#I have the beginning in my head and the end but the middle is like pulling teeth trying to plot out omfg

[ink-n-shadow]

Thinkin’ about Price, who’s on med leave and under strict orders not to engage in any strenuous activity, begging his controversially young wife to take pity on an old man and fuck him.

Your daughter is born nine months later. You like to joke she exists bc your husband was actually home long enough to put a baby in you.

NOW YOU GOT ME THINKIN ANON—

[ MEDICAL LEAVE ] 𝜗𝜚 the one where john's finally home long enough to get you pregnant

𝜗𝜚 pairing: john price x younger wife!reader (reader is afab) 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), age gap (price is in his late 30s, reader is late 20s), mentions of surgery/recovery, john having a pain kink (need i say more?), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it/get tapped), unedited as usual, bad ending

"john, the doctor had strict orders for you to—"

you're cut off mid-rant by john slotting his lips over yours, the mitts of his hands covering your cheeks and tugging your face closer to his. his tongue juts out to lick needily at the seam of your lips, the faint taste of the painkillers he had just taken still fresh on his tastebuds only to be replaced by the sweet mint of your toothpaste.

john would've kept kissing you, too, if he hadn't tried to twist his hips over to face you, making him pull away sharply and hiss out at the way the fresh sutures etched in his ribs twinged in pain.

"john—"

"m'fine," john grunts out hoarsely as he lays back down flat on his back, eyebrows pinched low in the middle of his forehead and tongue licking at the remnants of your spit on his lips. "just wanna—christ—wanna be inside ya."

and that’s how you got to your current position, sitting directly behind john’s thick and leaking cock as you lean back to rest your hands on his hairy muscled thighs—anywhere that wasn’t sutured closed or bruised from the surgery he’d undergone. from beneath furrowed brows, your soft eyes focused on the molten heat buoying in his pupils.

“i don’t wanna accidentally hurt you, john,” the end of your sentence comes out pinched in a whine as the calloused pad of his thumb begins circling your sopping clit, your hips jumping at the stimulation and instinctively rolling forward against his sensitive cock.

john uses the thumb petting at your clit to distract you from the way he manhandles you up, notching the head of his cock between your folds and holding you there for a moment. “i don’t fuckin’ care if it hurts, ‘lright? don’t wan’ you stoppin’ until i feel you cummin’ ‘round my cock four times, and i fill up this pretty fuckin’ pussy—understand me?”

and even though john’s cemented into your shared bed on his back, he keeps you all nice and obedient under his thumb, using the hand he keeps groping at your hip as a way to guide the way your movements. every so often, his sutures would twinge in just a way to send a jolt of pain up his spine—but then he would feel your gummy walls gripping his cock just a little tighter, and the pain would warp into delicious pleasure.

you, ever the good little wife you were, did exactly as john told you—only pulling off of him when your fluids were a messy mixture between my thighs and you could barely walk to the bathroom on wobbly legs.

it didn’t even cross your mind when a month and a half later, you’re a mess of hormones and continuous morning sickness that threatens to knock you out from work for a couple days. john tells you it’s fine, that he’ll work some more late nights to cover your income for a couple days, but you’re determined to keep working.

only after nearly fainting at your home one morning (after john fucked you through at least 2 orgasms) did you find yourself on the doctor’s examination table, fingers nearly snapping john’s hand bones in half when he read off the positive pregnancy result.

and when your daughter is born nine months later (december 14th, by the way—a sagittarius baby), you’re curled up in the hospital bed with john holding you closely, the baby sandwiched comfortably between you two and grappling at one of his thick fingers.

“y’know how long i’ve been waiting for this?” you giggle out softly as you nose against john’s beared jaw, eyes fluttering closed and system overflowing with painkillers and endorphins. “guess you were finally home long enough to actually put a baby in me this time.”

[destinationtrekk]

young wesker who gets drunk and giggly with reader. at first he had been so... cold, so expressionless and absolutely cluelessly bone-dry on how to go about doing anything but a daylight two-step move-his-arms-a-little to the dance music blaring from somewhere, but that's okay, reader can show him.

and he enjoys it... and he's laughing, and his face is flushed, and the scent of vodka is deep on his tongue, and he has severely miscalculated his drink, but that's okay, because reader keeps him safe and happy and distracted the entire time.

at the end, as he begins to sober up, they can't seem to get out of him where he's supposed to go to now (perhaps he is trying to revel in it, this one normalcy, just one event he took on to learn how to behave like everyone else and got taught more about himself and his own interests than he'd ever planned, a snapshot of a life he could have lived if only--) so they take him back to their house and snuggle him up in a blanket burrito on the couch, making him drink water, take an advil, a tylenol.

and as he gets back to himself and they smoke a cig, talking about life as he gets rather quiet and inward again (for he cannot share, he has nothing positive or appropriate to), they do something unexpected and yet wholly welcome, a gift to close out the night: they give him a quick, brief and fleeting shotgun kiss, hand warm on his cheek, before they send him off for a nap, telling him to stay the night so he'll be well and sober the next day to depart. free breakfast if he's still around by then, otherwise, they take no offense.

he has no way of telling them the truth of this fragile matter. he has no way of divulging his life, which would undoubtedly ruin whatever scrapbook memory he is currently creating, and certainly no way to hold onto this awfully pleasant being who he can, apparently, trust in his total ineptitude with heavy inebriance. and he can't keep seeing them again after this. and his view on how ruthless and manipulative human beings are when faced with vulnerability has been shaken to its' core, and he can't say it, and he wants to, but...

instead he asks them to stay a little while he falls asleep (just one final, little test, he muses to himself), and they oblige. he's laid on the couch, head in their lap, his (admittedly not quite so soft after all the gel has hardened) hair being carded through by soft, ever-eager, sleepy fingers. he will never get a moment like this again and he pushes himself to take it in, revel in every second that passes, commit to absolute memory (no matter what he had earlier in the day) every detail of this sightly, sweetly saint's face.

he ends up falling asleep feeling cherished. he will remember this day forever. years to come he will still have tabs on this person, and their life will still be unexpectedly, oddly lucky.

maybe one day he'll find it in him to thank them properly, face-to-face...

nshtn can i say i love you? because i love you and every time you come in my inbox i get so excited

first and foremost i don't think he even would dance at a party. he very much is the kind of guy to find a spot and linger there with a group he's only half listening to. once he meets you though his night gets much much more interesting

he's never really had chances to drink, except maybe whiskey or something expensive with Spencer during their talks about Umbrella and the future, so when you start handing him all kinds of seltzers and mixed drinks and straight shots of vodka, he is very overwhelmed

he can't show it though! so he dutifully takes most of what you hand him, a few drinks are two sweet for him, and he is very quickly wasted tbh. you're so nice though, and you drag him in the middle of everyone dancing and show him a few easy things and soon enough he's bouncing around with everyone else

every time he starts to think about what's going to happen tomorrow you're immediately there to distract him. it's almost like you can read his mind - you know just the right things to say and how to push people out of the way and he just thinks you're perfect under the flashing lights

finally when it's time to go home, he knows for a fact he can't show up at his place looking messed up as he is - what if Spencer or Birkin or some nameless Umbrella employee saw him and ratted him out? so he takes your offer to go to your house gracefully as he can this drunk

he knows now that you're a party expert, you immediately make him drink water and wash his face and take preemptive tylenol for the hangover. your fleeting kiss and warm hands on his sweaty skin are so sweet he can't bear to think about it longer than he has to. he knows he should leave before you wake up tomorrow and forget this wonderful night ever happened (he'll never forget you, not even on his deathbed)

you give him every courtesy and kindness you can offer and he decides to take just one more, one last sweet touch to take with him into the night. you smile sleepily and open your arms for him to fall into - the blanket covering his shoulders is a little too hot and you both smell like beer and liquor and sweat but your lap is so soft, it makes the ache in his back and shoulders from carrying the world lessen a bit, and your fingers in his hair send him into a beautiful and silent sleep

the next morning it physically pains him to untangle from your body on the couch. he stands and watches you for a moment, his heart clenching and pounding in his chest, until he forces himself out the door before you can feel his absence.

