally, finally, able to interlock his fingers with yours for all eyes to see. you squeeze rin's hand as a warm feeling spreads throughout your body. a smile blooms on your pretty face.

never again will suna rintarou ever hide you from the world. he loves you with his entire being, and he'll spend the rest of his life making sure everyone knows it.

[little-pondhead]

Clone AU Idea:

Danny is a great person to be a clone of a lot of different people, but have we considered the reverse?? That some of Danny’s clones, before Dani’s creation, escaped when Vlad thought they had failed?

There’s a hero out there, somewhere, with memories of being born in a lab run by a vampire. They run away to another universe to avoid Vlad. They fabricated their origin story to fit in and stabilized themselves because ofc they did. They’re a Fenton. They establish themselves as a hero due to the inherited powers, maybe getting on a JL team. And they just, don’t bring it up. Ever. To anyone.

Then Danny-even funnier if he’s still a teen cause time runs differently-manages to sniff his clones out simply because Dani remembers something one of her brothers said before he died. About how a few of them had escaped before, so there was hope for her since she was the best. She had a chance.

So Danny finds out he has more than one clone and goes on a manhunt through the Realms to make sure they’re okay. No one is safe. The clones don’t know who he is but they do know that a fourteen year old is showing them up at their own game. They’d been struggling with these powers for so long at this point, estranged from their original world, and some kid who claims to be their dad is beating their ass?? (It’s bonding time)

Just, take ‘Danny adopts random heroes’ and ramp it up to TEN. I wanna see it.

[ihavenointerestinreallife]

thinking about homelander and tracking his s/o’s cycle… 18+

—

definitely don’t think he’d have an app or anything like his partner would, he’d just know. he’d know exactly when your emotions are high, the moment the bleeding begins– and he’d definitely know when you were ovulating.

in fact i think knowing your ovulation window is one of the things he’s the most knowledgeable about. he dreams about fucking you every single night that you’re in that time period, and you’d be stupid to think you were getting away with getting pumped full of his cum just once in a day.

you see, homelander’s biggest desire– after reforming america to his image, that is– is seeing your belly swollen with his offspring. if there’s anything that could excite him more than the reflection of himself in the mirror, it would be the physical embodiment of himself in your arms.

so when you’re home one night, windows open and fans blaring, your sticky body sprawled out on the bed wearing practically nothing trying to escape the heat, you weren’t surprised when your lovers footsteps were faster and more eager to get to you than normal.

he could see you from a mile away in just a small tank top and panties– could smell the sweat on your body, the heat between your legs especially. his silhouette stood in the doorway, wind from the outside messing up his hair from the day. he looked animalistic with his lips thinned down into a frown and his eyes slightly crimson.

the two of you exchanged no words, only sounds. sounds of skin colliding, the bed creaking underneath his weight, and homelander finding his head between your thighs before you could blink. he relished in the way your cunt was already sopping for him before you even saw him, as if your body knew he was coming.

your head fell back against the headboard with a small thud, but all you could worry about was how sensitive your clit was versus how it normally is, and how when his gloved fingers slipped inside you thought you were going to cum right then and there.

and honestly, you would, and you did. usually he’d force you to beg to even become deserving of such a reward, but tonight all he craved was forming you into his perfect image of a mother. he felt your walls clamp tightly around his fingers, and he thought right then and there you were the woman he was destined to be with.

when he came back up your lips collided feverishly, teeth almost clanging together with how eager the two of you were. the heat had ramped up, but all you could complain about now was the clothes separating the two of you from being skin to skin.

the fat tip of his cock rubbed teasingly against your clit, “could smell her aching for me from the elevator, fuck..” you knew he couldn’t tease you for much longer, it only took a moment for him to push past your opening and stretch you apart. your cunt had become accustomed to the burn that accompanied him, but instead of pain it always brought you pleasure.

“i– fuck– i’ve been in this fucking apartment all day just needing you, craving you.” you whined, hands reaching out to grab at his hair. homelander said nothing, instead laughing in response, because he’d be a fool if he didn’t already know.

“i know baby, i can tell by the way your pussy is gripping me, shit, it’s like you haven’t been fucked in weeks,” he grabbed your jaw, forcing you to make eye contact with him, “but we both know i’d never let you go that long without getting fucked like the whore you are.”

your walls clamped around him at his words of degradation, your fists tightening in his scalp. he laughed at your reaction again because he just knew this would happen, he’d been waiting for it for days.

“you want me to cum inside this pretty little pussy? huh?” his grip on your jaw is steadfast, his speed in which he thrusted into you only increasing as he got closer to his release.

“yes, please homelander,” he loved when you used his supe name during rough sex, “need you to cum inside..”

his breath hitched at your own admittance, thrusts slowing for a moment before catching their original speed again. “if you want it so bad, cum then. cum on my dick like i know you fucking want to, you little slut.” his tone was harsh and demanding, and you felt your stomach warm with some kind of sick butterflies.

your thighs began to shake underneath him, and with a couple more thrusts you gave in to the white light begging to shroud your vision. your walls clenched and signaled your orgasm, thought it was quite obvious from the gush of fluid that coated his pelvis.

homelander came right then and there, finally allowing the load he'd been holding in to coat your insides, fulfilling the silent promise that he'd get you pregnant.

[yandere-wishes]

Hi!!

I have a question... what do you think sentinels prime punshiments would look like? :3 what would be the worst one?

｡˚ ❀ ˚｡ He's so evil and sadistic...so why do I love him so much?!?!

𝄞 Real Men by Mitski

❀ The Icon of Iacon

❀ He loves the rogue sparks that fly inches from his face as he burns or rather "engraves" you. Sentinel uses his torch to engrave his name (Or rather a pretty cursive signature) somewhere on his darling's chassis. Similar to what he did to Megatron. He'll trail his digits over the resplendent scar later on. Making sure he feels every dip and curve of his name across her armor. Every shiver and shutter that runs ramped through his beloved darling's frame.

❀ Sentinel Prime isn't a gentle bot. He prefers to not see himself as barbaric just determined, steadfast. That's why he plucks the tires from his darling's body, not because he's cruel but because he'll do anything to keep her by his side. Although it's hard to find an excuse for how he relishes in the warm energon that coats his digits as he thrusts them into her open lacerations. Hard to find the right words when he's trailing open-mouthed kisses between gaping iron and savoring her ethereal taste as he eagerly licks her gushing wounds. Not cruel, no immoral...just in love.

❀ Her alt mode is rendered utterly useless. Pretty shiny thing that can't move. It leaves his darling ruined emotionally. She can't bear the state she's in. The grotesque useless thing she now has to transform into...

❀ So Sentinel rips out her T-cog. He does it to preserve her mental state, he swears. Does it so she won't have to turn into the form she's come to despise so wholeheartedly...And maybe if he's allowed a moment of selfishness he'll confuse in hushed tone whispers that he may have also done it to prevent her from running away.

❀ Although the procedure entirely depends on how his darling behaves. If she's sweet and docile, only ever trying to escape from his golden grasp. Then he'll take pity on her and permit her to remain unconscious through the whole thing, he's only doing this for her after all, he doesn't want her to suffer but it's necessary to keep her safe. Things are always "necessary" with him.

❀ However if his darling is feisty headstrong and constantly putting up a fight, a constant threat, metallic rose throne at his side, daring even to try and harm him. Then he'll definitely rip her T-cog straight from her chest, making sure she feels each wire snap, the grotesque unnatural expansion of her metallic chest. The rigorous pop of your diodes. The gory crunch of circuits snapping, forced to release the precious organ. He wants her withering in the pain. Looking into his optics and finally understanding that he owns her.

❀ The thing about a bot like Sentinel is that they can so easily look in a mirror and only see justice and golden paragons. Blood-soaked rhyme and reason that always ends with them draped in innocence relishing in the thing they want most. Bots like Sentinel, bots whose deific power ripples through every vein of a planet. Can never be painted as monsters, as wretched. They have too much authority and excuses to be anything but wholly perfect.

❀ You'd been so used to internal pain. The righteous crack of sparks, blunt anxiety cascading through your circuits. Maybe it's cause there isn't much that can harm a Cybertronian, not much that dents and rips celestial steel. But with him, everything is outwards. The churn of a nervous stomach is nothing compared to the rippling agony of a broken leg. Sentinel rips the pain from your metallic viscera, baths you in your own ichor, bedaubs you in pain as he calls you his "sweet little lover".

❀ "I hope Primus sends you straight to Unicron!" You can't help but scream between tears and traumatized sobs. You straighten your spine, knees folded to your chest. Your energon pools beneath you, pouring from his latest mauling. Open-ended wires spark as they make contact with your blue essence.

❀ Sentinel only chuckles, sky-hued optics playfully darting to the ground. 'Dear Primus, I don't believe in you'... but all he offers his darling is a sweet sugar-laced smile and a saccharine peck on the cheek.

❀ Sentinel will never admit it, it's hard to show such benignity when you rule an entire planet, but maybe -just maybe- at the end of the cycle his favorite misery to besiege upon you, is when he grips your chin or cheek and tugs you towards his lips. Savouring your ethereal taste. When he guides your servos to his chassis, pulling you closer till both are one. When he can just hold and kiss you. Just be with you. A romantic scene framed eternally by Cyerbtron's setting sun.

❀ If you close your optics, you can almost pretend to be in love...

