#literally have the back fucking deck jesus fucking christ

[lovrboyx]

nothing ruins the vibe faster than a mother🫠

[superhaught]

Sweetest Girl (Chapter Two)

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warning(s): discussion of disability

Word Count: 2200, Part 2/?

Author's Note: I was able to finish chapter 2! I'm sorry for the massive delay since positing any writing, it's been a time recently. I'll keep doing my best but pls don't hold it against me if I don't post for a while again. I still care about Regina so so much. Thank you to bestie @sapphicantics for helping me go back to this and reading it first :P

Summary: Reader goes over to Regina's house to work on some more chemistry lessons.

Part 1

Friday’s chemistry lecture was cut off by the dismissal bell and the teacher frustratingly called out as students were already busting through the door, “quiz on Monday! Don’t forget and study hard this weekend!” 

You were packing up your notes when five perfectly manicured fingernails rapped on the corner of your desk. 

You looked up and met the blonde's eyes. 

“So quiz on Monday, can I get some extra tutoring this weekend?” 

You nodded slowly, “do you want me to come to your place?” 

“I do.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t want -“ 

“I already told you, yes. Stop being so weird about it. Tomorrow. Come over around lunchtime. My mom will feed us then we can work.” 

You bit your lip and then nodded again, “okay.” 

Regina gave you her version of a smile and then flicked her hair behind her shoulder as she left the classroom. 

You saw that the teacher had been watching your exchange.

“It’s working,” they said, “whatever you’re doing. Her homework was better.” 

“You definitely can’t tell me that.” 

“Just keep it up. She’ll be okay.” 

You smiled and nodded, hugging your books to your chest and leaving the classroom. 

After a twenty-five minute walk, you were standing at the end of the driveway to the George residence. 

You looked up at the massive house in awe. It was clearly a new build. Likely custom-designed by the Georges. Two stories. Huge yard. You imagined an underground pool and a deck with a built-in, year round jacuzzi in the back. A movie theater and second kitchen in the basement. A yoga room with a Peleton for Ms. George. Master bath with a soaking tub. 

You were afraid to go in. 

You stood outside and stared for a minute longer before finally walking up the driveway (not made of asphalt or cement, but pristine white rocks). You walked past Regina’s Jeep, a Mercedes, and an Audi all parked (as well as a children’s Barbie Jeep abandoned in the lawn, belonging to Regina’s younger sister you assumed). 

You giggled at that. You imagined Regina either beaming with pride or fuming with rage at the idea of her little sister wanting a matching car to Regina. 

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the front door and waited for a moment, hearing a faint “get the door!” from inside.

Regina opened the door, “hey, did you find parking on the street?” 

“Oh, I didn’t drive.”

“Someone dropped you off then? Do you have a ride home after?” 

You shook your head, “I walked.” 

“What the fuck?” 

A woman called out from inside the house, “Regina! Language!” 

Regina clenched her jaw and inhaled slowly through her nose, flaring her nostrils. 

“It’s not a big deal,” you responded quietly. 

Regina rolled her eyes, “I’ll drive you home when we’re done, Jesus Christ.” 

“You really don’t have to drive me home, it’s okay.” 

“Shut up, it’s literally nothing. Now come inside you weirdo.” 

You followed Regina in, and the interior of the house was even more grand than the exterior. 

You didn’t have much time to take it all in before Regina’s mom was pouncing on you and pulling you into a hug then holding your shoulders and examining you head to toe, “well aren’t you a cute little thing!? I love meeting Regina’s new friends.” 

“She’s my tutor mom.” 

“Cute and smart, then! Well I hope the two of you become friends, Regina needs good influences in her life.” 

“Mom.” 

Ms. George raised her hands in mock-surrender, “Sorry! I’m just trying to be helpful, my goodness.” 

You tried to force a smile and fidgeted with the zipper of your jacket awkwardly. 

“Did you make us snacks?” 

“Oh yes!” Ms. George trotted back into the kitchen and came back with a tray stacked with a variety of finger foods and fruity little drinks complete with excessive garnishes. She passed the tray to you, “here you ladies go. Study hard!” 

“Thanks,” Regina didn’t wait around any longer before starting up the staircase to the second floor and expecting you to follow behind.

“Um, it was nice meeting you!” You directed to Ms. George, “you have a beautiful home.” 

“Thank you sweetie-“ 

“Hurry up.” Regina cut her mom off while standing at the top of the steps with a hand on her hip.

You rushed up the rest of the steps and followed Regina into her room. She immediately went to her floor-length mirror and adjusted her hair while you set the tray of snacks down on her vanity. 

“Not there,” Regina snapped, as if it was obvious.

“Where then?” 

Regina pointed lazily toward the ottoman at the foot of her bed and you obeyed, setting the tray down and then helping yourself to a handful of homemade trail mix. 

Regina came over and sat down on her bed and grabbed a single celery stick to eat. 

You must have made a face that Regina noticed because she raised an eyebrow at you, “what?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Why are you making that face?” 

“Oh, nothing, I just don’t like celery.” 

“You don’t have to eat it.” 

“I know, Regina.” You could feel yourself shrinking as your shoulders slumped. 

“It’s like negative calories so.”

“Well, actually…” 

Regina narrowed her eyes at you.

“Nevermind. So, do you want to work on material for the quiz?” 

Regina threw herself backwards and collapsed into her duvet in exasperation, “ugggghhhh!” 

“That’s why you wanted me to come over, right?” 

“Well duh… I’m just tired.” 

“I’m sorry.”

Regina propped herself up on her elbows and looked at you, “for what?” 

“That you’re tired?” 

She scoffed, “you don’t need to be sorry about that. See? You’re too nice.” 

You shrugged, “I guess it’s just something people say.” 

“Oh? So you agree, then? That niceness is a facade that people use to disguise their true feelings?” 

You shook your head, incredulous, “I didn’t say that.”

“Are you really, actually sorry that I’m tired or are you just saying it, then?“ 

You took a beat to think and then answered emphatically, “I am actually sorry. It’s called empathy. I feel bad that you feel rundown, and if you aren’t up for studying today, I would understand.” 

She raised an eyebrow again in her classic fashion, “I guess I just really don’t understand that. Why would you feel bad that I’m tired? And why wouldn’t you be upset if I wasn’t in the mood to study after you put in the effort to walk all the way here?” 

“I don’t know why, that’s just how I feel. What should I say instead? I don’t care that you’re tired, suck it up I’m here to make you better at chemistry?” 

“Maybe you should,” Regina shrugged. 

You shook your head, “I don’t want to say that. That’s not helpful to anyone. Are you going to retain any of the content we go over if I push you to do it when you don’t feel good?” 

“How do you know I’m not lying or just complaining for the sake of it? Maybe I need to be pushed.”

“Fine, give me a reason then. Why are you tired?” 

Regina thought about it for a minute, then her voice came out surprisingly quiet, “you know the accident from last year? The bus thing?” 

You nodded. 

She sighed, “It’s been a long recovery. I don’t usually talk about it with anyone.” 

