‼️🚨Urgent Appeal, Very IMPORTANT 🚨‼️

🌟 A Plea from Gaza: Rola’s Story 🌟

Hello, my name is Rola, and I am a mother of two children living in the Gaza Strip. Our lives were once filled with love, laughter, and dreams for the future. But everything changed on October 7th, when the war shattered not only our home but our entire world.

That morning, my family and I were enjoying coffee together on the balcony. Out of nowhere, an explosion erupted, shaking our home violently. My husband and son ran for cover, falling over each other in panic, while I stood frozen, still holding my cup, unable to process the chaos around me. When I looked out the window, I saw that our neighbor’s house, once filled with life, had been reduced to rubble. Ambulances rushed to the scene as people scrambled to rescue the injured and pull bodies from the debris.

The bombings didn’t stop. At night, the rain poured heavily, and the cold seeped into our bones. I stayed awake, covering my children to keep them warm and praying for their safety. But safety is an illusion here. Another explosion shattered the night, and our neighbors’ home was destroyed. Their children, who had been sleeping peacefully under a blanket, were found lifeless, their cover soaked in blood.

I looked at my children with tears in my eyes and thought, How can I protect you? We had to flee our home with nothing but the clothes on our backs. We left behind my children’s toys, their clothes, and their beautiful bedroom. Everything we had worked so hard to build is gone.

Our Current Reality Now, we are displaced and living in a nightmare. Food is scarce, and prices are unimaginably high—$10 for a kilo of sugar! The fear of death hangs over us constantly. My children deserve a life of joy and hope, not one defined by fear and loss. Why can’t we live like everyone else—go to work, visit family, and watch our children play in safety? Why do our children have to grow up surrounded by death and destruction?

How You Can Help I am pleading for your kindness to help us rebuild our lives. We need your support to: 💔 Rebuild our home, so my children can feel safe again. 🌍 Evacuate from Gaza, seeking a future where my family can live with dignity. 🩺 Provide urgent medical care for my children, who need protection from this nightmare.

Even the smallest donation can make a difference. If you can’t donate, please share my story. Every share brings us closer to hope.

What Your Support Means Your kindness is not just about helping us survive; it’s about giving us a chance to dream again. To rebuild what we’ve lost and to ensure my children have a future filled with possibilities, not fear.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Your support means the world to us. Let’s work together to rebuild hope, one step at a time.

🌸 Please share our story and consider donating today. 🌸

gofundme.com

Donate to From Despair to Hope: Help us to rebuild our life., organized by Fatima Rajwani

Hi I am Fatima and live in London UK. I have known Rola now for appr… Fatima Rajwani needs your support for From Despair to Hope: Help us to

LEWIS WINS THE 2024 BRITISH GRAND PRIX

hi...how are you all doing?

honestly, it has been a few pretty shit months for me, i had a lot of personal problems that are now finally being handled properly. im sorry for disappearing and for not posting. i will try to start soon to post something, even if its an headcanon or something like that ahahah.

still, thank you so much for the support you guys keep giving me by liking and followings me, even if i didnt post for like 5 months, it means a lot <3.

also, please remember to take a step back from what youre doing if you're dealing with things and feel like its too much. take some time for yourself and use it to get better <3

also check up on your friends sometimes, make sure they are all ok, especially if they seems a bit off.

love you all <3

Hello, wonderful souls! 🤍🌍

I hope you're doing well. 🌿

Could you help me amplify my family's story and bring awareness to our struggle? 🙏🏻

💬 Please reblog my pinned post or consider donating just $5—your support could truly make a difference in saving lives amidst war and hardship.

Your kindness and voice matter more than you know. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍🌿

🕊️ @mosabsdr | Every share counts. 💫

.

hii! i just posted a george x male!reader nsfw!!

Hello, wonderful souls! 🤍🌍

I hope you're doing well. 🌿

Could you help me amplify my family's story and bring awareness to our struggle? 🙏🏻

💬 Please reblog my pinned post or consider donating just $5—your support could truly make a difference in saving lives amidst war and hardship.

