#i'm probably not the first to say it either but i just found it so interesting

[diminuel]

During the time skip 2 years in Stinky Child Au, Robin is adopted by the familly

Luffy start doing it, then Ace, then Sabo then Dragon...

And Crocodile is doing his things when he has an ""important """ message and the news is " We have a new child Robin, even if she is already an adult."

Crocodile thinks two things

One " Wait, the Robin i know?"

Two : " FOR FUCK SAKE, I left you LESS THAN A WEEK AGO!!!!HOW YOU DO THAT?!

*lol*

I can imagine that happening. The Revolutionary Army finally finds Robin and then proceeds to do what he wanted to do years ago: give her a home. Of course, she's got one already with Luffy but having other people she can call home can't hurt? Right?

Also, Dragon was probably really cross with Crocodile for never telling him that he found Robin years ago. So is the sudden adoption pay back? Maybe, maybe not. Crocodile is not going to say no either way even though this is going to be a bit awkward X3

(Btw, in Stinky Child AU he never stabbed her, even when she lied to him and made to attack him. It was just another shitty moment of an already shitty day. Might as well happen, whatever. Everything's going up in smoke anyway.)

I'm posting a silly comic about this in a bit, I just had to post the ask first so I could link to it~

[all-pacas]

i mentioned this in the notes but. you know what. let's add it to this insanity: the way cameron ties into this. the way chase is absolutely, positively sure with her. for the first time in his life, with all his doubts and all his attempts to be good and obedient and do what he's told and follow the script of god, of his father, he… falls in love. and he's sure.

CHASE: You have doubts. CAMERON: And you don’t? CHASE: No. CAMERON: Well, that’s… naïve. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you. That’s how I feel right now. But I don’t… know. CHASE: I’ll wait until you do. CAMERON: I can’t know. No one knows. CHASE: I do.

ten years from now, he says. he has no doubts, he's absolutely sure, probably for the first time in his life: this is his path, he's figured it out, he knows, and six months later it's over. (no wonder, btw. no wonder chase doesn't seriously date again after this. not because of cameron, exactly: because of what all that meant and represented. another attempt at defining his life and finding direction, and it didn't even last a year.)

by s7 and s8, house pretty regularly accuses chase of being afraid of intimacy, of sleeping around to avoid relationships and connections. chase was presented as a flirt before this, but not that.

he falls immediately for moira, the nun, someone also struggling with guilt (the boy she nannied died, she blames herself) and faith and who wants desperately to find meaning, to find purpose. it was a rebound, chase seems to admit house is correct on that front, but that doesn't mean it wasn't real, that moira wasn't a mirror to his every internalized struggle. he tells her he was married once, that he can do relationships.

MOIRA: I tried the outside world. It wasn't enough. CHASE: Ever been married? MOIRA: No. CHASE: No kids. You never found a career. Doesn't sound like the outside world got much of a try. What you're headed towards now, fourteen hours a day in silent prayer, never having a family, never touching another human being. MOIRA: Just because that's what you'd miss the most. The nurses talk. CHASE: Nothing's wrong with having fun. MOIRA: They said you were almost killed three weeks ago. You go right back to fun? CHASE: Is that why you wanna be a nun? Someone broke your heart? MOIRA: No. I'm just looking for something more. CHASE: So am I.

no marriage. no kids. no family. "nothing wrong with having fun," he says, but plenty of other episodes explicitly say he finds sleeping around boring, he is bored on his date later this episode, it isn't fun.

HOUSE: Or you're terrified of intimacy, which is why you're a serial slut. But right now you're grasping at an emotional life raft. Ideally someone for whom intimacy's not an option. That actually makes sense, which I can't say about anything else you've been doing.

honestly, has chase ever really had much of the 'outside world?' he's probably known he would be a doctor since he was a child. he doesn't hate it, but did he ever have a chance to consider anything else? he has a career, but in this episode he's doubting and regretting it. in the last episode, he looks scared, not proud, to have his name on the door. he's not unhappy. i really don't think he is. but he's never had much choice either. he doesn't have any of the things he tells moira she'll want, either.

and yes it is all tied together. the constant searching and longing for meaning and purpose. moira has it. he doesn't. the one brief window chase did have meaning and purpose and what he wanted (family, intimacy, love, certainty) slammed shut, and continues to affect and fuck with him for years after; he's still reacting to it even now. ("i was married," he assures moira. "i can do relationships.") insane

Okay need to make a post entirely about chase being insane about religion. Chase's endless religious cycling. how badly and desperately and clearly he wants to believe, how much he wants faith and god, and how he can never quite - make it. Never quite get there. How he openly admires and defends the faith of others, faith and prayer as concepts, how he turns to confession in a crisis, how he still has large parts of the bible committed to memory, how he never answers any questions about his faith, if he believes in God, if anything.

In Damned If You Do, he shares his favorite bible verse with the nun. The episode itself paraphrases it a little, but the verse he mentions reads:

In this you rejoice, though now for a little while you may have to suffer various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith, more precious than gold which though perishable is tested by fire, may redound to praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

(you will suffer. it will be so hard. you will be tested. gold can be melted and your faith is more valuable, and if you keep trying, you will be rewarded, you will.)

(AUGUSTINE: Why did you leave the seminary? CHASE: That test. You passed, I failed.)

Here Kitty:

PATIENT: Do you want to tell me what an idiot I'm being? CHASE: No. I really believe that there are things that science can't understand. That there is a role for faith and prayer. But it's in the waiting room. Not the O.R. PATIENT: There's a reason I got sick. There's a reason for all the bad things that have happened to me. I don't know what that reason is. But I know that if there isn't one… If there's no greater purpose in the world. Then it's not a world I want to live in. CHASE: I'll schedule an operating room.

House Training:

CHASE: You want to go get drunk? FOREMAN: No thanks. I’ve got paperwork. CHASE: Listen, I don’t… I don’t know what I believe, but sometimes I need to think there’s something out there paying attention. So when I can’t talk to anybody, I talk to God, and pretend somebody’s listening. We were all wrong, Foreman. Even House was wrong. FOREMAN: I know.

He leaves the chapel in Damned if You Do. He prays for the baby in Forever. He gives the woman in Here Kitty her risky surgery; he defends the faith healer and Wilson's girlfriend's faith in House vs. God.

House vs. God:

HOUSE: When you were in seminary, did God ever talk to you? CHASE: …No.

Chase:

I always wanted to believe. It would have made my life a lot easier. It never took.

(AUGUSTINE: You told me your favorite passage. Would you like to hear mine? “Celebrate and be glad, for your brother was dead and is alive again.” CHASE: …The prodigal son.)

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

[valerico]

Mate, take it from one allergy bitch to another make your peace with not being able to eat tomatoes. It'll only get worse.

(serious in tags)

[in-a-trans-like-state]

I've just reread winters gift and in his cameo Peter says they dealt with a small malignancy in Kew Gardens, so I think I'm wrong,though I guess there could have been more than one incident at Kew, OR Gussie's spell somehow created a malignancy which unless a 3rd party twisted it somehow doesn't seem to line up with what we know about malignancies or Gussie

also i only know this because i listened to the audiobook yesterday (for the 3rd time this month..) I'm pretty sure the first reference to skytower is in Moon over Soho when Peter says he ran into tower block 30 seconds before it was due to be demolished (and it still wasnt as stupid as kissing Simone)

but yeah apart from very small things - e.g. Peter is called a PC and a DC in moon over soho (and we know he becomes a DC much later), and he says Dr Framline had his face fall off when it was actually the cycle courier, and that the term malignancy didn't turn up till October Man (as far as I remember) but its now being used by Peter with no explanation of how he learnt the term despite it not even being suggested as a possibility during the Punch so it feels like a retcon though its only noticeable if you are on your 3rd go through in a month. THOUGH Peter does keep mentioning having to go back and add in some mistakes to his reports to make them look more authentic, as members of the public always misremember things so thats a decent watsonian explanation (I don't think it was on purpose though)

my point though was that BA is great at foreshadowing and intra-referencing. The first 3 books where published within a year or two so I think he probably had the arc pinned down for the first 4 books, if not all the way up to Lies Sleeping, and I think he also somewhat plots out side stories that go in the comics and novellas as he goes along because throw away lines have a tendency to become fully fleshed out stories. Though theres some weirdness going on with Body Work (comic 1) because I could swear Peter and Guleed aren't meant to have meet before in it and then in the Hanging Tree (i think) when Guleed reintroduced start Peter mentions them bonding over the events of Body Work and not that they've been working together since Moon over Soho. I'd have to double check that though and see what the publication dates of the comics are.

Theres definitely quite a bit of planning going on, but I think his "chekhov's garden shed" approach also means he can just go back and flesh out throw way lines. I do kinda wish he'd go back and dig out some of the things he left hanging in the first book though, like who did the portraits in the coach house and whats up with Nightingales eyes. I think I found another tiny inconsistency in that its implied that Nightingale's eyes go grey when he starts ageing backwards (because they are blue in the portrait) BUT im pretty sure Gussie describes him having grey eyes in 1926 so either BA forgot or he has blue-grey eyes and it depends on the light.

ive recently relistened to all the RoL books TWICE and caught up on the comics and novellas

I know most of the comics suck but I have to say I do like Monday, Monday. Nightingale and Molly end up looking after the twins! (who look like they are about 3 years not 3 months but whatever) They have bee onesies! There are flashbacks to Nightingale's school days but I thought it fitted in quite well and worked with what he says in Amongst our Weapons. The story was fun and either i've been desensitised to the art or its vastly improved (i do not remember being revoluted by any of the panels at the minimum)

More or less binging all the books and comics did make me notice how often they reference each other thought the chronology vs publication order is wacky. One thing that is repeatably brought up though it Kew Gardens which is not specified in anything and iirc Peter mentions the incident in book 2, and by the later books he says he's talked to a tree. So big mystery that I half think is just a running gag and won't be answered. BUT in Masquerades of Spring, Gussie says he enchanted a tree in Kew Gardens to sing but that it would only be noticed by other practitioner. SO I think Peter rang into Gussie's tree, somehow activated it and knowing Peter he probably set it on fire.