“You don’t have to talk about it with me if you don’t feel comfortable, but… I am here if you did want to. Talk about it, I mean.” 

Regina didn’t say anything. She started to pick at the skin around her fingernails. 

You recognized the behavior right away because you do it too. Without thinking, you moved to sit across from her on the bed and reached out, clasping your hand around hers. 

The blonde stared at you shocked. 

“Shit, I… I’m sor-“ you began, starting to pull away. 

She didn’t let you go, “It’s okay. Don’t apologize.” 

The gesture must have cracked her armor, if only a little. She shrugged her shoulders and explained, “the accident injured my neck and back so I’m doing physical therapy twice a week for that and I’ve been diagnosed with something called POTS. So my heart is all fucked up or something. I'm exhausted and in pain most of the time even though I'm taking like six different meds every day.” 

“That sounds really hard.”

“But I feel like…” her voice failed her. She frowned, cleared her throat, and started again, “I feel like I shouldn’t complain about it… wouldn’t be cute to bitch about it when everyone…” she lowered her head and stared at her comforter, “when everyone thinks I probably deserved it.” 

You frowned and squeezed her hand, “do you think you deserved to get hit by a bus?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe. It feels that way sometimes. Like I was supposed to learn some kind of lesson from it. Like I was supposed to suddenly be a better person and be grateful and be an inspiration or whatever. But that’s like some biblical bullshit. And I’m not a better person. I'm still just me but now my body doesn’t work and people don’t even bother pretending to like me anymore.” The dam had burst. The corners of her eyes started to sting with painful tears. “I’m not grateful. I don’t think what happened to me was an inspiration or whatever. I just wish I wasn’t sick and I wish that people didn’t expect anything from me.” With that, she retracted her hands from you, quickly wiped her face with her sleeves and she continued to look anywhere but right at you.

“Regina, thank you for sharing that with me. I want to help you as much as I can.”

“Why, though?”

“Because I want to.”

Regina met your eyes again, scrutinizing you. Trying to find deception that wasn’t there. 

When she finally gave up she just said, “I don’t understand you.”

You laughed, “I’ve gathered that.”

She smiled and then rolled her eyes.

“Hey, do me a favor, okay? Go change into something comfy and then lets just watch something for a bit. Whatever you want. We can recharge a little and then see about studying, and if it doesn’t happen, it’s okay.”

“Are you being serious?”

“Yes.”

Regina breathed a sigh of relief and then visibly relaxed before getting up and walking to her large closet. She came back out a few minutes later, having changed into baggy sweats. She wordlessly sat down at her vanity, tied her hair up in a loose bun, cleaned her makeup off and then replaced her contact lenses with glasses. 

You smiled to yourself while watching her. She caught you looking over in the mirror and you quickly looked away before seeing her reaction if any. 

When she came back to the bed, laptop in hand, she said, “I’d usually never let anyone see me like this.”

“Well, then I consider myself lucky. Unless you don’t plan on letting me leave here alive now that I’ve seen you ‘like this,’” putting air quotes around your words.

“Cheeky…” Regina smirked and sat back down on the bed next to you, constructing a pile of pillows against the headboard to lean on, “you wouldn’t know until it was too late, though.”

You smiled as she continued.

“I guess I just don’t really care right now.”

“Well, I’m glad that you feel at ease with me. Not that you’re any less pretty than before.”

“You liar!”

“What? I’m not lying!”

“I’m not pretty right now. I’m all puffy and my hair is gross and I have my stupid glasses on and I’m wearing my mom’s old college sweatshirt.”

You shrugged, “you are pretty, Regina. You have freckles, I didn’t know that. And your hair looks cute like this, the little strands framing your face… I don’t know, you look pretty to me.”

Regina narrowed her eyes at you and then shook her head, “okay, whatever. Let’s just… watch something now.” She redirected her attention to opening up streaming on her laptop, “have you ever seen Real Housewives?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Oh my god. Okay I’m catching up on New Jersey right now, I’ll try to fill you in.”

You smiled and nodded. 

She started the show and slid a little closer to you so that she could rest the laptop on both of your laps. 

You ended up watching the show all evening, only interrupted by Ms. George bringing some dinner upstairs for you both along with Regina’s meds.

“Sweetheart, you look… comfortable.” Ms. George remarked, her tone unmistakably judgemental. 

The corners of Regina’s mouth downturned just slightly.

“Yeah you know we just decided to have a relaxing night. No need to be all done up.” You smiled, “thank you so much for bringing us food, Ms. George.” 

The woman was thrown off and you felt victorious.

“Oh, of course. I’ll… go get you girls some popcorn.” Ms. Geroge left and shut the door behind her. 

Regina released a breath she was holding and whispered, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“For… for what you just did.”

You shrugged and took a bite of food, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Regina’s eyebrows raised and then she just laughed in disbelief before turning the show back on and saying, “you continue to surprise me…”

Next Chapter

[fryingpan1234567]

Now listen you’ve heard of “Will slips into Texan when he’s freaked out enough”

You’ve heard of “Leo slips into Spanish when he’s freaked out enough”

Now I present to you: “Leo slips into Texan when he’s freaked out enough”

Jason finds Leo working on the Argo II in its early stages, pieces of it still suspended from the ceiling of Bunker 9. He can hear his boyfriend muttering to himself in a clearly irritated tone, occasionally punctuated by clanging like he’s hitting things

Jason expects it to be Spanish. It’s usually Spanish. What he does not expect is “Sweet mother Mary of baby Jesus Christ, if this damned hunk a’ junk doesn’t fly by the end a the week—“ He cuts himself off as he beats a loose screw back into place with his monkey wrench

Technically, Jason knew Leo was southern. He came from Texas. He occasionally had a little bit of a Texan spice to some of his words. But he always told people that he grew out of it?? So Jason was surprised, to say the least

So surprised that he stood there in shock until Leo rolled out from under the hull a few minutes later, freezing when he realized Jason was standing there

Anyways Jason was NOT prepared

You know who else was not prepared?

Hazel fucking Levesque.

They’re in the air by this point. They’ve been questing for a couple weeks. They’ve just almost been shot down, things are on fire, oars have been shaved off, there are tears in the sails. Leo is running around like a headless chicken on deck, trying to fix things

She just hears this fade in and out as he runs past her of “there ain’t no waY ON GOD’S GREEN EARTH YOU TAKE DOWN MY SHIP UNLESS Y’ALL MONSTER PAIN-IN-MY-ASSES GO DOwn with me Christ almighty—“

She stood there and blinked in shock, somehow despite the fact that the ship was literally falling apart around her

Leo swearing is not a rare occasion

Him swearing in a yeehaw redneck accent definitely is

Somehow that crooked grin of his makes so much more sense once you picture it with a straw between his teeth and a cowboy hat crowning his unruly curls like a fuckin Disney character

[f14fun]

diary entry one: blue jeans

w.c. 3.9K The wise actress Katharine Hepburn once said, "Enemies are so stimulating." Stimulating, infuriating, vexing—all can be said as the same thing. 

