#I didn’t just find these on Pinterest

[lovekenney]

Community shitpost

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

NEW GATE GUYSSS (im going crazy)

So we all know POSSESSIONGATE, right? Mike’s leg being grabbed by that vine, Mike’s left eye being eerily dark in a lot of scenes, yada yada.

We all know the implied connection between Mike and Vecna due to that eye. Vecna having one eye and all… but what if i said Vecna isn’t the one Mike is being compared to? (I’m going crazy send help)

There’s someone else with only one eye… (sigh) someone who shares other things with Michael Wheeler, other than having only one eye… that’s right (she said as if it’s obvious who im talking about… yk what just scroll get it over with quick)

…

*MIKE* MAZOWSKI… *MIKE* WHEELER…

Miniongate has officially been upgraded.

#wazowskigate

[poeticsapphicism]

📸 taken by gloria <3

[goatsghost]

was anyone going to tell me that cassandra jean had made fanart for the raven cycle in 2013 or was i just supposed to find that out myself while looking up aglionby information for a potential cosplay idea

[catastrxblues]

rachel elizabeth dare defender til the day i die

[kindlythevoid]

Hey squad, I just got emotional over one of my least problematic fav classics hero, Odysseus, and how he went to war for a decade because he loved his family and how he spent the next decade searching for that family and how his family had such faith that he would crawl back to them that they waited the twenty years for him.

[kontadodju]

Listen to Liniker’s Presente like actually

[the-xenogender-painter]

hoemstukc (pls paint this with a homestuck themed xenogender, preferably soporgender or a terezi themed gender <3)

This ask has been painted with the xenogender homestuckgender!

[science-hoes]

Sugar Rush

Jack Abbot x Reader

Warnings: FILTHY SMUT, lactation kink, unprotected sex, language

Description: Jack isn’t bashful in bed, but there is one thing that he won’t ask for. When the Reader has a clogged milk duct, he finally gets his chance to take what he wants.

Jack Abbot Masterlist

—

Jack Abbot never shied away from taking what he wanted, especially when it came to you. Every move, every word was calculated and intentional. Just like when he got you pregnant on purpose after mentally tracking your ovulation week and demanding that you didn’t take a Plan B after he came in you.

“Almost 50, love. I wanna see our kids grow up.” He had mumbled in your ear as he reeled from his orgasm high.

You were so giddy and even more turned on that you didn’t dare disobey the direct order from your soldier. And he got exactly what he wanted. A month and some at-home pregnancy tests later, you knew you were pregnant. You had Robby’s wife confirm with a transvaginal ultrasound, and she printed out the pictures of the tiny little bean for you to take home.

You brainstormed the cute ways to tell Jack, searching through Pinterest and TikTok that night when he was working. But when you came in to relieve the night shift and kiss him goodbye before he went home, you couldn’t find him anywhere. Robby had confirmed your suspicions when he pointed to the ceiling, not a single word uttered.

Jack was sitting on the railing of the roof, watching the sun climb over the buildings, instead of his usual lean with the rail against his back.

“That’s making me anxious.” You had called out to him to make your presence known.

Jack didn’t turn around to acknowledge you. Instead, he waited until you leaned forward on the safe side of the railing next to him. “I killed another vet tonight.” He mumbled.

You let out a heavy sigh, eyes focused on the sunrise. “Jack, you didn’t kill anyone. You just couldn’t save him.” You spoke the words that he had whispered in your ear many times after a rough shift.

“Same difference.” He replied, knuckles white as he grasped the railing.

You grabbed his large bicep, your hand not nearly big enough to wrap around it. “Will you please come to this side with me?” You begged in a calm whisper.

Jack closed his eyes and drew in a sharp breath of morning air. “Why?” He asked, but he knew why. You wanted him safe, with a steel rail in between him and his death. Not balancing on it like a fucking amateur acrobat.

You reached into your back pocket, grasping the folded papers there. “I have a surprise for you.” Your voice lilted as a smile grew on your face.

Jack huffed and finally met your gaze. “Do I look like I’m 6 years old to you?” He deadpanned.

You giggled and waved the folded papers in front of him. “No, you look 50.” You replied and let the papers unfold, revealing the chain of ultrasound pictures. “Which is why I think you’ll like these.”

Jack’s eyes blew wide, the sunrise reflecting every single color off his irises. He faltered a bit on the rail as he quickly climbed down, probably the closest he’s ever come to falling off the building. You grasped his tight fitting black undershirt in your fists to balance him as he landed on his feet to the safe side of the railing.

“Is that ours?” He asked, almost afraid to hear the answer in case it was “no.”

But you passed the sonogram pictures to his thick hands, letting his fingers trace over the tiny bean that was your baby.

“That’s an Abbot.” You confirmed, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing your head against his broad chest.

Throughout the pregnancy, Jack served you in every way imaginable. He cooked every meal, tended to every chore, anticipated your needs before you could even place them. In his eyes, as your body began to change, he swore you turned more into a goddess by the day. And he especially couldn’t stop looking at your breasts. The way they swelled and hung heavy on your chest was enough to make his mouth water. But, for the first time, he couldn’t bring himself to take what he wanted.

You returned from a long day shift, only your second one back from maternity leave, with aching joints and dark circles under your eyes. Jack was holding Daniel in his arms as he watched a replay of the Steelers game on the couch. The sight was a relief after a day of blood and chaos, and you silently snuggled against Jack.

“How are my boys?” You whispered, against his chest, letting a finger trace against Daniel’s cheek.

Jack pressed a firm kiss to your hair, inhaling your scent of vanilla and antiseptic, as he pulled you impossibly close. “We’re good. Just missed him. I think he was trying to stay awake for you.” He replied.

Your baby rested peacefully on his father’s chest, so tiny in comparison. Your heart swelled as you noticed his little fists holding onto the fabric of his old army shirt.

“I can’t believe you were a redhead.” You mumbled, tracing Daniel’s orange wisps on his head.

Jack chuckled, and the rumble of his chest caused your baby to stir, but not enough to wake. “He’s gonna drive anesthesia crazy.” He noted. “Redheads need more anesthetic.”

You giggled and nudged his prosthesis with your foot. He wore it around the house more often now instead of his crutches. He wanted to be able to carry his son wherever he went. “Is that what happened to you?” You asked.

He nodded with a dry laugh. “Oh yeah. I remember half of my amputation.” He confessed.

You grimaced at the thought, but then a jolt of pain shot through your chest. You shuddered and let out an uncomfortable breath.

Jack raised an eyebrow, thinking you were distressed about his story. “I couldn’t feel anything.” He clarified.

You shook your head and sat up. “No, it’s not that.” You said, clutching your breasts. “I think I have a clogged milk duct.” You hissed through another stab of pain.

He sat up straight with you, shifting Daniel in his arms. “Need me to look?” He asked.

Most of the time, you would have waved him off. You were a capable doctor and had read up on every single complication of motherhood during your pregnancy. But you weren’t sure how to fix this one. “Yeah.” You admitted.

Jack nodded and stood carefully. “Let me put him down real quick.” He said before disappearing to the nursery.

While he was gone, you shucked off your scrub top, but your breasts were still bound by your maternity bra. Your hand massaged at your chest, trying to relieve the pressure on your right breast where the suspected block was.

When Jack reentered the room, the sight of you was enough to make him freeze. Your palms kneading against your chest, moans crawling from your throat and leaving your pretty lips. He felt himself harden as he sat next to you on the couch again.

