#essential navigation course

[above-and-beyond-boating]

Master Essential Navigation Skills with Our RYA Online Course

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[duncneydivorce]

If i were to ever adapt Quicksilver: No Surrender the ‘indefinite motion which separates himself from reality that’s metaphysically represented by a still grey landscape’ would just be the Backrooms.

[fvsm4x]

𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 (you) !

synopsis. Prince Satoru has just come of age, and it’s tradition in his kingdom for the crown prince to be presented with potential suitors. Despite his power and prestige, he’s lived a life of strict rules and sheltered isolation, knowing little about romance and even less about pleasure. His parents arrange for a tutor to guide him on how to properly fuck and pleasure a partner

+ warnings/content. Prince! Gojo S. + tutor fem! reader - satoru is a virgin and inexperienced - virginity lose - p in v - feral gojo a bit - royal au - gojo has a big dick - oral (fem. receiving) - fingering - size difference a bit - gojo is pussydrunk - shy/soft gojo

+ word count. 9.1k (Oppsie daisy)

a/n. This is prolly one of my favs works so I HOPE U LIKE IT

banner by unknown (tell me if u know from who it is!!)

The doors to Prince Satoru’s chambers loomed before you, tall and intricately carved, a testament to the wealth and grandeur of the palace. Your fingers hovered just above the handle, and you took a steadying breath, reminding yourself of the role you were about to step into. The position was an unusual one, to say the least—both highly honored and slightly scandalous, whispered about only behind closed doors and far from the ears of the public.

When the queen had summoned you, you’d expected to be given a task of courtly refinement—perhaps tutoring Prince Satoru in diplomacy or etiquette, something befitting his status. But the court had other plans. Prince Satoru was soon to come of age, and despite his immense power and status, he had led a remarkably sheltered life. Royal duty dictated that he was to be groomed for the throne, but there was more to kingship than formalities and court rituals. To make matters more complicated, it was tradition that the crown prince be well-versed in… more intimate knowledge.

And so, here you were—his tutor for this secret, delicate subject. The court deemed it crucial that Satoru gain a proper understanding of how to navigate romantic and physical intimacy, skills thought essential to his future rule. And though this education would be handled with the utmost discretion, the weight of it wasn’t lost on you. This was about more than teaching the young prince; it was about shaping the experiences that would prepare him for life, even if it meant starting with things he’d never before dared to touch

One of the royal guards gave you a nod, signaling that the prince awaited inside, and with that final reassurance, you pushed open the heavy doors.

The room was grand, adorned with tapestries of deep blue and golds, velvet curtains framing the windows to keep prying eyes out. Soft candlelight bathed the chamber, casting warm, flickering shadows that seemed to make the room feel smaller, more intimate. And there, in the midst of it all, stood Prince Satoru.

He looked as regal as ever, his white hair falling around his shoulders in soft waves that caught the light, yet his expression was tense, the lines of his jaw just slightly taut as he took in your arrival. He stood tall, shoulders straight, but there was a nervous energy about him, a flicker of uncertainty in his piercing blue eyes. For all his power, he was, in this moment, simply a young man facing something entirely foreign.

He looked almost hesitant, his fingers curling at his sides as he took a few tentative steps forward.

“Are you… the tutor?” he asked, his voice soft but clear.

You bowed, folding your hands in front of you. “Yes, Your Highness. I’m honored to serve you.”

He returned your bow with a slight nod, his gaze hesitant but unwavering. “Thank you for coming,” he replied, his voice quiet and just a little rough around the edges. After a pause, he continued, “And please— call me satoru.”

You blinked at him before replying,“of course, Satoru.“

He continued,“I understand you’re here to… teach me certain things

There was a vulnerability to his words, as if he were admitting some private, embarrassing truth, and you felt a flicker of sympathy. “Yes,” you said softly, taking a step closer. “I’m here to help you learn at your own pace. We don’t have to rush anything. It’s perfectly normal to have questions, and we can take things one step at a time.”

He let out a breath, and a faint, almost sheepish smile flickered across his lips. “That’s… good to know,” he murmured. “To be honest, I’m not sure where to begin. I’ve read about some of it—romance, intimacy—but it always seemed… different in stories. Simpler. Or maybe more dramatic.” He paused, then quickly added, “But I have no practical experience. I don’t even know what’s expected of me.”

Was he really that inexperienced?

It was hard for you to believe. Prince Satoru was strikingly attractive, with an air of confidence that most people would expect from someone well-versed in such matters. Yet here he was, seeming genuinely lost. You’d have guessed he at least knew the basics—how to start, how to read a moment. But the way he looked at you, the way his questions hovered in the air with such uncertainty, made it clear that he truly knew next to nothing.

You nodded, taking in his words. “That’s perfectly alright,“

Satoru’s gaze flicked away, almost as if embarrassed by his own curiosity. “It’s strange. I’m supposed to lead a kingdom, yet I feel so… out of place when it comes to this.” His eyes returned to yours, vulnerable but resolute. “It feels almost… childish, not knowing these things.”

You smiled gently. “It’s not childish at all, satoru. You’ve been raised in a very particular way, with rules and responsibilities that few can understand. Besides, being inexperienced doesn’t make you any less capable.”

He studied you closely, his intense blue eyes absorbing your words, as if testing their weight before trusting them. There was a softening in his expression, a subtle shift from wary curiosity to a quiet resolve. “I think I understand,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But… where do I start? What do I need to know?”

Slowly, you stepped closer, letting him feel your presence before you closed the distance entirely. Your hand hovered in the air, close enough for him to notice, but not so close as to assume his permission. “May I?” you asked, your tone gentle but firm, a reassurance that he was in control of every moment.

He seemed caught off guard, his gaze briefly dropping to your hand before meeting your eyes again. There was a flicker of something—curiosity, perhaps a bit of nervous anticipation—but he nodded, his voice soft yet steady. “Of course.”

You reached forward, your fingers just grazing his hand, warm and slightly tense under your touch. Slowly, you guided his hand toward your waist, resting it there carefully. His fingers settled against you, his grip hesitant but steady. His hand was large, enveloping the curve of your waist, and the warmth of his skin seeped through the fabric, grounding both of you in this small, shared moment.

Satoru’s hand flexed, his fingers instinctively pressing into the soft give of your waist. His touch was cautious, like he was still testing the sensation, and you could feel him catch his breath. His eyes flickered down, watching his own hand as if seeing it in this position was almost surreal. Then his gaze lifted to yours, his expression a mix of awe and a little self-consciousness, like he was realizing just how new all of this felt to him.

For a moment, time seemed to still, the air thick with something unspoken. His fingers remained gently on your waist, his grip firm but careful. His eyes held yours, searching for something—maybe understanding, maybe comfort.

You felt the heat of his gaze as his eyes lingered on you, his expression searching, as if trying to find reassurance or perhaps permission. His attention felt heavy, intense, and you could feel your cheeks warming, a faint blush creeping over you. You forced yourself to brush it aside, focusing on him, on the quiet yet clear connection between you.

Drawing a breath, you leaned in, rising onto your toes until your face was just inches from his. Your eyes dropped to his lips, your gaze lingering there for just a second too long, and that seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. His eyes fluttered shut, and his fingers dug slightly into your waist, pulling you in closer with an unexpected urgency. Your breaths mingled in the narrow space between you before his lips met yours in a rush of movement.

The kiss was messy, uncoordinated, almost clumsy in its eagerness. His lips pressed hard against yours, his movements lacking the practiced finesse of experience but carrying a raw intensity that made up for it. He kissed you with an almost desperate enthusiasm, his lips parting messily against yours, the faint taste of his breath mingling with your own. There was a wetness to the kiss, his inexperience clear in the way he seemed to lose himself, following only instinct rather than skill. He kissed you with unabashed need, a little too much spit and an endearing awkwardness in the way his mouth moved against yours.

You could feel his inexperience, the way he struggled to find a rhythm, his lips and tongue a bit too eager, too messy. But there was a certain sweetness to it, a sincerity that made the kiss feel even more intimate. It was unrefined, almost childlike in its enthusiasm, yet it was deeply honest—a kiss from someone exploring a world he’d never known, trying to understand it one uncertain step at a time.

Slowly, you brought your hand up to his face, brushing your fingers along his jawline, gently guiding him to slow down. You felt his breathing hitch at the soft touch, and his lips stilled for a moment, eyes fluttering open to meet yours. His gaze held a mixture of surprise and something more vulnerable—a spark of uncertainty, as though he was asking if he was doing things right.

“You’re doing just fine,” you whispered, your words a gentle reassurance. You could see the tension ease from his expression, the smallest hint of relief softening his gaze. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and gave you a shy smile that felt so out of place on someone as commanding as him, yet so fitting in this moment.

With your guidance, he leaned in again, his movements now a bit more measured, a touch gentler. His lips met yours with newfound purpose, still a little messy, but now slower, as though savoring each second. This time, he lingered, allowing the kiss to unfold naturally, his lips brushing against yours with a sweet, unhurried warmth.

Your hands slid to rest on his shoulders, fingers tracing the lines of his frame, feeling the subtle tremor under his skin as he let himself fall into the moment. The kiss grew deeper, a quiet exploration, as though he were learning you, learning this intimacy he’d never experienced before. And in that moment, it felt like there was only the two of you—caught in this delicate exchange, each touch building a fragile new understanding.

After a long, breathless pause, he drew back, his expression softened yet still intense, eyes clouded with newfound desire. His lips, now slightly swollen from the kiss, parted as he looked at you, as if searching for something—permission, maybe, or reassurance. His hand remained at your waist, fingers tightening gently, grounding himself in the unfamiliar intimacy that had formed between you.

Without another word, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was harder, more confident than before, as though the hesitation had melted away. His hands slid down your waist, fingers tracing the shape of your body until they reached the back of your thighs. In one smooth movement, he lifted you, his strength evident as he held you firmly. A gasp escaped your lips, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms looping around his neck for support as he carried you with ease.

Your back met the cool, solid surface of the wall, and you felt a rush of heat at the sudden closeness, the way his body pressed against yours, anchoring you there. His hands, still beneath your thighs, slid upward slightly, fingers grazing the curve of your ass before giving it a small, tentative squeeze. The unexpected boldness of the touch sent a spark through you, and your breath hitched, a faint blush coloring your cheeks.

His lips found yours again, and he kissed you with a fervor that felt worlds away from the shyness he’d shown moments before. His mouth moved against yours with a raw intensity, devouring each kiss, leaving no space between you. You felt the heat radiating from him, the rhythm of his breaths growing heavier as he pressed himself closer, as though wanting to close any lingering distance between you.

The contrast was dizzying—just moments ago, he’d been so cautious, uncertain in every touch, every glance. And now here he was, holding you in his arms, his kisses almost desperate as if he’d found something he didn’t want to let go of. You clung to him, fingers tangling in his hair as you let yourself sink into the warmth of his embrace, the steady, grounding pressure of his hands keeping you anchored against him.

He kissed you with a fervor that left you breathless, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that seemed to grow with each passing second. His fingers tightened on your ass, his grip steady and possessive, pressing you more firmly against the wall as though he wanted to keep you there, close, unmovable. You could feel his heartbeat, fast and heavy, mirroring your own.

