#i do still believe that if anyone were going to pull this off it would be j

[thesummerstorms]

You know that conversation you can have with Emmrich where he asks what your plans are for your body when you die?

I think Arsinoë accidentally horrified him. Not by clinging to non-Nevarran ideals about cremation, but by telling him she never thought anyone would care that much one way or the other.

She would be dead, so she wouldn't care. And honestly, a majority of compradi die as Fledglings without graduating; she thinks their bodies were probably burned (since you have to do something with bodies) but they certainly don't have funerals, so it certainly wasn't worth worrying about then.

Emmrich interjects, trying to wrangle his own shock long enough to point out that she's not a Fledgling now, so surely...?

Well if she dies now, Arsinoë all but shrugs, it would depend on the circumstances, wouldn't it? She isn't someone important like a Talon or the scion of an established Crow family. She certainly isn't Caterina Dellamorte, who warrants something verging on a State Funeral.

If she died, there is still a non-zero chance it would be at another Crow's hands, in which case it's anyone's guess what happens after.

If she dies honorably fulfilling a contract, then Viago might feel obligated to do something if he isn't pissed off at her failure and she's isn't still in Exile. He's her mentor, so probably he would manage at least a small pyre. Maybe even a flower or two for the flames if he's letting himself feel sentimental. Teia would probably be there because Viago was.

But just as often, when a contract goes wrong, there's no time to go back for the body. The mark get ahold of it, or whoever's left on the contract has to focus on survival rather than the dignity of a corpse that can't feel any of it.

But really, none of that would matter to Arsinoë, would it? She'd be off wherever dead souls end up going, or maybe in oblivion, who knows. She doesn't have any family to be horrified by her corpse unless you count Viago, who is Fifth Talon, has bigger things to worry about, and will get over it.

But anyway, why do you ask, Emmrich?

Emmrich is too aghast to answer clearly at that point because every single point of Arsinoë's answer goes so deeply against everything that is ingrained in him as part of the Mourn Watch, from the belief that a corpse just doesn't matter to her sincere belief that no one would care enough about her for any particular mourning rights.

And the thing is Emmrich does care. It's his professional duty to care, but he's also become fond of his young friend and he cannot handle imagining that she could die on this mission or the next and potentially receive no rites at all.

Cue Emmrich starting to plan how he's going to have Rook interred in the Grand Necropolis when the time comes. It may involve some string pulling, especially if (hopefully) she dies not on this mission but in the distant future, and even more so if he precedes her and has to leave the job in one of his colleague's hands. But Maker help him, there will be a plan and her death will be respected.

When it comes to light, Neve is uncertain and a little weirded out, but also a little offended by all this. She's fallen in love with Rook, but even before that, the respect between them would have warranted a pyre and Arsinoë's name on the Wall of Light if there was no one else to arrange things. Is this why she's never asked about what happened after Varric-

Lucanis is horrified by the idea of Arsinoë as one of the spirit-possessed skeletons in the Necropolis or one of the jewel-eyed skulls in its many niches; he snaps at Emmrich about Nevarran obsession and respecting Rook as Antivan.

Emmrich refuses to budge. She expected the Crows to do nothing for her. She deserves better, deserves to be remembered, even if she isn't Nevarran.

Lucanis seems fully stunned by the idea that Rook believed this in the first place, given Viago's attachment. Given Lucanis's own growing feelings. Emmrich does soften a little bit when he sees that Lucanis truly didn't realize, but he also doesn't fully divert his plans.

Gathering a grave-dowry is normally left to a lover or family member if the deceased was themselves unable, and Emmrich is neither. But needs must, and though his friend now seems attached to Neve and Lucanis, hearts can be fickle. A plan is better. So he puts away small things here or there, eyes which of Rook's enchanted rings and amulets she seems to favor just in case.

It almost helps him live with the knowledge that Arsinoë believed she would die unmourned. Almost.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Could we get a 2003 Raph x reader where reader is super sweet and easygoing, like to total opposite of Raph…and the others are so confused/shocked?

Opposites Attracts (Fluff)

2003!Raphael x reader

A/N: Yes you can. It’s a little on the shorter side, but I hope you’ll still enjoy it❤️

Warning: None❤️

When you and Raph first made your relationship public, the others were - at a lack of better words - shocked. The two of you could not be more different, with absolute opposite reactions to the world around you. So when you and Raph one day came down to the lair, hand in hand, on your way to tell Splinter that the two of you had in fact been together for a couple of months, you could see how the world that the turtles knew, changed in front of their eyes.

Raph had a tendency to get annoyed rather quickly, finding it much easier to lash out at others, instead of having to face his strong emotions head on. He could get rather negative, focusing his attention on smaller things that annoyed him, letting them blow up with ease as he complained about them. It could be anything from the weather to Leo’s leadership, and he could go on for hours, tiring out anybody that was there to listen. How and why you would want to be with someone so different from you, left many confused.

It has been mentioned quite a few times at this point, but you were the exact opposite of Raph. You were like day and night, with Raph being night and you most definitely being the day. You were like a walking ray of sunlight, brightening up the whole world around you. You were probably the most easy going person the turtles and their friends had ever met, even giving Mikey a run for his money. While Raph would get furious, and lash out at the world around him whenever he got annoyed or mad, you rarely got mad. Sound you ever get close to anger, you were amazingly good at verbalising your feelings, starting a calm conversation. You rarely complained, and lived with an understanding that the world wasn’t perfect, and that we can’t always get everything exactly the way we want it. Yet you always lend an ear to anyone that needed to get something off their heart, especially Raph. April and Donnie speculated that that was how you and Raph’s relationship first came about. Leo and Splinter believed it was nature balancing itself, while Mikey and Casey believed that either you or Raph had been charmed by something.

But no matter how shocking you and Raph’s relationship might have been for the others, there was no doubt that it was actually a well functioning relationship at that. You were a calming factor in Raph’s life, providing with a space and a kind of understanding he had been looking for all his life. After Leo and Raph had had a particularly intense verbal altercation, Raph did something he had never done before. Normally he would yell, call Leo names, and maybe even try to land a punch at him or a wall. But instead Raph just left for his, clearly still fuming as he mumbled all sorts of things to himself. When Leo then passed Raph’s room 30 minutes later to apologize and talk about what had happened, Leo found Raph laying in his hammock, the phone to where his ear would have been, talking calmly to you, telling you what had happened. Leo was even surprised to hear Raph admit that he might have overreacted. Hearing that, realizing that you might be what Raph needed the most at that moment, Leo left, letting you and Raph have you conversation in private peace.

Later that day you arrived in the lair, before spending the night with Raph. You didn’t do much other than talk. Talk about Raph’s feelings regarding what had happened between him and Leo that day. It was something you had been practicing with Raph for some time now. Putting words on his feelings or helping him do so, while learning to take certain things less seriously and letting what isn’t helping him emotionally.

The next morning, many were surprised when Raph pulled Leo to the side, in order to give him an apology, along with an explanation. There was no doubt anymore - you and Raph may be very different, but you were good for each other - especially you for Raph. Who knew, maybe Raph helped bring out parts of you that you had buried deep within you. Only time would tell, and many were excited to see where this would lead you and Raph.

[icanimagine08]

A Morning in Seoul

Summary: Jeonghan and reader both have a day off - what better way to spend it lounging around all day together?!

Warnings: None! Just fluff!

Word Count: 1345

Here is another Jeonghan fic!! I'm going to be on holiday for a couple of days so won't upload for a while! as always, feel free to send in any requests! Hope you're all having a lovely build up to Christmas! :)

It was a rare thing, this quiet morning in Seoul. The city was waking up, the streets outside still quiet, with only the occasional hum of distant traffic or a car honking in the distance. But inside the soft, dimly lit apartment, everything felt suspended in time, just for the two of you. 

Yoon Jeonghan lay beside you, his arms wrapped lazily around your waist as the faint morning light filtered through the curtains. The comfort of his presence was something you’d never quite grown used to, not even after five years together. In a world that always seemed to rush forward, moments like these – simple, calm, and uninterrupted – felt like a little oasis. 

His breathing was steady, warm against your skin. The rhythm of his chest rising and falling was comforting. You didn’t want to move. Not yet. 

You shifted slightly, just enough to tuck your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin, a mixture of his cologne and the faint trace of his shampoo. His hand, which had been resting on your side, slid gently up to brush through your hair, the motion slow and tender, as though he wasn’t quite ready to let go of the stillness either.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the peace of the moment settle over you. For a few minutes, the world outside didn’t exist – just the warmth of Jeonghan’s body next to yours, the soft rustle of blankets, and the quiet murmurs of contentment that filled the space between you both.

"I can’t believe we’re both off today," Jeonghan murmured, his voice low, still heavy with sleep but also laced with that signature warmth of his. He pulled you closer, making sure your bodies were pressed together. 

You smiled, your lips brushing against his collarbone. "I know. It’s been forever since we had a day like this."

He chuckled softly, a sound that always made your heart flutter. "I swear, you always say that. But it’s true. I forget how nice it is to just… be with you, you know?"

You nodded, looking up at him. His face was soft and unguarded, the morning light casting gentle shadows across his features. Even after all these years, there were still moments when you would find yourself gazing at him, thinking that he was more beautiful than you’d remembered. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, “I forget sometimes too. It’s just... the two of us.”

Jeonghan's smile deepened, and he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. His lips lingered there for a moment, before he pulled back slightly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. 

"Are you saying you could live without my company?" he teased, giving you a playful nudge.

You snorted, rolling your eyes. "Of course not. You’re impossible to live without, Jeonghan."

He laughed at that, his entire face lighting up with the joy that he so effortlessly exuded. The sound of his laugh, genuine and carefree, always made your heart ache with affection. 

“I’m glad to hear that.” He rested his forehead against yours, his fingers gently tracing circles on your arm. “I’ve missed this… us just being together without anyone else demanding our attention.”

It had been a while since you’d had a proper day off together. Between his packed schedule as a member of SEVENTEEN, the countless rehearsals, recordings, and the never-ending cycle of concerts and events, there was rarely any time just for the two of you. But this morning, here, in this little corner of Seoul, you had all the time in the world. 

"Do you want to just stay here today?" you asked quietly, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt, feeling the soft fabric under your fingertips.

"Why would I want to leave when I have you right here?" he responded, his voice thick with affection. He leaned down again, this time pressing his lips gently to yours. The kiss was slow at first, lingering as though neither of you wanted to pull away. When you finally did, your lips tingled from the closeness. 

“Stay in bed all day?” you asked, your voice teasing now. 

He chuckled softly. "Well, that sounds pretty perfect to me. But if you’re set on being productive, I guess I could find something to do… like maybe make us breakfast?"

You grinned, running your hand down the back of his neck, pulling him closer again. “You don’t need to do that. We could just stay in bed and order something.”

He looked at you with a mock expression of offense. “Are you saying I can’t cook?”

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider it. “I’ve never seen you cook.”

He grinned, nudging you with his elbow. “You’re missing out. But maybe you’re right, a lazy breakfast in bed does sound good.”

The thought of a cozy breakfast together, with the possibility of the two of you staying wrapped in your little bubble for a while longer, made your heart warm. You let yourself sink back into his embrace, savoring the comfort of his arms. 

"Okay, okay," Jeonghan continued after a beat, his hand tracing the side of your face. "But only if you promise me one thing."

“What's that?” you asked, looking up at him curiously. 

“That after breakfast, we don’t leave this bed for the rest of the day. We can just watch movies, or talk, or do nothing at all."

You chuckled, nodding. "Deal."

Jeonghan smiled, his eyes soft as he leaned in to kiss you once more. The kiss was sweet, languid, without any rush – just an expression of how much he adored you. You could feel the smile tugging at the corners of your lips even as you kissed him, and when you finally pulled back, your breath was shallow, as though the closeness between you both had stolen it. 

"Okay," you murmured, "I think we should definitely stay here then."

He laughed softly, pulling the covers up over both of you and tucking you into his side. "Good. Because I’m not letting you go today."

As you both lay there, with the peaceful quiet of the morning surrounding you, there was a sense of comfort that settled between you both. The chaos of Jeonghan's world – the rehearsals, the fans, the busy schedules – seemed so far away now. Here, in this little apartment, it was just you two, sharing the simple joy of each other’s company.

You snuggled closer to him, letting your body relax against his. His fingers moved to your hair again, brushing it away from your face, before his lips pressed gently against the top of your head.

"How did I get so lucky to have you here with me?" Jeonghan asked softly, his voice full of affection and sincerity.

You smiled, your hand resting against his chest. "I should be the one asking that. But I think we’re both lucky."

He hummed contentedly, closing his eyes. "Maybe we should never leave this apartment," he whispered, half-seriously. "Just you and me, all the time."

"I wouldn’t mind that," you replied, your heart swelling at the thought. "But we both have lives outside of here. So, for now, we can just enjoy this morning together."

Jeonghan nodded, his arms tightening around you, pulling you closer as though he could keep you in this bubble forever. And for that moment, you believed he might. 

In that quiet, perfect morning, nothing else mattered. It was just you, him, and the peaceful serenity of a world that, for once, could wait.

---

The minutes ticked by slowly, and eventually, the faint aroma of coffee wafted into the room. Jeonghan, as promised, had gotten up to make breakfast. But as you lay there, wrapped in the warmth of the blankets and his presence, you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed just yet.

[deepestnightcolor]

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Kinkmas - 22nd of December⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

ᴀ/ɴ: There we are. A door is smiling at you again. Are you ready to open it? Take a peek? Maybe engulf in it? I thank you for your time and I hope you will enjoy!

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Shane x Fem!HYBRID!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 7501 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: the reader is a HYBRID, Shane is rough, raw sex, public sex, seduction, despair, talks of alcoholism and depression, Shane is a fucking grump, creampie, loads of cursing and degredation.

The Feast of the Winterstar – what fucking humbug. That was at least what Shane had always believed ever since he had turned 13 years old. Over the years that thought had settled and manifested in something borderline hateful. He hated the way people pretended to care about one another for one day. Hated how people started talking to him the closer it got to that Yoba-forsaken day – people that didn’t even glance his way any other time of the year! Hated coughing up money for gifts for people he couldn’t care less about, hated standing around in the cold, listening to meaningless chatter and looking in faces that were so full of pretence that it made him want to belch. Of course, Shane  wasn’t overly cruel, thoug. He always managed to fetch a gift for Jas, wrap it and pretend it was from someone that wasn’t him, always managed to help her set up a little tree in her room, and he always managed to go through the motions of all the traditions his niece knew and loved. Did he like it? No. Did it make him feel any better about any of this? No. Did it make him believe in anything? Hum-fucking-bug. Did he still stomp through the snow in big boots and eat the cookies and drink the milk Jas had set out so she could scream excitedly about Santa’s visit? Yes, but still! – hum-fucking-bug. Shane was huffing and puffing as he walked through Cindersap forest, axe slung over his shoulder and pulling a sleigh behind him. Yet another tradition he didn’t understand. Why the fuck would anyone cut down a tree, just to put it up, decorate it and then throw it out again? And why was he the one that needed to do it? For fuck’s sake. He grumbled, heavy boots sinking into the snow as he trudged on. Marnie had told him her and Jas had found a tree that was just perfect, and that they had marked it with a cross in the snow for him – “you will find it so easily!”. Yeah, right. The skies had already started to darken when he had gotten off work, and the forest didn’t necessarily increase his sight. But no, it had to be done right this instant. “What if it snows, Shane!” Marnie had asked, accompanied by his niece’s puppy dog eyes. “Fuck this bullshit,” he hissed, rubbing his gloved hand over his face. All the trees looked the fucking same, what the fuck could make one perfect? Besides, would they really notice if he picked any other tree? Knowing his niece, she probably would. Which meant Shane trudged on, pulling the wooden sleigh, carrying his axe. He had almost given up when finally something caught his eye, a cross, sloppily drawn in the snow. “Fuckin’ finally,” Shane hissed, letting the head of the axe drop in the snow, rounding the tree to find the perfect spot for the first whack. He eyed the tree – and for the life of him, he couldn’t fucking figure out what made it “perfect” – then shrugged. He would get it down either way he decided, lifting the axe, making his back muscle tense up, bicep flexing before he made the first blow, strong enough to make his upper body vibrate. The tree shook, making a load of snow drop off a branch, hitting the dark-haired man right on the head. “What the actual fuck is this fucking shit-whacking bullshit, I fucking HATE fucking whatever this fucking is!” He hollered, dropping the axe, trying to shake the snow off of his beanie and coat, but he still ended up with some melting down his hairy back. “FUCK! Feast on my big, fat, DICK you stupid winterstar!”

The string of curses didn’t let up as he picked up the axe again, an aggressive blow being delivered to the tree trunk, one that had made his whole body tense and shake as the energy was released. Just as he lifted the tool a third time, though, did he hear a sound over the strings of fuck’s and shit’s. Had he just heard steps? It had sounded like it, but when he looked over his shoulder, he saw nothing but…trees. He rose a brow, then shrugged his broad shoulders once more, cussing again when he felt the cold on his back again. The third blow was more precise than the angry one from before, landing in that edge he had hit into the tree the first time. Finally, it seemed he was getting somewhere- “’Scuse me,” a tiny voice suddenly asked, making him twirl around, almost stumbling. “Holy FUCK, what the hell?” He snapped, axe held in front of his chest, blinking against the growing shadows. He let his head tilt slowly when he saw the silhouette that looked… human. But- What was that on its head? He leaned forward a little more, but it turned out that he didn’t need to. The figure stepped out of the shadows slowly, approaching him with a sweet smile on her lips. “Are you Shane?”

Usually, Shane would have had an impromptu answer for things like this – “fuck the fuck off and leave me alone” was his personal favourite, not kind, but effective – but something had caught his attention. Those ears definitely weren’t human, way too long and twitchy. And the last time he had checked, humans didn’t have fucking antlers.  Was he drunk? He had had one beer, hadn’t he? Yeah. He hadn’t had time to drink yet. So why was this fucking girl wearing antlers? “The fuck?” He asked, brows furrowing in a frown. “Why do you know my name? And why the HELL are you wearing antlers? Are you one of those seasonal freaks from Joja? Fuck right off where you came from.” Another usually – usually, people would frown, or just laugh awkwardly and walk away, the most unusual thing that had happened to him was someone daring to show him the finger. Asides from Sam, of course. Sam, ever the stubborn- he was getting off topic. This…person…didn’t follow his “usually” either. You just smiled softly at him, ears twitching as you stepped closer. “I am not wearing antlers, I have antlers.” “Yeah, right, and my dick is a snow cone. Want a lick before you piss off?” Honestly, it was getting cold, making the snow cone comment not as unbelievable as he had hoped, but like hell he would tell…you. “That does actually sound quite pleasant.” Again, Shane’s brows furrowed almost automatically. You were definitely taking the piss, and he didn’t even fucking know you.   “Fuck off, I am fucking busy, too busy to play with a furry.” This time, a laugh left your lips, a sound that sounded like bells chiming softly, so clear and warm that it made his facial features soften a little. “Beings like me are called a hybrid, Shane,” you told him, snow crunching under your boots as you stepped closer. Shane blinked at you like he had done before, his fingers wrapping tighter around the handle of the axe. “Yeah, right. Stop shitting me and finally leave me alone. Ya see that I am fuckin’ busy, don’tcha? Or do “beings like you” have piss poor eyesight?” Yet again, no irritation, no confusion, not even a flash of a negative emotion could be seen on your face, he was met with nothing but another of those pretty laughs. And why did it make his heart beat faster? “Why are you doing this?” “Doin’ what?” “Cutting down a tree, Shane.”  Crunching snow. You had taken another step, and Shane could almost make out your features now. “’Cause it’s fuckin’ normal, unlike runnin’ ‘round a damned forest, pretending to be a deer and snoopin’ round-” “Reindeer, if you please.” “What-fucking-ever. Runnin’ ‘round like a rein-…Wow, you really ARE takin’ the piss, huh? Who paid you enough to be like this?” Twitch. How did you manage to get those ears to twitch? “I thought you didn’t like the holidays.” “I fuckin’ don’t.” “Then why are you cutting down a tree for the festivities?” Holy shit. Poor Shane had to take a deep breath now, trying to regain  control over his thoughts, just to end up…irritated when a different scent than just foresty musk hit his nose. Cinamon? Why did the air smell like cinnamon and cookies now? “Because- uh…,” he had to clear his throat, the sweetness in the air making his throat run dry in a way that led him to stumble over his words, “how the fuck- uh- how the hell would you know it’s for that? Maybe I need it as fire-“ “You always stock up way before winter, Shaney.” Shaney? What the hell was happening here- Snow was crunching again, and finally, you were close enough for him to see you, and Yoba, even Shane could admit that you were drop-dead gorgeous. Not that he would say it out loud-

You gave him a smile, one that was just as soft as your laugh had been, long lashes fluttering up at him. It was hard for him to take his eyes off your face, but your antlers caught his attention. What horrified him, though, was that they seemed to be real. “They are pretty, aren’t they? You can touch them, I don’t mind,” you offered, voice soft, eyes shining up at him with a soft glimmer. Like hell he would touch some antlers. He would turn around now and go home, cut that tree down tomorrow. Fuck this shit- “But what really turns me on is when you touch my ears.” Shane’s eyes fell back on you almost immediately, taking in your face again. You were still smiling, all soft and patient, although he did believe to see a hint of a grin underlying that carefully constructed surface. “The fuck do you want?” He asked, a little breathless now. “Me? Oh, nothing, Shaney,” you hummed, leaning a little closer, allowing Shane to hear the soft chime of bells – real bells. His grey eyes snapped down, breath hitching in his throat when he saw your outfit – you were wearing nothing more than a red and white striped skirt, a small green shirt, and a red harness that was laced bells. How the hell had you managed to not freeze to death- “I just want to…You know,” you added on, your hands now on his shoulders, “make you feel a little more festive. Can’t have you gloom around like the last few years now, can I?” You cooed, and something about it just made his cock twitch in his pants. He swallowed down the knot that had begun to form in his throat. Why was he keeping up with this? A crazy-ass bitch, pretending to be a hybrid was standing in front of him, babbling stupid, albeit true, shit and he was taking it. He could just step away and walk home. Tell them it was too dark to find the tree. Prove him wrong, Marnie. But something kept him standing still. Something made his fingers twitch, feeling a dire need to touch those soft looking ears. “Tempting, aren’t they? You can touch, I promise…Would it maybe help you if I called you master?” Yoba, how had you known? Fuck, had you felt his cock twitch just now? He fucking hoped not, even tried to shift his hips away to get some space between them and you. “Oh!~ So you do like being called master. And I am happy to oblige,” you added on, lowering your head, silently offering your ear. And Shane couldn’t believe it, but he reached out. Even took off his gloves to slowly wrap his fingers around the fluffy, sensitive things. He had expected this to be something you were messing about as well, some weird prank, but the sound that left you proved him wrong. So, so wrong.

It sounded so sweet, your little moan. So honest, so warm, vibrating in his ears, hitting a spot he usually kept hidden away so carefully. “That feels good, master,” you sighed, pushing your head in his touch, bringing him face to face with a pair of rather impressive antlers. If Shane had taken a closer look now, he would have noticed that these things most definitely weren’t fake, but the old grump was much too busy to press down on those fuzzy ears, feeling them twitch under his warm hands, hearing that angelic moan again. This time the vibrations didn’t die down in his ears, they went through his whole body, crawled down his spine, making his pudgy dick throb in his pants. Yoba, in every other situation he would have barked at you to get right the fuck off, but you made something in his stomach set ablaze, clawing dangerously at Shane’s otherwise rather simple emotional palette, awakening a need in him he had barely ever felt in the last few years. Again, something the man would have never admitted, but it was true – with how often he had been drunk or depressed, okay, cross that, he had been both more often than not, he had barely been in the mood to do put up with his body in any other way than stuffing it with food or filling it with alcohol. But right now, he could feel his girthy dick throb numbly with your little moans, could feel his breathing growing heavier whenever those little bells chimed as you tried to lean even closer, sighing at the surprisingly sweet massage Shane’s thick fingers delivered.

Shane could not help himself, his eyes moved down your body rather shamelessly. Taking in your tits, the leather of the halter pressing down on them in a way that made his Adam’s apple bob with a thick swallow, took in the way your skirt hugged the plush of your hips, the way it allowed itself to flow down to your mid-thigh to just…stop, revealing long, strong looking legs. Shane’s cock dared to throb again, and he could feel himself harden in his pants, greedy for the dish that offered itself so openly. He would have been ashamed if it hadn’t been so long, and if you had stopped looking at him so prettily. But no, you seemed to melt under his gentle touch, letting out these sounds that made his mind whirr, smiling at him oh so sweetly. He just had to, just had to let his hands slip from your ears, trace down your neck with his thumbs. You didn’t seem to mind, allowing yourself to openly break out in goosebumps, a moan of his name leaving your lips. Fuck, if he hadn’t started hardening before, he surely was now. Fat cock throbbing to life in his pants, vein on the underside of his dick pulsing. But he could hold back still, still unsure, not quite knowing what was happening, and yet he was caught in a daze, one that had his mouth completely dry, and his throat tied into knots, it seemed. Still, his hand had kept wandering, fingertips coming in contact with the cold leather hugging your tits so nicely, making you chuckle quietly. “Looks pretty, doesn’t it?” You breathed, hot breath turning into a cloud as it left your mouth, leaving Shane wanting to swallow it down, his eyes following its slow disappearance with a hint of greed in them. “You know,” you suddenly breathed, fuzzy ears twitching, beautiful eyes looking up at him, and if he wasn’t completely dumb, he was pretty sure he was seeing a glint of mischief in them, “I am not wearing any panties. Thought it to be unnecessary today.”