Your kindness and voice matter more than you know. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍🌿

🕊️ @mosabsdr | Every share counts. 💫

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smells like team spirit part1

Pairing; Jock!Roommate!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem reader

Summary; Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley. Rich. Handsome. Star lacrosse player for his university. Pretending you, his roommate, is his girlfriend so his teammates stop taking the piss out of him for never being in a relationship-wait what?

Warnings; 18+, everything on my blog is 18+, however this chapter only has some strong language and some slightly inappropriate thoughts!

(a/n) y'all!!! v v proud of this, i know quite a few of you have already read this on ao3 but since i have set plan for it/the number of chapters, i'll be posting here as well!!!

Word count; 3.8k

Ah, university. 

The time to explore your twenties, to meet likeminded people, drink until your body can’t take it, experiment with drugs, lie to your parents about how many lectures you attend and generally have the time of your life. 

The dorm halls were packed with students forgetting about their luggage so they could go out as soon as possible, guys already reeking of cheap alcohol and Simon battled his past his fair share of drunken crying students outside pubs on his way to his apartment building. So yes, uni is the time where you’re supposed to live it up and experiment, to have a raucous time and pretty much go wild, a mantra that runs through Simon’s head as he stands in his silent apartment, miles away from the nearest student accommodation. 

It’s…peaceful, he supposes. 

He won’t have to worry about the nightmare roommates he always hears about, about people he doesn’t know stealing his food or annoying the landlord, shagging so loud they keep him awake or not respecting his privacy. He’ll be peaceful, yeah, it’ll be nice.

It’s nice for about three hours.

Simon unpacks his suitcases, puts his things haphazardly into the cupboards and his closet, browses the streaming services and has a shower. And then he sits on the sofa and stares at the wall.

He’d opened a window earlier and voices float up to it, on whichever stupidly high floor his dad chose this apartment on. They sound quite drunk like most other people he’s seen tonight, about a week into the beginning of the term and everywhere brimming with freshers. He keeps forgetting he’s a fresher, to be honest. Being a few years older seems to have that effect, he doesn’t feel like the baby faced eighteen year olds that can finally drink legally and feel the need to get blackout drunk at every opportunity. He’s been there, done that and had the embarrassing hungover regretful mornings to prove it. 

Getting into lacrosse helped, gave him a reason to stop drinking into oblivion, to get up earlier in the mornings and actually take care of his body-and it got him where he is now, into uni, so that’s a plus. 

He looks out of the window and down at the bumbling group of freshers walking past his building, one on the verge of falling into the road. One of them screams happily and he winces, closing the window and turning back to his empty apartment. 

Peaceful yes, but, well, too peaceful.

It’s depressingly silent, empty and lonely. Not really what he wants his new life at uni to be like. 

It’s too sleek and shiny as well, modern all black and white and grey everywhere. The sofa isn’t comfortable it’s stiff and too low, the coffee table is glass and already smudged from the one thing he put down earlier, the appliances in the kitchen are all silver and black, the counters white and the floors so shiny they’re slippery. It’s so…desolate. Devoid of any personality and character, more like a showroom than somewhere he’s actually meant to live.

Simon sinks back onto the couch and listens vaguely to doors slamming in his building. He can hear the muffled sounds of friends and partners walking up the stairs outside his door and stares at the wall again. Eventually the stairwell and hallways fall silent and he’s still sat there, also in silence. 

He takes a long look at the closed door of the second bedroom that he hasn’t touched, huffs, and gets up to grab some paper.

-

We sincerely apologise for the delay in your admission paperwork, do let us know if we can assist you in any way from this point forward. Below is a list of the accommodation options our students can choose from, we hope you find something suitable-

A list is all well and good if any of those accommodation options actually have any damn room. Which they do not.

It’s lovely getting into your first choice uni, an absolute dream that many people do not achieve-and on a scholarship as well, but it certainly becomes less of a dream when you’re not told they have admitted you for two months after they should have so you have to find accommodation. And now you have to make the commute to uni almost every day because there’s nowhere to live, unsurprisingly.