His mouth left yours only for a moment, his lips brushing along your jaw, trailing down to the curve of your neck. Each kiss was a mix of soft and hurried, as if he were savoring the taste of your skin but couldn’t quite hold back his growing desire. His breath was hot against your neck, and you felt a shiver run through you as his lips lingered there, taking his time to explore, to feel you.

The way he held you felt powerful yet tentative, as if he was discovering just what he could do, and it sent a thrill through you. You felt the tension in his hold, the slight tremble in his fingertips betraying a mix of nervous excitement and unrestrained want.

You whispered his name softly, and he stilled for a moment, lifting his head to look at you. His eyes, usually so confident and sharp, held a softness, a vulnerability that made your heart race. He seemed to study you, his gaze searching your face, as if he needed to see that you were still with him, still wanting this as much as he did.

“S’toru…” you murmured agaib, your voice barely a whisper, filled with all the unspoken reassurance and encouragement you could offer. He swallowed, his cheeks faintly flushed, and gave a small, hesitant smile, looking a little relieved, a little emboldened

With newfound determination, he pulled you closer, his lips capturing yours once more, this time slower, savoring the moment.

As Satoru’s kisses grew deeper and more assured, the intensity between you became undeniable, and you could feel his breathing growing heavier. His hands roamed along your thighs, fingers grazing over the fabric of your clothes, and each touch seemed to carry a little more heat, a little more urgency.

Then, suddenly, you felt it—a subtle but unmistakable pressure against your stomach. His hips had shifted closer in his fervor, and now you could feel him pressing against you, hard and undeniable. The realization made a shiver run through you, and you felt your own face flush, heart pounding at the sudden intimacy of it.

Satoru froze for a moment, as if only now aware of the way his body was reacting. His cheeks turned a deep shade of red, and he swallowed, his breath catching as he struggled to pull himself back, an awkward smile tugging at his lips.

“I… didn’t mean…” he stammered, clearly embarrassed, his gaze dropping as though he didn’t quite know how to handle his own reactions.

But before he could pull away, you brought a hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb gently along his skin, letting him know it was okay. “It’s alright,” you whispered, voice soft and reassuring. “Do what you please.“

He looked at you, relief mingling with something deeper, a flicker of excitement shining in his eyes. He leaned in, his lips meeting yours again, this time with a slower, more deliberate passion. As he deepened the kiss, his body pressed closer, and he stopped resisting the way his hips aligned with yours, letting himself feel the closeness without overthinking it.

Your hands slid over his shoulders, steadying yourself against him, feeling the strength in his frame as he held you, his body tense with barely restrained desire. The pressure against your stomach grew, a steady reminder of the effect you were having on him, and you could feel his hesitance melting away bit by bit. His kisses grew bolder, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, as though he didn’t want any distance left between you.

,S‘toru” you whispered against his lips, voice breathy and soft, and he drew in a shaky breath, his eyes heavy-lidded, as though he was barely keeping himself grounded. He was fighting to stay in control, to process the new sensations flooding through him, but he could hardly hold back.

“Feels s‘ good…” he murmured, his voice a low, shaky whisper. Slowly, his hips moved, pressing into you, creating a delicious friction as his hardness rubbed against you, even through the layers of clothing. The movement was tentative but grew more confident with each slow thrust, his breath hitching as he sank deeper into the feeling. His lips found the side of your neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses there, letting his lips map the curve of your skin.

A quiet whimper escaped you, unintentional yet undeniable, and he froze, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes, still filled with that raw need, softened slightly, as if wanting to make sure he hadn’t gone too far. But when he heard the faint, breathy sound again as his lips brushed over the same spot, he seemed to realize just how much his touch affected you. A flicker of excitement flashed in his gaze, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to your neck again, this time more deliberately, letting his tongue graze the sensitive skin.

You whimpered again, the sound slipping from your lips before you could stop it, and you brought a hand to your mouth, instinctively trying to muffle the sound. But he reached up, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, pulling your hand away with a gentle yet firm hold. His gaze held an intensity that made your heart skip.

“Wanna hear ‘em… your moans,” he muttered, his voice low, the words dripping with newfound confidence. He leaned in, his lips trailing back to your neck, and this time, his tongue traced slow, heated lines against your skin, savoring the way you shivered beneath his touch.

Each kiss, each brush of his lips, became bolder, more purposeful, as though he was learning exactly how to make you feel every single touch. His hips continued to press against you in slow, unhurried movements, creating a rhythm that sent sparks through your entire body.

His fingers, which had gripped your Thighs with a firm intensity, began to trail upward, brushing against the fabric of your shirt. With his breath warm against your skin, he paused, looking up at you for a moment, his gaze filled with a mix of excitement and curiosity.

His hand moved to the top button of your shirt, fingers slightly trembling as he hesitated. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, searching for any hint of uncertainty. When you gave him a soft nod, a silent reassurance, his face softened, and with that, he began to slowly undo the buttons, one by one, his gaze never leaving yours as though anchoring himself in the trust you shared.

His breath caught as he reached the last button, letting your shirt slip from your shoulders to pool at your feet.

His gaze dropped, and his eyes widened, filled with awe as he took in the sight of you. His hands, initially tentative, began to trace gentle patterns along your shoulders and collarbone, his touch warm and reverent. He seemed captivated, almost in disbelief, as his fingertips trailed downward, lingering at the curve of your breasts.

Satoru swallowed hard, his cheeks flushed as he looked up at you, his gaze both shy and filled with wonder. “You’re… so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, as if he feared speaking too loudly might shatter the moment. With a hesitant hand, he reached out, his palm gently covering the soft curve of your breast, his touch both tender and careful, as though you were something precious.

Leaning in, his lips brushed softly against your skin just above your heart, leaving a trail of warm, reverent kisses as he explored with growing confidence. His hand, which had rested at the curve of your breast, wandered over the full softness, squeezing with a tentative pressure that sent warmth flooding through you. His thumb and forefinger found your nipple, giving a small, instinctive pinch.

The sharp pleasure made you gasp, a moan slipping from your lips, but you couldn’t help flinching at the unexpected intensity. “Not ser‘ hard… they’re sensitive,” you murmured, gently pulling his hand back. He froze, meeting your gaze with an apologetic expression, his face flushed even deeper.

“ sorry..” he whispered, genuine remorse in his voice, but the look in his eyes was also filled with curiosity and need. Without a second thought, he lowered his head, bringing himself level with your chest, and his lips brushed over your sensitive skin in a soft, almost reverent kiss.

Satoru’s lips wrapped around your nipple, his warm mouth enveloping the sensitive peak. He kissed it softly, savoring the taste of your skin, his tongue flicking out to tease you gently. The sensation sent electric currents racing through you, and you gasped, arching into him, encouraging him to continue.

As he continued to explore, he paused for a moment, pulling back slightly to look up at you with wide, earnest eyes. “I’m really sorry for being too rough,” he murmured, his voice filled with genuine remorse.

Then, as if his apology extended beyond you and into your body, he turned his attention back to your nipple, planting a soft kiss on it. “You just look s‘ perfect,” he added, the words barely escaping his lips.

He resumed his gentle kisses, trailing his mouth over the delicate skin around your breast, still mindful of your sensitivity. Each kiss was filled with a newfound tenderness, as if he was not only trying to please you but also to make amends. “Please forgive me,” he whispered against your skin, his breath warm, brushing over you like a gentle caress.

With each delicate kiss, he continued to express his reverence, kissing your nipple again softly as though it were a cherished treasure. “I promise to be better,” he vowed, his gaze intent, as if making a sacred promise to both you and your body. He lavished attention on your breast, his lips trailing kisses that were sweet and reverent, the gentle pressure of his mouth a stark contrast to the earlier clumsiness.

You couldn’t help but giggle softly at his earnestness, feeling a warmth spread through you, not just from his touch but from his sincerity. “You’re doing just fine, you‘re just learning afterall.” you reassured him, your voice breathy and filled with affection.

His eyes lit up at your encouragement, and he dove back in, his lips returning to your nipple, kissing it with a newfound tenderness, allowing the moment to envelop you both.

from your breast to your collarbone and back again, savoring each reaction he drew from you. The warmth of his mouth sent shivers down your spine, igniting a desire that only grew stronger.

But suddenly, he pulled back, his eyes shimmering with a mixture of excitement and determination. He gently wrapped his arms around you once ahain, lifting you with surprising strength.

He carried you effortlessly across the room, your heart racing as you held onto him, feeling the strength in his arms. The thrill of being so close to him, both physically and emotionally, sent a rush of warmth through you. As he approached the bed, he leaned down, carefully laying you onto the soft mattress, his gaze never leaving yours.

Once he set you down, he paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you stretched out before him. His heart raced in response to the intimacy of the moment, his breath hitching as he drank you in. “You’re really beautiful,” he whispered again, as if he couldn’t help but marvel at you.

Satoru leaned over you, propping himself up on his forearms, his gaze filled with a mix of admiration and longing. His fingers brushed through your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear, and he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours.

He pressed his lips against yours again, kissing you deeply as if trying to convey all the emotions swirling within him. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve, every dip, as if memorizing every detail of you. You felt his weight resting against you, warm and safe, and it filled you with a sense of comfort and exhilaration.

As the kiss deepened, his hands wandered, fingers tracing along your sides and down your arms, drawing you into the warmth of the moment. He seemed to lose himself in you, his kisses growing more passionate, yet still tender, as if he were balancing the thrill of desire with a profound respect for the connection you were building together.

Satoru pulled back slightly, his breathing uneven, and looked down at you with an expression that held a perfect blend of desire and vulnerability. His eyes softened, and a flicker of concern appeared as he took in your face. “Are… are you okay?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with an almost shy uncertainty. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.

Your heart swelled at the thoughtfulness in his tone, and you nodded, feeling a warm sense of safety in his presence. “I’m fine,” you murmured softly, reaching up to brush a reassuring hand along his arm. “I should be asking you that.”

He nodded, his gaze briefly meeting yours before looking away, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “I’m… I’m okay,” he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper, almost as if he were still processing his own feelings. After a beat, he hesitated, then glanced back at you with a hint of nervous curiosity. “What should I do now?”

You sat up slightly, leaning forward so you could hold his gaze, though he quickly looked down, the blush deepening on his face. “Pull your clothes off,” you instructed softly, giving him a small, encouraging smile. “But leave your underwear on.”

Satoru’s eyes widened at your words, the blush spreading rapidly across his cheeks, almost as if he hadn’t quite expected the suggestion. “Yeah… okay,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of nerves and excitement as he reached for the hem of his shirt, hesitating only briefly before he began to lift it.

His hands trembled ever so slightly as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the toned lines of his chest and shoulders. His skin was warm, slightly flushed, and he kept his gaze averted, as if trying to gather the courage to keep going. He let the shirt fall to the floor, then took a deep breath before moving to undo his pants, casting a quick glance in your direction as if seeking reassurance.

