#yes im v basic

[pinayelf-archive]

also wondering about character origins 🤔 I wonder if it's like dao and da2 where it's explicitly told and shown what your origin is or if you just pick one with a vague-ish backstory

honestly I'm one of those ppl who didn't mind that Inquisition had vague origins bc I liked making it up (to each their own ofc) but I wouldn't mind if we played thru the origin as well

I'm also wondering if you can pick more than one background for each race and class

[ulteri0rm0tives]

'Good fuckin' riddance. One Arasaka whackjob is already plenty.'

[call-me-pup2]

Now to zoom back home, flying visit

The train home was only a couple minutes late, a record for me! :0

[merverelli]

👼🗡️ toddiel, the golden sword of the inconquerable dawn. 👼🗡️

[indigodawns]

.

[deeisace]

..

[kresnikcest]

I already knew this but yellow and purple being on opposite sides of the colour wheel... Ludger being associated with yellow (his ties, his Chromatus, and a number of his concept art colour palettes) and violet eyed Elle—

(In seriousness, this is probably more to do with Lara, but lemme sound silly for a bit 😋)

[paint-music-with-me]

.

[nobuverse]

v; Genshin ( Okita )

Origin: Inazuma

Vision: Anemo

Main Weapon: Sword

Elemental Skill: Okita harnesses the power of Anemo mainly to help her amplify her speed - and she can concentrate that into bursts of furious dashes. She can traverse short distances in the blink of an eye, allowing for both repositioning in the field and the ability to take a few piercing strikes of anemo damage before the other can react.

Elementa Burst: How much control Okita has entering her most powerful state is arguable. It comes not in a technique, but in a fever pitch of emotion or a hardened sense of determination. Sometimes, it come easily, other times, not until things become desperate.

Harnessing all of her energy allows her to push past her normal human limits in performance; making her usual short bursts of movement become a constant state. In comparison, everything around her moves slowly. Her speed and accuracy becomes truly deadly. In a matter of a less than a second, she can hit as many as three points simultaneously.

As for how long this state can last, it goes as far as she can push her body. Entering it will quickly drain her energy and put an extreme strain on her already frail body. It could be a minute, or just a a matter of a few seconds before she collapses in the battlefield.

Background

Content Warning for Death.

She can remember the trembling earth. The loud eruption of stones piercing from the earth like the teeth of an angry monster. Her parents screams. She can still clearly remember the things she wasn't allowed to talk about.

It wasn't a murder. It was an earthquake. Saying anything to the contrary would put her sisters lives in danger. The terrified child did not dare to argue with him; this member of a ruling clan who had come to discuss troop management with her father.

Arrangements were then made to separate the three siblings, each fading into a different aspect of society within Inazuma. For Okita, her home became the dojo.

Training became her life, her only focus to help her move forward. Despite being plagued with ill health throughout her growing years, she rapidly became recognized as one of Inazuma's most promising warriors in training. She became the obvious choice when it came to creating a task force to revoke visions during the decree which declared it outlawed.

Even without a vision herself, Okita was a formidable opponent to face. Used to battling illnesses for most of her life, she did not succumb to pain or fatigue. She had no issue taking the very same powers that had killed her parents away from Inazuma's citizens at first. Tears and pleas of would-be killers did not phase her.

Later, a semblance of guilt starts to build within her. She does not regret taking away such powers, but she does begin to see the effect which it has on people. Losing their memories. Their will to live. Passions and connections formed over a lifetime reduced to dust as she took away pieces of their soul.

One day, she's confronted with a horrid reality: the task of having to take a vision away from a child. Not just one, in fact, but a group of runaway children desperate to escape their fate.

Sword at their leader's throat, she remembers looking into that child's eyes clearly: rebellion and desperation represented in equal measure. While one hand held her katana, while the other wrestled and clawed at with the teenager's right. Insanely, the girl is more desperate to hold onto the vision in palm than keeping her neck away from Okita's sword.

I won't forget him! You won't make me forget my brother!

The enforcer stops struggling. Getting up, letting her go. All her doubts about her mission have risen to the surface in that moment. It's solidified, proven, when the girl looks back at her once again in confusion.

"Go. I'll fend them off."

The freedom of choice. To change. To fight against injustice. This materializes the gem of her vision at her hilt of her sword.

She now lives with both sides as her enemy. She is the prized soldier of the Tenryou commission gone rouge; and one of the most feared enforcers by the common people.

[aro-aizawa]

hi yes can someone explain to me why i am participating in behavior directly against my own self interests? im meant to be prepped for a mini vacation by now for my birthday, but instead it feels like there's nothing planned. im up at 2am continuing my nocturnal habits when i only slept like 2 hours the night before, so theoretically i should have been asleep 5 hours ago. i also am rotting in bed when i know there is shit i can do to prepare for this holiday (that im actually quite excited abt). i should also note that i think im either starting to get sick or am in the middle of it on top of my lingering ear infection.

just. why.

[dannyriccsystem]

i swear im in love w your posts and your account 😭 the way you write the drivers feels rly accurate, i had an idea for an au after i saw that video w the papaya boys looking down at the camera w their helmets on so maybe something about reader telling the drivers to 'sleep' w them only wearing their helmets 🙂‍↕️hehe no pressure 🧡

THE HELMET STAYS ON.

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER

Summary: Begging the drivers to nail you with their helmet on. And they do.

Warnings: Pure smut, Y/N usage, P in V, foreplay, reader has a tongue piercing in one of them, hair pulling, blowjob, the whole nine yards. Basically really filthy. Also not proofread because it was embarrassing enough just writing this.

Featuring: MV1, DR3, LN4, CL16, CS55, OP81

This video. Oh my days. I have nothing appropriate to say.

One more before I sleep. I’m kind of scared to post this, this is my first super out there post.

(Do feel free to request risqué stuff idm!)

MAX VERSTAPPEN - MV1

“Let me get this straight,” Your boyfriend stood in front of you as you sat, prettily perched on the edge of the bed with an innocent smile, despite what you just asked. “You,” He pointed to you. “Want me,” and then to himself. “To fuck you. With the helmet on.” He raised both of his brows.

You looked off to the side, and then back at him, nodding. “Sounds about right, yeah.” You confirmed. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but with a sigh… He reluctantly gave in. Anything for his beloved girlfriend, I guess.

“M-ahhh-x,” You groaned out his name, nails desperately clawing at his bare back for some sort of leverage. Your legs were quivering as he slowly thrusted into you, his hips moving in such a hypnotic way. Even off the track, his pace was consistent, apparently.

All of his skin was exposed, every last inch, except for his face. It was covered by his iconic helmet design, the visor pulled down to conceal the expression in his eyes. You were certain they were darkened with lust, but had no proof of it.

His hands gripped your waist, hoisting you up to get an even deeper angle. Your legs wrapped around him weakly, trying to pull him in closer. At this point, you could barely move them.

He brought his helmeted face down closer to your ear, the sound of his voice deliciously muffled by the soft casing surrounding his head, “You asked for this, lieverd.” You whined out at his typical pet name, which sounded so dirty now. You were unsure if you’d ever be able to see your boyfriend in an innocent light ever again.

Your hands grabbed both sides of his helmet, mouth drawn open in an ‘O’ as you weakly moaned for him. The sweet sounds motivated him further, allowing him to draw out his final thrusts. He pulled out, hands stroking his length as you pressed soft kisses to the surface of his helmet.

He came on your stomach. With one hand, Max lifted the visor while the other gentle traced a heart onto your cum-coated belly.

—

DANIEL RICCIARDO - DR3

“Danny?” You came out of his bedroom one day, finding him relaxed on the couch. He leaned his head over to look at you, motioning for you to continue. In your hands was the cause of confusion— His old racing helmet. The last one he ever wore, to be exact.

It was a black helmet with a sparkly flame that shined different colors depending on the lighting. You remembered him wearing it in Singapore, the last race he ever competed in. It probably held a lot of special memories. “Do you use your old helmets for anything? I see you have a few in our room.”