The way you had said it was cheerful and bright, as if you were singing a happy little tune – and yet it made something within Shane snap. Large hands balling to a fist just to open up again, he grabbed your face and brought it close to his, pressing those chapped lips of his against your soft ones, ignoring the soft tingle jingle that came with the abrupt movements. You seemed to giggle against his lips, willingly parting your own to his lapping tongue, allowing the wet muscle to enter your mouth, moaning greedily when you felt him suck on yours. It seemed like you had gotten him somewhere with this, and it made your heart jump in your chest, especially when you felt a pair of hands wandering down your body, pinching and groping at what they could grasp until they found their new home on your hips, using the leverage to finally pull you into his body. You would have urged him on a little more, really, you would have! The way his tongue licked and sucked yours didn’t make it an easy task, though, and the fact that you were enjoying the deep, rather rough kiss much less so. Teeth clattered against teeth, and his scruff was scratching your face. Not that you minded, quite the opposite. The small sting made you feel all warm. Not even when Shane pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting your lips, were you able to formulate a sentence. You were turned around and pushed against the tree behind you much too quickly – for a man of his size, he moved rather fast, didn’t he? -, your hands finding stable rescue on its bark. “No panties, huh?” Shane snarled, his voice having adopted a deep tone, one that sounded like gravel being grounded under heavy boots, and holy spirits, did it make you shudder. “No, master. Do you perhaps want to check?” You asked, your lip being dragged between your teeth as you arched in your back, pushing your behind backward. There was a short silence, as frosty as the air that was lingering between the two of you. You would have turned your head a little to see the man again, but your antlers were scraping against the tree you were holding on to for support, catching in low hanging branches, leaving you in a rather hopeless position. “M-master?” You asked instead, shifting your hips again. A big paw was still resting between your shoulder blades, holding you in place, which meant he hadn’t just upped and left, which was assuring. You could hear snow crunch under his boots as he shifted, a sound your sensitive ears picked up with ease. You looked downward, seeing Shane’s knee coming up, pressing right into your crotch. Your ears folded backward, a small gasp leaving your lips. You had started getting wet already, and his movement had caught you by surprise, leaving you a little breathless. “How ‘bout you spread your fuckin’ legs f’me then? Bet ya can do that, with the way you’ve been runnin’ your slutty mouth. Right?” The way your heartbeat picked up was probably pretty unhealthy, your legs spreading open until you could feel Shane’s knee comfortably press against your crotch. “Like this?” You asked, bells tingling again as you shifted them open just a little further. What you hadn’t expected was a hand to pinch your side, tickling another moan out of you. “What was that? Thought we agreed on somethin’,” his voice snarled, making you swallow down an aroused chuckle. You hadn’t necessarily agreed on something, but you were way too happy to obey than to correct him. “Yes, master, I apologize. Is this good, master?” You asked, biting your lip yet again when you felt one of his thick fingers slide up your neck, just to run back down, down your spine, hooking in the harness and giving it a rough tug.

The jingle tingle jingle was a well-known noise to you, but in this context, it did nothing but excite you, your little cunt had already started to become wet when Shane had slowly allowed himself to fall into you, but him shifting into this new role did a lot more to you than you could have ever expected. "You can spank me, too, master, if that’s what you’d enjoy,” you suddenly breathed, trying to push your further back – a weak attempt to find the heat that was radiating from Shane’s crotch, but only finding yourself press more against his knee, making you whine out loud.

The dark-haired man’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he watched you, his lower lip bitten as his chest heaved and fell rather quickly. You were so willing, so easy, and so greedy at the same time. Having a knee pressed against your cunt and still searching for his cock. It was no surprise that his free hand was pawing at his dick through his pants, giving it a few rough tugs as he watched you squirm under the pressure of his hand. You had seemingly found out that pushing back against him felt good, because that searching little hump had turned into you rutting your greedy cunt into his knee. Shane hadn’t allowed you to do so, though, had he?

His hand left his cock, instead gripping your ass through your skirt. The sound you gave was surprised, but definitely aroused as well. Your eats were folded toward him, another sign that Shane was happily ignoring in favour of letting his open palm smack down on your ass. “I didn’t fuckin’ allow you to touch yourself, did I, you greedy fuckin’ thing?” “N-no, master,” you breathed, voice shaky with the pleasurable sting spreading through your body. And Yoba, there came another one, harder than the first one, and even though the blow was softened ever so slightly by your little skirt, it still made the skin on your ass burn – his hand was big, and Shane was strong from all his work in the warehouse, despite the gut he had put on from drinking too much alcohol and eating food that was way too unhealthy.  He simply wasn’t one to be underestimated.

The third smack was just as hard as the second one, landing on the exact same, stinging spot as the other two did, forcing your hands to curl against the tree, the excitement that had been bubbling inside of you having grown to something else, something bigger, something way more lustful, something way more… needing. “I am sorry, master!” You moaned out, the quiver in your voice being joined with the jingling of your bells. “Will hold still now, master!” You promised, eyes squeezing shut when you felt another smack increasing the stinging sensation on your ass. “’S’that so?” “Yes, sir!” “That’s what I like to hear,” Shane sighed. Shit, he was hard. Hard and throbbing in his pants, cock begging to be freed from its confines, to drool its fat globs of pre out in the open. First, he had to check something, though. His hand slowly soothed over your ass as it was wandering down to the hem of your skirt, long-cold fingers fetching the fabric to flip your skirt upward, and what he was met with made him groan out loud. It was a deep sound, one coming from his belly. A primal, needy one, one that made your whole body feel like it was set on fire. “You really aren’t wearing any panties,” he breathed, making you shake your head. “I am not, sir.” “And you have a tail.” “I do, sir.” “What happens when I- shit, your cunt’s clenchin’ ‘round nothin’, ya like that? Yeah? Like when I tug on your tail?” He asked, fingers still wrapped around the fluffy tinsel, giving it another tug. If he could have only seen your face, mouth hanging open as if you were about to moan, eyes squeezing shut. What he did see, though, was your pretty cunt, busying itself with clenching around nothing whenever he gave just a teeny tiny tug.

“And you are so wet already, too…Fuckin’ hell, aren’tcha a dirty lil whore, huh?” The attempt to answer was interrupted by the silent moan that had been stuck in your throat finally escaping when you could feel a cold finger trace through your hot, wet cunt. “What is it, reindeer? Ain’t gonna talk to me anymore? Brain already shut off?” you shook your head from side to side, desperately attempting to find the words needed to formulate an appropriate answer, but Shane’s finger slowly circling your twitchy little hole kept pushing them just out of reach. Besides, it already took way too much out of you to not just push back, urge that finger that tapped your cunt’s entrance with mean temptation deep inside of you. Lucky little reindeer girl, because Shane seemed to have just about enough mercy for you to let the tip of his middle finger dip inside your gushy hole. It was just enough to brush that itch you felt burning within you, just enough to make you sigh out, but you. Needed. More.

Your tail was shaking from side to side as Shane teased your pussy, thumb tapping at your clit with cruel curiosity, grey eyes taking in the way your body trembled whenever he did. You were so wet already, taking in his finger with such ease that he needed to swallow thickly, mental image of his cock buried to the hilt inside that warm, pretty, slutty hole popping up in front of his inner eye. God, he needed that. And yet, he couldn’t just give that to you, could he? “Still didn’t hear ya. Maybe I should just…stop,” he breathed, his hand already threatening to pull away. That was when you were able to snap into motion, shaking your head quickly, the frantic tingling of your harness only underlining your despair. “No! Sir, no, please! Please, I- I need you!” “What was that?” He asked, the tug on your harness squishing your tits together almost uncomfortably, adding to the feeling of being about to burst. “I need you, Sir! Pretty, pretty, please!” The snap against your ass and the tug against the harness made your eyes roll, body trembling for more. “Dirty fuckin’ slut. I don’t know ‘bout all this hybrid shit, but I do fuckin’ know ya are a desperate little whore. Nothin’ but a cum dump, isn’t that right? Comin’ up to me to be filled?” You were breathing heavily, ears’ twitching signalling that you were listening. It was true, all of it was true. You wanted to be filled by him, you couldn’t wait to be filled by him. Cunt so painfully wet that you were pretty sure you could feel some of your juices run down the inside of your thighs, body so reactive that even the brush against your tail made your head spin.

Smack. That one had been a hard one, one that made your body jerk forward, one that made you stumble to collect your words yet again. “Yes, sir! Nothing more but a cum dump for you! Can’t wait to please your cock, master!” That was what you had planned to say, at least. Your words came out way more slurred in the form of a whimper, mumbled under your breath as you tried to recollect your last braincells that weren’t busy focusing on you being a cock-hungry slut. Shane himself had trouble focusing. The cold air stung on his cheeks, but he was too focused on you to really notice. The way his hand kept your back arched in, the way you yourself greedily pushed back to expose your cunt further. There was no way he could resist, no way he could stop his hand to unbuckle his belt with that heavy clink, no way he could stop himself from messily removing his painfully hard dick from its tight confines, grunting when the pudgy head smacked against his winter coat. Not to toot his own horn, but Shane’s size was admirable – his dick being the only few things about himself that he had liked, and even that body part of him had been barely functioning. A considerable size as to not say big, with a pudgy, fat head, readily leaking pre-cum that ran down the girthy shaft. He considered you with a sharp look in his eyes, hand pinching at the bottom of his cock before, thoughtfully smacking it against your hole, grinning to himself at the way you twitched, as if your cunt begged for him to finally fill it up. Shane wasn’t cruel, however, his hand leaving his cock again, reaching around you and holding his palm out under your mouth. You looked down at him it in slight confusion, ears twitching again. “Ma-master?” “Spit,” he ordered. That was a request you didn’t need to hear twice; you pursed your pretty lips as you collected a fat glop of spit, readily letting it fall from your mouth onto his hand. The groan that could be heard from behind your back made your tail wag from side to side, heart pounding in your chest, especially when a soft praise followed: “That’s a good girl.” Shane’s hand left her back to rub your ear momentarily, his other hand busying itself slowly running down his shaft, coating his fat cock in your spit, rubbing over the tip and pulling down to make your saliva and his pre-cum mix together in a dirty makeshift lube. “You, uh-“ “Fuck me,” you whispered, your voice a little quieter than intended. Your antlers still made it impossible for you to look over your shoulder, but you were more than willing to spread your legs wider. “Shit, you are a fuckin’ slut,” he laughed, a sound that made your heart jump, laughing with him, albeit yours sounded a lot wobblier.

The heat between your legs made it impossible to think clearly, and his hands, oh, his hands. The one on your ear had started wandering again, exploring your body with rough grabs and gropes. Big palm pressing against your tit, giving it a smack and a squeeze, before a thumb gently rolled over the hardened nipple. It would have almost distracted from his trip pressing against your drippy hole, but the moment he pushed onward, all of your attention was focused on the sensation between your legs. “Oh, ohohohoh!” You babbled, head falling back. Shane felt like his heart was about to explode – your cunt was stunningly warm, gummy walls hugging around his tip in a way that brought him close to just mounting you, bottoming out inside of you with just one thrust. It was tempting, really, filling you to the hilt, stuffing you full of cock just like this. Instead, his hand found that ear again, pressing a gentle massage into it, praising lowly. “Thaaat’s a good slut. Look at you, already suckin’ off my dick, good girl. Gonna move a lil more, okay? Gonna stretch that lil pussy open, that’s fuuuckin’ it, take it.” His cock was honestly aching with despair, with the need to be wrapped up and suffocated by her walls, the dark-haired man’s brain completely shut off as he watched his dick vanish inside her cunt, centimetre by centimetre. And the sounds. Yoba, the sounds you made. They were heavenly. Whiney gasps, breathy moans, begging whimpers, all tumbling out of your mouth freely as he bucked forward. He was about halfway in when he finally gave you a break, your eyes swimming in tears at the unusual size filling your cunt. “Good girl,” he praised again, kissing your shoulder blade carefully. “Think you can take it all, huh? Want me to fill you up nicely, little whore?” Yoba, yes, you wanted him to fill you to the brim. Fuck you senseless, use you however he pleased. His size made your eyes roll as you moved, gasping his name out in the cold night air, leaving it there to be carried away by a gust of wind. His cock was throbbing against your walls, pulsing with each clench your pussy gave in an attempt to adjust. You were struggling, the stinging sensation mixing with pleasure in a way you hadn’t expected it to, leading you to allow yourself to push back against him. “Need more, huh? Cunt’s not full enough yet? Pathetic,” he growled, his façade cracking with how quickly he was obeying, pushing in further, making your cunt take him, until he finally was balls-deep inside of you. Your jaw was hanging open again, fingernails digging in the bark of the tree. You were pretty sure you could feel each and every pulse that went through him in your whole body with how full you felt. “Pussy stretched fuckin’ thin now? That’s what ya like? Filled up like this, pinned against a stupid tree? Wish I could see your face right now, lil reindeer. Bet you look absolutely, deliciously stupid.” And you did. Really, you did. A small drop of spittle hung by the corner of your mouth, your eyes were glazed over with nothing short of dumb pleasure, pretty lashes fluttering when Shane started moving. He moved slowly at first, only pulling back a little and thrusting back in with a considerate stroke.

“Relax for me, babe- that’s it, that’s fuckin’ it. Gushin’ ‘round my cock like that, needy fuckin’ thing- fuck, ya feel so good,” he sighed, his hips moving faster, fucking into you with more vigour now, trying to get more of those delicious sounds out of you. The bells on your harness jingled dutifully as Shane fucked into you from behind, his pace fastening with each thrust.  Oh, how you loved it. Moaning his name shamelessly, gasping whenever it rewarded you a hard smack on the ass, switching back to master, just to slip up again. Being taken against a tree like this was new to you, and if a reindeer hybrid like you had a wish to make, you would have wished for this to never end. Cock stretching you thin, pounding whatever frustrations Shane had into you – and you were happy to take it, especially when he leaned in to praise you so filthily. “Hear that? Hear how your whore cunt is takin’ me? Messy lil slut, holy shit. Good fuckin’ girl.” You swallowed him up so well, cunt complaining with a squelching sound when he pulled back, just to greet him with another sloppy wet sound when he fucked back into you, balls smacking mercilessly against your skin with the rough fucks he was giving you. The pale skin on your ass had started to redden from the cold, but if he looked closely, he could make out the shape of his fingers. Fuck, you took him so well, it should have been illegal. “Like that? Like bein’ fucked against a tree? Ohhhooo, you clenchin’ up again – must be lovin’ it. Twitchy fuckin’ pussy,” he hissed, pelvis smack, smack, smacking into your ass as he took you just how he pleased. The hard, bullying thrusts had turned your brain to complete mush. The cold winter air had no chance against the warmth you felt prickling on your skin, radiating from an ever-consuming heat pooling within you. “Ma-mahaster!” You cried out, making Shane groan lowly. “Feelin’ good, whore? Cunt’s pounded good? Shit, you’re so good f’me, fuckin’ love this pussy.”

A particular rough snap was bullied into you before he began to snap his hips fast again, the string of moans leaving your lips only urging him to push you further, push you closer to the edge. His hand smacked your ass, this time the other cheek, tearing a sob from you, cold skin being forced to heat up with a stinging sensation. “Play with your tits for me,” Shane hissed, his balls feeling painfully tight. If his brain had been any clearer, he would have been surprised that he wasn’t completely out of breath yet, but something about you, cross that, everything about you made it just so easy for him. You felt so full, so hot, and so, so fucking close. Your orgasm was so, so close, making the hand that was pinching and grabbing at yourself shaky, your eyes rolling, legs twitching. “Sh-shane-“ You began, gasping out loud as he picked up one of your legs, pushing it forward, seemingly hitting impossibly deeper.  The words that had been on your tongue had tumbled back down your throat, burning in that pit of hot lava in your stomach that threatened to overtake you, your head falling back, almost hitting the relentless man with your antlers. Shane let out a breathless chuckle, the grunts and groans that had been leaving him barely allowing him to hear your sentence, but the way your body was beginning to twitch and shiver was enough. His fingers found your clit, arm awkwardly wrapped around your hip to reach between your legs, rubbing that little bundle of nerves, smacking his lips together to try and regain his ability to speak. “Ya gonna cum for me? That’s it? Pretty cunt’s gonna spill all over me? Fuckin’ do it. Cum for me, baby, want to have it all.”

You could do nothing but nod, and nod you did. Frantically, bells jingling as your hips fucked back against the rough thrusts that would for sure leave you behind sore, and you would relish the fact that you were. Your breathing came out in short puffs, moans all high pitched as your back arched in, your hand wrapping around the wrist of his hand that was rubbing your clit, a sobbed cry of his name announcing your orgasm that knocked the air right out of your lungs. “Fuhuckkkk, holy fuckin’ shit,” Shane moaned, his other hand wrapping around your stomach to pull you closer, ignoring the feeling of antlers bumping against his head. He needed you close, and he needed you to be close right now as you were creaming around his cock. “Good girl! Perfect girl, fuck! That’s it – cum for me. Cream around me- You are gonna make me cum, fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he gasped, babbling some more lewd curses as he thrusted into you, holding you as close to himself as he possibly could. His breathing became ragged as he neared his orgasm, making your ears perk, even in the dazed state of mind your orgasm had left you in. Your free hand reached back, finding the back of his neck, fingers curling in the strands of hair you could find, giving a small tuck. “Nee-need you to- cum,” you drooled, weakly pushing back your hips.

The dark-haired man could feel his hips stutter, feeling like an invisible hand wrapped around his throat as something inside of him finally snapped. He bucked forward, pressing you against him as ropes of cum started to shoot from his dick, low groan leaving him. The feeling of being filled like this, so snugly pressed against him, it did something to you. Something that made the tears that had filled your eyes finally spill, something that made you want this to never end.

Shane was quivering behind you as he weakly bucked his hips forward, milking his dick with the help of your pussy just like he had milked your cunt – to be honest, he was desperate to fill you up as much as he could, fill you up enough for you to feel it for as long as possible. But, years of alcoholism and depression finally caught up to him, making his hips quiver to a halt, head bumping against your shoulder as he greedily sucked in a lungful of air. And that’s how you were standing there, wrapped in the darkness of the forest, dick stuffed in your cum-filled cunt. How you loved this feeling already. You didn’t know how long the two of you had been standing there like this, but at some point, Shane started to feel the cold settling in, biting at his skin with icy fangs. And even though he would have known a billion other things he would have preferred, he slowly began pulling out, snapping you out of that haze. “Fuck,” he breathed, making you finally turn your head as crunching snow indicated steps turning away. Shane had picked up his messily discarded gloves before slowly returning to you. “Might pinch a lil now, but I don’t know what else I could use,” he explained. You were watching him in confusion as he leaned down, gasping out loud when the rough material of the glove touched your raw cunt. “Sorry, baby. Just need to clean ya up a lil, can’t let ya- there we go, relax for me,” he murmured, dabbing at you oh so carefully. Each contact made you twitch, but his gentle care which posed such a stark contrast to the demeanour from before – you didn’t have the heart to tell him that this would be no problem at all for you. “There, a little better,” he murmured, adjusting your skirt before giving his dick a rather quick swipe before he slowly zipped himself up again. Suddenly, a realization seemed to hit him.

“Those antlers are real.” “Yes, they are.” “That…tail, too?” “Yes.” “And the ears?” You twitched them in response, giving Shane a bright, albeit tired smile. “All real.” “And you…why are you…” “You see,” you smiled bells jingling their soft tune as you approached him, “I’ve heard you say humbug one time too many, and decided to give you a little holiday spirit.” Shane’s brow furrowed again, his mouth opening again to respond- “Nu-uh. You can’t deny this, I am real, and it’s not exactly normal to fuck a hybrid in the forest around the holidays, is it?” At that, his mouth snapped shut, making you giggle and pat his chest. “There, there. This was a fun little present, after all, wasn’t it?” Shane swallowed the knot in his throat as your cold hand touched his cheek. “And I know you have it in you.” “What else do you fuckin’ think ya know?” “That you just gave me the best fuck of my life.” His jaw clicked as he snapped it shut again, making you giggle again. You picked up the axe that Shane had oh so carelessly dropped before, placing it in his hands. “Do I need to- uh. Bring you somewhere?” A laugh left your lips, bright as a bell and as warm as a cozy fireplace. “No, Shane. I have found you with ease, and I will find home with even more ease. Don’t you worry.” “And…uh- will I see you again?” he couldn’t believe he was asking this- “That depends.” “On what?” “If you are on the naughty or nice list.” You gave him a smile; a sweet kiss being placed on his scruffy cheek.

Shane was left stunned as he heard the snow crunch under your boots, crunch, crunch, crunch. He watched after you, legs denying their services – it was like he was frozen to the ground. Shane blinked to let his eyes adjust better, but when he opened them again, you were gone. The fuck? There was no way you could have vanished so quickly! He dropped the axe again, quick steps through snow following the footsteps that you had left behind, just for them to…slowly disappear. 

Shane was left standing in the forest, with no trace of you left behind. Had he just dreamed all of this? Pussy-starved, holiday-hating brain coming up with a dirty fantasy while he tried to cut down a tree? Was he going fucking crazy? He rubbed over his head, pressed his fingers against his eyelid. Maybe he hadn’t gotten enough sleep the past few days? But why the fucking hell did he feel that cozy sleepiness he always felt after an orgasm? He looked into the direction he had seen you go in once more before slowly returning to his axe. Walked to the tree he had held you against, but there was nothing but his own footprints. Fuck, had he been manic or some shit? He swallowed thickly, running his fingers over the tree bark where he had been pretty sure your slender fingers had found support. Shit, he was going crazy. He decided it was time to fetch the axe and go home, sleep it off. But as he walked, he heard a sound. Soft and all clear. Warm and bright. It reminded him of something, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He took another step forward, just to hear the gentle sound again. His hands automatically reached in his pocket, just for his fingers to wrap around something smooth and cold. He pulled his hand back, opening it to find a bell resting in the palm of his hand, still cool from the night air, reflecting whatever little moonlight had fought its way through the trees. He shook it gently, eliciting a soft jingle tingle jingle, making a smile appear on his lips. Well, he guessed there was a reason to get on the nice list now. Or at least the nicer list. While Shane made his way home, the “perfect” tree was resting on the sleigh, and the old grump even hummed a light and soft song – “Jingle Bells”.

[yoakenouta]

ㅤㅤTHE immediate refute caught the master in a flinch and he found himself nervously holding onto the other side of his arm, gaze lowered elsewhere as if he were the picture of uncertainty. Honestly ... what was he so afraid of ? Being an ordinary person, he was well aware he had the privilege to love and be loved just like anyone else but standing here now, he couldn't help but wonder ... just what sort of person did everyone see across the glass ? Perhaps, all they saw was the ideal facade that the master had desperately maintained for as long as he could remember. It was the self that everyone flocked to because he was incredibly kind, helpful and most of all, willing to accept anything that came his way. But yet behind this ideal, he was an utterly selfish and miserable person who sought to act out of self-gratification ( it was the only way he knew to make himself feel like he was worth something ). So that's why, he was content to stay where he was, wearing that same smile while his true self remained behind the looking-glass self, detached from the world.

ㅤㅤBut to admit all of this ... would be pretty pathetic wouldn't it ? In the end, he was nothing more than a coward, afraid to have his true self acknowledged out of the fear that there was truly nothing worth staying for. Besides, why did it matter ? His own insecurities were practically miniscule in the face of the world. He was just but an ordinary person that didn't have anything worth going for him.

ㅤㅤ" ... Breaking that wall is pretty scary, you know ? " He finally, spoke his voice quivering ever so slightly even with a smile on his face. " I wouldn't want them to get hurt after all. " He was only making excuses ( after all, he was the one afraid of getting hurt ). " ... Maybe under normal circumstances, it'd be difficult for her to believe you when you act the way you usually do but I think if you're honest about your feelings like this, maybe you would get through to her. Even if it's just by a little. She and I are pretty different people after all so maybe you'd have a better chance there. " It would be pretty upsetting if she was anything like her master after all.

ㅤㅤ" ... But ... well ... it's not that I don't understand where you're coming from -- rather ... it's a bit hard to believe in myself. It might be a little hard to understand but ... " He trailed off as he found himself hesitant to continue. " ... I do appreciate the sentiment at least. " It seemed more like an apology rather an expression of gratitude. Even his gaze that flicked towards Dark's extended hand had followed the same sentiment.

ㅤㅤ" In the end, you don't really need to do any of that for me. It's not as if it's that big of a deal and besides, I'm already happy enough where I am. " He suddenly reached out, as if to finally take Dark's hand but instead, he seized his wrist to pull him into a tender embrace. " Still ... I'm really happy to have a friend like you. You and Daisuke both. " Perhaps on the surface, it could be perceived as an act of appreciation towards Dark's concern for him but in reality, this was his way of deflecting any attempts to peer into his heart ( this was his way of regaining the control that momentarily slipped from his fingers ). All he had to do was veil himself with the facade that everyone was so happily acquainted with. " So, you don't have to worry about me in the slightest. " He reassured with a gentle smile, squeezing his shoulders ever so slightly.

' it's not . ' immediate , and just as matter-of-fact . his voice nips low , a snarl without any bite . ' ordinary people ... ' and yet , despite the strength of his initial decline , the rest of the words start to feel strange in his mouth . would a thing like him really try to talk about what ordinary lives it hardly should have known ? even his most stubborn ideas about humanity were nothing more than ideals . and yet , he hisses and bares his teeth ; growls out his thoughts from between the long , razor points anyways . ' ordinary people are always allowed something beyond just that . what is it you're so afraid of ? ' the slit pupils of his eyes cinch , each thinning line trying to needle into the other , and yet it wasn't enough ; would never be to slice the master open and place all their parts into vivisection . all he had to work with were ritsuka's words ; vague confessions and self-lashings .

