#there's only two will wood are you proud

[childoferebus]

I was challenged tagged by @parrot-parent​ to come up with an answer for every one of these music questions.  Please learn more about my music tastes than anyone should.

1:A song you like with a color in the title: Favorite Color is Blue by Robert Delong ft. K.Flay, which I am not allowed to link to directly for some reason.  I’m going to get The Vermin Survive tattoo’d at some point when I can figure out a design for it.  (If you’re a tattoo artist, hmu 👀

2:A song you like with a number in the title

A Complete List of Fears Ages 5-28 (Aprox) by The Yellow Dress. I want to lick it.

3:A song that reminds you of summertime

The first thing that came to mind was When It’s Over by Sugar Ray, because I’m absolutely ancient by tumblr standards.

4:A song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about

Love Me Dead by Ludo, but not for the reasons you’d think.

5:A song that needs to be played LOUD

Hellbent by Mystery Skulls, which is only correct when it’s loud enough to blow my speakers and my eardrums.

6:A song that makes you want to dance

Zoot Suit Riot by the Cherry Popping Daddies. Shouts to the time my prom date got pissed at me for dancing to this when they didn’t want to lol

7:A song to drive to

On the Road Again by Willy Nelson is the first song on my roadtrip playlist, as is good and right.

8:A song about drugs or alcohol

Semi-Charmed Life by Third Eye Blind is the most obvious song about crystal meth that has ever been played and I don’t care it is my favorite song of all time, it delights me

9:A song that makes you happy

Cheesecake Truck by King Missile.  So then I got this idea about driving a cheesecake truck

10:A song that makes you sad

Your Voice as I Remember It by AJJ.  I have an entire playlist dedicated to songs I can’t sing along with without crying but this was the first that came to mind.  Notable other mentions are What Sarah Said by Death Cab for Cutie and A Plea from a Cat Named Virtue by the Weakerthans

11:A song that you never get tired of

BlackBoxWarrior (OK Ultra) by Will Wood. I can and have listened to this song on repeat for hours at a time.

12:A song from your preteen years

Preteens.  Jesus. Are you sure you want me to delve back that far?  Anyway, when I was around that age I was really into Jewel, so probably Little Sister.  Which is also a song about drugs.

13:One of your favorite 80’s songs

Safety Dance by Men Without Hats is the correct answer.

14:A song that you would love played at your wedding

Brand New Colony by the Postal Service.  I eloped so I don’t get any wedding music, but I’ve made a wedding playlist for my OCs and I’m totally normal about the fact that this is the first song

15:A song that is a cover by another artist

You Oughta Know by the Killing Moon is one of my favorite covers of all time by virtue of them not changing the pronouns

16:One of your favorite classical songs

The hardest part of this meme isn’t thinking of songs for every ask it’s picking which out of the dozen possible answers for every question that I’m going to go with. I listened exclusively to classic piano for like 2 years in my teens.  Anyway, tough call but I gotta go with the Moonlight Sonata Third Movement by Beethoven.  From what I was told, it was written as he was losing both his sight and his hearing and it’s so aggressive and mournful because of it.  Beethoven was a prick but man the dude could play.

17:A song that would sing a duet with on karaoke

Snow Miser/Heat Miser. Get that shit stuck in your head and sing with me.

18:A song from the year that you were born

Listen I’m not going to date myself out loud so if you want to know that bad you can look and see.

19:A song that makes you think about life

This might be the hardest one to answer yet.  I don’t know man, every song makes me think about life. All of them do. What aspect of life? What topic? So here’s one, I guess: White Noise by Will Wood.

20:A song that has many meanings to you

Weak and Powerless by A Perfect Circle. I know it’s about drugs, but man if you take it literally...

21:A favorite song with a person’s name in the title

Jacqueline by Circa Waves. Please watch the video. Please.

22:A song that moves you forward

Point to Prove (I Was An Ugly Kid) by Bug Hunter. yeah.

23:A song that you think everybody should listen to

Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen) by Baz Luhrman.  Get to it.

24:A song by a band you wish were still together

Inexplicable by the Correspondents.  If I don’t think about it too hard I’ll be fine.

25:A song by an artist no longer living

Faint by Linkin Park. IF I DON’T THINK ABOUT IT TOO HARD I’LL BE FINE.

26:A song that makes you want to fall in love

Passenger Seat by Death Cab for Cutie. 

27:A song that breaks your heart

Well if you’re going to do this to me twice in a row, What Sarah Said by Death Cab for Cutie.  I put my mp3 player on shuffle after my adopted grandfather died suddenly and violently to try and calm myself and this is the first song that played and I’ve never been okay since.  Love is watching someone die.

28:A song by an artist with a voice that you love

Grace for Sale by Terrance Zdunich.  Tough call but considering I stole his voice for Taj Na...

29:A song that you remember from your childhood

I Will Buy You a New Life by Everclear, which one of my classmates was obsessed with, and played every lunch at school for months.  Jimmy you were 12 what was it about this song that spoke to you so much

30:A song that reminds you of yourself

Kokopelli Face Tattoo by AJJ.  I have a viper rune tattoo because of it.

[malwarechips]

hey check out my house on a mc server im playing w/ a friend

[homunculus-argument]

Another worldbuilding application of the "two layer rule": To create a culture while avoiding The Planet Of Hats (the thing where a people only have one thing going for them, like "everyone wears a silly hat"): You only need two hats.

Try picking two random flat culture ideas and combine them, see how they interact. Let's say taking the Proud Warrior Race - people who are all about glory in battle and feats of strength, whose songs and ballads are about heroes in battle and whose education consists of combat and military tactics. Throw in another element: Living in diaspora. Suddenly you've got a whole more interesting dynamic going on - how did a people like this end up cast out of their old native land? How do they feel about it? How do they make a living now - as guards, mercenaries? How do their non-combatants live? Were they always warrior people, or did they become fighters out of necessity to fend for themselves in the lands of strangers? How do the peoples of these lands regard them?

Like I'm not shitting, it's literally that easy. You can avoid writing an one-dimensional culture just by adding another equally flat element, and the third dimension appears on its own just like that. And while one of the features can be location/climate, you can also combine two of those with each other.

Let's take a pretty standard Fantasy Race Biome: The forest people. Their job is the forest. They live there, hunt there, forage there, they have an obnoxious amount of sayings that somehow refer to trees, woods, or forests. Very high chance of being elves. And then a second common stock Fantasy Biome People: The Grim Cold North. Everything is bleak and grim up there. People are hardy and harsh, "frostbite because the climate hates you" and "stabbed because your neighbour hates you" are the most common causes of death. People are either completely humourless or have a horrifyingly dark, morbid sense of humour. They might find it funny that you genuinely can't tell which one.

Now combine them: Grim Cold Bleak Forest People. The summer lasts about 15 minutes and these people know every single type of berry, mushroom and herb that's edible in any fathomable way. You're not sure if they're joking about occasionally resorting to eating tree bark to survive the long dark winter. Not a warrior people, but very skilled in disappearing into the forest and picking off would-be invaders one by one. Once they fuck off into the woods you won't find them unless they want to be found.

You know, Finland.

[gojosprettyprincess]

Thinking about sitting on older bf Nanami’s lap and cock warming him while he helps you with your homework. His reading glasses are structurally perched on the bridge of his nose, framing his focused gaze while he’s attentively leaning over your shoulder to read the big paragraphs on your laptop that's based on the questions that you yet have to answer.

He consistently reminds you that he can't keep continuing to do all your homework for you but at the end of the day, he always ends up completing most of it. And it only makes your pussy even leakier and wet around his stuffy length because of how intelligent and well-disciplined Kento is. Even if his cock is furiously twitching in your warm cunt and silently begging to be milked dry, directly into your little womb. He’s still so serious and concentrated and it did nothing but fuel your arousal.

A thick glob of cum is gradually sliding out the ends of your stretched cunt, messily coating his golden blonde huffs of pubic hair that’s encircling his veiny base and he can feel how fucking soaked and messy you are on his lap but doesn’t say anything about it and completely ignores it.

Even with how much you're squirming on top of him, practically grinding yourself like some cock starving slut on his fat cock at this point— undoubtedly struggling to concentrate on the assignment because of the subtle scent of his expensive cologne that’s lingering on his blue button-up shirt, it’s filling your nostrils and driving you out of your mind because of how manly and sexy he smells.

He coolly ignores your complaints and pleas as you grow increasingly restless and eager, begging him to start moving because of how fucking impatient and horny you are. But he makes it very clear that he won't do anything to you unless you finish the rest, independently. By yourself.

And that’s Kento Nanami’s successful tactic on “how to get your girlfriend to finish her homework within 15 minutes”.

Because soon after you’re done he’s rewarding you and bending you over the desk, smothering you against the smooth wood, and crushing your body with his larger, muscular frame while having one thick, veiny hand clasped tightly around your neck to keep you still as he leans into you and deeply breaths and inhales in the valley of your delicate neck— engulfing your sweet scent and praising you through rich, ragged breaths about how he's sooo proud of you for finishing it up on your own and how much of a good girl you are, even if some of his words might come off a bit mean…

Telling you “You did so well sweetheart. Can’t believe I have a dirty cock hungry slut for a girlfriend. Is this what I need to do to get you to finish your schoolwork from now on? Hm? By promising to award this greedy fucking cunt with my cock?” while his angry mushroom tip is making love to your g-spot and he’s mumbling a whole bunch of shit about how he’s going to reward you with his thick, gooey cum and stuffing the tight space in your cunny with his sperm till it’s all full and dripping.

And when he cums, he pushes himself flushed deep into your backside, ensuring that every drop of his creamy release that he empties from his aching balls is pushed as far inside of you as possible before he slowly pulls out and then lifts you up, bridal style to take you to the bathroom so he can run a bubble bath for the two of you. :3

[sttoru]

𝝑𝑒 SYNOPSIS. sukuna is shameless—not caring if anyone were to ever catch him righteously claiming ownership over his favorite concubine in the garden.

wc. 1.5k-ish

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, pwp. exhibitionism. size difference. dumbification \\ objectification. has two c.ocks. hair pulling. use of spit (yeah ik i wouldnt write for it but its sukuna). breeding themes. overstimulation. reader gets called ‘little girl, slut’. sukuna’s a menace and loves to create drama between his concubines

“shut up. i don’t care if they’re here or not,” sukuna grunts, tightening his grip on your fleshy thighs as his lower cock slams in and out your sloppy cunt without much thought. the sound of pruning shears cutting off branches is easily overwhelmed by the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin.

you feel sorry for those servants who’re just doing their job tending to the garden. none of them dare to look your way. they’re sweating, eyes solely focused on the branches they’re cutting, acting like they are not hearing the sinful moans and grunts in the distance. if they look, they’re dead. that much is known.

everything is blurry to you. all you can manage to do is let out a string of pleasure filled whines. your body is easily overpowered and held up against the harsh wood of the nearby wall. your thighs are spread in an awfully painful way, your knees up to your chest. quite literally folded in half.

“i said eyes on me, y’ fuckin’ slut,” sukuna barks. he does not have the patience today. you breaking the intense eye contact with him only worsens his mood. one of his veiny hands tug at your hair. the others hold you up—not allowing you to even think of getting back on your feet until your tight cunt is done milking him for what he’s worth.

you gasp and sukuna takes the chance to grab your jaw with yet another free hand. “open y’r mouth,” his hips do not still for even a second. they roll and ground against yours, the surrounding skin near his pelvis stained with your wet juices. he could smell it. just as nasty and dirty as he wants it to be.

you part your lips and keep them like that, not wanting to piss sukuna off even more. he grins at the sight of your red tongue instinctively rolling out like the obedient little girl you are. he spits right into your mouth, “swallow.”

you do so without second thought. the warm liquid trickles down your throat. sukuna watches in satisfaction, drilling into you until your insides are complete mush. you’re drooling over yourself already—clearly having lost control over your rationality.

you sniffle and try to hold onto sukuna’s biceps. your small fingers curl around the shape of them, nails digging into his flesh. every time you think sukuna’s finally letting up, he only increases his inhuman pace. “my l-lord, ‘s too much,” you cry out. your body could only handle so much pleasure before it’d break down. your pussy is convulsing around his girthy cock, feeling his other sliding back and forth over your sensitive clit.

the king of curses shuts you up with a hiss. his bottom set of eyes is focused on the impressive scene of your tiny pussy swallowing his cock so easily. he’s feeling proud of the fact that he’s molded you into the perfect concubine for him and his carnal pleasure.

sukuna has fucked you silly enough times to know how to get you under his spell. his fingers brush over your hard nipples, grabbing the squishy flesh of your tits as they bounce with each of his thrusts. he leans his head down towards yours. his rough, raspy voice makes your body heat up, “no, no. it’s never too much for my little girl, right? she can easily take ‘nother load f’me.”

your breath hitches and sukuna realises it worked. he knows just what to say to manipulate you into giving in. so he can fuck you senseless for how long he wants. you’re a sucker for the fact that he calls you his. that’s what you are—you’re his woman. only his and no one else’s. the claim of ownership makes your pussy clench.

“y-yes, my lord. i can take another, i can,” you breathe out, head swaying from side to side, not mentally able anymore to keep up with sukuna’s intense libido. yet, your body is still active, squeezing around sukuna’s dick as he promised you more of his precious cum.

the king of curses snickers, amused by just how fast you gave in. “that’s what i thought, hah,” he’s realised that his hold on you knows no bounds. you’re his little toy. the only one he wants to ravish these days. and the only one worth of carrying his seed.

you’re still thinking about the way he’s called you ‘his little girl’. it’s driving you closer to the edge. you start to get louder, completely ignoring your inner thoughts that begged you to have some decorum; to try and hide the fact that you’re getting slutted out in the courtyard.

there’s not much hiding it anyway since the servants have a clear understanding of what’s going on behind them. “mghh, please—please need more!” you mewl and sukuna listens. his red eyes darken with desire as you get into it. he loves to experience that lust driven side of yours. a complete opposite to your usual formal and shy self.

“louder, c’mon. let them know i’m fucking you good,” sukuna sneers, enjoying the mind games he is playing with you. you’re too cockdrunk to even notice. the them in his sentence refers to his other concubines. he knows that you’re secretly craving to get revenge on them and show them just how well you get dicked down by him every single day.

unlike them, who rarely get graced by his touch. that is, when you’re unavailable.

you do as told and increase the volume of your erotic moans, letting everyone around the estate know what you’re getting up to. not like anyone could interfere. sukuna wouldn’t dare let them live a second after.

“that’s it, yeah,” the sorcerer grunts and rams his length repeatedly into you, cursing at the way you’re gripping him so tightly. you’re so dripping wet that he slips out of you for a second. he moves his hips, angling them better to slam back inside of you.

however, you’re one step ahead. your shaky hand reaches down between your legs and you quickly guide his tip to your entrance, urging him to push between your moist folds again. “nasty fuckin’ girl,” sukuna scoffs at your desperation, though secretly thrives off it. he switches cocks and shoves the upper one into your cunt.

you gasp. you’re so used to him to the point that you could sense the difference between his dicks. the upper one has more veins and is a tad bit girthier. you hiccup and nearly choke on your own moans and spit from the change of pace and dicks. “ngh, ‘tis so deep, my lord—” you whine loudly and your hands move to hold your breasts, stopping them from painfully jiggling around in every direction.

sukuna hums in content as he continues his rough thrusts. he can feel his balls twitch and clench, ready to shoot his sperm all up in your womb like you deserve. though, he doesn’t want to end this moment too quickly. he wants to extend it.

