#i love you rain mwah mwah mwah!!

[spiderversegf]

small joy saturday :3 u & me have been mutuals for 2 years!! and everyday that im reminded of you my pupils turn into wee hearts <33 thanku thanku for all the love and smiles u've given me and so soso many others caspian!!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!!

AAAAAAA rain i couldn’t wait to post this one i love u sooooooooo much!!!! KISSIN U!!!!!!!

[hollypies]

@reveks !!!! Gift !! For you!!!

Changed Calm Petals design a bit haha. I think she'd be friends with Dew that Lingers :]

Dew That Lingers belongs to reveks ! I gave Dew some sequin pants cuz I thought it'd be cool

[dragonpropaganda]

Not what i was thinking i was gonna post on halloween, but this software is so fucked up it’s scary. Gotta say, the way rain world levels work is utterly fascinating to me. Like, technically and visually. It’s important to note rain world is a 2.5d game here. Let’s get an image example: GW_A24 (which stands for garbage wastes single screen room 24 in room file shorthand)

Note the 3-dimensionality of the space, as well as survivor’s shadow on the curved stone pillar behind it. This is rendered as 2.5d in the gamespace. Now let’s look at the room render in the files:

A... flat .png image? Yes. Rain world renders this 2.5d world from a red depthmap. The overbearing redness may stick out, far from the browns and toxic greens of the room in-game. This is because the game applies palettes

In the bottom left corner, see the palette menu, note the fade palette? yes, rooms get not one but two palettes to play with, which gives much more colour depth and variance in a region.

toning down the toxic fade palette, we get nothing but the sun-bleached grey palette 9, and turning it up...

Yeowch! The toxic hues in full force. Obviously this palette, palette 11 couldn’t be used like this, but with palette 9 as a moderator, it manages to show the intense pollution of the garbage wastes.

Now, as for the origin of the png image, it is created in the rain world level editor. To someone who has not used the level editor, this may seem simple. To someone who has, the mere mention may bring a tear to their eye.

the editor is split into quite a few editors, but here is the most relevant one for this, the tile editor.

One look at this and you might think “hey, those assets look like they were drawn in MS paint, where are my 2.5d objects? And where are the objects lying on the floor?” To answer this, i must elaborate. The tile editor shows previews of the tiles. the actual models, or to resort to technical vocabulary, voxelstructs, would be too impractical to render within the tile editor. The models are, too, stored as pngs, descending from the closest layer to the furthest, with the editor symbol positioned last. As an example, have the “big brick” tile that features prominently. The amount of times a layer repeates is controlled in the tile’s line in the init (ie: [#nm:"BigBrick", #sz:point(2,2), #specs:[1,1,1,1], #specs2:0, #tp:"voxelStruct", #repeatL:[1, 1, 1, 7], #bfTiles:0, #rnd:1, #ptPos:0, #tags:[]])

The RGB layers are used to generate the 3d model for the render, and the black outlines are what are shown in the tile editor.

Non-grid aligned objects, or “props” are placed in the prop editor, and they do use the 3d layers. This is because it is necessary for the prop editor’s function. While the tile editor is limited to the three major layers, the (2.5d) world is made up of 30 pixel layers (well, gameplay objects exist between layers 5 and 6, and water starts either between layer 0 and layer 1 or above layer 0) , and props can be placed as starting from any of these layers.

These are all assembled to make a 2.5d level... in red, green and blue. Not yet in the red read by the game. And also notice: there aren’t any plants! plants are generated by effects, which you can see haven’t been fully applied yet. The dark space surrounding most rooms is one, called “BlackGoo”

I don’t really have the strength of will to elaborate on effects, so onto lighting we go: the sunlight in a room is generated from an often crude monochrome image, which is projected onto the layers of the room after effects are generated, many of the intricacies of the lighting exist through light angle and distance.

In the last stage of rendering, the harsh red lightmap generated by this projection is used to determine whether a pixel is sunlit or in shadow. Light distance and angle are also saved for the game, so that it generates the shadows of gameplay objects in accordance.

All of this isn’t quite how it works but rather... an approximation. The editor still has many strange things, but this is what i’ve worked out from my own experience with it, as well as the experiences both of the modding community and others who worked on downpour. So yeah, basically rain world rooms go between 2.5d and 2d multiple times and it’s fucked up and the level editor is probably possessed by some kind of evil spirit. This piece of software is the hardest i’ve ever had to deal with, and apparently it’s even weirder internally, like half the code is in swedish. I haven’t even gotten into describing how the blues work, and i won’t, because i have no idea how the blues work, just that everything that isn’t controlled by the palette is rendered as blue.

[rainreignreine]

hi guys i am so late !!! oh m ygod. happy valentines day or something idrk

[seventeendeer]

how do you feel about the new chicken smoothie urs :0

-bangs pots and pans together- REMINDER TO PEOPLE WHO PLAY CHICKEN SMOOTHIE! IT IS DECEMBER 18TH, THE DAY WHERE ONE COULD BE SO LUCKY AS TO FIND GOD IN A BOX

I think the new UR's are SO lovely, that dragon is right up my alley!! I have an excuse to go all-in trying to trade for it in the future, as it's technically got enough pink to fit my pink collection and ohh you bet I'm gonna do it, I can already tell it's gonna trade for an arm and a leg since it's 1. a dragon and 2. gorgeous, but I am nothing if not full of hubris

(speaking of which, I just have to brag about the fact that my pink collection is now complete, save for the UR lion and the new UR dragon ... thank you to friends and strangers alike for helping me get my grubby fingies on every pink pet released on the site in less than a year :O )

also, I'm really excited to see what the little box is going to become ... it looks like it contains seeds? I absolutely adore those little silly UR's, like the peach with the caterpillar and the pumpkin pie and all the little guys in that group, so this new little silly is bound to be a winner as well ;w; <33

[yuukimiyas]

happy monday friends!! ૮꒰ ྀི◜༝◝꒱ა i hope today sets you up for the loveliest week!! ☆૮꒰•༝ •。꒱ა this is me sending all of my light & warm energy to you!! ilyasm!!

[antihcroes]

cute funny little thing about betty bc i like to be clever sometimes when it comes to certain things with my muses … her last name is ‘mclanden’ because that’s the last name of one of blake lively’s characters (in a simple favor) bc i thought it’d be a cute lil clever thing to give her the last name of one of blake’s characters since betty from the song is named after blake’s daughter

[rinphoria]

gooood morning :) sending you off with kisses to ensure that your day is at least okay

[lostglassguitars]

Catch me crying and blowing up over the newest Owl House episode oh my goddd

[razbb]

thinking about ghost quartet

[endlessraine]

RAIIINNNEEEE!!!!

HIIIII

HOW IS MY FAV MOOT AND SWEET BOY/p???

