#and then i started to think on how actually badly this would go

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 — 𝐂.𝐒.

Synopsis: Nick has been your best friend for so long, but you can’t seem to get a long with his brother—Chris. You try to mess with Chris and it backfires….badly….

Warnings: illegal street racing, stupid driving, tension, smut with so much plot it hurts, street racer Chris, BIG MASSIVE SHLONG CHRIS, size kink, bulge kink, dick-wad Chris, p n v, raw sex, riding (wink), and more....

A/N: THIS IS OVER 5.2K WORDS. THIS IS NAWT A QUICK READ. Now, get in the car bitches, we're getting HORNYYYYYY!!!!

With love and bigs tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey, cute jeans!” I wave, my lips curling into a grin as I squint my eyes at him—Chris. He rolls his tongue, shaking his head as he stalks off further down the street. Ha. 

It’s one of those rare occurrences—I’m here—at his street race, for god knows what reason. 

All I ever do is mock him. In fact, that’s why I call him cute jeans. The first time Nick and I had shown up at one of these dumb things, Chris thought I was a stranger from behind—and my jeans? Damn. 

He had to be a real asshole and hit on me. 

That night was fun for more than one reason. It sparked something—something I didn’t know existed. 

After that, my teasing only got worse. Chris’s ego couldn’t handle staying silent, he always had something smart to say. 

“Come to watch me again, huh? Gonna record it for later, I bet,” Chris winks. My mouth snaps shut as I go to say something back. He’s already gone—not giving me a second to respond before shutting the door to his car and speeding down the road. 

Typical. 

It’s still bright out. The sun sinks lower into the horizon as more people crowd the deserted street by the minute. 

“Okay, let’s just take a couple more pics and then we’ll go. I know you hate this,” Nick huffs, adjusting the leather jacket he’s wearing—the same coat that inspired this whole photoshoot. But you couldn’t blame him, he did look hot as fuck. 

Even if his looks resemble a certain idiot lurking nearby. 

Part of me is burning with spite. I hate letting Chris have the last word. But my brain sparks with an idea, a brilliant idea. 

How much would it cost him if I stayed around? 

Those stupid bets were always placed in his favor. No one could deny he was good—really good. He drove on the street like he owned it and he never even seemed nervous. 

“I kinda wanna stay—” My words are interrupted as I feel an arm rest down on my shoulders. I look over to see Beck, a girl I love seeing. 

She’s vibrant—especially with her signature red lip that seemed to draw all eyes to her. I always blossom off her confidence, loving to sit next to her when she showed true female power all with one swing of that stupid flag in the air. 

“How are ya, girlie? Haven’t seen you in months,” she puffs, hugging me a little bit closer before dropping her arm back to her side. 

I smile over at her. “Pretty good, you still stomping on egos?” I question, the glint of mischief in her eyes reflecting back as she gives me a slow nod. 

“Oh, always. Especially Chris—and it’s just for you.” She boops my nose as her words drag through the wind, the sound of tires screeching starting to muffle the chaotic hum of the crowd forming. 

Nick stares down at the camera lens, scrolling through the pictures I had taken of him—the reason why we were here, pretty much. “Actually, I think we got enough. But are you sure you wanna stay? I can come back and get you later—”

Beck brushes on Nick’s shoulder. She scrunches her nose at me while licking over her teeth. “I got her, Nick. Go home and post those pics, I’ll return her to you safely after tonight, don’t worry.” 

“Alright…” Nick sighs, reluctantly hugging me and wandering back towards his car to head home. 

“So why’d you wanna stay? Finally like cars?” Beck interrogates. 

I shake my head vigorously, laughing as she smiles at me. “Fuck no, I just—”

“You’re gonna mess with him, aren’t you?”

Her question rings through the air as a speeding car flies by—racers already warming up.

My eyes trace towards the track, seeing a sleek red sports car in the distance doing donuts. Of fucking course. Chris was always doing some dumb shit—illegal street racing or doing fucking donuts while the other racers were repeatedly drifting around the corners or fixing up their cars. 

He’s so cocky. 

I whisper back to her as I watch his car tires mark the pavement. “Damn right.”

___

Chris is already fed up—I can tell by the way his jaw clicks and his nostrils flare when I catch him in the corner of my eye. 

And I’m looking directly at him, a stupid smile covering my face as I put my money on the bet table. It’s twenty bucks, but it was twenty bucks I was willing to spend, or rather waste. Chris hasn’t lost in a while—honestly I’m not sure if he ever has. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Chris huffs, pulling me by the arm as he drags me to the side of the road by his car. 

He roughly shoves me. The feeling of his car pressed up against my backside leaves my eyes twinkling with pride—I’m really getting to him. Just like I planned.

I shrug. “Just placing my bets. Isn’t that what everyone does at these—”

“Why are you here? Why’re you–,” as his eyes stare into mine, his rough tone falls silent, his scowl curling into a smirk as he analyzes the subtle twitch of my nose. “Huh—just comin’ to watch, right?” 

I nod to his question, my pride sinking to my feet as I try to stand up tall. Chris presses his body against mine, making my weight lean against the car once more. I swallow thickly as his hand drops from my arm. 

