#but wanted to complete some maps first

[mistrall-art]

It's my birthday today! ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

Did I need a 4th necro on my EU account? No, but did I want one? Yes >:3c This is Riley (or Ryleígh in-game), one of my oldest ocs and while I do have a mesmer version of her, I also wanted a necro.

Her nickname is Lucky Riley, because well...I got the new heli glider and chair on her first key :'D and a fancy rifle on the third.

[robo-dino-puppy]

return to meridian

[theygender]

I've got too many games I want to play and not enough free time 😭 I still need to finish my BG3 playthrough but since Endless Ocean: Luminous came out I've been playing a lot of that instead. Also just got back into Wizard101 last night. Started playing House Flipper again last weekend. Still need to finish BOTW so I can start a TOTK playthrough and finish Pokemon Shield so I can start on Pokemon Violet. I've been fighting off the urge to start up a new Skyrim playthrough for weeks. My brother just told me that Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door is getting ported to the Switch. And now I'm suddenly feeling inspired to replay DAI... And throughout all of this I'm also playing the hell out of DragonVale on my phone. Someone just pay me to play video games all day please

[hiddenbeks]

more than a month after my previous kotor update i am happy to announce that i have finally met jolee and had him join me <3

[torterragarden]

I guess I’m old fashioned but the open world in Scarlet is really not working for me. I’m sorry but I desperately miss having an actual progression/level curve

[shadow4-1]

"Can you just pretend to love me tonight? Please?"

Simon's never gotten a request like this before.

He's never had any qualms about selling his body. Whether it was for his cock, units of his blood plasma, or his war honed body. He's always done what he's had to - anything to stay off the streets and keep a full belly.

The girls who've paid him always wanted a brute, someone to mount them and take them for all they were worth. That was what he was used to, not some doe-eyed sweet thing begging him to be gentle.

"I want to feel loved." You admit, leaning back on the motel bed, thighs crossed in nervousness. "I um...I know I'm not very pretty-"

Simon leans forward on his knees and kisses you gently. Well, he tries to. The tip of your teeth graze painfully together as he mouths you. You squeak beneath him, hands going up to his shoulders to try and push him off on rabbit instinct. He pulls his mouth off of you just enough to mutter an apology.

"Sorry." He swallows.

You look up at him with impeccably beautiful eyes brimming with tears. You seem to finally understand there's nothing gentle about him even when he tries to be. Simon wants you to call him off, send him out of the cheap hotel. He knows he can't be as sweet at you want - as you deserve. He's just physically not built for that. At least, he's sure of it nowadays. He has a brief memory of holding his newborn nephew but it slips away just as quickly as it came.

"Can we just...go slow?" You ask again. Simon can hear the waver in your voice. You're unsure if you want to continue, but you seem to trust him for some reason. "Really, really slow?"

"Yeah."

He can do slow. He can do glacial. If there's one thing he can do, it's be measured, methodical. He wasn't a Lieutenant for nothing.

For the first time in years, he takes his time. He's used to the fast paced, hungry fucks that pay his rent in thirty minutes. This is...new, not wholly uninvited. He kisses down your collarbone, down the swell of your breasts. He nips at the lacy fabric (you dressed up for him when he was expecting just to rip it all off) as he makes his way down further. He laps at the skin beneath your belly button, making your belly flutter. Ticklish. He likes that.

Simon noses his way between your thighs, easily spreads your legs with his thick forearms. As he kisses down your cloth covered mound he admits he likes how you smell. Usually the taste of women turns him off. He prefers men, but desperate women pay more. You're desperate alright, although its a different type of desperation. Something about the nervous wetness staining your new panties has his cock jumping in his trousers. He presses his nose to the fabric, inhales deeply, and relishes in your shy squeak. Simon starts to understand your desire.

You want to be explored, mapped, and consumed slowly. You want to give up control but feel as if you can stop at any moment. You want to be seen, tasted, then completely devoured.

Instead of slipping your panties to the side, he licks his way down your thighs. You squeal and try to squirm away from the sudden sensation but he doesn't stop. He kisses down your calves and across the top of your feet. His hands are so large that they wrap around your soles completely. Simon pushes them up until they're up by your ears. He knows the position is uncomfortable for you, but he likes the view of your soft, cloth covered mound.

He nips at the back of your ankles and calves, licks down the expanse of your thighs, ans nuzzles into the gusset of your panties. Simon relishes in the squeaks and gasps ans twitches of your expectant body. It's been so long since he's teased someone, much less a sweet lil' thing like you.

Your scent is heady, comforting, nothing like he's experienced before. He finds he really likes just inhaling you in. You whimper, thighs shaking already. He hasn't even licked you yet. Simon finally admits to himself that you're stroking his ego.

He plants a firm, sweet kiss to your cloth covered cunt. The fabric is practically soaked through. He can smell your taste on the tips of his lips. His curiosity wins. He takes a firm, long lick from bottom to top. Simon tastes you, but also the flowery tang of your favorite fabric softener. You taste good. He wants more.

Simon finally releases his hold on your thighs. On instinct, or perhaps strain, they fall apart. You try to sit up but he tugs your body further towards the edge of the bed. He can feel the tension in his old knees from kneeling, but he ignores it. You've opened up your body to him. He wants to take full advantage of it.

Simon goes back to lapping at your clothed cunt. He doesn't stop until his tongue is raw from brushing repeatedly over the stitches. Drool drips down his chin.

"Off."

You huff in confusion, trying to sit up. Instead. With too easy of a tug, off come your panties. There you are. Simon knows he should slow his movements but he doesn't care. You haven't stopped him yet, and he'll be damned if he doesn't get those sweet lips in his mouth. He spreads you apart with his middle and forefinger. You're a sight to behold. Perhaps not pornstar perfect anatomy, but you're delicious looking nonetheless. He eyes your glistening, dripping slit. As bad as he wants to force his tomgue deep inside you, instead he presses a firm kiss to the hood of your clit. You jolt, trying to back away or pull him closer, he can't tell.

Simon follows your movement. He mouths hungrily at your clit, flattens his tongue and practically drools against it. He laps at you with a muted fervor. He doesn't want to hurt you. He can tell you're sensitive. It must've been awhile since the last time you'd had a man willingly do this for you. A damn shame.

Your shaky little moans are like music to Simon's ears. He follows them like a map. He circles your clit, traces the entrance of your hood, even dips lower to tease the sides of your inner lips. You seem to like that alot based on the sounds you make. He sucks on your inner wings and you squeal, thighs wrapping hard around the sides of his head. He does it again and and again until you're hiccuping in delight. Your slick drips down his chin and throat. You're such a good girl for him.

Simon knows he's going to make you cum, it's just a matter of time and technique. He has both on his side. He uses his other hand to pet at your entrance. He tries to commit your anatomy to memory, and so he takes his time dipping the pads of his fingers against your fluttering slit. Despite it obviously having been awhile, your cunt holds no resistance. In fact, it practically swallows up the tip of his middle finger. Fuck yeah, that's what he likes to see.

With measured ease, Simon slips his whole finger inwards and upwards inside of you. You keen and gasp and he can feel your insides twitching. You're tight. So tight he can feel his finger already starting to cramp up from the resistance.

If he's going to fuck you right he's still got some work to do.

[damnyousubdermalirritants]

UPDATE: NOVAVAX NOW AVAILABLE!!!

Hi everyone, it's been about a year since I posted about updated COVID vaccines and it's time for another update if you are in the US:

THE BRIDGE ACCESS PROGRAM IS ENDING!!!!

If you are uninsured or your insurance does not cover covid boosters, please schedule a new booster appointment before the end of August because the Bridge Access Program (the way the government will still pay for your booster) ends in September. The updated mRNA boosters from Moderna and Pfizer are available now. Go Go GO!!!

Shitty, I know! If you can call your congressional reps, the FDA, the CDC, whomever to tell them you want this program to continue/be reinstated, that would be great. Also, while you're at it, call the FDA to tell them to expedite the approval for the updated Novavax booster (3017962640).

The new Novavax vaccine is designed for the JN.1 strain which is one of the most recent mutations of the virus going around. If you have insurance and can afford to wait, I highly recommend getting the Novavax booster when it becomes available.

We are currently in the largest Covid summer surge since 2021

If you haven't had a booster in the past six months you are essentially unvaccinated. New strains with different spike proteins keep evolving faster than vaccine development and distribution can keep up. All that said, getting Covid is not a moral failing. If you do feel sick, take a rapid test! If it's negative, test again a day or two later. It is better to know than not to know. Here's a refresh on how to take a rapid test correctly:

If you do get Covid, it is worth getting on antiretrovirals within the first week of symptoms to reduce the overall viral load your body has to fight. If your insurance doesn't cover Paxlovid or Remdesivir, here are other low/no-cost ways to access it:

If you get sick, rest radically even after you stop testing positive on rapid tests. Avoid exercising for at least eight weeks after the fact to reduce the risk of developing long covid.

Regardless of your vaccination status, masking with a KN95 or N95 respirator (or equivalent standards in your country i.e. FFP2/3 in the EU) is the most reliable way to protect yourself and others. If Covid protections are a financial burden, there is likely an active Mask Bloc near you doing free distribution of respirators and tests that would be happy to help you. Here's a global map of them from covidactionmap.org

Some quick tips: if you're wearing a bi-fold mask, flatten the nose-bridge wire completely, then mold it to your nose on your face for a better fit. The best mask is the one that you will actually wear regularly to protect yourself. I really like the selection of styles, sizes and colors from WellBefore:

As school is starting, getting you and your family boosted is one of the best things you can do to protect yourselves. Masking is perhaps even more important. If you can advocate for updating and regularly changing the HVAC filters at your local schools to MERV-13 or higher to keep the indoor air cleaner, that can also make a big difference. Better indoor air quality in schools helps protect kids from illness, allergies, wildfire smoke, and more per the EPA's website.

These are steps you can take to improve air quality at home as well. Corsi-Rosenthal boxes are low-cost and highly effective for cleaning the air indoors.

Here's a map of clean air lending libraries for getting access to air purifiers for events from cleanairclub.org

[nuadaargetlamh]

One is a convicted criminal that wants to:

Institute a dictatorship “on day one only” (with majority support from his party!)

Give a greenlight to Project 2025

Use a weakened Schedule F to install THOUSANDS of cronies

Institute military tribunals for his political enemies (and allies!)

Gun down “enemies from within”

Support Russia in wiping Ukraine off the map

Use the combo of the removal of the Chevron deference/the Supreme Court allowing people to openly bribe them/Schedule F to extend the far-right’s reach into every government agency and deregulate everything to the benefit of his rich capitalist buddies

Has gotten total immunity for “official acts” (what counts as “official”? Whatever his Schedule F appointed judges choose of course.)

Already took away so many freedoms from racial minorities/queer people/women/anyone-that-isn’t-a-rich-white-man that it would take ages to list them all in this post

and so so so so SO MUCH MORE.

The other is a typical neoliberal politician.

Remember also, you’re not just choosing a president, you’re choosing their cabinet, potential Supreme Court justices, federal employees as well. With the above listed ALONE, Trump would do so much more damage than just what he can do himself. That’s not including everything else his Federalist Society Supreme Court would and have given him on a silver platter. Supreme Court Justices are for LIFE, and we’ve already seen the potentially irreparable damage this far-right activist court has done to the fabric of democracy.

Project 2025 really deserves a part to itself just to list some of what it includes: complete abortion/contraceptive ban (no exceptions), destroying worker’s unions and protections, remove Social Security/Medicare/Affordable Care Act, end civil rights protections in government, ban teaching the history of slavery, remove climate protections while gutting the EPA, end equal marriage and enforce the “traditional family ideal”, use the military to gun down protests, mass deportation of legal immigrants (especially Muslims), ending birthright citizenship, pack the lower courts, and plenty more. The far-right wasn’t able to take full advantage of Trump’s presidency the first time since it was so unexpected. They’re preparing so that they won’t make the same mistake again. THERE ARE OVER 900 PAGES OF POLICIES AND PLANS THAT THEY ABSOLUTELY WILL IMPLEMENT IF THEY WIN. READ IT. Anyone that says they won’t is either a liar or already drank the Kool-Aid. Isn’t it interesting that every politician that supports it, including his vice president, wants Trump to win?