[sincerelyneo]

no control | l.jn

“i can't contain this anymore, i'm all yours i've got no control”

💿now playing: no control by one direction

❯ summary: The guy sitting at the bar next to you seems pretty smitten - and Jeno hates it. He wants to be the one making you blush…or more accurately, scream his name.

❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, friends with benefits

❯ words: 3.7k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), jealousy, arguing, wall sex, swearing, back scratching/marking?, possessiveness, public sex, reader uses she/her pronouns, pet names, slight begging, a bit angsty, porn with feelings, literally just jeno being petty and jealous.

Jeno hates to admit it, but Mark was right. Casual, no-strings-attached sex does in fact suck. And God does he know it. It’s hard to forget when his friends keep bringing you up.

“Who’s she talking to?” Renjun asks.

Jisung replies with a simple shrug before Chenle chimes in with a quick, “I don’t know, haven’t seen him before.”

Him. Jeno feels that pronoun hit harder than expected, but he forces himself to keep cool. He doesn’t turn around to see who’s got your attention, even though every fiber of his being screams and begs for him to look.

His spying friends keep giggling amongst themselves as they sit on the stools at the bar. But it wasn’t until Renjun throws back the last of his whiskey and says: “He looks pretty into her.” That Jeno’s gaze is forced to find you.

Jeno’s too proud to admit it but he finds you instantly, you’re like a magnet, a force that he’s drawn to. And truthfully, he considers it a talent that he can seek you out of a crowd in seconds.

There you are, with some guy. Some guy he didn’t know. Some guy that, from what he could see from the side of his head, was probably good-looking. The good-looking ones always liked to try and talk to you.

Not that it matters, Jeno reminds himself, dragging his eyes away from you for his own sake. You hadn’t come to this party with him; he never even asked you. He agreed to keep this casual. You could spend your time with whoever you damn well pleased.

Even if that wasn’t him. And even if that’s a bitter pill for him to swallow. 

“Leave him alone guys,” Jisung finally speaks up. “They’re probably just talking. Besides aren’t you staying over at Y/N’s tonight anyway Jen?” He asked. 

Jeno takes his eyes off you for a second to look at his friends, he’s thankful for the reminder that he was supposed to be coming over to your place tonight. But now his mind is racing. Maybe you would change your mind, ditching him to hang out with that good-looking man instead.

You’re not like that, he tells himself. While you hadn’t attended the party with him, you had promised to spend the night with him, and you weren’t one to break promises. Besides, you didn’t bring strangers you just met home, either. He had nothing to worry about.

Except…what if he did?

When he dared to glance over to the last spot he had seen you across the lavish bar, he wasn’t expecting to still find you there. Surely, you would’ve found an opening to excuse yourself and re-join the friends you’d arrived with, but there you were. Still talking to that asshole. Smiling at him. Enjoying yourself.

Maybe it was just the whiskey talking, but Jeno felt like he was being replaced as if he was across the world and not merely across the room. Because it had been well over half an hour since he had first seen them together. And who knew how long you two had been talking before he or his friends even noticed?

Jeno doesn’t like this feeling. So he orders another drink.

He tries to ignore you – tries to focus on his friends but they keep mentioning it. Mentioning you. Which makes it so damn difficult to stop his eyes from sliding over, and noticing every little detail about you. 

The short dress that had ridden up from where you’d sat down and crossed your legs, showing off more than enough of your toned thighs. The deep black of it suited you, and not just because it was Jeno’s favourite colour, but because it complemented the tumble of hair falling over your shoulder. You looked like a goddess, untouchable. Especially when you smile. God, he loves when you smile. 

Just not when he’s not the one doing it. He should be the only one to make you laugh, to make you feel more relaxed at a party. Because he knows you, all the little things and your quirks.

But not once did you glance his way; and he’s fully aware of that because Jeno has definitely been staring. You’re ignoring him, and he hates it. So fucking much.

Maybe the alchohol was catching up to him, finally settling into his bloodstream and mixing dangerously with his jealous streak because he’s suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that he has to do something. 

Impulsively, Jeno abandons the conversation he had already half checked out of with his friends, and doesn’t waste a second marching over to you and the man. Ideally, Jeno wanted you to be thrilled to have him sweep you away, but when he arrived at the booth you and him had been sitting at, Jeno sees your eyes flash with an undeniable ‘what the fuck are you doing over here?’

“Nice to see you, Y/N,” Jeno greets you charmingly, sliding right into the booth on your side without an invitation, blatantly interrupting.

“Hi, Jeno,” you reply, keeping your tone polite despite not moving to give him more room.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” It hasn’t. “I thought I’d get you a drink and we could catch up?”

Jeno’s attempt to get you away is feeble, but it’s not exactly like he had enough time to devise a good plan. He was being impulsive, jealous, reckless – acting on instinct and he instinct was telling him that he need you, by his side. 

“Maybe later, yeah Jen?”.

“Why? You having too much fun already?” he asks, which was rather a loaded question, considering you had company sitting right across from you. 

“I’m having a lot of fun,” you emphasise a little more than necessary, glancing at the brunette across the table and playfully rolling your eyes. It had the man smiling in understanding, which was quick to piss Jeno off. 

“Really?” he said flatly. “You don’t look it.”

“Maybe you don’t know what I look like when I’m having fun.”

“I think I know better than most.”

That’s when Jeno squeezes your knee, and you want to disagree, but you couldn’t. Because Jeno knew, alright. He knew pretty damn well.

The guy opposite you shifts in his seat, probably aware that he had suddenly become a third wheel, thanks to the flirty tone in Jeno’s voice. Jeno gets a sick sense of enjoyment watching the man get uncomfortable – all the confirmation that whatever little plan he had going on was working. It made him only want to do it more.

So Jeno oh so casually reaches to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear. You try not to react, but your head tilts slightly towards him, and your features soften. 

“You look beautiful,” Jeno compliments, fingers trailing down your hair, brushing over your shoulder before they settled back on your knee. “Black suits you.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. 

“Are you two friends?” The man asks, reminding you both of his presence.

“Sort of,” you began to say, just as Jeno declares, “Very close friends.”

With your cheeks now flushing, you cut him a look that he largely ignores, before feeling the need to explain yourself to the friendly guy you had just met. “We catch up sometimes. Occasionally.”

“We’ve known each other for ages.” Jeno emphasises because he liked that fact. Liked knowing he was here first, having that leverage and advantage over any guy you’d ever meet.   

“I should leave you to it then, let you two catch up,” the man says through a tight lipped smile as he began to slide out of the booth. He knew exactly what Jeno was trying to do. “Nice meeting you, Y/N. See you around sometime.”

“I hope so!” You reply trying to sound enthusiastic. You didn’t want to give Jeno the satisfaction he was clearly hoping for. 

Once the man turned his back on you, you grab your glass and take an extra generous gulp of your drink. 

Before Jeno had the chance to open his mouth and say something else that was only going to irritate you, you lean into him. 

“What the fuck was that?” you hiss. “Out. Get out. Let me out.”

Shuffling along as he was told, Jeno watches dumbly as you hastily slip out of the booth after the stranger, tugging the hem of your dress down with one hand and clutching your nearly empty glass in the other.

Jeno blinks for a second as you try to parade away from him. Then it registers in his mind and he’s chasing behind you and out of the bar. That’s when he tugs on your arm to stop you in your tracks. 

“Y/N. Stop, please.”

Much to Jeno’s surprise, you do as he says, turning around and holding up a commanding finger.  It almost seemed like a joke, but there was no humour in your tone when you asked, “What were you thinking?”

Jeno tilted his head to the side, tonguing the side of his cheek. 

“We weren’t at that party together! You knew that,” you continue your rant.

“I didn’t know it was a crime to speak to you in public,” Jeno replies naïvely with an innocent shrug of his shoulders.

“You know that’s not what we do. We don’t hang out at social events, Jeno. We agreed on casual. I don’t want a relationship.”

Casual. Yeah, you seemed to really not want a relationship when you were chatting up that guy for ages. The thought makes Jeno scoff, his gaze dropping to his feet. 

 You cross your arms over your chest, exhaling, “What?”

“That guy,” he simply says, his eyes flashing with a slight fury when he looks back up at you. “You were with that guy.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh my god, you’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“Who was he?”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“It does matter when you refuse to even speak to me in public, but spend your whole night with him.”

Jeno’s smile is long gone, and almost, almost, you wanted to forget this whole thing and bring it back. You hated when Jeno was mad at you, not that he was very often, but he was being irrational right now. 

“I just met him, it was all friendly” you explain. “I can’t believe you’re jealous!”

“I’m not jealous!”

Jeno knew he was, but there was not a chance of him admitting that seeing you with any other man drove him absolutely insane. Every single damn time. Still, you know better.

“You obviously are! Jeno, you know how I feel about you–”

“Do I? You didn’t seem to be into me tonight.”

“Because you came out of nowhere and acted like I was all yours!”

“You are mine!”

That was the wrong thing to say. Jeno knew it as soon as it came out his mouth, saw it in the way your expression tightened slightly. Even so, he wouldn’t take back what he thought was true.

“We haven’t defined anything–” you fumble, “Infact, I think we did the opposite—” 

“How would you like it if I’d been flirting with another girl all night?” He cuts in.

“It wouldn’t matter,” you lie. “You can do what you want.

Jeno takes a few steps towards you, and it makes you unconsciously hold your breath. He’s so tall and intimidating and goddam sexy—wait you’re mad at him right now! 

“What I really want, Y/N, is to be with you,” he spells it out frustratingly slowly. “Seeing you all night long in that short dress that barely covers your ass and knowing I can’t touch you, claim you, fucking kills me.” 

Your eyes betray you, because despite every brain wave in your mind telling you to yell at him for that slightly misogynistic statement—your eyes still soften. 

“Well, you should’ve just said that,” you try to explain instead of lecturing him. “If you’ve been feeling like that you should’ve talked to me instead of acting like a caveman.” 

“You don’t listen.”

“I’m listening now.”

Jeno blinks at you, his jaw loosening as his eyes watch your gaze drift down to his lips. The action is loud enough for him to not waste another second before his hands move to your waist, pulling you in to the kiss he had been dying to give you all night. 

It’s harder than he would’ve given you earlier, more possessive – oh, definitely possessive when he forces your back against the brick wall at the side of the bar and your arms have no choice but to hastily wrap around his neck. You stumble a little, but he keeps a firm grip on you.