What is he doing?

“You know, I meant it, right?” he tuts, his eyes tracing your figure with no shame. “These jeans… baby, they look so good on you.” His voice gets deeper, his head falling forward as his lips graze my ear. “-bet they’d look better off though, hm?”  

Fuck. 

I wish it didn’t make something inside the pit of my gut burn—but it did. God, it really fucking did. My heart is hammering against my chest, the pulse in my neck pounding in my ears as slight butterflies in my stomach make it harder to breathe. 

Shoving my body quickly, I manage to escape his hold. “Shut up. You’re such a cocky prick,” I spit, my arms folding across my chest as I try to keep a stern expression. 

Chris lets out a dry laugh, grinning like he’s already won. He takes a couple steps forward, letting his hand travel into the ends of my hair, “And yet, you love it. I can practically hear how nervous I’m makin’ you, it’s a real ego boost,” he husks. 

“You don’t make me—” My lips fall open further, motionless as his hand moves to my neck, his cold fingers brushing against my pulse as my eyes go wide. 

“Not nervous, huh…” His head leans towards the side as he stares all over my face. His eyes linger on my lips as I try to look away. 

But it’s impossible. Chris swerves his head, not letting my eyes leave his as he just stares at me. 

“Chris, stop—”

“Why? Do I make you too nervous?” he urges, licking over his teeth and letting his hands drop down to his sides. 

I feel a wave of heat caress up my spine and over my shoulders. “Don’t you have some stupid race to lose?” 

The taunt seems humorous to him, the last resolve of my dignity peeking through mumbled words as he wipes over his mouth. 

“Alright, alright. Guess I’ll go try to lose, but—I might need your help.” He shrugs, walking off with a wink. 

Uh oh. 

Help?

___

I can’t tell what the fuck is going through his brain. Part of me regrets staying—but another part of me is sickly invested in whatever this twisted game is. 

Nearly all bets had been placed. Stacks of money rested on the plastic table with a heavy bais—most were betting on Chris. 

It had to be at least two grand. 

He wouldn’t give up two grand for some petty argument with me, right? No—that would be insane. Absolutely bonkers. 

…right?

I watch as Beck stands in the middle of the dark street, the only glow coming from the blue streetlights above. The sun had set quickly, the stars and moon doing nothing compared to the headlights from all the cars.

My legs hurt. I didn’t realize I had been clenching every muscle for the entirety of the countdown to the actual race. The cold bleachers sting against my skin in the night air—maybe I would’ve dressed warmer if I thought I was gonna stay. But no—I was stuck shivering in jeans, a purple lace bra peeking from under my black top, and a letterman jacket. 

The front row gave the best view, but I had no one to shield the bitter breeze. But it was worth it. This way I got to sit by Beck the entire time. 

“Racers ready?” she shouts, her voice prominent over the reviving engines as she holds the flag in the air. 

Chris is on the side closer to me, his boyish smile apparent as I stare at the side of his face. The other guy was one of the better ones—the bets had some sort of hope in him, a large stack of bills showing that he had a decent amount of skill. 

My mouth waters as I see Chris run a hand through his hair, his head turning and his eyes catching mine. Holy fuck. He looks absolutely dreamy—there’s not an ounce of anxiety, pure confidence radiating from him. 

And it makes it so hard to look away. 

“Wait, I got one more bet I gotta place,” Chris announces. 

What?

My brows furrow, my face scrunching as I watch Beck relax the flag back down to her side. “Make it quick.” 

Chris nods at her words, my stomach flutters as he stares directly back at me, leaning his head out his window while licking over his lips. “Wanna make a bet, sweetheart?” he asks. 

I look around me, my shoulder sinking slightly as I take in the amount of people staring at me. 

He’s holding up the race to embarass me. Fuck. 

As I stare back at him with squinted eyes, he clicks his tongue on the side of his mouth. “If I win, I get to take you for a drive. Deal?”

“What?” I exclaim, throwing my hand in the air as I motion to the bet table, “Why the hell would I agree to that—”

“You bet against me, remember?” he points. 

My lips smack shut, the lump in my throat gathering thicker as I try to swallow. “I’ll even give you the chance to make sure I lose a round. We gotta bet or not?” he questions, his eyes twinkling as the blue lights illuminate his sharp features.  

If he had to lose one of the three rounds, that put more hope into the other racer. And if the other race won, I’d be more than content. Getting to call him a loser would definitely irk him more than anything—especially if it was true.

I hear boos chant around me. “Hurry up and race!” someone says from behind me. 

My body stiffens as I hear the chorus of disapproval. “Deal!” I shout, biting on my inner cheek. 

Chris looks at me with a daunting grin, his hand squeezing on the wheel as he nods. “A’right—ready. Sorry for the hold up.” 

Beck rolls her eyes, holding up the flag once more. 

“Racers ready?” she glares at Chris, continuing on as he revs his engine in response, “3—2—-1, GO—”

My heart drops as I watch the smoke from the tires scratching the street float around Beck. She saunters over, settling beside me as I lean forward, my pulse pounding in my ears as I watch them race side-by-side. 

