#quest 1: return home

[distorteddiamonds]

*Arceus (Singularity-and-co), with hands clasped behind his back, approaches the hybrid with a confident stride. He looks him up and down, thoughtfully judging what he witnessed this Pokémon do.*

Arceus: I don't say this often to other Pokémon but that was an impressive display. Being able to tackle a strong opponent like that is no easy feat for most. Especially with your bare hands. Tell me, is it a regular occurrence that you have to face foes like that?

Tearing the fabric from his cape, he begins to wrap the strands around himself methodically, wincing every so often due to the pain.

“Unless you have something to discuss, I would prefer the time alone to dress this wound.” His red eyes pierced the man before him, curious as to what his aim was. He was grasping at something, yet Dominic wasn’t sure what.

[swordmaid]

so I was looking up the tenets for lolth’s paladins and I found this little list. not sure how canon exactly this is but I thought it was interesting -

kind of laughing that shri’iia does the exact opposite in act 1 which leads to her oath breaking. she girlflopped so badly lolth decides to drop her ass then prob hunt her ass down for being an embarrassment and a failure. like girly was not exerting her power at all - it’s her first time in the surface ever and she’s surrounded by people who could literally kill her any given moment (considering all the stories she heard abt how surface dwellers hates drow) not to mention that the tieflings you encounter when you see lae’zel were ready to attack you that just fueled her paranoia. > she was not sowing discord at all she was laying low and keeping her mouth shut …!! she has no allies here! and she doesn’t know where she is! and there’s an illithid tadpole in her head! it would be foolish of her to paint herself as an enemy when she’s already so out of her environment so she keeps her mouth shut … thoughts to herself … bides her time and sees who’s useful to her and who’s not … she can always get rid of the ones that she doesn’t need later but for now she’s seeing what she can work with first …… > have a plan… shri’iia had no plans…. at all. she was following lae’zel around because the crèche was her only lead … but then they mentioned a druid named halsin who’s a very good healer so she turned her objective to that … then a goblin mentions their priestess is a healer too so guess she’s looking for her as well… honestly who thought making the drow who’s never been to the surface and literally does not know where she is or what she's doing the leader of the group a good idea….. in my hc the leader is gale

[heyimkana]

Come Home to Me (2/2)

Read Part 1 | Read it on AO3

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo X Female Reader

Genre: Marriage AU, fluff, smut, hurt/comfort

Summary: Your husband notices how worried you are about him going on another raid, so he stays for a bit longer to convince you that no matter what happens in the future, he will come home to you.

Word Count: 8K (I wrote too many banters I'm so sorry)

Content Warnings: Semi-public sex, swearing

“Beru, take my daughter inside. I need to be with my wife. Alone.” 

The sudden solemnity that befell your husband’s face and the way his voice, low and heavy, resonated in the air around you smeared goosebumps upon your skin. His tone carried a breath of possessiveness, imbuing life to the slumbering butterflies within your stomach.

“Certainly, my liege,” came the shadow soldier’s immediate response. Shortly after he performed a deep bow, Beru walked into the house with your daughter held tight in his arms, closing the front door behind him to offer you the freedom to speak what your heart truly felt—except you couldn’t. You were scared for a thousand different reasons.

The sun had sunk low enough below the horizon for the darkness to gather, a stroke of purple hue tinging the vast orange sky, ready to wrap the stars with its velvety quilt. Jinwoo might appear nearly transcendent under the evening sun, but nothing embraced him better than the night’s cloak, a fitting companion to a man who carried the undead within his steps. Standing before him in this quietude, you felt like you slowly returned to your old self. Abashed, nervous, losing your tongue in front of a man so handsome, he made your heart ache.

Jinwoo turned to you, his face unreadable, guarded, but there was undoubtedly a gleam of concern residing in his deep blue eyes. He took a stride toward you, his movement soundless against the marbled floor of your porch, the same way death approached those who wished to harm the only person he could call home. “What is it?” he began in a voice so soft, it was almost zephyr-like. His lean fingers circled your wrist like a bracelet, cool to the touch. “You’ve never looked this perturbed before. Did something happen?”

“No,” your answer—your lie—came almost instantly, flawless to anyone’s ears. “Nothing happened.” Behind your clamped teeth, your mind endlessly screamed the words your tongue was itching to say, a desperate plea you tried to veil with everything you had.

Don’t go, Jinwoo, please, just this one time. I have a terrible feeling about this, and I know I can’t prove to you why, but it’s eating me alive. I feel it stronger today, this fear of losing you, of losing the other half of me. I know you want me to bid my farewell with a smile the way I always do, and I’m trying my best to do it even now, but there’s only so much I can keep to myself. I don’t want to say goodbye to my husband, not knowing if it will be the last time I can see his face. So, please… Please stay… Don’t leave me. Don’t go. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

Although these thoughts remained unspoken, in Jinwoo’s eyes, they manifested vividly on your face. But he wished to hear them directly, to see them flow past your lips, so he could capture each sentence and turn them into words of comfort. 

“Sweetheart,” he repeated, his voice tender yet authoritative at the same time. “Don’t make me leave you like this. Don’t make me worry about you more than I already do. Tell me. Tell me so I can help.”

He’s right, you thought. Keeping this from him will only make him worry. He can’t afford to get distracted, not now. But when you still kept your lips pressed tight, trying to collect the words, his two fingers framed your chin, leaving you with no choice but to meet his scrutinizing stare. 

He seemed upset. No, more than that, he looked… angry.

The air seemed to shimmer around him as his emotions slowly climbed to the surface, his gaze darkening as his desire to protect you gripped him like a vice. “Did someone hurt you?” Jinwoo questioned you, his voice a deep rumble, crossing through the nearly infinitesimal space between your lips and his like an impending storm. 

You fidgeted. “N-no—”

He tilted your face higher, not letting you break free from his gaze. “I would be able to tell in a heartbeat if someone laid a hand on you, but if there was something that I didn’t know, some clues that I missed, someone who made you feel even slightly unsafe.” His eyes began to gleam; the shadows beneath his feet trembled in fear in the presence of his restrained rage. “I want their names. Now.”

You gulped. This side of him never failed to make shivers crawl down your spine. Jinwoo had always been so gentle and loving with you that it was easy to forget just how vicious and merciless he could be when his protectiveness over you took form. Your husband had killed for your sake before, more than you could possibly count, and he’d take another hundred lives within a blink of your eyes should you ask him to. 

As you released your shuddering breath, you twined your fingers around his wrist. “No.” You tilted your head to the side just enough for your lips to press a soothing kiss against the blue and red rivers of veins under his pasty skin. “It’s not like that. No threats, nothing. I’m safe.”

Relief washed over him, albeit only faintly. “What is it, then?”

You tarried, trying to mince your phrases as best as you could. “I know you can handle anything,” you only began, yet your voice was already cracking with emotions. “I know that, and I believe in your strength. But I saw you, Jinwoo, just like everybody else. I saw the way your enemy stabbed your heart and tore open your chest. You survived. By some miracle, you did. But the sight of it… It haunts me."

You took a breath before you continued. "I find it impossible to sleep at night when you’re not next to me. My mind keeps drifting back to you no matter what I do, wondering if you were fighting for your life again, trapped in a battle you couldn’t win. Sometimes I look at you and…” You laid your hand above his beating heart, your fingers tracing over it as your eyes grew vacant. “I remember the way the beast’s claws pierced through your chest, right here, all five of them. Your body may have healed, and there are no traces of those wounds left on your skin, not even a scar, but… I can still see them. I’m still scared of them. And I can’t help but think… What if it happens again? What if your luck runs out this time?”

Jinwoo continued to stay mute, listening to you intently as if you were the only voice in the universe. He only reacted once quivers ran through your fingertips, seizing your hand and pressing it harder against his chest, as if to remind you that beneath those translucent scars, his heart still remained the same—still alive, beating, racing, because of you, only for you.

You curled your fingers, still couldn’t wash away the dread. “I know you can’t change who you are,” you continued, your voice laced with tears. “And I know you have no other options but to do your duty, which is why I always try my best not to stop you from leaving. But today, for some reason, I feel anxious. It almost feels the same as how I felt on the day I almost lost you. It’s probably nothing, but… Right now, it’s suffocating me.”

The tension was palpable between you, leaving you to ponder whether you had spoken too much. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser for you not to speak at all. You blinked back your tears, wiping the ones that already crossed the edges with the heel of your palm. You felt mortified for baring your feelings out in the open, for being so theatrical about it. 

“I’m sorry. I’m being so dramatic, aren’t I?” You forced out a laugh; the desire to flee the scene was almost too tempting to refuse. It didn’t help that he hadn’t spoken a word, leaving you shrouded by your own perception of his feelings. Have you upset him? Troubled him? Or maybe even hurt him in some way? Just the thought of it brought more fresh tears to emerge in your eyes. 

“I—” You cast your face to the side. “I should go check on our baby—”

Your husband caught you by your wrist, stopping you before you could escape, his touch firm but far from painful. His eyes were hidden underneath the curtain of his raven strands, but the way he pressed his lips so tautly together, enough for them to grow white, clearly indicated how much he took your words seriously.

“I’m scared, too.” 

His confession, spoken barely above a whisper, left you stunned. Out of all the things you thought he’d say at this moment, that was never one of them.

You pivoted around to face him. “Jin… woo..?”

It took him a moment to compose his words as if he lacked the bravery to come clean, to showcase his vulnerability. It was as if he had spent an eternity trying to keep these words all to himself, fighting back all the intentions to reveal this frail side of him to you, afraid of how you’d react, if he’d sadden you with it.

“I’m terrified, Sweetheart,” he repeated, quiet, almost breathlessly. “Not of death, but leaving you.” The lines of his face were strained, filled with consternation. “I know how it feels to lose those important to me. No matter how strong I get, no matter how hard I try, I still can’t protect everyone. I’ve lost my friends in battles. I’ve lost my father. And I nearly lost my mother and my sister, too. I know exactly how it feels, and it haunts me every day more than you could imagine.” 

His face twisted in sadness, almost in agony at the recollection of the precious lives that slipped through his hands, but that amount of pain felt small in comparison to how he felt when he added, “But you…” His fingertips trailed an invisible path down your cheek. “You and our daughter… You’re beyond that. You’re not just my family; you’re fragments of me. The hardest part of my mission is never about dealing with my enemies. It’s this moment right here, right now, bidding you goodbye and watching you smile back at me with your heart breaking in your eyes, thinking that you’d never get to see me again. You’re constantly on my mind, Sweetheart, every second of every day. And I always worry that something will happen to you while I’m gone. That you won’t be here to meet me at the door when I come home. That I’d be too late, and I wouldn’t be able to find you, to save you, even if I searched the whole world for you.” 

His throat felt parched, his voice so close to shattering. “With my power, no matter where you are, no matter how far you are from me, I can run back to you the moment I sense danger around you, but it will take me a second, and a second could change everything. You saw what happened with Jinah, didn’t you? I managed to save her right on time, but if I had arrived only a second later, I would’ve lost her. And if I… If you were in the same position… And I was a second too late on my way back to you… If I lost you forever…” He took one last step toward you, and he crumbled, his body sinking forward, his head falling to your shoulder. “I wouldn’t know how to live my life anymore…” A shaky breath escaped him. “Not without you…”

The amount of fear that radiated through his body was almost appalling. It was hard to believe someone so strong could tremble like this at the thought of losing you.

Jinwoo lifted his head, gathering your face in his hands, his eyes carrying the weight of a broken man. “I know it’s hard for you to watch me leave…” He pressed your foreheads together, his eyes closed in the sliver of bliss from being so close to you, but his eyebrows remained furrowed, tense from the pain and the horror of being separated from the other half of his soul. “And I will never make light of your feelings, but you also need to know just how unbearable it is for me to walk away from you…” 

You squeezed your teeth together behind your lips, your vision blurred by your tears. You could only offer a shaky nod in response, afraid you’d be sobbing if you let a word slip out of you.

“It tears me apart just to kiss you goodbye, Sweetheart.” He returned the small distance between you, gently brushing your tears away with his thumb. “Every single time I leave, it’s like cutting off a piece of me, and you don’t know how much, just how much I want to stay and be with you right now—to spend every second of my life with you, so I can stop you from looking at me with those eyes. So I can put your heart at ease.” He lifted your face just enough to meet your crystalline eyes. “Don’t ever think I want to choose my duty over you. You are always, always, the most important thing in my life.”

It was the first time you saw him so fragile, so exposed, and you could feel just how much your presence in his life affected him. You were his weakness, his only weakness. 

You quickly collected yourself, desperate to assure him. “I know…” Speaking in your softest voice, you reached out to touch him, to cup his cheek, to do anything you could to soothe him even when you, yourself, were so close to breaking. “I know how much you care about me—about us—and I’m happy, Jinwoo. You don’t know how glad I am to have a husband like you. So strong” —you brushed a featherlight kiss on his cheek—“yet, so kind”—on his jawline—“and so, so gentle.” You planted the last one on his lips, as soft and tender as how you whispered his name. “And yes, of course, I understand how hard it is for you. This is why I didn’t want to say anything at first. I didn’t want to make you feel this way. I didn’t want to make you worry more than you already did. And I’m…” You caressed his cheekbone with your thumb. “I’m sorry for speaking my thoughts out loud just now. I shouldn’t have said anything, at least not now when you’re about to leave.”

He let out a sigh under your comforting touch, almost yearning. Covering your hand with his own, he sank his face further into your palm like a child leaning to his mother’s touch. “No, don’t be sorry,” he shook his head, his lids shutting at the feeling of your warmth seeping into his pores. “I’m glad you could be honest with me. Thank you. I can breathe easy now, knowing that you’re safe.”

When he stared down at you, your smile for him was the softest, the sweetest it had ever been. It reminded him almost of his mother’s, the way it carried so much love, affection, adoration, and, most importantly, appreciation. As someone who held nearly limitless power, the constant efforts he made to save the world were never overlooked. Still, more often than not, people chose not to express their gratitude, saying he was merely doing his job as an S-Rank Hunter, taking everything he did for granted. You had seen just how cruel the public voice could be when they spoke ill of him, not long after the Jeju Raid ended.

Hunter Min Byung-Gu’s life could’ve been saved if Sung Jinwoo had appeared sooner! Yeah, where the hell was he anyway? Why didn’t he join the raid from the start? Was he scared? Hey, hey, I heard he refused to join the raid at first. Does he not realize his responsibility as an S-Rank Hunter? Embarrassing, right? S-Rank Hunters are supposed to be selfless heroes! Sung Jinwoo is not one of them!

Your husband never let these derisions get to him, but they got to you. It pained you, angered you to see these words spreading online like wildfire, but you couldn’t do much to change their opinions, and even if you could, it wouldn’t have mattered. Jinwoo never cared about them. He cared about you, about what you think of him, and fortunately for him, you were always there to appreciate every little thing he did. He didn’t have to save the world to impress you. You were already grateful for his presence, even just by seeing him plant a little kiss on your daughter’s head. 

“Thank you, Jinwoo,” you softly said, “for making the world a better place for me and our daughter to live in. But more than that, thank you for all the efforts you made as my husband and as the father of our child. For making time for us even when you were losing sleep, drained after all the raids. I’m sure your baby is grateful, too, for all the tea parties you had with her.”

He laughed a little, still carrying a hint of melancholy. “She can be quite demanding sometimes.”

“Yes, she can, but you’re always patient with her, and I adore you for that.” You stroked his cheek. “You’re a hero to us in more ways than one. You’re everything we want you—need you to be, and for that, I’ll always be grateful to you.”

His jaws clasped together like a floodgate, preventing his emotions from bursting beyond control. He nodded once, a bit bashful but visibly delighted by your lines. With a quiet giggle, you kissed the tip of his nose. “What, getting shy now?”

He responded with a chuckle, pretty roses blooming in his cheeks. “No, I’m just happy. You always know what to say to lift the weight off my shoulders. And I wish I could say something to ease your mind, too, but…” He broke away from your touch, returning your gaze. “I don’t know what the future holds for me. I can lie to you and tell you that nothing could harm me, but I know you wouldn’t want that. So, all I can offer you right now is my promise.” He brought your hand closer to his face, his lips engraving the words directly to the bumps of your knuckles. “I promise that I will do anything, everything within my power, to come home to you.”

Your heart still splintered, but it wasn’t nearly as agonizing anymore. Perhaps it was all due to his vow. Or maybe you’ve learned how to withstand the pain, to welcome it as a part of you, knowing it was something you couldn’t chase away, something that would only be repeated in the future. “Jinwoo—”

A pair of soft lips captured your own, your face held, your words stolen. The sudden kiss was chaste, almost innocent, just pure romance beneath the bitterness of a farewell. Jinwoo pulled away but only barely, the tip of his nose still grazing your cheek. 

“I love you,” he whispered, his warm breath, sweet and intoxicating, fanning your lips. “I love you so much, Sweetheart, more than I could bear.”

You looked up at him, your heartbeat roaring in your ears. “I love you, too.” 

Another kiss, another soft touch from a man you’d sworn to love unconditionally. But the gentleness of your colliding lips, the innocence of it, could never last long, always replaced by something more arduous. A hint of his longing for you, his craving, showed in the way he molded your lips beneath his, and within seconds, his kiss turned deep, controlling, consuming. His arm slithered around your waist, pressing your body close against him, tight enough for you to wonder if you could just melt into him, be a part of him. Perhaps then, you could be wherever he was. A world where you don’t have to bid him goodbye… Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

His breathing turned uneven by the time he ended the kiss, enthralled and far from satisfied. And just like him, you couldn’t do much but stare at the shape of his pretty mouth in your haze.

“You asked me if I’d let the world burn for you.” His voice turned raspy, hoarse with need, his eyes watching the way his thumb glided over your slicked lips. He pressed down on your bottom one, and you parted your mouth in response, an act so natural, it made his gaze heavy with lust. “I’d do it,” he said, stealing your breath with it. “I’d watch the world burn to the ground just to be with you for a second longer. All you need to do is say the words.”

Your eyes turned round, your heart thrashing inside your ribcages. You could see the conviction in his eyes, giving you as much joy as the fear that dawned upon you. 

The safety of the world did not lie in Sung Jinwoo’s hands. It was in yours. 

Your ardent love, intense and overflowing, rushed to your hands, crumpling the front of his coat as you brought him back to you for another taste of his lips. You pulled your husband down to you, to where he belonged, to where he should stay, your mouth meeting his in a searing kiss. You were the gravity that pulled him in, the spark of fire to reignite the flames within him. And you wanted to kiss him forever, to have his hands on your body, to be close enough for you to—

Jinwoo suddenly stiffened in your arms, breaking off the kiss so abruptly that it left your mind reeling for a second. A frown sketched over the lines in his forehead, irritation glinting in his eyes. 

Your heart plummeted, unsure of what you did wrong. “W-what is it?”

“Nothing,” he sighed exasperatedly, massaging the bridge of his nose. “I just heard Igris talking in my ear, reminding me of my schedule. What time is it now?” He lifted his wrist, glancing at the silver watch. “Damn it.” He clicked his tongue; his vexation doubled. “I guess I really have to go.” But his eyes, like always, found their way home to you, and he took you in once more, this breathtaking view of you with your face flushed, your lips all red and bruised and glistening with his spit. “And it’s probably better if I leave now before I get, umm…” He noticeably swallowed, trying to rein in the desire to take you here against the wall. “Carried away.”

With flames kissing your cheeks, you tossed your stare to the floor. “Y-You’re right. Sorry.”

“‘Sorry?’” Jinwoo tittered, the sound soft and wonderful in your ears. Lifting your face by the chin, he tilted his head slightly to the side, adoring you. “It was my pleasure, Sweetheart.”

His smirk, his voice… He seemed so effortlessly sexy when he said it that it turned you sheepish. You removed yourself from him. “S-so, umm… When will you be back again exactly?”

“Six days from now. A week, maybe.”

