#mine does not compare to this though

[veilkeeper]

in addition to lrb, i don't necessarily entirely agree with that post but i also don't... disagree with that post. in terms of my disagreement, i think there's value in having a leader who can inspire a group of talented, intelligent people and keep the team pointed in the right direction through the chaos. after all, that's essentially what varric also would have done had he survived. so i don't really doubt rook's place in the team, or why they lead.

(especially since, contrary to what people were saying in the notes of that post, rook does have something no one else does: a connection to solas. they are the only one who can talk to him and get information on ghilan'nain, elgar'nan, and the blight, and it is those conversations with him that the team can then work off of to make a plan. i think it's disingenuous to say that rook has no Special Circumstances that makes them the leader of the veilguard. no less special than previous world-saving protags, at least.)

however i do think more should have been done by the writers to make rook... more notable? when we first got news about the game, i thought we were going to be playing as an established member of a faction; if not a prodigy, at least someone who had done the work and was making a name for themself. then we actually get into the game and.... well. The faction reps at least vaguely know you, but in several instances you're barely on the radar. mercar is so low on the food chain they don't even know the viper's real name (despite that being information he'll give a completely unaffiliated rook basically as soon as they meet), and laidir is so replaceable that taash hasn't even ever heard of them. aside from your Big Fuck Up that got you sent to work with varric in the first place, there's no real indication that rook has ever done something worth noting, there's no skills or contacts or stories that can give you a leg up.

i feel like there was a missed opportunity—in the game, the factions feel more or less useless. rook gets some flavour dialogue that can be really fun, but they have no substantial impact on the story or in any of the quests. thorne can conscript the mayor of d'meta's crossing in a one-off unique interaction, and then for the rest of the game there's nothing for anyone else. rook is a [insert faction here], and it doesn't do anything. varric might as well have just grabbed a random guy off the street and said "you've got this, kid."

[backpackingspace]

I am once again thinking about my swinger! con artists! Odypen and diomedes being their much younger bratty thrid au

[scoliosisgoblin]

doodles and some lore. I'm tired.

[sheepalmighty]

Couldn't concentrate on a bunch of stuff I wanted to draw so I settled with drawing SIGNS UNAC merch shirts instead (modeled by a couple mercs)

[sskk-manifesto]

!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[satoblue]

“RESEMBLANCE” — gojo satoru

to satoru’s surprise, his first-born looks nothing like him. | wc: 1.0k+

f!reader, established relationship (you are mrs. gojo), pregnancy mention, you’re in the hospital after giving birth to your beautiful baby girl who looks a lot like you, satoru is a menace to society (and you), talks of sex (so may be a bit suggestive) | star divider by @/cafekitsune, swirl divider from pinterest + edited by me

the first few stages of emotions satoru feels upon seeing and holding his healthy, newborn baby girl in his arms are 1) relief, 2) joy, 3) surprise, and 4) confusion.

as he stares down at the child in his arms, that big mouth of his opens once and all havoc wreaks loose.

“this baby isn’t mine.”

the words are simple but not in meaning as it invokes such a reaction out of the nurses and you.

with a few, shocked gasps ringing in the air, you feel all eyes in the room aside from satoru’s (whom is still fixated on your newborn) come onto (the both of) you.

the heat on your cheeks in that moment is nothing compared to the utter rage brewing within you at his audacious behavior.

disbelief written all over your features, you try to ignore the avoidant side eyes of the medical staff. of all the times to spout some ridiculous nonsense, your husband chose now? — what the hell was he playing at? was this bastard accusing you of cheating?

“excuse me?! have you lost your mind?”

“i mean —” he licks his lips as if choosing his next words carefully (which he doesn’t). “she looks nothing like me. are you sure we got the right one?”

you can hear the whole world go silent aside from the beeping monitors in your hospital room. the nurses quickly (and wisely) hurry out.

“looks nothing like you?”, your eyes narrow, repeating his words dangerously low as if you were about to combust. he could practically see the steam coming out of your ears and holds back a chuckle.

“gojo satoru,” he winces at his full name. “that is your daughter — your daughter that i carried inside my stomach for months!”

and it was no easy feat.

perhaps it has something to do with satoru being the strongest, and in that way he has a mutant’s sperm — but your pregnancy was more difficult than the typical one which left you bedridden at only four months. and that is without even mentioning how your child felt the need to come earlier than her due date.

there should be absolutely no doubt in his mind that this is his child, one who is full of surprises right from birth.

“i know… but she doesn’t even have my hair or my nose or my lips! not even my big ears,” he pouts as he inspects the baby, turning her all sorts of (safe) ways to get a better look.

“all that there is, is you.” he finishes, gaze softening with a double meaning to his sentence, and he finally looks up at you sitting on the hospital bed.

“is this what this is about?”

“yes!”, a pitiful whine leaves his lips. “she should’ve come out looking exactly like me — my twin!”

“why does it even matter, ‘toru? she’s still yours in every way but appearance.”

“because, i want everyone to know i did this to you, that we made this child together — but my genes didn’t even put up a fight! how else will everyone who sees us together know you belong to me in such an irreversible way?”

then his sights dart to your stomach, hidden behind your thin hospital gown, his white brows furrowing. “maybe i didn’t fuck you hard enough…” he ponders, lips pursed.

his tone is low, but you hear it. your hands fly over your tummy to shield it from his piercing gaze, heat returning to your cheeks as you let out the scandalized gasp of the century.

there is a certain gleam in his eyes at your reaction — and you don’t like it one bit!

you think about hitting his head with the pillow to knock some sense into him (though it’d likely prove fruitless since his head is so big and boneheaded), but you’d save his beating for later when he isn’t holding your precious girl.

“you—”

with a sudden gasp, he reaches out a hand to you, waving it slightly to satiate your temper. he shushes you gently, whispering, “wait wait — she’s opening her eyes!”

quieting down, the both of you lean in, curious and in anticipation as your little one’s lashes flutter open slowly.

at what stares up at you, your lips part in sheer awe — and your husband stays uncharacteristically silent beside you.

“oh, satoru,” you absolutely melt.

with a coo, you whisper, “she has your eyes.” the very cerulean color you fell in love with once before and have again right now for the second time.

noticing how he hasn’t uttered a single thing, you look over next to you, before your eyes widen at the sight that greets you.

satoru, your husband, is crying. salty tears slip from his ducts and down his flushed cheeks, cute brows scrunched, blue clashing with blue for the first time.

“aw, baby. are you okay?” your own eyebrows knit together in worry and in contentment, noting his tears are of happiness.

all you get in response is a nonsensical blubber and a sniffle.

satoru’s heard it over a hundred times — how his eyes are pretty, beautiful, ethereal — even from you. he’s never cared much for it. to him, they were just eyes and the only value he saw in them is the power they gave him over others.

but now, he understands. and he thinks he’s starting to fall in love with them too.

“she’s so beautiful…” his lip wobbles, voice shaky and quieter than you’ve ever heard it.

“i know,” you breathe.

putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder, you smile. “happy now?” you’re barely able to conceal the amusement in your voice.

“mhm.” he hums, eyes still shimmering and glassy, lips in a pout.

“wanna go home?”

“yes, please.”

there’s nothing more that he wanted to do in that moment than take his baby girl to the loving sanctuary he deems the closest thing to heaven, his paradise — and he’s never letting her go.

extra:

“i can’t believe she only has my eyes, though. i guess i’ll just have to try harder next ti — ow! that hurt!”

[sofrosine]

sorry i just thought case and olly

attractiveness:

repulsive / hideous / ugly / not attractive / unappealing / not unattractive / meh / no preference / ok / mildly attractive / nice looking / cute / adorable / attractive / pleasant on the eyes / good looking / hot / sexy / beautiful / gorgeous / hot damn / would tap that / perfect / godlike / holy fuck there are no words.

personality:

grating / irritating / frustrating / boring / confusing at best / awkward / unreasonable / psychotic / disturbing / interesting / engaging / affectionate / aggressive / ambitious / anxious / artistic / bad tempered / bossy / charismatic / appealing / unappealing / creative / courageous / dependable / unreliable / unpredictable / predictable / devious / dim / extroverted / introverted / egotistical / gregarious / fabulous / impulsive / intelligent / sympathetic / talkative / up beat / peaceful / calming / badass / flexible.

how likely they would have sex with them:

not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending / fuck no! / never / no way / not likely / not sure / indifferent / I’m asexual / maybe / probably / it depends / fairly likely / likely / yeah sure / yes / would tap that / hell yes / fuck yes! / wishing that could happen right now / as many times as possible / we are already having sex.

level of friendship:

never in a million years / worst of enemies / enemies / rivals / indifferent / neutral / acquaintance / friendly toward each other / casual friends / friends / good friends / best friends / fuck buddies / bosom buddies / practically the same person / would die for them / true friends / my only friend.

first impression of them:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.

current impression of them:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them

[deepspacedandelion]

How They Would Talk To You In Bed: Love and Deepspace LI’s

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Warnings: Smut, little cursing, dirty talk, mentions of cum/slightly hinted creampie’s (wrap it ‘fo you tap it yall.”)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Caleb:

Caleb is a freak, low(high)key, so he’d be very vocal. He likes a little teasing (both giving and receiving) that is mixed with praise. Caleb loves to question you (in an EXTREMELY lewd way) and he wants you, not only to ACTUALLY answer but to question him as-well, not in a doubtful way, but in a reassuring (-ly lewd) way. He just wants to hear a self proclamation of your love and pleasure like he self-proclaims his. Nearing his climax, he’d absolutely LOVE reassurance from you that HE is YOURS—compared to the more commonly used (by male LI's) “you are mine”—, It’d make him cum so hard. HE knows you’re his, YOU know you’re his, and even though HE knows he’s yours, he wants to be told by you over and over again. He wants you to willingly claim him out of your own desire, not just because he claims you. Another thing I think he (his freaky ass) would LOVE is talking to your pussy. He relishes in the way the blush creeps up your cheeks and you get so shy, trying to hide your face from him (which he definitely wouldn't allow). He knows it drives you and her (your pussy) crazy, he can tell by how wet you're getting, how your legs shake subtly. Afterall, he knows his girls so well.