“Let me see.” He whispered because if he had spoken any louder, his voice would have cracked in desperation.

Jack trailed one hand behind your back and found the clasp of your bra, expertly releasing the hooks. A small bit of tension in your chest relieved when the bra fell from your shoulders, and you let out a shaky breath. Your breasts hung from your chest, overexpanded from milk buildup. Your nipples hardened as the cold air of the living room hit your skin.

Jack swallowed thickly as he tried to resist the urge to tackle you down and start sucking like an animal. He scooted closer on the couch, so he could examine you.

“Which one hurts?” He asked, amber eyes flicking between your breasts.

Your hand clutched your right one. “This one.” You answered.

Jack’s calloused but experienced fingers traced over your skin, searching for a hardened area. Your skin crawled with pleasure at his ministrations, but you were quickly snapped back to reality when he pressed against the spot where you’d felt pain earlier.

“Right here?” He asked.

You tried to twitch away from his grasp, but his hand held your breast securely. “Yeah.” You grunted.

Jack nodded and reached his free hand to your left breast, giving it the same examination. The way his eyes scanned your chest was so clinical and practiced. Like you weren’t his wife anymore but his patient. It was really, really attractive.

“Does it hurt anywhere else?” He asked as his thick hands skimmed across every inch of your breasts.

You felt an uncomfortable rush of hormones in your rib cage as his hands continued to stimulate you. “Jack, you’re gonna have to fix it.” You groaned as your head dropped back.

His eyes finally looked up for the first time since your bra was discarded. “Fix it?” He questioned, but God, he knew what you meant.

The let-down reflex was nearing, and you couldn’t bear the discomfort in your right breast. You pushed him back against the upright couch cushions and straddled his hips. Your breasts hung above his face, and suddenly, he was as bashful as a teenage boy.

“Please, Jack.” You pleaded, massaging your right breast as the pins and needles sensation grew stronger.

Jack stared at you like a deer in headlights. The one thing he had been too shy to ask for because, well, it wasn’t supposed to be for him. It was supposed to be for your son. But here you were, straddling him, begging him to take what shouldn’t be his.

Before he could make a sound, you snatched the back of his head, fingers anchoring in his chrome curls, and shoved his face against your breast. His mouth latched onto your nipple like it was a primal instinct. His tongue suctioned underneath and began to suckle. His hands dug into your hips when his unconsciously bucked up against them.

The sounds that left your lips were vulgar, the sensation of pain and discomfort fighting against the pleasure of his lips around your nipple and his cock teasing your pussy through layers of his jeans and your scrub pants.

You shuddered as the let-down reflex initiated, and the first drops of milk dripped onto Jack’s tongue. He growled at the taste of the forbidden fruit, spurring him to suck harder. He used his free hand to clamp your other nipple in between his knuckles, tugging to release the milk on that side. The pain in your right breast slowly began to dissolve, and you yelped when a long drag from Jack’s mouth cleared the blockage.

Reluctantly, Jack released your nipple only to present the smallest clot on his tongue, his mouth starting to curl into a prideful smile. You let out a sigh of relief as Jack spit the clot out into a burping cloth from the side table, and he began to shift like he was going to get up.

You ground down against his hips hard in retaliation, drawing a startled groan from him. “You’re not gonna finish what you started?” You questioned.

Jack watched you with predatory eyes, and his hands squeezed your thighs. “Need me to fuck you?” He asked condescendingly.

You smirked and grabbed his face in your hands, puffing your chest out so that your breasts were showcased in front of his eyes. “Need you to milk me.” You corrected.

He wanted to play it cool. He really did. But his trembling hands gave him away as they moved to massage your breasts, letting the warm droplets race down his forearms as they fell. “You’re sure?” He asked, nearly choking on his watering mouth.

You squeezed your breasts on top of his hands, more droplets pearling at your nipples. “Daddy’s turn, yeah?” You teased, pulling off his worn out army shirt to reveal the corded muscles of his upper body.

His cock twitched at your words, and without another word, he dove into your chest, teeth snatching at your nipple again until he was latched. The short and fast suckles began to fade into deeper, longer sucks as your milk fully released to a constant stream.

He tweaked at your other nipple with his fingertips, pulling in a consistent pattern to release the milk from that breast. The pressure behind the stream caused it to spray onto his chest, decorating it along with his freckles.

You moaned in ecstasy as the oxytocin rush seeped across your body, and you began to unbutton his jeans. You managed to free yourself from your scrub bottoms and underwear without breaking Jack’s connection on your chest. You let your slick pussy slide against his abdomen for a few moments, combining your wetness with the rivers of milk that streamed from his chest.

“That wet for Daddy, huh?” He breathed in between swallows.

A desperate sound of confirmation left you as he twisted your nipple inside his hungry mouth. Your fingers quickly pulled his aching cock from his boxer briefs, sliding his jeans down enough to give you everything you wanted.

You sank down on his never ending length, the stretch still as paralyzing as the first time he fucked you. You could feel every ridge and vein of his cock inside you. He groaned against your breast, teeth digging into your nipple as he felt the warmth of your pussy around him. You let out a scream at the sharp sensation, but he slapped his hand over your mouth.

“Don’t wake him.” He growled against your breast. “Daddy’s turn.”

Your cheeks flushed at his dominance, and you nodded against his large hand. That hand slowly trailed to your neck and squeezed against your pulse point. His hips began to roll as he continued to drink from your fountain. Milk dribbled down the edges of his lips when he came up reluctantly to breathe.

“You taste like a goddamn sin.” He mumbled, looking up to you with those bourbon eyes.

Your cheeks flushed at his words, and your fingers dug into his shoulder blades as you continued to bounce on his lap. At some point, he moved his focus to your other breast, draining its reserves.

“Jack, I’m gonna…I’m gonna…” You panted in between his thrusts and suckling.

He just doubled down on his worship to your body, bucking his hips impossibly deeper into you and swallowing harder around your nipple. The spring that had been coiling tighter and tighter in your belly finally snapped, sending your white hot orgasm across your body. You went limp in his arms as he fucked you like a ragdoll, chasing his own release.

It wasn’t long until you felt his hips stutter, his characteristic finish before he released inside you, ropes of hot cum painting your walls. Even as he breathed sharply through his nose and moaned through his orgasm, his lips remained faithfully latched to your nipple. His sucks had slowed as he drunkenly swallowed around your breast.

The stimulation made you shiver, and you ran a hand through his dampened curls. “Had enough?” You questioned, secretly hoping he would say no.

Jack chuckled and released your nipple, leaning his head back against the coach. His lips were beautifully swollen, eyes dazed like he was inebriated. His chest heaved as his breathing stabilized, pools of cream in the crevices of the muscles and veins of his chest.

“I wanna overdose on this.” He mumbled contently. “Giving me a goddamn sugar rush.”

—

A/N: Yeah I’m gonna need to go to church after writing this one. Also this was my first Jack Abbot smut fic 💕

[lovekenney]

Community shit post

[mallory524]

going out

bob x reader

pictures from pinterest

summary- You and Bob finally spend some time together one morning, but you find yourself rushing to defend him when he gets overwhelmed and people aren’t kind to him.

word count- 1,691

tags- THUNDERBOLTS* SPOILERS, fluff, pining, just a little language, hand holding, stranger being rude to bob :(

notes- the thunderbolts live in the watchtower (previously the avengers towers) because that’s what the post credit scene made it seem like and if I’m wrong I don’t care because I love the idea of them all being roomies :)

Although things hadn’t gone as expected, they are plenty of perks that come with being the New Avengers. The group hangs out together in the Watchtower all the time, none of you have to hide in the shadows anymore, and all the other accompanying “hero” perks. Helping the city by reversing the Void damage thrust the Thunderbolts into the spotlight, which typically just meant being waved to on the streets, and a lot of being told “your money’s no good here” with a big smile when you go out to eat.