( ... so you're the same , huh . )

' in the first place , it should be enough that you're there . whether it's a servant or even an ordinary human being , there's nothing more precious than anyone's time . second , even if there's a wall , don't you want to try to break it ? to crack and smash it into pieces , just so you can reach person on the other side ? even if you think you have next-to-nothing to give , you can still give it your all for the sake of someone , right ? '

it would have been hypocrisy to call the master a coward , and yet it still might have been a truth . ' --- when i think about her , i want her to trust me . when i call her cute or beautiful , when i call her clever , even for insulting me ... even if she can't believe it about herself , i want her to at last believe me . it's only natural , then , that hearing the opposite would hurt , ' like the ache in his borrowed body , stemming from the heart and bruising him all the way down to the very bone . even this sense of violently being pulped --- was love , too .

' master , we might not be a couple , but we're still friends . if i can make a hole even just the size of my hand in any wall that springs up between us , then that's good enough for me . ' his fist raises and approaches , only to blossom its fingers into an open , waiting palm . ' a box that can't be broken from the inside might still be able to be broken from the outside . if you can find someone to accept things , then there's nothing wrong with living like that ... so believe in me . please . '

an empty thanks would never be enough . ' --- i want to meet you at least halfway . '

[accirax]

Attempting to Debunk the Arei Dress Up Theory

(CW: death, a mention of blackface, and discussion of the BMI system. Spoilers through Chapter 2 of Trigger Happy Havoc and through Chapter 2 Part 1 of Danganronpa: Despair Time.)

As most of you are likely aware, it’s a popular theory that, for one reason or another, the killer of Danganronpa Despair Time Chapter 2 dressed up as the victim, Arei, and that you can see them doing so in this conversation.

Because Veronika brings up Teruko’s prosopagnosia (face blindness) later in the episode, because Arei unusually says nothing throughout this conversation, and because the Dress-Up Room was oh-so-conveniently introduced this chapter, at first glance, it seems very plausible that this could be the twist the Class Trial is heading towards. I, too, liked this theory at first, but then I got to thinking. And the more I thought about all the risk factors, the more I became convinced it was nearly impossible that anybody would have chosen to dress up as Arei.

So, that’s what I’m trying to prove today: no possible killer amongst this cast could have been dressing up as Arei at this exact moment. And, my method is the most fair thing I could think of: bringing up a bunch of points of contention that could trip up anybody, and giving each character either an X or a pass based on their own traits and skills.

Given that there are 14 points that I came up with, I think it’s fair to say that if the character in question receives seven Xs or more (AKA 50%), it would be basically impossible for their disguise to have fooled anyone for this long. I will be giving out double Xs (XX) on some occasions where I think that someone would have a particularly bad problem.

That is based on my discretion, but, uh… so is this entire theory. The good news is that, with this one, it’s particularly easy to play along at home! If you disagree with any of my points, you could run this experiment and change the boundaries or participants to your liking. I’d love to see it if you do!

For this theory, I will be tackling any important character that I think could be dressing up as Arei at this moment. However, that isn’t everybody. Here’s who I eliminated and why:

Because we’re looking at this particular conversation, no one who is present in the Cafeteria could be pretending to be Arei at this point. I mean, I guess if Arei was in on it, then the eventual killer could be dressing up as Arei, and Arei could be dressing up as them. But, if Arei is willing to cooperate… why wouldn’t Arei and the killer just act as themselves? So, Teruko, Hu, Ace, Nico, Veronika, and Levi cannot be dressing up as Arei.

Xander and Min are dead, so I’m excluding them from this conversation.

If Arei is dressing up as Arei, she’s just being Arei. That’s nothing unusual, so we’re not talking about it.

If you genuinely think MonoTV dressed up as Arei and is the Chapter 2 killer, I have many concerns for you.

��Please don’t make me speculate even further about Mai, my heart can’t take it. More seriously, I think that the odds of this huge Mai twist resulting in her being the Chapter 2 killer (and thusly getting executed) are low enough that I can excuse her. I guess it could be that Arei was already dead at this time due to someone else’s hand, and then Mai stepped in from who knows where to impersonate Arei for reasons unknown, but… that’s so speculative that, again, I’m not going to bother. It'd really freak out the killer, too; can you imagine?

Cool! So that leaves us with Arturo, Charles, David, Eden, J, Rose, and Whit as people who could theoretically be dressing up as Arei, likely as her killer.

Before we really get started, I just want to clearly state that, for the most part, I’m not relating this to the actual theories of the timing or method of Arei’s murder. I think it makes the most sense if the person dressing up as Arei then became the blackened, but I’m not actually going to tie anyone’s culprit feasibility into how well they could dress up. There’s no category based on “do they have an alibi for Arei’s time of death” or “could they overpower Arei in a fight.” It’s just an objective look at how good everyone would be at impersonating Arei. I'm going to address the hypothetical person dressing up as Arei as the killer for the remainder of the analysis, though, so keep that in mind.

Let’s get started with issue #1!

Issue #1: Arei’s Hair Color

One factor that even Teruko could notice is if the killer didn’t have the same hair color as Arei. The girl is super blue (Arei even claims so herself in the Chapter 2 Part 1 Q&A), so the killer missing her distinctive hue would be a definite misstep. Out of the characters we have left, I think that David or Arturo would be the best at matching her hair color naturally.

Thankfully, though, they don’t have to.

A point frequently brought up is that we’ve seen these wigs in the Dress-Up Room already. If the killer simply put this on as part of their Arei disguise, it doesn’t matter what their original hair color is. Now, this wig is a lighter color than Arei’s hair, and it’s a little curly, and you’d have to style it, and the white wig being so similar to Sora from SDRA2’s hair makes me think that this wig is meant to parody an existing fangan character… but I’m willing to ignore all that for the sake of theorizing. Plus on that last point, just because the wig may be referencing somebody else doesn’t mean it couldn’t have been used by the killer.

So, no Xs given out this time! A round of applause for all our contestants.

Issue #2: Arei’s Eyes

Similarly, if you showed up dressed as Arei without her beautiful cerulean orbs, a lot of people would probably notice that something was up. J, Whit, and debatably Arturo pass this one for having blue eyes themselves.

The frequent counterpoint to this is similar to the wigs– the Dress-Up Room could easily contain colored contacts which could allow anybody to make their eyes blue. So, let’s talk about the Dress-Up Room.

This is what it looks like in full. As you can see, it’s mostly clothes. Teruko calls it “a boutique,” and Whit and Hu only mention getting “new clothes,” implying that there’s mostly only clothes in this room. However, it’s not only clothes, because Teruko has this to say:

Teruko mentions things besides clothes in this room, but has nothing to say about contacts or makeup. If they do exist, I think it would have to be in this dresser area, either in the drawers or in the pink box.

Now, I don’t think it’s impossible that there could be contacts in either of these places, which is why I’m giving people who don’t have blue eyes a pass here. I’m also ignoring the specific iris/pupil designs that people have here (such as David’s stars or Whit’s heart-shaped pupils) for the sake of the benefit of the doubt. Nobody has patterns on their irises or heart shaped pupils in real life (even after eye surgery), so that could just be a fun design quirk the creator ignored.

However, I will be giving our first X of the game to Eden, because of her glasses. If Eden was dressing up as Arei, she couldn’t wear her usual glasses, which she presumably needs to see. She could remedy her vision impairment with contacts, except that she would have to be wearing colored contacts to have blue eyes.

I did look it up, and it is possible to make colored contacts with a prescription. However, they would have to be customly made for Eden, which would mean that either A) she had to already have them on her at the start of the game (highly unlikely) or B) whoever created this killing game’s set specifically made colored contacts with Eden’s prescription on the off chance that Eden both decided to kill someone AND decided to dress up as someone to do it. They’d have to do it in several colors, too, because they would have no idea who Eden was planning to kill/dress up as. That seems implausible enough to me to discredit her on this one count.

You could also argue that Eden decided to chance just not wearing her glasses here. However, that would raise the obvious problem that she wouldn’t be able to see either what’s in front of her or who’s far away from her, which are both bad for someone trying to go undercover. It would be really hard for her to get through the day without accidentally scrunching her eyes trying to see something, which would start giving her away. Additionally, if Eden’s vision requires a double prescription (such as needing bifocals), you cannot make contacts for that kind of vision impairment.

So, yeah. TL;DR, it’s still an X for Eden only here.

Issue #3: Arei’s Skin Color

Arei has light skin, which you can see on her face and other various body parts in her typical clothing. Thus, anybody with dark skin would struggle impersonating Arei, because they would need to put paint/makeup on their face, neck, arms, hands, and thighs to avoid suspicion.

My point about the Dress-Up Room also comes back here. We haven’t seen any evidence that there is makeup in the Dress-Up Room, and other than potentially in Storage, I don’t think there’s a great alternate place to get it. I would believe that both Whit and Hu might wear makeup, so it would have been easy for one of them to comment about the cosmetics present in this room if they existed, and particularly if they would later be murder relevant.

However again, for the sake of theorizing, I’ll say that there is light skin paint/makeup in one of the drawers that a darker skinned person could use to cover themselves up. It would still be a time consuming plan with a high chance of failure, though, so I’m giving Charles, Eden, and Rose an X for impracticality here.

Issue #4: Arei’s Ethnicity

(This section has been edited since its original posting. Thank you to @another-danganronpa-fan and @xmicrophonyx for drawing my attention to the August 6th Q&A and more importantly the March 6th Q&A!)

Although Google says that the last name “Nageishi” is most common in Brazil (???), given that it’s Japanese in origin (as are Arei, Fuyuko, and Natusko’s names), I’m pretty sure that Arei is Japanese. And many of the other students… are not.

Look, I don’t want to bring real world politics into silly anime murder theory, but I really, really doubt that the creator would want to have a person of one race dress up as someone of another race, especially for characters who would have to change their skin tone. It’s not as obviously bad as a character straight up doing blackface, but it’s close enough that I think the creator would know to avoid putting that beat into their story. I’m tempted to give characters that fail here a double X, but since it’s technically only my opinion, I’ll leave it at one.

Now, I am assuming characters’ ethnicities here based on last names, which isn’t a foolproof plan. It doesn’t account for characters who are adopted, or who have a mixed race lineage. Still, I think that, combined with their designs, it’s the best we have to go off of.

Therefore, I’m giving an X to Arturo (likely caucasian), Charles (confirmed Hispanic), J (confirmed Hispanic), and Rose (French last name, but given that she is obviously black I would say likely Afro-French/potentially Creole?). Because David (likely Vietnamese) is still East Asian, I’m letting him slide; same with Whit (confirmed caucasian/asian). Although Eden's skin tone still troubles me, I try not to penalize or benefit characters multiple times for the same trait. Thus, because Eden is canonically half black and half Japanese, she will also not get an X.

I truly hope that I did not offend anybody with this section. If I said something incorrect, please let me know so that I can apologize and either correct it or remove this section as quickly as possible.

Issue #5: Arei’s Height

Arei is 5’7” (170 cm), so for the killer to impersonate her, they’d have to be somewhere around her height. I know that the Arei we saw was probably sitting down, but like… the killer would still have to walk to and away from the table to get there, which means people could have seen them standing. Not to mention, your height still shows when you’re sitting down if it’s off enough.

I think that being one inch (2.5 cm) off in either direction would be enough to bypass most people (we’ll get to that), so anyone in the 5’6”-5’8” (167-173 cm) range could pull it off. Therefore, J passes at a perfect 5’7” (170 cm), and so does Whit (5’6”/167 cm). Arturo (6’3”/190 cm) gets our first XX here for being literally over half a foot (15 cm) off. Eden just barely avoids being half a foot off at 5’2” (157 cm), so she gets an X. So do Charles (5’9”/175 cm), David (5’9”/175 cm), and Rose (5’4”/162 cm).

Issue #6: Arei’s Weight

I bring in this point mostly to communicate how likely it is that the killer could properly fit into Arei’s clothes. If the killer weighed too much more than Arei, then the clothes would be too tight, and if they weighed too much less than Arei, the clothes would be super baggy.

The best way I figured I could analyze this is to use a Body Mass Index (BMI) chart, which, if you didn’t know, is a ratio doctors use to compare people’s heights to their weights to determine whether or not they may be over- or underweight. Now, there have been several critiques of the BMI system, particularly regarding athletes– muscle is more dense than fat, so some of the fittest people in the world classify as morbidly obese under the system. It also wasn’t designed for anime characters with unrealistic weight expectations (seriously how tf was Mukuro 5’7”/169 cm and 97 lbs/44 kg she should've been DEAD long before the Spears of Gungir).

Because of how unreliable this method is, I won’t be giving any characters XX on this one no matter how far off they are. However, I will be giving one X to anybody who is more than two points off of Arei’s BMI. Because Arei clocks in at 19.5, that means anyone in the range of 17.5-21.5 would be safe.

Weirdly enough, with that range, the only two people who get an X in the weight category are the same people who passed the height category, J (22) and Whit (22). Arturo (21.5), Charles (21), David (21), Eden (20), and Rose (20) all have fairly similar proportions to Arei.

Issue #7: Arei’s Build

Speaking of muscles, Arei’s the Ultimate Bowler, dammit! She’s a professional athlete, and Rose even points out her strength during the arm wrestling contest.

Although I don’t think that the killer would need to expect to demonstrate Arei’s strength (or especially her bowling skills) when in disguise, you can still gauge how muscular someone is just from looking at them. For example, were Levi an option, he would be way too muscular to pass off as Arei.

This point becomes a lot easier to score with the official strength chart that the creator released in the Chapter 2 Part 1 Q&A!

I know that the creator warned us to not take this diagram too seriously, but for the sake of fun speculation, I think that this semi-canon material is the best we have to go off of. Not to mention, each section is only one point out of fourteen overall. If we're a little off here, it'll be okay.

Besides, I suspect that they put in that warning more so for people who do intense math about crime theories (like people who calculate that anyone who lifted Arei’s body using a single pulley system would have to be able to lift approximately 64 lbs/29 kg what who said that). It's understandable if they didn’t complete a physics thesis paper on exactly how a drop of blood would fall on a cashmere sweater when it’s a humid July day and the victim ate sauerkraut ice cream earlier.

Jokes aside, I’ll say that anyone in the fit to average range would be able to pass as Arei at a glance. That means that David and J are a-okay. Arturo, Charles, Rose, and Whit all get one X for being out of shape. Eden gets XX for being even more out of shape than the out of shape people.

Issue #8: Arei’s Voice

Out of all the voices in the cast, I think that Arei has one of the highest pitches. Thus, if the killer was suddenly called upon to speak as Arei, they would need to possess the ability to speak in a high pitched voice to even have a chance of mimicking Arei.

You could argue that the killer would go in with the intention of not ever speaking as Arei, but you have to remember that this killer was intentionally going out and being around people so that their disguise could be seen. A simple “how are you this morning?” or “did you get enough to eat?” could ruin your plans. You could choose to not respond, but part of the reason why people suspect that the Arei in this conversation isn’t Arei is because she doesn’t speak. AKA, Arei being quiet is out of character for her, and not speaking would immediately raise suspicion!

I’m giving David a XX because his voice is deep enough that I think he would seriously struggle to reach Arei’s pitch. Arturo, Charles, and Whit have deep enough voices that I think that they could easily be caught, but it wouldn't be so unreasonable that they couldn't give it a try. So, they get a regular X. Eden and Rose pass this test with flying colors. J has a lower voice among the girls, but I think she could speak in a higher pitch if she wasn’t so concerned with sounding girly, and her experience with actors might give her an edge.

Issue #9: Arei’s Wit

If “Arei” is forced to talk, then “she” also needs to sound like Arei when she does. Therefore, the killer needs to be someone who could mimic Arei’s personality to a certain degree– AKA, they need to bring the savage energy that Arei brings to her bullying roasts. After all, responding rudely is probably the best way to make sure that your interrogator shuts up and leaves you alone.

I’m just gonna run through this one in alphabetical order. Arturo insults people on the reg, so other than the fact that “Arei’s” insults might be a little more appearance-based than normal, he’d be fine. Charles has been seen trading verbal blows with Teruko, so I believe he could pull it off. David radiates so much theater kid energy that I’m sure he could pull Arei off as if it were the role of his life. Eden… is the first character here that I think might get an X. Her general personality is super nice, and even when she does oppose someone, it’s either out of sad desperation (like when she defends Arei in the second Class Trial) or in a silly way (like when she blackmails Teruko). Even if she decided to be mean for the sake of her murder scheme, I just don’t know if she has the killer instinct to come up with ruthless burns as quickly Arei does. While not as much as Arei, J is pretty blunt and rude, plus she’s had plenty of target practice with Arturo. Although Rose is very good at replicating paintings, I don’t think she’d have the energy or present-mindedness to replicate Arei’s personality, so she gets an X too. Whit has made jokes that come off as rude to others in the past (like Xander in the prologue, or Charles in the laundry scene), and he’s hung out with Arei a couple of times, so I think he could do it.

Issue #10: Arei’s Relationships

We’ve discussed somebody talking to Arei in the abstract, but now I want to get more specific. Right before the Class Trial occurred, Arei made some very notable relationships with people that were not made public knowledge– namely, her emotional reliance on David, her unwavering loyalty to Eden, and her defensive feud with Arturo.

The Arturo one isn’t really a problem, as just being normally mean to Arturo would probably suffice. But what if David came up to her at lunch, put a hand on her shoulder, and asked her how she was doing? If “Arei” started insulting him or manipulating him, he would immediately suspect something was up.

Considering that, as the evidence stands, I’m pretty sure no one character (other than Arei) definitely knew about all three of these relationships prior to the Class Trial, I could give everyone an X. However, there is a way you can bypass this– if the killer was confident that they knew about the way Arei felt about everyone, even if they were actually wrong.

I was already going to give Eden, David, and Arturo a pass for knowing about at least some of the relationships, but under this lens, it’s even more believable. Eden is in the best position, given that she knows about herself and Arturo, and at least saw David there when she ran away. Given that Arei thought of her as a friend, it’s also possible that Arei would have mentioned to Eden that David was the one who motivated her to defend Eden. David knew about Arei’s relationship with himself, and knew that she planned to patch things up with Eden. He didn’t have any reason to suspect anything weird with Arturo, but again, the relationship didn’t change all that much. Arturo would have struggled with David, but he at least knew about himself and Eden. I believe he could have been overly confident in assuming that Arei hated everyone other than Eden, so I’ll let him slide.

However, I think Charles, Whit, Rose, and J would all get an X. Charles is a smart guy who I can’t remember ever talking to Arei one on one, so I find it hard to believe that he believed he knew everything there was to know about Arei’s relationships. Whit spent more time with Arei, but he’s also more emotionally aware– he knows how complex people are, and therefore probably wouldn’t bank on nailing how Arei feels when he’s spent so much time off with Charles. Rose is often asleep and therefore misses out on a lot of the daily life. She sometimes can’t even remember who people are period, so I doubt she’d have the confidence to believe she understood Arei’s relationships. J is definitely the closest on this point, given that she’s interacted with Arei a decent amount and is pretty confident in herself. However, she’s pretty practical (just like her effects), so it’s still enough of a stretch that I’d give her the X.

Issue #11: The Killer’s Skill

This category asks, “how much does this plan rely on the talents included in the killer’s own Ultimate ability?” Don’t get me wrong– not every case, canon or fanon, needs to utilize part of the killer’s Ultimate talent. For instance, Mondo didn’t use any skills involved in being the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader when he killed Chihiro, unless you count his overall strength and attitude.

I’m actually asking this because I think that the disguise plan makes a lot of sense with J’s talent, the Ultimate Effects Artist. As I’ve explained before, J specializes in practical theater effects, which would make her far and away the best at pulling off the visual magic needed to make herself look like Arei. So, what of everyone else?

Think about it this way: imagine if you were playing the first case of Trigger Happy Havoc, and you learn that the blackened threw Hiro’s crystal ball at the buttons to make the Trash Room open. Then, you deduce, aha! Taka must be the culprit! In this universe, you’re right, and Taka is executed. But, wouldn’t it be weird if Taka committed the crime doing something that lined up exactly with Leon’s skill, and there was no focus given to it at all?

If someone was killing Arei and using J’s talent to do it, I would expect that they would be doing it with the intention of framing J. And I don’t think that anything else in this case purposefully makes it look like J did it, even if J actually did do it. Thus, I feel justified in giving Arturo, Charles, David, Eden, Rose, and Whit Xs for this category.

Issue #12: The Killer’s Absence

In my mind, the theoretical point of dressing up as Arei is so that, if you killed or otherwise incapacitated Arei earlier in the murder process, nobody would find it suspicious that she was gone. That, of course, raises another question– what if people find it suspicious that you are gone? Because of that, I think that the killer is someone who would have to be able to slip away from the group relatively unnoticed.

Charles and Whit are giving each other Xs here. Since the beginning of Chapter 2, it seems like these two hang out with each other pretty much 24/7. If one of them was gone, the other would certainly notice. (I’m excluding the possibility of one of them being an accomplice for the other because I find it incredibly implausible for actual murder- and character-related reasons.) Not to mention the incredibly gay funny sequence of events in the second Class Trial where David questions if anybody could really have a solid alibi for the entire day, then Charles says that he was with Whit for the entire day, and David doesn’t even bat an eye. In theory, this also means that Charles and Whit were actually together for the entire day, which means that it probably should be impossible for either of them to have been Arei during the scene at lunch. ...Oops?. Speaking of spending the day together, though…

J and Arturo are also exchanging Xs. If J was busy dressing up as Arei all day, Arturo would have been roaming the halls calling her name. And even if J would enjoy Arturo being gone for a day, she would certainly remember it. She even says as much in the Class Trial:

Given that the “that time period” J is talking about is around 7:30 PM, it’s not fully impossible that either of them could have been Arei at lunch. However, they would still both generally notice the absence of the other, so they get an X.

I think Eden, David, and Rose all get passes, though. Eden is a generally sociable person who likes to talk to others, but she doesn’t have one particular person she’s attached to as much as Charles and Whit/J and Arturo are. The person who would probably be most likely to notice would either be Arei, but she would be dead/incapacitated, or Hu, who was dealing with Nico and Ace at the time. Plus, if she was absent from one conversation, people would probably just assume she was talking to someone else somewhere else. David also generally seemed to get along with people, but also seemed to spend a lot of time alone. Rose… really doesn’t have a lot of close friends, and also isn’t much of a talker. If she was gone, people would probably just assume she was off sleeping somewhere.

Issue #13: The Arturo Pass

Arturo is a plastic surgeon, a profession which looks at the smallest details of a person’s face and tweaks them, even in slight ways, to make them look their conventional best. Or, essentially, if something is even the slightest bit off about Arei’s face, Arturo could probably pick it up from a mile away.

Now, I know that Arturo did not appear in the specific conversation in which Teruko saw “Arei” being quiet. However, there’s no reason that the killer would have to believe that they couldn’t run into Arturo unless they were Arturo, right? Anybody could come into the Cafeteria, so unless the killer did something to stop him, Arturo could have come, too. Since we can’t prove that Arturo and the killer meeting did or didn’t happen, I think we have to assume it was a possibility.

Therefore, I think that all candidates except Arturo fail here because it’s unlikely that they could stand up to Arturo’s scrutiny. Additionally, I would say that J doubly fails because Arturo has spent so much time staring at her face specifically. It’s possible that he could have forgotten what the rest of the casts’ ugly mugs look like, throwing them all into the pile of disgusting rejection. But there’s no way that he wouldn’t be able to recognize Julia’s glowing beauty under the makeup and clothing that makes her look horrifying.

To summarize, Arturo passes his own check because he would have no reason to call himself out, J gets a XX because of how tuned in Arturo is to how she looks, and everybody else (Charles, David, Eden, Rose, Whit) gets a regular X for being ugly in their own unique ways.

Issue #14: The Rose Pass

Same as before, except even worse. Remember when I said we were coming back to the “one inch in either direction could fool most people” thing? We know that Rose can canonically notice 1/16th in (0.16 cm) growths in people, so having literally anything off here could spell death.

I am aware that Rose is sleepy, forgets what people look like sometimes, and is somewhat absent minded. So, let me address those concerns as best I can.

For the first, recall that this is the day where Teruko wakes up four hours late. Therefore, when she enters the Cafeteria, it’s actually closer to noon than it is to morning. Even if the killer was only dressed up as Arei around the time of that meal, we already know that she was awake at that time– Teruko leaves the Cafeteria and runs into Rose around the Gym directly afterward.

For the second and third, we only know that she only forgot about who J was before the first Class Trial. I would expect that after a murder actually occurred, she would be much more aware of her surroundings, and more likely to remember what people look like. She has nightmares about the trial and execution, which every student (except Xander) attended. With her photographic memory, I would expect that she would remember exactly what they looked like at that time. Not to mention that, under my system, everybody has at least one unrelated X. Those are all things that would stick out, which Rose is much more likely to notice than something that’s normal.

That’s my longwinded way to explain that pretty much everyone (Arturo, Charles, David, Eden, J, Whit) is getting an X here. Rose doesn’t because she, again, would not have to worry about running into herself.

The Grand Summary!

So, in the end, we see that (drumroll please…)

DAVID COULD FUCKING PASS AS AREI ARE YOU KIDDING ME–

Ahem. Well, with my analysis today, we have proven that nobody in the cast could have been dressing up as Arei at the time of that lunch conversation… other than David fucking Chiem, apparently. Now, keep in mind that he is just barely hitting under fifty percent here, and that he double failed on the voice.

But, uh, there you go, swap theorists. If anybody was going to swap with Arei, it would have been David. I look forward to seeing everybody’s theories about how David is the true killer of Chapter 2 via crossdressing.

Tip: I am so fucking mad. See ya, everybody– thanks for reading!

[navybrat817]

Mr. and Mrs. Barnes

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky suggests sneaking off at the gala. How can you resist?

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, sex in a closet, dirty talk, possessiveness, established relationship, slight insecurities, mention of breeding, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's a simp for you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I just really wanted this. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t bother to hide his discontent as he looked around at the ballroom. Was it a gala? Fundraiser? What cared? He hated functions like these. People were either there to kiss ass and move up the chain of command or gloat about how well off they were in life under the guise that they were doing good for others. He didn't attempt to converse with any of them, but still had to go as a way to support SHIELD in some capacity and show that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.