Your shoulders sagged. He could’ve said six years, and it would probably sound just as torturous. “Okay…”

“Come on, baby,” he smiled softly despite his heart breaking just the same. “Don’t be like this.” He rubbed his knuckles against your cheek before he poked you lightly with his finger, making you giggle from it. “I’ll make it up to you once I get home, okay? Anything you want me to do—anything at all—I’ll do it.”

“Anything?”

His previously impish smile fully morphed into a devilish grin. “Anything.”

“Hopefully, it’s not something sexual,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at him.

“Hopefully, it is.” His chuckles didn't last long, followed shortly by a heavy sigh. “Can I hug my wife one last time?”

You stilled, your breath caught in your throat. “It’s not the last time.” 

He blinked before he understood his mistake, sadness coating the soft bow of his lips once he did. “Sorry. Poor choice of words.” He spread his arms wide, waiting for you to return to his warmth with the softest smile on his face. “I mean, can I hug you one more time before I go? And touch you endlessly once I get home?”

Contentment suffused you at once, and you answered him by carving the shape of your smile against his lips, your fingers coiled against the front of his coat. You made sure to keep your kiss light, not wanting to repeat the same mistake of drowning in desire. You weren’t sure you could escape it should it happen again. But even so, when you parted from him, you couldn’t deny the tension between you. Like magnets, you were drawn together. Just the slightest brush of your skin meeting his could turn it into a force beyond your control.

You tried to distract him—or rather, yourself. “H-hey, you said Igris talked to you before. Does that mean he… saw what we were doing?” This was the first time it happened, as Jinwoo had always been careful in the past not to let his shadow soldiers witness your intimate acts. Whenever you two were together, your husband would always command his army to shut down all their senses for a moment, to give you the privacy you needed. You weren’t sure why Igris could see you now, but the thought horrified you. “I’ve always been awkward with him because he doesn’t talk much and seems so… noble. If he saw us kissing like that, I… I don’t think I could face him again. Especially after…” You kept on rambling, driven out of shame, submerged at the thought of seeing the dark knight again after he witnessed everything that happened between you and his master.

Unbeknownst to you, Jinwoo’s eyes darkened, completely lost in the view. Seeing you like this, standing so small and fidgety before him, looking so flustered that you couldn’t handle meeting his eyes when you spoke—

God, I want to ruin her. 

I want to make her all mine again. 

His nails scraped against his palm as he tried to find restraint, his throat burning with the desire to claim you, to taste you, to drink everything you give him. You were asking him a question, weren’t you? Something about Igris. Fuck, he couldn’t remember it. He couldn’t pay attention to any of the lines you said, watching how your mouth shaped the words but not registering them. Your voice was a whisper in his ear, easily drowned by the filthy thoughts that grew even more vehemently with each second passing by.

“Honey?”

At your call, he averted his gaze. One more second looking at you, and he would’ve succumbed to his needs. “Hmm?”

“I asked you if Igris saw us.”

“Huh? Oh, right. Yes, they saw it.”

“Wait—They?”

“Yeah, the entire army, basically.” Though he wanted to seem apologetic, his grin betrayed him. “I was too absorbed with you that I forgot to tell them to close their eyes.”

You gaped, colors draining fast from your face. “Jinwoo! ”

He laughed quietly at your reaction, catching the little punches you threw to his chest.  “Baby, relax. So what if they saw us kissing? You’re my love.”

Your stomach somersaulted at the word he chose. He could’ve just said my wife instead of my love. It would've been easier for your heart. “Well, I don’t want them to see that…” Another pout, another wild urge he had to chase away before he bruised your lips with his own. You exhaled. For some reason, you felt exhausted. “Though it’s… sweet how Igris tried to keep you from running late. That should’ve been my job. Did he just pop up, tell you to go, and then disappear again?” The vision of it looked funny in your head because surely, he must’ve been embarrassed seeing us like that, right?

“Actually, he told me to stay.” Your husband wound his arms around your waist, drawing you closer before he rested them on your curves. “He said that I should just send him there and let him take care of the gate for me. So I can be here with my queen.”

“‘Your queen?”’ You repeated, couldn’t help but feel amused even though you were touched by how caring the dark knight was to your family.

Scarlet tinged his cheek. “His words, not mine.”

“I see. So, I’m not your queen, then?”

The shade deepened as he tossed his face to the side. “Of”—he cleared his throat, his voice reducing to a mumble—“Of course, you are.”

You giggled, and your husband softened into another smile, staring at you affectionately. He seemed glad that you’d rediscovered the strength to throw a jest or two. 

“Well, as much as I don’t wish for my king to go,” you dawdled with your words, building expectations as you glided one hand up his chest. You could feel the ridges of his lean, taut muscles underneath his shirt. A wave of desire pooled inside your stomach, threatening to resurface if you weren’t being careful. “The world needs him. Even if I keep you to myself now, you’re bound to leave for another mission sooner or later. I’ve come to realize that…” You paused to gain control of your emotions, your hands fixing his collar in your attempt to seek distraction. “The best way to deal with this is by getting myself used to it. Get used to this feeling that you leave me when you kiss me goodbye. I have to teach myself to be patient, as it will only be a matter of time before my husband returns. I think that’s what I have to do,” you smiled at him, shy amidst the mischievousness that you previously displayed. “As your queen.”

His heart thawed at your lines, cradling you close enough by the shoulders to bury his face in your hair, breathing in your scent, memorizing it so he could recall this sense of peace you gave him when he was miles away from you. Even without words, you could tell just how proud he was of you. “Thank you,” he murmured against your temple. He kept you this way for a moment, his nose nuzzling against your strands until he remembered how time would never be merciful to him. “I really have to go, baby…”

“I know…”

But when he pulled away, he couldn’t find the strength to detach his gaze from you, caught in a conflict between his feelings and his responsibility. “I’ll be…”—he traced your cheek, his gaze falling to your lips—“back soon, okay…?”

You nibbled at the corner of your lip, causing him to nearly groan at the sight. You didn’t mean to entice him; you were just nervous under his hooded gaze, your body brimming with anticipation. You knew he wanted another kiss, another touch, and you wanted thousands of them, but— “Okay…”

Jinwoo moved closer, as close as he could be, his face hovering merely a few inches from yours. Nothing but desire resided in his eyes, his voice low and husky when he spoke, “Don’t miss me too much…”

It was like the air crackled between you, invisible hands drawing you together. Your fingers twined a little tighter around the front of his coat, itching to tug him down and erase the millimeters of space separating your lips. “I’ll try…” You replied with shivers in your breath, and in a moment of weakness, your gaze cascaded to his lips.

And seeing that, he snapped.

All shadows. Leave us. Now.

“Jin—mmph!” You were pushed back against the wall, your body lifted to your toes, and your lips devoured. He couldn’t do it. Whatever battle he was fighting inside, he lost it the moment he realized you wanted him just the same, and he didn’t care. You were still his prize to claim, your taste was his to consume, your warmth was his to take, and he drowned in you almost instantly, his fingers possessively grabbing your face, leaving you with no choice but to accept his kiss, to accept whatever it was he planned to give you. 

Without wasting a second, he wedged his knee between your legs, parting them open and having his thigh pressed firmly against your core. You gasped against his mouth, your body clinging onto him, shuddering at the thrilling sensation. “J-Jinwoo—”

“I know,” he replied shortly, almost in a growl, breathless against your mouth. “I need you, too, so just—” He pressed your body tight against him, his lips placed upon yours again with such urgency as if being separated from you for merely a second deprived him of all the oxygen he needed.

The last thread of restraint in your head forced you to place your hands on his chest. Despite your aching need to rub yourself against his thigh, you voiced your thoughts aloud between lustful kisses. “Wait—we shouldn’t—mmph—”

With a grunt, he removed your hands from him, pinning them against the wall as he ceaselessly devoured your mouth. He kept you that way, trapped and caged within his hold. “Y-you have to go,” you managed to whimper out, your body tensing as he trailed open-mouthed kisses down your throat.

Jinwoo finally broke away, his face flushed, painted over with nothing but ardor. “Want me to stop?”

Your heart thrashed wildly inside your chest. The huskiness in his voice, the way his breathing turned heavy at the sight of you—what women would say no?

“Come here.” You pulled him back to you, begged him for another kiss, a wish that he was so eager to comply. Struggling to match his pace, you found yourself clawing at the back of his trench coat, one of your legs hooking around his thigh as he pushed your dress up to your stomach, revealing more soft skin and supple flesh for him to grip and sink his nails into. He grunted against your neck, a string of expletives among sinful praises, and you shut your eyes, head thrown back at the thrill of having him act so needy, so desperate for you. 

You couldn’t care about anything, not anymore, but your memory recalled the sour look he made when he checked on his watch a moment ago. How much time do we have until he really needs to go? “Jinwoo—ah—” You felt his teeth grinding not so gently against your skin, marking you as if he wanted to leave something for you to remember him by, to ache for in your wake. “W-what time should you be leaving—”

His fingers circled your throat, holding you dominantly in his grip. “Ten minutes ago. Open your mouth.”

He deepened the kiss as soon as you parted your lips for him, moaning at the burst of your taste on his tongue. You welcomed his taste with a gasp, your hands now crawling up his nape, his hair, making a nest out of his strands the same way he made a mess out of you. His tongue delved inside, begging for a sliver of your sweetness, but you wanted to give him everything, and you did, your tongue sliding against his own, kissing him as if this was your last time to remember just how amazing he felt against you, lips to lips, tongue to tongue, body to body. All the fear you had over his departure, all the love you held for him, they dissolved into one, into this burning ache that permeated your core, the need to have him close.

And God, you wanted more, wanted him so badly, it felt like torture.

“Fuck,” Jinwoo groaned, followed quickly by a low moan of your name. He was really trying to hold back, to only settle down for a kiss or two, but— “Why do you have to be so goddamn irresistible all the time?”

He was suffering just the same, one hand slamming against the door to maintain his distance, to keep him away from crushing you, from becoming one with you. It balled into a fist, evidence of what was left of his self-control; his fingers clenched so tightly that it painted his knuckles white and his palm crimson. His other arm snaked around your waist as his mouth sucked bruises on your collarbone, his nails clawing against the fabric of your dress, eager to tear it apart right then, right there. Rough, sinful noises continued to stream past his lips as you brought your lower half even closer to him, the sound low and deep; it was almost primal. 

“Ngh, baby, please—” He pleaded with his eyebrows sewn together, his jaw slackening at the sensation of you pushing your hips back, grinding on him. You could feel just how hard he was beneath his pants, the contour of his cock nudging deliciously against your clothed heat. It excited you, your heart swelling in satisfaction at how fast you could turn the most powerful man in the world into a desperate lover with only a few touches. Only you had this power over him, and he made sure to worship you for it.

His body reacted instinctively, rocking his hips against yours, quickly taking over control. Somewhere in the labyrinth of your mind, a voice reminded you to stop, he’s already late as it is, and you can’t do this here, not outside, not for everyone’s eyes to see, but when Jinwoo caught your earlobe between his teeth, his voice dangerous and guttural when he said, “God, Sweetheart, you don’t know how much I want to be inside you right now,” all you could think was—

Yes, please.

You smashed your lips against his, your fingers tugging hard at the roots of his hair, robbing another shameless moan out of him. He welcomed your burning passion, reciprocating it by doubling the intensity. None of you gave a damn where you were or what time it was; none of it mattered, not anymore. You just needed him, and he needed you. Not just want. Need.

Jinwoo unclasped his belt with one hand while keeping hold of your face with the other; his movements rushed, lacking the usual grace that he normally exuded. You were sure he didn’t mean to tear your lingerie apart, but even if he did, it would’ve only added more fuel to the shimmering flames inside you. Now that your bottom half was bare and exposed, he took himself out of his confinement, holding his length in one hand, his tongue gliding over his bottom lip as he rubbed his tip against your protruding clit.

You shivered, your hips swaying on their own, begging him to just ram it inside. “Jinwoo, please.”

“You’re gonna make me lose my mind,” he growled, lifting your body higher on the wall, making you hold on to nothing but him to fight back gravity. “Arms around my neck,” he commanded, his mouth hot against your jawline. His coat slid off his shoulders as he positioned himself over your entrance, pooling around his elbows.

But then, Jinwoo slowed down amidst the heat of your passion, just for a moment. Even as his desire consumed him from within, your consent remained a top priority. He needed to make sure that he wasn’t hurting you or, worse, doing anything you didn’t want him to. Your husband took a second to look at you, wanting you to give your permission out loud even when all his heightened senses and perceptions had found their answer a while ago. “Can I have you?”

Your reply came in the shape of you carding your fingers through his locks again, your mouth colliding with his as you spread your legs a little wider. “Yes,” you breathed out. “I need you, please—oh!” 

You felt him pushing himself inside the second your plea left your mouth, stretching all of your walls at once. 

“Ah, fuck,” Jinwoo groaned deep and loud, slamming one hand against the wall, the vein in his neck popping from beneath his pale skin. His reaction was almost as if he’d never experienced such pleasure before, his body trembling at the feeling of your heat tightening around him, so drenched inside that you could take him—his everything—all in one go. “God, you feel so good.” He locked your lips together again, moaning at the feeling of being shrouded by your warmth. He moved his hips tentatively to ensure your comfort, but he surrendered immediately after the first try. “Sorry, Sweetheart, I don’t think I can—ngh—hold back—” 

He began to move, his teeth nibbling on the skin of your shoulder to contain his grunts, his hips thrusting fast and rough, sliding himself in and out of you in the desperation of a heated beast seeking a release. Just like him, you were feeling it much more than anything you’d ever done with him. Maybe it was the place, the sensation of doing something so indecent, so out in the open. Maybe it was because you were both trying so desperately to comfort yourselves, to forget your upcoming separation, even only for a moment. Or maybe it was simply because you loved him so ardently, the same way he did about you. 

Now that the sun had sunk entirely below the horizon, the night was nearly pitch black. No stars were in sight, as if they grew too shy to witness something so obscene. Detecting the darkness around you, the lights around the house switched on automatically, illuminating the entryway and the lush garden around you with a warm, romantic glow. The magical view of the scenery usually brought a sense of serenity to your heart, but no, not that night. Not when you were stuck in a very compromising position with your husband. The worst one of all was the three pendant lights shining brightly above you, dangling from your high ceilings, exposing the way your bodies rocked together in rapid, rhythmless motions for the whole world to see.

You couldn’t help but be distracted by them, your body tensing. If anyone were passing by, with the way your husband had you pinned against the wall, your heels digging to the small of his back, your fingers tugging on the roots of his hair, they would discover you in a heartbeat. 

“J-Jinwoo—wait—the lights—”

With his lips sucking hard bruises on your neck, Jinwoo lifted one hand in the air and clenched his fingers into a fist. All the lightbulbs shattered at once, their sounds piercing the air, stealing a surprised yelp out of you, which he silenced immediately with his mouth. The same invisible force shielded you from the pieces of glass raining down from the ceiling, leaving your heart rattling in your chest but your skin uninjured.

You were embraced by the darkness again, though it was never as thick as you would love it to be. The silver moonlight still bathed your skin, and the golden shine of the bollard lights surrounding your garden remained bright enough for you to discern your husband’s features, but at least, you no longer felt like you were standing under the spotlight. You still couldn’t entirely chase your anxiety away, however, and noticing that, Jinwoo captured your face, his fingers pressed firmly on each side of your jaw.

"Focus on me,” he said, palm plastered against the front of your throat. Although pain was absent from his touch, his hold on you was firm, controlling, his voice commanding. “I don’t want you to think about anything else. Keep your eyes on me. Focus on how I’m making you feel right now.” 

And it felt good. He made you feel so damn good that by the time he plunged himself deep into you again, you found yourself crying out against his mouth, clutching onto him like a lifeline. Jinwoo was just as deep in rapture as you were, unintentionally ripping the top buttons of your dress in his desperation to taste more of your skin. He was beyond aggressive, unrestrained, and impatient, and God, you loved it. You couldn’t remember the last time he was like this, and the feelings brought you quickly to ecstasy. 

You were close, your pleasure building up faster than it ever did. “Jinwoo, I’m—”

“I know,” he moaned against your shoulder, his teeth just one pressure away from sinking into your flesh. “I’m close too, angel, just a little bit… ngh… more…”

He quickened his pace, taking his cock completely out of you only to drive himself back to the hilt, each thrust hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. You fell over the edge with your lips parted in a silent moan, your nails scraping against the back of his shirt, your legs shaking, tautening around him as you reached cloud nine.

The sensation of your walls closing in around his cock was almost too much to bear, but he needed that one single push, just one sweet moan from you in the shape of his name, to make him grasp that vigorous wave of euphoria. “Sweetheart, please—”

Knowing exactly what he was begging for, you embraced him closely by the neck, gripped his soft locks beneath your fingers, and whispered the words he’d been dying to hear right against his mouth.

“I love you, Jinwoo.” 

He shuddered, his skin breaking into goosebumps, and he finished inside you with a deep, gravelly groan erupting from the back of his throat. His hips stuttered, slowing down but not yet stopping until he finished spilling everything inside. His breaths came out raggedly, hot against your neck. His left hand was still glued to the wall beside your head. 

As your tremors began to dissipate, your husband carefully placed you back on your feet, holding you close until you could stand on your own. Your legs felt like jelly beneath your weight, your strength leaving you after experiencing what might be one of the most mind-blowing orgasms you’d ever had.

“That was… intense,” Jinwoo tittered breathlessly, his hair all tousled, his face the prettiest shade of pink. It mesmerized you just how stunning he looked like this, and it satisfied you more than anything to know that you would always be the one—the only one—who could see this side of him, who could bring this side of him into view. Little did you know he was thinking the same thing about you. The way you stood there, gazing up at him with your starry eyes slightly watery from your orgasm, your dress torn and crumpled, your skin marked and claimed. He could easily go for another round—or three—if you let him.

“You okay?” He asked as he swatted the stray strands out of your eyes, helping you with your dress before he fixed his own attire. You nodded a bit drunkenly, and he let out another chuckle before planting a soft kiss on your temple. “I’m sorry for ruining your dress.”

“And my panties,” you added, snatching the torn fabric away from your heel. You stared flatly at it, your tone monotonous when you said, “Unbelievable. This is the third time, Jinwoo. Three times you’ve done this to me."

He was embarrassed by it. So cute. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not sorry,” you teased him with a poke on his cheek. “Buy me another one? The dress, I mean. I don’t trust you with my lingerie after what you bought me last time.”

He laughed softly at the memory. “I’ll buy you the prettiest one. Promise.” Brushing a light kiss on your temple, he spoke his worry once more. “How are you feeling? Did I hurt you?” 

The genuine concern in his tone caused your joy to unfold. In all honesty, yes, he did, but every pain was welcomed—no, every pain was desired, and you wished you could have more. More consuming kisses that left your lips swollen. More love bites on your neck that would last until he returned home. More bruises on your hips and thighs from how hard he was holding you. It felt nice to be dominated, to be owned, to be so wanted by your husband that he lost control of himself, of his mind. 

“What?” Jinwoo raised a brow, looking at you funny. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“Nothing,” you replied with a sheepish smile, stroking his cheek. But with him looking at you with such confusion in his eyes, you felt like you owed him the truth. “I just realized you never fucked me this way before, and it scares me just how much I enjoyed it.”

He blushed at your words, so fervently that you wondered if this was the same man who had just mounted you like a beast in heat a moment ago. But then he laughed, the sound so delicate and pretty in your ears. “I was going to apologize for being carried away, but…” He bent his head down, bringing himself to your eye level as a smirk crept up his lips. “If that’s what you’re into, then I have so much more in store for you.”

You swallowed, your skin tingling with excitement at the thought. “W-we can try that after you get home. Don’t you have a plane to catch?”