“c’mere,” sukuna grumbles and stops pounding your poor, aching cunt. he stills his dick inside you and allows you to cling onto his tall stature, lifting you away from the wall. he silently urges you to wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you.

the robes of your kimono get left behind on the patch of grass near the wall of the main house. there’s a few droplets of white liquid that’s stained the grass, right where sukuna and you were standing at seconds ago.

you don’t think about anything anymore as you babble about how full you felt with his cock all the way in you. the fat tip brushes against your cervix with each step sukuna takes towards his next destination.

“keep talkin’ to me, doll. tell me how good it feels to take my cock,” he grins smugly as he carries your little body like a trophy into the main building—not paying mind to any maids who he passes by. they’re shocked by the sight of their lady in such a state, though are only able to bow at the two of you.

sukuna finally stops in front of the dinner table. the same table you always have dinner at with him and his other women. he places your back against the surface, big hands holding you down by your hips. “there we go,” he coos mockingly, seeing how you’re completely fucked out, yet still needing more of him.

the king of curses has his own twisted reasons of bringing you here. looking outside of the window, you notice how the sun is starting to set. that’s also the moment you realise his hidden motive.

the other concubines will sooner or later gather at the dining hall to eat supper. they’d expect a peaceful meal, though instead, they’ll be greeted by the sight of their dear lord screwing his favorite. it’ll be a painful blow to them.

which is exactly what the ruthless man wants to achieve.

sukuna licks his lips and all of his eyes focus on you solely, “gonna enjoy my dinner a bit earlier t’day, yeah?”

CR. STTORU 2024

[fandom]

Top 24 of 2024

Well, well, well, look what we have here. If it isn’t 52 weeks’ worth of data drawn from the exemplary original posts you’ve been producing day in, day out, combined with the likes, reblogs, and search data—all of it weighed, ranked, and presented here for your viewing pleasure. In news that will come as a shock to no one at all, 2024 was the year of Artists on Tumblr. But quite right, too, as just a cursory scroll through the fanart, illustrations, digital pieces, paintings, textiles, and more will attest. It’s a goldmine. But this ain’t just any goldmine, this is your goldmine, and we’ve got abundant gratitude for the wonderful work you’ve shared this last year. 

Dungeon Meshi won hearts and minds with its cozy feel, its cookery, its cast of eclectic, likable characters, and a delightfully off-center vibe. Farcille made for the sapphic love story we didn’t know we needed—and the inspiration for endless, exquisite fanart. There was much appreciation for season one, and excitement abounds for season two. But there were endings as well as beginnings, sadly, as the much-loved Jujutsu Kaisen brought six years of sublime storytelling to a close with Chapter 271. Good faced Evil, a nephew faced an uncle, and some really liked it, and others really did not. Discourse ensued, as discourse is wont to do. 

Television! And lots of it! 2024 was the year in which animation ruled supreme with an embarrassment of riches to plunder. Gravity Falls and The Book of Bill became your fall fixations and simply refused to stop trending for seemingly an age (a Good Thing). Bill Cipher and Stanford Pines both made the Top 24 in their own right as you shipped them to high hell, with Billford coming top of Ships for 2024. Speaking of Hell, Hazbin Hotel was the new kid on the block. And, after a five-year wait, the new kid charmed—it was filthier, funnier, raunchier, and more heartfelt than you could have hoped for. 

When it comes to hope, the times continue to be challenging, and the news can threaten to overwhelm. 2024 was no different. But you all painted the dash every color of the rainbow, stood loud and proud, and supported your ever-growing community online and offline in the struggle for LGBTQIA+ rights. While folks continue to voice their distress and concern for the ongoing crisis in Palestine, they also fight the good fight with activism and fundraising efforts across the dash. These may be dark days, but you all work tirelessly for the greater good as only you know how.

Looking after oneself is vital in these trying times, and you’ve all done just that in your own inimitable fashion. Cats still rule Tumblr as bears still poop in woods, and everyone has taken essential time to peruse the dashboard’s plethora of cat GIFs, cat art, boopin’ cats, cats of yore, and so on. You’re keeping things similarly wholesome with some more Tumblr mainstays: cottagecore, and its sister aesthetic, naturecore, imagine a simpler, greener, and quieter time. A time where the breeze billows softly through the long grass and gently turns the blades of the windmill; a time where we, too, might poop in woods.

The only thing more important than looking after oneself is treating oneself, and what better way to do that than gaming? Baldur’s Gate 3 made a most impressive leap from #21 last year to #7 in 2024, as the need for sexy monsters and beautiful beasties becomes ever more imperative with each passing year. Pokémon may have dropped a little from five to 11, but these games and shows still hold a dear place in your hearts—as demonstrated by your bountiful and beautiful fanart.

Here are the 24 most-mentioned things on Tumblr in 2024.

Artists on Tumblr

Palestine

Dungeon Meshi

Gravity Falls

Hazbin Hotel

Baldur's Gate 3

Cats of Tumblr

Jujutsu Kaisen

The Batman Universe

Pokémon

One Piece

Good Omens

Marcille Donato | Dungeon Meshi

Laios Touden | Dungeon Meshi

Cottagecore

Hermitcraft

LGBTQIA+

Bill Cipher | Gravity Falls

Naturecore

Doctor Who

Percy Jackson

Falin Touden | Dungeon Meshi

Stanford Pines | Gravity Falls

Jason Todd | the DC universe

Feeling inspired? Want to create a dedicated place to discuss the things you love with the other people who love them? Create a Community here on Tumblr to do just that.

[uluvjay]

4 for me, 4 for you-L. Norris

Lando Norris x fem! Reader

In which Lando has reached his fourth career win and decides to show his partner how appreciative he is of her constant support throughout them all

Warnings?; SMUT, multiple orgasms, cursing, kissing, semi-public sex, car action, drinking/ mentions of alcohol, sorry if I missed any errors!

Lando pushed his way through bodies dressed in papaya his eyes searching all around for your familiar frame, people called his name left and right but he was determined to find you.

He had only saw you for a split second before he was rushed off towards the post race conference and it had been an hour since that.

Rushing up the stairs of the McLaren hospitality suite he made it to the door of his drivers room, pushing open the wood he found you sitting on the small couch.

He smiled the second your eyes met, catching your excited frame as you jumped from the couch and into his arms.

“I’m so fucking proud of you!” You cheered as you pressed kissed all over his face.

Lando giggled at your antics pressing your warm body closer to his as he caught your lips and licked them in a sweet kiss.

You smirked when you heard him grunt as your fingers tangled into his sweat and champagne coated hair.

Setting you down on your feet Lando pulled back, a bright smile on his face as he admired you for a moment.

“Thank you, not just for this year but for every year. I know they’ve been tough but you’ve stuck by my side through it all, when I got my first win I thought it was pure luck and now we’re constructor champions.” He spoke softly.

“I’ll always be here for you baby, I love you.” You smiled back pulling him in for a quick peck.

“I love you too.”

“Now get showered and changed big guy, it’s time to celebrate number four and that championship.” You cheered.

“Shit I didn’t even realize that was my fourth win.” He shook his head stepping away to strip off his race suit.

“Number four for number four.” You laughed reclaiming your seat on the couch.

Your words had Lando stopping in his tracks as a filthy idea ran through his mind, he took a look at you to find you immersed in your phone not noticing his still form.

You’d been there for every win and while there was proper celebratory sex after each one Lando felt with this one being his lucky number and such a big with securing the constructors you deserved a little something in return for always being his best support.

-

The first one came on the ride back to the hotel from the track, it was just the two of you in the back of the tinted and spacious Escalade with the divider up to separate you from the driver.

“C’mere baby” Lando patted the seat right next to his.

You smiled unbuckling your seatbelt and sliding closer so you were pressed against his side, Lando followed your actions by unbuckling his as well before pulling you on top of him.

“Lando wha-“ you gasped at the sudden movement.

“-shh, need you to be quiet for me okay?”

He smirked sinisterly as you nodded obediently watching as he bunched up your pretty sundress before bringing your core down to meet his denim covered thigh.

Your hand flew to cover your mouth at the feeling but it was quickly removed by lando who replaced it with his lips instead.

His tongue fought against yours before ultimately winning, he could feel the way your chest heaved against his.

Your breathing becoming more strained, muscles tense as Lando brought a large hand to the middle of your back-pressing you closer to him.

His other hand guided your hips over his thigh, he could feel the wet spot forming but he could care less.

Not when he had you desperately trying to hold back your cries of pleasure, the mix of rough denim and lace of your panties rubbing right against your clit had your orgasm rapidly approaching.

you humped his thigh desperately as everything was beginning to be to much from the heat of Landos lingering touch to the pleasure burning in your lower stomach.

“Shit” you panted in his neck biting down on the fabric of his expensive shirt to keep yourself quiet.

“Doing so good pretty girl.” He cooed his rough hand coming to stroke your hair encouragingly.

He could feel your cunt throbbing against his thigh, your orgasm no doubt close added a firm hand to your lower back once again helping you along as he felt your movements slowing.

“Shit, shit, shit-I’m cumming.” You whimpered into his throat.

Lando pulled your head back by your hair watching the breathtaking expression on your face as your orgasm ripped through you.

Your body shook against his as you did your best to keep going and ride out your high, teeth biting your lip so hard you could taste the blood seeping into your mouth.

“Fuck” you huffed as you finally came down from your high, lying flat against Lando’s chest.

He chuckled softly at your actions placing a soft kiss to your head he hugged you tight as he praised you.

“Did so good for me baby, always do so good.”

-

Two and three were in the club bathroom, you were both a few shots deep and when one of your favorite songs came on causing you to grind shamelessly against your boyfriend he couldn’t take it anymore.

Pulling you into the bathroom he shoved you into a stall, locking it he was quick to turn around and pin you to it.

He wasted no time pushing up your slutty little dress, you’d traded out your modest white sundress for a skintight black dress that had him going wild from the second he saw it.

He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t find any panties hidden underneath he had a feeling they wouldn’t be leaving your suitcase this evening.

Spreading your legs he watched in awe as your mouth dropped open in a silent moan as his fingers ran through your dripping folds.

“So wet and I’ve hardly touched you.” He scoffed.

While he was tipsy and still riding high on his win one thing about Lando and a few shots of his vodka and he was a shameless slut.

He would be smiling bright to anyone with a blind eye but he would be whispering some of the dirtiest things imaginable in your ear before taking you home to do them.

“Please lan.” You whimpered.

“Please what? What do you want from me baby?” He cooed mockingly as his fingers moved tediously slow everywhere but your clit.

“Your fingers, want you to fuck me with them-please.” You begged the Brit watching as flames lit behind his gorgeous eyes.

He wasted no time sliding two fingers inside you, watching as your eyes clenched shut and a hand shot down to grip his wrist, not expecting the sudden force.

“Fuck” you cried.

He smirked watching you take his fingers so well, he moved them in a come here motion as he added his thumb to rub slow circles over your swollen clit.

“So fucking pretty for me.” He groaned lips dragging across your exposed neck and chest, teeth nipping wherever he wanted.

You cried out as his free hand moved down to grip your thigh bringing it around his hip allowing his fingers to sink deeper and hit that sweet spot deep inside you.

“Feels so good.” You babbled.

“Yeah? Love when I fuck you with my fingers?” He taunted hazy eyes locked with yours.

“Mhm, yes-it feels so fucking good.” You cried head dropping back against the stall door as you felt that familiar feeling in your lower stomach for the second time tonight.

Lando groaned at the feeling of you clenching around his fingers wishing it was his cock but that was for later, right now was about making you come all over his fingers.

He sped up his movements shaking off your hand that tried to pushed his away as he continued through your high basking in the way you sobbed his name and how gorgeous you looked shaking with pleasure.

Lando watched as you caught your breath, eyes clenched shut as your body regained its place on earth and your legs settled down.

Opening your eyes you were met with Lando sucking greedly on his fingers, a deep groan escaping the man’s throat at the taste of you.

The sight itself had a whimper falling from you, the look your boyfriend shot you anything but innocent as he slowly sunk to his knees before you.

“Lando I don’t think I can go again so fast.” You panted.

While the scene below you was one you’d very rarely turn down your body was still reeling from the orgasm and alcohol in your system didn’t help.

“Just one more baby, need to taste you.” He purred his nose running along the inside of your thigh where some of your juices and cum had ran.

“O-okay” you nodded and that’s all the brunette needed before he was diving in.

He tossed one of your legs over his shoulder, his nose positioned perfectly against your clit as his tongue ran through your dripping folds.

The two of you had truly forgotten your surroundings until the bathroom door had opened the sound of people entering startling you but Lando could give two fucks.

His only worry was making you cum in his mouth, his tongue worked in overtime tracing his name and signature number ‘4’ over and over before he’d go back to slurping you like he was a dehydrated man.

Your fingers tangled in his hair sending vibrations through your body as he grunted into your cunt, a hand flying to your mount to keep yourself quiet as the feeling added to your building orgasm.

Thankfully the people didn’t stay long and you were able to let out a cry of pleasure as Lando pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

It didn’t take long for your orgasm to hit, your fingers that were tangled in Lando’s hair pulling him impossibly closer as your hips grounded against his face to chase your high.

“Lando!” You cried as your third orgasm ripped through your body.

However the man below you didn’t let up just yet, his tongue sped up as he drunk you in and moaned as the taste of you filled his mouth.

When you finally managed to push his head away he was panting and red, his nose, lips, and chin drenched in you.

You blushed at the sight and you cursed yourself for the way your cunt clenched as he traced a finger around his face to get as much of your juices that he could before sucking them off.

He smiled down at your panting form, reaching to fix your dress and hair he gave you a sweet kiss.

“You taste absolutely Devine.”

-

The fourth and final came when you two finally returned to the hotel room, stumbling drunkenly from the elevator into your suite that Hilton had provided Lando with this weekend.

Your lips never left one another until Lando pushed you onto the king size bed, fumbling with his belt buckle as his drunk mind did its best to operate and get it undone.

You giggled as you pulled your dress off waiting and watching Lando as he finally got his cock free from his jeans and boxers.

There was nothing sensual or intimate about this but neither of you cared, Lando climbing over your body wrapping your legs around his waist.

He took his time sliding his cock in slowly, even in his drunken state knowing you needed a second to adjust to his length.

Once you gave him the green light his thrusts were slow and sloppy but still felt so fucking good, the sensitivity from the orgasms in the bathroom was present but your drunken mind seemed to not care as you told Lando to speed up.

He did as you asked, arms caging you in below him as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear and placed kisses all around.

Your nails scratched down his back as the pleasure filled both of your bodies, shared moans filling the room as both of your orgasms were fast approaching.

“So fucking tight.” He grunted in your ear his thrusts picking up slightly as he chased his first orgasm of the long night.

You whimpered below him as his cock hit that sweet spot over and over never missing, the added pleasure of his warm lips against your skin and feeling him so close had your body in overdrive.

You two finally came together, sharing a mutual moan as he came deep inside of you, and you came all over his thick cock.

Neither of your tired bodies bothering to move from your spots as the early nerves of the day mixed with the evenings celebrations finally caught up to the both of you.

-

You groaned at the sunlight coming through the room attempting to roll over and away from the blinding light before being stopping by a heavy mass on top of you.

Blinking open your eyes you were confused to find Lando sound asleep on your boobs for a moment until last nights memories hit you hard.

You blushed as you remembered how the two of you ended up here and judging by the throbbing member between your legs a certain someone was having the same recollection.

“You awake?” You rasped.

“Sadly” he groaned.

“We need to shower, like immediately.” You said.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Lando nodded going to get up forgetting you two were still connected for a moment causing a high moan to come from you.

“Shit! Sorry, sorry.” He apologized sliding out slowly before disappearing to go get the shower started.

He came back a few minutes later naked, sliding his arms under you he picked you up placing a gentle kiss to your head before placing you in the shower, climbing in behind you.

You two washed each other up, cuddling close under the hot water as the hangovers began to hit hard.