[sonarspace]

EDGED BOUNDARIES (FT. NANAMI)

synopsis. a little teasing is harmless... until it gets too much to handle content. nsfw! ēdging (lots of it). overstīmulation. subspāce mention. use of sēx toys. orgāsms. unprotected p in v. (missionāry. cōwgirl. butterfly.) wc. 2.6k

it wasn’t meant to be serious—just a half-teasing remark thrown into the air while your hand trailed dangerously close to nanami’s thigh. “have you ever tried…toys?” you asked, voice low and sultry, every syllable dripping with an edge that had him pausing. his usual cool facade cracked just enough for you to see the flicker of fascination in his eyes.

nanami raised an eyebrow, a slow exhale escaping his lips. “you’re full of surprises,” he muttered, but his voice thickened, and you could tell you’d gotten to him.

“you have no idea,” you whispered, lips brushing his ear, feeling the unmistakable twitch beneath your palm. his body responded before his mind caught up.

now you were sprawled on the bed, your thighs glistening from how wet you’d already become. your breath quickened as you watched him hold the small buzzing toy in his hand. it looked so small in his grip, but you could feel the anticipation in the air, thick enough to make your skin prickle.

“you're dripping,” nanami said in his usual velvety voice with a hint of roughness. his thumb grazed along your slit, making you jolt, warmth pooling in your core.

“all for you,” you whimpered, as his fingers teased the edge of your folds, not quite giving you what you wanted but close enough to make you ache.

“such a mess already.” he murmured, and before you could respond, the vibrator was pressed against your clit. the sudden jolt of pleasure made you gasp, your back arching off the bed. the sensation was electric—buzzing and pulsing, making your juices drip and soak the sheets beneath you.

nanami's lips were suddenly on yours, swallowing your gasps as his tongue flicked against your own. it was messy and sloppy, saliva dripping down the corner of your mouth as his teeth grazed your lower lip, tugging it gently. “fuck, you taste so good.” he groaned, pulling back only to suck on your tongue, biting down gently before licking along the edge of your swollen lips.

“do you want me to turn it up?” he asked, a devilish smirk tugging at his lips. the sweet nanami you knew was nowhere to be seen. the question hung in the air, thick with expectation. you nodded, breath hitching as he did just that, the intensity ramping up. the vibrations surged, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“tell me what you want,” he commanded, his voice a low growl. “i want to hear you say it.”

“i want you, ken,” you moaned, losing yourself in the rhythm of the toy. your body moved against it, desperate for more.

“and what about this?” he pressed, bringing the toy closer to your clit again. you could barely catch your breath, each pulse making you squirm.

“please… just touch me.” your words came out in a gasp.

“i want you to earn it.” he grinned, holding the toy firmly against you. “you can do better than that.”

“ken, please.” you begged, the heat in your core begging for release. “i need you.”

“that’s better.” he chuckled darkly, leaning down to capture your lips again. he pulled away just enough to whisper, “show me how much you want it.”

you obeyed, rolling your hips against the vibrator, each movement making groans spill from your lips as your nails dug into his shoulder, leaving half crescents. his eyes darkened as he watched you, his breath quickening as you continued to grind against the toy.

you were so close, so fucking close, until he suddenly pulled away the toy, soaked in your juices, and chuckled under his breath. you didn’t even register it at first, the delicious build-up melted away, and you half cried his name in your sweet syrupy voice.

“kento,” you whined, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “what the hell?”

you glared up at him, wanting to lash out, but the look in his eyes stopped you. he was enjoying this—enjoying watching you squirm as the pulsing toy was removed from your body, leaving you aching and wanting.

without breaking eye contact, he brought the toy up to his mouth. a low hum escaped him as he licked it clean of your arousal, savoring every drop. a slow, satisfied smile spread across his lips as he met your gaze again. “sweet,” he commented.

he leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, letting you taste the remnants of your own arousal on his tongue. you whimpered into his mouth.

“do you want me to take you on, or do you want that?” he murmured, his breath fanning against your lips.

“i want you, kento. but please, just…”

“just what?” he teased, his fingers trailing down your side, eliciting goosebumps.

“want to feel you inside me,” you breathed, your heart racing as you locked your eyes with his. “please, i need you.”

“need me, huh?” he echoed, a wicked grin stretching across his face. he dipped his head, trailing kisses down your neck. you moaned softly, arching your back, trying to press yourself against him.

“y–yes, ken,” you gasped, fingers tangling in his hair. “need you to fill me up, make me feel good.”

he groaned, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “you’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” his voice was teasing, as he pushed your thighs apart, settling between your legs. “but i love it.”

he positioned himself at your entrance, pressing just the tip against you. your breath hitched as the sensation made your cunt clench. you reached out, pulling him closer, desperate for more.

“please,” you whimpered, eyes pleading. “i can’t take it anymore. just—”

before you could finish, he pushed inside, filling you completely. the stretch was exhilarating, and a loud moan escaped your lips. he buried himself deep, loving the way you enveloped him.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, beginning a slow, deep thrust. each movement made your head spin, pleasure pooling in your stomach as he found a rhythm that had you gasping for more.

“harder,” you urged, your nails digging into his back. “please, kento, don’t hold back.”

“don’t worry, baby. i’m just getting started,” he promised, picking up the pace. his thrusts grew more frantic, filling the air with the sound of skin slapping against skin. each stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, and you felt your orgasm building up again.

“that’s it,” he murmured, his breath hitching as he buried his face into your neck. “you like it when i fuck you like this, don’t you??”

“gahhh, yes!” you cried, every thrust hitting that sweet spot deep inside you. “soo good, ken.”

“let me hear you, baby. tell me how good it feels,” he commanded, his voice low and rough.

“you feel so fucking good inside me. don’t stop, please don’t—”

but then he slowed down, pulling back just enough to grab the toy. his fingers deftly traced the toy over your chest, teasing your hardened nipples before drifting down, hovering above your aching clit. he pressed it down slowly, making your legs shake slightly from the sudden rush of sensation. you moaned, arching into the touch as he rubbed the toy against you, relishing the way it heightened your need for him.

you wept a whine as he pulled out completely, watching as you clenched around nothing, your body desperate for him.

“shh,” he murmured, slipping off the bed and leaving you breathless and confused. your heart raced as you tried to guess what he was up to, the air thick with tension.

he came back with a dildo, and the sight made your breath catch. he pressed it against your lips, silently urging you to wet it. you took the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it, eager to please him.

“good girl,” he praised, a smirk playing on his lips as your cheeks flushed with warmth. he slid the dildo inside you, and the sudden buzz jolted through you, catching you off guard. “oh, fuck,” you gasped, your back arching once again at the intensity.

without missing a beat, he pressed the other vibrator against your clit, and the overwhelming pressure made you squirm. your mind blurred with pleasure, each sensation heightened to a dizzying degree.

“please, kento,” you whimpered, your body craving more, every nerve ending alive with tension. you could feel the sweet release building inside you.

finally, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you. “ken—oh my god!” you cried, feeling yourself cum beneath him.

he pulled the dildo out, but kept the vibrator pressed against your throbbing clit. you squirmed, overwhelmed by the sensation, but he held you firm, a smirk playing on his lips. “you can take it,” he whispered, his words sparking a desire to keep going. all you wanted was to please him.

as the toy continued teasing your clit, that familiar heat began to build again. you were teetering on the edge, your body straining, and then another wave of pleasure crashed over you, leaving your legs quaking as you surrendered to the bliss.

breathless, you barely registered the soft kisses he pressed along your neck, the warmth of his body grounding you. he took a moment to let you catch your breath, the tension in the air shifting to something more tender.

“you’re so good for me,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “you took it so well.” his lips met yours softly, a stark contrast to the intensity of what you’d done just moments before. you could still feel the aftershocks of your release buzzing beneath your skin.

“kento,” you breathed his name, your lips bitten red and cheeks flushed. “i want you now.”

“is that so?” he teased, pulling back slightly to lock eyes with you, his own need mirrored in your gaze. he slid between your legs, positioning himself at your entrance. “you sure you can take it?”

the moment he pressed into you, a gasp escaped your lips. the sensation of him filling you up was so addicting. you clenched around him, feeling him groan in response.

“take your time, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your forehead.

with a swift motion, he flipped you over, leaving you straddling him. he looked up at you with a soft smile. “go on,” he urged, gripping your hips.

you leaned forward, hands resting on his chest as you slid down, taking in every inch of his thickness. each inch had your breath hitching, sugary gasps escaping your lips as you felt him fit in you perfectly.

“god, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his hands guiding your movements, encouraging you to find your rhythm.

you began to rock your hips, relishing the way his body responded, every move eliciting a low, guttural sound from his throat. “that’s it, just like that."

you leaned back slightly, the angle hitting you in all the right places making your eyes flutter close.

his hands tightened on your hips, guiding you to move faster, deeper. “you’re doing so good,” he praised, and the way he watched you, completely entranced, only added to your pleasure.

“kento,” you moaned, the name spilling from your lips like a prayer, urging him on. your orgasm coiled within you, ready to snap.

“just a little longer,” he coaxed, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed soft kisses over your chest.

you felt your walls tightening, desperate for release. every caress of his cock against your walls brought you closer to your release.

“kentoo,” you whined as he shifted positions, laying you flat on the end of the bed. your walls tried to clung onto him, the desperate ache in your core begging him to take you completely. the heat pooling in your stomach was overwhelming.