At least Steve and Sam were excused from the event due to a mission.

Leaning against one of the pillars and tugging at his bowtie, he spaced out momentarily. No one looked his way, but he still felt judged. Like he didn’t just belong at the event, but amongst anyone. He wanted to go home, get out of his tuxedo, and get the product out of his slicked back hair. He debated sneaking away from some air until he blinked and saw the reason he was truly there: you, the only real person in the crowd of liars and cheaters.

He never understood the expression of clothes clinging to someone like a second skin until you stepped into your floor-length black dress earlier this evening, the fabric enhancing every beautiful curve of your body. His eyes narrowed as you moved around the room and exchanged smiles and handshakes with people. Your aura drew people to you, men brushing against you and their stares lingering for far too long. It served as another reminder of why he didn’t want to go tonight, especially when a General gripped your arm.

If he had a glass in his hand it would’ve shattered.

Convincing you to stay in bed didn't work since you both had to make an appearance, but it didn't mean he wanted you apart from him. “Get over here,” he whispered, craving your attention, needing you close.

As if you sensed him seeking you out, likely feeling the weight of his stare, you turned to meet his gaze across the room. Your eyes sparkled with love that he never thought he’d receive in his lifetime. The kind of love he never wanted to be without again. “Would you please excuse me?” You asked loud enough for him to catch as you removed your arm from the man’s grip. “My husband is waiting for me.”

Your hips swayed as you worked your way toward Bucky, not stopping for any other man who tried to catch your eye. Hearing you call him your husband brought the first smile to his face since he arrived. He still couldn’t believe some days that you wanted forever with him. “I was wondering when my beautiful wife would remember I was here,” he said once you were close enough, reaching out for your hand.

The moment you took it, he stood tall and pulled you against him. He was certain no one else came close to the intimidating vibe he put out, his hold on you possessive as you smiled. “As if I could forget. Practically heard you growling when General Rando touched my arm,” you teased.

“Because he has no right to touch you,” he said, your lashes fluttering as you spun away. His hands guided you back to him. “I know you’re better with people than I am, which is why you’re the one who has to socialize and I’m sorry for that. But you also said I’m not allowed to break any fingers tonight and I won't be held responsible if he tries to touch you again.”

He swore he didn’t have a possessive bone in his body until you sauntered into his life, giving him hopes and dreams and longing.

You laughed at him, a seductive sound that had a few heads turning. “You do know I can break his fingers myself, right?”

He chuckled, leaning close to your ear and tickling your skin with his breath. “I know you're more than capable of kicking his ass. One of your many wonderful qualities,” he whispered. People underestimated you and that was always a mistake. “But I still don't like that he touched you like he wanted to own you.”

You rang a finger along his bowtie. “We all know who owns me and we know I own you, too,” you said, holding up your hand to show him your wedding ring. He tried to ignore how fast his heart pounded at the sight of his ring on your finger, the pledge you two made together. “In a very healthy, non-toxic sort of way, of course.”

He smirked, glancing around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Of course, but maybe we could give everyone a friendly reminder that we’re a happily married and loyal couple.” His voice dropped lower, teasingly. He wanted to make your heart race like his. “Or maybe we could sneak away for a bit. Make this night a little more interesting.”

“Sneak away?” You feigned innocence as you blinked at him. He was certain any innocence you had before he met you was gone thanks to him. “Whatever for?”

“You know what for. It’ll be like that expo we went to a few months ago.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying your face closely. He easily picked up your sharp inhale, the way your pupils dilated and lips parted. It was clear that sneaking off was something that very much interested you. “C’mon, baby. This gala is boring and neither of us want to be here. My idea is much more fun. You know it is.”

He touched your cheek, your skin warm under his hand. He wasn’t able to keep you in bed earlier like he wanted, but the thought of pulling you away and having you right here and now had his stomach fluttering with excitement. “This gala is boring,” you agreed carefully.

“Then let’s make it exciting.” His thumb brushed across your lips and it took everything in him not to push his thumb inside. “You made me come to this thing. Don’t I deserve something for showing up and behaving?”

“I haven't made you come yet.” His muscles went taut when you briefly sucked the digit into your mouth, electricity crackling under his skin. He admired your boldness, how you were unashamedly yourself in front of these people. You didn't and would never care what they thought. “And I didn't make you come to this event, but I can make it worth your while.”

He held your chin and moved close until only an inch separated your faces. Your eyes gleamed with a hunger that rivaled his. The air crackled between you, daring you both to give over to your obvious desires. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” He rasped when you suddenly pulled back and helped move him across the floor in a dance.

“My plan? I thought sneaking away was your idea,” you smiled, guiding you both closer to the open doorway. “But if we can find a closet or dark corner, you can do whatever you want with me. And I’ll even let you fuck my throat first thing tomorrow morning for behaving.”

A rumbling, deep groan escaped his throat. His fingers dug in possessively when he gripped the nape of your neck and tilted your head so he could taste your skin. Your body molding against his, soft and yielding against his solid frame, wasn’t enough. There were too many clothes in the way and he wanted to bury himself deep inside you.

“You drive me crazy, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Barnes.” You bit your lip once he waltzed you for enough away from prying eyes, the heat flaring between you. “I need you.”

Every nerve ending came to life when he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged past your lips, holding you steady as he devoured you. You melted against him, which only brought forth his primal hunger more. His intensity never scared you and he would be forever thankful for that.

You gasped as your back hit a wall, the sounds of chatter and music from the ballroom muffled. Your nails scraped the fabric of his jacket, both of you lost in sensations of lust and desire. As one of your hands continued its journey to his shoulder, the other wandered down his torso and didn’t stop until you gripped his thick erection through his pants.

He abruptly broke the kiss when you gave him a squeeze, his eyes wild. “Fuck,” he breathed, gripping your wrist and pushing more firmly against your hand. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”

With dizzying speed, he spun you so that your back pressed against his front. You panted as his hand ventured through the slit of your dress and brushed along your trembling thigh. “Wait until you feel how wet I am,” you whispered, grinding your hips back against his.

His mouth brushed the exposed column of your throat, alternating between small bites and open mouthed kisses. “Still get wet for me?” He asked, massaging your breast with his vibranium hand and drawing another gasp from you when he pinched your nipple. He marveled at how much he could feel with that hand and how he’d never harm you with it.

“Have you seen yourself? One look from you and I’m soaked.” Your back arched as he bit down again. He wished he saw himself the way you did. “And you’re my husband. That craving for you isn’t going away.”

He rocked his hips against yours, seeking out more contact and friction as his cock throbbed and heart swelled. Marriage wasn’t a constant honeymoon phase. It took work. Effort. Compromise. But you were worth every moment, every struggle, every up and down.

Laughter from a few feet away had him lifting his head, both of you looking toward where the noise was coming from. “Fuck,” he snarled, wanting to scream at whoever it was to go the fuck away.

“There’s a closet around the corner. We just need to pick the lock,” you told him, smiling over your shoulder. “I may have scoped out the place in case this happened.”

He chuckled, utterly in awe of you. “I fucking love you,” he exhaled.

Walking with an aching hard-on wasn’t easy, but he managed to get you both further away from the ballroom. He picked the lock with record speed once you got to the door and moved you both inside. He flipped on the light, wanting to see as much of you as he could. For a moment, you two stared at each other and waited for the other to make a move. He loved the anticipation.

“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Barnes,” you said, reaching for the doorknob to lock it. He was about to ask what he possibly did to upset you when you smirked. “You didn’t mention anything about me not wearing any panties.”

His cock was ready to burst from his pants. “Because that fucking clown out there interupted me,” he rumbled, pinning you against the door and crowding your body. His nose touched yours as he hiked your dress up, desperate to kiss you again. Eager to feel your wetness. “You trust me?”

It was a question he always asked. You put all of yourself into his care, your body, mind, heart, and soul. It was only fair that he made sure you still wanted him to be the one for you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Even then a single lifetime would never be enough for him. He wanted a thousand lives with you.

“Always,” you said, an ache in your voice that he couldn’t resist. He fused his lips with yours, building up the fire all over again when his hand found your damp heat. The most intimate part of you where you allowed him to make himself at home. Your hands shook as you went to undo his pants, wanting to free him. “And you trust me?”

It wasn’t just his heart that contracted. His very soul trembled, wanting to wrap itself up in your light and love. “With everything in me,” he promised, sighing when he pulled his cock free from his underwear. “I’ll worship you later. Those gorgeous tits of yours. Your sweet cunt.”

Once you were home, he’d slip off your dress and give every beautiful inch of your body the attention it deserved. He’d draw a bath for you, too, and hopefully join you so he could simply hold you. But he was desperate for you now. He thought he’d burn if he didn’t have you.

You hiked a leg around him, moving your hips enticingly. There was only so much he could take. And who wouldn’t fall under the tempting spell of your body? “I’m ready for you.” Your soft moan echoed in his ears as he trailed a finger along your slit to your clit, barely touching it. He knew it would shoot small sparks through your body until you begged for more. “I mean it, Barnes. Get. Your cock. In me.”

“My needy little wife,” he whispered against your lips as he gripped the base of his cock and probed your entrance. The breathy sound you made when he began to push in had his blood pulsing in euphoria. It was a wonder he fit some days with how tight you were, but your slick heat stretched and welcomed him every time.

“My needy husband,” you smiled as you enveloped him completely, your fingers curling in his hair.

“What kind of man isn’t needy for his wife?” He began to thrust in deep, deliberate strokes. It matched the rhythm of the music in the distant ballroom, the two of you creating your own sultry dance. Maybe he would go up in flames. At least he’d have you to burn with. “Fuck, your body was made for my cock.”

Each snap of his hips tore more moans and whimpers from your throat and sent shockwaves through his system. You clenched around him with a smile, looking like a debauched angel. “My pussy was made for you, so ruin it.”

He groaned, his pulse beating strongly as his grip tightened on your hips. He fucked you without restraint, just as greedy for you as you were for him. Allowing himself to feel you and what you did to him was everything he was denied for so long. His life had only been order. Pain. You let him lose control. You gave him pleasure. Even a home.

I love you.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you panted, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes closed against the emotions threatening to surface. “I love you, too.”

His pace picked up, urgent, frenzied. At this rate, he might explode into fragments from your declaration and how good you felt. “You love me?” He bit out, his eyes opening and breaths harsh as he felt you clench again.

You cried out, his hand flying up to brace your head before it hit the door. “So much,” you moaned as you gazed at him. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Fierce in love and loyalty, patient and steadfast. He feared some days he’d need you more than you needed him, but you drove that thought from his mind. “I’m yours.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he warned. He couldn’t with the way you looked at him, the way your walls gripped him, knowing you were his.

“Neither am…” Your mouth fell open as your release hit you, your fluids drenching him. It was a wonder to watch you go over the edge in a blissful orgasm. He wanted to be right there with you.

“There you go. Good girl,” he encouraged, your body still tight around his cock. He erupted in one last thrust, his head falling back with an animalistic roar. “Fuck…”

Bucky braced a hand against the door, the other holding you like a lifeline. If only the two of you were at home so he could properly cuddle with you. His breathing remained ragged for a bit as he came down from his high, your breathing beginning to steady, too. He couldn't help but smile as he took in the sight of you thoroughly ravaged and satisfied. “Worth every second of being here,” he sighed, slowly pulling out of your twitching hole. You inhaled when he moved a hand down and swiped two fingers along the mess seeping out of you. “Clean them off for me, baby,” he ordered huskily, bringing them to your mouth.

Obediently, you parted your lips and allowed him to push his fingers in. You swirled your tongue around them to taste your combined essence, moaning at the tangy flavor. He tucked himself away once you finished up, afraid that he’d fuck you all over again if he didn’t get completely dressed. It didn’t stop him from gazing longingly at you as he fixed his jacket.

And it didn’t stop him from imagining your mouth around his cock the next morning.

“Now.” You grimmaced slightly as he helped you steady yourself and straighten out your dress. He knew that look. It was the look you got for a split second whenever the sticky remnants continued to trickle down your thighs. He loved having that claim on you. “How do you expect me to go back to the gala after that?”

“I don’t,” he smirked, his hands moving back to your hips as he snuck in a gentle kiss. “I think it’s time to get you home and back in our bed where you belong. I promised I’d worship you, remember?”

You nodded, your eyes still slightly dazed. “On one condition.”

He titled his head. “What’s that?”

A slow smile curved your mouth, his heart pounding and cock twitching back to life at your answer, “You put a baby in me tonight.”

So, lovelies, was it okay? I feel rusty. And who wants a future fic of Bucky breeding you? Just me? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[satoruan]

FRIENDS WHO PLAY TOGETHER STAY TOGETHER ! ! — ARCANE

( tw ) f!reader. FF pairings. modern AU! masterbation. fingering. squirting. cunillings. dry humping. reader is kinda possessive in Vi’s. some yearning.

featuring. Violet, Caitlyn Kiramman & Mel Madarda

authors note. When you off that honey packet and ur home girl the only one in vicinity. Mel is so 🤭 I can’t she my type to a teeee. Anyways I’m about to go watch Act 2 WISH ME LUCK IM SCARED. Also idk how I feel about Kaits part I could do better 😔

VIOLET 

You and Vi were at another one of your friends' sleepovers. You didn't wanna come, you wanted to spend the Saturday just the two of you, alone. You hated sharing her attention, she was your best friend. You were each other's number one, why did you need other friends when you two were each other's everything. It was late now, almost everyone was sleeping or about to fall asleep when Vi crawled between the bodies of people to where you were laying. You didn’t notice until you felt the familiar embrace of her against your back. Despite yourself, you felt yourself relaxing against her body.  

“Are you still mad at me?” she whispered into your ear before placing a gentle kiss on your bare shoulder. “You know my favorite person. You have nothing to worry about.”  

“Yeah, whatever.” You grumbled. You weren't truly mad anymore but you knew what came next, what Vi did to reassure you that you were special to her. Her only best friend. You weren’t surprised when her hips rocked into your ass, when she pressed her tits against your back nor when her hand traveled underneath your oversized sleep shirt and cupped your breast. 

“Vi…” You sighed nuzzling into the arm underneath your head. She tightened her grip on your breast and rocked her hips into you. You push back harder and soon enough you guys find a rhythm. Your ass pushing down on her hips when she grinds up into you. Her callused palm grazes your nipple and you whine softly. She whimpers into your shoulder, finger going to your nipple when she pulls and twists. You wish her mouth was on you, you wish your mouth was on her. You turn your head to her “I love you the most. My favorite forever.”  

You feel her smile into your shoulder. “You're so beautiful, you know that?” translation: I love you too. 

MEL MEDARDA 

You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend’s tongue was inside of you. Licking you. Her lips were sucking on your clit, her teeth were biting your pussy lips. You could hear how wet you were—you could feel yourself leaking all over her face. “Mel!” You scream out into the dark room before slamming your hands over your own mouth. You don’t want anyone to see you—you don’t want her mother to see you, what a scene she would make. Seeing her daughter nose deep into her childhood best friend. Mel pulls her mouth off your clit with an embarrassingly loud pop. “Do you feel that? This is how you’re supposed to eat pussy darling.” She smiles when you just nod. Afraid that if you remove your hands from your mouth, you might confess something you don’t want.  

Plus, this was just a favor, strictly platonic, you were just friends. That’s why she was eating you out in the first place—you wanted to finally dip your toe into the dating scene but you were scared because you were inexperienced, you didn’t wanna leave your future partners disappointed in your nonexistence skills. And that’s where your best friend came in. Where you didn’t know anything about sex, she knew what felt like everything. Though you never saw her with anyone, she talked like she knew the ins and outs of men and women and she offered to teach you.  

“Now after you use your mouth and get them wet you wanna bring in your fingers, like this.” Mel grabs one of your thighs and pushes it down, giving her a better view of your dripping pussy before using her free hand and pushing a slender finger into you. You gasp. “I know you’ve fingered yourself before sweets, how many fingers have you shoved into this pretty pussy?” 

You whimper, hesitantly removing your hands. “T-two Melly.” You answer bashfully, using the nickname you gave her when you were children. She hums and adds another. You bite your lip, lower abdomen clenching when she curls them into your spongy g-spot. 

“Now pay attention to me alright?” She leans down to place a kiss on your pubs, leaving a trail of light kisses until she reaches your clit. She moves her hand out of you and a fast pace, fingers curling when she knuckles deep. You moan at the feeling of her hand pounding into you.  

She gives your clit a few kitten lips before wrapping her full lips around the swollen area. She bits hard enough for you to wince before she starts sucking. You feel yourself coming apart on her face before you can stop yourself. She hurriedly removes her fingers, mouth sucking you even harder when you feel liquid gush out of you. You grab the back of her head and scream. You can’t stop it, you don’t want to. You throw your thigh over her head and curl your foot into her back, still riding the high. When your pussy stops shooting the mysterious liquid out Mel’s fingers find themselves back inside, four this time. 

You feel tears collecting in the corner of your eyes, as she finger-fucks you. Mel pops back off your abused clit to whisper praises, good girl, you're doing so good, look at how well you take me, you feel heavenly, and when she goes back to playing with your clit you know you don’t want anyone to fuck you unless it’s her. Maybe you can ask her to teach you how to give hickeys next. 

CAITYLYN KIRAMMAN 

You were horny. Cait was horny. You both kept glancing at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking, sussing out what the other was thinking. The movie you guys were watching was a rating away from being straight porn. When it was over you, both decided to call it a night. It was late she said. You guys had class tomorrow you said. When the lights turned off, you both said goodnight and laid down in your shared bed. You two were so close and loved being near each other that on the first day of the semester you pushed your twin beds together. Oh, how you were regretting that idea now. All you wanted to do was fuck yourself. You knew you weren’t going to fall asleep without an orgasm and so after twenty minutes when you thought Cait was asleep, you found your hand traveling into your boy shorts. You sighed in relief when your fingers grazed your throbbing clit. You rubbed it for a few seconds before shoving two fingers into yourself. 

That relief was short-lived when you heard a breathy moan that didn’t come from you. You tensed up and stopped. When you didn't hear anything—maybe she was making those noise in her sleep—you slowly started to move your fingers in and out, palm rubbing against your clit. You bite your lip to stifle a moan and turn onto your back. You could barely move your fingers in and out lying on your side. You part your legs and moan when you finally hit your G-spot. You're so horny but your imagination isn't cutting it. Opening your eyes you turn your head to find the outline of your best friend who was the star in some of your fantasies, her hourglass figure would for sure spark a fantasy. When your eyes adjust to the dark you're shocked to see Cait staring back at you, her blanket pooling at her hips when you could see her hand abruptly stop moving. Your Cait was masturbating too, in the same bed as you. A grin spreads along your face. 

“I-I’m not—”  

“I am.” You whisper, pushing your blanket off you. Her eyes immediately latch onto where your fingers are slowly pushing in and out. Your other hand comes up to your tank top where you push your shirt down. Your breasts spill out. Cait’s face turns into a tomato, eyes widening even more than they already are. She doesn't remove her gaze from your breasts when she starts fingering herself again. You watch her mouth part into a small O and her eyes roll to the back of her head. You imagine what she looks like riding your face and start to speed up. Your other hand twisting your nipples.  

“I-m gonna..” Cait whimper and spasms for a few seconds. You moan at the look on her face, so pleased with herself, and soon enough you're squeezing your eyes and coming too.  

[suksatoru]

𝒶 𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝒹𝓂𝒶𝓃.

╰┈➤ sukuna! x reader! ೃ⁀➷

synopsis; you ask sukuna for a hug. fortunately, he tolerates you enough to grant the wish.

ೄྀ ࿐ fluff, sukuna being absolutely whipped for you! ˊˎ

His palace was huge - but there was one room that made you feel most at home. His chambers were more secluded than one would expect - the dark room had a balcony overlooking the plentiful garden outside, and the walls were hues of dark colors swirling together like a paint brush put in water. It was one of your favorite places to be.

He sat at the edge of the bed, eyes furrowed together in annoyance as he read over the latest list of complaints for him. His role as a king could be stressful at times - and you always know when he's had a particularly bad day by the fierce gleam in his eyes.

"Suk's, your bed is too small." You sigh, flopping down onto the massive mattress as he merely scoffed at your words

The bed in question was actually the biggest bed you'd every slept it. Large blankets were splayed over a few throw pillows (the pink one's were yours - Sukuna would always throw them across the room due to his distaste for the bright color)

"I should be surprised. But I've heard you say things even more absurd than that, pet." He grumbled, the paper that once rested in his hands ignited into flames as he tossed it away.

His back was facing you from where you sat - you could see how tense the muscles were through his robes and you sighed, pressing your cheek against the heart pillow

"I got a question for you, Suk's!" You singsonged, crawling towards him as he turned around with a scowl, obviously still very ticked off and tired

"What? If you ask me for a kiss I will bite your head off." He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest whilst his eyes practically dared you to say the request

Rolling your eyes, you settle beside him with a cheeky smile as you lean towards him

"I want a hug."

You watched his frown falter as he mumbled something about you being too needy

"Can't believe what I'm forced to put up with." He muttered. You know he was trying to scare you with the way he narrowed his eyes at you, but you saw the tiniest bit of softness in his red hues

"Is that a no?" You huffed as he groaned, pulling you into him and wrapping his arms around you. He did not verbalize his feelings often - but by the way he held you against him, you could tell he needed to be held by your tender hands

He loved the way your delicate fingers would always find the nape of his neck, gliding over his skin before they reached his pink hair, your fingers giving him a gentle massage that had him dropping his head onto your shoulder with a sigh

He held you for a while, his hands on your waist as he mindlessly traced his fingers on the small of your back. He let his mind go blank for just a while - allowing himself to be vulnerable in your presence as you soothed him

He hated admitting how much he'd miss you throughout the day. He'd pretend to be disgusted whenever you proclaimed your undying love for him, but he'd always be turning his face away from your cheerful laugh so you wouldn't be able to see his tinted cheeks

"I have duties to do, and I'm forced to sit here and deal with your needs. Pathetic." He mumbled into your skin as you gently smacked his arm, earning a look of absolute disbelief from him. If anyone else had touched him like that - they would've been sliced in half before they could even blink. But he remained quiet as you began talking

"If I am so pathetic, than why do you indulge in my needs? Unless you truly want to?" You question as he looks at you silently, taking in your appearance. You wore your hair pulled back today - your heart shaped face and plump lips catching his eyes as he sends you a look of disinterest

"Your mind is something else entirely. Though no where near the audacity you hold." He snapped, shutting you up quickly as he presses a quick kiss onto your lips - his mouth catching onto yours as he gently pinched your cheek - earning a yelp from you as you pulled yourself off of him

"Get away!" You laugh as he easily grabs onto your legs, pulling you back with a crazed grin

"Can't escape me that easily." He said, gently rubbing his finger over your cheek - the area under your eye a shade of light pink from where he gently held the skin

"I love you Suk." You confess, a cheerful smile on your face as he scoffs

"You are out of your mind if you think you can love me." He says, watching your lips form a pout

"But I do. So much." You coo, and he can't even stop his hands from moving to cradle your face

"Insane. You're an idiot." He mumbled, his thumb brushing over your face as smile

"I am your idiot." You reply with a lovesick smile

"Yes, you are." He says, his once cold heart fluttering at the sight of your innocent smile as he sends you a wicked grin.

[alexthetrashyracoon]

Simon grinned at himself through the mirror like a stupid teenager in the changing room as Price, god bless this man and his father figure behavior, tugged on his tie to keep it straight and clean.

Wedding Day had come. His wedding day had come.

“Mate, you must be shakin’ with excitement to marry the pretty face.” Gaz grinned from his spot on the couch, all three of them dressed in their best attire. Even Soap hadn’t complained once about wearing a tie.

Simon’s mind wandered to you in the other room, he hadn’t seen you since last night, tradition, that’s what they called it.

He hoped you were having a blast, because you had to spend so many days and nights over the wedding plans that he had to get you to the hospital once after you broke down from exhaustion.

“Anyone ever thought big bad ol’ Ghost gets married?” Soap teased as he rummaged through the drawers at the desk. What exactly was he searching? Simon didn’t know or maybe he was too happy to question his best friend’s motives for now, they usually end in chaos and today was meant no chaos.

“I always believed Simon would find the one true love one day.” Price nodded and patted Simon’s chest, telling him he was done with the tie.

“Liar.” Gaz laughed and shook his head. “If you want to know who always believed in you, Lieutenant, that’s me. Ol’ Captain and MacTavish over here said you would die a virgin. We got a bet running for a while.”

Simon wasn’t even surprised or mad, maybe tomorrow, or the week after. But tonight he wanted to be on Cloud Nine and looking through the pink tinted glasses of love. Tonight he would say ‘yes’ to the person he loved the most, the one that kept him alive and sane and put up with his antics.

“I’m getting married.” He smiled at himself in the mirror.

“You’re getting married, son.” Price looked at him, through the mirror, a proud smile hidden under the beard.

A minute later his phone rang, your name and picture on the screen.

“Yes? Everything alright, darling?” Simon asked and looked at Price, worry flashing behind his brown eyes.

“I’m scared, Simon. I… I know this will sound crazy and you probably think I’m mad. But… I wanna run away.” You say, followed by a shaky breath. “But at the same time I don’t wanna run away but stay and marry you. Does it make sense?”

Simon relaxed immediately, you were nervous, as you should be. Just like him.

“How about this then, darling, we run away together until you know what you want.” He grinned and picked up his suit jacket.

Soap and Gaz were gasping at him.

“Let’s run away together and if you still feel like running, we blew off this party. And if not, we come back, say yes to each other tonight and live our happily ever after.”

Gaz asked if he was insane. Soap was looking between Simon and Price, who simply had the time of his life while opening the door for Simon to leave.

“Are you sure… do you… I mean…?” You started to ramble and mutter under your breath.

