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Latest Posts by theothermercedesdriver-main

“in sound effects, what’s the difference between nascar and f1?”

hi I’m getting a bunch of new followers on this blog because of Sera (my beloved)’s fic that I helped with, so this is just a reminder to all of you lovelies that I do not post here, I post exclusively on @theothermercedesdriver , so if you are interested in me or my sebchal content that is the blog that will be more entertaining

hi I’m getting a bunch of new followers on this blog because of Sera (my beloved)’s fic that I helped with, so this is just a reminder to all of you lovelies that I do not post here, I post exclusively on @theothermercedesdriver , so if you are interested in me or my sebchal content that is the blog that will be more entertaining

mr/ms/mx 3303 (I don’t know your pronouns I’m sorry) i am begging on my hands and fucking KNEES to share that lactation Drabble before I go feral

you may call me ur lord 3303😌 (that's a jk u can call me whatever u want lmao)

but okay okay okay seeing as u want it so bad and im a benevolent ruler, here u go😌

Max had noticed Daniel’s eyes on him every time he fed Norah.

At first, he’d thought it was just to make sure their little girl fed properly and Max didn’t have any discomfort like he had when Norah was first born and feeding her had been painful. However, the longer they’d had Norah, the easier feeding her got and Max could easily still be answering emails on his phone over her head whilst Norah was latched onto him.

Yet now, Max thought there might be something more to it than Daniel just being an attentive partner. 

They’d been told their sex life could return to normal a couple of months after the birth, and Max had noticed that whenever Daniel fucked him, his hands would inevitably end up touching Max’s chest in some capacity. Max had always had sensitive nipples, even before he’d fallen pregnant, and during his pregnancy, Daniel had been sure to worship Max’s nipples and have him cum numerous times just from his tongue on him. 

“You’re so beautiful feeding her,” Daniel murmured sleepily, scrubbing his eyes where he stood in the doorway to Norah’s nursery and smiled over to Max. Max was sat back in the plush rocking chair, Norah latched onto him and her tiny fists pushing at Max’s chest. 

“I know, you tell me every time,” Max hit back. Daniel simply shrugged and walked over to Max’s side, sitting on the arm of the chair and stroking his fingers over their daughter’s chubby cheeks. 

“It’s because you do look beautiful. It’s such a cool thing that you can feed her.”

Max didn’t say anything aside from quirking an eyebrow up at Daniel but instead focused on Norah, pulling her away and gently shushing her when she whined. Norah latched on easily again to his opposite nipple, suckling against him happily. 

His nipple leaked slightly, however before Max could grab the cloth and wipe it away, Daniel’s hand shot out and swiped it away. 

There wasn’t much Max could do other than watch as Daniel stared at his fingers before he sucked them into his mouth. Norah was still feeding and Max knew she wasn’t going to be done soon but the dark look in Daniel’s eyes and the sensual way that Daniel sucked the milk from his fingers away made one thing very fucking clear to Max.

Daniel’s kink for Max being pregnant really did go beyond just knocking Max up, it was the whole thing. 

“You can go back to bed,” Max said thickly, swallowing down the sense of arousal that was running through him. “I’ll be fine feeding Norah by myself.”

Which he would be, it wasn’t a lie.

Norah was two and a half months old now, Max had fed her hundreds of times and he knew what he was doing. Norah was a very good baby at getting fed and Max knew the signs of when she was done and when she was still keeping going. And she loved being latched onto Max so he really did never have any problems with her. She fed happily and well and Max could easily look after her. 

Plus, it was 4am and there really was no need for them both to be awake. 

“Nah, I’m good, I’ll stay up with you,” Daniel shrugged, shifting on the arm so that he could put his arm around Max’s shoulders and kiss his hair. His hand was hanging down around Max’s neck and Max watched as Daniel ran his fingers lightly over Norah’s dark mop of hair she’d been born with. 

“You can go to sleep, Daniel, you don’t want to just sit here in silence.”