As the car rounds the corner and starts nearing the finish line, Chris’s car zooms just slightly in front of the other vehicle, only seconds of a difference. 

I can’t wait to call him a fuckin loser. 

Beck walks back out, the flag raising in the air as both cars position once again. “Alright, race two. Ready, set—” 

“Hey!” 

Stomping her heels on the pavement, Beck scowls at Chris as he shouts towards my direction. I look over, my face burning as I feel the crowd stare down at me. 

I didn’t know much about racing, but I knew enough. This wasn’t normal—this was the prime way to piss people off. 

As I go to ask what he wants, Chris curls his finger, motioning for me to come closer. 

The fuck? 

I hesitantly stand up, my arms wrapped tightly around my torso as I walk up to his car window. Chris stares up at me with devious eyes. He obnoxiously chews a piece of gum, his jaw bone protruding with each movement. 

“What the fuck do you want?!” I whisper-yell, catching angry eyes boring onto me as I take a quick glance over my shoulder. 

Oh, these people are mad—fucking furious, even. 

“Kiss me.” 

I do a double take, my eyes blinky slowly as I watch him lick over the bottom ridges of his teeth, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. 

“What?” I breathe out, a dry laugh heaving from my lips. 

He can’t be serious…

“However long you kiss me is however long I’ll wait to start drivin’. Didn’t you want me to lose? C’mon pretty girl, you saw the bet table—use your head, alright? It’s just a kiss,” he taunts.

This is how he was gonna give me the chance to make him lose a round—I should’ve known. 

I shake my head, cringing as I hear the boo’s from the crowd get louder. 

“I’m startin’,” Beck says, holding up the flag. “3—”

“Yes or no? It’s up to you,” he shrugs, his eyes drawing over my face as my lips smack open and shut. 

“2—”

The noise of his engine revving makes my anxiety settle. This is my chance—my only chance at that. 

“Fuck it,” I murmur, taking a long stride towards him. 

“1—GO!” 

I crash my lips onto his, my hands on either side of his jaw. His lips meet mine with a hard urgency, the rhythm of my movement panicked and rushed. 

My breath hitches in my chest—I don’t know if it’s because I forgot to breathe or if it’s from the feeling of his hand traveling up and tangling around the back of my neck, pulling me impossibly closer as he slips his warm tongue into my mouth. 

I nearly forget everything, gasping for air as I pull back quickly, moaning as I feel his mouth hungrily chase mine. 

Never in my life had I been kissed like this—so passionately and rough. 

“Hey! This gotta be breakin’ some rules–”

Fuck. 

The person yelling from the crow makes me pull back into reality. I stand up, watching as Chris slowly flutters his eyes open at me with a grin so cocky my hand twitches with the urge to slap him. 

Why did that feel so… good? 

Before anyone can say a thing, the other car slowly halts back to the starting line. 

Had we really been kissing that long? 

My fingers mindlessly float up to my tingling lips, my head feeling lighter as the surroundings start to spin a bit. It’s like he put some drug in his mouth that immediately became addicting. I want more. 

“See? I kept my word,” Chris points out, “Now—you gonna keep your word if I win? Lemme take you for a drive?” I swallow thickly, nodding slowly. “Good. Now go sit down and cheer for me real loud, alright?” 

I don’t have time to respond before Beck interrupts with the same question, starting to count down. I quickly stumble back towards the bleachers, a sigh of relief pushing through my lips as my head bobbles between my shoulders while I sit down. 

The loud cars barely register in my brain. All I can focus on is how light everything feels, how my lips are swollen and pulsing. 

“C’MON!!!” 

Chants behind me draw my attention back to the road. What the fuck? It’s not even close—Chris is speeding around the corners way smoother than the first round, almost as if he had been—

Oh fuck.

He was holding back. 

I tried to mess with him and he played me with ease. 

Part of me should be mad as he races near the finish line—but all I feel is excitement—anticipation. 

My teeth clench into my lower lip as I watch him storm past the line, not even waiting for the other racer to finish before stepping out of his car and walking over. 

Is he…?

My eyes bulge as he walks in front of me, holding his hand out as an offer. “C’mon, you promised, yeah?” he urges. 

I nod slowly, sliding my hand in his. He drags me to his car, opening the passenger door and shutting it after I climb in. 

“Chris! The money—”

Beck’s words fall on deaf ears as Chris slides into the driver seat, pressing his foot on the gas hard. 

“You didn’t even get the money—what’re we doing?” I ask, looking behind my shoulder to see a crowd of people turned to our direction as we speed off further down the road. 

“You know, it’s not nice to try and tick me off,” he huffs, quickly glancing at me with a harsh stare. 

Oh.

Oh.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ abou–”

Chris lets out a vocal sound of disbelief, cutting me off, “Yeah, you do. Fuckin—bettin’ against me, tryna get me to lose and shit. For what? Don’t have a boyfriend to give you any attention, huh?” he asks, his hand reaching over and grasping onto my thigh. 

He knows I don’t have a boyfriend—I know he’s aware of that fact. 

I stare down at his large hand squeezing my jean-clad leg. Something about his rough grip makes me shift in my seat, my thighs clutching together as I feel a wave of warmth settle into the pit of my stomach. 

