#as is everyone on this site huh?

[omnivoric]

Its love

You think the love of people like me is unpure

Evil

Disgusting

Maybe it is

But its love

Every kind of love can be that way

Every kind of love

can be as dirty as

A public toilet

When you don't wash your hair for a month

A backalley dumpster

Or

It can be as pure as

the first ray of sunshine

A babys first laughter

Newly fallen snow

It doesn't really matter who you love

More so how you love that person

-nivo

[cecoeur]

Fun for fanfic and all. But in no reality, Max irl would ever think of that Martin post. It has been 8 hours, almost half the drivers on the grid posted about him. Pierre fucking gasly did it, of all people! And we are to think Max is tossing and turning in his sleep over Daniel? No, you know where he is? He is bloody streaming. Yeah, when his organisation is nailing the final nails to Daniel’s legacy (after they have done the same to Daniel’s career) all he had to offer was a comment on daniel’s post. Daniel was good for him as long as he picked up that one point that his shitty teammate couldn’t do. Max, like the rest of red bull, will think of Daniel as a footnote for their “bigger picture”.

Listen. This is not going to be an eloquent response but here goes. I get that you’re upset but this take…it ain’t it, bud.

The absolute last person I’m worried about having Daniel’s back in this or any situation is Max Verstappen. Max has been a genuine friend to Daniel from the beginning and equating his social media engagement or him living his life (?) to his level of love or respect for Daniel as a person and a driver is shortsighted and incredibly unfair.

Max was THE only person in the RedBull “family” over the weekend supporting Daniel during what was clearly a mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausting weekend. We heard and saw proof of that on multiple occasions.

If you don’t want to take my word for it, take Daniel’s. He said many times in multiple interviews after the race on Sunday (and before) what max has done for him and meant to him over the years.

Most of all I think it’s important to remember that just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. The most meaningful interactions are not broadcast for the entire internet to see and consume because quiet frankly that’s not the fucking point.

[pasdetrois]

when are we as a society going to discuss the lear/cordelia and prospero/miranda parallels...

[russellius]

Why do you have to be so anti everyone? you have a really good blog but it's just not fun anymore

... what 🧍🏻‍♀️

[235uranium]

ik ppl joke about tumblr users having bad taste in music but i never took it seriously since i do like most of the popular ones. but holy shit there's some wild takes on that music poll

[squipdop]

ngl getting blocked by a person with a canon url is kind of hilarious. i feel like i stepped on my blorbos toes one too many times

[undead-moth]

Because this is such an excellent post I'm going to try to keep my infodump here brief but I can't pass it up:

Whether or not something that happens within a story is "realistic" is determined by an agreement made between the writer and the audience in the premise.

The writer establishes the rules of the world and promises not to break them as long as you, the audience, promise to believe anything that happens without breaking them is real even if they aren't plausible or possible (re: realistic) in real life.

This is where the term "suspension of disbelief" comes from. If the writer asks you to suspend your disbelief higher than they initially promised in the premise, that means they broke one of the rules, and something has happened that goes against what you agreed to believe is plausible or possible for the purposes of immersing yourself in the story. If a story asks you to suspend your disbelief too high from the outset, that means something about this story is just too implausible or impossible as a premise for you to immerse yourself in personally.

When something "unrealistic" happens within a story, it very specifically refers to what shouldn't be plausible or possible within the story's universe -

It does not refer to what is implausible or impossible in real life.

This is why criticism of tragedies, horror, and musicals are often missing the point, and don't offer productive analysis. It doesn't matter if someone in real life would "wait a few minutes" to see if Juliet wakes up. It doesn't matter if losing cell service is "convenient." It doesn't matter if no one "bursts into song" in real life. None of these genres have the same rules as real life and they're not meant to.

If these genres are asking you to suspend your disbelief higher than you're able to, it's fair to not be a fan of them. It's not fair to insist all of these genres actually suck just because they don't conform to the specific height at which you personally prefer a story to suspend your disbelief.

This is a dangerous sentiment for me to express, as an editor who spends most of my working life telling writers to knock it off with the 45-word sentences and the adverbs and tortured metaphors, but I do think we're living through a period of weird pragmatic puritanism in mainstream literary taste.

e.g. I keep seeing people talk about 'purple prose' when they actually mean 'the writer uses vivid and/or metaphorical descriptive language'. I've seen people who present themselves as educators offer some of the best genre writing in western canon as examples of 'purple prose' because it engages strategically in prose-poetry to evoke mood and I guess that's sheer decadence when you could instead say "it was dark and scary outside". But that's not what purple prose means. Purple means the construction of the prose itself gets in the way of conveying meaning. mid-00s horse RPers know what I'm talking about. Cerulean orbs flash'd fire as they turn'd 'pon rollforth land, yonder horizonways. <= if I had to read this when I was 12, you don't get to call Ray Bradbury's prose 'purple'.