Not to mention, if you care about Palestine (like I do, a lot), Trump would be MUCH WORSE for Palestine than the other candidate, supporting Bibi going “from the river to the sea” and already cut off millions in aid to Palestine in 2018 (which Dems reversed!). If you support a free Palestine and don’t vote blue, you have categorically hurt them more than if you did. Even Palestinians themselves want the Democrat candidate over Trump. There is no quick and bloodless peace deal that both Palestine and Israel would ever agree to. The road to an end of the Palestine-Israel conflict is going to be long and difficult, probably decades of dedicated de-radicalization in both states, and will involve far more than one person’s decisions in the end. Unless Trump takes power, and avoids all that by sending enough bombs to turn the Gaza Strip into dust.

There are a few reasons you would choose to vote third party in a FPTP system (support ranked choice voting btw) or not vote “in protest” while ignoring all the state and local elections that affect your area more than the president. Either you’re privileged enough to not be affected by what Trump would bring, you’re ignorant of the consequences, or you care more about doing nothing perfectly rather than doing something, anything that isn’t 100% ideologically “pure” to fight against the far-right fascist movement.

Am I a democratic socialist? Yes. Am I a realist? Also yes. In every single down-ballot race, and through my activism, I will fight for the rights of the oppressed and working-class. But the Presidency isn’t fucking winnable right now, and probably won’t be for decades. Pro-corporatist/anti-worker sentiment is baked into the fucking bones of this country and its people. A majority of eligible voters wouldn’t vote for Bernie, and he’s barely center-left. Voting for anything other than one of the two big parties is a useless feel-good gesture at the moment. Or you’re a dumbass accelerationist, and if you are, honestly go fuck yourself.

Let’s say you want a socialist revolution, full-tilt government takeover. I want that too, in my wildest dreams! We’re on the same page there. So how are you going to do it. How? HOW? What pro-worker activist groups are you working with? Are you encouraging your workplace to form a union? Volunteering for/donating to your local farmers’ co-op? Canvassing for pro-worker legislation? Hell, even something as small as distributing free copies of high-school/college textbooks, so that those of poorer means have a better chance at affording advanced education? Are you doing anything to help? Any praxis at all, rather than typing wishful thoughts of revolution alongside insults to people who aren’t as “correct” as you on the internet?

Every voter that still supports Trump is energized by every cruelty he enacts, while millions of Democrats and third-partyists care more about purity tests and manifesting socialist revolution tulpas than avoiding a fascist dictatorship.

Have a brain, touch grass, and vote blue all the way down that fucking ballot.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic Idea: Catnip for Heros

Danny Fenton gains a particular reputation in Amity Park for being a "Catnip for Heros."

It started in Freshman year. Phantom was seen coming and going from his house at odd times. It wasn't a very well-kept secret- neighbors would see the glowing teenager in broad daylight.

The ghost hunters who owned the house were the only people unaware of the ghost flying out of the third window on the second floor—Danny's bedroom. At first, they thought it was a one-time thing.

Maybe the ghost wanted to have a little bit of fun now that he was stationed back in the human world? Fenton was rather good-looking when he cleaned up and could be charming when he wasn't dodging his responsibilities.

The A-listers started a rumor that Danny Fenton was relatively easy if all it took was Phantom saving him once. Still, the rumor never gained traction since Fenton seemed flustered at the most minor compliments. Instead, he seemed to jump out of his skin whenever anyone hinted of being interested in him- romantically or friends with benefits.

Never mind when his nighttime rendezvous with Phantom was brought up. Boy looked mortified to have it even suggested, as in burst into tears right then and there.

Even the A-listers weren't that mean. (Some think it was more due to their respect for Phantom than anything.)

Then Fenton was spotted flying on the hoverboard of Red Huntress, clinging to her like a damsel in distress. It would have been a simple rescue that the hero was known for doing, except she often carried him about without a ghost.

It became customary to hear her board humming through the air, Fenton either holding tight to her suffering stance or being carried in her strong arms. As usual, Red Huntress's face was completely covered, but her body language was open and friendly, curved toward Fenton as if he were the sun to her flower.

Red Huntress slowly but surely became more visible in public sight. Unlike Phantom, she normal vanished as soon as a fight was done. People speculated that she was human, but no one could prove it.

Once Dash Baxter was able to film Fenton literally kicking his feet and giggling as Red Huntress hovered in the air, one arm under his knees and the other on his back in a classic princess carry. She had bought him a street hot dog, and Fenton was acting like it was an engagement ring.

The video spread like wildfire through Casper High, and soon, people whispered that Fenton and Phantom had ended. Then two days later, a new video of Phantom flying out of Fenton's room at two in the morning was passed along by two jocks that had been out doing an extreme workout run through the city.

Students of Casper High wondered if Fenton was daring enough to two-time the town heroes. Wes put a stop to the accusations when he flagged down Huntress and asked her about Fenton's relationship with Phantom.

Of course, Wes meant that Fenton and Phantom were the same person (he was crazy like that), but everyone knew it was more about possible cheating. She shattered the thought with, "Phantom and I share Fenton," and flew away, leaving everyone with their jaws dropping.

However, what got Fenton his nickname was the day the Justice League arrived to ask Phantom for help against an invading paranormal force. It was a whole, saving the world; you're our last hope scenario.

People in Amity watched the battle updates from various news outlets. It seemed a bit touch and go for a while, but thankfully, Phantom and Batman could pull through and push back the undead. The streets of the small town flooded with cheering citizens who were overjoyed their town hero did it.

Red Huntress even flew over the city throwing "Phantom #1" foam fingers. It was cute how excited she was for her boyfriend. Fenton was notably absent during that time, but she said it was fine, so people let it go.

It put Amity Park on the map. Suddenly, everyone wanted to know about Phantom and his exploits. News crews, reporters, and even celebrity gossip rags were scouting the tiny town, looking for anything on Phantom besides "He's really old. Really powerful. Dead."

One Jimmy Olsen managed to get the most giant scoop of Earth's newest and hottest hero. It was of Phantom, leaning awfully close to a flustered-looking Fenton. One tilt of his head and their two lips would have been brushing.

Olsen took the shot, forgetting about his flash, and watched Phantom fade out of sight. Fenton looked horrified and raced away before Olsen could ask him questions.

Undeterred, Olsen spent a whole day searching for Fenton and nearly gave up until he happened to find the teenager in the local park, sitting on Red Robins's lap as the hero played with his hair. Shocked, Olsen snapped the photo, watching the two for a while, getting more and more footage. They fed each other ice cream at one point and raced back to the hotel to show Lois.

She excitably jumped on the idea of a plain civilian boy with heroes, especially after some digging showed his connection to Phantom and Red Huntress.

They decided they needed proof before pitching the idea back home, and Fenton was caught in similar positions with Orphan, Superboy (the clone on Red Robin's team), Inpulse, Blue Beatle (the younger new one), and Supergirl. All in a month.

"He's really going through them, huh?" Olsen muttered while the story was posted. The header read, "Danny Fenton: Teenage heartthrob that is Catnip for Heros!"

It's an overnight hit sensation.

Miles away, hiding his face in his hands, is Danny Fenton, surrounded by all the young heroes laughing so hard a few nearly break a rib.

"My Obsession is Protection and Love. It's not my fault I need cuddles from those I care about to function!" The teen cries after reading the somewhat scandalous article and pictures of himself.

"We know Danny," Tim assures him, tucking the boy under his chin. "Getting high off of love is a medical condition."

"Wait, does he actually get high?" Kara asks. "I thought he was just getting giggly 'cause he's cute like that."

"Nope. The emotion humans- and Kryptonians, I guess- release when love- any form of it- causes Danny to get high. Blown pupils. Seeing streaks of lights. Laughing silly. The whole sha-bang." Kon laughs, reaching out to pat Danny's shoulder. The teenager half-buried his face more in his hands with a muffled cry. "He once got so high after Bruce told him how proud he was of him that he created a duplicate and had a staring contest with it to see who had the right to the last bag of chips."

Jaime holds up the tablet, pointing to a photo. "It's the one that started this whole catnip thing. Also, how honored I am to be included in the harem? My popularity had never been higher."

"Stop!" Danny cries. This isn't funny. How am I supposed to protect my secret identity when the whole world thinks I'm "Making my way through all the young heroes?"

"You could marry me," Bart offers. "No one will expect you to run off with a speedster ironically."

"You have to go through Bruce first," Tim tells him; though there is a smile on his face, his eyes are ice cold. "And the rest of my family. Danny is destined to be a Wayne."

"Bruce can't adopt me; I have parents."

"I meant marry in love."

"Tim, now is not the time to state a claim." Kara sighs and then narrows her eyes. "Danny is going to marry into the El family."

"Not if we Allens have anything to say about it!"Bart shouts.

Kon and Jaime watch as Danny slips to the floor a smile slowly blooming on his face as various heroes start yelling at each other. "Should we tell them he's getting high right now or-?"

"Nah, it's fine."

[occidentalavian]

Full map of Exandria, 2024 update!

Map images and Wonderdraft file download [HERE]

Hi everyone! It's been about 4 years since my last map. In that time more of Exandria has revealed itself to us, and while it is still not a complete picture, we now have enough that I felt it was time to make an update.

The biggest change from my previous map is that I am no longer using the Elven Tower Cartography assets. This is because previously I installed them incorrectly, in a way that meant that people who downloaded the map file were unable to see the assets unless they installed it in the same weird way that I did. Rather than fixing this, I instead opted to use the default Wonderdraft assets, that way it can be viewed out of the box without having to download something else first!

As before, Tal'Dorei and Wildemount are the most accurate to official maps, and we also have an official map of at least one arrangement of the Shattered Teeth, which is re-created here. We have a portion of Marquet via the Oderan Wilds and Hellcatch Valley maps, but the rest, including all of Issylra is still mostly made up, based loosely on a very old and tiny map briefly shown on screen by Sam in episode 103 of Campaign 1! Naturally when any new maps come out, this map will (eventually) be updated to reflect them.

There are some locations that are new to this map as well, such as the Demithore Valley in Issylra from Campaign 3 and all the towns visited in The Re-Slayer's Take up to episode 10, these being Himblewood, Josgren's Hollow, Shoresight Isle, and the Hug Hive. Ta'Dorei has a few new towns, Mooren and Heldenfaire, which were mentioned in Tal'Dorei Campaign Setting Reborn, as well as a few unnamed village clusters, the Foramere and Vues'dal villages. For these and the Mornset Countryside I included some non-canonical paths connecting them to the main roadways. Also included in Mornset is Roch Mar, the village that Vox Moronica visited all the way back in Episode 12 of Campaign 1, before Critical Role even did separate numbering for one-shots and thus included this unrelated episode in the campaign. This town isn't officially confirmed to actually exist in Exandria, so consider it my headcanon and a paper town. Moving on to Wildemount, Vo Village got upgraded to proper town status, and I've also included Yardel from The Nine Eyes of Lucien, Ghostwall from The Tales of Exandria: The Bright Queen, and Galgarad from the Dark Star adventure on DnDBeyond!

I want to give a special thanks to Don Farland for his original fan map of Exandria, created all the way before the release of Explorer's Guide to Wildemount, upon which I originally based my map of the Shattered Teeth. Incidentally, I believe that this depiction of those islands was the basis upon which the official map by Andy Law is based upon. I would also like to thank Niko Vanhala for his fan-made maps of Marquet and Issylra, upon which I have loosely based my maps of those continents. And of course thank you to Andy Law and Deven Rue for the official cartography of Exandria!

[prettycottagequeer]

ok maybe I'm a little late to this BUT I'm gonna do a to-do list motivation thingy because I've had the worst two weeks since I started college :)

SO these I should start on asap:

50 I make the snack I really want but I haven't had the motivation to make

100 I clean my dorm. another thing I've been meaning to do for a week

150 I do the presentation about mid-victorian fashion I've been putting off (due Monday)

200 I start memorizing the monologue that was due a week ago (now due Tuesday)

these can wait longer:

300 I spend time outside. It's so nice but I'm getting stuck scrolling because I feel like shit. vicious cycle ect

500 I start setting a better weekend routine (aka getting up before noon)

1k I start working out again. I was doing a routine to get more masc and build muscle and I liked it but life hit me like Crowley driving the Bentley and I've missed like 3 weeks

2k I buy my first binder. I've been coping with sports bras for almost a year now and I haven't been able to justify spending $50+ on a binder even though I know I'd love it and use it everyday.