If you wanted him to tell you how he felt, well, that’s exactly what you’re going to get.

He tells you in the desperate way that he kisses you, lips parting and unwilling to leave yours. He tells you by the way he presses his body flush against yours, pinning you to the brick so you can’t slip away from him, not again. He tells you in the low moan that escapes him when your hand tangles up in his hair and your own lips work just as eager.

When he breaks away for a moment, he takes his time to just look at you. So pretty, so desperate, and so undoubtedly all his. 

And when you gaze back at him through long lashes and eyes radiating with lust, he has to groan because he’s the one making you like that. He’s the one getting you to bite down on those pretty lips, lips that were made for him, belong to him. 

But you’re feeling too desperate and he’s taking too long. So within a mere few seconds, you’re reaching for him again. It has him thinking maybe you’re trying to tell him the same thing. But there was no need to do that. Jeno had made it abundantly clear that he was yours. 

There was still a lingering frustration fuelling the two of you – mostly from you; it was jealousy for Jeno. He is jealous that someone else – another man – had gotten to spend the night at the party with you. He needed you to know that he hated to see you with him, and that this – this was never going to be better with anyone else. 

No matter how hard a man would try, they could never know you the way that he did. They could never make you feel the way he did. 

Ridiculously, you want to apologise despite him reading the situation all wrong. You hadn’t been flirting with anyone else, and you thought it didn’t matter who you chose to simply talk to. You never knew he’d feel this threatened. Never suspected it would upset him this much. 

You proposed the idea of keeping things casual to not get hurt. Jeno was unbelievably attractive and could have his pick of any woman. You thought keeping him at arm's length would protect you—figures it’s only hurting him. 

Regardless, no matter the context there was no denying that he was being a jealous ass tonight and the two of you had argued. An argument that you were both getting very turned on by and had you conflicted between getting down on your knees for him or letting him fuck you against the wall, outside and all. 

You always found great thrill in surprising him: breaking from the feverish kisses, you reach up under your dress and yank down your underwear. The delicate fabric falls around your ankles, and you kick them off to the side, inviting him to what he so clearly wanted.

I’m yours right here, right now, your eyes tell him.

And you really thought you had won at the whole surprising thing, until he hooks your legs around his waist and presses his hips harder against you. You never pegged yourself or Jeno for being an exhibitionist but something about him taking you against the wall of the very same bar he thought a man was flirting with you at, awakens something feral inside him. 

All of a sudden the wall seemed like the perfect spot for make up sex. Honestly, Jeno just wanted any sex. As long as it was with you. 

He exhales heavily when he starts to ease his pants down and you fumble to undo his shirt buttons. But you get far too distracted by his lips beginning to trail down your throat. He reaches for your thigh, smoothing up your soft skin, as he hitches up your dress around your hips. 

You’re so desperate for him you can’t help but whimper. And just when you think ‘Yes, finally,’ a cocky grin spreads across his face as his finger slips effortlessly (and too goddamn slowly) over your centre. His teasing is somewhat annoying, but it’s so hard to be pissed at him when he’s touching you like that. Hell, it’s hard to be mad at him in general—you’re weak to him and that’s exactly why you’re pushed up against a wall. 

Jeno picks up his pace as soon as he begins stroking you with another finger. You squirm against the wall and he watches that hungry expression grow as he rubs you rhythmically, fingers sliding up and down, up and down, so easily from how wet you are. Pride swells in his chest because he did that. 

Every moan that leaves your lips is his own little reward, one that he is dying to receive more, and more, and more of. Forever. 

Jeno knows you’re close. It would’ve been easy to get you off right there, and he would’ve, had he not abruptly pulled away from you. You curse under your breath at the loss of contact. 

“Jeno!” 

He smirks, loving the way you squirm as he nudges your legs further apart. His breath is hot against your skin as he murmurs, “Got to tell me what you want, baby.” 

You groan frustratingly, since apparently he wasn’t going to give it to you unless you said something. “I want you, now. Just need you inside me.”  

He smirks, the grip he had on your thighs tightening and the muscles in his arms flexing beneath his shirt. He shifts his hips, pushing the crown of his cock against your entrance — slowly, sensually, tormentingly. 

You lean into him, nails digging into the fabric on his back as he presses his forehead against your neck, soft hisses escaping him as he feels you — wet and tight. 

“This pussy was fucking made for me,” he growls, cock buried to the hilt. He could stay there forever, selfishly he wants to, but he can hear your whimpers and the need to please you becomes priority. 

He bottoms out and then his hips are snapping forward hard, fast, possessive. Whatever words you wanted to say dissolves into a senseless moan. His thrusts become more erratic and needy and the pace has you clenching down around him. Fuck. 

Jeno stills. His breath ghosts over your collarbones and his fingers dig even further into your hips. You know that look, he’s struggling to keep himself under control, which, given the circumstances is the last fucking thing you want. 

“Not gonna last long if you keep doing that baby.” 

He’s trying to reason with you, but before you really have time to think about what you’re doing you’re clawing at his back, tightening your legs around and digging the heels of your shoes into his back hard enough that he growls, low and frightening in a way that makes your spine tingle. 

“Fuck,” he grits out thrusting into you hard. The sound of skin hitting skin is loud and vulgar in the middle of the street, but you don’t care and can’t care because fuck, all you can think about is how it feels as he rocks into you, again and again and again. 

“Jeno,” you gasp out, grip digging into his shoulders as he fucks you, ruthless and unforgiving. 

He’s relishing in it, you can tell by the way he’s looking at you that he’s trying to fucking burn the sight into his brain forever, the sounds you’re making and the way you shiver in his arms and the sheer force of it all. He groans and when he kisses you again it’s nearly violent, a clash of lips and tongues and teeth. 

“All mine,” he groans against your mouth. He hisses as you bite at his bottom lip, retaliating with a growl and driving his hips into yours with a newfound ruthlessness. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“Oh—fuck please,” you gasp out, breaths coming out in little huffs in time with the movement of his body. 

“Not what I asked,” he lowers his voice, serious. His pace slows down and it has you squirming and crying out.

“Fuck yes—yours Jeno. Always been yours. Just please don’t stop—” 

Jeno groans and kisses your neck. He picks up his pace again. The same low tone in his voice as he promises, “I’m all yours too.” 

You swear those three simple words were the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. Your walls flutter around him and you don’t miss the prideful grin on his face as his hand moves down from your hip and his thumb presses against your clit.

His fingers move hurriedly and the pleasure is suddenly blinding and white and fuck fuck—

“Jeno yes just like that I’m gonna—”

“Good fucking girl,” he chokes out, your orgasm shaking him to his core, making his thrusts half-desperate. 

His rhythm falters and his own breath catches. He digs his fingers into your hip hard enough that it makes you hiss and then he falters and slows and gives one, two, three more thrusts before pinning you harder with a shaky, breathless sigh.

The two of you stay like that for a beat before he lowers you back to the ground, pulling down your dress. Then slowly, he brings his fingers to his lips and licks, tasting you with a roll of his eyes. 

“I mean it, you know,” He quietly says. “I’m all yours.”

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into a revering kiss, and you tell him the exact same thing back. 

[ballinandcantgetup452]

I'm really fond of Billy Batson being like the 4th or 5th superhero to debut. Like, he pops up RIGHT after the trinity pops up. I think it's a prime chance to see essentially a newly reborn DCU through a child's eyes. Not in like the New Frontier "Wow! Look at all of these guys!" way (not to knock that, it's still great when moments like that do happen). But in the "everybody is green enough that the idea that this grown man is acting like an 11 year old is extremely suspect" kind of way.

Every member of the trinity has generally the same reaction.

Clark is much more of a "this is the only other person who will TALK to me... BUT he's also probably autistic". Where he's cordial and kind to Billy but also keeps his distance. He's a country bumpkin, and as an autistic person who's ALSO a country bumpkin, I can bet that he'd use the signature "be kind at a distance and let him work it out himself" strategy that I most often see used. Not to say that Clark is going to be a jerk about it. He just knows that he's not qualified to help and since he's an adult he can take care of himself.

Bruce ALSO assumes that Billy is autistic. Especially since the first time he even MEETS Captain Marvel is when he's interrupted on a stakeout. I always envisioned a Year 2 Bruce not being cruel to strangers, but also not being nice either. He just kind of ignores him until eventually he calls Captain Marvel over to whatever he's doing and explains what's going on. Bruce is the kindest to Billy, even if it's not as overt as Clark's.

On theme, Diana ALSO assumes that Billy is autistic after meeting him. Of course, she assumes that after somebody explains the concept of autism to her after explaining how something's just off with "that guy". She's not fond of the fact that some asshole is using the power of old gods, but lets it slide because she doesn't know how to confront that and can tell that the conversation and confrontation with him simply isn't worth it. She's a whole lot more proper and Billy finds her nice and all, but a little bit too grown up for his taste.

Billy isn't a founding member or anything, but once he is indicted, each member of the trinity keeps an eye out on him. Batman doesn't find out that Billy is a LITERAL child until he's a couple of years in with Dick. So he just keeps the lie going. It's easier to tell somebody "he's autistic" instead of "he's a 12 year old swapping bodies with an adult deity"

Any other potential headcanons that can come with Billy Batson becoming the 4th or 5th or just a really early superhero?

[corvidiss]

#smile at people #a majority of the time people will smile back and you win Human Points #learn how to compliment people and do it often #Normalcy is a perspective that changes depending on who is looking but kindness and a positive attitude shows the same view to everyone #basic politeness with a little extra effort is amazingly difficult at times #but it goes MILES

Genuinely good advice from @aroace-get-out-of-my-face

can someone recommend some beginner normal behaviors for someone looking to become normal

[applejarjar]

Damn, ppl do this waiting for a job offer thing all the time?

[existennialmemes]

Ok Long Bill Cipher Rant please bear with me:

Bill is not a Good Person, and he is very clearly abusive to Ford, even before The Divorce™

But, there's an extremely poignant detail that everyone keeps leaving out. When Bill turned violent with Ford, it was not for no reason.

Bill wasn't just trying to get into earth for fun. The Nightmare Realm was disintegrating, and his Found Family would be literally eradicated if he couldn't find them a new home.