It’s been a bit of whirlwind for you, from dealing with an apparent rejection from your top choice, to accepting you’ll be going to your second choice, to the struggle for finding accommodation, to suddenly finding out that you have actually been admitted to your top choice, making the whiplash choice to attend even though you don’t have accommodation and then fully realising the weight of what that means after you did your commute the first time. 

It’s been about a week, and it has not gotten better. Worse, actually, if you think about the old guy who flashed you on the train yesterday morning. 

You remind yourself that it’s worth it though, as you walk into the university building, work clutched under your arm and hopes high. You got a scholarship after all, you can do this. 

You’re good enough to be here, to deserve a place here-so you most certainly aren’t going to waste it. Now to just remind yourself of that when you get back home and it’s already dark.

The hours between your lectures aren’t too much fun either, when you just have to hang around campus because you don’t have anywhere to go apart from the communal spaces that are already teeming with students and annoyingly loud groups of technically teenagers who forget these spaces are actually for doing work. 

It only took your second day of sitting in this bustling space while you tried to focus on your work to realise that maybe a job might help, so each day your first action has been to check the noticeboard for any postings. 

And there’s been fuckall. 

Well, that’s not quite true-there was a listing for a barista in a local coffee shop just around the corner, but when you went in to ask some more about it the manager had told you the pay rate (less than the legal minimum wage), the hours (more than your uni classes and workload put together) and then a fight had broken out between two employees behind the counter. 

You’d declined the ‘informal chat’ he had offered to see if you might be a good fit. 

Today there’s a few new flyers, one for a local church group, one for a non profit volunteer group cleaning the streets and one for a political candidate for something or other. That one is…decorated, let’s say, quite heavily. 

In the corner of the board there’s a small new one as well, less a flyer and more a ripped piece of tatty paper, ink smudged a little and pinned haphazardly to the cork. 

In need of a roommate, bedroom 22 square meters plus en suite, full access to living room and kitchen, both rooms only shared with one other person-rent negotiable, text if you’re interested:

The number underneath makes you pause, wondering how many dick pics they’ve gotten. 

Putting your number out there, no indication of your gender or anything? Surefire way to get something dodgy.

As you stare at the advert, you can’t deny it looks a little dodgy itself. No personal details, not even phrased in a particularly polite or friendly way, and it seems, unfortunately, far too good to be true. 

Twenty two square meters plus an en suite. That’s far better than anything you looked at months ago when you first applied to uni if you’re being honest, and only having one roommate seems like heaven on earth.

But it’s dodgy. Too dodgy. Right?

You shouldn’t. Definitely not. It could be some sort of creep waiting to lure you into a basement. It could be a psycho or just the worst roommate on the planet. 

But.

Twenty two entire square meters. Ensuite. Living room and kitchen with only one other person. Rent negotiable. 

Craning your neck to see the place you were planning to sit, you sigh as your bag gets moved clumsily from the table to a chair vaguely near it so a group of seven can cram onto it. 

Turning back to the scruffy bit of paper, you pull out your phone. Nothing to lose, really.

-

Hey, I saw your ad for an available bedroom, rent negotiable? I’d love to chat about it or take a look if it’s still going, please let me know if it is or not! Thank you :)

Well, that’s a nice change from the two dick pics he woke up to this morning. 

One was actually someone holding a beer bottle next to their dick, and he knows that brand. It’s a little impressive to be honest, those bottles aren’t small. 

He’d blocked them though, and pretty quickly given up hope that his little advert would attract the right kind of attention, so this is a nice surprise. He really doesn’t even need this to be honest, that’s why he said the rent was negotiable. Money isn’t the issue, but he doesn’t think he can deal with the eery emptiness and coldness of this apartment.

Another look around the echoey, impractical place is enough for him to open the text and start typing, inviting you to come over this afternoon and have a look and sending you the address.

-

It’s only a few minutes before the time he gave you when he realises it might not have been his wisest idea, inviting a complete stranger over to his place with no one else present. Not his best decision to be honest, but you’ll be here in a second so he doesn’t have long to think about it.

There’s a knock on his door just as he debates this, so not even as long as he thinks apparently.

Slightly more nervous than he was last night when he put the advert up and when he texted you, Simon wrings his hands as he gets up to open the door. He peers through the peephole just before he turns the handle, jolting in surprise for a second at you. 