Although the group fights a lot, there’s an unspoken understanding that you’re a real team now. More and more often the bickering is playful rather than actually malicious. At risk of sounding sentimental, real bonds are being made. Of course none of you would ever admit that out loud. Except maybe Alexei.

Bob’s enjoying his new life, too. Probably. You assume. He’s still a quiet guy, and sometimes he opts to stay in and read when you all go out for lunch or something. He’s still working through a lot, but everyone else is too, so you know to give him space. It’s clear to all of you that he’s slowly getting a bit more comfortable here with every passing day.

One cold morning, while everyone is sleeping in, you hear rustling and muttering in the other room. You throw on a robe and silently walk into the other room to investigate. Bob’s on the ground picking a bunch of papers up, and he whips his head around when he hears your footsteps.

“Sorry, I accidentally knocked all of Bucky’s things over. I’ve got it”, he says as you sit down next to him and help anyway. For a split second your fingers brush, but he pulls away, almost instinctively. You’d noticed that physical touch in general didn’t seem to bother him that much, but little soft moments like that make him nervous.

He’s gotten a bit of a handle on accidentally showing people memories they didn’t want to see, but maybe he’s nervous that he’d do it again without meaning to.

“Hey, have you had anything to eat yet?”, you say quietly, trying not to wake anyone else up. He shakes his head.

“Do you want to get something? There’s a coffee place I go to a lot. They have little pastries and stuff, too, if any of that sounds appetizing...”

He thinks about it for a second, and then smiles and nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

Inside the coffee shop, it’s cozy and warm. You take off your large sweater, and your phone falls out of the pocket and onto the floor, and both you and Bob reach down for it at the same time. Your hands brush again and he nervously pulls away again. You lean in a little closer and speak quietly. “Bob if you’re worried about-”

“No no, I’m not- it’s not that. That’s under control. I’m just… it’s nothing”. He’s clearly having trouble expressing himself, and he doesn’t seem to want to, so you shake your head and smile politely.

“Hey man, don’t worry about it.” You get a smile in return, which is always nice to see. Bob has a nice smile. It’s so sweet and warm… you can’t deny it any longer. Bob is really cute.

He felt the same way about you, but he’s way too scared to tell you something like that. He’s already jittery enough every time your hands touch…

He really likes being around you. He’s just too shy to ask you to spend time with him, so he’s thrilled that you asked him.

You start to order your usual drink, and Bob gets in the line next to you. The girl taking your order remembers you from the last time you were there, so you talk to her for a little. She’s really sweet! The guy taking Bob’s order is not.

You go to the station with the straws and napkins, and you quietly watch Bob try to order. You realize you didn’t really ask him if he was ready to order, and now he’s at the front of this line trying to figure out what he wants. Bob’s starting to stammer a little and this barista guy is cutting him no slack.

“I’m sorry I don’t know what I’m going to get, I’m thinking…”

“Sounds like something you should’ve figured out before you got to the front of the line”, he says, scoffing a little.

“Yeah you’re right, it was just really fast and-” Bob looks down and shuffles his feet a bit.

“You know there’s people behind you.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m just… um…” Bob trails off, and you can tell that the idea of holding up the line and making all these people wait for him is only making this worse. He’s nervously laughing to try to keep it light, but you can also see him fiddling with the ends of his sleeves while squinting to read the small writing on the menu. You feel your heart break a little just watching him.

“Dude if you seriously can’t figure it out maybe you could get out of line”

Just as Bob is about to step away, you decide you’re not going to watch this anymore and you step up next to him.

“Hey do you know who the hell you’re talking to?”, you say in a hushed, almost professional tone with your arms crossed. “You’re talking to someone who helped save everyone here like a month ago.”

The guy’s eyes widen with realization. “I am so sorry, I forgot, you’re those guys. I was out of town but I saw you on the news-”

“Yeah that’s us. But that doesn’t even matter, you shouldn’t be treating any of your customers like this. Do you do this to everyone? Does your manager know that? Sorry not everyone can read that crazy small print on your menu-”

You continue for a little while, and Bob takes a tiny step backwards so he can be out of your way. This is a side to you that Bob hadn’t really seen. Sure, you bicker with Walker and Ava all the time, and he’s seen how well you can fight of course, (you even had to briefly fight him that one time), but in your everyday lives, you’re always so kind and patient with him. You’re nice to people who come up to you on the street and ask for a picture, and you’re nice to strangers who are rude to you, and you’re nice to the Thunderbolts most of the time, so it’s weird for Bob to see you actually go off on someone like that… and it’s all to defend him?? Strangely, it’s one of the sweetest things someone’s done for him in a while.

“- and you’re lucky I’m speaking quietly. I could be a whole lot louder and I could make a big scene but for your sake I’ll-” but you stop talking when you hear Bob clear his throat.

“I think I know what I want to order now”

“Go ahead”, you say with a little smile as you step out of the way. Bob tells his order to the terrified young man who keeps looking at you like he’s expecting you to lunge at him.

Another barista, who doesn’t realize what just happened, recognizes the two of you and walks up to let you know that it’s all on the house. It’s hard for you and Bob to keep from giggling just a little bit.

After you get your drinks and the muffin Bob ordered, you step back outside and start walking down the street together, enjoying your food and drinks.

“Thanks. You really didn’t have to do all that. I wasn’t ready, I should’ve been ready before I got up there.”

“No, no don’t worry about that. That’s my fault, I didn’t give you any time to read the menu and figure out what you wanted. Besides, that guy was just rude. That’ll teach him to mess with the New Avengers, am I right?” and Bob chuckles quietly.

“Yeah, I don’t really know if I deserve any credit for helping save everyone when I kinda caused all of that in the first place…”

“Hey, you know that’s not your fault”, you say in a softer tone. “You didn’t do any of that on purpose”

“Yeah I know.”

A car then loudly backfires, startling both of you. Bob stops walking and grabs your hand. When he sees that it’s fine and nothing’s wrong, he’s a little embarrassed.

“Sorry I didn’t…” Bob smiles at you awkwardly and trails off. He’s about to let go when you shake your head and gently squeeze his hand. “I’m always a bit jumpy, too, don’t worry about it.”

The two of you continue walking, and you notice that he’s not letting go of your hand, now that he knows you’re fine with it. Maybe he would’ve done that a while ago if he knew you wouldn’t mind…

You walk in very comfortable silence all the way back to the tower, refusing to let go of one another’s hands. Bob feels like he can’t. Like if he let go it might never happen again. He does decide to break the silence, though.

“Y/n, I had a good time” he says as he takes another big sip of his iced coffee. “Thanks for asking me to go out with you. Well, not like go out with you but you know like, coffee and this walk and stuff”.

“Well thank you for joining me. We should do this more”, you say, smiling warmly at him. Just then, you reach the tower. Walker’s heading out, and Bucky’s right behind him. The two of you immediately let go of each other’s hands, but Walker looks at you both a little funny. “Hey guys…”

“Hey”, you say in unison, acting natural as you walk into the elevator and start to laugh a little once the doors close.

