#starting off STRONG today folks

[midnight-mourning]

Snowy Snuggles

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 19❄️❄️

ahem, i saw the phrase cuddles and kisses and went ham, I would apologize but I think we all know that you people are going to eat it up, so enjoy!

Prompt: sun/moon’s systems freezing up because of the cold so reader decides ah… cuddles and kisses to the boyfriend(s) to warm them… sun and moon try to make it as unobvious as they can that theyre warmed up because they love love love reader’s cuddles but they are steeeadily starting to overheat because ohhh they love reader so much

Word Count: 1234

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You bend down and light the last candle, snuffing out the match a moment later and discarding it. The entire room is enveloped in a soft, warm light with the amount of candles you have in here. They're pretty, but they provide no heat. That, was something you were going to have to figure out yourself. 

There's an old wood stove still set up in the basement, but you only have a little bit of wood for it currently, you'd need to go out back tomorrow and chop some. For now, you'd just have to hope the house won't get too cold on you. 

It wasn't you that you were worried about, and this power outage wouldn't have been a big deal, if you and the boys hadn't just spent all day out in the snow, and had come inside expecting to warm up significantly. 

You spare them a glance, the light's just enough for Sun to be out, as he huddles under the pile of blankets you'd provided. Your heart twists with concern as you see him tremble. You're sure they'll be okay, it's just, not a great situation currently. 

"Hey." You softly call out. "Doing alright over there?"

Sun perks up, looking over to you. Tone more cheery than you think he actually is. "Of course, Sunshine! We're okay, I promise."

"You don't look okay to me." You walk over, cupping your hands around his faceplate. "This is all my fault, if I'd noticed the outage sooner I could have planned better. I'm so sorry."

Sun's rays flutter, not having the energy for his usual spinning. "Don't say that! We insisted on staying outside so long. It was a complete and total fluke that the power went out. Nothing you should be blaming yourself for, alright?" His hand reaches up for your wrist, leaning into your touch. 

"Okay,"—you sigh, then giggle as he kisses your wrist, you take a step back—"I'm gonna go grab my dinner, and then I'll be back."

Sun nods, and lets you go. 

You give him once last look, and hurry off into the kitchen. By the light of your phone's flashlight, you make yourself a sandwich or two, and pour a cup of cold coco. You check to see if there's any updates on when the electricity will be back, but you still have no signal. 

Deciding that that's not good enough, you search the cupboards and find your old storm radio, along with your regular one, and bring them and your food back with you from the kitchen. 

When you get back, you don't miss how Sun scrambles back from holding his hands over the candles on the coffee table. He feigns innocence, sinking back into the blanket as your frown deepens. There's got to be something you can do to help, and you have an idea in mind. 

You set everything down on the end table, turning on both radios. The storm radio doesn't have any updates, but the other softly plays holiday music, bringing some life to the living room. Then, you turn your focus to Sun, hands clasped. 

"Yes, Starshine?" He asks, a little on edge at the look on your face.

You wave your hand. "Open up that blanket, that's my spot."

It takes him a moment, then it clicks. "O-oh! Of course." He opens the blanket, and his arms. 

You all but hop into his lap, snuggling close as you wrap your arms around his neck. Then, you pull back and kiss him once, grinning. "Thought I'd provide the best heat I could think of. If that's alright?"

Sun's stare is blank, unmoving. Then, his rays spin rapidly and he nods several times. It makes you laugh as you reach over for your sandwich, snuggling further into his lap as he brings the blanket back around the two of you. 

"Sorry in advance for any crumbs, but after getting pelted with snowballs all day I'm kind of hungry." You take a bite, reveling in it for a second. For a cold sandwich, this slapped.

Sun chuckles, arms coming to rest around you. "I suppose just this once it's alright, special circumstances and all that."

"Good, because I wasn't asking." You snicker as he huffs. 

After finishing your sandwich, you get even cozier, entwining your fingers with Sun's and snuggling your head against his neck. 

Bored, and also feeling cheeky, you place a kiss to his neck, followed by another, and another. 

He stiffens and you grin to yourself, continuing with a squeeze to his hand. Eventually the position starts to ache, so you decide to turn around so you're straddling him. When you do so, you make eye contact and smirk. 

"Hi." You say. 

"Hi."

You interlock both your hands with his, leaning back in so that you're only inches apart. "Mind if I get back to work?"

"Wo-work?" Sun asks. 

You giggle. "Mmmhmm. I've got nothing better to do than sleep, and to be honest, I'm not really in the mood for that." You kiss the edge of his smile. "So, want to help me with that?"

Sun's hands squeeze yours, tight. For a moment, you swear you hear a low humming sound, but it's hard to tell with all the blankets and the radio. 

"Very much so, yes."

You grin again, closing the remaining small gap between the two of you. "Let's get to it then."

After, a plethora of kisses is exchanged between the two of you, and you think Sun has melted into the couch, you decide it's Moon's turn. 

"You ruined him, you know." Moon snickers, forehead against yours. "He's comatose in here."

You chuckle. "That was the intention."

"I hope you don't think it's going to work twice, Star."

Your hands wrap around his neck, fingers slinking between the wires there. When he shudders you pull one back, using it to grip his chin while you pout. "Are you sure? I'm gonna be real sad if it doesn't."

"Brat." Moon mutters, but with how he's avoiding eye contact you'd say you've already won. 

You lean in to kiss him only to hesitate, when he puts his hand up between you. 

"Oh, sorry, I wasn't—" He takes your head, and places it against his chest. 

Now closer, you can hear the noise from earlier, which you now understand was their internal fans. And it clicks what's happened. 

Your face starts to burn. "I see."

"We tried to hide it." Moon coughs. "But now it's becoming a problem."

You pause, then shift back to gape at him. "You're overheating? Are kidding me?"

Moon ducks his head and you can't help the astonished laugh you let out. Then, you hug him, shaking your head in disbelief. 

"Guess we don't have worry about freezing up after all, huh?"

"Don't start." He warns, but it's half-hearted, weak. 

You laugh again. "Okay, okay. No kissing for a bit then."

Quiet. 

"I can always go back out in the snow for a few minutes if you want..."

You scoff, baffled. "If I want? Excuse me, I think tha—"

Moon interrupts you by pulling you further into him, muttering something you can barely make out. 

And if you weren't so incredibly offended, you might have taken him up on that offer.

Emphasis on might. You are pretty cozy right now, regardless of being able to kiss them or not.

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Thank you for the request @vypridae!! I very much enjoyed writing more cuddly kissy fluffy things, and flustering the boys that too :)

Masterpost link

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a

[cheyisagirlkisser]

"She Gets the Job Done!"

Cowgirl Ellie x Fem! Reader

Content: Cowgirl Ellie, Fem! country reader, Ellie is western type of cowgirl, reader is southern, badly written accents(guys I am southern but idk how to write a western accent), smut, clit rubbing(r! recieving), scissoring, making out, biting, some implied homophobia, reader is written as a lesbian, modern AU, reader has female anatomy, very loosely based off of Chappell Roan's unreleased song.

Word Count: 2.4k

Resource Credits: Here and Here!

Description: You're a true southern girl who is fed up with these country boys who just can't please you. What you really need is a woman, but that's kind of hard to seek out in a small southern town. When Ellie Williams moves into your town along with Joel Miller, she ends up working at the farm nearby, and you really want her. It's true: only a woman knows how to treat a woman right.

Wow, you really hated living in the south sometimes. You mostly loved the summer heat complimentary with trips to the creek on the weekends. You always loved going to rodeos where you obsessed over the dandies. You loved southern food, the nature, the farms and the small town life.

What you didn't love was the men.

You were always a romantic at heart, reading steamy western novels with a flashlight under your blankets at the age of 14 or writing love letters you'd never send to cowboys in town. However, as you grew up into a woman, you realized you'd slowly started replacing the men with cowgirls. You spent your nights wondering what it'd be like to be actually satisfied in a relationship. You grew up in a traditional-minded town, so you tried to push down those desires. You had a couple boyfriends, but men just weren't it for you. They were too rough, too awkward with you in bed, too greedy. None of them knew how to please a woman, at least not a woman like you. After a while, you gave up on the dream cowgirl you had in mind. The novels became difficult to pick up once you began to believe you'd never get the chance to experience real passion or real pleasure. That was what you'd felt like, at least until Ellie moved into your town.

Ellie Williams wasn't much for the south. She was a western girl at heart, adorned with thick leather boots and messy auburn hair. You'd seen cowgirls before, so that wasn't what surprised you. You just felt a calling to her, you adored her from her freckles that faded out in the sun to her messy hair that had a tint of red when light hit it in the right way. She was strong, that was for sure. Her biceps looked so firm, like they could handle if you sank your teeth down into them. She wasn't an extremely strong-looking girl, but that only enticed you more. Her eyes told a lot about her, said she wasn't looking for anything funny, but you wondered if she was silly under all the bravado.

She moved from the west side of the states with Joel Miller, who wasn't a wealthy man by any means, but grew up in your home town. At first, you couldn't tell if Ellie and Joel were related or not. Joel was more friendly, talked to older folks in town, but Ellie often kept to herself. She'd spend most of her time helping out with the farm next to your father's. It was when you were walking to the farmer's market that you noticed her for the very first time.

Your father was a nice man, well known in town. You were living with him until you had enough money to afford your own small place. He owned a farm and wasn't the most rich man, but he made ends meet. Today was a nice day, which mean he unfortunately encouraged you to walk to the local farmer's market instead of stealing his truck for the errand. Of course, you kept your complaints to yourself. Your dad was a sweet old man, and you should've been thanking him anyways, cause you met the most gorgeous girl the world had to offer.

Poor Ellie was too busy herding in sheep to notice your stare, to even notice you pass the road. It only made you more intrigued, that she was such a hard worker.

After that day, you'd always look out for her presence. You avoided using your dad's truck when you needed to run errands, saying it would be a quick walk. You just liked being able to pass by her as she worked on the farm, get the extra few seconds to admire her. You really felt like a creep, but this was the first time you really felt such adoration for a person. Such attraction.

The first time you spoke to her, she was driving Joel's truck down the dirt road after she had finished up with your neighbor's farm. You at the time were walking, coming home from the market with a bag of peaches for a peach cobbler. Ellie noticed you, and that was really when the two of you clicked.

She was used to pretty girls, the west and south had no shortage of them. However, you were perfection for the cowgirl. You wore a cutesy pair of overalls and a pink t-shirt underneath, and Ellie had a soft spot for feminine girls. She came to a slow stop on the dusty road, putting the transmission in park.

"Hey, you! Need a ride?" She shouted with a smile plastered on her face. Your heart melted. You'd expected her to be more serious or smug, but she seemed almost nervous. It was only making your heart beat faster.

"I only live next to this farm, it's really no problem." You assured, though you really hoped she'd push the matter. Thankfully, she did.

"Really, Joel would kill me if he found out I let you walk home. It's getting late."

You, an utterly hopeless lesbian, couldn't resist. You said fuck it and let her reach over to open the passenger door for you, and your boots reached up into the truck to plop down into the passenger seat. You placed the brown paper bag of peaches in your lap and gave her a quick thanks as she began driving. Small talk felt more like two old friends hitting it off, and you liked her accent. It made you a tad more comfortable.

The two of you grew really close after that day. She'd be in the local rodeos and you looked forward to the sleepovers that came after. A few months of friendship helped you get to know her in a way that you could confidently call her your best friend. You still liked her though, feelings only growing the more the two of you bonded. You noticed that while she was a bit shy, she came out of her shell when she was around people she knew. She was quite sarcastic to Joel, and you loved the way she made fun of you at times. It made your heart flutter, and you imagined she was saying the opposite of whatever insult she had created for you.

Ellie wasn't much like what you'd imagined, and you partially felt bad for the feelings harbored away for her. She was a cowgirl who loved horses, sure. But she shared some private interests with you that shouldn't have made you want her more, but it did. One night, Ellie and you were sitting outside in her cow field, a blanket laid out beneath the two of you. She turned to you with a genuine smile, the warm look that she only gave very few people, and spoke in a quiet voice.

"You know, I've always wanted to go to space."

You turned to face her with slightly raised eyebrows. "Really? You? In Space?" You couldn't help the surprise in your tone.

She laughed softly at your expression. "Yes, dumbass. I used to listen to the first moon landing recording on repeat. Somethin' about it was really magical, ya know?"

You couldn't help but melt a little at her confession. The thought of Ellie being obsessed with astronauts was really endearing. But you couldn't stop the teasing, either.

"Is that why you have those nerdy space comics on your shelf? You told me those were Joel's!"

Ellie scoffed and swatted your arm playfully, but her hand lingered on your skin. "That's a topic for another time. Be grateful I share my secrets with ya."

You felt the warmth of her fingers, the way they softly traced patterns on your bare arm. Right then and there, you suddenly needed to risk it all.

"Ellie...I..I really need to tell you something." You sounded shaky and uncertain, but you needed to get your feelings out, even if it meant facing a possible rejection. This girl was too perfect to let get away.

"Yeah, what's up?" She sounded curious, unaware. That made you feel uneasy.

"I just..well, when I first saw you, I thought of you as a completely different person. And I really liked you. I liked you in a romantic way. I got to know you, though. The thing is, I think I like you even more. And I'm so sorry if you-" You were suddenly cut off when her plush lips met yours.

You were shocked, but quickly kissed her back, hands grasping at her everywhere, pulling her to lay on her side so you could tangle your legs with hers. It felt so nice to be kissing her. She tasted like fruit and smelled even better, and her tongue felt hypnotizing against yours. It made you crave much more.

Soon, you were rolled onto your back so the cowgirl could lay on top of you. Her hands were trailing from your sides to your stomach, her hand pausing above your shirt, her eyes meeting yours to search for any hesitation. When you nodded, her hands slid up your shirt to massage your tits through the fabric of your cotton bra. You let out a quiet whine, the feeling of her weight pressed on your body, and she leaned in to press her lips against your neck. In response, you tilted your head back, desperately craving more of her. You could feel the shakiness of her breath, and it reminded you that she was just as nervous as you were.

"Do you wanna keep going?" She asked, and you really noticed how different her tone was from when she was usually speaking to people. One of her hands trailed down the button of your jeans, and she didn't continue until you nodded.

Her hand quickly unzipped your jeans, her eyes meeting yours. She thought you were just too beautiful, looking up at her with wide eyes. She adored you. Her fingers slipped into your panties, and she let out a little "fuck" when she felt the damp patch in your panties. You laughed with a tinge of embarrassment.

"Please, Ellie." You sounded so desperate, Ellie quickly leaned up to plant a kiss on your lips. This one was much more confident, more sloppy and hungry than the first. She took your tongue into her mouth, giving it a hard suck which made you buck up into her hand, trying to get her to just fuck you.

"Patience, mkay?" She said softly as she pulled away, a shaky exhale leaving her mouth at the sight of the string of saliva the kiss had pulled from the two of you.

You nodded even though you weren't the most patient person. Ellie kept you at bay by rubbing at your clit with the pad of her finger, swirling moisture around the soft bud. You made one of the most heavenly sounds Ellie had ever heard, your eyes fluttering shut as she touched you. For the first time, someone actually focused on you. She struggled to pull your shirt off with just hand but you helped her out and soon, your bra was quickly unclasped. Ellie continued to rub at your clit as much as she could through your jeans, but she eventually gave up and pulled her hand out of your jeans, eliciting a cute whine from you.

"Off, please?" She requested, her voice so sweet and yet so demanding. Now that she knew you wanted her, she wasn't playing around. You nodded eagerly and lifted your hips as much as possible to pull your jeans and panties over your hips. Soon, you were left naked on the blanket. Ellie sat up to strip off her own clothes and you admired the sight.