I griped on here recently about the prepossession with fictional characters in fictional narratives behaving 'rationally' and 'realistically' as if the sole purpose of a made-up story is to convince you it could have happened. No wonder the epistolary form is having a tumblr renaissance. One million billion arguments and thought experiments about The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas that almost all evade the point of the story: that you can't wriggle out of it. The narrator is telling you how it was, is and will be, and you must confront the dissonances it evokes and digest your discomfort. 'Realistic' begins on the author's terms, that's what gives them the power to reach into your brain and fiddle about until sparks happen. You kind of have to trust the process a little bit.

This ultra-orthodox attitude to writing shares a lot of common ground with the tight, tight commodification of art in online spaces. And I mean commodification in the truest sense - the reconstruction of the thing to maximise its capacity to interface with markets. Form and function are overwhelmingly privileged over cloudy ideas like meaning, intent and possibility, because you can apply a sliding value scale to the material aspects of a work. But you can't charge extra for 'more challenging conceptual response to the milieu' in a commission drive. So that shit becomes vestigial. It isn't valued, it isn't taught, so eventually it isn't sought out. At best it's mystified as part of a given writer/artist's 'talent', but either way it grows incumbent on the individual to care enough about that kind of skill to cultivate it.

And it's risky, because unmeasurables come with the possibility of rejection or failure. Drop in too many allegorical descriptions of the rose garden and someone will decide your prose is 'purple' and unserious. A lot of online audiences seem to be terrified of being considered pretentious in their tastes. That creates a real unwillingness to step out into discursive spaces where you 🫵 are expected to develop and explore a personal relationship with each element of a work. No guard rails, no right answers. Word of god is shit to us out here. But fear of getting that kind of analysis wrong makes people hove to work that slavishly explains itself on every page. And I'm left wondering, what's the point of art that leads every single participant to the same conclusion? See Spot run. Run, Spot, run. Down the rollforth land, yonder horizonways. I just want to read more weird stuff.

[zuxigo]

sometimes I hear about immigrant/diaspora groups that make me go

[eli-am-confused]

hi maybe dont say weird stuff in the rbs of an art post. just a thought

Hi! I probably shouldn’t and wouldn’t normally replay to stuff like this but as you’re in anonymous so I don’t know who’s work I should stop commenting on and in case anyone else thought the same I’d like to clear the air. Say sorry and give my reasonings I guess.

If you are an artist and i made you uncomfortable by saying odd stuff when reblogging then feel free to message me to tell me and I won’t do it again for your art. I’d also like the chance to properly apologize in the right context to what I’ve said. When I rb something it’s cause I really enjoy it and when I say stuff it’s cause I have a lot of thoughts and need to get them out, but if you’re uncomfortable with me doing that with your art I totally get that. It’s no big deal or a problem at all for me to stop.

For me when I make art and people say weird stuff when rbing (wanting to eat it our squish a blorbo or throw blorbo against a wall or just having thoughts on the general idea of the post) I personally actually get really excited about it because I get to hear others thoughts and it makes me feel they enjoy what I made all that much more rather than someone just rbing with nothing or the general tags that apply (any form of rbing is loved and cherished very deeply don’t get me wrong, sometimes you’re just not in the mood to write or just can’t think of anything to say and that’s ok I get like that too). (I do thank everyone that has ever reblogged my work or messaged me to tell me they like my work. I just get shy and don’t know how to respond but I do keep it very close to my heart every time)

I’d also like to say that if you’re not an artist who is uncomfortable with me adding my two cents on your art then you simply don’t have to be on my blog. In fact, no one has to read what I have to say at all, that being someone who I’m rbing from or not. Easy fix there.

But again if you are an artist just message me and I won’t do it again for your work. For ANYONE who I have ever reblogged from who didn’t particularly like what I had to say, I am sorry and please just tell me. This isn’t meant to be an attack or anything I mean everything very genuinely, the last thing I want to do is make someone supper uncomfortable. So please just tell me if I’m going too far.

Sorry about the odd post I just think this deserves to be addressed as I have had the thought that I may have gone too far on occasion. And very often don’t remember what I’ve said even just hours later.

[smallteacake]

fuck "AI" and fuck all of you assholes who keep stealing people's work to train it on.

[roboticskulls]

rrrrrrrRRRRGAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

[cameronsprincess]

Office Hours — R.C

request: Hi!! Can you write like a CEO rafe and his wife who comes to visit him at the office and he fucks her on his desk where everybody can hear her moaning his name and then he walks out all smug, leaving for the day to continue pleasing his wife at home (from anon)

CW: CEO!Rafe, wife!reader, semi public sex(?), unprotected sex, choking, slapping, degrading, breeding kink. and i think that’s it.

likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated<3

note: CEO Rafe is so sexy to me, and this is an NYC AU, not in the OBX💞

Rafe always loved when you came to visit him at work. Your husband had a very busy schedule, multiple meetings, business trips, and visiting location sites for new businesses he wanted to open up.

It was a rarity that you caught him in the office, alone and with some time to spare for you.

So when he called you today, asking you to come in to the office to see him, you jumped on the opportunity.

“Mrs. Cameron, he’s in his office waiting on you.”

You smile at Rafe’s assistant, nodding your head as you make your way down the long hallway of the building. Reaching the end of the hall, you stand in front of his office door, Rafe Cameron, CEO, is in big bold letters across the middle.