“You like my hand on your thigh, don’t you?” he says, smirking wider as I watch the blue streetlights cast a subtle glow on his cheekbones. 

“I—”

“You like it. Admit it.” 

There’s no room to argue as he trails his hand up further, his fingers tracing dangerously high as he gives me a rough squeeze. Fuck his hands feel good on me. 

“Chris what’re you—”

“Do you know how it feels to constantly see you and know I can’t touch you?” he starts, the car rolling to a stop by the side of the road as he rushedly shifts gears to park, “-you’re always fuckin’ teasin’ me—bein’ a damn brat and I have to keep my hands to myself,” he grits, shaking his head as he stares down at me. 

I swallow thickly as I shift in the seat. “Chris, I–”

“No. None of that bullshit. You’re always tauntin’ me. Why’d you stay, hm? Why?” he questions, his tongue clicking on the roof of his mouth as his eyes deepen with intensity and dominance. 

Silence. I can’t fathom any words to say, my pulse drumming quicker as Chris pats his lap, adjusting his chair back. 

“Over here. Now.” 

“Chris, what are we doing?” I ask, hesitantly starting to climb over the center console. 

His hands wrap around the underside of my thighs, pulling me quickly while I let out a slight yelp as he sits me down in his lap. His hands are firm on either side of my hips. “I’m done playin’ these stupid fuckin’ games. I just—” 

The air is quiet. His eyes fall to my lips, his hands grasping just a little bit tighter around me. I can still feel the lingering sensation from his lips on mine earlier, the slight tingle still buzzing on the soft muscle as I let myself lean in closer. 

“We should stop,” Chris breathes, his tongue sliding between his lips as his eyes flicker up towards mine. 

“Why?” 

The question rolls off my lips with ease, my palms flattening against his chest as I lower my mouth to his neck, breathing over his pulse. 

“Because–” He lets out a hiss. I place my lips on his neck, sucking gently as I massage my hand over his shoulder. “Shit—we gotta stop, baby—this, this–” His jaw goes slack as I find his sweet spot. His hands dig into my hips, the slight bulge growing beneath me making my lips curl into a smile as I gently grind myself on top of him. 

“Why do you wanna stop, Chris?” I ask, nibbling the bottom of his ear, “What’s got you so tongue-tied, hm?” 

“You’re killin’ me,” he points, his gaze trained on me as he tangles his hand through my hair, pulling me back just enough to look at him, “-fuckin’ so annoying, so pretty and horrible, I just—I don’t know how much I can hold back–”

“Don’t,” I whisper, my hand gathering the material of his shirt in a fist as I watch him bite on his lower lip. His eyes trace over my face, one of his hands slowly tracing underneath my shirt, callusing beneath my bra. 

“Yeah? Don’t want me to hold back, hm?” he remarks, his hips adjusting in the slightest, my mouth falling open as I feel him rut against me through the fabric of our clothes. 

Fuck. I can’t take this. 

I lean forward, crashing my lips against his once more. Chris hums into my mouth. He furiously helps me peel off the bulky letterman jacket, the cold air feeling like relief compared to my burning skin. 

“Holy fuck, slow down, baby,” he husks, his hands falling to my hips as I shameless grind myself against his hard bulge. But I can’t get enough. “-’m not going anywhere—gonna stay and make you feel so good. Promise.” 

My heart drops as I feel his hand delicately caress over the purple lace covering my breasts. His nimble fingers trace around my hardened nub, a slight moan falling through my lips as I feel him smirk against me. 

“Take those cute jeans off, c’mon. Be a good girl for me—just this once, alright?” he grins. 

I nod slowly, awkwardly shifting as I pull down the denim while kicking off my shoes. Chris gets impatient, yanking the clothing to his own accord before planting me back on his lap, his jacket now discarded. 

“Holy fuck, look at these legs—would look so good wrapped around me,” he whispers, brushing my hair to the side as his lips graze my neck, “-while I fuck you deep and hard.” 

Oh my god. 

My mind is numb, every inch of my skin pulsing with a hot sensation of greed. Chris stares at me with lust, his hand moving in the corner of my eye. “Want me to touch you? Right….here,” he breathes, the pad of his finger resting directly over my bundle of nerves. 

I nod slowly, looking at him with hooded eyes as he starts to slowly circle the digit with a light, feathery touch. 

“More,” I moan, pulling his shirt into my fists as I watch him smile at me. 

“Yeah? What do you want, hm? Want my big dick in you? Want me to stretch you out and make you cum over and ov—

“Please,” I whisper, my hips moving for me as I struggle to stay still. 

Chris looks down, gesturing for me to take control. I hesitantly fumble with his jeans, pulling out his hard length as my mouth starts to water. 

Fuck. He’s big. No—he’s huge. 

As I go to pull my underwear to the side, Chris stops me, placing his hand around my wrist. 

“Uh-uh,” he tuts, “-take ‘em all the way off—wanna see all of you when I fuck your guts.” 