Something about watching the girl strip, her pale skin coming into view in contrast to the stars above the two of you, it was perfection. Her body was slim and she was lean but had muscle on her. There they were, those perfect biceps..you couldn't help but sit up with her to plant kisses on them which soon turned into hungry little bites.

She let out a shaky laugh at your biting and joked with you, even in the heat of the moment. "You're gonna take a bite outta my arm, jesus."

You ignored her teasing and instead moved your lips to her pointy tits, smiling slightly as she shuddered. You found her weak spots. You dragged your tongue over both of her tits, feeling her nipples harden against your touch. She was getting impatient now. She pulled you closer so you were sitting with your legs tangled together, moving to slot herself between your legs. You let out countless desperate pleas as her wet cunt came into contact with yours.

You couldn't help but buck your hips into her no matter how much she tried to stabilize you, both of your moans filling the field. Her cunt was so wet against yours and you could feel her clit and lips both rub up and down all over your own clit. The stimulation felt so good but it had you desperate in ways your body knew, your whines getting louder when Ellie would lean in for wet, lazy kisses and trail her lips all over your neck, hands snaking around to squeeze your ass.

"Fuck, Els. Please, I'm gonna cum..I want you, please.." You pleaded with her, your orgasm building up inside you. This would be the first time you actually came from another person's actions.

"Cum with me, mkay? Cmon baby, you can cum for me.."

You'd never heard Ellie speak so filthy before. Sure, she had a sailor's mouth. She'd swear and curse even on her death bed. But just hearing her beg you to cum, it really sent sparks down into your pussy.

You frantically ground against her pussy, words coming out probably incoherent to Ellie's ears. "Fuck, I'm cummin', I love you Els.."

Your orgasm hit you like fireworks, all of the butterflies you'd felt for Ellie over the months released into intense bliss. She came with you, your juices mixing together, wetness coating both of your thighs.

The two of you spent the next few minutes catching your breaths, a comfortable silence exchanged. You were collapsed against her, arms around her as she held you close. She was so warm, and it was now a comfort more than a turn-on.

Soon, she spoke up in a soft, quiet murmur just for you.

"I love you too, by the way.."

[drchucktingle]

my masks

hey there buckaroos. due to all of the attention the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION situation has gotten i am going to take a minute to talk about my personal way as an autistic buckaroo. im going to tell you about my masks.

im doing this for a few reasons, some are good FUN reasons full of love and some are not so great. 

lets start with the GOOD STUFF. first of all, i am talking about this because speaking on my way can help other buckaroo feel more comfortable speaking on there own way, ESPECIALLY if they are good at ‘passing’ for neurotypical like chuck is. 

unfortunately the NOT SO GREAT reasons im talking about all this dang stuff are two fold. reason one: i have been put into a position of having to explain and justify my needs and boundaries by the TXLA. this is not something that i WANT to be taking up all of my time, but when large organizations do not make space for those who they have pledged to support, it puts us smaller buckaroos into position where were have to defend our existence. it is not plesent but it is necessary.

the second NOT SO GREAT reason is that ‘passing’ bisexual and autistic people like myself are ALWAYS just seconds from being gatekept from folks both outside and inside these communities. there will probably be a day on chucks deathbed where i take off my mask and say hello to this timeline (mostly so you can all see how handsome i am under here but I DIGRESS). i KNOW with absolute certainty (the same way other bi and autistic buckaroos are probably nodding along right now) that when that day comes i will STILL be accused of ‘not being real’ and ‘faking’ because i ‘dont look autistic’ and i have a beautiful ladybuck partner in sweet barbara.

ALL THAT IS TO SAY, i am taking a moment today to talk FOR THE RECORD about my neurodigence and my particular needs. hopefully i will not have to keep diving this deep every time an organization takes a discrimantory action against me, but i will also say this: at least it is a good fight on an important battlefield

anyway buds, here is the story of my way on the spectrum

when i was a young buckaroo i knew that my thought process was different. i could socialize easily, which is unique in contrast to many autistic buds (it is a spectrum after all), but my social ease was for an interesting reason. I ALWAYS KNEW WHAT OTHERS WERE ABOUT TO SAY. it was like a strange ‘human game’ where someone would say one thing and i would think ‘well you actually mean something else’ in a sort of logical way (this is why i later related to DATA from star trek so dang much). at first i remember thinking ‘well i am just NOT going to play along with this human game’. i quickly learned neurotypical buckaroos do not like this, that there is a BOB AND WEAVE to social interactions that must be learned. 

later i realized ‘actually if i WANT to make friends and prove love is real then i can do this like an expert because i can SEE the game where most cant’. this got chuck many buds and took me on many adventures. please understand, i am not saying these connections are not important to me, they are just different. they are full of love, but i express this in my own unique way.

HOWEVER, while growing up i felt disconnected from this timeline in other ways, like an alien or a reverse twin trotting along in a world that is not quite my own. i did not feel emotions the same way my buds did. they would get upset over the ‘human game’ interactions and i would not be moved at all, HOWEVER i could see the way sunlight hit a window and start crying my dang eyes out over the beauty. so my emotion was still there and VERY STRONG, i just felt it in more existential ways (like hearing the call of the lonesome train). these days that feeling has progressed to where i am pretty much in a constant blissed out state of cosmic emotional connection (make of that last sentence what you will, but it is the truth). when i make existential posts online i am not just FIRING OFF SOME CONTENT, i really mean every word. this is really my trot.

anyway as a young buckaroo these feelings made me worry sometimes. i thought about various mental health dianosises and marked the parts and pieces that matched with myself. am i this? am i that? sometimes, instead of just being’ different’ i worried i might actually be ‘wrong’. 

when i saw david byrne on letterman in my younger days i immediately recognized something connected to myself. i thought ‘wow this is the mystery being solved before my very eyes.’ i could hear it in the music of talking heads too. i started doing research and realized that i might be on autism spectrum, something that was later confirmed by a therapist (back then the diagnosis was called asperger's). it was a glorious and fulfilling moment. i was SO EXCITED TO BE AUTISTIC LIKE MY HERO. i felt very cool because of it, and i still feel very cool because of it.

one of the big reasons i talk so much about being autistic these days is because i want to make sure OTHER buckaroos can have that same moment that i did. they can see chuck and think ‘wow i really like this autistic artist, maybe being autistic is cool’

so what does an average day WITHOUT wearing the pink bag look like for me?

my thought process is exactly like ROSE from CAMP DAMASCUS, which is part of why i wrote the book. we have the same stim (complex order of finger taps), we prepare for social interactions the same way, we analyze things in the same logical trot that neurotypical people might think feels ‘detached’ but for me feels natural (certain reviews of camp damascus are very funny to me in this way. you can tell when a reader is just very confused by existing in an autistic brain for 250 pages.)

from the outside you would not be able to tell that i am on the spectrum. in fact you would probably find me very socially adept. 

the problem is, all of that masking can take its toll. i spent years trotting in and out the emergency room, talking to confused doctors who could not figure out the chronic phantom tension and pain that radiated through my body. i eventually accepted the fact that i would either live a life constantly on heavy painkillers or just stop living altogether.

eventually, however, i started noticing a correlation between the way that i felt, and the space that i allowed for chuck and the pink mask. i was exercising that tension, allowing my mental mask of neurotypical existence to take a rest. i started practicing physical therapy and this time THE RESULTS STUCK because i was approaching from two sides, MIND AND BODY. after a while, i got my pain down to about 5 percent of what it once was. i still have flare ups in times of stress, but the healing has been very real and life changing.

lets get VERY specific now. if i attended the TXLA confrence without a mask and gave my talk i can tell you this: i would do a dang good job. i can work the heck out of a crowd and (not to reveal too much about my secret way) I HAVE BEEN KNOWN TO DO THIS ON OCCASION VERY WELL. however, going home from this event i would very likely be in pain. i would likely need to do physical therapy. i would likely need to stim for a while. i would NOT be emotionally fullfilled in the same way. in other words, without my pink mask i can charm the heck out of buckaroos, but THE SPACE OF CHUCK TINGLE IS NOT THE SPACE FOR THAT. the pink bag is a place for me to not have to put up with that tension. it is a place for me to unmask mentally by masking physically.

this pink bag space SAVED MY LIFE and i am not going to risk blurring these lines. if and when that ever happens it will be MY decision, not someone elses. that is my boundary. the part of me that neurotypically masks could handle a library conference in a purely technical sense, but the part of me that chuck represents absolutely cannot and should not be asked to do that without the pink bag. unfortunately, the complexity of this point makes it even MORE difficult for me to think about and takes up even more of my time, because it forces me to START QUESTIONING MYSELF and my own needs. to be honest, that is the most insidious part of other people questioning your identify and refusing to accept your accommodation needs without ‘proof’.

the thing is, while all of this discussion of disability and accessibility is important, i have a much larger point to make by writing these words.

a conference should not uninvite someone with an unusual physical presentation or a strange way of speaking REGARDLESS of it being classified as a disability. it does not matter WHY i look the way that i look and wear what i wear. i should not have to spend all day writing this post instead of writing my next book, just because my sensibilities are unique and my presentation is unusual. 

fortunately the solution is very simple: let other people be themselves. its not hurting you to simply accept and nod at the buckaroos you think look strange. let us exist

[cravingrickgrimes]

CHAPTER ONE | ❝IN THE DIM LIGHT❞

rick!grimes x male!reader (smut) top!rick x bottom!reader

multi chapters / not finished word count: 1018

summary: You were relatively new to the prison. You had the same story as most of these folks here—no family, and alone. On your fifth day here you got your first work assignment. You manage to get paired up for field duty on the prison… in the blistering heat. It wasn’t until a few minutes in the heat that your work-assigned partner finally arrives…Rick Grimes.

CHAPTER TWO ->

CHAPTER ONE:

The mid-summer heat was dreadful. Far worse, in fact. It was terrible enough that you were assigned field duty today, even worse when you realised you were going to have to do most of the work by yourself. You realised quickly that the jacket sticking to your back would be no help so you escaped it before it could do you anymore discomfort. You assumed the partner you were assigned with had just never gotten out of bed. That is, until you saw him walking right toward you. His hips jutted out gracefully from his sides as he grinned slightly. As he exited the prisons shadows he placed a hand on his already sweaty forehead, eyes trying desperately to hide from the sun. He was stunning, and you don’t even think that was half of what he was.

“Hiya.” He smiled. “Rick” He stared at you for those few seconds before he corrected himself with a chuckle accompanying it. “I’m Rick Grimes.” You fought your teeth to stop them from biting their lips at his southern drawl. It was the most attractive thing you’d ever heard that’s for sure.

“Hi.” You gave him the tightest smile possible and took a sip of your water.

“Hot isn’t it. This shirt won’t do any good today.” His strong hands clicked each button undone. You couldn’t help but gaze at the way his veiny hands undid each button on his shirt. Was he trying to get you wet? It was surely working. “Sorry ‘bout that.” His shirt was off. He was sweating. His shirt was off, and he was close to you.

Too close.

He looked as if carved by gods. His pecs were like plates of the finest armour. And not to mention the sharp defined abs that were riddled on his chest. Small dark-brown hairs were sprinkled on his chest. As if to hook you even more a trail of hair went from his bellybutton to…

Oh God. You thought. This day is going to truly be hell.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It had been two hours now. An hour of being remotely near Rick Grimes would have any person completely on their knees. But two? You were struggling not to strip right here and now. The weeds surrounding clothe prisons walls were almost done. The both of you agreed to start on opposite ends and make your way to each other. You agreed, drunk on the way his body shone in the sun.

Now you and Rick were almost done, he was quite literally almost touching you. You pulled on the weed aggressively. It was to no avail. You pulled and tugged, but nothing. “Y’kay?” His southern accent was thick, but you took that to mean “you okay?”.

“Yeah, fine, just—a strong weed!”

“Ah, let me help darlin’” Not helping! You almost shouted. He moved behind you and grabbed the weed whilst your hands were still clasped around the stubborn thing. You were trapped under his strong grasp. Trapped under him. Trapped and smelling him. He pulled but it didn’t budge. You both moved with the tug and it looked and felt too much like a thrust. Your face flushed quicker than you could stop it. As inconveniently as it was you suddenly remembered him calling you darlin’ and you would give anything for him to say it again.

“Sorry ‘bout this.” He chuckled nervously. So he did know how awkward this was? He came off so confident you would have never guessed. He may not be as confident as you first thought, but he is as compelling. Your eyes followed his arm muscles as they tensed under the strain. He pulled again but nothing happened. Rick leaned back and thrusted into you to try and get a better grip. You stifled your moan. No. You forced your mind to be clear. Rick Grimes is not fucking you. All he’s doing is helping you out. That’s all. You could have sworn you felt something hard and stiff at your backside but he pulled the weed out before you could feel it again. He waved a hand of apology.

“You weren’t lying,” He ran a hand through his soaking hair and you noticed that every part of him was sweating. “really was strong.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You sat in bed that very night with only one thought on your mind. How was Rick Grimes’ pace in bed? It wasn’t the most appropriate thought but those thrusts were…thought provoking… to say the least. The prison was quiet that night, as if even the prison was trying to get you to do what you wanted. And all you wanted was to touch yourself. To touch yourself and think of Rick Grimes every time you slide your hand up and down your cock.

You did just that.

You didn’t need to get hard, you already had been the moment you saw Rick take his shirt off. Maybe even before that if you were being honest. It felt fucking amazing. You stroked your length once thinking only of his chiselled body. The second time his thrusts. The third his scent. You almost kept to that cycle of those three things until you got to the topic of his cock in your mind.

You spat on your hand and kept stroking. This was getting good. You imagined a six inch cock—modest, considering the large lump you felt between his legs earlier that day was just that…large. You thought of a thick foreskin covering almost all of his head. You could almost physically see the amount of veins crawling up from the base of his cock to right before the head. You could see yourself sucking and worshipping the man’s dick.

You knew all too well that you would if you had the chance. You prayed that it tasted just like he had smelt in that blistering heat, like a man.

Your cock pulsed quicker in your hands now. You imagined you were giving Rick a handjob. God it was the best thing you could have done. You squirmed against your pillow whilst you released your hot cum onto your chest.

[holylulusworld]

Lumberjack Tales - The Hairy Bear

Summary: He doesn’t want to have company.

Pairing: Lumberjack!Ari Levinson x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, spanking, orgasm denial, possessive Ari, a hint of dark/grey Ari?

Rating: Explicit

Square filled for @julybreakbingo: Square filled: "Park"

Square filled for @eclipsingbingo: Held down

This story is part of my Lumberjack Tales masterlist

Solitude. No people. No stress. No noises. That’s how he likes it, and he wouldn’t want to change it for anything.

He chose this life. After selling his company for more money than he could ever spend, Ari bought a forest to build a huge, luxurious cabin for himself alone. He’s got everything he needs. And what he doesn’t get, he can make with his strong hands.

Some people may call him crazy. A former CEO and successful businessman turning into a lumberjack building his furniture on free terms. Ari doesn’t care. He gives a shit on other people’s opinion.

Today is one of the rare days he must drive to the only town near his private forest. Ari hates leaving his solitude and meeting people. After a bad divorce, he’s not the most social person.

But – a man gotta eat even if he’s got a beautiful garden behind his cabin and a lake filled with fish. He needs more to fill his pantry. Beer, toilet paper, and batteries do not grow on trees.

“Mr. Levinson,” Susie, the clerk from the grocery store chirps when Ari walks toward the checkout. “Is that all?” She glances at the two shopping carts filled with everything he’ll need over the next weeks. Maybe even a month, or two. “Plastic or paper?”