“Shit, you’re right.” As unbelievable as it was, he had truly forgotten about it. Jinwoo hastily rummaged through his pocket for his car key, racing against time. “Okay, I’ll be leaving now.” He kissed you quickly, almost making you stumble from how fast he was grabbing your face. “Goodbye, love. I’ll see you soon.”

“Jinwoo, wait,” you giggled, tugging him back by his arm. “You got my lipstick all over you.” You rubbed your thumb over his lips, trying to wipe off the red stain. “And your hair’s mess. Do you have a comb with you?”

“It’s all right, I love it like this.” He tossed you a boyish smile. “It feels like I’m carrying a part of you with me, like some kind of proof that reminds me of what we just did.” He then continued in a whisper, his smirk grazing your earlobe. “The same way you’re carrying a part of me… inside you.”

You grew mortified, all due to his words and the feeling of his essence seeping out of you. You could feel it trickling down your thigh before you squeezed your legs together, face aflame. “Leave. Now.” You whirled his body around, shoving him forward. “And tell your shadow soldiers to help me change the lights. I can’t believe you used your skill for that.”

He tossed you a grin over his shoulder. “Gotta make the best use of what I have, Sweetheart.” 

“I don’t think Igris would be happy to know that you’re using Ruler's Hand for sex.”

“Oh, baby, trust me, if I were planning to use Ruler’s Hand for sex, bursting lightbulbs would be at the bottom of the list.” His smirk carried the promise of something lewd, something naughty. “And also, if I’m happy, all my soldiers are happy, Igris included. And I’m definitely happy right now, all thanks to my sweet girl.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you snorted despite heat filling your cheeks. “Now go before Jinho kills you.” 

He chortled softly, “Yes, Ma’am.” 

You watched him stride away with your hands on your hips, sighing despite the way your lips curved up in amusement. You were going to miss these little banters you have. Some parts of you still refused to let him go, but when Jinwoo rolled down his window, giving you one last smile with one hand on the steering wheel, all you could say was, “Come home to me, darling.”

“I will, baby.”

And as he drove into the night, disappearing from your sight and leaving your heart lamenting in your chest, you knew you had no choice but to put your faith in him. This wouldn’t be the last time you see him. It would never be. Jinwoo would make sure of that.

Because if he had to watch the world burn for it, for you, then so be it. 

Heaven or hell, Gods or the Devils, I’ll destroy them all.

As long as I can come home to you, Sweetheart, nothing else matters. ***

[starcurtain]

Teyvat's "Most Down Bad" Award Goes to Alhaitham for a Second Year Running

Seeing everyone making fun of Alhaitham for his "stalkerish" tendencies in this event is funny, because I feel like a lot of people missed that "Be literally everywhere Kaveh is" has been Alhaitham's MO from the day Kaveh appeared in the game.

From only grabbing his house keys after Kaveh returned from the desert (he couldn't have had both sets of keys at the end of the Archon Quest unless he went home and got Kaveh's copy) to ditching conversations to get back to his house only after Kaveh came home, to showing up without any warning or explanation in Kaveh's hangout with some ridiculous excuse about hearing his voice through noise-cancelling headphones... Refusing to offer any help in the Temple of Silence story quest other than staying in the library with Kaveh...

Since when does Alhaitham willingly cover anyone else's duties?

But this trend of "Be everywhere Kaveh is" didn't start when they were adults. It was already in place when they were still Akademiya students--and it's a trend that didn't end even when they had their fight.

Even when they weren't speaking, Alhaitham dogged Kaveh's every step through published responses to Kaveh's research articles in academic journals. He insisted on keeping a line of communication between himself and Kaveh open, even if the only way to do that was through very public ideological clashes. Pulling Kaveh's pigtails to get his attention lolol. It's implied that, for at least the few years between their fight and Kaveh moving in, this was the only communication between them--Alhaitham's refusal to allow their connection to entirely fade away. (And the fact that this is revealed in Kaveh's character stories--through his precious journal that records the moments of his life that had the most impact on him--shows just how deeply he values the fact that Alhaitham didn't give up.)

Another relevant side note: Alhaitham never asked Kaveh to give up his half of their house. Knowing half of it belonged to Kaveh, knowing that Kaveh may one day want to reclaim his part of it, knowing that it was listed as theirs, Alhaitham moved into the house and made zero effort to change its ownership. He was completely fine with living in "his and Kaveh's house." The stories suggest it was only months later (or even longer) that Kaveh even noticed he had the house, and he transferred away ownership of his portion without Alhaitham ever asking him (or even seemingly wanting him) to do so.

Please, let that sink in. Alhaitham actively left his grandmother's (presumably comfortable) house to move into "his and Kaveh's house," with no apparent explanation for why, and after doing so, he made no attempt to change that "his and Kaveh's" label. He moved into the house with no promise that Kaveh wouldn't show up on the doorstep the very next day and move in too. It almost feels like another deliberate provocation--I've moved into our house, are you going to come stop me? LBR, if Alhaitham had had his way, Kaveh would have been living there with him from Day 1...

There's also the fact that Kaveh literally can't write on a single message board anywhere in the entire nation of Sumeru without Alhaitham hunting his messages down and responding to them (which absolutely no one else does, by the way).

"NUH-UH!" "UH-HUH." "NUH-UH!"

Alhaitham's own character stories tell us explicitly that one of Alhaitham's defining character traits is "He is never where you need him to be," yet somehow...

Shot, and chaser:

Any time Kaveh is in the slightest bit of need or danger or just wants Alhaitham near, Alhaitham is "coincidentally" exactly where Kaveh needs him to be, whenever Kaveh needs him to be there.

Alhaitham didn't just "happen" to run into Kaveh in Port Ormos, an entirely different city from where he was supposed to be working. He didn't just "happen" to read the same terrible book as Kaveh when we know he otherwise would not waste a moment of his time on poorly-written literature...

He didn't just "happen" to appear when Kaveh was upset and needed a distraction in the House of Daena during Kaveh's hangout. He didn't just "happen" to be sitting around waiting when Kaveh needed answers after the Archon Quest. He didn't just "happen" to find Kaveh's academic publications and every single message board posting and respond to them at length and in public.

Which is exactly what Kaveh's mother told Kaveh he needed.

What level of down bad is "Abusing your powers as an Akademiya employee to keep tabs on your crush's library loans"? Just asking for a friend.

The only person for whom Alhaitham just "happens" to be available is Kaveh, over and over and over again--because he is very deliberately making himself a constant presence in Kaveh's life.

(Like, out of all things, I think people really underestimate the devs deliberately paralleling the romantic relationship between Kaveh's mother and father with Kaveh and Alhaitham's relationship. If you want to point to one thing that says "These two characters are intentionally queer-coded," it doesn't get any more obvious than this.)

Alhaitham, are you not embarrassed to be this transparent??? 🫣

[snowande]

Side quest 2 with isekai Reader that is a healer with a unique way

(male orc x female)

From this story Side quest 1

After done doing your job at the camps, you return to your villages, riding trough the trails with your horse on the way home.

You hear a scream and grunts from the woods, you stop on the trails and put your horse on a leash on to a tree, when you investigate, slowly pushing away the bushes to the voice, and you see, a orc getting jump by a pack of werewolf.

The orc's cries for help are muffled by the sound of his own screams and the werewolves' growls. His arms are wrapped around one of the werewolves, trying to crush it, but there are too many of them. They tear at his flesh, their claws and teeth.

The orc was smaller than a normal orc.

You grab a magic bomb from your bag and throw it at the werewolves. The magic bomb explodes with a blinding flash of light and a deafening roar.

Several werewolves are blinded and howling from the blast. The remaining beasts hesitate for a moment.

The werewolves pack eventually back off and left you with the poor wounded orc, doesn't orcs come in a pack? like the werewolves? you thought to yourself.

But this particular orc seems to be alone, and his injuries are severe. He's bleeding profusely from multiple wounds, and his armor is dented and cracked.

You walk to the injured orc and kneel in front of him "hey, where are your friends?" you softly said to the orc, the orc his eyes sadded. "My pack... left me to die. because I'm the weakest I thought they are my family..." the orc said.

You look at him in pity and feel bad for him, you will not let the poor orc died, bleeding to death, so you ask if the orc can still walk, well you can't pick him up, because he was large than you.

The orc groan in pain as he tries to get up, his movements slow and painful. "I-I can still walk, but not far..." he admits, leaning against a nearby tree for support. "Who are you, human? Why help me?".

"I help you because it's my job as a healer, even if you're an orc, I still help you, not all orcs are bad..." you said as slowly guide him, to a nearby lake, sit him down at the grass and let him lean on a tree.

His breath is uneven and labored. "Humans... you're different... most of them feared us, killed us on sight, But..." he looks at you with dark, thoughtful eyes "You're kind..."

He reaches out with a large, bloody hand and gently touches your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle, considering his size and strength. "Thank you human, My name is Arosh, I owe you my life." He looks at you with gratitude.

Arosh watches as you gently remove his armor, his eyes never leaving yours. He seems to be studying you, trying to understand this kind human who saved his life.

As you work, he notices the way your fingers brush against his skin, and he shivers slightly. "um... Arosh you see... I'm not like how the other healer 'heal' so bear with me alright?' you said to arosh, arosh look at you confused, when suddenly you lean on his bare stomach and lick his wounds.

His breath catching in his throat. He's seen healers before, usually heal with their hands and healing potions. But this... this is something else entirely. "What are you doing? "

As you continue to tend to his wounds with your tongue, Arosh realizes that you're healing your saliva. He watches in awe as his wounds slowly start to knit back together, his skin mending under your care.

"It seems the deeper wound are not healing throughly..." you said while looking at the confused arosh. Arosh looks down at the deep gashes on his chest, He watches as you furrow your brow, studying them intently.

"Welp, the only healing that is strong is this." You said while dropping your pants. His eyes widen at the sight of your naked lower body, his breath catching in his throat.

His eyes wander over your thighs before meeting your gaze again. "What..." he swallows hard "What are you suggesting?" "well you see Arosh, I can heal someone with any liquid that comes out of my body, the strongest liquid is my essences...." you said while blushing.

Arosh's eyes flicker down to your core, understanding dawning on him. He licks his lips, his own body responding to the implication. Despite his injuries, he can feel a growing heat in his loins. "So, you're saying..."

He swallows hard, his mind racing with the implications. "You're saying that if I... if we... you can heal my deeper wounds?" He looks back up at your face, searching for confirmation.

"You mean, if we have intercourse, your... essence... will heal my wounds?" He says the words carefully, testing them out. He's never heard of such a thing, but then again, he's never met a healer like you before.

"n-not yet! we have to do intercourse if the wounds are not healing if drinking my essence doesn't work!" you said.

Arosh nods slowly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "So... it's a last resort, then. If drinking your essence doesn't heal my wounds, we'll need to have intercourse instead." He pauses, his heart racing at the thought of such an intimate act.

"Yes unfortunately..., right... okay let's heal you now" you said while told him to lay down so it will be easy to work with. Arosh nods, understanding your request. He carefully lies down on his back.

As you hover your body in front of his, Arosh's eyes widen at the sight of your pussy so close to his face. His breath catches in his throat as he feels your warmth against his face.

Palms flat against your hips to keep you steady as he buries his face between your legs. His long, rough tongue laps at your core, drinking in your essence. He makes loud, hungry noises as he laps at your cunt.

"ah! ngh!" you moan, it feels so different... Arosh tongue is bigger than other people, of course it's because he was an orc. Your moans only encourage him further.

He keeps his arm locked around your hips, keeping you pinned in place as he uses his massive tongue to explore your every fold, his broad nose pressing against your clit.

His thumbs to pull your lower lips apart, giving himself full access to your core. Without warning, he plunges his long, thick tongue deep into your pussy, curling it to reach every inch of your inner walls.

His thumbs keep your lips spread wide, holding you open for his oral assault. He begins to move his tongue in and out, mimicking the motion of fucking.

As he continues his relentless tongue-fucking, he brings one of his large hands up to your clit, his thumb and forefinger pinching and rolling the sensitive nub. The dual stimulation is almost too much to bear. He looks up at you with hungry, crazed eyes.

Growling against your pussy, his voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh "Going, to make you cum..." His tongue moves faster, deeper, almost brutal in its intensity. The hand pinching your clit moves in time with his tongue thrusts.

"ah! oh! god! I think I'm about to-" you moan while shaking, you never feel felt so much pleasure before. He feels your body tense up, knows you're close to climaxing. he suck your clit, making you squirt.

Catching your essence with his tongue. He moans in pleasure, swallowing every drop. His hands move to your ass, squeezing the flesh as he continues to lap at your pussy, not letting a single drop go to waste.

"d-did it work?" the orc said timidly, you see at his deep wounds it heal a little bit, it means you have to..., his wounds, which are still bleeding but slower now.

"well, I guess we have to do an intercourse then..." you said, He looks up at you, his eyes locked onto yours. He let you crawl into his lap. He slowly lowers his loincloth, revealing his massive, throbbing member.

Position your self on tip of his cock, you lower yourself onto his massive green member, you feel like you're being split in two. He's so large that it hurts, but you know you have to keep going to heal his wounds. He grunts and wraps his thick arms around your waist, pulling you down further.

As you slowly impale yourself on his massive member, then you stop half way, because his dick fill you to the brim, his cock is half inside you, Aros grab your waist and slowly thrusting, letting you get used of his cock.

"Nghh... Haa okay you can move Arosh... " As you give the ok sign, he starts to thrust harder, his massive balls slapping against your ass. Each thrust pushes you further down onto his length, filling you completely.

His muscular body glistens with sweat and blood as he fucks you aggressively, yet careful enough not to hurt you too much.

He keeps thrusting deeper and deeper, you can feel his entire length inside you now, you can feel his huge balls slapping against your backside. He's so deep inside you that it hurts, but it feels good too. He grunts and growls with each thrust.

Without warning, he flips you onto your back His thrusts become more aggressive now, hitting every sensitive spot inside you.

Arosh look down and sees that his deep wounds are healing, and he feel a lot stronger than before? Is it because of your unusual healing?.

He feels invincible now, his wounds are completely healed, and he feels stronger than ever before. He wraps his thick arms around your waist and lifts you up, impaling you on his dick, standing up.

One of his hand tenderly cup your face as he kisses you deeply, while his other hand holding your hip, his thick tongue exploring your mouth while his dick continues to pound into you mercilessly.

His eyes rolling back in his head as he feels his balls tightening, signaling his impending climax. He holds you tighter against him, burying his member as deep as it will go, and unleashes a torrent of thick, hot orc cum deep inside your stretched out pussy.

His cock pulses repeatedly, filling you completely with his thick seed. His powerful arms keep you pinned tight against him as he spills every last drop of his potent cum deep within your core.

His cock remains hard and throbs inside you as he continues to hold you tightly against him, his cum slowly leaking out from your cunt.

Arosh sits down gently, keeping you in his lap, his still hard dick gradually withdraws from your well used hole. He looks down at you tenderly, his rough hands gently stroking your hair "Thank you?." "I-its y/n... Haa" "Thank you y/n..." He pulls you close.

Nuzzling his nose against your neck and inhaling your scent. "You've given me strength and healing. I am in your debt." He kisses your forehead softly, his massive frame trembling with emotion.

Then you drift off to sleep, nestled in the orc's gentle embrace, you feel safe and protected. His warm, musky scent envelops you.

As you sleep, Arosh hold you tight on his hold, Arosh seems doesn't want to let you go. You smell so nice...

He wonder if he can come with you? Even if he came back to his village, would his orc's friends still want him? He can't seems to let you go.

He hope you will bring him!, he will protecting you! And and be a wonderful MATE to you...

Ahh finally done! This one takes a while (´；д；`) - Lumi♡

This picture is from Pinterest Danil Zakablukovskii

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

Tags : @nymphea0 @rainwithoutpain @cinwmoon @sleepydang @xrenka

[hobgoblinsandpeachfuzz]

here have a musical number as a treat*

*i don't write songs very well forgive the cheesiness

But on the plus side, instead of this being my planned finale I now have a rough outline of where I wanted all this to go and more doodles planned xD

We'll see how long it takes to get to all of it xD

(pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt.5, pt. 6)

outline under the read more:

Act I

Overture: Lady Ambrosia kidnaps the players and the narrator so they will tell her story.

Matchmaking (A woman with a kingdom must be in want of a consort)

Just Leave Everything to Me but evil and fairy like

More Important Things

Tadius and Ella agree that there’s too much work to be done to be focused on this. Both are reassured in each other’s commitments, and there is lingering romance. 

Mischief and Romance - Lady Ambrosia Approaches Ella

She tries to go for the kill here first and asks what love looks like to her. Ella does reveal she is in love, but she also confirms her suspicion—Lady Ambrosia is a fairy.

A Quest

Ella sends Sir Crumb to inform the Fairy Queen

The List

Ella was a dead end. Tadius is now the next victim. Lady Ambrosia has finished her list of bachelors and approaches Tadius with them.

Mischief and Romance - Lady Ambrosia has acquired a new target

Lord Cornelius Appleton

Destiny

Tadius laments the clearly destined love between Cornelius and Ella. Ella celebrates the good things in her life now, and how she will protect them, and how she loves Tadius. Lady Ambrosia plans on making things a whole lot worse before they get better—destiny is her plaything after all.

The Bachelor Parade

All the bachelors are introduced and present themselves to Ella, Lord Hop-a-Lot, and Tadius. Tadius does not do his usual good job of keeping in how he feels. Ella reprimands him.

Tadius’s Soliloquy

(Based on How I Am meets Who Am I)

He’s pissed! They were doing good and now distractions are happening! Royals end up only caring about parties and silly things (and maybe he’s in love and can’t admit it!) Ella would never do this!

Take What You Want

Lady Ambrosia steps in right after the soliloquy to encourage Tadius not quite yet fairy reveal. She explains that she has seen that the Queen favors him. It wouldn’t be hard to do all the things they want to do if they were both on the throne.

Tadius isn’t fully convinced yet, but he’s thinking.

Cornelius and Ella

A duet where they reminisce about childhood. Tadius sees them get close and leaves before Ella explains to Cornelius that her heart belongs to another. In being her friend, he encourages her to go for it. Ella says it’s Tadius, and Cornelius, a good dude, reminds her she has changed so much already, who cares about Tadius’s upbringing. This can only make the world better. (A positive spin on Take What You Want)

The Ball

The Way I’m Meant to

Ella and Tadius fight and then confirm their love.

Take What You Want Reprise

Ella leaves and while in love and feeling better Tadius still has fears and doubts. This isn’t how things are done. Lady Ambrosia preys on them. When Tadius affirms that he believes in Ella and loves her and will do the right thing, Lady Ambrosia is grossed out and has to go to plan C: possession. What’s important is she is only revealing his darker impulses—none of this is not something within Tadius himself.

Act II

Sir Crumb returns and tells Ella what the Fairy Queen told him. She’ll need to go to the forest herself to be able to get the means to defeat Lady Ambrosia. She leaves with Sir Crumb and asks Lord Hop-a-Lot to keep an eye on things.

A New King in Town

Dark Tadius Emerges and declares all the Bachelors can go home. He will be marrying Ella and he will be King. Fairy Guards drag them to dungeons. He is VIBING HARD.

Sisters

Ella talks to the Fairy Queen. She cannot grant Ella another wish, but if Ella takes a wand from her branches she can at least have one moment of starlight to confront Lady Ambrosia. The Fairy Queen sings about the two sisters duality and how they are oft opposed but have to survive together.

Ridiculous

Lord Hop-A-Lot tries to get through to Tadius. He sings his genuine feelings on royalty, magic, fairy tales, and love—it’s ridiculous. Hard work is all that matters, and sense. Lord Hop-A-Lot tries to remind him of Ella—everyone knew they were in love. Tadius thinks he is doing this for Ella—magic has hurt her so. But now he is at war with himself. He is also ridiculous.

The Way I’m Meant to Reprise

Ella returns with the wand and Sir Crumb and confronts Dark Tadius. Love does conquer all especially within the powers of a fairy of romance.