❤️❤️❤️❤️💖💖🩷💖💗💖💗💖🩷🩷💗💖💗💗💖💖🩷💜💜💜💜🩵🩵🩵💜🩵💜🩵💜🩵🩵🩵💜💜🩵💗💖💗🩷🩷🩷💖💗💗💗💖🩷🩷💖💗💗💜💖🩷🩵🩵🩷💖🩷🩵

LOVE YOU ENDLESSLY/p 🫶🫶🫶🫶

HI CHASE!!

Im Doing ok!! Today was a bit rough!! But it was ok!!

I HOPE YOU DOING WELL YOURSELF!! LOVE YOU SO MUCH<333/p

[planete777]

BAD INFLUENCE・⁠｡♪ LN4 [+ OP81]

( lando norris x fem!reader ft. oscar piastri)

READ PART 2!

IN WHICH. getting high was never on oscar's roster. getting high and enjoying it with y/n and lando wasn't either, but that just makes it much more... exciting. (based on this ask)

WARNINGS. 16+, suggestive content, drug use (as per), high hotness pt 875443, oscar cameo (woop woop 🥳), make outs, first time getting high, oscar being whipped for lando and y/n? wbk, a bit of mxm content between drivers, shotgunning coz it's my most favourite thing ever

NOTE. LANDOSCAR!! this may probably be my favourite fic and is my longest so im looking forward to you guys reading it!!! well overdue in my humblest opinion, but i delivered hehe. enjoy my luvs and a very happy new year in advance mwah mwah mwah 😚😚 i appreciate all of you readers, thank you for all your support 💓💓💓

SIDENOTE. my askbox is now closed for requests 🤍

‧₊˚✩彡 taglist @laciijane @ferrarrigirl @norrizzandpia @mimi-luvzyu (use askbox above if you'd like to be added!)

frankly speaking, a 'you up?' text from oscar piastri, whose entire persona was an antithesis of what that type of message usually pertained to, isn't something lando was expecting at 1am after a tedious race weekend. knows oscar to be one who sleeps in too early, as if his circadian rhythm was built upon the foundation of a restrictive curfew, and even fathoming the fact that he is awake past 12 is rather peculiar.

yet, with the mutually pre-established sense that lando would be awake (he's probably an insomniac, but it's not too concerning for him to actually check), and that oscar was asking if he was just for the sake of, most likely because he's, unusually, unable to sleep, lando replies with much sluggish vim.

fingers moving as if they played in a dream, he's able to reply with 'yh, why????' and sends it off before throwing his phone on the bed. he thinks, if he's sober, he would care more that this is oscar!!!! who is normally adamant about getting sleep!!! and not looking more sleep deprived than his naturally downturned eyes already make he seem to be!!!! but his mind feels like gooey viscous, and he counts about 3,000 peaks and troughs of the popcorn ceiling above before losing count and seeking solace in the spliff that burns his throat like a madman. he ponders if he's going crazy.

it's not long after that the undulating, monotonous buzz from his phone tickles his skin and with a sigh he goes to reply. and as he does so, his girlfriend, curiosity piqued, perks up from the foot of the bed.

"who's texting you this late?"

she looks ridiculously amusing: head hanging off the edge, loose and completely yielding like a dead body, and the only thing that reassures lando of her consciousness is the occasion movement of her arm to take another drag.

he wedges the joint between his reddened lips, lips curling awkwardly to speak, "piastri. dunno what he wants th- oh shit."

he's never felt such a sinking, crippling feeling of his high escaping him like a broken dam before. it's weirdly chilling, and for a good second, he feels brightly and vividly sober again. the texts just... stare at him and he almost wants to hurl his phone at the wall and watch it rain a litany of debris.

osc: just... forgot to give you back your stuff that i borrowed

osc: found some green leaf stuff in it lol im a bit concerned

lando's read it so many times, he's more than certain he knows just how many letters it consists of. fingers hover above the keyboard but it looks like they're weirdly swimming in air as he debates just what to write, and y/n is suddenly hissing his name, having sat up.

"— lan'! fucking hell, what happened?"

he moves on autpilot, back resting up the headboard, "he's found my weed."

y/n— y/n snorts. she sighs, moves back to her original pose, and lando's brain feels like static.

"love, i thought it would be worse."

lando splutters, "worse? babe, this is already bad! he could tell management for all i know." the mere thought of that makes lando's mind congeal. nevertheless, high out of his wits, he thinks he would somehow find a way to continue even if he was implored to stop.

she's disagreeing and laughing, and lando doesn't know what to make of it.

"nah, you're good. oscar wouldn't tell a soul," it's silent as he sees a burst of smoke ascend from the edge of the mattress, "tell him to bring it over."

lando fights with himself in his head. it's hilarious, really, watching his face morph from one emotion to another, and after 5 minutes with no whooshing affirmative of a message being sent, y/n exhales.

the bed curves in as she crawls up towards lando, before plucking the phone from his grip.

"it's really not that deep, lan'," her voice feels like cotton in his ears, "oscar isn't like that."

her fingers fly across the keyboard, how she does so in her inebriated state, lando has no clue, and just as quickly as she snatched the phone, she's sliding it back between his fingers.

"how— how do you know that?"

all presumptions, really, lando thinks. they may be good friends, him and oscar, but they've still got many, many steps to go before he's reassured that the other wouldn't go running his mouth to management because he found *fucking weed* in his bag.

the little voice at the back of his mind seeths, 'you shouldn't be smoking anyway', but he ignores it. what the hell does it know?

y/n goes to straddle him, crotch digging into his. its a soft wave of pleasure that oozes from the pressure, and lando lets a small moan mix with the puff of smoke he blows out. they would've fucked if only his limbs didn't feel like they've been detached and re-stitched; maybe they'd end the night with a lazy ride.

his girlfriend smirks, all cunning and undeniably hot, sucking in as much smoke as she can before blowing it all on his face. if anybody else had done this, he'd turn feral, but there's something alluring when y/n's exhale tickles his skin like feathers.

"how do i know? well, oscar, he kinda reminds me of you—" lando interrupts with a raised brow and a questioning stare, but y/n proceeds, "both of you are- you were- itching for a release. him not as much as you, but i still see it."

and lando can't really deny that, because he sees it too. in the way oscar's eyes seem to dart with dreaded uncertainty, and the way his shoulders are always up and tense, as if he has been tied like a puppet.

"that's what i call 'destined to get high'," y/n banters. it makes lando snort and roll his eyes (ultimately omitting to dwell on the sliver of seriousness that leaks through).

"dunno why you're rolling your eyes, you were basically begging me to give you a spliff," y/n taunts, and even though he groans at the reminiscence, he doesn't deny it. doing so would be like calling himself michael schumacher.

"yeah, whatever," he takes a lazy drag, a hand sliding up and down y/n's thigh, "at least i'm sexy when getting stoned."

y/n cackles, dissolving into a small giggle as she twirls her fingers through lando's curls; she never wants to let him go.