“i know, sweet girl. just hold on a little longer,” he growled lowly.

he hovered just above your entrance, his tip teasingly grazing your soaked folds. you let out a shaky breath, pushing your hips forward, urging him to finally fill you.

“so needy,” he chuckled, his hands gripping your thighs, fingers digging in as he held you in place.

the weight of his thickness hovered at your core, taunting you. your breath hitched, a pleading whimper escaping your lips as you pressed your back into the bed.

his blonde locks fell forward, brushing against your skin as he pushed deeper, stretching you perfectly. “mmh, god, you feel incredible,” he breathed. your body welcomed him, slick and soft, drawing him in like a moth to a flame.

“good fuckin girl” he encouraged, his hips rocking slowly against yours.

“ah! yes,” you gasped, your voice quivering. “baby, p–pleasee… don’t stop.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, his voice hoarse with desire. he watched as your lips parted in a silent gasp, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as his cock nudged your g-spot so sinfully.

the sounds of your wet cunt swallowing him filled the room, echoing with every thrust. his cock turned a shade lighter, slick with your juices, each movement driving him deeper inside you.

“you’re so perfect for me,” he murmured, his gaze locked onto the way your body glistened with a sheen of sweat, glowing under the soft light.

his hands gripped your thighs tighter, urging you to take every inch of him. as he picked up the pace, you felt overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of him burying deep inside you.

“ken! it’s too much…” you gasped, the pleasure and pressure coiling tighter within you. “can’t—nghhh” tears streamed down your cheeks as you struggled to keep up with him, incoherent mumbles spilling from your lips.

“i know, baby, but you can handle it,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin as he kissed away the tears clinging to your lashes. “just let go for me.”

with a final, desperate thrust, your body gave in, pleasure hitting you like a storm. your vision blurred, breath hitching as the world around you faded, leaving nothing but the sensation of your release. your walls clenched tight, and you felt him groan, his cock throbbing as he followed right after, filling you with his warmth.

“so good, baby,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses along your jaw and forehead, his voice low and gentle as he cradled your trembling form. “you were incredible.”

his hands moved to push the hair out of your face, cupping your cheeks, his thumbs brushing your skin tenderly. “come back to me, sweetheart,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over your temple as he coaxed you down gently from the overwhelming high.

his gaze softened, a flicker of concern clouding his eyes as he watched your chest rise and fall, your breaths still shaky from the intensity. his thumb stroked your cheek, wiping away the remnants of your tears. “are you okay, darling? was it too much?” his voice was a gentle murmur.

you felt the warmth of his body pressed against yours as he continued planting soft kisses along your hairline, down to your jaw. his hands trailed soothingly up and down your sides, comforting you.

“talk to me, sweetheart,” he urged, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. “i need to know you're alright.”

you gave a small nod, still trying to find your voice, overwhelmed by the mix of sensations and emotions swirling inside. his lips curled into a soft smile, and he pecked your lips gently.

as he began to get off you, you instinctively grabbed his hand, your eyes pleading with him to stay. “please,” you murmured vulnerably. you didn’t want him to go just yet. you needed the closeness, the reassurance of his presence.

“i’ll be right back,” he promised, squeezing your hand before gently extricating himself. moments later, he returned with a warm towel, the soft fabric feeling comforting against your sweat slicked skin.

an. second kinktober fic.. i feel like this isn't my best work but i'm kinda very sleep deprieved so let's just pretend this was good :D more kinktober fics -> here! ⸝⸝ reblogs, likes & comments are appreciated

© SONARSPACE 2024 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

[bbydoll18xx]

Brats Get Punished

You choose to be a brat. Punishment ensues.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Themes: slight angst, smut (18+)

I got wine drunk and came up with this. This is pure filth. I'm so sorry

Today had fucking sucked. 

No. Scratch that. The whole week had fucking sucked.

You held back tears as you walked through uconn’s campus, heading back to your dorm. All you wanted was to be taken care of. This week had been wracked with a million assignments, frustrating exams, and  family drama you couldn’t escape, even all the way in Connecticut. The cherry on the top of the miserable sundae was your lack of Paige. With basketball season ramping up and finals nearing, you hadn’t seen your girlfriend in five whole days. 

It felt like five days without air.

The thought makes your heart ache once again, and you throw on your sunglasses to hide the redness of your swollen eyes.

The bitter northeastern cold of early December made you shiver as you shoved your hands deeper into your pockets.

It was finally friday. 

Tonight you could escape into the vastness of Paige’s blue eyes. You had no thoughts when you were with her, just habitual feelings of comfort and intimacy you couldn’t get from anyone else. 

You were looking forward to cocky smirks, long, talented fingers, and a mouth that had a power to shut you up in more ways than one.

Fuck.

The thought makes your bottom lip quiver. Usually, you had a little bit more of a general grip on things; you could handle your emotions perfectly fine, thank you very much. But the overwhelming shitiness makes you want to pout and whine until you get your way. You felt sorry for anyone dealing with your bratty ass tonight. Namely Paige, but you knew she could handle it.

Trudging up the stairs to your dorm and stomping into your room, you dramatically fling yourself onto your bed. You lay there momentarily before you hear a gentle knock on your door.

Groaning, you head to open it and find Paige standing there with an apprehensive look on her face. You barely have time to register why she would be anything but ecstatic to see you before launching yourself at her taller frame.

She stumbles back at the sudden force of your body but recovers quickly, wrapping her arms around your middle and bringing you into a tight hug.

You let out all the air and frustration that had been pent up over the last week as soon as you connect.

“Paigey,” you whine, “I missed you so fucking much.” Your hands roam her body, trying to cling to her in an effort to never let her go. 

“I missed you, too, baby…” she trails quietly. 

That was weird. Why wasn't she excited to see you? Paige was always characteristically exuberant around you, and she was excitement personified. This Paige was not your Paige, and your stomach rolled with worry.

“Geno is having us do an extra practice tonight,” she explains carefully.

Your heart drops into your ass. No wonder she seemed off.

As you realize that you would be spending yet another night alone, your eyes well up with thick, hot, and angry tears. You spin on your heels, retreating back into your room in defeat.

“C’mon, talk to me. It’s not like I want to be away from you. As soon as I’m done with practice, I’ll come right over. I’ll even pick up your favorite ice cream,” she tries to reason.

“W-want you now,” you stutter out. Your words start to slur together with frustration. “Don’t even care anymore; just go away.” 

Your venomous words don't dissuade the pang in your heart. Of course you didn’t want her to go. And of course you still cared. But you were feeling like a brat and you were a glutton for punishing yourself.

“Ya know, you might want to watch your attitude,” Paige grits out. Her jaw tenses in a way that makes you squeeze your thighs together. 

Then you remember you were supposed to be pissed. You roll your tear-filled eyes and cross your arms with a huff. This exasperates your blonde girlfriend even further. 

“Once you stop acting like a fucking brat, give me a call, and then I’d be happy to give you some attention. Stop punishing me for shit I can’t control.” Paige says with an impressive amount of restraint. She turns around to leave with one last disappointed glance in your direction.

In her harsh exit, you fall apart. 

Sitting in your dark room, cocooned in your sadness, guilt, and general horniness, you watch the hours slip by. 

8:00

9:00

10:00

Your eyes are tired with both sleep and grief by the time the clock turns to 11:00, but you can’t ignore the way you were pulsating with desire just thinking about Paige.

Your brain wrestles with either keeping up your facade of nonchalance and running to Paige, apologies spilling from your mouth with desperation. You were so damn stubborn, never wanting to back down, but you could barely think anymore. 

Your fingers dance around the hem of Paige’s soft t-shirt you had stolen. You fight with yourself internally before pulling it over your head with a groan. Your sweatpants quickly follow.

Dating Paige meant there was rarely a need for self-pleasure. Why would you when she was always at your beck and call?

Huffing at the sheer stupidity of the situation, you close your eyes and bring one hand to your left tit, rolling your nipple experimentally. It feels nice, but you needed more. 

You always needed more.

Your right hand trails down your stomach sensually, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and lands on the swollen nub that holds all the pleasure. Circling your clit, you try to coax out an orgasm. Your pussy was sopping after spending the evening thinking about Paige, but nothing was clicking for you. You let out a small whine of annoyance.

Your hand felt too small, too cold, too wrong. 

Nevertheless, you were fucking desperate. The unkindness of the past week had been even more cruel to your sex life. You hadn’t cum in what felt like forever. You needed this. 

Hesitantly, you enter a finger into your dripping hole. Again, it feels nice, but the angle is all too wrong. If Paige was here, you’d already be panting like a whore, begging for another finger and her tongue.

You pull out of yourself, sucking the wetness off your finger before throwing yourself back down onto the pillows. 

‘Fuck,’ you thought. It was time to surrender. You needed Paige.

Before you can overthink some more and chicken out, you feel your body pull itself out of your dorm all the way to Paige’s apartment. It's as if you have no control over your idiotic, lovestruck brain.

Paige was patient, and she was so in love with you, but you knew you’d be doing some serious groveling tonight. ‘And hopefully having some seriously good sex,’ you think slyly. 

Feeling bashful, you knock on her door. You knew she was out of practice now, and you were ready to give up your tortured whining in order to finally get what you needed. 

Paige opens the door, looking down at you with a knowing smirk. “Lemme guess, babe. You need me,” she purrs in a mocking tone that makes you want to jump her bones.

You want to protest, but you know it would be no use. She knew she held all of the power over you, and she was not going to let you walk away unscathed tonight.