Mischief and Romance and Green and Goodness

Lady Ambrosia Fights Back. She is defeated by the wand in a kick ass fairy battle.

Tadius and Ella (a reprise of sorts of Cornelius and Ella)

Tadius apologizes profusely to Ella. It was him, it was his darkest thoughts, and Ella forgives him. She still chooses him, no matter what. Their dark impulses are actually quite the same. But as a team, they can balance each other. 

They apologize to all the nobles and bachelors. There likely will be further fallout but they’ll deal with it together.

The Way I’m Meant To (Finale)

Tadius and Ella get married. Lady Ambrosia crashes and flirts with Lord Hop-a-Lot. 

Storytelling (A woman with a kingdom must be in want of a consort)

The narrator finally escapes Lady Ambrosia’s clutches and sings his own version of the beginning song to end.

[afterglowsainz]

we used to have more pt. 4 | oscar piastri, pato o’ward

part 1 part 2 part 3

pairing: oscar piastri x reader, pato o’ward x reader

summary: where a talk in a hotel room and a work trip to mexico make things clear for you

fc: different girls from pinterest

warnings: mentions of toxic relationships

a/n: ahhh sorry it took me a while to post this! but finally here it is the last part of this mini series that i loved creating <3 thank you so so much for supporting it the way you did, all the comments, reblogs and likes meant the world to me while writing it💗

—

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others

yourusername home sweet home

tagged lissiemackintosh

view all comments

username dry ass caption

username girlie is NOT happy to be back

username y/n i know you wanted to stay in america but you can at least act a little bit more excited to be back 😭

username the fact it was sunny all weekend and she posted a pic of the only HOUR of rain is diabolical

declanmurray you can at least pretend

yourusername i’m not contractually obligated to

username pls 😭

username idc she’s down MOTHER IS BACK

oscarpiastri happy you’re back! ❤️

username chat when the guy you’re off and on for years says he’s happy you’re back how to do you react?

username ohhh but we’re having THE fashion icon that is y/n again at the paddock i cannot complain

patriciooward have fun!

yourusername <3333

username pls the way she ignored oscar so severely 😭

liked by yourusername, milesbaldwin and others

patriciooward can never say no to a side quest

view all comments

username NORBIIII 🥰

username every photo was whiplash after whiplash

username incredibly cute and incredibly hot

username don’t push girls

username i am that cookie actually

username i need him in a way that’s concerning for feminism

yourusername boys 🥹

patriciooward miss you!

username no they are my parents

username oscar i was rooting for you but now … i’m not so sure

liked by patriciooward, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername the prodigal son returns home 🇲🇽

view all comments

username omg is this a hard launch??? what is this !!!

username patoooo 💖

username the way you can see everything about her posting changed since she arrived in mexico

username is it wrong to assume it’s because she’s with pato again? 😩

username pato and y/n in mexico is everything

username ohhhh oscar reaaaally fumbled this time

username nahhh im being delusional thinking oscar still has an opportunity (pls y/n give him a chance 😩)

username well, at least she’s posting again 🥳

patriciooward ☀️

yourusername ☀️✨✨💫

liked by indygossip, f1wags and others

f1gossip indycar and mclaren’s reserve driver patricio o’ward was seen last night having dinner and sharing a kiss with f1 community manager y/n y/l/n

it has been rumored for a few years that she was on a relationship on and off with mclaren’s oscar piastri, but it was never confirmed as the driver kept going back to his exgirlfriend

view all comments

username not oscar catching strays 😭😭

f1gossip 🤷🏽‍♀️

username honestly i can’t be mad about this. she deserves someone who makes her happy and pato obviously likes her. they look good together 💗

username THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE

username someone check on oscar 😩

username watch him go back to his exgirlfriend after hearing the news 🙄

username genuinely hoping he doesn’t do that otherwise he’s just reinforcing y/n’s decision of moving on

username anddd that relationship CANNOT be healthy, for either of them

username i knew they were together from day one, y’all were just blinded by oscar

username because they’re meant to be 😭😭

username in another life perhaps!

liked by yourusername, lissiemackintosh and others

patriciooward favorite place with the greatest company ❤️

view all comments

username ahhh the masters of hard launching i’m so here for this

username THE DRESS

username i don’t know if i wanna be pato or y/n in this situation

username okay don’t rub it in 😭

miguelsossa where’s my photo creds for the second one? 🤨

patriciooward 📷: miguelsossa

miguelsossa thanks it means a lot make sure to pin that comment so everyone can see

username pls why did i thought y/n and pato went out without the whole gang 😭

declanmurray HAH don’t make me laugh

milesbaldwin we do leave them alone sometimes

patriciooward …

lissiemackintosh 😮

username speechless at this

username i’m sure pato is a saint because dealing with y/n’s friends must be a handful 🙏🏽

yourusername beautiful 🤍

patriciooward how’s the weather now? :)

yourusername warm enough, you?

patriciooward clear skies

username STOP THEYRE SO CUTE 🥰

liked by georgerussel63, exgirlfriend and others

oscarpiastri happy place ❤️

tagged exgirlfriend

comments for this post have been disabled

—

taglist; @heavy-vettel @a-beaverhausen @astroniii @chunkpiboli @theonottsbxtch @eclecticcreatorweaselsalad @charli123456789 @stopeatread @coriyaps @nina-or-anna-or-nora @ninasw0rld @loveelylani @marauders-wife @dramallama9 @mxdi0 @piastrigate @ladyoflynx @prudyhoo @idkwtdwml123 @southernbaguette @ellelabelle @emryb @fastfactory @comicalivy @seasonswinter @no-144444 @lunamelona @saachiep81 @nataliambc @patis643 @softtina @chemiru @obxstiles @eiaaasamantha @youre-on-your-ownkid @wcnorris @hwalllllllelujah @soleilgrec

[fallstaticexit]

A reimagined story of Princess Cordelia Thebe of the Royal House Thebe OR - A thrill seeking, love obsessed princess inadvertently leads 3 pirate lovers to their death at the hands of a mysterious, vampire bounty hunter AND they kith.

The End- previous | beginning

Author's Note: Fought demons not to make this a long ass series lol Last thing I need is another project but this side quest helped me practice lighting which has always been my archnemesis.

Sim Dump: DOWNLOAD Please enjoy these 3 idiots RIP 😭 They come with any outfits that was shown in the story, every other category is just a copy of 1 of the outfits. Sorry they're all clumped together- sometimes it hard to save sims lately in my game. (Rodrigo’s beard is from Life and Death EP btw)

[Cordelia] Would you do anything for me, darling? [Roger] Yes, anything. I would kneel for you. I would die for you. [Cordelia] Oh my. How chivalrous. I want you to show us. [Roger] Us? [Roger] W-WHAT IS THIS? WHO ARE YOU? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING! W- [Celeste] tsks You picked a mouthy one again. I’ll make it quick. [Celeste] Look away, my love. [Cordelia] No. No, I think I would like to watch this time. [Roger] WAIT! No...no! WAIT! Wait-

Princess Cordelia: Dear Bob, my beloved butler. My dearest friend. I have fallen in love. I know over the years that you have witness my ongoing struggles, my weak efforts to find freedom and passion, but this time, I genuinely feel liberated. The smell of the sea is sharp. The sun glows on my skin. My feet sink in warm, white sand. There are more shells on the shore than I can count. And Celeste... oh, Celeste. She has shown me her world through her eyes and it is beautiful. I am in love, dear friend. With the sea, with freedom, with her. Take care, Bob. With great love, Cordelia Thebe of the Royal House Thebe.

[Harold] Has there been any update on Cordelia's whereabouts? [Bob] I apologize, Your Majesty. Unfortunately, there are no new leads at the moment. Rest assured, we will ensure the princess returns home safely. [Harold] sighs You have always taken great care of my daughter. Thank you, Bob. [Bob] Yes, sir. Of course.

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 2

max verstappen x single mom!reader

{prev} {next}

warnings: cursing, reader y/nsplains, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, logan tries to flirt, y/n's bestie is a tumblr girlie at heart, kiddo steals the show Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 6833 auth.note: thank you all so much for the love for part 1!!! ily all and i'm having so much fun writing this

The paddock was relatively quiet so early in the morning. Unable to sleep, y/n had left the hotel and made her way to the track. She was taking the opportunity to explore the settings on the camera and getting her bearings since she didn't have any work duties to complete until later in the day. She had expected Kevin to want to come with her, but he'd opted to sleep in with Ellie, who would bring him to the track later. So she wandered, exchanging the occasional greeting with others. Stopping to take a photo of a bird perched on the fence in front of pit lane, she backed up, crashing into someone.

"Whoop, s'cuse me, sorry," she said, turning to apologize properly. She recognized the two men by their faces but her mind blanked on their names.

"It's alright, ma'am. Didn't mess up your shot, did we?" His American accent was a happy surprise.

"I don't think so." Smiling, y/n lowered the camera. "My fault, and I'll blame it on being new."

"Marketing?" The other man guessed.

Australian. And suddenly she remembered their names. "Social media. I'm y/n."

"So great to meet you." Logan tipped his head slightly. "Carolina?"

"God, you can take the hick outta Carolina, but you can't take the Carolina outta the hick." He grinned and she laughed. "North Carolina, yeah."

Oscar stared at Logan. "How did you guess that? She just sounds plain American?"

"No, dude, it's the lilt. It's like when George got pissed we couldn't pick up on the different English accents."

"Can he pick up on the different American south accents?" y/n asked.

Logan rolled his eyes. "He knows Brooklyn, Midwest, valley girl, and just south."

"In his defense it's hard to pick out each individual one," Oscar pointed out.

Y/n shrugged. "You've got a point. I sound different from people that grew up just an hour from me."

"Yeah! And I know mine's been butchered from so much time in Europe." Logan nodded.

"You still sound more like home than anyone else I've met."

"I was gonna say the same thing – you sound like home." He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that had her smiling in return.

"And what do I sound like?" Oscar asked with a grin.

"A magical place far, far away," y/n told him. She covertly checked the time and wondered if hospitality had finished setting up so she could get some coffee.

"Hear that? I sound like Star Wars."

"She's using southern charm on you, dude," Logan snorted.

"Well it's working, I'm charmed."

A giggle bubbled up her throat and she let it free, raising her camera and giving them a hopeful look. "Okay?"

"Hang on—" Logan fussed with his hair, and y/n laughed when Oscar reached to help him, then they both had to fuss with Oscar's hair. "Think we're presentable enough?"

She nodded, moving so the sunlight was beside them. She got several photos and thanked them. "I'll send them to y'alls social media teams?"

"You can just send it to me." Logan began patting his pockets for his phone.

"Unbelievable," Oscar muttered under his breath, and y/n barely heard it, giving Logan her number and adding him to her contacts once he'd sent her a text.

"I should get going – Sorry for bumping into you."

"Don't apologize, I'm glad you did."

As she walked away she gave her head a little shake, smiling to herself when she overheard Oscar's grumbling that Logan had flirted with fuckin' Red Bull's social media admin. Something told her to glance back and she did, amused to see Logan watching her. Don't show interest, don't show interest, don't—

He gave a little wave. And she smiled, waving back.

Fuck.

Ducking around the corner, she wandered until she found hospitality, grogginess taking over as she made her way to the back to fix herself coffee. She recognized a couple engineers and mechanics that she'd met in Milton Keyes and greeted them, settling into a corner to drink and look over the pictures she'd gotten.

She was on her second coffee, had uploaded the pictures to her laptop, and was editing the first batch for a short video when the chair across from her was pulled out, taking her shoe with it.

"Sorry," Max said when she yelped, chuckling as he bent to pick up her shoe. "Didn't know you were attached."

"Bad habit I'm afraid." Taking the shoe, she shifted to put it back on. "Picked it up when I was pregnant now I do it without thinking."

"For the swelling?" he asked, sitting down and taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah." After tying the shoelace she shifted, tucking one foot beneath her. "Good morning, by the way."

"Morning. Already working?"

"I'm gonna do a short photo tour of the track. I got some nice shots."

"You walked the track?"

"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, so… It's beautiful first thing in the morning."

Max nodded, picking up his coffee again. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

"Max, you should know that hotel beds suck. Especially with a three year old sleeping sideways and a snoring friend in the other bed. Is this where you tell me you slept great?"

"Haha, no. My sleep was shit but it wasn't because of the bed. I didn't get enough." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I was up late sim racing."

"Okay, explain sim racing to me," she requested, slipping one earbud in so she could check that the music she'd selected went well with the photos. Tweaking it as he began to talk, she realized she was barely paying attention to her work, exporting and posting the video to all the platforms then closing her laptop to focus on him. He talked with his hands. It was something she'd picked up on already, that if he was focused on the topic he used his hands. Maxplaining the fans called it. Finishing her coffee, she listened intently, propping her chin on one hand.

 He smiled, almost shyly, as he finished. "It's something I truly enjoy. I'm not very sociable. I like going out once in a while, but I prefer to stay in, yeah? And I can spend hours in the sim without thinking twice."

"I spent the last few days watching a lot of interviews. Not just of you and Checo, but everyone on the grid," y/n said softly. "Leclerc talks about piano and his family, Norris talks about gaming and DJing, and Hamilton has his six hundred side projects."

"Yes?" He didn't look or sound impatient for her to get to the point, and she appreciated that.

"The thing is, they all have passions outside of racing. This – formula one, fastest cars, all that – is a goal, a dream, but they all have something else they love, that they can pursue now." She paused, meeting his eyes. "The only thing I've seen you passionate about is racing."

He blinked once, nodding his head. "Because it is my passion."

Y/n regarded him carefully for a moment. "You're very lucky, Max."

That must have surprised him, because his brow furrowed. "Why do you say that?"

"Not everyone is able to be successful following their passion. Being able to do what you love for both a job and hobbies is almost unheard of, yet you're doing it. You break records and win races and yeah you've had a few setbacks but you're still in love with this. And on your off time you're training to be better and studying tracks and you go home and race on your computer." She shook her head in amazement. "You're incredibly lucky, that your passion is not only something you're good at but something you can be immersed in nonstop, and that you haven't lost your love for it."

"I guess I am lucky," he said carefully. "But luck had nothing to do with me getting into formula one."

"I know." She held up her hands, not wanting him to think she thought he was in the position he was purely by chance. "I can't imagine how much work you've done over the years, or how many sacrifices you've had to make. It's just… In my experience, passion doesn't always equal financial stability is what I'm trying to say."

"What's that saying? Do something you love and you never work a day in your life?"

Y/n snorted. "That's bullshit. I love sleeping and yet I still have to work."

That made him laugh and she rolled her eyes, even though she enjoyed the sound. "Surely you love more than sleep."

"I love a lot of things. Maybe that's been my problem all my life. I find things and fall in love with them and when I think hey this might be it something new and shiny comes along and I fall in love with that."

"There's nothing wrong with being passionate about many things," Max said gently.

"That's what I keep telling myself. And yet—"

"Are you saying you don't love your job?"

She froze, a wave of panic rippling through her. "Uhmm… Since it's technically my first day I can't answer that."

"Okay. Do you love your social media?" he asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table.

The table which was, suddenly, smaller than she remembered.

"I like engaging others. I like creating conversations and seeing my work appreciated," she finally said.

"You sound like a PR person. Do you love it?" He enunciated each word slowly.

She couldn't say yes. The answer wasn't no, either, because she didn't hate it. "I personally hate it. But you've learned how to make it work for you, yeah? How to word things to spark a conversation among followers? What type of content people appreciate?"

"I like to think so."

"Stop being so unsure of yourself. You study it, right? At your last job when you posted a video and no one liked it what did you do? "

She exhaled harshly. "I compare it to ones that did well and pick it apart to see why it didn't work."

"Why?"

"Why?" she echoed.

"Why did you pick it apart?"

"Because I wanted it to do well," she said slowly.

"And these conversations you want to create, do you join in or sit and watch them happen behind the safety of your screen?" He reached over, gently turning her laptop so he could see the screen.

"I engage. I reply and ask questions to make the viewers want to keep the conversation going."

"Why?"

"Because—" She clicked the mouse, bringing up the comments below the video she'd posted to Instagram. "These comments? Come from people that love this brand – or sport. Some of them are trolls who just want to start up an argument to make their boring lives more interesting for a few minutes, but for the most part it's people who care. People who want to see this team do well. People who had the dream of doing it themselves but life got in the way. People who watched it with their parents and still watch to stay connected to someone they love. It's little kids who want to be like you. It's people who spend their hard earned money on a t-shirt or a hat or a ticket to see someone they admire live out their dream." She took a quick breath, scrolling through the comments. "If I don't like or respond to them, they feel like their opinions don't matter. And maybe they don't in the grand scheme of formula one. But they want to be seen and heard. When I click and they see that Red Bull Racing liked their comment or replied with an emoji or whatever, they have a few seconds of elation, and their support of this team is cemented just a bit more."

Max blinked at her, and she continued even though she heard him draw a breath to speak.

"I know very well how horrible social media can be. However, I've seen how it fosters growth for a company. You're not stupid, I'm sure you've seen how TikTok challenges or Instagram livestreams have brought in more support. Not to mention money. If a post of you wearing your Red Bull shirt gets a million likes, I can probably pull the data and show you that a hundred thousand people went to view the shirt on the official shop and probably twenty-five thousand ordered one. A silly picture of you arriving for race day or a new helmet design pulls people in and gets them excited. And, yes, it makes money. Which in turn pays the salaries of everyone on the team."

"Y/n."

She sucked in a breath. "I'm—"

"Passionate," he whispered before she could say sorry.

"I know what it's like to enjoy something and never feel included," she murmured. "So, yeah… I guess I love what I do, because I like that I can include people in something they love."

His hand covered hers briefly. "For a moment there, I even loved social media."

She watched his fingers squeeze hers before they slid away, wondering why his touch lingered. "Yeah?"

"It's easy to forget that there are real people saying nice things. Sometimes all you can see is the negativity."

"Negativity only breeds more negativity—"

"And when you look at it, it's all you'll see," he murmured.

"Well… So far everything I've posted today has been met with positivity."

"That's good."

"Okay, a few comments about wanting to see Lando on the podium. Thank you for letting me rant about why I do what I do," she said, glancing at his hand without meaning to.

"You let me do the same," he reminded her. Lifting his chin, he waited until she looked at him again. "Are you too busy to see what I was talking about?"

"I don't have anything scheduled until after lunch."

"Perfect." He lightly drummed on the table and stood. "Do you want to see my rig?"

"You do know I won't have a clue what anything but the computer and monitor are, right?" Smiling, she stood and began packing away her stuff.

Closing her laptop, he handed it over, catching her earbud when it fell off the edge of the table. "Maybe you'll like it so much you'll want one of your own."

*-*

He was rambling, he knew he was, telling her about the setup and his plan for the 24 hour race over the weekend and how he had everything scheduled so he could do two of the things he loved most. But he could tell she was paying attention, actually listening, as if she really cared. Rubbing his palms against his thighs, he finished and looked up at her.

"So this is your actual job and the f1 thing is just a hobby?" she teased.

Laughing, he got to his feet and got himself a can of Red Bull. "It's just racing, y/n."

"And racing is life."

"Absolutely." He watched her muffle a yawn behind her hand.

"Am I allowed to mention it in my posts? Because it sounds so badass. Sim race stint then qualifying, chug a Red Bull, sim race stint then race."

"You can mention it, not like it's a secret." He watched her hide another yawn and cleared his throat. "Looks like you need a Red Bull."

She shook her head. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Nodding, he checked the time. Just over an hour before he had to meet with his trainer. "Of course."

"I hate Red Bull," she whispered.

He choked on a laugh. "You what?"

"I've tried so many times! I can just about stomach one of the flavored editions, but the original? Tastes like battery acid to me." She looked embarrassed and covered her face with her hands. "Please don't tell anyone."