You push the door open, — not bothering to knock since he knows you’re coming — and find him sitting behind his desk, his office phone tucked between his shoulder and ear as he spoke sternly to whoever was on the other end.

He looks up, bright blue eyes finding yours as he smiles softly, “I gotta call you back.” he says to whoever was on the other end of the line, hanging up before they can even respond.

“Hi beautiful.” he says, smiling and standing from behind his desk, making his way toward you.

You smile widely, shutting the door behind you and meeting his steps, wrapping your arms around his neck and lifting on your toes to kiss his lips. “Hi handsome, I’ve missed you.”

Rafe melts against your lips, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth as he deepens the kiss. His hands slide down your body, wrapping around your waist, large hands gripping your ass firmly through your tight black leggings.

He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on yours and smiling. “I’ve missed you baby, I promise, I’ll take some time off soon and we’ll go to the house in the Bahamas, spend some real time together, okay?”

You smile up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth as you nod your head in agreement. Rafe dips his head down, his lips finding yours again and slowly kissing you.

His tongue makes its way into your mouth again, brushing with yours as his hands begin roaming the expanse of your body. You moan softly into his mouth when his fingertips rub against your clothed thighs. It’d been a few days since you’d had your husband, and you were craving him, in more ways than one.

“Rafe, I need you.”

He smiles against your lips, backing the two of you up until your back hits a wall. He presses his hips into you, the feel of his already hard cock pressed against your clothed core making your breath catch in your throat.

“Yeah? My wife wanna be fucked in my office? Let everyone hear how good I make her feel?”

You suck in a sharp breath, mumbling a one word response, “Yes.”

His eyes darken and he places his hands on the underside of your ass, lifting you up and forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you over to his desk, setting your ass down on the sleek wood surface. You watch him intently as he undoes the buttons of his shirt, pulling it off and leaving his broad, tanned chest and abdomen on display.

You reach out to run your fingers down his abs, but he slaps your hands away. “Nuh uh, baby. No touching.”

You frown, letting out a frustrated sigh that makes Rafe smirk. “You gonna be a fuckin’ brat? Huh? Just let me know, I can make you wait if that’s what you want..”

Your eyes go wide, shaking your head fast as you say, “No no no, ‘m sorry baby, I just… I need to feel you.”

He smirks, popping the button on his black dress slacks before working the zipper and shoving them down his legs, letting the material pool at his feet. Your eyes trail from his face down to his tight black boxer briefs, the hard, thick outline of his cock pressed firmly against the thin material.

“See something you want baby?” he teases, placing his right hand over his hard-on, squeezing himself lightly, a low, raspy groan escaping him.

Your thighs squeeze together, your eyes glued on his hard dick. “Yes. Want your cock, need to feel you stretch me, please.”

Rafe growls, taking one long step toward you. His fingers dig into the waistband of your leggings, ripping them down your legs. He hisses in a breath when he sees you’d opted for no panties today.

“Fuck, you plan this? To come in here and seduce me during office hours?” 

You can’t contain the mischievous smirk that spreads across your lips. “Maybeeee.”

“Mhm, my wife is such a fucking slut. I love it.”

You open your mouth to respond, but Rafe slapping your cheek has you gasping instead. The sting from his hand has more arousal pooling between your legs, and you whine, your clit throbbing with need.

“Rafe, please. Fuck me. I need to feel you inside me, it’s been four days, I-”

Rafe shuts you up, his lips aggressively finding yours. He wraps his fingers into the back of your hair, pulling your head back to allow him better access to your mouth. His tongue finds yours, fighting for dominance while his free hand slides its way under your ass, lifting you up just enough so your soaked cunt is level with his hard dick.

He tightens his grip in your hair, pulling your lips from his as his darkened over eyes find yours. “Ready for me baby?”

You whimper out a small “yes” and he removes his hand from your hair, using the now free hand to grip his cock in his hands. He strokes himself softly, spitting down onto the base and spreading it around his length with his hand.

He scoots your ass further down the desk, running his swollen head through your arousal slick entrance before he slowly pushes into you. You hiss in a breath, squeezing your eyes shut as he continues to push into you agonizingly slow.

“Fuck sweet girl, you’re so fucking tight and wet.”

A loud moan slips past your lips, the feel of his thick cock stretching you out making your brain short circuit.

“F-ffffuck, Rafe. Please move, need to- need to feel you move..”

A low growl rumbles in Rafe’s chest, and he slowly pulls out, slamming himself back inside of your warm, wet cunt. You gasp loudly, screaming his name as you wrap your arms around his neck, your nails digging into the soft skin of his back.

Rafe begins to roughly pound himself into you, his left hand under your ass and keeping you pressed into him while he right hands makes it’s way around your throat, squeezing hard and forcing your eyes on him.

“This what you wanted? Huh? Wanted me to fuck you like a slut in my office, let all my employees hear you fucking scream for me?” He pauses, removing his right hand from your throat and smacking at your face again, a deep, red handprint left burning on your cheek. “Go on, fucking scream baby, let everyone in this goddamn place know who the fuck owns this sweet pussy.”