“Baby, I‘m sorry,” you sigh, trying to appear as solemn as you could. “This week just got the best of me. It’s not your fault you had practice.” You really were sorry, but you were more concerned about fixing the dampness in your panties than you were about coming off as regretful about your past attitude.

Paige reaches out a hand to draw you in closer, pulling you into her familiar warmth. You could feel yourself melt into her, worries evaporating quickly. Her eyes softened at your apology, but you could still see a sadistic glint in them. 

You were so getting it tonight. You didn’t care as long as it ended with your back arching off Paige’s bed, her name leaving your lips continuously, like a prayer.

The hand that was resting on your hip trails up to rest loosely around your throat. Her thumb caresses your carotid pulse, which was pounding dangerously in her wake. She smirks at your blatant anticipation before leaning down to suck right at her favorite little spot just under your ear.

You moan lasciviously, almost causing you to miss the words she whispers next.

“Get your ass on my bed. You know what position I want you in.”

Your face heats up, and your stomach lurches. You knew you were getting the dominant version of your girlfriend tonight, but to this extent? This side of her rarely came out. You swallow thickly as you grasp the consequences of just how far you had taken things earlier.

As much as Paige’s dominant side made you feel timid, your desire to get thrown around and fucked out took over.

“Now, you little slut,” she all but growls, as you hesitate, your thoughts and apprehension momentarily stilling you. The degradation of her words ignites a flame in the pit of your belly once more, and you fall headfirst into subspace. 

You stumble into her bedroom, throwing your sweatshirt over your head haphazardly and shimmying out of your pants. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your nearly naked figure in her full-length mirror, taking a second to admire the swell of your ass and the heaving of your chest. 

Leaving you in nothing but a plain black thong, you kneel on Paige’s bed, your ass resting on your heels in a display of submission that had you wanting to be good, so good, for your blonde girlfriend. 

Paige leaves you waiting for a few minutes, making you squirm anxiously. You didn’t know what to expect with her tonight. The last time you acted this childishly, you weren’t allowed to cum. ‘Bratty whores don’t get to cum,’ you recalled her whispering in your ear mercilessly. 

‘If that was the case tonight, I might just die,’ you think as you desperately shift your thighs in an attempt to feel an ounce of pleasure.

Soon enough, Paige strolls in looking smug at your visible distress.

“My poor baby,” she pouts derisively, eliciting a whine from your mouth at the mention of you being her baby. “Why don’t you tell me why you decided to come apologize tonight. I know it wasn’t just because you were feeling guilty.” She looks up and down at you expectantly, waiting for a bullshit excuse she knew she was getting.

You realize that lying would get you absolutely nowhere with her tonight, and you decide to be honest. “Need you,” you mumble, you face feeling hot once more. “Tried touching myself. Didn’t feel as good as you…” you trail off. 

Paige’s face lights up at this admission, and she grins sinfully. “Get on your back and show me how you tried to touch yourself,” she softly demands. She had tried to get you to masturbate in front of her before, but you had always been too embarrassed to do so. It felt so ridiculously private, and the thought of her seeing your failed attempts to get off without her made you want to hide under the blankets. 

“C’mon, baby girl,” she coaxes. “If you want me to touch you, you gotta touch yourself first.” 

You stare at her, jutting out your bottom lip in protest before sighing in defeat. You adjust yourself against her pillows at the top of the bed and spread your legs teasingly. 

‘Might as well make a show of it if I have to do this,’ you think, trying to find a way to feel more comfortable with the sheer act of perversion.

Paige settles in on the edge of the bed. She had the perfect view of your soaked pussy, still hidden beneath your black thong, and of your peaked nipples, begging to be licked and bitten. You run your hands up and down your body a few times, just as you had earlier in your bedroom, trying to put on a performance to appease your girlfriend. You needed her to be in the best possible mood.

After spending a few moments tending to your tits, squeezing them with an appropriate amount of vigor, you take off your panties and throw them to Paige. She catches them, and upon seeing how soaked they were, says, “this is turning you on, isn’t it? You like having to touch yourself in front of me. Such a naughty, little slut."

You bite your lip, but nod reluctantly. This was fucking embarrassing, but it turned you on, and you hated having to admit that to her. 

“Knew it,” she responded arrogantly. “Keep going.” 

You dip a finger into your folds and swirl the wetness around your weeping hole before bringing it back up to your needy and swollen clit. A few circles around it and you’re already letting out puffs of air. Just the sight of Paige in front of you has you panting. 

You sneak a glance at Paige, seeing her enthralled by your performance. The idea of being able to please her makes you want to keep going, but you hoped you wouldn’t have to be responsible for your own orgasms tonight. Your pussy belonged to her.

“Please, P,” you moan. “I need you. My fingers aren’t enough.” 

She pretends to think about it before shaking her head with a stupid grin on her face. She was getting way too much enjoyment out of this. You let out a huff in annoyance before entering two of your slim fingers into your pussy and thrusting harshly upwards towards your g-spot. 

You knew you’d never really had any luck getting off this way. The angle was too weird, and your fingers were too small to really get you anywhere. The only g-spot you could reach was Paige’s, and you whimper at the lack of pleasure you were getting. 

Feeling incredibly frustrated, you make eye contact with the blonde, and plead with her to do something, anything, to get you closer to the finish line.

“Want some help?” Paige asks smugly. You desperately nod. “Beg,” she says shortly. 

Fuck. You had told yourself you wouldn’t beg tonight. But you were feeling hopeless, so if she wanted you to beg, you would. 

“Please, please, please, Paigey, I'll do anything for you, just touch me,” you moan brokenly. “Just need you, only you, don’t want anyone else, please, baby, please,” you let out, words overlapping each other with a vicious need to prove to her that you needed her with your whole being. 

It must’ve done the trick because before you can even register what is happening, she's on top of you, fervently kissing you and groping your tits. You preen at the attention, finally getting what you’ve wanted and needed all week, and kiss her back. You welcome the taste of her tongue in your mouth, getting drunk on the way she alternates between kissing your lips and your neck.

As she trails her kisses down your neck to your chest, you watch her lips close over a nipple, sucking it in gently before biting down, causing a gasp to leave your now swollen lips. Paige grins wickedly at your reaction, but she continues her descent towards your drenched pussy.

You buck your hips to try and meet her mouth, but she presses them back down with strong hands and avoids the area altogether. She presses hot, open mouth kisses onto your inner thighs, making you squirm even more.

Her touch, or lack thereof, made you want to cry. You needed more stimulation or you might just die.

Paige studies your wetness for a moment before meeting your eyes. She has a mischievous glint in her eye that makes your belly turn in anticipation. 

“I’ll eat you out, baby,” she simpers, “but you still need to be punished.”

You wrinkle your brow in confusion. This wasn’t punishment?

“What’d you mean?” you ask reluctantly.

Paige sits up and pats her lap. “Get your ass over on my lap. Since you decided to act like a brat earlier, I’m going to punish you like one.”

Your heart pounds once more at the realization you were about to be spanked by your girlfriend. So much for thinking you were getting let off easy tonight. 

You drape yourself across Paige’s lap, suddenly feeling extra grateful for the apartment’s emptiness tonight. It was rare that you and Paige got time to yourselves, and the idea of anyone hearing you being subjected to this was enough to make you want to hide forever.

The first smack comes quicker than you were expecting and reverberates through the small room. If it wasn’t for Paige anchoring you to her, you would’ve flown off in shock. The sharpness of the swat forces blood into your cheeks.

You internally curse yourself for how much you enjoy it. Three slaps follow in quick succession, and before you know it, you’re even more of a moaning mess in Paige’s lap. You have to force yourself to stop from grinding your hips in an effort to chase some pleasure to accompany the delicious pain of your punishment. 

Paige rubs a few circles on your ass, admiring the gorgeous pinkness that blooms under her hand. 

“Fuck, you little slut,” she murmurs. “Of course you’re enjoying this shit.”

You shake your head in protest, but to no avail. You knew she could see right through your bullshit, and she rolled her eyes fondly. “I think I’ve put my girl through enough. Are you ready to be a good girl for me?” she questions. 

“I’ll be so good. Promise,” you moan into her neck, causing her to let out a giggle.

Paige lays you onto your back once more and finally brings her mouth down to your sex. She dives in, circling your clit with her hot, wet tongue, and immediately adds two long fingers into your dripping hole with no warning. You arch off the bed wantonly, relishing in the pleasure you had been chasing for days. 

She spreads your legs apart even further, attempting to get even deeper into you. For both of you, it would never be enough. The sheer amount of desire you felt for the woman between your thighs swelled in the moment, and you feel yourself inch closer to the edge. You teeter at the brink, reveling in the throes of pleasure and passion. 

You’re babbling now-straight bullshit leaving your lips, mixing apologies and pleading for Paige to let you cum.

Paige is now full on assaulting your pussy. Three lengthy digits pushing at your g-spot at a punishing pace and sucking your clit like it was a fucking lollipop. 

Moans, groans, and slick noises fill the room. It was pure depravity, and you were both loving every second of it. In a final plea to let you cum, Paige concedes smugly. She knew she had turned your bratty ass into a whimpering mess, and she was going to relish in you coming undone in front of her. 

As soon as you get the green light, you all but scream, feeling as if everything is snapping into place all at once. Your chest heaves and your thighs try to close around Paige’s head, feeling suddenly overstimulated. Pushing them back out, Paige forces you to ride out the orgasm fully. 