• "Hear that, baby? She's talking to me. She's begging me to fuck her so good, remind her who she belongs to."

• "Look at it, baby. Look how she's taking me so well. Look at how pretty she looks suckin' in my cock? All for you, right? No one else. They can't take it from you, I won't let them."

• "No, no. Don't hide. I want to see your pretty face when I make you cum all over my cock, yeah?"

• "I'm yours, baby, only yours. Let me show you, hm? Let me fuck my cum so deep in you and show you. You'd like that wouldn't you?"

• "So quiet now, are you, Pipsqeak? You were so mouthy earlier, now all I can hear is your pussy swallowing my fingers. How 'bout a few pretty moans for me? Let me know how good I'm making you feel."

Zayne:

Contrary to his seemingly less talkative nature, Zayne is actually quite vocal in bed (in terms of using actual words to express himself). Don’t get me wrong, he LOVES to moan and groan in your ear, your pussy always clenches so tight around him when he does, but he would LOVE to praise you (and receive a little for himself). His reputation as a medical professional requires him to be VERY specific which definitely translates well in the bedroom. His comments are always so specific, making you feel so seen. He tells you EXACTLY what he likes and EXACTLY how and why you’re doing so good. He'll throw in a few questions here and there, genuinely curious on how to make every time even better for you both. One last thing he'd include (mainly in foreplay) is some sexual observations he'd researched (he just wants to make you feel the best he can)

• “You’re taking me so well, My Love, always making me feel so good. Do you like to see me like this? Falling apart right above you?”

• "I love when you clench around me. Do it again and again. Yes~ Like that. You’re always such a good girl for me.”

• "Do you like kissing my neck that much? I like it too.”

• "Is it alright if I kiss you here? I think it could be another erogenous zone for you. Oh~ you must like it. Don’t worry, My Love, I won’t stop.”

• "Deep breaths, My Love, it could make your orgasm more powerful. Would you like to try that? I want you to enjoy yourself.”

Sylus:

Firstly, let me just start off by saying Sylus is EXTREMLY sensitive and reactive to your touch (*cough* Innocent Birdcage *cough*). I just know this man is a TRUE SWITCH but, anyway, anyway, He talks a little here and there, mostly about how good it feels, how close he is, where he wants you to touch him, how he wants you to touch him, and a little praise sprinkled in between, but, overall it’s mostly moans, groans, mewls, whimpers, and pants as he loses himself in the pleasure given to him by you. He can’t help how his head throws back or hangs low and his face scrunches up in ecstasy, eyes closed as he loses himself. He craves your touch all over his body, any and everywhere you can. Truthfully, he cums multiple times (atleast 2-3) every time you two make love. Majority of the time, he's a mewling, moaning mess, but he'll throw in a couple words every now and again. On the rare occasion though, he'd throw in a snide question (which he is genuinely asking, it's not rhetorical lol, so, definitely answer that, *cough* Nightly Rendezvous *cough*).

• "Are you teasing me? That's not very nice of you, Sweetie."

• “Have you forgotten how good I made you feel last time? It’s okay, Kitten. I don’t mind reminding you.”

• “I love being inside you this way. The two of us, becoming one, it’s my favorite thing. After all, we are true kindred spirits.”

• “What a pretty kitten you are. Does it feel good? Is that why you’re purring? My, my, kitten, you look ravishing.”

• “I want to look into your darling eyes when I cum inside you. Do you want that, sweetheart? Tell me you want that. Tell me you want me. Tell me who’s making you feel this good.”

Xavier:

Xavier is quite different from the rest of the bunch; not that he doesn’t talk or moan, but he does prefer to listen to you mostly. You just sound so pretty pinned beneath him. He absolutely LOVES to kiss, (*cough* Nightly Rendezvous *cough*), so his mouth is pretty occupied most of the time. But on occasion, he does enjoy dropping ‘comments’ (for lack of better terms), a little bit of praise, a few questions to reassure him, and lastly, the cherry on top, a few soft commands. Majority of his “bedroom sounds” is just the wet sounds of kissing, and a few pants/deep breaths to keep him grounded in the pleasure. But he is a sucker for eye contact, especially when he’s commenting on how good you feel.

• “Put your legs around my waist. I can get deeper that way.”

• “Oh! Right there~ It feels so good. I don’t think I can hold it much longer.”

• “Don’t stop, I’m almost there. I want to fill you up. I want to fuck it deeper into you. No! Don’t turn away. If you turn away, I’ll stop.”

• “Do you like when I touch you here? Or maybe you prefer… here. Is that why you bite your lip?”

• “You’re doing good, yes, please, more. Just like that and I’ll cum.”

Rafayel:

Oh boy. Rafayel is a bit of a wild card in my opinion, depending on his mood. He’s definitely a switch (from being a bratty sub ( *cough* Gem Affection *cough*) to a crybaby top (*cough* Tailwag Moment *cough*) to a soft dom, (*cough* Tipsy Evasion and Intertidal Zone *cough*), so his sounds do fluctuate, but when he’s a soft dom, they mostly range between: subtle praise, teasing, taunting questions, and snide comments. When he’s a crybaby top, he loves to moan and mewl but he also can’t help apologizing, he doesn’t mean to cum so fast, or grip you too hard, or to be too rough and incontrollable when he loses himself in how good you feel. As for being a bratty sub, oh boy, does he live to tease you. He pokes fun at your methods; how lightly you’re touching him, how you could tie him down tighter, how you could fuck him harder. He comments on your wavering confidence with a cocky smirk, but it’s all in good fun. He’d never actually say anything demeaning or something that would hurt your feelings (he’d cry if he ever did, oh no🥺, poor baby would be in shambles), but he’d poke just enough to see how much rougher you can get. He just wants to build your confidence in yourself, he knows you’re capable of putting him in his place (just the way he likes), and he wants you to know it too.

• (Bratty Sub): “C’mon, Princess, You can fuck me harder than that. I know you can.”

• (Bratty Sub): “Growing bolder, I see. I didn’t expect that from you. Oh? A punishment? Maybe that’s what I wanted in the first place.”

• (Crybaby Top): “I’m sorry, Princess. I didn’t mean to cum so soon. I can’t help it, you just make me feel too good.”

• (Crybaby Top): “I’ve been good, I’ve been so good for you I swear. Please… please let me cum inside you again. Just one more time.”

• (Soft Dom): “You’re getting wetter and wetter, like ocean waves. I like that.”

• (Soft Dom) “Yes, touch me, just like that. Gently, up and down. Ah yes~ So obedient for me. Maybe I should give you a reward. Would you like that? I knew you would, Princess.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Kinda debating how much I like this, but yeah, they all freaks lowkey. Next up is probably more ships, but I definitely have some more (smut) ideas brewing😏 as always, feel free to send in any requests!~😌🫶🏽💙

[viktorbot]

there's this cool thing computers do called "making no sense" and I'm in the business of continuing to not understand them

[criminalyapping]

due for trouble | you're mine

the pitt masterlist main masterlist

pairing: jack abbot x f!reader

a/n: i'm actually going to murder my keyboard i am so done with the extra letters and spaces you're gonna yell at me about the end but i'll pick up straight where this leaves off tomorrow :)

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, language, the girls are fighting!! he's big mad, they yell, etc. gets saucy near the end but no smut

< part 5 | part 7 >

Jack loves working on the night shift. He loves his coworkers, being able to watch the sun rise, and he loves the relative peace in his shift when compared to what he knows the day shift is like.

Lately, he's been thinking about the downsides, though.

When the baby is here, god, he's having a baby, but when it's here does that just mean that its your job to take care of it all night and then go to work all day? He can afford daycare no problem, but maybe he should look into nighttime nurse for you. He adds it to the mental list of things he needs to figure out.

There's approximately 4 million other things on his list as well.

It's another of his string og three days off, and he's seated on his couch trying to enjoy a movie that he put on. He'd much rather be with you, but you're out with your friends at some new country bar that popped up.