“I love watching you with our daughter,” Daniel shrugged.

They didn’t say anything else, simply let Norah feed silently and after Max had winded her and put her to bed, Daniel wrapped his arms around Max’s waist from behind and pulled him in tight. 

“Are you seriously hard?” Max sighed as Daniel ground into his ass.

“I love seeing you be a parent I’m sorry!” Daniel laughed lowly, mindful to not wake the sleeping baby, and pressed kisses across Max’s neck. 

Max grabbed his t-shirt that he’d previously been sleeping in and pushed himself out of Daniel’s arms, walking out of the bedroom and through to the living space of their apartment. 

“Max?” Daniel asked, following after him with a deep frown. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Max shrugged and sat down on the sofa, watching Daniel with an intense gaze. 

There really wasn’t anything wrong. 

He wasn’t uncomfortable or anything, but there was shit running through his mind and he needed to think away from the tiny being that had created this issue. 

Tentatively, Daniel sat down beside Max and put his hand on Max’s knee. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Seriously. There’s nothing wrong.”

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-”

“I told you nothing is wrong!” Max interrupted, slamming his hand down onto Daniel’s and looking at him properly. “But you need to stop fucking lying to me.”

“I’m not lying?” Daniel frowned.

“Really? So you just got hard because I was being a parent?” Max questioned and Daniel’s face went eerily blank. Rolling his eyes, Max shifted so that he was straddling Daniel’s waist, leaning up on his knees so his chest was at the same height as Daniel’s jaw. 

Max saw Daniel swallow thickly and his eyes flick down to Max’s chest before looking back up at him. 

“Do you want to tell me the truth?” Max whispered.

“Um, I um, I may find it really fucking hot that you can feed our child with your… your nipples.”

“You can call them tits, Daniel,” Max murmured, sliding his hands down Daniel’s body to grab his hands and bring them up to press into Max’s chest. “You used to call them tits when you’d make all your jokes about me being so much broader before we had Norah. What’s the difference now?”

“It’s so fucking hot, Max,” Daniel groaned, and Max moaned when Daniel squeezed his chest and lent into him to suck Max’s nipple into his mouth. 

Max’s hands immediately flew to Daniel’s hair and grab hold of it tightly, moaning loudly as Daniel’s teeth scraped and pulled over the nipple. They were already sensitive from just spending half an hour feeding their daughter, but with Daniel sucking and licking and biting, it was a plethora of arousal and pain that Max was in love with.

“Shit, Maxy,” Daniel whimpered, pulling away and Max grinned when he saw white stains around Daniel’s lips. “You taste so fucking good baby.”

“What’s better, coming down your throat or my milk in your mouth?”

“Both. Both are so good,” Daniel moaned. One hand came around to press into Max’s back and pull his chest in tighter, going back to sucking on Max’s nipples. 

When he fed Norah, he could often feel a slight tingly feeling in his chest, the feeling of his little girl suckling on his milk sending his nerves on fire, and of course his dumbass boyfriend was able to create the same reaction. 

Daniel was sucking and moaning, tongue lapping up against Max’s nipple with each pull of milk from his chest. Of course, Max could still feel Daniel’s hard cock under his ass, and as Daniel sucked on Max’s lactating nipple, Max started shifting his hips, rocking back and forth as his own hard cock starts to leak in his shorts.

“So good,” Daniel mumbled, pulling away to grab Max’s head and pull him back down for a deep kiss. Daniel’s mouth tasted like nothing Max had ever tasted before. There’s a milky taste but also something so different, something so uniquely Max, or Daniel. Max really didn’t know. 

What he did know was that his boyfriend sucking on his nipples and lapping up his leaking milk like a child was turning him on more than he could imagine. 

It was a very different sensation to feeding Norah. When he fed his daughter, it was clinical. She’d stay relatively still, little fists on Max’s chest and sucking happily.