When he saw your soft, encouraging expression, he continued, pushing his pants down and stepping out of them, leaving only his underwear as you’d requested. His movements were tentative, almost shy, but there was a certain determination in his actions that spoke of his trust in you.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you watched Satoru, your heart pounding in sync with his as he settled in beside you. His eyes lingered on you, filled with curiosity and an unmistakable nervousness, though he gave you a shy smile when you met his gaze.

With a reassuring nod, you began to reach down, fingers slipping to the waistband of your pants. His eyes followed your movements, captivated, as you slowly slid the fabric down your hips, exposing the soft skin of your legs. You kicked the pants aside, leaving you in only your underwear, mirroring him. His breath hitched as his gaze roamed over you, the admiration in his eyes unmistakable.

Now both in only your most vulnerable layers, you shifted back on the bed, motioning for him to come closer. Satoru followed, his movements tentative but filled with a certain eagerness, as though he was soaking in every detail of the moment.

He settled between your legs, his body hovering above yours as he propped himself up on his hands. His eyes were wide, sincere, holding a quiet wonder that made your heart flutter. He seemed to lose himself in the moment, drinking in the sight of you with a softness that was almost reverent.

You reached up, placing a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat racing beneath your fingertips. His breaths were shallow, matching yours in rhythm, and a slight shiver ran through him at your touch. “Just take it slow,” you whispered, your voice soft, reassuring, as you leaned in close enough that your breaths mingled, faces only inches apart. “We don’t have to rush.”

He nodded, swallowing as his gaze remained locked with yours. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with gratitude and awe. Tentatively, he brought his hand to your waist, his fingers brushing over your skin with a gentleness that spoke of both caution and growing confidence. His touch was almost feather-light, his fingertips tracing small circles as though memorizing each curve and dip. You felt his hand tighten slightly, pulling you closer, grounding himself in the warmth of your body against his.

You leaned up, closing the space between you to press a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek, letting your lips linger there as you savored the warmth of his skin. Satoru’s eyes fluttered closed, and he exhaled a shaky breath, leaning into your touch, almost as if he were melting under your care.

When you pulled back just slightly, he turned his head to face you, his expression filled with an intense, tender gaze. His eyes flickered down to your lips, and for a brief moment, he hesitated, his lips parted as if caught between nervousness and longing. Finally, he leaned in, brushing his lips over yours in a kiss that was both tender and exploratory, filled with a sweetness that made your heart race. He kissed you slowly, savoring every second, as though he wanted to remember this moment forever.

His hands began to wander from your waist to your hips, his fingers tracing along the curve where your underwear sat against your skin. He paused, his fingertips grazing along the line of fabric, hesitating, as if seeking permission. You could feel his hand trembling slightly, both from his excitement and his nerves, his fingers brushing over the skin just above the waistband before moving back down.

Satoru’s gaze was locked on yours, his eyes a mixture of wonder and nervousness as his hands continued their tentative exploration along the edge of your underwear. He seemed to be gathering courage, his fingers tracing gentle, almost reverent patterns across your skin. Your own hand covered his, a soft reminder, and you murmured, “You can take them off, y’know…”

He paused, visibly swallowing, his blush deepening. “Yes… yes, I know,” he replied, voice barely a whisper as he gathered the courage to slide the fabric down your hips. He moved slowly, carefully, as if savoring every second. When your underwear finally slipped from your legs, he let it fall from the bed, his gaze turning back to you with a new, unguarded vulnerability.

When he looked down, his gaze dipped between your legs as you spread them slightly, giving him space to take in the sight of you. He was visibly struck by the intimacy of the moment, a hint of awe flickering in his eyes, and you could feel the weight of his gaze, making you equally self-conscious and drawn to his quiet, genuine curiosity.

This wasn’t something you’d ever imagined doing, especially not as a tutor. The queen’s request had surprised you, and even as you’d agreed to guide him, you’d never anticipated how intense and meaningful this moment would feel. But with Satoru, there was a warmth and care that put you at ease—a softness in him that made you want to help him learn, to give him this experience.

Satoru’s breath was uneven as he drew his hands up your thighs, the warmth of his touch making your skin tingle. His thumbs moved slowly, pulling your legs apart just a little more, his touch almost reverent as he brushed his thumb against the delicate skin of your inner thigh. The sensation made you shiver, a small gasp escaping you.

His gaze never left yours as he brought his hands to your center, his fingers trembling slightly as he parted your folds with his thumbs, exposing your most sensitive area to the cool air. You let out a quiet gasp at the sensation, your breath catching as he focused on the glistening sight before him, his eyes filled with awe. He seemed mesmerized, watching the way your body reacted, the soft, pulsing invitation of your skin against his touch.

For a moment, he simply watched,

Satoru’s fingers trembled slightly as he held you open, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and uncertainty. His gaze flickered to yours, a question forming on his lips. “I… I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do next,” he admitted softly, his cheeks flushed, looking for guidance as he tried to understand how to please you.

You reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his, your touch steadying him. “It’s okay,” you murmured, giving him a soft smile. “I can show you.”

He swallowed, nodding as he leaned in closer, visibly eager to learn. “Where should I start?” he asked, his voice low and sincere.

You held his gaze, feeling a sense of warmth at his openness. “See here?” you murmured, gently guiding his thumb to a small, sensitive spot at the apex of your folds. “This is the clit—it’s the most sensitive part, and it responds a lot to touch. You’ll want to start by focusing here.”

Satoru’s eyes lit with newfound understanding, his gaze turning to admiration as he looked down, processing your words carefully. His thumb brushed experimentally over the wet spot, his movements slow and cautious. You let out a soft, encouraging sigh, and he glanced up, his expression almost childlike in its intensity, clearly focused on learning how to make you feel good.

“So, you have to… prepare someone, right?” he asked, as if confirming his understanding. “Before anything else?”

You nodded, your voice soft. “Yes. You prepare a woman for… more,” you said, feeling a blush heat your cheeks. “Touching, kissing, and things like this—all of that helps get her ready, so it’s more comfortable. You have options, too. You could use your fingers, your mouth, or both… whatever feels natural for you.”

He seemed to absorb every word, nodding slowly, his brows furrowing with concentration. “I think I understand,” he murmured, his gaze flicking between your eyes and the sensitive spot he’d just discovered.

Satoru leaned in, his thumb brushing over your clit again, this time with more confidence, his movements gentle yet focused. You let out a soft sound, and he paused, eyes widening in wonder. He glanced up at you, a small, satisfied smile forming on his lips as he realized he’d done something right.

He leaned in, closer than before, pressing a slow, reverent kiss to your inner thigh, letting his lips linger, and you could feel the warmth of his breath as he explored with a gentle touch. You could tell he was savoring every new sensation, every slight shift and soft sigh. With each kiss, he grew bolder, moving closer to your core, his hands still steady on your thighs as he continued his careful approach.

Then, his lips brushed over your folds, his breath hitching as he pressed a lingering, almost worshipful kiss there. “So soft,” he murmured, sounding as if he were speaking more to himself than to you, awe evident in his voice. His mouth moved lower, placing another slow kiss before he began to taste you, his tongue moving hesitantly at first, as if familiarizing himself with each inch.

The first gentle stroke of his tongue made you gasp softly, and Satoru’s eyes flicked up, eager to see your reaction. Seeing the pleasure in your expression, he smiled, a slight, bashful grin, and leaned in further, letting his tongue explore with more confidence. The way he worked his mouth over you, savoring every taste, every sound you made, spoke to the intense curiosity and focus he was channeling into each motion.

“Fuck—” he whispered, his voice thick and slightly shaky, pulling back for a moment to catch his breath. His face was flushed, his pupils dilated as he looked at you with something close to worship. “Pussy’s s‘ sweet— tastes ser’ good,” he murmured, almost to himself, before diving back in with a new kind of hunger.

His tongue found your clit this time, pressing gently before giving it a soft, experimental bite that sent a shock of pleasure through you, making you arch into him. He continued, lapping at you with slow, broad strokes, as if he couldn’t get enough. His hands slid up, gripping your hips and pulling you even closer as he kissed and licked every inch, fully lost in the experience.

He seemed completely intoxicated by your taste, by the way your body responded to him. Each movement of his mouth became more confident, more eager, as he continued his relentless exploration, his tongue swirling around your clit before lapping at your entrance again, catching every bit of wetness as if it were precious. Satoru was utterly lost in you, pressing closer and moaning softly into your skin, entirely absorbed in the pleasure he was bringing you.

His hand slipped back to your thigh, gently squeezing as his mouth worked in perfect rhythm

Satoru’s grip on your thighs tightened as he became even more engrossed, his mouth moving over you with a hungry, eager rhythm. His eyes flickered up every so often, watching your reactions with an almost boyish awe as he learned exactly what made you gasp and arch into him. Each sound you made seemed to spur him on, fueling his growing confidence as his tongue moved with more purpose, more intent.

He let his tongue glide up from your entrance to your clit in slow, drawn-out strokes, savoring every taste, as though he couldn’t get enough. “Ser‘ good,” he murmured between breaths, his voice thick and heavy, almost reverent. “Can’t believe— fuck- how perfect ya taste.” His words were laced with genuine awe, and each syllable seemed to sink into you, heightening the warmth building deep in your core.

His lips wrapped around your clit then, and he sucked gently, sending waves of pleasure radiating through you. You gasped, fingers tangling in his soft hair, tugging him closer as your hips moved instinctively toward him, urging him deeper. Satoru moaned softly at the feeling of your hands in his hair, the vibrations of his voice against you only adding to the sensation.

“Just like that,” you whispered, your voice shaky as he continued, his enthusiasm and care blending into a perfect, overwhelming rhythm. He responded by doubling down, his lips pressing more firmly, his tongue flicking and circling, as if every movement were a way to learn how to make you feel even better.

As he continued, Satoru looked up at you again, his gaze dark with desire yet softened with admiration. “You taste like… everything I’ve ever wanted,” he mumbled against you, his voice muffled, but full of devotion. He leaned in once more, mouth covering you completely, tongue moving in long, slow strokes, savoring every drop and every reaction.

He became almost methodical, his mouth working in steady, purposeful motions, alternating between licking and gentle sucking, pulling quiet moans from your lips with every movement. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding you steady as he continued his eager exploration, his mouth mapping every inch of you, each touch bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Finally, as his pace quickened and his movements became less restrained, you felt the growing heat build to a near breaking point. Your hips bucked against him, and he only gripped you tighter, pressing his mouth more firmly against you, tongue swirling and lips pressing as he pushed you right to the brink, lost in the need to give you everything he could.

Satoru’s eyes never left yours as he continued, his focus unwavering. Every gasp, every arch of your back seemed to spur him on, and as he watched you getting closer, a new determination filled his gaze. His hands slid up your inner thighs, his fingers brushing over your skin with a light touch before hesitating at your entrance. He glanced up, silently asking for permission, and at your encouraging nod, he took a deep breath, pressing a finger against your slick entrance.

Slowly, carefully, he pushed inside, his movements tentative as he watched your expression, making sure you were comfortable. His finger slid deeper, and he marveled at how warm and soft you felt, his gaze full of awe as he worked his finger gently, moving in time with the soft caresses of his mouth.