Do I tag people? I don't know but I'm going to. @the-globe-theatre-maggot @weirdly-specific-but-ok @howmanyholesinswisscheese

here's just some context if you want to read, feel free to skip. some of this I've talked about in the maggot server, some I haven't, but I really just need a place for this to go that's out of my head. tw homophobia, transphobia, car crash(??)

How I Have Been Run Over By The Bentley Going 90 In Central London What Feels Like 50 Times In The Last Two Weeks

I'm going to college about 4 hours away from my parents, and it's been really nice. They.. suck, to say the least. transphobic/homophobic ect, super traditional conservative catholic, racist, all of it. so i tried to move somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about them and I could be myself and do what I can to be happy. March 1st was the start of my spring break, which meant going home because the dorms close. I was already not excited, but I was prepared. the problem with being away from home is I forget just how bad they are. My optimism gets the better of me and I think maybe this time they'll be better. so I decided to not hide my septum piercing.

that was a mistake. it starts a whole fight where they say we know you're trans, you're actually a girl and you always will be, we have the bones argument, they think I'm being influenced by demons or something (if only they knew about crowley) because I want to change my name, and they tell me that going on t will completely ruin my body and give me cancer and other things. They're also mad about my dyed hair, septum, and general style, and say I'm setting a terrible example for my (5) younger siblings and make it a point to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I think I'm pretty cute and fun but y'know, whatever. very fun time. I lie so much, don't give them any more details about my identity, and say I'm not planning to go on t to save my ass. which is all on instinct which makes me feel worse because if I'm really trans I should be able to stand up for that, right? maybe I'm faking the dysphoria.

the next morning I wake up really sick, and spend the rest of the week sick and feeling like shit because I'm home and back in the same place and situation I was a year ago that I thought I escaped. at one point I pretty much lose my voice but also kind of get gender euphoria from it. it's weird.

On Friday it's time for me to drive back 4 hours to school, and I make it about 3/4 of the way when google maps takes me on a random gravel road and I crash my car, really crash my car, like sideways-in-a-ditch-windows-broken-crawling-up-out-the-door crash it in the middle of nowhere. (I was fully paying attention to the road, it was raining and super slick) I call my parents because I have no one else to call and I sit in a Subway for 3 hours while they drive to get my car. when they get there they're (understandably) really mad, and they tell me that I'm not mature enough to be going to school so far away and I need to get my shit together and stop depending on them. which. is probably true. but made me feel even more stupid about the fact that I crashed my car. I get back to school and I'm still Very Sick with no energy or motivation to do anything. So I've spent the last week trying to get better and honestly to do anything. it hasn't really worked. I'm a lot better health-wise (Not emotionally), still sick but I have a lot of work due, so I really need a push to get started

[wasyago]

Falls in, i would love to hear about this decked out/failed cave exploration au pls pls pls already i am Bewitched

hehehe [in tango's voice] sighh i suppose...

really im very tempted to just let it sit and not tell anything, because it's so fun seeing people theorize and point out details in the notes. but yeah i guess i shouldn't gatekeep it, its a fun au!

i do want to state in the beginning that it was a one-off thing and i have no plans on continuing it or drawing more for it. if you do tho? feel free! (not asking for fanart by any means, but giving the green light if anyone was wondering)

well

-------

Pet crew were a group of cave explorers. They're no experts by any means but they were no amateurs either! (ignore the fact that they're not wearing any PPE, i didn't want to draw it, ok--) And recently they've been excited about mapping out a new cave system they found, completely unexplored according to their research.

Tango, always a big lover of his plans and spreadsheets, presumably decided to go in alone ahead of time to sketch out at least a rough draft for a map, so they had an idea of what they're going to be dealing with.

But see, this cave is not an ordinary cave, no matter how pristine and untouched it looked. It is one gigantic organism of unknown origin, and a hunrgy one at that, the air inside it is filled with little cells or spores that, when inhaled enough, start taking over the body and corroding it to the cave's will. Killing the host in the process.

So, obviously, after spending some time in the cave by himself, Tango did get some cells in him. Not enough to be noticeable, but enough to give him a headstart on the corruption when the group went in for a proper dive some days later.

The first symptoms of undergoing the change are pretty standard: light fever, weakness, dizziness — easy to mistake for a flu.

Which is exactly what Tango did. Of course, going caving with a flu is not a smart thing to do either, but the group has been planning this trip for so long, delaying it even more because someone was slightly under the weather would've been foolish!

The cave started off with a big drop, requiring a rope to be set up, and then sprawled into a system of tunnels. Tango and Pearl were very excited to find an entrance to some ancient tombs a couple of hours into the dive. There were stairs leading even deeper underground, which turned out to be an entrance to a bigger cave system, with a huge frozen lake in the middle and an entrance to abandoned mines.

Further symptoms include skin turning pale, graying hair, eyes starting to shift color to red. Previous symptoms remain and intensify.

Tango had always been pale, he had blond hair too, and in the dark it was hard to notice the white streaks in them. The pink cheeks were easily passed as a result of being in the cold. Pearl did express some concerns about Tango's well-being when he started to fall back a bit, but he dismissed it as just him getting tired. By that point Pearl seemed to also have some "frost" in her hair.

After the hair have fully turned white, the tips start to switch color to an unnatural blue. Skin eventually loses color completely, turning gray. Fever intensifies as body desperately tries to fight the infection.

At that point it was impossible to deny that something was wrong with Tango. There are no mirrors underground though, so to him it was just his flu getting out of hand. Guilty of hiding his illness, yes, but nothing critical. The blue hair however were not normal, and the other two were freaking out a bit more than Tango would've hoped for.

They had an argument.

Etho snapped and hit Tango to beat some sense into his stupid head.

By that point Pearl was clearly looking bad too, and Etho's own hair were apparently turning white. They were all feeling terrible, physically and mentally. They decided to head home.

As previously stated, the cave is in fact alive and can sense when something that belongs to it is trying to escape. In an effort to stop it, the whole cave system comes to life. Old animal carcasses rise and start walking, small screeching creatures begin patrolling the tombs, the ice melts and the cave blooms in dangerous ways.

When the crew exited the mines into the second level of the cave system, it was apparent that the way back would be a lot harder. By that point Tango was struggling to stand and Etho had to drop his equipment to carry him. But the fever and the dizziness were making it hard to move fast, the changed layout of the cave was difficult to navigate even with their map, and the way to the surface was still very and very long. It was obvious they couldn't make it out....

Unless they were willing to make some sacrifices.

Etho isn't proud of his decision, but leaving Tango was their only option! He and Pearl still had a chance to escape if they moved quickly, but Tango was just too far gone, he couldn't-- Etho couldn't carry him to the exit, he was getting too tired, and if they all stuck together it would get all three of them killed! Was it not better for at least two of them to survive instead of-

They had another argument.

Pearl stubbornly insisted on taking Tango, so Etho had to lie to her and say that they will come back once they scout out the way. Etho couldn't force himself to look at Tango though, if he did he would be met with this knowing look and he just couldn't bear it. Tango cried when they were leaving.

After the body succumbs to the fever it stays dead for a short period of time, while the rest of the changes set in.

It took a miracle for both Etho and Pearl to reach the tombs, but the hard part came after. Etho did everything in his power to convince Pearl to leave with him, he said they will come back later when they're better prepared, he said it was too late to help Tango, he said it was Tango's own fault, he said many bad things, none of which were enough to change Pearl's mind. She turned back and Etho didn't follow her.

He ran through the tombs and the caves alone, losing his eye to a monster he saw all too late. It was painful and it was disorienting, Etho doesn't even remember how he got to the initial drop they went down, he was panicking and only moving forward because of adrenaline and instinct. The ascend was a fever dream, Etho doesn't know how he didn't fall to his death then.

Through the rush of blood in his head, Etho heard the faint sound of Tango's voice. Too cheery for his feverish condition, and much, much closer, a lot closer than the place they left him to die in. He did not hear Pearl. The sound stopped when it was right under him, and he felt a light tug on the rope he was hanging of. And nothing else happened...

Etho emerged from the cave into the cold night, stumbling over his own feet, too tired to run. Their van was parked over by the entrance and Gem was already waiting for him. Him — shaking, bloody and alone.

...

The body reanimates again, now obedient to the cave's will. It is no longer alive but it is not dead either, frozen, stalking through the tunnels in a mindless haze.

[gloomwitchwrites]

You send him a text "Thanks for the flowers, babe" attached with a photo of a bouquet as a prank. Obvs, he gets jealous/possessive.

Anon, I love this. I cackled the first time I read it, and I've been wanting to get to it for a while. There are so many requests (and I will get to them all), but with my health being shit, I'm trying to select from the pool where I'm not overworking my brain or stressing myself out trying to come up with something. This prompt came very naturally to me.

These are all spicy. Period. I didn't hold back with this one. Maybe I'm ovulating or some shit but I literally couldn't write anything but smut for this prompt. I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope you enjoy.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: swearing, dirty talk, praise, spanking, oral sex (female & male receiving), face fucking, restraints, vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, jealousy, possessive behavior, orgasm control

Word Count: 4.4k

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it, attention stuck on Price who stands in front of a large map of Europe.

There are pictures—some have a red “X” through them while a couple others have black question marks. The mission isn’t done, but that isn’t surprising. This has taken months to complete. It’s been slow, and entirely too complicated for Simon’s liking.

His phone buzzes again, the vibration pulling his attention away.

When the third buzz comes in, his agitation turns to worry. Simon never allows messages to come through at work unless it’s from very specific people. To have three come through in less than two minutes stirs something in his gut.

Price starts talking again but Simon’s brain is melting. He reaches into his pocket and fishes out his phone. Keeping it next to his thigh, Simon awakens the screen.

Your name is there and 3 new messages.

Simon glances up, but no one is looking at him. Silently, he unlocks the phone and clicks over to his messages, tapping on your name.

At first, Simon doesn’t understand. His brain short-circuits, and then unbridled jealousy comes roaring forward.

The first message is a photo of a beautiful bouquet sitting on the kitchen island. It’s fucking large, taking up most of the space. The flowers are different shades of pink, yellow, and orange. It looks like spring.

Beneath the picture are two texts.

Thanks for the flowers!!

I love you!

But Simon did not get you flowers. He didn’t order these, and he certainly didn’t have them delivered to the flat.

Fuck. What the actual fuck.

Someone else did this.

Simon’s first thought is that Johnny did it to prank him. But Johnny has been a bit subdued today, and his attention isn’t on Simon at all.

No. It’s likely not him.

Simon locks his phone and stews. He can’t just leave this meeting. It’s important, but he’s going to get to the fucking bottom of it.

By the time Price dismisses them, Simon is already out the door, charging toward his locker to grab his stuff. It usually takes him a half hour to arrive home, but today he does it in twenty. When Simon bursts through the front door, he’s ready to toss those flowers right off the balcony.

But then he sees your face—how happy you are—and Simon melts. You throw yourself into his arms, and Simon instinctually responds, embracing you tightly. He presses his face into your hair and inhales.

“Missed you,” you say, grabbing both sides of his face and kissing him. “Thank you for the flowers.”

I didn’t get you any flowers.

Simon smiles because it’s all he can manage. That jealousy from earlier starts to curl back up, twisting around in his ribcage.

“Did you like the note?”

You frown. “What note?”

The way you ask is…odd. It’s far too innocent in the presentation. Simon knows your cues and this seems forced to him. But the sender didn’t leave a message. That doesn’t give Simon much to go on if he’s going to track down who sent them.

“Maybe they forgot,” he replies, kissing your forehead. “Show them to me.”

With a bright smile, you take his hand, guiding him into the kitchen. They’re much more stunning in person and Simon momentarily freezes. Did he forget your birthday? An anniversary? An important event?

Simon recalls nothing for today’s date.