“Hmm, nah. Mostly just decoration.” He shrugs and turns to sit with one leg folded underneath him, the other hanging over the edge of the couch. His elbows were propped on the back as he stared at you. “Why?” He smirked almost like he could see the gears turning.

“Wanna have sex with one on?” The answer was always yes.

It wasn’t quite what you were expecting, in the best way possible. Nothing could have prepared you for the animal that your boyfriend would become upon exploding this new area of your sex lives.

He had one of your legs pushed in the air, resting over his shoulder, which allowed him more space to thrust experimentally. The other laid on the side of his thigh, your hips held up by his free hand to get a better angle. You propped yourself up on your elbows, head slightly angled down while you stared through damp lashes.

“Fuck, Danny…” You whined, your hips twitching with a little gasp. He groaned, his head falling forward until the helmet was carefully pressed against your forehead. His grip on your raised thigh was tight, practically digging into your skin to keep himself from going feral.

“Feel that?” He muttered, his voice enveloped in the cushy walls of his helmet. The hand that held you up at the waist circled around, palm pressing down on your stomach to emphasize the slight bulge. He cursed under his breath, his hips stuttering and his dick twitching. “Shit.”

He leg your leg fall against the mattress as he carefully slipped out. One hand massaged your sore folds, bringing you to your peak just as he reached his. You both climaxed together, your thighs painted with his arousal.

He carefully lifted the helmet, still panting as he looked down at the mess he made. “Satisfied?” He asked, voice hoarse. You grinned, eyes droopy.

“Very.”

—

LANDO NORRIS - LN4

There was something special about Lando in his signature green helmet. The helmet itself was bland, but it was his staple. When he wore it, it was unimaginably attractive to you.

You tried to ignore it, but during one of his week long breaks, you decided to address the issue upfront. It was a hard topic to approach, so you figured now was a good time to be as blunt as possible.

“I want to fuck you while you wear your helmet.” Literally. As blunt as possible.

He looked taken aback, and rightfully so. His eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why…” He asked next. It was hard to discern what sort of face that was supposed to be. Confusion? Disgust? Arousal? All three at once?

“Because it’s hot.”

He fell silent, and then pulled you into his room where the helmet in question sat, like it was ready for this moment.

“Not so confident now, are you?” His husky voice murmured in your ear. You were currently bent over with your hands against his bedroom door to support yourself, your ass stuck out against him. All while your legs trembled. If one of his hands wasn’t supporting you under your stomach, you’d have collapsed by now.

Strong hands gripped your hair, tugging your head backwards to get a good look at your fucked out expression, and your stretched neck that was littered with deep purple marks. All you could do was softly cry out in pleasure as a reply to his question, which earned a dark chuckle from your boyfriend.

“Regretting your choice yet?” You shook your head with teary eyes. You couldn’t see his face, cloaked beneath the secrecy of a bright green racing helmet, but you knew for a fact he was smirking. Every thrust was carried out confidently, sending a resounding smack through the room. The sounds were sticky from the buildup of arousal.

“Laan,” You drawled out his name, eyes twitching as you struggled to keep them open. You could feel another orgasm approaching— Just one of many for the night. “P-Please—”

“Please what?” Another tug of the hair, making you whimper. “Use your words, pretty.”

“Let me cum,” You whined, your voice trembling. He continued silently for another thrust or two before the hand on your stomach traveled down to massage your clit, sending you over the edge. You squealed out, lurching forward to rest against the door.

He pulled his throbbing length out, releasing onto your back. With a heavy, satisfied sigh, Lando scooped you up and gently laid you on his mattress, littering your aching body with kisses upon the removal of his helmet.

“You did so good for me.”

—

CHARLES LECLERC - CL16

Charles and you had been together for a while, and it was safe to say you knew your way around each other’s bodies. However, neither of you quite knew the other’s mind.

It was hard to pinpoint the specific kinks and such. If you were both paying attention you could figure out the little things you liked— For example, Charles liked kitten licks on the tip, and he loved you in red lingerie. And you liked sensual sex with romance and eye contact.

However, there was something you had never been able to admit until now. “Can you keep the helmet on for tonight?” He blinked at your question, already half naked and hovering over you, who was… Entirely naked.

“Keep the helmet on?”

“Yeah. Just to try it out.”

It didn’t take much convincing.

The entire experience changed when the helmet came on. Maybe you were expecting him to take a dominant stance, but it seemed as soon as the mask came on he was a whining and stuttering mess.

Charles was propped up on his elbows as you straddled his hips, grinding yourself further onto his impaled cock. He couldn’t even form a sentence, just desperately grip your hips and occasionally involuntarily thrust up into your tight heat. He was thankful for the helmet, actually. That way you couldn’t see his pathetic expression.

“Feels good,” You praised, your voice like honey. He squeezed the fat of your hips tighter, both of his index fingers anxiously tapping against your skin. He wasn’t normally so… Submissive like this.

You reached out, lifting the visor of his helmet to unveil his eyes. Just his eyes, that’s all you could see, but they told you exactly what you needed to know. With furrowed brows and a watery gaze, he made direct eye contact with you.

His hands traveled to find yours, squeezing them tight while you rode him. He could barely ground himself, but your steady presence certainly helped. “Y/N-” He finally managed to splutter out, his legs twitching and his hips jerking.

“Shh, you’re okay,” You whispered, moving your hips faster. “You got it, you’re doing great.” At your praise, he seemed to lose it, spilling deep inside you.

His body collapsed against the mattress, leaving you to carefully lift his helmet and brush his damp hair away from his eyes.

—

CARLOS SAINZ - CS55

You came home from a stressful day to your boyfriend standing in the dining room, examining his racing helmet under the light. “What are you doing?” You questioned softly as you set your things down on the table.

Her flinched, but relaxed as soon as he realized it was just you, and there was no need to be worried. “Just thinking.” You raised your brow as if asking ‘about?’ He showed you the helmet, and you just shrugged with a lack of understanding. “I want to fuck you with it on.”

You blinked at his forwardness, your gaze shifting from the helmet, and then to him. “If you’re comfortable with it, I don’t mind.”

Sex with Carlos was typically slow and sensual, just what you needed after a long day.

Not this time.

He had you folded in ways you didn’t even know were possible. Your knees were pressed to your chest, hands gripping the sheets as he fucked into you in your folded position. He hovered over you, one hand on the headboard and the other on the curve of your ass.

He grunted, but most of the noise was coming from you. “C-… Carlos!” You yelped, surprised by the change in tone. Your eyes twitched, threatening to roll back into your skull. You tried to swallow your moans, but it was impossible to keep silent.

He suddenly grabbed both of your hands, bringing them up to hold your own legs back. He busied his digits with your hole. Two fingers circled your needy clit, making your legs ache and shake. The other two slid right in with his cock, plunging in and out in a rhythmic manner.

“Feel good?” He questioned in that thick accent, ensuring your comfort over all. You couldn’t form a coherent response, leaving you to just nod a silent yes.

It seemed like ages he toyed with your poor hole, but finally he pulled free and let himself release onto your stomach. You let your legs fall to the mattress, twitching occasionally. Both of you panted as he removed the helmet, sweat dripping from his forehead. His hair was beautifully messy.

“That was…” He trailed off.

“Hot,” You finished for him.

—

OSCAR PIASTRI - OP81

You had been giggling to yourself all day as you stared at your phone. It was beginning to make Oscar anxious as he automatically assumed the worst. With sudden steeled courage, he decided to confront you.

“What have you been looking at? You haven’t stopped laughing at your phone.” His tone was calm, but inside he was slightly panicked. That is, until you turned the phone around to show him an edit. Of himself.

He had seen a few of them. Ever since him and Lando filmed that video showing off their helmets, the fans had been going crazy. “What about it?” He tilted his head, not unlike the way he did in said video. Your ovaries basically exploded.

“Do you have your helmet?” He nodded. “Put it on.”

Well, you didn’t have to tell him twice.

This… Wasn’t exactly what Oscar had been expecting. He knew you had something filthy in mind, but to suck him off while he was wearing nothing but his helmet was a little absurd, even for you.