You’re a whimpering, moaning mess. Your brain is so foggy from how good his cock feels buried deep inside you, how his filthy words and aggressive actions on your body turn you on even more. You can’t form a coherent response, and this only pushes Rafe to be meaner, and fuck you harder.

He slowly pulls himself from you, making you whine at how empty you feel without him filling you. His large hands grip at your hips, lifting your ass from the desk and flipping you so your stomach lay flat on the surface now. He slaps at your ass harshly, making you scream in pain and pleasure. “Answer me! Who the fuck is making you feel this good? Hmm? Who owns this fucking pussy, baby?”

He slams back into you, his hands firmly planted on your hips so he can pull you back to meet each of his thrusts.

Screaming his name, you answer his question. “You! You, Rafe. Feel so fucking good! You own my pussy, all for you!”

He slaps your ass again, a dark chuckle falling from him, “That’s right baby, I fucking own you and this sweet fucking pussy. Never forget that, aight?”

Tears fill your eyes, your pussy clenching tightly around your husband’s thick cock as he repeatedly pushes in and out of you at a fast and rough pace. “Y-yes sir. Never gonna forget it, fuck!”

The first few tears spill past your eyes as Rafe continues to brutally fuck himself into you from behind. Your walls clench around him tightly, strings of curses and moans slipping past your lips. “Fuck, Rafe. Ah ah, s’close baby, fuck!”

Rafe leans forward, the weight of his body on your back as his lips hungrily kiss at your neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. “Go on baby, make a fucking mess on my cock and desk, let go f’me.”

That was all it took, Rafe kissing harshly at your neck and his permission to let go sent you tumbling over the edge, your pussy tightening once more as you came undone around him.

He fucks you through your high, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he curses under his breath. “Gonna cum baby, gonna fill this pretty little pussy up, make you a mama. You want that? Wanna have my babies?”

“Y-yes! P-please! Want your cum, Rafe! Wanna have all your babies, fuck, please please.”

Rafe’s thrusts grow sloppy, his hips stuttering as he pushes into you a few more times. You let out a loud moan when you feel his hot cum spill inside you, painting your inner walls white.

“Fuck!” Rafe shouts as his hips slow, burying himself to the hilt and stilling inside you.

Your body collapses onto the desk, the cool surface feeling good against your hot, sweat slick skin. You wince when Rafe pulls his softening cock from inside you, pulling up his boxers and slacks before grabbing his white button up off the floor.

You hear him disappear into his private bathroom that’s in his office, the sound of the sink turning on making you lift your head from the desk.

He walks behind you, gently laying your head back down as he brings the warm, wet hand towel between your legs and cleaning you up. Once finished, he tosses the damp towel to the side, pulling your leggings back up your legs and lifting you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, your head resting against his firm chest. “I’ve missed you, thank you for that.” you say softly.

Rafe dips his head down, pressing a soft kiss to your tangled hair before whispering, “You’re welcome, baby. ‘M yours for the rest of the day.”

You lift your head, brows furrowed in confusion when you hear his office door open, multiple sets of eyes on the two of you before they all avert their eyes to the ground. You hide your flushed face in his neck, not wanting the attention on you when you know everyone knows what just took place in your husbands office.

You hear Rafe speak, “Angie, forward all my calls for the rest of the day. I’m going home for the day, I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

His assistant clears her throat awkwardly, letting out a quiet “Yes, Mr. Cameron.” before Rafe begins walking the two of you out of his work building and to his car.

rafe taglist: @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @moremaybank @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @lexasaurs634 @anqeliclust @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @vhour @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @biggesthat3r @wearemadeofstardust0 @sylverdragon @the-sylver-dragon @ditzyzombiesblog @romaescapes @urfavpersonality @stupidbxnny

rafe cameron masterlist | taglist form

[lordprettyflackotara]

professional || ben drowned

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+ tw: cam girl!reader, squirting, ben's just a little possessive, mutual masturbation, fuck machine?

Ben threw himself into his gaming chair, grabbing his favorite bottle of lotion. After a long day of doing unethical favors for his fellow mansion residents, the blonde needed to blow some steam.

Being a digital ghost had many perks, along with being immortal. However this also meant having seen anything and everything. He had been on every porn site, every forum, every twitter thread. He'd hyperfixate on one fetish or pornstar at a time before eventually losing interest. He found himself growing more interested in the pornstars themselves, resulting in him investigating cam girls instead. Something about seeing the raw reactions and unfiltered live shows made Ben the horniest he had ever been. He scrolled through the site, looking for who was online. The blonde had a few favorites, but you were his ultra fantasy. His eyes lit up at the sight of your screen name being online, his heart pounding as he clicked on your live show. You had just started thankfully, your skimpy pajamas still covering your soft skin. Your perky nipples were poking through the thin material. Ben relished in the sight of you smiling at the recognition of his screen name.

"Hey there, drowning_in_bitches, nice to see you again."