“So..what was that last night.” You smirked up at him.

“What do you mean?”

“The four different orgasms?”

“Oh” he smirked.

“Well I had four wins and I felt like you deserved to have four of your own rewards as well.” He shrugged.

“You’re so stupid.” You laughed with a shake of your head.

“Oh please you loved it.” He scoffed.

And you truly couldn’t argue with that one.



[astonmartinii]

other side of the moon - chapter six | formula one imagine

chapter six: fireproof

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

testing is finally here and after the car launch, y/n is not looking forward to the mercedes garage

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | SERIES MASTERLIST

the day and a half after the car launch before max was called into the factory by red bull was a slice of peace y/n had longed for for three years. but also one she couldn’t help think would be the last bit of peace she would be afforded this season.

the pair woke up the morning after the launch, bundled up together and hair sticking up in every direction.

“good morning” y/n said, words smothered by max’s chest. the dutchman grumbled to himself as he wrapped his arms around her even tighter.

“max, your phone won’t stop vibrating - please tell whoever it is to fuck off”

max groaned, flipped over and grabbed his phone. with his eyes shut, max jammed a couple buttons and suddenly the gravely voice of helmut marko rung out.

“max! where are you? the team have just informed me that you left early and are not at the hotel?”

the dutchman finally opened his eyes. he pulled y/n back into his side and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“helmut, it’s too early for this many questions.”

“i asked you one, very straight forward question, max.”

“i’ll be at the factory tomorrow, don’t worry.”

helmut sighed down the phone, “wherever you are, make sure you’re not late and not spotted doing anything untoward.”

“me? untoward? helmut, i didn’t know you thought so low of me.”

“the only reason i believe you is because you’re on your best behaviour with y/n back, maybe we should add her to our payroll as well.”

y/n couldn’t stop herself before she burst out laughing. she smacked a hand over her mouth but it was too late. helmut hummed.

“i see. good morning miss y/ln. make sure he’s in top condition for tomorrow.”

“will do, helmut.”

max hung up as soon as he could and threw his phone down the bed. he smiles down at y/n, “that’s not exactly how i pictured my first morning in bed with you.”

“so you’ve pictured this?” y/n questions, raising an eyebrow.

“no? yes? maybe? i definitely have but i don’t want to creep you out so what do you want to hear?”

y/n laughs as he buries his head in the pillow, whining in embarrassment.

“maxy…” she sings and pokes his back.

“don’t look at me! i’m a freak!” max yells, muffled in the pillow.

“but you’re a freak for me?”

“isn’t it obvious?”

y/n finally gets max to lessen his grip on the pillow and look back up at her. there’s a dusting of pink on his face and a concerned look in his eye.

“don’t worry, i like it. as long as you’re only a freak for me.”

max ducked his head again, “as happy as i am to hear that, can we refrain from saying it like that? i was proud i managed to wake up without morning wood and you’re really testing that resolve right now.”

y/n’s laugh reverberated around the room. without the needy meows of brando, the pair could stay snuggled in the bed for much longer than usual.

“max?” y/n asked, the dutchman had rearranged them so that he could be the little spoon and had his head resting on her chest, “please don’t be sorry for your feelings. they don’t make me uncomfortable and unlike others you didn’t just assume i reciprocated. i like what we have and i want to see where it could go, but i want to take it slow. i don’t want people butting in and adding their two pence. i just want you - and our furry babies.”

y/n could see the smile breaking out on max’s face before he even lifted his head from her chest.

“i said i just want to exist with you,” max said, “that will never, ever change.”

the dutchman’s eyes flicked down to her lips and the blush returned when he realised he wasn’t too subtle about it. y/n gives him a small nod and max leans in.

“can i?”

“please,” y/n whispered as max’s lips connected with hers. it was a small peck, just a press of lips, but it was enough. both pulled back and smiled, happy to breathe the same air for a while. y/n’s hand wrapped around his nape and pulled him in for another one. this kiss lasted longer, the pair pouring their years of pining into it, communicating something words could not describe.

for a moment y/n wished that she hadn’t returned to formula one. she wished that this would be her life. happy in her coop in west london with her and max’s cats waiting for the dutchman to come home, far away from her past ghosts and the sport that nearly killed her.

“will you still find me attractive in mercedes kit?”

“that’s a stupid question. you’re the most beautiful person in the world. yes, i would prefer if it were my number and my colours, but i’ll live with it if it means seeing you at every race.”

y/n giggled, the dutchman pressed another kiss to her lips because he could.

“i know you’ll be rooting for kimi this season, but i’ll win every race for you. even if the red bull is a shit box, i’ll fight everyone to bring that trophy home to you.”

“my singular monza trophy is a little lonely,” y/n said, “but your wins are yours, not anyone else’s”

y/n pushed back the duvet and started to get out of bed, much to the chagrin of max. despite his attempted puppy-dog eyes, y/n shuffled into her slippers and made her way to the kitchen.

“find something good to watch, i’ll cook up one last cheat meal for you,” y/n’s voice called from the hallway. max stayed led in the bed, a dumb smile on his face. it all felt a bit too good to be true and he hoped those in the paddock who had already caused some trouble would stay out of this.

despite another night of snuggles, max did not want to leave for milton keynes the next morning. y/n had made him a breakfast sandwich for the ride, but it did little to console the young dutchman even though the pair would be apart for just two days before they’d reunite in monaco and fly out to bahrain.

“i don’t wanna go… i want to stay here, you’re so much nicer to look at than christian!”

max was dragging his feet as he made his way to the hire car. he even tried to delay his departure by roping frank into a conversation but y/n had thought of that and rung down to reception in advance.

“it’s like you want me gone!” max cried as he put his bags in the car.

y/n laced her fingers in his, “you know i’ll miss you, but i don’t want to hear helmut’s voice any more than i have to, so you have to go. i’ll see you in monaco.”

max pulled her into one last kiss and reluctantly got into the car. y/n waved him off as he disappeared into the streets of london.

“finally!”

a yell boomed out in the garage, making y/n jump and stick her keys out as a makeshift weapon. frank stood at the entrance of the garage with a huge smile on his face. y/n calmed down when she saw the older man.

“frank! that scared the shit out of me! how long have you been there?”

“long enough.”

frank looked very smug. y/n made her way to the entrance, pointedly ignoring the older man.

“don’t be mad, i won’t tell anyone. i’m just glad you finally realised what was right in front of you.”

did everyone see it before her? it certainly seems that way.

“we’re taking it slow, so i’d appreciate if you kept this under your hat, frank.”

“of course, miss y/ln. would you like me to arrange for another parking spot for your flat?”

y/n tried to keep a stern look but she just couldn’t help it and smiled at the older man.

“that would be lovely, thank you.”

her apartment was quiet without max. she didn’t want to say she missed him just yet, but she had to busy herself with something before she fell down that hole. she needed to pack and get a flight back to monaco so she could spend a little more time with the cats before pre-season testing kicked off the season.

y/n’s phone buzzed with a message.

kimi: y/nnnnnnnn huge favour to ask! george can only give me a lift back to london before we go to bahrain so could i maybe get a lift to brackley???

y/n: if you buy my coffee at each stop you’ve got a deal.

kimi: yes, yes. i know your order - THANK YOU !

she better get to packing.

the italian stood on the side of the road, wrapped up in two coats, a hat and a scarf. ollie stood beside him in just a t-shirt, some shorts and a pair of flip flops, showing off his british aversion to the cold.

y/n pulled up beside the pair and winded down the window. “don’t you know hitchhikers are dangerous?”

kimi smiled and gave ollie a quick hug, popping the boot and shoving his small suitcase in. the italian slipped into the passenger seat and waved at ollie.

“why didn’t i have the idea to ask you to be my mentor?” ollie whined, “esteban is great and he has already given me a ton of lifts but you’re you!”

“snooze you lose” kimi said, poking out his tongue.

“esteban is great ollie, don’t believe all this shit about him being a bad teammate. he’s lovely and will be more than happy to help you out. however, we do need to go because i need to drop off this princess and get a flight to monaco. ciao!”

y/n stood on the gas and flew off down the street. from the corner of her eye, y/n could see kimi studying her. this wasn’t too strange for the italian, he often just stared at her, amazed that she had even agreed.

“i can feel you staring kimi, do you have a question?”

“why are you so happy?”

y/n laughed at the bluntness. the italian sputtered, “i mean i’m happy you’re happy, but i can’t help but be suspicious. i haven’t heard a peep from you since the car launch… and a little birdy told me you left with a certain someone.”

“it’s been two days, kimi!”

“you’re still smiling, you can’t stop and considering you smiled maybe twice in the first couple days i knew you - this means something!”

“fine! you caught me. i did go home with max. i’m not saying anymore than we’re happy and we’re taking it slow. i’m telling you because i believe for a good mentor relationship i should be completely open, as should you. also you’re like a quasi-son to me so there’s also that. do not tell anyone else, i’m serious. not even ollie.”

kimi whined at that, “but i tell ollie everything!”

“well not this. you saw how some of the people, including your teammate are with me and max, i do not want to give them any ammunition, okay?”

kimi hummed to himself, his brain whirring so loudly that even y/n could hear it over the music and the road. “speaking of those who WILL be without ammunition because i WILL keep my mouth zipped shut… how are we actually planning on tackling george this season?”

y/n was making the turn off of the motorway and towards brackley as she chuckled, “aside from physically tackling him at testing? i am joking, by the way. kimi, i don’t want you to worry about george anywhere but the track. he talks a big talk, but he’s very easy to frustrate when he’s not winning. don’t give him the rise he’ll want, okay?”

the tension rose in the car, it had all been fun and games up until this point, cocktails parties and car launches. but now it was getting real. y/n had the voice in the back of her head that worried that her off-track drama with the other drivers could impact kimi’s career.

“please stop worrying, y/n. i know what you’re thinking, but i am capable of handling it myself. i may only be eighteen but i’m not afraid of anyone.”

y/n pulled up outside of the mercedes factory and turned to kimi. she grabbed his hands, “promise me, kimi. promise me that if the drama with me gets too much, you will say something. i know it’s your dream to work with me, but make sure i do not interfere with your career.”

kimi scoffed, “them being afraid of you will never be your fault, you know-”

“it doesn’t matter if my fault or not, if their pettiness fucks with you, i won’t be able to forgive myself…”

just as they spoke, george pulled up beside them in his mercedes. the brit wasn’t alone in his car however. a brunette woman sat in the passenger seat, and much like george, her eyes narrowed at the sight of y/n.

“that’s carmen, george’s girlfriend. she doesn’t usually come to the factory with him?” kimi gasped, “maybe she’s here to stake her claim on george, as if you’d want him anyway…”

y/n laughed as kimi got out of the car. the italian grabbed his stuff from the boot and walked round to the window. y/n rolled it down and the two did their handshake.

“enjoy the prep, bunny, don’t make too much mess. see you in bahrain!”

the moment was cut short by someone clearing their throat. carmen had rolled down her window and was looking at kimi, less than impressed. the italian squeaked a quick goodbye and shuffled towards the entrance.

y/n tried not to make eye contact with carmen as she inputted the airport’s address into her gps. she was baffled by the news that george even had a girlfriend, not that she wanted kimi or the couple to know that. how long had they been together? did she know about y/n and about george’s weird feud with her? too many questions and not enough answers.

george and carmen made their way past y/n’s car and stopped just in front of the entrance, pointedly in y/n’s eye line. the two kissed, messily for people their age, and just to sum up her return so far, george kept eye contact with y/n the entire time, his hand wandering lower and lower on carmen.

2025 was the year of psychological warfare it seemed. y/n could work with that.

she sped out of the car park with new vigour. if psychological warfare was what george was ordering, y/n needed to know everything about everyone. she had stayed away from the drama surrounding formula one in her three years away from the sport, but it was time to go full gossip girl.

it’s crazy how much you can find in an hour in an airline bar about your former colleagues. y/n’s phone started ringing loudly, earning her some dirty looks in the lounge.

“maxy! did you know that george dated nyck’s sister?” y/n said, shovelling the free nuts in her mouth, “and that lando and pierre once liked the same girl in dubai?”

“why oh why are you telling me about this?” max said.

“because that prick wants psychological warfare, so i have to know everything!”

max hummed, not convinced. “am i like missing something?”

“i took kimi to brackley this morning and was treated to a lovely show from george and carmen. the weirdo kept eye contact with me the entire time! so if he wants to play it like that, i gotta know my enemies.”

“as weird as this all is, i’m glad to see you’re so into all of this, miss detective.”

y/n laughed, “i know i’m reading way too much about all of this, but i swear to god if he tries to fuck with kimi or you, i’ll play dirty if i have to. i mean i just don’t understand why he’s being such an asshole now about everything i supposedly did when he has a girlfriend - insecure much?”

max laughed down the line, they really were so much more alike than people would think. hearing her now, max wished she was back in the paddock for qatar and abu dhabi last year just to see what kind of revenge she could’ve thought up.

“anyway, maxy, are you still at the factory?”

“yeah, we’re just on a break, i’m outside getting some air and i didn’t know whether you were on the plane yet or not - you know you could’ve taken air max if you wanted to?”

y/n smiled, “i didn’t need your plane for a trip to monaco, silly! i’ll only be on the flight for a little while anyway and i’m only going because i’m having withdrawal symptoms from my babies!”

“why would you say this, now i want to see them!”

the boarding sign popped up, “ah! i gotta go maxy, i’ll text you when i’m back at yours - what time does the cat sitter go?”

“she will have left like an hour or so before you get back. stay safe, i -”

there was chatter in the background, “i gotta go, bye!”

max hung up quickly. y/n was left to her thoughts again and just how much life can change. this time three years ago she was making notes about the season coming, turns to watch and previous first lap incidents and now she’s compiling gossip on the grid’s personal lives? part of her wanted to be ashamed, but in the same vain, she knew that her adversaries hadn’t spared a moment for introspection.

max’s apartment in monaco was alight with the impatient meows from brando, sassy and jimmy. the cats yowled like they hadn’t been fed in days, although clarissa, the cat sitter, had sent max and y/n nearly hourly updates on them.

“oh my babies! momma missed you so much!” y/n said, abandoning her suitcase at the door and ushering the cats towards the couch. once she was sat, brando bullied his way onto her lap, his spot, and jimmy and sassy snuggled up beside her as closely as possible.

she pulled out her phone and snapped a quick picture of herself and the cats and sent it to max.

max: all my favourites in one place, you’re making listening to christian drone on even harder

y/n: you better keep listening, maxy, don’t want anyone else winning this season do you?

max: i do hate losing…

y/n smiled to herself, there was no lying to now, this place with the cats and max felt like home. the most at home y/n had felt for years.