"You hate the drink. So you accepted a job with a team owned by the drink company." He wanted to laugh. It was so absurd to him.

"Yes," she groaned.

"That would be like me taking a job at Instagram."

"I know it's so bad. What makes it worse is I love Monster—"

"Of course you do," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Please say you won't tell anyone. If corporate hears, I'll probably get fired. It's in my contract that I can only drink that while in pubic during race weekends which means I've got to either stick to water or learn to fake it."

"Your secret's safe with me," Max promised, breathing in the aroma of her perfume as she moved past him to get her bag.

"Thank you. I think Ellie would kill me if I told her I have to find a new job."

He didn't want her to go so soon. Ridiculous because he knew he'd see her in just a few hours. By the end of the weekend he'd be sick of seeing her. Sipping his drink, he finally sighed and cleared his throat. "You can take a power nap."

She whipped her head around, sending a wave of her perfume his way. "What?"

"A power nap." Before he could stop himself he was setting down his drink and taking her bag off her shoulder. "Thirty minutes, and you'll feel great."

"Max—"

"You need to be alert and focused, and I don't have a Monster for you to drink. Please, I insist." He motioned to his bed in the far corner, gently nudging her shoulder when she hesitated.

"You're sure?" she asked softly, and when he assured her he was she bent to take off her shoes, looking almost elated as she walked over to the bed. "Wait, I need to set an alarm."

"I'll wake you."

She lifted an eyebrow and he pulled out his phone to set a thirty minute timer. Satisfied, she sat on the edge of the bed, thanking him several times as she laid down and curled up on her side. "Thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes," he murmured, sitting on the couch to answer emails. It was fifteen minutes before she stopped shifting and kicking, and when he heard her breathing even out he knew she was asleep. Resetting the timer, he stood and carefully pulled the blanket over her, then returned to the couch and tried his best to ignore that she was sleeping in his room.

Her phone started buzzing on the table. She didn't stir so he ignored it, focusing on his email. That was impossible though so he cleared out his unread texts, one foot bouncing each time he heard her breathe. A mistake. It had been a mistake. He jumped up when her phone began to buzz again and, glancing from it to her, he realized she would undoubtedly sleep through it. He picked it up and was about to silence it when he saw the name on the screen. Ellie. That was her friend that was helping with Kevin… Something could be wrong, so he answered the call and lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, we just— Who's this?"

"Max. This is Ellie?"

"…Yes…" The woman sounded wary. "Why are you – Oh! Max! Right of course. Um, is y/n okay?"

Max looked over at her, smiling faintly when she shifted. "She's fine. Taking a nap, actually."

Ellie snorted. "Of course she is."

"Is everything okay with Kevin?"

As though aware of the question, Kevin began chattering in the background. "Yeah, he's perfect. I was calling to let her know we just got here but I ain't got a clue where to go."

"Are you at the main entrance?" he asked, slipping out of the room so he wouldn't wake y/n. Ellie told him where they were and he nodded as he pulled out his own phone to text one of the team assistants. "You're going to walk down to the turnstiles, scan your passes and come through. Someone will be there to meet you and bring you to the motorhome."

"Ok perfect. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome. We'll be downstairs to meet you." Ending the call, he checked that the assistant was going to meet them then reentered his room. He closed the door and silenced his timer. "Y/n?"

She hummed in her sleep, and he smiled while he crossed over to the bed.

"Y/n," he called gently. She groaned, shifting to face away from him and it suddenly occurred to him that when he went to bed that night he would smell her on the pillow and the sheets. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea, but it was too late now.

Would he be an asshole if he had his sheets changed before the end of the day?

Leaning down, he gently touched her shoulder. She inhaled sharply and he saw her eyes snap open. "You have company on its way," he said softly, tugging the covers back in case she tried to get comfortable again. His eyes swept down, locking on the skin bared by her shirt, which had ridden up in her sleep. "Come on, you had a nice nap, time to wake up."

"This bed is so much more comfortable than the one at the hotel," she mumbled, slowly sitting up and turning to face him. Smoothing down her shirt, she stretched and sighed, blinking as she focused on him. "Oh! Ellie and Kevin!"

He laughed as she leapt to her feet, his hands immediately moving to steady her. "It's fine, they haven't even made it to the paddock yet. I've sent someone to meet them."

"Oh," she murmured. "Thank you."

His hands were on her hips, and he forced his breathing to remain calm as she rested her hands on his forearms. The space, which had felt roomy and open, now felt tiny with how close she was to him. He was painfully aware of the scant space between them and each place their bodies touched, but more so of her. That heady floral scent of her perfume and the softness of her palms against his skin. The gentle lushness of her hips. He could hear every breath as his gaze traveled up from her hands to her face, lingering on her slightly parted lips before settling on her eyes. "You good?"

"Yep."

"Right. Sorry," he mumbled, releasing her hips and taking a step back. "I'll get your shoes."

What was wrong with him? It hadn't been so long that he got turned on like a teenager just from touching a woman… As he bent to retrieve her shoes he counted back, dragging a hand over his face in humiliation. What must she think of him? He'd brought her to his room, showed off his fancy toys, then let her sleep in his bed. She probably thought he wanted to fuck her—

You do.

—which couldn't be further from the truth. He was just being nice. Because she was nice. That was all.

Wasn't it?

And why, he wondered as he handed her shoes to her and told her about answering Ellie's call, did he care what she thought? Not caring was his specialty.  

"How do you feel?" he asked, finishing his drink in one gulp.

"Refreshed. Thank you so much, Max." She tied her shoes and ran her fingers through her hair. Her lips moved but he didn't hear a word she said, watching her gather her hair and twist and twirl it, securing it with a band from her wrist.

Witchcraft.

"That okay with you?" she asked, slipping her phone into her pocket.

"Of course," he answered automatically.

She clapped her hands together. "Great! I'll put up a post asking for fan questions."

Max blinked, pinching his brows together. "Fan questions."

"Well we can't do an impromptu Q and A without questions." She had her other phone out now, fingers flying across the screen. "We'll do it this afternoon? Just let me know the best time."

Fuck's sake. What had he agreed to? More importantly, how had she gotten him to say yes? Everyone knew he had a low tolerance for marketing. He could take it back and say no, he couldn't do it today. He could tell her to get Checo to do it, that he would do it another time. He'd gotten out of marketing and social media stupidity without a problem plenty of times before. But he was already opening his calendar, going over his schedule, already telling her the open slot he had at 5, and was already putting Q and A with Y/n in that space.

"Perfect," she enthused, shouldering her bag and heading for the door, her fingers still tapping swiftly on the screen. "They should be here about now, right?"

Nodding, he followed her out the room and down, smiling when Kevin came through the front door with a woman he assumed was Ellie. The boy dropped her hand and sprinted over to y/n, who dropped down to hug him tightly. Max looked on, chest squeezing, searching for something that had been lacking, as mother and son talked and hugged, their words overlapping. They both understood each other perfectly, though, and he smiled at Kevin's excited retelling of what he'd had for breakfast. Introducing himself to Ellie, he reached to shake her hand.

"Mister Max!" The boy squealed.

"Kevin!" He was down in a split second, Ellie forgotten and chest constricting tighter as Kevin hugged him like a long lost friend.

"I saw two cats and a horse!" Kevin tugged at his shirt, grinning as he showed off his Red Bull merch.

"You did? What kind of cats?" he asked, taking the boy's cap and beginning to roll the brim for him while the boy described the cats and then the horse. Returning the cap, he enthused over animals, telling him about his own two cats and pulling out his phone to show him a few pictures.

"I miss Cotton," Kevin said with a small pout.

"Is that your cat?" Max saw his trainer approaching and gave him a quick nod.

"Yeah. We can't bring him to Eng-a-lund so Aunt Ellie's sister has him." Kevin's pout melted into a faint smile. "But she sends lots of pictures!"

"That's good. And maybe you'll be able to get him soon."

"Mama says it's s'pensive." The boy sighed as though he had to earn the money to bring his beloved cat to England.

"I know," Max sympathized. "Go with your mum, yeah? I've got to go train."

Kevin's face puckered in confusion. "Train? Like Shang?"

Y/n cleared her throat. "We watched Mulan on the flight last night."

"What did Shang do?" Max vaguely remembered the movie, but it had been years since he'd seen it.

"He made a man out of 'em."

"Okay, doodle bug, we have to let Max get his workout in," y/n said, flashing Max a smile. "If you ask another question he'll start singing the song."

Max stared at her then turned his attention back to Kevin. "What song?"

Because he had to. Because hearing her groan as her son began singing a song about being a man was priceless. And the dramatic way she hung her head when Ellie joined in made him laugh. Kevin giggled, cutting off his singing and looking at Max hopefully. "Will you watch it with me?"

"I—"

"Mister Max is too busy to watch a movie," y/n cut in.

"We'll watch it this weekend," Max promised, hating the sadness in the boy's eyes. Relieved when it disappeared in a flash, he gave him a high five and stood.

"Yay!"

He exchanged a look with y/n, who sighed and nodded, reaching for Kevin's hand. "I'll see you later," he said.

"5 o'clock," she reminded him as he headed out.

*-*

"So…"

Y/n groaned at Ellie's knowing tone. Watching as Kevin was snatched up by Lando so he wasn't crashed into by Charles in the impromptu game of football, she folded her arms over her chest. "So?"

"He had coffee with you."

God, here we go.

"Showed you his private room and his expensive computer setup… Let you take a nap in his bed—"

"He's just being nice," y/n insisted.

"And he's gonna take time out of his ridiculously busy weekend to watch a movie with Kevin." Ellie hummed, taking a sip of her tea.

Ignoring her, y/n looked on as Lando, Oscar, and Logan pretended to fight back the others while Kevin kicked the ball towards the goal. They were all shouting, dramatic and over the top, and above it all she heard the sweetest sound of her son's laughter. When the ball rolled into the net there was a roar that rivaled a championship game, and she joined in the cheering and applauding.

"You could do worse," Ellie murmured.

"Would you stop?" Y/n rolled her eyes, giving Logan a thumbs up when he gestured to the football and Kevin, understanding they wanted to have another quick game.

"He's cute."

"They all are," y/n muttered without thinking, lifting her camera for a few photos for her personal collection. Recognizing Checo when he suddenly appeared in the viewfinder, she snapped more photos, lowering the camera to watch.

"You know—"

"I can't wait for you to start your job so I can come and try to partner you up with a coworker," she huffed, snorting when Ellie gasped.

"You wouldn't."

"In a heartbeat."

"Besides, there's only one person in that group that's technically your coworker," Ellie said.

"I'm not here for that."

"I know." Ellie leaned against her briefly. "Wouldn't be me if I didn't encourage a delusion, though."

"Yeah…" Y/n laughed softly. "It's my first day, of course everyone's already in love with me."

"Exactly."

It was what she loved about Ellie. No matter what, she could make her laugh. Grinning, she watched Kevin bump into Oscar, who immediately collapsed with an exaggerated howl of pain, holding the leg that Kevin hadn't touched. "And they're all so good with kids."

"Total dad material, every one of them," Ellie agreed. "Not a stepdad, a dad who stepped up."

She choked on a laugh, playfully swatting her friend's arm. Because she knew Logan had overheard them. "Stop—"

"And probably more than willing to crack your back—"

"Oh my god." Clapping a hand over her face, she sensed someone approaching. "I have to work with these people."

"Only until they fuck a baby into you."

"Hey, y/n, your kid's so cool," Logan said.

Her face burned but she slowly pulled her hand away, giving him a weak smile. "Thanks."

He propped his hands on his waist, breathing heavy as he watched Kevin dart between Lando, Oscar, Checo, and Alex. "He always this energetic?"

"Fify-fifty. He's either like this or so quiet I worry he's up to something."

Logan chuckled. "Is he a troublemaker?"

"Nah, if he's quiet it's because he's focused on his cars or studying a bug."

"Christ! Get it away from me!"

Y/n's heart lurched at the sudden shriek from Lando, and she barely saw him sprinting away from her son, who was holding something in his hands.

"It's a frog, mate!" Oscar shouted behind him.

"Don't care!"

Kevin slowly walked over to y/n. "Mama, look!" he said, eyes shining with excitement. His cheeks were a little flushed from the hard play and he was giggling. "Mister Lando scared of a l'il frog."

"He's just not a country boy like you, honey," she soothed. "But maybe we should put the frog somewhere he'll be safe?"

"C'mon, Kev, I'll help you," Logan offered.

"Hmm," Ellie hummed once Logan had scooped Kevin up, cupping one hand over the boy's to keep the frog from jumping away.

"Shut it."

"I didn't say a word."

"Please, that hmm contained at least two paragraphs, ten innuendoes, and a pointed reference," y/n said, trailing behind Logan. Looking on as he set Kevin down near the tree line, she got a few pictures of them releasing the frog. She cringed when her son wiped his dirty hands on his shorts but Logan didn't seem to mind, lifting him up and carrying him back to her.

"He's free!" Kevin squealed. "Thanks, Mister Logan."

"Anytime, Kev." He tousled his curly hair after setting him down, flashing a shy smile at y/n.

She returned the smile, eyes following Kevin as he ran back to the game. "He's gonna pass out as soon as we get back to the hotel."

"He could probably run circles around all of us all night," Logan chuckled.

"True…"

"So like…" He cleared his throat. "Are you married?"

God, she loved Floridians. "No," she answered, turning to look at him. "Are you?"

"God no." He made a face at the thought. "So you're single?"

She nodded, already formulating how she would turn him down if he asked her out. She was too busy. Not interested in anything romantic at the moment. It never hurt to be honest, right? She couldn't lie and say she just had a messy breakup or—

"Would you be interested in – I'm not trying to hook up or anything," he said quickly when she opened her mouth. "Just, like, as a friend? I know how it is to feel like a fish out of water here. I'm kind of used to it but I can remember feeling like I was alone and surrounded by people who didn't understand my Americanisms."

"Oh." Aw. Damn it, she couldn't say no to that. "I… Yeah, sure, I'd like that."

He smiled. "Awesome. Maybe we can do something tomorrow after practice?" he suggested.

"Sure, sounds great. Text me?" she requested. Her phone alarm started going off and she pulled it out to silence it. "I gotta go. I'll see you later."

She waved to Ellie and mimed that she had to get some work done, waiting for her friend to wave back before making her way to the garage. While walking she got a message from one of the mechanics that the cars were photo ready and quickened her pace, envisioning the photos she would get of the mechanics and engineers. As she worked she asked questions, truly interested in what everyone did, a small idea forming that she'd run by Mr. Horner later. She knew that she would enjoy mini profiles on the team, with just the most basic of information like their names and where they were from. Maybe how long they'd been on the team, what had brought them to formula one…

"Thanks so much guys," she said as she finished up, declining the offer of a cold Red Bull. Her alarm went off again – twenty minutes to get ready to meet Max in the lounge back at the motorhome – and she switched off the camera, waving bye and turning to leave the garage.

She slammed into a human wall, grunting in surprise as she stumbled back. Twice in one day, really? The bump had caused the camera to slam against her ribs and she rubbed the spot gently. "I'm sorry! Wasn't looking where I was going."

She expected a chuckle, a reassurance that it was a hazard of the job. Maybe even an apology in return. Instead, the older man sneered at her, looking her up and down in such a way she felt like a child caught misbehaving. "You need to learn your place."

She gulped, fear prickling through her embarrassment. And even though she knew she hadn't done anything wrong, she found her mouth opening to apologize. "S-sorry."

"Horner know better than to hire amateurs," he muttered, scoffing. "He obviously didn't hire you for your looks."

She bristled at that. "I beg your pardon?"

"As you should." He brushed past her.

She felt weak. Clammy and cold. Shuddering slightly, she swallowed hard and left the garage, heading straight for the motorhome, where she was able to catch her breath. Who the hell had that been? He'd been wearing a Red Bull pass, so he had to be on the team. He was obviously important. She couldn't imagine him being considered her boss, not when everyone else had been so nice and—

"Ah, y/n, are you ready to do the Q and A?" Max asked.

Y/n felt her lungs burn and sucked in a breath, staring at the cup of coffee she'd made herself. "Y-yeah, I'll meet you up on the deck?"

Please go up, please go up, please go—

"What's wrong?"

Goddammit.

"Y/n?" He looked and sounded concerned, and she ducked her head as he walked over. "Hey…"

"I'm fine," she lied.

"You're a terrible liar," he said, leaning against the counter. "What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm just overreacting." Rubbing her hand over her face, she shook her head and reached for the coffee. "Just a run-in with an asshole."

"But I haven't seen you in three hours." Max's lips barely twitched at the corner.

"Not you, a different asshole." She felt her cheeks burn and groaned. "I'm not saying you're an asshole!"

"You don't have to, I already know I can be an asshole at times." Folding his arms over his chest, he met her eyes. "Who was it?"

"That's the thing, I don't even know. I was coming out of the garage – You know, I went down to get pics of the mechanics? Anyway, I was about to text you about the Q and A and wasn't looking where I was going and bumped into him."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Older, kinda tall? Sour faced." She raised a hand to the man's approximate height. "I apologized and he told me I need to learn my place, then said I was an amateur and Horner obviously didn't hire me for my looks – I didn't ask his name because I was in shock. All I know is he had a Red Bull pass."

Max's brow furrowed, and she felt him tense. Then, to her surprise, he described the man perfectly.

"Yeah, that's him." She bit her lip. "You know him?"

"Unfortunately," he muttered. "It's my dad."

"Oh." Y/n looked down at her coffee. "Sorry."

"Me too." He sighed, pushing away from the counter. "Don't listen to him, yeah? You have more right to be here than he does, and you're not an amateur. As much as I hate social media, even I can tell that you're excellent at your job."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I just… I've spent my entire adult life working to improve myself and discover my own worth as a human being, and I can give other women empowering pep talks, but I still freeze when a man that thinks he's better than me talks down to me."

"Fuck him," Max said simply. "He's not your boss, he can't control anything you do in your life."

"Either you're really trying to make me feel better or you really don't like your dad," she murmured. When he didn't reply, she slowly lifted her gaze. Seeing the muscle in his jaw twitch, she felt a pang of sympathy. If the man had been that rude to her, a stranger, she couldn't begin to imagine what he'd been like to his own son.

"If he speaks to you like that again, you let me know."

"I don't want to cause a fuss—"

"Not wanting to cause a fuss is why he thinks he can get away with it," Max pointed out. "I'll speak to Christian—"

"Max, no, it's literally my first week!"

"Which is why you have to set boundaries now. He'll either treat you with the respect you deserve or he'll be banned from the paddock."

Y/n blinked in shock. "You'd have him banned?"

"In a heartbeat." The look on his face told her he was serious, from the determined set of his jaw to the way he kept his eyes level with hers. "So either you mention it to Christian in the team meeting or I will."

"God," she groaned, knowing that this had to be just one tiny item among a long list of infractions for Max to want him banned. "Okay. I'll tell him before the team meeting tomorrow."

"Good. Come, let's do the Q and A. You ready?" he asked, taking her empty cup and throwing it away.

"Yeah." Grateful for the distraction, she walked to the stairs with him. "I did a clip of you looking confused and posted it on TikTok and Instagram that went viral because I captioned it When You Ask Max Verstappen About Anything But Racing. Oh and I found out Tumblr fans love making gifs of you laughing. Twitter likes making memes out of your face. Whereas Facebook is mostly a bunch of boomers commenting about how I'm ruining the integrity of the sport."

"I really do hate social media," he snorted.

"And that is why I'm doing social media," she teased. Halfway up the stairs, she slowed, turning to look at him. "Thank you, Max."

"For hating social media? You're welcome."

taglist

@spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris

[quartz-kilsviken]

Written in the Runes

Chapter 1

➸ Synopsis: Ekko, your mischievous yet endearing local troublemaker, trails a wealthy academy student from the topside. When you end up with the student’s satchel, you find a notebook filled with intriguing magical research. Unable to resist, you embark on a quest to uncover the secrets of this mysterious scholar.

