#i know two weekends isn't everything in the grand scheme of things but i'm just so tired of feeling like shit
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was feeling okay about bring sick for a week but then someone reminded me that tonight is the yearly rocky horror showing and now i am bummed as shit. fuck. the amount of things i have missed because of this illness
#AND I AM STILL FUCKING SICK#sb and l rambles#AND I STILL HAVE A FEVER!!! I'M STILL NOT BETTER!!!!!#i have spent basically all day lying in bed. that's resting. i'm supposed to be getting BETTER#god i'm so bored and it feels like i'm going to be here forever#i know i will probably heal eventually. but it's bad that i've been sick for this long!! right??#the doctor was like ''we tested you for everything we could and you seem fine. keep the fever down with OTC stuff and come back on monday''#and like. okay yeah i guess that's reasonable. but monday? MONDAY? MONDAY??#i know two weekends isn't everything in the grand scheme of things but i'm just so tired of feeling like shit#no one else is sick like this. which is good. but also. FUCK. what is WRONG. why is this HAPPENING
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ smokin' - toto w. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
toto knew he should quit. he had seen enough of the pamphlets in doctor's offices and read enough to know, smoking kills. and at his age, he needed to be bit healthier. he worked out, and ate well, but sometimes, after a hard race, there was nothing like a pack of cigarettes in his hand and somewhere to sit down. let the nicotine flood his rattled senses and having a nice relaxing evening. it was almost nostalgic, he remembered when the red of marlboro's logo was all over the jackets and cars of formula one. now replaced with sports drinks. while he wasn't smoking a pack of day to lazily have one or two felt nice, letting the smoke fill his lungs even if it occasionally made him cough. he felt like he was trying too hard if he tried vaping to get the same fix. like a desperate attempt to be 'young', so he stuck to the cancer sticks. plus if he quit smoking, then he'd have to stop participating in his favourite punishment. keeping an ash tray balanced on your back.
you had been a bad girl. you knew it. it was a 'crime' that you knew would be found out. someone stole their daddy's credit card and racked up a healthy charge all in one day. toto knew he promised you the world, but, you can't take what isn't yours. toto liked rules, he liked to make sure that you were following them. he couldn't have you on bad behavior, it would look poorly on him. that he couldn't keep his alarmingly younger girlfriend in line, that wasn't the association that someone like toto wanted. so while he didn't return the items you bought, you'd have to pay him back somehow. which meant enduring a punishment. which meant him seated on the couch, lounging with a cigarette in his hand, getting his fix after a particularly rough weekend. and you, naked, save for the necklace with his name on it around your throat. the name torger almost dangled in the low light of the living room. the smell of cigarette smoke filled the air. right now you were nothing more than a piece of furniture made to hold his expensive ashtray. "don't drop it, schatzi." toto's voice was low, "worth quite a bit. probably more than that little house you grew up in." he exhaled smoke, "look at me." you looked over to him, being on your hands and knees for so long made you a little shaky. your arms felt like jelly and you knew your knees were rubbed raw. toto smiled a little, the kind of dangerous smile that made something run through you. it excited you and made you hot. you said, "please, daddy." and toto shook his head, "the punishment was until i finished this. the worse behaved you are, the longer this will take." you swallowed and kept your gaze on him, there was something some domineering about him. it was almost scary. he was the big man in charge, the team principal. and while he made all the decisions, you just had to be by his side and behave. but, you couldn't even do that. you watched him took another drag of his smoke and you rubbed your thighs together, everything burned from the position you were in. toto spoke once more, "i give you the world and you still want more. you should be know better by now, meine prinzessin." he leaned forward a little bit and got some of the ash off of his smoke into the ashtray, "you're a smart girl, no? if you're not smart, you are at least well behaved. but even now i am questioning that." you shook your head and looked down at the hardwood floor, "no daddy, i'm good. i promise." you bit the inside of your cheek, "please." toto sighed and exhaled smoke, "schatzi. i am trying to believe you, but it's hard."
the money was nothing, honestly he found it amusing. it was barely anything in the grand scheme of things, under four hundred dollars. barely a scratch in toto's finances. but to watch you whimper and whine, well, that was worth more than anything. but, toto had rules. he was the head of the relationship, the one who took care of you, and while it wasn't cheap, he expected for things to be followed. another drag and he eyed your quivering form. he knew you liked this, if he moved a little he could see your soaked pussy. you got off to being toto's little toy, used for his pleasure. it made him thankful tha the found you before someone with worst intentions got their claws into you first. you were too sweet at times, it all mixed in perfectly with your brattiness. "i'm starting to think you like this. you like getting into trouble. did someone not have rules when they were young? didn't get the attention from your real daddy." his tone was harsh. he saw you quiver a little more, he must've struck a nerve, "poor little princess didn't get the love she wanted, how sad. i bet daddy was too busy with everyone else and left no time for you." he knew your history inside and out, he even met your father. he knew that any psychologist would have a field day if they took one look at you and him. a younger girl who wanted an older man to take care of her. and an older man with a thirst for younger women who didn't like being asked difficult questions.
