#i dont want to have to fucking message a person every time i want to say something

[itsalwaysdark]

i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is

[vermin-fangs]

Being condescending to poor & disabled people who have less than you is definitely a good way to get donations, I'm sure that's really working out for the people you are trying to help. What's the exchange rate exactly for superiority points

[glassanimalcollective]

.

[swagging-back-to]

im littchhherally so over constantly putting 220% into every conversation and getting the most dry and uninterested/uninteresting replies in existence.

[snekdood]

if words are not enough to get a manipulative person to leave you tf alone and hit the road, wtf are ya supposed to do? maybe throw a small toy at them to send a message

[melissa-titanium]

GOD therseomuch shit to do i thought id have time today to DO stuff. its the fucking weekend why do ihave to do 2 classes and go outside and literally do something for school . the weekDAYS are always busy i havent had a free moment since i fucking joined

[skylilac]

i love talking to her but we are so bad at talking

[stupidnaturals]

.

[phagodyke]

.

[s1llybug]

trying to process and heal from the trauma that a certain someone caused me and trying to talk myself through it (while being plural and mentally unstable) is currently going somewhere along these lines

(warning: some pretty triggering and very personal discussions from me in the tags however feel free to just relate to the funny pitture)

[synthetic-sonata]

good lord got a post put on my dash that was some Fandom Opinion blog talking ab how things irl shouldn't be mentioned in spaces where it's not meant for. curiously, i searched racism, and well, what you expected to happen happened,

[shithivemaggot]

hhfbb

[alicentlesbian]

i keep getting so fucking sad about how tumblr is most likely going to die soon-ish. every other social media sucks ass and having an irl social life is nearly impossible for me (so social media and fandom is important to me) and even if i could find friends everyone in my city is too goddamn normal for me to want to befriend. i dont want to be friends with the boring normal neurotypical people in my city who have no real interests or hobbies i want to be friends with people who are extremely mentally ill and autistic about television

[moody-alcoholic]

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 2 - Not Guilty

As promised part 2 because I have no self control... CW: Dead dove don't eat , torture, no comfort yet.

Previous parts - masterlist - next

It's different today. They’ve switched tactics.

John came in with a box. Simon reaches in and pulls out a snake. 

They’re using your fear against you. 

Something you told them in confidence, a secret, something vulnerable you told them. It brings tears, makes a pit form in your stomach as you remember you can’t move. You can't escape.

John holds your head in place as Simon agitates the snake causing it to hiss. You try to turn away but John holds you firm.

“Tell us what you know and this can all go away.” His voice is low in your ears. 

“I don’t know anything.” You whimper as Simon moves closer. You’re kicking your legs, or trying to. They're strapped down just like your arms. You’re powerless to stop them, what if it's poisonous? What if it bites you? 

You never thought you would prefer a method of torture more then another. You never thought you would be in this position. The water-boarding still continues. Only this time when you open your eyes you’re face to face with your biggest fear. 

You've not screamed before. Even as they hurt you, even as they broke your resolve. You’re screaming now. It feels like a fever dream, between the lack of oxygen and the constant presence of your fear, you can't even focus on John's questions. 

“I don't know anything, please make it stop!” You beg as you keep your eyes squeezed shut, your head hanging down as you sob. You’re cold and tired, your body shaking. It’s been hours, at least you don’t think you’re afraid of snakes anymore.

The door to the room fly's open, you look up, it's Kate with a tablet in her hands and a look of horror on her face.

“It's not her.” She says. John takes the table out of her hands. “We’ve seen the messages. We have the guy.”  Someone else is in the room now pushing past her. Kyle, he comes straight over to you. He presses his warm hands on your face. You try to smile at him but you can’t.

It almost doesn't feel real. 

“Laswell, go get a medic!” It's Kyle’s voice level and controlled. You feel your restraints loosen and you slump against Kyle. There's another hand on your shoulder. 

Maybe it's not over yet.

“No! Don’t fucking touch her.” The hand leaves as Kyle pulls you to your feet wrapping your arm around his shoulders supporting you as you lean against him.

You can’t remember the last time you were on your feet. You look back. You see Simon looking at the tablet now, John's eyes focused on you as Kyle pulls you closer, his arm gripping your waist. 

You dont think you’ve ever seen that look on John’s face before. 

Fear.

You barely register meeting the medics halfway to the medbay. Hands touch you, your body is moved but you stay silent only nodding or shaking your head at them.

You’re poked and prodded, your body examined from head to toe. Kyle is always there, you see him out of the corner of your eye. His arms crossed his gaze soft, sometimes talking to the medics.