“No Bucky I swear they were holding hands. It was so weird”

“I think you’re seeing things, John”

[pomegranatesarchive]

cute funny looking child | max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x actress!reader

summary; the one where yn becomes obsessed with a cute funny looking child she stumbled across on pinterest. only to find out that the “cute funny looking child” is now a full grown formula one driver.

liked by charles_leclerc, and 715,529 others!

yourusername: i found this cute funny looking child on pinterest, then started crying because he’s just so cute

view comments below!

user1: girl what

user2: there’s medical terms for people like you

user3: no i get it

user4: he's actually so cute

user5: these pictures look old...what if this child is grown now??

user6: imagine scrolling through instagram and you see someone calling you a "cute funny looking child"

user7: this is too funny

user8: am i the only one who knows thats max??

user9: NO I DO TOO!!!

user10: us and charles LMAO

user11: he liked this and said nothing 😭

user12: not his childhood photos, not his problem

user13: how are yn and charles friends but she doesnt know what max looked like as a child?

user14: she knows nothing about f1, she's only friends with charles and thats it 😭

user15: what medical condition do you have?

user16: but…why?

user17: you have issues

user18: i don’t think this reaction is normal…

user19: babe that’s max verstappen??? formula 1 driver??? rich GROWN millionaire???

user20: millionaire you say 😏

user23: i see you didnt take your meds today

yourusername: i’ll have you know that my medication ran out so HA

user24: you might wanna ask for more

user25: yeah because this? not normal!

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 716,019 others!

maxverstappen1: recharging, done ✅

view comments below!

charles_lelcerc: what a cute funny looking child

maxverstappen1: ?

charles_leclerc: nothing…

user21: HE KNOWS

user22: it’s even funnier that charles 100% knows about the ‘cute funny looking child’ thing and just chose to not tell yn it’s max 😭

user23: yn will never live this down

user24: this is going to haunt yn for literally ever

user25: i PERSONALLY will never let her forget

user26: such a cute funny looking child

user27: max has got to be so confused rn

user28: is that a cute funny looking child i see???

user29: cute funny looking child max!!!!

user30: why is no one talking about how good max looks??

user31: i am. HE LOOKS GORGEOUS

danielricciadro: 😍😍

user32: you are handfeeding the shippers

user33: please, he IS the shipper

user34: cute funny looking child

user35: I AM SO CONFUSED BY THESE COMMENTS? WHAT IS GOING ON

user36: so basscialy

user37: what happened was

user38: many years ago

user39: it was a dark and gloomy night

. . .

. . .

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 619,916 others!

yourusername: this f1 thing is fun!

view comments below!

user40: you lucky son of a bitch!

charles_leclerc: can’t believe you went to a race for HIM 🤮 but not me…

yourusername: i didn’t go for HIM! i went because was invited!!!!

charles_leclerc: IVE INVITED YOU SO MANY TIMES AND YOU ALWAYS SAY NO

yourusername: LEAVE ME ALONE

user41: is ‘him’ MAX???

user42: it has to be

user43: YN AND MAX SHIPPERS ARE LIVING

maxverstappen1: you said you would post more baby pictures of me 😕

yourusername: you’re right in front of me? talk to me?

maxverstappen1: i want everyone to know that we’re on a date!

yourusername: we are?

user46: HUH

maxverstappen1: yes? i asked you on a date and you said yes?

user44: GIYS????

yourusername: i thought this was a friend thing…

user45: HWAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING

maxvertappen1: do all your friends buy you flowers when going out to eat?

user46: YOURE RIGHT IN FEONT OF RACHOTHRT??? STOP THIS?

yourusername: no…

maxverstappen1: exactly! now do you want dessert?

user47: i can’t…i’m sick to my stomach…i cannot

user48: what just happened

user49: i wish i knew

user50: okay so that just happened! now what?

. . .

here’s this before i disappear for a couple of weeks (maybe months?) i apologize but schools been keeping me busy AND i have books on wattpad that take up most of my time! im hopeful ill be able to post maybe once a month? nonetheless i hope you enjoyed this :)

[sunrizef1]

August

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Journalist!Reader

Warnings: none

Requested: Yes/No

Authors Note: Felt like I had abandoned y'all icl 😢

Pt 2

——

ynln

🎵 July - Hozier

liked by charles_leclerc nicorosberg and 1,008,771 others

ynln a european summer

load comments…

user1 who’s diva is this

user2 this is so aesthetic vibes

user3 need this life

user4 my favorite influencer (journalist)

user5 😍😍😍

user6 soft-launch ass slide four 🤨

lando stay away

ynln rat 😒

user7 love seeing drivers have positive interactions with journalists for once lol

user8 you thought the lando interaction was positive…? 😭

user9 she so pretty

liked by author

user10 Charles Leclerc spotted

maxfewtrell 😒

ynln and what did I do to you.

user11 ✨✨✨

rolemodel America misses u

ynln alright brandy melville

rolemodel ☹️

dualipa nice to meet you cutie!!!

ynln you’re so lovely 💕💕💕

user12 it’s so cute how Yn just fits right in in the celebrity spaces 😭

user13 right! She finds friends wherever she goes it’s so cute 😭

user14 now who’s the man on slide 4

——

ynln added to their close friends story

charles_leclerc liked your story ♥️

charles_leclerc replied to your story!

charles_leclerc

Now who took this picture of us ⁉️🤨

ynln

Lol the cafe owner next door airdropped to me

charles_leclerc

Oh wow that's adorable

ynln

I know right 😊

charles_leclerc

Now come back to bed

Its getting cold without you

ynln

I'm on my way 🙄

patience 🙏

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charles_leclerc

liked by ynln rolemodel and 3,456,781 others

charles_leclerc summer break

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user15 we should call men whores more often

user16 viva italia or whatever they say

user17 who taught this man to Pinterest post

user18 most of these pictures don’t have that fuckass filter on them… what’s changed

rolemodel ok diva

liked by author

user19 now why in the world is Tucker here

user20 the women’s swimsuits????

user21 right like what are we doing here

user22 now I know he didn’t take slide five

user23 the caption… where’s the flavor where’s the zest

lewishamilton now we lock in 💪

liked by author

user24 this Yn-ass post

user25 right, I know this man saw her post and decided to take some inspo

user26 over analyzing but who’s the woman in slide 8?

user27 friend or random stranger probably

user28 why include her in the pic then… just zoom in or crop her out

user29 right right right

user30 I’m losing it 🤩

user31 this post is so pretty

lando shouldve brought me

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charles_leclerc

where r u stationed this week

ynln

Spain

For a madrid game

charles_leclerc

so you're not coming this weekend?

ynln

It depends where they send me on the weekend

Maybe

charles_leclerc

mmmm

we’ll see then

ynln

yeah

we’ll see

——

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judebellingham replied to your story!

judebellingham

save an interview for me, yeah?

ynln

Well I'm only interviewing the winners… 🤔

judebellingham

good thing we’re not going to lose

ynln

You're confident

judebellingham

For good reason 😇

ynln

Don't u have a game to warm up for?

judebellingham

Yeah yeah

I'll see you out there

ynln

Good luck Jude

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ynln

🎵 Role Model - The Longest Goodbye

liked by rolemodel judebellingham and 2,345,109 others

ynln cause’ I don't think you love me anymore

tagged: judebellingham

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user32 wait... I'm sad??

user33 new York posting… that's how u know its bad

user34 omg hey Jude

user35 take a sad song and make it better or wtvr

user36 oh- the song-

rolemodel hey that's my song

ynln it is

user37 I love you yn

liked by author

dualipa beautiful girl 💕

ynln no u 💕

user38 this feels sad idk

user39 don't think I haven't noticed the coorelation between this and the dissapearence of her soft-launching

zendaya who needs a man anyway

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tomholland ?

user40 diva

judebellingham me mention

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user41 her interviews were much mess lively than usual I'm ngl

lando miss u

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maxfewtrell miss u

liked by author

user42 bestie role model mention

sabrinacarpenter come visit me!!!!!

ynln soon 🫶🏻

user43 outfits tea tho

liverpoolfc the team misses their favorite journalist!