The jealousy rises again but he clamps down on it. Anyone could have sent this, especially a friend of yours or a family member. Doesn’t mean there is someone out there with predatory intentions. And for all Simon knows, you’re having a laugh, riling me up. You’ve done it before.

“They’re lovely,” observes Simon. “Better than the picture.”

Your grin is gorgeous, a thing Simon wants to bottle up. You open your mouth to answer him but the dryer goes off. “Hold on,” you call over your shoulder as you dash away. “Let me change over the loads.”

When you disappear, Simon goes for the bouquet. He quickly checks through every flower and between the stems, even sticks his fingers in the dirt. Simon doesn’t know what the fuck he’s looking for, but he’s grasping for anything.

The only thing of note is the business card which Simon quickly plucks from its holder and tucks into his pocket. Simon steps away from the bouquet when you appear again.

Jealousy is stewing, showing its fangs, curling tighter around Simon’s ribs.

When you reach for him, Simon sweeps you off your feet, planting you on the kitchen island. You giggle, but Simon cuts it off, drawing you to the edge to seize your lips in a fierce kiss.

That jealous viper between his bones tells him to possess you.

Simon’s hands drop to your waist and then your hips. He settles himself between your legs, hands moving down to your bare thighs.

You’re flushed with embarrassment, attempting to hide your face from him, giggling his name as you fist his shirt.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” rasps Simon.

Your lips part and Simon slides his tongue inside. You moan, suck on his tongue, and release him. Simon’s grip on your thighs tightens.

“All day?” you ask softly.

Moving his hands to beneath your thighs, Simon tugs you into his arms and carries you over to the dining room table, but doesn’t place you on top of it. He brings you to your feet, and then his fingers curl around the shorts that are little more than underwear.

“Take these off.”

“Simon—”

“Do it,” he growls, releasing them and bringing his hand back to his side.

Slowly, you do as he says. You bring them up so that Simon can see them before tossing them to the side. That viper in him hisses, the venom leaking into his system.

Simon slides his hand between your thighs. You lean back against the table, hands resting on the edge as you part your legs. What his fingers find only makes him groan.

Withdrawing, Simon licks his fingers clean. “Turn around. Bend over the table. Show me what I want.” With a smirk on your lips, you face the table, and bend forward, going up on your toes.

Fuck the flowers and whoever sent them. You’re his.

Simon unbuckles the front of his belt, undoes the zipper of his pants, and frees his aching cock. He needs to be inside you, to hear you say his name, to feel you come around him. He needs to possess because it’s the only thing he can do right now.

Guiding with his hand, Simon rubs the head of his cock through your slickness. You’re already so wet for him—so fucking needy, and he’ll devour it all. Give you exactly what you want while taking something for him.

As he starts to slide in, you whimper. Reaching back, your hand grabs your ass, opening yourself a bit wider for him.

Bloody hell.

Simon doesn’t want to go slow. Using his grip on your hip, he slides all the way in, making you take him to the hilt with one forward thrust of his hips.

Your gasp is choked, and then Simon is lost, pounding into you as if this is the last time he’ll ever fuck you. It’s only your tightness, your breathy moans of pleasure, and the desperate why you say his name. It wraps around him, satiates the viper, calms the rising jealousy until it’s only you Simon can focus on.

Through the haze, Simon finds your clit, plays with it, slows his thrusts until your orgasm arrives, squeezing him so tight he almost finishes right then and there. But once that wave crests and crashes, Simon is back at it. Planting both hands on the table on either side of your waist, Simon stutters out, his lower back tensing, everything draw up.

Simon’s orgasm is an unraveling. All the tension melts as he finishes, and even then, he continues to thrust, pushing his cum deeper inside you. His chest heaves, body shuddering as he draws back a bit. Your breathing is just as labored.

Easing out of your body, Simon admires the bloom of cum at your entrance. He presses it back inside before helping you unbend from the table. Turning you around to face him, Simon claims your mouth in a deep kiss, his grasping the back of your head.

You form to him, and Simon’s hunger flares.

“To bed,” he says, drawing you away with a tug on your hair.

“To sleep?” you ask, smirking.

Maybe you did all this. Planned it all from the beginning.

Naughty girl.

Simon shakes his head. “Not yet.”

He releases you, and then smacks your ass for good measure. Squeaking, you scurry away toward the bedroom. Simon stands there for a moment, composing himself. Reaching into his pocket, he withdraws the business card. There is an address and a phone number.

Glancing over his shoulder at the bouquet, Simon comes to a decision. Stalking toward his duffle, Simon secures the business card in a side pocket. He’ll deal with this at work.

Right now, you’re getting undressed.

And Simon is much more interested in that.

Flowers can wait.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You send the final text and lock your phone, leaving it on the coffee table.

It’s just a little prank. A tease.

Kyle is always a gentleman even when he makes your toes curl and pulls unseemly sounds from between your lips. But riling him up can be just as fun. Kyle isn’t one to be jealous or even possessive of you. He’s certainly protective, and his presence always makes you feel safe, but you’re aching for something else right now.

The flowers weren’t all that expensive. And they are pretty.

Your phone buzzes. You ignore it.

It buzzes again.

When you check the screen, you see two new texts from Kyle. You stare at it, and set it back down. You’re going to let him stew and question. If anything, Kyle might think the flowers innocent.

Tapping your fingers against your knee, impatience stirring in your belly, you stare out the patio door. You need to distract yourself, but the urge to look is too strong. Snatching the phone back up, you glance at the messages.

That’s sweet, love.

But I didn’t get you flowers.

Honesty. This man is terrible at lying or hiding his feelings.

You tap out a reply.

Of course you did! Loved the note you left with it!

Kyle’s reply is instant.

Note?

You nearly cackle at the ceiling and when you hit send.

I want you tonight. You know you can have me whenever lol. No need to send flowers about it.

Within seconds of you hitting send, you phone starts to vibrate. Yelping, you nearly drop the thing. Kyle’s name and a photo of him at the beach pop up on your screen. You stare at it, allowing it to go to voicemail. He calls again immediately.

You launch off the couch, pacing as the phone falls back into voicemail. It’s a bit thrilling knowing that Kyle is likely worked up on the other end.

Answer the phone, comes Kyle’s next text, and then, I’m coming home.

Oh shit.

You are all nervous excitement waiting for him. And when he does come barreling through the door, you’re a bit shocked at the sight of him.

Slowly, he shuts the front door, striding into the kitchen where the bouquet is. He stares at it for a long moment before turning his gaze on you.

“Kyle,” you say brightly, walking toward him.

He holds up a finger and walks past you. You hear the opening and shutting of doors, of drawers being opened, and items moving around. Kyle returns, hands on his hips, concern on his features.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I didn’t send you those flowers.”

“Didn’t you?” you reply, innocently, moving toward them.

Kyle shoots forward and begins digging through the stems. “Where is that bloody card?” he mutters.

There is no card. No note. You made it all up.

“Kyle,” you say, but he ignores you.

“Un-fucking-believable,” he says, ripping opening the plastic to see inside.

“Kyle,” you repeat, adding a bit of volume behind your voice.

Again, he ignores you, scattering the flowers across the countertop.

“When I find the fucking wanker that—”

“Kyle!”

He turns, eyes a bit wild. Kyle looks ridiculous, and you suddenly feel terrible. You reach for him, placing both hands on either side of his face. “There’s no note.”

Kyle blinks like he didn’t hear you correctly. “What?”

“There’s no note,” you repeat. “I bought the flo—”

Kyle groans loudly and places his entire hand over your face, muffling the last few words. “Bloody hell, baby girl.” He lightly pushes off, dropping his hand, and stepping back.

You grin sheepishly as Kyle crosses his arms over his chest.

“What was the goal?” he asks, leaning forward a bit.

You shrug your shoulders. “To rile you up?”

Kyle laughs, short and clipped. “Rile me up?”

“Yes,” you say slowly.

He leans in a bit more, a smirk on his face. “And what do you think was going to happen once you riled me up?”

You know that Kyle already knows the answer to this question. But he’s indulging you. As he always does.

“I didn’t think that far,” you reply, but it’s far from the truth.

You wanted to rile him up so that he’d come home and fuck you like a man possessed.

Kyle bites down on his bottom lip and you track the movement. “No, love. You did.” He straightens. “And I know what you want.”

Kyle steps into your space, his head dipping as if to kiss you but pausing just before. “You need a good throat fucking. I need an apology. And then I can give you what you want.”

“Kyle,” you breathe.

“On your knees, love. Present your mouth.”

You obediently drop to your knees, and part your lips.

“Wider,” he almost growls.

You do so just as Kyle reaches down and undoes the front of his belt. He doesn’t even look. Doesn’t flinch. The belt is gone and the front of his pants are open by the time Kyle grabs your face and brings you close.

“Tongue out.”

You do so, and Kyle taps the head of his cock against it before sliding it back and forth over your tongue. His hold shifts, falling to the nape of your neck.

“Take it like a good girl. Got it?”

You nod, and Kyle draws you forward, forcing you to take all of him. Holding you in place for a few seconds, Kyle only eases you back once your gag reflex kicks in. Kyle adjusts his stance, and your hands grasp the sides of his thighs.

Kyle’s hand on the back of your neck tightens as his other hand tangles in your hair. Keeping you in place, he starts to thrust, fucking your mouth like he would your pussy. All you can do is cling to him, to hold on as he grunts above you.

There isn’t any anger there, just a stern brow and a need for control. It’s delicious. Entirely mouth-watering. Your core warms, a slickness blooming, indicating just how much this turns you on.

To bring Kyle toward his end, you make little sounds in your throat. It makes him stutter. It makes him moan. Beneath his pants, you feel the muscles in his legs tighten. And then he’s forcing you down his length, throating him entirely as he comes down your throat.

Breathing through you nose is the only thing holding you together. And when he slides you off, you cough, wiping at your lips.

Kyle’s hand caresses your cheek, drawing your gaze to him. He arches a single eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,�� you say.

Reaching out, Kyle draws you up to your feet, bringing you close. His smile is soft, and when he comes in for a kiss, it is consuming.

“Now that you’ve riled me up,” he murmurs against your lips. “I’ll give you what you want.”

Kyle pulls away, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip.

“Take off your clothes. Kneel on the bed. And bend over. Got it?”

You nod, and Kyle drops his hand.

“That’s my good girl.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny’s ears are ringing.

“You better be bloody joking,” he growls at his phone.

On the screen is a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Flowers that you’re thanking him for. Flowers that he didn’t send.

And the card? Bloody fucking hell. That card is going in the shredder. Johnny will tear it apart with his own teeth if he has to. Some fucker had the bright idea to send you flowers like he’s the one you’re dating.

No. Fuck that.

Johnny might be the demolitions expert, but he knows Ghost could dig around for him if he asked. Scratch that. Johnny is asking right fucking now.

“Hey, Lt!” Johnny jogs over to Ghost and turns his phone around. “Can you trace who sent these flowers?”

Ghost’s expression behind the balaclava remains flat. “It’s a fucking photo, Johnny.”

Cursing under his breath, Johnny forwards the image to Ghost. Ghost checks his phone, enlarging the image.

He grunts. “Should be easy.” Ghost glances up from the screen. “Why?”

“Someone making a move on my woman,” replies Johnny, holding back a growl.

“Done,” says Ghost. “Give me a couple hours.”

It doesn’t take Ghost long, and Johnny has to laugh out loud.

“You fucking naughty thing,” mutters Johnny as he unlocks the door to your flat.

When he enters, you’re nearly on your toes, eager for him. It’s cute, but you need to learn first. Sure, the prank is harmless, but you were wanting a rise out of him.

Punishment is needed.

“Johnny,” you say brightly, coming around the counter to greet him.

As you arms reach for him, Johnny removes his belt. Your gaze drops, but he is faster than you. Johnny has the belt around your wrists and secured before you can even protest.

“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly.

“Thought I wouldn’t find out?” Johnny tuts. He yanks you forward, bringing the two of you almost face-to-face. “Bought those flowers yourself.”

Johnny tugs on the belt again. You stumble into him and he spins you around. With another quick tug, Johnny has the belt looped onto one of the coat hooks embedded in the wall.