“Fuck,” you groan. That was the hardest you’d cum in a while, due to the absolute buildup of it all.

Licking her lips seductively, Paige meets you in a searing kiss that makes you melt back into her soft bedding once more. Paige was always so gentle with you after being particularly dominant. 

“Gonna go get a rag. Don’t move. Gonna take good care of my sweet girl. So good for me tonight,” she praises. 

Too fucked out to protest, you lay back, allowing her to pamper you. Your eyes felt as heavy as rocks, and you struggled to stay awake.

“I really am sorry,” you mumble sleepily into her neck. “Didn't want to make you mad. Just needed you.”

“I know, baby,” Paige replies tenderly. “Not sure if the spanking was an actual punishment, though.”

You giggle at her admission. It really wasn’t. 

In fact, you were already scheming ways to get another spanking. 

‘Once a brat, always a brat.’ 

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

doctor who but i've never watched it

and so it begins again. the people asked for it. the people got it. i will ensure the people regret it.

i have never watched this show, or seen an edit, but i am a thorough researcher and i feel that i've got the essence of it.

this is what i have gathered. academicians worldwide take note.

Firstly, so I don't anger anyone, I accept and acknowledge that the tardis is blue and not yellow. My misinformation was from a Drarry fanfiction, and I had hitherto regarded Drarry fanfiction as the absolute truth.

There are doctors, and there are at least fifteen of them. At least two of them are David Tennant, which I can respect.

I'm not sure why the doctors are doctors, because I can find no trace of any medical procedure except for one doctor who licks things, which he learned from the previous doctor. If this is sufficient reason, I apologise for doubting their credentials.

On the other hand, if they are doctors thanks to a postdoctoral degree, this is also fine, though I have never seen anyone study anything. There is however a doctor, and there were people upset about her, but the fandom pointed out she set the tardis on fire, which is apparently a very doctor thing to do. Setting things on fire is absolutely something any research scholar would love, so again, apologies for doubting their credentials.

At least one doctor is gay. It is probably one of the David doctors, which checks out. He says someone, I think a dentist, is hot. I envy the maybe-dentist.

A t least one doctor is trans. I was unable to find them. But they exist. Oh yes, the fandom assures me they exist.

David Tennant as well as Ncuti Gatwa were fanboys, first of the show, and second of David Tennant, and thus they got into acting. Just a fun tidbit from me, since I am now the authority on this fandom.

There are time machines with which the doctors have sex by piloting them, which is questionable because the time machines are only partially sentient. I am not sure if the time machines are the tardis. But the tardis is blue, and not yellow, of that I am certain.

There was a stage play. Or maybe that was a metaphor for the production budget of the early seasons. I am not sure, but toddler David Tennant watched it. I assume no one took a 3 year old to a stage play, so through scientific deduction, it must have been a metaphor.

At some point, Death is an agony aunt and they have to spill secrets to it, or drown in a lake of human skulls. Who is this they? It's so obvious that the fandom sees no need to explain it, and neither do I. I do know it though. Of that you may remain certain.

A David doctor has a niece and she likes being his niece.

A David doctor has a best friend named Donna. He kisses her head. She supports his fruitiness. It is wholesome. It killed him when he lost her.

Slight tangent, but younger David doctor looks like Andrew Garfield. Current David in photos does give Ben Barnes energy. Any Wolfstar shippers, I believe you've found the Wolfstar kid. It is David Tennant.

A lot of people are David Tennant. A reliable Pinterest post on Doctor Who, clearly well researched, gave me the statistic that 15% of Doctor Who is David Tennant. From the amount of David Tennant that I ran across in my research, I don't understand it but I don't doubt it, either.

Speaking of Andrew Garfield, he in involved in this somehow. I am not sure how, but you cannot escape Andrew Garfield. He is even a part of fandoms he never acted in.

There is an individual named Catherine, I think she is the actress, but she could be a character. She seems to have much less knowledge about Doctor Who lore than I do. David Tennant finds it funny. Maybe he would find me funny, too.

The doctors installed some things in the tardis, from a wheelchair ramp to a jukebox. I don't know why a jukebox was needed. If I'm honest I don't know what a jukebox is. I don't know what the tardis is. But it is blue, and not yellow.

There is a French catchphrase.

Something happens in Wales. I don't know what it is, but something always seems to be happening in Wales in these fandoms, so I don't doubt it.

There is an old Doctor Who in a wheelchair, and he is happy to see a David doctor.

They go around in space, and do things. Who is this they? You and I both know the answer, so we needn't talk about it.

The show intro is "doo wee doo".

There is an alien who is not a mouse, the alien is The Meep, and uses the definite article as pronouns. David doctor is supportive of this, which is very good.

I found baby Yoda in the show, but apparently they call it a 'goblin' there, and someone doesn't like it.

There is a lot to do with time. There is a time hole, and things happen, and people die and are resurrected. There is danger, but it is fun.

They have CGI, and it is not good, which is the best thing about it. Who is they? Please stop asking me. It is rather obvious and something I definitely know.

Someone's boyfriend dies and the boyfriend is then resurrected but then gets lost with his boyfriend but then is reincarnated as a girl who would still call herself the someone's boyfriend but then she is replaced by the boyfriend but he's different now. I apologise for any errors that have crept it, but the tardis is blue and not yellow.

Someone named Martha is a doctor, and someone is very proud of her for it.

The eleventh and twelfth doctors like bow ties.

David Tennant wants to be ginger. David Tennant always gets what he wants. Who can refuse David Tennant? David Tennant is then ginger.

A David doctor gets a happy ending.

Someone yelled at Neil Gaiman about this. It was a mistake. He said that since it had already been done, he wouldn't want to give David's character a happy ending in S3, that would be a trifle unoriginal.

A lesson to be learned, Good Omens fandom, just a bit of advice from your son, do not yell at Neil Gaiman, it does not go well. Rumour has it he murdered the people who complained about him always wearing black. Of course, there is the fact that he doesn't exist, but that doesn't seem to have stopped him.

The doctors manifest in the previous doctor's clothes, which is apparently so last season. The tardis also manifests. I don't know where, or how. But it is blue, and not yellow.

I know, there was a lot of lore, so many of you thought I wouldn't be able to gather it all. But look how much research I did! I've got it better than maybe-actress-maybe-character Catherine, I'm sure :"]

Anyway, all the major plot points are covered above, so anyone who hasn't watched Doctor Who, feel free to refer to this and impress your Whovian friends with your knowledge! [not to be judgemental, but what a dreadfully Dr Seuss name, I rather like it]

[igorluvr]

Can you do some with nam gyu?

‘ HERE WITH ME

PAIRING: nam-gyu x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: when you enter the Squid Games, you encounter a particular group of people, and to your surprise, one of them takes a special liking to you.

CONTENT: heavyyyy fluff, he’s a big softie for u, reader replaces gyeong su oops, love at first sight aww, shy!reader, both fall in love too fast

AUTHORS NOTE: first fic !! i didn’t know what to write abt so i came up with my own plot i hope u enjoyyy !!

word count: [1k]

AFTER the first game, you lost all motivation to keep going. Hours felt like days, eating felt like a chore, and you felt horrible for leaving your little sister alone in the world. You told her it would be just a couple days, that “big sis would be back soon,” but now you knew that you might never reunite—at least not in this lifetime.

Everything felt disgusting. You ran to the bathroom and cried for what felt like hours, feeling like vomiting as you scrubbed the blood and guts off your skin, washing so hard you swore some of the blood was yours. The walk back to your room felt like a death sentence as the smell of bodies grew stronger.

Sitting on your bed, you stared into space, trying to distract your mind from all the carnage. It felt as if the world outside was dead silent, with nothing happening beyond your little bubble. Hunger stabbed at your stomach as everyone else lay asleep. Using the dark, quiet room as an escape, you imagined floating in space, where nothing could hurt you, finally alone with your thoughts and soul.

That peace was abruptly shattered when the lights suddenly blared on, like a siren reminding you of where you were. “Damn,” you thought, “I stayed up the whole night?” The pink-suited guards lined everyone up and loaded them into the colorful hallway, leading to the next game. You weren’t sure if it was due to hunger, lack of sleep, or pure terror, but you felt weak as you walked up the steps, each stomp taking a toll on your body.

You heard from the previous winner that you would be playing dalgona, but when you entered the next room, you were met with two circular rainbows and six lanes. The announcer instructed everyone to form groups of five. Even though you hadn't played many games as a child, it was common sense to know dalgona was not a team game. Had the man lied? Was this really it? You glanced at him, noticing a look of dismay on his face. Maybe he didn’t know either.

As the timer began, everyone formed their groups, leaving you standing alone. The minutes ticked by, and your nervousness grew. You knew waiting for someone to pick you was wrong, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak up. Meeting new people had always been tough, and the pressure was tenfold now.

Just as you accepted your fate, a group of four approached you: a tall man with purple hair, a pretty boy with dark, long hair, a girl covered in piercings, and a boy who resembled a baby deer. The man with purple hair introduced himself as Thanos, but you zoned out, fixated on his friend. He stared deeply into your eyes as he fiddled with his rings. You tried to avoid eye contact, but every time you looked up, he was already watching you.

“Um, hellooooo? You deaf or somethin?” Thanos quipped. You snapped back to reality as he explained he wanted you on his team. You nodded, mainly out of necessity, but agreeing nonetheless.