Then you’re alone again. 

Your mind turns to Johnny, he's in this hospital somewhere. Fighting for his life. He’s all you care about now. 

You dont cry again. You want to, tears threatening to spill every time you remember what happened. John's face, his shouting. Simon's eyes, hard and dark like daggers digging into you. 

They’ve made requests to see you. You refuse. The only person you’ll see is Kyle but even then you barely speak a word to him. He keeps you updated on Johnny's condition. He avoids topics about Simon and John. 

He still asks you every time he visits if you’ve got anything you want to pass onto them. That's when you have to bite down on the inside of your cheek and look away. Hoping you haven’t betrayed yourself. 

You’ll never let them see you cry again.

That night you sneak out of your room. Your body is stiff and sore but you don’t care, you want to see Johnny. You need to see him. After a little bit of searching you find his room, he’s alone on the other side of the ward. 

That's when you cry, when you see his body laid up in bed connected to tubes and wires one even shoved down his throat breathing for him. You pull a chair up next to his bed, you take his hand in yours lacing your fingers with his. 

This feels like your fault, maybe it is. Or maybe it’s the fact you’ve spent the last few days being told it is. You stroke his arm telling him how sorry you are. That's where you let the tears out. You let yourself be upset with them, angry at them, the people you love. 

Or maybe loved. 

They’re not the same people you knew before you were locked in the room. And neither are you.

next I need overprotective Kyle in my life Banners by firefly-graphics

[aridadne]

posting a lot today but allowing myself to take up space and relax and vent soooooooo!

[papaya-twinks]

ok so what abt a lando one where there’s an age gap and he’s always been obsessed with her and like stalkers her, does research on the guys she brings home and goes out with basically totally dark stalker vibes. But the thing is she knows she has a stalker but no idea who it is bc whenever he confronts her he is wearing his racing helmet, and they always do even more each time they meet, liek first time they met he just caressed her but then like the 3rd time fingers her and 4th fucks her. THEN SOMEWEAR IN IT PLSSS. Lando has a sex tape of them and jerks off to it and thinks ‘fuck I can’t do this anymore’ kidnaps her and now she’s kinda like his toy but sugar daddy vibes bc he treats her well. And this is all consensual bc the reader wants an adventure as her ex bf was so vanilla ( which lando knows allll abt and explains in detail to her what she used to do with him) THATS ALOT IM SRRY U DONT HAVE TO DO IT

Warnings: Five year age gap (sorry, large age gaps make me squeamish), stalker, dark fic, 18+ kidnapping, sex, smut, 18+, consensual, sex tape, fingering, abusive partner (not Lando), sugar daddy, swearing

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - I’m adding some biker!lando into this coz his F1 helmet is just cutsies but a black biker one? dark dark shit right there.

Lando had met you at an F1 race, where you’d been in the garage. Something about how darn innocent you looked with your pretty little dress, all young and…wow. And with the help of Oscar (who simply thought his teammate just had an interest in some girl), he found out about you.

Y/N Y/L/N. You were 19 years old, your favourite colour was pink, you were cute and innocent and sweet, and you loved bows and ribbons. How adorable. And so it began, Lando followed you on a burner account, and watched all your stories, pinpointing your exact location to be in Monaco.

Oh how perfect, you were in the same country as him and, conveniently, he had the whole summer break to play around with the information.

y/n

caption: spending this day alone but with a great cafe to make up for it :)

friend3: oooo, have fun 💗💗💗

-> y/n: will do, thank you x

friend2: looking chic, y/n!

friend1: enjoy yourself and try the chocolate cake 👀

user1: café can’t be as gorgeous as you are 😉

-> y/n: oh, thank you?

You had just brushed off whoever ‘user1’ was, not really paying much mind to unusual flirty message, and continued with your day at the cafe. However, you couldn’t shake the slightly unsettling feeling that you were being watched.

You’d seen this happen in movies, and you couldn’t deny that the slight tingle of adrenaline coursing through your body wasn’t enjoyable. And so you looked behind you, from your cake and your phone, your eyes locking with someone else’s.

Well, more you found yourself staring back at a helmet. A plain, slick black helmet, the person wearing it adorned in a leather black jacket and light blue jeans. You couldn’t see any features to help show you who it was, but it was kind of…interesting.

Did you confront the person? No, you’d seem desperate or stupid. So you went back to your food, and never once did it cross your mind that perhaps, user1 was your stalker. But you didn’t see the stalker anymore. And you were a little disappointed they’d moved on so quickly, but you too moved on, going on your dates, looking for love, as girls your age did.