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ynln

🎵 August - Taylor Swift

liked by masonmount ryangravenberch and 6,787,809 others

ynln you were never mine…. never mind

tagged: dominikszoboszlai ryangravenberch judebellingham & masonmount

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user44 hows the new job?

ynln its so fun!!!! I've had the best year of my life travelling all over and getting to explore my favourite sport in the world! These athletes have become so close to my heart and I've been so so happy 🫶

user45 these divas!!!

user45 yn! Whos been your favourite team to spend time with!

ynln I fear that if I say, the ones I don't pick will throw a tantrum 🤔

ynln (the uswnt) 🙈

judebellingham ????

trentarnold66 ???

alexismacallister ????

masonmount ????

lamineyamal ???

dominikszoboszlai im literally in this post

user46 she's looked so happy recently

user47 whats that caption mean

masonmount i look great there icl

ynln wrap it up

user48 need the goss

judebellingham the way you can't go three posts without including me… a clear fav

ynln my favorite is endo leave me alone

wataruendo 🤘

user49 THE FRIENDSHIPS SHES MADE!!!! 😫😫

user50 I'm so happy for her

user51 yn do you miss f1

ynln sometimes! I had a lot of fun and made a lot of friends but football has always been my first love 🫶

user51 would you ever go back?

ynln maybe! In the end, I left for a reason and I'm still not entirely ready to return :(

ynln maybe! I think I've moved past that chapter of my life but I never say never 💕

user52 August slipped away into a moment of time :(

user53 idek I miss August European vacation man

user54 bring yn back to her f1 babies

maxverstappen1 ...come back…?

liked by author

user55 max being the first one to bridge the gap between yn and her f1 history 🙃

lando are you happy?

ynln yeah, I am

lando I'm glad then :)

zendaya he's down you're up

ynln oh my god

user56 next question who's the mysterious man zendaya keeps commenting about

user57 hot take its an f1 driver.

user56 right right right

rolemodel august slipped away

ynln it really did

——

tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

[daxisyzz]

Just for you

Pairings: avenger!bucky barnes × avenger!reader

Summary: Bucky always catches you looking at him after you say something funny—because you love seeing him smile. But when a late-night conversation turns into something more, you realize he’s been looking at you for the same reason all along.

Based on this prompt I found on Pinterest :

Word count: 1.2k+

Tags: flooofy fluff, cute shenanigans, confessions, kisses.

Requests are open!!! Feel free to send them in

Bucky Barnes was a hard nut to crack. That was the general consensus among the Avengers. He was quiet, brooding, and had a knack for disappearing whenever things got too lively.

But you? You had somehow carved a space in his life, whether he’d meant to let you in or not.It started with small things—offering him a cup of coffee before he asked, handing him a protein bar during training, bumping his shoulder after a mission and saying, “Good job, Buckaroo.”

The first time you called him that, his face had twisted into a look of pure betrayal. Sam had laughed so hard he nearly fell off the couch.But you kept at it. Not pushing, just… being there. And somehow, Bucky started looking for you when you weren’t around.

Tonight, the team was gathered in the common room, decompressing after a long day. A terrible action movie played on the screen, and you were curled up in the corner of the couch, throwing out sarcastic commentary like it was your job.

“Oh, sure, let’s just casually outrun an explosion in six-inch heels,” you quipped, waving a hand at the screen.Steve shook his head with a smile, but it was Bucky you looked at. Always Bucky.

He was across the room, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest. At first glance, he looked like he wasn’t paying attention. But you knew better. The corner of his mouth twitched, and his eyes met yours, filled with something warm, something just for you.

Encouraged, you kept going. “Right, because bullets totally run out only when it’s dramatically convenient.”

This time, Bucky huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head, and—God, it was ridiculous how much it made your chest ache. You loved making him laugh. It was like finding a hidden treasure, a secret meant only for those who paid close enough attention.

A moment later, Sam tossed a handful of popcorn at Bucky. “See, man? This is why she’s fun and you’re just there.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but his gaze flickered to you again, like he was checking to see if you’d caught that. You had. And you grinned at him, knowing—just knowing—that he’d never admit it, but he liked your stupid jokes.Maybe even you.And if he kept looking at you like that? Yeah, you’d keep making them, just for him.

The weeks passed, and the game continued—your jokes, Bucky’s almost-smiles, the way you always looked at him after saying something funny, just to see if you’d won him over. And more often than not, you had.

But somewhere along the way, something shifted.It wasn’t just about making him laugh anymore. It was about how he always found the seat next to yours during movie nights. How he remembered exactly how you liked your coffee. How his fingers would brush yours when he handed you something, lingering just a little too long.

And you? You started memorizing the way his voice softened when he spoke to you, how his gaze lingered when he thought you weren’t looking. You started feeling it—him—in your bones.

It hit you one evening, when the two of you were alone in the kitchen. Everyone else had gone to bed, but Bucky had wandered in while you were making tea, his hair still damp from a shower, sweatpants hanging low on his hips.You didn’t know what made you say it—maybe the quiet, maybe the warmth of the tea in your hands—but you looked at him and blurted out, “I like it when you laugh.”

Bucky, who had been reaching for a glass, froze. His shoulders tensed for just a second before he turned to face you. “Yeah?”You nodded, gripping your mug a little tighter.

“It feels… rare. Special.” You exhaled a quiet laugh, suddenly nervous.

“Makes me feel like I won something.”

Something passed over his expression—something deep, something heavy. Then, slowly, he took a step closer.

“You don’t have to win,” he murmured.Your breath caught.

He was close now, close enough that you could see the little flecks of blue in his eyes, the way his lips parted just slightly, like he was weighing his next words carefully.

“I laugh because of you,” he admitted, voice low. “I look at you because… hell, I don’t even know how not to.”

The air between you felt charged, humming with something unspoken. You didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until he reached out, fingertips ghosting over your hand where it rested on the counter.

And just like that, you knew. This wasn’t just teasing anymore. It wasn’t just banter or stolen glances across the room. It was him. It was you.

Bucky’s fingertips barely brushed yours, but it was enough to send a shiver down your spine.You swallowed, heart hammering. “Bucky…”His name came out softer than you intended, like a confession. His lips twitched, just the tiniest bit, but his eyes—God, his eyes were so intense, like he was memorizing every inch of you.Then, so quietly you barely heard it, he murmured,

“Say something funny.”You blinked.

“What?”Bucky huffed a breath, his gaze flickering to your lips.

“You always look at me after you say something funny. I like it.”Your stomach flipped.