My thighs tense from his words, my hands quickly sliding the fabric down my thighs and discarding them without a single care. Chris pets over the top of my thighs, his eyes hungrily staring down between my legs. “Fuck—are you sure you want this? I…god, I can’t believe this is happening…”

I grab his hardness in my hand, spitting and dragging the lubricant up and down his shaft. Chris grits his teeth. His hands pinching into my sides as he lets out a deep groan. “You’re so big,” I whisper, mostly talking to myself. 

My eyes bulge as I feel Chris lift me with his hands on either side of my waist, placing me so my dripping entrance is directly aligned with his tip. His eyes bore into mine with dark passion. His jaw tense as he leans forward, kissing along my neck. 

“You gonna take it all f’me?” he dares, massaging my sides but keeping me from sinking down onto him. 

“Chris, please–”

“Gotta promise to take it all, sweetheart. Been teasin’ me all day already, I don’t need anymore of that, alright? Just—just gotta promise to let me stuff you full,” he purrs, sucking on the sensitive part of my neck just below my ear. 

“I promise, just—mmphf—” He slowly loosens his grip, letting me lower myself. I feel his tip nudge past my entrance, the stretch of his size making my body tense as my legs tighten to a halt. 

“Thaatt’s it, doin’ so good, just—just relax,” he praises, brushing my hair behind my ear, “-gotta be a good girl and keep your word again, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” I stutter, slowly starting to take more of him. A broken cry falling through my lips as I feel my body stiffen again. 

Chris is patient. His eyes are trained on my face as his hands massage over my body. “You got it, c’mon—just—holy fuck,” his hand lingers down to my stomach, my top so messed up that it’s bunched over my breasts. He’s not just admiring the skin, he’s worshipping the bulge—the distinct imprint of him inside of me as I hover over the last bit of his length. 

“Look at that, sweetheart, I mean—fuck—” 

I shriek as I feel him lift his hips upward, burying himself inside of me completely. My hands grasp onto his shoulders, my eyes teary as I watch him bite on his lower lip. “God—such a good girl, takin’ me so good,” he compliments, slowly helping me as I start to ride him. 

I feel him reach deep inside of me, my eyes staring up at the ceiling of the car while my body tenses with a wave of pleasure collapsing over every beating pulse of my skin. This is even better than that damn kiss. I’ve never felt like this before. Not ever. It’s like an adrenaline rush, so overbearingly good that it feels addicting.  

“How’s that, baby, hm?” he hums, smiling down at the sight of his length plunging into my guts with each thrust as my movements quicken. 

“I–it’s, I—” 

What the fuck was I saying? 

Everything feels so light, so impossible. 

“That’s it, fuckkkkk—look so good ridin’ me like this, keep—-shit!” he seethes. My walls tighten around him, my nails digging into his shoulder through his shirt as he lifts his hips to meet my movements.

His lips parted with pure ecstasy. 

“Fuck, fuck, I,” My words are cut off my a moan. 

Chris laughs dryly, his grip becoming tighten as he really puts in the work—using me like a ragdoll as he furiously fucks himself into me. “Mmmm, th-ere,” he rasps, smiling as I let out small shrieks and moans between each snap of his hips. 

He’s so deep. I’d never felt this good in my life. There’s a buzzing in my ears, spots in my vision as I feel my body ruthlessly convulse with the overwhelming sensations. 

How the fuck is he so deep?

How the hell is he hitting against the perfect spot over and over and over—

“You cumming already?” 

His question pulls me back to reality. I nod dumbly, my mouth drawing open as I let out a long moan, my thighs quivering as I rock myself against his movement. 

“Oh—I—”

“My name, sweetheart, wanna hear my–my name, c’mon,” he urges, the squelches getting louder as I feel my body burn with euphoria. 

“Chris, Chris, I–I—my god,” I cry out, my hips slowly rolling to a stop as I feel him pause his motions. 

I don’t have time to react—nor to recover. I feel Chris hold me tightly, flipping me over so my back hits the seat—his cock brutal as he drills himself inside of me. 

“Take it, fuckin—fuckin’ take it,” he chants. 

My hands scramble into his hair. I pull his face into my neck, letting my teeth sink into his shoulder. Every rut of his hips leaves me breathless, my body seizing as I feel his hardness drive into me over and over again while his pelvis slaps against my clit. 

“I’m gonn—”

“Wait. Wait for me, I’m—’m so close, baby, so fuckin’ close—”

I clench around him, the buildup becoming too much as he continues to drown every inch of my body with pleasure. His desperate tone lingers in the air, his breaths shaking as his hips lose slight momentum. 

“Wher–-where do you—”

“In-inside, please, just—just let me cum,” I plea. 

Chris huffs, his thrusts becoming erratic and somehow deeper. “Cu-cum with me, I—shittttttttt, so fuckin’ good, so… so fuckin’ good,” he seethes, a warm sensation flooding inside of me as I feel my body convulse once more. 

My limbs fall lifelessly. Our motions fall lazier, eventually pausing to a halt. Chris gently removes himself, pulling me into his arms tightly and positioning back into the seat with me on his lap. 

His hand finds the back of my head as I lean onto his shoulder, petting through my hair as we both try to catch our breath. 

“Holy shit,” he whispers. I let out a light laugh, flinching as I feel my stomach burn from soreness. “You good there?” he asks. 