“Paper,” he grumbles under his breath. “Plastic is bad for the environment.” Ari shakes his head at his words. Years ago, he would’ve given a shit on the environment or nature. He was obsessed with making money, a pretty woman, and fast cars.

“Sure,” she gives him a tight smile but says nothing. “Just a minute.” She snaps her fingers at the new bag boy. “Sean, get over here. We have a customer.”

Ari would like to roll his eyes as the boy groans loudly. He was on his phone, undoubtedly making a TikTok video to share with his two followers instead of doing his job.

“SEAN!” She grunts when he doesn’t move an inch. “If you don’t come here in a second, you are fired.”

“Man, if I made my first million with my video, I’ll quit,” Sean grumbles while reluctantly starting to pack Ari’s groceries into paper bags. “You will see. I’ll get out of this shitty town in no time.”

Ari holds back a comment. He learned that it’s better to shut your mouth and not get involved with the town’s folk. Unlike the cheery clerk at the grocery store, most people in this sleepy little town do not like him.

Especially because he stopped them from clearing the forest he bought. “Cash or card?”

“Card,” Ari swipes his card over the device. “Have a good day.”

Before Sean can grab the bags to carry them outside, Ari wraps his arms around the paper bags to carry them out of the store.

“Idiot!” Susie mutters. “You had to piss him off. Now he won’t come back anytime soon.”

Sean harrumphs. “This is the only store in town. Your love interest will be back. This doesn’t mean he wants to take you out…”

Back in his cabin Ari busies himself putting the groceries and toiletries away. Only to make a list for more. Soon it will be winter, and he needs more supplies. Ari hates driving to town during winter. He tries to leave his cabin less during the cold times.

His dog lies on the carpet in front of the fireplace in the living room, yawning loudly as his owner tells him they’ll need more wood.

“Come, buddy. We go for one last round for tonight,” Ari clicks his tongue, causing his dog to jump up and follow him toward the door. The Estrela Mountain Dog walks next to Ari as he steps out of the cabin.

Ari closes his eyes and inhales the air deeply. He can already smell the approaching thunderstorm. “We need to hurry, buddy. I know how much you hate getting your fur wet.”

He flashes his dog a smile before buttoning up his red-black checkered plaid. “Let’s go, Bear. We don’t wanna miss dinner.”

“HEY! STOP! This is private property!”

You are already out of breath when the man and his dog chase after you. All you wanted was to go for a swim in the lake. How should you have known that the forest is private property? You camped in forests all your life without getting into trouble.

Now this big guy is chasing after you like a madman. “STOP! You cannot come to my property and steal…”

“Bear. Get them!” The man calls for his dog. The giant beast speeds up to outrun you. It jumps at you. Pushing against your back so you land on the ground, face first in the mud. Rain is pouring down on you, soaking your shorts and shirt. “Good job!”

The dog sits down on your back, making you groan loudly. “Get off me you beast.”

“Hold them down,” the man approaches you and the dog. He crouches down next to you to rip your baseball cap off your head. “What are you doing on my property?"

“I wanted to go for a swim, dude! I camp not far away from the lake. I didn’t know this was private property! Who buys a fucking forest!! That’s just wrong.”

“Dude?” He laughs. “Bear, we caught an angry wood nymph, not an intruder.” The man clicks his tongue, and the beast finally gets off your back. “There are warning signs, lady.”

“I told you,” You struggle to get on your knees, groaning as your back hurts from the dog’s attack, “I didn’t see a sign. I camp wherever I want to.”

“Not on my property,” he snaps at you as he gets back up. “Come on, the thunderstorm will only get worse.” He holds out his hand as you struggle to get back on your feet. The dog got you good. “I’ll show you the way back to the road.”

“Fucker,” you slap his hand away and get back up on your feet without his help. “You can’t let your dog attack people.”

“You are an intruder, and he tried to defend my property.”

“Dude, do I look like a danger to you, your dog, or your property?” You size the man up. He quirks a brow. “That’s what I thought.” While you try to rub the dirt from your knees and shin, the man huffs.

“You walk around my property with your little backpack and believe you get away with it? Lady, this is not a park. You can’t just come here and waltz around my property like you own it.”

“I got it, okay. This is your forest, and you hate people,” you wrinkle your nose as the rain runs down your face. “If you’d excuse me now. I’ll find my way out of your forest and into the next to put up my tent somewhere else.”

“In the middle of a thunderstorm?” He asks. “You’re not only a criminal but crazy too. You’ll get yourself killed.”

“Well, good thing that I’m not your problem, Mr. Property,” you turn around to walk opposite the way you came from. “Have a nice life.”

“Lady, that’s crazy,” despite his former behavior, he follows you. “The rain is going to get worse. You’re going to catch a cold or worse.”

“Anything is better than being around you,” you side-eye the man. If he gets too close, you’ll get your pepper spray out and show him what happens when he messes with you.

“Wait…wait up,” he grabs your arm to stop you from running off.

“Don’t touch me,” you try to wiggle out of his grasp. “I’m warning you! I got the black belt!”

He releases you but blocks your path. “I won’t hurt you, lady. My name is Ari, this is Bear.” Ari points at his dog. “He didn’t want to hurt you. If Bear wanted to hurt you, you’d be dog food.”

“You have a way with words, huh?” You look him up and down. “So…where is this street?”

“We can’t walk through the forest now,” he sighs and points toward something in the distance. “If you don’t want to walk through a forest in the middle of one of the worst thunderstorms this area ever experienced, you should come with me to my cabin.”

“Right,” you curl your upper lip. “I’ll go with you to your cabin so you can make a filet out of my ass. I won’t go anywhere with you.”

Ari snorts. He starts laughing as you watch him. “I don’t want to eat you, lady,” he grins. “I mean, I love to eat a lady out.” His eyes drop to your soaked shorts, “but only if she begs me.”

You look down at your soaked clothes. Your backpack gets heavier per minute and Ari is right, the rain is mercilessly pouring down on you. “I’ll take a picture and send it to my friend with our position and your name.”

“Be my guest,” Ari poses for you. He grins into the camera when you snap a few pictures to send them to your friend. “What about Bear?”

“Fine,” you snap a few pictures of the dog to send them to your friend too. “If you kill me now, you’ll get hunted down by my friends.”

“I won’t take the risk,” Ari winks at you. “Come on. I want to get out of my wet clothes and have some coffee.”

You begrudgingly follow Ari, hoping he’s not a psycho killer or looking for a basement wife…

“See, I’m not a killer,” Ari hands you another cup of tea. “After the storm calmed, I’ll drive you to town. You shouldn’t camp in the only other forest around here.”

“Why?” you take a sip before looking at him. You cannot deny that he’s not as bad as you believed he was. Ari offered sweatpants and one of his plaids to you. He shared his dinner with you and brewed tea for you.

“Let’s say the men around here a rather…hmm…how do I put it…”

“Assholes?”

“I think that sums it up,” Ari sits on the other side of the couch to give you space. After the first minutes he knew, you’re not a bad person and now he tries to make you see, that he’s not a bad guy either.

“Hmm…crap,” you sigh deeply. “I wanted to do something reckless for once and now, my friend will laugh about me.”

“You never camped before, right?” He watches you drop your gaze. “Why did you lie?”

“My friends bragged about their adventure trips, and I only ever soaked in the sun or visited museums during holidays. I bought a tent and…you know the rest.”

Ari snorts. “You’re the worst camper I ever met.”

“Fair,” you shrug and giggle as his eyes drop to your legs. He subconsciously licks his lips and shifts in his seat. “So…” you scoot a little closer to Ari, “how long are you living here…alone?”

“Hmm…?” He lifts his eyes from your legs to meet your eyes. “A few years.” Ari murmurs. “I left my old life behind to live here, on my own.”

“Must’ve been a good life,” you scoot even closer to look Ari in the eyes. “This is not a normal cabin. It’s rather…luxurious.”

Ari drops his eyes to your lips, licking his own. “I was a businessman before becoming a lumberjack.”

“Lumberjack,” you purr the word. “You mean the big guys wearing plaids and cutting wood.” This time, you lick your lips. “You must be very strong if you cut wood all day.”

“Not all day, sweetness,” Ari scoots a little closer, his thigh brushing yours. “Only if I need wood for my fireplace.”

“Hmm…” you get bold and move your hand to his bicep, squeezing hard. “Very strong.”

“Strong enough to throw you around if you come to my property and try to swim in my lake,” he moves his hand to your thigh, toying with the sweatpants you’re wearing. “I can spank you too, to make sure you’ll never break into anyone’s property again.”

Your eyelashes flutter, and your lips part. “You think I’d let you spank me for breaking into your property?”

His cheeks dimple. Ari dips his head as his hand creeps higher until he can press it flat against your mound. “I think you’d let me do anything I want to do to you.”

“Look at you,” he purrs in your ear. “Such a good girl, kneeling for me. I bet,” Ari circles you to watch you kneel in front of his couch. He pushes against your shoulders, forcing you to bend your upper half over the couch. “Hmm…what a nice ass you have.”

Ari cups the back of your neck to hold you down on the couch. He’s not too rough but makes sure you can feel his strength.

“I’d love to just fuck you, but you’d only cum all over my cock. I need you to feel the consequences of your actions in your bones.” Ari runs his free hand over your ass, humming as you start to whimper. He grips one cheek roughly, testing your reaction. “I’ll use this body to my liking, and you won’t deny me.”

You choke out a moan when the first smack hits your ass. “Yes…”

“Count, little tramp,” his features harden, and he smacks your cheek a little harder this time.

“One.”

“Again,” he slaps your other cheek, making it sting. “Again!”

“Two.”

“How many can you take?” It’s not a question. Ari told you he’ll give you ten, and you’ll take ten with pleasure if you get his glorious cock in return. You’re already soaking wet and cannot deny that the next smack pushes you closer to the edge.

“All you have to give, sir,” you whimper. “Three…”

“Good girl,” he soothingly runs his hand over your stinging cheeks. “Seven more and you’ll get something nice.”

The next smacks come faster and harder. “Four, five, six, seven,” at eight you’re out of breath and cry out in pleasured pain.

“Eight, nine,” he slaps your ass with both hands. “And lastly,” he slams his hand between your legs, hitting your clit. Your legs tremble and you soak his hand with your cum.

“Oh God…” You can’t come down from your unexpected high. Ari grabs you by the back of your neck to push you onto the couch.

You end up underneath him, whimpering as he moves one hand to your crotch to lift your butt to help him sink into you. He pokes your entrance, impatiently pushing the first inches into your weeping hole.

“Fuck, that’s a wet cunt,” he groans in your ear while conquering your cunt with one hard thrust. “Yeah, you’re a good girl.”

Pressed into the furniture by his hard body you can’t do anything but lie there and let him slowly fuck into you. Your juices soak his cock, and his balls with every deep thrust.

Ari is by all means not gentle. He fucks you for punishment, to make sure your body knows you did a bad thing. “Oh, baby. I lied,” he whispers in your ear after a particularly deep thrust. “I’m going to keep you here for my pleasure.” He thrusts three, or four more times, always avoiding hitting your G-spot.

Ari purrs your name and fills your cunt seconds later. “Aw, don’t whine, baby,” he sinks his teeth in your neck to leave another mark on your body. “This was punishment. You’ll cum when I allow you to cum.”

He groans against your neck, teeth grazing over one of the marks he left. Ari is a man possessed. After he filled you for the first time, he took his time to rub cream into your ass. He toyed with you, fingers and tongue bringing you to the edge, only to not let you cum again.

With your hands restrained to the bedpost, you can only watch him move on top of you. Your hands itch to touch him, but you haven’t earned it yet. You’ve been a bad girl, and he won’t allow you to get more than he’s willing to give.

Ari slowly thrusts into you, thick cock rubbing against your walls. “I want you to cum for me. Come on, little tramp, soak my cock. I want to fill this slutty hole up.”

“Please—” you eagerly meet his thrusts. “I need…please…Sir…A-R-I…” You shudder through your high. Your whole body sizes up and for a moment, you fear you died and ended up in heaven. This is the most intense orgasm you ever experienced, and it takes your breath away.

“Good…” Ari thrusts one last time and stills his hips. His warmth fills you again, and you wonder how many times he already fucked you before he let you come. “Good girl. So, fucking good for me.”

He collapses on top of you, exhausted and satisfied. “Fuck…” you breathe out. “Fuck…fuck…that was…”

“Damn, this cunt feels so good. I’m glad you’re a criminal wanting to break into my property. I didn’t have such a good fuck in years…”

“Well…I got two more weeks off so…” you wiggle your hips, making Ari groan. “I could just invade your property for a little longer and you can punish me again.”

Ari lifts his head to look at you underneath him. He smirks, liking your idea. While you look up at him, mirroring his smirk Ari plans to keep you forever…

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[spotsspeciall]

Factory meetings - LN4

vol. 2

Lando Norris x fem!reader

summary: Lando makes a move to Red Bull for 2024 and you work in the Red Bull factory. You meet him, and he’s a dick. But something inside you, needs him. 

Notes: Shoutout to @f1goat and the “His teammate” series, for the inspiration!!  Fair warning, I'm talking alittle shit about McLaren, but I am a McLaren girly and It’s all lies, I mean nothing by it! I also made up some gibberish about the car, since I don’t know how everything really works haha. This was also longer than I expected, but I can honestly say I'm pretty proud of it.

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. smut, unprotected (wrap it before you tap it folks!) p in v, pet names, language.

word count: 7.3k

masterlist

You had been working at the Red Bull factory in Milton Keynes for 2 years. After getting your degree in mechanical engineering, you grabbed the first opening in Red Bull. And now you had built your way up to your current position. 

You were sitting on the chair, staring at the little metal pieces in front of you. Trying to figure out the best way to puzzle them together, and make the most out of the car.

Your job was to plan, and build components in the car. And when you gained your current position at the factory, you helped with the success of the RB19. 

Working in the factory, you rarely met the drivers. They were here a lot for the simulator and meetings, but your paths rarely crossed. You didn’t need to have contact with the drivers, so you didn’t. Only seeing them from afar, when the whole factory came together for a meeting.

Monday morning, just over a week since the last race in Abu-dhabi, the RB19 had been a huge success. And you were working hard to finish the last details on the RB20 before the new season, working even harder than you did on the RB19. Trying to make the RB20 even better, as impossible as that sounds. 

You had a goodbye party for Checo on Friday, as he was retiring. And Christian Horner had announced that Lando Norris was taking his seat.

You had never met Lando, only seen him when you watched the races. And from what you had heard about him, he was kind of a dick. 

You and the other women working for Red Bull had formed a strong bond, you and the Red Bull media girl, Sophie, were basically best friends. And since she was on the track every race weekend, she had some encounters with Lando. 

She said he was constantly grumpy. He only cared about racing, and the fact that he hadn’t had a win yet, already being in McLaren for 5 years, it started taking a toll on him. 

He used to be a kind and sweet person. Loving to chat to people, and loving the interaction with his fans. He was just an all around loving guy. But when his fist win never came, and 

The McLaren car never got faster. He turned mean and angry, and stopped caring about anything other than racing. And when Christian gave him a nice offer to fill Checo’s seat, he jumped on it, no hesitation. 

You picked up your tools and started assembling the pieces again, to see if your mind had any ideas. 

You had your normal shitty Monday morning, and you didn’t have time to properly get ready. So you were sitting here in the Red Bull work clothes, your hair was up, but it had fallen out of your bun and was falling in your face, and you kept trying to pull it behind your ears. You didn’t have time for either makeup or to put your contacts in, so it was glasses today. But it wasn’t that bad, everyone saw you like this every Monday (and most other days too)

But what you didn’t know was that Lando was visiting the Factory today. To have a tour of the factory, and meet everyone working there. You didn’t hear the door open as you were staring a whole into the piece you just assembled. But you did hear your name being called. 