“Darling… For you I would go through hell and back. I am not complete without you anymore. There was a time before you, sure. But there will be no time after you. Together.” Simon spoke gently and could see through the phone who your cheeks turned pink and tears pricked your eyes. “I’ll be out in two minutes, don’t let me wait.”

(Spoiler, in the end Simon and you got married surrounded by friends and family. Price lost a bet to Laswell because they both know you two and knew you would pull such a stunt. Soap had gained a few more grey hairs than necessary and Gaz was pretty sure this was some kind of punishment, why else would you two pull something like that.)

[phantom-dc]

Bruce sighed.

He never thought he would die like this. When he started out as Batman he was certain he would meet his end fighting the criminal underworld of Gotham. When he got older and life got stranger, he believed he would die fighting off a threat like Joker or Deathstroke, maybe even Darkseid. Being used as a human sacrifice to the King of the Infinite Realms was not on that list, let alone being a willing sacrifice.

Unfortunately, it had been necessary. An asteroid was on collision course with Earth. The asteroid had a colony of sapient alien life on it, so destroying it was not an option. As the League grew desperate, Constantine revealed a similar incident had happened a few years ago. The King of the Infinite Realms had, along with his subjects, turned the Earth intangible and both the Earth and the Asteroid had survived. Constantine isn’t sure why or how, but there are signs an extremely powerful ghost had merged realities and in the process erased the memories of this event from the entire population of Earth! The only reason Constantine knows about it is because a Demon with time-based powers told him during one of their poker games. Summoning this King was risky, as they had no idea what the King would want in return, but this entity seemed like their best bet. Now Bruce thinks they had been wrong.

Superman pulled Bruce out of his thoughts:

“Bruce, are you sure you want to go through with this? If we work together, we might be able to-”

Bruce cut him off:

“No, Clark. You heard Constantine. If we do not hold up our end of the deal, the Ghost King could simply make his ally, this “Clockwork”, reverse time to before the planet was saved. The Earth and the asteroid will still be destroyed, killing everyone on both. This is the only way.”

Clark looked dejected. He knew his friend was right. The King had turned the entire Earth intangible with one hand! He knew the League couldn’t defeat this foe, not without help. Any being that could help them would demand even more bloodshed in exchange, though. One human life in exchange of saving the entire planet had been a steal, according to the Justice League Dark. Clark looked at Bruce:

“Are you going to put on your cowl? This will be the only chance you have to tell the other Leaguers who you are.”

Bruce looked at his cowl. He had taken of his suit, so that his family had something to bury. But to reveal his identity to anyone other than Clark....

“I will keep it on. Even if I die here, I cannot risk anyone finding out my identity and using it to get to my family. I hope the League understands.”

Bruce is pulled into a hug. As Clark holds him as close as he can without breaking bones Bruce cannot help being filled with regret. He wanted more time with his family and, dare he say, friends. This was not how things were supposed to go. Clark pulls away and seems to want to say something:

“Bruce, I just want you to know, I-”

“WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON, B?”

Suddenly Nightwing enters the room, along with the entire Bat-family. Even Alfred and Oracle, donning masks, are there. They looked confused and scared, which made sense. They had all been summoned to the Watchtower, and when they had seen non-field members there as well they knew something was very wrong. Robin stepped forward, demanding an explanation:

“Father, what is happening? Why did you ask for us here? Explain yourself this instant!”

Red Robin looked ready to fight, staff in hand and in a low stance:

Where is the danger? Who is the enemy? Do you have intel for us? ARE YOU BEING MIND CONTROLLED?

Spoiler yanked at Red Robin’s cowl, pulling him out of his paranoid spiral:

“Easy, Captain Paranoid! Let him speak!”

Red Hood was clearly agitated. It was never a good sign if he was asked to the Watchtower:

“The fuck is going on, old man? Are you dying or something? That’s my stick, not yours!”

Bruce steeled his nerves. This was not going to be an easy conversation. How does one tell their family they are going to die and there is nothing to be done about it? Things had been going well for them, too. Dick and he hadn’t fought as often anymore, Jason had not called him names when he patrolled Crime ally last week, Tim hadn’t done anything that could be considered villainous (that he knew of) and Damian had not stabbed any goons for a month. Truly things had been good. Bruce knew this would mess it all up. He feared Jason would start killing again, or Damian would take out his grief on the criminals or Tim would… Well he had no idea. Last time Bruce disappeared Tim blew up so many LoA bases (he still wasn’t sure whether there had been people inside or not), so it was anyone’s gue-

“Sir, could you please elaborate on why we are here? I’m assuming it has something to do with the reason for this dreadful cold, and perhaps your lack of a shirt?”

Bruce sighed. Alfred always knew how to get through to him. With a heavy heart he told them everything. He would sacrifice himself for the survival of both planets. There was nothing to be done about that, and he asked them to please accept his decision. Naturally everyone was outraged. Amidst the chaos, Orphan asked a question:

“Why you?”

Bruce explained that, according to Constantine, the King had asked for a single sacrifice in return: “To feast on a non-magic, non-meta mortal human that will not resist being consumed.” It had pointed specifically at Batman, making sure they all knew which one it wanted. There had been no time to negotiate the prize, so he had accepted. After that it had left immediately for Earth, turning it intangible so the asteroid flew through harmlessly and fulfilling its end of the deal. Orphan seemed to think for a bit, before speaking up again:

“We’ll miss you.”

She hugged Batman. The others, realizing there was nothing they could do, at least not before facing the King, joined in as well. Bruce told them how proud he was of everyone. That they were strong and brilliant, and to please protect each other and Gotham in his stead. He thanked Alfred and Oracle for their help over the years and to please continue to support the others with the same strength they used to help him. After a moment they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Wonder Woman had entered the room. With a saddened expression, and a dented doorhandle that showed her tension, she had come to collect her friend.:

“Batman. It’s time.”

Bruce nodded at her. Thanking her, he tried to leave with her, but was stopped by Alfred. After a quick hug, Alfed offered Bruce a cookie from the plate he had brought along:

“Every man deserves a final meal. I’m sorry this was all I have to offer.”

Taking a grateful bite, Bruce allowed himself to indulge in the taste of home.

“Thank you, Alfred. This means more to me then you realize.”

Steeling himself once more, Batman and the others followed Wonder Woman to the main room. It was the largest room in the Watchtower, several stories high with observation platforms, security screens showing cities all over the planet and a teleportation platform. As they approached the room, Batman was surprised by the cold that radiated form the entrance. Opening the door the source of all the cold and grief became visible to the group. Signal had to shield his eyes:

“What the hell!?!”

There it was, the High Ghost King of the Infinite Realms. A giant being, which had been so large they had to move to the observation platform to speak with it. Even then it towered over the heroes. It’s skin impossibly dark, with constellations spotting its tail & torso. The stars converging on its lower arms, making it look like it was wearing glowing white gloves, the same as a strange symbol on his chest that seemed important. The stars on its neck blending seamlessly with its hair, yet leaving its head completely dark aside from a few little spots on its face. The only facial feature they could make out where 2 Lazarus green eyes, focused on the new arrivals. On its hand, a ring with a skull on it that had freaked out the Lanterns. On its head a dark crown covered in patches of frost, and its own Aurora Borealis spreading from it. The room had already been partially covered in frost simply from the King’s aura. Power emanated from it, which had caused several members that had been dead and revived before to kneel on reflex, which was frightening even if they managed to get up on their own again.

Martian Manhunter had tried to peek in the Kings mind, hoping to find a way to convince the King to spare Batman, but he had been unsuccessful. As soon as he tried his knees buckled, and he had been pushed out. Ever since the Ghost King had radiated frustration. Now, as Batman entered wearing only his cowl and some spare pants, that frustration seemed to spike dangerously. Was the King upset he had been left to wait for his offer?

"What the fuck is this? I didn’t ask for a striptease, especially from some old Frootloop!”

“Constantine, what’s wrong? What is it saying?”

Batman was worried. He had not expected more anger from the being when presented with the offering. Looking at Constantine, he saw the magician frantically looking through the pages of his books, desperately looking for a translation.

“Hang on, mate. I’m doing my best here! Ehrm… no, that’s not right… Something about mating? Maybe he likes you, Bats. He also said something about “the absence of clothing” so…

Suddenly he is cut off by a strange sound coming from the Ghost King. It makes a strange motion with its body and its giant maw opens, as more of those sounds escape. It reminds Robin of Alfred the Cat when he has a hairball. However, there is more sound in the Watchtower now. The Red Hood is clutching his stomach as he is doubling down in laughter.

“HAHAHAHA!!! WHAT? HOW THE FUCK DID YOU TRANSLATE THAT BADLY? HOLY SHIT!”

The Ghost King stops making the noises, and it’s eyes snap to Red Hood. It moves it’s head closer to him, casually passing it through the barrier Constantine had put up. Constantine’s swears in surprise, but the King seems not to care as it “speaks” to Red Hood:

"Oh, thank the Acients! Someone who understands Ghost Speak! Can you PLEASE help me and translate for us? This trench coat guy is terrible, and somehow twists everything I say in the worst way!"

Red Hood relaxed, looking up at the Ghost King’s giant head.:

“Sure man, no problem. I’m pretty sure he is using like 3 different dictionaries to get this far. I saw him first translate Ghost to Pixie, Pixie to Gnome and Gnome to Demon before telling us in English! So, what’s up?”

Batman was stunned. The Ghost King actually face palmed. What the heck was going on?

"Of course he is. That explains why it sounds like he is putting this through Google Translate 4 times! These guys summoned me to save the Earth, which, totally cool. Happy to help! But a summons makes it official, which means I need to get an offering. I can’t leave without it or I face a mountain of paperwork from some stupid bureaucratic eyeballs for not following proper procedure. But I can always ask something simple and get it over with. No biggie, right? WRONG.”

Red Hood actually grabs a chair to sit on. Not even in a somewhat respectful way, he is sitting on it backwards, casually leaning on it.

“Oh, boy. How badly did they fuck up? Gotta be big since Batman over there is ready to be eaten?”

The King glares at Constantine, who puts up his bravest “time to out-bollock a Eldritch Demon” face. The King is not impressed:

"Man, I asked, and I quote: “I’d like to eat a regular human meal that doesn’t fight back, like that guy would eat!” I wanted it to be clear I didn’t want blood, or corpses or virgins or any of the other horrible things stupid cults try to give me! I just wanted a burger or something! But then Mr. triple dictionary over there somehow turns that into: ‘’I wish to feast on a non-magic, non-meta mortal human that will not resist being consumed, and it must be that one.” I’ll admit I was pointing at one of the non-supers, but that didn’t mean I wanted to eat him! I just wanted to make sure it was normal food, something that doesn’t fight back!”

Red Hood looked confused, asking if the King’s food usually fights back. The King rolls it’s eyes:

"In life, I lived with mad scientist parents who treated lab safety as a suggestion at best and a chore for teens at worst. Put enough samples in the fridge and you get a whole new type of Thanksgiving trauma. Dang, I’m getting even more hungry. I’d love some turkey right now. Could you get them to bring me some food? That way I can have my sacrifice and leave…”

Red Hood stands up. He asks if the King can wait a few more minutes, claiming that after all that frustration he deserved something better. Getting a nod from the Ghost King, the Red Hood suddenly shouted over the platform railing towards the waiting Leaguers:

“FLASH! Get your squad up here, and bring pen & paper! I got a job for y’all!”

Zooming up every member of the Flash family gets a list of things to get and a warning not to tell the Bats what’s on it, or Red Hood will shoot them in the knees. Looking at the lists, they quickly caught on what was going on and promised they wouldn’t tell. This was way too funny! Red Hood does a fake bow to the King, clearly amusing himself.

“Don’t worry, your Hungry-ness! Your sacrifice is being prepared! Anything else we can assist you with?”

The Ghost King seems to tilt its head in amusement. Whatever Hood was doing, it was working, which honestly was the only reason nobody had tackled him to the floor.

"Actually, if you could get that Frootloop to put on a shirt that would be great. He is shivering and honestly, I’m worried he’s going to poke someone’s eye out with a nipple. Why is he shirtless anyway? Please tell me he wasn’t actually trying to seduce me or something, he’s old enough to be my dad! Gross!”

This caused Red Hood to again double over in laughter. Everyone was confused, what could possibly be so funny in this situation? Constantine had frantically tried translating during their conversation, but it had gone too fast for him. He gave up when the King mentioned eyeballs and seduction, accepting he wouldn’t get anywhere like this. Batman however couldn’t resist his need to know everything anymore.

“Hood, report! How are you communicating with the entity?”

Red Hood turns to Batman, walks past him and towards Alfred, grabbing one of the cookies he had brought with him. As he walks back and hands it to the Ghost King, he starts to explain:

“Honestly, not sure. It feels instinctive, like a second mother-tongue. Pretty sure it’s some sort of “dead-guy-language” you learn when you die. Speaking off: Turns out Constantine is a VERY unreliable translator. Spooky here is actually pretty chill! He used you as an example to make sure we knew what he wanted, not to demand you as a sacrifice. He is in fact pretty ticked that you guys tried to feed B to him. Speaking of: Batman? Put a shirt on, for fucks sake. You look like you’re going to freeze your tits off.”

This earned a round of giggles from Green Lantern & Green Arrow. Now that the tension had left the room, other Leaguers also smiled in relief. Besides, it’s always fun to see Batman being the butt of a joke. Sure enough, Batman let out a frustrated sound, that got the rest of the Bats to join in on the fun. They understood that their dad in fact felt rather silly right now, which meant that they had more to gossip about soon. Constantine now was wondering what Hood was up to:

“Mate, I did my best! Sorry for not being fluent in every language in existence. What the hell did you send the Flash to get? The bloke is a scientist and denies magic when it’s right in front of ‘im! What could they possibly get that I couldn’t-”

At that moment, the Flashes zoom out of the Zeta tubes and zoom across the observation deck. After a few moments of red and yellow blurs, the deck is covered with tables filled front to back with food! Picking up a receipt that fell to the floor, Batman realizes this is take-out from all over the world. Seeing a puddle of Lazarus water grow on the floor, he looks up. The Ghost King is actually drooling! Red Hood steps aside and gestures to the feast:

“Welp! There is your sacrifice! One. And I also quote: “regular human meal that doesn’t fight back, like “that guy” would eat!” Well, more of a feast then a meal, but I’m sure a big guy like you can finish it, and you can always take home the rest I guess. Bon Appetit!”

Opening his giant maw, the Ghost King digs in. Well, as much as he can. He actually looks kind of silly eating everything with a tiny fork. Still, judging from the purring sound emanating through the Watchtower it’s to the Kings liking.

"DUDE, THIS IS SO GOOD? I need to know these restaurants! You want a bite for helping me out? You saved me SOOO much annoying paperwork, I was about to bail!”

Picking up a plate of karaage, Red Hood took of his helmet revealing a second mask underneath and dug in as well:

“Don’t mind if I do, this smells fantastic! Oh shit, you should try this stuff, it’s great!”

Red Hood being allowed to partake in the offering so casually caused Constantine to do a double take. He realizes he seriously misjudged this entity. Still, that didn’t explain the horrific stories about him. He would need to do some digging into that, maybe with Hood as a translator. For now he takes a swig of his drink. The world was saved, no one died or lost their Soul and he didn’t make any new enemies he thinks. Plus, Batman felt like an idiot, and that always made the Brit smile.

All in all a good day!

[sinofwriting]

I ❤️ MILFS - Max Verstappen

Words: 9,747 Summary: Max wasn’t too sure who the woman was that was always with Logan, but he was sure that he wanted to get to know her. Note(s): Sargeant Reader, Age Gap, Older!Reader, Logan and Oscar are both 20 during the 2023 season, not 22. The 2023 driver standings are different (I am giving Logan the season he should have had). Reader has the nickname Pan (short for momma panther). Logan is sweetheart, Max is head over heels in love. I’m gonna be honest I never thought this fic would get written or finished. I got the idea for it back in December but only started writing it on March 16th. And it would have never happened without @burningcupcakefire & @pucksandpower. Thank you both so much for all your help. (also if anyone wants to see more of Max and Pan, let me know)

Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse

Max remembers the announcement of Oscar’s arrival to F1, the drama and hilarity of it. Sometimes he sees the kids name and has to stop himself from laughing. No nineteen-year-old had any business being that funny.

Max doesn’t remember much of Logan’s announcement to F1. Only that he was young as well, being the first American in forever, and Williams' quick admission that they hadn’t wanted to sign, had wanted to wait another year.

He wishes now that he had paid more attention.

There’s a woman standing in the William’s garage, on Logan’s side. She’s clearly there for him, with the similar pass that his trainer has around her neck, and the way her eyes intently follow Logan’s movements around the garage as he talks to the mechanics and engineers.

She also happens to be the most beautiful woman Max has ever seen.

—

She can’t help but clutch at Benny’s arm the whole race, terror gripping her along with pride.

Benny chuckles when the race comes to an end, Logan doing his cooldown lap and she finally lets go. “And just think you’ve got over twenty more races of this.”

Her nose wrinkle and a hand goes over her heart that’s thudding. “Please, Benny.”

He chuckles again but pats her shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

“Not gonna tell me it gets easier?”

He snorts. “No. This is far worse than F2 or F3 and we still were both scared watching him out there. We’ll never know a day of peace now.”

She sighs, watching the screens as it shows the top three getting interviewed and in the background you can see some of the drivers getting weighed. “He’s going to be sore and in pain.” It makes something clench inside her, the knowledge that Logan would be in pain. It was part of the job, the aches and the bruises, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to know.

“I’ve already got everything set up as soon as he’s back and debriefs are done.”

Her eyes catch on the screen showing where all the drivers placed and tears prick her eyes and she shakes her head. “Twelfth in his first grand prix. I can’t believe it.”

The garage is filled with chatter as the team celebrates getting their first points of the season and their rookie driver performing better than they expected. The way they don’t even try to whisper it makes her jaw twitch. She was grateful that Williams was giving Logan his dream, but she didn’t like how they were going about it. Quickly and publicly stating that they didn’t want to sign Logan yet, wanted to wait a year. And now this.

A light nudge to her ribs makes her unclench her jaw and she gives Benny a grateful smile.

Both of their attention is quickly drawn however to the two Williams drivers entering the garage, the space filling with cheers.

She smiles as Logan grins at the team, basking in the smiles they have on their faces for him and Alex, the pats on the back he’s getting. The grin turns to a beam when he spots Benny and her and he quickly bounces over to them.

A laugh leaves her at the way Benny pulls him into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet a little. “Proud of you, kid.” He murmurs.

She can’t hear what Logan says, but he’s put down and it’s her turn.

She wants to bundle him up in her arms, hold him and not let go, but doesn’t want to embarrass him in front of his team, so she raises a hand and pushes his hair out of his face. “You did amazing, baby.”

He smiles at her, all bright and shiny eyes and then he’s wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tight and she’s quick to return it, rubbing his back.

“You did so good, Logan. So good. I’m so proud.” She tells him again, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head.

“Thank you, momma.” He tells her, hugging her tight for another moment before letting her go.

She smiles up at him and god, that makes her heart ache. Her son, her baby, taller than her somehow. She woke up some days and still wasn’t sure where the time had gone and how he was taller than her shoulders. “Go shower and debrief and then Benny and me will take care of you, yeah? And I’ll get your favorite ordered to the hotel, ready as soon as you get there.”

He beams at her again, darting forward to press a quick to her cheek before starting to rush away. “Best mom ever!” He calls over his shoulder and she laughs.

—

Y/N Sargeant will never forget the first time she held her son, only then at nine years old, he had been her cousin.

Logan was small, wrinkly, pink skin, and full of small cries. She could remember staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand how he could be what her baby dolls were made to be like. She remembers her mama having her sit on the couch after asking her if she wanted to hold him and how she had quickly nodded, hoping that maybe holding him would somehow make him look better.

She remembers the sudden nerves that built in her stomach as her mama started to hand him to her. Remembers being scared that she would drop him, remembers thinking how stupid it would be if he was still weird to look at like this.

And she remembers finally holding that and it disappearing. His small cries, no more, his wriggling calmed down, and his wrinkles no longer looked weird but cute. She remembers holding him for the first time and feeling unconditional love for the first time in her life.

—

She’s twelve when she realizes that her uncle and aunt don’t like Logan much. It didn’t make sense to her then, still doesn’t know. Because they liked Dalton just fine, but not Logan.

She remembers asking her dad about it. Asking him why they didn’t love Logan, but loved Dalton and worse, she remembers the pained look in his eyes as he realizes that his child picked up on what he and his wife had as well.

It’s the first hard adult conversation she has with her parents and it’s fitting that it’s about Logan, as they sit her down and talk to her about how not all parents love their kids, and how sometimes that includes them only loving one child and not the other.

—

She remembers clearly the first time Logan calls her mom.

It’s her fourteenth birthday and she’s got the four-year-old in her lap as she sits in a rocking chair, reading her English essay aloud for him. Logan’s eyes are closed, head resting on her chest, over her heart, and his little fingers of his one hand are curled in her shirt right by his head.

She wants to sit there forever, reading to him as she rocks back and forth. But she wants another slice of cake before Martha puts it away and Logan needs to sleep in his bed where he can stretch out fully and drool on his pillowcases and not her shirt that Martha will surely tut over but then smile fondly when she sees Logan doing it all over again.

Setting the essay down on her dresser, she runs her now free fingers through his blond hair. “C’mon Logan, time for bed.”

He grumbles, fingers tightening on her shirt and she can feel it being pulled slightly.

“You can put on your new race car jammies, cuddle with Ello.”

He shakes his head, squirming a bit in her lap as he tries to shove himself closer. “Stay with you.”

“Oh, baby.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Y’know I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”

His head shakes again and she has to bite her lip as his head hits her collarbone. “Want cuddles, momma.”

Her heart thuds painfully in her chest at the name he called her, tears pricking her eyes. “Okay, baby. Let's get you in jammies, grab Ello, and you can stay with me tonight.”

—

She’s only been eighteen for ten hours when she asks her father for the near impossible.

“I want custody of Logan. I want to adopt him. And I need your help to make that happen.”

He stares at her, no expression on his face, not even shock.

“He’s,” She pauses, jaw twitching and tears springing to her eyes. “He wants to do karting, just like Dalton. And he’s good at it. I’ve taken him. They told him no. They haven’t bought him clothes in two years. They don’t know a single thing about his school, his grades, his teachers. He hasn’t called David dad since he was six and he hasn’t called Madelyn mom since he was four.” Her hands are formed into fists, nails digging into her palms as she speaks. “I have money, I can provide for him. I’ve got my shares of the company now and I’ve got my inheritance from Grandma Talls. But I know that a judge won’t sign off without some influence.”

“Madelyn and Daniel?”

She leans forward in her seat, a spark of hope filling her. “I already talked to them, they’ll do it.”

One of his hands comes up to rub at his mouth, sighing. Then it drops to open up one of his desk drawers and he’s pulling out a bunch of papers, dropping them on the desk in front of her.

“I figured this was gonna happen and I knew after you talked to them and they called me. They signed away their rights three hours ago. Michael and Lily are waiting outside to come in so you can sign the papers.”

Tears slipped from her eyes, joy wrapping itself around her entire being from his words, the fact that he called their family lawyer to be on standby, that he and her mother were so supportive. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

He smiles at her. “I couldn’t say no to you. Not when it comes to Logan. I’m way too young to have a grandkid, let alone one that’s eight, but I made my peace with that years ago.”

“Thank you.”

—

Max watches the free practice session coverage intently as they focus on the Williams garage, nose wrinkling when they focus on Logan’s trainer, Benny and then James Vowles. Could it really be possible that they never once caught a shot of her? He starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach that he's gonna have to go on Twitter when the camera moves and suddenly she’s there and he’s scrambling for the tv remote, pressing the pause button just before the camera switches to an overhead shot of the Bahrain track.

His heart skips a beat as he gets his first good luck at her. Her pretty eyes and smile. His eyes then travel down, wanting to know her name and his heart drops.

Y/N Sargeant, Mother of Logan Sargeant.

Fuck.

—

“Momma Panther!” Oscar greets to the confusion of other drivers as Logan and a woman enter the room.

Lando’s eyebrows are raised as he watches Oscar stand. Watching as his teammate claps Logan on the back, before giving him an actual hug. Before he then hugs the woman as well, whispering something to her that makes her laugh.

Pulling away from her, Oscar grins when her hand comes up to pat his cheek for a second. “Thank you for the invite, Os.”

“Of course.” He sends a fond look to Logan, who's standing awkwardly by the table.

“Y’know Logan and you are always welcome.”

She makes a humming noise.

“C’mon, let me introduce you to everyone.”

Turning around, he smirks at the table. “Everyone, Logan.”

Charles lets out a laugh, as the others chuckle.

He gestures to her, “This is Momma Panther or Pan.”

“Y/N or Pan.” She corrects, playfully shaking her finger at Oscar. “I only let the F2 boys call me Momma Pan.”

He sighs. “Okay, this is Y/N. Logan’s mom.”

Lando coughs, water going down the wrong pipe. Fernando’s eyes are wide as he looks at her. Charles, George, and Alex are all nodding. Max has a weird expression on his face and Carlos looks dumbfounded.

“She,” Carlos points at her. “Is his,” he points at Logan. “Mother?”

Logan moves away from the table to stand by his mom, easily melting into her side at all the attention. The action makes Oscar smile, all too used to the easy affection between the mother and son. “I got pretty lucky right?”

She shakes her head. “I’m just happy you weren’t a difficult child.”

Logan both blushes and preens at the same time.

Carlos shakes his head, disbelief still clear.

“Please, sit.” George says after a moment. “We haven’t ordered yet.”

The seasoned drivers and her watch amused as both Oscar and Logan usher her to sit first. Oscar easily then lets Logan sit next before sitting beside the American. The two of them sharing a grin after.