You’re not quite what he thought-more, well, female, to be honest. He doesn’t exactly know why but he wasn’t expecting a woman really, he supposes as he moves to open the door that he kind of just thought guys were more likely to have forgotten about or been lazy with their accommodation. Time to unpack that little bit of minor sexism later on probably.

You smile politely when he opens the door, and his eyes are too busy trailing over you to notice the way you glance at his broad frame before looking back at his face. 

When he looks back up to your face, he can see the curiosity in your eyes as you take in the scar. It’s something he tries not to think about, the long pinkish jagged line that stretches over one side of his face. It cuts through his eyebrow and over his cheek, leaving a dent in his upper lip where it ends. Your gaze only lingers for a split second before flicking back up to his eyes though, and he tries to put it out of his mind. 

“Uh-hi-is this-this is the apartment with the ad right? I’m at the right place?” His eyes snap back to yours after drifting down a little and your voice is sweet and polite, wavering a little as you glance behind him into the apartment a little. 

He stumbles back a step or two, widening the door and waving you over the threshold, noting the way you also wring your hands nervously. Maybe not the only one anxious about being here alone. A wave of your perfume floats up to him as you walk past and he stares at the wall blankly, mind going quiet for a couple of seconds at how enticing the scent is. It’s not incredibly strong, not very artificial either-more like your perfume has worn off during the day and now a few notes of it are mingling with your natural scent. It’s delicious, subtle and soft and enticing and his head turns to catch more of it and-no, no, he can’t be thinking like that when you’ve only just walked into the apartment. 

Get a grip-

“Yes yeah this is the place-” Simon talks as he shuts the door and leads you further down the hall, indicating the kitchen on his left and living room in front. “You’re the first person who’s shown any serious interest so it’s still available, this is the kitchen and I mean, pretty standard-it’s got all the appliances you’d need I think. Coffee machine in the corner there, microwave is above the toaster, the hob has four rings so if you’re one of those people we can have two rings each or whatever,” he says as he waves his hand generically at the room. 

A quick glance at you shows him your wide eyed expression, hands in your pockets and staring at him. 

He coughs awkwardly.

“That’s-I mean that’s if you were to take the room and..move in, yknow, if you wanted to after I show you everything-everywhere-you don’t have to of course, but-yeah just-if you…wanted to…” Simon trails off lamely, cheeks beginning to flush a little as you furrow your brows at his anxious tirade. One person interested in this room and he’s about to scare them off. Great.

He stares at you for a second, seeing if you’ll respond, but when you don’t he turns and walks to the living room, pressing his lips together and cursing himself. 

“This is the living room-obviously-if you were to take the room you could decorate and do whatever, I have no preferences. If you wanted to do anything huge or add something big or weird or whatever then ask me about it obviously, but I don’t know like if you wanted to put books on the shelves or vases or anything-” 

“It is a little…bland, I have to admit. Very monochrome,” you say, almost nervously, and he looks back at you in surprise at your voice. The second thing you say and you’re agreeing with him about how shitty the room is? Brilliant. 

It seems the happy surprise on his face doesn’t translate properly and your eyes get even wider, hands coming up placatingly as you ramble on, “Not-not that monochrome is bad it can be nice-it IS nice I just-what I meant was I tend to have quite colourful stuff I decorate my walls a lot and-it’s nice the room is good! I only-”

“The room is shit.” Simon says, interrupting you flatly and enjoying the small smile that overtakes your features instead of the panic that was there before. 

“It’s not the greatest thing I’ve ever seen, I’ll admit. Sorry to trash your apartment it is lovely it’s just-well, yeah it’s like entirely black and white.”

He turns to look at the room, trying to spot any kind of colour. He doesn’t. 

Lips curving up, he looks back at you, already feeling warm at the small glimmer of friendship sparking at the expense of his shitty apartment. A rich persons shitty, the kind of shitty only money can buy because it was top of the range and they thought it meant good.

“You can decorate however you want, don’t worry-if you wanted to add some, or a fuckton of colour I would be pretty happy about it. Like I said if you were gonna do something crazy like a-a mural of dicks on the wall or-”

“A mural of dicks?!?” Your voice is incredulous, hands frozen in midair where you pulled them from your pockets. 