You turned around and met the eyes of Christian, but your eyes quickly looked over at the man standing beside him. You hurried to stand up and rip the gloves off your hands. Stretching out your hand to shake his. It seemed like he hesitated for a bit before shaking it, staring into your eyes the whole time. 

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you”

“Lando”

Yeah, he seemed pretty grumpy. 

As you pulled your hand away, Christian started explaining who you were, and what your job was. You didn’t know if Lando was even listening because he was still just staring at you. 

Christian then turned to you and asked you how the work was going. 

“Oh yeah!” You were blocking their view of the piece, so you turned to walk around the table to show them. 

You started explaining what the piece was and what your goal for it was, as you put on a new pair of gloves to show them the piece. 

Putting it back down, Lando looked back at you. A small smile had made its way to his lips. 

“Is that going in my car?”

“Well yeah, it’s going in both cars”

“But, I’ll only drive the car if you’re the one working on it” He was now smirking at you and turned to Christian. “I’m serious” His smirk was gone.

“Don’t worry Lando, I’ll make sure of it” He said with a smile as he patted his shoulder. “We should move on to look at the paint booths” 

As they headed towards the door, Lando turned around before he left. His face was unreadable, and he had a look in his eyes you had never seen. You had never been more confused, and it took you a while to get back into the right headspace for you to finally crack the code.

There were only a few days left before Christmas break, and you hadn’t seen Lando since that first time. 

Today had been a stressful day as you tried to do as much as you could in the little time you had left. You were standing in front of the computer, looking at the readings from a recent test, and there were a few numbers off. The frustration got to you, and you pulled off your glasses, rubbing the bride of your nose. Before you shoved the keyboard away and buried your face in your arms on the desk as you groaned in frustration. 

Lando had one last visit to the simulator before break. And before he left for the day, he decided to see if you were there. He was mesmerized by you when he first saw you. Your hair was falling in your face, and the glasses framed your face perfectly. He noticed that you had no makeup on, but you were absolutely breathtaking. And when you started talking about your work, he saw the passion in your eyes. He felt a small pull in his chest, and felt like his old happy self for just a moment when he looked at you. 

But it quickly disappeared, and he realized his new mission. He needed to have you. 

When he opened the door, he heard a groan as he saw your face land in your arms on the desk. The desk was quite high, and as you were bent over it, your ass was on display for him. 

He had to fight himself to not go right over and touch you. But he still walked over and leaned on the desk beside you.

“Something wrong baby?”

You quickly looked up, shocked that someone was in the room with you, and why were they calling you “baby”?

When you met Lando’s eyes, you rolled your own. You had already made up your mind about him, and you were not surprised he was acting like this. 

You heard a low chuckle coming from him as he saw you rolling your eyes. 

You leaned closer to him, really close. He could feel your breath.

“Don’t call me baby”

You could see he was a little shocked at the closeness, so you smirked to yourself and stretched your hand out to grab your glasses that had landed beside him. 

Leaning back, you put your glasses on. “And if you must know, I didn’t get the result I wanted” 

You pointed to the numbers on the screen. His mouth was slightly open as he still looked a little shocked, but he turned his head to look at the numbers. 

“I don’t know what any of the numbers mean” He turned to look at you.

You laughed before replying “Yeah, I know” 

After closing your front door and throwing yourself on the couch. You pulled up your phone and sent a text to your best friend Sophie. 

“Lando came by the Factory today and called me baby…”

She answered right away.

"BRO!"

“No way!”

“He’s probably trying to get in your pants”

“WHAT?”

“NO HE IS NOT”

“He’s probably just trying to get a reaction out of me”

“Why would he want to get in my pants when he has models drooling over him?”

“Stop it Y/N”

“You are literally drop dead gorgeous.”

“Lando wishes he could get you! But don’t let him use you like that!”

“hahahaha”

“You’re the best Sophie”

“But yeah, he will not be getting anywhere near these sexy pants!”

“YEAHHHH GIRL”

“go piss girl”

“hahaha”

Closing your phone, you laughed to yourself. And when you laid down in bed, and closed your eyes. You couldn’t help when your sleepy brain started thinking about him. 

You looked down. Seeing your naked body, tits jumping at the movement you were making. You saw your hands spread out on the lower abdomen of the man under you. You saw his hands groping your thighs, hips, tits. And when one of his hands traveled up to grab your jaw, you met his eyes. Lando. 

Waking up, you sat up in bed, hand flying to your jaw.

As your breathing calmed down, you realized the dream. Running the images through your head over and over again. And that's when you noticed just how turned on you were. Your panties totally soaked, and you felt hot.

Landing back in bed you groaned.

“Fuck you brain. That was so fucked up”

You rubbed your hands over your face before getting out of bed. Just a few more days of work before break. 

Your brain had sneaked in thoughts about Lando all through the break, much to your dismay. And he always showed up when you were close to an orgasm by your own hand. And one time, his name slipped out in a whisper. But you would try to deny yourself that it ever happened. 

And when it was time to go back to work, you felt like it had been long enough for you to forget everything, just praying you didn’t have to see him for a while.

And you were lucky for once. The end of January was nearing, and you had yet to see him. But you knew it was not long before you would.

The start of February was when the car was launching. And you had worked your ass off to finish the last bits, and the tests and readings were good, great even. 

There would be a reveal of the finished car in the factory, for all employees, before it was going to be a public launch. And you knew reveal day meant Lando. But you would be fine, all of the employees would be there, no way you would have any contact with him. 

And when the day finally arrived you were excited. The RB20 was going to be revealed, a car you helped make, and that was all you could focus on. 

You and Sophie were standing together up at the front of the crowd, looking at the car covered in a protective sheet. Christian got up beside the car and started his speech, and then he reached the moment where he introduced the two drivers for the team. Max Verstappen, the reigning world champion, and the new Lando Norris.

As he walked up beside the car, he was dressed in the Red Bull racing suit, and you couldn’t help but admire him in it. It wasn’t wrong to think the man looked good, incredibly good. You knew he was still an asshole, but you did have eyes. 

Max had his speech, and then it was Lando’s turn. It was a good speech, talking about how he was ready for something new, a more competitive car. He then started thanking the people working on the car, and he locked eyes with you, and held it until he was finished speaking. 

Lando and Max then lifted the sheet off the car to reveal it. And the crowd started clapping. You marveled at the car for a minute, feeling proud. But you felt his eyes on you. So you looked back at him, and you saw that stupid smirk on his face, he then had the audacity to give you a wink. You rolled your eyes at him, and when you looked back at him, he had a genuine smile on his face, and a glint in his eyes. And for just a moment, butterflies fluttered in your stomach, before you were interrupted with Christian speaking again.

You were standing in front of the car, looking down at it in admiration. The “party” had been moved to a different room, where food and drinks were served. And when you found a quiet moment, you slipped away to go look at the car. 

You were all alone as you squatted down to get a better look at the car, and the details of it. You couldn’t believe you had a hand in building it. This was Max’s car, with the big, red number 1 on it.

Standing back up, you felt a hand slide its way to your lower back. Shocked, you turned to look at the person beside you. Of course. Lando. 

He had that typical smirk on his face as he spoke to you in a low tone. 

“Hope you did a lot of work on my car too” “I was serious when I said I will only drive it if you have”

You rolled your eyes again, it was something he really brought out of you. 

“I have!” You put on some fake excitement in your tone. “I even put a little extra work into your car” You gave him a suggestive wink.

“Oh, so my car might be a little faster?” He said in a hushed tone, like you were sharing a secret. 

“Yeah” You nodded at him, and pointed to the car in front of you. “This is your car right?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “No, this is Max’s”

“Oh shit, guess I put it in the wrong car then” You shrugged your shoulders as you couldn’t hold your laughter anymore. 

You turned to walk away, leaving the hold he still had on your lower back. The place where his hand had been was burning hot. And when he saw you taking quick steps to get away, he hurried to follow after you. 

“Baby, that was not nice” He said with a small pout as he finally caught up with you. 

You stopped in your tracks. “I told you to stop calling me that” 

“Oh you look cute when you’re angry” His amusement was clear on his face. 

If you weren’t angry before, you sure were now. You groaned as you started walking away from him again. And before you entered the door to the party, he shouted to you.

“Can’t wait to see you again soon baby!” You could hear the grin on his face. But you just opened the door and walked inside, hoping to not see him for the rest of the night.

Just a week after, you were back at work, looking over some data on the computer, when you heard a knock at the door, and then it opened and closed. 

Turning around, you were met with Christian. “Oh hey Christian!” “Wasn't expecting you to be here!”

He smiled at you, “I am here to ask if you’re free to have a meeting in my office?”

“Right now?”

He looked down at the expensive watch around his wrist. “Yes”

“Um, yeah sure!” “I’m just going to-” You trailed off as you pressed a few buttons on the computer, before turning it off and walking towards Christian. “Shall we?”

Sitting down in the chair opposite his desk, it all started to become a little intimidating. You waited for him to speak as he looked at a few papers, before lifting his head and meeting your eyes. 

“Y/N” “First, I want to formally thank you for your work on the RB19. You made the car what it was. Great work” “And I also want to thank you for the work you’ve put into the RB20. I know it will be even better than the 19” He smiled at you, and you smiled back as you nodded, silently thanking him for his words. 

He continued, “I have been talking with Lando Norris, and after he had a test in the car, and felt how it worked. And after he also saw how you worked on it, he has asked for you to be his no.1 mechanic.” He paused, waiting for your response.

“No.1 mechanic? as in, at every race, in the garage, being the head mechanic on his car?” You were shocked, confused.

“Yes.” He gave you a warm smile. “When he suggested it, I totally agreed.” “It would be a perfect job for you, and with all the work you have put in, the least I can do for you is to give you a chance to be with the car at every race.” “So, do you want the job?”

You didn’t even think about the fact that Lando was the one to suggest the job for you. You just focused on the fact that you could be the no.1 mechanic. 

“Yes” “Yes I do.” A big smile grew on your face.

“Perfect!” Christian clapped his hands together, and picked up the papers he previously looked at. “Take the time you need to read through them before signing” 

Taking the papers in your hands, you read through it. And everything looked perfect. So you signed where you needed to. And handed the papers back to Christian. 

“Thank you so much for this opportunity!” “I can’t wait to get started” You couldn’t stop smiling.

“Good!” “Can’t wait to see you on the track”

He then told you the plan heading forwards. You had plenty of meetings coming up. You needed to know what to expect in the garage. And you had a few meetings with the people working in the garage. And after all of that was finished, you were headed to the pre-season testing in Bahrain. 

Arriving in Bahrain, you felt prepared. And you were even more happy to finally join Sophie at work, as you walked into the garage together. 

Testing had been going pretty great so far, you only needed to do a few tweaks on the car to see if the performance was different. 

On the other end, Lando had been tolerable. He had his usual flirty, teasing persona around you. But now that you worked together in a small garage, he had toned it down a bit, much to your pleasure. 

But when you got a moment alone, he always sneaked up on you and rested his hand on your lower back, called you baby, and did everything to annoy you. Much to your frustration.

You had been single for a few years. And you hadn’t slept with too many people after. But now it had been a really long time since last. Too busy at work to even care, but you were growing more and more pent up and frustrated. And this asshole resting his hand on your lower back was not helping. It was also not helping that he looked drool worthy all the time.

What was helping, was the fact that he was just that, an asshole. But you had no excuse for yourself when you were alone at night, and you just stopped caring. It made you cum fast, and you were happy with that. So you kept thinking about him every time, while whispering his name under your breath. 

It was the fourth race of the season, and you were in Japan. The previous races were good to Lando, who had gotten a podium on each one, but no win yet. But he was good in Japan, he knew this could be the one.

It was early on Thursday, and when Lando walked into the garage, he found you working on the car, alone. 

You were so focused as you lay bent over the nose of the car, trying to screw something that was in a tricky position. When Lando saw the sight of you like that, bent over, legs spread, he felt his dick twitch. 

He quickly turned his head to look around for the sign of any people, seeing no one, he walked up to you, close enough so your feet were almost touching. Looking down at you, he noticed you still didn’t know he was there, so he cleared his throat to get your attention. 

When you heard the sound, it spooked you, and you went to stand up from the compromising position you were in. But you didn’t know someone was standing right behind you. So when you lifted yourself off the car, your ass hit something, someone. You felt a pair of strong hands grab onto your hips to stabilize the both of you, as your back was now flush against his chest. When you looked down at his hands, you saw his watch and bracelets and immediately knew who it was. 

You heard a low groan coming from him, right by your ear. And you felt a bulge grow right where your ass was resting against his crotch. You panicked, and shoved yourself back to knock his balance off so he would get off you. When he did, you turned around to look at him with anger in your eyes.

“What the fuck was that Norris!?”

You didn’t even let him answer before you turned to storm out. Two reasons why. First, you were flustered and could feel your face heat up, and you did not want him to see that. Second, feeling his hands hold your waist, and the bulge grow in his pants, you were already soaked and horny beyond belief, and you did not want to be around him in a state like that. 

Lando stood there, a little shocked, and flustered. He pulled his hoodie down to try and cover up the bulge in his pants, as he headed towards his driver room.

It was time for a car check. And you were picking up the steering wheel to put it in the car. When you turned back around to go over to the car, you saw him.

Lando was standing in his seat, and you watched him lower himself into the seat, holding onto the halo with a tight grip.

You almost dropped the steering wheel in your hand, as your eyes focused on his hands. You had to literally shake your head to get back to the right headspace.

You walked over to the car, and looked down at Lando looking around the cockpit, trying to get in a comfortable position. After he found it, he looked up and his eyes met yours.

His eyes were shining from the lighting on the ceiling. And the feeling that arose was butterflies hidden by anger. Why the fuck was he so breathtaking, but also such a dick. Fuck him. 

You clenched your jaw as you kept eye contact with him. 

“You gonna hand me the steering wheel love?” There was that stupid smirk again.

You narrowed your eyes at him in anger, and handed him the wheel. He clicked it in place, and looked back up at you and told you something he wanted changed on the car. 

Luckily for you, when he started talking about the car, you went straight into work mode. Not a single thought about Lando in your brain. (Only far in the back)

He pointed to show you something that was underneath the steering wheel, right over where his legs rested. And you couldn’t see it. So you stepped farther towards the back of the car, to see it more from his angle. You grabbed a stepping stool that was standing close by, and leaned over the halo. You face resting just beside his. 

“What was it again?” You asked him, surprisingly calm, but the working Y/N was in control right now.

He pointed again, and started explaining it. And you stretched a hand out to point to it as well, making sure you understood each other. 

Lando didn’t expect you to get that close. And when you stretched your hand out and got even closer, he turned to look at you.

You felt his hot breath on the side of your face, and you could tell in your peripheral that he was looking at you. So you turned to look at him. Your faces so close that your noses almost touched. 

But somehow, you kept your cool. “I can fix that for you Lando, you just need to get out of the car.” You smiled innocently at him as you leaned back and stepped away. 

When he stepped out, you got your tools ready and lowered yourself into the seat, needing to sit there to get the best access.

As you worked away, Lando stood by the side of the car, arms folded against his chest. There was something going on in his body that he couldn’t recognise. He was still feeling the effects of what happened with the two of you earlier. But there was something different there as well.

On Sunday, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror in the public bathroom. It was not long before race start. And you were staring at yourself in the mirror.

You were angry, frustrated and way too fucking horny. Last night, you caved, again. Imagining your fingers were his. You used it as a way of getting the anger out, and it worked. 