It makes her shake her head as she turns her attention to the menu, tuning out the sound of conversation picking back up.

The gentle sound of a throat clearing makes her glance to her left.

The current two time world champion smiles a bit awkwardly at her. “Have you been here before?”

She shakes her head, turning her head a bit to look at him better. “No. To Australia of course, for Logan’s races and to visit Oscar once, but not here.”

He nods and she can’t help but notice the way he swallows harshly. “We started coming here in 2021, it’s good food. Good drinks.”

She laughs, “good gin and tonic?”

He flushes a little, but laughs. “Yes. Very good. Heavy on the gin.”

She nods, “I think I’ll have one of those then.”

Her eyes drift back to the menu, not even wincing at the prices next to the dishes. This was nearly cheap compared to where she had been forced to eat growing up.

“Momma, can we,”

“Yes.” She answers before Logan finishes, already knowing what he’s asking. “Also you two, no hard liquor. We have plans tomorrow.” She continues, still looking at the menu.

They wouldn’t get drunk from a few drinks, but she had a feeling that Lando would try to instigate something again with Oscar, making the poor kid so drunk he could barely walk, again. And she didn’t mind people thinking that she was overbearing with Logan and even Oscar. The boys knew that if they really wanted to do something they could, even if she said otherwise. It was one of the nice things about being an adult.

Logan wrinkles his nose, glancing at the drinks part of the menu, before grinning. “They have it.”

Oscar glances at what he’s pointing at, shaking his head. “You and your goddamn obsession.”

“We come here like once a year.” Logan defends. “And no other country sells it.”

It’s not until after the server leaves, all of their orders taken, that conversation starts again.

“So, Mrs. Sargeant,” Lando starts.

“Just Y/N or even Pan.” She sends a fond look to Oscar who had made that nickname stick. “And I’m not married.” She says, amused.

“Ah.”

“Not married.” Fernando shakes his head. “Now that doesn’t sound right.”

She looks at him amused. “Don’t believe in premarital sex?” She teases.

The older driver laughs and so do the others. “No. Just hard to believe that you aren’t married. You are a very gorgeous woman.”

“Thank you.”

“So,” Lando starts again, giving Max a weird look seeing how his friend is gripping his glass of water. “Will you be coming to all the races?”

She nods. “Yes, I have since Logan started his career. Haven’t missed one.”

Logan shakes his head, grinning at her. “Nope, not one.”

“Your work allows you to do that?”

Her lips press together for a second to try and hide her smile at the gentle but obvious fishing they are doing. “I have shares in some companies and a very generous inheritance. So, no true, real work.”

“You do some work for Grandpa when we’re in the states.”

“I organize his desk for him, which he then messes up as soon as he sits back down at it.”

“You do not mind the constant travel? It is quite tiring.” Charles asks, curious.

“No. And once I got Logan in karting, I promised him that I’d make it to all of his races. Maybe in a few years, I’ll stop going to all of them, but I am part of his team as well.”

“Manager?”

“God, no.” She shakes her head at Carlos’ assumption. “Cook slash nutritionist. Benny, his trainer is amazing, also doubles at being a physiotherapist for Logan, but he doesn’t know how to cook to save his life. So I make their meals.”

“Mine as well.” Alex pipes in. “They’re truly amazing, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

“Can you make mine again?” Oscar asks, leaning over Logan a bit to look at her. “I’ve missed having them.”

“Sure.” She laughs. “Get me your new sheets before the next race, yeah?”

“Done.”

—

Max watches from the corner of his eyes as she takes her first sip of her gin and tonic. Her brows raise a bit when the drink hits her tongue and he has to force his eyes up, to not focus in on her lips, to think about them and what they’d feel like on, he shakes his head. Forcing the thoughts, the ideas away.

“Very heavy on the gin.” She whispers, turning a bit to look at him.

He rubs his hands against his jeans. “Do you like it?”

“It’s nice.” She smiles.

Relief fills him. “Good.”

He continues to look at her, wanting to tear his eyes away but being unable to. She was simply lovely. And getting this closer look at her, he can’t believe that she’s a mother, or at least a mother to a twenty-year-old. It didn’t seem possible. She looked barely older than him. Not at least thirty-five. She was probably more like Fernando’s age as well and he glances at the fellow two world champion, more disbelief filling him. Because how could the two be close in age at all?

—

Logan sighs as he collapses face first onto Oscar’s bed. Laying there for a solid minute before groaning and turning his head.

“Dinner was nice.”

Oscar hums and he can feel the bed dip beside him.

“You seemed a bit more relaxed.”

“No media, and you and Pan were there. A bit more relaxed.”

Logan scoffs. “Yeah, because you were so tense with media before.” As he speaks, he reaches out to lay a hand on Oscar’s thigh, giving the muscle a squeeze. “It’s nuts, isn’t it? I mean we all got told that the media was so much more, so different, but…” He trails off, shaking his head.

“Yeah.” Oscar sighs and then he’s laying beside Logan, the American luckily moving his hand off and away from the other’s thigh before he lies on it.

“Y’know I have no personality, apparently.”

Logan snorts, eyes opening when he hadn’t even realized he had closed him. The Australian driver also has his head turned so they’re looking at each other. “What? Have they never seen a Prema video?”

He shrugs as best as he can.

“I’d take that over my apparent frat boyness.”

“You? A frat boy?” Oscar laughs.

Logan sighs as he thinks a bit more about it, the mood turning a bit serious. “I just hope momma hasn’t seen it.”

“What happened?”

“She’s just worried. Thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s wondering if she did a good job with me, done enough for me. And she’s given me everything y’know. I can’t imagine what I’d be like with them as my parents.”

Oscar moves a bit closer, just a few inches between their faces now. “You’d still be amazing, still great. Maybe a frat boy.”

The American rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“I think Fernando has a thing for her. For Pan.” He clarifies.

“What?”

“I mean, just during the dinner y’know, he kept looking at her. And him calling her gorgeous.”

“Well, he’d be dumb and blind to not notice that.” Logan scoffs, rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Oscar.

“I’m being serious.” The younger laughs, poking him lightly. “I think Alonso has a thing for her.”

Logan’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Dude, no. That’s gross. Momma isn’t even thirty and Fernando’s like forty-three. And isn’t he dating that journalist?”

Oscar’s brows press together. “What journalist?”

“The one that gave Fred shit.”

“I thought she died?”

The two look at each other, both baffled.

Logan thinks again of the journalist he’s seen around Fernando and the one that all of the Prema drivers, former and at the time current, had avoided or given shit statements too. They did look a bit different now that he really thought about it. Fernando’s journalist slash girlfriend didn’t have a fucking complex.

“Different journo.” Logan mutters. He then blinks, “wait, she died?”

“Mate, you didn’t hear about that?”

“No!”

“She was supposed to be at Spa, remember. And we all were relieved when she wasn’t there. She died, car crash or something, I can’t remember.”

“How do I not remember this?”

Oscar shrugs as best as he can while laying down. “I don’t know.”

It’s silent for a moment, “you don’t think,”

“No.” Oscar shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean, yeah no.”

“Right.” He looks up at the ceiling.

“Okay, so Fernando is out of the running.”

Logan groans, “Os, no.”

“Look he clearly has eyes, but if he’s dating someone he’s out. He wasn’t the only one looking.”

“Oscar, please, it’s my mom.”

“She’s like my mom too, which is why we have to talk about this.” Oscar insists, wriggling closer to Logan. Their sides completely pressed together and when Logan turns his head to look at the other, their noses nearly brush.

He looks at Oscar’s face, all earnest and caring and sighs. “Fine. Charles was looking, but he only dates one type, so safe from him.”

“Lando was looking.”

Logan snorts, “I thought this was for potential dates, not another kid.”

He laughs, their noses brushing together from the movement. “Okay, no Lando. Max.”

“He kind of looked weird when you introduced her.” He frowns.

“I saw that too.”

“But he also got all blushy when they talked.”

“The drivers do know, I mean Alex knows that she didn’t like birth you, right?”

Logan’s frown deepens. “Of course. I mean, it’s not super well known, but it’s a little hard to believe that she naturally had a kid twenty years ago.”

“Thought so.” Oscar then chuckles. “Imagine, them thinking that she did, though. Just thinking she’s got some sort of insane skin care routine.”

—

“How in the hell does she look like that with a twenty-year-old kid?”

“I know right?” Alex says, looking at Carlos. “It’s insane.”

Charles pokes at his own cheek. “I think I need to ask her for advice, what products she uses. I want to age like her.”

“We all want to age like her.” George agrees.

“What are you saying?” Fernando frowns.

A few of them share a look, but Charles and Max share a different one. “Mate, you’ve got wrinkles and all these lines.” Max says. “I mean those are natural, but look at her. The skincare helps.”

Fernando frowns, “Lines?”

Charles touches at his own lines, “see lines. From smiling, laughing, frowning. All good things, very nice. Just not uh,” his brows furrow drawing a blank.

Lando snorts at his struggle. “You just want to help your skin. Keep it healthy.”

The older driver makes a humming noise, considering.

—

Her breath is caught in her throat, eyes wide as she watches the screen. Her heart feels like it is beating in double time. She wants to look away, doesn’t want to watch in case something horrible happens, but she can’t. Because Logan just overtook both Magnussen and Ocon in the same lap. Logan is in 9th. Logan is in a point scoring position with only five laps of the race left. Logan might score his first formula 1 points at his home race, at his actual home race, at his first ever home race.

Her hands are shaking, fingers locked together as she presses them against her mouth, trying to breathe, praying that Logan won’t fall back out of the points.

She doesn’t even notice that he’s lessened that gap to Pierre until suddenly he’s overtaken the other French driver, just three laps later. “Oh my god.”

“Fuck.”

“Benny,” she whispers, and one of her hands is dropping so she can clutch at the older man. “Benny, I think,”

“He’s gonna do it.”

And sure enough he does it. Logan holds his place in front of Pierre and finishes in 8th.

“Yes!” The whole garage is cheering and she’s wrapping her arms around Benny, laughing when the trainer lifts her.

“He did it! He did it!” She cheers.

The garage quiets though as Gaetan starts to speak on the radio.

“Logan, you are on your cooldown lap.”

“Got it. Where’s Alex?”

She winces at the question, one of her hands grips at Benny’s shoulder as he sets her back down, the other holding onto her headphones that miraculously didn’t get thrown off her head or disconnected when celebrating. “Alex is P14, P14.”

It’s quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’m sorry we didn’t get any points today, next race is ours right? The car felt great.”

Both of her hands fly up to her mouth.

“Logan.” Gaetan’s voice is full of disbelief and laughter. “Mate, you finished P8. You got us points. You got your first points.”

She can see him react to the news, the car jerking underneath him for a second, before he wrangles it back under control.

“What? What do you mean?”

“You finished in P8. Clean race, finished ahead of both Alpines and Magnussen.”

“Holy fuck.”

The garage fills with laughter at his reaction and tears start to build in her eyes.

“You guys,” his voice breaks. “Thank you guys so much. This was you guys, the car felt great, really.”

She watches as James hops on the radio. “This was you as well, Logan. Amazing drive today.”

“Thank you, James. Thank you so much for this.”

His mechanics, Benny and her, quickly go over to where the cars are parking, watching as Logan slots it into place. He’s a little shaky as he gets out of the car and he’s about to dart towards them but someone from the FIA, is ushering him to the scale.

His reluctance is clear even with his helmet on, but he goes. Letting them take his weight and as soon as it’s written down, he’s stepping off and away, fumbling with his gloves and then his helmet.

There’s an awed grin on his face, tears in his eyes, and seeing it makes the tears that have built in her own fall.

His gloves and helmet tumble to the ground as his mechanics and Benny surround him, celebrating his points.

Logan laughs when they finally let them go and his eyes light up when he sees her and he darts to her and she easily welcomes him into her arms.

“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him, squeezing his sweaty body close before running a hand through his hair. “You did amazing.”

“I did it, momma.” His voice is weak and she can feel tears hit the skin of her neck where his head is buried.

“You did it.”

—

“Logan did amazing, it was a good drive.”

She blinks in surprise at the voice, turning in her barstool to look. “Max?”

He smiles at her, cheeks flushed. “He did really well.”

“He did.” She agrees before patting the stool next to her.

His smile widens as he takes the seat.

“I didn’t realize that Red Bull was in the same hotel.” Maybe she should have since she had spotted a few Red Bull polos, but she figured it was fan gear.

“I think Aston is here as well. You aren’t celebrating with Logan?”

She shakes her head. “We already celebrated. Him, Oscar, and a bunch of his friends here are throwing a party. I wasn’t really interested in watching them all get wasted, so this,” she gestures to the hotel bar, “is me having a drink to celebrate before going up to my room and ordering some room service.”

“Could I join you?” His cheeks redden at the words, at the way her eyebrows raise. “Not like that. But for food? I’ve never actually eaten anywhere in Miami that wasn’t catering.”

She stares at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. And I have the perfect place to take you.”

—

“Did I actually score points yesterday?”

“You did.”

“Sweet.”

“Very. How’s the head?”

Logan shrugs, “I mean, I drank a lot, but like I’m just dehydrated.”

She shakes her head, “That will change in a few years.”

“Not gonna tell me to not drink underage?” He teases, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass of juice and draining it.

She snorts. “We’re in Europe most of the time and I gave you your first drink. I don’t think I have a leg to stand on. And you were celebrating.”

“True.”

He sits across from her, refilling the glass and taking another drink from it before setting it down and starting to help himself to her pancakes, which she just pushes closer to him. “How was your night? You could have joined us. We wouldn’t of minded.”

“I’m your mom, Logan.” She laughs. “I think the me going to your friend's parties ship sailed a few years ago.”

“Yeah, but you're awesome. We like having you around.”

“I know.” She smiles. “I wasn’t in the mood to watch all of you get wasted.”

“Fair.” he says around a bite of pancake, which she sends him a look for and he quickly swallows the food. Giving her a smile that says sorry.

“So, how was your night?”

“It was good.” She tells him, spearing a piece of fruit with her other fork. “I came back to the hotel, had a drink, and then got dinner with Max.”

His brows press together. “Max?”

“Verstappen.” She clarifies. “Red Bull is staying here as well, he saw me at the hotel bar and asked if he could join me for some food.”

“You went on a date?”

Her eyes narrow at him. “It wasn't a date.”

“You went on a date.” He scrambles for his phone. “Oscar is never gonna believe it.”

“I go on dates.”

“Momma, you’ve gone on like five dates. And two of those were before you turned eighteen.”

She scowls at him. “It wasn’t a date. We just got dinner.” She insists.

“Uh huh.” He says, clearly not believing her. “Did he pay?”

“Yes.”

“Pull your chair out, help you with your coat, anything like that?”

Her mind flashes back to Max helping her get out of his car, his insistence on opening doors for her. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean,”

Logan continues. “Did he walk you to your hotel room? Say that he had a good time and he’d like to do it again?”

“Oh.”

Logan grins at her, smug, as he finishes typing out a text to Oscar. “You went on a date last night.”

“I went on a date last night.” And she doesn’t mention the fact that a new number resides in her phone.

—

“Logan!”

He stops at the sound of his name, turning to look behind him, where Max Verstappen is nearly jogging to catch up with him. “Max.” He greets, when the older driver is next to him, nerves filling him at the eyes of said driver on him, along with how a few other drivers are also looking at the pair, shock and surprise clear on their faces.

“Hey.” Max grins. “How are you feeling about the track?”

He looks at the older driver in confusion. They had just left the drivers briefing, why was he asking him this? Alex had already spoken about how the team was feeling about Monaco. “The car won’t be the best here, but we said that in Miami, so we’re hoping to repeat that here. Alex has a good chance at ending in a point scoring position.” He reiterates what he's been told and what he’s been telling the press.

“But how are you feeling about it?”

Logan stares at the Dutchman, eyes flickering around trying to see if cameras are there, if his momma is there, but there isn’t anyone. The other drivers are already gone, so are the FIA people. It’s just him and Max. “Y’know you don’t have to talk to me because you went out with my mom.”

He expects relief, like that one dick Jase, and really who puts that on a birth certificate, but Max just frowns. “I know, I don’t have to.”

Logan swallows around the lump in his throat, “right.” Turning around, he starts to walk, somehow knowing that the other driver will join him. “It’s a tricky track, it’s Monaco. I was here last year and I barely got in the points.”

“P10 and P9.”

He throws the driver a look, because that was too much to know, but Max is just looking at him, encouraging him to continue. “The car isn’t suited for it. I mean it wasn’t for Miami, but this is different. And I’m still not managing my tyres correctly, so even if I did manage to gain positions, I’d get called in to pit and lose them.”

Max huffs out a laugh. “You are a rookie in a Williams, it’s impressive that you’ve already gotten points. If you could manage your tyres, when sometimes even I struggle, well I’d put you in Checo’s seat.”

“Not yours?”

He laughs again, “No. I’m a bit better at it than Checo.”

Logan couldn’t really deny that.

“Do you want some advice? On the tyres?”

Logan quickly nods. “I’ll take anything I can get.”

“Don’t fight the car too much on the turns. If you need to get it to turn properly or without going on the brakes too soon, fight it. But when you don’t, let the car be stable, keep it fluid. When you come out of the corner, press harder. It might feel like you’ll go into the wall, but you won’t.”

“And if I go into the wall?”

Max laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think you're a better driver than that mate.”

—

“How are you doing that in the turns?”

Logan looks up from his notebook, where he’d been scribbling a bunch of random words. Looking at the screen, he watches his own onboard. He thinks about saying that it was Max that told, but no one at Williams liked hearing about Red Bull, especially with Alex in the room. “Just something I thought I’d try.”

“Well, it was good, continue doing it. We may have ended up out of the points, but we got close.”

Logan nods. Even with his five-second penalty, he had still kept fourteenth, and Alex ended up in twelfth. “Will do.”

—

Max had thought about her in his apartment a lot, an embarrassing amount. He had also pictured it very differently. A nice dinner, wine, even though a majority of it made his nose wrinkle, perhaps some kissing on his couch as a movie plays that they both don’t care about.

He hadn’t expected lunch, with juice that he’s trying to figure out how he’s never had it when he’s lived in Monaco for so many years, and a somewhat serious conversation, though maybe he has been expecting that one or rather anticipating it.

“I like you, Max.”

He flushes, “I like you too.” He really did, even though his mother was going to have a heart attack when she found out how much older Pan was than him.

“And I want to continue doing this.” She gestures between them with her free hand that isn’t being held in his.

“So,” sensing that there’s something she wants to say.

“I’m a mom.”

He blinks at her words, panic starting to fill him. He thought he’d made that clear that he knew that, understood that. He always made sure to ask about Logan. He even had Logan’s number now after talking to him about how he felt about the Monaco track. “I know.”

“Logan is important to me.”

Oh, god, did Logan not like him?

“The most important thing to me. And if we're going to continue to do this, I just need you to know that. He’s always going to be my first priority.”

“Of course.” Relief fills him, his heart slows from its frantic beating. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

She stares at him, trying to gauge how truthful he’s being before nodding. “Okay.”

“Did you think that I didn’t know that?”

She shakes her head immediately. “No, it’s just. I don’t really do this.” She laughs. “Dating, relationships. Logan pointed that out to me, so I don’t really know how this goes and I just had to make it clear, put it on the table now.”

“I don’t really do this either.” He hesitates to ask his next question, but does. “Logan’s father. What was your relationship with him like?”

Her face screws up in disgust. “Ew.”

He laughs, not expecting that reply or that word to sum up a relationship. But fair enough.

“I mean the idea of a relationship between me and Logan’s father is gross. Logan’s,” she pauses, seeming to settle on a different word. “Birth parents are my aunt and uncle.”

“His what?” He could have sworn she said birth parents, but that couldn’t be right.

“His birth parents.” She looks at him, concerned. “I adopted Logan when I turned eighteen. Did you think I gave birth to him?”

“No.” He says, shaking head and clearing his throat. “Of course not.”

She stares at him, lips pressed together.

He sighs, slumping in his seat, eyes closing. “I may or may not have thought you were just a really, really young looking forty-something year old woman.”

She immediately bursts into laughter and his eyes fly open at the sound. “You thought?”

“The graphic for the race footage says you are his mother, I did not think otherwise. I just thought you looked great for your age.” He defends, a little embarrassed, but delighted by the expression on her face and her laughter that is still filling his ears.

“I am his mother, just adopted.”

“Not that either of you see it that way.”

“No.” She shakes her head, laughing one last time before calming down.

“No. Logan’s mine, he’s been mine practically since he was born. It just wasn’t seen that way legally until I was eighteen and custody got signed over to me.”

“Of course.” He then flashes her smile, “So can I ask how old you are?”

She laughs, nodding. “Yes, Max. I think just this once it’s better to ask a lady her age than assume it.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-nine.”

He looks at her with new eyes, the age making much more sense. “I would’ve said twenty-five.”

“Really? I think you would’ve said forty-something.”

“How was I to know?” He throws his free hand in the air at the tease, his other still holding hers.

—

“Hi, baby.” She greets when Logan stumbles out of his room, practically still asleep, as he drops onto the couch.

“Momma.” He whines, resting his head on her lap and turning his face to press it into her stomach, trying to block out the sun.

Her fingers brush through his hair as she forces her body to stay relaxed. It was always a fight when he did this.

She hated that her body didn’t bear any signs of being pregnant before, no stretch marks around her belly. She hated that she hadn’t actually gotten to carry Logan no matter how impractical it was, unless of course she was as old as Max had thought she was. She smiles at the memory of how flustered Max had looked when he realized her actual age.

He mumbles something and she turns his face away from her stomach.

“What?”

“How was your date last night?”

Her smile widens. “It was good.”

“Yeah?”

She nods.

“Did you see Jimmy and Sassy?”

“No.” She runs her hand over his forehead, knowing that he’s thinking of Sooty. “We should talk though after you’ve had some breakfast.”

“About what?”

“Breakfast first.”

“What do we need to talk about?” Logan asks nearly thirty minutes later, his fruit bowl all gone and his coffee on its way to be there as well.

She swallows, hands flexing. “Max.”

“What about Max?”

She sighs. “Well, baby, him and I talked about becoming serious last night. But that’s not gonna happen until I know how you feel.”

“You know, I’m okay with it.”

“I know you're okay with me dating, but this is a bit more complicated. Max is on the grid with you and we’re talking about a relationship.”

Logan eyes widen a bit at the word relationship. “I mean, how does Max feel about it? About being with someone who has a kid on the grid?”

He asks knowing it will give him time to figure out how to tell her how he feels and because he wants to know, he kind of wants Max to be okay with it. He likes Max, and not just as a driver. The older driver is kind and funny, he also looks at his mom like she’s the sun, he makes her happy and that’s enough to put him in Logan’s good books. His mom deserves the best and he thinks from what little he’s seen, from how much more happy his mom has been (and god that was weird, because it wasn’t even like she wasn’t happy before) that Max might be the best for her. And Max now every time he sees Logan is always stopping to talk to him even if it’s just for a second to say a quick hi.

“Max is good with it. He knows that you're my number one and that’s never going to change.”

Logan flushes at the words.

“He also likes you, thinks you're a good kid.” She lets out an amused huff as the word kid leaves her mouth. It was odd to hear Max describe Logan that way, with only five years between them. But at the same time she knew it came from being practically a veteran in the sport. Max was coming up on ten years in Formula 1 despite his young age.

He flushes even more. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “He always asks about you, it’s really sweet. And he knows to that if you aren’t comfortable with this or need more time then that’s what will happen.”

“I am an adult.”

“You are.” She was sadly well aware of that fact. “But you are my baby, my kid. I couldn’t be in a relationship with someone if you didn’t like them or if it made you uncomfortable.”

He nods. “I’m okay with it. Max makes you happy, he’s nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

—

She lets out a giggle as arms wrap around her from behind, lips pressing against her cheek. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Another kiss is pressed to her cheek. “Can I help?”

She glances down at what she’s finishing up. “No. You could set the table, though?”

“Done.” A kiss is pressed to her temple and then the blanket of heat that covered her back is gone. “What cabinet?”

“First one entering the kitchen on the left.” She says, turning her head a bit to watch as Max pulls the dishes out.

Her mouth goes a little dry as she watches him. His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and chest. His skin is a little tanned after their date a few days ago on a friend's yacht. She forces her eyes to not look at his hands, instead trailing them up to his strong shoulders and neck and then to his face. Max, she thinks as he starts to put the plates on the table, is unfairly attractive. Before he can catch her staring, she checks on the final thing on the stove. “Perfectly done.” She mumbles with a smile.

The sound of the front door opening makes her smile grow wider as she grabs a pot holder.

“Am I late?”

“Just on time.” She tells Logan as he steps into the kitchen.

“Can I,”

She stops him before he can continue. “No, go wash up.”

“Alright.” He bends a little to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel, offering a wave to Max. “Hi.”

“Hi, Logan.”

Picking up the pan, she shakes her head as Max goes to try and take it from her.

“Logan and you are both going to get on too well.”

“Why’s that?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye.

“You both don’t like when I lift anything.”

“What’s the point of having a son or a boyfriend, then?” Logan says, clapping Max on the shoulder as he comes back.

Max grins at the younger, delighted as he claps him back. “Exactly. We feel a bit neglected.”

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head, though a smile is stretching across her lips.

—

Max watches amused as the mother and son argue.

“Mom, it would be for two races, two, that’s it.”

“One race, really.” Max chimes in, smiling when she glares at him. “Spa is nice, but Zandvoort is really what I consider my home race.”

“See, it would be one race. Max wants you in his garage.” Logan says, looking at the other driver, begging for him to help but at the last sentence Max shakes his head.

“I never said that. Well, I would like to see Pan in my garage, not for the whole weekend, or even a day. She’s part of your team.”

Logan looks at him, bewildered. “But, it’s your home race.”