Nodding into the crook of his neck, I lift myself to stare at him once more. My eyes trace from his sweat ridden face, seeing a clear imprint of his hand on the fogged-up car window. My nose crinkles as I inhale deeply. “It smells like sex, I’m sorry,” I let out. 

Chris stares at me incredulously. “Sorry? That was fuckin’ perfect—better than the money if you ask me. I mean… I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself anymore,” he teases, flashing me a grin as he combs my hair behind my ear. 

My lips curl with excitement. “Oh really? You like takin’ me for rides?” 

He nods firmly, biting on his lower lip. “Mhm. And you seemed to really like ridin’.” 

I let out a light laugh, shrugging my shoulders before ruffling his hair playfully. “Only with you.”

Chris cocks an eyebrow at me, “Only me, huh?” I nod shyly, letting out a brief hum. His eyes linger on mine before falling back to my lips. “You do ride good. Maybe you should be the racer,” he taunts. 

“Maybe,” I whisper, “-maybe…” 

“Let’s get you back in those cute jeans though, yeah?” 

[fall0utmind]

Pretty please with a cherry on top can you tell us about the Marc starting to nest again? I'd live to know your ideas on that <3

I am LIVING for this au I'm so so excited for the fic if/when you decide to write it!!

Hi anon,

I've been saving this one because I'm so excited about it haha

^^^ wrote this like 2 days ago and now I'm tipsy and ready to actually write a response.

OKAY SO. I wrote a lol bit about this in another ask (here) - basically talking about who marc might nest with and how he will react

As I spoke about in the previous ask, I think the first time, marc nests is alone/ just with Alex and is a slightly sad nest. Because it's been like 7 years since marc nested at all or with a pack. He wants a nice nest but has no ones clothes, nor any materials. It's all very sad and melodramatic. His omega so badly wamts to be free, to be allowed out. But marc is so scared to give into it. After years of repression, he doesn't want to lose control. (More on that later)

Now I'm gonna break it down into packs to make life easier. Idk what would come first, whether he would nest with the motogp pack, the VR46 packz his pack of adopted youngsters from other series - what are your preferences. Either way, here's my thoughts.

Thinking about VR46, the first time they nest with marc, Bez ropes him into building it. He's trying so fucking hard to make it fun, not sad at all, like daring each other to go nick people's clothes - Pecci loses a jumper on a race weekend (Marc), Vale keeps losing t shirts (also Marc), Celin actually keeps misplacing things, thinks he's going insane - it's actually just bez constantly stealing his stuff to wear/ use for nests lol. Anyways, basically, they go hunting for stuff and bring it all back to the ranch the first time that Marc joins a pack weekend. Marc hasn't been building his nests again for long and is consequently still a bit stiff. It should come naturally to him, but he's been repressing his omega for ao many years that hes so scared of letting it out, so scared of fucking it up. Because what if he puts the hoodie in the wrong place, fucks it all up and everyone hates him again. So bez helps him, kicking out all the alphas until they're happy with it. He chucks one of his own hoodies are Marc's face, tells him to put it on so Marc is surrounded by Bez's comforting, sweet scent

I think bez actually has a bit of a role in his recovery as an omega. He pulls marc into the nest before the others are allowed in, instantly shoving his nose in marcs neck, making the older tense. Until slowly, slowly, he relaxes. Like everything in recovery, it takes time, Marc beginning to get used to being in a pack again, to being an omega again. Because it's been so long... (Vale, when i catch you🔫)

At first, when they start to touch him, to initiate that contact, scenting him, etc, he just freezes, tenses up, and doesn't know what to do. (Again, it's been so long) So when the boys join the nest - pecco first (closest to marc), before the others slowly filter in - Marc is nervous. Bez doesn't leave his side, wrapped half around him, scenting him carefully, filling the air with him sweet scent to calm everyone. Pecco joins first, scenting marc himself, before slotting himself next to marc, too. The others join slowly, slipping around each other, each scenting marc as the join. Everytime they scent him, marc slowly melts into the bed, his scent getting stronger in the air.

Is now a good time to mention that bez and Vale have slowly been able to coaxed marc into stopping the scent blockers. This weekend, marc had turned up sheepish, still wearing some, and bez had led him to the bathroom, gently rubbing it off (with marc's permission).

Also, the others are absolutely gone for it, so obsessed with Marc's smell, calmed by it ( can i test the waters and say ever so slightly into it...but of a turn on)

Finally, when all the boys are there, Marc a puddle in the centre, and Vale joins them. He smiles softly at the scene, marc's eyes half lidded as he loses himself to the feeling of being in a pack, his omega beginning to take over.

And i think that's the crux of it. The nesting is the first time marc's omega side is fully let out in YEARS. So he's completely gone it it, beginning to purr as Vale joins, nudging Bez into Cele, so he can wrap himself around marc, breathing in the scent of content omega. Marc is half conscious, recognising sounds coming from his throat, but so shocked and confused because he doesn't remember purring, doesn't even know how to do it. So it's bitter sweet, there's marc fucked out, half lidded, letting himself sink into PACk, his instincts take over, but also the sadness, the fear of his omega taking hold because what if he never gets it again, what if he can never go back to the balance of his secondary gender and just being MARC.