He was so unfair. Here you were, on the verge of spontaneous combustion, and he was just standing there, waiting—wanting.

You took a breath, trying to focus.“Okay. How about… yesterday?”

Bucky raised a brow. “Yesterday?”

You nodded, biting back a grin. “When Sam tried to show off during training and did that stupid flip, but his foot caught on Steve’s shield?”Bucky exhaled a short laugh, lips twitching.

“And then,” you continued, eyes dancing with amusement, “he went down like a sack of potatoes and just laid there for a full minute, groaning dramatically.”

That did it. A deep, quiet chuckle rumbled from Bucky’s chest, his eyes crinkling at the corners. And just like always, you looked at him, waiting to catch it, to feel it—But this time, Bucky didn’t let you get away with just that.Before you could blink, his hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face up, and then—warm, soft, Bucky—his lips met yours.

It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t desperate. It was slow, deliberate, like he wanted to savor every second. His fingers curled against your jaw, his other hand resting against the counter, caging you in but never making you feel trapped. Just held.

You melted into him, hands fisting into the fabric of his sweatshirt as his lips moved against yours, unhurried and unbearably sweet. And when he finally pulled back, just enough to meet your gaze, there was that look again—like you were something precious.

“You always look at me after you say something funny,” he murmured, thumb brushing over your cheek. “Thought I should give you something to look forward to.”You huffed a breathless laugh, still dazed.

“You’re ridiculous.”

Bucky smirked, leaning in again, his nose brushing yours. “Yeah? Tell me another.”

You did. And this time, when you looked at him, he kissed you all over again.

[pencil-n-pen]

SUDDENLY I HAD A VALENTINE

𓏲𝄢 ⋆. ୨୧ ˚⋆ 𓏲𝄢

post prison!spencer x hopeless romantic! civilian!reader

masterlist | kofi

i’ve rejected affection for years and years, now I have it, and damnit, it’s kind of weird

Valentine, Laufey

summary: spencer reid isn’t a genius or renowned criminal profiler- he’s just the guy who frequents the same coffee shop you do; the guy you’re probably, maybe, a little bit in love with. But you’re not the kind of girl guys like him like— right?

cw: honestly genuinely cannot think of any this one is just soft and sweet (with a touch of angst bc it’s me)

tags/tropes: strangers to lovers, spencer is so whipped, reader is a hopeless romantic, spencer finds this cute, romance novel references (i have read a LOT of them), no colleen hoover jumpscares, however there are of ali hazelwood references bc Love Theoretically is my favorite romance book of all time

a/n: something short and sweet !! trying to get over my perfectionism by just posting <3

title taken from Valentine by Laufey (GO LISTEN TO LAUFEY)

𓏲𝄢

There’s a coffee shop within a twenty minute walk from your apartment that you like to go to. It’s more a cafe, really. They’ve got a little case with a small selection of pastries and such, as well as a nice, calm little atmosphere. Cozy.

You’d decided that you wanted to read more. You’d always enjoyed it, before—

Before. And now that you have more free time on your hands, you’d thought “what better time for some good old fashioned escapism?”

Your tbr pile was a mile long and you’d found the coffee shop and it seemed like a perfect little scenario.

That was probably about a year ago. Things are different now. Not in a bad way, just the way that things change as time goes on. You’d ended up moving apartments- somewhere smaller, but you’d gained a window that overlooks the street, so win, you’d switched jobs —you work from home now— and you’d kept your nose firmly away from any and all real life romantic endeavors.

Almost all of your friends you’d met through your ex. The unfortunate thing about that is when you broke up, they were more attached to him than you, so things got a little… lonely. You have other friends, of course, but most of them have busy lives— boyfriends, husbands, kids, successful jobs, travel. You text them when you can, hang out when they’re available, but you spend most of your day, everyday alone.

You’d struggled a lot, at first. But then you take a page out of all of your books: romanticize a quiet life.

You’d stared at your empty apartment, your new desk set up for your job and decided to romanticize the shit out of your new life.

It was slow going at first. You didn’t really know how to get started, what you wanted your life to look like, so the first few months were spent primarily on Pinterest. But ideas formed, plans were made, rooms were carefully designed and days were quietly spent.

Which leads you to where you are now: a mostly lone woman leading her ideal, romanticized life. Romance books, working from home, coffee shops and thrifted sweaters and everything on your Pinterest board. You’d picked up (and dropped) several hobbies, everything from scrapbook journaling to watercolor painting to simple embroidery and sewing. You adore the lopsided and ugly-cute DIY Jellycat rabbit (appropriately named Elizabeth Bennet.)

It’d taken a year, but you felt safe and comfortable again. And throughout this entire process, you still managed to avoid or kill any attraction you’ve had for any passing man.

Except Spencer, or as you’ve dubbed him in your head, Hot Coffee Shop Guy.

You only know his name because the barista’s call it out when he takes his coffee to go, which he doesn’t always do. Sometimes he takes his coffee or tea in the cafe, sits at the same table in the far corner (almost directly across from you, as you like to sit right next to the large windows at the front of the cafe) and read.

You and him read very different books. Sometimes he reads large, thick textbooks. Sometimes he reads dusty old books. Sometimes the things he reads aren’t even in English. A very stark contrast to your fine readings of Ali Hazelwood, Elsie Silver, and Anna Huang.

Ever since you can remember, you’ve had a thing for guys who read. Not casual reading, but reading-reading. And you can’t help but think you compliment each other in aesthetic— you with your brightly colored romance books and cozy clothes, soft and cute in that way that screams “I listen to Laufey”, and him with his old books and faint smell of pine and his button downs and grandpa cardigans, looking like he listens to Tchaikovsky and The Swan by Camille Saint-Saëns.

And it’s kind of fun to daydream about. You’d never act on it, of course, guys who look as hot as him don’t seriously go for girls like you, but it’s easy to read The Love Hypothesis and imagine yourself as Olive and him as Adam.

And then he starts saying hi.

Which, okay, admittedly, is not much. But besides the barista’s —whom he’s come to recognize and strike up conversations with— you’re the only person in the cafe he says hi too. Even though there are other regulars he no doubt recognizes.

Even when he takes his coffee to go, he gives you a little wave. It’s become your thing. A “hello” if he stays and a wave if he goes.

It’s a nice little thing to have, is the problem. Who doesn’t want a jaw-droppingly hot man to make time out of his day to say hi to you specifically?

But it won’t go anywhere. Even if you hadn’t sworn off love until you’re in your mid-thirties, you’d be too shy to actually do anything about it.

You’ve seen how this goes down. He waves, you smile, you work your way up to going up to him, and he either has a girlfriend or isn’t interested. And even if, for some reason he is interested, he won’t stay interested.

So there isn’t a point to entertaining it, but you still do.

It’s fun. A little change in routine. A star-burst of excitement in your usual unchanging schedule.

—

Apparently, just because you’ve sworn off romance, doesn’t mean the universe has sworn off romance for you.

You’re at the cafe as usual, book in front of you and scrapbook behind your coffee. You’re considering making a coffee ring stain page, but you’re worried about mold and the possibility of it ruining other pages.

It’s late evening, the usual time Spencer comes in, and you’d preemptively ordered a ham and swiss croissant because you tend to end up too self conscious to get up or move around too much when he sits down, which is stupid, because he isn’t even looking at you.

He walks in right after you sit back down from ordering, so you entertain yourself with Love On the Brain so you don’t catch yourself staring at the soft brown curls and light stubble on his jawline. It’s very addicting, staring at him. He just has one of those stupidly attractive faces that beg to be stared at.