Thankfully, he accepted the freak in you.

Your tongue darted out to give his tip a little lick, the cold metal of your tongue piercing making him twitch. He shuddered, a deep groan leaving his lips. Without even thinking, his hands grabbed the back of your head. However, he relaxed before making any sharp movements, and let it rest there for now.

You experimented further, plump lips encasing his whole tip, cheeks hollowing experimentally. He groaned, head tilted back momentarily. You looked at him through your lashes, giggling around his length when he peered back down, the movement unbearably attractive in your eyes.

You placed your hands on his thighs to balance yourself, and slowly took more of him in. He tried to keep quiet, but he could only bite back so many groans before they started to flood out. As your pace increased, his grip on the back of your head did, too.

Eventually, you weren’t even moving anymore. He was just full on face fucking you to get himself off, and you didn’t care. You let your mouth be used by your boyfriend, whose hips were jerking in and out in a spontaneous rhythm.

He finally came to a stop, his length twitching as he pulled it out. Half of his seed was shot onto your face, while the rest was expertly aimed for your mouth.

He was breathing heavily as he lifted the helmet, peering down at you with a heaving chest. “Holy shit.”

That was by far the most emotion anyone had ever gotten out of him.

[xoxbunni]

warnings: rough sex, unprotected p in v (don't recommend! trust me.), overstimulation ( just a tiny bit), hair pulling, spanking, pussy eating, squirting, creampie, crying, VERY VOCAL sex, names (slut, whore, mama, baby) i think that's it!

if you don't like these themes feel free to click out! 💞

chris heard your bed slamming against the wall as he pounded into your warm slick. "fffuck you wanted this huh? dressed like such a slut for me hm?" he said as he slapped your ass. "shut the fuck u-" you were cut off to a harsh slap on your ass.

chris rubbed your ass he slapped it again harder "say it again hm?" he whispered into your ear harshly. his cock moved quicker in you if that was even possible. his fingers moved to your clit rubbing it in circles. loud whines and moan escaped your pretty plump lips.

how did you end up like this you ask? well you thought it was a smart idea to arrive to chris's dealing party with the tiniest mini skirt ever and a tube top. and thats how you ended up face down ass up on chris's bed joints layed on the nightstand next to you guys. clients waiting for chris to sell to them, but he didn't care all he wanted to do was fuck you till you saw stars.

"mhm ngh!" you moaned as the sound of skin slapping filled the room. chris moved his hand that was rubbing circles on your clit to your lower stomach. where he could feel himself thrust into your slick. "fucking s-slut, why are you so goddamn tight" he groaned pushing his hand on your lower abdomen "ya feel me?" he asked.

you were lost in pleasure as you didn't answer your face in the pillows. chris grabbed your hair in a fist "i asked a question you dirty whore" he spat. "y-ye-yes! yes chris! s-so big!" you yelled. "uh huh" he said letting go of your hair your head falling back into the pillow. the pillow collected your pornographic moans and that pissed chris off. he wrapped his arm around your neck and made your back hit his chest, you sat up straight as his cock slammed into you.

"yes chris! please please d-don't stop!" you yelled as he basically filled you up. his arm still wrapped around you, you were basically in a headlock and it turned you on so much. your nails dug into his arm screaming his name"yeah? you want everyone to know who's dick you love" chris said. you nodded quickly. you approached your high quickly "chris! wanna cum! p-please" you whined

"go ahead mama" he whispered into your ear. you let go but chris didn't stop instead he kept on going. he flipped you over onto your back as he approached his high slipping in and out your pussy. "look at that fuck so dirty for me" he said into your ear. whimpers escaped your mouth as you whined repeatedly at the overstimulation. "where baby?" he asked rushed

"ins-inside!" you barely managed to get out. chris knew you were too fucked out to think clearly but that was one of the hottest things he ever heard you say so he did. his cum spurted out of his cock painting your walls white as you moaned at the warm feeling abrupting in your womb. chris pulled out slowly watching your cum and his mix together pooling at the sheets, he dropped onto his knees staring.

he placed his warm tongue inside you slowly thrusting in to taste you and him. your hands flew to his hair pulling. tears pierced in your eyes as you stared at him in-between your legs

"o-oh!" you moaned as your back arched for the 100th time that night. he looked up at you with eyes filled with lust. tears fell down your face, your hair messy, clothes ripped off, makeup ruined.

you quickly felt an unfamiliar feeling pooling in you. "chris-" you started as clear liquid geushed out of you falling onto the sheets, chris's face and your legs "im sorr-" you said before you got caught off "that was the sexiest thing ever" chris stated matter of factly.

"now do it again"

authors notes: not doing a masterlist rn so all written works are under the first tag!! ❤️ also send me requestsss or js talk to me!!

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter Five

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren't quirks, they're survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, detailed meltdown on-page, angst.

Notes — Another double update, go me! PSA: Our Amelia has a bit of a difficult time in this one. Take care of yourselves x

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! - Peach x

2019

WhatsApp Groupchat — The 2019 F1 Grid

Charles L. I have found an iPad in Ferrari hospitality. It is engraved with the initials A.B. Any ideas?

Lewis H. Does it have a bunny sticker on it?

Charles L. Yes!

Lewis H. That’s Amelia’s, then.

Lando N. lol I’ll come get it just gimme 10 mins im in a debrief rn 

Charles L. Sure no problem Amelia is Zak Brown’s daughter, yes?

George R. Yeah mate The smart one.

Sebastian V. Haha. She is the one Binotto wants? Brown hair, pretty smile?

Lando N. Bro.

Lewis H. @Sebastian — Mattia has tried to get her to Ferrari?

Sebastian V. Yes. He’s offered her some very lucrative opportunities. She has so far turned all of them down.

Carlos S. She’s loyal to McLaren. Leave her to us, yes?

Valtteri B. But if she ever decided to go elsewhere, Mercedes would make sense.

Lewis H. Yeah obviously 👍🏻

Lando N. ????????????

Lance S. If she was offered a million dollars to fix the Racing Point car, do you think she’d take it? Not a hypothetical. My dad wants to know.

Max V. Money won’t work. You forget she’s already the child of a millionaire.

Lance S. Damn it.

Kimi R. Is this the child always in Norris’ garage?

Lando N. Don’t call her a child we are literally the same age

Kimi R. That does not change the fact

Daniel R. But seriously, why was she even in Ferrari hospitality in the first place?

Max V. Ice cream.

Lando N. Ice cream 

Lewis H. Ice cream.

Sebastian V. I can confirm she was here for ice cream. Pistachio, specifically.

Charles L. I cannot believe I’ve still never met her. Is she really so smart?

Lando N. Yes.

Pierre G. Absolutely.

Max V. Smarter than you are capable of comprehending, Charles.

Charles L. Then I suppose I will just have to charm her into accepting Mattia’s offer 😌

Lando N. I will put in the wall, Leclerc.

Charles L. Oh! You are together with her, Lando? I didn’t know!

Lando N. No, we’re not together.

Charles L. Then I am confused.

Max V. Her father has practically forbade them from dating. Total nonsense if you ask me.

Carlos S. They are dating.

Daniel R. @Carlos 😳😳😳

Lando N. @Carlos NO WE ARE NOT STOP SAYING THAT

Sergio P. Mucho defensive…

Carlos S. He wrote his race number on her shoes.

Lando N. So what? That means nothing.

Daniel R. Oh brother….

Max V. Yeah, sorry, I can’t even back you on that one Lando. That’s a lot.

Kimi R. My wife had my number stitched into her shoes. We got married six months later.

George R. So Kimi is saying you’re basically engaged, bro.

Lewis H. Let’s stop talking about this. Before Lando has a full on meltdown.

Charles L. Too late. He has arrived for the iPad with a terrible attitude. 

Lando N. I hate all of you.

— 

Subject: Workplace Conduct Reminder – Inclusivity & Respect at McLaren

From: HR Department To: All McLaren Racing Staff Date: [Sunday, post-race, 10:42 PM]

Dear Team,

As the season continues and tensions rise both on and off the track, we’d like to take a moment to remind everyone of McLaren’s core values — collaboration, respect, and inclusion.