When you had first told him your plans for the night, he cringed. Thinking about the hot, sweaty environment you must be in, the opportunities for slips and falls on the sticky dance floor, and in his darkest thoughts, the possibility of you getting something put in your drink, regardless of if it was just water or a soda.

But be a controlling ass he will not, so he wished you and your friends a fun night and left it at that.

He's regretting that now as he looks at his phone and the message he got from your friend Emily. He scrambles for his reading glasses, slips them on, and inspects the text message thouroughly, trying to decipher it.

'miss girl fully eating with her fit'

She had sent along a photo as well, highlighting your cowgirl boots, your cute little sundress, and the intricate way that you had styled your hair for the evening. Jack, however, is focused on the tall cowboy character that you're talking to in the picture, smiling up at him as he looks down at you.

He puts his phone down, biting his lip and thinking about how hard he wants to take this. He's not taking it well overall.

'Do you guys need a ride home?'

He asks. It's about 11:30 now, so he would be able to get there at midnight, which he thinks is a perfect time to leave a country bar.

He's already up and changing out of his sweatpants before he gets a text back.

'uhhhh we were all going to get an uber home'

Emily had texted back.

Jack rolls his eyes.

'I'm on my way, be there in 30'

Jack has a white-knuckled grip on his steering wheel as he gets closer to the bar and finds a parking space.

He has to wait in line to get in and pay a $15 cover, which only sours his mood more. He's borderline seething as he enters, his eyes quickly scanning the open space.

He finally spies you, standing at the bar talking to someone.

Instead of being your friends, it's a tall, cowboy-hat wearing tool with a few too many buttons undone on his shirt.

He makes his way through the bar to you, and you don't even notice his presence until he has wormed his way into your conversation, standing directly in front of you.

Your eyes flick over, at first just preturbed about the man in your space, then your expression shifts to shock and a little bit of fear. The look on his face must be severe.

"Jack..." you trail off, "what are you doing here?" you ask.

"Emily texted me." he says, "I'm here to give you all a ride home." he says.

The man you've been talking to seems to think now is a good time to speak up.

"Hey, man, we're in the middle of talking," he argues.

"Not anymore," Jack says, grabbing your wrist and pulling you along with him as he turns to go.

"Jack," you start to argue as he sucessfully pulls you away from the man, deeper into the bar and looking for the other three.

"Not right now." he cuts you off harshly, not letting go of your wrist.

You trail behind him as he finds the other three, and goes to leave with the four of you trailing behind him like ducklings. You give Emily a severe look, pointedly looking down at your wrist caught in his grasp and back to her.

She looks a little guilty, but the look she shares with Jada afterwards tells you that they're enjoying this.

Jack unlocks hiis truck, opening the passenger door for you and then shutting it hard after you're seated.

As he climbs in the drivers side, he opens his phone and gives it to the backseat.

"Where am I going first?' he asks. Jada lives closest, so she types in her address and Jack pulls out of his parking space.

The car is silent, an unseen tension filling the air as he makes his way around the city dropping off your friends.

As Jack pulls up to his home, you scoff.

"What?" he asks in a monotone voice.

"Can you take me home, too? I thought that was where we were going." you ask snidely.

"No," he disagrees, "we're going to go in and we're going to talk." he tells you.

"Oh, are we?" you argue.

"Yeah," he says, getting out of the car and rounding to the other side, opening your door. "Come on," he urges.

You roll your eyes and clilmb out of the truck gingerly. Jack keeps a hand on yoour shouder like you're about to run away as you walk to his door.

As soon as his door is shut behind him, you lay into him.

"What the fuck was that?" you ask, not quite yelling but definitely close.

"I was trying to have a good time with my friends," you complain.

"Your friends? Your friends who were halfway across the bar while you flirted with some guy?" he spits.

"Oh, fuck off," you scoff.

"No, no tell me." he insists, "Tell me about how much fun you were having."

You roll your eyes again and turn away from him. He grabs your shoulders and angles you towards him. He's standing close enough that your head has to be tilted back to look at him.

He looks pissed. His eyes are wide, a red tinge covering his whole face and neck, and his intense look is focused soley on you.

"I told you," you start, measured, "that I was going out out of courtesy," you spit, "I can do what I want, and it was not okay for you to show up and ruin our night-" you're interrputed when Jack cuts you off.

"Ruin your night?" he repeats.

"Yeah, ruin our night!" now you really are yelling. "You show up, make us all go home, and for what? For what, Jack, so stake some kind of claim?" you yell. "You're not my boyfriend, Jack!" you yell.

Jack chuckles wryly, looking up at the ceiling for a moment.

"You know," he starts, crowding into your space again, grasping the tops of your arms. "I don't have to stake any claim," he tells you lowly. "I don't have to, because I already fucking did," he says, pressing you against the length of his body. "I didn't think I had to spell it out for you, but I will." he continues.

"You're mine," he says, and you open your mouth to argue, but he stops you before you can.

"And don't argue, okay? I'm telling you." he's all but whispering now, his face a few milimeters from yours as he speaks with an intensity that has your toes curling in your boots.

"You're mine," he repeats. "I'm not just around because of the baby, but it gives me a damn good excuse." he tells you. "Call me your boyfriend, or your baby daddy, I don't give a shit. You want to call me your fiance and I'll go get a ring right now," he growls. "But whatever you want to call it, you're all mine, and you need to get that through your head."

Despite being 100% sober, his words give you a floaty feeling in your heads as you struggle to put together a string of words, intoxicated by his presence.

"And I get no say in this?" you finally ask.

"I think," he starts, "that if you really wanted to put up a fight, that I wouldn't have even gotten you out of that bar, let alone into my house." he argues. "I think you just wanted to put up a fight and be a little brat."

You don't say anything, but look up into his eyes and keep your gaze locked there.

"Am I right?" he asks.

You roll your eyes and try to move away, only to be stopped by his renewed grasp on you, pulling you into him as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

"You wanna be mine, baby," he says into your cheek, "that's okay," he assures. He drags his lips down the side of your face and presses his lips to yours in a messy kiss.

His tongue plunges into your mouth annd tangles with yours, overpowering any attempt you make at turning the tides of the kiss. He wrenches his lips from yours and skims them down your neck, leaving licks and kisses and at least one bite, for good measure.

"Yeah, I do," you agree breathily as his mouth works on your collarbone.

"Yeah, you do," he parrots around your skin, "good girl," he sighs.

tagging: @michasia24 @veggieburgerwrites @bruher @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @catmomstyles3 @qardasngan @fuckalrighty @rae4725 @beebeechaos @thatssomebadhat89 @cari87 @livingdeadblondequeen @wowitsafemale @neonpurplestars89-blog

let me know if you want a tag!

[princesevsnape]

Slytherin Boys React - First Kiss

Characters: Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle, Draco Malfoy, Lorenzo Berkshire, Blaise Zabini & Tom Riddle

A/N: I may have gotten a little bit carried away with Tom’s. Everyone’s seems shorter compared to his . Definitely not sorry though

Theodore Nott:

It happens in a quiet corner of the Slytherin common room

You’re sat together away from everyone else because he wanted to spend time with just you

You and him had been flirting with each other for a long time but nothing ever happened between you two until now.

In all honesty he might be a little nervous

He keeps staring at your lips

He leans in slowly giving you time to pull away

His hand cups your cheek as he places a soft kiss on your lips

He pulls away searching your eyes for any sign that you enjoyed it or disliked it. Anything so he knows whether he can kiss you again or not.

He’s surprised when you pull him back in for another kiss. This time more hungry. More passionate.

Mattheo Riddle:

It happens in an abandoned classroom.

You had been in a heated argument about the way he acts towards you.

Flirting with you but never doing anything. Being possessive when other guys flirt with you. But never making you his.

The air was thick with tension.

Before you knew it you were pushed up against the wall. His body against yours. A darkness in his eyes. Staring at you.

Then his lips were on yours.it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was rough. Fierce.

He has one hand roughly gripping your waist. The other buried in your hair. You have both of your hands in his hair

When he pulls away you’re both breathing heavily.

“Mine” is all he says before roughly kissing you again

Draco Malfoy:

It would be in a secluded area.

He’d corner you and have you backed against a wall

He’s reluctant to kiss you

He has feelings for you but he’s afraid to admit them, or rather too proud to admit them

He’d probably try intimidating you a little not to scare you but to give you a chance to run away from him

When you don’t run he slowly leans in hesitating to try and read your expression

The kiss is soft at first, then it’s desperate.

He kisses you like his life depends on it

One hand on your waist the other on the back of your neck pulling you close to him

He’d bite your lip as he’s pulling away

You’re both breathing heavily

He’ll say something like “this doesn’t change anything”

But it does, because he keeps coming back for more. Always dragging you into a quiet alcove or an abandoned classroom. He just can’t get enough of you

Lorenzo Berkshire:

He’d choose somewhere romantic

Like the astronomy tower at night watching the stars

He’d be very flirty and teasing with you

He’d be very outspoken saying something like “I can’t stop thinking about you.” Or “I can’t stop imagining what it would be like to kiss you

He’d stare directly into your eyes as he lifts your chin up as he leans in to kiss you

Of course he’s a gentleman so he’d ask you “can I kiss you?”