Sometimes the way you talked to Ben made you feel like these shows were for him and him only. After all he was your top donator. Money was an endless resource for him, the blonde not afraid to shower you in cash to see you cum harder. You usually had your toys linked to the donations, the vibrations only starting and going faster when people donated. It was a satisfying sight to Ben, to see your face scrunching up in pleasure as the sound of coins dropping came out of the speakers. "I have something different for tonight boys," You say, your eyes bright and full of excitement. You leaned out of frame, fiddling with something. "Thanks to everyones over the top donations, I was finally able to invest in something I think we all will enjoy," You say. Ben raised an eyebrow in interest, before his mouth dropped in the shape of an O. You pulled into frame a sex machine, a large pink dildo strapped to the end of it. Your chat of admirers was going crazy, many already spamming with excitement. You giggled as you read the comments, Ben's mouth watering.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, his cock beginning to ache in his shorts.

You got that for me huh? He typed, before pressing enter. You bit your bottom lip as your eyes flickered to his comment. "Maybe I did maybe it's something special for my favorite admirer," You purred. You pulled your shirt over your head, your breast bouncing out freely. Ben began to fiddle with the strings of his shorts, watching you play with your mesmerizing breast. A few small donations were made, Ben purposefully waiting. You were quite the tease, loving to draw things out. Ben was not a patient man however, and refrained from donating until you were getting down to business. He loved to overstimulate you and you being foolish enough to get a fuck machine was perfect for him. You adjusted the fuck machine into position, before bending over in front of the camera. You played with the hems of your flimsy shorts, before pulling them down. Ben matched your motions, shoving his shorts down to his ankles. No panties huh? Dirty slut. He typed, tucking his bottom lip in between his teeth. You glanced over your shoulder, reading his comment. Ben could see your face noticeably flush red after soaking in what he said.

it really felt like you were putting on a private show for him and him only. You were so flustered and interactive with him. He never saw you do anything like that for anyone else. In the back of his mind he knew logically it was most likely because of the money he showered you with. But the other half of him ignored that thought, obsessed with the idea of you wanting him as bad he wanted you. "Honestly quite nervous about this guys, I haven't been properly fucked in ages," You sheepishly admitted. Ben's breath hitched as he palmed at his cock. Were you being honest? Or were you saying that just for fun? I can change that. He typed. He watched you read the comment, before delivering the camera a sly wink. "Maybe you should Mr.Drowned," You purred. Mesmerized, he watched as you laid down on your set up. You spread your legs wide open, licking two of your fingers before drawing slow circles around your clit. Your chat was going crazy with excitement, the horny men thrilled to see you pleasure yourself. Ben began to stroke his cock, noticing no one was donating. You were going slow on purpose. Ben had spent countless hours watching you ruin yourself for his entertainment. He knew exactly what you could handle.

He hovered over the donation tab, donating an easy $500 to start with. It had a simple note: Let me fuck your face. The sound of coins made you sit up, reading the note. You giggled. "Yeah? Is that what we want chat?" You asked. Ben couldn't ignore his jealousy. Why were you attending to their desires? He was the one you belonged to. The chat was flooding with excitement, causing you to fully switch positions. You put the fuck machine in front of your face, kitten licking the dildo. You arched your back, giving the camera a divine view of the shape of your ass. "That's it," Ben grumbled to himself, beginning to stroke his cock. He made a donation directly to the machine this time, the speed beginning to pick up. You took it the dildo deeper into your mouth, maintaining a seemingly innocent gaze into the camera. Ben grabbed the lotion, now fully ready to stroke his cock. His fingers reacted faster than he could comprehend, dumping another large donation carelessly into your account. The sound of coins made you moan, the dildo now fucking your throat. Ben relished in the sound of you gagging, saliva messily dripping down the sides of your mouth.

Your eyes were beginning to flood with tears, your waterline so full the tears overflowed. You struggled to keep up with the face fucking as Ben continued to donate more and more. The dildo was abusing your throat mercilessly, your thighs squeezing together with arousal. Ben couldn't help but fantasize about seeing you cum for him, his fingers hovering over his keyboard once more. Now lay down slut and let me fuck you. Ben typed, pressing enter. You blinked away some tears, pulling yourself off of the dildo. You laughed as you wiped some of your smudged mascara. "Look at this guys, you're making me make a mess," You laughed, laying back down on your back. You brought the dildo to your entrance, the toy more than lubricated with your saliva. Your cunt was glistening with arousal as Ben stared at you wide eyed, his hand slowly edging his cock. He watched you slowly take the toy, your walls eagerly clinging onto it. Get ready, i'm gonna give you the best fuck of your life. Ben typed. Your chat was so full you missed his comment, your mouth in the shape of an O as the fuck machine began moving.

Ben frowned as he realized this, carelessly placing a donation of $1K. You gasped as the sound of coins came out of the speaker, the fuck machine beginning to fuck you faster. For a brief moment your head fell back, your eyes fluttering shut from the pleasure. It was brushing against your g spot so deliciously, you couldn't help but moan. Your moans were sounds of encouragement for Ben, the blonde smirking as your doe eyes finally met the camera. He stroked his cock faster, dumping various large amounts of money into your inbox. You were gripping your pink comforter, your mouth running dry. Ben momentarily stopped, your other admirers simply watching instead of donating. You whined as the machine came to a stop, your eyes pleading as you looked into the camera. "Fuck please keep going, I wanna cum," You whimpered lowly. Ben bit his bottom lip, imagining hearing you beg for him directly. The other losers in your chat didn't have a shot in hell in making you cum as hard as he could. As he would.