"damn right, baby."

another ping sounds from lando's phone, and subconsciously, his hands snakes to get it.

when he turns it on, he doesn't think he can be gobsmacked with such intensity twice in a day.

landooo: yh just bring it over

landooo: you can join us if you'd like

landooo: 😉

osc: uhm sure..

"y/n."

-.-.-.-.-

weed.

he'll be fucking damned.

the laugh that is punched out of him is one of disbelief, and, quite frankly, sheer horror.

he'd only wanted to borrow some shaving cream, after all, he's not one to favour the prickly itch of stubble. and in perfect, restless lando fashion, he was given the whole essentials bag and tasked with finding it himself.

which then leads him to now, palm burning with the weight of three spliffs that had somehow tumbled out of a flat metal tin.

he stares at them for so long that he might as well have burned holes into them (ironic), and in a flurry of movement, he's stuffing everything back into the bag, zipping it closed. if he doesn't see it, then he doesn't know it's there. cool.

but he's just standing, in the middle of his hotel room, completely clueless and delirious. he doesn't know how many times he wipes perspiration off his palms and onto his shorts, neither does he know how he's able to text lando about his findings.

originally, he thought that sending the infamous, suggestively connotated 'you up?' would've trimmed a bit of the tension away, yet it seems like lando, without fail, waters the situation with a fuck-ton more.

"'join us'? fucking hell."

oscar feels absolutely scorched from the wisps of his hair to the tips of his toes, and a spark of something curls in his gut.

no, absolutely not.

it's- he flips his watch to check the time- one am for fuck's sake, and lando's— getting high. smoking weed. [most likely] with his girlfriend.

whatever it is that makes his gut its abode curls even more as he shoves his feet into the nearest shoes he can find, and tames his hair in the mirror by the doorway. finding the night already too hard to bare, he doesn't dwell on what he'd done, and heads off to lando's room with sickening anticipation swirling within the grooves of his skin.

the walk is only a few seconds long, and oscar curses the fact that they weren't roomed further apart (impractical in usual circumstances, but the current predicament is anything but usual). he guesses he stands there, navy blue wash bag clutched in a vice grip, for many minutes (his concept of time tonight is royally fucked— how has he stayed up this late?) before he musters up some courage to knock on the door. in the quietude of the night, the sound is magnified to the point where he winces and hopes that no one else on their floor wakes up.

he hears a quiet rustle from behind the door, sighs for the umpteenth time that day (honestly, he could have a smoke for himself to- no.) before it's swiftly open.

y/n stands there, no sign of a spliff in sight, but her heavy lidded red eyes (that must hurt, right?) and the pungent smell of weed is enough to tell.

"ah, golden boy is here," y/n's grinning, as much as she can do without it looking robotic, and oscar blushes.

"g-golden boy?"

"i said what i said," she opens the door wider, and oscar's vision catches a limp leg hanging off the side of the bed, "you coming in or what?"

he's never been in such a mind-tearing crossroad before. wants to be reasonable and say no, afterall his job is on the line here (just because lando hasn't been caught, doesn't mean he won't, too). but then he's thinking that he's played angel's advocate for too long, and, as if the universe wants to commit a double homicide, lando is walking over, countenance lackadaisical and bends down as he wraps his arms around her waist.

he asks for forgiveness, because such a temptation before him is completely unforgiving , and oscar finds his vascillations come to an end the second he makes eye contact with his teammate.

it's then he realises that the something that had been driving his intestines mad was sheer want, and, having a mind of their own, his feet shuffle into the room, decision finalised by the click of the door shutting behind him.

he just hopes he doesn't regret this is in the morning.

the couple, with eased familiarity, move back to the bed, leaving oscar standing there, lost and expecting. lando regains possession of the spliff, back flat against the bed and arm bent behind his head.

he's turning to oscar, several beats later, with a heated look that just pulls the australian right in.

"put the bag down, osc," he's demanding— oh fuck, "and come over here."

oscar feels rather mortified at the effect lando's assertiveness has on him. his heart curdles, drips away like goo, and he can't think straight.

toes off his shoes, sliding them out of the way with his foot, before dumping the bag on lando's luggage and tentatively making his way to the bed.

it's excruciatingly daunting, must he say, and he's sure it's blatant because y/n is grinning softly and beckoning him closer with the wave of a hand.

"you're good, oscar."

then he's fully on the bed, a thin sheen of gray blurring his vision and the stench of smoke so thick, he could get high off it alone.

lando's splayed in front of him, watching intensely as his fingers accomodate a joint between them, and y/n's at his side, right at the foot of the bed, fiddling with a metal tin of her own.

he wonders just how long they've been doing this for.

"for me, since i was 18/19 maybe. lando started about a year ago."

oscar's brain fucking spasms.

his head whips to y/n, then back to lando, who just smiles and takes another drag, "a year?!"

the girl beside him giggles, turning back to him with a freshly rolled spliff of his own, "yeah. practically drooling to take a hit."

his teammate groans, dragging a hand down his face before sitting up, they seem to go through this ordeal once or twice before.

before he can question any more, y/n points the joint at him, "you sure you want to do this?"

funny, he's asking himself this. has been ever since he read the proposition that lando (y/n) had sent, and he had replied with a seemingly confused 'sure'. heat feels like a thousands ants crawling up his body, and the silence is even worse because he's certain his ears are filled with cement.

"am i— am i gonna get addicted to... this?"

lando shakes his head just as y/n shrugs, "depends, love. if you've got good enough self control and don't rely on it too much, you'll be fine."

oscar gives a sigh of relief, but turns tense again as he looks at lando. almost telepathically, he knows what oscar is thinking.

"no osc, i'm not hooked on this. i only do it every couple of weeks or so."

his hands raise up in defense, "just asking, mate."

"and you have every right to, baby," y/n says, then scoops his hand into her grip and puts the spliff in his hand, "now take this and let lando teach you."

oscar doesn't know what to do with it. he just stares at the green stick in his hand and wills up some courage to look back up at lando. for the first time in 22 years, he's going to experience what it's like to get high, and the excitement that crawls up his spine is chilling.

"take this," lando pushes a bottle of water into his hands, and oscar looks at it in confusion.

"it's your first time, so it'll probably make you cough a ton. drinking water helps."

oscar nods, gently taking and unscrewing it open. he gulps it down like a starved animal, and almost chokes when he notices his teammates girlfriend staring bullets into his face. his heart jumps and he stops drinking.

"now put the spliff in your mouth and let me light it for you."

oscar does so, feeling the weight of the rolled joint between his lips is completely maddening.

his teammate fishes a black lighter from the bedside table, then scooches closer to oscar's crossed legs. lando's body is like a furnace of drunken heat, and it only gets worse when his hand lands right on oscar's bare thigh.

it feels perfect and oscar thinks he's surfing on the waves of euphoria already.

"this good?" lando questions his touch, and oscar doesn't waste time to nod, "alright— when i light it, you're gonna try and inhale as much as you can. don't let it stay in your throat or you're gonna cough."

oscar bobs his head affirmatively.