When you nod he’s very gentle. His lips soft. He’s a gentle kisser. Until you reach up and grab a fistful of his hair then he’s desperate and passionate.

When he pulls away he caresses your cheek, or tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

He’d peck your lips again and again.

He’d rest his forehead against yours

He’d hold you close to him not wanting to let you go

Blaise Zabini:

He chooses a quiet corner in the Slytherin common room

He’d start by complimenting you

His eyes would keep flickering to your lips as you talk to him

He’d stroke your face claiming “there was an eyelash on your cheek” just so he could touch you

He watches the way you blush at his touch

He’d take his sweet time, he’s desperate to kiss you but doesn’t want to ruin anything

He’d slowly start inching closer to you. Like moving to sit closer to you so when the time is right he can lean in and kiss you

He might wrap an arm around your shoulder or place his hand on top of yours to get you to look at him

When you do he starts leaning in, but he stops halfway. He doesn’t want to force you into anything so he waits for you to close the distance between you

When you do the kiss is soft. Small little pecks that get more heated and turn into a full on snogging session

After he pulls away he’d say something like “not bad” causing you to playfully slap his arm.

He’d chuckle before pulling you in for another kiss

Tom Riddle:

It would happen in the restricted section of the library after hours

He’d drag you along under the pretense that he needed help with something.

He’d get you to help him search books, he doesn’t tell you exactly what it is he’s looking for but he just says to check everything and if anything important comes up to show him.

Obviously he doesn’t care about looking for anything he just wanted you here with him

He’d stare at you. It would feel like he’s looking straight into your soul

You’d be sat on the floor looking through books whilst he is standing up leaning against one of the shelves

“Tom it would help me if I knew what you were looking for” you’d say as your looking thought multiple books in front of you

You wouldn’t notice that he had been slowly inching closer and closer to you until he’s towering over you

Looking up at him you’d gulp, seeing the darkness in his eyes.

“Put the books down and stand up” he’d command.

You’d do as he says. You know it would be a death wish to get on the wrong side of him

He’d push you so your back was against one of the shelves, he’d lean down inches away from your face

“”You’re not afraid of me are you?” He’d ask as he notices your breathing getting heavier.

When you shake your head he’d chuckle slightly. He’d say “well you should be”

Expecting you to run away he’d be surprised when you stand your ground.

But he’d be even more intrigued by you. And he’d want to kiss you even more. Yet he still takes his time.

As he continues to stare into your soul he’d lick his lips. Like a predator stalking its prey

He’d slowly lean in as if to kiss you but stopping when his lips are only inches away from yours

Finally after what seems like an enternity he’d crash his lips against yours.

The kiss is rough, and intense.

His hand on the back of your neck

It’s possessive. He’s showing you that you are now his.

After he pulls away he smirks at you being all flustered.

He kisses you again a bit softer this time. A slight glimmer that he does actually care. Which would be a rareity

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter Fourteen

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, jealous lando, protective grid, sexual content

Notes — Welcome to the 2021 Formula One season! (Testing, but still... it counts). Also... hehehehehehehe double update <3

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

2021

WhatsApp Groupchat — 2021 F1 Grid

Lewis H. A warm welcome to our 2021 rookies! Mick, and Yuki :)

Lando N. Yeah, welcome or whatever More importantly, does anyone know if I can call up the Apple store in Woking and get them to deliver to me? Even though it’s closed rn

Lewis H. What happened? Did her iPad break?

Lando N. Yeah mate, completely toast.

Max V. Shit. I can have one express delivered to your flat, Lando. It is, of course, a work expense.

Yuki T. Uh hey I guess! I thought this was a work only chat? Did I get the wrong briefing?

George R. It usually is, but as admin I allow Amelia-based chat @Yuki

Mick S. Hey! Great to be here. Um, just curious though. Who is Amelia?

Max V. My lead technical engineer.

Lando N. My girlfriend.

Lewis H. Zak Brown’s daughter.

Fernando A. Her iPad is broken? I will bring her one now. Lando, send me your home address.

Mick S. Ohhh, I actually know Amelia Brown!

Lando N. ?????????? @Mick

Fernando A. Lando you have not sent me your address.

Max V. @Fernando I have already purchased the iPad.

Mick S. @Lando we met years ago, mate. She used to ski with her family where mine did in the winter.

Lando N. You heard the part where she’s my girlfriend, yeah @Mick?

Mick S. Yes…

Lando N. Good.

Fernando A. @Max She will need it delivered to her soon.

Charles L. It finally broke? Wow. Lasted far longer than I believed it would.

Lando N. @Charles Not a good time for jokes, mate. She’s devastated

Daniel R. Should I start carrying a spare iPad to races with me just in case? LOL.

Lando N. Wait that’s a good idea Somebody write that down Max write that down

Max V. I purchased three. I will carry the spares

Fernando A. Vamos, Max!

Pierre G. I bet the rookies are so confused lmao. Welcome to the grid group chat. We discuss penalties, race conditions, plane shares, and Amelia Brown.

Carlos S. @Lando How is she? Did she freak out?

Lando N. She’s good now. All chill.

Lewis H. Tell her that I just bought her a new bunny sticker book. I’ll give it to her at testing.

Lance S. If I buy her the entire Apple company, do you think she will come and fix the Aston Martin car?

Max V. NO.

Yuki T. This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen in any grid group chat, and the f2 chat used to get weird lol

George R. Welcome to the grid, Yuki. Keep your head on straight, and if you ever find a lost iPad with a bunny sticker on it anywhere in the paddock, make sure it gets back to Amelia asap

Lando N. Thats important for all of the rookies to know @Mick @Yuki 

Mick S. Sure I’ll keep an eye out!

Lando N. Actually I change my mind Mick if you see an iPad just leave it yeah :) 

Mick S. ????

Pierre G. This is going to be a great year. 

Checo P. All of the other drivers have this chat muted, yes?

Kimi R. Yes. 

— 

Amelia was crouched down by Max's car, her hand resting on the tire as she scanned through the data on her iPad. The numbers on the screen felt too slow, almost static, compared to the racing thoughts racing through her head.

Beside her, Jos loomed over her, a red-ink pen poised above her little black notebook. He was taking notes for her. Her mind was moving faster than her hands could keep up, and sometimes, just sometimes, she needed someone like him, methodical, steady, and patient, to help her process it all.

Her fingers flicked over the screen, swiping through the data from Max's morning run, when she paused, eyes flicking to Jos. “You see what I see?” she asked, her voice low, as if speaking any louder might break the delicate focus she’d managed to carve out for herself.

Jos nodded, his eyes scanning the information on the screen before looking back down at the scribbles he’d started in her notebook. “More rear stability in the high-speed corners. We’ll need to adjust the dampers again,” he said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact.

Amelia’s eyes tightened slightly as she thought. “We might need to soften the rear more. The front’s too reactive. Max is going to be fighting it in corners three and four, especially.” She tapped the screen lightly, zooming in on the section of the track map. “The car’s settling into a snap too fast, can’t keep up with the rear load in the high-speed sections.”

Jos made a mark in her notebook. “Front end’s still too eager, then?” He sighed. 

“Yeah, exactly,” Amelia made a face. “We soften that just a little bit more. Max needs more confidence in the corners. Less initial bite, more consistency. Maybe tweak the ride height slightly too.” Her words were coming faster now as the solution to their issues fell into place in her brain. 

As the day wore on, Max’s car was fine-tuned with the adjustments, and Amelia watched on with satisfaction as everything came together in perfect harmony. 

They had a plan. The tweaks would work. Max would be happy with the handling.

She turned to Jos when the mechanics started to wheel Max’s car back into the garage for the final time, day one of testing officially over, giving him a small but appreciative smile.

He pulled her notebook out of the pocket of his jeans and handed it over. “I hope you can understand my handwriting.” 

— 

Amelia sat opposite Max at one of the small team tables in the Red Bull hospitality unit. Most of the staff had already filtered out for the night, their voices fading down the hallway as engineers, PR reps, and mechanics headed for shuttles and taxis. But the two of them lingered — Amelia, still editing Jos’ scribbled notes from earlier in the day, and Max, who had quietly gotten into the habit of not leaving until she did.

It was almost sweet. He dropped her off to Lando at her hotel room at the end of every day like she was a preschooler getting passed between divorced parents. She hadn’t said anything about it, partly because it was practical, and partly because she didn’t mind it. It was nice not to have to worry about being alone.

Across from her, Max was hunched low in his chair, arms folded tight across his chest, mouth set in a hard line. His gaze flicked from the tabletop to her notebook and back again, a rhythm she’d seen a hundred times before. It meant he was thinking. Hard. Or more likely, overthinking.

She didn’t bother looking up. “Just say it.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You’ve been fidgeting with your straw for six minutes. It’s starting to irritate me.”

Max exhaled through his nose, leaning back into the bench with a groan. “You are very annoying.”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, finally meeting his eyes. “Max, tell me.”