He shrugs. “I’d like for her to stop by, you as well. I already have it cleared with the team. Staying for even a whole session though just doesn’t make any sense. I don’t need her on my side of the garage to know that she’s supporting me, wanting me to do well, not when you are on the grid.”

“Are you sure?”

Max smiles at Logan, because yes he was sure. Did he want her there, supporting him? Maybe even dressed in something with his number? Of course. But, he liked seeing her in Logan’s garage. Supporting him, wearing his merch, being a mom. “I’m more than sure.”

“Besides,” she says, drawing both of their attention. “Max and I haven’t gone public yet. Or really told anyone yet.”

—

“Well, this is a bit of an odd one.” Laura says as they stop in front of the Red Bull garage.

The cameraman focuses on what she’s looking at.

“Both Logan Sargeant and his mother, better known as Pan from Formula 2 fans, are in the Red Bull garage, currently talking with our current championship leader Max Verstappen, his engineer GP, and Daniel Ricciardo.”

“Shall I see if I can steal one of them away?” Will asks, smiling at the camera as he holds the F1 TV microphone loosely.

“Please.” She gestures.

Will steps towards the garage smiling at the small group hovering just inside. “Could I steal one of you for a quick minute?”

The five exchange a look and Will stops himself from rolling his eyes at the way they all look annoyed at the idea, but Logan nods. “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

He watches as Logan says something quietly to them, getting nods from them all. His brow furrows when Max squeezes his shoulder before the younger driver gives his mom a quick hug, making him shake his head. Logan Sargeant was an absolute mommy’s boy and it was embarrassing as all hell to see. He couldn’t imagine being twenty and hugging his mom in public, let alone all those videos and photos of him reaching for her hand.

Will ignored the part of him that did think it was sweet and felt bad for the kid. He couldn’t look all sappy while filming, especially not when in front of the Red Bull garage.

“Hi everyone.” Logan greets, taking the third mic from the newest crew member.

“Hello, Logan. How are you feeling about this weekend?”

He smiles at Laura. “I’m feeling okay, I’ve raced here before, obviously not in an F1 car, but I do have some experience with this track.”

“And you and your mum’s visit to the Red Bull garage, should we expect an announcement of you switching teams?” She teases.

“No.” He laughs. “No, uh, just visiting for personal reasons. Saying hello to Daniel, wishing Max a good home race.”

“I mean, I’m not sure, he needs it.” Will jokes, gaining a few laughs. “So, no business to be done at Red Bull? Just saying a hello and wishing a good race to a fellow driver.”

“Yeah,” he pauses, looking back at the garage where it’s just Max and his mom standing now watching him with smiles on their faces. It’s only that he continues when his mom gives a brief nod, one barely able to be seen by the camera. “And I wasn’t just wishing a fellow driver good luck.”

“Oh?”

Logan grins, looking pleased with himself. “I was wishing my new dad good luck.”

—

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.”

Max freezes at her words, hand still on the doorknob from just stepping into the room.

“Hi, schat.”

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” She repeats.

His brain is scrambling because what exactly had Carlos done but also why was it so attractive to her say the word cunt. It had to be the accent, he decided quickly, still trying to figure out the Carlos thing. “And why is Carlos a cunt?” He finally asks, releasing the door knob and stepping further into the room.

She’s on her laptop, rapidly typing something, and he can feel anger radiating off her.

“That bullshit he spewed, blaming Oscar’s inexperience.” She scoffs, pausing her typing as she shakes her head. “It was an incident, a racing incident, something he knows a lot about. There was no inexperience fault.”

“Oscar’s okay?” He already knows that he is, but knows it's good to ask.

“He’s good. He knows that it's a racing incident.”

Max winces. Wonders for a second if he should warn Carlos to keep his mouth shut, but shrugs. It wasn’t his fault that Carlos was getting in trouble because he couldn’t watch his mouth or correctly look at footage. “Can I help?”

She sighs, hitting close on whatever she was writing in. “No.” She then closes her laptop, turning to face him, with a smile. “Hi. Congrats on the win.”

“Thank you.” He bends to kiss her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just,” she waves her hand at her laptop, “stuff.”

“Anything I can help with?”

She starts to shake her head no as he sits on the edge of the bed, but she stops.

“Actually, could I get your insight on something? Not just as a driver, but as someone who lives and breathes racing, loves data, really knows how the sport works.”

“Of course. What’s going on?”

Another sigh leaves her, hand coming up to rub at her mouth for a second before it drops. “Why would a team not resign a driver?”

His eyebrows furrow, because she knows the reasons, but he answers. “Not performing well, they want out of the team or sport, sponsorship issues.”

“The driver wants to stay in the sport and the team.” Her lips turn downwards a bit at the word team. “And the driver brought new sponsorships to the team.”

“They have to be not performing well.”

“They’re a rookie in a back marker team.”

“They have to be really performing badly.” Max says, trying to think of who in Formula 2 or 3 she’s talking about.

“They already have six points and have placed ahead of their experienced teammate three times.”

His mind is scrambling again, trying to find a reason, because what? “How many does his teammate have?”

“Nine.”

“I have no idea. Not unless there’s conflict within the team.”

She shakes her head.

“Is there potentially a more experienced driver for the spot?”

She shakes her head. “They’re looking at another rookie or maybe someone who stepped away from the series for a year, though they’d rather take a rookie than him.”

“I don’t have an answer for you. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

She nods, expression falling and she’s rubbing at her face.

“What’s going on?” He asks, standing up just to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his.

“The driver’s Logan.”

“What?”

“Williams isn’t sure they want to offer Logan another year.”

Max stares at her. “How?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs, laughing. “There’s talks of them signing whoever wins this F2 championship or even the runner-up depending on who it is. Logan’s making too many mistakes.”

“He’s costing them too much money.” Max fills in the blank, shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous. Don’t take a rookie if you can’t afford it. You are supposed to account for the worse. And he’s doing well. It’s not his fault that they built a shit car.”

“I don’t know what to do.” She admits, voice just a whisper, and his heart clenches painfully at the sound of it, at the tears in her eyes. “This is his dream. I don't know what to do if that gets taken away from him.”

“It won’t. We’ll figure something out.” He tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

—

“I think I’m spoiled.” Max says, watching as she gets ready for bed. A faint feeling of arousal pooling his gut as she pulls on one of his shirts. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be weird to wear it tomorrow to the track, the scent of her lotion clinging to it.

“Why’s that, honey?”

He smiles, cheeks a bit pink, and that arousal builds a bit more at the pet name, at the way she shifts in the vanity chair to loosen some tension in her back. “You come to every race, you see me win, you celebrate them, you got to see me win my third championship today.” Those words feel weird off his tongue, today, but totally sober to celebrate. He wants desperately for tomorrow to come, for the race to finish so they can celebrate, him, her, Logan, the team.

“I guess you are a bit spoiled.”

He gasps, clutching at his heart, making her giggle.

“That’s okay though.” She says, getting up and moving onto the bed, straddling him. “I think I like you spoiled.”

He groans as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to the flutter of his pulse. “Schat.” It's a warning to stop and a plea for more.

“I know.” She kisses the spot a bit firmer. “Celebrations will have to wait just a day longer.” She then rolls off him, his arm immediately lifting so she can press against his side.

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race.”

She snorts, “A sprint race never stopped us before.”

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race in Qatar.” He amends.

“Very true.”

He sighs, staring at the ceiling as he calms down, luckily the feeling of her fingers tapping along his stomach not making it harder.

“How’s Logan feeling?” Max asks, remembering how pale he looked when they got dinner.

She sighs, moving somehow closer. “Not great. No fever, but his stomach is still a bit upset.”

He winces. “He gonna be okay tomorrow?”

“I hope so. The team knows that he’s sick, they’ll make the right choice.”

“I hope so.” He echoes, wishing that Logan felt better, hoping that he feels better by the time the race starts.

—

“We are confident in him.” Max scoffs, tossing his phone aside.

“I know.”

“Logan still wanting to do his new routine.”

She nods, lips pursed.

He shakes his head. “He did good.” It wasn’t the rookie season that Oscar had, but it couldn’t be. Oscar got lucky enough to get a seat in a near top team, while Logan got one with a back of the grid team that was sometimes midfield.

Logan scoring ten points, getting himself to sixteenth in the standings, tied with Bottas in the standings, was very good for a rookie. It was a shame that Williams seemed to think he could’ve and should have done better. At least, Max thinks, the 2025 grid was wide open for possibilities.

“Are him and Oscar still joining us?”

She throws him a look. “Us?”

“You.” He amends, knowing that despite him joining her, he’d get caught up in Redline and different things. He was just happy she didn’t mind that.

“Only for a few days and then they both are off to Australia.”

“Will Logan be joining us for Florida?”

“Yes. My mom has been asking the next time she’s going to see her only grandchild.”

Max laughs at the eye roll. “So, Belgium first, then Monaco,”

“You go to Milton for a day after.”

He nods, “then Greece, Florida, Monaco.”

“Not bad for the first few weeks of winter break.”

“Not bad at all.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around her waist, chest pressed against her back.

It’s quiet between the couple as Max sways them.

“Max.”

“Yes?”

“Your mom, she does know that I’m not in my forties right? Or thirties?” She figured that the woman did, but she also had only briefly gotten to meet her at the one race, and there had been an odd expression on her face when Max introduced her as his girlfriend.

He freezes.

“Max.”

“I knew I forgot something.”

@ohtous @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

[freyaphoria]

Hello! Since I can't save the writings in my drafts and your request is currently stuck in my drafts, I have to post it this way. I hope you can see your request T_T By the way, I wrote this 4 times, and the universe prevented me from writing it. Normally it was over 2k words, but most of it was deleted and I forgot what I wrote. Anyway, Love u!♡

Look Like a Freak

tw: nerd!Seonghwa x fem!reader, oral(giving mentioned, receiving), squirting, slapping, fingering, vibrator using, degradation, bondage, overstimulation

wc: 1.5k

taglist: @aim-blossom @matzrionette

“Seonghwa, are we really going to do it here?” It was too late to ask now. He made an approving noise as he abused your pussy between. To your surprise, he could hear you and respond. Normally, after tasting you, Seonghwa would be pussy drunk and wouldn't hear or see anything.

Seonghwa's room was the most virginity room you've ever seen. There were more Star Wars figures and Legos than you could count. And what is it? On the top shelf of the display case, on top of the Star Wars legos, there were colorful house legos and animals next to them, which you might think were related to animal crossing which might attract the attention of 5-year-old children.

You and Seonghwa went to the same university and met at the dance club. When you first met him, he was very quiet, buried in his book with a book by an unknown author in his hand and he was wearing the metal-framed glasses he was currently wearing, not communicating with anyone. Even though most people avoided communicating with him, you felt his potential in his eyes under those big glasses. You had initiated the first communication and asked him something about the star wars lego keychain hanging on his bag, and before you knew how the things had developed, he had pulled you into the back storage and made out with you. After a while, you started fucking after every dance lesson and became addicted to each other. You were nothing but a fuck buddy, but you'd still meet up at his house every once in a while to build Legos together like cute couple, and as you can imagine, your night would end up in his bed, trying to recover, with his cum dripping down between your legs.

Same thing today, you met at his house to play his favorite game, the two of you lying in bed while Seonghwa was playing Animal Crossing on his Nintendo. But you had made him horny without knowing why, and Seonghwa stopped his game, which was an unexpected move from him, and started eating you. Animal Crossing, where you played with Seonghwa, was still on on the TV and calm music was playing.

"Can you at least turn off that game? It's ruining the whole mood-" You were cut off by Seonghwa shoving your panties into your mouth. "Don't tire that beautiful mouth of yours by talking, you will be tired enough when I put my dick down your throat."

Who would believe that someone as nerdy as him could make you this wet? If you told your friends who knew him, they would all think you went crazy. But right now, you were in his bed with your legs wide open and you were dripping, Animal Crossing in front of you, Star Wars figures next to you, and a nerd Seonghwa losing himself between your legs.

When Seonghwa started using his fingers as well, you realized you wouldn't last long. He was eating you out and fingering you so professionally that you were seeing stars every time, your legs shaking uncontrollably and squirting on him. And so it was, the moment you felt his fingers inside you, curls them up and abusing your sweet spot while his tongue stimulates your clitoris, you couldn't hold back that ball that was growing in your belly any longer and you came into his mouth. Your voice came out as a muffled moan through your underwear in your mouth. "Oh but I couldn't hear you clearly, looks like we're going to do it again." He pulled the fabric from your mouth and kissed you hungryly. Since he still didn't remove his fingers from you, you continued to spasm uncontrollably around his fingers and began to squirm from the overstimulation.

"What is that? You got tired a little early for a slut like you. Open your legs." As you tried to close your legs, Seonghwa forced them open. When you closed them again, you were startled by the sound of him slapping your thigh hard. "You want to be a brat? Okay then." He let go of your legs and headed towards his desk. He opened his drawer, took the rope next to a lot of Animal crossing cards, closed the drawer hard and turned towards you. You held back your laughter when you saw the colored cards. He adjusted the thin metal-framed glasses that fell on the tip of his nose, found the end of the rope and started wrapping it around your wrists.

"Hwa, I'm getting rope burns, haven't you found that furry handcuff yet?" He tied the rope tightly around your wrists, he bent your leg towards you and brought your ankle closer to your hands and tied the rest of it to your ankles. "No I couldn't. And if you stop squirming, you won't get a burn." After tying your other side in the same way, he checked its strength and made sure that it was not loose. He looked at you, his masterpiece, from head to toe, then he spanked your pussy that you had forced open and exposed for him, and he moved towards your upper body. You let out a small scream at the sudden feeling of pain. He tied your upper body by looping the rope around your chest and tying it over your arm; so it stabilized your arms and prevented you from closing your legs.

"Now, what should we do with you?" You felt even wetter with the feeling of being restricted and having all your control in his hands. The feeling of emptiness inside you was becoming unbearable and if he didn't fuck you soon, you would start crying and whining from frustration. "Just fuck me already."

The left side of his mouth lifted up and laughed slyly. A deep chuckle escaped his throat. "No no, I won't give you what you want that easily." This time, he opened the drawer where he kept your toys under the previous drawer and took out the pink vibrator with remote control. When you think about what he did to you with it, your heart starts to lose its rhythm and the adrenaline in your body begins to tickle your pussy waiting to be filled. The vibrator that he play with you for hours and eventually makes you squirm from overstimulation and cry and beg him to stop...

"How about this? No coming until I finish my new lego set. If you come, I won't fuck you tonight. Understood?" "Wait, at least let me suck you." He moved the toy in his hand over your folds before inserting it inside you, collecting your wetness on the toy. "Are you that much of a cock slave? Is there a day you don't spend without sucking me? Can't that little belly of yours do without taking my cum?" Your face turned red because of his dirty words. Yes, there wasn't a day without sucking him, but there wasn't a day without him eating you either. You were considered equal in every way. After all, you were a fuck buddy and that was your purpose. "Please just let me take you in my mouth" He balled up the panties he had just taken out of your mouth and put it back into your mouth. "Just deal with it for now. You can do it, right? It shouldn't be too hard."

After laughing sarcastically, he moved the vibrator over your folds for the last time and put it inside you. You gasped at the sudden feeling of being filled. The fact that you didn't know when Seonghwa would start the toy and when he would stop it made you nervous and excited. After licking his fingers, which got wet because he inserted the vibrator inside you, and tasting you again, got up from you and took the lego bag next to his wardrobe and placed it on his desk. "Which one do you think I should do?" He took out the Lego sets one by one from the paper bag and showed them all to you. The hilarity of your current situation and the Animal Crossing music playing in the background almost made you laugh. You were thankful for the fabric over your mouth that prevented you from laughing.

"Oh that's it!" He took out the 1394-piece Ghost & Phantom II set from the bag and placed it on the table. When he took the remote control of the vibrator and started to turn it on at medium level, you first lost your breath and started to squirm in your place. But he tied the ropes so tightly that you couldn't move much.

"Remember, no coming until I finish this set." He opened the box and placed the contents on the table, looking at you who began to tremble slightly. “You look like a slut.” And you look like a freak you thought.

[pholla-jm]

My Wife is Real

IMAGINE: MY WIFE IS REAL~ GOJO X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: not proof read. use of y/n. use of she/her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Who do you think he’s texting?” Nobara whispers to her two classmates, Yuji and Megumi. 

Their teacher, Gojo Satoru, sat at his desk. Legs kicked up onto the desk while he was on his phone, giggling here and there. 

It was questionable if Gojo even knew that class had started. 

Megumi didn’t even bother to pay attention. He also sat on his phone, scrolling through social media. 

“I don’t know…” Yuji ponders. “Ugh, he has to be harassing a poor soul.” Yuji gasps at Nobara’s response, “no.” 

Nobara sits up in her seat, “Gojo-sensei,” she calls out. Gojo peeks up, “oh. I didn’t know you were here.” “Maybe if you stopped bothering people, you would notice.” 

Gojo places his hand on his chest and gasps dramatically. “I am not bothering anyone.” “Then who are you texting?” “My wife, duh.” 

Nobara bursts out laughing, “hahaha, yeah… yeah right.” She wheezes. Tears left the corner of her eyes as she tried to take him seriously, but she really couldn’t. 

Yuji just stares at him in confusion, “you’ve never told me about his wife. I don’t believe you.” 

Gojo gasps in shock and disbelief at his student’s words. “Huh?! I do too have a wife. That hurts my feelings that you don’t believe me!” 

Gojo’s full focus was on his students now. Trying to convince them that his wife is indeed real. “She’s literally the best person in the whole world, and the prettiest.” 

Nobara scoffs and rolls her eyes, “stop making things up Gojo-sensei. It’s getting sad at this point.” 

Gojo pouts at her words. He then grabs his phone, typing something in his phone. He puts his phone down with a triumphant smile on his face. “You’ll see.” 

“Yeah… we’ll see.” Nobara says to Megumi and Yuji. 

Megumi on the other hand was not paying attention to a single thing that was going on. He assumed something stupid was going on, so why even bother to pay attention? Yuji just has a thoughtful look on his face, trying to remember any mention of a wife. But there is no mention of one. 

“Yeah… I think you’re making this up… sorry Gojo-sensei.” “This is just getting sad…” Nobara whispers while shaking her head. 

“I can’t believe my student’s have little faith in me.” 

Only five minutes passed of slight bickering between until a knock was heard at the door. The bickering died down and all heads turned towards the door. 

Nobara’s and Yuji’s eyes widen seeing a woman at the door. 

“Who is that?” Yuji whispers to Nobara. She shrugs her shoulders, “has to be someone he hired.” 

Gojo jumps from his chair, a huge smile on his face. “Wifey!” 

He runs over to you, pulling you into a tight hold. 

You let out a strangled gasp from the impact. “Gojo,” you start, “this is the second time you forgot your lunch… and it’s only Tuesday.” 

Gojo pulls back, a faux pout on his lips, “I’m sorry.” You narrow your eyes at him, “I bet you’re just using this as an excuse to see me.” “Whoops, you caught me. Well, while you’re here. Let me introduce you to my students.” 

“Wait wait-” You didn’t get a chance to stop him because he dragged you into the front of the classroom. 

You eye the three students. Megumi had finally put down the phone, giving you an apologetic look. Nobara and Yuji were looking at you in shock. 

“Students, this is my wife, (y/n).” Gojo basically shows you off with a bright smile on his face. Hands in a jazz hand formation. You nervously smiled at the students. 

“Hello.” 

“Hello Gojo-san.” Megumi quietly said, but it was still loud enough for everyone to hear. You gave the boy a sweet smile, nodding at him. 

“What?! Do you know her?” Nobara and Yuji ask him. “Yes…” 

“Yes, they’ve known each other for quite awhile now…. Sorry guys. She’s a bit shy.” Gojo says while you continue to smile at them. 

“They didn’t believe Gojo-sensi had a wife..” Megumi tells you. 

You hum before turning to Gojo, “I see… I don’t blame them.” 

“Huh?! What is that supposed to mean?” You roll your eyes. “Ever so dramatic.” “...so mean.. How can my wife be so cruel?” 

“Ugh, no one cares,” Nobara sighs, “come sit down with us (y/n)-sensei. I have so much to ask you.” 

You just smile at the girl and move over to the desks. 

Gojo looks at you with a shocked look. Not believing that you were leaving his side. 

“What are you doing?” He asks you. You look back at him, “well, you wanted me to meet your students. So I’m getting to know them.” 

You give him a little smirk and Gojo knows that type of smirk. The one where he’s going to regret his actions later. 

Maybe not now, but he knows that this decision will come to bite him.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Your Own Happy Ending

Mouthwashing gang X Reader

AN: Can be read as platonic, and can be implied to be any/multiple characters. Except Jimmy. Fuck you Jimmy

Sum: Enough was enough. Time to get off this stupid Rock

Warnings: 18+, violence, sexual assault, revenge fic, talks about rape, gore, happy ending don’t worry, trauma, mouth wash, graphic violence, written by a victim of sexual assault and giving all of us that need to get revenge on our abusers. I see you, guys gals and nonbinary pals. I see you

This had to stop. He was going to just hurt more and more people. There will be more victims. You can’t become a victim, you can’t have the ones you love be under his hands. No. No one deserved this.

No one except him.

Curly was at deaths door, Anya is going to reach a point of no return in her pregnancy, Daisuke is on the edge of a mental break down, and even Swansea is shattering apart. One bottle of mouthwash at a time.

You didn’t know what will happen next. You were crashed in god knows where, but maybe there is a chance of hope. Maybe there is a way to get home. Maybe. Maybe maybe maybe.

The cockpit is full of foam, but who says you can’t just cut away at it enough to access a transmitter? What’s else is left to do? Not like waiting and praying is helping.

Would explain why Jimmy refused to let anyone have the keys to the pit.

He didn’t want his sins to escape.

You’ll make them escape out of his damn body.

There was no way Anya was going to tell you where the gun was. Guess that means you’ll need to improvise. Had a ax. A ax can do it, but getting it away from Swansea is going to be troubling. He was keeping it as much for self defense at this point as you would have to.

You needed a weapon.

Your hands couldn’t handle it. Jimmy was able to do so much harm already. Anya was most likely not his only victim. He’s certainly done this before. Meaning he knows how to fight, and get someone pinned under him. There to do whatever he wanted.

You had to get him before he got you.

What else could be a weapon?

A knife? A knife!

You ran into the kitchen, much to the confusion of Swansea and Daisuke, only to start tearing the drawers out. Utensils flying everywhere as you tried to find something. Anything sharp.

To your horror there was no knives.

“He took all the knives….”

You looked over, same for Swansea, as it had been Daisuke who said it.

Daisuke said it.

“They are all in Curly’s old room. Since he’s the new captain now he has the ability to lock down that door. No one gets in, and no one gets out. Whatever he wants to hide is there. Noticed him hoarding things there. Was so confused…..Now I’m not anymore.”

Swansea looked ready to start swinging his ax at the nearest body of organs. He couldn’t believe this was real. That this was some shining bullshit.

This couldn’t go on.

“Swan, Daisuke, you guys gotta grab Anya and hide out in the med-bay. I’ll find something. I’ll find something-“ You rambled on, before Anya had poked her head in. Seeing Swansea holding Daisuke, and trying to keep that ray of sunshine from finally snapping.

“What’s going on?” She would whisper. Ever afraid if she spoke to loud that Jimmy would find her. Find her and do something else. Didn’t matter where she was. He was always breathing down her neck. One way or another.

“Little junior adventurer over there wants to finish the job.” Swansea would grit his teeth, as you still kept hunting down for something. Willing to tear apart cushions. You had to find SOMETHING. Maybe you could break a chair leg, maybe you could use some wires. Maybe maybe maybe-

That’s when Anya held your shoulder. Her tired eyes pulled you away from the incoming insanity. Brought you back to reality, and had you listen. Listen for just a moment.

“This is where the jugular vein is-“ She begun, as she pointed to her neck. Then started to name off more vital arteries, before pulling a scalpel from her pocket. Into your hands they went, as she kept listing off every vital vein possible. Weak points every body had.

Even a man like him.

“Last I saw him he was exploring the lower decks. Please…..Just make it quick.” As much as she hated him, she just could only bring herself to be only so cold. She could never be as cruel as Jimmy. To wish death onto someone. Never would she.

That’s what made her forever better than him.

“Come on, kid. You ain’t gonna wanna see this. Get over here, Anya. Come on. Let’s go have a sleepover with Captain Curly.” He would motion her over, and she would snuggle under his arm. The two safe in his arms, as he would walk them to the med-bay.

Was wise for him to keep the ax. That thing was what kept Jimmy from doing his own finishing of the job. You can’t over power him. No you can’t. There was also the fact Anya made sure to keep the gun hidden. You wouldn’t deny the idea it was in the med-bay somewhere. Just more protection if anything.

They’ll be safe. If you didn’t make it, at least you’ll make sure Jimmy is too weak to try anything more to hurt them. Weak enough for someone else to finish the job. What mattered now was them staying away until the job was done, and for you to figure out what to do next.

You needed that damn key.

You would stuff your hands in your pockets, grip tight on the scalpel, and started walking. Walking, thinking, listening. Eyes glued to anything that could offer an opportunity to be jumped. You had to be vigilant.

As you walked you would notice the door that was once Curly’s. How Jimmy didn’t deserve the luxury of what a Captain gets. Made you wonder what else he was also hoarding in that room. Maybe he was hoarding resources that should have been shared with the rest of you. There could be the slimmest chance that he was hiding away a transmitter even. Not having the guts to destroy it, and maybe even as far as to what for the rest of them to kill each other before he called for help.

That coward.

You had to get his keys. You needed those keys for those you love. They deserved to live. YOU deserved to live. No way in hell will Jimmy keep getting away with this. Never again. Never more.

Your nerves were getting tighter and tighter now. Even the sound of your own heart beat was painfully loud in your head. The sweat on your skin, the itch of your skin being too tight, the pounding of drums, the feeling of air pushing at your ribcage. So much as your eyes blinking was to loud.