We are incredibly proud of the diversity across our team, from engineering to strategy, operations to communications. Every person is here because they bring something exceptional to the table — and that includes our colleagues who may experience or perceive the world differently than others.

We ask that all team members remain mindful of the following:

Neurodiversity is not a barrier — it is an asset. Please be conscious of language and behaviour that may unintentionally alienate or diminish the contributions of individuals who may process things differently. This includes members of our extended team, trusted advisors, and collaborators who work closely with us — regardless of job title or official role.

“Vibes” are not a metric — Judging someone’s energy, personality, or communication style is not only unprofessional but also unfair. Everyone representing or contributing to McLaren, formally or informally, deserves respect.

Support one another — Whether someone wears McLaren orange full-time or contributes behind the scenes, everyone here plays a part in our collective success.

Rumours are not culture — Let’s keep paddock gossip out of professional spaces. If you have concerns, we encourage you to speak directly to your manager or HR.

This message is not in response to any one incident but rather a gentle pit stop reminder: our team functions best when everyone feels seen, heard, and safe.

If you have any questions or want to speak to someone in confidence, please feel free to reach out to HR directly. We’re here to help.

Kind regards, The McLaren Racing HR Team [hr@mclarenracing.co.uk]

— 

iMessage — 11:40pm

Lando Yo, did you see the email?

Carlos Sí.

Lando Kinda hardcore. Glad Zak did something 

Carlos Somebody said something to Amelia?

Lando Yeah someone in PR idk I feel like I should know more about her stuff I feel stupid tho. Like I don’t know anything. Just that she’s Amelia yano 

Carlos I did some reading. Come to my hotel room. We eat pizza. I will teach you what I know and we can google the rest.

Lando Legend. Thanks, mate.

— 

The course he took her to wasn’t flashy — quiet, tucked away, the kind of place her dad’s friends would never be caught dead in. That was intentional. They weren’t exactly hiding their… friendship, but they weren’t trying to advertise it either.

Amelia stared down at the club he’d handed her like it was a piece of martian debris.

“This is very stupid,” she muttered. “Pointless, really.”

“It is,” Lando agreed, his lips twitching. “Just hit the ball.”

She squinted at the tiny white ball he’d settled on the grass in front of her. “Is it supposed to just… go?”

“Yes.”

“Like in a line?” she clarified, glancing at him.

He shrugged. “In theory.”

She swung. Missed.

Lando clapped anyway. “Incredible form. I’ve never seen such calculated failure.”

“It was bad,” she said seriously. “I didn’t hit the ball. I made a hole in the grass, Lando.” She stared down at the muddy crater with quiet horror.

He just gave her an encouraging nod, gesturing for her to try again.

She sighed, feeling the beginning of a stress rash creep along her neck. But she tried again. And that time, she hit it — not far, just a lazy roll across the grass — but enough to surprise herself. Lando caught the way her eyes widened, saw the exact moment the thrill overtook her frustration.

He didn’t say anything. Just handed her another ball.

They kept going like that for a while — her slowly getting the hang of it, him slipping in dumb jokes and patient explanations between swings. She never asked for help, but he noticed how closely she watched every move he made. Her eyes, always sharp, always calculating.

Eventually, she dropped to the grass with a dramatic sigh and said, “Why do people think this is relaxing? I’m hot and my legs are tired.”

Lando chuckled and sat beside her, kicking his legs out long. “I think it’s relaxing. Your dad likes it.”

“I don’t want to talk about my dad. It makes me stressed.”

“Yeah?” He asked.

She pulled at a blade of grass, rolled it between her fingers. “He told me again that it would be better if I stayed away from you. He said it would make things easier. For me. For you. For the team.” She continued. 

Lando let the silence sit for a moment before asking, his voice quiet and slightly unsure. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I want him to not worry. I want him to trust me. I want…” She hesitated, frowning at the grass. “I want to feel like I can make my own choices without feeling like I might wreck everything.” 

“You’re not wrecking anything,” Lando said. He tapped the ground next to her leg and she glanced at him, blinking. “I like hanging out with you.” He told her. 

She didn’t say anything, just flicked the blade of grass from her fingers and looked at the trees that surrounded the course. “I don’t know what I feel yet,” she said finally. “Toward you, I mean. But I know that I have liked this. Today. Not the golf. Being with you.”

Lando grinned — couldn’t help himself. Probably looked like a right knob, but he didn’t care. “Want to keep playing?” He asked. 

She gave him a look. “I might get fined for ruining so much of their grass.”

He handed her another ball. Shrugged. Smirked. “It’s fine. I make a lot of money.” 

She rolled her eyes.

— 

Amelia shut her bedroom door with more force than she meant to and leaned against it, breath caught high in her chest like she’d just ran a marathon. Her bag hit the floor. Her hands were shaking.

She didn’t know why. Except; she did.

Her body was full of something too big. Too much. A knot of heat and noise and confusion that had no exit. It felt like all the inside parts of her were pressing outward, like she might split open if she didn't stay still.

She pressed her palms hard into her eyes like she could push it all back in. But it was already too late. The thoughts were everywhere; spilled oil, tangled cords, static static static. Her brain wouldn’t quiet down. Wouldn’t give her space to think.

She’d had a good day. That was the worst part. 

Lando had been good.

He never looked at her like she was difficult. He didn’t act like she was hard work. When she didn’t catch onto something the first time, he just explained again. No sighing. No staring. No pretending. Things weren’t easy with him, not exactly, but they were lighter. Easier.

She sat hard on her bed and the tears came without warning; fast, silent, relentless.

She didn’t cry often. Usually she just shut down. Usually the wall slammed down before anything could spill out. But this time everything had slipped past it, and now she was sobbing, but it didn’t even feel like crying. It felt like her whole nervous system had shattered.

A knock at the door.

“Amelia?” her mum’s voice, soft. “We just got back. Can I come in?”

She didn’t answer. Just turned her face away and wiped at it, even though the tears kept falling. Her skin was already stinging. Her chest was tight.

The door creaked open.

“I’m not upset,” Amelia said fast, panicked. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t know why I feel like this. No. I do. I do. I just don’t know what to do with it. And I don’t want to talk about it—except I do. I do, I just—” She broke off, swallowing hard.

Her mum sat on the edge of the bed, calm. Grounding.

“I went out with Lando today,” Amelia said, too fast. “To play golf. His idea. He said we should do something fun. So I did. And it was fun. I didn’t freak out or embarrass myself. I didn’t ruin it. I didn’t ruin it.”

She dug her nails into her palms. Her face was blotchy and sore.

“He makes me feel normal,” she whispered. “Not small. Not like a problem. Just… me. And now I don’t know what I feel. I think I want him to be my friend. Or maybe something else. I don’t know. And I don’t want to know, because it doesn’t matter.”

“Why doesn’t it matter?” Her mum asked calmly.

Amelia blinked at her, and then, like someone flicked a switch, the anger surged. Hot and fast, like a fever.

“Because of Dad,” she spat. “Because he thinks that it would be a distraction. Because he thinks I’ll screw everything up just by being around. Like I’m some walking disease that’s gonna infect Lando’s entire career. I know that’s what he’s worried about the most.”

She was breathing too fast. Her limbs were twitching now, hands clenching and unclenching.

“I don’t have friends,” she said. “You know that. I’ve never had friends. Not ones that stay. I get too intense. Too blunt. Too weird. Too tired. And people always stop trying.”Her voice cracked. Her throat burned. “But Lando didn’t stop. He hasn’t stopped. And it’s still not enough. I still don’t get to have this one good thing without it turning into a problem.”

The sobs came back, messy and loud this time. She stood up too fast, swaying. Her hands started moving uncontrollably at her sides; jerky, uncoordinated. A warning sign. The meltdown was building and she couldn’t stop it, could never stop it. 

Her mum stood too, moving slow, blocking her path without touching her.

“Okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to think about any of that right now.” Her mom’s attempts to comfort her were useless against the onslaught of emotions she was feeling. 