“Jason? What the fuck?” Lando said, eyeing the new name at the bottom of your followers. He’d skimmed through them, making a note of each and every person on your Instagram list, but seeing a guy? He couldn’t deny the feeling of annoyance in his stomach.

And thankfully, he’d made note of the guy’s instagram enough to see where the date would take place. Foolish, foolish move. And once again, you were sitting at a chair opposite this man, Jason, when your eyes fell on the same, sleek black helmet once more. Holy shit. And quicker than it had come, it was gone. For fucks’ sake.

*1 month later*

You and Jason were dating now, and to say he was toxic was an understatement. “Jason, I’m just gonna go out with my friends,” you said, picking up your purse as he scowled from the sofa, still in his sleeping clothes. “Why? So you can see some guy under the guise of friends? Likely,” Jason scoffed.

He was frustrating. “I’m not seeing another guy, I’m going with my friends,” you said, repeating your words as he groaned. “For fucks’ sake, Y/N, no means no!” he yelled, his words making you flinch as you sighed and dropped your purse back down.

“Fine, if you’re gonna be a brat, fucking go!” Jason seethed, pushing you to the door. Well, at least you’d get to go. The meet up with your friends ended a few minutes later, and just as you were leaving..,the helmet. This time, you would confront him. Or her.

“Uh, hi,” you said, walking slowly towards the helmet-man. He was definitely muscular. You were standing in the middle of an alleyway, the darkness flooding round you as the helmet stared down at you from his spot. “Uh, I’m Y/N,” you said, holding your hand out for him to shake.

He didn’t shake it.

You watched as he placed a hand in your shoulder, still not having said anything, and interlocked your other hand in his. He pushed a bit of paper into your hand, your eyes on the words. A phone number. Interesting. As soon as you looked back up, he was gone.

unknown user

y/n: hello

user: Hello.

y/n: who is this?

user: you don’t need to know.

user: come to the boulevard tomorrow at 9pm. leave jason behind. tell him your seeing a friend.

Holy shit x2. The air of mystique around whoever this was…was somewhat unsettling but at the same time, it was kinda a turn on. And wait, how did he know who Jason was? Oh, he’d done his research. Nice one.

And so you did what he said, managing to wriggle out of Jason’s possessive gaze, and you found yourself, waiting where this stalker had said. And there he was, in the same jacket and the same helmet, looking back at you. And perfectly on time, as well. Either he was desperate or…well, you didn’t know.

It was dark all round you, no one around and the streets unlit in this area. You watched as he reached out a gloved hand, taking your hand in his and pulling you between the trees, the mask of the night shielding you. He had strong hands.

You didn’t truly care what he’d do next, as he sat you down, the dry earth coating the back of your dress as he pushed it up, your thighs visibly shaking. A soft gasp left your lips as he trailed his hand over your core. You hadn’t worn panties. Good.

It was almost like he was complimenting you as he gave you a small smack on your thigh, before he removed his glove, dipping his finger between your folds as you moaned, eyes wide. “Shit…” you trailed off, your eyes wide as he added another, your knot building up. Fucking weeks of faked orgasms, and this one felt real.

He didn’t say anything, simply moving his hand faster, the tan skin of his fingers curling as he rubbed at your clit with his thumb. Who was this fucking angel? A loud moan left your lips as your orgasm flooded over you, his hand moving from between your legs, the remnants of your pleasure on his hand as he wiped it down his jacket, watching you for a second, before he left.

Part 1 of his plan: complete.

And the next day, you received yet another message from the same user, your eyes lighting up. It was an address.

user: [address], 10pm. no panties either.

And you arrived at the surprisingly grand hotel, showing the receptionist the room number and she gestured the way. You paused outside the door, thoughts of everything flashing through your head. Who was this man? Was he safe? Was he dangerous? Fuck it, you just needed another orgasm.

As you walked in, you failed to notice the little camera set up on the desk behind a bottle of lotion, your eyes on the man standing in the doorway of the en-suite bathroom. You didn’t say anything, neither did he, as he walked to you, lifting your dress once more and laying you down on the bed.

With one hand, he dipped his fingers into your core, the other hand undoing his belt as he dropped his trousers, taking your hand and wrapping it round the base of his (surprisingly large) cock. You heard the small sound of a groan, not enough to identify who it was, but you pumped his slowly, his own hand toying with your core.