The teams sat in neat rows, preparing for the games ahead. You overheard conversations about who would play which game, but your new team was strangely silent. Thanos and his friend chatted about a necklace, while the other two focused on the competitors. Your nerves ramped up, and you fidgeted with the sleeves of your jacket. The longer-haired boy suddenly tapped your shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?” he murmured. Usually, you would’ve said you were okay, but in this situation, what was the point of lying? You shook your head, and concern washed over his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly. All you could do was shrug. Suddenly, he took your hands and kissed them gently. The warmth spread across your face, leaving you feeling flushed and exposed. Did he know how his words affected you? Were you developing feelings in a place like this?

“It’s all gonna be okay, darling, I promise,” he reassured you. Just then, the girl beside you, Se-mi, interrupted.

“Hey, how about instead of drooling over her, we figure out our games?” she scoffed. You watched as Nam-gyu shot her a venomous glare, transforming his expression entirely.

“Nobody was talking to you, bitch,” he spat, his sudden coldness making your mind whirl. Why was he hostile with her yet soft with you?

As if nothing had happened, he turned back to you. “Which game are you best at, sweetheart?” You barely whispered your answer: “Um... gong-gi, I think.” He immediately understood, and soon after, your team’s games were decided.

Se-mi would play ddakji first, Min-su would follow with flying stone, you’d go next with gong-gi, Nam-gyu would play spinning top, and Thanos would go last with jegi.

When your team was called, fear washed over you. As your knees weakened, you felt Nam-gyu squeeze your shoulder. “Don’t worry, baby, you’re gonna do great.” His words bolstered your confidence more than you could admit.

Each game passed swiftly, and your team finished with eight seconds to spare. As you crossed the finish line, Nam-gyu launched himself at you, wrapping his arms around your waist, making you bounce with excitement. You were enveloped in his scent, overpowering the stench of blood around you. The touch of his hands melted away your worries, and for a moment, you felt truly safe.

As you walked back to the rooms, a smile formed on your lips. Was he genuinely interested in you?

When you settled into bed, a few moments of silence were interrupted by the sound of the bed creaking beside you.

"You did sooo good in gong-gi. Your hands were literally moving like a ninja" he praised, beaming with admiration. You giggled, "It was nothing, really."

He crawled closer, intertwining his fingers with yours, you loved this habit he’d picked up. “I’m so proud of you. You looked nervous, but you pushed through and helped us win,” Nam-gyu chuckled. You responded with nothing but a shy smile; words didn’t feel like enough. You turned your face the other way so he wouldn't see how much his words affected you

“Don’t hide your pretty face, you’re cute when you smile,” he said, fingers lifting your chin to meet his gaze. The compliment made you smile brightly.

“There she is—there’s my girl,” he added, inching closer until he was almost spooning you. You melted against him, relieved to have someone to stay beside in this chaos. As time passed, nothing else mattered. It was unlike how time slowed before, this time it was a comfortable passing. His hand played with your hair, scratching your scalp in a soothing rhythm. 

“Do you remember how focused you were playing gong-gi the first time?” he asked, his voice low and playful. “You were a disaster, but it was the most adorable disaster I’ve ever seen.”

You chuckled softly, warmth pooling in your chest and comfortability blooming. “You were just as bad, you dropped the spinning top across the floor”

“Well, I had to make sure you didn't feel alone in your clumsiness,” he teased, his breath tickling your ear. The closeness felt intoxicating, and you turned your head slightly to catch a glimpse of him. 

“You’d better not mess up like that again. You’re the only person here I actually like” you said, nudging him with your shoulder.

His gaze softened for a bit, like he was admiring you, then quickly flashed back. “Only if you promise to stay by my side forever,” he replied, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Always,” you whispered, feeling an undeniable connection grow between you.

As the laughter settled, the world around you faded into the background, like you were in your own little bubble. He leaned in closer, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead that sent a shiver down your spine.

“When we get out, I’m gonna take you to my club so we can have a proper party together, get you out of that shell” he suggested, a grin spreading across his face. “Yea?”

“Only if you let me have all the shirley temples I want” you countered, smiling against him playfully.

“Fine,” he mock-groaned, “but we have to do at least one round of shots after”

The playful banter made your heart swell, and you cuddled into his side, feeling a fuzzy warmth. You could see a future painted vividly in your mind—one filled with laughter, love, and lots of fun dates.

Soon, you both fell asleep in each other’s arms, wrapped in a sense of warmth and possibility. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, hope flickered in your heart, igniting the feeling that maybe, against all odds, you could find light in this dark world together. In that moment, everything felt right, and you couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be anywhere else but here—with him.

[helluvapoison]

Save Me

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

warning: violence n blood but happy ending

“Summon your blue blood master, whore.”

The demon carelessly drops your phone into the cage and it lands at your knees. You don’t remember if this was a ransom or a hit on your beloved. You can’t bring yourself to care because you know the minute he sees you in this state, none of it will matter.

Your tongue darted out and swiped over your cracked lips, gathering the copper taste of your own blood. The chuckle that you let out is dry, cut short by a cough that worsens the state of your throat. It highlighted the bruises littering your skin, especially those you couldn’t see.

He would.

“This is gonna end real badly f’you.” You tell the demon hoarsely, offering them the biggest, meanest smile you could muster.

Your thumb hits the call button without hesitation.

You hadn’t even uttered a single word.

Immediately the energy in the warehouse shifts. An undeniable chill crept in suddenly and seemed to chase off any light the windows provided. Someone may as well have thrown a blanket over the building. If not for your phone providing a faint glow, you wouldn’t have been able to see your labored breaths leaving your lips. Simultaneously, the shitty bones of the warehouse trembled, quietly at first then ramping up to a deafening sound that surely meant it would collapse at any moment. It wouldn’t. Not while you were there. Even if it was only your body for him to collect, no damage would come unto you by his doing.

The demon’s eyes narrow in suspicion, like whatever was happening was your fault and yours alone. Your crooked smile widens into a malicious forewarning for what’s to come. The grin pulls and tears the cut on your lip that had only just stitched itself together, stinging you in retaliation. You’re certain the light illuminating you from below, combined with the blood, has you looking positively mad.

“Told you.”

Lucifer was more than a king; he was the judge, jury and executioner for his subjects. It wasn’t often they forgot it but should they do something drastic, such as stealing his beloved, then he would make an example out of as many souls necessary. You knew this and you knew it well— you’ve been around every century or so when the newer sinners needed a refresher. This just so happened to be your first time being directly involved in why.

It must be then that the harrowing realization finally sets in. They’ve bit off more than they could swallow and now it was going to choke the life out of them. Or, more accurately, he would.

Apparently determined to get in what would surely be their final reprisal, they reached into the cage and yanked you forward by your neck. Your forehead quickly meets an icy bar, sending pain ringing through your skull in greeting. Trapped, a mangled cry rips through the room that you don’t recognize is your own. You writhe in the demon’s grip, struggling to claw at their wrists and face. Tearing at their skin, trying to make them even in wounds more than you’re trying to escape, you manage a particularly good swipe at their eyes that makes them reel back. In their stubbornness, they refuse to release you and your face is squished against the cage as they stumble and crash.

No, you realize. They were flung clear across the room like an unwanted doll, landing in, what was now, a pile of wood. Familiar eyes of ruby and gold steal your attention from the groaning demon. You blink furiously, forcing your vision to tell you true. Of course you knew he would come for you, that was never in question, but whether you would be alive or not for that rescue did cross your mind. Your body had already begun to relax, melting with the comforting warmth of your beloved’s presence. Lucifer’s gasp is rigid, his voice trembling in disbelief and rising fury but he manages a soft tone just for your sake.

“Oh, angel. My sweet, sweet dove. I’m here now, I’m here. I’m so sorry.”

Metal creaks under his palms but it takes less effort than opening a jar of marmalade. He’s obscenely gentle while plucking you out of the cage, acutely aware of the way your breath hitches at his touch. Those aforementioned bruises pulse with vigor, spreading a dull ache all over your body. Just as you suspected, Lucifer's eyes roamed all over counting each and every one. He’ll return the favor tenfold.

One minute Lucifer’s holding onto a fraying thread of mercy, studying your precious face and stealing the apple of your cheek. The next he feels tears slide under the pad of his thumb, swiping them into nothingness like he wished he could do your pain. Your relief is palpable in them, he can taste it on his tongue with hints of your fading fear. His golden pupils get smaller and smaller until they’re consumed entirely by red.

Logically he knows you’re right there in his arms but your weight isn’t grounding enough for him. He can’t see you anymore. All he can see is the ugly blotches that some pitiful excuse for future kindling dared to taint you with. Clearly they knew who you were and how important you were to the King of Hell, so the consequences of taking and hurting you had been glossed over but accepted nonetheless. An act against you is no less treasonous than an act against Lucifer himself; to spit at your feet would be to do the same to him.

“You’ve got guts to pull off a stunt like that, huh?” A terrifying grin cracks unevenly across his face and is shot over his shoulder at the demon that was struggling to pick themselves up. “Let’s see ‘em.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and shield your face from a gust of wind. Upon opening them you realize you’re sitting on the ground alone. Lucifer unfurled his wings and launched himself over to the demon. They made it to their feet only to be launched into the wall and leaving a them-sized crater behind. Horrified and paralyzed you could only watch as Lucifer hovered over them, cocking back both fists and hurling them forward one at a time.

“I think there was one there, there— oh can’t forget here!”