Today, he offers you a little wave, dipping down to catch your vision and a little “good evening,” as he goes by.

Wow. A wave and a hello. He must be in a good mood.

One of the barista’s —Sarah, she has two cats— drops off your croissant and rushes away, a hand pressed to her mouth, which is odd. She usually lingers so she can show you new pictures of Tweedle Dee and Microwave (her two cat’s names, respectively.)

You look down at the plate and notice a little something sticking out under the croissant. It’s their business card, but it’s upside down, and something’s written on it.

You take the little piece of cardstock, carefully reading the words written in scrawling but strangely delicate handwriting:

You look really cute today.

-Spencer

Ho. Lee. Shit.

You stare at the card, reading it and reading it and reading it and reading it and reading it and then reading it one more time, just in case.

But the words don’t change.

You look up at him, face hot, and make eye contact with Spencer. Who’s looking right back at you, textbook open on the table in front of him and a small smirk on his face.

You look back down at the table.

See, you don’t really get flirted with often. Or ever, really. You’d grown up watching early 2000s rom-com’s and then started reading romance novels in late highschool, so the disappointing reality once you hit 20 that you’d never had a boyfriend and the most romance you experience is in your head was something you had to adjust to. You’d had crushes of course, but then never went anywhere. And the few times they did never ended well. Hence the total life makeover after you last break-up.

You’ve never really experienced cute romance. Nothing like looks across a cafe and notes passed by barista’s.

He doesn’t come over and strike up a conversation, which you’re thankful for. That would be too much. He goes back to his reading, and you press the note into the pages of your book and pretend to go back to yours.

You don’t end up doing much reading that day.

—

It becomes a new thing. The notes. He doesn’t write them all the time, and they don’t always come with whatever pastry you’ve ordered. Sometimes they’re tucked under your coffee on its saucer, sometimes he slips them silently onto your table. But you always tuck them into whatever book you’re reading, so the way it’s worked out is that there’s little pieces of Spencer spread throughout a good portion of the books you own.

I like your sweater.

I think that hairstyle suits you.

Maybe we should trade books one day. Any chance you can read French?

You always look so cozy in your little spot.

Have I ever told you I think you’re pretty? (Joking, I know I have, just wanted to say it again.)

You were right about those ham and swiss croissants.

How do you get your annotations to look so pretty?

I like it when you smile.

It’s a lot. It’s tempting.

The little notes and his smile have (pathetically easily) wormed their way into your affection. You’re both afraid to get more and unwilling to go back to your normal life. You should, by all means. Appreciate the notes and then let this entire thing sail right on by.

So you do exactly what you always do when something like this happens. Consult your friends.

“He’s been giving you notes?” Penelope gasps, hand on her chest, “Hot coffee shop guy has been giving you notes, flirty notes and you’ve haven’t given him a single one?”

“I’m nervous!” You exclaim, face hot. “There are so many ways this could go wrong, and not just romantically. What if I take off the rose colored glasses and there’s this… this person who isn’t at all like I thought he’d be?”

Her expression gets a little sad at your words, and she reaches across the table to take your hand. “Okay, first of all, I have never known you to wear rose colored glasses. You’re a romantic, but you’re also too logical for that. Secondly, and I’m saying this because I love you, you need to get over yourself.”

You blink. “What?”

“No, really! You’ve concocted this entire, horrific scenario in your head about this guy who you haven’t even officially spoken to. You’re getting waaaaay ahead of yourself.”

“I know,” You look down at the cup of coffee you’ve been sipping on. Coffee at your apartment isn’t as exciting as coffee from the cafe, but Penelope wanted to hang at your place to catch up when you called her. “But I just keep thinking- what if the same thing happens again?”

She rolls her eyes, but the action is fond. “And what if it doesn’t? You’ve gotta try, babycakes. That’s what the whole romance thing is about. Taking the risk.”

“But risks are scary.” You whine.

“They are,” She says, laughing now, “But they’re also fun. I think you should give it a shot. At least hear the poor man out before you condemn him to being an axe murderer.”

“I don’t think he’s an axe murderer,” You say, “I think he might secretly be a self absorbed dick.”

“Trust me. I’m pretty sure in this case, the chances of that are pretty low.”

—

The next time you go to the cafe, Spencer is in fact there. So you push through your racing heart and sweaty palms and all the thoughts in your head that scream that is a bad idea and you take the little folded piece of paper and ask the barista to give it to him with his coffee.

Your deliberated over what to write in the note for a long time. Probably too long considering the fact that if this goes well, you’ll be writing more. But in the end, your favorite pen in hand, you’d written out a simple little:

Hi. I think your sweaters look really nice too. ♡

You’d felt like you were back in elementary school— giggling and passing notes. Unlike elementary school, though, the note passing doesn’t end in mild humiliation or heartbreak.

When he gets the note, he looks up at you, the same surprised expression on his face that you wore when you’d received his note the first time. Then, he looks down, reads it, and you get the honor of watching the most kissable blush spread across his cheeks as he readjusts his sweater.

It becomes your little thing. Your new little thing.

It’s easy to slip into, this cute little routine with Spencer.

Penelope has other thoughts on the matter.

“Sweetheart,” She says, and you can’t see her expression over the phone, but you can picture the set of her brows and the downturn of her lips, “I’m so glad you took that first scary leap and sent him a note back. But it’s been a month. Don’t you think it’s time to pick up the pace?”

“I’m taking it slow.” You say, voice half muffled by your scarf. It’s getting colder and colder and you wish the cold snap would just snap and snow already. If it’s going to be freezing, it might as well be freezing and pretty.

“No, you’re stalling. I swear to you, if I don’t hear about a date by the end of this week I’m going to go down there and ask him out for you.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that.”

“Exactly. Okay, I have to go. Love you bye!”

The dial tone sounds and you slide your phone into your pocket, further burying your face into your scarf.

You’re not really watching your surroundings as you approach the cafe, the walk too familiar, so when a hand larger than yours reaches for the door handle at the same time, you glance up in surprise.

“Sorry—“ Oh.

It’s Spencer.

He smiles at you, the same, really nice smile that you desperately want to kiss.

“Shame that our first official word together was ‘sorry’.”

You feel your face heat despite the chill outside. “Not true. I think it was actually hello.”

His smile widens. “Hello to you too.”

You blink. “Oh. Oh, I see what you did there.”

He nods to the door. “Do you want to head inside then? It’s a bit chilly out here.”

“Yeah,” A smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

He opens the door. “After you.”

So maybe taking the first leap won’t be that scary after all.

[skywalkerslvt]

Rough Ride (so rough)

❥Pairing: RE2!Leon x AFAB!Reader

❥Summary: What happens when you have to sit on Leon's lap for a very long and bumpy car ride? Leon's pants get soaked 😍

❥CW: 18+, smut, sub!leon, dry humping, cumming in pants, overstimulation, crying kink, semi-public sex, sorta non-con at first? but both parties are consenting, 1.6k words

❥a/n: can you guys tell how much I like dry humping from the amount of times it shows up in all my fics? anyways RE2 Leon is so subby i need to make him cry so I wrote this. Also my requests are open if any of u leon sluts wanna request something 👀 Hope you guys enjoy! <3 pics are from pinterest

Leon Kennedy was utterly fucked. Both literally and figuratively. He was approximately one hour into the grand camping trip that your shared group of friends had planned, and it was already off to a bumpy start.