Using violence to save your family is an extremely different situation than just being violent to get his way.

He was literally running out of time to save them, and he was getting desperate.

That context is extremely important when analyzing Bill's character. He's not a good person, but he is not evil either. At all.

Additionally, Bill probably thinks it's somewhat normal for the people who love you to hurt you "for the greater good." Because his parents, who loved him dearly, were feeding him poison to make him blind.

The first Terrible Thing we know he ever did, destroying his home world, was done on accident, as a desperate attempt to get the people he loved to stop abusing him.

And he regrets it so much he literally cannot even think about it. He loved them. He just wanted them to love him without hurting him, and it ended up killing them all.

So yeah, he's got some incredibly fucked up notions of love and relationships. And that doesn't excuse what he did to Ford at all.

But there's still an overwhelming difference between "I'm going to hurt you because you didn't do what I say" and "I'm going to hurt you because if I don't everyone I love will die, and pain is a part of love, so this is normal and Fine."

Yes Ford deserved better, but Bill also deserves not to have the nuance of his character erased.

[goldenstring6123]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTNXxJ8TM/

THIS IS SO CUTE PLS I CAN SO CLEARLY SEE THE LADS MEN DOING THIS 😭 and the comment section had me dying where is evb finding these MEN 😔🙏

Lnds: Sleepy time!

Warning: No warnings, afab!reader, fem!reader

Authors note: Fluff (not a lot of it) and a bit of domestic stuff.

Sylus:

It had been 30 minutes since you left the bedroom. Sylus was already well on his side of the mattress, reading the news while waiting for you to come back. He thought you were just up and about doing your normal routine of drinking herbal tea and doing skincare, but it was taking you far longer than usual.

He settled the tablet down on the nightstand and walked out of the bedroom. He searched for you in every room he passed by, and when he arrived at the guest bedroom at the end of the hall, there you were, perfectly tucked in under the unused duvet.

You were curled into a ball and too engrossed in the video you were watching; you didn't even notice the black fuzzy threads wrapping around your weird curled-up position. You lifted off from the bed, and when you came to, the view was of Sylus' back as you involuntarily made your way back to his bedroom.

"So you're not going to put me down?" you asked, paying attention to the video again. "Are manners not a thing anymore?"

The brooding man didn't spare you a glance. "I'm not open for discussion. You're supposed to sleep in my bedroom. Our bedroom."

"I just wanted a bed all to myself," you uttered. Here you were, planning what to watch and what to eat for the whole night, and this guy managed to foil it.

"I don't share the same sentiment, sweetie. You have the bed every time I'm overseas on a work trip. It's even infested with your colorful pillows," he opened the door to the bedroom and reeled you in, gesturing to your side of the bed which had vibrant pillows and bed 'pets,' as you like to refer to them.

"You really can't sleep without me, can you, Mr. Big guy? Afraid that someone's under the bed or something?"

"I'm more afraid that you're going to ravage my food pantry when you're not in my line of sight."

"The guest bedroom is nowhere near the pantry and I don't ravage it—I simply take a few snacks," you clarified. "Greg would be sad if the food spoils."

"Either way, you sleep in my bedroom or my couch, nowhere else, sweetie."

"Admit it: You like my company, don't you?" You gave him a cheeky grin.

"Yes, yes," Sylus agreed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "You make a good meat shield when we get attacked in this bedroom."

"Oh wow. Reduced to a shield." You rolled your eyes in return and slipped under the covers. "That's Onychinus' leader for you."

"Right. Are you done now? I still have an early schedule for tomorrow."

"Alright, alright. I'm heading to bed now. You can sleep."

"Good. Now come here." Sylus opened his arms and you found yourself huddled right into it like it was the perfect mold. You shifted a bit and could feel his muscles relax against your back.

"Why did you feel the need to sleep in the guest room tonight?" Sylus asked under his breath.

"I was planning on reading comics all night. Tara recommended a new romance comic which I like, but knowing you, you'd probably take my phone away."

"Then it looks like I will be the bad guy tonight."

"Maybe. Until you fall asleep." You shrugged.

You hear the handcuffs being pulled out.

Shit.

Xavier:

3:02 AM, it says on the clock. You weren't on the bed. It was cold and it was proof that you never went on it, which was odd considering you told sleepy little Xavier that you were going to stay over. Poor little tired hunter was exhausted after a day's work and couldn't help but doze off while watching you do your little night ritual of moisturizing and doing a facemask.

Xavier sat on the side of the bed, letting out a big yawn. He didn't know where you were, but all he knew was that he didn't like being alone. From his palm, a faint whirlpool of light emanated, enough to guide him through his dark abode. His first thought was maybe you were watching in the living room. You weren't there. He then headed to the small bedroom right beside his, a spare one for guests, but it went unused when you both shared the same bed now.

He tried his best to quietly open the door. There he saw a little bump on the mattress and it made his heart squeeze; you were adorable and looked so small. Xavier tiptoed and folded the blanket away from you. He took a deep breath and lifted you up bridal style, pressing you against his chest.

"hm?…Xavier?" you slurred, vision dark and blurry.

"I'm moving you to our bedroom," he kissed the top of your head and continued his journey to the other room.

"You were sleeping," you paused, looking for the word. The drowsiness didn't seem to go away. "didn't want to…disturb you."

Xavier wanted to say something, but he and you both arrived at the side of the bed. He gently laid you down and placed a pillow between your limbs, which you automatically hugged. Xavier crawled to his side of the bed and yanked the cover over the both of you. Though you both weren't exactly touching, the little hunter's heart eased at your presence.

Gladly, he went back to sleep, hoping to maybe see you in his dreams.

Zayne:

Zayne's house was far too quiet when he arrived. It was only 7 o'clock, and by then you'd usually be in the kitchen, peeking your head out with a ladle in hand. There was no "welcome back" nor a simple "hello," but what did he expect? You were mad at him.

It's a shallow fight, really. Zayne decided to put you on alcohol time-out and took your hidden beers that you were so ready to drink after a grueling day at work. Zayne's judgment was far better than yours because when you get drunk beyond mental capacity, you tend to make a mess of the house, and you turn into a rage-filled, feisty lady. Moreover, you'd been chain-drinking for the whole week, and Zayne was getting concerned because you kept having hangovers.

His hands twisted on the knob to the little library of his house, where he would always find you on nights like these. There you were, curled in the lazy boy sofa and turned away from him. You were awake, but you didn't want to look at your lover.

"I'm home," Zayne declared.

"Dinner's in the fridge. Heat it up," you responded and closed your eyes. Zayne's footsteps grew closer and closer to you, and you felt his palm land on your shoulder.

"Your back will hurt if you sleep in that position."

The sofa might look soft and admittedly it's pretty comfortable to sit on for a long period of time, but with the curled-up position you have, it was bound to hurt when you fall asleep.

"I'm perfectly fine," you replied.

"Don't be stubborn." Zayne decided to pick you up. You wanted to thrash and get out of his grasp, but then you would look childish.

"I don't want to be with you tonight."

Zayne kept his lips in a thin line. He's more than aware that you're saying that because you're mad, but still—It hurts to hear it from you.

Gently, Zayne settled you in the middle of the bed. "I'll sleep in the living room. Stay here," he whispered and tucked the blanket over your shoulders. It was dark in the bedroom, so you couldn't exactly see him. You rolled over to face away from your lover and patiently waited for him to leave.

1:34 AM. You couldn't sleep. A can of beer would do you some good, but your tongue wasn't craving the bitterness of it. Instead, your mind looped over to a few hours ago when you said something that you didn't mean. It was harsh now that you think about it.

Now Zayne is keeping his distance from you. The owner of the house is sleeping on the couch.

With two pillows and a blanket in hand, you made your way down the flight of mahogany stairs. The living room was in full view, and Zayne was fast asleep on the couch. You nudged the two ottomans to the space between the coffee table and the main sofa. Then you threw the pillows and spread the blanket wide, letting it flutter down while you made yourself fit on the ottoman chairs.

You left a few spaces between you and Zayne, one that was filled by the cold pillow.

2:46 AM. Zayne stirred awake and found a blanket draped over his body. Beside him was his supposedly angry lover, clutching the hem of his shirt. He stared up into the chandelier above and took the pillow that was bordering between them, used it as his own, and pulled you closer, nudging the blanket over both of you even more.

Rafayel:

He's standing by the doorway, tapping his foot while a plushie was tucked under his armpit. He was frowning, and you could even see it through the dark.

"What?" you asked, shining the phone his way.

"So you're going to leave me alone tonight? Is that how you're going to play?" He was mad-mad, but that's why you were confused.

"Hey, drama king—you were complaining earlier in the day about my bad sleeping habits—I'm giving you the bed now so you can be at ease, but now you're mad at me again. Do you want me to sleep on the floor of your bedroom or something?"

"Duh? Of course not. I'm just complaining because it's true, but I never said you should sleep in the guest room."

"Then are you going to be alright with my sleeping habits?"

"No."

"Then sleep alone."

An audible gasp could be seen on the expression of the Lemurian. He looked so offended with the end of the conversation, but you weren't having it, so you plopped back onto the bed and hid under the covers, hoping that he'd go away.

The moment you peeked back out, you were rapidly crushed under heavy weight, making you sink to the bottom of the bed. Rafayel lay spread out on top of you, keeping you in your position and crushing you underneath him.

"Get off me! You're heavy!" You struggled underneath the blanket, nudging him and kicking him, but he pretended to be a dead body floating in the water. Rafayel kept still; if verbal convincing won't work, then he'll have to make you change your mind.

"Fine! Fine! I'll sleep with you!" you screamed. He rolled to the side, propped his elbows up, and rested his head on his palm. You just wanted to rub that triumphant grin off his face. He happily scooted underneath the blankets and hogged your side of the bed, wrapping his hand around you and shutting his eyes.

You didn't want to make a big deal of it further and decided to head to bed as well.

You were stirred awake by a strain in your neck. The lids of your eyes lifted at the electrifying pain that traveled to your head. You squinted, barely able to process the faint blue outside the window. Your body was spread out again, and nearby you could see Rafayel making use of the awkward space he was left with.

Guilt washed over your tired body.

Without much thought left, you held onto two pillows and let your body slip down to the carpeted floor. You hugged the pillow and placed another one under your head, liking the furry texture that brushed the side of your bare arms and legs. You closed your eyes again and let the tiredness wash over you.