“I’m so angry,” Amelia choked out. “I finally feel calm, I finally feel seen, and it’s not allowed. I’m not allowed to want something or feel something if it’s inconvenient for anyone else!”

She was trembling now. Her skin felt wrong. Her body wasn’t hers anymore. She wanted to rip it off. She wanted to scream and break things. Instead, she clenched her fists and shook and shook and shook.

“Do you want me to get your things?” her mum asked, voice calm, anchoring.

Amelia nodded hard. “Yes. My weighted blanket. And the golf ball. It’s in my bag. Lando bought it for me and I want to hold it. It’s yellow.”

“I’ll get everything,” her mum said gently.

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” Amelia shouted, the volume jarring even to herself. “I’m trying so hard. All the time. I’m always trying.”

“I know,” her mum said. “And I’m proud of you. Every day.”

Amelia slid to the floor. Her body folded in on itself, hands clawed into her sleeves, breathing uneven.

The noise in her head kept rising.

Usually, this was when she wanted her dad. Wanted him to sit next to her. Watch a race in silence. Be there without asking anything of her.

But not now.

Now, all she wanted was for him to stay far, far away.

— 

It was almost midnight.

Her room was quiet now; weighted blanket pulled up to her chest, lights off, only the soft blue glow of her phone screen lighting her face. The golf ball sat in her right hand, warm from where she’d been holding it for hours. She kept rolling it between her fingers, feeling the small ridges, the smoothness. Grounding.

She had stopped shaking, but her body was aching like one big bruised muscle. 

She stared at the message thread with Lando, her thumb hovering, retreating, hovering again.

She didn’t know what to say.

Everything in her head still felt too big. Too messy. But the quiet between them was worse. Not bad, not uncomfortable, just... unfamiliar. She wanted to talk to him. 

Finally, she started typing. 

— 

iMessage — 10:11pm

Amelia I didn’t enjoy golf very much. But I liked being with you. Thank you for inviting me.

Lando Norris I’m glad you came anyway We had fun though, right? I had fun :)

Amelia Yes, I had fun. It was confusing. But in a good way. I liked learning something new.

Lando Norris I liked today too You were kind of great We should do more new things together. Just us

Amelia Maybe. I feel strange tonight. My head is a bit loud.

Lando Norris That’s alright

Amelia Do you think if I asked you questions about your Formula Three races… you would answer them?

Lando Norris Absolutely I’d love that Haven’t talked about F3 in ages Might be nice to remember

Amelia Okay. What did it feel like the first time you won?

Lando Norris Like my hands knew before I did Like the whole world stopped for one second so I could catch up It felt… right. Like I was exactly where I was supposed to be ya know 

Amelia Oh

Lando Norris: You okay?

Amelia: I forgot all the questions I had for you. Sorry.

Lando Norris That’s okay. Don’t worry. Your brain’s probably sleepy. It’s late Are you tired?

Amelia Yes. I got upset earlier for no reason and it’s made me tired I’ll go to sleep now. Thank you for texting me back. Goodnight.

Lando Norris You don’t have to thank me for that I like talking to you Feel better soon, yeah? Goodnight x

— 

The house was still, the kind of stillness that only came after a storm.

Tracy sat on the couch in the dark, legs curled beneath her, a half-cold mug of tea resting in her hands. She hadn’t moved since she’d come downstairs after leaving Amelia. The couch blanket was draped over her shoulders, but she still shivered slightly, not from the cold, but from the heavy weight of witnessing her daughter’s pain. 

Zak entered quietly, the door clicking shut behind him. He didn’t speak at first. Just stood in the doorway, tie loose, shoulders slumped, guilt etched deep into the lines around his eyes. After a long moment, he crossed the room and sat down beside her.

Tracy didn’t look at him. Just murmured, “She’s asleep now. I checked a minute ago.”

Zak nodded slowly. “She didn’t ask for me.”

“She didn’t want to be touched. Didn’t want help. Just needed space.” Tracy’s voice cracked, but she kept it steady. “She was barely holding on, Zak. I haven’t seen her like that in a long time.”

“I didn’t mean to make it worse,” he said too quickly. “I just… I thought I was protecting her.”

“I know you did,” Tracy replied gently.

Zak stared at the floor. “I didn’t think it would hurt her like this. I thought—” He faltered. “I thought keeping her away from Lando would keep things simple. Keep her safe. From getting hurt. Or confused. Or from people talking. From getting her hopes up.”

“You didn’t trust her,” Tracy said. Not accusing, just honest.

Zak exhaled hard. “No. I didn’t trust him.”

Tracy finally turned to look at him. “But he’s been good to her. You’ve seen that, surely.” 

“I have,” Zak admitted, tersely. 

“But it wasn’t on your terms,” Tracy said. “So you didn’t like it.”

Zak didn’t argue.

“She’s not a problem to solve, Zak. She’s our daughter. And she’s doing something incredibly brave. She’s opening up. She’s connecting. That’s huge for her.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “God, I know. I just…” He broke off, ran a hand through his hair. “Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t it have been someone safer?”

“Because love isn’t safe,” Tracy said. “And friendship isn’t simple. And if you’re lucky enough to find someone who makes you feel okay in your skin, even just for a little while, that’s not a risk for someone like her. That’s a lifeline.”

Zak leaned back, scrubbing a hand over his face. He looked hollowed out. “I feel like I’ve completely blown it.”

“You haven’t,” Tracy said gently. “But you will if you keep pushing like this. If you keep trying to prevent something that is starting to seem pretty much inevitable.” 

Zak was quiet.

“She loves you,” Tracy added. “But she can’t keep fighting you on this. Not when she’s also fighting herself. That kind of pressure… it’ll break her.”

That landed like a stone. He blinked against the sting in his eyes and nodded, slow and tired. “Okay,” he whispered. “Yeah. Okay. Fine.”

Tracy leaned into him and kissed the rough edge of his jaw. “You’re a good father, Zak. She knows that. She’ll forgive you.”

Zak didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the dark hallway.

“She didn’t ask for me,” he said again, softer this time. Raw. Frayed.

Tracy sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. “I know, honey.”

— 

The flat was quiet, except for the hum of the fridge and the occasional thump of bass through the wall from the upstairs neighbours. Lando sat cross-legged on the sofa, eyes unfocused on the muted Rally Car stream playing on the TV. Max was in the kitchen, one sock on, microwaving some disastrous smelling leftover curry.

“You ever liked someone,” Lando said suddenly, not looking up, “so much that even the idea of them ruining your life doesn’t sound that bad?”

Max made a noise that landed somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “Christ, mate. What brought that on?”

Lando shrugged. “Dunno. I’ve just been thinking.”

“About Amelia?” Max asked, already knowing. He padded over and dropped into the armchair opposite, bowl in his lap.

Lando exhaled slowly. “I really fucking like her. It doesn’t make sense. She’s, I mean— Jesus, I don’t know. Feels like I can breathe right around her, you know?”

Max didn’t answer right away. Just stirred the curry and watched the screen for a second. Then, gently: “Yeah. I get that. But... Come on, mate. You sure this isn’t a bit too much, too fast?”

Lando looked over. Frowned. “What do you mean?”

Max shifted, trying to find words. “It’s not just about liking someone. It’s about who she is. Like, she’s your boss’s daughter. That’s... not insignificant here.”

“I know that.” Lando bit back. 

“Okay. But do you really know what it means? If something goes wrong, if it ends, and ends messy, it’s not like you can just walk away. There’s no possibility of a clean break with her.” 

Lando was quiet, but his jaw tightened.

“I’m not trying to scare you off,” Max added quickly. “I just... I know how much you’ve worked for this. Since you were, what, six? Your whole life’s been about driving. Being the best. And now you’re closer than ever.”

“I’m not giving up racing,” Lando snapped, defensive before Max even finished.

“I didn’t say you were,” Max snapped right back at him. “I just don’t want you to stop being Lando Norris: F1 driver and become Lando Norris: the guy who fucked around with his boss’ daughter, you know?”