So very much sweet, loving, everyone trying to be as close to marc as possible. Touching him, a hand on his shin, his hair. Every time anyone comes or goes, they scent him and Vale, and marc just completely lost to it. It worries vale, how out of it marc becomes, barely responding, his eyes cloudy. It's only after a few times that he kind of becomes normal again. Is able to operate.

But also i think that first time, the panic of his omega finally being in control, or at least not suppressed, as well as the fear of losing eveyrhting (his pack) and being repressed again... I think all of that means that it triggers a bit of a stress heat?? Very good excuse to write that, i think. It would be a fucking mess.

I love it, might do a separate post on it, if people want!!

Motogp

This is much a less structured first nest once Marc is reintroduced into the pack. I feel like most people in the paddock don't know marc was banned from the pack. There are rumours, of course, but nothing is confirmed. Marc doesn't want to go there. he doesn't want to make people pity him. Or hate valentino. So he says nothing.

Anyways. The first time he walks into the pack room again is in early 2026, hounded by his little pack of boys from younger categories until he finally sheepishly walks in. Obviously, the room freezes. It's actually pretty busy when he first enters. So Marc freaks. Because what if they don't accept him. What if it all goes to shit immediately. He defo tries to leave, maybe he does just flee?

Either way, when he is eventually coaxed into the pack, it's like coming home. It is important to remember that Marc is actually pack omega, and that 90% if the riders don't know this/ have never smelt Marc. So he comes in with his fucking perfect scent, all citrus and fresh summer breeze with a hint of Motor oil (of course) and the pack finally feels complete. Because Marc should have been there all along (thanks, Vale 🤨🤨🤨)

So, of course, people kinda freak a bit, like um I need to get as close to him as i can. It's one of the boys (his boys) who pulls him down into the pre built nest, immediately clambering practically on top of him as the others crowd in. And people don't really hesitate, clambering into a nest, finally reunited with the pack omega. I imagine that Marc being there is so calming for them, like his energy bring peace and a firm but loving atmosphere. Nobody would dare to fuck with him because in this world pack omegas are VERY important!

Marc is stiff at first, unused to such big nests (a bit like with the VR46 too), unused to people touching him, gentle hands against his hair, his legs, whatever they can reach. David (alonso) has instantly glued himself to marc, nose pressed in his neck, the vr46 boys are closest, wrapped around Marc, staying close in case he freaks. Alex is there too, right beside Marc. He slowly begins to relax, a weird nose building at that pack of his throat, purring still feeling unnatural, but making the alphas in the room glow with pride, the other betas and omegas settle into the comfort. Happiness permeates the air, scents pleased, and content.

This is post reconcilliation, when marc and Vale have sorted themselves out.

So Valentino definitely walks into this after finishing up with the team. Seeing his omega and his packs all together. It settles something in him. Something he didn't even know needed to be settled , a bit like how marcs gaping emptiness is finally, finally gone.

I like the idea of one of the youngsters (maybe David, or Maximo?) growling at Vale, still upset by everything. A couple of people tensing in the pack, until Marc hushes them, let's Vale join.

IMO I think that the motogp pack is simulatenosuly more and less important than the VR46 one. More because he always belonged there, and it was unfair for Vale to keep him away when he was part of the sport. Less because it has less sentimental value to marc, it's not the same as mourning a pack bond like the VR46, where they are a family.

It is very important for me to note that the motogp pack is not a romantic or sexual pack, just platonic. Of course, there's overlap of those kinds of relationships within the pack, but it's not the purpose!!!!

Also, this pack is not as rigid as others (because of the nature of it), but there's still a lot of respect for Vale and Marc!!

Anyways, what are your thoughts.

Sorry it's taken me so long. I hope you like it 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

I love love love ALL of your fics, you have no idea the intensity of my joy when I clicked on your profile and knew all of your fandoms.

If you're still doing the fic ask game, could you do Pez Dispenser Debris? It's my favorite mha fic ever bc you nailed the characterizations but it's also objectively like the funniest thing ever? and I feel like the background world is so rich even if it's not the primary focus of the fic.

Mirio is meant to be to Izuku what Izuku is to everyone else.

Everyone who talks about Izuku is like “he is unrealistically perfect. You can’t even be mad at him for it. He is all that is noble and pure and good. I’ve spent the last three years consoling myself with the fact that my classmate is the greatest person to ever live so it’s okay that he’s totally lapping me” and then you get to Izuku’s perspective and he’s just like a horrible mess of anxiety and crisis.

Izuku is ON THE RECORD that he thinks Mirio is the greatest man to ever live. He is #blessed to breathe the same air. God actually made him as a model for rest of humanity to follow and Izuku’s just here to be thankful.

And then you get to Mirio’s perspective. And he’s also kind of a mess.

I think Mirio excels at keeping the appearance of cheer up. Maybe a little too well. He defaults to it as a mask. So you end up with him wanting to cry at the idea of all might trying to fill in for nighteye and never telling anyone.

I also really liked the idea of him being slightly possessive over Izuku.