With Daniel, he was moaning and flicking his tongue all over Max, his hands squeezing and pressing at Max’s skin as though he was a dying man and needed Max to keep him alive. It was very much like it was when he was torturing Max to his orgasm, rough and loud and Max can’t stop whimpering at how hard Daniel was going at him. 

“Dan- Dan- shit,” Max moaned, tears building up in his eyes as his hip movements became more frantic. The little noises of Daniel drinking down Max’s milk sent him hurtling towards his orgasm, and Max’s head dropped forward to press into Daniel’s. 

Daniel’s mouth was still moving, still sucking Max dry as Max lost control above him. As Max’s shorts dirtied with cum, Daniel pulled back, mouth open so that Max could see the milk in his boyfriend’s mouth before he swallowed it down. 

“Fuck,” Max groaned, pushing his ass down into Daniel’s cock and trying to push him towards his orgasm himself. 

Max’s fingers were still tangled in Daniel’s curls and pushed his face between Max’s chest, throwing his head back as Daniel started sucking hickeys onto his sternum. His hands were still on Max’s chest, massaging his skin with every touch having Max’s skin erupt in goosebumps.

“You like sucking my nipples, yeah?” Max breathily asked, “You like my leaking tits? You like it when I can feed you and our baby girl?”

“Yes,” Daniel moaned out.

“Is this gonna be a thing? Every time I feed our baby I gotta feed her daddy too? Or should I keep it as a treat for when you’re a good boy?”

“Fuck me,” Daniel whispered, eyes screwed shut as his head dropped backwards onto the sofa.

“Not now. But you could cum for me, show me that you liked what I gave you. What you made possible. You put a baby in me and now my nipples leak with milk because you knocked me up nearly a year ago, baby. A whole year since you bred my little ass and put a baby in me. I made you a Daddy, Daniel. And you should cum to show me just how much you love me for that,” Max cheeked before biting down on Daniel’s bottom lip and tugging on it hard.

Daniel wailed as his hips jumped and Max could feel his cock pulsing through both their pairs of shorts. Max kept rocking, humping lightly at Daniel’s front as he rode his man through his orgasm.

Once Daniel had managed to catch his breath back and his eyes were able to open and look up at Max, Max saw the dark arousal still present in Daniel’s eyes. 

Before either of them could say anything, Norah started crying and Max instantly climbed up, ignoring the discomfort of cold and sticky cum in his shorts to go and check his little girl was okay. There was definitely no chance he could get back to sleep now.

“You just sit there and think about what you just got, Daddy, I’ll be back soon,” Max grinned, wiping his hands over his chest before wiping them on the back of his shorts, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he walked off. 

Yeah Max was definitely going to have to get Daniel to suck on his nipples again. 

That was the most amazing thing he’d ever experienced and he absolutely was going to get himself off numerous times just thinking about Daniel sucking on him.

Maybe there were perks to a post-pregnancy body. 

hi I’m getting a bunch of new followers on this blog because of Sera (my beloved)’s fic that I helped with, so this is just a reminder to all of you lovelies that I do not post here, I post exclusively on @theothermercedesdriver , so if you are interested in me or my sebchal content that is the blog that will be more entertaining

Hiiiii Ari hope you’re doing well!? ❤️

I’m just dropping by to see if you’ll conjure up a small drabble about thigh riding, because I’m still not over this picture... 💁🏻‍♀️ * slinks back into bushes *

His hands were pressed onto your hips, moving with your body and occassionally adjusting to just feel your skin.

You wish you could record the noises for later. The breathless moans you let out every single time you rubbed yourself against his thigh. The slick sounds grom your bare pussy against skin. The dull slaps of your thighs against his. The occasional hum or groan Tony let out.

Tony pushed you onto his thigh and forced you to stay.

You were breathing heavy. That pressure on your pussy was hard, intense, dizzying, especially since you were so empty.

"Honey?"

You shook your head. "Yeah?"