As I stare at Max Verstappen, one hand on my hip, the other tightly wrapped around the crinkled paper on my clipboard, I can't help but feel a mix of all these emotions swirling inside me. He blinks a few times, and I blink back. His lips curve from an exasperated frown to a satisfied smirk. Lips thinning, and drying, I lick them once for good measure. His gaze follows the rosy tip of my tongue that peeks out from between them, and I see him gulp down his smug smile. Two seconds ago, we were arguing. Now the silence that envelops us seems daunting at first, but perhaps, it's inviting. 

The tension between us hangs in the air, charged with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. The line between love and hate is very thin, and perhaps that's what makes it so stimulating.

Dear reader, might I start from the beginning? Not the very beginning, of course. But the beginning of the day, and the beginning of a new era in my life.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

I was having a morning. 

The email that I had received from RedBull Racing twenty-four hours before this very moment did nothing to prepare me for the current experience I was having. Perched outside of the RedBull Energy Station in Monaco, I recounted that the email specified to bring a tripod, my phone, my laptop, some comfortable shoes, and me. What the email didn't mention was how deceptive the weather forecast of a sunny sixty degrees would feel more like an intense seventy-two degrees of blistering sun.

So there I stood, sweating profusely in my newly adorned RedBull staff t-shirt tucked into my Nike white tennis skirt and with a navy blue lanyard so heavy with responsibility it felt like my neck might snap.

Steeling my nerves, I steadied myself as I climbed the wooden steps, up into the apex of the landing deck (as well as the apex of my rapidly beating heart). Thus, I was not paying attention to what was in front of me, rather I was paying attention to a particular bead of sweat that was beginning to trickle into my eye, so there was no surprise when I ended up barreling into a wall.

Well, I was barreling into a chest at that. That is decidedly, not, a wall.

The decidedly "not-a-wall" cleared it's throat. Rather, it was his throat, I came to figure out as I looked up when the tears in my eyes became more than just sweat, but the searing hot coffee that was flung onto me.

"What the hell," Max Verstappen exclaimed. Shit. I did not expect our first encounter to be so jarring and unexpected. He stood in front of me in blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry Max, I-" I fumbled with my belongings, trying to wipe the coffee stains off me. An angry patch of brown was starting to form on my attire, especially my RedBull staff t-shirt. It seemed a bit too late to ask for another one…

"Save it, Jesus Christ people need to watch where they are going," Max dismissively and rudely interrupted my apology. Eyebrows furrowed, I was now a little more than annoyed. 

First, I try to apologize to this guy, then when I try to apologize, he's a rude little bitch. The moment he walked into the room, he made my eyes burn, literally. Mustering up a smile (as I do not want to get fired on day one of the job), I look him dead in the eyes.

"Is there anything that I can do to make it up for you," I ask in my sweetest voice, as I grit my teeth. Didn't expect the three-time world champion to be such a stuck-up asshole behind the scenes, but then, what can you expect in life?

"Whatever," Max rolls his eyes, angrily wiping his neck of the coffee that he (okay, maybe I) spilled. "This coffee was so fucking good before your clumsy ass walked into it. Maybe look up instead of down." 

Now I was in disbelief. Behind his carefully curated image, a clean-cut Dutch motorsports driver with the charm and humor of James Dean, lay a spoilt little boy. Brat.

What a little-

This cu-

"You cunt!" I blurt out before I can stop myself. A few heads turn at the sound of the abrasive profanity. From my peripheral vision, I can see eyes widen as they realize that a random girl isn't calling a random person a cunt, but rather, their lead driver. 

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I'm about to get fired. RIP to me having any sort of career that is related to Formula 1 or motorsports.

Before he can even respond, a nice-looking lady with her hair in two French braids approaches me. She wears the same RedBull staff shirt that I have on (minus the coffee stains), and adorns a lovely pair of anagram studded Loewe earrings. 

She fidgets with her Dior rings nervously, especially the ones on her pinky. She walks closer, and I swear I can literally smell heaven. I so want to be her when I grow older. Her smile looks welcoming but her eyes that flicker back and forth between Max and I betray her true emotions, nervousness.

"Hey Y/N! I was looking for you all over the place, thank God I found you." She says. Inquisitively, I look at her, confused. How could such a stunning, amazing lady know little ole' me!

"Do I know y-," and before I can even respond, I'm being dragged by my wrist into a secluded area, my feet barely keeping up with hers. 

"What the hell just happened?!" The mystery girl asks me, and she seems rather interested in the story itself rather than admonishing me for calling Max Verstappen a cunt, quite loudly if I may admit.

Letting out a shaky sigh of relief, I steady myself by leaning on a countertop that's covered in various platters of fruit. Thank God for F1's hospitality. Popping a pineapple square in my mouth, I start talking.

"I was just walking by and accidentally crashed into him and his coffee went everywhere. I immediately apologized, but he immediately took everything the wrong way," I explained to her, already exasperated three minutes into my job.

"Ugh, he does that sometimes," she said, disappointed.

Sometimes?? So he was a full-time dick, part-time Formula One driver. Nice.

"So sorry that that happened to you, your first day nonetheless," she chuckled. "I forgot to introduce myself, oh my gosh! My name is Giorgia, and I'm going to be your temporary boss for the season. I read your resume and begged the RedBull administration to hire you, you seem perfect for the job!" Giorgia puts in air quotes. Gosh, her golden chrome manicured nails look so perfect.

"Ahh, I see! Nice to meet you, Giorgia, I would introduce myself, but you already read my resume," I bashfully laughed, my smile full, even after the stressful encounter earlier.

"When I read your resume I was so shocked! You do so much outside of school, I'm so envious. If I knew how to do that much when I was your age, I would be retired now!" Giorgia jokes. 

"Bless you, Giorgia! You don't look old enough to be using the "when I was your age" nonsense on me," I smile.

"Oh child, I am older than you think. I'm approaching the big thirty soon," she replies. Now it's my turn to be shocked. She doesn't look a day over twenty-two. What was in this woman's skincare routine? Noticing my shocked face, she continues.

"How did you manage to create a startup for female high schoolers interested in Formula One whilst double majoring in Marketing and Communications at Penn State in the States? That's so impressive, woah." Giorgia asks.

"Honestly, it was a lot of late nights and early mornings," I reply. "I was passionate about creating opportunities for young women in motorsports because there wasn't much support when I was in high school. Balancing the startup and my studies was challenging, but it was worth it. Seeing the girls' excitement and progress keeps me motivated." I gestured, a smile blossoming across my face, grateful that my efforts for the past four years were not in vain.

"That's incredible. It's no wonder they hired you as soon as I insisted," Giorgia says, her admiration evident. "You're going to bring so much to the team this season. Just remember to pace yourself and don't hesitate to ask for help if you need it. We want you to succeed and enjoy your time here."

"Thank you, Giorgia. That means a lot," I say, feeling more at ease. "I'm really excited to contribute and learn as much as I can."

"Great attitude! Now, let's get you settled in. There's a lot to cover, and I want to make sure you're comfortable with everything. Shall we start with a tour of the Energy Station?" Giorgia suggests.