➸ pairing: jayvik x reader

➸ word count: 3,649

➸ tags: Slow Burn, yearning, eventual smut, not canon compliant

➸ notes: This is going to be an eventual Jayce/Viktor/Reader romance. I want a boyfriend and I want my boyfriend to have a boyfriend. The goal is for this to be an incredibly slow burn. Timeline might differ slightly to the show, and I’m making shit up as I go. I don’t understand LOL lore or magic, nor do I want to. You can also find me on AO3 Quarts_Kilsviken :)

➸ Next Chapter Link- Pt.2

For centuries, art has served as a means to capture moments otherwise lost to time. It functions as a time capsule, preserving not only events but the emotions felt by the artist. Families fleeing war, yet pausing long enough to capture the image of a single flower—the delicate curve of its petals, the vivid color stark against an ash-covered ground. A mother, imparting forgotten magic beneath the soft glow of firelight, a pale blue shimmer in the child’s wide eyes. Runes etched into the dirt, knowing they can be erased in an instant. These fragments call to you, urging you to remember moments you’ve never known. Moments your mother never had the chance to share with you.

As your pencil glides across the thin paper, you wonder if, one day, someone will look back at your captured moments. Will they find meaning in the images of waves crashing against the dock and sense the longing that fills them? You doubt it. The flimsy paper will likely disintegrate into dust within a few years. Still, you continue—perched atop a warehouse roof, waiting for the familiar ship to arrive. These moments are yours, the sunrise painting colors across your pages unseen in your home.

With a long stretch, you stuff your sketchbook into your bag and begin the familiar descent down the side of the building. The cool breeze from the water seeps deeper into your jacket as you approach the ship. After a minute of waiting, the cold settles into your bones and you decide it’s far too frigid to remain outside any longer. Avoiding the eyes of the workers, you slip up the ship's ramp, hurrying down into the cabin.

“Got anything good today, Khal?” you call out, trying to suppress a wince as you hear the loud thump and the string of curses that follow. The yordle emerges from behind a stack of crates, rubbing the top of his head.

“Ah, damn it, I told you to stop coming in here. Couldn’t you wait another five minutes?” Khal mutters, continuing to gather various items from the crates, placing them carefully into a large black bag.

“I’m doing you a favor, really. Now you won’t have to make the trip outside. It’s windy today, Khal—you might get blown away,” you tease. He glares up at you, unamused by your joke as you stand over the bag. Realizing he has what you want, you try to smooth things over with your most innocent smile. “Seriously, you don’t have to thank me for going the extra mile. But if you do—”

“Sorry, kid, no magic stuff today.” He shakes his head, zipping the bag shut with a snap. “They’ve been cracking down at the borders. Rumors of a new drug shipment coming to the docks are making it impossible to get anything in.” Khal sighs, sensing your disappointment, though it’s clear he’s frustrated with the situation as well. “Look, I managed to get some paint from Noxus for you and the kid. I know it’s not what you were hoping for, but—”

You cut him off with a tight hug, leaning down to wrap your arms around the furry little man. Though he doesn’t return it, when you pull away, you spot the faintest tug at the corner of his mouth, trying to suppress a smile. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Now get out of here before the enforcers start their rounds.” You grab the bag, tossing it over your shoulder. With a quick farewell, you make your way away from the water.

As you enter the Lanes, the cool breeze morphs into warm, acrid smog. Your feet instinctively know the route home, staying in the shadows so no one catches sight of the bag hanging from your back. You push through the door of the familiar shop, relieved to unload the weight of the bag. Benzo looks up at you from behind the counter as you make your way over. With a grunt, you hoist the bag onto the table,

“You know, Benzo, I should get hazard pay for this. My back’s gonna be shot by the time I’m thirty, I swear. Should start saving for an early retirement,” you joke.

“You’re already robbing me blind with what I pay you, little lady. Anyone give you trouble on your way back?” Benzo peers at you over the rim of his glasses.

“Nah, not today,” you say, hopping over the counter and tossing a few items onto the shelves. “With all these new trade precautions, I bet most people don’t think it’s worth the hassle anymore.” You wrinkle your nose at a rusty pocket watch, trying to decide if it’s even worth trying to sell. Benzo sighs and settles back in his chair, apparently leaving the rest to you. You continue sorting through the shelves, but something’s off. No, scratch that—a lot is off. You stop mid-motion, eyes darting to the now-empty display. “Were we robbed?”

It takes him a second to figure out where you’re looking, and when he does, he chuckles, clearly unbothered. “Nah, some academy kid cleared out the display a couple hours ago. Ekko made a killing off him.” You knew you’d never have enough to buy even one of the items, but it still stings to know they’re gone.

“What would an academy kid even want with magic artifacts?” You bite the words out, too sharp, too bitter. You immediately try to reel it back. “He probably doesn’t even know what he’s got—just hoarding them to show off to his rich friends.”

Benzo shrugs like he’s heard it all before. “You know the drill. We don’t question customers.” He takes a beat, then adds, “But if it helps, the kid seemed pretty knowledgeable.” That makes you feel a little better, though not enough to erase the empty, hollow feeling in your chest. The case sits vacant, mocking you.

Suddenly, the door slams open with a crash, followed by a flash of white hair as the little whirlwind zips across the room. Before you can even react, the kid darts through the back door like he’s on a mission.

You can’t help it—you burst out laughing at the sight of Benzo, stone-faced, staring after the boy. With a quick swipe of your hand, you snatch the paint from the now empty bag, slip through the door, and head after him. Listening carefully, you figure he’s made it down the stairs to his room. You knock softly before poking your head inside. Ekko’s in the process of shoving something under his bed, looking incredibly guilty. When he sees you, his face lights up with a giant smile. The kid’s clever, but not great at hiding things.

“I’ve got something for you, little man,” you say, leaning against the bed. You wave the paint palette in front of his face, teasing him, but snatch it away before he can grab it. “If you want it, you’re gonna have to tell me what’s under there.”

Ekko starts pacing, looking like he’s weighing his options, then stops, squints at you, and says, “You have to promise you won’t tell Benzo.”

You put on a mock-serious face, tapping your chin. “Depends. Did you kidnap someone? ‘Cause I’m not sure I wanna be an accomplice to kidnapping.”

“No,” Ekko says, a little too quickly, his eyes darting nervously under the bed.

“Fraud?”

“No.”

“Murder?”

“No.”

You chuckle and shake your head, finally giving in. “Fine. I won’t tell Benzo.”

Ekko resumes his pacing, looking oddly pleased with himself. “Okay, so this guy comes in earlier today. Buys a bunch of fancy stuff—the kind we usually keep behind glass. He’s got a ton of money, I’m talking a lot.” He pauses, grinning. “Obviously, I charged him double.” He snickers to himself, then continues. “Anyway, I was curious, so I followed him.”

You shouldn’t have been surprised, but somehow, you still are. You stare at him, rubbing your forehead. “Ekko, really? Benzo said he’s an academy student. You followed him all the way topside?”

Ekko avoids your eyes, and you already know the answer. “Ekko.”

“No one saw me, I swear!” He glances back at the bed, stalling. After a deep breath, he adds, “Okay, so the guy put his bag down to grab his keys, then went inside—probably too distracted with the rest of his stuff to remember he left it behind.”

You gasp. Without thinking, you dive under the bed and, sure enough, pull out a satchel. You immediately regret your earlier promise. “Ekko, what if there’s something valuable in here? If he gets enforcers involved and this is going to be the first place they look.”

Ekko waves a hand dismissively. “Come on. Think about it. He came in for a bunch of illegal stuff. He’s not going to risk it. Plus, he’s loaded. Whatever’s in that bag, he can buy it again.”

You look at the satchel again, hesitating for a moment. Then, curiosity wins out. You pat the floor next to you, and Ekko eagerly plops down beside you. You pop open the bag and dump its contents onto the floor in one smooth motion. Ekko dives into the mess with excitement, while you start inspecting the items. It’s a mess—books, pens, random junk. Exactly what you’d expect from an academy student.

Ekko picks up a wallet and flips through it before remembering that he already cleaned out the guy’s coin. Losing interest, he starts to toss it aside, but you snatch it up before he can. It’s plain, brown leather with neat stitching—nothing special, but maybe it’s worth a little something. As you dig inside, your fingers catch on a student ID card. It’s scratched up but still in decent condition. You flip it over, and a pair of big eyes stare back at you. The blurry picture shows a young man, maybe in his early twenties, with a wide, gap-toothed grin. Handsome, you think, not at all who I imagined. You slide the card back into place and shove the wallet into your jacket pocket.

Ekko’s rummaging through the rest of the bag, clearly unimpressed by the contents. You laugh at the face he’s making and, still grinning, grab the paint you’d dropped earlier. “Khal said these are from Noxus. Definitely worth a lot. So, don’t let Mylo use them to paint middle fingers on Jericho’s stall.”

Ekko snickers, jumping up to stow the paint away, tossing the pens he grabbed from the bag into a drawer with a careless flick. He starts cramming the rest of the bag’s contents back in, and you look over at him, an eyebrow raised. “Do you mind if I, uh, borrow your stolen bag?”

Without missing a beat, Ekko flashes you a sly grin. “Sure, but just so you know, that officially makes you an accomplice now.”

You can’t help but laugh as you leave Ekko’s room and wander down the hall. By the time you collapse on your bed, the exhaustion hits you like a wave. Dock runs only happen once a month, but they require staying up all night—leaving right after sunset and staying until the ship docks at sunrise. It used to be so much easier—endless nights that never seemed to take a toll. But now, as your joints creak and protest, you feel like a 23-year-old who’s already past their prime. You glance down at the satchel, chewing the inside of your cheek. You’ve already gone through it—hell, you dumped its contents all over Ekko’s floor. So why the sudden wave of guilt?

You decide to be more careful this time, taking things out slowly. The first item is a crumpled piece of paper, which turns out to be a grocery list. You set it aside with a sigh and reach for the next thing: a hardcover book, dark blue canvas, its corners fraying with age. The moment you touch it, you can tell it’s old—the scent of it, the brown tint of the pages. The text is foreign, some language you can’t quite place. Maybe it’s from overseas? Curiosity gnaws at you, but you set the book aside and move to the next.

This one catches your attention immediately. The cover’s worn, but it’s the script inside that makes your heart beat a little faster. You flip through the pages and realize it’s a grimoire. Runes cover every inch, some familiar, others completely alien. How did he get his hands on this? Sure, he’s rich, but something so detailed, so rare? There’s no way it would’ve come from Piltover. The heat of anger burns through you, a deep, familiar ache that’s almost like grief. He’s carrying around a book that details the same magic your family nearly died for. But is it really just anger? No, it’s something else. The pages seem to hum, drawing you in, much like your mother’s paintings once did—pulling you toward something. Your past? No… not this time. It’s something else entirely.

Finally, you pull out the last book from the satchel. It feels heavier, like it’s carrying something more than just weight. You run your fingers over the hammer etched into the cover, studying its details before opening it. Inside, it’s filled with messy notes and diagrams, all jumbled but with a clear purpose. This is it—this is what he’s been working on. He’s trying to harness magic.

Though your body is screaming for rest, you can’t bring yourself to put the book down. When you finally glance at the clock, it’s already 5 AM, but you’re still lost in the pages. You’re hooked—caught in the madness of it all. It’s brilliant. Insane. Revolutionary. And completely, utterly terrifying. His scrawl is all over every page, his signature tucked into the corner of each one. Even though this is clearly just one of many notebooks—a fraction of his larger body of work—it all makes perfect sense. Harnessing arcane energy through crystals. Capturing raw, chaotic magic and transforming it into a usable, practical source.

It’s clear he knows what he’s doing, but there’s something missing in his understanding of the arcane itself. His notes drip with frustration, especially where he’s tried to decode the runes—almost every page filled with scribbles, crossed-out lines, and half-baked theories. It’s as if he’s so close, yet there’s a final piece that eludes him.

And then it hits you. You might be that missing piece.

You’re no scholar, and you certainly aren’t a genius, but you know more than most when it comes to the arcane. You’ve lived it, felt it, and you can see the gaps in his research—things that could be the key to unlocking it all. Maybe you could help him. You feel the weight of the possibility, the urgency of his discovery. It’s world-changing. The visions he’s drawn out on each page show the immense potential for how this technology could revolutionize not just Piltover, but the Undercity, too. His research could bridge the gap between the two worlds, completely reshaping everything in its wake.

But as the minutes slip by and your eyelids grow heavier, you realize your body can no longer keep up with your racing thoughts. The words on the page blur into one long stream, and before you know it, your head tilts to the side. Your hand slips from the notebook as sleep finally pulls you under, the weight of your thoughts fading into the quiet dark.

You’re stirred awake by a quiet knock on your door. “You dead in there?” Benzo’s voice filters through, soft but insistent. As your mind clears, you realize your bed is strewn with the contents of the stolen satchel. Panic flickers for a moment before you shove the books back into the bag, tossing it under the bed just as he softly cracks the door open. Benzo stands in the doorway, glancing over you with a raised brow.

“You look like death,” he says with a tired chuckle. “How long you been sleeping?”

“Uh...” You glance at the clock. It’s already 6 PM. You wince. “About thirteen hours.”

He rubs his temples, sighing. “Get cleaned up, then come watch the shop for a while. I’ve gotta head out with Vander.” The fatigue is clear in his face, the lines around his eyes deepening.

“What happened? Is he okay?” You start picking out clothes, your movements automatic as the weight of the situation begins to settle in.

He exhales sharply, dropping down onto your bed with a heavy sigh. “Vander’s fine. But the kids... well, they’ve stirred up some serious trouble. You missed all the fun. Yesterday there was an explosion and a chase topside. And today? Enforcers barging in here looking for four kids. They tried to rob a rich academy topsider, but things went sideways. I heard the whole side of the building got blasted off, and now the Enforcers are crawling all over the Undercity.”

Your stomach drops. “Was anyone hurt?”

He glances at you, his expression softening. “No, thank the gods. But the building—turns out it was the Kirammans’ place. What was in there? I don’t even want to think about it.” His gaze sharpens. “The kids will be fine. Vander and I will handle it. But they need to lay low for a while. Knowing them, though, that’ll be a battle.”

You nod quietly, though the weight in your chest only grows heavier as he exits your room. After a quick shower, you find yourself behind the shop counter, brown cloak draped loosely around you, trying to mask the weight on your shoulder. The place is eerily still, save for the hum of your own racing thoughts. Your eyes stay fixed on the door as you wait, the uneasy silence pressing in.

When the door finally opens, it’s Ekko who walks in, looking surprised to see you behind the counter instead of Benzo. His usual brash energy is subdued, and he leans against the counter, avoiding your eyes.

“Bet you already heard what happened,” he mutters, picking at some invisible spot on the counter. “Vander’s really upset with us.”

The weight of his words hits harder than you expect. For all the bravado Ekko tries to show, you know how deeply he feels. You reach over, ruffling his hair, offering what little comfort you can. “Hey, little man, it’s gonna be okay. Everyone makes mistakes. I get why you did it. Vander and Benzo, they’ve made their own share of screw-ups, so they have plenty of experience fixing them.” Ekko gives a small, grateful smile at that. “Go get some sleep, alright? Things’ll cool down by tomorrow.”

Just as you finish speaking, the bell rings, and Benzo reappears, starting to lower the shutters. Before he locks the door, you move to slip out. “Get some rest, you two. I’m heading out for the night.”

Ekko gives you a tired wave as he heads for the back. Benzo, however, doesn’t take his eyes off you.

“You know,” he says, arms crossed, voice low, “I can’t stop you, but I’m still gonna tell you—it’s a bad idea. Enforcers are everywhere. There’s fighting on every corner.”

You both hold eye contact for a long beat, but he lets out a resigned sigh. “No arguing with you, is there? Go on, get out of here.” He opens the door for you, and you catch him off guard with a quick hug before slipping out into the night. His grumble follows you as the door clicks shut behind you.

The streets are a war zone. Enforcers litter every corner, and the air is thick with tension. You move through the Undercity carefully, staying in the shadows as much as you can, until you reach Piltover. There, it’s quieter, and for a moment, you feel a strange kind of relief.

There’s no sign of enforcers from atop the large buildings, but as you crouch to catch your breath, the sight in front of you makes your chest tighten. From this angle, calling it an explosion doesn’t even come close. The place looks like it’s been torn apart. A sinking feeling settles in your gut.

It makes sense the building looks abandoned now—who would stick around in a wreck like this? But then you realize it: you came here without a plan. What was your angle? Strut in, say you’ve got stolen research, and hope for the best? Ridiculous. Still, you’ve come this far. You suppose it wouldn’t hurt to get a bit closer.

With a deep breath, you sprint across the gap to the next rooftop, landing lightly and pausing to steady yourself. And there they are. Two figures, barely visible in the wreckage, illuminated only by the faint glow of a lamp. One is scribbling on a chalkboard, broad shoulders following the movements of his writing. The other holding a book in one hand and gripping a cane in the other, standing a step behind him. You squint, trying to make out the messy writing, but the shadows blur everything.

Just then, they turn—though you know they can’t possibly see you. Still, a chill runs down your spine, and you freeze, watching them move through a door, disappearing deeper into the building.

That’s when it hits you—the pull. The whispers, soft in the breeze. The tug in your chest. Every moment, every choice, has led to this. The memories flood back: your mother’s hands glowing with magic, her soft voice teaching you. Benzo, taking your hand as he led you from the ruins of your home, offering you a new place where you could rebuild, and with it, the hope that you could be more.

And now you’re here.

You feel the wind, the pull drawing you forward. Without thinking, you leap.

[tatzelbookwurm]

DPXDC Scum Villain Self-Saving System crossover prompt:

Dash Baxter's Self Saving System

Danny Phantom exists in the DC universe. . . as a TV show. Robin grew up watching Danny and identifies strongly with the young hero. It’s fun escapism! One night after patrol while ranting online about how stupid Phantom Planet is as a finale, how many dropped plot threads there are, how so much of the rich worldbuilding is just throwaway lines that are never explored again, Robin triggers the Transmigration System and gets isekai-ed into Amity Park. 

Now Robin is trapped in the role of Schoolyard Bully Dash Baxter and must fix the plot and avoid OOC behavior in order to return home.

Which Robin is it? I can see this going several ways: 1) Tim Drake: Already canonically a huge nerd and would absolutely hate being stuck in the role of mean dumb jock. Would manage to become best friends with the everlasting trio as soon as he got the OOC function turned off. Tucker would love geeking out with Tim over tech, and Sam would pick up on his gothic Bat vibes. He transmigrates because a combination of sleep deprivation, untreated injuries from vigilantism, compromised immune system from lack of spleen, and an unhealthy dose of caffeine cause him to keel over and die like Shen Yuan. With Dash’s natural athleticism and Tim’s ingenuity he could either cobble together or get his hands on some anti-ecto weaponry and become Hunter to Val’s Huntress. Would definitely trigger a whole new plotline around clones. Meanwhile back in Gotham Batman is going off the rails after a second Robin dies on his watch. 2) Jason: Gets isekai-ed during the explosion in Ethiopia. His revival is predicated on him completing the plot in Amity Park. UTRH is subverted by his quest to get back to Danny/bring Danny to Gotham. He's learned better coping strategies from Jazz. Sneaks into Fentonworks and steals a bunch of weapons immediately. Shoots Spectra in the face with the Fenton Bazooka the second she shows up. He'd love having Mr. Lancer for English. 3) Dick: Recently took up the mantle of Nightwing and broke away from Bruce. Does not enjoy being a teen again in high school (with normie parents! ugh!!). Actually doesn’t have a difficult time adjusting to Dash’s social life since he’s a natural leader and very charismatic, and unlike Dash isn't cruel and violent. Absolutely has a difficult time adjusting to Dash’s physique because it is *not bendy enough* and he keeps on pulling muscles. Returns to Gotham to discover Jason’s death and calls in a favor from Danny to find his brother’s wandering spirit. 4) Stephanie: Trans Dash Baxter with Stephanie’s personality actually sounds amazing. I think she’d still pursue Jazz like Dash did, but with a much higher rate of success. Not sure if it would be fair to drop someone as hot as a trans version of Stephanie in Amity though, she would become the main character and everyone would forget the ghost boy. 5) Damian: not sure where I’d go with this, but it could be fun. He’d probably stab Vlad, which I would enjoy. Might also stab Star and Paulina, which would get him nerfed by the System. Would probably first seek out Vlad to obtain weaponry comparable to Huntress' and manipulate him into believing they shared a common goal, then betray him at a key moment. He has lots of experience dealing with megalomaniacal rich men from his time with Ra's and the League. Would get on great with Dani. 5) Jarro: Please please please someone write this I have no idea how, but it would be hilarious and Jarro would be seriously weirded out by having a human body. Whether this is a ship or platonic relationship depends on the pairing I think.