when he meets you again, what feels like a thousand years later, his heart pounds just the same. you recognize him, his twisted dark smirk and deep eyes, and when you smile and say his name he's suddenly twenty-something all over again and dizzy and drunk in your arms - he never wants to leave you again

[firemenenthusiast]

—“autumn”

jann mardenborough x fem!reader

summary: how many anniversaries could we actually get through ?

warnings: angst. read at your own risk

a/n: this has always been my favourite type of trope so rest assured, im totally fine and so excited to have written one myself (yippee😆)

“But you stuck around when I was down. And I'll owe you all my days”

anniversaries.

anniversaries is such a pure concept. a reminder of the exact day the paths of two stray souls intersect, a reminder for the beginning of a story, a reminder that maybe the universe isn’t pawning off of human misery afterall. jann loved anniversaries, he loved them so much so he went beyond his way to remind you of the day the paths of the stray soul within the both of you intersected. every single year, without fail would he plan something just to get to spend time with you, just to get to see you, in any way possible.

jann loved reliving the day he swore he was gonna spend the rest of his life with you, eventhough the two of you had just met. if he was to be offered the chance to be there again, in that park, bumping into you, he would snatch it off the offering hand so no one else would get there before him. again and again, no matter how long he’ll be stuck in the loop, no matter how much it’s violently clawing away every inch of his being. he would choose you, every. single. time, in a blink on an eye.

conveniently, today’s the anniversary of the day a really tall curlyhead made you drop the fresh pastry that was just handed to you by the nice cart uncle whom you saw almost every time you were strolling through the park. it was a major setback of your day, and you were close to erupt chaos of rage in the middle of the park seeing your pain au chocolat rolling on the ground helplessly, covered in dirt. at that time, the pastry seemed to be the only thing that could save you from a mental breakdown from a hell of a day you had just went through. so when a silly nerd decided he was gonna practise walking for the first time in his life and bumped into you, you felt like smacking him in the back of his head. if only you could actually reach it.

conveniently, the same silly nerd felt really bad about the whole situation, so much so he insisted on getting you a new one from the nice uncle’s cart. but this story would’ve ended right that moment if the nice uncle had more to offer. aparently the filth indulgent pastry on the ground was one of the few last ones he had to carry. it was in the evening after all, nobody were actually looking forward to some flaky, buttery goodness at that time. you were ready to accept everything the universe had planned for your misery that day, to just drag your feet home with slumped shoulders, tired eyes and tastebuds yearning for what could’ve been your sitting-by-the-fountain snack. and you did, but not without the silly nerd’s offer of getting you one the next day, as a repayment of his crooked steps that were the cause of the tragedy to the french, which of course, was the pastry on the ground.

conveniently, when you walked through the park the next day, on the same path you do every day after work, you saw the silly nerd again. only this time he didn’t look so silly, because in his hands were already two pain au chocolats, beautifully wrapped with a sheer paper, just in time for your arrival. it’s like he knew exactly when you were gonna come, and it’s like he knew that you weren’t gonna stood him up on that offer. in reality, it was nothing like that. he couldn’t get the nerves out of his system, and he almost bleed out his bottom lips from biting on them too hard in anticipation on whether you were gonna come.

he had every right to think that after the awkwardness and the clumsiness he displayed the day before, you were gonna think that he’s such a loser. and that such a beauty like you wouldn’t ever dare to even be in his presence ever again. he accepted that fact, he did. but he was willing to risk it, he was willing to appear stupid in that park again, holding two pastries in his hands like some kind of idiot. to his suprise, he got to see that pretty face again. the muscly organ behind his chest beat like it was gonna replace the pastry from the day before, on the ground, rolling in dirt. the universe owe him one for what happened, so what was actually displayed on his face when he saw you was a bright smile. a smile so bright that it was contagious, so bright that it jumped right onto your face too.

the two of you spent the rest of the evening by the fountain, enjoying the pastry together, realising that you enjoyed one another more than the deliciousness in your hands. the doors of your homes at that time welcomed the arrival of two people back home, separately ofcourse, noticing the obvious grins on your faces. it was almost cliche, and the story sounded like it jumped right out of a 90s romcom. only that those always end with a happy ending, making them the definition of cliche.

every thing seemed to be so conveniently sketched out in the story about the both of you, yet what actually made it all possible were the two hearts that tugged themselves towards each other, the willingness to make space for one another, and the fondness that was growing. yes, it all happened in a simple way, but what most people dont get is that simplicity is often overlooked. for the both of you, simplicity is what tied two beings together. loving you was simple for jann. it came almost like breathing for him, and it’s like he was dead for the first part of his life, before he met you. jann liked simple, but not as much as he loved you. if complexity is what he had to endure to keep you in his heart, to keep you close, then he’s willing to be demented for the rest of eternity.

jann had this routine he’d been doing since your very first anniversary, that he without fail would go over, sometimes even adding new things to the tradition he thought you’d like. walking down the pavement below his appartment, towards the cute little flowershop right beside the cafe, he already knew what he would get.

your flowers.

the flowers that he’d told you reminded him of you, and the flowers that he said represented you so well. he told you countless times whenever he’d get you those flowers that even with them beside you, you’re still so much prettier. and as corny as it might sound, you had to conceal the heat and red rushing towards your face.

jann had his way with words, particularly because they weren’t purposely formed to flatter you, they were actually a fragment of his love for you. sometimes he didn’t even realise that he was making you feel all giddy inside, and that his rosy cheeks were suddenly looking all kissable. at this point mrs. anderson from the flowershop already got the bouquet prepared for him, and it’s just the most convenient thing ever. one thing stripping him away from the whole routine is deliberately picking out each stem to build the bouquet. it was around your sixth anniversary had mrs. anderson realised that jann had been walking through her door around the same time of every year.

jann always came in to buy the exact same flowers in the fall, without fail.

so she stuck out and showed interest to the flowers jann had been getting all those years, asking about who was it for, what’s the occasion and all. she learned a lot about you from listening to jann without even having met you. that time when you actually walked into the shop with jann, you were slightly taken aback by how much the woman knew about you. jann was just chuckling in the background at the whole meeting, amusement clearly accompanying him. the both of you had become her favourite couple since then.

because of the season, the flower would become harder to obtain. it wouldn’t be found anywhere else accept mrs. anderson’s, that happened to be right at the corner of his apartment, just a walk down the pavement away. has anyone been keeping the word count on the word convenient so far ? even if the small shop around the corner didn’t carry your flowers, he would be walking to the final edge of the earth if he had to. what could you say ? jann’s a stickler for routines and when the routine involves making you happy, he’d be more than ecstatic.

on this exact date every year, your routine is to put on your best clothes, stand in your most gorgeous pair of shoes, and walk to the park where the two of you met that particular evening with your prettiest face. but that was never a problem. you’d sit on the creaking wooden hazel bench and wait for jann. only that on your anniversaries, jann wouldn’t knock your fresh pastry down to be eaten by the ground. the routine you two had for your anniversary was maybe corny and cheesy to some, but it reminds you of the silly nerd that looked like he was damn near picking up the little snack he’d accidently made you drop to lick all the dirt off of it before handing it back to you. you were forever grateful he didn’t actually do that, because you didn’t think you’d be coming back the next day to meet him in the same spot.

somewhere around your 12th anniversary, 8 years after your marriage did the park became no longer the strategic spot for your anniversary meet up, as it was no longer suitable for the picnic the both of you would set up to just bask in each other’s warmth amidst the breeze of autumn, intertwining your fingers till sometimes they get entangled. even though it was simple, yet it was the date you’d look forward to all year round. it was so special, that you promised each other that the tradition wouldn’t die down, away with one of you. every time you’d sit on the checkered blanket weighted down by the basket and both your figures, you’d talk about the future, and what the both of you hope for each other. it was nice, really nice. especially when jann would bring up the topic of having a mini you around the house, your cheeks would heat up and the cold would always expose the rosy tint away. he thought it was the cutest thing ever, which was why he swore he’d never stop teasing you about it.

it was also in that very park, on a walk the both of you decided to take on a random saturday did he first said that he loved you, to which you told him the same. it was pure, what the two of you had. you were so good for each other, a few fights ? ofcourse, but nothing could infiltrate the depth of fondness you held within your core.

it’s your 15th anniversary today, a huge number yet it feels so small. how fast time flies when you spend the entirety of your life devoted to each other. jann couldn’t help the bittersweet smile creeping onto his face as he walk on the fluffy grass, his hand swiping across the swinging wooden sign when he steps past.