"Absolutely, lead the way!" I respond enthusiastically, ready to embark on this new adventure. Minus the fact that I would probably have to face my mortal enemy (yes, Max Verstappen) as soon as the tour was over. 

Ugh, I was not looking forward to that fact.

As we start walking, Giorgia glances at my stained clothes and says, "Oh dear, that coffee spill really did a number on your outfit. Let's get you changed into something clean before we continue. Follow me." Appreciating her kindness, I followed her.

We navigate through the bustling Energy Station, weaving between staff and equipment. Everything seemed so alive. The air is filled with a palpable energy, the hum of activity resonating throughout the space. Mechanical engineers are busy fine-tuning equipment, their hands deftly moving with practiced precision. Race strategists huddle in small groups, deep in discussion over data and strategies. The congregation between the data scientists in Monaco and Milton Keynes grows louder, as the occasional burst of laughter or shout of excitement punctuates the lively atmosphere.

Chatter fills the air as team members communicate rapidly, exchanging updates and coordinating tasks. It’s a symphony of productivity, each person contributing to the greater goal. The seamless coordination is impressive, like watching a well-oiled machine in action. I notice how everyone moves with purpose, their focus unwavering, yet there's an underlying camaraderie that makes the environment feel welcoming.

Important guests mill about, mingling with the staff. Their designer suits and elegant dresses add a touch of luxury to the scene. It's clear that this is not just a workplace but a hub of high-profile interactions and networking. The guests, ranging from sponsors to celebrities, seem genuinely interested in the work being done, engaging in animated conversations with the team members.

Despite the opulence, there’s a strong sense of community. People greet each other with warm smiles and quick, encouraging words. The diversity of accents and backgrounds adds to the richness of the environment, reminding me of the global nature of Formula 1. It’s a melting pot of talent and passion, all working towards a common goal.

I want to be fully part of that in a few years, I think to myself.

Giorgia leads me to a small, private area tucked away from the main action. It's a changing room stocked with fresh uniforms and other essentials.

"Here we are at The Closet," she says, opening the door to reveal a neatly organized space. "Grab a new navy blue RedBull top and a pair of blue jeans from the rack. You can change in here, and I'll wait outside."

"Thank you so much, Giorgia," I say, genuinely grateful for her thoughtfulness.

"No problem at all. Take your time," she replies with a warm smile.

"Here we are," she says, opening the door to reveal a neatly organized space. "Grab a new navy blue RedBull top and a pair of blue jeans from the rack. You can change in here, and I'll wait outside."

I soon realized that the neatly organized place, The Closet, as she called it, was more of a showroom for clothes rather than a dingy little closet. 

The name had conjured images of a cramped, dimly lit space, but this was anything but. Instead, it was a bright, expansive room filled with perfectly arranged clothing racks and shelves. Designer outfits, gleaming shoes, and accessories were displayed with meticulous care, each piece highlighted under soft, flattering lighting. 

The air was lightly scented with a delicate fragrance, adding to the luxurious ambiance. The polished wooden floors and sleek mirrors along the walls made the room feel even more spacious. It was clear that this was a place where every detail was considered, creating an atmosphere of elegance and style.

God, I needed to be part of this lifestyle for the rest of my life.

As I change out of my stained clothes and into the fresh uniform, I feel a wave of relief wash over me. The new outfit fits perfectly and is much more comfortable for the day's activities. Now adorning a newer navy blue RedBull staff t-shirt and blue jeans emblazoned with the Oracle Red Bull logo on the right, back pocket, I'm ready for the tour of the Energy Station.

Giorgia leads me through the bustling corridors of the station, explaining each area's function with enthusiasm. We spent about half an hour wandering various corridors and exploring the building. 

Finally, Giorgia stops at a sleek glass meeting room located at the end of a long hallway. Through the transparent walls, I catch glimpses of Christian Horner, Sergio Perez, and Max Verstappen engaged in an intense discussion. Their gestures are animated, their expressions serious yet occasionally breaking into smiles.

Despite the anticipation of meeting the team, I'm suddenly overcome with mild (okay, maybe more than mild) hatred towards Verstappen. My first meeting with him was supposed to be friendly and inviting, not ending in me calling out his God-awful behavior by name-calling.

I'm not looking forward to facing him again. His bad attitude didn't exactly leave a good first impression, or a dry shirt for that matter. Well, at least he might remember me as the "coffee incident girl" or even worse, the "girl who called me a cunt", instead of just another new intern.

Whatever it may be, I knew that the moment he saw me again, his laugh would turn into a sulky frown.

"You ready to meet the big guys?" Giorgia jokes, one hand on my shoulder, the other on the glassy surface of the wall. "Well maybe, only two out of the three of them I guess for you," I smirk at her childish comment.

"Oh yeah, unfortunately, I have to see my mortal enemy again. Hope he doesn't hate my guts and so I don't have to call him a cu-" Before I can continue cursing him out, Giorgia pushes the glass door open.

Giorgia opens the door and gestures for me to enter. "Here we are, Y/N," she says with a warm smile. "Meet Christian Horner, Sergio Perez, and Max Verstappen."

I step inside, feeling a surge of nerves as I introduce myself. Three pairs of eyes swivel towards me, and one pair in particular narrows in annoyance.

"Hello, everyone!" I wave my hand excitedly and muster up a genuine smile (to the best of my ability, of course), "I'm Y/N, the new fan engagement intern! I'm a recent graduate from Penn State University in the United States, as I graduated summa cum laude with a double major in Marketing and Communications. I grew up in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, and I recently moved to Monaco as I was accepted into the University of Monaco's Sports Business Management program. I'm excited to work with you all and film some funny Tiktoks!" I grin, an easygoing smile blossoming across my face, now satisfied with my introduction.

Christian Horner stands up from his chair, and nods in acknowledgment, offering a firm handshake. "Welcome to the team, Y/N," he says warmly. "We're excited to have you on board." Shaking his hand firmly, I scan the room, now confident to take on new challenges (in case you didn't get it, the challenge being Max Verstappen) rather than wither away apprehensively.

Noticing my newfound confidence, Max's frown deepens, the stark contrast of my previously meek attitude transformed into a woman with grit.

Sergio Perez, or Checo as he's known, greets me with a friendly smile and a handshake. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. Looking forward to working together," he says sincerely. 

Max, however, eyes me with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "So, you're the intern," he says, his tone suggesting both surprise and annoyance.

I nod, trying to gauge his reaction. "Yes, hi. It's nice to meet you, Max," I reply, unsure of how he'll respond.

Christian interjects with a chuckle, sensing the tension. "Y/N will be assisting us with our social media engagement strategy, especially on TikTok and Instagram," he explains, shooting a playful glance at Max.

Max audibly sighs, clearly not thrilled about the idea of taking social media directives from an intern. "Great," he mutters sarcastically, though he begrudgingly accepts the situation.

"No seriously, you will have to participate, Max, it's written into your contract," Christian jokingly smirks, rubbing his gray stubble. To this day, I still can't believe he bagged Ginger Spice.