But your brain was on overdrive and everything was threatening to boil over. Looking at yourself, you took a deep breath and nodded to yourself, heading back out, ready for work, trying to ignore everything and hoping it would be fine. 

You were sitting on the pit wall, as you watched them line back up on the grid after the formation lap. And Lando lined his car up on P1. Max lined up in P4, unlucky in Q3.

The race start was good, the top 5 drivers staying as is. Lando keeping the lead until halfway in the race, Lando boxed to get new tires. And when he moved his way back up the grid again, you heard his voice coming on the radio.

“Something is wrong.”

“The gears are not working properly”

You turned to Lando’s race engineer sitting to your right. You nodded at him, and he nodded back, a silent exchange you both understood. 

He contacted Lando to tell him he was looking into it, and would update him as fast as possible. 

You looked at as much of the data as you could, as fast as you could. And there you found it. Between all the numbers and graphs, there was one thing off. 

You contacted the race engineer on the radio, and pointed to the mark on the screen. He saw it, and you both knew the solution. Luckily an easy one, as he only needed to press a few buttons on the steering wheel to change modes. 

The race engineer nodded at you again, but this time, in a way that signaled you to tell Lando. So you did.

“Lando, mode 6, and give it 3.8”

“Understood”

“Thanks Y/N”

You felt like you could hear a smile on his face, but probably not. Right?

When you looked back at the data, you saw everything was fine. And not long after, Lando radioed back to say it was good, and he was ready to get back to the chase.

And he did just that, climbing his way back up. Lucky for him, Max had pitted not long after Lando, making Lando ahead of Max in the race. 

You were anxious for the last few laps. He had gotten back into P1, and had made a reasonable gap back to the driver behind him. 

The screams you heard on the radio as he crossed the line first, almost made you deaf for a minute. And you had a big smile on your face as you celebrated with the crew on the pit wall, proud of the car you helped in making. 

You had gotten the car back to the garage after watching the podium. You, and two other mechanics were pulling the protective sheet over the car. You tried to keep your mind focused on the task at hand, but the image of Lando getting champagne poured on him was seared into your brain. But when you were done with everything, thanking the mechanics before you stepped back. You heard someone entering the garage. 

In walked Lando, soaked in champagne and still dressed in his racing suit that was hanging around his hips. When he saw you, he actually smiled. And seeing him like that, you couldn’t help the heat settling in your core.

He almost ran over to you and wrapped his arms around your hips. He lifted you with him in a tight hug, your feet far above the ground, you had to grab onto his shoulders for support. 

“There’s my no.1 mechanic!” 

His voice was muffled as his face was resting directly against your boobs. 

And when you squeezed his shoulders in reaction, he looked up at you as he still held you tight. You couldn’t get any words out. But as he looked up at you, he smiled. A genuine, lovely smile. But something else was shining in his eyes, and his pupils dilated. 

He felt you started to slip out of his arms, so he readjusted his grip. He got a firm hold on your ass, and when you felt it, everything boiled over.

“Let. Me. The Fuck. Down.” “Now.”

The mechanics stood there in confusion until they heard that. They shared a look, and hurried to leave the garage. Avoiding you screaming at Lando.

Lando heard the threatening tone in your voice, and he immediately lowered you to the ground. 

When he stood back to look at you, he opened his mouth to say something. But you were quicker.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME NORRIS? YOU CAN’T JUST LIFT ME UP LIKE THAT! AND NOT TO MENTION WHAT HAPPENED THURSDAY MORNING! YOU’RE MAKING ME GO CRAZY!” You basically screamed at him, with your finger pointing at him in anger. But you weren’t finished. 

“You’re the one who wanted me to have this job, and you’re usually rude and mean, but then you’re teasing me and acting all flirty?!” “You’re so fucking confusing!” 

Your brain had exploded at his point. Every feeling that had been pent up for so long, finally boiled over. And since everything hit you, you felt yourself grow wetter and wetter by the second. You let out a heavy breath and lifted your hands to hold onto your head in frustration. 

Lando had just taken it all, with his eyebrows lifted in shock. He was making you go crazy? His mind was running, what did you mean? He didn’t know what to do, what to say. But then he saw the small movement you made, and the look on your face. A smirk making its way to his face as his eyes got even darker. 

While in your frustration, your body just acted for you. And as you were standing there, looking anywhere but at him, your face red and hot, your whole body on fire. Your thighs squeezed together for some desperate neediness for something, anything. 

And when that caught Landos eyes, he took two long steps towards you. His arms wrapping around you, the palms of his hands resting on the top of your ass. 

When he was suddenly in front of you, so close. You dropped your hands in shock, and just stared into his eyes, then his lips. They were slightly parted, and you saw the quick moment his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Before you quickly looked back into his eyes, cursing yourself for the moment of weakness. 

When you locked eyes again, his eyes were dark, looking down at you. Lando had no patience left. He shoved your body hard, into himself. You chests touching, and the grip he had on your ass, where he was holding you tight against him, you felt almost every detail of his already growing bulge through his pants. If you weren’t soaked already, you sure were now. 

You had no control when you let out a small moan at the contact, and that was all Lando wanted, and needed to hear, as he leaned down to capture your lips in an aggressive kiss.

It was like he was hungry, starving for you. And Lando had wanted you since he first saw you, and with the months that had passed, it all came crashing down at the same time.

The kiss was messy, teeth clashing and rough. But you loved it, feeling another moan slip out of your throat.

As you moaned, Lando took the chance and slipped his tongue inside your mouth, your own immediately tangling with his. It was harsh, but so full of passion. His hands were guiding your hips in a way that gave him some much needed friction. And when your hands slid up to grab onto the hair at the back of his neck, he let out a low groan. 

You couldn’t take it anymore, and you pulled on his hair, so you disconnected. Your breathing was heavy as you looked up at him. He was breathing heavy too, and his lips were wet, and slightly red. His pupils blown wide. God, he looked so fucking good, you almost wanted to go back to being angry at him. just because of how hot he was. But you didn’t, he spoke before you could do anything.

“Shit, I need you.” His eyes darted all across your face, looking for any type of reaction. “Please”

He looked so desperate, and he sounded even more desperate. He was begging you. 

Fuck it, you needed this too. “Your driver room” “Now”

He was quick to grab your hand and pull you after him.

When you finally entered his driver room behind him, he turned around and closed the door behind you. And when he turned back around, he took long steps towards you, until your lips met again. 

Neither of you could control the sounds coming from the both of you. His hands were everywhere, grabbing onto what he could. You hands found his hair again, grabbing it, earning a sweet sound from him. 

He walked the both of you backwards until the backs of your legs hit the small couch. He spun the both of you around, he sat down and pulled you to sit on top of him. 

When you sat down, Lando looked down to where your hips met as his grip on your ass moved your hips, grinding yourself onto him. You lifted both of your hands to hold onto the sides of his face, and made him look at you.

When Lando looked at you, you almost took his breath away. Your cheeks were tinted pink, and your lips were open, breathing heavily. Some of your hair had fallen in your face and your eyes were shining as you looked at him, he swore, you were a goddess. His hands slid up to hold on to your waist, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in a way to try and control himself. But he lost it the second you whispered.

“Just fuck me already”

His hands immediately found the hem of your Red Bull shirt and pulled it over your head. You understood the signal and stood up from his lap and went to pull your pants off, as he pulled the fireproof shirt over his head. 

You were standing in front of him in only your underwear as you looked at him hurrying to pull his race suit and the fireproofs of his legs. When he finally did, he looked up at you, and you swore you could see his dick twitch in his gray boxers. 

Your confidence grew in you, so you went to take your bra off. When it hit the floor, you could hear him muttering under his heavy breath “Fuck”. Next, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your panties and slowly pulled them down. 

It had been awhile since the last time someone saw you naked, but with the reaction Lando was giving you, his eyes looking at you like you were a goddess. It made you feel beautiful, and so powerful. So you stepped forward until you were right in front of him. His eyes kept shifting from your face to your tits. 

You sat down in his lap again, your knees resting beside his hips, and your core just barely touching the outline of his dick in his boxers. When you leaned down to capture his lips again, you lowered your hips until you felt his covered dick resting between your folds. And because of the much needed friction you got. You moaned into his mouth. 

The kiss was much slower and careful than before, frustration replaced by the need to really taste each other. His hands had found a tight hold on your hips, as he tried to guide them to move. 

“Baby, you’re soaked” He said as he looked down at where you were resting above him.

Lifting your hips, you saw that his boxers were absolutely soaked because of you. And you felt your face heat up even more. 

“Fuck, I can’t wait anymore” “You reckon you’re ready to take me?”

He looked up at you, and you felt stunned. Just nodding wildly at him, his smirk grew. He looked down again, and pulled his boxers down enough to free his dick. Springing free, it hit his abdomen. You stared down, bewildered. How was he supposed to fit?

His hands found your hips again, and he guided them to rest right above him. One of his hands wrapped around his dick, and he moved his hands up and down a few times, as he looked up at you. You were staring down at his hand wrapped around himself, and you felt your pussy clench, waiting to finally have him inside of you. 

He moved his dick so the tip was resting against your hole. Looking up at him, he still had that smirk on his face. 

“Think you can handle it?” 

You didn’t reply before you dropped your hips down until he bottomed out inside of you. His pelvis hitting your clit. You both moaned simultaneously. The stretch was a lot, he was big, and you hadn’t had a dick in you for ages. But God it felt so good. 

Lando swore no one had been able to fit around him so perfectly, and when you took all of him, he felt you clench around him, almost holding him in. He felt another moan slip out of him. His mouth was hanging open in awe as he looked at you. Your head was tipped back, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

“Shit, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted you” He almost whispered.

He slid a hand up to hold on to the side of your face, tipping it down to make you look at him. And his other hand gave your hip a squeeze. 

“Please move”

You didn’t have to make him beg for you, he just did on his own. Was he really this weak for you?

A smirk grew on your face as you wanted to know just how weak he was. You just grinded your hips slowly, and you watched his face as his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. You kept your small movements up, but he tried to lift your hips up and down on him. But you were stubborn, and you didn’t budge. 

Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders, as the movement was so good for you. Your clit getting friction everytime you moved back and forth. Your breath coming out in whimpers. 

You closed your eyes again, but opened them when you felt his hand on your face again. The look on his face was pleading. 

“Please baby.” “I need more” His voice was so soft and sweet, and you couldn’t help the smile on your lips. 

“Say it again.”

“Please please please please baby”

His hands were running up and down your torso as his eyes were locked on yours.

You gave in and moved your hips up to slam them back down. And the groan that made its way out of lando could’ve made you cum already.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, as you kept up the rhythm, riding him with your hands gripping his shoulders. His hands slid around to your ass and grabbed a hold as he helped you move up and down on his dick, and his hips moved up to meet yours. 

You knew the door to the driver room was pretty thin, so you bit your bottom lip to try and hold back some of the sounds threatening to escape. Lando noticed, and snaked a hand around to circle his thumb around your clit. He saw it on your face, the effect it had on you. But he also felt it, as you got even tighter around him. You didn’t moan from it, but he sure did. 

You were so focused as you tried to keep quiet, but with the added pleasure it was so difficult, also because of the sounds he was making.

“Come on baby, let me hear you” He said in a low tone, as he was looking up at you.

That broke you. And he got the sounds from you that he desperately needed to hear. 

As you looked down at him, you saw his eyebrows scrunched together as he was staring at himself disappearing inside you, and his mouth was hanging open. You lifted one of your hands and ran it through the wet curls on the top of his head, still soaked in champagne and sweat. 

You grabbed a hold of them and pulled his head back to make him look at you. All of the feelings you had for him came rising to the surface, just as you felt your climax closing in. The feelings of anger and frustration. So with gritted teeth, you spoke.

“Fuck you.”

He enjoyed that.

“You already are sweetheart.”

You gave in and sped up your rhythm. And his thumb moved faster and his grip on your ass tightened. Your hand slid down to cradle his jaw. You ran your thumb across the facial hair growing on his chin, before you pulled him in for a searing kiss before your climax hit like a brick wall. 

You disconnected from the kiss and tipped your head back, eyes screwed shut, as your vision was going white, and you whispered a quiet “Fuck, Lando” as you came. 

Lando felt you tighten around him as you came, and he looked up at you, mesmerized, as he saw your face contourting as you came around him. And he followed right after, coming inside you. 

You felt him filling you up, and his thumb had slowed down, but was still rubbing soft circles helping you come down from your orgasm. After a few seconds of catching your breath, as he did the same, you opened your eyes to look at him again, and he was already looking at you. The ghost of a gorgeous smile on his face. 

His hands rested on your thighs, and his thumb rubbing soft circles again. Neither of you said anything, you just looked at each other.

“You’re going to be the death of me” 

He was whipped.

Notes: I realized this could be made into a series or something. So let me know if you want more!! Thank you for reading<3

[nymphomatique]

finally fucking nerd miguel but he cums after 5 secs being inside you but you won’t stop and just treat him like a toy and he’ll beg because he’s overstimulated but you don’t care cause it’s not your fault he cums fast right? 😌🥰

🫠 wow i got butterflies

cw: unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), reverse cowgirl, miguel can carry us idc how big you are, miguel cums early but you do NOT gaf, creampie, some praise, teeny bit of teasing, soft ending 🤫 also not proofread you guys know this by now fr. enjoy 🤭

“hey, miguel,” you whisper across from him. the two of you were at the library sharing a study table, miguel doing research on your genetic mutation paper while you shopped online. he lowers his laptop screen to look at you, still shy as ever around you. “yes?”

i look at him and smirk a little, mouthing the words ‘i wanna fuck’ to him. you can tell he immediately picks up on what you said when you see his ears redden and his head snap down to look back at the mess of books, loose paper and pens, and his laptop strewn across the table.

you stand up and put your laptop in your bag, leaving against the table waiting for him. “well?”

he packs up immediately.

back at your dorm, as soon as you two step foot inside you’ve already dropped your keys, making a move to kiss miguel rather suddenly. he drops both his backpack and your purse on the ground in shock at how hasty you’re being today. he makes haste to match your fervent attitude today, his newly empty hands coming up to your waist to hold you gently as your tongue sweeps across his own hungrily.

you pull apart from him, a small spit trail connecting the two of you together at your lips, and you bring one of your hands up, swiping off the spit from miguel’s plump and swollen lips. wordlessly, you watch eachother, each of your eyes communicating the burning need inside you both. you move your thumb from its resting place on miguel’s lip to push past the soft flesh, miguel sucking on your thumb. through his sucking, the two of you maintain eye contact and it sends a burning through you, miguel’s brown eyes void of his glasses in place for contacts staring at you with such vivid emotion. lust, want, need.

“take me to bed,” you speak, breaking the silence. “yes, mistress,” miguel responds, thumb still in his mouth. his hands move from their placement in your waist to ended your ass, his hands big, but ever so gentle with you despite how you treat him. he bends to get leverage to pick you up and as he comes back up, you jump up into him, legs wrapped around his thick frame and arms around his strong neck. he’s been going to the gym, you think.

wordlessly, miguel carries you over to your bed, the two of you pulled into a state of looking at eachother. he sits down at the edge of the bed, with you now sitting in his lap.

you push his chest so he’s laying back on the bed, and his shirt tugs up a little, revealing the small trail of hair sitting at his lower stomach and disappearing beneath his the elastic band of his boxers.

you push his shirt up and over his head, and throw it behind you. you move up to sit directly on miguel’s crotch. you’re sitting upright, your body con dress you wore riding up your thighs a bit, teasing miguel for what he’s so anxious to see. you look down at miguel, his breathing slightly quicker than average, his face painted in a light blush at the anticipation of what you two were about to do.

you bend down, laying on top of miguel now and his breathing hitches. you laugh a bit, his excitement no matter how much you do this with him a bit endearing. “you wanna know something?” you start, face hovering above his, looking down in his eyes. miguel swallows and his adams apple bobs up and down. “you’re such a good boy for me.” you start. one hand begins to trail up his lower abdomen, lightly brushing until your hand reaches his neck, resting without any pressure. “you’ve been such a good boy for me lately, that i’m finally gonna let you fuck me.” you emphasize with a curt squeeze. miguel licks his lips and lets out a steadying breath at the revelation.