“c’mon, lets go see mommy sweetheart” the little girl clinging onto jann’s large hand seemed to not have anything to protest, as she obediently arranges her new steps infront each of them, eyes focused on her little strawberry shoes.

seeing her so determined sends a tingle in his heart, how could a human this small be so precious to him ? how could a small human that he just met three years ago be so dear to him that if anything were to happen to her he’d ask the devil to lunge his sword right into his chest himself ? well maybe that’s a bit too graphic but he stands by his point.

“hey honey, we’re here” jann announces in a sing songy tone, to get the little girl’s attention and to tell her they’ve arrived at their destination.

crouching beside his daughter, jann holds her chubby arms to face her towards you, handing her the bouquet of your flowers the both of them had fetched from mrs. anderson so she could place it on the shiny sleek marble slab, engraved on it are your first and middle name, and ‘mardenborough’ at the end of them.

it’s true that the park was no longer suitable, as you had been forever eternalized someplace else.

“sorry we’re a bit late, someone insisted on wearing her strawberry shoes this morning instead of her favourite purple ones she makes me put on her every single day” jann informs, talking to the non-responding piece of stone with a warm smile, his large hands almost covering the entirety of the little child’s anterior. a pair of amber hued orbs stares back at him, obviously unamused knowing that her dad was talking about her.

“atleast that shows that she’s got fashion sense just like you. i mean, it couldn’t possibly be from me” the end of his sentence is accompanied by a soft laugh, before it slowly trails away. pulling a deep breath, he looks over to the little hand pulling at his curls at the side of his head. the same curls that is also on top of hers.

“hey you wanna tell mommy what we did yesterday ?” the girl nods at his offer, perking up to exercise her speech that has started to get really put together. jann’s more excited knowing that compared to last year, she gets to actually tell you what they did the day before, having only gained her speech earlier this year. they tried telling you last year, but all that came put were mumbles of the words ‘mama’ and ‘dada’. seemed to be all she knew back then.

“we went to picnic in daddy’s park, had pasty” she begins, which also seems to be the end too, earning a light chuckle from jann.

“it’s pastry, but you get it” he informs with a hand gesture, smoothing his hand over her head, the luscious curls moving back against his palm.

trailing his eyes across every inch of your stone, his hand reaches up to graze over the surface, dragging with his fingers the thin dust film. all he could do was smile, forcefully tucking away the heavy, deep longing painfully dragging down his core. the least he could do to show his love for you now is to raise his little girl to be the amazing person he once knew you were. he prays, every single day that he has what it takes to replicate such beauty from within.

the picnic tradition the both of you had changed now, for a slightest bit. instead of going on your exact anniversary date, jann now brings your daughter to the park a day before to spend the entire evening, reminiscing about you. it’s his way of keeping the memory of you always alive for his daughter. and the next day would be reserved to go see you at a totally different location, far away from the park.

seeing as his daughter wouldn’t get to grow up with the warmth of your love as much as he got to, he decided that this will be the way of him sharing what’s left of that love with her, by devoting this tradition to remind his daughter that her mother will always be looking out for her. jann wishes that the tradition of your anniversary will live forever, until the universe sends him the invitation of reuniting with you again, in a different universe.

a universe far away from the one where a love story is so conveniently sketched out, that it was too good to be true.

there’s a reason why two stray souls could only intersect, as they would eventually pass over each other at some point.

taglist: @r4vn @love-me-pls @radioloom @farleighlover @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @luckystrikerealness @juniperhasfallen @themoonchildwhofell @khxna @fuckshitslover @szapizzapanda @inglourious-imagines

divider creds: @rookthornesartistry

[coffee-master]

[IDEA TO USE: TRANS STANLEY PINES]

[Lee Pines]

I wish there was a fanfic about trans Stanley Pines, who realised he was trans AFTER he was kicked out of the house.

Honestly I belive that during his childhood and teenage years there would be visible sights, but Stand ignored it due to the many circumstances.

I also think that his realtionship with his father would be maybe ever worse? I belive that Filbrick would often complain that his "daughter" was making more mess than his other sons, or complain for not being "a typical girl" or "girly" or other stuff.

Anyway-

After being kicked out I think that due to the new enviroment and other people (good and bad) Stan would probably run into some queer group in one of the bars. Maybe he would try to scam them or steal.. But somehow he would end up with a conversation AND REALISATION.

Egg cracking.

Later Stan would realise that he's a guy and do something about it. (In illegal way due to the situation)

He would do some dirty job to get some shots of testosterone. And it would start working.

He made a call to one of his old pals (on crime) to get a top surgery. The operation was of course a big risk (like 70% you survive, 20% you will die of blood loose on the table and 10% you die due to the infection if the surgery went bad)

I think the transition would have a positive impact on his mental health (like:; "Yeah Testosterone won't solve my money or family problems BUT LOOK WHO CAN GO SHIRTLESS!!)

A little steps would make him smile.

(TW: Another small detail is that during his living on the streets before transition Stan would probably also experience some sexuall harrasment) [I'd have a big impact on him]

Another think is that the transition would help him with his crime record. Slowly [DEADNAME] Pines wanishes away and nobody knows where or how and nobody can susspect him anymore.

From now on He would call himself Lee Pines. (simply)

[Let's be honest. I don't think Lee change his name to Stanley.. it's just like Stanford.. But that's only my opinion]

But Lee Pines would get himself more criminal record and in the end still use new fake IDs and ect.

NOW.

Let's get to the part where Lee gets a postcard from Stanford.

NOW THIS IS WHERE THE REAL FUN BEGIN! Because he doesn't know about this whole stiation.

Stanford is waiting impatiently for his twin sister to show up in his Shack, but when he opens the door, he sees this MESSY HOMELESS GUY (suspicionsly similar to him)

"WHO ARE YOU?! DID YOU COME HERE TO STEAL MY EYES!?" - Stanford is ready to shoot.

Lee is clearly confused. He expected that his twin wouldn be shocked to a man at his doorsteps. But he didn't expect it would go like this-

"Geez, you sure now how to-" Before he could even finish his sentence Ford rapidly moved his crossbow even closer to his face.

"Who are you!?" Stanford yelled insantly.

"Woah Woah- Chill out pointexter-" The messy twin slowly raised his hands up.

"Talk. Now." Ford threatened.

"I'm your brother you dumbass-!" Lee yelled flustration and anger, not paying attention to his words at all.

Instead of being angry Ford only laughed manically at the answer. Shermie was far away with his own family. Moreover adding the fact that he didn't keep in touch with him in a long time. The answer was just hilarious!

"Wrong answer, try again." Ford smirked thinking this must be some trick of imagination or another shape-shifting creature from this forest.

Meanwhile Lee was terrified seeing his brother in this state of mind. Just what exacly happened to him?

But before he could even question this whole Madness, he heard counting.

"Five.." It was Ford. "Four.." And he was counting down.