It was cold for a summer morning. A large yawn escaped your lips and you patiently waited for your eyes to focus, and when they did, your eyes widened immediately at the beautiful sight of a sleeping Lemurian. Rafayel, too, was now on the floor, using his own arm as a pillow.

You tapped on his shoulder, and he just pulled you down back to the floor. "Five more minutes," he groaned, burying his face in your collar. Luckily, it was a Saturday, and you didn't have to go to work. You could indulge him in the meantime.

Author's footnotes: lol the tiktok was very cute, something that you'd see in a rom-com enemies to lovers sort of romance story. It would be a pretty redundant snippet if every situation is the same for the love interest so I took the liberty of changing things a bit.

Layout by me, using Canva Premium | Do not repost

[elllisaaa]

how about emo hot skater boy Jake with a massive dick energy and idk maybe like a kinda cocky reader who doesn't believe skater boy Jake is huge and he has to show the reader (who might be acting like a brat) what they're missing could be interesting

EMO SKATER!JAKE who's honestly kind of a loser when you really think about it. he's got his friend group and even if he's quite famous for his unconventional style, none of these people are really friends with him. he spends all his days either listening to music and trying to learn guitar, or skating and perfecting his tricks.

what is maddening is how hot he is despite all of that. you cannot help but stare at him every time you find yourself practicing at the skatepark at the same time as him. however, you don't want to let him know that you're kind of attracted to him. so instead, you always tease him about his style - even if it suits him perfectly - or the fact that he's probably still a virgin with a cocky smirk on your face.

jake usually puts up with your bratty attitude because he knows that what you say is not true, and because he's pretty sure you don't think a word of it. he might look like a loser but he's not an idiot - he can feel the way you're often staring at him. however the jokes about him being inexperienced are getting quite old.

"i'm probably the first girl you talked to in real life though, so i'm not surprised you're still a virgin." jake sighs as you grinned at him with a glint of mischief in your eyes, but he has had enough of your temperament. "actually, that's not what they all said when they saw how big i was baby." the pet name he always gives you and that made your skin hitch at the beginning is slowly growing on you, now making a shiver run down your spine. but you try to stay focused, even if the way jake is looking at you and licking his lips makes it hard to concentrate on forming coherent sentences. "pff ! you ? a big cock ? that's pretty hilarious at least, i have to give you that."

jake rolls his eyes at you, and you try not to move as he gets closer, but you still fall from your board. but the boy in front of you is quick to wrap an arm around your waist and save you from an unwanted meet up with the ground. jake takes this as an opportunity to let his lips brush against your cheek, his long, soft brown hair tickling your face he whispers in your ear : "maybe i should show you how huge i am if you still don't believe me. maybe you'll finally shut up once i got your tight pussy stretched open on my dick."

the air around you seems to thicken, and you cannot breathe properly anymore as jake starts to suck and lick your neck. heat rises to your face, both from his dirty proposal and his kisses that make arousal pool into your underwear. "so what now baby ? cat got your tongue ?" his condescending tone as he bites down on the flesh just under your jaw finally shakes you out of your slumber - even if you had to hold back a whimper the moment his teeth grazed your skin. "i bet you couldn't even make me cum, you're such a loser jake." - "bet darling."

that's how you found yourself in the backseat of his car, ass up in the air and face down buried into one of his sweater, his scent maybe driving even more insane than his actually very big cock thrusting into you at a rapid pace. "not so cocky now, uh ? all you needed was an inch of my dick to shut up." and you want to answer, you want to deny, but at this point, you're only able to moan and bite the inside of your cheeks to not let any more sounds slip past your lips. "fuck… you're such a whore y/n."

you feel jake leaning forward, one of his hands still gripping your hips tightly and the other clenching at the door of the car for some more leverage. his firm abs are pressed against the small of your back, and his hot stammered breath is crashing right against your ear - you feel overstimulated in the best way possible. "admit it now baby." - "n-no !" - "come on, you can feel how deep i am right ? you can feel how much i'm stretching out your tight little cunt, don't lie." but you still shake your head, choking on your words as you try to disagree again, instead cut by a loud moan when jake hits your sweet spot. you clench even tighter around him, and he cannot hold back the low, throaty groan slipping past his lips.

"you're so tight baby, must feel good to be this full." yes, it really does, but you don't want to admit it - as if the tears rolling down your cheeks and the way your lips are bleeding from biting them too much are not enough proof. "n-no, don't like it…" - "you're such a bad liar, y/n, it's pathetic." and then he resumes his rhythmic thrusts, hitting your sweet spot precisely each and every time, and it becomes way harder to hold back your noises. your fists close around the material of his hoodie, burying your face into his intoxicating scent in an attempt to drown out your whines. "j-jake… s-stop, i'm…" you have to mentally stop yourself from saying the words, but you can almost feel the way jake smirks against the skin of your neck that he's been biting and licking at. "what was that baby ? are you close ?" you shake your head no again, and jake's smirk is growing as he stops moving completely, cock sitting deep inside of you. "then i'll stop if you don't want to cum."

your reaction is immediate : you whine loudly when you feel him start to pull out, even more tears gathering in your eyes. "no, no, no, no ! jake, wait !" - "what is it now ?" your voice is quiet when you answer, but jake still hears it clearly : "wanna cum… please." the beg falling past your lips entices him into thrusting back into you full force and this time you don't even make an attempt at keeping your voice down, screaming out his name so loud that everyone in the parking lot must have heard you. "admit it, baby. say that i'm big and then i'll let you cum." you don't want to, but the way he's rutting his hips into you and driving you closer and closer to your orgasm is getting to your head, your mind fogged up by lust. "s-so big jake, so fucking big, feels so good… please, please…" - "now that's a good girl. cum."

the simple command is enough for you to let go, his name slipping past your lips again as you grip his cock even tighter, making it almost impossible for jake to move. but the way you become putty in his hands feels even better. what he loves the most though is the way you're too weak to push him away when he thrusts inside of you again, seeing your body visibly tremble as he starts to fuck you again. "i'm gonna give you my cum, make you even more full of me. maybe that'll keep your mouth shut a little longer baby." you hardly comprehend the meaning of his words, but you don't really care when jake is moaning about how good you're squeezing him, you don't really care when he quickly brings you to the brink of another orgasm. you don't really care because you know that you'll be teasing him again the next morning, hoping that he'll fuck you in the backseat of his car all over again.

[gguk-n]

The Exception (Max Verstappen x Reader)

Summary- 4 times Max let y/n get away with whatever she wanted and 1 time he didn't.

I just have so much love for maxie and I wanna show it so it came out as this. Hope you like it!! I hope maxie is only loved tbh

Max was very young when he had moved to a Netherland. If someone asked him when it was, he'd probably never be able to tell. But he could tell you about the annoying neighbours he had growing up. Yes, he did spend most of his time karting and didn't have the time at home or in school like normal kids his age would but the fleeting moments spent at that house in Netherland left behind fond memories that he can look back and only because of a certain little girl with chubby cheeks and two identical braids on either side of her head who had made quite a place in his life. Jos wasn't very happy with Max wasting his time entertaining those kids but he couldn't do much when the children's father was a tall bulky man who could take Jos out in one punch, insisted on letting the kids play together. The tall man had 3 kids Max noticed when he had dinner at their place for the first time; the oldest being the girl who we mentioned before followed by 2 younger brothers who seemed to love karting. They asked Max so many questions about it that they got scolded by their mother for ruining dinner for everyone but Max thought was cute because the youngest couldn't even pronounce karting but had a lot to say. Every time he would spend time with his neighbours, it would always be with the 2 young boys who wanted to learn how to kart better and become like Max like the younger one put it. Even now it makes Max laugh reminiscing about those days. They never really made it professionally though.

2008

Max and the 2 boys were playing around when their older sister asked if they would like to join her for a session of afternoon tea with Mr Whale and Miss Teapot. The brothers made a face of disgust and ran away from her, dejected she turned around when Max agreed. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She quickly dragged him into her room and had him sit next to Mr Longneck, the giraffe. An hour later Max was found in Y/N's room with two pigtails if you could call them that on the top of his head, a tiara and the prettiest necklace Y/N owned. Looking at himself in the mirror he couldn't help but laugh. Y/N on the contrary looked pleased with her handy work. She thanked him for being a good and compliant customer and to come back again if he ever wanted to look pretty. It wasn't easy to get Max to do what you wanted except he couldn't say no to her puppy eyes. She even gave him a drawing of him in his kart saying that it would bring him good luck since she couldn't be there and placed her favourite bracelet on his hand.

If Y/N was to ask him about the bracelet, Max would say he lost it as soon as she gave it to him, but deep down in the watch drawer of Max's Monaco apartment sat a brightly neon pink bracelet with Y/N’s initials.

2014

Y/N had started highschool and remained the annoying self Max had come to love. Her over the top demeanor and affection to screaming at the top of her lungs whenever she spotted Max never failed to make him smile. Having joined Formula one this year, meant Max was way to busy to be home but Y/N seemed to never forget to text him regularly. She would ask him to get autographs of other drivers or souvenirs from different countries. It was a regular race weekend when Y/N texted Max asking him to explain how the engine in a go kart worked. In a split second Max was on call with her asking "why do you need that?" to which she replied "I'm doing a project on that. I even made a small scale replica of your kart Look here!!!" She exclaimed. "I just need to shrink you and place you inside it" Y/N laughed. Max told her not to worry and that he would text her the details in a hour or so. Actually it took a couple hours and Y/N was starting to get agitated and called him back. Max replied with a almost done and smiled at her. He had literally written her entire report for her and sent it to review. Y/N almost screamed when she saw the assignment. She thanked Maxie for doing this for her and that she owed him her life. Max was just happy to be of help, he told himself more than he told her because who stays up till 5 in the morning on a race weekend doing someone else’s project.

He kept the small scale replica of his Kart on the mantle above the fireplace if anyone wanted to know what happened to the kart.