“strip for me,” you say, getting off of him, ridding yourself of you dress leaving you in your pink lacy bra and thong set. miguel shucks off his pants and you watch when he pulls his boxers down, his cock springing up and hitting is lower stomach. he’s huge. you knew this, and sometimes you even indulged in miguel during oral by being vocal about how his big cock is so deep in my mouth. but knowing he was going to be inside you? a different ball park. it’s proportional to the rest of his ligaments, matching his big feet, wide hands, strapping build and towering height. you’d estimate that he’s about 9 inches long, the biggest you’ve ever taken.

aside from being big, it was so mouthwateringly pretty. it was a gorgeous tan colour matching the rest of his golden skin with a pink tip, leaking with pre cum already. two thin veins ran along the underside of him, with a trimmed black tuft of hair sitting pretty at the base. his balls were big and swollen, and with the amount he came in your mouth most days, you’re sure that he’d absolutely pump you full today.

“lay back for me,” you instruct, removing your bra and leaving only your panties on. he lays back and you sit, ass facing him in and sitting on your knees in reverse cowgirl. you look back at miguel over your shoulder and you’re sure he’s going to burst into tears at any given moment, the image of you in front of him like this, fat ass in his face with the little wet spot on your panties visible, any man with an attraction for women would look like him too.

you smirk at him, and reach behind you to move your panties to the side, exposing him your wet pussy. he lets out a stuttered breath at the image you can’t miss, and you feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. you grab his cock, warm and throbbing, and align it with your entrance. you tease him first, rubbing it along your wet folds and even brushing your clit. “tell me how bad you want it, miguel.”

“so- so fucking bad. please put it in? i want- need to feel you. ple- ah! please mistress.” when he’s done his babbling you sink down on his length, moaning at the burning stretch. “h-holy shit i’m gonna-“ and you feel something hot spurt inside you.

he came inside you.

you look back at him, deadpan expression on your face. he immediately is embarrassed and his face reddens, and the babbling apology starts. but you ignore him and lift your hips to slam them back down on his cock.

miguel’s hands jump to grab your hips, sputtering out a “t-too much, oh my god.” you roll your eyes at his audacity. “not my fault you can’t hold your load, man. you’re gonna keep going until i cum, no matter how much it is, got it?” you spit back, moving your hips up and down miguel’s length, feeling him hit every spot inside you.

“so deep inside, feels good,” you moan out. your hips are aching at the stretch of miguel’s dick, but it hurts too good to stop. “so fuckin’ big, baby. makin’ me- ah! making me feel so good,”

your words of praise give miguel a boost of encouragement, his hands on your hips pulling you back down on his length, his hips meeting you half way. his heavy balls begin to slap against your clit as he thrusts up into you, and the stimulation makes you shudder.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck. cum inside me. i wanna feel you inside me, miguel,” you moan, feeling light headed at the pressure deep in your gut. your hips are starting to slow down, but miguel doesn’t relent in his thrusts. he slams his hips up to meet yours and you feel like he’s in your throat. the erotic sound of miguel’s whining moans, the slapping of your skin, and your squealing at the pleasure is beginning to overwhelm you, and you feel your whole body go white with pleasure. “o-oh my god i’m cumming,” you manage to shake out.

miguel isn’t quite finished yet, he’s still fucking up into you through your orgasm and you swear your whole body goes numb. you’re cumming again. this time, miguel speeds up and with one last final thrust, he lifts his hips up into you and cums, letting out a heavy groan. you feel him begin to fill you up, some of his cum leaking out of you and onto his pelvis.

you’re both left breathless on the bed for a moment, relishing in the after moments of your orgasm. when you finally come to, you see miguel softly breathing, eyes closed. you move to lay in the crook of his arm and kiss his cheek, falling into the same breathing pattern, falling into unconscious bliss.

[so-i-did-this-thing]

What is All Creatures Great & Small about?

Hi!

ACGAS started off as a book series by James Herriott (pen name). It is a fictionalized autobiography of a British veterinarian mostly in 1930s-40s (later eras do happen) rural England. His writing style is very accessible and full of humor, but at the same time, can get very graphic about the realities of his practice. (Content warning for a lot of animal death.)

It's a lovely snippet of pre-war and wartime England through a mostly small-scale agricultural lens. While I'm unsure if the author had specific themes in mind, a big one is the resiliency of the Dales farmers in the face of tremendous change (automation, war, etc.)

The books focus a lot on various animal cases and sparked a love for the career in a lot of vets even today. (I myself considered large animal practice as a teen, specifically horses.)

The books got adapted into a long running series in 1978 (when the inspiration for many of the characters were still alive!). The adaptation works more like a series of vingettes, with some continuity (the main character gets married and has kids, another character graduates from college, etc.).

The revival 2020 series (currently wrapping season 5) treats the material as a setting for a more traditional period comic-drama. Details are shifted around or outright changed, and the focus is on characters. But the original DNA is all there. If there's an overall arc in the new series, it's how found family is making the characters better versions of themselves.

I recommend all 3 incarnations as some cozy, comfort media, but suggest they be treated as their own things. On their strengths: The books are a great look into an agricultural world that doesn't exist anymore. The 1978 series is full of delightful characters and brings scenes from the books to life. The 2020 series invests you in the lives of the characters and how they change over time. (Fwiw, both series have strong production connections to the original author and descendants, and the actors understand the importance of the legacy they are carrying on. There is a lot of love on screen.)

Anyway, I have loved this series for 37 years now and am delighted to see it pique folks' interest.

[zae-heeyyy]

Pastiche

Summary: You and Arthur escape through writing. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x gn!Reader Word Count: 2,345 Trigger Warning: Tuberculosis, death Tags: angst, sadness, high honor Arthur

a/n: Thanks for you kind words on Chiaroscuro. I've enjoyed writing again so much! I'm in my tragedy era. My hs english teacher's voice haunts me when I'm writing, so I spent a lot of time scrutinizing this. Didn't mean for it to be so long, but I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

pastiche: a work of art or literature that imitates the style or character of another, often as an homage or tribute.

You knew there was something special about Arthur Morgan the day you met him. Despite his best efforts to believe otherwise, he was easy on the eyes, and his dry humor combined with his strong sense of honor sealed your crush on the cowboy. Everybody else could see that he was sweet on you, too, noticing when he pulled you to sit at the fire with him or how he watched you around camp. As more time passed, you'd become mostly inseparable, taking every moment you had to sneak away together. One of your favorite places to escape to was the fields of Little Creek River in Big Valley. You'd be reading a book and glance over to find Arthur staring intently at an animal until it was out of sight. Then he'd open up his journal and sketch it.  He wasn't doing that today, though. He was staring across the field, but you could tell he was elsewhere in his mind.

"Got somethin' to say," his eyes met yours earnestly. When he told you he loved you, a laugh erupted deep from your belly. Dumbfounded, he asked, "The hell is so funny?" his own laugh betraying his attempt to be solemn. It was hilarious to you that he didn't think you already knew that and that he didn't know you absolutely felt the same.

Another day, you were lying in Arthur's lap in the grass. Just the day before, he had returned to camp with bruised knuckles and some poor fool's blood on his face—one of Strauss's clients. You longed for a life where bruised knuckles and loan sharking were distant memories.

"Where would you be if you weren't here," you'd asked, holding his hand in yours. He stroked your thumb with his and gazed over the valley like always.

"Hard to imagine." He mumbled, sounding far away.

You nodded in agreement and replied, "You're always writing or drawing in your notebook. Maybe you could've been an artist or a writer." The thought brought a soft smile to your face, and you imagined, just for a second, a life where Arthur's biggest worry was perfecting his latest masterpiece.

He huffed in dry amusement, "Probably wouldn't have known how to read if it weren't for Dutch and Hosea."

You assented again and sighed, the smile on your face growing wider.

 "Arthur Morgan: author and illustrator." You held your hands up in dramatic fashion as if envisioning the words in front of you. Then you untangled yourself from him and sat up, "You could, you know? It's not too late. Maybe a biography?"

"A story about my life, huh?" He looked at you with a dumb smile, "I think a book about dirt would be more interestin'." He bobbed his head up and down as if nodding made his thought more true. You shoved him playfully, and he raised his eyebrow at you and held out his hands questionly. "What? There's all different kinds of dirt," he started counting on his fingers." Brown dirt, red dirt, hard dirt—"

You cut him off, "I'm serious, Arthur! This life…it ain't one normal folks live." A shit-eating grin crept up his face as he fought not to make another joke at his own expense. He shoved it down and kept listening. "Sure, it's just your life to you, but other people might find it interesting, exciting, even."

He thought for a second, then put his hands in the air, mimicking you, "The Confessions of Arthur Morgan: The Detailed Life of a Gunslinger by Arthur Morgan. Sounds like a Pinkerton's wet dream."

 "I see what you mean," you trail off, fingers playing in the grass. "Could change the name. People publish under a different name all the time. There's a word for that, I think."

"Pseudonym," he responded, his accent thick. "Think it's got one of those silent letters in front." He said it so matter of factly, and it confirmed what you already knew about him: he was far more intelligent than anybody ever gave him credit for. Still, you left the idea alone and thought Arthur had, too.

Then, on another afternoon in the fields near Little Creek River, he spoke out of nowhere. "Arthur Callahan or Tacitus Kilgore?" 

"Hmm?" you asked, barely glancing up from your book.

"For the pen name," he confirmed, scratching his chin thoughtfully. 

From that day on, your trips to Little Creek River became writing sessions. He bought a notebook that you two would trade off, coming up with ideas for the dramatized life of the gunslinger. You'd taken some creative liberties, and the story wasn't exactly a biography anymore. It had shaped into a Western love story. Arthur Callahan, after living a bad life, met someone who made him want to be better, an angel sent to rescue the devil himself. Arthur Callahan would get the perfect ending; a normal life. It was all Arthur's idea. 

"It's not my story; it's ours," he'd told you. 

You had been daydreaming about the possibilities for your novel for some time, but the chaos of life with the gang left little room to focus on it. The sudden move from Horseshoe Overlook to Clemens Point made things worse. Somewhere in the move, the manuscript was lost or destroyed—either way, it was gone. You couldn't hold back your tears during your next trip to Big Valley. Arthur's big hands swallowed your face as his thumbs wiped your tears away.  

"Shhh, we'll rewrite it, sweetheart," he promised.

Despite Arthur's gentle nudges, you couldn't find it in you to rewrite the story. Another day, he'd invited you to ride with him, heading off to your usual spot. He'd asked once more if you were feeling up to writing again. When you rejected the idea, he shook his head, seemingly surrendering. 

"Fine! You're so damn stubborn." There was no malice in his voice, though, and his eyes twinkled a little. "Looks like I gotta take matters into my own hands." Instead of stopping the horse in the fields as usual, Arthur stopped short, cutting into nearby woods. Eventually, he halted outside of the small cabin that was Vetter's Echo and hitched the horse outside. 

"Come on," he said, helping you down. "I've got a surprise for you." You walked up the cabin's steps, and he swung the door open to a small living quarters. "It don't got a back door, and I'm pretty sure the feller living here got mauled by a bear, but it's got one of these things." He gestured to the desk in the corner of the small cabin, a typewriter sitting atop it, "I don't have the first clue about using it." So he left it for you to figure out. He'd sit on a stool beside you, reading from a notebook, and you'd type slowly at first, but as time went on, the keys felt as familiar to you as a gun trigger did to him. 

Then things started falling apart. You'd moved from Horseshoe Overlook to Clemens Point, then to Shady Bell in a matter of weeks. The men went on a job to rob the bank in St. Denis, and most didn't return. You'd forgotten about the manuscript while trying to survive and spent weeks worried about Arthur and everybody else.

Then he came home to you, waterlogged but alive. You'd never felt more relieved. He was skinny and had a persistent cough, blaming it all on his rough journey. But it didn't stop him from finishing the book as promised. He'd write whenever he had a chance, and you'd go back to the little cabin in the woods, you typing and him reading.

Then he couldn't get through a page without coughing. You listened, concern etched on your face as he told you about his coughing spell and subsequent visit to the doctor in the city. Tuberculosis: practically a death sentence. After that, he'd step back when you tried to be close to him and wouldn't let you kiss him or be intimate with him. You spent a lot of time crying while he dipped his head in profound shame. 

Weeks later, he woke you up at night, gently shaking you and whispering to not alert anyone else. "C'mon, get dressed and ride with me." He was serious, his jaw set, his voice low but demanding. You didn't know what was wrong, but dread ran through your veins. You rode far away from camp, mostly in silence, your anxiety not letting you say anything. 

"You're gonna live a good life. "he finally said, breaking the silence. Your eyes stung, and you felt a lump in your throat.

"I don't want to hear this right now, Arthur."

He shook his head, frustrated, and spoke through clenched teeth. "Listen to me." His tone made you flinch. He'd never taken on that tone with you, ever. "This whole thing with Dutch, it's over. You gotta run. Gotta get out and make a good life for yourself." 

You wanted to protest; you weren't going to leave him, not now. But then you saw the waiting stagecoach up ahead. Your heart dropped and shattered into a million pieces. You reached around him to pull the horse's reins, coming to a skidding stop. You hopped down and started shaking your head, frantic in your movements and words. 

"No, Arthur. No."

You wiped away the quickly falling tears as you turned, fast walking, almost running back to that godforsaken camp that was Beaver Hollow. Even in his sickness, it only took Arthur a few big steps to reach you, grabbing you by the waist and turning you to face him. And then you cursed at him, pounded your fists against his chest, and wailed into the night. He just pulled you close to him, squeezing you until you didn't fight anymore. He gave you a stack of cash, made you promise to run, and said he'd come find you after it was all over. But both of you knew, deep down, that you were setting eyes on each other for the last time. He kissed your head. You sobbed into his chest, only letting go when the impatient stagecoach driver beckoned you.

"Never could've imagined I'd know somebody as perfect for me as you." All you could choke out was, "I love you," over and over and over again. He slipped a folded letter into your hand and helped you into the coach filled with your things. He stood silently with his hat in his hands while you rode off into the night. You sobbed for as long as your body let you while the coach took you down to Copperhead Landing.

First, Tilly showed up with Jack, and then Sadie came with Abagail. But then John arrived bearing Arthur's hat and satchel with a look in his eyes so terrible that it brought you to a screaming sob. That night, when everybody had finally settled down to sleep, you slipped away, leaving a note of thanks and well wishes. You were alone then, the way you wanted it to be without Arthur.  

Eight years; it had been eight years since everything went to shit. In eight years, you worked your ass off with any odd jobs you could find. Keeping busy was how you cured your broken heart. You'd tried as hard as you could to forget about the life you'd once lived until you read a headline in the newspaper: MICAH BELL KILLED. The memories flooded back to you, and you returned to a place you hadn't visited in a while. You only kept 2 things from that time: a letter from Arthur and the manuscript you'd written with him. Forged in Fire, you called it. After all this time, you couldn't remember who came up with the name, but you remembered why. You two were like tempered metal; the more you walked through hellfire, the stronger you became.  

Then there was Arthur's letter. You'd read it only once before today.