He was counting down-

Who could have even guessed that reunion with his brother could cost him his head? Nevertheless Lee prefered to stay in one piece.

So he spoke.

All that he know.

"In the middle school I used to take your box class, since you hated it so much and once Pa' found out, he was pretty pissed at both of us!" Immiediately he saw how Ford was taken aback.

It was a good sigh.

So he kept going.

"During summer we'd go on the beach and pretend to be treasure hunters! One time we wanted to make a fireplace next to the boat? I used my dresses as a firelighter and later I was 'forced' to wear your nerdy clothes as a punishment! We had a pet! Shanklin the Stab Possum! World's greatest pet!" He talked and talked until there was no oxygen for him to breath.

But he did it.

Ford blinked dumbfoundly instantly taking a step back from him. Lee didn't hesitate and used this opportunity once again.

"You told me to come here! You send me a post card!" He slowly reached to his pocked, taking out the pice of paper and rapidly waved it in his face.

"What.." Confused twin lowered his weapon down at the sight of the evidence.

"A lot has changed during those ten years brainiac." Finally the other twin said a little coldly, after seeing Ford putting weapoon away. "I go by Lee now." He added simply.

For a moment Stanford didn't say a thing, as if he've just got a brain damage.

"You know what? This isn't the weirdest thing I've seen. Get inside!" Stanford didn't have the time to question, especially when outside, everyone could see them.

Instead he dragged "Lee" into his house.

You can guess what happened next.

And, If someone would be interested in writing a fic about this or something similar then go ahead! DO IT! This is free to use!!!

Please!

Just tag me, becuase I'd like to read it too...👉👈

[feyfern-moss]

YALL, HEAR ME OUT-

BillFord and MaxWil, at their core, are practicaly the same candy in different wrappers

Bill has tricked Ford into building (from Bill's instrcuctions) an interdementional portal by appealing to Ford's sientific curiousity and ego that craves validation so badly, that it can be won over by just a few compliments.

Maxwell ALSO has tricked Wilson into building (from the "Forbidden knowlage" he provided Wilson with) an interdementional portal by appealing to Wilson's sientific curiousity and severely undervalidated ego.

Both Bill's and Maxwell's portals led Ford and Wilson respectivly into a place that can easily be described as "Hell", and had them trapped there for a while.

Both couples have this sort of unhealthy doomed lovers to enemies dynamic (You can't convince me Wilson didn't felt at least a little bit of gay when Maxwell was overlooking the process of the portal's creation, and was manipulating Wilson into trying more than his best by frequent compliments, which i say counts as lovers) that can, potentialy, end in the full proper redemption arc for the villain of the couple and lead to proper healthy gay

And now for general similarities

Ford and Wilson

A mad sientist, who lived in a two stories shack in the middle of the woods

A little bit of wonky anatomy (Ford's six fingers; Wilson's entire fucking head everywhere under hairline. HIS HAIR HAS BONES OF IT'S OWN INSIDE)

Stuck for a while in a strange world that is not his home one, had to seriously toughen up while being there

A very fragile ego

Red turtleneck/vest

"I trusted you!"

Massive "queer. Aro? Ace? Gay? Not sure which one, but at least one of these for sure. Maybe all three." vibes

His "muse" came to them when he was stuck at seemingly a dead end of a research

Bill and Maxwell

Drapper fellow

Manipulative asshole with a backstory of high angst potentials (Which is caused entirely their own fuck-ups)

Theatrical and flamboyant

Twins are at most important, at least very close to charcater (For Bill it's both sets of Pines Twins, the Stans and the Mystery twins; For Maxwell it's he and his own twin brother, and his nieces, who are twins, Wendy and Abigail)

"Not my fault, that you are so guilable."

Once held a lot of power, now does not, and suffers (Bill in Theraprism, dude does NOT seems to enjoy therapy; Maxwell as a survivor, being in The Constant as one is NOT fun) as a punishment for their villainy

Striked many deals with a lot of other people, but the deal between him and his sience boy was very special, on the level of how it was carried out. (For Bill, uniqueness of the deal lies in the specific, a bit too personal connection to Ford; For Maxwell it's the fact that he gave Wilson the time, the long term deal during which Wilson built the portal, instead of just grabbing ppl and dragging them into The Contsant without a second of chill sounds like him wanting some lovey-dovey time before the betreyal reveal)

Also, both had a period where there was a very homerotic animosity. (With Bill and Ford it's just the entirety of their interractions throught the whole show; With Maxwell and Wilson it's after Max is dethroned and has to survive in the same world as Wilson, and they fight a lot in the beginning)

≈✨️Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk✨️≈

[minjoonapio]

🎐 Wind Breaker Chapter 156: Overheat

💭 THOUGHTS & ANALYSIS [⚠️ SPOILERS ⚠️]

🧵Twitter/X Version 📖Where to read: Kodansha | Other 📺Watch Season 1 now (S2 in 2025!): Crunchyroll, Netflix

This was more than I ever imagined. At first, I thought we would have Umemiya & Chika laughing & enjoying the fight like Togame & Sakura in the Shishitoren arc, but I think that won’t be a good approach.

Having that idea happen would give out the kind of relationship or bond that Umemiya and Chika has. With what Nii sensei wrote, yes, i should focus more on Umemiya's point of view and build back up his resolve. Nii sensei has written for us a good chapter.

Finally getting Ume’s pov! This is kind of a parallel to what happened with Togame & Choji, where Togame realizes he should’ve fought or argued with the Shishitoren leader, his best friend; have a conversation.

From these current pages, I don't think Umemiya had a proper conversation with Chika.

Umemiya is glad that Chika is looking at him with what looks like excitement, and heightened interest. Perhaps Ume feels assured that Chika doesn’t see him in a bad light and that he has a chance to connect with him, even though they disagree on ideals.

Ok there's quite a lot to unpack about this part of Umemiya’s internal monologue.

Ume admitted he was blinded by his rage towards Chika for involving the town when all they wanted was him. But it’s not until his head finally cleared up, that he realized how it’s all his fault.

Umemiya has been treating Chika as an enemy. That he ruined their peace. When in fact, in the beginning, he wanted Chika to be part of that peace. Ume just didn't understand why he didn't want to. He never tried. He just let Chika be when he left Furin.

Now, we understand why Endo talks about Umemiya that way. That he was selfish.

Ume has been shoving his ideals on them. Whenever they fought, it’s always “If I win, you JOIN me” or “If I win, acknowledge MY GOALS”. Umemiya was trying to FORCE Chika to give in to his wants, without acknowledging Chika’s feelings or fully understanding him.

When Umemiya says these lines (refer to panels above), it’s not to end the fight with Chika. It’s to put an end to the whole thing. And that is by getting to FINALLY understand each other. Umemiya knew he should’ve done this before and this mess wouldn’t have happened.

I wonder how their conversation will turn out. Will they truly see eye to eye? Or perhaps find a bit of common ground? Whatever will happen, we will at least get to know more of Chika Takiishi.

Things get spicy when Chika starts throwing not just one but TWO tables! Umemiya hit all of them but Chika used that to hide himself in order to get close and land a horrible punch to the gut.

Now we got a chair AND A TABLE thrown off the roof!

I unfortunately have experienced a hit to the gut (not through a fist fight btw). Rather than feeling nauseous, you truly have the wind knocked out of you and depending how hard you're hit, you'll be bordering between being conscious and unconscious.

And Umemiya has been receiving more blows on the stomach in this chapter. Now wonder he looks like he's about to pass out at the end😬

I know it’s a typical shounen thing but still, Ume saying this line is not beating the Gojo-alike allegations (other than having the same Japanese VA)

“My kouhai/student is watching” I actually like this culture of taking care & guiding your juniors. They want what's best for them. I don't often see that here in my country where the older or seniors try their best to be a good example to their juniors.