Reaching down, Johnny palms your ass, his lips pressed to your ear. “Got me all jealous at work. Had Ghost stalking the flower shop and everything.” He squeezes, and then smacks your ass. Hard.

You whimper. “Johnny. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies, love.” He kisses your throat. Your skin is soft and he inhales, savoring your scent. You’re freshly showered, and the smell of your shampoo invades his nostrils.

It doesn’t take much to rid you of your underwear. It’s just you in an old shirt and your bare ass on full display. Johnny slides his hands between you clenched thighs.

“Spread them.”

You do so obediently and a primal part of him simmers with pleasure. Johnny slowly drops to his knees behind you. He savors the view, taking his time to enjoy the sight before him. Even from here, Johnny can see how slick you are. How wanton.

He’s going to devour you. Make you beg. Deny you what it is you most want until you’re a fucking mess for him. That’s punishment enough.

Johnny tests by running one finger over your pussy. It comes back glossy. He pops it into his mouth, groaning at your taste.

“Want me to eat this pretty pussy?” asks Johnny, running his finger over you again.

You nod frantically. “Yes. Please.”

That’s a start.

Johnny leans in, the tip of his tongue playing with your entrance. He traces it with his tongue before slipping inside, slowly fucking you with it. It’s not enough, but Johnny knows this. He needs to suck on your clit and give you his fingers to make you come.

But even then, you’ll have to wait.

You’ll have to beg.

Johnny trails upward, swirling his tongue, finding your clit. He teases it. Flicks it back and forth in a steady stroke. You’re already growing wetter. You’re already moaning above him. Too bad you don’t know what’s coming.

Johnny slides one finger inside of you, pumping twice before inserting a second. You’re tight around him. He can feel the stretch.

He works you slowly, lightly thrusting his fingers in and out of your pussy as he teases your clit with his tongue. Above him, your moans come unbroken and loud. It’s sweet. He loves the sound. But Johnny knows your tells, and when your muscles begin to clench and unclench quickly, he ceases all movement.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, glancing down.

Johnny chuckles. “You have to earn it love.”

“Johnny, please,” you beg.

“What’s that, love? Didn’t hear you?”

“Please,” you say, drawing it out.

“Please what?” he prompts.

“I want to come,” you murmur.

Johnny smirks and starts fucking you with his fingers again, but doesn’t put his mouth back on your clit. It’s not enough for you. You’re squirming. Wiggling. Needing more.

“You pull another stunt like this again, love, and this,” Johnny smacks your ass with a sharp thwack, “will be red.”

“I’m sorry, Johnny. Please. Just—please.”

Johnny teases your clit with a quick swipe of his tongue. “Beg some more.”

You do. All sorts of obscene things fall from your lips. When tears form in the corner of your eyes, Johnny finally gives you relief.

He fucks your gorgeous pussy with his fingers. He tastes and teases until you’re crying out, clamping around him as you come undone.

Johnny withdraws. Straightens.

You’re still hanging on the hook.

He frees you from it, but does not remove the belt from around your wrists. Johnny presses you against him with a flat palm upon your stomach.

“Don’t do that again,” he murmurs.

“I won’t.”

Johnny kisses your throat. “To bed.”

You frown, holding up your bound hands. “But the belt.”

“Stays on,” he says, fisting the tangling leather. “Until I’m done with you.”

John Price

John isn’t one for texting.

You’ll send him a barrage of texts only for him to call you hours later asking what you were texting him about.

Which is why you didn’t think this plan would work.

But then it did, and now you’re bent over John’s lap, bare ass in the air.

John told you that he was working late to catch up on paperwork. Whenever that happens, he always gives you a call to check-in and hear your voice. It’s routine at this point. A comfort. Most of the time, he just wants you on the other side, to have you talk about the day or whatever you want while he’s working. John will usually remain silent, listening, basking in your voice.

You planned it perfectly, knowing that he’d check his phone before giving you a call. You sent the photo of the flowers. A beautiful display really. And they were on sale. You also sent him a picture of the makeshift “note” that you made for it. All it said was “thinking of you” with no name. All of that was follow up by a “thank you” and promises to please him later.

John was calm when he called you—almost eerily so. When you thanked him from the flowers, he didn’t reply. He simply pushed past it. The thing is, John saved all of that energy up for when he came home.

Your ass stings. John rubs the spot he just smacked before squeezing.

“Now, love. Tell me the truth.” He says it so sweetly, like it’s such a simple thing.

And you don’t know how much longer you’ll last under this barrage.

“You bought them for me,” you whimper, keeping up the façade.

John shakes his head. “We both know that’s not true.” He squeezes your ass again, the sting burning slightly when he let’s go.

“I’d guess you’re seeing someone else but that would be lie. Wouldn’t it?”

He punctuates this statement by slipping his hand between your thighs, his fingers running over your pussy, parting your slickness. John dips one finger inside and then another, only to retreat and grab your ass cheek with the same hand.

“I know just how to make you wet, love. You have no one else to run to.”

“I told you—Fuck! John!” You jolt in his lap as his palm comes down on your already throbbing cheek.

“Be honest, love. Or you’ll get a few more.”

You swallow down your pride. You wanted him riled up, but you weren’t expecting this. Not for John to come home, strip you down, and bend you over his lap.

“I bought them,” you grumble.

John’s hand eases. “You what?”

“I bought them,” you snap.

“I knew you did.”

Before you have the chance to form a retort, John guides you up and into his lap. He grabs the front of your throat, bringing you close to him. He does not kiss you. He simply hovers.

“You’re going to straddle my lap and bounce on my cock until I fill you up. You understand?”

You nod, and Price let’s go of your throat.

“Get to it,” he purrs.

John is fully clothed, and you’re wearing nothing at all. You undo the clasp of his belt, pull the zipper, and he flexes his hips enough that you can work his pants down a bit. When his hard length is free to you, you straddle him, lining yourself up.

He remains impassive as you start to sink down. The stretch is perfect—as it always is, and you groan as you seat yourself entirely on his cock. Gripping his shoulders, you roll up and back down, rocking when you can to give your legs a break.

John still stays quiet but his gaze is assessing. Slowly, his hand comes around your neck again, and this time he squeezes slightly. It’s not to hurt. It’s to dominate and possess.

“Who do you belong to, love?” he asks.

“You,” you murmur, sinking down on him.

“Say it again,” repeats John.

“I belong to you,” you gasp, coming up and then back down.

“Again,” and this time there’s a growl in his tone.

“I’m yours, John.”

“Fucking right,” he says, crashing his mouth to yours.

The kiss is a claiming, one that shoots through your body and consumes your limbs and control. You shudder, pussy clenching, and then John is fucking up into you, his hands on your hips.

You’re no longer in control. It’s just John, and his need to possess.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @cherryofdeath @sapphichotmess

@saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett @ravenpoe67

@tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @ninman82 @lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg

@yawning-grave81 @azkza @haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff

@cod-z @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic

@talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @suhmie

@ash-tarte @eternallyvenus @spookyscaryspoon @vrb8im @enarien

@nishim @lovely-ateez @thewulf @certainlygay @miaraei

@spicyspicyliving @kidd3ath @no-oneelsebutnsu @beebeechaos @lxblm

@jackrabbitem @jaggersinclair @dakotakazansky @daemondoll @keiva1000

[honeyedmiller]

Mr. Bakery Man

baker!joel miller x f!reader

rating: none

synopsis: it’s not every day you get to move from nyc to austin for your job and relish in a pleasant change of pace. it’s also not every day that you discover a cute family owned bakery in the heart of austin—and it’s definitely not every day that you meet the owner and fall head over heels for him.

warnings: this is pure, innocent tooth-rotting fluff ; fun flirting, we’ll call this one a hallmark type beat lol, sarah and ellie are both in this, joel is down bad in this (but so is reader), no use of y/n.

word count: 3.3k

a/n: this was supposed to be for @punkshort’s au writing challenge but i’m hella late on it. life has been crazy lately, but thanks for sticking with me during my unintentional hiatus 🤍

Moving from New York City to Austin Texas had been an oddity in life’s recent escapades. 

Your job had asked if anyone in your department was willing to do the big move because the office in Austin needed a strong journalist on their growing team. With the rest of your colleagues having kids and spouses, nobody was interested in uprooting their whole life to move to a completely different state. 

You, on the other hand, wanted to get out of New York. You yearned for new opportunities, and when this one arose, you didn’t hesitate to tell your boss you were interested. 

You’d been slowly settling into Austin, getting used to life in another city with a completely different atmosphere. You were grateful your new colleagues were all very nice and welcoming. 

The one thing you’d say you missed dearly back in New York City, though, was this amazing bakery off of Fifth you’d frequent before work. Their coffee and croissants were delicious, which is what led you to go on a Google hunt to see what bakeries were good around here in Austin. 

One caught your eye immediately—Sarah & Ellie’s— with five star reviews and multiple photos of all the sweets they had to offer. It was a cozy little café and bakery mixed into one with a homey, warm vibe and cute decorations. You mapped it to see how long it would take you to get to the place, and to your luck, it was only a ten minute walk from your apartment complex. So, you decided you were going to go first thing in the morning before work. 

And for some reason, you felt excited to try a new place. Maybe it was a sign of finally getting used to living in a completely different state, fifteen hundred miles away from your old life. 

You luckily got used to being an early riser, so once morning had rolled around, you were up n’ at ‘em by six thirty. You left your house around seven, making your way down to Sarah & Ellie’s. 

The shop felt more homey than it looked online. As soon as you stepped in, there was already a short line of customers and a waft of delicious baked goods and coffee that filled your senses. You suddenly yearned for a home you’d never even been to. 

You stood in line and observed the menu, deciding on sticking with a classic chocolate croissant and latte for the time being. You wanted to see if this place held a candle up to the place off of Fifth. 

The older gentleman in front of you greeted the cashier with a bright smile, and she immediately typed in an order. 

“Hey Randy, how’s it going?” 

“Hey sweet pea. Just here for my usual mornin’ coffee and danish,” he says, handing the girl a ten dollar bill. She counts out the change and closes the register with her hip before returning his beaming smile to him. “Tell your old man to stop workin’ so damn hard. Cheryl says I need to lay off the sweets once in a while, but I can’t do that if all his baked goods are too delicious to resist.” Randy pats his stomach with a satisfied hum, and the girl laughs. 

“I’ll be sure to pass on the message. Have a good one!” 

After she waves him off, she locks eyes with you and gives you the same beaming smile as you stepped up to the register. 

“What can I get ya, Miss?” she asks, tone cheery and light. 

“I’ll take a chocolate croissant and a latte, please.” 

She nods and rings in your order, grabbing a cup to write your name on it. 

“Not to intrude or anything, but are you new ‘round here?” Her tone is still light, laced with pure curiosity as the sharpie pen hovers over the latte cup. 

You gave her a smile and nodded meekly, “I am.” 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Sarah.” 

You give her your name and her smile never wavers, scribbling your name on the cup. 

“Let me get that chocolate croissant for you—” she started, but was accidentally cut off by a man opening the door that separated the front of the café from the back. 

“Hey babydoll, do we have anymore—” the man stops abruptly, eyes landing on you. A black apron adorned his clearly thick and strong physique, flour dusted on his hands and arms. He was tall, and had a sweet glint in his brown eyes that made warmth flood your whole body. He had a head full of thick brown curls with grays strewn in here and there, and the mustache along with the stubble on his chin mirrored the streaks in his hair.

He instantly gave off a charming aura, and when he smiled at you, you were a goner. 

“Hello Miss. Don’t think we’ve ever met before,” he says, dusting his hands off on the apron before extending one to you. His Southern accent dripped like thick, pure honey, and it made your skin burn hot. 

You couldn’t hold back your smile when you reached your hand out to shake his. It might’ve sounded cliché as hell, but the sudden surge you got from just touching him made every single cell in your body alert, yearning for more. 

“I’m new in the city,” you explain, “Just moved here not too long ago.” 

“Ah, makes sense. Think I’d remember ya even if you didn’t come in often.” 

You’re taken aback by his words. Was he… flirting? You felt your face heat, and your eyes nervously flit to the glass case full of delicious looking pastries. Well, if he was flirting, there’s no harm in doing it back… right? 