[distorteddiamonds]

A large burly man stands before you, pelt on his shoulder and a large axe at his side. He seems irritated by your presence, almost on guard.

Will you introduce yourself??

The askbox is open!!!

[ledesaid]

Billy: Excuse me, sir! Do you know where the great ship-eating whirlwind of the north is!?

Random Sailor: What!?

Billy: Do you know how to get to the northern ship-eater!? I got lost in the storm!"

Random Sailor: What!?

Billy: Never mind! Thanks anyway!

Amidst a fierce storm, their silence makes sense. However, falling through a transdimensional rift linked to a third act? That's beyond comprehension.

After that, he met a guy named Sinbad with a great ship. This ancient world, with its bizarre tales of kings of the seven seas and magical weapons, feels surreal. Magical dungeons with hidden treasures?

The strangest part: everyone believes he's a Magi! A mage of creation who has immense power capable of creating dungeons or destroying countries… Okay, Billy could do that, he can do that, he doesn't plan to do it, but it’s curious that they know what he is capable of without him telling them. It takes a bit of the burden off his shoulders.

Yet, it seems Sinbad wants Billy to stay as Sindria's Magi permanently.

While looking for a way home, he can't help but admire him. He treats Billy as an equal, even without knowing about his big magical transformation.

However, Billy suspects the king is not too keen on helping him return.

Their quest to stop the marine disaster responsible for the typhoon hasn't been very successful.

Sinbad: Billy, any luck!?

Billy: No! The storm is very strong, and people are running for shelter!

Sinbad: We'll try again tomorrow! Let's return to the ship!

The storm that was battering the region only disappears when Billy manages to interact with the glowing butterflies called Rukh and stops the whirlwind causing the problem.

Obviously, they return to Sindria to celebrate. Sinbad's friends and the townspeople celebrate him in a way he knows won't happen at home. He decides to enjoy it.

The days turn into months, and they refine into years. The League takes ten years when they can finally come to rescue him.

Billy: Friends!

Superman: Captain!

Wonder Woman: Brother! Thank Athena you're in one piece. It took us a few weeks to find your location. We feared that something…

Flash: Buddy, you look younger, or is it my imagination?

Billy: Well… it's been a bit more than a week for me…

Superman: You can tell us at home. The portal won't last long.

The now twenty-year-old man looks back. It is not his childhood that frames his gaze; he left that place long ago. But he has waited for this moment for so long that... he already had some short-term plans in mind... He has lived ten years as Billy Batson and ten years as Billy the Fifth Magi.

Flash: Cap… how long has it been? Flash seems to understand Billy's dilemma a little.

"Ten years."

That makes everyone hug him. Billy cries with happiness.

Billy: I’ve helped this world a lot. I’ve met many countries… I’ve been the Magi of several of them. I feel like I’ve learned a lot. But despite having enjoyed it here so much… I don't forget my role as the champion of magic at home… let's go back.

The people of our dimension also have the right to their own Magi to protect them. I have many stories to tell you. There was a really cool guy named Sinbad, a boy named Alibaba who reminds me of myself, a little Magi named Aladdin, and this pink-haired girl like Jinx who was as strong as you, Diana.

But I'm happy they arrived now. If they had arrived seven years ago, they would have had to face Sinbad, the king of the seven seas.

-------

Hi!, I am participating in BILLY BATSON WEEK 2025! @marybatson

Day 1 | u are here | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5

[hidden-poet]

Outlaw: part 2

Summary: After nearly a year of mystery presents, your gift giver finally reveals himself to be none other then the outlaw Billy-the-kid.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, nonco/dunco, unhealthy behaviours, out of character, Dead dove do not eat.

Word count: 5772

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 coming soon

You woke to something tickling your neck. As you gain consciousness, you realise its the tickle of lips meeting skin. 

“Good morning, Mrs Bonney”, Billy drawls as you stir awake. 

You shoot up from the bedding, still in your dress from yesterday. 

Billy had changed, ready for the day. 

“Whoa, you’re alright. It’s just me”, Billy soothes. 

He rises up into a sitting position in the tent to match you. 

“Don’t touch me”. You order. 

“I am your husband, aint I? Aint a husband supposed to touch his wife?”

Your heart lurched at the word. Husband. You look at the man in front of you, was he really your husband? Would you be bound to him for as long as you live?

“Come on” Billy says softly, “lets get you fed”

He leaves the tent, and you crawl out after him to be met with a campfire and the smell of porridge. 

Billy pours the porridge into a bowl and holds it out for you. You take it without thanks over to a nearby log. 

It irritated you that he followed, sitting down next to you. You shuffle over, to allow room to breathe as you eat your porridge. 

“It’s 2 days of full riding until Montvile. I doubt he’ll still be there, but he won’t be too far gone”, Billy says. 

“Are we really married?”, you ask him, not the least bit interested in his quest. 

“Of course we are. You were there”, he responds, reaching out to touch your knee. 

You jerk it away from him, and he places his hands back in his lap. 

“The preacher could have been saying anything”

“Well, he was saying wedding vows”.

Billy gets up exasperated, placing his hands on his hips and slowly pacing. 

“Did you really not know?”, he asks you, “after all this time, did you not realise it was me?”

You pour your porridge on the ground with no appetite to eat it. 

“How would I have known? If i knew, I never would have-”, you stop yourself. You were miles from nowhere, with no one around to call on for help. 

“You never thought it suspicious when I left town, and returned there was a present at your door? When you first met me, what did you do? Apologise for your cold hands because you didn’t have any gloves”. 

You rub your bare hands together at his words. You had never thought of it. You didn’t notice when Billy left town.  You only remember apologising as he spoke now. 

Surely by now, your father would know you are missing. He would be searching right now. Soon to put two and two together and realise you were with Billy. 

“My father”, you began your threat but Billy brushed you off. 

“I don’t want to hear about your father”, he bites, “you belong to me now”.

He sighs deeply, running his hand over his lower mouth, before turning back to you with a faint smile. 

“I am sorry. Let’s not fight. It’s only our first day as a married couple, it’ll take some time getting use to”, Billy leans down to pick up your empty bowl from the ground, speaking to you once more as he rises,

“Are you finished? We should get a move on. We need all the daylight we can get”. 

You don’t answer him, just remain sitting on the log watching him pack up camp and saddle his horse. 

He finished quickly, having done it a million times before. 

“Well, Mrs Bonney,” he addressed, coming over to where you sat, he crouches down in front of you with your new hat in hand and places it on your head, “Shall we get going to montville?”.

His slim fingers do up the ribbon beneath your chin. His touch is gentle and slow. 

“I want to go home”, you tell him. 

“We don’t even know where home is yet”, his blue eyes burned into you. You had never seen him so close before. 

“Come on, baby”, he stands now, holding his hand out to you, “We’ve got to get going”. 

When you don’t move, he reaches down and yanks you up by your arm. 

“A good wife is supposed to do as her husband says”, he says as he leads you to his horse. 

“I aint your wife”, you reject. 

“Well, I am your husband”, he insisted. 

He helps you onto the horse, keeping the reins in his hand so you couldn’t take off on it. The horse is moved in a quick walking pace. The chattels it wore slightly clanged together over the terrain.

You were glad he gave you the hat as the hot sun blared down. It was going to be days of this until montvile. 

“I never said any vows. Never promised you anything”, you continued. 

“I don’t think that matters none. Hell, I’ve heard of people being married without even being in the room”

“How is that possible?” you ask him. You had never heard of anything as such. 

“They have a stand in. At least you were there”, he explained, “When we get to Montvile, I’ll see about buying you a ring. Might make it feel more official”. 

“I aint your wife, Billy”, you protest. It couldn’t be true. There would be some way to undo the marriage. Some annulment to be had. 

“Get your mind off it now”, he orders, “It’s just bride jitters. All women get them. It’ll pass”.

You lean forward out from the touch of his body, your hands grip the mane of his horse. 

“I am sorry, Billy”, you earnestly say. 

“What for?”, he asks.

“It’ll never pass. I’ll never be the wife you want”. You wondered how long his patience would last before he turned. All husbands were sweet to begin with. You didn’t want him as a husband so performing as a wife would be difficult. 

He moved his hands under you, the reins going to one hand while the other pulled your torso back against him.

“Hey now, where’s this coming from? I aint asking you to be more than you already are. I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t already love you”, his lips were at your ear, speaking in a gentle tone, “I told you, it’s just jitters. How about we play a game to cast your mind off it? Count how many birds you see’’. 

His hands go back to the reins as you lean into him, and look to the sky. 

You ride for miles without a word. You count 23 birds. The game worked to still your spinning head, but you began to become uncomfortable. Billy was used to riding long distances, but you only rode for pleasure. 

“You alright?” he asks as you shift in his arms. Your thighs burn, and your throat thirsts for water. 

Billy slows his horse, enough to reach down for his water can and bring it to your lips. You gulp the water down, pushing his hand away once you have had your fill. He drinks from it next before screwing the lid back on and placing it back in the side saddle. 

He brings an apple out in its place and hands it to you. You bite into it quickly, starving after only having a few bites of porridge. 

“Can we stop?”, you ask him. You wanted to get off this horse and stretch your legs. 

“We’re already a few days behind”, he says reluctantly, “We don’t want him to get too far ahead”. 

You sigh, taking another bite from the crunchy apple. 

“I am sorry”, he says, “Just a few more hours, and we’ll stop for the day”.

You keep the apple core to feed to his horse. It gets hot and sticky in your hand as the day stretches on.  By late afternoon, the heat had gone and a chill had breezed through. 

Billy finally stops under a big oak tree. He swings down first before reaching up to help you down. It was lucky he did. You found your legs were like jelly. Your inner thighs ached. 

“Here, sit down”, he ordered, trying to lead you to the tree. You reist, moving out from his hands to his horse. 

“No’, you tell him. You offer the apple core to the white horse who greedily takes it from your hand. 

You pat his nose while Billy unsaddles him. The horse was placid and well trained. You wondered how long Billy has had him for. 

“Here”, Billy said holding out a brush, “Brush him for me, would ya?”. 

You take it from his hand and brush the horse. Billy sets up the tent and the bedding inside before coming over to you and taking the horse away to longer, green grass. He takes the bit from the horses mouth, and with a pat leaves him to graze the grass. 

“How do you know he won’t wonder?”, you ask him. You alway thought horses had to be tied down. 

“He won’t. It’s you, I am worried about wondering”, he states, walking past you. 

“Where would I go?” you question. There was nothing around for miles. 

“Exactly. Lots of open space for you to get lost in. Easy to get turned around out here. You’d be lost before you even knew it”.

He searches his bag for food, pulling out his water bottle and some dried meat. 

“Here, have some more water”, he says, forcing the jug between your hands. 

You sip it slowly, as he lights lamps, setting them on the floor. 

He takes a seat next to you once he is done, and opens the bag with the dried meat offering it to you. 

“There’s a long stretch of nothing between Westfield and Montvile but it starts to fill in beyond that”, he explains. 

You accept the dried meat. Sharing the water and meat between yourselves. 

You wanted a bath to rid yourself of the horse smell but knew there would be no such luxury out here. 

“I’ve never been outside of Westfield before”, you admit. It felt wrong to be outside of the borders of your town. Another thing you would get in trouble by your father for, despite having no choice. 

Bill takes another bite of his meat before answering, ‘Aint nothing in Westfield. Plenty of better places, you’ll see a few”, he promises. 

“Why stay then? Why not move on?”, you ask him. If he had the courage to leave, you would be back in Westfield, safe in your bed. 

He looked at you like you were stupid. 

His answer was slow, and cautious, “I stay’d for you”.

His gaze seared you as it stuck. You could feel the cotton of his pants brush against your leg. He was too close. Too open with his affection. 

You got up quickly away from him, walking into the shadows of the night. There was nowhere to go but you felt you needed distance

He follows, taking your wrist into his hand and pulling you back towards him. 

“Hey, where are you going?”, he complains. His voice was no longer sweet and gentle but hard and angry. 

“Let go of me”, you command, tugging your hand away. 

“I am your husband now, y/n, you ought to start showing me some respect”, you demanded. 

“You’re nothing to me”, you spat. 

He raises his hand as if he was going to hit you but stops himself. You shrink back nevertheless. Your father never pulled punches, and you imagine as Billy progresses, he won’t either in the future. 

“Get in the tent”, he grits. He leads you with your wrist and pushes your back forward. 

He doesn’t follow you in the dark tent. His shadow casts from the light outside. He went back to sit at the base of the tree, he looked to be sitting with his face in his hands but you don’t peek from the tent to confirm. 

The night is quiet from that point on. His shadow shifts from the base of the tree and disappears. You think he has gone over to his horse. You wonder if he would leave you here. What would be worse? Being left here by yourself or going with him to Montville. 

He said it was easy to get lost here. Would you ever find your way home?

A silent relief floods you when Billy enters the tent with a lamp. 

“Hey”, he greets. 

He sets the lamp down in the centre, and begins to undo his vest buttons to sleep. 

“I am sorry about before”, he comments, not looking at you. 

You remain balled in the corner of the tent, watching him. 

“Have you eaten enough? Did you want any more water?”, he quickly changes topics. 

“No, thank you”, you respond politely. 

“You don’t have to stay so far away. I won’t hurt you. Come to the center”, he nods. 

“Thank you, sir but I would rather stay here”, you respond. 

“Sir?”, he scoffs. He throws his vest to the side, moving on to riding his straps from his shoulder.

He sighs deeply, moving on to unbutton his shirt. 

“We should sleep”, he says, “Get an early start tomorrow”. 

You don’t respond, remaining in a ball in the corner.

“Do you need help with your dress?”. 

You remain silent still, this all seemed too unreal to be happening. 

He shuffles forward on his knees, his hands reaching out for your dress.

“Dont come any closer!”, you yell at him. He halts his movements all together, turning his hands  out flat in front of you.

“You were too tired last night, but you can’t sleep in your dress. It’ll be uncomfortable”, he says. 

“I’ll decide what I sleep in”, you return.

“Y/n, I am not going to bed you on the floor in the middle of nowhere”, he promised, “You’re safe”. 

He moved backwards slowly over to the bedding where he cautiously peeled back the blanket and slid his body under it. 

“Sleep with the dress on”, he relents, “Just sleep. Come on”, he beckons. 

The other side of the blanket is flipped, inviting you in. 

The tent was cold, and he was right, your dress was uncomfortable, smelling of the day you just had. 

Without your cooperation the dress would be a bastard to get off. It would give you time to get away. Although, being lost out there held no charm either. 

You crawl over to the blanket, as soon as you lay down, it is tossed over you. Your body ached from riding, and your eyes were heavy with sleep. 

An arm goes under your pillow, and his hand brushes back your hair over your ear. 

“How many birds did you see today?”, he asks. 

“Thirty-six”, you answer honestly. 

He lets out a low whistle, “You know I once saw one hundred and three birds one trip”.

His hand continued to brush over the side of your head. It was oddly comforting, despite the situation. 

Your eyes shut with sleep, you find yourself unable to open them back up.

“The ride won’t be so hard tomorrow. We covered a lot of ground today. We’ll be in Montvile soon, and I’ll give you a real honeymoon. Buy a ring for your finger. We’ll be like a real married couple”. 

You swallow hard. If you weren’t so tired you would have fought with him some more, but sleep called out to you and your body answered. 

“I do wish you would take off this dress”, he complains. You feel his hands touch the back of your corset and you shoot up away from him. 

He catches you in his arms, holding you tightly to his chest as your frail. 

“Whoa, whoa”, he exclaims, “I wasn’t taking it off”. 

You begin to sob, although you knew he was being honest. 

The day was long, you were tired and far from home. 

Billy releases you, only to blow out the lamp, before returning to his spot. 

He nestles up behind you once more, entrapping you in his strong arms. 

“It’s all alright now. Just go to sleep. I love you”. 

When you wake the tent is pitch black, your dress digs into you. You knew it wasn’t true but it felt like tiny bugs were crawling along your skin trapped between the fabric. 

You  had to get the dress off. Although you were so tired, not even your eyes would open as your hands reached for the laces. 

Billy’s arm was knocked off you as you fought to get the dress off. Your movements wake him but he doesn’t reproach you in anger. Instead he sits up, his hands go to the laces at the back and works to undo them. 

It was a relief when your dress loosened, allowing you to push it off your body. Billy’s guiding hand helped in the dark.

His strong hand gripped the fabric of the dress, pulling it down over your legs and onto the floor. It comes up again, rubbing your arm and coxing you back down. You fall into him as you both settle back. The blanket is thrown back over you and you are asleep before you realise you are in nothing but your undergarments. 

—---------------------------------

The next morning, Billy is not in the tent as you wake. 

The morning was cold. The air still carrying the fresh sting of frost. 

Billy had left the clothes bag in the corner of the tent. You crawl to it with the blanket wrapped around you.

Billy at least had the decency to pack you fresh undergarments, and warm clothes. You dress quickly while still under the warmth of the blanket. 

You finish just in time to hear Billy calling for you outside of the tent. 

“Y/n I am going to come in now”, he says, “Is that alright?”. 

In answer you reach forward to the tent flap and pull it back to reveal him. 

“Good Morning”, he greets with a smile. 

He was carrying with him another bowl of porridge. 

“If we get going soon, we can reach Montvile by tomorrow afternoon”. Billy steps to the side, allowing you to climb out of the tent. Once you stand, he offers you the bowl which you take. 

He had already saddled his horse and loaded the bags on. All that's left was the tent. You wonder if he regrets bringing you. He would surely be in Montvile already if not for you. 

“Alright”, you respond, stepping out of his way and eating a large spoonful of porridge. You watch him as he packs up the tent and gear. 

‘How are you feeling this morning?”, he asks as he folds his tent expertly up. 

“I can’t stop thinking about my father”, you admit, “He is going to be so mad”.

“I dont see why. You aren’t his concern anymore”

“I am his daughter”.

“You’re my wife”. 

You take another bite of your food. There was no point in arguing with him. 

Billy continues to pack the tent tightly into its bag. He works quickly, and quietly. His brows furrow as he was thinking about something that upset him. 

“Come on now”, he calls as he hooks the bag onto the saddle. 

“We ought to get going if we want to get there by tomorrow”. 

With your last bite of porridge, you wash out the bowl and hand it back to Billy. 

You wait for him to finish securing the bag while you pat his horse. When he is done, he reaches his hand out towards you.

With no other choice, you walk over to him, preparing yourself for another long day of travelling. 

“Wonder how many birds we’ll see today”, Billy asks as he helps you up. 

You don’t answer him. Looking out to the sky.

All around you was open space, filled by dead grass and tall trees.

The sun was just rising over the mountain, and you watched as it rose higher in the sky.

You don’t see your first bird until the sun nearly centers the sky. 

Billy rides at a comfortable pace. A comfortable breeze runs across the land, cooling down the effect of the hot sun. You lean back into him, allowing him to carry your weight as your eyes drift close with sleep. 