He hesitated, then shifted forward, resting his elbows on the table. There was a pause, a rare, tentative kind, and then, quieter than usual, he said, “I’m nervous.”

That made her put the pen down.

“For the season?” she asked, although she already suspected the answer.

Max nodded. “Everyone keeps saying 2021 is my year. Like it’s inevitable. Like this is it. And I want it — Fuck, I want it so bad. I’ve worked for it my whole life. But now that it’s here, I don’t know…” He rubbed a hand down his face. “What if it doesn’t happen?”

“It might not,” Amelia said plainly.

Max looked like he wanted to argue, but stopped short, blinking at her. “Comforting.”

“You’re not asking for comfort,” she said. “You’re asking if you’re good enough. And yes, you are. But this sport doesn’t always care about that.”

He let that sit for a moment. Nodded.

Then, quieter still, “There’s something else.”

Amelia raised an eyebrow.

“I met someone. Over the break.”

She made a face. “Someone?”

He groaned. “Don’t do the eyebrow thing.”

She relaxed her face. “Who did you meet?”

Max scratched at the edge of the table. “I met her in Monaco. She’s nice. A lawyer . She thinks I’m just… Max. I didn’t tell her about the racing. About… everything. She doesn’t follow F1.”

Amelia leaned forward slightly. “So she doesn’t know who you are.”

He shrugged helplessly. “She knows who I am. Just not… what I do.”

Amelia tilted her head. “And you like that?”

“I think so,” he said. “It’s peaceful. She talks to me like a normal person. No hero-worship, no pressure. Just… calm.”

“You’re lying to her, essentially,” she said bluntly. “Not a good foundation for a relationship.”

He shot her a withering look. “Jesus. You’re worse than my dad.”

“I take that as a compliment. We have the same goal.”

“I know.”

She looked down at her notebook, flipping a page and skimming it for a second. “You think you can manage both? A relationship and a championship battle?”

He hesitated. “Is that selfish?”

“No,” she said, then looked back at him. “But it might be a bit stupid.”

Max chuckled dryly. “Thanks.”

“I’m not saying you can’t have both,” Amelia added. “I’m just saying that it probably won’t work.” 

He frowned, nodded slowly, then said, “But you’re managing your relationship and my championship.”

“I’m not the one driving the car, Max.” She argued. 

“Still,” he muttered. “You’re making it work. I could make it work.”

She shrugged. “Okay. Is she nice?”

Max nodded, “I almost ran her over.”

She blinked at him. “Oh. That’s… romantic?” She tried. 

He laughed shortly. “She was in a rush, didn’t look properly. I apologised and gave her a ride to work. She— she, uh, thinks that I’m just some wealthy businessman’s son, or something.”

She chewed on her bottom lip, anxiety curling in the pit of her stomach. “You should stop lying to her. I would… I would not like it if I was in that situation and I found out that I was being lied to.” 

Max sighed. Nodded. 

Then he stood, grabbed both their jackets, and slung hers over the back of her chair. “Come on. Let’s get you to your boyfriend before he starts texting me again asking where you are.”

She gave him a flat look. “He has a GPS tracker on my phone.” 

Max rolled his eyes. “Of course he does. Typical Norris.”

She shrugged. “It’s sweet. Sometimes I get lost and he has to come and find me.” 

Max laughed, and for the first time all day, some of the tightness left his posture. “Yeah,” he said, holding the door open for her. “Probably good that he has it, then.” 

— 

The lights of Manama twinkled in the distance, warm and hazy against the desert night. From the balcony of their hotel suite, the city looked like it belonged to another world; quiet and golden and slow in a way the paddock never was. The hum of the air conditioning inside was replaced by the occasional distant honk of a car, or the hush of wind weaving through the palm trees below.

Amelia was seated cross-legged on one of the outdoor chairs, wrapped in a white robe, her hair still damp from her shower. Lando, in a t-shirt and joggers, was fiddling with a tiny bottle opener, attempting to open a bottle of some obscure sparkling drink he’d insisted was “romantic, okay baby? Trust me.”

Their room service tray sat between them on the small table. Grilled flatbreads, mezze, roasted lamb. Lando had ordered for them and he’d gotten everything right.

“I don’t know how you always remember this stuff,” she said, dipping a piece of bread into a tangy yogurt sauce.

Lando grinned, finally getting the bottle open with a victorious pop. “Because I listen when you talk. I know the face you make when you think something tastes bad or has a yucky texture. I have eyes. Shocking, I know.”

Amelia gave him a pointed look. “Last week, you kissed my eyeball because you were being lazy and tried to kiss me with your eyes closed.”

“Shut up.” He huffed. 

She laughed quietly, curling into him, giving him a bit of the blanket. “I think Max might be in love,” she said suddenly.

Lando blinked. “Max? Verstappen?”

“Mm,” she nodded, chewing. “He told me today that he met someone over the winter. She doesn’t know who he is. Like, really doesn’t know. Thinks he’s just some rich guy named Max.”

Lando made a face. “That… feels impossible.”

“She’s apparently very disconnected. Doesn’t follow the sport. Max likes it.”

Lando nodded slowly. “Weird. But kind of sweet, I guess.”

She frowned at him. “I told him he shouldn’t be dating during a title fight.”

“Very romantic of you.” Lando teased. 

She shrugged. “I never said I was romantic.”

“No,” he said. “But you are.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t disagree. Instead, she reached for his hand where it rested on the table, her fingers brushing over his lightly. “I hope you do very well this year, Lan.” She told him, earnest and hopeful. “You deserve it.” 

Lando turned his hand over to lace their fingers together. “So do you. Deserve to do well, I mean. You’ve worked so hard this past year. You deserve to see it pay off.”

Amelia didn’t say anything right away. She just leaned over and kissed him; soft, sweet, clinging. It wasn’t meant to lead anywhere at first, just a thank you. But she didn’t pull away. And he didn’t let her go.

She ended up in his lap, her legs curled against his chest, her robe brushing his knees. His hands slid instinctively around her back, fingers splaying wide against the thin fabric, grounding her. Grounding himself.

They stayed like that for a long time. The balcony lights dimmed behind them. The city hummed faintly in the distance, the last remnants of dinner cooling on the table, the silence between them easy.

Then, gently, she climbed off of him and stood. Her bare feet whispered against the tile as she stepped forward, and she stopped just in front of where he sat, between his knees. Her eyes searched his face for a beat, then she reached for the hem of his t-shirt.

“Come inside with me?”

Lando’s breath caught slightly. He looked up at her, her expression steady, soft, open, and nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

Inside, the hotel room was cast in warm light, golden from a low bedside lamp. The curtains were drawn against the city, muffling the world outside. The bed was turned down, sheets crisp, pillows fluffed. A quiet kind of invitation.

She tugged him by the hand toward the bed, and he followed without a word, heart thudding in his chest.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t awkward.

There was a kind of reverence to the way they undressed, slow, curious. Amelia’s robe slipped from her shoulders, caught briefly on her elbows before pooling at her feet. Lando’s hands hovered just for a second before brushing up her arms, like he was making sure she wouldn’t vanish if he touched her too quickly.

Their kisses deepened, still hesitant but filled with intent, with the weight of everything they’d been building toward for over a year. Every laugh, every shared moment of delicate intimacy, every time they’d caught each other’s eyes across a garage or a hotel lobby, it all settled into the space between them.

Lando’s mouth trailed across her skin with an almost startled sort of wonder, like he was learning a language he’d been waiting to speak. Her fingers threaded through his curls, tugging gently when his lips brushed the hollow of her throat. They moved together with quiet urgency, limbs tangled, breath catching against skin.

At one point, Lando paused, hovering just above her, his eyes sweeping across her face, flushed, focused, real.

“You’re so... fuck,” he whispered, barely audible.

Amelia blinked, lips curling faintly. “Not sure that’s a compliment.”

He kissed the curve of her shoulder, then her collarbone. “It is,” he murmured. “It really is.”

And when they finally settled under the covers, tangled together with her head tucked beneath his chin, Lando let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

She didn’t say much, but her fingers curled into his shirt like she wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon, and that was enough. 

— 

The sunlight was already creeping through the sliver of the curtains when Lando stirred, warmth pooling low in his stomach before he was even fully awake. For a moment, he didn’t move, just blinked up at the ceiling, trying to remember if he’d dreamt the night before, or if it had really happened.

Then she shifted against him.

Amelia was tucked beneath his arm, hair a little wild against his chest, one bare leg tangled over his. Her cheek was pressed just below his collarbone, lips slightly parted, her breath steady and warm against his skin.

Definitely not a dream.

He smiled, slow, stupid, unbelievably content.

She felt it too, maybe, his laugh or the way his fingers brushed along her back, because she mumbled something that sounded vaguely like a complaint and burrowed closer, clearly not ready to be awake yet.

Lando tilted his head, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Morning, baby.”

She made a noise that was more sigh than word. “Mm. No.”

“No what?”

“No talking,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep. “Too early.”

He laughed quietly, the sound muffled by her hair. “It’s almost seven.”