“right, momma needs to shower and cook, babies!” brando did not look impressed but consoled himself by going back to grooming an equally unimpressed jimmy.

y/n rustled around max’s wardrobe trying to find a smaller towel for her hair. max wasn’t the most organised, especially with a wardrobe where he could just shut the door and forget the mess behind it. she finally got the towel loose, but with the last yank, a small book came flying out of the wardrobe.

the book was a small leather-bound book, clearly loved, bursting at the seams with use. y/n flicked open the book, scanning a couple of the pages. she could recognise the handwriting anywhere, was this max’s diary?

y/n flicked through a couple more of the pages before she landed on a page that boldly stated “fuck lando” in bold capitals. oh? the page was dated for a day in january 2020, just before she started her formula one career.

she knew this was a massive invasion of privacy, but max had never mentioned having a bust up with lando around that time - her curiosity had gotten the better of her.

i don’t know what lando’s problem is? i was on a discord call with him, george and alex this evening and he was in such a mood with me. it was all about y/n as usual with him, he’s being proper weird about her. of course we’ve already started training and discussing racing lines? we’re best friends. it’s almost like he knows i have feelings for her? but i know i haven’t been THAT obvious, at least not as bad as him and george. they think i don’t know, but they must think i’m dumb or blind (or both). he’s going to ruin his friendship with her if he’s not careful. i have loved y/n for as long as i can remember, but i don’t ever intend on making that her problem - why would she ever want to be with me? they assume because they’ve known her so long that they have this weird claim on her. i don’t know - i have a bad feeling about how this might all play out… i’ll just be there for y/n, she’s going to need it…

y/n slapped the book shut, feeling guilty about just how much she had read. max had liked her for that long? even when she was a jittery rookie with hormonal acne and way too much to say. and lando has always had this problem? there was never any chance of them being good teammates was there?

it feels like there’s a surprise around every corner since y/n reopened the pandora’s box that is formula one. how much was there left to reveal? to hurt her? can she handle what other secrets the sport has waiting for her?

but on the other side, if she had stayed in the shadows, y/n would’ve never known about max’s feelings and would never have the opportunity for what she feels right now.

y/n tucked the book back in the wardrobe and tried to wash the guilt off in the shower.

bahrain international circuit

testing was a boring affair for everyone that wasn’t in or working on the car. y/n was on her third coffee of the morning just out of pure boredom. kimi was in the car for the morning session and despite him paying her salary, toto did not seem like he’d make good conversation based on the frown on his face.

y/n saw sky making their way back down the pit lane and ducked back into the drivers’ rooms. because timing and fate loved y/n, george was leaving his just at the same moment.

it took a concerted effort not to roll her eyes as she forced out a quick good morning. george stopped in his tracks.

“good morning to you too?”

y/n gave him a nod and continued to kimi’s room, george grabbed her hand.

“are we going to have a problem the entire season? all of kimi’s career?”

“why would i have a problem, george? is there a reason i should have a problem?”

george huffed, “listen to me. we used to be so close… i wasn’t the one who crashed into you, why are you treating me like this?”

“george i’m not treating you like anything! 19 other drivers didn’t hear from me, you’re not special.”

y/n took a sip of her coffee, trying to school her heart rate, “you may have not crashed into me, but you hardly said much afterwards. you didn’t even come and visit me in the hospital? you didn’t post or say a single thing about me? you barely could bring yourself to say my name, so please spare me the lecture.”

george opened his mouth to respond but stopped, he tried to make eye contact with y/n but she avoided it.

“i didn’t think you wanted to see anyone to do with formula one! and you’re you! you hate dumb shit like instagram dedications and all that stuff…”

“you and your little partner in crime seem to be baffled about how max was the one who slipped through the cracks and stayed in my life. well read between the lines, idiot! his dedication to me is still pinned on his account, my number is on his helmet and he made the effort after the crash! you did nothing and you still expect me to coddle you?”

george tried to interject, “no! i think you’ve said enough already, george. you say all of this shit about how i led you on, but now you’re bringing up old drama when you’ve been in a relationship for years? so what’s the real reason? because so help me god, you fuck with kimi and i burn this whole place down.”

just behind george, y/n saw toto come into view. the austrian’s face told her that he had heard everything.

“well wasn’t that just great, thank you, you two. next time you have a domestic at track, please lower your voice, the entire garage now knows your business.”

“toto, i can assure you i will be nothing less than professional this season. winning with mercedes is my top priority, y/n will learn her place in this garage.”

even toto seemed taken aback by george’s words. y/n turned, her shoulder knocking george’s on the way past, “i think toto is well aware of who he hired and i know my place, just like kimi knows his… don’t crane your neck too much looking up at him on the podium.”

y/n shut the door to kimi’s driver room, and slid down to the floor. it was only the first day of testing and she’s exhausted. just outside the room she can hear george and toto still talking.

“i’m just saying i think it’s insane and honestly a little disrespectful that you hired her to begin with, toto.”

“i hired her because she was a talented driver and is willing to mentor kimi. i was not aware you two had a problem, and the fact that i’ve heard so much about it now without knowing what it actually is makes me think that the problem was in fact YOU. now calm down and get ready for your session.”

okay, maybe not all hope was lost. but y/n knew that this was just the start, the real racing had yet to begin and who knows how far george could take it, especially if the mercedes is competitive and especially if he finds out about her and max.

y/n popped open her laptop to keep track of kimi’s times on track but found herself struggling to keep her eyes open. by the time her impromptu nap had finished, kimi was making his way back into the garage, finishing the morning session. y/n made her way back into the garage to greet him as he made his way out of the car.

the session looked positive for the italian, but the pair were still anxious to see how george would perform, considering both were on the same program for the day. when kimi lifted his helmet, the two made eye contact, the italian’s eyes were so expressive that y/n could already hear the excited chatter.

“oh my god, y/n that was amazing! i know i’ve driven f1 cars before but knowing it’s actually mine for the season? wow!”

“well i’m glad you enjoyed it, let’s get some electrolytes in you before we sit down to analyse everything.”

the pair headed for the mercedes hospitality, with the other morning drivers doing the same throughout the paddock. during y/n’s nap she had missed the only real incident of the day, but a certain spaniard was about to make sure she knew.

“hey! antonelli!”

kimi’s head whipped around to see an angry carlos sainz charging towards him. the spaniard was clearly taking advantage of the lack of media outlets allowed at testing, getting in kimi’s face.

“you might be a rookie, but you’ll stay out of my way, got it? impede me like that again and we’ll see what happens!”

y/n pulled kimi behind her and jabbed her finger at carlos’ chest. “you self-important asshole, he didn’t impede you it’s testing. i know you’re at williams this season, so you’re going to have to invent a storyline for yourself, but trust me, this is not the one you want.”

“stay out of this y/ln, why don’t you stick to hopping into whoever’s winning’s bed, huh?”

y/n let out a sarcastic laugh, not caring about the small crowd forming around them. “your glory days, well whatever you call being stuck in charles’ shadow, playing politics with daddy to get given wins at ferrari only to be cast aside when you got a bit too big for your boots, are over. don’t be the bitter old bitch that makes rookies’ lives hell? oh wait, you’ve always been that way haven’t you?”

“you are a perpetual victim, y/n. that was years ago, get over it.”

“and yet you still act the exact same way. telling, really.”

carlos stayed quiet this time and y/n took that as the chance to guide kimi to hospitality. with their backs turned, “she won’t always be there for you, rookie! she can’t sleep with all of the stewards and she won’t be in the office to bat her eyelashes. so watch your back.”

y/n kept walking despite kimi tugging on her arm, wanting to retaliate. “stop. let him make a fool of himself.”

despite y/n trying to de-escalate the situation, max was less willing to do so. the dutchman had only heard a fraction but that was enough to rear the head of mad max.

“you think you’re so cute with this shit don’t you, sainz,” max said, looming over the spaniard, “you people never change, it’s pathetic.”

“the only thing that’s pathetic here is you, being her lap dog - and we’re meant to be scared of you? all we gotta do is flash an ankle or raise a hand and you’ll be eating out of our palm.”

max’s hands were shaking by his side and it took everything inside of him not to lunge at carlos. y/n’s grip on kimi tightened when jos was brought up, the crowd around them tensing as well.

“i don’t know what she does for you, but you surely can’t still be falling for it all these years later. i remember at toro rosso when you’d wake up the whole camp screaming in your motorhome and you’d call her crying. a four-time world champion and you still go crawling back to her.”

“she’s worth more than you could ever wish to be. i don’t know what propaganda your dad or lando has been feeding you, but you’re a grown man, you’re too old to be falling for it. now leave her and kimi alone. i’d threaten you, but it’s unlikely that williams will be anywhere near me this season.”

max gave one last look to y/n before running back towards the red bull garage. the crowd that had formed chattered amongst themselves and started to disperse. carlos looked enraged but backed off, not without one final glare towards the italian.

“i didn’t know formula one was just this dramatic,” kimi said, “i need to work on my insults!”

y/n laughed, but a voice from behind her stopped her dead in her tracks.

“always the centre of drama, aren’t you y/n? always looking for trouble.”

zak brown.

fin.

note: wow this took me so long to write and i kinda hate it! i am in such a rut rn idk what to do ? but i hope you guys enjoyed it anyway!

taglist:  @peterholland04@miureiz@freyathehuntress@lighttsoutlewis@aleatorio1234@chaosandevelyn@blueberry648579@dog-and-cat-person230@fastandcurious16@obxstiles@cosmicwintr@becca388510 @savagittariuspy@tibadi @thisbitxhs-blog @finn-dot-com @scenesofobx @moofilms @alilstressyandlotdepressy @nana-love-bugzzz @mayax2o07 @obsessed-fan-alert @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @jajouska @poppysrin @mimimarvelingmarvel @jiyumie @heeseungthel0ml 

@folkloresreputation@hc-dutch@shimmermotorsport@96mcobo@eclipsedcherry@formulaal@czennieszn@gothicwidowsworld@emily-b@suns3treading@henna006@kazgirl20@anotherapollokid@littlegrapejuice@daemyratwst@annimausi@yawn-zi@lulu-1998@xsilkesworld@justaf1girl@daddyslittlevillain@abq654@elizamoe1@evans-dejong33@wierdflowerpower@t1nkerbel1@okcurran@raizelchrysanderoctavius@skepvids@multilovebot@fernandoalonso14@jules-kup-172@m4xgirlie@rorabelle15@minkyungseokie@formula1-motogpfan 

[yeyinde]

(sighs dreamily) i loooove the way you write fucked up and gross simon. the size kink and somno drabbles have been living rent free in my mind for almost two weeks now. the recent stalker piece was also so deliciously terrifying, i actually had a dream/nightmare today that was a mixture of stalker!ghost and not-dog!soap 😭

are you planning on writing any more for either of those?

ahhh thank you!!!! this had me wondering how i could maybe blend the two and this happened.

stalking. HEAVILY implied noncon somno. size difference.

Simon decides your dog, your baby, needs a man in the house. and since you like to call yourself his 'mama,’ then it’s only right that he becomes the daddy both of you need.

Your dog does not like strangers.

He's a rescue and the sort of life he lived until now, until you, is mostly a mystery. You found him on a rainy day, panting under your awning - a gnarled mess of matted fur glued to bone. Too skinny to survive another winter. You took him in right away and gained his trust. His love. But whatever he had left to spare (lots, it seems) is strictly reserved for you. Everyone else is a threat, a worry. Even the vets he's known since you found him all those years ago still get the same wary glances, the same growls then they lean in too close to whisper something in your ear.

He's just—special. The sweetest thing ever when it's just you. Your baby. People joke—slightly nervous—that he treats you like his mother. Following you closely with his big, glossy eyes tilted up to stare at you. Loving. Cuddly. Rests his big head on your lap at night with a great, big sigh. Tired from a long, hard day of protecting his house from squirrels and the stray delivery driver.

But when it comes to others—anyone, really—he’s aggressive. Territorial. All the vets and trainers say that it's his breed. That he just needs to be trained. Exposure therapy. Behavioural. And it works for all of two weeks before he's back to his stubborn self. Snapping at anyone who gets too close to you.

You post warnings on your fence. Your front door. Take precautions when you walk him. Warn anyone who gets close that he doesn't like anyone. Full stop. No exceptions. And it works. Helps ease the stress. He still goes to therapy. To training lessons. But he's smart enough to trick them into thinking he's learning.

And it's fine. People can't get too close to you. To his house. His territory.

Or so you thought.

But he's been acting strange lately.

You caught him barking at something through the fence a few months ago; spittle flying from his muzzle as his lips peeled back, snarling and vicious. If the fence wasn't reinforced, you think he would have broken it down to get at whatever was behind it.

It continued like this for a few days. Each time you went to check and see what was there, all you find is littered cigarettes. The teenage son of your neighbour, you think. He likes to hide in the dense woods so his parents can't find him. You'll talk to him about it later. Ask if he can do it a little further away from the fence so he isn’t disturbing Baby. 

As the days grow, his growls and snarls diminish before stopping outright. In the interim, your unease grows.

It's small—at first. 

He wants to be outside more. Always whining at the back door, scratching at it with his paw. When you let him out, he runs right to that spot by the fence. Sits down, and just stares. When you go out to look, there's nothing there. Just a dark, sprawling coppice. Cigarettes on the ground. But something catches his attention. Keeps it. Holds it.

He leads you to that spot sometimes, too. Nudges you with his big, furry head to your thighs. Shepherding you to the fence, and then sits back, clearly preening. Proud.

"You're mama’s silly boy, aren't you?" you coo, scratching his ears. It must be the neighbour. Maybe a stray deer wandered by. You catch a flash through the tree line. Twin puddles of black peering through the tangled weeds. Your dog perks up, looking towards it. A deer, you think. A stray buck. You huff, patting his head. "Made a new friend, huh?"

But you can't shake the feeling that something else is out there. That something is staring at you.

Nothing, you tell yourself, fighting off a shiver. It's fine. Fine. He sneaks off at night sometimes. You hear him playing in the hallway. Wandering around the house. The tack-tack-tack of his nails against the hardwood as he walks back to your bedroom lulls you back to sleep. You feel the bed dip. Something warm against your back. You sigh, melting into the sheets—

There's nothing to worry about.

He'll protect you.

But the next morning, you find him locked outside. The patio door shut. The deck is dried from the sun, but his fur is wet. It rained last night. You drifted in and out to the patter of it on your window. The soothing weight of his body curling around you—

He must have gotten out in the morning. Rolled around in the grass. But when you put him in the tub later to scrub the rainwater off of his cost, his belly is dry.

It's nothing. He was in bed with you last night. It's fine. Fine. Everything is easy to explain away as coincidence. Nothing usual. The feeling of being watched. The missing food from your fridge. The creaks of the old house at night. Things shifting around—keys missing only to turn up somewhere else. Rodents chewing through your landline. 

The panties you shed, tossing into a corner before getting into the shower going missing—

They’re just—lost in the wash. You must have thrown the leftover food away when you cleaned earlier and forgot. The lingering scent of cigarettes. Smoke in your bed. The cloying scent of loam, humus. Fresh dirt. The stains on your bed. The strange smear in the gusset of your panties when you peel them apart.

Something thick, firm between your thighs—

Fine. You tell yourself. Everything is fine. At best, it's a gas leak. At worst—well.

Baby will protect you. 

Always. 

But the next day, he brings his favourite toy to the back door, asking to be let out, and this isn't—

It's not normal.

He's possessive over his toys. Keeps them on his daybed and refuses to let anyone touch them. Only you. He doesn't bring the. Outside, either.

But when you peer outside a few minutes later, the toy is lying by that spot near the fence. He's sitting down, tail wagging. Happy. Excited. It continues like this for the next few days. He brings his toys to the fence, coming in later, licking his lips. When you brush his teeth at night, you smell something gamey on his breath. Meaty. 

Getting out of bed a few hours later and playing in the hallway. Going to sleep with you at night, but somehow getting out in the early hours of the morning, waiting for you on the patio when you remember the huff of his breath over your neck less than an hour ago—

No. You're just—

Getting the time wrong. It's fine. He'll protect you. He doesn't like anyone but you.

You hear footsteps in the hallway at night next to the click-clack of his nails. When you jump out of bed to check, it's just him. Sitting by the back door, head craned over his shoulder when he heard you coming. His favourite toy is sitting on the ground in front of him. You fight a shiver. The feeling of eyes burning into you churns your stomach.

"I'm going crazy, sweetheart," you coo, but feel the threads of your sanity begin to snap one by one. "But you'll keep me safe, right?"

His tail wags. You pretend not to notice the gap in the patio door. Opened just a crack. You shut it, forcibly telling yourself to remember to close it next time and fight the memories of locking it before settling on the couch to watch old re-runs. You drag him back to bed, burrowing your head into his fur, listening to the thud-thud-thud of his heart in your ear. 