Max begrudgingly grumbles, unhappy that Christain brought that up. Checo, on the other hand, lets out a guffaw, clearly entertained at Max's unwillingness. Despite the tension, I feel a rush of determination. 

I will not let this man-child son-of-a-bitch (I refer to his father, not his mother) ruin my chances of a future career in Formula One. This internship was my chance to prove myself, even if it meant navigating Max's resistance with creativity and patience. 

And yes, dear reader, before you ask, I do have experience babysitting. Except this time, I'm just babysitting a rather overgrown toddler.

Giorgia, sensing the need to break the ice, claps her hands lightly. "Alright, now that we're all acquainted, let's dive into our plans for the upcoming season," she suggests, smoothly transitioning the focus away from the initial awkwardness.

During the meeting, as ideas are getting spun back and forth between the four of us, I notice that Max feels the urge, just the pure need to be contrary and disagreeable to anything I say.

When I bring up the idea of doing the Nasty meme dance trend on TikTok, featuring the song by Tinashe, Max scoffs.

"You can't seriously expect me to do a silly little TikTok dance," Max says, his tone dismissive. "That's not what I signed up for." It lowkey is, I think. Written into your contract, I jest to myself, thinking about what Christian said earlier.

Clasping my hands together like I'm about to reprimand a child (I may as well be at this point), I level my voice and look Max in the eyes. "Max, this trend isn't just about doing a silly little dance." I copy his words from before. "It's about engaging with fans across different communities. It's a chance to show a different side of RedBull Racing beyond the track."

Christian Horner interjects, nodding in agreement. "Y/N makes a valid point. Social media presence is crucial for our outreach. This trend could help us reach a wider audience, not just within F1."

"This is a trend that's surfacing beyond the scales of the musical and dancing side of Tiktok. It's been gaining traction in the hip-hop and R&B communities of Tiktok and gets especially popularized when celebrities participate in this challenge. We must utilize moments like these to promote the brand of RedBull Racing and market to a broader audience." I finish, satisfied, as it would be near impossible for him to max-plain anything to me after such a comprehensive defense.

"This is why we hired you, Y/N," Christian states, approving my response. Strengthening my gaze, I smirk in Max's direction.

Goal.

Max's expression darkens visibly at Christian's praise of me, clearly irritated by the support I'm receiving. He shifts in his seat, crossing his arms defiantly. "Fine," he grumbles, his tone begrudgingly conceding. "But don't expect me to dance like a fool."

Checo, ever the diplomat (and thank God for his presence, if it was only Max and I, I would've definitely lost my marbles), chimes in with a friendly tone. "It's just a bit of fun, Max. I'm sure you'll manage," he says, trying to diffuse the tension.

I maintain my confident smile, unfazed by Max's reluctance. "Great," I reply brightly. "Let's start planning how we can make this TikTok a hit."

Giorgia, sensing the need to redirect the focus positively, claps her hands lightly. "Excellent! Now, let's brainstorm the specifics and get this campaign rolling," she suggests, guiding the meeting back to productive territory.

I do not know how much time went by as we all went over the details of the social media outline for the next year (provided and designed by me, as I stayed up for hours last night scrambling to put this together), I just knew that the sun had almost already fully set.

As the meeting drew to a close, we finalized the details for the TikTok campaign, outlining roles and scheduling filming sessions. Giorgia wraps up with a motivational pep talk, emphasizing teamwork and creativity. In the corner of the room (like the little sleep paralysis demon he is), Max continuously rolls his eyes everytime Giorgia says teamwork.

As we stand to leave, Max intercepts me at the door, his presence looming with a simmering tension. His narrowed eyes fixated on mine, his voice low and cutting. "Don't expect me to cooperate. I wouldn't want to work with someone as irresponsible and clumsy as you," he sneers, his words laced with thinly veiled contempt.

I meet his gaze evenly, refusing to let his hostility rattle me. "Well, Max, I guess we'll have to see how well we can work together," I retort calmly, masking my irritation with a composed demeanor.

And that's how my first day at the RedBull Racing Energy Station ended; filled with moderate hostility from one particular individual, yet quite welcoming from the others. Whatever it may be, I knew this next year would be quite, stimulating.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

yourusername

liked by gorjusgiorgia, yourbff1, and 681 others

yourusername: day one of my new job and i accidentally called someone a cunt, oops! view all comments user 1: girl how did that happen accidentally 😭😭

yourusername: i didnt mean to it just slipped out 😭

user2: now Y/N...

user3: wait this is comical we need an in depth explanation

user4: besides the crazy caption, queen this is so aesthetic! 💗

yourusername: thank you so much! (i've had a wild day)

user5: she's just a girl, it happens sometimes!

yourusername: see! someone gets me

gorjusgiorgia: as a person who was here when it happened that was DEFINITELY NOT an accident

yourusername: girl are you TRYING to get me fired 💀

gorjusgiorgia: whoops 😀😀

yourbff1: FACETIME. NOW. EXPLAIN.

yourusername: i PROMISE it isn't as bad as everyone is making it seem!!

gorjusgiorgia: it lowkey was that bad if i'm going to be honest 💀

yourusername: she's LYINGGG

yourbff1: i fear she may be truthing!!

gorjusgiorgia: let's just hope [REDACTED] doesn't see this post! 😝

yourusername: i fear for my life! (and job!)

user1: oh teaaa, who's [REDACTED]??!

yourusername: i'd be fired if i say!

[itsohh]

Always Room For One More

A/N: Female reader, this fic is dedicated to @xintothewoodswegox​  who I can’t thank enough for you constant support. ✌ Still a huge thank you to everyone else! I do see you and appreciate you. (If your thinking, is that me? Yes is it)

Summary: Ghost returns to his room after a mission to find it already occupied by his lovers who encourage him to join them.

Word count: 3658

Warnings: Smut

AO3 Masterlist

Sometimes, missions went to plan. Sometimes they went better than the plan. Job done, good job and back to base. Ghost was used to it. When he arrived back at his room, however, he knew something was a little off. He always knew when someone had invaded his privacy and gone into his room. Of course, he wasn’t dumb enough to leave anything out for someone to waltz in and find. As his hand held on to the door knob he quietly listened- then heard it. Small muffled sounds through the doors. The walls and doors of the base were rather thick. Sound didn’t travel very well through them by design. Like the ghost he was, he silently opened the door to the dark room.

A hiss came from your lips as you groaned out. “Stop fucking moving prick, or are you going to give in so easily?” Ignorant of Ghost's arrival, you seemed completely absorbed in your little world with Soap.

“As if, besides I’m not the one that's bloody fucking cheating.”

“Oh and how am I cheating right now?” Adjusted to the dark, Ghost could make out the pair of you in his bed. Both in each other's arms he could make out the bare shoulders while your chests pressed together.

“Oh ho ho, don’t act like you're not purposely clenching down around me.”

“Says the one whos literally throbbing right now.”

“I can’t control that!” Ghost removed his jacket and sat down at his deck chair to remove his boots. Not that either of you noticed.