"if you can't, just take it in small amounts, not too much that it hits your throat."

then lando's leaning in, flame swaying from the lighter, and oscar's eyebrows scrunch as he follows it closer and closer to the spliff.

it's instaneous, the heat that fills his mouth, and in a hurried succession, oscar is inhaling and spluttering like a madman. his eyes are burning, they may already be red at this point, and his nose feels ripped off.

"take it easy, love," a hand- y/n's- rests upon his back and he finds himself needing composure, and not only from his failed attempt to smoke.

"wow uh that was— uhm..."

lando rubs his thigh, with the intention to comfort, but oscar finds himself more pent up than before. the weed is already kicking in and his mind feels chopped into pieces and mixed with cake batter, and every touch feels like a punch.

"you good to go again?" lando queries. oscar nods, his throat feeling too rough to speak up, "okay then, take your time and calm yourself down. small intakes, yeah?"

the spliff goes back between his lips, and with lando watching him like he's the best movie he's ever seen, he's sucking in the smoke cautiously and— fuck, it feels so so good. he's unravelled everywhere, not a kink left in his joint nor a knot remaining in his muscles, and when he breathes the smoke out, he lets his head fall back with a smile on his face.

"there you go," lando's voice sounds loose and airy in his mind, and oscar finds himself loving it.

"look at him, babe," y/n chimes from beside him, and his head rolls to give her an inebriated grin, "told you he was meant for it."

lando hums, agreeing, from in front of him, "gonna shotgun with him."

whatever that is, y/n is eager to see it happen, and oscar gives lando a confused look. it only evokes a cute grin from the other, who plucks the spliff from oscar's fingers.

"i'll take a hit and blow it in your mouth, if that's cool with you."

and— oscar moans involuntarily. he doesn't know where it comes from but it's practically punched out of him with how loud it is, and lando smirks widely. all oscar can do is watch as he fills his mouth with smoke and shuffles closer to him. his heart palpitates, beating like a drum piece, and his skin is damp and flushed from the intensity of it all.

lando assesses oscar's decision, confirming his consent as he nods, and slowly, lando snakes an arm around his neck, pulling him closer. oscar is compliant, body wanting and downright desperate, mouth opening on autopilot.

the second lando's lips attach to his and the smoke is pushed into his mouth, oscar fucking loses it. his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he's grabbing lando's hair and pushing his mouth deeper.

he's kissing his teammate with all he has to give, and lando— he's reciprocating it, lips hungry on oscar's, biting and licking everywhere. for a second, oscar can't think about anything, mind filled with just lando, as his tongue slips in and turns the kiss filthy.

oscar hasn't made out with anyone with such ferocity. he's encompassed in scorching heat, and the euphoria just gets better as lando trails his lips down his neck. the bites and licks are inclement, and oscar's sure there'd be marks tomorrow, angry and purple, but right now, he doesn't care. not when lando's hands creep up his shirt, and run up his torso, resting upon his nipples and twirling them around his fingers.

"oh fuck, lando," his moan is so high pitched it sounds foreign and it's almost hard for him to believe that it comes from him. but he's sure it does, because another is forced out as soft hand turns his head to the side and there's another set of lips on his in an instant.

he thinks he could hooked on y/n's kisses, warm, wet and so fucking sensual, he feels worshipped. not an inch of skin is missed by her tongue, and with every drag of her lips against his, he's concluding that this would be the perfect way to die.

oscar's so hard in his jeans from lando's stimulation, y/n's kisses, and the heightened sensation of everything from the weed, that he almost cums in his shorts. he can only imagine how plump it could be, and how a mouth on it would have him sobbing for days.

but he doesn't have to, because lando creeps a hand to his crotch and squeezes. the whine that leaves oscars mouth and into his teammate's girlfriend's is criminal.

"gonna suck you off so good, osc," lando moans in his ear, breath warm and words dirty, "you like that?"

and as oscar begs him to, he thinks that maybe getting high with lando and y/n isn't so bad afterall.

[poetsblvd]

fic recs ﹐ ( charles leclerc x reader )

— key . fluff (❀) angst (✿) smau (❁) mature (❃) —

leclercs type (❀) @thebearchives

always, evermore, even after and still (❁) @love-belle

it’s never over (❀) (❃) @leclsrc

fix what has been broken (❁) @lorarri

you’ll change your name, or change your mind (✿) @monzabee

heartbreak on tour series (❁) @twobluejeans

right timing (✿) (❀) @moneymasnn

baby leclerc series (❀) @starkwlkr

lightning mclover (❀) @f1version

10 seconds (❀) @lxclerc

itch (❃) @monzamash

this is what it feels like (❁) @love-belle

sweet pea (❀) @leclsrc

delicate series (✿) (❀) (❁) @redclercs

north star series (✿) (❀) @harley-sunday

amour rose (❁) @cartierre

cherry tomato (❀) @xxblairexxss

to live for the hope of it all (❁) @pierregazly

una noche en monaco (✿) (❀) (❃) @charlesswife

sparks (❀) @writingstoraes

a house, a home (✿) @vetteltea

saw your mom at the grocery store (❁) @love-belle

it’s called love (❀) (✿) @racinggirl

honeymoon (❃) @lecsainz

what would you say (if i told you i loved you) (❁) @cieloclercs

what could’ve been (✿) @norrisleclercf1

pardesi girl (❁) @fleetwooods

i’d never walk cornelia street again (❁) @love-belle

night tea and tears (❀) (✿) @httpiastri

the seasons of love series (❀) (✿) (❃) @formulaforza

pretty visitors (❀) @strawberrysainz

still writing pages (✿) @leclercsbunny

royal series (❁) @maryleclerc

lonely call (✿) @lxclerc

for sentimental reasons (❀) (✿) (❃) @deadaydreams

the delicate series (❀) (✿) @fleetwooods

when it rains it pours (✿) @silverszobo

you gotta move, or move on (✿) @formulaforza

thirsty thoughts (❃) (❁) @lorarri

you’re losing me (✿) @oconso

why we broke up (✿) @charlesluvr

shoulder to lean on (✿) (❀) @silverszobo

ma moitié (❀) (✿) @thebearchives

the winner takes it all series (✿) @silverstonesainz

stories old and true (❀) (❃) @cherry-leclerc

i have forgotten (✿) (❃) @cherry-leclerc

lily’s notes , if i studied for half the time i spent on tumblr i’d be a genius. but this is more fun and i slowly find myself tumbling down the tumblr black hole and re-experiencing my old fav fics that i’ve stumbled across again , and omg wow im having so much fun making fic recs so expect a lot more !! so this is the charles rec list aka the current f1 poster boy , max rec list next !! thank you to all the amazing writers for pushing their hard work onto these masterpieces mwah xx

[infictionalwonderland]

the big bad birthday — h.lewis

SUMMARY, it’s your birthday and amidst the wholesome birthday posts, everyone’s entertainment comes from the chaotic and completely drunk off your tits content!