When you dream that night, it's of a big, scarred hand making its way between your thighs. A rasping, masculine voice in your ear commanding you to be good—

You wake up with your thighs sticky, wet. Your cunt pulsing. There's an ache there; a sting. It twinges when you move, tapering into a sore throb as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, woken up by the strange dream—fingers between your thighs, a head resting on your belly, calling you a good girl—and a noise.

A low murmur comes from the living room. You wince with the first several steps, forcing yourself to ignore the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs. The wetness that drips down your leg, some of it already dried, sticking to your skin. It’s fine. You just had a—

A wet dream.

—everything is fine. Fine. Your heart lurches. Lodges in your throat. Each beat feels like a fist against your tissue trying to break down the prison of your flesh to flee. 

You slowly inch toward the hallway, the sound, making excuses for the fear that curdles in your belly. The itch in the back of your head that calls you stupid. Demands you go back to bed. To sleep. You’ll wake up in the morning to Baby slobbering over your chest, drooling as the time ticks away in a slow crawl towards his usual breakfast. 

It’s tempting. The sleep congealing in the corners of your eyes, weighing heavy—molasses-thick—over your sense of awareness: cobwebbed in that strange, uncanny realm of sleep and wakefulness; hypnagogia turning shadows on the walls into human shapes. The whisper of wind into the brassy drawl of a voice. 

Through it all, the prickle rears. Says something isn't right. Hasn't been right for a while now. It's fine. Everything is—

It doesn't make sense at first. Your brain tries to wrap around the images your eyes feed it. Untangling the dizzying sense of confusion that runs along your hindbrain like a jagged knife; grazing tissue, scraping over nerves. The picture comes together quickly. There's no misinterpreting the shapes.

A man is lounging on your couch. Legs kicked up on the coffee table, ankles crossed. The remote is held in one hand as he lazily flicks through the channels on your television screen. The picture of ease. So relaxed, so comfortable in your space, that you begin to feel a little bit like an intruder. A voyeur peering between the curtains.

This feeling is reinforced when you peel your eyes away from the horrifying mask on the man's face—a black balaclava—and find your dog lounging beside him. Resting with his head over this stranger's thick thighs. His head perks up when you approach, tail wagging, but he doesn't get up from his spot. Content to bask in the half-hearted attention the man doles, a hand buried in his fur. Dragging over his ears. Down his back. Monotonous flicks of his thick wrist, nearly the same width as the barrel of a baseball bat.

And that just trembles down your spine in the worst way.

He's the same height as you are sitting down. Takes up two cushions on the couch with his absurd bulk. Massive, you think. And then it all rushes through you. The knife slips into your cognisance.

There's a man in your house. Petting your dog,

your dog who tries to bite the same vet he's had for years. Who trusts, who likes, no one but you—

You make a noise. Something strangled in the back of your throat. Muffed, unable to escape through the clot of your heart getting there first. It tangles around your pericardium and is too late to take back. To swallow down. 

It doesn’t matter, though. 

The man has been watching from the beginning. 

Dark eyes (a dark, black flash between the leaves—) drill into you. Staring. That familiar, unease feeling is back again, creeping up your spine. It's been him the whole time, you know. The thing behind the fence. Must be. The same brand of cigarettes you found on the opposite side is sitting on your coffee table, right beside his feet.

His chest expands with his inhale. You smell stale smoke. Something wild. The scent of the forest after a summer's rain shower.

"Finally up, are you? Thought you were gonna sleep all day." His voice is deep. Brassy. The growling roll of an approaching thundercloud. You shiver. Jerk back, but—

Baby growls.

He's never done that before. Never barked. Never snarled. Never nipped.

But right now, his teeth peel back, muzzle wrinkling as he lifts his lips. And you know it's playful. Seen this look on his face when you throw the ball across the yard. It's just him being his silly self. He won't attack you. Won't maul you. 

The man lifts his hand and your dog limbers up. Shakes. He jumps off the couch and trots toward you. Nothing is threatening in the way he moves. It's the same lumbering gait, the same happy wag to his tail, but he moves himself around you. Stands between you and the only escape.

"Baby—?"

"Taught 'im a few tricks," the man drawls conversationally—like he wasn't a stranger in your house. "Got a good boy on your 'ands. Jus' needed a bit o'trainin'—”

He snaps his fingers and Baby moves. Bumps his head into the back of your thighs. Pushing you. Nudging you toward the man. It’s so horrifying familiar that you find yourself moving without a thought. Following along. 

"He jus' needed a man in the house, didn't he? A father figure—" 

You're going to be sick. Think you would have been already if your heart wasn't lodged tight in your throat, keeping everything down. 

The man lifts his hand. Curls his fingers. 

"C'mon, mommy," he taunts, voice a derisive roll. "Come sit on Daddy's lap. It's movie night tonight."

Baby pushes you forward happily, tail wagging, wagging—

Happier than you’ve ever seen him as this stranger reaches out, grabbing your waist and hauling you onto his lap. You think about fighting immediately, struggling to get out of his hold, but he moves back and the unmistakable, blunt press of a gun sends shivers rolling down your spine. You still instantly. Back drawing tight. Fear is a wet, hot pulse behind your ribs. 

“Don’t fight it, birdie—” You feel the warm, damp press of his mask against the shell of your ear. The ridges of his lips move beneath the fabric as he speaks. 

You hear him inhale, drawing in the scent of your shampoo—your fear: an oily thick miasma pooling behind your ears, against your nape—and feel tears pool against your lashline when a surge of familiarity wells up at the solid, firm weight of his chest against your spine. His thigh slips between yours, spreading them wide over the arch of his muscle. Limp, dizzy, you fall back into his chest when he pulls you in, slotting a burly arm over your ribcage. Locked in tight. A shackle. 

“Ain’t go’ nothin’ t’worry about,” he continues, hips shifting. Moving. And—

It’s a not gun. You know it isn’t. When you whimper, it throbs—

There’s the echo of a groan in his voice when he huffs, lips pursing into a kiss. “Nothin’ at all. C’mon, Baby—” 

And Baby obeys eagerly, jumping up on the couch beside him. His snout is warm, wet, when he presses it to your arm, sniffing. Please, you think, staring into his eyes as tears swell, pooling down your cheeks. Please—

But the man lifts his arm, and Baby circles the cushion before falling against his side with a deep, content sigh. Hope is snuffed out of your chest in an instant. The man’s hand falls to his head, rubbing his skull affectionately. 

“Good boy.” Baby perks. His happiness is a palpable thing that swells around you as he melts, eyes slipping closed. “Gonna be a good boy while mum an’ dad spend some time together, ain't you, boy?”

His arm tightens around your waist. Chin notches over your shoulder as he shifts back, legs kicking out to spread your thighs further apart.

"Now," he drawls, hand sliding down to the mess between your thighs. You shiver against him, toying with the idea of running, fleeing—but he must know. Senses it, maybe. He lifts his hips, pressing the gun into your spine. A threat. A warning. But with the way he swallows you up—broad chest closing in on you, trapping you on all sides—you know it's futile.

He has you.

Your submission makes him purr.

"Baby's sleepin', so now let daddy take care'o mommy—"

[hoshifighting]

Oooo what if during sex the bed breaks.... how will the members react ? [ they are too lost in pleasure]

Ilysm 💖❤️🎀

svt reaction when the bed breaks during sex

WARNINGS: smut, crack, breaking things, floor sex.

seungcheol stops for like a second, the sound of wood snapping catches him off guard “oh no! our bed! is broken!” but then he just smirks, eyes flashing with that fuck yeah energy. instead of stopping, he just grabs your hips tighter, positioning you so you’re half hanging off the broken bed, and keeps going. no way is this bed stopping him. if anything, it’s turning him on even more.

jeonghan’s laughing his ass off before you even process what happened. the bed crashes, and jeonghan’s immediately on his back, cracking up like it’s the funniest shit in the world. “oh my god, we actually broke the bed.” but he’s not done. not even close. between laughs, he’s pulling you back on top of him, smirk wide as he teases, “guess we’ll just have to finish on the floor.”

joshua freezes for a second, eyes wide like oh shit, did we really just break it? but then he catches your eye, and you both start giggling, all breathless and messy. “are you okay?” he asks, still being the sweet guy he is, even though his cock’s still buried inside you. but the second you tell him you’re fine? he’s back at it, grinning like, “well… guess we’ll just have to be more careful.” but you both know he’s not slowing down for shit.

junhui’s got this cocky grin when the bed breaks, like he’s kinda proud of it. “damn, babe, didn’t think we’d go that hard.” he’s laughing, but the sight of you on the busted bed, legs spread, hair all messy—oh, he’s definitely not stopping. “guess we’ll just make the floor work,” he says, grabbing a pillow and getting right back to business.

hoshi’s eyes go wide when the bed collapses, like he wasn’t expecting that at all. “wait, what the fuck?” but then he looks at you, all flushed and panting, and suddenly, he’s laughing. “did we really just break the fucking bed?” he’s got this wild grin now, and instead of getting up or fixing anything, he just pulls you onto the couch, counter, desk, whatever is in front of him.

wonwoo is almost too calm for the situation when the bed crashes beneath you, and he just gives you this little smirk, eyebrows raised. before you can even react, he’s flipping you over and continuing right where you left off, not caring at all about the busted bed, after all, the mattress was still intact. “we’ll fix it later.”

woozi freezes. like, completely freezes. as if to prevent from getting worse. the bed breaking wasn’t part of the plan, and now he’s all flustered, trying to figure out what just happened. “uh… did we just… break the bed?” he’s scratching the back of his head, looking embarrassed, but when you start laughing and crawl back over to him, he relaxes. “okay, okay, let’s just… keep going, i guess.” the moment you’re back on top of him, though? it’s game on again.

minghao barely gets phased. he’s laughing under his breath, eyes almost tearing up along with the giggles, and before you can even say anything, he’s pulling you off the broken bed and onto the divan, lips ghosting over yours. “the bed’s not gonna stop us, babe.”

mingyu HA! JUST ANOTHER DAY, the bed that you two have at home, is already that one that is almost on the floor. mingyu’s eyes go huge when the hotel bed gives out, like he’s genuinely shocked. “noooo, not again! babe!” and then he starts laughing. “ive told u to only ride me at home” he’s still hard, still desperate for you, so he just shrugs, throws the pillows on the floor, and gets right back to fucking you, like the broken bed was just a minor inconvenience.

seokmin stops mid-thrust, he should moan or scream? hes blinking like, “did we just…?” he looks down at the broken bed, then back at you, and suddenly he’s laughing so hard he can’t breathe. “we actually broke the bed!” but the second you giggle with him, he’s all over you again, naughty as ever. laughing during sex with him is just another part of the routine.

seungkwan is half horrified, half cracking up. “you paying this time babe!” he’s shocked for a second, looking at the mess beneath you two, but when he sees you giggling, all flushed and horny, he gets his confidence back. “okay, okay, let’s move to the bathroom, we take care of it after.” but you know he’s already plotting how to make an excuse for the air-bnb owner.

vernon just blinks when the bed collapses, like, “huh.” it takes him a second to process, maybe when you push him because he's crushing you on the mattress. “babe I think I threw my back out.” he’s not fazed at all, just moves you off the broken frame, butt-naked with a hand on his lumbar.

chan’s reaction is instant—he’s laughing, like full-on belly laughing, his head thrown back. “fuck I cant believe it! my salary!” he really thinks about the amount of money to buy another one, but he’s not stopping, hips keep working on you as you fight to decide if you moan or if you laugh. you two would probably need to buy another frame with more... resistance.

[diejager]

hear me out, your mother goes on holiday with her friends and horangi is away on some family business which means stepdad!König has the reader all to himself for like a week and he’s been crawling into bed with her so in the morning he can convince reader to let him fuck her dumb🤭

Oooh, you beat me to it! I wanted to write this but hadn’t really had the time yet! Cw: dub-con/non-con, stepcest, cheating, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, cunnilingus, anal fingering, anal sex, thigh fucking, tell me if I missed any.

You felt your heart sink to the darkest pit of your stomach when your mom kissed you on the head and made your stepfather promise to watch over you while she was away on a month-long holiday/business party to get that promotion she was aiming for. You would be home alone with König, without your mom’s presence to mediate and busy him from hovering over you and touching you nonstop. The only “light in the darkness” of your situation was that Kim - he told you over and over to call him Kim even though your stepfather used Horangi - was gone for the week, a family emergency he said, grumbling about his past catching up to him.

He doesn’t do anything on the first day, letting your apprehension and nerves simmer in your gut, letting you squirm in your seat while he stares you down at the head of the table, his plate left untouched to watch you eat his dish. You went to bed feeling unsettled, eyes wide open until the clock hit midnight, unable to stay awake from the day’s stress.

You wake up beside him from then on, his chest pressed against your back with his thick arms wrapped around your waist, his morning wood jabbing at your ass with rhythmic throbs. He either fucks your thighs, slipping his leaky cock between them, the loud ad wet slaps of his cock; he spoons you, lifting your leg over his arm as he rocks himself into you, slamming his bulbous tip against your bruised and spongy cervix; or he straddles your legs, jerking himself off with one hand and the other stretching your tight rim with two big fingers.

You spend your waking hours around him, confided to your house and on a leash - at his beck and call - with your stepfather doing everything he can to keep it that way. He has you on your knees between his legs, cockwarming him with your hot mouth, your jaw aching and your mouth drooling over his balls. Your knees hurt, but you can’t tell him how bruised they feel because his cock sits heavily at the back of your throat and you’re trying not to choke and gag on it. It makes him proud that you can take him too, your mother couldn’t, but he wasn’t bothered by it.

If you’re not slobbering all over him, you’re sprawled across the table, back arching and toes curling as he eats you out. You flush from the wet sounds of your cunt and your moans, covering your face with your hands even when König growls at you to look him in the eye as he devoured your cunt. He laps at your folds, the fat of his tongue laying flat over your clit and pulling the hood up, stimulating the twitching nub. His hands grip your waist, holding you still to suckle at your oversensitive button and pump his tongue into your cunt, then teasing your twitching rim.

And at the end of the day, he fucks you to sleep, slamming his hips into you and growling in your ears about how tight you feel around him and how wet you were. He pumps you full of cum, one load spilling over another, he fills you with so much that it bursts from you, globs leaking out of your tight hold, yet you’re still so bloated, navel bulging with more than the girth and size of him. He alternates between your cunt and your ass, filling you in one place and making you sleep with him leaking out of you, drying and crusting over the night and looking at your gaping hole clench.

By the time Horangi’s back, you’re limping around the house, dreading the moment he comes back and cursing at every little stab of pain in your core. And by the time your mom’s back, you can’t even greet her at the door, laying limp on your bed while Horangi and König smile at her at the door.

“Ah, Schatz isn’t feeling so well,” your stepdad reassures your mom when she doesn’t see you beside them. “She’s resting upstairs.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

[uraveragelonelysapphic]

Gentle Love

Pairing: Rio Vidal x Fem!Reader

Summary: She may be Lady Death, but to you, she is your sweet love.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of depression, panic attacks, just a lot of hurt/comfort

a/n: surprise! another fic! i know a lot of people have been wanting just rio fics, so here you go! a little hurt/comfort! the goal was to make a mental health fic where it isn't romanticized, so here's hoping i did that! enjoy!!!

Your relationship with Lady Death wasn’t one that had a spontaneous start. She didn’t save you from a painful demise, or help you realize life was worth living.

She had met you on her day off. (Yes, Lady Death gets days off. She’s not the only one working the underworld, you know.) She was wandering through a wooded area when she came across you. You were sitting under a willow tree, humming to yourself as you wove a crown of daisies.