“And I can control my cunt?”

“You can, you told me one time.”

“Well yeah but sometimes it has a mind of its own-”

“-What are you two bickering about.” Ghost finally interrupted, both shoes on the ground and a fresh shirt on. You practically jumped at Ghost's voice.

“Jesus Christ- ngh.”

“Ugh.” Both you and Soap groaned a little at the movement before the pair of you gave each other accusatory looks.

“You said Simon wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.” You whispered to Soap and stuck your finger against his chest.

“That was the expected time, don’t look at me I don’t suddenly know why he's back early.”

“Job was done faster than expected. Why are you cock warming Johnny in my bed?” Ghost started to remove his pants and you kept eye contact with John.

“Well you see-”

“He-” The pair of you started to both speak at the same time and paused.

“Let me correct myself, why my bed?”

“Oh!” The pair of you nodded in unison and looked at each other before you turned back to face Ghost.

“We always sleep in your bed when you're away.” You spoke like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I mean we always sleep in your bed when your here eh.” Soap shrugged.

“Don’t you have your own beds?” Ghost sighed.

“Yours is bigger.” You gave Ghost a matter-of-fact look. Soap snickered next to you and you made sure to lightly slap his chest in response.

“Aw come on don’t be like that you set yourself up.” Soap protested and you turned to face him with a roll of your eyes. Ghost finally climbed onto the bed next to Soap. The bed dipped under the added weight and forced Soap to move slightly backwards towards Ghost. A movement that also happened to you, sliding further onto his dick.

“Oh fuck-”

“-John-ny” You punctured out his name as Soap groaned, pleasure stimulating the pair of you.

“Are the two of you going to do this all night?” Ghost asked while Soap lifted up the duvet slightly so Ghost could slide into the bed with ease.

“Dunno, Soap what's the schedule?” You managed to joke out, still trying to slightly recover from that small bit of pleasure in your wound-up state.

“Oh let me just get out the fucken diary then. Ah, bugga,r looks like we have booked this all the way to one then we have a shower booked in at one thirty.”

“We could totally change up the schedule though if you want to join. Saves me having to go get my stash.” You propped yourself up with one arm to look Simon in the eye.

“Yeah, you should join LT- wait stash? This is the first I’ve heard anything about a stash.” Soap turned to face you, his brows furrowed. Your head tilted in confusion back at the man.

“You… know about my stash right? I’m not crazy, am I? Ghost you know about my stash right.”

“Hard to forget.”

“Hard to forget? What the hell aren’t you two telling me about?” Trapped between the pair of you, Soap’s eyes darted back and forward between the two of you.

“You were out. She was rather lucky it was me who came to get her for a briefing and not Price.”

“Price would have knocked.”

“I did knock.” He growled and pressed his chest into Soap's back. “And you responded.”

“I didn’t say come in.”  You whined and he gave you a look, his eyes said it all.

“What did she say?” Soap asked.

“She moaned out my name like a bitch in heat.”

“Nhhh.” It was John who moaned out, his hand tightening around your waist.

“Yes, like that. Thank you for the example, Johnny.” Ghost huffed.

“Hey don’t blame me. She's the one that's milking the life out of me. Damn. Forgot how dirty talk gets her going.” John's voice was still rather strained while your cunt clenched around him. With a deep breath, he continued. “Still don’t know what this stache is.”

“It’s toys, she was making a joke about pegging you, Johnny.”

“Promise?”

“Joke?”

Soap and then you spoke at the same time. Soap turned to face you again. “I’m going to bring this up next time Ghosts out of town.” He gave you a serious look.

“Why when Ghosts on a mission?” You asked.

“‘Cause nothing can live up to him.” Soap leaned back and gave Ghost a grin. “Speaking of, you joining us?” Ghost didn’t reply, instead, he leaned away from Johnny for a moment and fished a bottle of lube out of the side table.

“You lost by the way.” You leaned in with a smug look on your face.

“Did not. This is- no- this is a draw." Before Soap could really get into the conversation, he paused, his breathed hitched and the hand on your thigh that was draped over him tightened. Ghost had lubricated two fingers and slowly started to circle Johnny's entrance.

"Wound up, aren't you? How long have the two of you been at this?"

"Um." You looked over to the clock on the bedside table. "About an hour, maybe two max?" You shrugged, unsure of when you really started.

"Two hours?" Soap choked out, his nails digging into you slightly. "Oh fuck." His eyes squeezed shut and his leg moved up ever so slightly to make it easier for Ghost to continue. Two fingers entered him and he buried his face into your shoulder.

"How are you doing there?" You whispered.

"Good, good." He choked as Ghost started to scissor him open.

"Think you can handle Simon's cock in you already?" You hummed out.

"I can handle anything."

"No, he needs more prep." Ghost overruled Soaps decision

"Mmm, if Simon says you need more prep then you need more prep. Try and relax more honey. Can you do that for us?" You cooed out and cupped his face with your hands.

"It's kind of hard to when you're warming my cock for two bloody hours. I'm sensitive."

"Come on McTavish. Where did that handle anything attitude go? If it's too much I can pull you-"

"-No, please. Just, fuck, I can relax. I can relax." True to his word, Soap took a deep breath and relaxed his body. His tense shoulders slacked and you could hear the slight wet sounds as Ghost started to finger fuck him.

"Mmm that's it, Johnny. Much better." Ghost's deep voice smiled in Soap's ear. Johnny's eyes were squeezed shut while his mouth gapped slightly ajar. Completely lost in the feeling of Ghost fingers.

"Ghost." Soap's moan was muffled by your shoulder while his dick twitched inside of you. Small movements that had you clenching down around him. "Fuck this is how I die." His groan had you laugh lightly, a smile beamed at Ghost.

"Too much darling?" Your voice was soft and had a slightly teasing tone to it but serious enough that if it was too much he knew to speak up.

"Don't even think about stopping." Over Johnny's shoulder, Ghost gave you a small nod and locked his eyes on you. Slowly you pulled Johnny's face up to meet your lips. A warm and passionate kiss which he groaned into as Ghost removed his fingers. A second later he ripped his lips away from yours, hands clawing into you as Simon pushed into him.

"That's it Johnny, slow and steady." Simon's voice was steady as his hand held onto Soap's leg, his knuckles occasionally brushing against your thigh which still rest there.

"Fuck, I've missed this." Johnny groaned as Ghost fully slotted himself inside of him. His hips pressed flush against Johnny's ass.

Seconds ticked by before Ghost pulled out almost the entire length only to snap his hips into the pair of you.

"Fuck!"

"Oh my god."

"That's it."

Simon let go of Johnny's thigh and found yours, an anchor point. He adjusted his body slightly and that was it. A kiss on John's shoulder was the only warning the pair of your received before he started to pull out and slam back into him. A steady and hard pace.  Every thrust had Johnny rocking his hips forward into you, fucking you.

"See there are benefits to us stealing your bed while you're gone." You moaned out, voice chopping as Simon continued to thrust forward.

"Yeah- oh fuck yes- like finding your best friend in bed with your girlfriend." Johnny smiled.