"but don't worry, schatzi. that's why i'm here. to make it all better."
when he was finished with the cigarette, toto purposefully missed the ash tray and put it out on the small of your back. you whimpered and bucked your hips, toto was quick enough to grab the glass ashtray before you made more of a mess. "schatzi." he said, "you need to be careful." and he saw the burn on your back. it made a deep part of him very excited at the sight of you. maybe next time your skin should be his ash tray, litter would unblemished skin with the burns of cigarettes. "please daddy." you gasped, you ended up with your cheek against the floor. unable to hold much longer, and now with the burn on your back. it all flooded your head. toto put the ash tray on the coffee table and said, "if you want to finish yourself off, princess. you better do it yourself. you've become lazy because i do everything for you. if you want to feel better, you have to do it yourself. you're a big girl." he watched you swallow before you put your hand between your thighs and rubbed your achy clit. your cheek still against the floor with your hips raised, your back as sloped as you pleasured yourself.
"please, daddy." you whined as you pleasured yourself. the smell of smoke filled your brain and while it made you scrunch your nose at the heavy scent. you continued to make yourself feel good. you panted heavily like a dog as you rubbed your clit against the side of your hand. your other hand was on the floor. you tensed up, your hand covered in your wetness as you whined and whimpered. toto was hard in his slacks, but he was a man of control. unlike you. you were whiny and loud, your pants heavy while your squirmed against your own touch. while toto would've been happy to seat you on his cock. maybe even have another cigarette while he used your pretty breasts as an ashtray, you needed to learn your lesson. so either you got yourself off, or you'd be left sexually frustrated. he said to you, his voice a rumble that made a shiver run through you, "spoiled little girl. you had me convinced, now you've become spoiled. but." he shifted in his spot on the couch. leaned for a little bit to get a better view of your body, "i am more than happy to train you all over again. it's almost the summer break, which means, it will just be you and i. i wonder how many marks i can leave on you. go to the dutch grand prix with my marks on you inside and out. might turn a few heads." his words made pleasure flood your core, "maybe a collar. even a leash so i could tie you somewhere and no have you get lost." he sighed, "you always wander off. he watched you pleasure yourself and the sight was erotic. it wasn't long before your moans were tight and your body was tense like a bow. you looked beautiful, blissed out beside toto not even fucking you. with a few more drags of your hand across your clit, you came and then you ended up fully flat on the floor. your brain felt elsewhere and your body felt the weight of an orgasm across your achy joints. your tongue was even stuck out a little as you tried to center your thoughts once more.
toto chuckled lightly before he got up off the couch and went to you. you got a view of the bulge in his slacks before his face, you tried to get yourself up to undo his belt. but instead he grabbed you by the hair. he looked at you as he said, "i don't fuck on the floor like an animal. your punishment isn't over, but you should be lucky i'll even fuck you on a bed." and you, the good girl you were, nodded to your daddy. you words were simple as you got up, "yes daddy." <3
a/n: i lost control of the keyboard
#bunny writes#bunny drabbles#reader insert#formula one imagine#formula 1#formula one fanfiction#formula one smut#f1 smut#f1 x reader#torger toto wolff#toto wolff smut#toto wolff x reader#toto wolff#toto wolff fanfic#mercedes racing#torger wolff#formula 1 fic#formula one#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 rpf#f1 fic#f1#f1 drabble#f1 x female reader#f1 one shot#f1 x you#cw: smoking
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cut back down to my knees
the last two weeks have been real tough to weather and in spite of my base instincts, i will actually get into it this time. grandpa's in the hospital doing physical therapy after a nasty fall fractured a bit of bone close to his hip and i'm just so... angry and exhausted. he's relatively alright now and sprightly enough to fuss over every nurse on his floor again, but god. what a scare. even as i write this with the intent to publish, the heat is crawling up my throat from guilt. it feels so wrong for me to say i'm struggling when he's doing his best to get better and there's not anything i can actively do sans stretch his toes or hold his hand when i see him. it's not really in my repertoire to talk about the nitty-gritty of grief because as per asian family tradition i am trained in the art of repressing emotion — but the morning of grandpa's operation i woke up in a cold sweat and nearly threw up in bed trying to catch my breath, so i figure this is the point where i either come clean or reset all the progress forged with my meds. i've been trying to get my life together since slipping up senior year of college but every sincere attempt to do so has been bogged down by a roiling fog of anxiety. i can't recall a single month in the past five years someone i loved wasn't either in treatment or recovery or relapse; i am genuinely so afraid of making plans beyond a single day at a time, it's crazy. forget ambition. nothing gets me to freeze up faster than an invite to hang out. i worry i'll have to cancel last minute for whatever medical emergency crops up or force someone to accommodate me, and truly the only way i have managed to push through the fear of ruining all my relationships outside family is the fervor and patience with which my friends have reached out. it's the small stuff that's been fucking me up, mostly. grandma passed away in march after a three year long fight with cancer, and we finally got around to selling the bed 1 she used when she was well enough to be confined at home. this weekend i overheard mom and her sister are planning to buy another for grandpa while he stays in manila to recover. 2 it sucks, but it's nobody's fault, and it's killing me to be so hung up over something so objectively minor in the grand scheme of things. i can't even explain myself properly. no matter how many times i'm told suffering isn't a competition, venting about how hard everything's been feels awfully close to equating people to burdens, being selfish, or shirking responsibility. i'll never get used to it.
i think i am going to kick my feet up for a bit, though. really hit the brakes and take some time to cool off and regroup. normally i'd do my best not to falter but i really am tired now. gotta make taking it easy an agenda. i can tell because i've been writing more than ever; for all that i love it i know the signs. it's usually cause for concern when the tide is always high.
1: not exactly a medical bed but one large enough to house those inflatable wedges to support sitting up. 2: didn't really have a proper one here because he usually lives up north in the province with my other aunt and uncle to run the family hardware store (though these days most of his time is dedicated to gardening on the roof and looking after his prized chicken coop.)
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