“Is… this okay?” he whispered, voice low and unsure, yet filled with genuine care. The gentle curve of his finger inside you was cautious, and when you let out a quiet moan in response, he seemed relieved, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Yes, s‘toru,” you murmured, voice thick with desire, encouraging him to continue.

Emboldened, he began moving his finger slowly, curling it inside you as he searched for the spots that made you shiver. His mouth returned to your clit, tongue flicking in gentle, deliberate strokes, the combination of his movements creating a steady, delicious rhythm. Each motion was measured, his focus absolute as he seemed to get lost in the feel of you around him, the way your body responded to every touch.

As he gained confidence, he added another finger, stretching you just slightly, his gaze still attentive, looking for any hint of discomfort. But when he saw only pleasure in your expression, his movements grew a little bolder. His fingers curved and pressed deeper, brushing that sensitive spot within you, sending a wave of pleasure through your body that had you clinging to his shoulders.

“God, pussy‘s s‘… perfect,” he breathed against you, his tone filled with reverence, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real. His fingers pumped steadily, his mouth following their rhythm, drawing out soft moans that seemed to intoxicate him further.

Each gentle thrust of his fingers, each flick of his tongue was filled with growing intensity, a desire that seemed to drive him to bring you closer and closer to release. His face, now completely flushed, showed a newfound hunger as he became entirely engrossed in every moan

Your body tensed as Satoru’s fingers curled inside you, pressing perfectly against that sensitive spot, his mouth still worshipping your clit with a relentless rhythm. The pleasure built rapidly, each movement of his fingers and every flick of his tongue intensifying the sensation until it became overwhelming.

Your breath hitched, and you felt yourself teetering right on the edge. “Satoru… I’m close…” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. He looked up at you, his eyes darkening with both determination and awe, as if he couldn’t believe he was the one bringing you to this point. Encouraged, he kept going, maintaining that steady pace, his fingers pumping and curling with just the right pressure, his mouth warm and relentless against your clit.

Your body arched, and the pleasure surged through you in a powerful wave. A gasp escaped your lips, turning into a cry of pure ecstasy as you reached your climax, your body trembling under his touch. Satoru didn’t stop, his fingers and mouth working you through every second, letting you ride out the pleasure fully, his gaze fixed on you, captivated by every reaction.

He slowed only as he felt your body begin to relax, his fingers gradually easing their rhythm until they finally stilled. His lips pressed one last, tender kiss against your clit before he withdrew his hand. You watched, breathless, as he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean, savoring every taste as if he couldn’t get enough.

“Pussy’s so sweet,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, a mix of awe and raw need thickening his tone. His pupils were blown wide, his face covered in the remnants of your release, and he made no effort to hide his pleasure, licking his lips, his tongue tracing over the faint glisten left on his chin. “Want more…” he breathed, voice low and desperate, as if even this closeness wasn’t enough to satisfy the pull he felt toward you.

With a shuddering breath, he shifted, his hands moving to his briefs, and without hesitation, he slid them off, tossing them somewhere off the bed. He wrapped a hand around himself, giving a few slow, steady strokes, his own arousal now fully bared before you.

You couldn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped your lips as you took him in. He was big—thicker and longer than you’d expected, his arousal flushed with a deep, heated pink at the tip, beads of precum already forming and trailing down along the pale, veined length. The sight alone made you clench in anticipation, a mix of nerves and longing swirling within you.

Satoru looked down at you, his cheeks and chest flushed, the intensity in his eyes making him look almost dazed, drunk on the need coursing through him. “Can’t… can’t wait any longer—” he murmured, a slight tremor in his voice. He leaned closer, his tip brushing against your clit in a teasing tap, smearing his precum around your entrance.

“Please,” he whispered, almost as if pleading. “Please… let me… I need to feel you. Need to be inside…”

You felt his desperation in every word, his restraint fraying with every second that passed. His gaze held yours, dark and pleading, and you gave him a soft nod, granting him the permission he so earnestly sought.

“Please…” he whispered again, positioning himself carefully, his gaze never leaving yours, even as he slowly began to press forward, inch by aching inch.

A shiver ran through Satoru as he began to sink into you, every inch he pressed forward met with a quiet gasp or soft sigh that only seemed to make him more desperate. He moved slowly, his gaze fixed on your face as if wanting to memorize every reaction. The stretch was intense, his thickness filling you in a way that had you curling your fingers into the sheets, and he took his time, his movements careful and deliberate as he entered you.

“God—” he whispered, a tremor in his voice as he tried to keep his control, his brows knitting together in concentration. His hands found your hips, gripping firmly but gently, anchoring himself as he slid further. He exhaled shakily, and his breathing turned ragged, his lips parting as he lost himself in the feeling. “Feels so good…*hic* better than I imagined—” he murmured, almost to himself, as if he couldn’t believe he was actually inside you.

As soon as Satoru pressed fully inside you, he froze, his whole body tensing as if he’d been struck by lightning. The heat, the way your walls clung to him, warm and tight, had his eyes fluttering shut, his head falling back in pure, unfiltered bliss. A deep groan escaped his lips, raw and needy, and he gripped your hips so tightly you could feel the tremor in his fingers.

“Fuck—” he choked out, his voice thick, barely coherent, as he tried to process the overwhelming sensation. His head dropped forward, gaze dazed, his pupils blown wide as he looked at you, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was feeling. “So… s’ fucking tight,” he muttered, almost in disbelief, his words catching as his hips gave an involuntary thrust. “God—you’re… clenching around me so perfectly—”

You felt his fingers digging into your hips as he rocked into you again, the motion instinctive, almost primal. His restraint shattered in an instant, and he began moving with a newfound hunger, his hips snapping against yours with an intensity that had his head spinning. Each thrust made his eyes flutter, his lips parting as he gasped for breath, his mind barely able to focus on anything but the sensation of you wrapped around him

He buried himself deeper, his pace turning relentless, desperate. His lips found your neck, teeth grazing over your skin as he panted, “Feel so fucking good, can’t—can’t stop…fuck!” He sounded wrecked, completely undone, his tone almost pleading as he kept moving, his rhythm wild and unrestrained.

Satoru’s eyes rolled back as he lost himself in the feeling, the pleasure flooding through him too intense to control. “Pussy’s so *hic* warm,” he slurred, his words muffled as his lips brushed over your skin, his hips pressing into you harder, needier, every sound you made only pushing him further. Each thrust felt deeper than the last, his breaths ragged, desperate as he surrendered completely, letting the sensation consume him.

Satoru’s movements became a frenzy, his hips snapping against yours with a desperation that was almost uncontrollable, his breathing erratic and voice reduced to hoarse groans. Every inch of you enveloped him in a warmth so tight that his composure shattered with each thrust, his hands gripping you as if afraid to let go.

“Fuck—can’t… can’t get enough,” he mumbled, his voice rough, eyes half-lidded as he stared down at you with a dazed, almost feral hunger. His mouth found yours, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss, messy and demanding, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he kissed you deeply. He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath coming in heavy pants as he looked at you, captivated, overwhelmed.

Your moans and gasps only fueled him, every sound you made seeming to push him further over the edge. His hands roamed your body, fingers digging into your skin as he tried to pull you even closer, his thrusts rough but filled with raw need. “You feel… so fucking perfect,” he murmured, barely able to get the words out as his rhythm grew erratic, his hips moving instinctively as he chased the building pleasure that was consuming him.

Lost in the sensation, his pace faltered, his movements growing sloppier, more desperate. He pulled you tighter against him, his body shuddering with every thrust, his head falling to your shoulder as he let out a deep, broken groan, his voice strained and breathless.

“God… can’t… gonna come…soon” he whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of awe and helplessness as he felt himself teetering on the edge, holding on only by a thread as he lost himself completely in the warmth of you.

With each thrust, Satoru’s body trembled, his breath hitching as he felt himself nearing that precipice. The warmth enveloping him tightened further, the way your walls pulsed around him driving him wild. His movements grew more frantic, instinct taking over as he chased the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him.

“Please—please..” he gasped, desperation lacing his words as he quickened his pace, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the room. He was lost, intoxicated by the feeling of being inside you, and it was as if everything else faded away. The world outside ceased to exist; it was just the two of you, tangled together in a whirlwind of passion.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, the heat pooling in your core intensifying with every movement. “S’toru… yes—yesss just like that,” you encouraged, your voice breathy as you matched his rhythm, pushing him closer to the edge. Your words seemed to ignite something primal within him, and he let out a deep, guttural growl, thrusting into you with abandon.

“Fuck—so good… you’re so good,” he gasped, his eyes rolling back again as he felt the pleasure building rapidly, tension coiling tightly in his belly. Every sound you made, every gasp and moan, drove him closer to madness. He could feel the pressure mounting, an almost unbearable intensity that threatened to consume him completely.

“I can’t hold back much longer,” he warned, his voice low and strained, nearly a whine as he fought against the overwhelming need to release. “I want to feel you—want you to feel me…”

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you completely, his body shaking as he let go, pleasure crashing over him like a tidal wave. “Oh—fuck!” he cried out, his voice echoing with a mix of ecstasy and disbelief as he came, filling you with warmth. His body quaked with the intensity of his release, and in that moment, everything faded into pure bliss, leaving only the two of you tangled together, breathing heavily in the aftermath

As the waves of pleasure began to fade, Satoru’s breath came in uneven gasps, his eyes still glazed with the aftereffects of the ecstasy he’d just experienced. He looked down at you, the warmth of your bodies still mingling, and a sudden thought struck him—a spark of wild desire that seemed to take over his senses.

“Marry me,” he blurted out, the words tumbling out with an urgency that surprised even him.

Your eyes widened, momentarily caught off guard. “Wha—what?” you stammered, disbelief flickering across your face.

“I know it’s crazy since we just met, but… you’re just—so amazing, and I don’t wanna let you go! That was—” he hesitated, a dreamy look crossing his face as he recalled the sensations. “Your pussy’s s‘ good. I can’t just… I can’t just walk away from this. I don‘t want anyone else now..”

You let out a soft laugh, a mixture of incredulity and amusement bubbling up inside you at his unfiltered honesty. What is happening? you thought, still trying to process the whirlwind of events that had brought you here. “You don’t even know my name!” you exclaimed, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I don’t need to know,” he replied, leaning closer, his eyes half-lidded with that intoxicating mix of lust and affection. “I just know you’re incredible. It’s like—like fate or something. I want you to be mine, like— forever.”

His words, though impulsive, were laced with sincerity, and you could see the way his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, even as excitement radiated from him. This is insane, you thought, but there’s something so genuine about him. “You’re serious?” you asked, searching his eyes for any trace of jest, but the sincerity in his gaze was unmistakable.

“Dead serious,” he confirmed, his expression earnest but still slightly dazed, the effects of what had just transpired clearly clouding his thoughts. “I don’t want to waste any time… so, uh, what do you say?” His voice wavered slightly, betraying his nervousness despite the confident facade he tried to maintain.

Could this really be happening? you thought, your heart racing at the idea of such an impulsive commitment. You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest at his unexpected proposal. “Alright, let’s see where this goes, Prince,” you replied teasingly, excitement bubbling beneath the surface. “But you better be ready for more than just this.”