“Yes don’t do that,” Simon pushes down the little bubble of pride that wells up in him at your laugh, “-but like you can paint or put posters up or replace this fucking uncomfortable sofa or whatever if you decide to stay-”

You chuckle again at him and he fights the response his body seems to be having to it, turning to lead you to the bedroom you’ll be-MIGHT be staying in. 

“And this would be your room. As I said on the ad, about 22 square meters, en suite through the door over there, obviously you can see you’ve got a bed, mattress, wardrobe and bedside table but you can get rid of or bring whatever you like. You’re welcome to put up shelves and stuff if you want as well, probably run it by me just in case but I’m sure it’ll all be fine.” 

He looks around the room as he speaks, and is surprised to see your eyes are on him when he turns around. You look slightly confused, like you’re trying to work something out.

“Do you like…own this place, or something?” 

His polite smile falters a little at your question, mind flipping through the memories of how he got this apartment.

“I-sort of, my dad does really, but I-he doesn’t care about what I do with it much so yeah you can do what you want really, put up whatever-” Simon waves his hand vaguely at the room again, unsure what to say next and mostly just hoping you get the hint. 

An expression crosses your face that he can’t quite decipher, but you quickly cover it up and walk into the room, looking around at the space.

He watches you carefully, trying to figure out if he could live with you all year. Maybe you would steal his food, maybe you would bring guys and girls back and bang so loud he doesn’t sleep all night. Maybe you'll walk around nude all the time and tell him you’re just a free spirit as he tries to keep his eyes above tit-level. 

That thought jolts him a little, and he realising his eyes have been slowly trailing down your body as you wander toward the en suite at the back of the room. Okay, maybe there would be different issues if you moved in. Could he live with you all year and see you in any skimpy pyjamas you might own, see you in a towel when you’re fresh out of the shower, have to sit there while you bring over partners you might have, see you in the mornings rubbing sleep from your eyes and looking like you just wandered out of bed? 

Simon clears his throat and averts his eyes, cursing the fact he’s never lived with a girl before. His lack of relationships has never been more apparent, he thinks bitterly. 

Belatedly he realises you’re talking to him from inside the bathroom and he takes a few steps into the room, coughing and asking you to repeat it.

“So-dare I ask what you meant by rent ‘negotiable’?” 

His heart picks up it’s pace for a second, body suddenly a little warm at the fact you sound like you might actually be properly interested, like you’re really debating it, like sooner rather than later he might actually be living with you.

He shrugs even though you can’t see him. “As I said this place is kind of my dad’s, so money isn’t a huge issue, but it’s, well, it’s too big for me.” Simon ducks his head and scratches the back of his neck as his cheeks start going pink, mind racing as he tries to figure out how to make that sound…not pathetic. “And-and I mean it seems a little selfish to keep it to myself when people are looking for accommodation right? So it’s-yeah it’s negotiable it’s not like I’d have to charge anything too steep there’s no point, if you want to take it I can figure it out and let you know?” 

His eyes dart to yours sheepishly, almost like he’s looking for confirmation that it’s the right answer to your question. 

The expression on your face is inscrutable, he can’t tell what you’re thinking and shifts to lean against the door frame restlessly. 

“Better figure it out soon then, if you’ll have me I’ll take it. How soon can I move in?” 

A grin breaks out across his face before he can tamper it down, body relaxing and a rush of breath escaping him in relief. 

-

You end up moving in over the next few days, with Simon peering out the window at a truck where a guy helps you move a few suitcase out of the back of it. Before he registers it he’s bounding down the stairs and trying not to trip over his own feet in his haste to get there, taking a gulping breath and watching your amused expression as he offers you help with your stuff. 

It’s nice, getting to know you a little bit. He helps bring your stuff up and then unpack a few things after asking if you need anything, and he learns about the mishap with your admission. A scholarship student, like him, you’ve brought more books for this term than he thinks he’ll read in the next two years, you took a couple of years out as well, and according to your schedules you’ll hardly run into each other anyway. 