Her heart had practically melted at the sight of you, and she found herself gravitating towards you. Before she knew it, she was introducing herself to you and you were inviting her to join you beneath the willow.

The two of you were pretty much inseparable after that. You spent countless days getting to know every part of each other; mind, body, and soul. Soon enough, you were deeply in love with Rio Vidal: Lady Death. And she could say the same about you.

You both had grown exponentially by being in each other’s presence. But a romantic relationship doesn’t mean the absence of all problems.

Rio struggled deeply with guilt. She hated that she had been bound to this calling, that she had been chosen to wear a face she found hideous and escort living creatures to a world beyond life. It pained her to take children from their mothers, sisters from their brothers, soulmates from their lovers. 

But you were so soft with her. Soft as you kissed her in her Death form, soft as you held her while she shook with guilt and self-hatred, soft as you assured her that she was doing the right thing. That you loved her always.

As for you, mental illness was something you had dealt with from a young age. After all, being a witch who was chased from countless villages and hunted endlessly, all for possessing a magical ability she never asked for…well, it tends to have some lasting negative effects on one’s mental well being.

You were proud to say you knew how to handle it, but you had your weak moments. Moments like now. And you hated them.

As you woke up, you felt a familiar heaviness in your bones. Your heart felt heavy but was racing all the same, your head ached, and your stomach churned with dread and anxiety.

You turned to the other side of the bed, reaching for your comfort, your person, only to find it empty. Your eyes filled with tears as you took a deep breath. 

You wondered if you should call her. You hated that the thought even crossed your mind. You could handle this alone.

“But you don’t have to,” your lover’s words echoed through your mind as you pondered what to do.

You and Rio had created a system for times like this. If ever you were feeling like the walls were closing in, like you couldn’t breathe, like you could barely function. All you had to do was think of a color and a name. Her name.

Yellow meant you were struggling, but could handle it alone if need be. Red meant you needed her.

You rarely tended to use red. You loved Rio, and you knew full well that her presence helped to calm you in times of discomfort and anxiety, but you couldn’t pull yourself out of your need to be independent and not rely on anyone for help. You hated admitting the need for help.

Even now, as you laid in bed, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to breathe, you refused to admit defeat. But you knew you owed it to both her and yourself to say something.

Yellow. Rio. Yellow, you thought as you brought your hands to your face, willing your breathing to calm down.

It was no use. All you could think of was how useless you were, how helpless, worthless, weak.

You choked out a sob as the room seemed to get smaller and smaller.

Until you felt gentle hands on your wrists, tenderly pulling them from your face.

“Hey there, sweet girl. Let’s sit you up, yeah?” Rio said softly.

You followed her instructions, allowing the witch to help you to a sitting position.

You met her eyes, expecting to see disappointment and disgust, but instead being met with nothing but love pooling in her brown eyes. 

Her hands moved from your wrists, gently intertwining her hands with yours. 

“There’s my girl. Let’s try and get that breathing to slow down. Wanna get some more air in those beautiful lungs of yours, yeah?” She cooed, her eyes encouraging.

You nodded, and she took one of your hands, placing it on her stomach as she took exaggerated breaths as an example.

You began to copy her, your eyes not leaving hers, feeling safe as you lost yourself in her.

She squeezed your hands softly. “Look at you go. Breathing all by yourself. I’m so proud of you, mi vida,” she whispered as you found yourself finally able to breathe steadily.

You both sat there for a few more minutes, her allowing you the space to feel whatever you may be feeling as you came back to your senses.

You opened your mouth to speak, struggling to find words to express your needs. As if she had read your mind, Rio let go of your hands to reposition herself against the headboard of the bed and opened her arms to you.

You smiled at her in gratitude, moving to sit in between her legs, laying your back against her front as she held you.

You both sat in silence for a few moments, just soaking in each other’s presence; Rio running her fingers through your hair with one hand and softly caressing your leg with the other.

Eventually, she spoke.

“I’m so proud of you.”

You shrugged against her and she shook her head.

“I’m serious, my love. I’m proud of you for calling for me.”

“Feel weak,” you mumbled as you hung your head.

Rio furrowed her brows, turning you to face her. “Quite the contrary, love. You are the bravest person I know. You can handle these things on your own. I know you can. But you knew it wasn’t what was best for you, so you called for me. And I’m so grateful to be in love with such a strong, beautiful girl who knows how to help herself,” she said, her voice full of adoration that brought tears to your eyes.

“I love you, Rio,” you choked out, your hands finding her cheeks, thumbs brushing against the skin softly.

She placed her hands on your waist, allowing you to initiate the kiss.

You brought her face to yours, kissing her with all the love you had. She kissed you back, softly, always softly, pecking your lips softly as you pulled away.

“I love you most, my precious girl,” she said, laughing as you rolled your eyes at her need to turn everything into a competition.

She kissed the tip of your nose, relishing in the way you wrinkled it at the sensation.

“Alright, I prescribe you a glass of water, some chocolate chip pancakes, and cuddles with your hot girlfriend,” she said as she got up, smirking at you.

She beamed in triumph as you giggled. “Well if that’s what the doctor herself ordered, who am I to disagree?” you teased.

“My thoughts exactly. I’ll be right back, my brave girl. I love you,” she said, her eyes softening again.

“I love you, Rio Vidal,” you said with a smile, and she blew you a kiss before exiting your bedroom.

Yes, she was Lady Death, but to you, Rio Vidal would always be your gentle love.

[servicpop]

✶ ﹑ㅤtutoring seshㅤ﹏

NOW STARRING : adrien x bottom m!reader

「ㅤNSFWㅤ」ㅤtutor sesh w/ your deliquent situationship but he can't focus on the studying, only you!

✙ warnings — parents are home , manhandling(?) , obsessive 'n a little pervy adrien , slight hair pulling , bodyworship(?) , Adrien is a little silly in this fic

notes ,, this was supposed to be short but I got carried away ^^;

Adrien had called you over to his house for a "tutoring session." For past few weeks, Adrien has been near-failing practically every single class except for gym class and whatnot. Realising he needed to improve his grades or he'll never graduate with you, he called you on one faithful evening to come over and help him study.

Obviously you complied; it was nice to see Adrien showing some sort of motivation to improve, so you changed into some casual clothes and began to walk to his house. You had prepared your laptop, pencil case, and textbooks, all ready to put in a few hours of tutoring. When you arrived at his front door, you grazed the back of your knuckles against the wood and knocked once or twice, expecting Adrien to show up with a proud smirk like he always did.

But it wasn't Adrien. When the door swung open, you saw his mother. You've only seen her once or twice but never up-close like this. The words caught in your throat as you clutched the straps of your bags, trying to find the words that never came. As if heaven answered your prayers, you saw Adrien jogging down the stairs and to the door, leaning on the door frame with his arm held above his head.

"You came," He grinned, taking the bag from your shoulders as he pulled you inside by your wrist. He helped you take off your shoes cinderella style and neatly placed them beside the doorway. He was awfully caring right now. Your hands felt crammy as you took a glance at Adrien's mother watching the two of you interact, a small blush dusted your ears while you quickly turned away. It must've looked like you were dating with the way she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Well, mom, we'll be in my room if you'd excuse us," Adrien flashed a toothy smile at his mother before snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you to his side. As he walked you up the stairs, Adrien found an opportunity to tease you, "You nervous meeting my mom?" He asked, squeezing your sides playfully. You shoot him an unamused gaze and he lets out a hearty chuckle from that. Adrien's hand wrapped around his gold doorknob, twisting it before he halted for a second. "Uh, wait here for a second, I gotta clean up my room," he didn't even wait for a response before slipping into his bedroom and closing the door behind him.

"Shit," Adrien muttered under his breath as he quickly shoved the polaroids and photos of you from his desk and into his drawer. He couldn't let you see how god damn obsessed he was about you. He couldn't let you see the photos of yourself stained with a white sheen, no, he wouldn't want to scare you off.

Adrien finally emerged from his room, pushing the door wide open for you to come in with a smile. You didn't question it. As you walked in, you were instantly hit with the scent of his cologne and natural musk. It wasn't a strong enough scent to burn your nose but it would still take you awhile to get used to it. Besides the scent, Adrien's bedroom was relatively clean for a guy who was titled 'the school deliquent.' He had a few sports posters plastered on the walls and his shelf had a few trophies from his childhood. You spotted the baseball bat leaned up against the wall alongside with the volleyball and basketball resting next to eachother. Adrien was sure athletic.

As you two sat down beside your desk, you pulled out all the equipment needed for studying and turned to Adrien, "What do you wanna study?" You asked him and got a small shrug in response. Well, why not start with biology since you conveniently happen to have a textbook that covered the subject.

Around 30 minutes pasted and you were diligently teaching him about human anatomy, glancing over to see him nodding once or twice. You thought it was going well but Adrien on the other hand... He was too focused on the way your hands glided against the pages, tapping the pen against the paper rhythmically, and how your eyes fluttered to him ever so often. Shit, he was horny as hell right now. Just the thought of those hands intertwining with his as he fucks the intelligence out of you is enough to get his blood pumping to the wrong places.

"Adrien? Are you listening?" Your voice snaps him out of his twisted fantasies and he leaned in closer to you, his voice dropping down to a whisper, "You know, I'm a hands-on, visual learner..." That shit-eating grin spread across his face as Adrien pat his lap enticingly, trying to draw your attention to the print in his sweatpants. But knowing you, you wouldn't give in so easily — you were called here to tutor him, not anything else.

"Just answer one more question and I'll—" Before you could even finish your sentence, Adrien's arms wrapped around your waist and he hoisted you up from the chair, practically slinging you over his shoulder. His forearms flexed around you, making sure you didn't fall before placing you on his bed, the mattress dipped from the sudden weight. "Try to be quiet 'kay? My parents are home," He nipped at the shell of your ear before hastily undoing your belt and sliding your pants off. Did he care that his parents could come in at any moment? No, but it was much more exciting to see you try and keep quiet.

"Can we kiss?" Adrien's voice was almost whiny, his eyelashes batted at you innocently — even though he was far from innocent. Nonetheless, you didn't respond, you've set certain boundaries that prevented you and him from getting attached (even though you may or may not have broken it a couple of times). "No," it was a simple, sharp answer that Adrien grumbled at. He understood where you were coming from, he was a bad influence and you were this goody-two-shoes. But he couldn't deny the part of him that wanted something more than just meaningless flings. He huffed, murmuring a small, "How can I study the muscles of a tongue then?"

Scooping you up back into his arms, Adrien ignored your small protests and shifted your position so that your stomach would lay flat against his bed. His hands met the back of yours, pinning you down as he slotted each of his fingers in the spaces between yours. "What happened to studying, Adrien?" Your scolds were muffled by Adrien's pillow and seemed to fall short of his ears. As he held you down, he grinded his hips against your ass, groaning softly from the pure excitement he felt. It had been a few months since he was about to get his hands on you, your pictures just wasn't as good as the real thing.

"Calvin klein hm?" Adrien chuckled softly, trailing his hands from the back of your palm, to your shoulders, down your spine, and to the waistband of your boxers, "Next time don't wear anything." His fingers hooked the elastic before pulling it down and off your legs. You couldn't see what he was doing from your position, and every touch made your skin jump, he was so unpredictable. His fingers traced the curve of your ass before spreading them apart to see your hole. "This is the anus right?" He asked, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"—Yes," you hesitated to answer him, he was obviously playing games with you, but there was no harm in humoring him. You heard the faint rustling of clothes before you felt something prod at your entrance. You sucked in through your teeth, was he seriously going to do this with no lube? "Sorry, don't got any on me right now." It was like he read your mind and instead dipped his head down to lick a stripe over your hole. It tickled, and your body naturally jerked away from it before he grabbed your hips and held them down one more. Weirdo.

He shuffled behind you, placing two knees on either side of your legs and his fingers angled your hips a little bit up. The slight burn of Adrien pushing into you made your fingers curl around his pillow, gripping it like your life depended on it. He slowly pushed in, filling you up until his hips met your ass. Even if your skin was flushed against his, Adrien pushed impossibly deeper inside of you until he could feel his tip press against your prostate. His hands tightened around your waist, stopping you from squirming and forcing you to take it.

"Is this your prostate?" He asked, his voice slightly trembled from the pleasure that coursed his veins, he was trying so hard to control himself. This time you ignore him, you know well that he knew. From the lack of a response, Adrien let out a breathy laugh before he finally decided to move, pulling out almost all the way before slamming into you. Your eyes flew open and your knuckles grew pale from how hard you were holding onto his pillow, your whines were muffled quite well, thankfully.

Adrien groaned ruggedly as he pounded you into his bed, the headboard knocked on his wall with every thrust. "You're being so quiet," He chuckled, reaching a hand out to ruffle your hair affectionate before moving to grab your hand. You couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic enough with the way he kept slamming into you like it was a punishment. Everytime he pulled out, he cooed at the way your hole would suck him back in like it missed him. "Fuck, I just can't with you," He let out a shaky breath as he rolled his hips against you, pushing further and further, trying to reach places he couldn't before.

He was reaching so deep that tears began to blur your vision, everything felt so overwhelming but numb at the same time. He leaned down to press kisses on your knuckles as he held your hand tightly under his own. His hips were relentless, slapping against yours, you were sure he'd leave your bruised and sore tomorrow. It was like he completely forgot they weren't alone in his house. In fact, Adrien's fingers moved from your hand to your hair, threading them through each strand and grabbing a handful, tugging it gently so your head would lift from the pillow.

"Kiss?" He asked once more, his lips already ghosting over yours. At this point you didn't care, all you could feel was how Adrien was throbbing inside you and how your dick rubbed against his white sheets with every thrust. "Fine," you exhale and he took the opportunity almost immediately, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss as he pulled your hair back for more access. His tongue pushed past your lips, exploring your mouth while simultaneously keeping your moans contained.

The dim lighting, the way your eyes fluttered and threatened to roll back, his dick pulsing inside you, it was all too much for his perverted brain. "Gonna cum," he muttered against your lips, biting on your bottom lip. He his hands return to your hips and his head falls over your shoulder. You could feel your own orgasm building up as your body started to squirm, you cock growing sensitive from the constant rubbing against Adrien's sheets. Adrien paused his thrusting just to pull out completely and shove himself back in, causing a loud whine rip from your throat and you body jolting.

Your cum splattered across the bed as Adrien smiled against your shoulder, keeping you from squirming as he came inside you, filling you with his semen. With a few more wet thrusts, Adrien finally stilled, watching as his own cum bubbled around his dick as he nestled deep inside you. "We should do this again, hm? Next time we can study our chemistry," his arms snaked up your body to wrap them around your shoulders, capturing you in a bear hug as he looked up at you with a goofy smile.

"What's with you and being so corny?" You groan, pushing his face away from you.

a/n: i luv adrien sosososo much ... wish he real ,, also not sure if he was a bit ooc here ,, a bit sillier than usual but I hope you guys like it ♡

[pricegouge]

cellar door

cw: f!reader, implied skinny/fit, sorry. had to go through a window :( horror elements. you've got a live-in.

fucking tuesdays. nothing good ever happens on a tuesday.

hit snooze too many times, found the eggs had gone off only as you were making breakfast, burnt the coffee. you throw in the towel a whole twenty minutes after waking up and dump all your progress, deciding you'll risk being late for work just so you can stop by some place quick and get a breakfast that isn't actively trying to eat you back. you're checking your balance as you walk out the door, distracted by the forgotten subscription renewal that had gone through the night before. fuck, maybe you should skip breakfast after all -?

and then the car door doesn't give when you try the handle.