It’s not in a toxic way. He’s not trying to isolate Izuku or anything. But like. Mirio Does Not want to admit that he deserves anything resembling a second billing in Izuku’s life. They got incredibly close while he was prepping for his final licensure exam. He’s the one that’s starting an agency with Izuku. So every time Aizawa tries to get information out of him or send him away he’s like No I’m Sorry As Izuku’s Best Friend And Older Brother I Have Primacy Here.

He hides it from Izuku, because he doesn’t want Izuku to be pressured to stay by his side. There was this sort of golden moment before Mirio graduated where they were both completely unknown to the public and happy that way. They made a lot of plans about being heroes together before anyone had so much as made Izuku an offer.

A lot’s happened since then, and Mirio doesn’t want to lose what they are together. He doesn’t want Izuku to go where he can’t follow. But he also doesn’t want to hold him back. He’s been secretly very bothered by the idea that Izuku’s just staying by his side out of obligation and that he’s ruining Izuku’s hero career the way everyone says he was.

The text messages he sent were a rare moment of letting the mask slip, because he realized that he needed to tell Izuku how badly he wanted to still be heroes together before it was too late. He’s been trying to give Izuku an easy out, but he doesn’t actually want Izuku to take it.

He wants to be heroes with his brother, the way they promised they would.

[cringe-culture-is-dead-99]

I actually????????? wrote something????????????for the first time ever????

“What the fuck are you talking about, Henderson.”

It’s more of a statement than a question at this point, if only because Eddie knows that there’s nothing much that can stop Dustin when he starts his rambling, usually about some scienc-ey thing that Eddie doesn’t particularly care to understand.

Well, except… this isn’t his usual spiel about radio waves or electromagnetism.

“You need to get a girlfriend or somthing! Or at least, you know, go outside? You haven’t left this trailer in months other than to go to Steve’s. Which, is also another reason you don’t have a girlfriend. And why I’m your only friend. Other than Steve, I guess–”

He’s definitely still talking, Eddie thinks through the pounding in his head- a little gift from himself from last night who thought it would be a good idea to drink alone. Eddie really only comprehends every third word from Dustin’s mouth. But, given the sheer amount of them, he could pretty easily figure out what he was saying.

“Dude,” he interrupts, “you gotta just let it go. I’m fine! Great! Excellent, even! And Steve isn’t my only friend. I have the band! And you, my dear sheepies. How ever could a shepard abandon his flock to seek comfort in the arms of a stranger? I would not dare.”

Dustin DEFINITELY doesn’t need to know that Eddie is as gay as the day is long. The last thing he needs is the kid running off and accidentally telling half the town he’s a queer–or, even worse– telling Steve.

Eddie knew Dustin wouldn’t care if he knew Eddie was gay. He’d be a bit shocked, sure, but pretty soon he’d just start pressuring Eddie to get a boyfriend, instead, and finding new and creative ways to ask uncomfortable questions. He’s a good kid, Eddie thought. He wouldn’t take it badly. 

Probably. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please give me constructive criticism! This is my first 300 words or so of fanfic that ive ever written but im excited about it!!!

@nafroteil thank you for encouraging me !!

[goldenstorm0]

thinking about loid. wondering what would happen if someone confronted him about his parenting, especially if its direct and someone who would care less if he took it well. trying desperately to remind myself that I'm trying to make something haha funny and not angst. lowkey failing at this endeavor haha I love my boy I really want him to be called the fuck out but really don't think this dialogue would fit the story I'm currently writing but I need it I want it I want loid to confront the fact that hey maybe he likes having a family anyway just having a normal one over here lol

[moonlume]

tumblr said draw something bad so I did but I'm mad I still didn't feel anything

[sysig]

What your fave says about you: Sona/Undertale edition (Patreon)

[spinogreen0iq]

challenge: treat your/a human child like a person

Difficulty: Impossible

[mcybree]

Random limlife Scott rant, GO!

I got this ask and decided that I’d give it my best shot but got so mad on my skim through some of the moments I remembered that I gave up.

[asinglesock]

just realized my fatal flaw and the great struggle of possibly the rest of my life. while watching a cdrama.

[lesbianlenas]

i have this one friend where whenever we walk out of class when we make eye contact we look at each other like this

[aroaceofthesea]

Okay so i havent completely come to terms with it yet but WE WON THE HP CODEWARS (a coding competition in teams) AND WERE ACTUALLY GOING TO HOUSTON TO COMPETE IN NEXT YEAR'S COMPETITION WHAT

[vamptastic]

i am very tired by people discussing transitioning as this sort of journey of self-actualization. happy it was like that for you but personally it was just better than not transitioning. i do not feel that i went on a beautiful journey of self-discovery so much as did what made me the least suicidal. to be fair, i was also 11 when i came out, so perhaps i would feel more purposeful about it if i had been in my 20s or later.

[arolesbianism]

I <3 making hcs abt how time works in different stories isat is a spiraling arrow oni is line spaghetti and time travel in oni is closer to legitimate time travel than isat. Source: just trust me bro

[intersexghoul]

Sorry I gotta rant in the tags like a maniac because we have nobody to talk to about this without risking our closest friendship. Nobody is required to read and honestly I'd encourage ignoring it