The way I kicked and screamed when it FINALLY RAINED!! I KNEW IT! Thank you, Nii sensei (although i expected it in the middle of the fight and not near the end of it haha. Maybe saved for a more dramatic flare later👀)

Ume is proud of Sakura! 😭 Like I said in the previous chapter, without our Main Character Sakura there, Ume wouldn't have snapped out of it. All the more, Sakura has given him strength and motivation to win this fight. The fact that he's in this rooftop with him, and sitting beside his opponent, a "Furin legend", Umemiya just knew Sakura did an impossible feat.

Sakura has sealed it for Ume that he is worthy of taking his place as the top, the future leader. He's all the more happy!

For a while, I forgot Endo was known to be a legend. But after we got to know him these past chapters, he’s become more of a silly psycho in love to me. 😆

Chika having that moment like Endo had with Sakura. He saw something in Umemiya’s face and backed out. What could it be? Something similar to Endo? Or is it he can finally see Umemiya clearly now? (If it's true that he has face blindness)

The moment Chika froze and Umemiya clutched his wrist & called his name, it’s over.

Jeez! A freakin' sucker punch to Chika’s pretty face. Do you think Chika is knocked out? Or just disoriented? With how this was a closing to a mini arc of Umemiya, I assume they will finally have that talk. I don't think there's anything more to be said in their fight.

This has been a satisfying chapter. Again, it's more that I ever imagined it to be. The high we feel absorbing Umemiya’s perspective & resolve and through their fists. What a way to wrap it up!

Thanks for reading! 💚🎐 Break next week! Next chapter will be up on Oct 8, Tuesday!

🧵Twitter/X Version 📖Where to read: Kodansha | Other 📺Watch Season 1 now (S2 in 2025!): Crunchyroll, Netflix

[sunnyshinesunshine]

Okay so I’ve finally solidified my opinion on The Rings of Power and given that it is my opinion it is therefore very important and I’m sure everyone is dying to hear it (this is sarcasm)

I’ll start by saying I’m not a critical person when it comes to things. I consume media to enjoy myself, not to pick apart its literary or thematic flaws. It’s fine if you do, but that’s just not me.

I will also say I’ve never read the Fall of Númenor as its own story, so any Tolkien primary sources I’m vaguely alluding to (this isn’t a research paper been there done that got the high school diploma I bake cookies for a living I ain’t citing shit thanks <3) are the Silmarillion, LoTR, and The Hobbit.

I didn’t like TROP for the first season, but after catching up on S2, I’ve come to enjoy it.

S1 is the full of world building, setting up the political stage and the relationships between the characters that lead to the creation of the rings and all the other bad hullabaloo that ends in the Last Alliance.

Safe to say, I spent the whole time going ‘what? why is he/she/them saying/believing/acting like this? why is it/this portrayed like this???’ and felt very irked by the whole thing.

S2, the rings are being created, familiar events start happening, the puzzle pieces from S1 that were so unfamiliar and bothersome to me then come together to create a picture that I knew.

Once I got to thinking I realized I actually know a whole lot less about the fall of numenor and the creation of the rings than I thought I did.

When Tolkien writes about those events, he gives the broad strokes in a very history-book way. Celebrimbor creates the rings because he is deceived by Sauron. Tar-Míriel is overthrown by Ar-Pharazôn and marries him against his will. Elrond is with Gil-Galad as his herald.

These are the things, amongst others, that we know. Unlike in the Hobbit or LoTR, we aren’t given any glimpses into the heads or relationships of the characters in anything other than what amounts to almost a timeline of events.

This, of course, leaves a lot of room for Tolkien fans to ask questions. Questions that can be answered through imagination. Imagination becomes ideas, ideas become discussions, discussions become a collective understanding of what happened (fanon*. I’m talking fanon. please read the note at the end because I think fanon is awesome and deserves to be defended)

For example. We know Celebrimbor and Narvi built the Doors of Durin together and added possibly the most ridiculous riddle password possible.

When the Doors are first introduced in LoTR, it is also in the middle of Gimli and Legolas’ semi feuding, and before both of them have some serious moments regarding their histories and cultures (Khazad-Dûm and Lothlórien respectively).

All of this to conclude that at some point between Gigolas’s inter-species feuding and the password to the damn doors being ‘mellon’, as Tolkien fans, we came to the conclusion that Celebrimbor and Narvi were close friends.

Celebrimbor and Narvi are not really much more than acquaintances in TROP. And that isn’t inaccurate. The source material doesn’t have an opinion on it really.

Fanon says Celebrimbor and Narvi were pals. TROP says they weren’t. Canon doesn’t care either way.

I mention this example to explain why TROP felt so wrong especially at the beginning. Essentially we, or at least I, had this idea of how things should be, and when TROP diverged from that I felt lost and annoyed.

Now, I find watching TROP to be honestly kind of fascinating, like watching someone else painting using a model and comparing it to the painting I had already created of that same model.

It’s kind of fun. And every Elrond deserves all of us cheering him on.

*about Fanon:

I love fanon it’s awesome and great and it’s fucking collective story telling in a way that hasn’t really existed in modern times. Thousands of people from all over the world create and agree and discuss and add on to stories. The marauders fandom is almost completely fanon and that’s wonderful. Every single one of you who share your ideas about characters or settings or clothes or even (especially) who create the elleths who exist in the Silmarillion but don’t at the same time, you are awesome.

You’ve created a story and world together. Without being paid. You’ve agreed and created simply for the love of creation. And that’s so amazing.

Fanon is awesome and I don’t care for anyone who calls it cringe.

[thesamestarlight]

today was SUCH a good day even though i didn't do the thing i wanted to get done and i know it was because i CREATED!! i meant to just jot down an idea in a google doc but that accidentally turned into like four HOURS and almost 3000 words and i??? feel so good?? i've been lamenting a lot lately that i have all these fragments floating around in my head but i haven't been able to actually Make anything with them and then today i finally did in a way that i completely didn't anticipate and that came out of nowhere and it felt GREAT. and then i sang in the car and saw the sunlight in the trees and watching a funny show and lived laughed love the spirit of small joys saturday!! i love you guys!!!

[thelaughingmerman]

I swear Im actually going to write tonight

[my-current-obsession]

I see a lot of people saying that the royals (mostly Alfred, but I’ve seen a fair bit of complaining about all the others too) are statistically bad in Engage. I have to wonder, what difficulty is this based off of? On my Hard playthrough most of the royals were my best units, and Alfred in particular was amazing. Ivy and Celine were probably the weakest two - Ivy due to being a bit slow and having AWFUL dex and luck, and Celine just lacking power due to splitting her attention between strength and magic.

Is it just Maddening that they’re specifically bad for? I have not (and will not) played that mode in any FE but my impression is very much that Maddening mode is a different experience and you’re basically forced to play a certain way to win. That’s probably even more true here since fixed growths are in play, so you can’t count on RNG to give you good units. You have to find the ones that the game wants you to use, and stick with them.

For me, one of the biggest joys of FE has always been the RNG of it all - I love the random growths meaning different characters shine (and suck) each run, which encourages you to give different units a try. I love that, at least on Normal and Hard, you have enough breathing room to basically play how you want - favor the units of your choice, reclass whoever into whichever classes you fancy, etc - and doing so MIGHT make your life harder but probably won’t doom your entire run. The versatility and random nature of your units growths makes strategy & combat in this game infinitely more appealing and adds to its replayability.

Like I LOVE Persona games and Stella Glow (which gameplay wise is fairly similar to FE) but in those games the characters are what they are, and the stats on level-up are set in stone. Once you’ve done ONE run and know what works, Complacent Gaming kicks in and you repeat the exact same steps in future runs. In FE even if you use the same characters in the same classes, their performance WILL vary based on how blessed or cursed the RNG has been for them.

If Maddening IS as difficult and particular as I’m assuming, and basically every unit’s viability is determined from the moment you get them and you HAVE to play a specific way to win... is it really right to judge units based on that specific difficulty? Like, sure, so-and-so SUCKS on Maddening, but so does EVERYONE except this specific handful of units and if you use anyone else you’re just hurting yourself.