“Y-yeah! Totally!” he stuttered, his enthusiasm shining through the haze of lust. “I’m all in. Just… just tell me your name, and I promise to be the best husband ever.”

© fvsm4x : do not translate, plagiarise or steal my work.

[prideprejudce]

people saying that users aren’t being compassionate enough towards the billionaires stuck in the death coffin at the bottom of the ocean and calling us “ghouls” for bringing up the absolute absurdity of the entire situation and it’s like……of course no one ever deserves to die by suffocation or freezing to death and it’s a hope that by some miracle that these people are found and somehow saved. however people are aloud to point out the irony of how our current wealth gap is so high that there are people who are able to spend 250k, an amount that most people don’t see in their entire lives, like it’s a movie ticket. except instead of seeing a movie they are entering a death chamber to the bottom of the ocean so they can gawk at the mass grave of over a thousand people

“the CEO of the company tricked them and he’s the real capitalist villain while the other passengers are blameless” I agree that the CEO (who is also stuck in the submarine with them) is as grimy as they come and cut corners in order to make as much money as possible. that’s a given. but as we are seeing now, most people who have never even stepped foot in the ocean their entire lives could see that this was a disaster waiting to happen. you don’t have to be a maritime expert to see that. the submersible has no emergency beacon, is controlled by an off brand game controller, made from parts from a camp store, navigated by texts from above, is bolted in from the outside, and has a contract that passengers sign that mentions “death” three times on the front page. most people couldn’t be paid to step foot in it - and these people paid 250k to go to the bottom of the ocean in it

once again, no one is relishing at people dying stuck in an essentially gutted out minivan at the bottom of the ocean. especially when one passenger is 19 and the other is a legitimate titanic researcher. but people are allowed to be mad that thousands upon thousands of dollars of taxpayer money and resources are being used to try and literally pluck these people out of the ocean and save them from a grave that they literally helped dig themselves into without a care in the world. they are the 1% who can put themselves in peril as much as they please and spend money and waste resources like it’s water but will always expect to be saved from the brink of death by us regular folk so they can call themselves an “adventurer” at their next luncheon

[dragongirlsnout]

HUGE DASHBOARD UNFUCKER UPDATE!!!

I'll spare you the boring details, but up until now, the script has reverted the vertical nav update by essentially waiting for the page to load most of the way, and then quickly moving everything back to where it should be. This works decently fine of course, but of course there are issues with feature parity when it comes to things that Tumblr removes outright. And every time Tumblr removes another feature, I have to manually spend anywhere from minutes to hours trying to replace it.

HOWEVER, update 3.0 does away with all of that by simply disabling the flag that marks your account as part of the vertical nav beta test before the page loads. This reverts your dashboard to the proper layout without shuffling anything around after the page loads and effectively disables the vertical navigation layout and all future updates to it.

I owe a massive thanks to @twilight-sparkle-irl for knowing how to deobfusticate Tumblr's hidden settings! I couldn't have done this without your work!!!

[giannaln4]

I'm Sorry

lando norris x fem reader

summary: A moment of frustration made Lando react the way you never thought he would, and boy, would he regret it.  (1.6k words)

warnings: angst, swearing, argument, mean lando,  fluffy ending

a/n: ok so for this, i decided to go back to Baku and put the quali result in a totally different perspective than my last fic. i guess i kinda like it but i'm not very good at describing arguments 😭 anyway pls let me know what you think!!

ALSO i have an announcement to make and i'm really excited for it :)

check out the original request here!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

The qualifying this weekend was an absolute mess, to say the least. Lando was hard on himself no matter the result he got. Even if it was good, he would always find something to criticise himself, but P17? Everyone was in for a treat, you thought.

The worst part is that it wasn’t even his fault; it was a stupid mistake by the marshals, and he was not to blame for it. A yellow flag interrupted his lap, and he was immediately kicked out in Q1. 

Seeing the first qualifying session being over with his name in red was not something anyone wanted to see, especially not him, and now that every point was essential, you knew it crushed him.

He came back to the garage to see the rest of the qualifying with his team, and as soon as he got out of the car, you saw how frustrated he was. You understood him, of course, it sucked that this is how the weekend was going, but you would be there for him no matter what.

Once Lando took off his helmet, he headed straight to his driver’s room, and he didn’t even look at you when he walked past. That meant he wanted to be alone, but oh silly you, you decided to follow him.

He let out a loud sight when he heard the door open and close behind him, not really in the mood to hear what you had to say. He knew for a fact you were going to tell him he did well and it wasn’t his fault, which he greatly appreciated, but right now, he just wanted to suffer in peace.

“Baby?” You called him out, just testing the waters, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he hummed in annoyance. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but-”

“You are right, I don’t want to hear it,” he interrupted you, not even turning around to face you. He placed his hands on the desk and leaned into it, taking a deep breath. 

That should have been your cue to leave the small room and leave him alone, but for some reason you didn’t. “Lando, don't beat yourself up over this. It wasn’t your fault, and I’m sure things will be better tomorrow. We all know what you can do and you still have the race-“

“This is MY job, Y/N. I probably know better than you do,” he snapped, raising his voice and finally turning around. “This is what I’m fighting for, we all are. Do you know what’s at stake here? I finally have the chance to compete for a championship, and I just blew it.”

To say you were astonished was an understatement; this was the first time he ever snapped at you that way and you didn’t know how to react. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“Every point counts, and not even starting in the top 10 tomorrow- fuck, not even top 15, there is not much I can do.” Now, he looked more mad at you than frustrated at himself, and that crushed you. “I came here to be alone for a bit, I was hoping you would at least respect that." You stayed silent, knowing a single sound would make you cry, and you didn’t want to piss him off more than he already was. “I know you are trying to help, but you are not, you can’t.”

You just stared at him, tears threatening to leave your eyes; he had never raised his voice at you in a heated moment, and it hurt like hell. You definitely should have stayed outside. 

He walked towards the door and stepped out of the room without uttering another word, leaving you alone to deal with your own feelings. 

As soon as the door was closed, you started crying. It was your own fault, really; you could always read him like a book, even today, and you knew better than to disturb him when you weren’t supposed to, but today for some reason you just couldn't keep your mouth shut. Idiot.

You tried to calm yourself down; the last thing Lando needed was to see you cry on top of his result, but it was harder than you expected. This being the first time an argument got so out of hand made you feel absolutely terrible, especially because it was your fault. Deep down, you knew he didn’t mean it, you knew it was his feelings talking, but that didn’t make it any less painful.

A few minutes went by and you could still hear the cars out on track, the mumbling of the team, and people constantly working out there, so you tried to use that as a distraction. Anything to take your mind off what just happened. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t help, but at least you ran out of tears, and now you were just staring at a blank wall, thinking how you could begin to apologise for earlier, if he would even give you the chance to. 

Truth is, you weren’t sure if bringing it up again would be a good idea; you wanted to apologise for disrupting his cooldown moment, but what if hearing that made him mad again? Or worse, what if you didn’t apologise and made the situation even bigger? Your spiralling made you lose track of time, and a knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“The car is about to leave, Y/N, they are waiting for you,” you heard someone say on the other side of the door. You were at least hoping Lando would come and get you once it was time to go back to the hotel, but he didn’t.

“Thanks, I will be there in a minute,” you replied, grabbing your things and Lando’s before sprinting outside. 

The car ride was hell. Lando didn’t look at you the entire time; he was just staring at his phone, texting who knows who, his face as neutral as ever. It felt longer than it actually was, and when you finally got there, he just stepped out of the car and didn’t look back. You let out a sigh and followed him, leaving a prudent distance between the two of you. 

Once you were in the hotel room, you both started to get ready for bed, like you usually did, except this time, you didn’t acknowledge each other. 

That was until you were already on your side of the bed and he came out of the bathroom, taking the spot next to you and burying his face on his phone again. The entire time you were building up the courage to say something, anything, now that you decided that apologising was the right thing to do.

“Lando?” You called for him, but again, he just hummed in response. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You were right, I shouldn’t have said anything, and I should have respected that you just wanted to be alone.”

That’s when it hit him. How could he get so mad at you for trying to make him feel better? 

He dropped his phone and turned to face you, and noticing your sad expression and teary eyes broke him. His eyes softened as guilt washed over him. Why were you apologising when he was the one who reacted like that? But as soon as you looked down at your hands to avoid eye contact and tears started falling down your face again, he felt even worse. 

“Y/N… Baby, I’m so sorry.” He got closer to you, softly taking your cheeks in his hands to get you to look at him. “Please don’t cry, I’m sorry I acted like a dick and raised my voice at you,” he stared, wiping your tears away, carefully thinking about what else he could say. 

You, on the other hand, didn’t know how to react. Your plan was to apologise and hopefully move on, but now that he was apologising, you didn’t know what to say; you didn’t want him to feel guilty, even though it was his fault you were in that position right now. If only he took a different approach. 

“It wasn’t your fault, okay? You were just trying to help, and I should have appreciated that, you know that I do, I just... I don’t know, there is no excuse for what I did.” But you were still silent and trying to avoid eye contact. “Baby, say something.” 

“Lando, you yelled at me.” You finally replied, your voice a bit muffled by your tears.

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that, and I promise I’ll never do it again.”

After a minute of silence, you just nodded, which made him let out a sigh of relief. “Okay.”

“Okay? I’m sorry, my love.” He pulled you into a hug, your head on his chest as he placed a soft kiss on your head. “I know I was a dick, and I really wish I was nicer about it.”

“It’s okay, I get it; you were frustrated with your result, and I should’ve known better than to interfere with what you were feeling.”

“No, it’s not okay. I was frustrated, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” Lando was rubbing your back softly, trying to bring you the comfort you tried to give him earlier. “I love you, and I can’t describe how much I appreciate everything you do for me; I know having to deal with my shit is not easy, so thank you.”

“It’s fine, I mean it.” You looked up at him, locking eyes finally in the entire day. “Just... don’t push me away, okay? And if you do need to be alone, just say it, and I promise I will listen next time.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

He gently placed a hand on your check, rubbing small circles before leaning in for a kiss, one both of you much needed. And with one final ‘I love you’, you feel asleep in his arms.

[white--moon]

A brow arches slightly, "Like the other times." But he supposes he already knew Ichigo was getting rides from Shuren, he found that out at the party. It ruffles his feathers a bit, but it probably shouldn't. Then he he starts to respond, but pauses and frowns a little; did Ichigo just say everyone already thinks he's a psycho? Totally possible... Whatever. "Yeah, everyone I work with. I take this car to do other things, y' know, like to the store to stock my fridge. What happens when I pop the trunk and it's wrapped in tarp and some paranoid lady sees it?" That quieter tone makes him feel a little bad about the entire thing and he's not even sure why. Since when has he ever felt bad about anything he's done or said? Especially when he's right. "I probably would have. At first. But I know you're right. I would'a figured that out eventually."

Ok, so he's right; there's nothing wrong with anything Ichigo listed. He snorts a quiet laugh and wonders if that was supposed to be a compliment or just matter of fact, because it sounds like a compliment to him. Plus, Ichigo's right; if Shiro wanted him dead, Shiro would have made it happen one way or another. He's a stubborn, vindictive asshole like that. "Hah. So I have at least one, kinda messed up virtue if you squint. I'm countin' it, your educated guess was wrong."