2018

Y/N was freshly 18, so getting drunk was the only thing on her agenda. On a night out, she was so drunk that no one could get her to move because she wanted her Maxie and would only leave with Maxie, she enunciated. Her friend was able to open up Y/N phone and thankfully find a Maxie in her favourite contacts. She called the number to be met with a groggy but worried voice. "Hi! This is Y/N's friend Kate speaking. Am I speaking with a....maxie?" she said tentatively. Max let out a sigh while rubbing his eyes, "Yes, this is Max speaking." "Can you come pick Y/N up?" She asked hesitantly followed by, "She won't leave with anyone but you apparently." Max was already out of bed and near the door when he said "I'll be there in 10, where are you guys at?" She sent him the location and waited for 'maxie'. Nothing could've prepared them for this. They had thought Maxie was a friend, a boyfriend maybe even a neighbour; they did not think Maxie was Max Verstappen, F1 driver for Redbull racing. He apologised for the inconvenience and crouched down to Y/N level who seemed to have realised that he was here. She cupped his cheeks and giggled while turning his head to the crowd of people standing, "Look, this is my Maxie." Hearing Y/N say my maxie made his heart beat faster then it should've, he admits but that girl had a tight hold on his heart and he couldn't really do much about it. She stood up and wrapped her arms around Max asking him to carry her since her legs felt like mush. Max gladly carried her back to his car, as he fastened her seat belt she asked him to take her back to his place since her parents would probably disown her if she come in drunk for the 6th time this week. Max looked shocked and asked her to stop drinking so much since it wasn't good for her. All Y/N could mumble was that the alcohol made the pain in her heart bearable. This broke Max's heart. Who would dare hurt his precious little angel, if he met that guy he was so dead, Max thought. Little did he know that guy was the one driving her back home.

Y/N was a nuisance when drunk, she reminded him of the little girl he had befriended when he moved here. She wouldn't listen to anything he asked her to do that night until he agreed to let her do make up on him which he would gladly agree to, real or not.

2022

Y/N had recently graduated and was looking for a place to stay. It was one of those nights after a fruitless apartment hunt Y/N facetimed Max. He looked very comfortable in his sim racing chair in his luxurious apartment in Monaco having moved recently. "Maxie" the younger girl sighed. "Meisje, what's the problem?" came a concerned voice. "I can't seem to find a decent apartment, I've been at it for months now." she said. Max offered to help her find the right place and Y/N started listing out all the things she wanted in her apartment which was sounding a lot like Max current apartment which was true, that was Y/N's dream apartment currently; after seeing it a couple months ago when she had visited him as a housewarming surprise and even held a party for him. "You can move to Monaco, the house you're looking for is here" Max said. After a long pause Y/N replied with a chuckle, "I don't make formula 1 money. I'm too broke to afford a house here. In Monaco, I'd have to sell my organs to afford a place there." As if it was the most obvious thing, Max offered her to stay at his place and look for a job here.

The allure of Monaco was too much and Y/N was able to thankfully find a job there so that she wouldn't be completely dependent on Max which he wouldn't have minded. Max never let her pay rent, he'd always tell her to cook good food and that was rent sorted.

2023

It was the night of the Abu Dhabi grand prix. Max had just won his third WDC so him and his friends decided to go out to celebrate, Y/N included. The night carried on as usual, Max not touching much of the alcohol since Y/N decided to down drinks like a thirsty person. She was now in the middle of the dance floor making herself familiar with Lando's crotch, much to Max's dismay. He made his way to her and led her away from Lando while she shouted at him to let her go. They were now stood in the quieter part of the club but you could still hear the music blasting. Y/N looked visibly annoyed at being taken away from the dance floor. "You are drunk, you'll regret it tomorrow." Max said. "That's for sober me to deal with. Drunk me just wants to forget about everything and having an eventful night with a guy would do just the trick." she said. Max winced at the words and held her arms so that she could steady herself. "I don't wanna feel like this," was this the alcohol giving her the confidence, "the guy I've been in love with for ages can't seem to see me as a woman. I've been trying for years now. If I walked out naked, I'm sure he wouldn't even be phased." she sounded dejected. "Any guy would want you, Meisje." Max whispered. "But not the one I do" she stepped closer, enough that their breaths mingled. The woman in front of him was driving Max mad, had she not been drunk he would've shown her how much any man would want her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes before saying, "He's so dumb, can't even see the woman in front of him." The statement felt oddly targeted. "You know, he's a 3 time world drivers champion and he doesn't even get that I love him so much." she said while looking into his eyes. "You're in love with me?" Max exclaimed. "I have been since the day you let me make pigtails on your hair but thanks for realising now." she replied sarcastically. "You're drunk, you don't know what your saying" Max replied. "Well, sober me would never tell you this but I love you Max Verstappen. So much that you make my heart beat faster and my chest swell when you look at me. I think about marrying you and having a family with you, but you think I'm joking." she declared. Max couldn't help but smiled, "Tell me all of this in the morning when you're sober so that I can tell you that I love you too schat and then I can finally kiss you." "You can kiss me now" Y/N made a kissy face and eagerly leaned in. Max shook his head and carried her back to the hotel room.

Y/N indeed remembered everything and the first thing she did even though she wreaked of alcohol was finally kiss those soft pink lips.

this is just brain rot at this point. hope you liked it

[lovemomhatepolice]

inCHident - charles leclerc

navigation taglist requests

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: drunk! reader and Kelly, English is my second language!

type: fluff (funny? i hope so)

word count: 1k

summary: there is nothing funnier than you and your good friend Kelly Piquet, with whom you imitate your partners after alcohol and their famous action of 11 years ago...

more content: formula 1 masterlist, charles leclerc masterlist, max verstappen masterlist

“You know what?” You laughed, uncertainly walking down the stairs hand in hand with your boyfriend Charles.

“I'm listening to you, baby,” the man replied, holding you carefully by the elbow and waist.

Your head was spinning. The amount of alcohol on that day probably overcame you too much, or at least at that moment. Partying with Formula One drivers after races was something you loved. That atmosphere, that closeness of everyone together, the successful partying… well, and your beloved girls who proudly stood by their boyfriends as you did.

“You're a good boy,” you grinned, squeezing his hand. “Really, I've never had a better one in my life.”

Charles giggled under his breath, well aware of your condition. Ay, it wasn't the first time he'd seen you in it, and it probably wouldn't be the last either.

“Well, in that case I'm glad,” he replied, helping you up the last flight of stairs at Max and Kelly's temporary lodging for this trip.

That's where the two of you held your after-party after a good partying at the club. You didn't often do this, as mostly everyone was already tired after the fun at the first place, but today quite a few of you still had a lot of energy in you and you definitely couldn't let it go.

“But really Charles.” you said, stopping in front of the stairs.

You were then standing in a place somewhat isolated from the room where all the rest who had come with you were sitting. They were not all drivers, on the contrary, you ended up with about ten people. The rest simply let go of further fun and either returned by plane to their homes or to their hotel rooms.

That's why hardly anyone could catch the fact that you managed the “bathroom” task, which earlier caused a lot of laughter. Leclerc just didn't want to let you go up the stairs alone, and heck knows - you could still fall down them in those heels.

“Really what?” he laughed, grabbing you by the waist the moment you threw your arms around his neck.

“You really are a good boyfriend. If it wasn't for you, I probably would have peed there, it was a must,” you whispered in his ear as if it were a secret, which brought a smile to his face.

“Mhm” he muttered, stroking your hips through the thin material of your dress.

You moved closer to him and kissed him lightly, grinning into his mouth at the same time. However, you were soon interrupted by a shout from Kelly, who, unbeknownst to you, suddenly jumped out from around the corner.

“[Y.N] I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN A LONG TIME!!!”.

You quickly turned around, abandoning your boyfriend's embrace, and threw yourself into the arms of the brunette, who stood behind you with her arms spread out. The hallway was filled with your squeals.

“Kelly, how I love you! You are so beautiful today, what am I saying? You are beautiful every day,” you replied, giggling.

You and the girl moved towards the living room and sat close to each other on the couch. Charles moved behind you, however, sat on the armchair next to you. He was well aware that he didn't even have a lift at that moment, when you continued to be giggling and in each other's embrace.

Everyone in the room was listening to some story by Lando, who was telling it with great passion, but you were in your own world. You whispered something in each other's ear, burst out laughing afterwards, paid each other compliments, and much more. It did not even cross your mind that Max was not in the room. You only found out when he entered the living room in a down jacket and looked at you and Kelly with a surprised look.

“Max, what happened?” asked Oscar, giggling under his breath at the sight of Verstappen.

Max shrugged off his jacket, depositing it on the couch behind you, making the brunette hiss from the touch of cold on her warm skin.

“I thought she went out...” the man began, but was not given the chance to finish, as he was interrupted by his girlfriend.

“NO, HE'S JUST UNFAIR,” she began to say loudly, grabbing your hand, which you quickly picked up on. You loved to laugh at your boyfriends. "I'm leading, he want to pass, he push me, I push him back and after he push me off the track. JUST NOT FAIR"

"Thank you, thank you Max" you replied, pretending to hold the microphone.

A volley of laughter went throughout the living room, and you could feel Lando's phone pulled out on you, which was most likely recording you, but you didn't pay much remark to it. So did Charles, who measured you with his eyes as intensely as Max did.

Kelly rose on the couch, catching in her hand the remote control that lay on the coffee table, and pressed it to her lips, sitting cross-legged. The girl tilted her head toward you and raised her eyebrows slightly, lending authenticity to the “interview.”

“Charles. What's happend with emm Max?" She asked and put the remote control to your lips, encouraging you to use it, like a real microphone.

You looked at Max, who was standing behind his girlfriend with a disbelieving face, and burst out laughing, but quickly stepped into your role again and put on a serious face. Just like fifteen-year-old Charles, giving an interview at the time.

"Nothing, just an inCHident... on the race" You replied, shaking your head in a familiar way.

“I think I just cried,” replied Lando, choking back his own laughter and wiping away the tears that really did trickle from his eyes.

Everyone in the living room laughed, including you and Kelly. Well, okay, maybe not everyone. Max and Charles looked at each other in disbelief, time and again shifting their gaze to you.

“I can't believe it's been twelve years and people continue to remind us of this,” muttered Charles, trying to break through the loud laughter and applause in the room.

All he got in response was a pat on the shoulder from Max, who took the seat next to him, and they both looked at the rest of their friends, wondering where in their lives they had gone wrong that they had chosen such people...