“Too early for you to be this cheerful.” She grumbled.

Lando shifted just enough to look down at her, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. “I’m not cheerful.”

“You’re smiling.”

He smiled wider. “Can you blame me?”

She cracked an eye open, blinking up at him. Her face was still soft from sleep, a little puffy and makeup-free, but to him, she looked... ridiculously beautiful.

“What?” she asked, because he was staring.

“Nothing,” he said, brushing his thumb along her jaw. “I just really like waking up next to you.”

Her expression shifted slightly. And then, a second later, she exhaled and said quietly, “I like it, too.”

Lando kissed her, just a little one, lazy and warm.

They lay tangled in the sheets, the morning light spilling gently across the room. For a while, neither of them moved, perfectly content to exist in the quiet, wrapped up in warmth and each other.

Eventually, Amelia stirred, shifting just enough to reach over to the nightstand. She blinked blearily at her phone and then sighed and glanced across the room.

“Shit,” she muttered. “I forgot to charge my iPad.”

Lando, still half-asleep, pressed a slow kiss to her bare shoulder. “I plugged it in when I got up in the middle of the night to go for a piss.”

She turned to look at him, her expression soft, a little surprised. Her voice came quiet. “You did?”

He nodded, eyes still heavy with sleep. “Didn’t want you waking up to it dead.”

A pause. Then she gave him the smallest pout, sleepy and affectionate and so purely her. “I love you.”

He broke into a grin, one of those quiet, full-body smiles that lived in his eyes. “Yeah,” he murmured, brushing her hair back. “I love you too.”

—

The McLaren motorhome was buzzing with early morning energy, the consistent hum of coffee machines working overtime. Amelia slipped through the front doors with her badge swinging around her neck, hair still damp from a rushed shower, and Lando trailing behind her, half-yawning into a croissant.

Zak spotted them first, already seated at one of the corner tables with Daniel, who was halfway through a heaping plate of scrambled eggs and talking animatedly about something.

“There’s my girl,” Zak called, waving them over.

Amelia dropped into the seat beside her dad with a tired sigh. “Morning, dad.” She kissed his cheek. 

“You sound tired,” he frowned at her, sipping his coffee.

Lando slid into the chair beside her, nudging her with his knee under the table. She handed him a napkin in response, gesturing for him to wipe the crumbs away from his face, and he smiled. 

Daniel looked between them, eyebrows raised. “You must be Amelia. I’m Daniel. Can’t actually believe we’ve not met properly before now.” 

“I know.” Amelia agreed, already reaching across the table for a muffin.

Daniel leaned in a little, grinning. “Lando talks about you all the damn time. In debriefs, pre-race meetings, on his radio—”

“Please stop talking,” Lando glared at his new teammate, clearly embarrassed.

“She’s worth talking about,” Zak laughed, patting Amelia on the shoulder with a fond smile.

Daniel smirked at Lando, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. Lando just narrowed his eyes at him, his cheeks flushing slightly.

Amelia took another bite of her muffin, savouring her food. But before she could finish, her phone buzzed violently against the table. It was from Max.

iMessage — 7:33am

Max Verstappen Are you here, sister? I want to talk about my steering set-up

Amelia On my way to you now.

She shoved the rest of her muffin into her mouth and stood up in one swift motion. “Okay. I gotta go.”

Lando looked up, surprised. “Already?”

Amelia kissed him quickly on the cheek, her lips lingering for just a second longer than expected. She gave her dad a quick shoulder squeeze before smiling at Daniel, her usual bluntness softened by a bit of shyness she wasn’t used to showing in front of him. “Max wants my advice.”

Zak called after her with a grin. “Tell Jos I want my daughter back for lunch.”

“No promises,” she replied with a glance over her shoulder, already speed-walking toward the exit. Her hair bounced with each step, and her phone was pressed to her ear before she even made it out of the motorhome.

Daniel leaned toward Lando as she disappeared down the hallway. “You’re screwed, brother.”

Lando shot him a look, kicking him under the table. “Shut up.”

— 

WhatsApp Groupchat — 2021 F1 Grid

Yuki T. I have Amelia’s iPad in AlphaTauri garage

Lewis H. Yeah, this has to be a new record.

Lando N. Lol she’s just been rly busy. Probably hasn’t noticed she hasn’t got it yet

Max V. She just noticed and started freaking out. @Yuki I’m on my way to get it.

Lando N. She okay @Max?

Max V. Yes mate, no need to worry.

Mick S. @Max Can I pop by your garage and say hi to her? It’s been years!

Lando N. @Max Say no. Max, say no. Max, say no.

Max V. @Mick No, she is too busy for friends.

Lando N. LMAO, REKT @Mick.

Mick S. Bro????? I really don’t want to steal your girlfriend 😭

Fernando A. You do not believe my Amelia is good enough for you, Schumacher?

Max V. What the fuck Mick

Charles L. Uh oh 😬😬

Pierre G. Bro that was NOT the right thing to say 😭

Max V. @Mick She wouldn’t even look your way. 

Lando N. Wild angle, mate @Mick

George R. We are witnessing a man dig his own grave live in chat

Daniel R. *shovels faster* Keep going, Mick. Say you think she’s boring next.

Sebastian V. This feels like bullying.

Yuki T. I think it is  

Carlos S. @Mick Just lie down. Accept it. The storm will pass.

Mick S. I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT 😭😭😭 I literally just meant she’s your girlfriend and I respect that! @Lando

Lando N. Sure you did. 

Fernando A. In my country we have a saying — "Schumacher has placed his own foot in his own mouth."

Lewis H. Pick your words better next time yeah? @Mick

Lance S. This is why rookies don’t get access to Amelia.

Esteban O. Wait does that mean I have access to Amelia?

Max V. No.

Fernando A. Absolutely not.

Lando N. You do not.

Valtteri B. I do not speak much in this chat but I just want to say: Mick, this is very funny.

Antonio G. +1

Nicholas L. same 😭

Sebastian V. Let it be a lesson to all of us. Never try to be polite in here. It will be weaponised.

Charles L. I miss when this chat was about tyre pressures and strategy.

George R. That’s adorable. It’s never been that.

NEXT CHAPTER

[mina-org]

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five you're reading part six!!

Seriously? Fuck this shit

You can’t move the frown, it’s stuck to you. What were you supposed to do? you had refused to go out with sabre because you didn’t have any money and now no electricity, your phones dead, you can’t even text him:(

Soon enough the clock strikes 12, a knock echoes through your apartment.

sabre is here and he’s gonna think you’re an idiot!

This is a great start, perfect.

Before you can unlock the door he’s letting himself in, “love you gotta keep the spare in a better place, ya lucky it’s just me.” Soon enough his shoulders are brushing past yours, heading to the kitchen.

“I picked up some food for us lovie, didn’t want ya cooking for me ‘nd hosting,” everything he does is so natural, it’s like he’s been here before and he’s not said anything about the electric situation, maybe because it’s daylight so he’s not noticed? Maybe it’s because the windows let enough light in? But you haven’t messaged him, he’s probably thinking you’re rude and now you’re being completely silent.

"im really sorry for not texting or anything, my electric isnt on and my phone is dead." you blurt out fast, your chest tightens a little, scared of his judgement, first you cant pay for coffee and now you asked him to come over and it looks like you didn't pay your electric:(

"its alright lovie, just gotta light some candles, it'll add to the mood 'nd add to the mood." he coaxes a nod out of you and you're meet with a smile. "good, now lovie I got a portable charger in the car, can get it for ya? dont want you ignoring me too much alright? and you dish out the food for us, yeah?"

"yes please, that'll be great." you soon return his smile, looking up at him! its perfect, he loves a damsel, especially one in distress(ignoring the fact he and his bros are the reason for it but thats none of your business)

Kyle searches through his car and puts his phone on mute, and changes Simon's name on his phone, doesnt want you to see Johnny simon, and price on his phone and put one and one together. the thought of johnny's tech fumble still gives him a giggle. that man hides his intelligence so, so well.

soon enough hes back upstairs, placing the charging brick on a side table before wrapping his arms around you, bringing into his chest and snapping a picture, "it'll be good for a scrapbook love, 'nd I wanna show off my pretty girl to my friends." he informs you and usually you'd protest but sabre was a breathe of fresh air, he was everything you wanted in simon and you didnt have to beg for it.

soon enough tea light candles are scattered across the table, charting out the new constellations that'll shine over you sabre, no, no, no.

You're getting ahead of yourself, you've known sabre for like 30 minutes? can't plan your wedding right now, when he goes home though? free range!!!

"so um, I thought we could like do a little painting dating, I grabbed a couple of canvases and stuff."

"great! I see this stuff all over 'nd I never 'ad anyone to do it with." sabre responds eagerly, he settles into his seat

"what are ya gonna paint?"

"not sure yet" you stare at the colours and suddenly you've never seen anything before.

"have ya seen the hand one? like we both have a colour and than I press my hand on the canvas 'nd than you do it over mine" he suggests.

do you just wanna compare hand size? you tilt your head to the side.