Even while knowing what was to come, it still made your stomach lurch to see it firsthand. Teeth clattered to the ground in one punch, another and the demon’s eye was swollen shut. You were positive what Lucifer blocked with his body, the savagery you couldn’t see, was much worse. It shouldn’t bother you, not with how long you’ve lived down here but having blood on your hands, no matter how indirectly, made your stomach lurch.

“Luci—“ You croaked, your throat closing in on itself when you tried to speak. It was as if your body had sided with your beloved’s vengeance.

However the tiny sound managed to put a stutter in Lucifer’s next blow, his knuckles halting just before the demon’s face. A frustrated snarl rips from him and cracks through the silence like thunder, but the storm in him quiets before he turns to you. Wracked by guilt more than rage, your beloved can’t fully face you.

You try again, “Can we—“ only to be cut off by a cough.

“Stop—stopstopstop,” Lucifer whispers, voice getting closer, louder, “I’m here, I’m here. Don’t… don’t hurt yourself.”

True to his word, he’s right there. All it took was a blink and he’s kneeling before you, hovering his hands all over as if he’s not sure where to touch you. How can he comfort you when you’re bruised all over? You force yourself to continue, knowing he’ll keep his focus with you if you do.

“Jus’ wanna go home.”

Lucifer’s demonic features flare, hesitation on the tip of his tongue. Unfinished business never seemed like an issue before. With the bewildered look he gave you, you may as well have asked him to throw out his entire duck collection. The thought of using your voice again made your throat itch so you beseech him with your eyes, pinching your brows together and turning them up.

Scrunching his face once more he sighed heavily, seemingly defeated as his horns shrunk back into his skull and his tail retreated. Then your Lucifer returned to you at last, smiling softly, though guilt and regret swam in his crimson eyes.

“Home it is. Agh, I hate when you use your secret weapon against me. It’s not fair, I mean, how am I supposed to resist this face?”

You try to keep your own smile from spreading too far, opting instead to squeeze the man close to you to share in your joy. Lucifer was starving to do the same, holding you as close as he could without stressing your wounds. You could feel him inhale against your neck like you were air to him, filling him with relief and the ability to carry on.

When he pulled away you grew worried, especially when his smile dropped and he turned ever so slightly to the bloodied and battered demon.

“Congratulations, peasant, you’ve been pardoned. Courtesy of the King of Hell and his angel— who you will never ever even think of again. Right?” There was a pained groan from the demon that sent a dark chuckle bubbling up from Lucifer’s chest, “I thought you might agree. Do me a favor and spread the word? I’d rather not do this again. You know what I mean?”

There was a sharp edge to his grin for a moment too long but it faded by the time he eagerly returned his attention to you. The portal below whirred to life with a faint hum and sent pulses of warmth up into the air. You were completely and utterly wrapped up in your beloved that you hardly noticed. Lucifer mumbled into your hair how he would kiss your “boo-boos”, get you bandaged up and in pajamas in no time.

Hearing that, it was a liiittle hard to believe he was the same man that was seconds away from slaughtering someone for you.

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ thanks for voting everyone!

[natalievoncatte]

“She’s dying.”

Cait looked up from the spread of paperwork on her desk -no one told her that seizing sold command of the city as a military dictator would involve so much paperwork- and found Loris standing in her doorway.

“I was under the impression that you’d handed in your badge and left the force.”

“She’s dying.”

Cait said nothing, scratching at one of the papers with a pen, signing off on something that most certainly did not require her attention.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

She looked away, but still he dared throw a broad shadow across the room, across her.

“Yes, you do.”

Cait let out a low, rasping sigh, a deep gurgle of frustration in the back of her throat. Her fingers dug into her desk and she itched to hold a gunstock in her hands. She was tired of these problems, she was tired of challenges she couldn’t just shoot, like Ambessa ramping up the pressure to lead a full-strength incursion into the Undercity to clear the Lanes. Rooting out the chem barons hadn’t been ending, it turned out, as they were almost a stabilizing influence and… and she had seen artwork of Jinx, the people of the Lanes seeing her as some kind of folk hero.

“She disobeyed my orders and abandoned our mission. Because of her, Jinx escaped. Trusting her was a mistake.”

“Not how she told it.”

Exasperated, Cait spun, ready to order him to leave lest he end up in Stillwater himself, but then she froze. Is that how she handled her problems now, by locking then up in dungeons without a trial?

How had it come to this? She finally had the authority she craved in her hands and yet it seemed every move she made worsened the very problems she’d dedicated her life to solving. She had almost died to show the city what the Enforcers could be, had pleaded with the Council to show the Undercity grace, to recognize what their people and their government had done to their neighbors… and now she was the Council, and how would she now receive those same pleas she’d once made?

Loris regards her coolly. The big man held his cards close to the vest, didn’t show emotion, but during their strike raids he’d taken on a protective role over all of them, the oldest member of the team. She wouldn’t go so far as to say he was a mentor, or even a friend, he was her subordinate, but she did respect him.

“She’s been making her way fighting in the pits. She fights all day and drinks all night, barely eats, barely sleeps. By the time I left I don’t think she’d eaten I three days and she lost two straight bouts to jobbers. It’ll kill her soon enough, the bottle or an opponent with something to prove or just some random thug with a knife. Is that what you want?”

Cait kept her face schooled, her posture prim. How dare he speak to her so frankly?

The trembling in her legs, she couldn’t fight, nor the impulse to worry her lip with her teeth. She suddenly felt five years old again, confessing some petty transgression to her mother. What would her mother think of what she’d done?

“What are you suggesting.”

“We bring her home. Go in, get her, get out through the vents. Quick and quiet, no uniforms. Just us.”

Cait hesitated. This could be a trap- some wannabe ruler of the Lanes might have put him up to this to lure her into the Undercity to be dealt with directly. No, she wasn’t that much of a fool.

Her jaw twisted. Good gods she’d have someone tasting her food next. What was she turning into?

“We need someone else to watch our backs. Maddie.”

Loris nodded. “Sooner we go, the better.”

“I’ll ready myself now.”

“You’ll need a disguise.”

“I have one.”

Cait hadn’t worn these clothes since the night she lay on her bed, sharing secrets with Vi, trading gentle touches. If she had to pinpoint a moment that she’d fallen in love with Violet it was the gentle way she took Cait’s hand and pressed it to her cheek, such adoration in her eyes.

What had she done?

The three of them stole into the Undercity the same way they had as a team- the ventilation shafts. Loris knew the way.

As they worked their way through the always and twisting warrens of Zaun, Cait could only think of the first time she’d come here- scared and trying to put on a brave face as she rushed after the brash, confident brick wall of a woman she’d followed here, desperately hoping that her sudden conviction that it was a terrible idea was wrong.

It actually turned out worse than a terrible idea. She’d almost been blown up, had been kidnapped, almost murdered by Silco’s men if not for Vi punching out an entire tower structure.

It had been the best idea she’d ever had.

“We’re here,” said Loris.

“It looks like they dump bodies here,” said Maddie, looking up at the tenement.

“Shut up,” Cait snapped, remembering something similar she’d said once, not knowing the reverent meaning the place held for Vi.

Loris looked up at one of the windows.

“We’d best hope she’s here. If she’s not we’re going to have trouble.”

“Lead the way.”

Cait kept her head down and her hood up -they’d all be killed if she were recognized- as the trio made their way up. Vi was living in a flop house. All around were Shimmer addicts. Cait felt her gut seize as she saw them trembling, pale and sweaty and rubbing at sores.

She had taken away the chemical that kept the worst of it at bay for them, but then what had she done? Just smashing the chem barons didn’t reverse the harm they’d caused. The addicted were still here.

When they reached Vi’s room, Loris knocked and the door swung open, unbarred.

At first, Cait thought this a mistake, or that Vi had moved on, but then she realized the broken form lying on the narrow, sweat-stained bed was Vi.

She’d lost weight, and was pale as a sheet except for the profusion of bruises and scrapes that covered her back and arms. There were bottles and broken glass strewn about everywhere and the wall mirror was shattered, as if from a punch.

Cait, forgetting herself, rushed to Vi’s side and knelt by the bed.

“Vi? Vi? Vi, wake up.”

Glassy eyed, Vi didn’t seem to see her.

Swallowing hard, Cait probed, quickly checking her over for injuries.

She had a broken rib at the very least. Fuck!

“Vi?”

“Cupcake?” Vi murmured. “Are you real?”

“Cupcake?” Maddie broke in. “Is she hungry?”

“Shut up,” Cait hissed. “We have to go, we’ve been here too long already.”

“Let’s get her to the vents and back topside,” said Loris.

“Help me carry her,” said Cait.

“I’ve got her,” the big man said.

Something in Cait crumbled when she saw how easily he lifted Vi from the bed. Cait pulled her hood low and they swaddled Vi in what they could find, scrambling to avoid notice. Cait’s heart pounded with every step and she was sure they’d be spotted and mobbed and Zaun would be parading the body of the Commander of Piltover around the streets by morning.

Somehow, they made it. As the approached the bridge crossing, Cait her the sounds of rifles racking and threw back her hood.

“Get out of my way,” she snarled.

Her Enforcers obliged.

“Where are we taking her?” said Loris.

“Home.”

As soon as she was able, she arranged for transport and Loris lowered Vi onto a stretcher. It might have been better to conduct her to a hospital, but Cait would have none of that.

She took Vi home, had her men lay Vi in her bed, then harshly ordered them out.

“Thank you,” she said to Loris and Maddie.