A/N: please do not copy or translate my work! if you have any issues regarding this please contact me in the messages :)

I hope it brought at least a slight smile to your face. AND what more can I say? happy (but belated) inCHIdent anniversary!

[aniesvision]

let's find out! (matt x chris x f! reader)

warnings: NOT incest (matt and chris barely even look at each other in this one), drinking, smoking, sexual/+18 card game, dirty talk, dirty jokes, pet names (princess, sweetheart), making out, fingering, oral (f! receiving), masturbation, choking, spanking, praising, overstimulation, squirting. (I might be forgetting something)

a/n: omg this is such an alarming amount of warnings I'm scared?? I'm sorry if anything's wrong, english is not my first language!

synopsis: when you were supposed to have a sleepover with Nick, but he forgot to warn you that he was out with Madi, causing you to have a few hours alone with Matt and Chris.

🪻🪻🪻

-I'm here!! —I yell, passing through the front door.

I look around confused when I didn't hear any response, my eyes only meeting Matt's figure on the couch.

-Hey, where's Nick? —I ask, letting my backpack fall to the ground.

-Out with Madi. —He finally looks back at me.

-Oh, he told me to come over, we're supposed to have a sleepover. —I explain, furrowing my eyebrows and taking a seat next to Matt.

-He'll probably be back soon. —He assures me with a gentle smile.

-LOOK WHAT I FOUND.

I turn around, seeing Chris holding some sort of card game.

-Hey, I didn't know you were here. —He walks towards me, playfully messing with my hair. I giggle, shoving his hand away.

-What's that? —Matt asks, curious with the game Chris was still holding.

-Oh, yeah, I was trying to find my belt but I found this instead, it's a game we got as a present on tour, it's called 'Can You?'.

Matt quickly grabs the game and starts reading the instructions. Apparently it has three different parts, one of questions for girls, another one of questions for boys and the last one being questions for everyone.

-Looks like a drinking game. We answer or drink. —He continues reading the box quietly, me and Chris exchanging a look.

They are not drinkers, and honestly, I'm not either. I only like to drink in special occasions and sometimes socially just to get in the vibe, but not much, and definitely not shots. I'm more of a fruity cocktail kind of girl.

Matt opens the box and stands up, shuffling the cards as he walked to the kitchen. He suddenly takes a bottle of vodka out of the fridge, looking at both me and Chris.

-Are we playing or not? —He asks, impatient, making me raise an eyebrow at his tone.

Chris walks to the kitchen and I follow behind, not really in the mood to drink. I watch as Matt sets two shot cups on the counter, looking up at me.

-Wanna smoke instead of drink? —He asks, making my eyes shine a bit.

Although I'm not into drinking, smoking is one of my favorite activities. I love the way the weed makes me feel so calm and connected to the world. Everything feels so incredibly real.

I nod, smiling when he hands me a lighter. I quickly open one of the zippers on my backpack, grabbing a small bag that I use to carry my smoking utensils around. Gladly I already had rolled one and I just light it up, feeling the smoke and blowing it slowly.

Matt and Chris decided to take a small shot before we start the game, and I laugh at their faces as they opened up cans of pepsis to get rid off the taste of pure alcohol.

-Right, let's start. —Chris says.

We all go back to the living room, deciding to make a circle around the coffee table. Chris takes the first card of the deck of questions for boys, reading it out loud as I slowly roll another joint.

-Can you make someone beg for you?

He giggles with his eyes glued on the card, Matt's quiet "what the fuck" makes me laugh as I set the joint on the coffee table and light up the other one I was already smoking before.

-I though it was +18 because it's a drinking game, I didn't know it was about sex. —Matt rests the back of his head on the couch, shaking his head.

-Well, we're already playing and it's only us three, so don't be a bitch. —Chris teases, placing his card aside. -And my answer is yes, I can definitely make someone beg. —He winks with a cocky smile.

Matt takes another shot, announcing that he needs to drink if he is going to sit still and listen to his brother lying. I just simply stay silent, laughing at their bickering and taking hits of my joint, enjoying the feeling.

Matt was next, taking a card from the same deck as Chris and reading it.

-Can you make someone finish more than once in one night?

I look at his cheeks getting slightly red and a shy smirk on his lips.

-For sure. —He shrugs, throwing the card on the ground to separate it from the others.

It was a bit odd to sit and listen to my friends talking about sex. We never really talked about our sex lives before, so I wasn't really sure what to expect.

Both of them look at me and I take a hit of the joint before picking up my card from the girl's deck.

-Can you handle overstimulation?

I tilt my head to the side, setting the card on the floor and taking a deep breath before responding.

-Yeah, I guess. —I shrug.

Matt smiles and Chris just takes another shot, followed by sips of his pepsi.

Things escalated quickly. The boys were already a bit drunk, considering they're not used to drink and a few cards were just way too explicit to even talk about. And I was already getting high, lighting up the third joint I rolled. We were all laughing at nothing.

I wanted to get comfortable so I was now sitting next to Matt on the couch, my legs on top of his.

-You really expect us to believe you don't like to be praised? —Chris pointed between him and Matt, his tone sarcastic as he looked at me like I was crazy.

I laugh, shrugging and throwing my head back to rest it on the back of the couch, blowing the smoke and feeling like I couldn't stop smiling. I was so high by now that my mind couldn't even process my own words, I was just spilling them.

-I don't know, dude. —I respond, closing my eyes and feeling Matt's hands on my legs, holding me so I wouldn't fall from the couch.

-Right. So if, hypothetically speaking, we were fucking and I praised you, you wouldn't like it? —Chris continued, propping himself on his palms behind his body.

I giggle, putting out the joint and laying on the couch, keeping my legs on Matt's. His hands slide up to my knees, thumbs rubbing my skin gently.

-I mean, probably would, but I don't know, I haven't been with anyone who praised me during sex, all I've heard was degrading shit.

I take a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of Matt's thumb caressing my knees and the comfortable position I am. Also, my body feels so light, like I'm floating, the soft tingles on my skin whenever I imagine visuals in my mind of what we're currently talking about makes it harder to concentrate on anything else but how hot the room feels.

Matt probably notices how my body was turning hot, his fingers slowly moving to my thighs. I open my eyes when I hear a weird noise, trying to ignore Matt's hands, and I watch as Chris walks towards me and kneels in front of my face with a grin.

I thought he was going to do something, my heart already beating fast, but all he did was hand me a new card, sitting normally.

-Your turn, princess. —He says, the pet name making my stomach swirl.

I just nod, taking the card and licking my lips before reading it out loud.

-Can you squirt?

There's a moment of silence when Matt and Chris just looked at me and I basically got in a trance thinking about this question.

-I think I can, but I never did. —I give the card back to Chris, who looked at me confused.

Before he could even ask, Matt cuts the silence to do it himself.

-What do you mean?

Once again, I laugh. It was somehow funny to me that this conversation was actually happening.

-I mean, sometimes when I'm like, you know, trying to make myself feel good, I feel like if I keep going for just a bit longer I'd probably squirt, but I never do, I'm actually kind of scared to try, so I don't know. –I explain.

It was weird to say it out loud, but I wasn't lying. Matt and Chris both exchange a look, then they look back at me, making me feel a bit nervous. Matt's hands continued their way up my thighs, slightly squeezing them, making me sigh quietly and prop myself on my elbows. Our eyes meet in a deep stare, his pupils dilated, making the blue almost disappear.

-Wanna find out? —I hear Chris' voice, his tone hoarse and deeper than usual.

My eyes widen at his words, but Matt didn't seem to care at all, he didn't yell at his brother, in fact, he only moved his hands further up and smirked at me.

I turn my head to see Chris, confused if he was joking, but he clearly wasn't.

-What? —I ask, furrowing my eyebrows and laughing out of nervousness.

Maybe I was too high to understand what was happening, but his intentions were exactly what I thought initially. I realize that when he moved closer to me, his eyes staring at my lips.

-I mean, I can help you find out if you want.

He didn't sound so drunk, but it was obvious that he wasn't sober. He'd never say that if he was. And even though I was high and definitely not thinking straight, my mind couldn't process that he was actually offering something entirely different than anything we ever did. And that Matt was silently watching it without interrupting or trying to shove his brother off.

It was weird. And the weirdest part was that something inside me didn't want to deny his offer. Probably not the sober part.

I was feeling so many things at once. I was confused, nervous, my heart was beating so fast, my mind was foggy and my body felt so heavy but so light at the same time, my mouth and throat were dry.

Matt takes my silence as I sign, squeezing my inner thigh lightly, getting my attention back.

-He asked you a question, sweetheart. —His voice echoed around the room.

I watch as he keeps slowly moving his hands, his fingertips brushing against my skin making me shiver. Why the fuck am I wet right now? They're my friends, this is definitely not a good idea.

As Matt's fingers get closer to my clothed pussy, I feel Chris leaning to press gentle kisses on my neck. I sigh in surprise, closing my eyes and automatically tilting my head to give him more access.

I couldn't even believe it was real until Chris placed his hand on my jaw and turned my head to face him, brushing his lips against mine. Still propped on my elbows, I raise my hand that was closer to him and tug on his shirt, pulling him closer.

Matt's hands were quick to unbutton my jeans, slipping them down to my ankles. Feeling the cool breeze against my skin makes me sigh, witch Chris sees as an opportunity to slide his tongue in my mouth.

I can feel Matt's fingertips running up and down my thighs, exploring my body. He leans slightly just to press kisses along my legs, teasing me as Chris kissed me.

Ending the kiss, breathless, I pull away, meeting Chris' eyes already on mine. He smiles at me, his hand still on my jaw, thumb caressing my cheek. He pulls me into another kiss just about the same time as Matt's fingers starts rubbing circles on my clothed clit.

I squirm under his touch, moaning softly against Chris' lips. Chris uses his free hand to lift my shirt over my head, throwing it aside and lowering his kisses to my neck once more.

I keep my eyes closed, biting my lips when I feel Matt sliding my panties down and discarding it with the rest of my clothes.

-You okay, sweetheart? —Matt asks. I could sense his smirk just by his tone.

I simply hum in response, still wondering how did we get in this situation, how did I let myself get in this situation. Chris was still showering my body with kisses, snicking his hand under my back to unclip my bra, when Matt's tongue suddenly makes contact with my wetness.