Lando stared down at his hands. He felt like a piece of shit as he said, “Zak’s basically said the same thing. So has my dad.”

Max nodded. “‘Cause we’re all thinking the same thing, mate.” 

Lando rubbed his hands over his face and pulled his hood up. “Maybe you’re right,” he mumbled. “Maybe this isn’t... good timing.”

Max didn’t say anything. He just went back to eating, quiet again.

And Lando hated that suddenly it felt like all of their reasons made sense.

— 

The air was different now. Cooler. Thinner. The sun still came through her window in the morning, but it didn’t cling to the walls the same way. The trees had started to shift, just barely, into that pre-autumn colour. And Amelia felt like she was holding her breath all the time. For something. For nothing.

She hadn’t spoken to Lando for days. Not since she'd sent him a photo of the coffee shop in town that had spelled her name wrong again, and all she got back was a laughing emoji. No reply. No question. Just that.

It felt like a door closing very slowly. 

She was sitting in the bay window of her bedroom, blanket around her shoulders, golf ball in one hand and her phone in the other. It was the fourth time she'd opened their chat and closed it again. The most recent messages sat there like ghosts. 

—

iMessage — 9:04am

Amelia Hope you’re not too tired from training. 

—

Read. Two days ago. No response.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure what to write that wouldn’t sound… needy. Or hurt. Or desperate. God, she hated the idea of being too much. It made her skin itch. She didn’t want to become exactly what people were always assuming that she’d be.

She pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to steady her breathing, her thoughts, her everything. But it hurt in a way she didn’t understand; this slow, quiet loss. It hurt in a way she didn’t have a name for. It felt a lot like emptiness.

“Don’t spiral,” she whispered to herself, rocking gently, rhythmically. “Don’t spiral. Don’t spiral.”

But it felt like she already was.

— 

Both McLaren cars DNF’d in Belgium; the first race back after the Summer break.

She’d written it down two hours before lights out — in the margin of an old notebook, under a page of technical notes she hadn’t meant to be looking at anymore. The exact reason. The probable lap. A strange little instinct that curled in her gut and told her today’s not going to go the way they want it to.

She closed the notebook and put it back in the drawer, and told herself it didn’t matter.

Nobody would ever know. Nobody would ever ask. Because she wasn’t in the garage. Wasn’t in the paddock. Wasn’t even watching from the hospitality suite like she always did, like clockwork.

She was in Woking. In her bedroom. As far from Lando’s garage, from the paddock, as she could possibly be.

And on the TV, when the Sky Sports commentator mentioned her absence like it was some small anomaly (“No sign of Amelia Brown in Norris’ McLaren garage today. Odd, considering she rarely misses a weekend”) she didn’t feel flattered or seen or missed.

She felt sick.

Like the air got thinner the second they said her name.

So she turned it off.

Just like that.

The screen went dark. The sound cut out. And for the first time in ten years, she didn’t watch the entire race.

Not because she didn’t want to. 

But because it hurt too much.

NEXT CHAPTER

[tojisun]

my baby swingin’ — simon (ghost) riley

biker!simon (ghost) riley x fem reader

> a bunch of snapshots of simon and his pretty little sweetheart’s adventures.

!! suggestive - minors dni; canon divergence; no chronological order (basically a bunch of loosely-tied worldbuilding); subtle and hinted age difference; reader gets princess treatment because she deserves it so!!

: im the one who’s the most confused as to how my obsession with biker!simon started but im stringing u along anyway so pls have fun!! my inbox is open for brainworms <33

for all posts, pls click on biker!simon tag <33

part 01 - intro post; headcanons

part 02 - simon can’t wait to come home to you

part 03 - getting over your fear of riding a bike

part 04 - lap sitting (a visual); ask

part 05 - simon and your first meeting; ask // extra 01

part 06 - little donuts at the park <;33

part 07 - simon’s instagram account (includes visuals); ask

part 08 - teasin’ each other on their way home; ask; suggestive

part 09 - body worship (a visual); ask; suggestive

part 10 - getting over your fear of riding a bike sequel! (a visual); ask

part 11 - mutual desperation spilling over; smut

part 12 - burning from all these messages; smut

part 13 - scary mask!! (a visual); ask

part 14 - of prince charming and care packages

part 15 - scary ghost? yes. protective ghost? yes <;33; ask

part 16 - safe drive!; ask

part 17 - simon and your first meeting cont.; ask; smut

part 18 - fun times on his bike; ask; smut

-

extra 02 - your nephew’s new favourite adult (a visual); ask

extra 03 - biker!konig makes an appearance!!! (a visual); ask

extra 04 - smack! smack! smack! (a visual); ask

extra 05 - picking up the backpack (a visual); ask

extra 06 - you don’t use it, you lose it; ask

extra 07 - price on a harley; ask

extra 08 - helmet kiss (a visual); ask

extra 09 - ‘girls cum first’ sweater (a visual); ask; smut

extra 10 - tf141 and their shared backpack princess; ask

extra 11 - period cramps and cuddling; ask

extra 12 - of checkpoint videos & dashing men (a visual); ask

extra 13 - no backpacks allowed (a visual); ask

extra 14 - he slipped!! (a visual); ask

extra 15 - her famous luvr; ask (a visual)

extra 16 - keys and kisses; ask

extra 17 - simon announcing his girl (includes visual!); ask

extra 18 - careful now (a visual); ask

extra 19 - they’re friends??

extra 20 - pretty blue lace; ask; smut

extra 21 - dad!simon (a visual); ask

extra 22 - lil smut (a visual); ask

extra 23 - riding on the rain (a visual); ask

extra 24 - girl dad simon; ask

extra 25 - gorgeous and protective (a visual); ask

extra 26 - zip that shit up (a visual); ask | recent!

-

dear john - dbf!simon

↳ for all toxic/dbf simon pls click on dbf!simon tag!!

toxic dad’s best friend biker!simon au; ask; angst + smut

‘dear john’: cont. of toxic dad’s best friend biker!simon au; ask; angst + suggestive

mini cont of dear john; ask

dear john (but it’s john price); ask

dear john (how he fucks); smut

dear john (as illicit affairs); ask; angst + smut

dear john (illicit affairs origin); angst + smut

dear john (illicit affairs origins but as reader); ask; angst + suggestive

dear john (reader moving on); ask | recent!

-

subset 01 - best friend n biker!simon au; ask

subset 02 - best friend n biker!simon au cont.

subset 03 - bimbo!reader

unofficial extra - baker!simon

-

i have a short taglist so pls lmk if you would like to be tagged too ^v^ no more taglist

(updated: 16 march 2024)

[militaryapple]

YOU AIN'T MY BOYFRIEND!

synopsis. your best friend wont speak to you and her best-brother-friend is becoming an issue, so to clear your head you go to a party! that should help, right? part 1

cw. fem!reader, face fucking, cunnilingus, oral (receving & giving), p in v pls stay protected babes, fingering like a mofo, i miss u caleb come home

add ons. lwk not my best work sorry guys im getting out of a rlly bad slump ilya thanks 4 being so patient better fics coming soon and putting up w my stuff haha lul. also hi me back

wc. 2.9k

one week.

it’s been one week since you last saw your best friend — since you’ve last talked to her.. and rightfully so! you mean, she did kinda find you and her childhood friend-brother fucking inside your shared dorm. after that, she’s been purposely ignoring you and hiding away from you.

she was doing a real good job at it too, when you woke up; she was gone. classes? she was almost 30 feet away from you! your classes ended? she was no where to be found. you weren’t upset at her, you understood, you just really missed your best friend. you two started college together and you didn’t want to leave alone.

while the real issue was prominent in your life now. caleb wouldn’t leave you alone after that day. so what if he confessed how much he liked you and used your best friend to cover up that crush because everyone had thought they would be the perfect match to the point that if he stood next to you for too long it’d be seen as weird? you never said you liked him back! okay well you did say you loved him but — you two just fucked! it was supposed to be like a casual-fling thing!

well, that’s what you thought. okay, so what if you liked him a tiny bit? you’ve known him for like ever! he was a sweet guy and all but he was distracting you from the real issue - getting your best friend back. and having him all over you every day of the week wasn’t helping you.

you curled up in caleb’s bed, staring at your phone. he settled beside you and put down a cup of tea on the table in front of the bed. “i’m telling you,” he huffed out “staring at your phone won’t make her magically text you back. she’ll be okay, she’s going to get over it.” caleb picked his cup up and took a sip out of you. god how you wanted to punch his handsome face.

you had a love-hate relationship with him at the moment. okay, he wasn’t helping the problem but he was helping you! and that counted as something.. right? like, emotionally and physically he was helpful. you two just didn’t have a label, it’s just.. casual! yes! very very very casual.