I feel like we should be judging characters based off a difficulty where everyone is at least VIABLE from the beginning, but judging how likely they are to REMAIN that way based on their growths/classes/personal skills/etc.

To put it another way, what would a tier list of a Maddening run look like? My impression is that it has two, maybe 3 categories of who you can actually use, who gets benched immediately, and MAYBE a middle category of who exists to fill a spot on the team and take a few hits/deal a smidge of damage for just a little while until someone better comes along to replace them. Meanwhile on Normal and Hard you can have a full spectrum of who on average is statistically the best through the worst, with everything in between. And considering several “unusable” units on Maddening are at least GOOD or even better on a normal or hard run, can you really call them bad? At the very least CLARIFY you mean they’re bad on Maddening specifically instead of in general.

[ygodmyy20]

Me: you should finish your current fanfic chapter so you can get to editing it and post it!

Also me........but what about that super intense angsty part that happens later, what if...what if we write that right now instead?

[merriclo]

the way i check to see if i’m doing ok mentally is if i have thought about kiss him not me recently. if i have i need to go back to therapy.

[vinyls-and-valentines]

Man, I have such a clear image of like. The map of where one of my stories takes place, but if i even tried to put it to paper I'd fuck it up so badly

[fluffypotatey]

omfg

so i found an old sketchbook of mine (bc all my middle school friends were drawing and I wanted to join) and dam the nostalgia

[nereidprinc3ss]

fixation

in which you love spencer reid's hands so much you could... well, you could practically eat them. or at least let him put his fingers in your mouth.

18+ (fluff, suggestive) warnings/tags: finger sucking...lol....., established relationship, ummmm d/s adjacent dynamics, like softdom spencer but there's no sex, pet names, teasing a/n: this was inspired by @gublersg1rl who said 2 nights ago she would suck spencer's fingers as he was reading a book. my beautiful angel with so many great ideas in her beautiful head. anyway this will not be my magnum opus in terms of quality but its just a fun short little thing I hope u like :D

Spencer is reading. 

He got home forty five minutes ago, and he’d hugged you and he’d kissed you—and they were good hugs and kisses, but as you sit curled on the opposite end of the couch from him, watching him read, it doesn’t feel like enough. Three days isn’t the longest he’s been gone, but you missed him like he was gone longer. And now, he’s not truly ignoring you—but he’s not giving you enough attention. It’s unintentional, but it’s making you feel all kinds of needy and overly-affectionate anyway. 

Especially when he’s so gorgeous. Ankle crossed over knee, lithe fingers skimming over the page to keep track of his place. Those hands are truly distracting. It’s unlike you to be struck by such wildly inappropriate thoughts so out of context, but here you are, having been without him for days, practically feverish on the couch as you imagine all the things they could do. All the things they have done. The way they've traced down your bare spine, up your side, so lovingly in the middle of the night... how they've touched you elsewhere...

And... that's enough.

Despite the whole committed relationship thing, you still feel a bit scandalized picturing him like that. And you know from experience these thoughts will only get worse if you stay over here, staring at him, wanting him, so you crawl across the couch and under his arm, settling your head in his lap and looking up at him expectantly. He chuckles—a quiet, dry thing, that says he’s only partially surprised by your behavior. 

“Well hello,” Spencer says, taking one hand off the book to settle on your leg. 

“Hi.”

For a moment he just studies you, affection seeping into his eyes along with the humor already there. “Can I help you?”

“Mhm.”

His brow darts up. 

“With what, baby?”

Baby. Your whole body tingles. He only calls you that when he’s feeling especially soft toward you and your whims. In turn you soften, and you both become rather mushy. 

Unfortunately your brain is not excluded from melting, and you look up at him helplessly. 

“Um…”

Spencer’s hand falls from your knee, taking an unnecessary but appreciated route down your thigh and up your stomach before settling on your cheek. He brushes away a few baby hairs before two knuckles begin drawing soft lines from the corner of your mouth up toward your ear and back again, and your stomach becomes a hail of butterflies. He’s got this soft smile on his face and you love him so much and he’s so sweet and perfect, you could just—

You’re not thinking very clearly when you tilt your head, angling your chin up until you catch his fingers against your lips. His eyes remain on yours as he traces the shape of your mouth with those same two knuckles—until you’re slowly parting, obstructing his path and offering a very different kind of invitation. Spencer’s eyes narrow fractionally and you watch the way his focus changes, the way he only tests the waters at first, letting the tips of his fingers trace the length of your bottom lip, before barely tugging down just enough to feel the soft warmth of the border of it. They skate over the ridge of your teeth and find the tip of your tongue, at which point you can’t help from closing your lips around his fingers, eyes fluttering contentedly as you draw them deeper into your mouth. His brows draw together, and those pretty pink lips part soundlessly like you’re the eighth wonder of the world in a way that has your thighs clenching. You hear the book shut and fall carelessly to the side table. He doesn’t even bother saving his place—too busy bringing that newly freed hand to your hair and combing gently against your scalp. 

It’s strangely calming to have him like this—he’s undeniably with you, undeniably close, against your lips and tongue. All your worries about his distance dissolve and you feel incredibly comforted. With his other hand, his thumb begins stroking a line from the bridge of your nose up your forehead, and you could pass out. 

“Comfy?” He asks after a long moment, slowly withdrawing his fingers from the heat of your mouth. You pout. 

“I was.”

Spencer hums, eyes soft on you. “I don’t think I should be nurturing your oral fixation, angel.”

“You didn’t like it?” You challenge, turning your head inward to nose at his stomach. He  cups your cheek with damp fingers and pointedly turns your head outward again. If he wasn’t so blushy and flustered and cute you might’ve cared more about the feeling of your own spit on your skin. 

“Don’t make it about me.”

You allow a minute to pass in silence. 

Fine.

“I liked it,” you say shyly. 

Spencer’s response is deeply fond as he smiles down at you. “Did you?”

Like he couldn’t tell. 

“Mhm. You should let me do it all the time.”

His smile flickers wider the way it does when he’s about to tease you. 

“I don’t know if you deserve it. I don’t know if you can be good all the time.”

You make a face. “Shut up.”

“Is that what we say when we want something?” Before he can pull his hand away, you nip at his fingers. He laughs. “You’re off to a terrible start. I think you need to work on your manners. Not bite the hand that… goes in your mouth.”

“Is that the saying?”

“I’m pretty sure,” he nods sarcastically, helping you up until you’re sitting across his lap. He lovingly tucks hair behind your ear, eyes warm as they flit across your face up close. “You know, that was incredibly unhygienic. So much bacteria it boggles the mind.”

“Yeah? That kinda turns me on.”

Spencer leans in to kiss you sweetly, choosing your mouth over his worry about bacterial transmission. “You are so psychologically concerning,” he whispers against your lips. You sling your arms around his neck. 

“Because of the bacteria thing or the oral fixation thing?”

His hands settle on your hips. “Both, lovely. For so many reasons.”

It’s only another tease, but you pull back anyway so he can see the full force of your pout. “Don’t say that. It’s mean.”

“I was kidding! It was a joke. I was joking.”

“It was mean.”

“Okay,” Spencer begins, patient and happy to untangle this ridiculous snag if that’s what it takes to make you content again, “Freud’s psychosexual stages of development are contentious at best. I’m not worried about your oral fixation because I don’t really believe in such a thing. I was just teasing you, but I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

“So you’ll let me do it again?”

Spencer pulls you back into another kiss. 

“You’re kind of insatiable, you know that?” 

When you don’t answer, only wait for him to respond, he sighs goodnaturedly. 

“You know you can have any part of me whenever you want it.”

You give him a winning smile and kiss his cheek in reward. 

“You’re so nice, Spence.”