The blonde continued donating, ultimately deciding on donating the maximum amount he could. He dropped his hand, watching the fuck machine whir at its highest speed. You were a moaning and whimpering mess, your knuckles turning white from gripping the sheets so hard. "Fucking hell, my fucking-, fuck!" You cried. Your cunt was abused by the toy Ben was controlling, a sick sadistic grin curling up his lips. Ben stroked his cock, rubbing his thumb over his slit as he watched you fall apart. Your legs were trembling, struggling to stay open as you took what Ben was giving you. Your head fell back as you squirted, your juices coating the sheets. You sheepishly closed your legs, your face red and cunt puffy. "Holy shit. I've never done that before," You panted. The fuck machine came to a brief halt, your lustful gaze meeting the camera. It was like you were looking directly into Ben's soul.

"Hey Mr.Drowned, wanna make me do that again?"

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙days like these | DR3˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: daniel ricciardo x y/n reader (she/her)

genre: social media au, established relationship

warnings: random fluffy shite

summary: in which you're so active on social media and your fans eat it up

a/n: kind of the daniel version of This Fic i made from a lando request !!!

fc: various brunette girls from pinterest

my masterlist

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, and 332,782 others

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tagged: danielricciardo

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maxverstappen1 neither of you are my favourites

yourusername you stink + no one asked + ratio + my bf is hotter than urs

maxverstappen1 what are you saying to me right now

yourusername you heard me

danielricciardo hahahahah

maxverstappen1 daniel tell your girlfriend to leave me alone please

yourusername this is literally my post

user3 y/n is the funniest & best wag tbh she's literally right she is our fav

user4 im in love with u

danielricciardo wow you are gorgeous and amazing

yourusername i know right

user5 i love them so bad

twitter ->

instagram ->

danielricciardo

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 881,034 others

danielricciardo girl is always eating

tagged: yourusername

view all 12,729 comments

yourusername what is wrong with you

danielricciardo huh??

yourusername WHY WOULD YOU POST THESE UGLY ASS PICS OF ME

danielricciardo wtf you literally look hot as hell

maxverstappen1 😂😂😂

yourusername i know you aint laughing at me sloth verstappen

maxverstappen1 🤐🤐🤐

user9 how can someone still look this hot whilst eating

user10 omg i love her

user11 now this is why she's everyone's fav wag

user12 reason 10292 more like

francisca.cgomes how did you bag such a hottie

danielricciardo ask myself this everyday

yourusername OMG KIKA im blushing

danielricciardo wow she doesnt care when i compliment her

francisca.cgomes what can i say 🤷‍♀️

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, danielricciardo, and 289,061 others

yourusername beach day with my gf

tagged: francisca.cgomes

view all 6,293 comments

pierregasly ???

yourusername and what do u want

pierregasly my girlfriend back?

yourusername not right now, sorry

francisca.cgomes the girls are fighting over mee

user16 I LOVE THEMMM OMG

user17 wag besties 🥹

francisca.cgomes i love u

yourusername i love you

danielricciardo so this is why u didnt text me back today

yourusername I DROPPED MY PHONE IN THE SEA OK

maxverstappen1 😂😂😂

yourusername next time i see u it's on site

maxverstappen1 😰

user18 hahaha max never says a word and still gets roasted

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, kellypiquet, and 917,892 others

maxverstappen1 Cool 😎

view all 11,013 comments

user19 IS THAT DANIEL & Y/N IN THE LAST SLIDE

user20 LOL more comments about y/n than max himself

kellypiquet ❤️❤️

liked by maxverstappen1

user29 Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N ‼️

yourusername obsessed with my man much

maxverstappen1 i'll block you

yourusername booooooo max verstappen booooooooo tomatoes tomatoes

danielricciardo be nice y/n

yourusername no

maxverstappen1 what is wrong with her

user30 i cant tell if y/n actually has real beef with max or not 😭😭

user31 surely not hahah she's literally in his photo dump

twitter ->

instagram ->

danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, francisca.cgomes, and 771,829 others

danielricciardo my woman

tagged: yourusername

view all 8,183 comments

user35 bet he's sucking up to her

user36 awww the flower in the plastic cup

user37 the bows on the uggs she's just a girl fr

yourusername i havent forgotten what you said daniel

danielricciardo im sorry for calling you unemployed even though you are

yourusername right.

maxverstappen1 a taste of your own medicine for once

*comment deleted by maxverstappen1*

yourusername i saw that maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1 saw what

user37 boooo we want y/n & daniel fluff

danielricciardo she wont love me anymore

user38 get her some flowers or something daniel

user39 yea man up

yourusername 🤔

danielricciardo give the people what they want

yourusername fine i forgive u. and i love u

danielricciardo ! i love you so much

user40 and the crowd goes wild!!!