He rolls his eyes and huffs a sigh. "If you wanna go on a date, just say so. Don't put my car in a ravine for fuck's sake. I might actually cry about it before I started murdering you and that's just pathetic. Then I'd miss my car and you."

Shutting the engine off, he climbs out, glances around briefly, and wonders if there's a reason Ichigo said park in the back or if that's just the normal parking area. He locks up and joins Ichigo, stomach making the sounds of a stomach that's hasn't had food in way too long, which is kind of ridiculous because he always eats plenty.

He offers up a blank look. He knows exactly what answer Ichigo’s looking for, and in general, for a normal person, he’d tend to agree. But, “I work for a drug lord.” So… yes, he has. “Sometimes you don’t ask questions if you know what’s good for you.” That doesn’t really mitigate what Ichigo’s saying though. “But yeah, he should'a asked.” He almost makes a comment about how Ichigo’s too much of a pushover to be afraid to question, but holds his tongue just barely, figuring he’s pissed him off enough already this morning. He looks over, “I don’t just drive around with it wrapped. D'you want me to look like a psycho?” But Ichigo has a little bit of an epiphany and Shiro sighs a heavy breath. “Didn’t I say I probably would'a come around and agreed? I just would'a needed time. If you feel like doin’ that kinda thing again, you can ask me to be your ride.”

He shrugs a shoulder; that’s fair.

Then he frowns and looks over again, fingers tapping on the wheel a bit. “What’s wrong with any of that? I have virtues, they’re just not-” He gestures vaguely, “the same as what’s expected of us, I guess, and I don’t give a shit about pretending to be something I’m not. That’s a virtue in itself.” Right? Probably. It sounds like one.

Ichigo’s all tense and uncomfortable in the passenger seat just because of a fast turn and it really lightens his mood. As far as he’s concerned, Ichigo deserves a little spook every now and then. It’s good for him. He rolls his eyes, “I’ll take the keys with me and if you still manage to push it into a ravine, you better be in it or under it or I’m gonna kill you.” He follows that gesture with his gaze, then pulls the car around back to park so they can finally get some food.

[daydreamerdrew]

The Defenders (1972) #80

[celestialprincesse]

🎀💞

I just know that Simon Riley wants his face sat on🤭

nsfw below the cut 🪷 mdni

You'd always been a little shy when it came to sex, understandably so considering that your boyfriend was a real life Adonis, some kind of cruelly beautiful deity come to taunt you for your prudishness. Obviously, you and Simon had done it, you'd fucked countless times when he came back from deployments or frustrated from debriefings gone bad, but it was always, for lack of a better word, tame. You'd always assumed, given his past, that he wouldn't be down to have sex, period. The beginning of your relationship was a minefield of navigating boundaries and understanding the complexity of the beautiful man you got to share your bed with. What you foolishly failed to recognise, however, is that whist you subconsciously saw Simon as wounded, he saw your fragility as clear as day, like a ripple under the surface of clear water.

He'd aways been so impossibly gentle with you, even when you'd wanted things differently, too afraid to ask him and send Simon spiralling back into that dark place he'd only recently been pulled from.

"Want you to fuck my face." Simon's deadpan voice snaps you from your reverie, brings you back to where you lay sprawled and waiting in the centre of your shared bed.

"I'm sorry?" You barely manage to splutter, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at where he sits patiently between your knees, not even needing to look down to your panties to know that your cunt is already dripping.

"Fuck, love." The sound of his exasperated sigh makes you feel like you've done something wrong, but the almost pained crinkle of his eyes confuses you. "You need me to spell it out? I'd like you to sit on my face and let me eat you out." Simon's words make you choke, jaw hanging agape as you process the fact that not only is he willing to take such a step in your sexual relationship, but also that he's so seemingly comfortable with the idea of you essentially fucking his face. Sure, he's eaten you out before, but never in such a compromising way. "Are you -" A soft kiss being placed to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is enough to silence you as you look down at Simon practically grovelling between your legs.

"If you don't want to, you can say no, baby." "It's not that I don't want to. I just don't want to - fuck." You huff, slumping back against the mattress with a sigh as you struggle to find the words you need to express the way you feel. "You don't want to fuck?" He smirks wickedly at you, one hand still cradling your outer thigh as he presses his cheek to the warm skin, trying to lighten the mood. Ease you up a bit. "Simon." "Tell me what you're thinking. I'll make it make sense." God he's always so unbearably patient. It almost has you in tears.

"I just - I'm not so confident with stuff like that, you know? I mean it took us six months of having sex for me to even feel comfortable enough to ride you. Now you want me to sit on your face?"

Simon's eyes soften at your reasoning, and he practically drags himself up the bed until he's face to face with you, propping himself up on his elbows to stare down at your face, so beautifully flushed and bashful.

"If you don't want to do it, that's fine, but I need you to know, that I look at you and get hard okay? You're the most beautiful thing I've seen. Ever. If I died by being suffocated between your legs? Fuckin' kill me already, yeah?"

His words have you giggling softly as you play with his hair, distracting yourself from the burning arousal in the pit of your tummy.

"Okay." You nod, slowly, meeting his eye to make sure that he sees you're serious. "You don't have to say yes if you're not sure." "I'm sure, but can we go slow?" "Of course, baby. We can do whatever you feel comfortable with."

It doesn't take long for you to be sat nervously on Simon's hips, clothes piled on the floor, discarded in order for you to sit naked atop him, bottom lip pulled nervously between your teeth. "Do I just -" You point awkwardly between the general vicinity of your cunt to Simon's face, heart fluttering when you catch the way he gazes up at you like some sort of statue, some masterpiece. "Mhm." He nods slowly, pupils blown impossibly wide, the chocolate of his gaze turning almost entirely black. You feel his massive palms take your hips, guiding you up to your knees before settling your slick cunt just over his face.

"Sit." He grunts when he doesn't immediately feel the press of you against his mouth, his nose barely touching your puffy clit. "What if I hurt you?" "I'll let you know. Now, sit." Before you know it, his fingers are digging into your hips, leaving you gasping at the suddenly overwhelming sensation of his entire lower face stuffed against your pussy.

"Holy sh-" You whine, already beginning to roll your hips in search of stimulation, all whilst Simon gives a contented hum which rumbles through you and has you clenching around nothing. His hands guide your hips in their rhythm as his tongue licks a flat stripe between your wet folds, leaving you stuttering and your eyes rolling back, all whilst you grip onto his hair like of you let go he'll disappear entirely.

He sets a languorous pace with his tongue, eating at you like you're his final meal, hands digging firmly at the meat of your ass whilst he uses the slight bump at the bridge of his nose to press up against your clit, making you dizzy. Whilst he uses both hands to guide you, you use the hand not tangled into his hair to roll a hardened nipple between your thumb and forefinger, the sensation going straight to your pussy and making you gasp. Simon, perceptive as ever, notices your want and pushes his tongue inside you to push just that little bit further - and he can tell that you're close by the way your thighs clench around his ears and the fact that you're wonderfully more vocal than usual.

Similarly, sensing your oncoming orgasm, you desperately attempt to pull yourself off of him, all of a sudden shy about cumming on his face like you haven't done it countless times before. Your wriggling is met with a small slap to your ass which has you seeing stars as the small sting snaps the elastic band stretching taut in your lower belly, and Simon laps up every bit that you'll give him.

"Didn't think that men like me got to go to heaven." Simon sighs when you both lay sprawled and happy in bed together.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

I did not intend to write 1.1k of smut when I opened my laptop this evening but boundaries and communication are just so !! sexy !!

N e ways I'll just leave this here for y'all💕

[nopanamaman]

What’s the deal with Tsar and Arthur?

Today we’ll look at the two most popular members of Sanya and Yura’s friend group, Tsar and Arthur, a.k.a. Anger Management. How did they meet? What’s their life like? And most importantly, why the hell are they so angsty?

Let’s start with the older one.

Arthur Sokolov

Joining the orphanage

Arthur was brought to the orphanage not long after being born. He never met any of his parents.

Growing up in a state-funded shelter meant developing a clear understanding of what kinds of behaviours will and won’t result in getting your shit kicked in. You can’t be too cocky, and you can’t be too weak. Follow the hierarchy, but don’t let your fear of elders show.

Arthur learned to navigate that little society well. He had earned respect among kids his own age and younger, and avoided being pushed around by the older teenagers too much. Less due to a noble heart and more because of being too proud to act like a doormat. 

However, that didn't make him immune to peer pressure.

Correctional psychiatry

Business trip.

Many low-end orphanages across the former USSR had been essentially transformed into incubators for future gang members. “Businessmen”, either by bribe or threat, came to these institutions to recruit impressionable children into their organisations. One such uncle visited Arthur’s foster home.

For kids like him, the course of action was simple:

misbehave;

get sent to a mental institution for corrective treatment;

sneak as many bottles of trihexyphenidyl as you can into your bag during your stay;

leave the hospital as normal;

transfer the trihexyphenidyl to a gang representative and get your paycheck.

Under that business model, Arthur became a frequent guest at psychiatric wards. Having witnessed their indifference and medical callousness firsthand, he had developed a massive disdain for all kinds of mental health professionals.

It started even before joining the gang, of course – way before. It’s hard not to foster a vendetta when you get thrown to the looney bin for any misstep. At first he tried to honestly convince the doctors working there that he was fine, but he eventually realised it was futile: they were always in on the punishment.

Hustling continues

Arthur and Ivan at 15 and 17 respectively.

As Arthur grew older, he got more deeply involved with the gang’s activities alongside other kids. This meant participating in transfers, standing watch during certain deals, acting as a “treasure man” (i.e. hiding drugs in agreed upon places for clients to pick up), and so on. Fights were frequent.

He knew it was a slippery slope, but getting out was not an option – not an easy one, at least. This was the period during which he grew close to Ivan, who was commonly assigned to work with Arthur and other children from their institute.

They bonded on the basis of wanting to leave the business, though for different reasons: most of all, Ivan didn’t want to disappoint his grandma.

Getting out

First meeting with Yura.

The sudden disbandment of the gang was a relief to both Ivan and Arthur. A major member got caught and ratted almost everyone out, except for the dozens of orphans involved. So while Ivan went to turn himself in, Arthur got to walk free.

Before going, Ivan suggested Arthur replace him at his pop’s car repair salon. The boy seemed to have a knack for fixing things, and the two had developed a trusting relationship over their time working together.

While everything was looking fine, Arthur still wanted to destroy all traces of his activities - even those that couldn’t reasonably be tracked down to him. This led to him encountering Yura. Despite the very rocky start of their acquaintance, they went on to hang out together pretty regularly.

As of today, Arthur continues to do part-time at the workshop alongside Ivan. Both are committed to never getting back into the criminal business. Unless you count Sanya's Dynamo. Which you shouldn't. Having experienced what actual gangs are like, Arthur finds it hard not to look down at the girl's little roleplay.