"yeah, but this way ill have a painting for when ya busy, unless youre willing to give me a hand, love?" he nods, admitting it with a laugh, you notices theres a hint of embarrassment, "'m a clingy bugger love, hope that's alright."

you nod at his words, "me too" you say simply and sabre starts picking out colours.

"you wanna be purple love, 'nd I can be green?" you nod and sabre is soon tugging up his sleeve and passing over his hand for you to paint.

you hold his hand so gently, he can't remember the last time he was held so delicately. the mix of the sensation of bristles and cold paint sends a shiver down his spine but you hold him steady and the scent he had smelt on simon and lingered in his flat it's suddenly flooded him, moorish caramel and rich vanilla, he wants to take a bite out of you.

his hand is soon covered in the pistachio green paint and moving to press down on the canvas.

now its your turn, but sabre is already tugging your sleeve up and a gently but firm hand brushes a layer of lavender over your own hand, you and sabre chat about everything and anything, his thumb gently rubs up and down.

soon enough the painting is done and sabre's got his phone out and taking pictures of you and the creation, saying he'll post it. little do you know he's sending it to simon who's spiralling because what the fuck? you always sent those sappy videos to him and now youre doing them, with Kyle:( not him. sickening. blood rises and he wants to grab Kyle out of your flat and take back his place.

sharing has never been Simons strong point.

taglist: @skeletonsucker @supernova2205 @wh0re4-alexademi @grr457 @gh0st-spid3r @sweetlittleblackrose @aceywaycy @mooievis @theadultoedge @cheese-pull @imtherain@h0e-02 @misscaller06 @lucilleifer @cherryflavoredguts @junitries @aneternallyexhaustedpigeon @drewsphswife @just-lilita @bvrnxy @crempuffie @erintaro @skyfire93 @my-little-evil-blog @alexalix-z@littlemiss-it-girl

[sunsetcupid]

GREEN WITH ENVY ; F1 GRID.

synopsis: When you find out that your celebrity crush is coming to the paddock, it is only natural that your boyfriend reacts a certain way, be it possessive or ostentatiously charming.

trigger warnings: Use of feminine pronouns from the reader’s perspective; Descriptions of romantic acts and behaviors; Suggestive remarks; Mentions of abandonment

a message from the author: I think that the drivers would be so funny in this situation! (Note: I added Daniel Ricciardo, though he technically isn’t a driver anymore. *Sobs loudly*) More “what-if” situations coming soon!

ISACK HADJAR

He doesn’t act insecure. In fact, he acts more confident than usual. Puffing up his chest, pulling you closer to him, definitely using more physical touch and a lot of pet names.

You can see how his demeanor changes as soon as your celebrity crush pays attention to you. He’s not outwardly possessive; he knows that even as your boyfriend, he doesn’t own you, but he still doesn’t like the “greedy way” the celebrity is eyeing you.

He over analyzes everything – from the greeting you give them to how you squeal when they say that they’re a big fan of yours. 

You have to comfort him later that night, running your fingers through his curls in the idle manner he absolutely adores. “Nobody is as amazing or perfect as you. Not even Timothee Chalamet.”

OSCAR PIASTRI

He hates being called icy, but that’s exactly how he acts when he finds out the news. Yeah, so what if your number-one celebrity crush is visiting the paddock? You’re his girlfriend, and no hot shot from Hollywood could ever take you away from him. 

Yet the doubt still worms its way in. Especially when he sees just how flustered you become, cheeks burning and words a quick stammer, and he has the sudden urge to have a passionate make out session with you in front of them. Modesty? Gone.

He makes you wear his jersey – a papaya-colored one with his last name inked on in bright black letters. Just so they’re aware.

LANCE STROLL

He’s not worried at all. Instead, he’s the epitome of a “cool guy”. You’re surprised he’s not behaving weirdly, but you’re too embarrassed to ask. Later, you cave, and he says, “They’re meaningless to me. We’ve been dating for years now; you would have left already if you wanted to.”

Despite this, however, he still leans in close to you, blocking the celebrity off from getting too close. You love it. Lance is not a particularly controlling guy, but those little movements? Chef’s kiss.

Afterwards, Lance orders a big bouquet of flowers and surprises you with a new stack of books that had been on your wishlist. “Do you think that they know you as well as I do? That they love you as much as I do?”

LANDO NORRIS

“I’m going to tattoo ‘Lando Norris’s girlfriend’ on your head while you’re sleeping.” Lando warns you the night before the celebrity is due to arrive. You know he’s joking, but you can barely sleep – from both the threat and the excitement. 

He turns into the most boastful, overly friendly person known to mankind. Loud laughter, rapid-fire jokes, anything to distract the celebrity from you. He even slaps the celebrity on the back, so forcefully they start coughing. (You almost started crying from laughing so hard.)

Adding onto this, he gets super competitive. He starts comparing accomplishments (“Was he in the running for the 2024 Driver’s Championship? I didn’t think so.”) to even the height difference (“I’m like ten centimeters taller than him! Do you want to date a garden gnome?”). It’s hilarious.

CHARLES LECLERC

He becomes quieter, more subdued. Rather than being bolder and more outgoing, he lets you spend time with the celebrity – though he’s fully aware of how long you’ve been crushing over them. 

While you’re chatting it up, you can hear him muttering in French. Not even curse words, just sentences like, “Who does he think he is? He’s like a peacock, trying so obviously to flirt with her. She’s mine.”

You buy matching outfits to wear to quell his nerves, albeit Charles not vocalizing any of his fears – that you might decide he wasn’t good enough for you and run away forever. (A foolish delusion, because no one was better than Charles Leclerc.)

DANIEL RICCIARDO

When he finds out, he immediately throws on a dramatic act. “I’m going to be abandoned! You’ll be disgusted with me as soon as you lay eyes on them, and you’ll leave me forever!” The only way to get him to be quiet was to kiss him, and that turned into something a lot more steamy…(Not that you’re complaining!)

Before the celebrity arrives, he starts drilling you. “So, you like him because of their chiseled abs? Their humor? Their accent? I have to be prepared, baby. I don’t want them whisking you away.” You roll your eyes, but secretly, you’re in heaven. It’s so hard to make Daniel jealous, but this is the perfect way to do it. Or so you thought…

…Because the celebrity becomes quick friends with Daniel. Of course he does; Daniel’s personality is magnetic and full of charm. Later, Daniel kisses you on the forehead right as you’re snuggling into bed, and says, “You have an amazing taste in men, baby. He’s awesome.”

Credits: Dividers — @sisterlucifergraphics

[widows-venom]

⊹₊⟡⋆ IT DOES MATTER

PART 1

dark!wanda maximoff x fem!reader

✮⋆˙summary

you wake up again, chained to your own bed. you are determined to figure out why this wasn’t your wanda. and wanda was determined to follow through with some plan of hers.

✮⋆˙trigger warnings

dark!wanda, smut, dubcon/noncon, oral (r receiving), strap on usage (r receiving), face slapping (r receiving), mention of possible character death (idrk)

✮⋆˙authors note

please excuse the somewhat bad grammar and switching tenses, i’m not a native speaker anddd yeah, no beta, we die like — our souls when we watch marvel

you‘re thankful that there’s no headache when you wake up, but that gratitude quickly vanished, making place for fear. where were you? and who the fuck is that wanda?

you start to look around and notice that you’re settled in the midst of a queen sized bed — like the one wanda used to sleep in. but she’d never bind you to it’s posts like this — wait, no she would have but not this tightly. and not with her magic, but her silk robes.

where the fuck are you even? you simultaneously think the bedroom is familiar and completely new to you. it faintly reminds you off wanda’s bedroom but then again, it feels completely off.

the energy of the room doesn’t carry its usual friendliness and warmth, the carefreeness and calmness, the comfort wanda’s room always used to bring to you.

it’s all gone, replaced by an eerie, suffocating energy. it feels as though someone had draped a blanket of darkness and cruelty over the once comforting area.

“don’t think so much, malysh, you know i like you pliant and quiet”, wanda’s voice rings out.

her voice is raspy, her sokovian accent more prominent than ever — more prominent than that of your wanda.

“there is no 'your' wanda”, wanda hisses and within the blink of an eye she’s on you, pressing you down on the mattress with the of her body.

her breath is cold and harsh against your cheek, her weight uncomfortable and constricting above you.

with your wanda it had always felt -

“don’t you dare continue to compare me with her!”, wanda screams and before you can even blink, her palm connects with your cheek.

as a startled scream leaves your lips, wanda harshly grabs your chin. her weird, callused black finger tips dig uncomfortably into your skin and you can practically feel the magic in them.

“you’re mine now”, wanda coldly states and brings your face closer to hers. her lips almost brush against yours. “there’s no need to think of that wretched, weak wanda you know”

wretched? weak?

as if you’re going to let someone — frankly, this was the exactly someone, but some other version of wanda — walk all over your wanda.