THE END ❤️

[soup-mother]

not overly fond of the way transfems on this site talking about transmisogyny basically just exist for bigger tme blogs to occasionally reblog something that lines up with their worldview and have everyone pat them on the back for occasionally reblogging a post about transmisogyny. like hey why the actual fuck does everyone treat you like an expert on this because you reblog *my* posts? that's a bit fucked huh? like oh goodie i get to be the token tranny and get out of transmisogyny accusations free card

not a huge fan of that

[pitchsidestories]

golden girl II Alexia Putellas x Jenni Hermoso x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1732

a/n: as always this is just fiction, your feedback is always welcome. We saw that other people recently wrote fics with a similar topic and just wanted to clarify that we had the idea while writing one night in ibiza, so all similarities are purely coincidental.❤️

You watched from behind the camera as Alexia carried a football and set herself up to take a free kick. The ball spun through the air and landed perfectly in the top right corner of the goal.

You beamed.

This would make a nice video for the Spanish national teams social media sites.

As Alexia proudly turned towards the camera, her eyes met yours for a brief moment. She smiled, suddenly all flustered.

You held back a laugh to not ruin the video. Only once the recording stopped, you said: “Well done, babe!“

Alexias smile grew wider and you could have sworn the she even blushed.

“Ew!“, Jenni commented from somewhere behind you.

You turned to see her grimace in mock disgust.

Alexia barely glanced at her: “Shut it, Jenni.“

“No.“, the dark-haired player replied quickly and determinedly, similar to a stubborn child.

“Ignore her.“, you laughed as Alexia walked towards you and pulled you in by the waist for a kiss. Her gaze was still directed towards Jenni.

“Stop making out.“, she said and wrinkled her nose, repulsed by the showcase of affection.

Alexia only smirked at her: “I’m sorry but this point goes to me.“

“Whatever.“, Jenni rolled her eyes.

You were well acquainted with their bickering. They were both so ambitious, even when it came to you they always tried to one-up each other. This could go on forever if you didn’t put an end to it.

“Sorry, girl. But I’m not a trophy to be won.“, you said calmly and walked away without looking at them again.

Still, you could feel their eyes lingering as you walked towards the other players.

“Oh, little Miss Independent is back.“, Jenni teased, slight annoyance vibrating in her voice.

Alexia raised her eyebrows: “Also that was a lie, she clearly loves it.“

“Of course she does.“

“Just look at her.“, the Barcelona captain said, nodding in the direction where you were talking with Laia and Ona.

Another smile played on Jennis lips: “I love it when she’s acting all innocent.“

“Walking around, giving hugs to everyone. Oh, that Ona hug was extra long.“, Alexia commented your actions.

“She knows this doesn’t work, right?“

Behind all of the jokes and teasing however, was the slight sting of jealousy.

You didn’t notice the two player approaching you, you were too focused on your conversation with Ona.

“Oh my god, really, Oni?“, you laughed.

The defender went quiet: “Yes, uhm…“

“We definitely need to go on a walk with our dogs after the Olympics.“, you continued happily.

“We do.“

“Sweet.“, Alexia said cooly.

“Huh?“ You turned towards her, one eyebrow raised in expectation of a good excuse for interrupting your talk.

Jenni just smirked: “Quit flirting with Ona, you already have our attention.“

“I wasn’t flirting with her, we’re just good friends.”, you corrected her annoyed.

 “Quit rolling your eyes.”, the raven-haired woman demanded grinning.

“You know exactly what you did.”, Alexia shook her head amused.

“No.”, you answered innocently.

“See? She’s playing blameless again.”, Jenni sighed.

With a devilish grin, the blonde midfielder hugged you from behind, whispering into your ear. “You’ll confess everything tonight.” Her words send a shiver down your spine.

“Tonight?”, you repeated quietly.

“Yes.”, she affirmed.

“But we’ve our first Olympic game tomorrow!”, you protested.

“Don’t worry about it.”, the older forward assured you, while driving her hand through her dark open hair nonchalantly. The urge to touch her like she did in that moment was almost overwhelming, but you hold yourself back.

“And the beds are really small.”, you thought out loud.

“We can make a big one out of the three.”, Alexia suggested rationally.

“Easy.”, Jenni nodded enthusiastically.

“I guess we could do that.”, you admitted.

“Leave that to us, y/n.”, the oldest winked at you.

“I’ll let you do it.” A staff member called your name, reminding you that you had to do an interview for national television. To your girlfriends you explained. “Shit, I got to go, media duties.”

“Have fun.”, Alexia responded before turning her head to face the dark-haired forward.

“Great, that gives us enough time for the project bed.”, Jenni clapped excitedly into her hands. The enthusiasm reminded her of a child when it was about to open it’s present.

“Let’s go.”, the blonde told the woman who played in Mexico now.

The small cardboard beds were quickly put next to each other to form a bigger one, ready to hold the three of you.

“I think we’re ready only y/n is missing.”, Jenni announced delighted. The level of anticipation has been rising to the next level, the warmth and the near Mediterranean Sea added to it and the sun was about to set painting the sky in the prettiest colours.

“I’ll go see where she’s.”, Alexia decided, the taller woman following her immediately, in the hallway their hands were almost touching.  

Meanwhile, you were too focused on answering the questions of the journalist to realize that your girlfriends turned up behind your back.