"oh, get bent," you hiss through gritted teeth as you try it again, futilely. head tilted back to stare up at the cold, dark sky, pulling at the handle in frustration. once for each of the pale white winter morning stars still glinting away.

it's too damn early for this.

you know yourself too well to even bother checking your coat pockets for your keys, but you do anyway out of desperation. as expected, you come out empty and for a moment you just stand there with your forehead thumped against the door frame while you picture yourself walking out the back door, nose stuck in your phone as you bypass the key holder without so much as a parting glance. you locked the door behind yourself - you know you did, but you try it anyway just to be sure. wouldn't do to pull your landlord out of bed just to have him show up and try the knob, call you an idiot before the sun's even out.

of all the stupid shit you've already pulled this morning, you wouldn't put it past yourself, honestly, but of course securing your house was the one thing you'd managed to complete successfully.

your boss is understanding when you text her. 'take your time. and stay warm!' a point you hadn't considered until she said it, the chill seeping in through the seams of your coat as you stand on your back porch, debating. if you could at least get into your car, you'd have options. potential tools you could maybe use to break in. but as it stands, you've nothing, and a call to your vaguely lecherous landlord is seeming more and more imminent. snow crunches under boot as you round the house, desperate. you'd be proud of how diligent you've been in locking windows, if not for the fact that you could really use an open one right about now. giving in, you pull your phone from your pocket again and grumble when you drop it, fingers gone numb with the chill. crouching low, you dig it out of the snow and check for pavement marks in the low light from the streetlamp across the road. except, your screen isn't the only glass the light catches - a dull glaze reflecting in the basement window before you, rickety casing looking quite promising.

your phone works well enough to use the flashlight, at least. you frown in distaste at the mess of cobwebs on the other side of the window, but between a creepy unfinished basement and an asshole landlord who spends just as much time leering at you as he does belittling your concerns, you'll try your luck with the slumbering spiders.

the panes hang crookedly. two panels, side by side. there's some concern about whether or not you'll even be able to fit through it if you can manage to get it open, but you give it a rough estimate and decide to try anyway - jimmying the first panel until it rocks forward in its soggy frame, enough so that you can squirm a stick between the two where they're latched together, loosely.

probably, you should be concerned how easy it is to knock the lock. you add it to the list of things your landlord will never fix for you.

while the soggy casing had made for an easy in, it's much harder to actually slide the window open. you grunt in effort, cold fingers cramping when you finally get enough space to slip them around the frame. the wood creaks. you worry for a moment that the pane will shatter before it gives an inch, and then nearly topple over when it opens all at once. the cobwebs beyond stretch and warp. snap, brittle with age. snow gives way before you, a small avalanche that collects on the dirt floor below. you're not overly familiar with the basement - have tried all your tenancy to avoid venturing into it - but you remember from the house tour that the north half, up near where the trap door in the front porch opens, at least boasts a cement slab. no such luck here, it seems. the frame digs into your belly when you shimmy through, feet first. there's a small moment of vertigo as you free fall and you can't help squirming in disgust when your hands trail down the slimy blocks that make up the walls. you wipe them off on your jeans as best you can before retrieving your phone from your pocket and throwing the hood of your coat up for an added layer of protection from the general grime.

your flashlight casts a tight circle, a problem seeing as you're slightly disoriented and unsure where the door to the stairway is. you aim it at the ceiling and cringe further into the protection of your coat when it reveals nothing more than a good few decade's worth of cobwebs built up between the beams.

concentrate. somewhere, there's a bare bulb with a pull chain. if you could just -

adrenaline piqued with the stress of your situation, you nearly jump out of your skin when your phone begins to vibrate with an incoming call. irrational anger mounting, you don't even spare a glance at the contact before snapping into the receiver, "Yeah?"

your frustration only builds when you're greeted by the gruff voice of your landlord, made all the more gravelly by the fact that he'd clearly just woken up. "you leave for work yet?"

"john…" the question catches you off guard, gives you pause as you stumble in your efforts to simultaneously use the flash light while also speaking with him. "pardon?"

"have you left for work yet?"

you'd take a deep, calming breath if the thought of inhaling this dank air didn't make you want to hurl, just a little. instead you take a moment to switch the call to speaker phone, move a little further into the room. "can't say i have. why do you ask?"

he grunts, sounding a little perturbed when he continues. "well. might recommend you do."

despite yourself, his presence on the line calms you down enough to brave the cobwebs and you slink forward, trying hard as you can to not process your surroundings even as you search for the door. "why's that?"

"neighbor called, love. said they just watched someone crawl through the basement window."

he gives it all the levity it deserves, but you can't help scoffing at him, nervous humor only building when you hear his jaw clenching on the other end of the line. "sorry. i don't mean to laugh." you pause to collect yourself, take a look around and find your route out. "but i wouldn't worry too much. i locked myself out and decided to try the window instead of bothering you first thing in the morning." a fairly diplomatic way of saying you'd rather navigate the saw bathroom that is your own cellar than deal with him. not too bad, all things considered.

"oh, darl', it's no trouble. climb on back outta that creepy basement and i'll be right over."

for a moment you picture him the way he must see himself: riding up in his battered yet dependable pick up just to save you from the cold. hard telling what makes your stomach turn more, him or the mud which gives under your boot, soft belly of your house. you step up onto the cement slab just as a series of thuds overhead draw your attention - heavy enough to rain dust from the rafters. panda, you imagine, her wide haunches bunching as she thunders through the house, far too heavy for a cat. you should probably put her on a diet. "your house is haunted," you accuse instead by way of reply, eager to steer the conversation away from him coming to save you and rendering your whole excursion null.

"might be," he muses. "but don't fret, love. ghost likes pretty things like you."

"right." you'd roll your eyes if you weren't so busy focusing on your footsteps, picking your way carefully lest you step on a mouse carcass or something equally heinous.

"anyway, what's your plan? the inner door on the porch will be locked too, won't it?"

the one into the dining room, he means. the one you're definitely guilty of never locking because panda likes to spend her evenings in the entry and you don't see the harm when there's a perfectly functional locked door on the enclosed porch. "it's not," you hedge, unsure if you want to be telling your landlord this considering it's his property you're putting in danger.

"darl'," john drawls, and you cut him off before he can add a good reprimand to the list of things you've had to endure this morning.

"yes, it will be locked after this, i promise. i just didn't realize how easy it would be to come in through the basement window."

"always the easiest ones to go through," he grumbles, and you think you hear his car door slam in the background of his call.

"i told you not to bother coming," you groan, kicking over a stack of old paint cans in your haste to make it to the door. like it's a race, like if you make it into the house before he can get there then he won't make you even more late for work, loitering around to check for damages to his basement window and jawing at you about home security.

the door's an old thing. thick wood gone warped and wilted with the damp. it's swollen in its frame, fights you when you try to pull it from the jamb. you grunt loud enough that you don't quite catch your landlord's response, and then zone him out altogether as the door finally yanks free and light spills in from above, the trapdoor at the top of the stairs wide open, overhead porch light glowing cheerily - unawares of the omen it brings. you shuffle back a step, another, try to hide among the shadows of the cellar even as your landlord's deep voice carries on. your fingers scrabble over the screen, smother the unit in your coat - anything to keep his commanding voice from carrying because you know. you know you didn't leave the light on, much less the trap door open.

nonsensically, your thoughts scatter, imagine panda investigating the porch, the staircase below. your head swivels behind as if to check for her even as you keep slinking sideways, skirting the ring of light until your back presses against the grit of the wall - instinctual, easily defensible.

"john," you hiss, risking the light of your phone enough to take it back out, turn off the flashlight, take him off speaker phone, call for help. keep at it even as he carries on, much too loud to hear you.

"- and who would i be if i didn't come to help, hm? can't have you -."

"john! fuck -! listen to me!" you're not even sure he hears you, quiet as you're being. he certainly doesn't stop droning on, though he stops when he hears you squeak, foot catching on something low and soft which pillows your fall when you collapse onto it, cold blankets enveloping you, damp and sweaty.

you gag as you roll, stop dead when another series of thuds echo over head. other direction now, back the way they'd come. your eyes track the path, land on the halo of light spilling through the door just as the intruder's shadow cuts across, impossibly big with the exaggerated angle. without the added light from your phone, you're plunged into relative darkness, the small circle of thin amber light ringing the door scattered by the severe contour of the man upstairs. there's nowhere to hide, really, and your only option is to keep slinking back into the recesses of the basement, too afraid to try scurrying back out the window lest he sees your legs kicking as you try to heave yourself out.

boots lumber into view first, heavy and mud-caked. instinctively, your eyes fall to the dirt you're treading over and seek out the treads. broad, huge. deep scores indicating how heavy he is, how many times he's worn a path into the ground. among them you spot tiny paw prints, almost as disturbing. panda follows after, bobbing into view as she weaves between his legs with a silent cry for attention until she detects you, golden eyes glinting ominously as she scans the basement before leading him in, making a beeline for you the moment she alights on the landing.

traitor.

he's not far behind, ducking through the door while you try to shoo your own car. you force your limbs to move and slide further along the wall, folding under the empty, built-in shelf your shoulder bumps into as you go. it's filthy, cobwebs clinging to the skin of your face as you settle, but you clamp a hand over your mouth and stifle the whimper that builds, ears strained for any movement in the darkness laid out before you.

john's still in your ear, quieter now. as if he knows something isn't right. "sweetheart?" he prompts, and you feel a tear slip down your face when you realize that despite taking him off speaker phone, you'd never turned the volume down. your thumb finds the side buttons now, clicks until john's breathing is no more than a comforting whisper, no louder than your own.

no louder than the response you risk, voice hollow, only really audible on the plosives. "john, there's someone here."

"what's that, darl'?"

your breath hitches before you can respond, the low click and hum of a bare bulb flickering to life leeching your words. it floods the room in fits and starts, turns the man's movements jagged and inhuman as he lowers his arm back to his side until finally it settles into a constant, thin and yellow. he stands directly below the bulb, the shadows of his face severe and gaunt, an odd contrast to his broad stature. for a long moment, he just lingers there, dark gaze shifting slowly around the room. you follow it, try to see what he sees, figure out if there's anything that could give you away.

you don't make it that far, eyes catching on all the accoutrement that lines the walls. bed, stool. small pile of familiar books.

a cat litter box.

disinterested in you when you're not giving her treats or pets, the moment shatters as panda returns to him, headbutting his boots cheerily and begging for pets. he crouches to pick her up and she climbs onto his shoulder with a familiarity that unsettles you further, speaks to how long he's been spending his days with her. she doesn't move when he does, enjoys her high vantage as he cuts across the room, boots squelching in the dirt. he passes by you on his way to the window and shuts it easily, warped wood barely giving him any trouble. in the muted light from the window, you see the odd shadows of his face which you'd noted before are simply the hollows of a skull motif on the balaclava he wears.

"darlin', you still there?"

but you're not, boots tearing up the mud as you scramble out from your hiding place. panda follows you, the familiar heavy thud of her paws when she jumps from her perch a comfort. she passes you on the stairs even as you take them two at a time, chest puffing with the steep incline. at the top you turn and slam the trapdoor down, the white of his mask all you can see peering up at you from the darkness before the door falls into place. there's nothing on the porch heavy enough to brace it, but you try anyway, pulling the cheap patio set closer and shepherding panda through the inner door in the same move, the little shit apparently more afraid of you and your erratic movements than she was the basement dweller with the skull mask.

you lock the inner door after you fall through it, watch in horror through the transom as the furniture heaves, a powerful quake that tosses them to the side before the door creeps open, hollow eyes checking for a trap before heavy, gloved fingers wrap around it properly, push it wide.

impossibly, he seems even bigger here, above ground, where you have a better gauge of normalcy. he eclipses the whole room, blots out the overhead light when he looms closer to the door, dark eye pressed against the pane so he can peer through a fractal in the glass, same as you'd just been. you back further into the dining room, bump against the table just as you feel his gaze on you. it distracts you from the sound of the key in the lock, the creak of the hinges what finally compels you to fucking run.

keys in hand this time, you book it out the back door and slam head first into a sturdy chest, legs flailing under you until john helps right you, fingers bruising hard on your arms as he tries to shush you into submission. he won't let you go no matter how much you shriek, just pulls you to his chest and smothers your cries there, orders you to tell him what's wrong even as he walks you back up the stairs.

somehow, between your shouting and your panting and your sobbing, he gets it: man down there; living there.

"oh, honey, that's just your ghost," he soothes, wrangling you through the screen door with a grip on your jaw which he uses to tilt your head the intruder's way, makes you watch as he lumbers closer, john's voice a low scratch of whiskers against your ear. "told you he liked you."

[sttoru]

‘the markings engraved on the wood hold unspoken memories; ones that will last forever.’

☀︎｜tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. you’re married. based on a request i got a while back; reader and toji marking megumi’s changes in height throughout the years to record how much he’s grown.

“oh, it’s already time to do that stuff ‘gain, huh?” toji grunts as he was lazily slumping back on the couch — rough hand cradling the head of his three year old son.

megumi was surprisingly quiet whilst laying on top of toji’s chest. the reason why probably being the dancing fruits and vegetables on the television. those videos was pure entertainment for the little guy.

toji’s eyes follow your movements as you grabbed a sharpie and walked towards the door of the living room. you had purposefully grabbed the special sharpie that existed only to fulfil one, sole task;

which was to mark megumi’s current height on the doorframe.

“yep.” you nod enthusiastically. you were excited to see how much megumi had grown since the last time you measured his height. it was a fun thing to do, yet also bittersweet.

toji looks down at the little boy on his chest. he grins like a proud dad once he notices how content megumi was in his embrace, “c’mon, bud. y’r momma wants to see how much bigger and stronger you grew.”

megumi’s attention was instantly drawn to you at the words uttered to him. in a sudden burst of energy, he jumps off toji’s torso — running your way. he was bouncing up and down like his favorite candy was about to get handed out.

“alright, alright.” you giggle softly and tenderly rub megumi’s cheeks with your fingers. toji gets up from the couch and joins the two of you, crossing his arms over his chest whilst leaning against the wall.

your husband’s focus was elsewhere; his gaze following the previous records that were left on the wooden jamb. there were dates assigned to each line — each holding a precious memory of their own. toji lets out a deep breath, closes his eyes and allows all the happy memories to flood back into his mind for a good moment.

he can’t stop the fond smile from forming on his face as he squats down to megumi’s level, “i bet ya grew a lot considering how much veggies y’ve been eatin lately.”

“yeah! big boy!” megumi grins back at toji — his playful grin resembling your husband’s. his tiny hands pat his belly, causing both his parents to laugh at his actions.

you pull off the cap from the sharpie and properly align your toddler against the doorframe. toji helped megumi stay still for the sake of measuring his height as accurately as possible.

you try to get the perfect dot right atop of megumi’s head. once you get it, you draw a straight line from that point to the end of the jamb. it’s then that you notice the difference between the previous blue line and the newest one you had just placed on the wood.

you stay silent for a few seconds after taking the tip of the sharpie away from the door jamb. there it was; that bittersweet look in your eyes. one that toji knew very well. he understands your emotions and doesn’t ever invalidate them since he feels the same deep within.

that beautiful and proud yet also surprisingly sad feeling. the one you get when you realise just how fast time flies.

“mama! mama! look!” megumi excitedly points out the obvious difference between the two lines, clapping his hands out of pure delight, “i’m shtronger! bwigger!”

the pure face of joy that megumi made, was enough to put a smile on your face as well. you instantly scoop your son up in your arms and hug him tightly to your body. megumi’s nose scrunches up, left cheek squished against your chest with a faint giggle escaping his lips.

toji’s expression was one of content in the meantime. a content man whom had finally found the reason as to why life was worth living.

his hand reaches out, index finger curling around the collar of megumi’s shirt from behind. he gives it a small yank as if trying to catch the boy’s attention. once toji gains exactly that — he opens his arms and motions for a hug;

“what ‘bout papa, kid?” your husband raises an eyebrow. he tries hard to fake a pout, though only ends up looking quite silly, “can papa get a big ol’ h—”

before toji could finish his sentence, megumi unexpectedly jumps into his arms. this causes toji to actually stumble back — falling out of his squat and into a sitting position on the floor. that was quite the surprise, but, a pleasant one it sure was.

the dark-haired man rolls his eyes before nuzzling his nose into megumi’s hair. his strong arms engulf the toddler completely—not wanting to let go any time soon.