“I thought I was mean.” 

“Now you’re nice.”

“Because you got what you wanted?” You nod enthusiastically. He seems not quite as thrilled, though perhaps distantly amused by his own helplessness when it comes to you. “Yeah, I feel like that happens a lot, doesn’t it?”

But it clearly doesn’t bother him that much. He’s still smiling when you kiss him again. 

[thef1diary]

Podium Princess | LN + CS + CL

Summary: Lando lost a bet, which would have just temporarily damaged his ego, but the problem was that you were the prize that Charles and Carlos desired for one night.

masterlist taglist form

© thef1diary 2024. do not repost without permission

Warnings: 18+, mmmf, unprotected sex, three men for three holes 🤭, fingering, oral, anal, dp?, filthy as fuck, derogatory terms (kinda), praise, overstimulation, riding.

pairing: lando x fem!reader x carlos x charles

wc: 3.1k

Request: You should totally write a smut about lando sharing his girlfriend with Carlos and Charles after placing in the #australiangp

"You did what?" You asked your boyfriend, wondering if you misheard his words. "I made a bet," Lando responded, but this time with more assurance.

You sat down on the bed in your shared hotel room and asked, "what is it?" Patting the spot next to you, silently indicating Lando to sit down and begin explaining the bet. You've known from the years you've been dating that whenever he places a wager, he eventually loses, but you chose against mentioning it.

He hesitated for a moment but then decided to explain how he ended up in that situation.

The evening began when Lando noticed Carlos and Charles speaking after the qualifying session. He observed they had been spending a lot of time together recently, so Lando obviously had to approach them and disrupt their latest gossip session.

Putting the trio together, one would discover that they never run out of topics to discuss, which is how they found themselves sitting in a car in the parking lot outside their hotel. Carlos suggested that since they were all staying at the same hotel for the weekend, they might as well leave the track together.

However, during the car ride, there was a discussion that quickly brought out the competitive nature that each driver had developed at a young age. "What, you guys don't think I'll win?" Lando asked the Ferrari drivers, slightly offended. This particular topic of conversation started once they discussed the possible winners for the race tomorrow.

Based on the three practice sessions and qualifying, it could be argued that while they all had a fairly nice weekend so far, some were still more fortunate than others. As a result, the Spaniard shook his head, disagreeing with his friend, "mate, I'm starting second tomorrow, which clearly means I have a better chance of winning."

"I was first in fp1," Lando retaliated although they all knew that qualifying in a higher position meant more than topping a single practice session.

"You might have a good chance, but Max is on pole, let's not forget that," Charles reminded his fellow colleagues. Lando perked up at his words, "exactly, so all Carlos needs to do is somehow crash him out of the race so I can win."

Charles laughed at the outrageous plan, but Carlos scoffed, "I won't ruin my chances at a podium for a race you won't win." Noticing Lando's defeated expression, it caused Charles to laugh harder. "Not that I think either of you would win, but let's make a bet," the Monégasque suggested.

"Who do you think will win?" Carlos asked. Charles' dimple deepened as he smiled, "me of course."

This time Lando scoffed, "yeah, sure mate," then he looked at Carlos, "what do I get when I win the bet?"

"This," Carlos stated while holding up his middle finger towards him. Rolling his eyes, he decided, "fine, I'll ask for something when I win, and then you two won't be able to deny it."

"And what do we get if you don't win?" Carlos asked, looking at Charles who was waiting for an answer from Lando.

While Lando was focused on what he would ask for if he won the bet, he failed to consider that Carlos or Charles were more likely to win than him. He would have a one-in-three chance of winning the wager, but Lando hadn't realized the extent of the situation just yet.

"Not that it'll happen but what do you guys want?" He asked only as a formality to actually set the bet.

Carlos was quiet for a moment as he thought of something that would be worthwhile, looking at Charles to see if he had any ideas. Then he thought of it—of you. "Your girlfriend," he simply stated.

It took two seconds for Lando to start laughing, not that it was ever a challenge to do so, but he initially assumed that Carlos was joking. His laughter quickly died down once he didn't hear either driver laugh along with him.

Looking in the backseat at Charles briefly, who nodded in agreement, Lando snapped his head towards Carlos, "what do you mean my girlfriend?"

"It's simple. If Charles or I win, then you have to share your girlfriend for a night, if not, then you don't," he explained nonchalantly.

Lando looked at Charles, "and you agree with him?" He shrugged, then nodded, "she's hot, I wouldn't say no."

He slumped back in his seat, "I suppose you'll be disappointed when I win." While Lando was secure in his abilities, both drivers around him thought he was growing overconfident. "So you agree, that if you don't win, we can have her?"

Nodding it off and waving his hand around, Lando agreed, "yeah, you can."

You were stunned into silence once he finished explaining. Noticing your lack of words, Lando was unsure of your thoughts. "You don't think I'll win?"

You shrugged, "all I'm gonna say is that you have twenty-one other chances to win this season if you don't win this race." You didn't exactly answer his question, but he realized that you weren't opposed or disgusted by the idea either. Pulling you into his lap, he tilted your chin upwards with his fingers and leaned closer for a kiss.

He tightened his grasp on your chin to stop you before you could press your lips against his. "Oh I see, you don't want me to win just so you can be passed around like a slut between my friends?"

"You wouldn't have put me as the prize if you didn't like the idea," you retaliated, smirking as you moved his hand away to finally place your lips on his.

—

You stood among the crowd, cheering for Lando, who took his place on the third step of the podium. As the podium celebrations began, a part of you was also looking forward to the celebrations that would follow later tonight. Lando may have lost a bet, but it was the first bet you were glad he lost.

That is how you ended up in your hotel room with your lover, waiting in anticipation for the other two drivers to arrive. With his trophy set aside, you and Lando were occupied with each other; your eyes closed and head tilted back as he trailed kisses down your throat.

Then came a knock on the door, one that made your heart race in all the best ways. Lando stood up and opened the door, revealing Charles and Carlos standing on the other side, still dressed in their Ferrari polos from earlier that evening.

"What did he say? I suppose you'll be disappointed when I win," Charles greeted by mocking Lando's words from the day before. "Alright, alright I get it but I still placed third," he retaliated which earned a nod from Carlos. "Congrats, cabrón."

You could hear them laughing among themselves, but it quickly died down once Carlos and Charles spotted you. Lando had suggested that you should wear red, considering both of the drivers that placed first and second adored red.

There you sat on the mattress, leaning back on your forearms with an ankle crossed over the other, clad in only a tight short red dress which you were glad you ended up packing.

"Well, fuck me," Charles muttered under his breath earning a chuckle from you once you heard his comment. Standing up and slowly stepping towards them, you replied, "fuck me indeed."

Your gaze was fixated on Carlos, the race winner, whose eyes revealed a glimpse of all the dirty thoughts racing through his mind. "Congratulations, you both deserve a good celebration," you said, smiling as you felt Carlos' arm snaking around your waist and Charles' breath fanning your face.

"Is that what you're going to give us? A good celebration?" Charles asked, his lips grazing your cheek. "I'll give you anything you want."

You looked at your boyfriend for a second, making sure he was still comfortable with the situation before proceeding any further. But you just saw desire in his eyes and while the corner of his lip curled up in a lazy smirk, a nod from him allowed you to carry on. He may have nodded at you, but his eyes darted over your head to his fellow drivers, "Go on then, Carlos, Charles, claim your prize."

Your lips parted slightly, marvelling at the fact that Lando hadn't even addressed you, instead treating you like an object to be claimed. The worst part was realizing that you liked it since his remarks had made you clench your thighs together.

Carlos grinned at your obedient behaviour as he was easily able to tip your head back to face him. Now that they truly had the freedom to do anything they wanted to you, with your permission, neither felt bad for having sinful thoughts about you—their best friend's girlfriend—while Carlos and Charles were alone in their bedrooms.