It started with the excessive amount of luggage you and Claire had decided to pack. The trunk was bursting at the seams, and the backseat was already crammed with more than it could reasonably hold, leaving the driver seat, the passenger seat, and a single seat in the back free for its intended use.

With Chris driving and Claire staking her claim on the passenger seat, that left you and Leon with the single seat to share.

And when you whispered a seductive “I guess we’ll have to make do,” with a mischievous glint in your eye, Leon knew he was done for.

Before he could respond, he was shoved into the car, barely even registering that you were manoeuvring yourself into his lap, carefully trying to find a comfortable position.

At first, Leon was awkward. It wasn’t every day that the girl he had a massive crush on was situated on his lap, and especially not for a 2 hour long drive like this one. But as you leaned against him and whispered a soft “Relax,” he eventually settled in, wrapping his arms around your waist and propping his chin on your shoulder.

The first hour was fine, enjoyable even. Leon had managed to stave off a massive boner, and everyone had been happy despite the luggage situation. But issues started to arise as Chris turned the car onto a bumpy gravel path in the woods.

“We’re gonna be on this trail for about an hour and then we'll be at our camping spot. It might get a bit bumpy,” Chris muttered quietly, not wanting to wake up his sister who had dozed off against the window.

As the car drove deeper into the forest, the road became more uneven, causing you to bounce slightly in Leon’s lap. His cock started to twitch, the boner he managed to avoid coming to as all his attention was focused on that single point where your ass was softly bouncing on his cock.

Leon was flushed head to toe, his teeth worrying his lower lip as the rate of his breathing increased. His cock was now fully hard and leaking pre-cum in his boxers, and by some miracle, you hadn't noticed. Needing to feel more friction, he pushed his hips up slightly, softly grinding his hard dick against your ass, playing it off as shifting to a more comfortable position. He felt like such a pervert, getting off against your ass while you were completely oblivious, but the weight of you on top of him felt too good to stop.

He had managed not to make a sound, harshly biting down against his surely bruised lip any time he felt like moaning, but when Chris hit a particularly hard bump, causing you to bounce harshly back into his cock, he let out a barely audible whimper, right against your neck.

Leon stiffened, panicking as he was sure he got caught. You were going to realize what he had been doing, and you'd think he was a disgusting pervert, never wanting to see him again.

But as you turned your head slightly, concern etched on your features, and asked him if he was okay, Leon went lax with relief. You didn’t know.

“Y-yeah- Sorry I was just startled by the bump,” he stammered out.

You smiled softly, seemingly unaware of the turmoil raging inside him. “It's okay. These roads are pretty rough. Just hold onto me if you need to, okay?”

Leon swallowed hard, nodding. “Sure, thanks.” You leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, then turned back around and shifted your hips, moving in a more comfortable position. Leon’s hold around your waist tightened and his dick twitched at the feeling of you moving against him.

The car continued to jostle along the uneven path, each bump sending another wave of sensation through Leon’s body. He tried to focus on anything else–the trees whipping past outside, the sound of Chris humming along to the radio, the soft snores of Claire asleep in the front–but his mind kept coming back to the warmth and pressure of you against his twitching cock.

Desperate to maintain some semblance of control, Leon shifted slightly, trying to find a position that would ease his arousal. It was useless. Every movement, every slight adjustment only heightened the friction, the pressing of your body against him his own personal torture.

Minutes felt like hours as the car bumped along the trail, each jolt a reminder of the situation Leon found himself in. To make matters worse, you began shifting, unknowingly pushing your ass against his cock continuously, and Leon couldn't help himself. He just had to cum, so he began grinding against you again, timing his thrusts with your shifting.

He closed his eyes as his thrusts got sloppier, the building heat in his gut reaching its peak. He knew he couldn't hold out for much longer, and he was careless with his sounds, his heavy breathing against your neck becoming louder and louder.

Leon's body tensed, and with a muffled groan, he came, his cock twitching as he spilled into his pants. Relief washed over him, but it was short-lived as the car continued to jostle along the path, your ass still bouncing in his lap, overstimulating his already sensitive cock.

His breathing grew ragged, and tears began to well up in his eyes. He couldn't take it anymore, the friction becoming unbearable, and he bit his lip hard, trying to stifle his whimpers.

Despite the overstimulation, the continued friction of your ass bouncing against him caused his cock to twitch and harden once more, much to his confusion and frustration. The sensations were too much to handle; his body was a mess of sensitivity and arousal, and he couldn't stop the tears that began to spill down his cheeks.

Leon's mind was a haze of pleasure and pain, the overstimulation blending into a desperate need for more. His hips involuntarily thrust upward, seeking more friction, even though it was torturous. Each bounce of your ass pushed him closer to the edge again, and he couldn't understand how he could be this turned on despite having just cum.

Minutes felt like hours, and Leon's body was on the brink of collapse. The continued friction, combined with his heightened sensitivity, pushed him to the edge once more. He tried to stay silent, but soft whimpers escaped his lips, tears streaming down his face as he clung to you, desperate and needy.

Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, you turned your head slightly, a smirk playing on your lips.

The realization hit him like a freight train—you knew. You had known all along. Your smirk widened as you watched him, your eyes dark with arousal.

You leaned in, your breath hot against his ear as you whispered, "You've been such a good boy, Leon."

Leon's breath hitched, his body trembling as your words sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock. He was overwhelmed, his senses on overdrive as you licked the tears from his face, your tongue tracing a path along his cheek.

Without warning, you began grinding against him, your hips moving in slow, deliberate circles. The friction was maddening, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his overstimulated cock. Leon's hands tightened around your waist, his nails digging into your skin as he fought to hold on.

"You like this, don't you?" you murmured, your voice dripping with teasing amusement. "Getting hard again so soon after cumming. Such a needy boy."

Leon could only nod, his voice failing him as you continued to grind against him, each movement sending him spiraling further into a state of desperate arousal. He was completely at your mercy, and he loved every second of it.

Your pace quickened, and Leon's breath came in short, ragged gasps. Each grind of your hips sent jolts of pleasure through his overstimulated body, and he clung to you as if you were his lifeline. His tears mingled with sweat, his entire world narrowing down to the intoxicating friction and your teasing whispers in his ear.

With a final, deliberate roll of your hips, you sent him over the edge again. Leon's body convulsed, his cries muffled against your shoulder as he came for the second time, his cock throbbing and spilling more cum into his already-soaked pants. His tears of overstimulation turned to tears of overwhelming pleasure, his entire being consumed by the raw, intense sensations. You held him tightly, a satisfied smirk on your lips as you licked away his tears, savoring the sweet taste of his submission.

As the last waves of his orgasm subsided, you continued to move gently, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from his exhausted body.

Leaning in close, you kissed him tenderly, a silent promise of many more games to come. In that moment, Leon knew he was utterly and completely yours, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

When they finally pulled up to the cabin, Chris hadn't even fully parked before Leon threw you off his lap and bolted for the door. His face was a deep shade of crimson, and he mumbled a halfhearted excuse about needing to use the washroom, doing his best to conceal the completely soaked front of his pants. As he disappeared inside, you couldn't help but laugh softly, the image of his flustered expression etched in your mind. You exchanged a knowing glance with Claire, who raised an eyebrow in silent question. Smiling innocently, you shrugged, already anticipating the next opportunity to tease Leon further.