“Me coming in often depends,” you find yourself grinning like a fool, “Do your pastries taste as good as they look and smell?” 

“They’re the best in Austin,” he winks, and with that, murmurs something to Sarah before giving you one last smile before walking to the back again. 

Sarah can’t help but giggle as she hands you your croissant. “It’s on the house,” she waves her hand as you pull out your wallet, and you stop short to give her a confused look. She clocks the expression on your face and grins. “Dad said.” 

“That’s your dad?” You didn’t mean to pry, you were just taken aback. 

“Mhm. Family owned and operated bakery,” you immediately hear the pride in her voice, and you can’t help but smile. “I’ll have your latte out in a minute.” 

You grin and nod, stepping over to the other side of the counter. You decided to take a bite of your croissant while you waited for your latte, and god, it was the best pastry you think you’d ever had. The croissants on Fifth had nothing against these gooey, decadent, flaky treats. 

You nearly had to hold back a moan, and the man—Randy, you think—laughed beside you. 

“Good, ain’t they?” he asks, and you nodded expeditiously. 

“Probably the best croissant I’ve ever had.” 

Randy nods in agreement, “Miller’s the best baker in Austin. Been comin’ here since his girls were little.” 

And you finally figured that Ellie must be his other daughter. It warmed your heart that he’d name his place after his two girls, clearly his pride and joy. 

“That’s so nice,” you say, and give him a quick wave goodbye when his order is called out. 

“Hopefully I’ll see you again soon,” Randy shot you a smile before taking a sip of his drink, and you nod at him with a smile before you turn your attention to your name being called out. Sarah handed you your drink and you thanked her, taking a cautious sip. 

Even the latte was superb. You were one hundred percent sold on this place, and maybe even a little smitten with the owner. 

Yeah, you’d definitely be coming back. 

-

A month passes by before you know it, and you’re now deemed an honorable regular at Sarah & Ellie’s. You’ve met Ellie, who was a total opposite of her sister—but you loved both of their personalities all the same. You learned that Ellie was going to art school and you promised her you’d buy a commissioned piece. 

Sarah was going to school for business, studying to take over the bakery one day, and possibly even expand it as a franchise. You told her you’d be at the grand opening the day that it happens. 

As for the owner, Mr. Miller—or, Mr. Bakery Man, you teasingly called him—kept the flirting subtle but fun. You looked forward to the playful banter you two’d exchange, and it always earned a raised brow and a not-so-subtle smirk from either Sarah or Ellie. 

Unbeknownst to you, they’d tease their father about the ‘crush’ he had on the pretty regular that came in and how he should buck up and ask you on a date. 

And he planned to do just that. When you went in on a Saturday morning, you were surprised to see him working the front counter instead of one of the girls. 

“Well if it isn’t Mr. Bakery Man,” you say, and he runs a hand through his hair. 

“In the flesh,” he says, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“Girls didn’t come in today?” You lean up against the counter as he grabs a latte cup, writing your name out on it. He hesitates for a moment, but continues to write on it before setting it down on the opposite countertop. 

“Nah. Sarah was up late doing homework and it’s Ellie’s turn to have Saturday off.”

You nod in understanding, pulling out your wallet. He stops you and shakes his head, and you scoff. 

“You have to let me pay, Mr. Miller. You can’t keep giving me these discounts.” 

“Don’t worry about it, darlin’,” his smile was shy, and he was fidgety—almost like he was scared. Right when you opened your mouth to ask him if he was okay, he cut you off. 

“Would you wanna go on a date with me?” His words were rushed, and your heart melted at how nervous he sounded. 

You paused your movements completely, meeting those warm brown eyes that made you feel so safe. 

“I’d love to,” you answered, and relief visibly washed over his features. 

“Great. I, uh, wrote my name and number on your cup. Hope you don’t mind,” he says, and you have to bite back a smile. Then you suddenly realized you never even knew this man’s first name. You’d just stuck with calling him the nickname you gave him, or by his last name. 

You took the cup from him gingerly as he finished making your drink a few minutes later, and turned it in your hand to see his name and number scrawled on the side as promised. 

Joel. 

The name fit the gorgeous man in front of you. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, and your palm landed on his insanely toned bicep with reassurance. 

He stared at you, the warmth in his eyes nearly making you weak in the knees. 

“I promise I’ll call you,” you say, giving his bicep a soft squeeze. Your hand falls to your side again before grabbing the croissant from the counter that you didn’t notice until now, and you eagerly took a bite. 

Joel wanted to laugh at the chocolate on the side of your mouth as you tilted the pastry toward him. He restrained himself from reaching up and wiping it from your mouth, but you beat him to it by using your knuckle to wipe it off. 

“Compliments to the chef.” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows. 

He couldn’t help but admire your playful side, ecstatic that you agreed to go out with him. 

“Anythin’ for you darlin’,” he said, and you left the bakery that day with a smile on your face that you couldn’t wipe. 

That night, you found yourself pacing back and forth in your apartment as you chewed on your bottom lip. Your phone was clutched in your hand, keypad open and ready to dial. Your other hand had the empty coffee cup with his name and number. 

You didn’t know why you were battling this in your head. Is it weird? Is it too late to call him? No—No, it’s not weird. He’s the one who asked you out, after all. 

Fuck it. 

You sighed as you dialed the number on the cup, pressing the phone up to your ear. Within seconds, Joel’s deep voice rang through the other line. 

“Hello?” He sounded a bit tired, voice hoarse from what had to be a long day. 

“Hey Mr. Bakery Man,” you said in hopes of lifting his spirits even in the slightest. 

His deep chuckle that sounded through the receiver had a warmth blooming in your chest. Even his laugh alone made you feel good inside—like a cup of hot cocoa in your hands on a cold night while you’re in your pajamas sitting fireside. 

Did it sound kind of insane? Sure. Did you care? No. 

The feelings you’d felt toward him almost blindsided you, but something in your gut told you that Joel would be a constant in your life from here on out. 

“Hey darlin’. How’s your day been?” He asks. 

“Good, good,” you pause for a moment, “So about that date…” 

“I was thinkin’ some dinner? Friday night at seven?” 

“That’s perfect. I can’t wait.” 

-

Friday night rolled around, and Joel was kicking himself for not exactly having a plan B. For some reason, the reservations he made got mixed up and you couldn’t be seated. 

You assured him that it was okay, and that his presence was enough for you to enjoy yourself. 

You both decided to get some pasta to-go and eat your food at a park nearby. Even though you both were dressed to the nines and didn’t exactly blend in, you couldn’t care less. You were enjoying your time with him and getting to know the amazing man that he is. 

He opened up and talked about how Sarah and Ellie were both his pride and joy, how he had Sarah really young and adopted Ellie later on, how he sometimes helped his brother Tommy in the contracting business, and how he’s loved to bake in the kitchen with his mom ever since he was a young boy. 

“Didn’t really think I’d make a career out of it,” he confesses. 

“Looks like it worked out for you really well though,” you nudge his side gently. You were settled onto a bench with him then, closer to each other than anticipated. Neither of you said a word, though. 

Being by Joel’s side radiated nothing but safety and comfort. It felt natural, like you two were meant to find your way to each other. 

“Guess so. ‘S funny though. I meet new people every day because of the bakery and, forgive me ‘f this is too bold to say, but meeting you has completely thrown me off my game,” he chuckles, and you furrow your brows. 

“What do you mean?” You try not to feign hurt in your tone, but he wraps his arm around your shoulders and brings you into his warm body. You’re engulfed in his scent, and you could stay here forever, you thought to yourself. 

“Don’t mean it as a bad thing, sweetheart. I mean you’ve been on my mind constantly, and truth be told, I didn’t think you’d ever agree to go on this date with me. ‘M not really one to put myself out there and go on dates, but somethin’ about you made me want to get to know ya more,” he explained, and you nodded your head in understanding. 

“I get it. I didn’t know what to expect when I moved out here. I always buried myself in work and didn’t pay much attention to dating someone, but I’d like to say this turn of events has been pleasant.” 

He can’t help but grin foolishly at your words. 

“‘M glad it worked out this way too. Y’know my girls pushed me to ask you out? Not that I didn’t want to in the first place, but ‘m… not very good at this,” he waves his hand to the side.  

You could easily picture Sarah and Ellie giving Joel a hard time, hounding him to ask you out. 

“Your girls know what’s best,” you tease, and he can’t help but let out a hearty laugh. “But you’re doing just fine, Mr. Miller. I promise.” 

“Even if I goofed and our reservation got messed up?” 

“Joel, I wouldn’t care if you took me to Whataburger for a date. It’s the company that matters,” you say, and you could’ve sworn you saw him blush. 

“Where have you been all my life?” His question sounded like it was meant to be directed just to himself, but you leaned in and gave his cheek a kiss. 

“Probably in New York City,” you shrugged. 

“You and your sarcasm,” he said, shoulders shaking from laughing. 

“Hey, you’re the one who asked me out. That’s on you,” and Joel couldn’t help the pride that bloomed within his chest. 

“Sure did. What do ya say? Wanna head back to the bakery for a cup of coffee and croissant?” 

“What, like a nightcap, but sweet?” You grinned, and he nods. 

“Somethin’ like that.” 

“I’d love to.” 

Joel offered you his arm and you wrapped your hand around his bicep, staying close to him as you both walked back to his truck. 

It didn’t take long to get back to the bakery. Joel made you some coffee with creamer and sugar while he drank his black. He made you a croissant too as promised, and you couldn’t help but gush to him about how you loved his baking. You’d tried a few other things off the menu since you started coming into the shop, but the croissants were what stole your heart. 

You and him sat there for what seemed like hours just talking and getting to know each other on a deeper level. You told him about your family, your dreams and aspirations, what made you want to become a journalist, and what drove you to reach your goals. 

He loved that you were so ambitious—he didn’t come across too many people these days that seemed to know exactly what they wanted in life. You impressed him, and as he sat across from you listening to you talk about work, he knew you were the woman for him. 

He would’ve deemed himself crazy not even a few months ago for thinking such a thing, but hell, if you know you know. 

So the months passed by, and you two became inseparable.

Both of you didn’t think you’d meet someone like this, let alone someone you both could see sharing a life with. This man, all kind hearted and selfless and a big teddy bear who treated you like a goddess, was the man that swept you off your feet and made you see that work isn’t everything life had to offer. 

You took that leap of faith to move to Austin, not knowing the outcome it would have. But, you sure as hell were so glad that it happened. That this thing with Joel happened. You were decently happy with your life before you met him and let him in, but now, you felt as if you’d been on cloud nine for months. 

You were helping Joel close up the bakery one Sunday evening when he turned to you and confessed that he loved you, and he couldn’t imagine his life without you. Neither could the girls. You’d changed him for the better, even if it hadn’t even been a year of knowing each other. 

You’d said it right back to him, and with flour still lingering on his hands, he’d grabbed your face and kissed you like you were the air his lungs needed, the blood to keep his heart pumping, and his god-given solace. 

And you thought, this was exactly where you were meant to be—safe in his arms, full of love, with a whole lifetime with him to look forward to. 