Tony's infamous smirk shouldn't have made you hotter, but damn everything this man did was sexy. "Did you not hear me?"

You only blinked. He said something?

He laughed a little. "My girl's such a whore for me, huh?"

You snorted. "You love it."

That smile, damn that smile. You'd do anything for that smile. He leaned in closer to press his forehead against yours. "I do." Tony's lips met yours, and his hands cradled your cheeks as he kissed you.

You kissed him back, your hands coming to pull on his collar, an attempt to get him as close to you as possible. Following his lead, you leaned forward and shifted your hips.

"Woah there." Tony's hands were on your waist. "Don't get too excited, pretty girl."

You pouted, "Why not?" You nuzzled tour nose against the side of his neck. "Don't you wanna see your whore fall apart" -you gently kissed his jaw- "just from riding your thigh?"

"I do." His hand came to your neck, gently pulling you away from him. He licked his lips and took in the sight. No underwear, braless under an old t-shirt, perched on his thigh, and lips swollen from kissing, you looked like a vision from heaven or hell. "But you're only cumming on my command."

harry styles is so beautiful. he is poetry personified. he shines brighter than stars, shimmering like golden dust. he is soft piano, he is a fast string quartet that makes you feel like dancing atop a grassy hill. he makes the butterflies in my stomach spin tornadoes, and he makes me smile so hard it presses dimples into my cheeks. he is sunshine shining through wall to wall glass windows. his beauty makes me want to twirl and dance. he is glowing. he is beautiful.

2021 started out with me joining the 1998 Cats fandom.

I don’t have high hopes for the rest of the year.

I’d like to apologize to Nicholas Cage for making fun of the National Treasure movies for years for being inaccurate

Apparently I was wrong, it is in fact very easy to break into a government building

All poets are narcissists. I ate dinner alone; a little solitude is good for the soul. But when  I write it becomes a metaphor, it becomes a  balancing act, and suddenly everyone who  reads it watches through the looking glass. 

You are picturing me as you do for the women; young and slim, with hair falling like a curtain  as I raise my head to be watched, always unsure of the correct performance until the cameras  start rolling. Do I know how to be alone anymore?

Do I know how to carve an instance where I have  existed for myself, without the noose of inspiration hanging between my adept hands? I could construct a narrative where you stand at my door and you love me, I could construct a poem about our wedding even if we

never spoke. All poets are narcissists for thinking they can be loved without being watched. And if they - we - if I were seen, I would trip from the trapeze, I would land on the pedestal of persons to be pitied but never emulated,

the category of artists who hold torches so long they burn to the bone and sting the blood where poetry grows. It is  for simplicity’s sake that the performance goes on, it is  exhaustion with the mundane and craving to find purchase

from the vanities of self that have worth only when displayed.

because I reblog your shit you cynic

why are people liking my shit i’m only here for @theothermercedesdriver

Sure why not (Inspired by this masterpiece)

it has happened folks!!!!! the black sheep cover is real

The person I reblogged this from is someone I enjoy seeing on my dashboard.

My love language with one of my friends is texting each other at 4:00 AM for a conversation that always goes along the lines of “go to sleep” “no❤️”

Charles’ laughter to Lando’s reaction to “Milk the Goat”.

reblog and type ‘I miss’, ‘I love’ and ‘I hate’ in the tags and let your secrets be revealed!

reblog with your weird group chat name in the tags

AJFSAKLJFSDKLJFKLJLSKF- BERRY YOU SWEETHEART

Consider me punched!!!!

LOVE YOU ❤️✨❤️✨

IM GONNA STAND ON MY SOAP BOX RIGHT NOW AND YELL ABOUT FRIENDS REAL QUICK PASSIONATELY

@churchofrileytanev YOU!!!!!!! OH MY GOD YOU ARE SO NICE??? HOW DO YOU DO IT????? IT SHOULD BE A CRIME TO BE THAT NICE AND SWEET YOU ABSOLUTE DEITY. I HAVE FOLLOWED YOU FOR SO LONG AND I ADORE YOU BUD. KEEP DOIN WHAT YOU DO.