liked by yourusername, gkbarry and 234,680 others

faithlouisak, to the girl of my dreams, my sugar plum baddie pookie boo bear, the big spoon to my little spoon, the sugar in my tea, the absolute fittest fucking person on this planet with the best tits ive ever seen (soz wroetoshaw). HAPPY BIRTHDAY OMG I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND I CANNOT WAIT TO SPEND EVERY FUCKING BIRTHDAY WITH YOU UNTIL WERE BOTH CRIPPLED AND ROLLING ABOUT IN OUR WHEELCHAIRS IN ALL THE SKATE PARKS LIKE THE COOL KIDS WE ARE XOXOXOXO tagged—@yourusername

view all 23,506 comments yourusername FAITH STOP IT.

yourusername I LOVE YOU SO BLOODY MUCH MY HEART IS LITERALLY ACHING AND UGH YOURE JUST MY FAVOURITE PERSON EVER COME KISS ME

-> faithlouisak don’t have to feckin ask me twice sexy bum

-> behzingagram @wroetoshaw

-> yourusername YO YO YO FAITH UR BOYFS TRYING TO HATE CRIME US?????!!!?????

-> faithlouisak AHHH HOMOPHOBE

bambinobecky the cake is so true 😋😋😋😋😋😋

mrskelly THE PHOTOS OF THEM I CANNOT THEYRE ACTUALLY SO CUTE BRO! THEIR FRIENDSHIP MAKES ME SO HAPPY 💕💕

mummy_behz wishing the beautiful beautiful birthday girl all the best! 💐💐

-> yourusername thank you so much ruth 💝

liked by max_balegde,miniminter and 311,289 others

taliamar LADIES AND GENTLEMEN WILL YOU PLEASE STAND BC IT IS THE FUCKING BIRTHDAY OF MY LOVVERR! yn i love you so much i genuinely cannot put it into words (can put it into our songs tho xx) you’re the most amazing person that i have ever met, you make me laugh all the time, you keep a smile on my face always, your energy alone is enough to make me feel all bubbly and giddy inside. with you, i feel safe and happy and loved and i feel like im a little kid again and i can conquer the world. you’re truly the very epitome of perfection, lover 😉 tagged—@yourusername

view all 30,561 comments ksi bro harry’s birthday post better be outta this world 😭

-> tobjizzle honestly, he’s got hella competition

yourusername STOP IT TALIA YOURE SO CUTE AND I ADORE YOU WITH MY WHOLE HEART, YOU HAVE NO IDEA. YOU MAKE ME SO HAPPY AND YOU DESERVE THE ENTIRE WORLD BABY. MWAH!

-> taliamar stop i shouldn’t be crying it’s YOUR birthday

-> miniminter and she’s crying now. @wroetoshaw ?

-> wroetoshaw balling mate

gkbarry birthday lass looks so hot drenched in rain xxxx

-> yourusername eat me out 😘😘😘😘

-> gkbarry 🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️

liked by zerkaa, taliamar and 211,597 others

freyanightingale YN YN YN! from the day that i met you i was amazed by you, by your beauty, your kindness, your wit and your literal intelligence - to this day, that amazement has only increased and i know that as i stay by your side until the day we both die in our cute little hospital gowns in our hospital beds with rooms next to each other, i will die still being amazed by you and your very being. i love you so much and you deserve the universe, and even more. HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU BEAUTIFUL SOUL 💕💕

p.s yes i am lying on her arse in the 8th slide it was a true life experience tagged—@yourusername

view all 16,993 comments zerkaa i feel cheated on

-> freyanightingale cry about it

-> taliamar literally no one cares

-> faithlouisak omg piss off u HOBO

-> tobjizzle flabbergasted.

yourusername FREYA!!!!!!! BRO IM ACTUALLY GONNA HAVE NO TEARS LEFT TO CRY, luv u ari, AFTER ALL THESE MESSAGES AND YOU BET YOUR FAT ASS WE’RE GONNA HAVE HOSPTIAL BEDS NEXT TO ONE ANOTHER???? WE CAN WEAR OUR MATCHING HARRY POTTER SOCK SETS AND GET MATCHING ACRYLICS XXX

-> freyanightingale you’re my favourite person ever xx

liked by yungfully, chunkz and 501,590 others

nellarosee happy birthday to the most stunning, happy, loving, genuine, funny & gorgeous gorgeous girl that i have ever known, you are truly one of a kind my girl! tagged—@yourusername

liked by georgeclarkeey, chloeburrows and 298,126 others

gkbarry dear sexiest bitch in the entirety of europe, wishing you the best birthday there ever was. we need more people like your fantastical self in the world, cheers for sticking around this long 😘😘😘😘😘

p.s come to mine later, wear ur red set 👅 tagged—@yourusername

liked by yourusername, tobjizzle and 58,330 others

r0sielewis happy birthday to the best girl i’ve ever known, the first genuine friend i have ever made and who i know will always be there for the rest of my life! happy birthday to my role model, my makeup artist, my hair stylist, my therapist, my personal stylist - happy birthday to my everything. i love you so much yn, i hope you know that! all of us lewis’ do (especially mum.. & harry ig) 🤍🤍 tagged—@yourusername

LATER. . .

tobjizzle has posted to their story!

[bookshelf-dust]

when it's rainin'

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 2,666 ;)

warnings: swearing, reader has a fear of thunderstorms, kinda newly established relationship, a few sexual innuendos, fluff

a/n: hi! this was very self-indulgent for me and i am decidedly dedicating this fic to all of my fellow thunderstorm fearers. i see you. i am you. i hope this isn't too bad. i revised it too many times and i'm still feeling a little fretful over it. also, the title is a fleetwood mac lyric. bite me. anyways, please let me know what you think! mwah mwah i love you <333

————

“Billy, I gotta get going.”

You squeeze the fat of his thigh where it’s draped over both of your legs. He takes hold of your wrist; his grip gentle, if not a little teasing. 

He turns to look at you, head lolling against the back of the couch. His hair is pushed up messily behind him on the cushion. You know that if he were to sit up, it’d be matted in the way that it gets when he lays on it for too long. 

Billy knows the cogs in your brain are at work. The beginnings of a cocky smirk play at the corners of his mouth. He furrows his brow, faux concern written all across his face, as if something’s wrong. 

“But it’s rainin’, baby.” He gives his head a little shake, like he can’t believe you’d leave in weather like this.

His smirk is in full bloom when he laces his fingers with yours and lifts your hand up to his mouth. You turn to look out the window and feel him press a kiss to your knuckles. 

He’s buttering you up and you know it. 

“It’s just rain, Hargrove. And I do know how to drive.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the rain picks up, enough so that you can hear it pounding against the roof. 

Billy laughs, low and sweet. You glare at him.

“Fine. I’ll wait it out.”

“Mhm,” he grunts, peeling his leg off of yours and repositioning himself on the couch. He leans up against the arm, and holds his own out to you. You know what he’s doing, so you oblige. 