Tsar

Joining the orphanage

Before coming to the orphanage, Tsar lived with his grandma. She died when he was 6. Since his parents had lost their parental rights due to alcoholism a couple years prior, there was only one place for him to go.

Tsar had a very hard time adjusting to the rigid hierarchy of the foster home. He was lucky enough to catch Arthur's attention and, in a sense, got scooped under his wing. The boy disliked relying on the older kid too much, but was too weak to stand on his own.

Gang involvement

How come mom lets you have two trips to the mental ward

Since Arthur got dragged into gang activities earlier than Tsar, the younger kid felt jealous. He, like most other children, fully bought into the romanticised idea of criminal life that was pushed by the uncles visiting the orphanage.

But as years went on, he saw the toll it had begun to take on Arthur. Tsar had taken a couple of correctional trips to mental wards as well, though he'd never participated in any illegal schemes. Those times were bad enough - he couldn't imagine going there again and again on purpose.

By the time Tsar would be old enough to get recruited into the business, Arthur forbade him from it. The kid still wanted to join to prove his worth, to earn his share, to show his guts. But his trust and respect for Arthur were stronger.

As much as he hated the idea, he stuck to the sidelines.

Contact with parents

Teatime with family.

Tsar’s parents reached out to him a couple years after he was transferred to the orphanage. He could only meet with them under supervision up until he was 13 years old. Afterwards they were allowed private meetings.

Today, he occasionally comes to visit them at their apartment. They still drink, but to Tsar, they just seem quiet and pitiful. He usually lends them the pocket money he receives from the orphanage. He knows they won't return it.

Anger Management

Ural models are known for their incredible durability and a baffling number of switches.

Tsar found a creative release in music and wrote songs to vent his frustrations. The orphanage had an old acoustic guitar that he learned to play, but it got completely broken when the boy was 13. After Arthur joined the workshop, he bought a black Ural from Ivan’s dad for cheap, upgraded its port, and gifted it to Tsar.

As it turned out, Ivan’s dad was hopping from one band to another in the 80s-90s, so he was happy to accommodate the kids' creative endeavours. He allowed them to use the spare garage space to practise and even supplied an incomplete drum set.

Tsar begged Arthur to back him up with drums. The latter begrudgingly agreed to learn them, but ended up really enjoying hitting barrels with sticks. Right now their band has a tiny local following, mostly in the face of Sanya Kazarina.

Some notes

I remember sitting down and reading about actual orphanage experiences in the post-soviet space – it was eye-opening, but also gave me a lot of material to work with, as heartless as that probably sounds. A lot of things simply clicked into place.

I didn't go into too much detail here, but FYI, I've downplayed the severity of certain situations. Trauma aside, I'd say both Tsar and Arthur got quite lucky in the end.

[nasa]

Navigating Deep Space by Starlight

On August 6, 1967, astrophysicist Jocelyn Bell Burnell noticed a blip in her radio telescope data. And then another. Eventually, Bell Burnell figured out that these blips, or pulses, were not from people or machines.

The blips were constant. There was something in space that was pulsing in a regular pattern, and Bell Burnell figured out that it was a pulsar: a rapidly spinning neutron star emitting beams of light. Neutron stars are superdense objects created when a massive star dies. Not only are they dense, but neutron stars can also spin really fast! Every star we observe spins, and due to a property called angular momentum, as a collapsing star gets smaller and denser, it spins faster. It’s like how ice skaters spin faster as they bring their arms closer to their bodies and make the space that they take up smaller.

The pulses of light coming from these whirling stars are like the beacons spinning at the tops of lighthouses that help sailors safely approach the shore. As the pulsar spins, beams of radio waves (and other types of light) are swept out into the universe with each turn. The light appears and disappears from our view each time the star rotates.

After decades of studying pulsars, astronomers wondered—could they serve as cosmic beacons to help future space explorers navigate the universe? To see if it could work, scientists needed to do some testing!

First, it was important to gather more data. NASA’s NICER, or Neutron star Interior Composition Explorer, is a telescope that was installed aboard the International Space Station in 2017. Its goal is to find out things about neutron stars like their sizes and densities, using an array of 56 special X-ray concentrators and sensitive detectors to capture and measure pulsars’ light.

But how can we use these X-ray pulses as navigational tools? Enter SEXTANT, or Station Explorer for X-ray Timing and Navigation Technology. If NICER was your phone, SEXTANT would be like an app on it.  

During the first few years of NICER’s observations, SEXTANT created an on-board navigation system using NICER’s pulsar data. It worked by measuring the consistent timing between each pulsar’s pulses to map a set of cosmic beacons.

When calculating position or location, extremely accurate timekeeping is essential. We usually rely on atomic clocks, which use the predictable fluctuations of atoms to tick away the seconds. These atomic clocks can be located on the ground or in space, like the ones on GPS satellites. However, our GPS system only works on or close to Earth, and onboard atomic clocks can be expensive and heavy. Using pulsar observations instead could give us free and reliable “clocks” for navigation. During its experiment, SEXTANT was able to successfully determine the space station’s orbital position!

We can calculate distances using the time taken for a signal to travel between two objects to determine a spacecraft’s approximate location relative to those objects. However, we would need to observe more pulsars to pinpoint a more exact location of a spacecraft. As SEXTANT gathered signals from multiple pulsars, it could more accurately derive its position in space.

So, imagine you are an astronaut on a lengthy journey to the outer solar system. You could use the technology developed by SEXTANT to help plot your course. Since pulsars are reliable and consistent in their spins, you wouldn’t need Wi-Fi or cell service to figure out where you were in relation to your destination. The pulsar-based navigation data could even help you figure out your ETA!

None of these missions or experiments would be possible without Jocelyn Bell Burnell’s keen eye for an odd spot in her radio data decades ago, which set the stage for the idea to use spinning neutron stars as a celestial GPS. Her contribution to the field of astrophysics laid the groundwork for research benefitting the people of the future, who yearn to sail amongst the stars.  

Keep up with the latest NICER news by following NASA Universe on X and Facebook and check out the mission’s website. For more on space navigation, follow @NASASCaN on X or visit NASA’s Space Communications and Navigation website.  

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[above-and-beyond-boating]

Master Essential Navigation Skills with Our RYA Online Course

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[heartysworld]

The Deal // Lando Norris

A/N: I'm literary writing this as the England-Spain final is happening so I've got absolutely no idea whether I'm going to jinx it or guess the winner but I guess we're about to find out!

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

MASTERLIST

W.C. 2k

The week between the Silverstone and the Hungarian Grand Prix was a much needed break in the intense Formula 1 schedule. Half the racing season was over, and you and Lando both needed a distraction from the relentless grind of the sport. It was the perfect opportunity to do something fun, to escape the pressure, and enjoy a few days just for yourselves.

“Alright baby, I have a proposition,” Lando said one evening as you both relaxed on the couch in your shared apartment, the remnants of a takeout dinner spread out before you. His fingers were gently running through your hair, and you could feel the tension of the season easing away.

“Oh? Do tell,” you replied, looking up at him with a smirk, already intrigued by whatever he was about to suggest.

“You know how you’ve been dying to go see a  Taylor Swift concert?” he began, a mischievous glint in his eye. You could already tell where thus was going.

“Obviously,” you replied, excitement bubbling up at the mere mention of it.

“Well, I’ve been thinking… What if we make a deal? We go to the Taylor Swift concert in Milan, but the next day, we head to Germany for the Euro Cup final. I'm sure we can figure something out regarding the concert tickets. Deal?” he proposed, his smile widening as he extended his hand towards to as a form of an agreement.

Your heart did a little flip. The idea of seeing Taylor Swift live had been a dream for you, and combining that with Lando’s passion for football seemed like the perfect plan for the remaining time before the next race in Hungary.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Norris,” you agreed, shaking his hand in a mock-serious manner.

The days leading up to the trip were filled with excitement and anticipation. You both packed your bags, making sure to include all the essentials – your Taylor Swift outfit and Lando’s favorite football jerseys. For a bit of fun, you had even gotten Lando a shirt that said, “So many Sainz, so little time,” a playful nod to his friendship with Carlos.

Finally, the day arrived. You and Lando boarded the flight to Milan, the city buzzing with the same energy that coursed through your veins. After checking into the hotel you'd be staying at, you quickly changed into your concert outfits. You wore a beautiful flowy dress that sparkled in pink and blue hues and twirled as you walked, while Lando sported his new shirt with pride.

As you arrived at the concert venue, the atmosphere was electric. Fans were everywhere, their excitement palpable. You grabbed Lando’s hand, your eyes sparkling with joy.

“This is it, Lando! I can’t believe we’re really here,” you exclaimed, squeezing his hand.

“I know, love. Let’s make the most of it,” he replied, pulling you closer as you navigated through the crowd to find your VIP seats.

The concert was everything you’d dreamed of and more. Taylor Swift’s voice filled the arena, her energy was infectious. You sang along to every song, your voice mingling with thousands of others. Despite not knowing all the lyrics, Lando joined in with your enthusiasm, dancing and cheering with you.

During “Love Story,” Lando placed his hands on your waist and twirled you around, his eyes never leaving yours. You laughed, your heart feeling light and free. The moment was perfect, a memory you’d treasure forever.

“Thank you for this, Lando. This means the world to me,” you said, your voice barely audible over the music.

“Anything for you, Y/N,” he replied, leaning in to kiss you softly.

Throughout the concert, fans recognized Lando and started handing him friendship bracelets. By the end of the night, both his hands were covered with colorful, handmade bracelets given to him by enthusiastic Swifties. The sight of Lando, a Formula 1 driver, adorned with friendship bracelets made you smile.

When “Shake It Off” started playing, you couldn’t contain your excitement. You jumped up and down, hugging Lando tightly, and he joined in, laughing and dancing along with you. Unbeknownst to you both, several people in the audience captured photos and videos of you two, sharing your unfiltered joy.

The next day, you were up early, the excitement of the previous night still lingering. After a quick breakfast, you and Lando hopped on a flight to Germany. Unfortunately, time wasn't on your side and you had no chance to explore the beautiful city of Milan with the love of your life. However, this led to Lando's idea for a vacation in Milan during his summer break.

The Euro Cup final was an event Lando had been looking forward to for months, and you were determined to make it just as special for him as the concert had been for you.

As you arrived at the stadium, the sheer scale of it took your breath away. Fans from all over the world were gathered, their team colors proudly displayed. You wore a jersey in support of Lando’s home country, earning an appreciative smile from him.

“Ready for this?” you asked, taking his hand as you made your way to your seats.

“Absolutely. This is going to be epic,” he replied, his excitement evident.

The match was intense, the atmosphere charged with energy. England was facing Spain, and the tension was palpable. You found yourself getting caught up in the excitement, cheering and shouting alongside Lando. When England scored the winning goal, the stadium erupted in celebration. Lando lifted you up in a jubilant hug, spinning you around.

“We did it!” he exclaimed, his eyes alight with joy.

“You did it,” you corrected, laughing as you hugged him tightly. “This was incredible, Lando. I’m so glad we came.”

“Me too, love. This has been the perfect weekend,” he replied, kissing you deeply.