"Man that must be rough, in your own bed as well." You laughed.

"Christ." Ghost swore and slammed Johnny and by force, you, partially hard.

"You know-" You choked on your own words for a moment as the rounds of wet sounds mixed with the slapping of skin. "I think Ghost actually likes that idea?"

"Oh? Really? Maybe we should throw him a welcoming home party more often then eh?"

"Would you like that Simon? Whenever you come home to find the pair of us waiting for you?" Your voice managed to purr out as he fuck you hard, a brushing pace that had his fingers certainly leave marks on your thigh in the morning.

"Maybe I'll tie her up for you, edge her so she's all needy and pathetic when you get back."

"What- betrayal." You hissed at Soap whose laugh turned into a moan.

"You think you could handle her on your own Johnny boy?"

"For a while. At least until you get back. Nothing like having your cock against mine as we fuck that needy little cunt of hers."

"Always ready to stretch around us." Simon agreed and you choked out.

"Do I not get a say in this?"

"Come on love, don't act coy. We both know you love it." Soap grinned and you lightly slapped his chest. Your cunt squeezed down around him as you rolled your hips against him. Johnny's eyes closed in response and cut off any teasing.

"Fuck if you keep doing that I don't know how long I can keep going." He hissed.

"Your close?" Your voice had your smirk in it.

"Am now, fuck you have no idea how good the pair of you two feel."

"Yeah? Is Simon fucking you that good?"

"So good. I have no idea how you handle the pair of us 'cause he's got me so goddamn stuffed."

"What can I say? I do have a greedy little cunt don't I?" His eyes spanned open and his mouth gaped.

"Fuck Simon, right there." His head fell back against Ghost's shoulder while he both fucked himself back onto Ghost but forward into you. "Oh shit, oh fuck."

"Cum for us Johnny." Simon's slightly breathless voice whispered into his voice and he made sure to hit that sweet spot.

John pulled you as hard as he could against you. You could feel the way his cock pumped his seed into you. The way it twitched and throbbed.

"Fuck." His curse was long and drawn out as he came. Still, he continued to pump into you, emptying as much cum as he possibly could into you. Simon stopped his movements as John did, his hand losing from you as he melted into the bed.

"Damn." He breathed a slight laugh and pushed his hair back before he pulled himself from you. His seed was warm inside, slow to escape as he panted. Ghost allowed Soap a little more space to move about so that he was no longer on his side but on his back.

"Tapping out McTavish?"

"As much as I would love to continue I think I might die if my dick gets hard again." He laughed, wiping his face with his hand. "Wouldn't oppose to having someone's tits in my face though." He flashed the pair of you a grin which you rolled your eyes to.

"Would you like some of Johnny's famous tit worship?" You leaned over Soap's lap and batted your eyes at Ghost.

"Not tonight, he's all yours." Ghost slipped off the bed and started to move around to the end of the bed. With a shrug, you rolled over and pushed up. You mounted Soap and leaned over him. Quick to move, his hand found the middle of your back and pulled you forward so your chest was perfectly aligned with his face.

"God I love how hard these get." He pinched one causing a small whimper to leave your mouth. "Sorry, couldn't resist." He grinned before he buried his face into your breast. Lips latched onto your nipple, his hand started to grope and massage your free side.

The dip in the mattress was barely noticeable but you soon felt a rather large hand on your ass, giving it a good feel before the head of Ghost's cock poked at your entrance. Still partially filled with Johnny's seed and your own slick, Ghost was able to push in with ease.

A long rumble of his throat vibrated behind you. While Soap's dick was curved, perfect for hitting that sweet spot inside of you, Ghosts was impossibly large and thick. It filled your cunt to the very brim which caused the small amounts of cum to be pushed out.

Ghost's hand snaked around your front and wrapped it around your throat. Not squeezing it, just a grip. He pulled you back until your bare back met his now equal bare chest. He had removed his shirt. A small pop sound came when Soap let go of your breast, content to stare as Ghost started to fuck into you.

"That's fucking hot." Johnny hummed. He could see Ghost rather easily behind him and winked at the man. With his solid grip on you, Simon's pace was punishing. Desperate and unleashed.

"Gotta say the view is first class right here. Fuck look at those tits." Soaps eyes ran up and down your body and stopped at your cunt. He could just see the base of Simon's cock fuck up into you.

Your head rest back against Ghost and his arm wrapped around your midsection while he practically used you like a toy.

An idea popped into Soaps he'd and he placed his hand over your cunt. You managed to choke out his name a second before his thumb started to circle your clit.

"Johnny." Ghost groaned in your ear.

"Yeah, Ghost?"

"You're rubbing her clit aren't you?"

"Yes sir."

"Don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Clenching down around Ghost's cock, you couldn't help but feel slightly overwhelmed. Two layers of pleasure that had you practically shaking. Overwhelming sensations that had your body tight like a rubber band.

"Fuck I'm getting close." You mewled out, rocking your hips. You could feel Johnny press ever a bit harder, circling your clit so perfectly while Ghost kept up that perfect pace of his.

"Go ahead, let go for us." Simon pressed his lips on the side of your throat. Your moans were choked, whimpers of their names. Eyes shut, your voice broke off. Clenching down impossibly tight around Ghost he continued to fuck you through your high.

The grip on your throat loosened and Ghost gently helped you off Johnny and onto the bed. “Wasn’t too rough was I?” His voice was softer than usual, quiet but still as deep.

“Mmm, you're good. Just took it out of me, I’m good.” You rolled your head around on your neck. Cum and sweat covered not only your body but Simon's and Johnny's. “Feels weird to be empty.” You mumbled which caused John to let out a small chuckle while Simon disappeared.

“Come here, let me clean you up.” Something flashed across Soap's eyes as he spoke and you narrowed your brows at him. “Come sit.” He patted his checks with a grin and your brows raised. “Are you going to make me beg for it?” Soap shuffled a little and you rolled your eyes at him. However, you still obeyed his request. Crawling up over to him, you mounted his face and immediately he got to work.

Your oversensitive cunt had you gasp out and flinch away from his tongue. Not so quick to let you go, his hands immediately snapped to your thighs and found a solid grip. “Fuck you taste so good.” He moaned ad he licked away. Ghost's pre-cum mixed with your arousal danced on Soap's tongue.

“So sensitive.” You whimpered as you squirmed around.

“It's okay, I got you.” He paused only for a second and went back to town slurping at your juices.

“Shit, Soap, ahhh.” Your legs practically quivered.

“Oh fuck you're going to cum again aren’t you?” He smiled mischievously. “Do it for me.” You fell forward against the wall, one hand tangled in Soap's hair as you cried out. Johnny continued to lick at your clit as you sobbed, shaking and gasping out.

“Too. Much.” You managed to get out and he finally stopped, only doing small licks at the sides of your entrance.

“Couldn’t help myself.” A throat cleared behind you but you were too tired to acknowledge Ghost who had returned from his bathroom. You had no idea how long he had been behind you and frankly, you were too overstimulated and tired to care. Simon placed the glasses of water on the table with a couple of towels. A gasp left your lips in surprise when he leaned over and picked you up by the waist. John let go of your thighs and Simon put you down on the bed next to him.