The former nodded curtly and left. Maddie lingered for a moment, her eyes searching the room before she slipped out as Cait asked her to find her father.

Tobias appeared. Maddie did not join him, for which she was grateful.

Cait said nothing and her father kept his own council just as readily. They hadn’t been speaking much, the heartfelt talks and reminisces drying up as Cait threw herself into her work. She could sense her father’s distaste but above all else, he was a doctor. Cait waited as he made his examination.

Finally he said, “her torso will need binding for the broken rib, and those cuts will be needing treatment. She’s been drinking.”

Cait nodded.

“The withdrawal will be terrible for her.”

Cait nodded vigorously, biting her lip as she looked down at Vi.

“I’ll see to bringing in some nurses to help me. Stay back, and let us work.”

Her father called upon his own staff from the hospital and soon Vi was surrounded.

With all her authority, Cait could do nothing but watch as Vi’s ribs were bandaged for support. She didn’t wake through any of it, even as her body jerked while her wounds were cleaned and Cait herself unwound her wraps.

Her father ran a line into Vi’s arm and hung a bottle of fluids.

“I’ve started her on normal saline and a nutritional supplement, antibiotics to be administered every twelve hours on the hour.”

“Thank you.”

“I did it for you.”

Cait was not prepared to be alone with Vi but it happened anyway. She sat by the bedside and watched Vi breathe, her chest rising and falling steadily. She would call names in her sleep: Mom. Vander. Powder.

Cait.

Cait. Cait. Cait.

Vi called her name like a prayer, voice that of a lonely searcher calling out in the dark.

“I’m here,” Cait whispered, “I’m here, Vi. Just open your eyes.”

Hours stretched into a day, two. Cait was slumped in her chair when it happened, using her cape as a blanket.

“Cait?”

Her voice sounded different, somehow more coherent. It took Cait a stunned moment to realize that Vi was looking at her.

“Where am I?”

“I brought you home.”

Vi grunted as she started to sit up. Cait jolted to her feet and pressed her back down, gently.

“You’ve a broken rib, and the withdrawal.”

Vi fell back into the pillows.

“You should have left me where you found me, Cupcake.”

“I never should have left you at all.”

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Best Friends Share Everything || Carlando

Pairing: boyfriend!Lando Norris x fem!reader x Carlos Sainz Jr Summary: Blame the jet lag or blame the small couch but proximity makes for strange happenings on a late night with your boyfriend and his best friend. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, no actual smut - just build up WC: 1.5k F1 Masterlist

Your head was resting on Lando’s lap while he watched whatever movie it was that he chose to calm his jet lag. He had slept for most of the flight back from Australia and now he couldn’t sleep despite the late hour. You were more interested in dozing periodically and enjoying the back rubs he unknowingly gave you every time the action scenes ramped up. 

“Hey mate, you’re up late,” he greeted Carlos and you opened your eyes to see him stumbling into the room with a yawn.

“No puedo dormir,” he grumbled, as you curled your legs up before he dropped heavily into the space he had claimed as his seat.

“Can’t sleep,” you translated since the only Spanish your boyfriend knew was ‘I’m a lake’ and ‘sorry’. And he only knew sorry so he could apologise when he butchered the language.

“I swear it’s getting worse,” Lando commiserated with a nod. “If I go to sleep now I’ll pay for it tomorrow.”

The jet lag from constant travelling you could handle, but what you were struggling with was space on the three seater couch. You didn’t want to have to sit up since you were more comfortably lying down, so you stretched your legs back out, popping them down on Carlos’ lap.

“Can you please tuck me in?” you asked as you wiggled your toes. The blanket hadn’t moved with your feet and so the cool air was kissing them and making your entire body cold.

“That’s a job for your boyfriend,” he joked before pulling the blanket over his lap so he could steal the warmth too.

“Eh,” Lando shrugged, his eyes glued to the tv as he waved a hand in his direction. “Best friend’s share everything, I’m sure you can manage that.”

The words were purposeful and you frowned at the familiarity of them, like you had heard them somewhere but since forgotten.

“¿Todo?” Carlos chuckled, grabbing your foot that had shifted on his lap when you wriggled to get comfortable. You lifted your head to look at the Spaniard and met his dark eyes as he started to massage you, his thumbs working deep into your sole until a low sound escaped your lips.

“Shh, babe,” Lando hushed as he grabbed your head and laid it back down on his lap, his fingers idling brushing the column of your neck.

You bit your lip but it wasn’t long before you couldn’t help the sounds slipping through. Lando could probably feel your pulse speeding up beneath his fingers as Carlos’ massage began to glide up your ankle. 

“Baby,” Lando murmured quietly as he placed one hand over your mouth, his thumb stroking your cheek, and the other grabbed the remote, increasing the volume on the tv. 

You should have done something, said something, when his hands reached your calves but they felt good as they eased the tension from a weekend spent on your feet in Lando’s garage. 

Your eyes closed as you tried to remain quiet and impassive but your body was screaming for more and your legs parted unconsciously when he reached the underside of your knee. Your eyes flew open as you felt Carlos rearrange the blanket and the adjustment caused your foot to brush a very hard body part trapped by the thin silk boxers he had gone to bed in.

“¿Qué?” he asked innocently, his eyes anything but innocent.

 You shook your head and relaxed back onto Lando’s thighs as you lost all ability to think clearly but the air in your chest froze. Lando froze too, not daring to even breathe as you rolled your eyes to look up at your boyfriend, both of you knowing exactly what you felt. 

Lando tried to look coy but his dilated eyes were fixated on your lips and his fingers trailed over your collar before following the swell of your breasts and disappearing under the blanket.

“Lan…” you whispered as the pad of his thumb found your peaked nipple and Carlos’ palm warmed the soft skin of your inner thigh. “What are you doing?”

“Want me to stop?” he whispered back, before pressing his lips together to hide his smile when you quickly shook your head. “Then keep quiet, baby.”

His eyes returned to the movie but his attention remained on you and how you started to squirm with his touch, and soon he stopped pretending otherwise. The blanket slipped down your body as he pulled your camisole aside and the cold air sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Lan,” you gasped as you tried to cover yourself, but he chuckled as he rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, the sound turning to a needy whine. “Let’s go to bed.”

“I’m not tired,” he chuckled before looking over at Carlos whose hand was dangerously close to the lace edge of your panties. “Are you?”

“Not anymore.” Carlos’ tongue peeked out as he watched your bare breast rise and fall with your quick breaths, your eyes tracing it as it rolled across his lips, and an intrusive thought soon followed. You wondered how those full lips would feel against yours, if they were as soft as they looked, what pleasure they could bring.

“Do you really want to go to bed, love?” Lando asked, his eyes finding the lump under the blanket where Carlos’ hand rested. Carlos’ fingers dug into your skin like he was fighting the urge to close the distance to the second heartbeat that had started to throb in your core, the place you wanted him to reach.

“No,” you admitted quietly, closing your eyes as you felt guilty for even thinking about his best friend the way you were in that moment. It wasn’t the first time you had thought about the Spanish racer, you weren’t immune to the handsome men Lando called his friends, but it was certainly the most intense feeling.

“Do you want us to stop?” he asked, your eyes snapping up to him.

"Us?"

Lando’s chuckle harmonised with Carlos’ deeper one and they shared a look over you. “You get so vocal when you are drunk, baby. Best friends share everything, Lando.”

Your eyes widened as the night Barcelona came back to you and he ran his thumb over your lips still parted with surprise and shock. 

It had started off with an innocuous question about what he told his friends when it was just the boys after he had overheard you talking with your girlfriends - explicitly. He had wondered what else you shared with them and you said ‘Best friends share everything, Lando. You do the same with Carlos’.

“Not everything, love,” he teased as he helped you undress in your intoxicated state. “We haven’t shared you.”

“Well you could,” you joked, collapsing naked on the bed as the room spun. “I love you and there is no one sexier than you, but he’s very good looking.”

You had passed out pretty quickly after that and hadn’t remembered the conversation in the morning.

The temperature seemed to swell as Lando’s thumb drew your lip down and he waited to see how you would react. You wanted the blanket gone, you needed the air to cool enough to breathe again, but your body reacted for you, your tongue catching his thumb and sucking it into your mouth until he moaned at the tight seal he knew felt heavenly around his dick.

The sound went straight to your core and you squirmed as fire ignited in your blood at the prospect of Lando sharing you with his best friend.

“Do you want us to stop?” he asked again as he palmed himself, needing some friction in its hard state. 

You broke away from his face to look at Carlos, but you could still see the flush to his cheeks and the hunger in his eyes. It was almost impossible to see the brown rings around his dilated pupils and you noticed his bare chest rose faster than before as his biceps tensed, like it was taking all his strength to remain still.

You dragged your tongue up Lando’s thumb and swirled it around the tip before whispering, “No, please, don’t stop.”

The pretence of patience was gone, the moment of stillness shattered, and the blanket was whipped away from your body. The thin camisole you wore did little to hide what lay beneath, not after what Lando had done and when it had already ridden high up your thighs, and Carlos released a shuddering breath at the sight of your panties, a damp patch clearly noticeable. 

“Estás divina,” he praised as he shifted in the seat, parting your legs so he could settle between them. “You are a lucky man, Lan.”

“I know.”

You forced yourself to check on your boyfriend and the reservation you had felt melted away as you saw the pride in his smile, the smugness of knowing you were still his no matter what Carlos got to have a taste of tonight.