Later, as you made your way back to the hotel, fans also captured moments of Lando jumping and cheering, celebrating England's victory. Videos of his infectious excitement quickly spread online, fans delighted by the sight of him in his element.

Back in your room, you cuddled up on the bed, exhausted but happy. Lando pulled you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

“I love you too, Lando. Thank you for everything,” you replied, snuggling closer.

As you drifted off to sleep, you knew that this weekend would be one you’d both remember for the rest of your lives – a testament to your love, your shared passions, and the joy of making deals that brought you closer together.

The next morning, you woke up to a flurry of notifications on your phone. Curious, you opened social media to find that videos and photos of you and Lando from both the concert and the football match had gone viral. Fans couldn’t stop talking about how cute you both looked together, enjoying something you each loved.

There were clips of you dancing and twirling to “Love Story,” Lando’s hands on your waist, and another of you jumping up and down, hugging him tightly during “Shake It Off.” Then, there were the heartwarming videos of Lando cheering and jumping when England won, his pure joy infectious.

“Looks like we’re famous,” you said, showing Lando your phone. He chuckled, pulling you into another hug.

“I guess the world likes seeing us happy,” he said, kissing your forehead.

And as you lay there, wrapped up in each other, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for these perfect moments you had shared, knowing that you had created memories that would last a lifetime.

MASTERLIST

[tom-whore-dleston]

Side Effects of Soldier Boy

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x f. reader

Word Count: 391

This fic contains: smut, literally PWP, drug use, unprotected sex, dirty talk, swearing, degradation, Soldier Boy doesn't pull out

Summary: Soldier Boy tries to keep you quiet during sex.

Notes: Wake up babes, Jordan discovered a new hottie to write about lmaoo Anyways, I know Soldier Boy is a walking red flag but unfortunately, I see the world through rose colored glasses hadshghsdl This is another submission for @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt no. 239: Seal it Tight. Lowkey, I've been on a role with these quick fics, I don't want it to stop.

Sex with Soldier Boy was addicting. You would say it was more addicting than the cocaine that coursed your system. The blow was essentially the gateway drug to Ben.

The side effects: uncontrolled moans and orgasms that made your soul leave your body.

The two of you found yourselves in a rundown motel room, where Ben plowed you into the mattress at superhuman speed. His strong hand clasped over your mouth, in hopes to seal your cries of pleasure from the outside world. Considering how cocky of a bastard he is, it was bold of him to assume that simply covering your mouth would keep you quiet.

“Mmm, baby, those moans are so pretty, but so loud.” The supe grunted through clenched teeth. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Ben’s pulsing cock stretched your walls. You gushed around him, causing each thrust to echo through the dainty room.

“God damn, even this pussy is loud,” Soldier Boy chuckled, making you throb. “Think you want the neighbors to hear me fuck the shit out of you, huh?” 

His dirty talk was no help to hushing your moans. Yet, it did push you closer to that sweet release you craved. With Ben being the instigator he is, he knew damn well what he was doing. 

The pit in your stomach was growing and it was only a matter of time before it exploded. You pumped your hips up to meet his and he took this as a signal to deepen his strokes until his balls slapped your ass. You were one step away from the edge when Ben removed his hand from your mouth to throw both of your legs over his shoulders.

“Fuck it, let the neighbors hear you. Let ‘em know how much of a slut you are for me.”

That euphoric bliss finally washed over you like a crisp ocean wave. You could have drowned under the wave but a kiss from Ben brought you back to shore. The handsome supe slammed into you one last time before filling you with his seed. He crashed onto the empty side of the bed, fingers lazily tangling between yours. The two of you laid there, staring at the cracked ceiling while catching your breaths. Just as you were coming down your high, you already itched for another hit.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Soldier Boy Masterlist

header credit: @saradika | divider credit: @firefly-in-darkness

[nickeverdeen]

Hello! May I request a headcanon of Ekko with a woman who is essentially an introverted foreigner who ended up joining the Fireflies, and Ekko falls in love with her?

Ekko falling in love with an introverted foreigner woman who joined the Fireflies hcs

The arrival of a foreigner in Zaun doesn’t go unnoticed

You’re quiet, reserved, and keep to yourself, making you stand out among the boisterous inhabitants of the city

Your skills and knowledge, honed in your homeland, quickly earn you a place within their ranks

Ekko, being a leader figure among the Fireflies, decided to help you get acclimated

Your initial interactions are formal and brief

Ekko tried to engage you in conversation, but your nature makes it difficult for you to open up

Of course Ekko respects your boundaries

As you go on missions together, Ekko starts to see glimpses of your true self which earning his respect

You, in turn, begin to see Ekko as more than just a leader as he slowly becomes a friend

Ekko makes an effort to reach out to you in small ways

He shares stories about Zaun, introduces you to his friends, and shows you around the city (when possible)

Ekko hopes that this makes you lower your guard a bit

Your quiet conversations become a regular occurrence

You both talk about your pasts, your hopes for the future, and the struggles you face at the moment

You find yourself drawn to Ekko’s optimism and resilience, qualities that contrast sharply with your own nature

An unspoken understanding begins to form between you two

You don’t need to talk constantly to feel connected; your each other’s presence alone brings comfort

He appreciates your silent support

Ekko becomes increasingly protective of you which doesn’t go unnoticed by others

He’s always looking out for you during missions, making sure you’re safe

You notice his concern and starts to rely on him more, feeling a sense of security you haven’t felt in a long time

There are moments of vulnerability when you open up about your past and the reasons you left your homeland

Ekko listens without judgment, offering his support and understanding trying to heal your old wounds

Ekko starts to realize his feelings for you

It’s not just admiration or friendship; it’s something deeper

He finds himself thinking about you constantly, wanting to be near you and make you smile

You begin to notice Ekko’s subtle signals

The way his eyes linger on you, the gentle touches, and the genuine concern he shows

Slowly your own feelings start to mirror his

One night, after a particularly intense mission, Ekko finds the courage to confess his feelings

You both are sitting in a quiet corner of the Fireflies’ base, when he tells you how much you means to him and how he’s fallen in love with you

You might be kidna taken aback at first, but you reciprocates his feelings

It’s a tender, heartfelt moment that solidifies your bond

You both navigate your new relationship with care and respect

Ekko understands your need for space and quiet, while you make an effort to engage more with him and the Fireflies

(No preassure)

You guys find a balance that works for both of you

You share your dreams for the future with each other, both personal and for Zaun

Trust becomes the foundation of your relationship

You learn to rely on Ekko, knowing he’ll always have your back and Ekko does the same

Your relationship becomes a support system for both of you

You face the dangers and uncertainties of life in Zaun together, drawing strength from each other

The Fireflies notice the change in the pair, seeing how your bond has made the lovers even more formidable

You balance your duties to the Fireflies with your personal relationship

It’s not always easy, especially for Ekko, but he makes it work

You become each other’s anchor, a constant in a world that’s often chaotic and unpredictable

Your love story becomes a beacon of hope for others in Zaun

It’s a reminder that even in the darkest times, love and connection can flourish

(That sounds cheesy, my bad)

As your relationship deepens, new threats emerge

Rival factions, internal strife within the Fireflies, and the ever-present danger of Zaun’s underbelly put your bond to the test

Both Ekko and the woman make sacrifices for each other

Ekko takes on additional risks to protect you, while you step out of your comfort zone to protect and support him

There are moments of doubt and fear

The pressures of the environment sometimes strain your relationship, but you always find your way back to each other

Despite the challenges, you find joy in the little things like:

Quiet moments together, shared laughter, and the simple pleasure of each other’s company

Your relationship has a positive impact on the Fireflies

You start discussing long-term goals, both for yourselves and for Zaun

Your vision for the future includes not just survival, but thriving and building a community where others can find the same sense of belonging you’ve found in each other

As time goes on, you start to talk about creating a future beyond the Fireflies

A life where you can build a home, have a family, and live in peace

Your bond becomes unbreakable

You become a shining example of what it means to fight for love and to build a life together, even in the most difficult circumstances

(That was also cheesy and I apologize for that, but I’m not removing it)

[tealvenetianmask]

I want to think a little about Blitz's self-perception with regard to his lack of education/sophistication. In my opinion, HB gives us a very accurate portrayal of what it feels like to navigate relationships when you're a person with a long history of feeling like you're never good enough ("I can always do better").

Let's start with his friendship with Moxxie, though like a lot of my posts, it will find its way back to stolitz.

Moxxie doesn't necessarily have more formal education than Blitz. I mean . . . he likely had the economic resources growing up, but I don't think Crimson seems like the kind of parent to prioritize education. Besides an education in violence. I assume that both Blitz and Moxxie had some basic education as kids, but the difference is that Moxxie likes "high culture(ish)" things like musicals and bow ties, enjoys knowing details about history, and probably reads for fun. He's also the kind of ". . . um actually . . ." friend who can make even a secure person feel a little stupid. Not that Blitz doesn't sometimes need to be called out, but Moxxie does seem to take some joy in correcting him.

And yes, Blitz bullies Moxx and calls his junk tiny and tells him to eat a salad, but like . . . it's pretty obvious that to some extent, Blitz is covering up for feeling inferior to Moxxie on some level.

We see how Blitz really feels about this in Truth Seekers.

Borrowed observation from excellent reaction youtuber Omn1media: When Blitz hallucinates Moxxie lecturing him, Moxxie goes really hard specifically on the insults to Blitz's intelligence. Moxxie's speech is also much more rambly/laced with figurative language than it is in their real (non-imagined) interactions.

We can see from Blitz's face in these scenes that these comments really get to him. Of course they do- he's making them up in his own nightmare.

"Foolish flights of fancy" is the rest of the caption there . . ."

He's very upset by the idea that he's really inferior to Moxxie- under all of the bravado, he's deeply insecure. It probably doesn't help that the truth gas made him admit that he didn't like the musical that Moxx recommended. Yes, I know that was a Cats joke, but also, Blitz bothered to lie, and he doesn't seem allergic to hurting Moxxie's feelings, so I think he wanted to pretend to "get" the "higher art" that Moxxie likes.

Okay so if Moxxie (with an essentially equivalent status and education) manages to unintentionally make Blitz feel stupid and uncultured, how does this translate when Blitz falls in love with Stolas, who IS objectively very high status and very well educated and DOES speak in "fancy rich people" language?

Oh. Right. The pedestal, the impossibility, and all of that.

I'm not saying that Hell's strict hierarchy doesn't have a lot to do with how Blitz perceives a real relationship between himself and Stolas as impossible- it absolutely does. And so does his history of failed relationships and heaping backpack of trauma. But also, the education/sophistication piece is there, and it's major.

I'm on the fence about whether Blitz actually sees himself as stupid or is just worried about being perceived that way by others. He obviously knows he's very good at the work he does, and that takes both a certain level of strategic thinking AND some very brilliant improvisation. I think he knows this. But he also knows he'll never . . . let's say, be the best read person in the room (if you want to know my thoughts on Blitz and literacy, click here- but short answer, I think he's quite literate but also dyslexic).

I think that like many real people who are kind of out of the box in this way (disrupted education and/or neurodivergence) he's simultaneously aware that he's very intelligent AND deeply insecure about being stupid or having others devalue his kind of intelligence.