Billy loves to watch storms, and holding you this way makes for a better view out the window. You lean into him, back pressed to his chest. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and buries his face in your neck. 

There’s a crack of lightning and the rumble of thunder that follows seems to shake the earth itself. Your stomach drops. This is exactly what you hadn’t wanted to happen, and now you’re stuck here, with Billy, internally panicking over a thunderstorm. Admittedly, you do feel a bit safer than you would alone in your bedroom, but this fear isn’t exactly something you share with others. 

“You can’t drive home in that,” he argues. 

You grab hold of Billy’s forearms, his skin warm under your palms. “I said I’d wait it out,” you mumble. 

He kisses the side of your throat, and it’s the kind of kiss you might feel lingering there for the rest of the day. Like his lips have left a searing brand against your skin. 

“You could just stay,” he drawls. 

“Billy.”

He lets out a breath of a laugh and moves his face back from you. “Yeah, I know. You don’t love me.”

You let yourself slide further down the couch until your head rests on Billy’s tummy. He doesn’t let go of you though, hands rubbing over your collarbones. “That’s not fair.”

It thunders then, at a volume you couldn’t have expected. It rattles both you and the windows, making you jump. 

“You okay?” Billy’s tone is sincere. 

You sit back up a little bit, and he uses the leverage to pull you into him. He wraps his arms around you completely, enveloping you in warmth and the scent of his body wash. The gesture is protective. He can see the way you glance out the window, and he thinks you might be looking for that flash, that queue for another rumble. 

“‘M fine. Scared me is all.”

Your grip on Billy’s knee says otherwise. He thinks he understands.

“I’ve never been with you during a storm before. You don’t like ‘em?”

You glance back at him. The concern on his face is genuine this time, but you can still see that underlying tendency to tease, like he’s ready to use it when he feels necessary. 

“Rain is fine,” you start. “I love it, actually. It’s just when it gets like this, when you can’t see down the driveway anymore and it’s windy. I really don’t like the wind.”

It is pretty damn windy. Billy hadn’t noticed it until you pointed it out. It makes him glad he parked under the carport today, knowing this is the kind of storm that leaves a mess behind. 

You’re starting to panic, not only because you’ve just told Billy about your childish fear, but also because you don’t know what kind of weather they’re calling for. You live in Indiana, for fucks sake. You don’t like that all of this is out of your control, that there’s nothing you can do but wait it out. 

“Hey, look at me.” Billy says, voice low and enticing. It pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. Your fingers are cold where they press into his legs. You twist around to face him and his hands meet your cheeks. His eyes are boring into yours. 

He kisses you. It’s slow, measured. The kind of kiss that steals your breath and demands your full attention. 

You realize too late that it’s a distraction. You don’t jump when it thunders this time. 

Billy pulls away, pleased with the blissed out look on your face. With the fact that he’s seemingly calmed you down for the moment. 

“That sweatshirt you like is on my bed. Why don’t you go get it, huh?”

You nod and he steadies you when you climb off of him and the couch. Billy wants to look at the weather, but he also wants to take care of you. He’s not letting you drive home tonight. 

You slip down the hall and Billy uses the time to flip the channel, assuming the weather will be on. 

You find his sweatshirt where he told you it’d be and stop at the foot of his bed, pulling it on over your head. It smells like him. Not like his cologne or cigarettes, but like the Billy who took a shower and got cold, who fell asleep earlier than usual and slept in more clothes than he ever has—this sweatshirt included. 

You see the lightning this time and are able to brace yourself for the thunderclap that follows. You still scramble back to the living room, seeking refuge in Billy. 

Your footsteps are quiet despite your panic, and Billy only notices you’ve entered the room because he’d sat up firmly against the back of the couch. You’re chewing on your lip, staring at the warnings flying across the screen. “What’d it say?” 

Billy turns the tv off. “Nothing bad baby, promise.” He holds out his hands and scoots to the edge of his seat, pulling you to stand in between his legs. He closes them against your own, gently trapping you there. “Just that it was gonna be stormy the rest of the night.”

Your brow furrows. “It’s not gonna let up?”

“Doesn’t look like it.” This time you catch the way the corner of his mouth quirks up. Clearly he’s happy with himself and the weather. 

Billy’s always loved these kinds of storms, and he hates that you don’t, but if he can get rain and his baby to spend the night all in one go? He’ll be pretty damn content. 

You realize that you should’ve watched the weather report this morning, but it seems that when you know you’ll be spending time with Billy, he’s the only thing that occupies your brain. 

“Dammit,” you say. 

Billy squeezes at your hips, and it makes you look down at him. There’s a pout on his face: the crease between his brows deepening, his bottom lip jutting out just that little bit. He squeezes harder now that he’s got your attention. 

“Something wrong with staying here? You really wanna go home that bad?” 

Billy’s teasing and you know it. You know that he’d let you go if you actually wanted to, that he’d worry until you got home and called him to say you were okay. You also know that he wants you to stay, and you’ve known that since you got to his place and saw the relief on his face. Hell, he hasn’t stopped touching you since then either. He’s plenty needy today. 

You cup his face with your hands, swipe your thumb over the smattering of freckles under his eye. His fingers have made their way under the hem of your (his) shirt and are pressing into your skin. 

“I didn’t say that. I just told my parents that I wouldn’t be home too late.”

“So call and say you’re staying the night, that you don’t want to drive home in this weather.”

You decide then that maybe you don’t need to overthink this so much. That maybe you shouldn’t let your brain ruin what could be a nice night. 

“Okay.”

Billy blinks up at you.

You move away from him and then you’re picking up the phone from its place on the wall, punching in your home number. 

Billy can’t believe that worked. You never listen to him. And clearly you recognize this given that you’re hiding a grin with the back of your hand as you talk. The phone call is over quickly, and when you walk back over to him, Billy pulls you down into his lap. Your fingers find their way into his hair before you can even think about it. 

“Have I behaved better than I thought?” Billy asks, tentatively rubbing up and down your thighs. 

You grin at him and place a kiss on his cheek. It’s warmer than it should be, because somehow you’ve managed to fluster him. 

“You keep giving me your pitiful little looks, Billy.”

He scoffs. “No, I don’t.”

“Don’t lie to me, pretty boy.”

He blushes. Goddamnit, Billy thinks. You can read him much too easily now. He’s really fucked. 

Billy exhales. “I’ve wanted you to stay the night for weeks. But you always had to be home or somethin’. And the storm seems to be working in my favor tonight, y’know?” He gives you this look then, his eyes traveling across your face, down your neck and back up. He bats his lashes at you and you slap him on the shoulder. 

He acts as though he’s appalled, grabbing you by the waist and maneuvering you off of him and onto the couch. Billy braces himself against the cushions and hovers over top of you. “Now that was just rude.”

“You deserved it,” you bite back, leaning up to swipe the tip of your tongue across the end of his nose. “Hate it when you flirt with me.”