“what did you do to her?”, you spit out.

wanda huffed and rolled her eyes, grinding her teeth together. “that’s none of your business, malysh. i discarded her, like the useless little witch she was”, she snarked, an almost proud smile forming on her lips. “she couldn’t protect you, malysh, but i can.”

you scoffed, your throat closing up. discarded her? had she actually killed your wanda?

before you can even ask, wanda’s lips are on yours. harsh, unforgiving and — with a hint of love.

you tried to struggle against it, against her, her kiss. your lips not answering hers, merely letting her do as she pleased. but then, wanda pulls back. and there it was.

those hurt, green puppy eyes, staring at you accusingly. “kiss me back”, was it a demand? a plea, even? you didn’t know, but your heart stung.

how could you ever deny wanda? even if it wasn’t technically your wanda, those eyes hurt.

“please”, she whispers, her hands moving to your neck, gently touching your collarbones, tracing them.

now were you dumb, or just hopelessly in love with every variant of your girlfriend?

probably both.

because you lean up and kiss her, desperate to make those sad puppy eyes go away.

you kiss her, like you would have kissed her. slow, gentle and loving — and wanda lets you. lets you set the pace, doesn’t kiss your as harsh as before, but rather as soft as you are. as she would have.

you taste tears. maybe yours, maybe hers.

“let me make you feel good, malysh, please”, wanda whispered against your lips, gently connecting your foreheads.

did you have a choice? probably not.

“be gentle”, you rasped out, and wanda kissed your lips again, letting them linger.

with the twist of her wrist, she’s as naked as you are. a thick, veiny red strap-on settled between her legs. the sight alone making you clench your thighs together. you faintly recognise the toy, your own wanda had used it on you every now and then, but it looks — different. almost attached to wanda.

wanda smirked down at you, a devilish glint in her eyes, as she runs her hands down your thighs, gently spreading them apart.

“you’re so smart, malysh”, she praised gently and kissed your neck. “it’s different, attached to me. i can feel you”, she murmurs, her kisses traveling lower.

her gentleness makes you melt, a shuddering sigh leaving your lips.

“feel me?”, you whisper. “it’s - what, a magic cock?”, you laugh a little breathless at your own words.

wanda’s grin shuts you up. oh. it was a magic cock.

“just for you, malysh. as special as you are”, she murmurs, nipping at the underside of one of your breasts, as her hands on your thighs slide higher, massaging you gently.

“now relax, let me take care of you”, she coaxes, placing a kiss on your stomach, your hip.

“fuck”, you whispered, head falling back against the pillows. your fingers twitch, unable to move much do to the magical restraints.

“fuck indeed”, wanda mused, before nipping just above your shockingly dripping core. she moans at the sight of you, so wet and ready already.

“my, my, malysh”, she teases, green eyes flickering ip to yours as she darts her tongue out, flicking against your clit. a squeaky moan escapes you. “so nice and ready for me”

her tongue dips lower, spreading through your folds, humming at your taste. she manages to keep eye contact with you, while she pushes her tongue inside.

“god, fuck, wanda-“, you whimper out, hips bucking up, only to immediately be stopped by wanda’s hands pressing you down.

“don’t move, malysh, let me have you”, she whispers against your dripping core, the puff of air making you whine helplessly.

wanda’s tongue spreads your folds again, her nose brushing against your clit as she oh-so-gently eats you out. the occasional hum or moan of approval making you shudder from the vibration against your core.

fuck she was good. just like you had remembered your wanda being like.

wanda doesn’t speed up, her tongue keeping you in a nice, pleasurable state, while one of her fingers circles your entrance, slowly pushing in. “oh malysh, you take me so well, so good”, she murmurs.

you’re core greedily clenches around her. your breath comes in fast, needy little puffs and you try to move your hands again, struggling a little against the restraints — no use.

“wanda please”, you find yourself begging quickly. desperate for her, for her cock. the thought of her actually being able to feel you, is making you dizzy with need.

“sh, i got you, malysh, i got you”, wanda mumbles. she detaches her mouth from you, leaving you aching for more. your hips buck against her hands, but she pins you down mercilessly.

wanda moves her body over yours, looking at your scrunched up face with adoration as she lines herself up. “so pretty”, she mumbles, her eyes wandering down to your core as she shifts her hips, brushing the tip of her magical strap on against your clit. watching the red tip brush against you, watching you twitvh and whine.

“wanda!”, you cry out already, her hands immediately tighten on your hips, holding you down, preventing you from even starting to buck up into her.

“there you go”, she moans, pushing the strap on inside, steadily, slowly. brows creasing in pleasure, as she feels your velvety walls fluttering against the magical cock.

“so good for me, malysh, so good”, she whispers, a little breathless, but not coming close to your breathless gasps.

“so nice and pliant for me”, she experimentally rolls her hips, makinng the both of you moan out in unison.

“fuck wanda, please move, please”, you whimper, eyes fluttering close in pleasure.

rough, callused fingers trace your cheeks, reminding you once again that this wasn’t your wanda. but in this moment, you weren’t sure you cared.

“say you’re mine”, wanda rasps, pulling her hips back almost fully, leaving just the tip inside you. “say you belong to me, malysh”

her hands tightened on your face, squeezing your cheeks a little.

“i- shit, wanda i’m yours”, maybe you weren’t stupid, but just a needy slut:

wanda grins and slams her hips forward, moaning loud, as you cry out in pleasure.

“there you go, malysh, my pretty girl”, she moans, setting a steady, quick pace.

“fuck you take me so well, feel so good around me”, she praises, leaning down to kiss and nip at your neck as you struggle not to writhe too much under her.

“you were made for this, for me, my cock, baby”, wanda moans into the side of your neck, biting your skin and soothing it with a kiss.

“you’re mine, malysh, utterly mine”, she mumbles. “mine to take and use as i please”

she shifts a little, coming face to face with you. admiring your face, brows scrunched, lips parted and eyes shut in pleasure, for a few heartbeats.

“if you’re good, i might consider sharing you with your little weak witch”

[hanahaki270]

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ “You Belong to Me” ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

・❥・ Synopsis ・❥・ Having an Uchiha as an ex doesn’t mean anything. Once you’ve managed to make them fall for you, you’re basically stuck with them for eternity.

・❥・ Pairing ・❥・ Sasuke x Fem!reader

・❥・ A/N ・❥・ I finally decided to continue watching shippuden after having it on pause for 5 years.. yeahhh so I’m having a huge obsession with it rn. Also please feel free to send prompt requests for me to write! And I feel like I definitely could have written this out better but I was in a rush and stressed out about Job interviews so mb

♥︎

You finally gathered the courage within you to end your relationship with Sasuke. This wasn’t an easy decision. In fact it was tearing you apart. You still loved him. But the differences between your priorities and his were far too different to the point where they were conflicting with each other.

You might as well have been talking to a wall that day with how blank his expression was after you just announced how you were breaking up with him. The loud silence was killing you inside, does he not care at all?

♥︎

-You wanting to break up with him was like a jab at his ego. The Sasuke Uchiha. The last prodigy of his clan and you wanted to leave him? Though this enraged him, he refused to let you know it. He couldn’t let you have the satisfaction of knowing that this actually affected him.

-After you left the apartment he started to completely trash the place. Everything in it was obliterated into nothingness. But as soon as he went out in public he acted completely fine as if nothing happened.

-Anytime you were around he would make sure you saw him with other girls. He wanted to show you that he could be with anybody he desired without a problem, at any given second. Show you that you weren’t nothing special to him.

-He was lying. Because as soon as you left his vision he treated the girls like shit and pushed them aside after they served their purpose in making you jealous.

-He tried to sleep with random women in the village to further prove that he didn’t need you. (He was really just trying to convince himself) but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. None of them even compared to your beauty. Even the thought of another person lying on the bed you two once shared disgusted him.

-After weeks of this even Sasuke couldn’t believe his own facade. He craved you. He craved your smile, your laughter, Your touch. And is willing to do whatever it takes to remind you that you belong with him.

-He sucked up his pride and begged Naruto to send you two on missions together. So you’d be basically forced to talk to each other . (Naruto uses this against him every now and then)

-During one of the missions, one of your comrades decide to get a little touchy with you. You pay this no mind since you have no interest in the guy, but Sasuke definitely notices it. What’s a worthless ninja doing talking to what’s his?

-A couple of days after that mission, the scenario of another man getting that close to you haunted Sasuke day and night. There’s no way in hell you’d ever willingly decide to be with any other man but him. Right? He needed the reassurance and he needed it now.

-It was 4 am when you opened the door to your apartment after you were awoken by loud desperate banging on the door just to be faced with your ex. He invited himself in, closing the door behind him as he slowly crept towards you.

“Sasuke?”

-He reached for your hand and held it in his, as he focused on you as if there was nothing else in this world. You could tell he developed dark circles since the last time you saw him.

“The day we got together was the day I chose you to be the one I repopulate my clan with. The only one worthy of the surname Uchiha. You’re mine and I’m yours.”

-He noticed how you were at a loss of words so he took this moment to do what he’s been yearning to. He grabbed the back of your head pulling you into a kiss. The kiss was messy and desperate. He kissed you as if you were the oxygen he needed to breathe. And to him, you were.

-Needless to say you were vulnerable to his request and took him back. How could you not?

♥︎