In return he tells you about his lacrosse, that he spent the last few years training and bettering his skills at the sport, and he got in on a scholarship as well for it. He assures you there won’t be any sweaty sports kit lying around in the communal spaces or where it would disturb you, and he has to press his lips together when you laugh in response. 

He helps you shove your empty suitcases onto the top of your wardrobe, thanking god he’s taller than you and then trying to ignore how happy he is about it, before he pauses in your doorway to remind you that anything you need, any questions about the apartment or anything-he’s right next door.

Simon lays in bed that night as he listens to you rustling around next door, no doubt situating yourself and putting everything in its proper place. He’d opened one of your suitcases to help you unpack earlier and caught a glimpse of something lacy before you snagged the bag and shoved a different one his way, coughing awkwardly. He shouldn’t be thinking about that. He won’t. 

Turning over in bed, he banishes the thought from his mind, vowing to himself that he’s not going to be stupid and develop a crush on his new roommate. Instead, he’ll maybe just…become friends with you. That seems possible. He can totally do that, at the very least he’ll have someone else in the apartment and a bit of personality around so it’s not so dreary, and maybe you guys can hang out or just chat every once in a while.

Yes, that sounds ideal. Right? A simply friendship, easy. He can do it.

PART 2/MASTERLIST

comments and reblogs so so so so much appreciated!! likes don't share posts or boost them or anything, but comments and reblogs do!! if you don't then i hope you enjoyed reading anyway!! <3

YOU DISTRACT ME

nsfw!

george x male!reader ( was tempted to just write 'reader with a dick).

also! this was a request, hope you like it @simonverses

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI!

cw: porn lol, anal sex, blowjob, fingering, kind of dry humping, slightly dumbification, praise kink, overstimulation, edging, kind of switch!george, brat!george, brat tamer!reader, dom!reader, pet names, dirty talk .

GEORGE loved to stare at you. You were just pretty to look at. He felt like he was in a sort of trance every time he laid his eyes on your figure laying on his bed while playing on your phone.

You had no pants on, leaving you with your dark blue boxers and his white shirt on, and he couldn't help but stare. You were by no means distracted by his gaze, too occupied with your game to even notice the brown eyes of your boyfriend that were filled with lust.

George however, just watched as you huffed and grunted lowly whenever something happened, and before he knew it, his dick was hard and his screen flashed with the usual 'You died!'. Quickly, he logged off and got out of the chair, walking towards his bed and crawling on top of you, slowly massaging your shoulders and back.

You groaned, pleased with the feeling of George's hands massaging your body and turned off your phone, enjoying George's soft kisses that he started to shower your neck with.

"God you're so tense, all because of that stupid game." George mumbled and you chuckled, rolling your eyes. "Are you really saying this to me? You?" You teased and he shrugged his shoulders, a teasing grin on his face. "Maybe."

You huffed a laugh before groaning as his hands went further down your back and to your ass, slowly massaging each cheek, making you smirk lazily. "Oh, you're horny pretty boy?" You mumbled with your eyes closed. He chuckled, still squeezing your cheeks in his hands "Maybe," He said, biting your upper shoulder softly before he started to trail his mouth lower, kissing every inch of your skin.

You smiled, enjoying the attention until you felt your boxer slowly being pulled down. "Do you want to get punished so badly, pretty boy?" You said, swallowing dry as you felt George's fingers moving closer to your hole. "Shhh." He only whispered in your ear, but you weren't having it.

With a fast movement, you turned around, your hands going to George hips as if it was their designated place. You squeezed his hips as if it was your birth right to have such a pretty and good boyfriend straddling you, just waiting for one word from you to do something, anything.

You raised your eyebrows, looking at him with a small smirk as you slowly started to move his waist against yours, enjoying the feeling of his already hard dick against yours. He closed his eyes, moving his hands to take off his shirt before he looked back at you, placing his hands on your chest.

"Why are you so bold today, pretty? Mhm?" You whispered, raising one hand to grip the back of his neck and moving his face closer to yours. He rolled his eyes, but his pace increased as he grinded his hips against yours without stopping. "Why are you so curious baby? Can't I want to fuck my pretty boyfriend for once?" He mocked, raising an eyebrow at you and making you chuckle.