“y’re gonna need to eat a lot more so you can grow up ‘n be as tall as me.” toji teases after a few seconds of comfortable silence. he squeezes megumi’s cheek and looks down at him fondly, “i’m sure you’ll even outgrow me ‘n your momma one day.”

the mention of your son one day growing up and becoming taller than you makes that solemn look return to your eyes. your bottom lip sticks out and your eyebrows furrow.

toji notices and regrets saying what he said whilst already knowing you were in a sentimental mood. plus, you always got even more emotional when talking about how quick megumi was growing up. it was like he was a newborn just yesterday.

“wah! mama. . .”

even megumi notices the change in your expression and he huffs. his eyes dart back towards his dad’s and his tiny fists (softly) land on toji’s chest twice. like he was giving out a punishment for ‘upsetting’ you.

“papa make mama sad! papa bad!” megumi sticks his tongue out at toji and runs back towards you — tiny arms circling your neck as he clings onto you in hopes to make you feel better.

your son’s cute antics were enough to lighten up the mood, causing both toji and you to laugh again. even if a tear had already rolled down your cheek from before.

you were about to wipe it away yourself, though was stopped by two hands: a large one and a small one. one belonging to toji and the other to megumi.

“aht aht,” toji narrows his eyes at his kid, “i’m the one who made y’r momma cry, so i gotta be the one comfortin’ her to make it right.”

“no! papa made mama sad. i make mama happy ‘gain. not papa.” megumi does the same back, though adds fuel to the fire by sticking his tongue out like earlier.

and. . . there they go again.

your husband and son go back and forth about who gets to wipe your tear away and comfort you. you knew toji was competitive - even with his own son - but it was funny to see how he still argued with a three year old like it was some serious business.

you couldn’t even be sad any longer as the squabbling makes you giggle — though also leaves you with a giddy feeling in your chest.

time seems to slow down when you’re engrossed in rememberable moments like these.

and all you could do was wish that they would last forever.

[rebelscums]

Devoted (Qimir x Padawan reader)

Rating: Angst | Acts like he’s not obsessed but he is | Light fluff

Summary: You were devoted, but no matter how hard you try, you never seem to be enough.

The fight was brutal. Each swing of a lightsaber had casted the dark night into colorful arrays of blue, yellow, green, and red.

“Master!” You yelled as you quickly stepped in front of him to take the graze of the green lightsaber that was aimed at him. Your side burned with pain, but that didn’t stop you from protecting your master.

“Go!” He used the force to push you out of the fight, “Find her!” Your master ordered you as you pushed back another Jedi by using the force.

You quickly fled the fight, knowing that he could handle himself. You focused on your task to find Mae… The person you considered a friend since she came into your life. Yet she still betrayed you… Your master… She…

She abandoned you.

That anger surged you forward as you spotted her trying to run into the dense forest.

“You were my friend!” You screamed with rage, using the force to knock down a tree in her path.

There was guilt heavy in her gaze as she looked back, but she didn’t stop in her effort to flee. She only jumped over the tree and continued on her path.

She didn’t try to explain to you why she chose to betray you and your master. She just ran from you.

Before you could follow her into the jungle, a young girl tackled you to the ground. You cried out in rage at the one who dared to stop you from confronting your friend. You struggled beneath the girl until you were able to find your footing just before she could cuff you.

You pushed who, throwing her off of you by using the force. You didn’t care that her back hit against one of the boulders, you could only hope that would stop her from attacking… Of course you were wrong. It seemed like you were wrong about a lot of things lately.

You quickly got to your feet and ignited your blue lightsaber just as she ignited hers. It was clear that she was surprised to see a lightsaber in your hands.

“Leave us alone.” You gave her a warning before protecting what was yours.

“Who did you take that from?” She spat with a righteous glare.

An uneasy feeling grew in your chest as your tears blurred the anger in your eyes, “Myself.” With a cry you rushed at the Jedi, anger filling your heart.

Saber clashed against saber as you evaded her every attack. It was clear that with each passing minute, Mae was getting farther away and your master… You dreaded the disappointment he would show you the moment you return to him empty handed… If you return.

You rolled away from the girl, using the force to push her back, but she got the best of you as you tried to get up. She used the force to send you tumbling back to the ground, your lightsaber being thrown from your hand in the fall.

With all her might ran towards you with her blade raised. Your heart stopped and you watched your life flash before your eyes, waiting for the moment her lightsaber would meet your chest but… That moment never came. It wouldn’t.

Not while he was around.

He would never allow you to die.

Not by anyone’s hands but his.

His movement was swift and fluid, gracefully done with a force of strength that had the girl scrambling to get her footing. But she was a fair fight, using two lightsabers to face your master.

They fought against one another with conviction and speed to the side that they were fighting for, but you could tell that he was running out of time. You could see it in the way the he kept glancing in the direction that Mae ran in.

You wanted to make him proud, make it easier for his mission and so you used the force to send a pillow of sand in the young Jedi’s face. It took less than a second before your master was swooping you up into his arms and leaping over the tree without any struggle.

“Where?” He demanded as he ran faster into the woods.

You closed your eyes and felt through the force. The strong attachment that you had to the force impressed your master, something that he only told you through the hum behind his mask. You tracked Mae with ease and open your eyes to tell him, “Forward. Then left.”

He slowed down and set you on the ground, “Keep up.”

“Wait! Master…” You spoke hesitantly before he could start running again.

“What is it dove?” He held his lightsaber ready to ignite it from any danger that could be heading towards us.

“Maybe we should leave while we still can?” You voiced your concerns, “She chose her side. She doesn’t want to follow this path anymore. How can we help someone who doesn’t want to be helped? We could just—ah”Before you could finish your throat was suddenly constricted by an unknown force.

He tilted his head down, a dark tint to his voice as he pulled you closer to him with the flick of his wrist and suddenly he was choking you with his bare hand, “I will have my acolyte and nothing can keep me from that.”

You struggled against his grip, “I am your padawan too.” You tried to gasp for breath.

“And you are never going to amount to anything more than that.” His words were harsh as he let go of you. You gasped for breath as he turned his back on you, “Let’s go.”

You nodded your head, a dull ache in your chest as you followed behind him.

It wasn’t too long after that you found her, his red lightsaber just missing her head by an inch. Your throat still felt sore but you had nothing to say as you stood behind your master. Your gaze felt tired, betrayed by the two people you trusted most.

Mae was quick to beg for her life, “Please forgive me master, I was weak.”

“You’ve always been weak.” He stated and you thought he would kill her or at least hurt her for her betrayal, but instead his saber sliced through her cuffs.

It made your heart ache in a form of jealousy as you took a step back to distance yourself. You felt an odd rift forming that you didn’t know how to mend.

As he lifted his light saber again, he was pulled back by Master Sol, the same master Mae was meant to kill. Who you sure was his padawan had appeared as well, the two targeting your master in two versus one battle.

Your mind was torn on helping the master who thought you to be too weak to be his acolyte or helping the girl who betrayed your trust.

Instead you chose yourself and the only other person you thought could care about you.

“Mae.” You called out her name as she attempted to flee.

“What is it?” She wondered with a confused look in her gaze.

“Did… Did Qimir bring you here?” You asked her softly despite the battle a few feet away.

“He did… I tied him up not too far from here. About ten clicks west.” Her brows furrowed even more, “Why?”

He must have a ship to get off of this planet. You thought. He could help you right? If your master didn’t want you then why were you here?

You didn’t answer her as the fight suddenly entered your direction and it was time for you and Mae to flee. Your footsteps carried you into the forest, the sound of lightsabers clashing echoed off the trees. Your master didn’t try to find you, intent on getting to Mae instead.

So you kept running with one thought in mind… Ten clicks west and he can take you far away from this place.

You were a few feet away before it felt like you couldn’t move. It was like the force tugged you back to him no matter how far you tried to run. “I can’t…” You whispered painfully out to the string that tugged you back to him, “Please.”

The feeling didn’t stop and you regretted glancing back because it only sealed your fate to him. With a frustrated cry you turned around and ran back sliding behind him just in time to block Sol’s lightsaber from connecting with his back.

“You protect him with a blue lightsaber… Why?” Sol asked in between the blows that were shared.

Because I never embraced the dark side, only him. You thought with a frown as you stared down at the color of your light saber. It mocked you, letting everyone see how you could never be his acolyte… How you could never be anything more to him than just a lovesick fool.

“I will protect him.” Always. You grit your teeth as you lunged at him again and again. Your movements were quick and delicate as you gracefully moved around Sol as if you were in a dance.

“You could be so much more than his puppet.” Master Sol tried to convince you, but it only made you angrier, “Cut your string to him.”

“I’m more than a puppet to my master! He cares for me!” You were almost yelling at him, tears of frustration filling your eyes. He is mine. I am his. He promised. You reminded yourself weakly.

“Then why would he take someone else under his wing? A master only has one padawan.” Master Sol said, “He replaced you because he could not see your potential.”

His words had you fault wrong enough for him to make his final move. You grunted as he shoved you onto the ground with the strength of his force.

“He…” Your voice broke as it trailed off into a pitiful whimper.

“He doesn’t protect you.” Sol spoke softly, “Stop fighting for him and come with me. You would make a great Jedi.”

“Do not twist her mind with useless words.” You master spoke.

It was then that Sol witnessed the fatal three stabs that were given to the padawan as your master came out victorious once again.

You craned your neck to see your master only now realizing that his helmet had be torn off from his head.

“Her allegiance to me is stronger than your former padawan.” His voice was clear, not filtered by his mask.

“Qimir…” You whispered his name just as Sol spoke.

“Jecki…” The anguish in Sol’s voice was clear as he mourned his padawan.

“Was that its name?” Qimir had asked, a cold tone to his voice. He didn’t particularly care as she was not his mission.

No, his mission voiced his name as well, “Qimir?”

“Hi.” He smiled at her with his usual bright tone that had you turning flush each time you saw him.

You thought maybe there could be something between the light conversation and jokes shared, but… You clenched your fists. Of course, it would always be her.

In only a blink of an eye Mae was in his grasp being choked while Sol’s lightsaber was directed at your neck.

“Directing your lightsaber towards an unarmed person isn’t very Jedi of you.” Qimir mused.

“Let her go.” Sol demanded, his threat was perfectly clear.

Qimir thought about it before answering, “Ah… I don’t think so.”

“She is no longer your acolyte.” Master Sol mentioned, “She has been trying to flee from your grasp, that should be answer enough.”

“She doesn’t have a choice in her life.” Qimir’s gaze darker as he looked towards Sol, “Not after she betrayed me.”

“You already have a padawan. Take her and leave Mae alone.” Sol suggested.

It made your stomach twist in knots. Was what Master Sol told me before just a lie then? A trick to throw me off guard? Your gaze darkened as you realized. He didn’t care for my wellbeing either.

“She is too soft… Too… What did you say? Too much like a Jedi to be the pupil I need. She wouldn’t make a good acolyte.” Qimir clicked his tongue at the word, but he smiled as he spoke lightly, “But she is loyal. The shining light to my darkness.” His gaze flickered towards yours, a possessive glint to them, “Aren’t you little dove?”

Your gaze fell away from his. You were tired of all the endless games. Of being used and taken advantage of by men who would toss you aside to get to their true prize... I want to go home. You thought as you stared as the small cuts on your hands.

“Why risk discovery? Why not run?” Sol questioned.

“Well…” Qimir pressed the blunt end of his lightsaber harder against Mae’s head, “I did wear a mask.”

“What do you want?” Sol wasn’t here to play any of Qimir’s games, not this time.

“Freedom.” Qimir shoved Mae to her knees painfully, “The freedom to wield my power the way I like. How I choose without having to answer to Jedi like you.” He explained.

“I want a pupil… An acolyte.” He pressed before shoving his lightsaber once again against the side of Mae’s head, “But this one went back on our deal.”

Qimir clicked his tongue with a sigh, “She exposed me. So, now I have to kill every singly last one of you…” He looked directly at Sol, “I don’t make the rules. The Jedi do. And the Jedi say I can’t exist.” It was then his gaze glanced down towards your direction, “They see my face, they all die.”

Your heart beat loudly in your chest at his words. Did that mean you as well? Would he kill you because you were too weak to be his pupil? Because you finally saw his face?

The silence was defeating, but Qimir was quick to fill the void, “Aw look at you two. Right back where you started.” He chuckled, “I should say the same about us, little dove.”

Sol pushed the light saber an inch closer to your neck. The betrayel in your eyes at both men held a thousand words that Sol would carry in his chest as he made a threat to take your life.

“I am giving you a choice. Your dove or your former acolyte.” Sol demanded.

Qimir’s gaze darkened, “Killing my dove would only destroy the Jedi code you hold so dear.” He bared his teeth.

“If it stops you… I will do what I must.” Sol pressed the lightsaber closer to your neck.

“I don’t need her. Do what you want.” He clicked his tongue and looked away from your rejected form, pitiful on the forest floor, “I came here for one thing anyways.”

Tears trailed down your face when he didn’t choose you. The rejection hurt more than the blinding heat settled near you. Of course he would choose you. Of course he would choose the girl currently frozen in his grip.

“Are you sure?” Master Sol asked one more time.

It was then that you could feel the heat of the lightsaber scorching your skin. The heat became almost unbearable as you were held in place, forbidden to move. A dark red mark appeared on your bare neck, causing you to cry out in pain.

“Fuck— Stop!” Qimir pushed Mae to the ground a stepped towards Sol with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Hurt her and I promise I will tear you limb from limb.” Qimir ignited his lightsaber, the red glaring against his skin menacingly, “And I always keep my promise.”

It was in that moment that his helmet began to shake and you saw a yellow beam of light ignite behind him, “Behind you!” You yelled at Qimir and he quickly sprung into action.

He faced the Jedi knight Yord with quick movements, unfazed as he grinned at his impeding victory.

“You?” Yord asked in utter disbelief. You could see the shock on his face at Qimir’s reveal.

“Me.” Qimir grinned before spinning him around and snapping his neck, tossing him to the side without any strain.

Mae fled without a second thought towards the gruesome action and you were able to roll away from Master Sol. You got up and held your ground as you watched Qimir and Sol look at one another. With an angered cry Sol charged at your master and the adrenaline of today surged towards you as you went to your master’s aid.

However, you didn’t see Osha in the forest and the feeling of electricity suddenly shot through you causing you to hit your head against one of the trees. The last thing you remembered was Qimir yelling your name before you blacked out.

It was the feeling of a steady rocking movement that brought you out of your sleep. The familiar hum of masters— Qimir’s ship left you feeling at ease as you pulled yourself out of your daze.

“Good. You’re awake.” Qimir’s voice was clear as he walked towards your bunk, “Thought I lost you there for a sec.”

“Would you even care if you did?” You muttered. It was a slip of the tongue from the pounding in your head, but you felt good saying it all the same.

“You are in my ship are you not?” He answered plainly as he placed a glass of water beside you.

You watched as he grabbed a lock of your hair and admired it between his fingertips, “I should kill you, you know? You’ve seen my face, you know who I am.” He hummed, “But I know you wouldn’t hurt me. We’re connected.”

Tears sprung to your eyes, “Why do you keep me?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” He stood in your doorway glancing back at you with a half grin.

“You’re mine.”