Everything was to loud.

That’s when a bang of metal hitting metal alerted you. You spun around, and was just met with nothing. Just an empty, dark, hallway. No source of the noise. Maybe there was none to begin with. Just your nerves.

“Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You know you have to do this. There is no other option. You can do this. For Anya, for Daisuke, and for Swansea.”

A wipe to your brow and you returned to hunting him down.

Felt like an eternity. Just endless hallways in red lights of emergency. Hallways blocked off by foam. Was a scarlet bouncy castle of horror. Never did the ship feel so endless yet so tight. Maybe the ship itself was breathing to.

Never did you think you would be happy to see his ugly face.

He was down in the lower decks, seeming to be trying to access a door that Swansea had managed to block off. Swansea was stronger than he looked, and was a mechanic no less. Jerry rigged a makeshift lock for the door. If you recall correctly that was where the cryo-sleep pods were. He had been working to try and fix them up, but you doubt they survived. Guess it’s better to pretend you are doing something useful than do nothing at all.

“Hey Jim, whatcha doing?” You tried your best to act casual, as you watched him trying to get the lock off. A mixture of locking mechanics and bent metal that kept things in place. Jimmy just didn’t have the body weight to unbend them. Who ever said being fat wasn’t useful?

“Trying to get into this damn room. Be useful and help me, won’t you?” He grumbled, as he kept trying to pull the metal.

This was your chance.

This almost felt to perfect. He was distracted, hyper focused on something, and was crouching. You would have the upper hand. You can pull this off. You just had to fight your nerves.

“Yeah yeah yeah. I’m coming.” You would say, as you would walk closer to him. Flashes crossed your vision with each step. Was like blurs of a shadow puppet show. Visions of his talle outline pinning Anya to the ground, another of him pinning Daisuke to a wall. Even Swansea wasn’t free from the concept of being pinned to a surface and abused.

No one was safe with Jimmy still around.

You would soon be standing behind him, as he focused on the lock. He was right there. You just had to do it. Do what Anya showed you. His neck was exposed. It was right there. You just had to do it.

You pulled your weapon out, and took in a deep breath.

Just as you brought your arm to swing, Jimmy turned around.

Happened in a flash. You made contact with his skin, but it was his cheek instead. He would tumble over, and was quick to kick your legs out from under you. Had you slam your back to the ground. Knocked the wind out of you.

“I fucking KNEW IT-! YOU GOD DAMN BITCH-!” Was like he wasn’t even human anymore. Just as much of an animal on the outside as he was on the inside. You had to run. You had to get out of there. You fucked up your perfect chance. Your messed up and he’s going to remind you that you did.

You attempted to get up, but Jimmy was just that much faster than you. Your ankle was grabbed, and he was yanking you closer. You couldn’t stop yourself from screaming, as he would try and pry the medical tool from you.

“GET OFF OF ME YOU RAPIST PIECE OF SHIT-!” You nearly sobbed, as he stared down at you. Your wrists pinned above your head, as he just gawked at you. Was like he never even heard the word before.

“Rapist? You think I’m a fucking rapist? You little fucking bitch. I’m no such damn thing. What happened between us was nothing of the sort. It was just what happens when someone gets in my way. Reaching your goals isn’t a crime. Is it?” He asked you, as you kept struggling under him. Trying to get away.

“Fuck. YOU-!” And you slammed your face into his. Gave you a blinding headache instantly, but the shock of contact was enough to make him let go. You were soon crawling, and now running, away.

“IM GOING TO KILL YOU! IM GOING TO KILL ALL OF YOU LIKE IVE BEEN TRYING TO DO WITH CRASHING THIS STUPID SHIP!” His voice echoed like the demon from hell he was.

You never thought such fear like this could be in your body.

Your vision was a blurry mess from the head bang, but you just used the walls to offer you guidance. To try and find a place to breathe, and wait. To try again. You won’t give up. You refused to give up.

“COME BACK HERE-! YOU CANT RUN FOREVER! THERES NOWHERE ELSE FOR YOU TO GO-!” He would threaten you. His voice just seeming to be coming from everywhere. Was like he was inside of your own head. Like he was all of your insecurities crawling through your skull, and turning your brain into a mushy puddle of doubt and fear.

You still kept going.

You would find yourself back into the dinning hall, and took your chance in hiding in the kitchen area. Ducking down and hiding yourself by the elevated counters. If he kept running he shouldn’t notice you.

You would hold your knees, recollect yourself, and breathed.

The echoes of his running foot steps were like alarm bells in your ears. To hear them get closer, more distant, then closer again. Clearly having lost where you went, but still keeping up chance. How did he have so much energy? He must have been indeed hoarding resources. No way should someone surviving off mouthwash have this much stamina.

Your confused thoughts were cut short by the quickening pace of the foot steps. From banging on metal to proper flooring. He had entered the kitchen. He was breathing hard, and just boiling in anger.

“Where’s that fucking bitch? Where did that fucker go?” He would pant, as you would hear something sharp run over the counter marble. Must have grabbed a knife from his bedroom. Maybe that meant he left the door unlocked as well.

That could be your chance to get a proper weapon.

You just had to wait. Wait and pray he didn’t look over the counter.

You couldn’t tell where he was looking, but you needed to risk it. You would grab for one of the spoons off the ground, and threw it as far as you could. Into the hallway to the next part of the ship. You managed to get enough distance. The sound of metal hitting on the grates was loud. You swore you could feel the head thwip of Jimmy turning towards it.

“Found you-!” He shouted cockily, as he ran into that direction.

“Dumbass.” You muttered, as you soon ran the opposite way. Trying to find his room before he realized he was had.

You even went as far as to take off your shoes, so your feet made much less noise. Harder to be tracked and followed. Never did you think listening to Daisuke ramble about horror movie logic would come in handy. Gave some weird morbid hope that maybe Anya will be a final girl and make it out of here alive.

You would hear the foot steps echoing around you, as you tried to stalk quieter towards the dorm hallways. Was so hard to make out where they were going and coming from. The distant shouts of annoyance weren’t helping either. Was just making you more aware of your own mortality.

Luckily you managed to find the door. He snuck inside, and closed the door. Maybe he would think he locked it behind himself and not even think of checking in there. Maybe he was dumb enough to be fooled.

When in the room you couldn’t help but be disgusted by the sight. He really was hoarding food! The knives were also laid all out on his desk. Organized like he was planning to use them. There was also a trans communicator. Just as you thought there was. You thought it was suspicious there wasn’t a means to transfer information in case of an emergency. Even Pony Express had to have THAT. Suppose believing it was just consumed by foam was easier. Maybe it was and he dug it out himself.

No matter. You had hope.

You quickly grab the device, and turned it on. By god it WORKED!

“Hello? Hello?! This is the Tulpar for The Pony Express! We’ve been crash landed for months! Pony express has laid us off and hasn’t sent any rescue by proxy! Can you hear me?!” You couldn’t help but shout, as the transmitter would crackle.

“We read you loud and clear. How many are on the ship?” You were sobbing. No way. Someone was actually hearing you!

“Five! We have five people here! One in critical condition! Captain Curly! He’s alive! Alive but having suffered the most from the crash. We are running lower on medical supplies, we have very little food, we’ve been drinking fucking mouth wash to survive!” You weeped, as the person on the other end was taking in the information.

You said five for a reason.

“Keep on the line with us as we track your signal. Are you in any immediate danger?” The person asked.

“YES YOU ARE-!” Jimmy would shout behind you, before stabbing you right in your shoulder. You screamed bloody murder, as the person on the line gasped. Despite the pain, you were keeping your grip on the communicator. You weren’t letting go. No you fucking WONT.

“STUBBORN BITCH-!” He shouted at you, as you used your body to protect that communicator with all your body and life. You didn’t care if he was going to kill you now. You were getting everyone home. You were and you fufilled your mission.

“Just get it over with already you coward! How many people did you rape?! Huh?! Was Anya the first?! Like hell! She’s your most recent! Was Daisuke next?! Was I next?!” You called out, as you had nothing to lose anymore. You were going down with your own ship, unlike him.

“If you have to know, Anya wasn’t my last at least. She really thought leaving me alone with Curly was smart. Dumb whore-“ He would yank out the knife, making you bleed and scream. The hot searing pain was just beyond words. You were seeing stars, and not the kind you wanted.

“Was figuring how many I could get away with. Didn’t think she would actually tell anyone. Didn’t think much about her at all. Guess you live and learn. You live and l-“

Bang.

Silence.

Silence, the crackle of a communicator, and the ever breathing ship.

With a thud to the ground you were able to finally gain some vision to look over. Over to see Jimmy was dead on the ground, with a bullet hole through his forehead. Those terrifying eyes were now glsssy and empty. Looked almost relaxed. The only time he seemed to rest.

He was dead.

Your vision was blurring, and noise around you was muffled. All you could hear was muffled noise. Was like you were underwater. Your vision was starting to blur again as well. Couldn’t make out shapes.

You thought you saw someone with black hair above you. Seeming to grab something and speak into it. Was there something yellow to? Yellow and shaking you? There was also this almost pinkish blur as well. Came to you, and you swore you heard someone saying ‘you’re a hero’ before it all went to black.

One Month After The Call.

“Morning sunshine.”

You would groan, as you rubbed at your eyes. What happened? Was it all some bad dream? Where were you? This place didn’t look like the med-bay. Was so clean and white. There were windows too. Holy shit was that daylight? REAL daylight?

“Over here.”

You turned your head, and you saw him. Captain Curly. Looked so much better than when you last recalled him. His skin wasn’t as red, proper bandages were on him, and his lips even seemed to be healing back. Skin graphs? Was still laying in a bed, but far more cared for. Proper bedding, clean, IV bags, and…Wait…..Did he speak?!

“Been out a while. Don’t worry not much to catch you up on. You kinda went into a medical coma, from what Anya tried to explain to me. Everyone agreed to put you in the Cryo-Pod until help arrived. Was the only way to keep us both alive. All the resources had to go to me, sorry about that, so they had to pretty much freeze you in time. Big Swan had managed to make it function enough to work until the rescue team came for us. Welcome to the land of the living, hero.”

Even with his messed up complexion, and voice so hoarse you thought he himself was speaking through a communicator, you smiled. A hero huh? Wait. That meant….

“Did Anya pull the trigger?” You asked, with your own voice rasp from lack of use.

“Yeah. Yeah she did. We heard you screaming and she just….Couldn’t let you be his next victim. You gave her some bravery. I already knew she was brave, but damn. Who needs a Captain when you have her?” His laughter was painful, but you knew it was worth it.

“How’s everyone else?”

“Anya has been working with staff here. They took her in to be a doctor with them when they saw that the likes of me was still alive and functional. They really didn’t want to lose someone as smart as her. Daisuke has been glued here as much as us-“ He would weakly raise his arm, what’s left anyway, towards the sleeping solider. Curled up on a spare cot that was brought in for him. The staff having been understanding that he deserved to be around you both. His parents most likely were the ones to bring in all the video games for him to play with and show Curly as well. Even after so much he was still taking care of the ones he loved.

“Swansea?” You worried the most, since you wondered where he could be.

“Sueing the ever living fuck out of Pony Express for whatever damn dime they have left. Daisuke’s parents, and him, have been at the forefront on it all. He will come visit us soon. Get some rest, sunshine. You’ve earned it.” But you couldn’t help but worry. A worry that one person wasn’t accounted for.

“He’s dead. I do mean dead dead. By the time help arrived he had already well started decomposing. Swansea even went the extra mile and cut his head off from his body. Kinda overkill, but hey….Can’t take risks with monsters. Right?” You nodded at that, as you were able to rest.

No more Jimmy.

No more space ships.

Time to finally be a princess and get your beauty sleep.

“Sleep well, sunshine.”

“You to, Captain.”

A deep breath in of that sterilized air, fresh cut grass, and clean cotton.

You were free.

[writting-stuff-sometimes]

Treat You Better - Lando x Fem reader

Summary: Y/n broke up with Lando a while ago. One night she overhears a conversation that makes her want to protect him.

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, bad words, alcohol consumption.

Word Count: 16K

Notes: Nosey me really wants to know what happened at that nightclub. I hope you like it, and as always, feedback and requests are very welcome.

____________________________________

You hated this situation, you felt so bad for Lando. You couldn't shake away the memory of the model walking in that bathroom with her friend talking about how Lando was going to be the best way to help her career, and that she just had to deal with all the F1 bullshit, his and his friends' childish behavior for a couple of months to get enough contracts, and then she'll try to find true love. Honestly, you couldn't believe someone like her could love anyone but herself.

“I think you should warn him”

“I don’t know. If he still hates me as much as he did when I left, he’s going to think I’m doing it out of spite, or that I want him back”

“And you don’t?” Your bff looked at you with a knowing look.

“Off topic” You took a sip from your wine glass.

“Fine. But don't you think it is super weird? What were the odds of you and her being in London, at the same restaurant, inside the same bathroom as she decided to spill her stupid plan?"

"I must be paying some freaking karma" You sighted drifting into your own thoughts,

"Ok, enough about this, are you ready for tomorrow?"

"Are you seriously making me go?"

"Of course! Y/N, you need something to keep your mind off things and I don't want to go on my own, I barely know the guy"

Ellie had met a DJ through Tinder and he had invited her to a private party he was playing at, in one of the Monaco nightclubs.

As much as you wanted to stay back and melt into the anxiety the situation had put you in for the last month, you agreed because that was the best friend thing to do.

_________________________

You got to the nightclub, it was a launch party for a cosmetic brand. As you were led to the DJ booth, memories rushed back. You had joined Lando for a couple of nights during his DJ era. Fuck, you had missed this, and you missed him. You needed to keep those thoughts away and an open bar seemed like a good solution... or so you thought.

It had been a few hours and a considerable number of drinks when Ellie grabbed your hand and pulled you to talk to your ear, a strange choice since the music wasn't even that loud, it was one of those parties where influencers and models try to get contracts and to get known by PRs.

"Please, promise me we're not leaving"

"What?"

"Please, promise me. I'm having a good time" She pulled the puppy eyes trick, but what was she talking about?

"Ellie, how drunk are you?"

"Look over there" she discretely signaled to a table towards the exit.

What was she doing there? Was Lando there too? You almost panicked, but he couldn't be. He had raced in Baku that same day. Yes, you still knew his calendar by heart. Usually, he would fly back home the next day. This explained why she was throwing herself at some guy on her table.

"Fuck"

"You promised"

"I didn't"

"Please"

You knew this was a bad idea, you already dreaded the girl, and seeing her hump all over some guy, as Lando was away, made your blood boil. You tried to stay and keep her off your mind but it was impossible, there was no amount of alcohol in this world that could make this situation bearable.

"I'm going home"

"Y/n, please"

"If I have to see her dry-hump another guy for two more seconds I might actually punch her"

"Don't go! C'mon"

"Elle..."

"Fine, let me know when you're home"

You hugged your friend goodbye and rushed towards the exit. On your way out her voice caught your ear, that voice you couldn't keep out of your head. Clearly, you had offended the gods.

"Oh no! I'm single at the moment. I'm sooo tired of dating man-childs, like, they're fun but it's so exhausting trying to have a conversation when all they can talk about is themselves and how cool their little toys are"

Before your brain could catch up with your body, you were already making a beeline toward her.

"Hi, sorry, can I steal her for a second?" You faked a smile to the PR as you grabbed Mila by the arm and pulled her toward a dark corner of the club.

"What the fuck? Let me go!" She tried to shake your hand away when she recognized you. You finally let go of her and stood cornering her against the dark wall.

"Listen to me, you're going to stop this nonsense about Lando"

"Why? Does your career need a boost and you want him back?"

"At least I have a career people can talk about, and not just who's going between my legs"

"Fuck you" She tried walking away but you blocked her path.

"No, you're going to listen to me, you little shit. You and your stupid friends can think whatever you want about Lando, but I won't let you damage his image just so you can have your five minutes"

"I don't know what you're talking about" Her shit-eating grin seemed even worse to your alcohol intoxicated eyes.

"Really? So it wasn't you who told one of your friends that you just had to deal with this F1 bullshit for a little while to get enough contracts?" Her breath hitched for a second but then the smug face returned.

"Please" she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. You wanted to punch her stupid grin away.

"Last warning, either you stop this nonsense, or everybody will know what a shitty person you are"

"Honey, no one's going to believe you, they will just think you're a jealous, bitter, ex-girlfriend"

"Are you sure? Have you seen the comments?" You pulled your phone from your bag waving it in her face " You don't seem to have the crowd on your side. So, listen, "honey", you want to date him, be my guest, but stop talking shit about him, he doesn't deserve it"

"Fuck you" She pushed you to the side and walked back to her table. You turned around and people were staring at you, also a few phones were pointing your way. Fuck, this was going to be all over the place.

_____________________________

You were still shaking when you got home. You hadn't been this angry at someone in a long time.

You took a cold shower to ease the heat inside you, took a sweatshirt from your closet, and went to bed.

_____________________________

"I'm surprised you didn't punch her in the face, you're such a grown-up" Ellie sat by your side on the couch.

"I wanted to, bad. But I'm not jail material. What about you? I was expecting Mr. Dj to be here this morning"

"We went to his house"

"And?"

"It was nice and all but you know I don't sleep out-"

A hard knock on the door caused a stinging pain in your head. Stupid open bar.

"I'll get that" Ellie walked to the door as you laid your head back on the couch and closed your eyes trying to ease the hangover pain.

"Please tell me Mr. Dj sent coffee"

"I guess you're in for disappointment" His voice made your heart stop.

You took a deep breath before opening your eyes and leaning back up to look at him.

"Can you give us a minute, Ellie?" He spoke before you could say a word. Your best friend who looked as shocked as you, turned your way. You nodded yes.

"I'll be over there. Nice to see you Lan" She walked to her bedroom and mouthed "Tell him" as she passed you.

"Care to explain?" You could hear a slight hint of anger in his voice, and like the psycho you were, it was making your heart rush. You were always playfully pushing his buttons to anger him enough that it would lead to rough sex, but sex was not the final outcome this time. So you had to take another deep breath to ease the heat inside.

"Y/n?" His saying your name did not make things easier. The space around you started to feel smaller by the second. You stood up and walked towards the kitchen.

"Coffee?" Your voice hoarse, as if you had been screaming for hours.

For a second his mind drifted off topic, your outfit being nothing but an oversized sweatshirt caught him off balance, even more when he realized it was one of his. A buzzing on his phone brought him back to reality and the name on the screen back to the topic.

Mila Where are you, baby?

"No thanks, I'm not here for coffee, I'm here to find out what the heck happened last night?" He followed you but kept a safe distance.

You started working the coffee machine, a cheap way to escape his presence, as a fight took place in your mind, should you tell him? Was he going to believe you?

"Y/N, I don't have all day, why did you attack Mila?"

"I didn't attack her" You finally spoke.

"That's not what the media says, and what the video shows"

"There's a video? You can't be safe anywhere" You joked.

"I'm being serious" He finally walked up to you taking the empty mug from your hand. "What the fuck was that? just because you don't have anyone in your life, it doesn't mean you have to ruin my relationship with Mila"

Low blow, Norris.

"Relationship?! Please, Lando" You spat before you could process the words.

"What? Just because you didn't want a relationship with me it doesn't mean other people won't want it either"

"What made you think I didn't want a relationship with you?"

"Umm, the fact that you ran away in the middle of the fucking night after ONE fight, ghosted me for two weeks, and just sent an "I can't do this anymore" text before blocking me from every single place? I'm not stupid"

"It wasn't just one fight. We had been fighting so much for the last month, and that last time the only difference was the volume"

"But that happens, just because we love each other it doesn't mean everything is going to be sweets and roses"

The word love sent lighting throughout your body.

"Lan, I didn't leave because of those fights. I left because you weren't happy with me, with us" Your eyes started watering, leaving him had been one of the toughest decisions.

"What?"

"You were lying to me, you were hiding. Does that seem like a happy relationship?" He stared at you confused "I knew about your nightclub and dinner escapades when I wasn't going to the GP's. I never minded you going to those things without me, I don't know why you started lying about them?" You could see it on his face he knew he had screwed up.

"But I never cheated or anything, I promise"

"I know, but it felt as if I was keeping you from doing stuff you wanted and that you felt the need to hide from me" You felt like he was being forced to be with you, like you were keeping him from things he liked.

"Y/n, I was so fucking happy with you, I just...I wasn't thinking. I saw how others got in trouble for going out alone and thought, I... I fucked up" He walked closer toward you and shily played with the hem of your sweatshirt.

"Lan -" His phone rang in his hand, Mila's name on the screen shattering the moment completely. You sighed and stepped back "Just be careful, ok?"

"Careful?"

"She might not be what you think she is"

"What are you talking about?"

You bit your lip still unsure about spilling it all out.

"Y/N"

"I heard her at Scully's a month ago. She was with some friends, I was in the restroom when she got in and I heard her tell her friend that she just needed to deal with F1 for a while to get enough contracts" You kept the details to yourself, they felt unnecessary.

He looked hurt but not surprised.

"I'm sorry" You whispered.

"Is that why you were fighting yesterday?"

"Yeah, basically" You weren't sure if telling him the "attack" had also been fueled by seeing her dry-hump two different guys was good, it seemed he had received the message.

"Why would you care?" He softly asked, his green eyes fixed on yours.

"Lan" You turned back to the coffee machine, the noise grounding you and keeping your mind from drifting into the romantic scenarios it was dying to go to.

"Tell me" He took a step closer. You could feel his body heat radiate towards you.

"Just" You knew where this was leading, what he wanted to hear, but you weren't sure you wanted to say those words.

"Bull" His hand landed on your hip. The electricity from his touch made you jump.

"Lando, stop it please" You stepped to the side escaping his touch.

"No" He took you firmly by the waist and turned you around, trapping you against the counter. "Why would you do that?"

"What do you want to hear?"

"Just tell me why did you do that?"

"Please just leave it" You closed your eyes and threw your head back, this situation and the awful hangover were killing you physically and mentally. But all Lando could see was your neck, it was almost begging him to kiss it, but he fought the urge, he needed you to accept you wanted him too.

"No, I don't want to" His voice was almost childlike.

"God Lando, damn it! I did it because I couldn't stand her talking shit about you. Yes, you can be stubborn, annoying, and sometimes such a child that I want to kill you, but you're also a loving, caring, responsible, smart and such a wonderful human being you don't deserve someone treating you like that. Happy?!"

"Yes" He pulled you from your waist and joined your lips.

His flesh touching yours felt like a breath of fresh air. You couldn't fight it anymore, and as much as you wanted to deny it, you loved him, you loved him deeply.

Your hands found their place behind his neck, softly playing with his curls.

His hands traveled down from your waist to your thighs, caressing them and indulging in the warmth of your skin. He then squeezed your ass and pulled you to carry you to the sofa.

He sat on it as you straddle him. He gave one last peck to your lips and started kissing down your chin, reaching that sensitive spot on your neck right below your ear as his arms pressed you harder against his body. Making you moan at the feeling of the bulging sweats under you.

"I've missed you, don't leave me, please" He whispered softly against your skin.

His phone buzzed again inside his pocket.

"Lan, wait" You pushed his head away from your body.

"What?"

"You're with Mila"

A breathy laugh made his chest bounce.

"C'mon, we were just fooling around"

"Does she know that?"

"Now you care about her?"

"It's not her. But I can't be a hypocrite. I don't want the bad karma"

"Fine" He took the phone from his pocket and dialed. After a couple of rings, you heard that damn voice coming from the speaker.

"Baby, I've been calling you for hours, where are you? Lucia and I are waiting for you to go to the marina, I promised her we would tan on the yacht today"

"Mila, we're done"

The line went silent for a few seconds. You could almost picture the shocked face on the other side of the phone.

"What?" Her voice was a thousand octaves higher.

"What you heard. Go find someone else to leach from. See ya" He hung up with the biggest grin.

"Happy?" He said as he turned off his phone and placed it to the side.

"She's going to kill you"

"Good thing I have my own personal bodyguard" He buried his face on your chest, inhaling your scent, he had missed so much.

"Oh, now I'm your bodyguard?"

"Yup, fuck Jlo's bodyguard, now I have the hottest one"

"You're such an idiot"

"As long as I'm your idiot I don't care about anything else"

You pulled him to kiss again. His hands sneaked under the sweatshirt, caressing the soft skin inside it.

"Nice outfit by the way" Hi said against your lips.

You turned to look down at it and then realized you were wearing one of the sweatshirts you had stolen from him. You had worn it nonstop for weeks after the breakup until his scent had faded.

"I'm sorry I stole it"

"It looks way better on you"

He pulled you back to resume your makeout, as your hands played with the curls at the back of his head.

"You've been awfully quiet over here..." Ellie said out loud walking the hallway. "I just want to make sure you've not killed each oth-" She stared at the scene with a terrified look on her face.

"Please tell me you weren't having sex on the sofa"

"You're about a year too late"

"Ew, please tell me that's a lie. I really, really like that sofa and I don't want to have to burn it" She stared at you, disgust all over her face.

"He's joking" You punched his side playfully.

"Promise?" she asked

"Promise"

"Ok. And, as much as I'm happy you two are back together, please take it to the bedroom and give me five so I can be far far away before you start your unholy activities"

"Three is the most we can give you" Lando stood from the sofa carrying you.

"Two" he said kissing your neck and walking toward your bedroom.

"Nooo, c'mon, stop it" Ellie rushed to her room "Just let me get dressed and I'll be out of here, please!"

"You're mean" You smiled against his lips.

"And you're mine" Hi bit your lower lip closing your door with his foot.

"Send me a message when you're done and I can return"

"See you next week!" Lando yelled back. He returned his lips to your neck, removing the only piece of clothing covering you.

"Very funny!" Was the last thing you heard before the front door slammed.

As much as it sounded like a joke, Lando was determined to make up for lost time.

Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec, @ironmaiden1313, @formulas-bitch,