"God pretty, you don't even understand how much fun I'm gonna have with you if you don't stop being such a bratty baby." You teased, moving your hand around his neck and squeezing slightly. His breath inched, and you could already see his ears turning red from blushing.

"Aw are you blushing, pretty? Am I making you flustered?" You mumbled, using your other hand to squeeze his cock over his boxer, chuckling when you saw a small wet spot on them. "My baby is so horny he can't even control himself, right pretty? You're just so horny that you forgot that I don't like brats. " You said, almost in a patronising tone.

He squeezed his eyes shut, not making a sound as you slowly started to trail your hand up and down his covered dick, going to a place so slow that George considered impossible to reach. A whine left his mouth the moment you squeezed his head, from which he was sure was already leaking pre-cum.

"Look at you, I barely touched you and you're ready to come. You're so fucking needy, pretty." You said, watching with amusement when George whined again, his eyes glossed over with lust as they stared right into yours.

"Come on pretty, get on your knees so I can show you what happens when you want to be a brat." He merely nodded, slowly moving down until his mouth hovered your clothed dick. With a shaky hand, George pulled down your boxer, and licked his lips when he saw your dick.

He wrapped his hands around your dick, slowly moving up and down while you threw your head back, enjoying the sensations his warm hands around his dick sent through your body. You placed your hand over his cheek, caressing his face as he looked up at you and you gave him a small smile that he sent back.

With that, you started to grin, moving your hand towards his mouth, that he immediately opened, and almost shoved your thumb in his mouth while he squeezed your dick tighter. He swirled his tongue around your thumb, closing his eyes as he started to move his hips against the mattress.

"I believe you're ready Georgie, don't you think?" You teased, pushing your thumb down his tongue, making him open his mouth before you used your other hand to put your dick in front of George's mouth. He opened his eyes for a second, just to look at you before he closed them again and took all of your length in his mouth. You breathed out a shaky moan, enjoying the feeling of his warm mouth around your cock as he started to move his head up and down while his hand went towards your balls, massaging them. You started to raise your hips, slightly thrusting inside George's mouth and you moved your fingers through his brown hair, occasionally tugging them.

"You're doing such a good job baby. Taking me- Ahh! in your mouth so well…" You said, biting your lip. In response, George twirled his tongue around the head, getting a taste of pre-cum that made him want to moan out your name. Feeling your orgasm approaching, you tugged George's hair, effectively moving his face away from your cocka and making him look at you with an almost annoyed expression on his face.

"Come on, I want your ass, pretty. " You ordered, playfully tugging his hair again. George nodded, wasting no time to get out of his pants and boxers while looking directly at you. "How do you want it baby? Ass up face down?" You asked, sitting up just to kiss him slowly and passionately before you pulled away, biting his lower lip. "Yeah." George just mumbled, feeling himself get incredibly hard at your words alone as he started to turn around.

You chuckled, shaking your head and placing your hands on his back, pushing him on the mattress. "Where are your manners, pretty? When you want something…you ask please." You mumbled into his ear, grinning when you heard his breath inch in his throat as you placed your hand on his asscheeks, slowly making your way towards his hole. You first used one finger, just to tease him a little.

"Come on Georgie, say please." You teased, inserting one finger in his hole and, without wasting a second, you started to move the finger inside of him. Slowly pulling it out before slamming it inside of him again. "Please…" He whispered, eyes closed and fists clenching the bed sheets under him. "Please what? Come on, use your words, pretty." You mocked, adding another finger inside of him as he gasped, eyes flying open. "Please fuck me." He whispered, a red tint spreading all over his cheeks that made you smile cheekily. Lowering yourself, you quickly gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"See? You're such a good boy when you use your manners." You teased, getting a small scoff from him that made you chuckle. "Love you baby." You whispered before pulling away, completely removing your fingers from his ass. "Wh-What! Hey!" George mumbled, gasping as he suddenly felt the cold. You laughed, opening a drawer of his desk to take the lube and a condom, smirking slightly at George's offended face. "What? You wanted to be fucked baby, that's what you're gonna get." You said, wasting no time to sit on the bed and pouring some lube on your hand before using the other to put on the condom.