"Things I wanted to say but did not have the courage to say aloud." was scrawled across the top of the page, followed by a list.

"Keep visiting Big Valley.

Keep writing.

Publish the book.

Watch every sunset.

Trust your gut.

Please, be happy."

You heard his voice through every word. He'd underlined the third point: publish the book. In that moment, you decided to take a leap. You wrote to a publisher and sent a copy of the manuscript. And that's all it took. Things went into a tailspin after that, and before you knew it, you were holding a hard copy of the manuscript you and Arthur had worked on together all that time ago.

You'd made an effort, then, to find Abigail and John and Jack. They were held up at a ranch, Beecher's Hope, and were married now. You caught up with the Marstons and apologized for hastily disappearing all those years ago. They were happy for you, and you for them. 

On your departure, John took your hand, "I don't talk about him much these days, but I don't think he loved anybody like he loved you." He paused for a moment and forced his eyes to meet yours. "He's buried out in Ambarino, near Donner Falls. Top of the mountain. I can take you." You declined John's offer but set out east toward Donner Falls the next day. 

You found him around noon and watched wistfully as an eagle flew from its spot on a rock behind the flowery grave. You fell to your knees, no longer able to control the tears flowing down your face. "I did it, my love," you choked through tears. It'd been a long, long time since you let yourself feel this pain—a longing to reach something impossible. You dabbed the tears away from your eyes and sat in the grass, hugging Forged in Fire to your chest. "Thought I'd read it to you," you spoke into the air. You opened the book, cracked the spine, and read "Chapter One: Heaven's Fall, Hell's Rise."

[beesinspace]

Alastor! Now, while Alastor's og design hits that preteen oc, nostalgia-core, I wanted to something I would create today with the og as a jumping off point, like i did with the other designs. I really liked the idea of Al looking real unassuming for a demon, pushing the fact that deers are pray animals and having him look more like a normal human that other members of the cast, the idea that the most monstrous of the main cast looks the most human? Delicious! It also fits in with how other demons dismissed him when he first entered hell. Decided to make his more demonic form more deer like tho, taking inspo from the fanged deer (a really cool animal you should look up!), I like the cryptid feel of a distorted deer-man creature. Some other notes, I've scrapped all illusions to Voodoo to his power set and design language, not only because voodoo is a closed off religion or how it started being practised by enslaved Black folks and as such has been demonised for decades, but also because it honestly wasn't needed. Radio and deer are such strong aesthetics that its fine without voodoo on top! You can give nods to his heritage with out including a closed religion that is seen as evil already. Hell I'm even debating on whether to keep the shadow powers as again it doesn't really link to his to main motifs, but we will see lol

I'm also having my take on Al be confirmed Aroace, I know he is cannonically Ace (so happy about the rep) but I'm adding Aromantic for definate with my version. And he's probs in a QPR with Roise. I love them being ride or die. Also debated giving him a lil deer tail, I love the idea but on the other hand again I really like how human he looks. Eh, I'll add it in the future if I feel like it.

[greynatomy]

take me or leave me

leah williamson x reader

obsessed with this song. my musical era is back.

anyone here watched rent? if you want a visual of how reader kinda acts while performing, click this link.

masterpost

———

You met Leah when she attended an awards show two years ago. You’d sat at the same table and got to talking. She asked for your number and the two of you would be texting and calling all the time.

Eventually, she asked you on a date, taking you to dinner at a secluded section in the restaurant. That night was a night that you could never forget. She let you talk about your career and passions while you did the same for her.

You were from two different worlds, being well known in your own ways, but understand each other, for the most part.

Two years in, and your relationship still strong. You did have some arguments here and there, that’s normal, but what you learned over the years was how jealous she could get. It was amazing to have someone love you so much that they don’t want anyone coming in between that, but sometimes her jealousy becomes too much, like today.

You invited her and some of her friends to a night out with some of your friends. Your two worlds colliding once more.

Being in a relationship with you, she knew how many people ‘desired’ you. You’ve been a public figure since you were a teen. You’ve had costars who’ve tried to date you, others who openly flirt with you and always reassure Leah that she’s the only one you want. She knows that. Doesn’t mean she has to like the way men and women throw themselves at you.

Today was another one of those days, except this time her jealousy seemed to have amplified. Your friends traveled all the way to London to visit you, Leah inviting some of her Arsenal teammates, meeting at a little karaoke club.

Just an hour of being here, Leah’s mood sours. She keeps seeing people coming up to you, some were fans and some who ‘wanted to get to know you’ and not in a friendly matter. It came to a point where she started to ignore you, staying by her friends.

You’ve had enough of it, so you thought of a way to grab her attention. You grabbed your friend Alex and walked up to the person in charge of the karaoke performances. Leaning down to his ear, you whisper your song choice, he gives you a smile and a thumbs up.

“Alright, alright!” He announces on the microphone getting everyone’s attention. “We’ve got some broadway royalty with us today! Here to perform a classic from hit musical Rent, Y/N Y/LN and Alexis Thomas.

That got Leah’s attention. She directs her eyes towards the stage where you and Alex stood, microphones in hand. Leah or her friends didn’t know this musical, none of them have ever been into broadway musicals so they didn’t know what to expect. You knew this would get her more jealous, but this is what she gets for ignoring you.

Every single day I walk down the street I hear people say "Baby" so sweet

Ever since puberty Everybody stares at me Boys, girls I can't help it, baby

You look to where Leah sat, shrugging your shoulders.

So be kind And don't lose your mind Just remember That I'm your baby

You point a finger towards her.

Take me for what I am Who I was meant to be And if you give a damn Take me baby or leave me Take me baby or leave me

You take your coat off, revealing an outfit that shows more skin than Leah would like. You walk over to where she sat, draping the coat over her shoulders.

A tiger in a cage Can never see the sun This diva needs her stage Baby, let's have fun!

You walk around to your girlfriend, pulling her chair back and sit sideways in her lap, arm draped over her shoulder.

You are the one I choose Folks would kill to fill your shoes You love the limelight too now, baby

You take the strap of your top, slowly dropping it from your shoulder, teasing her.

So be mine But don't waste my time Cryin', "Oh honeybear Are you still my, my, my baby?"

Leah’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer.

Take me for what I am Who I was meant to be And if you give a damn Take me baby or leave me

You turn in her lap, now straddling her, the hand not holding the microphone grabs the back of her neck, yanking her face to yours, nose barely grazing.

No way, can I be what I'm not But hey, don't you want your girl hot? Don't fight, don't lose your head 'Cause every night, who's in your bed?

She tries to hold onto you as you climb out of her lap. You place a hand on her chest, pushing her back and give her a flying kiss, walking back to the stage.

Who, who's in your bed? Kiss, pookie

Alex starts her part. You’ve both sang this song together so many times that the routine is muscle memory.

It won't work, I look before I leap I love margins and discipline I make lists in my sleep Baby, what's my sin?

Never quit, I follow through I hate mess, but I love you What to do with my impromptu baby?

She starts stalking towards you as you back up, running a finger up your arm. She grabs at your face softly, bringing your face close to hers.

So be wise 'Cause this girl satisfies You've got a prize, so don't compromise You're one lucky baby

Leah squirms in her seat, not liking how you and your friend are touchy, steam practically blowing out of her ears. Her friends start to tease her, jealousy easily seen in her face.

As the songs finishes, Leah is quick off her seat, rushing towards you. She grabs your wrist, pulling you towards what you assume the restroom. You turn your head towards your friends and Leah’s teammates, giving them a wink.

Shutting the bathroom door, she pushes you against it, leaning down so you’re face to face.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” You ask innocently.

“That’s little show you did there?”

“Oh, that.” You extend the ‘a’. “That’s just a little something me and Alex love to perform.”

“Was all the touching really necessary?”

“Yes.”

She looked at you shocked. “What d’you mean ‘yes.’”

“The only way I thought to get your attention after ignoring me all night.”

“People were all over you!”

“And what did the song say? Something like ‘Take me baby or leave me.’”

You give her a quick, but passionate kiss, pushing her away. Making sure to fix yourself it the mirror, you give her a wink, leaving a stunned Leah in the restroom.

[heizlut]

Kaeya has STRONG "I'll treat you like a queen in the streets, but you better serve me like I'm a king in the sheets" vibes

I just know this man is hiding a huge degradation kink. Everyone will be seeing him pampering you and being the sweetest and most romantic bf ever, but he will be saying the filthiest shit ever later, making you work for the PRIVILEGE of being able to suck his cock, and you bet I'm all for it

when i saw this, i was giggling and blushing like an idiot lmao i completely agree that this is how kaeya is so here goes:

tags: sub fem!reader, dom!kaeya, degradation, humiliation

nsfw under the cut

m!list here

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆

All eyes were on you and Kaeya whenever you went out. He was always the perfect gentleman, spoiling you with whatever you could ask for. You'd look up at him with a pretty doe-eyed look when you wanted him to get you something that had caught your eye. Not that you needed to do that since he would give you Celestia if you asked for it. The girls would look on with jealous eyes and the older folks of Mondstadt would turn to their own sons and grandsons saying 'That's how you treat a lady'. But little did they know what went on when the two of you were in the privacy of your own home.

When you both had entered your home after a day of you being absolutely spoiled as usual, Kaeya looks to you. His sweet and cheerful demeanor dropping the second you walked in through the door, taking on a hint of dark lust. He reaches out, placing a finger under your chin to tilt your head up, "Such a spoiled little thing... Don't you think I deserve a thank you?" The tone of his voice makes you feel dizzy as you bite at your bottom lip and nod, "Thank you.." Kaeya tilts his head slightly, one corner of his lips curling up, “You can do better than that.”

Without hesitation, you lift your dress over your head, tossing it to the floor. Kaeya watches with a smug smirk on his face, but unfortunately, you're taking too long for his liking. He pulls you by the front of your bra, making you gasp in surprise and stumble towards him. Using his cryo vision, he freezes the part he's holding onto and effectively shatters the front, letting the garment hit the floor. Before you can speak a word, he does the same with your panties. A chill runs up your spine from feeling such a harsh coldness almost directly on your sensitive core and you give an exasperated pout, "Kaeyaaa! That was my favorite set..." He just chuckles darkly, shaking his head as he leans close to you, his hot breath contrasts the cold you were feeling, "You're acting as if I won't just buy you another."

Kaeya didn't like to see you continue to pout like the spoiled brat you were (although you becoming as spoiled as you were was entirely his fault), so he reaches out, using a touch of cryo as he pinches your nipple between his deft fingers. Your expression immediately switches to one of surprise and pleasure as he teases you. His fingers make their way down your body, making you shiver from the cold touch. Just when he's about to reach your clit, he pauses with a devious look on his face, "I don't think you deserve my touch here." His fingers trace just above where you desperately want him as you whimper. His hand quickly makes it's way to your throat, squeezing just enough to bring your focus back to him, "Such a needy little slut I have... You're supposed to be thanking me properly for what I've done for you today, yet here you are whining for me to satisfy you instead, tsk."

Before you can speak up, Kaeya walks across the room and sits down on the bed. He takes off his belt and undoes his pants, freeing his half-hardened cock and pumping it languidly in his hand. The look in his eyes is a dark one that makes you weak in the knees. Your eyes move down to look at the way he's pumping his length and you almost salivate. You start to make your way to him when Kaeya clicks his tongue, "Crawl to me." You blink once, unsure of if he said what you thought he just said. Kaeya gives you a sharp look, "Get on your hands and knees and fucking crawl to me like a dog since you want to stand there practically drooling for my cock."

Kaeya being degrading to you wasn't something new, you actually loved it, and getting on your hands and knees for him was exactly what you would do. You crawl your way over to him and he can't help the dark chuckle that falls from his lips as he watches how pathetic you are for him. You reach him and get on your knees in front of him, giving that doe-eyed look he knew so well. "Aww that's cute. You think that look works here?", Kaeya leans down, he cock so close to your lips, "Unfortunately for you, that little look isn't going to cut it. You haven't done much to even deserve my cock. All you did was simply crawl. Do better... Give me a show."

You whimper, your pussy aching with desperate need. You wanted him so badly... You turn around, arching your back with your perky ass wiggling in the air. You reach underneath yourself and start rubbing your clit, letting your juices drench your fingers as you run them through your folds then back to your clit. You let out a soft moan as you try your best to tempt him and give him the show he wanted. Kaeya watches with intrigue, pumping his length a little faster as pre drips from the thick tip. With his free hand, he catches you off guard by landing a harsh smack to your ass, making you cry out, "Lemme see you stretch out that pathetic pussy of yours. We need to make sure my cock will fit without an issue this time."

You pant as you do your best to finger yourself, making sure to spread your pussy with your fingers inside to show that you could take it. You try to go deeper, trying to replicate the feeling of his fingers in your pussy but you let out a pitiful cry of frustration when you can't reach the spots that he does so effortlessly. Kaeya rolls his eyes at the state you're in, "Face me. On your knees. I've seen enough." You adjust yourself how he wants you to be with a worried look on your face, thinking that you failed entirely and would be left a pitiful, needy mess, "Please. I can do better. Let me do better." He quirks a brow at this, "That true? Then beg for my cock."

He continues stroking himself, squeezing at the reddened tip. The view is mesmerizing to you, hardly able to tear your eyes away as you beg, "Please let me suck your cock. I can make you feel so good-" Kaeya cuts you off with a snap of his fingers, drawing your eyes up to him instead of his cock, "Eyes on me, slut. Try again." You lick your lips and have the most desperate submissive look on your face, "Please, Kaeya. Fuck my throat. Use me." His lips curl into a satisfied smile, "That's more like it... Open up."

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆

a/n: i hope you liked this anon! maybe i’ll make this into a full fic with more ways kaeya can degrade the reader👀

[warrioreowynofrohan]

LOTR Newsletter - October 26

Yes, I know that today isn't a reading day, but with the hobbits safe in Rivendell and the Council of Elrond over it's a good day to catch up with what's been going on in the Shire.

Which is not good.

Because the Scouring of the Shire comes at the end of The Return of the King, it's natural that we generally associate it with Saruman screwing everything up. But things were going wrong in the Shire well before Saruman got there.

This is the account that Tom Cotton gives of events in the Shire during this autumn:

“It all began with Pimple [i.e. Lotho Sackville-Baggins], as we call him, and it began as soon as you’d gone off, Mr. Frodo. He’d funny ideas, had Pimple. Seems he wanted to own everything himself, and then order other folks about. It soon came out that he already did own a sight more than was good for him; and he was always grabbing more, though where he got the money was a mystery: mills and malthouses and inns, and farms, and leaf-plantations. He’d already bought Sandyman’s mill before he came to Bag End, seemingly. “Of course he started with a lot of property in the Southfarthing which he had from his dad; and it seems he’d been selling a lot o’ the best leaf, and sending it away quietly for a year or two. But at the end o’ last year he began sending away loads of stuff, not only leaf. Things began to get short, and winter coming on, too. Folk got angry, but he had his answer. A lot of Men, ruffians mostly, came with great waggons, some to carry off the goods south-away, and others to stay. And more came. And before we knew where we were they were planted here and there all over the Shire, and were felling trees and digging and building themselves sheds and houses just as they liked. At first goods and damage was paid for by Pimple; but soon they began lording it around and taking what they wanted.  “…Take Sandyman’s mill now. Pimple knocked it down almost as soon as he came to Bag End. Then he brought in a lot o’ dirty-looking Men to build a bigger one and fill it full o’ wheels and outlandish contraptions. Only that fool Ted was pleased by that, and he works there cleaning wheels for the Men, where he dad was the Miller and his own master. Pimple’s idea was to grind more and faster, or so he said. He’s got other mills like it. But you’ve got to have grist before you can grind; and there was no more for the new mill to do than for the old.”