“i know,” you whined “i just.. she won’t even look my way! this is all your faulttttt..” you sob. caleb put down his cup and scrolled on his phone, using his free hand to rub your back while you buried your head in your legs. “yeah yeah blame it all on caleb.” he rolled his eyes comforting you. caleb’s eyes lit up and he looked at you.

“you know what you need?” he said shaking your arm gently, “a party. a good little night-to-forget-everything outing!” he beamed happily. you looked up at him pouting and kicking him away. “what’s the point?” you groan and turned around, picking at the white wall now in front of you. “i don’t have my best friend, no one to go with, my life is basically as good as dead.” you mumble.

caleb rolled his eyes and grabbed your shoulders, bringing your back to his legs. “did you forget that you have yours truly? mr cool, sexy, and awesome? future pilot?” he raised an eyebrow pointing to himself.

“well mr cool, sexy and annoying got me in this predicament!” you retaliated rolling off the bed and grabbing the tea that was made for you, taking a sip. it was good, but it was caleb’s making so that wasn’t new. he got up and put his shoes on, making his way to his door pushing you alongside with him. “and mr annoying is telling you that what you need is a day to yourself. come one, i’ll help you pick out something and we’ll go together. by the end of tonight you’ll be worried-free. trust me.” he hummed in delight.

well, it was a good offer. you did have essays and projects due tonight but again, you would stress yourself out more — plus knowing caleb, it was either going out with him or having him help you study with a possible chance of a hangover at your 8 AM class due to your own self loathing. either way, you were getting fucked up one way or another. you reluctantly accept your defeat and agree to his plan. “fine.” you scowl, “but at least make sure i don’t look crazy tonight.”

when you both got back to your dorm, it was empty. she wasn’t here, she was probably with her boyfriend rafayel. it wasn’t shocking, it’s where she’s been staying every other night when she can, obviously you weren’t snitching since.. you practically owe her. you brush away the thoughts about your best friend and start heading to your closet digging deep for something, anything to wear.

“too bright”, “too much”, “where are you going? to a ball?” every outfit met with some sort of tantalizing line from caleb. you flopped on your bed defeated. if caleb was going to be this picky with your outfits you weren’t going to go, maybe self pity drinking was a good idea after all, just skip your first class and make up the work when you’re not hungover.

caleb was in your closet, picking and throwing things around. “if you really hate my closet, then i’m not going.” you groan, digging your head into your pillow. that was until caleb popped up with a dress in his hand. “found it!”

you changed in your room after kicking him out. it was already 7:00, and the party started at 9 — of course caleb had a couple of things to do before going. you walked out, twirling while he stared in approval. “absolutely stunning.” he mumbled, his gaze wrapping around your body.

he couldn’t take his eyes off you, the way the dress draped down your body but held so snugly to your curves. how the color complimented your already glowing skin, and nicely done hair. maybe it was how you spun, so lightly; like you were floating on air. jesus, was he so in love with you.

but again, no labels.

you scurried to get your shoes and purse, walking out your dorm with caleb and making your way to his car. he had drinks in the back with a couple of other things, making stops along the way to the house. you could catch him glancing at you from time to time and all you could do was just shift to your side.

caleb was fucking sexy. he knew this — you knew this. you just, were conflicted. him or your best friend! well.. ex best friend? it was all confusing. he was never into you, never all that interested in your life or how you were anyways. it was just.. new? random? you looked back at him, looking over his body then back to the road. maybe that’s where the issue lies, maybe he’s your issue.

“i can feel your eyes ‘yknow. sending chills down my spine.” he glanced over at you, eyes quickly going back to the road. “what’s on your mind?” he asked, slowing down the car to give you both enough time to talk about whatever.

“it’s fine, just keep driving.” you brushed him off, and he frowned, looking back at you and nudging your arm with his. caleb looked back at the road and started to drive normally again like you asked but he started to get persistent. “come on, talk to me. you can’t just look at me and go ‘i’m not thinking of anything!’ when you so obviously were.”

he got you there.

you huffed and looked out your window, your gaze fixed on the passing trees and grass. “it’s just,” your hands start to fiddle around “you seem to be so.. interested in me now. it’s weird. you weren’t like this before and i don’t know —” you were starting to stammer but caleb cut you off quickly.

“are you ‘doubtin my love? i told you, i’ve loved you ever since i met you. it was hard getting close to you and.. look, you aren’t some second option to me, alright?” he seemed worried, he sounded worried, yet you didn’t want to look at him. you were too afraid to anyways. were your feelings always this confusing?

the ride to the party was silent, you both getting out. caleb grabbed onto you staring at your outfit, then looking at your pretty face. “call, text or find me when you wanna leave okay? don’t do anything stupid, i’ll keep an eye on you.” he held your face and placed a kiss on your forehead.

no label. just really close friends.

the party was loud, the lights flashed every which way. you made your way past people and found yourself at the kitchen and poured yourself a drink, if you were alone you might as well drink, right? you poured yourself a cup of whatever you grabbed first. eyeing down people at the party.

it wasn’t long until you spotted her. your best friend. she was with rafayel. her boyfriend who was your ex boyfriend, did you forget that part? fuck you really didn’t want to run into them both. not like this — you wanted to talk to her but not in a place where you could be publicly shamed, god you felt embarrassed.

you moved towards the next room, finishing your drink in one swift gulp. you found some other friends of yours and started to talk and dance with them, joking and laughing. you don’t know when but the topic of relationships had been brought up and you sighed. “well,” your friend chirped, “why don’t you just do a one night stand? that guy over there” you turned your head and spotted the guy your friend talked about. he was tall, lean and cute. wasn’t anything special, right?

you made your way over, and started talking to him. you flirted and giggled, batting your eyes occasionally.

you were having a nice time until caleb noticed. he made his way over to you and pulled you away from the guy. you couldn’t make out what he was saying to him, maybe it was the music or the excessive amount of alcohol you had. “caleb its fine, really. i started to talk to him” you groan, pushing him away.

caleb looked down at you, he felt hurt somewhat.

just friends. no labels.

fuck that.

caleb grabbed your arm and brought you upstairs, bringing you into an empty room and locking it. the music diluted while he sets you down. he placed his hands on his head before letting out a long sigh. you couldn’t help but frown and stand up, wobbling a bit before catching yourself. “what if your problem?” you snarled at him “you’re acting like i’m your fucking girlfriend. there was nothing wrong with me talking to him” you groaned.

“i don’t understand” caleb bit back, “you told me you love me, and now you’re saying that me returning the feelings is weird? and now you’re talking to other guys? you aren’t my girlfriend but, i thought,” he started to stammer. he moved closer to you, holding you while you looked back up at him.

you looked away. you were confused about how you felt, about everything! fuck, you didn’t know what to do. you did like him, you didn’t want to lose your best friend which you might aswell give up on. caleb cupped your face with his hand, “hey, im sorry. i didn’t mean to-” you kissed him before he could finish. your mouth clashing on to his.

fuck it, if she wanted to play dirty you could play dirty. your best friend didn’t own caleb, let alone anything of the sort. she should’ve been happy! she could’ve had the best sister-in-law a girl could ever had.

caleb didn’t object. his hands wandered from your face to your hips, pulling you closer to him. he couldn’t help but let out a small moan before settling down on the nearby bed. you stood between his legs, looking down on him while he looked up at you. his hands fixed on yours hips.