A loud gasp escapes my lips, one of my hands immediately finding his hair. As if this new stimulation wasn't enough, Chris moves one hand to my squeeze one of my tits and the other to choke me lightly.

-Tell me if it's too much, princess, just wanna make you feel good, yeah? —Chris's words only fueled my desire, making me even wetter than I already was.

I open my eyes to take in the situation, the sight of Matt's face in between my legs and Chris's hands all over my body is definitely something I've never thought I'd see. Noticing my gaze, Chris starts to swirl his tongue around my nipple, the pressure on my neck tightening.

I can't help but moan when I feel waves of pleasure taking over my body. Matt's tongue worked magically, it was clear that even drunk he knows how to use his mouth.

Chris kissed me again after a while, swallowing my moans and only pulling away to slap my face. It wasn't so hard, just enough pressure to make me whine with the mixture of pain and pleasure.

-Yeah? You like that, princess? Such a good girl for us, letting your friends help you out, so proud of you.

He immediately kisses me again, not giving me any time to process his words.

-Fuck... —My loud moan is muffled by Chris's lips when a knot starts forming in my stomach.

Matt, noticing I was getting close, inserts one finger in, thrusting it at the same pace his tongue moved. It was enough to drive me crazy, my moans filling the room.

-Close princess? —Chris asks, leaving hickeys on my neck.

-So close. —I whisper back, bucking my hips against Matt's face.

Chris only giggles against my skin, sliding his hand down to my stomach.

Not even a full minute later, the knot on my stomach snaps and I feel myself releasing on Matt's lips and chin. My grip in his hair was tight and even trying to push him away after my orgasm, he didn't stop.

-Matt... —I whine, breathly, my legs shaking and trying to close.

-Just a little bit more, you taste so good.

He only stops to mumble his words, pulling his finger out and gripping both my thighs with his hands, keeping me still.

-Can't... —I start to respond, but am interrupted by Chris.

-Yes, you can, you're doing so good. —He grabs my free hand, guiding it to the bulge in his sweatpants.

I turn my head to look at Chris, watching as he stands up, staying right in front of me. He takes both his pants and boxers down in one motion, my eyes widening when I see his free dick.

-C'mon, pretty girl, you know what to do.

I wrap my hand around his cock, rubbing my thumb against his tip, spreading precum. I slowly start to move my hand, stroking him. His groans were my motivation to increase the pace.

The overstimulation starts to feel too much, and I couldn't stop moving on the couch, squirming and rolling my hips against Matt's lips, trying to cope with the pleasure and slight pain.

-Fuck, can't... mhm shit too much. —I cry out.

Chris places one hand on top of mine, doing almost all the work as I focused on my second orgasm, quickly approaching.

Matt only stops to look up, caressing my inner thighs with his hands.

-Give it to me, sweetheart. Let it all go.

And as soon as he finishes talking, he was eating me out again, making me almost scream out of pleasure.

I could feel that this one was different, way more intense and it was similar to the feeling I get when I need to pee badly.

Chris's sounds only get louder and I feel his cock twitching against my hand, he moves faster and I turn my head to focus on him.

-You're so fucking pretty. —He breaths, a moan escaping his lips as he shoots his load over my stomach and boobs.

The sight of him, my hand still on his length, Matt in between my legs, it was all too much. My second orgasm hit me like a punch, a loud pitchy moan leave my lips as I feel myself squirting for the first time ever, right on Matt's face.

-Holy shit, that was so hot. —I hear Chris whispering next to me, slowly bending to pick up his boxers and pants and get dressed again.

-You did so good. —Matt praises, wiping his chin with the top of his hand and hovering over me to kiss me.

In the meantime, Chris collects all my clothes from the ground, waiting patiently to help me get dressed.

Matt pulls away after a few seconds, pecking my lips and helping me sit down on the couch. Both of them helps me dress up again as I only tried to catch my breath.

-Are you okay? —Matt asks, after we were all decently dressed.

I nod, taking a deep breath to fully recover.

-I am, that was... insane. —I giggle, not knowing exactly what to say.

-Insane is a good word to describe it. —Chris laughs.

When I was about to say something else, the front door opens and we all turn our heads to see Nick.

-What the FUCK happened here?

Nick's mouth opens in an 'o' shape, and just now I look around the room. There's cards everywhere, ashes and a half joint on the coffee table, two shot cups and a bottle of vodka next to the coffee table, and a huge wet spot on the couch. We probably all looked like a mess too.

-You don't wanna find out. —Chris is the only one that comes up with a response.

🪻🪻🪻

a/n: I loveee fics with card games!! also I have no idea if this one even exists, I just "created" it for the fic, but it was so fun to write! I hope you guys liked it too! (also, comment or send me a message if you want to be tagged whenever I post a new fic ✨)

tags 💕

@elsxz1 @ghostlythinggoingaround @zayyluvz @lovefromlilia @101sara

[half-oz-eddie]

Imagining Buck being so worked up over Tommy's bubbling and abrupt stopping that he comes up with absurd ways to try and find out if Tommy's okay.

First he downloads one of those texting apps, creates a secondary number and then texts Tommy pretending he's conducting a survey on behalf of the LAFD, and Tommy promptly replies to the text asking if it's a phone interview.

Buck panics and says it is and now he's downloading a voice changer app and asking Tommy all these bullshit questions like "when's the last time you were injured on the job, do you have any current injuries, do you like being a firefighter pilot..." and Tommy's answering the questions without a hitch, then Buck starts asking for "demographic information" like "are you married, single" and Tommy sounds a bit dejected when he says he's single so Buck chimes in and says "all heroes deserve someone special!" and Tommy responds with a dismissive "yeah, I guess they do."

Now Buck, being certifiably fucking insane, wants to take this further and asks if he can call Tommy to do additional surveys about his life as a firefighter pilot. Tommy obliges and asks the surveyor for their name.

Buck comes up with a name on the fly. "Aaron Baxter."

Tommy pauses, Buck gets nervous, then he's just like "okay, anything else you need, Aaron?" Buck tells him no and to have a good day.

Buck conducts a few more of these surveys with Tommy, just to hear his voice and how he's been doing on the job, trying not to dip too much into his personal life and make it weird.

On the third survey, Tommy mentions an injury that's kept him off duty, and Buck's so worried he's breaking character and Tommy's laughing, assuming this surveyor is flirting with him.

Buck doesn't know what to do so he kinda dances around the point but asks "what if I was flirting? you just sound so charming and interesting."

Tommy laughs into the phone and says he's flattered but his heart belongs to someone else and it probably will for awhile.

Buck thanks Tommy for letting him conduct another survey and tells him to get some rest.

Now Buck's scrambling around trying to figure out a way to make it seem like he found out about Tommy's injury a different way, without him finding out it was him conducting the surveys, so he asks Eddie to call Tommy and invite him to play basketball.

Eddie's asking Buck why he should do that and Buck doesn't want to tell Eddie about the survey thing either because he doesn't want his best friend to think he's a lunatic, so he just pleads, telling Eddie he just has a bad feeling.

Eddie eventually gives in and calls Tommy to ask how he's doing and see if he wants to play basketball. The problem is, Tommy never mentions the injury to Eddie. He just tells him he has a lot on his plate and he won't be able to come out for a few weeks.

Now Buck has to figure out another way to say he found out about the injury. He thinks and thinks and thinks, but he's got nothing. So he pulls out a secret weapon.

He'd been holding on to one of Tommy's shirts because it was the last thing linking them to one another. He hoped Tommy would come pick it up, or he'd ask for it, or something. So now Buck's in his car with this flannel shirt that he didn't want to let go of, but this shirt is the only way he can access Tommy.

He knocks on Tommy's door, and it takes him about 5 minutes to answer. They take a good look at one another, Buck immediately notices Tommy's crutches and starts profusely apologizing.

"I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I just wanted-"

"Come in."

Tommy invites him inside and they sit at the kitchen table having what feels like an endless staring contest.

"I, uh...I-I came to bring back your shirt."

"What shirt?"

Buck looks around, realizing he didn't even grab the shirt from the passenger seat. "Oh, damn it. I forgot it in the car."

Tommy snorts. "Sure you did."

"No I-I'm serious. It's in the car I'll go get it." He eagerly springs up.

"You wanna hear something strange?" Tommy begins.

Buck warily sits down, waiting for Tommy to continue.

"Some guy's been calling me every week or so, claiming he was conducting surveys on behalf of the LAFD."

Buck shrugged it off. "Yeah?"

"I asked my captain about it, he said there's no one conducting surveys on behalf of the LAFD. I started to think it was a scam at first, but the guy was only asking me about my well being and if I was seeing anyone and if I'd been injured on the job."

Buck was trying to conceal his nervousness. "O...kay?"

"I mentioned my injury, vaguely. And then Eddie calls me, asking if I wanna play basketball."

"B-but Eddie always plays basketball with you."

"Sure, but then, you suddenly show up here to return my shirt." Tommy cocks his head and smirks knowingly. "Something you wanna tell me?"

"I-uh-n-no." Buck falters. "I just...no."

Tommy laughs. "You have a very odd way of going about things, Evan Buckley. Can I offer you a little advice?"

"Sure."

"If you wanna lie, lie better, and if you wanna use a voice changer, use a better voice changer. I could still tell it was you."

Buck's mouth hung open. "I-uh-h-how'd you know?"

"I know you." Tommy responds in a quiet whisper.

"I'm sorry for lying to you. I just missed you so much and all I wanted to do was hear your voice again, b-but then you said you were injured and I-"

"Couldn't stay away." Tommy nods. "I would've done the same thing. I mean, not the voice changer, or the surveys, but...if you were hurt, I'd wanna be by your side too."

Buck sighs in relief. "C-can I ask you a question?"

"You've asked me lots of questions. What's one more?"

"When you said your heart belongs to someone else...did you know it was me you were talking to?"

Tommy shrugs. "Are you asking me if my heart belongs to you?"

"Well, I'm actually...hoping it does. Because Tommy...I can't let you go."

They smile at one another and Buck feels like the painful grip on his heart is finally loosening.

"How about I make us some coffee and we have a conversation? A real one. I wanna talk to Evan, not Aaron. Sound good?"

Buck agrees. "Yeah, that sounds great."