The 'best leaf' that Lotho has been selling and 'sending away quietly' has been going to Isengard. Lotho is basically a local business magnate who's extensively expanded his holdings (in both agricultural land and businesses), and who has strong economic ties with a hostile foreign power.

And I think this sounds like a fairly accurate description of an imperial power gaining hold by co-opting that local magnate. He sells things the Shire needs (like food) to the foreign power for his own profit and to the Shire's detriment. Then he welcomes in paramilitaries connected to the imperial power to enhance his local power base, and mostly lets them operate with impunity. (And does not really realize that he doesn't actually have any control over them.)

And he says he's making things better by "modernizing", even when it's not actually useful and it's largely making life worse for the people who actually live in the country.

[billboard-hotties-tourney]

The Billboard Consolation Prizes

It's that time again, folks! We're about to hand out some more prizes, mostly to those who didn't make the finals. Some were predetermined, some were voted upon by you, the viewers! Cue the theme music.

Let's start off with our first award, The Powerful Mane Award. Sadly, we couldn't do the Powerful Mustache Award for this tournament, considering there wasn't a single powerful mustache in the bunch, but we had some wicked heads of hair this time. But the lady who took the prize this time was...

Chaka Khan! Tell me that you like her, you really like her.

Next up, the "Stop, She's Already Dead!" Award. This one goes to the hardest ass-kicking of the whole tourney. I almost considered calling this The Elvis Costello Memorial Award in honor of last tournament's hardest ass-kicking, but as it turns out...this girl was defeated even harder:

June Richmond! June lost in round two to Billie Holiday, receiving just 5.5 percent of the votes. So...you may not have won the battle, but you won this little graphic.

Up next: The "She's Still Got It" Award. As we said before, there were a lot more nominees this time around that were born...a long time ago, meaning there are a lot of nominees who are no longer with us. But let's hand out an award to the absolute queen who's the oldest-living woman out of 100+ living nominees...

Leontyne Price! Miss Price was born in February of 1927, narrowly beating out Cleo Laine for this spot, and she's still here today. She's been around so long that you could say that sliced bread is the greatest thing since Leontyne Price. Keep it up, girl!

Next is a voter's choice award: The Strong and Silent Girl Award. Named after Mike Nesmith, the original strong and silent girl, this award goes out to a contestant who made it to round five without any written propaganda. Since there was a four-way tie for who made it farthest without any written words, I had you lovely people vote on which was the hottest of the four. You said it was...

Marlene Dietrich! There's a non-zero chance she starred in a silent film or two, so I suppose that's fitting.

As has become tradition, we at Billboard Hotties Tourney present The Who? What?? Award. This one goes to the most obscure nominee in the bunch, the one whose presence confuses (not because of their looks, but because...who??) Last time it was awarded to Louis "Moondog" Hardin, but this time it goes to...

Ethel Smyth! Not the kind of nominee I'd ever expect to see here, and we probably never will again.

Next is the Failure to Launch Award, granted to the nominee with the most submissions...who then lost in round one. The starting pistol went off, they took a few steps, and tripped and fell. This time, the winner of this esteemed prize is...

Debbie Harry! Deborah had eleven nominations, and initially had a lead in her poll, but lost to Joan Jett by a small margin.

Here's a new one! Thanks to our more diverse cast of characters this tournament, we had enough nominees to introduce the Eurovision Queen Award. This one was voted upon by you, and went to the hottest nominee who participated in Eurovision. This one goes to...

Françoise Hardy! Miss Hardy represented Monaco in Eurovision 1963, competing the same year as fellow round one casualty Nana Mouskouri. She ultimately tied for fifth.

Up next: The Band Assassin Award. This one goes to the nominee who defeated multiple members of one band. When I realized that most of the nominees this tournament could qualify as "solo," I knew this one was going to be a little tough. However, there was one lady who was able to do it...

Grace Slick! Grace's first two wins were against Anna Mae Winburn and Carline Ray of the International Sweethearts of Rhythm.

So let's move on t

God, every time. So let's move on to the Spanish Inquisition Award, for the nominee that nobody expected to make it as far as she did. Be it a pleasant surprise or a "Pearl beating Trixie Mattel in that lip sync" gag, it's for the person who exceeded expectations. The winner of this prize goes to...

The Godmother of Rock 'n' Roll, Sister Rosetta Tharpe! Rosetta soared all the way to the quarterfinals before she was bested by now-finalist Nina Simone. Love you, Sister, nothing but respect for my president.

Our next award was a voters' choice, The Crossover Artist Award! The Crossover Artist Award goes to the hottest contestant who was also featured in this tourney's inspiration, @hotvintagepoll. This one comes from the original tourney, too, but this one was...very different. Last time, we had, hmm, five or six nominees, but this time we had a whopping twenty-four that participated in both tourneys. Some ladies, like Eartha Kitt and Diahann Carroll, were also competitors in the @vintagetvstars tournament! Is it a commentary on how women have to be able to do more in entertainment to be seen as a success? Who knows? What I do know is that the winner of this award is...

Eartha Kitt! Beating Marlene Dietrich by about five percent, you guys picked Catwoman this time...and since she won both the movie and television brackets, it only felt right that she at least get a consolation prize, right?

Here's another OG tourney award: The Robbed Icon Award. Here's where you guys get to gripe, and I love it. This one goes to the lady with the most controversial loss in the game, and the winner this time was...

Debbie Harry! Considering that she overwhelmingly won the Queen of the Shadow Realm election, this win came as no surprise to me; you guys were pissed.

Next is the Renaissance Woman Award, voted on by you! This one is meant as a companion to the Multi-Instrumentalist Award for the men, but since there were so many ladies that do more than music here, I decided to expand the title. Does she sing? Play an instrument or two? Write or produce? Act? Dance? Volunteer at the nursing home on the weekends? Probably not the last one, but you, the voters, decided that the most accomplished or well-rounded woman here was:

Dolly Parton! Singer. Songwriter. Actress. Businesswoman. Activist. What can't she do?

Here comes the Popular Kid Award! This one goes out to the nominee with the most nominations, and this time, we have a tie. Our winners are...

Cher and Linda Ronstadt! Each of these singers received sixteen nominations, a record for this blog.

Our penultimate award is the Miss Congeniality Award. I award this one to the nominee with the best/funniest fanbase. This one was a little bit hard, since the engagement was admittedly not as strong as the men's tournament (I get it, though) but when I looked back at all the propaganda, I couldn't help but pick...

Dolly Parton! Those who submitted her had such an outpouring of love for her that really couldn't compare. Wear your title with pride, Dolly, and do good alongside Mr. Congeniality Clarence Clemons.

It's time for our final award...The Not Just a Pretty Face Award, where we celebrate the thing we love these ladies for in the first place--their music. This one has a little bit of a long story. It was a write-in, just like last time, but unlike last time, the voters could not come to a consensus. We had a five-way tie for first place between Kate Bush, Aretha Franklin, Joan Jett, Stevie Nicks, and Nina Simone. A two-way tie? Sure, I can let that slide. But five? No. I had to consult the council...and by "council" I mean "my parents, my two sisters, and my half-brother." I had them vote from the final five to see who would take home this coveted prize. In a 2 to 1 to 1 to 1 vote, our winner is...

Aretha Franklin! Show her some RESPECT.

And that's it for this tournament, folks! I hope you've enjoyed participating thus far, and I can't wait to see how the finals go. Finals begin on October 1st around midnight PST.

[simply-ivanka]

Why Do the Young Vote Left?

Socialist teachers lead them to think of government as a free-money tree.

It’s the gifts. The progressive vibe is that big government will take care of you. It knows what’s best for you. It will redistribute money how it pleases. You need to put a smile on your face while it takes away your laurels, guns and money. “We believe in the collective,” Ms. Harris declared, much like Hillary Clinton’s “it takes a village.” Equity in Schenectady. Handouts for all.

You want proof? Ms. Harris’s Senate voting record is leftward of socialist Bernie Sanders. Vice-presidential candidate Tim Walz fawns over China, saying “everyone is the same and everyone shares.” Viva la revolución and Che Guevara T-shirts for all.

This is antifreedom. Too many of today’s youth fall in line with progressives because they’re undereducated and overindoctrinated with someone else’s agenda. I watched in horror as local high-school biology classes spent weeks on the science of recycling centers and only a short afternoon on mitochondria and mitosis. Profit is a bad word. It’s gimme, gimme, whether it’s student loan forgiveness, free healthcare or tax credits.

Who’s to blame? Misguided capitalism-hating social-studies teachers to start, with Tim Walzian thinking: “One person’s socialism is another person’s neighborliness.” Who is he, Mr. Rogers? Add like-minded college professors. Work ethic and ambition are evaporating.

Worse, Pew Research notes almost a third of currently childless 18- to 34-year-olds aren’t sure if they ever want children. Why? The Harris campaign’s “climate engagement director,” Camila Thorndike, is among the hesitant, telling the Washington Post, “I want to protect them from suffering.” Perpetually pessimistic progressive prognostications induce fear. No wonder U.S. fertility rates are at historic lows.

OK, I know I’m asking for trouble. Every time I write about youth, I get a chorus of comments and tweets telling me I’m an old man screaming, “Hey you kids, get off my lawn.” Yeah, yeah. Very clever. I’m not that old. But in the Kamala collective—as California attempted—private “ornamental” lawns are out, and drought-resistant vegetation is in. Progressives literally want you off your own lawn.

My conversations with young folks who do exhibit some actual drive show their confusion: “I want to do a startup.” Great! To do what? “A sustainable something or other. To save the planet.” OK, is it productive? “What’s that?” Does it scale? “Huh?” Will it do more with less? “Not really, it needs lots of money to keep going and save more of the world.” Sounds like a nonprofit. (That usually invokes a smile.) Actually, wealth comes from delivering ever-cheaper stuff to millions of people, not handouts. “I don’t care about money.”

OK, I say, but progress and societal wealth happen when you delight customers and postpone consumption to reinvest profits into better products. The looks on their faces are as if I’m describing Chinese arithmetic.

Our youth aren’t lazy but lost. Progressives have strong opinions about society but no viable solution beyond handing out other people’s money—taken from the few who actually are productive, drive progress and generate wealth by fulfilling customer needs. It’s a downward spiral: When progressives tax—screaming “fair share!”—they cripple the productive few who actually create the real non-burger-flipping, get-out-of-your-parent’s-basement jobs.

To aggressive progressives, government is simply a magic money tree. Vote left and dollars appear. The gross incompetence of government—think billions for eight electric vehicle chargers—destroyed healthcare (thank you, ObamaCare) and education (assisted by Randi Weingarten’s teachers union) and is close to destroying energy (net zero), even while the Biden-Harris administration works hard to destroy Big Tech—one of the few productive industries. And I’ll never forgive progressive Hollywood for turning “Star Wars” into unwatchable wokey Wookiee drivel.

What industries will be left standing? Who cares, because the dreamy types think generative artificial intelligence will kill all jobs and government will provide universal basic income so they can Zyn, TikTok and play College Football 25 videogames all day. A naive youthful triumphalism.

This is a false endgame. There is so much more to be invented: drugs, immunotherapy, fusion, self-folding clothes, humanoid robotics, flying cars. Hard brain work plus quality recharging leisure time is the goal, not a nation of welfare queens.

I feel sorry for the youth that do care, do work hard, are productive and help push the boulder of progress up that steep slope, while essentially carrying all the others on their backs. It’s you against the collective, the village, which is always about being supported, pampered, living off someone else’s hard work and then complaining that the handouts aren’t big enough. So, yeah, get off my lawn, while lawns are still allowed.

[sissytrainingbackuppost]

Sissy Training: Beginner’s Guide

Unlock confidence and self-expression with our comprehensive beginner’s guide to sissy training.

Introduction

What’s sissy training, you ask? Well, if you’re here, you might have some ideas about it. But let’s clear up any confusion anyhow.

Sissy training is a transformative process that involves highlighting an ultra-feminine, drastically submissive persona.

For sissies, it’s a channel to locate, accept, and show off their authentic selves.

It’s not easy to find mediums for sissy training though.

Not when society is still, shall we say, narrow-minded. But just imagine it— just how liberating will it be to express your sissified self?

Many folks out there mistakenly think that sissy training is just about humiliation.

Absolutely not! It’s about finding power in being able to act without any inhibitions. Read on to learn more!

Understanding The Term “Sissy”

Some people might flinch at the term “sissy,” — a reaction we get thanks to society’s tendency to paint it in the wrong light.

But here’s the thing: we’re not society. We’re the redefiners, and so we must call out this misconception.

Today, “sissy” isn’t a smear or an insult. It’s a badge of honor, a sign of courage and self-acceptance.

“Sissy,” in its purest form, refers to a man who drowns himself immense femininity. Why would a man want this?

Think of it like a man’s breather in a world that expects him to do manly things. Such include being strong in every situation possible.

And pretending to be strong is very draining and exhausting.

It’s a man’s way to just let go. To be more intuned with his feminine persona and to heal.

To discover aspects of himself without shame and fear. A sissy can even adopt alter egos to explore more.

Does it involve submission? Sure, it can. But it’s not a one-size-fits-all label. It’s varied and rare for every practitioner.

The Basics of Sissy Training

Right off the bat, let’s address the elephant in the room: starting isn’t easy.

Heck, even I, with all my years of experience, look back on those initial, nerve-wracking steps. But guess what?

Nothing worth achieving comes easy.

Sissy training involves every feminine thing you can imagine. Femme behaviors?

Check. Femme clothes? Check. Femme thinking? Check!

The essence of sissy training lies in understanding that femininity isn’t a monolith— it’s a spectrum.

When you choose to be a sissy, you welcome the vulnerability and softness that comes with it.

But do not ever get this wrong— this “mellowness” also develops distinct strengths.

Such involves resilience and courage. They always go hand in hand, a part of the package.

Here’s a rundown of the absolute basics you must master first before progressing your sissy training:

Immerse yourself completely in your new sissy identity to commemorate your progress!

I’m talking head-to-toe transformation. And so, here are some practical advice I’ve picked up from my very own sissy education:

Dress the Part

What’s the best and easiest way to welcome your femme side?

A closet filled with your favorite women’s clothes, of course! But don’t just get everything!

Get those that fit you perfectly. Only give space in your wardrobe for those that complement your body type.

Your garb should also reflect your femme personality.

To help you get started, I suggest starting with the basics: a nice pair of stockings, a classy little black dress, and, of course, a pair of shoes that make you feel like a queen.

If you don’t have money to splurge, invest time rummaging through thrift stores, online sales, and hand-me-downs! Adopt Feminine Mannerisms

Do you want to look like a sailor dared by his unfunny friends to wear a dress for laughs?

Of course not! Your clothes make up about 50% of your presentation, but your gestures and poise, oh— they will take that up to 100%!

How can you “adopt” these mannerisms? Simple! By observing and engaging with the women around you!

Research indicates that you subconsciously mimic those you interact with, so take full advantage of this science!

Take note of how your graceful lady friend speaks, moves, and expresses their thoughts and feelings.

Who is involved in sissy training? It includes you— a male-to-female crossdresser (aka sissy).

You’ll go through various practices to make you an ultra-fem, subservient to another party in sissy training, your dom.

Other participants are your support system. It can include your fellow sissies, mentors, and allies.

How do I start my journey with sissy training?

Acceptance is first. Then, identify your motivations and objectives. Doing so will make your journey smoother since you have a map you follow. FOR QUESTIONS AND MORE INFORMATION ON HOW TO SIGN UP FOR THE TRAINING PROGRAM Telegram: @prettysissyacademy