“let me show you how much i love you, please baby.” he placed a kiss on your arm, his eyes big and glossy. fuck, he was so pretty like this, you agreed and pushed him up on the bed, moving on top of him.

you moved to the top of his face, settling down. he grabbed your thighs and pulled your entire weight down on his face. “let me make you feel good baby,” he coo’d using a hand to push your panties to the side.

caleb licked your folds, his hands finding their way to your already wet cunt, rubbing circles around your nub while his mouth placed nasty kisses around your slit.

your hands gripped on his hair while your hips rocked to the motion of his mouth and fingers. his kisses soon turned into nasty wet sucks. his fingers finding their way inside your sobbing cunt, pushing in and out. the feeling only making you quiver and beg on top of him.

“i know baby,” he coo’d “making you feel real good.” sucking on your nub, and planting his nth kiss on your sloppy entrance. he could eat you forever. you were sweet, delicious. caleb’s free hand made its way up your dress, grabbing on your breast while you cried and rutted against his face.

“caleb please make me cum, ‘cmon make me cum,” you begged. his mouth picking up speed as he kissed and stretched you. feeling your hips buck up he slid his digits out, watching your cunt cry in pleasure. you got up, and caleb followed. he sat up at the edge of the bed while you got down in between his legs.

you moved your hands down to his pants, undoing them and tugging his waistband down. god was he big. his tip was swollen, practically begging for you.

you saw the pre-cum that leaked from his slit and you couldn’t help but give it kisses. caleb groaned, his hands wrapping around your hair. “fuck baby, yeah that’s it, you got it pretty girl.”

you looked up at him, swirling your tongue around his tip. you used your free hand to pump him, moaning into his cock.

you relaxed your jaw, you were finally starting to feel okay — and caleb took that as a sign. he held on your head and slammed into your mouth. his hips violating your pretty little mouth. his hands wiping away the tears that formed around your eyes.

he rammed into your mouth, letting out apologies and stifled cries. “you’re so fucking pretty” he sobbed, “you’re all i think about, fuck, when i get off.” the mere thought of him palming himself making your eyes roll back.

his cock tightened, and his hips started to stutter. moving your hand up and pumping him. he fucked into your mouth stupidly, holding your mouth down for a moment while his hips stopped.

he let you go and you moved back, gasping for air and moaning. “come here,” he pulled you up and sat you on his lap. you could feel his cock twitch between your neglected cunt, it only made you whine. “caleb,” you sobbed, “please, don’t tease me, please,”

how could he say no? you asked so nicely.

he picked you up and positioning himself with your entrance then sliding his cock into you. fuck, you felt filled. he stretched you out so nicely, you moan at the feeling, holding on to his arm while you squirm and buck your hips up.

caleb thrusted into you, holding your hips down while his cock hit your cunt in all different angles. “i fucking love you,” he bit down on your neck, sucking it and marking you. “i love you - i love you i love you,” was all you could mutter. your hips bucking against the friction.

he didn’t let you go, he couldn’t. his tip kissed your cervix, making you dig your nails into his back. caleb moved his hands to your sensitive cunt, rubbing circles around your nub while thrusting into you, picking up the pace.

caleb brought his free arm around you, flipping you down on the bed and rolling his hips making you practically cry. your head dug into the pillow while caleb leaned down to place small kisses along your back.

his thrusts becoming fast and his pace becoming wrecked. he hit your sweet spot deeper at this angle, “you’re so pretty, i can’t help it oh my god you’re so gorgeous.” he grabbed your hands holding them behind your back.

you clenched around his cock, begging as you lifted up your head. your body started to shake and your back arched at the feeling. “caleb ‘m gonna - oh fuck please please baby please,” you sobbed out for him.

“gonna cum? come on sweet girl, you can do it. cum for me,” he rutted against you. his body snapping into yours. you felt like you were in another world hearing him say that. you twitched as his thrusts began to slow down.

you tensed around his cock, shaking as his hips spurted. he looked at you, admiring the mess he made before finding his breath.

no labels your ass. you were going to have to figure out what to do tomorrow — what to say! oh fuck it. you were going to skip class tomorrow and stay bed ridden, it wasn’t like you were going to be able to get up anytime soon anyways. caleb was quick to fix himself up, then tend to you.

yeah. you were definitely going to have to figure out what to do tomorrow. especially with him.

[curseofbreadbear]

[Callum breathed a sigh of relief when PG booted up normally, logging the previous crash report. He'd created Phone Guy; he knew that PG would "wake up" just fine, but he couldn't help his irrational worries.]

[He shook his head firmly when PG apologized; if anything, his crashes were Callum's fault alone. He'd been procrastinating on updating hardware that was likely corroded or damaged to some degree by now -- PG had been around for decades, after all. If Callum had simply kept himself detached, as he often did, then Phone Guy would be in perfect, working order right now.] ❝ Don't blame yourself. I've needed to give you a proper update for a while now. I've just been... ❞ [Callum sighed, unable to deliver the news point-blank.] ❝ I've been busy. I'm sorry. ❞

[There had been a number of customer complaints, but again, PG was fragile. A task as simple as downloading them might cause another crash. Besides -- concerning himself over the Pizzaplex's customers shouldn't be a focus for either of them at the moment.] ❝ Don't concern yourself with that. I've already followed up with the guests myself. ❞

[Free passes for their favorite attractions, a cup of tokens, a Freddy plush...any one of those prizes seemed to shut them up. He cared about giving their guests the best experience possible, of course, but he cared far more about repairing Phone Guy.]

[A troubled expression fell over Callum's face as PG elaborated on what might be causing these errors, and how he could fix them. Even restricting Phone Guy to smaller crowds would be a temporary solution -- eventually, he'd start breaking down over a lone request if it was too complex. Again, there was only one optimal solution here.]

❝ I've observed the same issue. I can increase our efficiency in other ways; for the moment, I'll limit you to interacting with smaller crowds. ❞ [That wasn't necessarily a lie. After he refreshed PG's systems, he would gradually introduce the bot to bigger and bigger crowds, guaranteeing that he was in tip-top shape before he tackled anything huge.]

[Callum looked away briefly, a moment of weakness. They shouldn't be discussing trivialities right now. This would be the last moment he could share with his beloved creation.]

❝ ...As I said, don't concern yourself over today's crash, nor the others. If I was upset with you, you would know. ❞ [A few times now, he'd lashed out at the other animatronics for their screw-ups, but not PG. Never PG.] ❝ I want to...thank you. For all of your hard work. For being my closest friend. You've done a wonderful job. ❞

[His words would definitely hint at what this interaction truly was, but he didn't want to admit it outright. He couldn't bring himself to.]

PG isn’t stupid. In fact, with the updates and special attention that has been paid to him by a man as brilliant as Mr. Crown, he doesn’t think it’s bragging to say that he’s one of the cleverest animatronics under Faz. Ent.’s ownership— perhaps even in the world.

So he knows that things aren’t good, right now. One only has to scan through his self-made error reports to see how bad things have gotten, and that doesn’t include any glitches or malfunctions that his internal systems couldn’t manage to log.

In short, he’s broken.

“Hello, Mr. Crown. Crash report ‘0x10add4832’ has been logged. System reboot successful. System functioning normal.”

I feel scared.

“…I’m sorry. That was inexcusable of me.” To embarrass Callum by malfunctioning in front of so many guests… PG is extremely disappointed in itself.

“Were there any customer complaints? I can follow up once we’re done here.”

It falls silent, observing Callum. Something’s… off. Mr. Crown’s bioscan is notable, which can’t be good, considering the situation. Anger? Frustration? Just how many complaints did they receive about PG’s little breakdown?

Shame-like programming flashes through the robot. He loves Mr. Crown; disappointing him is worse than any other punishment protocol.

“I do not understand why I am experiencing malfunctions so frequently. But I have gathered data about the errors. I think that if I avoid interaction protocols with crowds of seven or more, I will be less likely to— mess up. Um. I know that this will impact efficiency, though.”

Thoughts, Mr. Crown?