@goalies YOU BETTER PREPARE YOUR BODY BECAUSE I’M GONNA BODYSLAM YOU WITH LOVE. YOU ARE SO FUNNY AND GOOD AT DRAWING AND ARE SO POG. YOU MAKE ME HAVE A LOSS FOR WORDS 24/7 BECAUSE??? DAMN YOU ARE JUST WONDERFUL

@tychnoblade YOU!!!! FUCKER I WILL DROPKICK YOU WITH LOVE INTO A FLUFFY BEANBAG CHAIR CAUSE YOU DESERVE IT MORE THAN YOU THINK!!!! YOU ALWAYS SAY THE MOST WEIRD BUT FUNNY THINGS!!!!! YOU!!! GAH YOU MAKE MY HEART GO AAAAAAAAAAA EVERYTIME YOU SAY SOMETHING

@hollyjollyjosty I’M NOT GONNA LEAVE YOU OUT OF THIS ONE BUCKAROO. YOUR ART??? POG!!!!!! YOUR PERSONALITY???? POG!!!! YOU AS A WHOLE?????? EPIC POG!!!!!!!! YOU MAKE ME SO HAPPY, AND EVEN THOUGH WE DON’T TALK A LOT I NOTICE YOU IN MY NOTES ALL THE TIME!!!!!!!

@theothermercedesdriver-main WE HAVE BARELY TALKED BUT.. PHENOMAL PERSON!!!!!!!! YOU JUST- AAAAAAA!!!!!!! YOUR F1 CONTENT IS POG AND YOU SHOULDN’T UNDERESTIMATE YOURSELF. I WILL PUNCH YOU IN THE CHEST WITH LOVE!!!!!!!

hi how dare you this is gorgeous

We were talking about screensavers and how they're only for kids who grew up with dial-up. I liked the one with the pipes and found the brick maze creepy.

I like a silence like a bloom. I have a tradition about car washes. The first time I saw the angle of your collarbone I swallowed my tongue. I have a tradition about bedtimes. I have a tradition about birds.

I have been thinking about what it means to find ritual in the sinful places. You and I in a car as two raindrops race to the same pathway. You and I on a bridge where the sun has her fingers in your hair. You and I at all.

There are private prayers, after all. The way a room full of people will watch a single box bump around a frame until it perfectly hits the corner. The way we hold our breath and then sigh "okay" when we're all strung out. The way people put their hands, reverent, on a railing.

There is the mythology of werewolves that one can turn the other by bite. My father's voice on a Friday - Who turned you gay? Who? Who?

The prayer of your knitted socks. The mythology of knowing your hair and saying, with authority - yes. I know God.

i think what’s on a person’s nightstand is very telling so reblog this and put in the tags the things you have on your nightstand

what are things you could confidently info dump about? if I needed a beginner’s course on something, what could I go to you about?

sheet music costing money is homophobic

You can only REBLOG THIS TODAY

The inclusion of Jean-Jaques Leroy has me on the FLOOR dude

i got a college degree and the thing i’m most proud of producing in the process is a full academic presentation about what makes a himbo

Through tears, I reblog.

I am a cis woman. I feel no shame about that. But damn did this make me take a fucking step back.

Also the writing is simply stellar

I Am A Transwoman. I Am In The Closet. I Am Not Coming Out.

this made me cry, so i have to share it. i can’t tell you how much of this feels like it was about my childhood.