He was it for you. You'd won the heart of the charming Southern gentleman—your Mr. Bakery Man. 

dividers by @saradika-graphics

p.s. sorry if this sucked i’m genuinely so rusty w writing rn. thanks for understanding <3

[astonmartinii]

big reputation part two | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem reader

a new season dawns but that doesn't mean we don't have a map to our buried hatchets

MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI? | PART ONE

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 3,221,783 others

charles_leclerc: ferrari has been home for as long as i can remember, even before i joined the academy, the dream of driving for ferrari gave me a purpose. i am heartbroken it hasn't worked out, but formula one is, at the end of the day, a selfish sport and i have to think about my real goal here: to win a championship. ferrari has an amazing history, but that is what it is history. in the four years i have been here i haven't seen the drive and ambition to be as ruthless and as complete as they were with michael and with kimi. therefore i have to leave. it hurts me to leave the tifosi, but know you're always in my heart and i will always hold dear your support. grazie regazzi essere ferrari ❤️

view all comments

user3: i knew it was coming but HOLY FUCK CHARLIE COME HOME

user4: tifosi lecfosi YES SIR

user5: for real i'm down for him not that clown team

yourusername: i'm proud of you charlie, i knew how much this took. but you have to put yourself first at some point. i love you

charles_leclerc: i love you too. i'm sorry i can't stop crying

yourusername: no i love that you are so passionate. it's been a long season and you're finally allowed to let it all out

charles_leclerc: can we go to a rage room?

yourusername: FUCK YEA

maxverstappen1: pretty please may i join. i have a lot of rage. call it teammate bonding?

charles_leclerc: give me a tow in bahrain quali?

maxverstappen1: fine (NO ONE SCREENSHOT THIS OR HOLD ME TO IT)

yourusername: at least this one i don't mind having to third wheel us

user6: the SHADE that's mother right there

user7: trying to stay insanely normal over the fact that max, charles and y/n are besties

pierregasly: congrats calmar, HOWEVER, i though i was your favourite third wheel 🥰

yourusername: but you bring kika ??? how can you third wheel if kika is there? DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW TO COUNT?

charles_leclerc: thank you pear i love you brother

user8: i love how this is some super sentimental post and y/n is asking pierre if he can count i hope they never change

landonorris: max as fave third wheel ??? @alexalbon @georgerussll63 twitch quartet erasure

yourusername: womp womp

alexalbon: WOMP WOMP?

charles_leclerc: guys i'm sad about leaving my dream team where is the compassion?

georgerussell63: yeah boo hoo there are bigger things at play here I DID NOT SIT THROUGH YOUR TEN HOUR MELTDOWN ON AN APPROPRIATE TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY GIFT NOT TO BE TOP THIRD WHEEL

yourusername: you fools really will argue about anything huh

landonorris: this is the sanctity of our friendship on the line here

user9: the grid was really like YOU might be sad about leave ferrari but we ain't

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,421,455 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: holibobs with sharlie

view all comments

user10: i love as soon as the season finishes charles becomes THEE instagram boyf

user11: j.peg account? no. just taking photos of y/n? YES.

charles_leclerc: i have an eye for beauty

yourusername: heheheheheheehehehehehee

alexalbon: so he can use a camera? why does he only take 0.5s of me?

yourusername: the best angle for your big ol dome

alexalbon: EXCUSE ME ?

yourusername: yeah sorry that was a bit far

alexalbon: it's like you got off the ferrari leash and now we all have to suffer

yourusername: WELP

charles_leclerc: ma belle, the only one i'll actually listen to and put sun cream on

yourusername: yes you will because we...

charles_leclerc: put spf on everyday !!

yourusername: yes! because...

charles_leclerc: we're scared of aging?

yourusername: no?

charles_leclerc: we want to be safe 👍

maxverstappen1: you guys done with the kindergarten reading lessons?

yourusername: have you seen lobster leclerc? this kind of work needed to be done

user12: lobster leclerc? goodbye, goodbye, goodbye you were bigger than the whole sky

user13: see now i'm confused cause why are some papers saying that they're breaking up? or that charles is embarrassed by the way y/n acts?

user14: bestie we've been through this DON'T TRUST THOSE HOES - TRUST THESE HOES

liked by yourusername

user15: unless i see it from the horse's mouth I WILL NEVER BELIEVE THEY'VE BROKEN UP

redbullracing

liked by yourusername, christianhorner and 882,339 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1

redbullracing: charles the qualifying king takes his first pole position for red bull in his first race and is joined by max for a front row lockout

view all comments

user18: UNWELL

user19: suck on that ferrari xoxo

user20: *rubs eyes* is that... max being happy to be challenged by a teammate ???

user21: winning three championships really takes the heat off huh

yourusername: THAT'S MY MAN YALL

charles_leclerc: love you baby

yourusername: love you too darling

maxverstappen1: love you three 🫶

yourusername: this is not the problem i thought we'd have when coming to red bull

maxverstappen1: my gf can't make most of the races so you WILL deal with me

user22: max being clingy to charles and y/n is so fucking funny to me

user23: sainz not making it out of q1? shwartzman only making it to q2 but still out qualifying carlos? charles looking sexy in blue? EVERY TONGUE THAT RISES AGAINST CHARLES LECLERC SHALL FALL

christianhorner: mega job boys, let's keep our eyes on tomorrow

maxverstappen1: tell them they have to let me come to dinner with them

christianhorner: isn't this the exact reason we rehired daniel

charles_leclerc: PLEASE MAKE DANIEL COME TO THE NEXT RACE

maxverstappen1: erm rude

charles_leclerc: i'm sorry i'm not used to a teammate that actually wants to be friends for real

yourusername: EXCEPT SEB WE LOVE SEB

yourusername: but for real max emilian i am monitoring the dutch papers... be very careful

user24: healthy teammate relationships (for now) ??? is this what heaven is like

user25: are you telling me that if max doesn't get the lead in the first lap he might actually HELP charles .... a certain spanish individual could never

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 2,778,451 others

tagged: yourusername, maxverstappen1

charles_leclerc: wow !! a 1 - 2 in our first race i couldn't be happier. this car is a dream to drive and i'm so grateful to red bull for being so welcoming. teamwork makes the dream work

view all comments

user26: tears in my eyes

user27: okay i understand both of them are like with their forever partners but lestappen is also real TWO THINGS CAN EXIST AT ONCE

yourusername: SHARLIE OMG YOU TALENTED, TALENTED KING

charles_leclerc: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

yourusername: crying sesh. sharlie's drivers room @ 8. bring your own alcohol and tissues

charles_leclerc: just to make sure everyone knows THESE ARE HAPPY TEARS

landonorris: SAP ALERT GET IT TOGETHER MAN

yourusername: i know lando no-wins ain't talking rn 🤨

charles_leclerc: you walked into that one buddy

landonorris: just because i'm friends with carlos doesn't mean you have to come after me like him ...

this comment has been deleted

yourusername: bold... real bold. you're lucky i'm doing meditation and yoga (and that i want to make a good impression on christian)

alexalbon: lando do NOT look at the text she just sent your your ego CANNOT take it

user28: no no no do spill... i need the ammo if he ever takes out my fave

user29: true i need it for the next time either of the ugly twins at ferrari open their gobs

oscarpiastri: it was brutal. they need to get y/n to host the reading challenge on drag race

yourusername: oscar knows drag race?

oscarpiastri: i might be an athlete but i'm not completely uncultured

maxverstappen1: if we're talking being cultured... GET READY FOR YOUR FIRST RED BULL PARTY

yourusername: born ready my university years singlehandedly financed your 'catering budget'

charles_leclerc: no really i think she's actually addicted to the tropical one

maxverstappen1: are you FUCKING KIDDING ME? IT WAS YOU WHO DRANK ALL OF THEM

yourusername: and what?

maxverstappen1: idk i'm still kinda scared of you

user30: the way charles deflected the questions about fred and sainz ? WE'RE FREEEEEEEEE

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,311,723 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: i wanna be your end game <3

view all comments

user32: you guys better be end game or like you're paying for my therapy

user33: i respect her dedication to go to every race, make ferrari staff tremble in fear and pull LOOKS

charles_leclerc: i want to be your first string

yourusername: what if we just called taylor up?

charles_leclerc: you know here you call her i'm nervous

yourusername: @taylorswift paris night one, lover and this is me trying ft. charles on the piano?

taylorswift: sure thing

charles_leclerc: why was that so easy?

yourusername: better get practising baby

charles_leclerc: OH GOD

user34: how did we get red bull charles and a taylor collab in one year?

user35: i guess we used up charles' good luck from the last four years SORRY CHARLES

charles_leclerc: i guess you're forgiven...

maxverstappen1: so could you like tell me what you'd call me if i hypothetically fucked charles over... i'm not gonna but like i need to mentally prepare myself to hear it

yourusername: i have faith in you so i haven't thought that far ahead

maxverstappen1: can you please not be too mean i can't take it

charles_leclerc: you wanna come to therapy with me buddy?

maxverstappen1: i think i might

yourusername: when we entered the reputation era i did not think it would lead to taking max verstappen to therapy

maxverstappen1: and taylor swift?

yourusername: ... and taylor swift

user36: this is all very cute and all but can we have mean y/n back

user37: when will yall learn that reputation is a love album and y/n and charles are just loving each other freely

user38: but mean y/n did teach someone a lesson in not spreading false rumours cause them tabloids have been QUIET

f1tea

liked by user43, user44 and 7,233 others

f1tea: carlos sainz was caught liking these tweets about charles leclerc and y/n y/ln, what do you think?

view all comments

user45: put me in the ring with carlos i am being so serious

user46: okay for a while i was on the fence about y/n and how intense she was being but like seeing this shit and realising it was probably what was being said in the garage she needed to do more

user47: for real if someone said that about my boyfriend i'd be in prison

user48: so charles and y/n were under contract to not say a word out of line about ferrari or anything to do with ferrari and this guy is out here liking this

user49: call me a conspiracy theorist but this was his public account... he meant for people to find it and wants people to know this stuff

user50: this is why he DNFed in the first race KARMA

user51: maybe this is why he's always the one with relationship issues bro clearly has no loyalty

user52: charles has never said anything about him even now and y/n only said something in retaliation

user53: fuck peace and love y/n needs to give this man hell

user54: read him for filth

user55: bro needs to keep his twitter fingers to himself and focus on not being in the wall ❤️

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 2,311,885 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: this is why we can't have nice things, darling

view all comments

user56: this is the most response we'll ever get from charles i fear

user57: allow me to elaborate: this is why we can't have nice things by taylor swift is about 'forgiving' the people who wronged you but she literally says "and here's to you because forgiveness is a nice thing to do... i can't even say it with a straight face" so basically charles doesn't forgive carlos or fred. and it specifically shouts out her family and friends and lover for sticking with her which is what charles' family, friends and y/n have done

liked by charles_leclerc

user58: thank you for service

yourusername: i'm reading what they call you lately (it says you're a race winner and a title contender)

charles_leclerc: got a taste of the celebrations and can't get enough

maxverstappen1: KEEP IT PG THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE

charles_leclerc: you're older than me

yourusername: all we said were celebrations, if anything you have the dirty mind 🤨

maxverstappen1: i am usually in the room next to you, i hope this helps

charles_leclerc: our bad <3

maxverstappen1: you don't care do you?

yourusername: not really no. when we get to the same amount of wins as you maybe it'll wear off

maxverstappen1: not on my watch

user58: is this an entertaining title fight but without the bad blood?

user59: and nowhere near ferrari? bless

alexalbon: i hate that i understand all these references

yourusername: lily trained you well

lilymunhe: like a drill sergeant

yourusername: as you should

sebastianvettel: proud of you charlie, i'm glad you're not wasting your talent

charles_leclerc: i love you seb, i'm sorry it took so long

sebastianvettel: make sure you win here, we can be ferrari failures together

yourusername: *ferrari failed you

sebastianvettel: i knew there was a reason i liked you

fin.

note: SOZ. so like i am still working on requests but that radio message FUCKED ME UP. so this had to happen. glad my queen girls (max and charles) did well today, hope you enjoyed !!!

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Dutch Courage

Summary: When Max Verstappen invites Lando to celebrate King’s Day with him, he can hardly refuse. Especially when it’s a great opportunity to spend time with the Dutch man’s sister.

Lando Norris x Verstappen!Reader

WC: 2.9K

Warnings: Alcohol (over)consumption, curse words

Masterlist

The first time Lando really came in contact with the Dutch culture was during his first Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the race, the enthusiasm of the people, and the taste of stroopwafels immediately made him like the Netherlands. When Max introduced him to more Dutch traditions and told him about the extreme celebrations of the King’s birthday, he couldn’t believe it. His experiences with the Queen’s birthday were completely different, much more sophisticated and ceremonial than the Dutch celebrations. You could say he was gobsmacked when he saw the videos; people dressed all in orange, filling the streets and canals, drunkenly partying like it was a festival. When Max extended an invitation to join him next April, Lando accepted straight away, eager to experience the unique tradition.

And so, next April 27th, Lando found himself in Amsterdam. He was passing tons of people stalling out their stuff on blankets, sitting on folding chairs by their improvised shops. They were all dressed in orange, of course. Lando, himself, had also adhered to the dress code. Sporting his orange hoodie, he’s ready to party all day long.