Kissing you with a sense of urgency, Carlos stole your breath away in a matter of seconds. Your thoughts had quickly dissipated into thin air as you felt Charles trailing his fingers up your body while pressing up behind you.

You heard Lando shuffle around before leaving the three of you alone in the bedroom for a moment which only intensified your feelings. Sandwiched between the two men who are good friends of yours, were now looking at you as if you are merely an outlet for their sexual desires.

Sliding down the straps that held your dress up, Charles continued kissing every inch of your bare skin revealed to him. His hands rounded to your front, pulling down the flimsy piece of fabric to display your tits to the duo. Your nipples instantly pebbled as Charles' fingers brushed against them, making you tilt your head back and resting it against his shoulder.

Letting you regain your breath, Carlos moved down to your neck, replacing each kiss Lando had placed earlier with small nips and grazes of his teeth, just painful enough to still be pleasurable.

While both their mouths were occupied, the Spaniard's hands pushed down the rest of your dress to the floor, parting away for a moment to let you to step out of it and toss it to the side with your feet.

Lando returned to the room, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth to prevent a moan from leaving his mouth. You were now completely bare, with two fully clothed drivers—his friends—pressed against you while their hands roamed all over your body.

Discarding his shirt on the floor, he occupied your mouth with another kiss, muffling your moans. "Fuck, enjoying yourself, baby?" Lando muttered once you parted away for a moment. Nodding, you opened your mouth to respond but a sharp gasp left your mouth as you felt Charles' fingers teasing your clit while Carlos palmed your ass.

"Merde, she's so perfect," the Monégasque commented, spreading your pussy with two fingers while a third finger swiped through your folds to catch the wetness that gathered between. "Charles," you breathlessly whispered, a plead for more.

"So ready to be ruined," Carlos added, his own fingers prodding your ass, earning a string of curses along with pleas to keep going from you. Gathering your slick from your cunt, Carlos coated his fingers to ease just the tip of one finger into your ass.

Soon enough, you were laid down on the bed, and one by one the three men stripped their clothes away, adding to the ever growing pile that started from your dress. You could barely keep your eyes open due to the feeling of three pairs of hands roaming everywhere, not leaving any inch of your skin untouched.

You had already orgasmed twice, but you couldn't remember whose fingers brought you over the edge the first, or even the second time, as all of the sensations mushed together in what felt like one never ending wet dream.

Staying true to your words of giving them anything they desired, you moaned around Carlos' cock as Charles slid his dick in your pussy without any forewarning. Your grasp on his thighs tightened as Charles began to thrust, slowly at first but then showed no mercy once his grasp on your hips tightened.

Carlos pulled your mouth off his cock, but quickly replaced the emptiness you immediately felt with two of his fingers resting heavily on your tongue. His actions didn't allow you to close your jaw, causing you to drool down your chin, and only then he was satisfied.

"Such a good fucking girl," he commented, which only made your head spin further while you smiled at the compliment. "Oh she likes that," Charles added as he felt your pussy clench around him at Carlos' praise.

His fingers that were now coated with your saliva trailed down your body to where you and Charles were connected. He nodded mockingly at his teammate's comment, "yeah, you like being praised?"

Easily finding your swollen clit, he slightly pinched it before creating small circles, edging you closer. You nodded, "please, please, please." You were sobbing for relief, your voice strained from the constant cries that left your lips with each new wave of ecstasy.

Connecting their gaze, Charles and Carlos smirked as they silently agreed to let you cum once again. Charles's fingers slid closer to your back hole, this time able to slide two fingers down to the last knuckle. At the same time, Carlos' fingers left your clit only to join the thrusts of Charles' cock, scissoring two of his fingers in your pussy to stretch you out even further. Pleasure surged through your body, and you closed your eyes tightly at the sudden sensation of being so full.

Charles slowed down his thrusts, prolonging your post orgasmic sensation. You slumped forwards when he pulled out, still holding back his own release for now.

Despite still being eager, they were ever patient with you especially after bringing you over the edge multiple times now, knowing your limbs were close to tiring out.

Still on your hands and knees, you shuffled up to straddle Carlos, sinking down on down cock this time, mouth dropping open as he stretched you out slightly differently compared to Charles.

"C'mon, cariño, ride me," he instructed, resting his hands on your hips, urging your movements while also allowing you to depend on him for help. "You feel so good, Carlos," you panted.

You heard some shuffling around you again but you couldn't move your gaze away from watching your pussy engulf Carlos' cock over and over again.

However, you were startled once you felt a cool sensation prodding your ass; Charles' fingers coated in lube. "Need you to relax, baby," you could hear Lando's words and he was quick to come into your view, stroking his dick to the sight of you filled by his former teammate.

He grabbed your hand off of Carlos' shoulder, guiding it towards his cock. Already slick with his precum, you could easily move your hand up and down, watching his reaction with hooded eyes.

Charles' free hand wrapped around your throat from behind while he whispered in your ear, "we're gonna fill up all of your holes, darling."

Groaning, you nodded, "please," a word that you had repeatedly spoken to the point where it sounded like a broken record. "You want that?" One of them asked, but you couldn't focus on whose voice it was. "Fill me up, please," your words turning into a moan as Carlos shifted underneath you, reaching deeper inside.

Releasing the grasp on your throat, Charles focused on opening you up with his fingers, for you to be able to take his cock in your ass while Carlos continued pounding your pussy.

Lando replaced Charles' hand, grabbing the back of your neck, threading his fingers in your hair to bring you close for a filthy kiss. Tongues and teeth clashing, he slightly bit down on your bottom lip, sucking and pulling on it for a moment before letting go.

Without any words exchanged, your boyfriend guided your mouth towards his cock, filling up two out of three of your holes. It took you a moment before you actually started moving your head up and down, moaning and drooling on his cock because of Carlos' upward thrusts.

Charles removed his fingers, having deemed to have stretched you out enough then coating his dick with a good amount of lube. With one hand palming and spreading your ass, he used the other to guide his cock into you. Your eyes welled up with tears, not entirely painful but almost overwhelmed with being filled everywhere at once.

Your body was quickly calmed down by Lando, Charles, and Carlos as they moved their hands all over you in soothing motions. Charles began thrusting when you nodded because you were unable to speak while Lando's dick was in your mouth.

Your muffled groans sounded distant to you, mind foggy, but you had never felt so full and aware before.

With a warning, Lando filled your mouth with cum, which you swallowed greedily without hesitation. Now, with your mouth unoccupied, you couldn't hold back on your moans. "Gonna cum," you warned, knowing you won't last long, still sensitive from your previous orgasms.

Charles' fingers reached your chest, teasing and pinching your nipples while Carlos rested his palms on your cheeks, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

Your pace stuttered as you came around his cock, and Carlos took the reins and thrusted upwards, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. "Fuck, where do you want us?" Charles asked, tethering on the edge and based on Carlos' stuttering pace, you knew he was too.

Your next words pushed both over the edge, "inside." Slumping forwards, you felt both Ferrari drivers filling you up with their cum. "Fucking hell, that was hot," Lando commented, leaning closer to brush away the strands of hair stuck on your forehead due to sweat.

Charles and Carlos carefully eased you off their cocks, with Lando helping you lie down on the bed which you immediately melted into.

It was unbearable for you to be completely empty after being entirely filled. Mustering up all your strength, you held your arms out for your boyfriend, who immediately joined you on the bed, whispering praises in your ear.

Meanwhile, Carlos and Charles decided to clean you up by wiping the cum that had leaked out of your holes with a damp towel. They saw the bruises from their grasps on you in the heat of the moment and couldn't help but smile, knowing they were the cause of it.

You hoped, as you drifted off to sleep, that the three of them would share the podium more frequently, and therefore, share you as well.

Taglist based on the form (let me know if you would like to be removed) @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @evlkking @jointhehunt67 @wonnou @nikfigueiredo