“Some nights, always alone, I go out in stolen makeup and women’s clothes with an ID I found in a lost wallet. I never feel more male than on these nights”

Not to be ✨sad✨ or anything but I miss the days when watching Tinker Bell movies was an immediate way to cheer myself up

It’s been a few hours, you’ve just been hanging there. You’ve been quiet, too quiet. Usually there’s music playing, or your foot steps could be heard. But today, you’re quiet. Your little sister, who doesn’t normally come to greet you because you lock yourself away, decides to see what you’re doing. She assumes you’re taking a nap, or doing some homework quietly. She runs up the stairs, eager to see, but she comes to an immediate halt. You’re not doing your homework, nor taking a nap. Your music isn’t playing and you aren’t walking around. You’re hanging there, completely still, now just like her. At this moment, her whole world shatters. Everything she has ever known, looked up to, loved, is hanging there by a thread. At this moment, her life has been changed forever. At this moment, she wishes she was hanging with you.

Before you decide to take your life, imagine who will find you. Imagine them walking into a room, and seeing you just hanging there. Whether it be your little sister, little brother, mother father, grandparents, a friend. Imagine what will happen when they find you. No, they will not say “Finally, they’re gone.” No, they will not say “I’m happy they did that.” No, they will not say “I never loved them anyways.” They will die. Their hearts will break. They will hurt, more than you ever could. They will cry, scream, and break down. They’ll believe it’s all just a dream, praying to wake up. Except, they won’t feel that for a few seconds, or a few days, not weeks, nor months. They will feel that until the day they die. Everyday will be hell. They’ll think of you ever second. They’ll hate themselves for not being able to help or save you. They’ll wish they could die too. They’ll want to give up, just to be with you. They won’t be ever be happy again. They won’t smile. They won’t go back to their daily routine. They’ll die every time they walk past your room, or see a picture of you, or think of a memory with you. They’ll think, but stay quiet. They’ll visit your grave, feeling a knife go through their chest every time. And every morning when they wake up, no matter how long it’s been, they’ll wake up to thinking they’ll see you, only to be let down once again. And every night, they will cry themselves to sleep, because even though they refuse to admit it, know you’re gone forever.

Before you decide to take your life, think of your family, burying you. Yes, your own mother and father are planning your funeral. It’s supposed to be the other way around, but it’s not. They’ll have to call the cops, sign a death certificate, pick out clothing, buy a tomb stone, a casket, pick out flower arrangements, and more; All for their child’s funeral. The morning of your funeral, everyone who loves you is wearing black. Tears are streaming down their face, while their heart is breaking. Everyone who you thought didn’t need you, or didn’t care, are waiting in line to see you. They aren’t waiting in line at a party, or a graduation, or at a wedding reception. They’re waiting to see you, hands folded, lifeless, in a casket.

Before you decide to take your life, think of everyone you will be hurting. Don’t you dare say no one, because absolutely everyone will be affected. Your grandparents, won’t have a grandchild anymore. Your parents, won’t have a child anymore. Your brother or sister, won’t have a sibling anymore. Your pet, won’t have an owner anymore. That person you sit next to in class, won’t feel your presence anymore. Your teacher, won’t have a student anymore. That time your grandparents told you no, will haunt them forever, thinking it is their fault, that you are now dead. That time your parents yelled at you, will haunt them forever, thinking if they didn’t yell at you, you would still be here. That time your sibling said they hated you, will hate themselves, because they believe you would still be alive if they said they loved you instead. Those kids who made you feel bad, will wish they were dead too, because if they just smiled at you instead, you would be here. That teacher that said you didn’t meet her expectations, will feel like a failure, because you would still be here, if she believed in you. Everyone, who has ever been in your presence, will hurt, because if they showed you they cared, you would still be here.

Before you decide to take your life, think. Don’t just think of yourself, think of the consequences for everyone else. No one’s life will be the same again. That person who God made specially for you, won’t have you. That happiness that was waiting for you, will never show again. Before you decide to take your life, realize that you may be ending your pain, but you’ll be starting a lifetime of everyone elses.

If you are feeling alone, and think that suicide is the only way out:

My ask is open, and I’m always here. I’ll never judge you. I’ll try to help you.

If you are thinking of taking your life, call:

1-800-784-2433

1-800-SUICIDE