Billy rolls his eyes and lets his weight drop down on top of you, causing you to voice an audible oof. 

He props himself up on his elbows, face inches from yours. “Mhm. Hate it when your boyfriend flirts with you. I believe it.”

You start to say something, something he knows will be a smartass remark, so Billy presses his lips to yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. You make a noise of surprise and Billy starts to laugh against your mouth, a low chuckle that makes you want to both keep kissing him and shove him on the floor. 

Billy pulls away to press kisses to both of your cheeks and the center of your throat. You’re lost in his affection when it thunders again, making you jolt underneath him. He brings a hand up to cradle your cheek. “Hey. S’okay.”

You start to nod when the lights flicker, and you swear your heart falls out of your ass. Please don’t let the power go out, you think. He can read the panic on your face. 

“Okay,” Billy grunts, pushing himself to stand. “New plan.”

You sit up, and Billy quickly hooks one arm around your back, the other under your thighs. He hoists you up and over his shoulder, making you squeal with how swift the action is. But you don’t protest, and only hope that he won’t drop you on the way to his next destination.

Billy sets you down on his bed.

“Thanks for the ride,�� you say, running your hands down your face. You realize too quickly the opening you’ve given him.

He leans in to kiss your forehead, though he pulls away and lets his mouth linger over the shell of your ear. 

“You can ride anytime you want, baby.”

You fall back onto his mattress. “Billy, please.”

“Don’t gotta beg, honey. Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you.”

You hold back a groan at his antics. “I really should’ve gone home.” 

Billy laughs and lands a playful smack to the side of your thigh before moving towards his dresser. 

You push up on your elbows to watch him sort through his clothes. He grabs a couple things and brings them to you before pulling his own shirt off over his head. 

“Why are you stripping?” You question, looking over the shirt and shorts he’d handed you. 

“If you think that’s stripping, clearly I haven’t been good enough to you,” Billy snorts.

You grin up at him. “Are these for me?” you ask, holding onto the bundle of fabric in your hands. 

“Mhm. For you to sleep in.”

You nod hesitantly, having just seen a flash outside of Billy’s window. This time the rumble is just that, not a clap, not enough to rattle the windows in their frames. 

Billy moves towards his door, with the promise of getting more blankets, allowing you a moment to change. He comes back with water for you, too.

He kicks the door closed behind him, internally melting at the sight of you in his clothes. You’re so pretty, it physically hurts him. He’s never felt that way in his life. 

Billy gets you to drink some for him before you’re scooting further into his bed and he’s kicking off his sweats. 

You watch him move around the room, the way the muscles of his back move as he’s shutting blinds and pulling makeshift curtains closed. He turns off the overhead light, leaving only that coming from the lamps he has. 

You’re in awe of how easy it is for him to take care of you. How he didn’t pester you for being afraid of the storm but instead has comforted you and seems dedicated to keeping you safe. 

Billy finally slips into bed beside you. “What are we doing?” you ask, eyeing his torso while he settles in. He pretends not to notice. 

“I’m protecting you from the big bad storm, baby.” He kisses your hairline. 

You smile at him, one of pure joy that starts slow and grows brilliantly. The both of you are bundled up like it’s some big sleepover, or like you’ve stayed up hiding a book beneath the sheets. 

“Well, I’m not sleepy. So what’d you wanna do? Tell secrets?” 

Billy props his head up, palm cradling the base of his skull, elbow squishing his pillow. He laughs and squeezes at your hip. 

“Trivia? Talk about boys?” you continue. 

He shakes his head, his smile matching yours and making his eyes crinkle at the corners. Sometimes he can’t believe he landed you. “You got a boy you wanna talk about?”

You snort. “Mhm. There’s one I like. He’s pretty but super grumpy.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep.”

“I think trivia might be better since you’re just going to bully me.” 

Billy flops down on his back. You push up so you can hover over him. 

“Whatever you want, baby.” 

Billy rolls his eyes but kisses you again, pulling your face down to meet his, mouth warm against yours. The next round of thunder is louder than the last and your heart rate picks up, but with him here it feels okay.

It’s hard not to feel safe when he takes such good care of you, when he’s warm enough that everything feels protected, like you could weather any storm with him and his smart ass mouth.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @clovermunson (for being such a gem and helping me)

[diedoverahat]

Can you please please please write a smut FIC where reader and Mike is on the Night Shift and we end up thigh ridinggg!!!!

- ps we call him Mikey 😭😭😭

Body Language

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

word count: ofc it's 1.9k+

warnings: nsfw 18+

authors note: hi anon! thanks so much for the ask, i had so much fun writing it! hope you love it! mwah <333

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦

“About time you finally show up.”

Were the first words Mike heard as soon as he walked into the security office of Freddy’s. He sighed loudly, shrugging his rain coat off to hang it on the back of the door.

"Don't start," he said gruffly.

Mike turned to face you, your body leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed over your chest. You had a smug smile on your face. "I was starting to think you got too scared to come back."

Mike scoffed. "Don't get too excited," He deadpans. "I just had some trouble with the babysitter.”

You don't respond, only following him with your eyes as he walks over and sits down in the one office chair in-front of the monitors. Mike can tell you've been here for a while now, if the half-drunken water bottle and empty protein bar wrapper sitting on the desk is anything to go by.

He only just starts flipping through the different channels when you speak up again. "You're in my seat."

He doesn't look up from the screen when he replies. "You weren't sitting in it."

You scoff loudly, he can hear you push off the wall. The sound of your footsteps getting closer and closer as you walk toward him. "I was sitting in it for thirty minutes before you even got here."

"You sound like a child," He replies, swiveling around to face you. Your body is close enough to slightly loom over his seated form. "Just go get another chair from the dining room."

"No, I was here first. The comfy chair is mine," You press. "You go get a chair."

"Comfy chair" was definitely a stretch, the office chair was only slightly better than the dining chairs.

Mike stares at you for a moment before swiveling back to the monitors. "No." He says, completely dismissing you.

It's quiet for a moment, before you let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine." You state, with a small shrug before shoving between Mike and the desk and unceremoniously plopping down in his lap.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Mike asks loudly, raising his hands up to avoid touching you. You've already gone back to work, idly flipping through the monitors like this is normal.

"You won't move, so you have to share." You say simply.

Mike stares daggers at your back, slowly placing his hands on either side of the chairs arm rests. "You're crazy." He mutters, but the last thing he's going to do is get up and let you win this weird ass game you've decided to challenge him to.

He tries his best to ignore you, he really does, but after a while he can feel his heart start to beat ever so slightly faster. Mike's not proud enough to admit that you're definitely attractive. He'd always thought that, even though you drive him crazy 90% of the time. You have a gorgeous face, and an amazing figure. Of course he would never tell you any of this, you would never let him hear the end of it.