“Oh, I can’t wait for the tournament to start, it’s so special as it’s the first time for our team to play at the Olympics.”, you raved, beaming with pride.

“Why’s she smiling like that? Y/n’s genuinely excited, huh?”, Jenni asked the blonde surprised.

“She’s.”, Alexia agreed.

“I could watch her do interviews forever.”, she declared swooning over you. Her green eyes admiring your sight, the gestures you made while talking about something you clearly loved and were passionate about.

“With whom I’d like to do a jersey swap? Definitely Marta, she’s such a big inspiration and everything she did for the women’s game is incredible. The only problem here is that Ona and Alexia want hers too, so we’ll see who gets it in the end.”, you laughed light-heartedly.

“Of course she would say that.”, Alexia scoffed.

Jenni watched on as you answered more questions: “Those young girls are such media pros.“

“I think she’s finally done.“, Alexia said, seemingly relieved that you were unable to embarrass her anymore.

You politely said goodbye to the interviewer and got up up.

“Hey! Y/n!“, Jenni called.

You heaved a sigh and gave her a death stare: “Jennifer, you don’t need to shout when we’re in the same room!“

The dark-haired player shrugged: “Wasn’t sure you saw us.“

“I’d always see you two, even in a crowded room.“, you replied, shaking your head.

“Don’t flatter us.“, Alexia said with a half-smile.

Confusion flashed across your face: “No, I mean you two, Misa and Irene are usually the tallest in every room.“

Alexias face dropped: “Seriously? I thought you were trying to be cute!“

Before you could say anything about how ridiculous that assumption was, Jenni clapped her hands: “Anyways, it’s time to take this to bed.“

You cocked your head teasingly: “Oh, is it?“

“Yes, it is.“, Alexia agreed with her teammate.

“Let’s go then.“, you shrugged.

“About time.“

“We did our waiting!“, Jenni complained and scooped you up into her arms.

You shrieked as she carried you off towards her bedroom. “Jenni, put me down!“

Alexia followed behind, closing her eyes for a second like she was fighting a headache: “Children.“

“Ale, help!“, you begged but the Barcelona captain barely gave you any attention.

“No.“

Jenni threw you down on the bed they prepared earlier: “Finally!“

“Finally?“, you echoed. The bed wobbled as she laid down beside you.

“Yes.“

“Are we sure this is stable enough to hold us three?“, you worried as Alexia climbed on your other side.

You suddenly remembered why the beds at the Olympic village were made out of cardboard. It was supposedly to prevent athletes from having sex and this might have worked for some. But apparently whoever came up with this had never met Jenni and Alexia.

“Don’t worry about it, darling.“, Jenni said while brushing a strand of hair out of your face. As she leaned over, the cardboard made the typical noise of being crushed.

You yelled in surprise: “Jenni!“

“Careful!“, Alexia laughed, trying to grab Jennis arm. Her movement made the whole bed collapse in a pile of mattresses and flat cardboard.

“Oh my god.“, you breathed out once the initial shock wore off.

“We broke the bed.“, Alexia commented unhelpfully.

“Just great, you two geniuses.“ You tried to sound mad but the ridiculousness of the situation made you grin.

Jenni instead was extremely amused by this: “I’m sure this will bring us luck.“

“Since when do broken beads do that?“, Alexia frowned at her.

“You can trust me.“, she kept smiling.

“I sure hope you’re right.”, you remarked.

“Me too.”, the Blonde stared at the forward.

“Just believe me girl.”, Jenni answered with a smug smile on her lips.

“And where are we supposed to sleep now.”, Alexia questioned while nodding to the destroyed beds.

“We still have our mattresses. Can’t be more uncomfortable than the beds.”, the older woman proposed.

“Good point.”, you said while the three of you lay down on those, you in the middle.

“I guess that’s my life as a professional athlete now.”, the midfielder hid her face behind her hands.

“You two are such pillow princesses.”, Jenni commented.

“Coming from the real pillow princess here.”, you countered, elbowing her softly.

“Lies.”, the dark-haired woman clicked her tongue.

“Truth.”, you disagreed smiling.

“Shut up.”, Jenni requested.

“Make me.”, you responded, sticking your tongue out for a second.

“Don’t worry, amor. I will.”, she hummed, pinning your arms downs, so you were unable to move, while her eyes wandered from your face to your breasts, under her gaze your cheeks turned hot.

“Go on.”, you muttered, you didn’t want to wait any longer.

With that intention Jenni got down on you to give you a feverish kiss. Taking her time to devour this one.

“Ah silence.”, Alexia sighed happily beneath you.

“Way better, right?”, Jenni looked up.

“Definitely.”, the midfielder noted, kissing both of you before her eyes were closing, sleep was calling her name.

“Is she asleep already?”, you questioned.

“Yes, good night my golden girls.”, the oldest woman chirmed.

“Golden girls?!”, you repeated.

“Quiet.” The demand coming from Alexia.

You apologized with a kiss to your cheek.

It was time to sleep, tomorrow was a big day, you were about to play your country’s first Olympic women’s football game, you three and your team were about to write history. Or should you rather say herstory.