Lando made his way through the city, Google maps opened on his phone as he navigated the streets of Amsterdam. Luckily, Max’s apartment building was easy to find. Lando rang the doorbell, grinning when he spotted his Dutch friend. Lando could already hear the noise coming from the apartment while he greeted Max, the sound of music and singing passing through the walls.

“Hey man, what’s up?” He asked.

“Nothing much. What about you?” Max responded while welcoming Lando into his second home, leading him into the hallway.

Lando was about to answer his question, but the unexpected sight in the living room disrupted his train of thought. A confused frown etched itself onto his face, and he asked, “Why are there so many girls in your house? Don’t you have a girlfriend already?”

Max laughed at the question, “Oh yeah, they're my sister’s friends,” he responded nonchalantly as if they weren’t appropriating his apartment.

“You sister’s friends? Why are they taking over your place?”

“They’re getting ready to go out in a bit. Since I live closer to the centre than Y/N, they’re leaving from here. I told them to stay the night too, I don’t want Y/N and her friends to travel home in the middle of the night when they’re all drunk.”

Lando nodded as he observed the herd of girls getting ready. It was a mess – even compared to how his sisters got ready. They were doing lots of things at the same time: passing the phone around to pick music, singing along to whatever Dutch song was playing, taking pictures, talking, doing their makeup, fixing their hair, picking out accessories and putting flags on their faces; it was complete chaos, but they didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll get you some water, mate,” Max said before walking to the kitchen, leaving Lando alone with the women. 

It took a while for Y/N to spot Lando, but when she did, she came over right away. “Lando! How are you? I haven’t seen you in such a long time!” She said excitedly as she pulled him in for a hug.

“I’m good. It’s your fault we haven’t seen each other in so long, you never come to races anymore,” 

“Yeah, sorry about that. Life’s been busy. So, I hear today’s your first King’s Day, are you excited?”

Lando chuckled, “Ah, yes it is. Of course, I’m excited. I’ve been told it’s quite the experience!”

“It certainly is. I would’ve expected you to wear more orange though, isn’t it your team’s colour?” She questioned him teasingly.

“Is my hoodie not enough?” He asked, looking down at his outfit.

“Oh Lando, you know it’s not! Didn’t Max show you the videos? Come, I’ll put some flags on your face,” she said as she pulled him into the group of girls. 

They all greeted him enthusiastically as Y/N searched through the pile of orange and red-white-and-blue-coloured accessories, looking for something that would fit Lando. She pulled out a ribbon of the Dutch flag and grinned widely. Lando stood still as Y/N wrapped the ribbon around his head like a headband and tied it with a bow. “Very coquette, I’m sure your lady fans will love it,” she murmured and grabbed his jaw to turn his face to the side. A look of focus overtook her features as she gently applied the face paint to Lando’s cheeks. 

Lando was caught off guard at the situation he found himself in. He had barely stepped foot in the apartment and he was already being pulled in all kinds of directions as the whirlwind of women fussed over him, dressing him up for their sacred holiday. He caught Max’s eyes over Y/N’s shoulder, silently pleading for rescue, but Max merely laughed at the situation in which Lando had trapped himself, not offering any assistance. Instead, he stood by and watched with amusement as Y/N picked out things for Lando to wear and offered him an orange poncho for the rain that would probably come later today. Lando had no choice but to go along with it, accepting everything as it came. It was only a small effort for him, and it seemed to make her happy.

Y/N only let Lando go once she was satisfied with his outfit. He quickly rushed to Max, who offered him a glass of water with a big grin on his face, “She got you, eh?”

“Apparently, my orange hoodie was not enough,” he responded.

Max pat him on the back, “Don’t worry, I was a victim earlier,” he replied, pointing to his cheeks covered with face paint.

Not much later, the girls finally settled down. They were nearly ready to leave, the only thing they needed before heading off was a decent meal. If they were going to get wasted, they should at least have a good base. Y/N and her friends had organised a feast that could feed everyone and then some, with food left to spare. After the generous lunch was consumed, the women had some drinks to get a headstart before they packed their purses, making sure they had all the essentials covered. They divided the tiny bottles of alcohol they had bought in advance, and Lando watched in shock and disbelief as every girl shoved at least two tiny bottles down their bra. Meanwhile, Max seemed entirely unimpressed – as neutral as one could be.

Y/N and her friends had gotten tickets to Kingsland and the alcohol there was way too expensive to get drunk. If they needed to sneak in some alcohol to get properly pissed, that was a problem easily solved. The girls said goodbye and headed out the door, leaving silence in their wake.

The men didn’t leave that much later and headed over to the boat where they would meet Martijn, aka, Martin Garrix, with whom Max and Lando were both good friends. They would spend their time partying on the boat, getting just as drunk as Y/N and her friends before joining Martijn for his performance at Kingsland, where they’d meet up with the girls.

It was hours, and a shit ton of drinks, later when Max called Y/N to let her know they arrived at the festival grounds. In the meantime, a lot had happened: Y/N’s group of friends had gained at least three more people, Lando had cut his nose open on a glass bottle, and Max, somehow, managed to fall off the boat.

Y/N was dancing with her group of friends, going crazy for the songs the DJ was playing when she suddenly felt hands on her shoulders. She turned around immediately, surprised at the presence of a new person and ready to defend herself against whoever decided to touch her. That is, until she noticed the person behind her was Lando. As soon as she recognised the man, she, very drunkenly, jumped onto him. Y/N claimed she hadn’t seen him in so long as she put her entire body weight on the man who, unsuspecting of the move and unstable from the amount of alcohol he had consumed, nearly fell over. Y/N giggled innocently at the interaction, holding Lando’s arms tightly to prevent their fall. She looked up at his face while she did so, noticing the bandage on his nose.

“What did you do?” She slurred, frowning concernedly while running a hand along his face. That wasn’t a good choice; she lost her balance as soon as her hand left Lando’s arm. Lando, his own state not much better, grabbed her waist, trying to stop her wobbling.

“Got hit in the face with a broken beer bottle,” he replied with a grin and Y/N giggled at the image forming in her mind. 

“That’s so stupid. Did it hurt?” she asked.

Lando laughed loudly, “No, I’m too drunk to feel anything.”

Even though the comment wasn't that funny, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along, nearly toppling over.

The group, now including Max and Lando, stood in the crowd, dancing to the music playing as it became busier in anticipation of Martin Garrix’s performance. The field they were standing in became more crowded by the second, pressing them closer to each other. There was barely any space left to move, packed like sardines in a can. When there were people who tried to pass, Y/N’s back was pressed tightly against Lando. So tightly that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body and his breath hitting her neck; so tightly that it made Max send Lando a warning glare. But it didn’t matter when everyone was drunk and there were too many people between them for Max to do anything other than stare angrily.

When Martijn began his set everyone cheered and moved along to the music. In Y/N’s current position, she was nearly grinding against Lando, but he didn’t seem to mind, holding her close with one hand while the other held his drink in the air. Nevertheless, she turned around, wanting to avoid conflict between her brother and Lando, and any pictures and rumours that would most likely arise when people spotted the world-famous Formula 1 drivers. That didn’t mean she’d avoid his touch, though; throwing her arms over his shoulders while he held her waist, they kept dancing together.

Martijn’s set ended way sooner than they would’ve liked it to, and it was only a while longer before the group left Kingsland for his penthouse. After all, when you’re invited to Martin Garrix’s after-party by the man himself, you cannot refuse. 

Somehow, they managed to get to his penthouse safely, where they kept the party going until at least midnight. Most of the people Martijn invited left after the fireworks, leaving a smaller group of people occupying the rooftop. After standing, dancing and jumping all day and night, the group finally found somewhere to sit for a while – just to let their legs rest. But, as luck would have it, there weren’t enough seats, because when are there ever? Before Y/N could even suggest she’d stand, Lando, in his drunken stupor, had already pulled her down to sit on his lap.

He smiled triumphantly as she sat, “You looked tired,” is all he said to justify it.

Despite her surprise, Y/N welcomed the closeness and leaned into Lando, resting her body against his while she sipped her Aperol and joined the ongoing discussion. It was the perfect way to end her night – surrounded by her friends, joking around and enjoying her drink. She enjoyed the drunken conversation, giggling whenever Lando would whisper a funny remark in her ear about whatever stupid comment someone just uttered. His commentary was so distracting that she didn’t even notice when he put his hand on her thigh and tightened his hold on her waist, pulling her closer.

Max, however, did notice. He had been keeping an eye on Lando since their interaction at Kingsland when Y/N was basically grinding on Lando. Knowing a warning glare didn’t do much last time, Max was ready to do just about anything to make his objections clear if Lando decided to take things too far in his presence. Especially when he saw Lando’s hand moving higher up Y/N’s leg while she solely giggled in his arms. It’s an understatement to say the alcohol made Lando bolder – he felt fucking fearless as he kept his gaze locked on Y/N, not removing his eyes for even a second, not until a loud voice interrupts the conversation, at least.

“Hey, mate, let’s keep it PG, yeah?” The tone of Max’s voice made the words sound a lot less casual and jovial than they usually would and Y/N’s cheeks flared up when she noticed he was referring to her and Lando. Lando’s hands shot up, as if Y/N’s warm skin burned his hands, lifting them in a gesture of surrender.

“Sorry man, didn’t even notice it,” he replied.

Max glowered at him, showing he was not messing around before returning to his conversation.

When Max’s attention shifted away from them, Lando tentatively placed his hand back. The alcohol running through his veins made him ballsy and fearless as he continued to make comments in Y/N’s ear. This time, she noticed his moving hand, a blush rising to her cheeks in anticipation of Max’s reaction. But he wasn’t paying attention to the two of them, not until he heard his sister laughing boisterously. Startled at the sound, his eyes darted over to the pair, widening in disbelief when he spotted Lando’s wandering hand edging closer to the hem of your skirt once again. Max’s instincts immediately kicked in at the sight – the audacity of this man.

“That’s enough, Norris. Hands off,” he commanded, his tone firm.

Lando’s confidence faltered under Max’s scrutinising gaze, and he removed his hand immediately. “Sorry, man,” he said, blushing at the attention. Max, too, had been drinking all day, and Lando didn’t want to risk another injury; the cut on his nose was enough for today.

Lando’s sudden change in behaviour was obvious to Y/N; his uncertainty and reluctance to touch her were palpable. In an attempt to reassure him, she leaned her head against his shoulder, cuddling into him while she kept the conversation going. She made eye contact with her brother, whose unrelenting glare softened at her comfort. All he wanted to do was to protect Y/N, but it now felt unnecessary as she seemed entirely at ease with Lando.

At some point during the night, Y/N took the initiative and grabbed Lando’s hand, placing it on her thigh. Lando was apprehensive at the gesture, looking over at Max to see his reaction, but he was focused on his sister. He watched her play with Lando’s hand, fiddling with his fingers and giggling into the crook of his neck. Max shifted his eyes to Lando, nodding at him before returning to his conversation – a sign of approval. If his sister was okay with it, initiating and encouraging it even, then he would accept it.

They stayed in the same position until people started to leave. When Y/N’s friends mentioned heading home, Max suggested everyone should go back, not wanting the girls to walk home alone while they were wasted. It took little convincing to get everyone into the elevator and out to the street to start the short journey (although much longer when drunk) back to his apartment. 

Lando and Y/N were walking next to each other, rounding up the group while Max was busy herding Y/N’s friends through the city. They were leaning on each other as they stumbled through the streets, laughing at Max who was frantically chasing the girls to make sure they took the right turns.

When they finally got back to Max’s apartment, the chaos of the night followed them inside as Max helped everyone to their beds. He had basically adopted Y/N’s friends as his sisters by now, fussing over them throughout the night. Occupied with the girls, Max doesn’t notice Lando following his sister into her bedroom. He sprawled himself out on the bed, barely kicking off his shoes, while Y/N got herself ready to sleep. 

She stumbled over to the bed while Lando watched her, both of them giggling as she nearly tripped over the shoes scattered around the floor. She curled up next to him on the bed, her body fitting perfectly against his. As they drifted to sleep, their whispers slowly faded into silence until the only sounds that remained were the soft snores from the cuddled-up couple, and the quiet stomps of Max trying to catch Y/N's giggling friends.