You started to finger George again, leaning down to leave small kisses, love bites and hickeys on his neck and back. He groaned, pushing his raised hips against your hand, wanting more friction. "Patience, pretty. I'll make you cum so hard on my cock alone that you will beg me to stop." You said, leaving a kiss on his shoulder as he shuddered under you, a small moan leaving his rosy and slightly bigger lips, due to all the times he bit them in the last hour. Another four minutes and three fingers, you deemed him as ready to take you. You used your free hand to jerk you off quickly, your erection quickly coming back as you got ready to fuck your pretty boyfriend.

"Ready?" You asked, taking your fingers off of him and replacing them with your dick, not even waiting for George to answer you. You slammed yourself inside of him, squeezing your eyes shut as your hips involuntarily jerked forward at the feeling of George's warmth around you. George however, let out one of the rare loud moans he ever made, biting the bed sheets at the familiar pain of being stretched by you. Even if it wasn't even close to being the first time you guys had sex, George still felt a little sting whenever you penetrated him, even after one year of relationship. "God you're so fucking tight, pretty. Always squeezing me so good." You said, moaning.

George felt his dick twitch under him at the praise, and let out a small sound to make you understand that he wanted you to move. "You want more?" You mumbled, smiling as George immediately nodded his head. With his consent, you started to move your hips. Slowly at first, and then pulled almost all the way out before slamming yourself inside of him again. "Fuck baby, you feels so good." You praised, moaning as he squeezed you even more. You kept your rhythm, not slowing down or picking up speed, wanting to first make George reach his own release before yours hit you completely.

You felt him move under you, and you slowed down, frowning as you thought the moan he just let out was a sign that he was enjoying it. "Everything good baby?" You said, your thrust coming to a stop. He nodded, but there was a bit of discomfort on his face. "What is it, Georgie? Was I going too hard?" You asked, worried you might have hurt him. He immediately shook his head, blushing red, but still refusing to meet your eyes. " I want to see you." He mumbled, readjusting a little.

You cooed, but slowly removed yourself from him and turned him around. "Wanted to be a pillow princess?" You teased, raising his legs to put them over your shoulders as George breathed out shakily, his eyes roaming from your face, to your chest and then to your hips. When you noticed it, you wasted no time to slam yourself back inside of his hole, grinning to yourself as he let out a moan and his pretty brown eyes widened, hands quickly gripping your body as if you were the only one thing to keep him sane.

"Aw, so much better right?" You teased, grinning as your skin slapped against his, as his legs circled your head, tugging you closer, as if he wanted… "More!". He breathed out, eyes shining with unleashed tears and lust as they met yours (E/C).

And you gave him more, while showering him with praises as his cock twitched against his stomach before he came untouched. But you didn't stop there, no, you kept your promise, still fucking him until he started to blab nonsense, until all he could think of was you while you drove yourself crazy, edging yourself until George started to beg you to cum, his hands reaching your shoulders to yank you towards him.

He slammed his lips against yours, his tongue making its way inside your mouth before he pulled away, leaving you breathless as he kept kissing your jaw and neck, until you felt his warm breath against your ear as he breathed out a single word, a word that you followed as if he ordered you. "Come."

Throwing your head back, your hips met his with less force as the force of the orgasm made you almost shake. George gave you a breathy chuckle when you lowered your whole body upon his, placing various kisses on his neck before you rested your head there. "Fuck baby, you were amazing. " You mumbled, closing your eyes briefly as George only smiled, raising his hand to play with your hair that was stuck on your forehead due to the sweat that covered both of your bodies.

“Dirty blond” my fucking ass

I would never condone watching F1 for free without subscribing to those expensive, corporate streaming sites that make millions from advertising other corporations.

And I would never condone clicking on this link to watch F1 pre-season testing and all the free practices, qualifying and races.

Don’t click on this link.

JOKES! Fuck that, free for all is what I say. No one should miss out on F1 because it’s expensive to watch.

Just to be clear…this is the link I am talking about. It streams F1 for free. FREE!