Still, he’d didn’t remove his helmet. You gasped as he pressed his cock against you, one hand pressing down on your throat gently, the restriction of your airways adding to the pleasure, as his other hand pressed your stomach down to stop you from arching. You whined as he tugged your jaw forwards, forcing you to look at the small bump in your stomach.

Holy shit x3.

You gasped as he started moved, your lips parting as he moved his head down, lifting the visor and pressing immediately to your neck, so you couldn’t see anything but his lips as he licked at the supple, sweet skin of your collarbone. His hips picked up pace as you moaned, his fangs nipping at your skin as he peppered kisses to your neck.

You could feel the pleasure build up in both of you as he held you down, his hand moving from your neck to massage you clit in soft, slow circles, his other hand kneading the skin of your breasts. “Shit,” you muttered as he sped up, the knot in your stomach building faster and faster as you suppressed your moans, your eyes rolling.

He pulled out before he came, spilling the liquid onto your thighs as he bit down once onto your neck, sucking the hickey under your coat and out of sight, before fixing you up. And then he pushed you out the room. Oh god.

“What the fuck?!” Jason snapped, stepping into the shower with you. “Where did you get a hickey from?” he asked, your eyes wide. You’d totally forgotten about it. “You gave it to me last time we fucked,” you said coolly, trying to play it off. “Oh…right,” Jason muttered. Wow, he was stupid.

“Fuck,” Lando gasped, his eyes rolling as he tried to keep his attention on the video of the night before, his hand desperately trying to recreate the sensation of your tight cunt, how good it had felt having your warmth clenching round him. “For fucks’ sake,” Lando muttered staring down at the menial drops of cum coating his hand.

And there was only one way he could have you all of himself. Kidnapping. But, how? You were walking down the boulevard once more, trying not to stare at the spot where you’d been fingered by the mystery man, clutching your bag as you walked down to a bakery, where you wanted to pick up your cakes.

And then, a hand on your mouth, followed by a cloth, and out you went.

……….…………………………

Your lashes fluttered open as a piercing yellow light hung over you, your eyes returning to usual as you looked round the room. You had an itch under your nose, and you reached your hand up, only to find your wrists tied together and to a radiator. What the fuck?!

And then you saw it, the pieces falling into place. A laptop placed perfectly so you could see it, with the video of the mystery man fucking you playing on. The helmet placed onto the side cabinet. A phone with ‘user1’ and the list of all your images he’d saved. What was this?

“Hello sweetheart,” a voice said, the second word dripping with almost condescending sarcasm as you looked up, your eyes locking on a pair of greenish-blue ones. He was the stalker? He was hot, though. “What are you doing, who are you?” you writhed against the ties as he scoffed.

“Fight all you want, then,” he shrugged, “I know you want this,”. You shook your head at his words, making him roll his eyes, before he bent down, untying the tie on your wrists and kneeling to your height. “Don’t wanna be here, is that what you want me to believe?” he smirked. “Then go on,” he gestured to the bedroom door.

“Run, then,”.

But you didn’t. You didn’t run. Though you knew you should, that this wasn’t right, but you didn’t move. “Exactly,” he leaned down to whisper into your ear, running his tongue over the mark he’d left, a shiver rushing up your spine. “Get on the bed, then,” he said with a little sinister smile, but you obeyed.

“On your back, lift your dress,” the man said, directing you with a firm voice as you did what he said, your back against the mattress, your hands tugging the material of your dress upwards. “Good,” he eyed your body, “think a little introduction is in need,”.

“I’m Lando,” he said, his lips brushing your ear as he removed his jeans, “you’re Y/N. I know that,” he said, pumping himself a few times before aligning with your entrance as you gasped. “I know how Jason was a dick,” he continued, “I watched you fake those orgasms,” Lando mused, “and how that cunt of a ‘boyfriend’ never once gifted his perfect little girl anything,”.

You whimpered as he took your chin in his fingers, pressing his lips to your jaw, before sliding into you, his other hand taking a little box from behind you, sliding the ring onto your index finger as he rocked his hips. “Oh, god,” you gasped as he sped up, your hands digging into his shoulders.

“I watched how that cunt couldn’t even make you cum, Y/N,” Lando smirked, “such a pretty girl and he couldn’t even make you cum,”. You whined at his words, your body bouncing a little as the lewd sounds of your skin hitting his as he slammed into you, your eyes rolling in pleasure.

“Cum for me,” he said, his teeth bared against your neck as you gasped, your whimpers filling his ears as he carried on. Oh what he fun he’d have with you.

A/N - I love this.