So he doesn't, but on his lonelier nights, he lets his mind run rampant with visions of you on your knees, mouth open and waiting for his release. Or you on all fours, moans pouring out of your mouth uncontrollably as he thrusts in and out of your dripping cunt, hitting the spot inside you that makes you light up like a Christmas tree. Or you on your back, hands gripping his hair so tightly because you can't handle how good his mouth feels sucking on your clit.

Those nights are becoming more and more frequent these days, and he can never refrain from shoving his hand down his sleep shorts and fisting his hand over his hard cock furiously until he ruins his boxers.

Mike's brought back from his thoughts running rampant in his head by the mortifying realization that currently, with you mere inches away from his crotch, he's hard as a rock. It's not helping that all he can see is your silhouette directly sitting in front of him. Your curves fully on display, in your form fitting shirt and tight jeans. He can't help the way his eyes scan down your body. Greedily raking from your shoulders to your waist that tapers down to the swell of your ass sitting pretty inches away from his growing bulge.

Worst of all, you just won't stop fidgeting. Tiny, unconscious movements that jostle Mike just enough to make him feel his dick scrape against the zipper of his jeans. All he can do is stare, sweating bullets basically white-knuckling the chair in order to stay still, scared to even breathe too deeply.

Then it all goes to shit in a matter of seconds. You knock the water bottle off the desk trying to switch monitors, and when you go to pick it up you scoot back just the tiniest bit, but it's enough to grind your ass directly over his dick.

Immediately Mike has his hands tight around your hips, jerking you back up into a sitting position as quickly as he can. His whole body going rigid against the chair in embarrassment, eyes wide and mortified.

You're still too, back sitting up straight as a board. He's waiting for you to say something, to laugh at him, but you're silent. There's an apology on the tip of his tongue, when suddenly you push the chair out from the desk, sending you and Mike flying backwards. In a flash, you flip to face him sitting directly over his thigh. Slotting your knee between his legs and the chair.

Your pupils are blown, eyes swallowed almost entirely by black. "How long?" You ask, softly. It takes Mike a second for your words to break through the fog clouding his brain, but he's just confused. He tilts his head to this side in question, not trusting his voice to sound anything but fucked.

"How long were you sitting here with this," You specify what you're saying by pushing your knee more firmly against his hard dick, making Mike's hands spasm on your hips and choke out a soft whine. "Before you planned on doing anything with it?"

Mike can do nothing but blink up at you slowly. You look almost predatory, staring at him so fiercely he swears you can see his soul. You still haven't moved, he can feel the warmth radiating between your legs against his thigh. His hands jerk almost unconsciously, trying to get you to grind forward. You smile, looking down at your position splayed over his lap and back up to his face.

"What do you want?" You ask sweetly. "Do you want me to move, Mikey?"

Your words hit him like a truck, he moans loudly, nodding his head frantically. "Yeah? You want me to move?" You ask again, tipping into his personal space, hands flat on his chest. You lean forward, breath puffing out over his ear.

"Move me then." You hiss, directly into his ear.

Mike lets out a guttural groan, eyes snapping shut tightly. He wants to, so badly but he just can't.

"Come on Mikey," You goad, your eyes glassy. "Move me."

Mike opens his eyes, looking down at his grip on your hips. Ever so slightly, he shifts you forward. Your eyes flutter closed, lips parting to let out a small moan. Turns out that's all the encouragement Mike needs. He grinds you backward before roughly dragging you forward again. It's absolutely lewd.

"Fuck, Mike." You say breathlessly, chin dropping down to your chest, going completely pliable in his hands letting him move you. He can only stare incredulously at you, beyond shocked that this is really happening. He's waiting to jolt awake home alone in bed with a soiled pair of boxers at any moment.

But he doesn't, you're actually here. Sitting on his lap grinding a wet patch into his jeans. Mike hardly knows what to do with himself. Your body is warm between his hands, alive in ways he never thought to be possible. "Jesus," He whispers to himself, sweat dripping down his brow. “Fuck…!” Mike grits out, wrenching his head up to stare at the ceiling. “I can’t look”

He feels you falter the slightest bit, hips slowing down a fraction. “Why not?” You ask softly, a hint of insecurity puncturing your tough exterior.

“It’s too much,” Mike admits breathlessly, chest rising and falling rapidly. “I can’t look or I’ll come in my pants.”

You let out a small shocked laugh, but it’s quickly drowned out by another moan. Your body trembles with pleasure. "Shit, faster…go faster," You mutter, taking it upon yourself to speed things up. Hips moving frantically on his thigh. Your knee is still slotted tightly to his now aching cock, he can feel every move you make. The friction feels amazing, it's taking everything in him not to hump up against your leg like a horny dog. The heat from your body feels scalding.

The absolute vision you make sends Mike's nerves quivering. He needs more. He brings his hands up to your face, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb gingerly. Your eyes open, looking back at him, not ceasing your movements.

"Can I?" He pants, hoping to god you understand what he's asking. It takes you a second, but eventually you nod. He tips forward and seals your lips with his. His fingers sliding into your hair to hold your head in place as he kisses you.

He takes control of the kiss, tongue brushing against your bottom lip. You part your lips willingly for him, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He greedily swallows your moans, groaning all the while.

You break the kiss first, only a string of saliva connects your lips before breaking under the pressure of gravity. Your lips are swollen and red, glossy from kissing.

“Oh god…” Your whimpers ghost over his lips, forehead resting on his. “Oh, god, Mikey…”

“Yeah,” Mike replies, voice deep and scratchy from lack of use, he rolls his hips up the tiniest bit. “Yeah that’s it…Fuck you look so pretty, so pretty for me.”

You nod, hips moving even faster than before, losing the rhythm you’d built up. Your hands fumble down to furiously unzip his hoodie, tearing the zipper down to reveal his plain white tank top underneath. Your hands greedily rake down his chest, nails brushing over his nipples making him whimper out moan.

“Fuck Fuck Fuck, Mike,” You whine, grip tightening into the meat of his chest. He can tell your close without you even saying it.

“Fuck yes, come, come on my thigh.” Mike begs, gripping your hips so tightly it could border on painful.

“Shit! Mikey, I’m gonna come,” Your eyes are screwed shut, sweat making your hair stick to your face.

“Do it.” He pleads, not taking his eyes off your face.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Mike can feel your nails digging crescent moons in his chest as you careen over the edge. Hips stuttering as you ride out your orgasm, he can almost feel the way your pussy trembles as you work yourself through the aftershocks, cut off little moans forcing their way out of your mouth. Your body finally gives out, tipping forward to lean on his chest, wet breaths puffing against his neck.

Mike follows suit, eyes dropping closed as he unloads into his boxer shorts making a second wet patch seep into his jeans. Hips twitching up every other second. He moans loudly into your hair, trying and failing to muffle his noises.

When you both come back down, it’s silent for a few moments as you both wrack your brains for what to say. As always, you’re the first one to speak up.

“So…” You say between panting breaths, he can feel you start to smile against his neck. “Same time tomorrow?”

Mike chuckles up at the ceiling, pinching your waist lightly.

“Fuck off.”

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