Suddenly Billy pulls up on the reins, stopping his horse in the centre of nowhere. You turn back to ask him what he was doing but the view of him reaching for his shotgun muted you. 

He cocks it, bringing the gun in front of you and turning his head to watch another horseman come barreling down over the hill. 

Did Billy know he was there? It seemed impossible, you saw nothing but trees, heard nothing but birds. 

“What’s going on?” you ask him. 

“Just stay quiet. Everything is going to be okay”, he commands. 

When the horseman approaches you shrink back into Billy. His smile was crooked and sinister. 

He was older, maybe mid forties, but his skin was weathered with deep wrinkles across his face. 

“Well howdy there”, he greeted, “Don’t see too many passers-by out this way”.

“We’re on our honeymoon” Billy answers, “Heading to Montville”. 

“I’ll be damned, two newly-weds. Now you definitely don’t see that out here”. 

The man squints at Billy, leaning over his horses neck to get a better look. 

“You look awful familiar. Have I robbed you before?”, the man asks. 

Your fear spikes. How would you get back home with nothing? Billy said himself that its easy to get lost. To be without transport, food or water, what chance was there?

“You aint going to rob me a first time”, Billy retorts. 

Billy keeps the gun low, only raising it with the intent to shoot.

“Careful, boy. Would hate to leave your wife a widow so young. What’s a little gold in the long run?”.  He reaches for his gun, resting it casually in his hand. 

“You raise, and I’ll shoot”, Billy promises. 

“Aint going to raise, you just- you just” the man stutters. He squints once more, looking at you and then back to Billy, “I swear I know you. I never forget a face. Where do I know you from?”

“Billy” you protest. Surely, he could give the man something to send him on his way. He didn’t need all of it. 

“Billy? Wait, aint you Billy-the-kid?”, the man quietly asks. 

“Am I?”, Billy mocks. 

“Look, I don’t want any trouble”.

“You think I do? I’ve got my women with me”. 

His gun is holsted once more and  his hands are put out in surrender with the reins. 

“You go your way, and I’ll go mine, hey?”, the man suggests, “aint no need for a shoot out in the middle of nowhere”. 

“I think that’ll be best”, Billy agrees in a hard tone. 

Still the man makes no move. As if he didn’t trust Billy to keep his word.  

Billy clicks his tongue, shoving his head back towards the mountain, “Get”, he demands. 

The men nods once, before rearing his horse to move. 

“Are you alright?” Billy asks you. 

“He was going to rob us” you state .

“Yeah. He was”, Billy acknowledges. 

“He was going to shoot you. Shoot me”. 

“No, he wasn’t. I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you”, he promises. 

“He had a gun” 

“I had a gun, and I am a better shot”. 

You laugh almost crazily. It was only the second day and you were almost robbed. What was going to happen on your journey to face the man in the wanted poster? 

“Aint you Billy-the-kid”, you repeat. His statement scared you. What had Billy done that just his name made the Robber give up. 

“You’re safe” Billy promises, “He wasn’t going to hurt you’.

“It isn’t him I am worried about” you mutter. 

Billy spurs his horse to movement, continuing the same pace as before. He makes no comment, pretending as if he didn’t hear. 

“Just lay back and rest like before. We still have a bit to cover before we can stop for the night”. 

You don’t listen to him. Remaining rigid and taking every effort not to touch any part of him. 

Soon your body begins to ache from the tense posture but you do not yield to it. Your mind floods with the image of Billy-the-kid. You knew he was an outlaw. That he had killed people in different cities. But the man William Bonney and the myth of Billy-the-kid didn’t match up. Was he tricking you? When would Billy-the-kid reveal himself? Would William one day disappear completely and leave you with only the outlaw?

“Look there’s one”, Billy interrupts your train of thought, pointing out a bird in the sky.

William was here now, and you knew you were in no danger from the rider behind you. 

But Billy-the-kid lurked underneath. With every mile to Montville, the kid drew closer to the surface. 

The day dragged past without any further mishaps. When the sun disappeared and the cold night took its place, Billy finally stopped to set up camp. 

You stretched your aching muscles while Billy unpacked the bags. The air was cold and sky almost dark so you helped him set up the tent and began cooking while he tendered to his horse. 

“We’ll make it by mid-morning tomorrow”, he announced coming over from his work to where you sat, heating up tea, and cooking the salted meat, potatoes and carrots he managed to bring. 

He takes a seat next to you on the log he rolled over. You don’t answer him as you dish out the cooked food and serve him some hot tea. 

“Thank you”, he says as he takes the plate and leaves the cup on the ground by his foot. 

You continue ignoring him while you serve yourself. A full day of riding left you starving. Billy too. So you ate in silence by the fire. 

Billy had brought you a coat which helped keep you warm, but being out in the open froze your hands and your face which were left bare. 

You longed for home. You could be warm indoors, sitting in bed with the fire on and all the windows shut. 

“Food tastes different”, Billy slyly comments, “You know being the first meal made by my wife”.

“It's just food” you say, putting down your empty plate in exchange for your tea. 

You drink it too fast, liking the way it warms you. The warmth of the cup dissolves with the cold air, so you place it on the stack of used plates on the ground. 

You shiver slightly, rubbing your hands together. 

“Here, come here”, he says cupping your hands into his and bringing them up to his mouth to blow warmth into. He then rolls them between his large palms, creating friction of warmth. 

“I couldn’t get your gloves back. They were already sold”, Billy declares. He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, gazing from the fire back to your hands between his.

‘We’ll have to get a new pair in Montville”.

You wiggle your hands out of his, bringing them between your knees where it would be hard to claw back. 

“I don’t know why you brought me. I slow you down, and I am an added expense”, you say. 

“No, you aint. Wives ain't added expenses”. 

“Billy, stop calling me wife”, you beg. 

“Well that’s what you are”, he retorts in a child-like manner. 

You sigh, bending down to pick up the dirty plates as an excuse to no longer engage in conversation. 

His hands grab the other side of the plate, pulling them towards him. 

“I’ve got it”, he states, “You cooked, I’ll do the dishes”.

You release them over to him, now free to stand. He follows you up and you stare awkwardly at each other.

“I am going to bed then”, you declare, walking past him to the tent. 

“Goodnight”, he calls out after you. 

The tent was warmer but still too cold for your liking. 

You weren’t foolish enough to try and sleep in your dress again. Billy had brought you a nightgown which changed into quickly. The material was thick and white that reached your ankles. It had thick straps but no sleeves so you left your coat on as you climbed under the covers. 

Billy joins not too long after. You hear him enter the tent and begin to undress. 

You don’t open your eyes, but feel the wave of cold air as he lifts the blanket.

His arm goes around your waist, and you feel his chest against your back. It felt right to try and make space between you two, but Billy drags you back by your waist and presses you tightly against him. 

“Gotta stay close, to stay warm”, he mutters sleepily. 

He was right. It was much warmer with him beside you.

So you let him be. No one could blame you for trying to keep warm. It was innocent enough. 

If you were going off Billy’s word, he was your husband after all. 

You wonder if the bounty was going to leave you a young widow, or another tally on a wanted poster. It would worry you more if you could get your mind to stop being distracted by the cold.  

Your nose felt so cold it might break off, so you wiggle to turn your body towards billy. His hold was tight until he figured out you were turning to him, only then did it loosen to a hover until you settled, digging your nose into his chest.

His hold clamps back down on your hip, and you both shut your eyes, falling into a peaceful sleep. 

—--------------------------------------------

You woke the next morning by the feeling of your cheeks being pushed together. The hold tilting your head up to be greeted by a pair of lips against yours. 

You push away from him, using his shoulders as a lunching pad to topple you to the safety of the tents fabric. 

“Sorry”, he says sheepishly, “Too pretty not to kiss”. 

“Do not touch me”, you scold. 

“What?” he asked as if he found it amusing. 

He crawls over to you, stopping just in front of you and rising on his knees to face you. 

His hands plant themselves on either side of your body and he lowers himself so he was level with your face. 

“Don’t” you tell him again. 

“Don’t what?”, he teases. 

He leans closer, placing a gentle kiss to your nose. Then to your furrow brow. His hands come up to your hips in a painful hold to keep you there. 

Your head turns away from him, and your eyes squeeze shut. Another kiss is placed to your cheek and then to the shell of your ear where he begins a quiet whisper. 

“You’re daddy’s kept you locked up pretty good. When we get to Montville, I’ll show you just how good my touch can be.”

A final kiss is placed just under your ear on the jaw bone before Billy pulls himself back and with haste begins dressing himself.

‘Darlin’ I think it would be best if you got dressed now”, he says, slinging his straps over his broad shoulders, “We’ll get going soon”. 

“You touch me in Montville and I’ll scream. They’ll hang you” you threaten. 

“A husband has certain rights. They’ll tell me to belt you before they hang me”.

He yanks on his coat in a rough movement, reaching next for his hat on the ground. 

“You can’t prove it in Montville”, you retorted angrily. 

“You”, he bites back, “Can’t prove it”. 

He exists the tent in a huff. You hear him muttering outside. ’women’ and ‘brat’ were discernible but the rest of his sentence was too low of breath. 

He is loud as he packers up the camp. Pots based together in an awful noise, and he yells at his horse to come here. 

You dress quickly, packing up the bedding for his return. 

His kisses still sear your skin where they landed. You almost regret your words. You were still a mornings travel from Montville. In the middle of nowhere. With only Billy to keep you alive through the travel. 

You hide from him in the tent, hoping his temper has cooled. 

When he poked his head through the tent's entrance, his brow was still cross, and his voice still hard. 

“Get out of the tent, I have to pack it up”, he demands. 

You take the rolled bedding, and suitcase in your hands as you make your way out. Billy, still not mad enough to watch you struggle, takes the suitcase and one rolled mat. 

He follows you to his horse and begins to pack the saddle in silence. Your hands smooth themselves against the leather of the saddle, anxiously. 

Billy tears himself away after his work is done without a word, going back to the tent and packing it up. 

He made you feel guilty, but it was him who was in the wrong. He shouldn’t have touched you. Shouldn’t have taken you to that priest. This was all his fault, you wont yield to his sins. 

‘Don’t think about getting on that horse without me”, he calls.

You thought he wasn’t watching you but his eyes must have swayed up from their work. 

“That man was afraid of me, not you”, he refers to the robber who was still at large in the wilderness.

“Why was he afraid of you?”, you ask. 

Plenty of men have killed people. You were sure even that man had killed people before. He was ready to shoot too easily. So why did he back down upon hearing Billy’s nic name?

He finishes with the tent bringing it back over to the rest of the gear and where you stood. 

Once more, he gets too close to you as he speaks. 

“Because I am Billy-the-kid”, he answers.

“Is Billy-the-kid the type of man to rape a women?” you push. 

“We’re husband and wife. It aint rape”, he seeths.

“Is he?”, you contend once more. 

He goes silent. His whole body pauses in contemplation for what feels like an eternity before his hands pick up their task once more and he moves on like he didn’t hear you. 

“Get up on the horse. Come on, let’s get a move on”.

With the bag strapped in, his hands move to your hips and he moves you into position before up on the horse. 

He swings up behind you and as you move towards Montville, your blood begins to run cold. 

[teacupdoesstuff]

I have a question for you, @quiddie , that is too long for The Fireside, if you have the time, thank you very much.

In the Children’s adventure when Ame must help Eursulon return to his home, Suvi is left behind in the house because night is coming soon and she must follow the rules that have been placed for her.

In the beginning on the campaign when our team meets back up again 20(?) years later you say through Suvi’s inner monologue that she doesn’t know how much longer Ame and Eursulon had spent time together post Suvi’s leaving

Then in arch 1 Suvi sees Ame and Eursulon hearing something talk to them and only them, then later in that same arch she sees Ame chase after Eursulon under quest fever, being left out and behind once again.

Then in arch 2 when Suvi sees Eursulon chasing after another something and Ame following, she is out of the loop once more.

And finally (for what is out so far) when Suvi sees Eursulon and Ame running away again and leave her vision, she does not know how long they have been together AGAIN!

So my question, after all of this ^, is:

Does Suvi trust Eursulon and Ame or do you think Suvi will forever be out of the loop and always left behind?

Thank you again for your time.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Mother, I am hungry☹️ could you please give us a list of Kinks you think Konig would have to satisfy my hunger?🙏🏾

Hooooo boy!

CW: PURE FILTH below the cut, 18+ only. Light dom/sub, disciplinary/power play, exhibitionism, light bondage, domestic servitude, somnophilia, yandere!König killing someone who saw you naked, squirting, porn, M/F/F/F

Nature lover. The blowjob in the forest fantasy wasn't a lie! König thinks it would be romantic to make love to you in the middle of a dreamy glade, rut you against a sturdy tree, or have you take him in your mouth on some picturesque beach empty of other people.

He would also love to "warm himself" during a nice little wintertime walk, perhaps push you on your belly in the snow and tug your pants down just enough for him to slide inside your wet heat. The contrast between the frigid air and your warm, wet pussy drives him over the brink in mere minutes, and it's cute to watch you pout all the way back home – he knows his cum is spilling out of you, staining your underwear. He should give you a wash when you get back to turn that frown upside down ❤️

Powerplay. König loves to be in control. He would like to set a few rules for you and punish you when you "accidentally" break them. Those rules would be nonsensical and superficial – such as that you must greet him in nothing but your underwear when he comes home, ensure he always has clean clothes in the drawer, cook his favorite meal on Sundays, things like that. "You know what this means, Schatz," he mutters on your neck upon noticing you've broken his Sacred Rules, much to his delight – because the disciplinary action is that he's allowed to take you right then and there.

It's even better if you beg him not to punish you, explaining that you're tired or that you forgot. It's too bad, because only a safeword will save you. König is already getting his leaking cock out while you're on your knees, asking him to be merciful, just this once. "You know I have to do this… It's the only way you'll learn," he says before commanding you to either open that pretty mouth or turn around and bend over.

Squirting. He would be overjoyed if he got you to squirt. König has mainly watched amateur porn because regular porn is too emotionless and unnatural in his opinion. His preference is women doing solo – that's when he learned what squirting was and immediately vowed he would make his future wife squirt one day.

Exhibitionistic tendencies. This kind of ties in with the sex in nature fantasies: König would secretly love to get caught while having sex. He would particularly love it if the one catching you was a man, so that a "rivaling male" could see 1. how a woman is supposed to be fucked 2. how much you enjoy being fucked by him 3. what they can never have, i.e. gorgeous, whimpering, devastated you.

Yandere König would also kill the one who witnessed you two (and what's worse: witnessed you in a vulnerable, naked, quivering state), and I mean kill him right away, then come back to continue the session as if nothing happened 💀 In his mind, it's all very simple: he has to get rid of the one who laid eyes on you, then give you and himself an orgasm. In that order.

For him, there's nothing odd or wrong with striking a bloodied knife on your nightstand when he returns from his quest for blood. He'll insert his still hard cock inside you while speaking sweet nonsense in your ear, cooing how tight you are in a shaky, adrenaline-filled voice. You try to ignore the fact that he now has dried blood on his muscles, but it's no use. König reminds you of what he just did when your face distorts with tight pleasure. "No one is going to see you like this and live," his voice is almost a growl when you cum around that torturingly long cock.

Dominance and prisoner play. König would love to tie you up and use you as his personal fucktoy. And not just for one session… But for a solid, good 24 hours.

He wouldn't tie you too tight, just enough to prevent you from escaping the bed while he goes about his day, drinks a beer or two, comes to you every few hours to either make sweet, slow love to you… or fuck you with pent-up lust.

You being tied and helpless like that makes König attentive and tender one minute, and needy and greedy the next. You never know how it's going to be when he walks through that door, all you know is that he's going to pump you full of his cum.

He stays to watch it ooze out of you – it's actually one of the main events of this whole show because it means he'll have to fill you up again soon. He might also give himself a fap if you look too used and miserable or if you beg for mercy and whimper that you're sore. It's no problem: he's more than happy to cover your body with his seed. He's merciful like that.

When the day is done, you're a mess – inside and out – and he's fucked you stupid more times you can count, giving you so many orgasms that you feel soft in the head. What's fun though is that the man himself is in no better shape: you notice his legs are shaking when he finally comes to release you, looking like he has lost more than a few brain cells due to breaking the Guinness record of fucking you and himself senseless.

If you ever want to fulfill this fantasy, you will receive abundant aftercare. And I mean abundant. Bathing, cooing, pampering, treats, praise, and cuddles galore!

Mirrors. Fucking you in front of a mirror is like watching the best porn ever. Anything with a reflection will do, as long as König can watch you come undone, helpless and needy for his cock while he gets to display his strength. This man will probably install a mirror to your bedroom ceiling without asking your permission, but he prefers doing you from standing, prefers to do the lifting and the work.

Ballet dancer from behind and a stand & carry variation of Nelson are his favorite positions when using mirrors. All you have to do is enjoy... and obey when he tells you to watch what he's doing to you. "Look at that... You like being fucked like this?" he pants in your ear with strain and love while you both can see just how much you like it – his cock is practically glistening from how wet you are.

I'm sorry, were you busy? God forbid if you're wearing a dress or a skirt while making an important call. It doesn't matter if you're sitting: König will approach you, gets on his knees and then starts to kiss his way under your skirt.

Good luck trying to concentrate on that call when there's a horny giant forcing his head under your cute little dress. Soon he's sniffing at your cunt and tries to pull your underwear aside with his teeth. Try keeping your voice normal when he actually succeeds and you feel the first lick sweep over your pussy, flat tongued and hot.

You don't dare to fight him or tell him to stop in the middle of your serious, official and important call, which means you can feel the smiles on your poor wet heat. Of course König notices you're starting to sound like you're half crying... It only spurs him on!

You're a bit disoriented and don't register it at first that this hulking man is already climbing on top of you. It's rare for him to beg, but as he continues to dry hump you and then forces his cock between your thighs in search of your wet heat, you can hear him whisper: "Engel? Bitte... I have to put it in. Don't say no…"

Somnophilia kink. Yep, he has it, because the more helpless you are, the more "loving" he gets. König loves to watch you sleep, safe and secure there in his bed and in his arms. He caresses you like you're the Sleeping Beauty and if you happen to sleep naked (like he always does, this guy is a bit of a nudist at home), his fingers soon drift down to tease your clit, his hips start to slowly grind against your leg until you stir.

Gangbang fantasies where he's the one doing all the banging. One of his fantasies is to have multiple women all to himself. König would never seek to fulfill these fantasies in a committed relationship, but when he was lonely and only had his hand to keep him company, König used to dream he could have a row of women waiting for him when he returned from a mission 🙄

Usually three ladies who all want to worship and touch him and tell him how big he is, how heroic he is. He will command them to all fours, and they obey happily, ready and willing to be used. He does these ladies from behind, switching between them until everyone, including him, is on the brink of an orgasm. In these fantasies he always makes those women cum first. No one can say our King lacks manners! (How cute that he's so sure of himself... Would König even have the willpower to switch from one pussy to the next, not to talk of outlasting three women? I highly doubt that.)

Or how about these girls getting on their knees to suck his cock? In König's desperate, lonesome fantasies, these cute ladies love him so much that they start to fight over who gets to take him in their sweet wet mouth. They will eventually solve the fight by forming a queue – every woman gets half a minute with their King before changing. The long seconds when his cock is bouncing there in the cold air, devoid of a warm mouth, are torture. But he would stand strong!

Our brave soldier falls asleep while imagining how these purring, warm babes would cling to him for warmth and cuddles. Everyone is happy and pleased and he has been loved and worshiped thoroughly. In truth he just came in one minute, then tries to curl into a fetal position in a bed far too small for him. Cooling down from the day's highs, this Goliath is all alone, his last thought being that if he could get just one real woman to admire and love him and hug him before they go to sleep together, he would be the happiest man in the world.