You practically melted into Ghost’s touch. “Drink up.” He passed you a glass before he gave another to Johnny.

“What is this?” You blinked a few times at the liquid.

“Water.” The towel was warm when it touched your legs. Wet. Ghost kneeled next to the bed and slowly started to run it over you. Quiet settled over the three of you as Ghost cleaned you up and then did the same with Johnny. A yawn left your lips when Ghost finished, he put the towel over one arm and soon picked you up off the bed. A whine of displeasure left your now tired lips but you still latched onto the bathroom.

He carried you over to the bathroom and slowly put you onto your feet. “Do you want to wear something of mine or something of your own?” He asked and you let a small grunt as you steady yourself on the doorframe.

“Or nothing?”

“Nothing sounds good, go to bed. I can walk back.” You waved him off and grabbed the towel from his arm to toss in his hamper. Ghost gave you a nod and left you to your privacy.

When you finished up you slowly pushed open the bathroom door to see Ghost waiting there. His shirt was still missing but now had a pair of pyjama pants on. “Legs hurt.” You groaned and he was quick to pick you up and take you back to bed. He originally went to put you in the middle but you let out a small protest. “You go in the middle. We missed you.” Simeon didn’t reply but listened. He settles in between you and Soap. He pulled the covers up and the pair of you snuggled into the man.

“Hey Johnny?” You quietly spoke up.

“Yeah?” He looked at you over Ghost.

“Why the fuck does Ghost have such a better bed than us? Like, this thing is massive.” Ghost's chest deflated as he let out a big sigh.

“Probably cause of rank? Imagine how massive Price’s bed is.”

“Well, there's only one way to find out.” You paused at the end of your sentence. “Fuck Price.”

“Sneak into his room.” The pair of you spoke at the same time.

“It's because I was too tall to fit the default bed.” Ghost sighed but pulled the pair of you closer. “You're not going into Price’s room.” He looked over at Soap. “And your not fucking Price. Christ.”

“Aww, come on Ghost it was a joke. I don’t sleep with my COs.” You could practically feel Ghosts gaze on you. “I get fucked by them.”

“If you really want to know, you can ask Price tomorrow.” His lips blessed your forehead, he never could be annoyed at the pair of you. Even if he did act like he was. “For now, sleep.”

[cyberdragoninfinity]

doesn't placido's route literally have you kill yusei in front of aki and then he taunts her for it like "now you know how it is to lose the one you love"?? THAT WAS SO FUCKED

OK YEAH. YEAH. ABOUT THAT. SO THAT ROUTE IS ACTUALLY PRIMO/PLACIDO'S TAG FORCE 6 ROUTE. AND I THINK ABOUT IT EVERY GODDAMN DAY.

like. the Three Emperors arent even like Tier-1 characters in TF6, they dont get unique story routes like the core cast, they dont get a unique endroute picture like in Tag Force 5, they just get plugged into the same WRGP team ups for all of their heart events. it's actually extremely hard to find adequate archiving of their events cuz, again, theyre not 'main' characters in this game. BUT FORTUNATELY. I AM UNWELL. AND I PLAYED ALL THREE OF THEIR ROUTES. AND ARCHIVED ALL THE ENDINGS. I assumed the three of them were gonna have some kind of generic endgame due to this. AND BOY WAS I. GREATLY INCORRECT.

Primo's storyline DOES END WITH HIM JUST KILLING YUSEI DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF AKIZA. AND YOURE COMPLICIT IN IT.

LIKE. DUDE??!? IN THE FUNNY YUGIOH VIDEO GAME FOR THE PSP???!?! YUSEI IS DEAD DEAD, HE DOESNT COME BACK HERE. JESUS CHRIST.

and then as if that wasn't enough, IMMEDIATELY after that the Ark Cradle descends and you have to hop on over there with Primo. And then you get there and he basically tells you how Relieved and Excited He Is To Die, and You Should Be Too.

^this fucks me up so much. that little smile. guy who is SO excited to give his life for a cause that doesn't give a shit about him. also sorry about my deck name JDFJGDF

Anyway he also talks to you about being created from despair and being made to act as God's vessel of punishment and how the people of this timeline should accept the fate God ("""God""") has decreed for them and it's honestly i think it's all one of my absolute favorite Tag Force conversations, it says SO much about Primo's character and it deserves a dedicated post of its own sometime.

And then it ends with him being like "that woman is going to come here and she's going to be pissed and it's our job to guard the Ark Cradle now" which just presents, such an amazing and haunting concept in that regard. This idea of Akiza leading the charge of the Signers to avenge Yusei's death. my GOD.

it's so fucked. it makes me cuckoo bananas. why did they go so hard on this story route that isnt even for one of TF6's main characters. Bad Guy Wins AU REAL!!

[kapanbenernya]

Back 4 Blood -- It is Now Literally Left for Dead

As I have touched in this post, this is one of the games I still play, and for good reason. It has huge replayability, it's easy to pick up, it can fit all of my friends, and most importantly: it's fun. Yes you heard it right here folks, I like Back 4 Blood despite being aware of all it's faults and imperfections because it's still fun. And because of that, I will spend what free time I have to talk about this game and what I appreciate from it.

First, let's talk about the apocalypse

As we all know from the Left 4 Dead comparisons everyone throws around, the setting to Back 4 Blood is a plague apocalypse. Notice that I use the word "plague" instead of the straight "zombie" apocalypse because there are almost no zombie apocalypse in mass media anymore. Ever since the year 2010-something everyone just shied away from it like last month's fast fashion.

"LOOK AT HIM STILL USING CONVENTIONAL UNDEAD ZOMBIES! LOOK AT HOW MUCH OF A SIMPLETON HE IS!"

And with the traditional undead zombies declining in popularity, rose the new hotness that I can only describe as scientifically induced zombiefication, in which the "zombie" is caused by a scientific phenomenon like fungus, virus, bacterial infection, etc. Popular examples including 28 Days Later, The Walking Dead, and of course, Left 4 Dead. In the world of Back 4 Blood, the cause of the zombie mutations is an entity called the Worm which is said to proliferate in the waters and could mutate human flesh into all sorts of malformed abominations. And it's up to us, the cleaners of Fort Hope to thin their numbers and save the future. Or at least our group's future

But who is our group? And what are the Cleaners?

As mentioned before, we play as Cleaners. Essentially a ragtag group of survivors from Fort Hope sent out to execute missions such as community outreach, resupplying, and more often than not, blowing shit up. The characters available to us ranges from a soldier, a doctor, a delinquent, a prepper, two war veterans, and two nutjobs each with their own unique craziness. The variation is more than just salad dressing mind you, as each character comes with their own character and party skills. Such as the doctor that affects how well you can heal and how resistant the party is to long-term health damage, The prepper that can somehow turn the zombies into pinatas of ammo and grenades, and a young man whose only purpose is to annoy me every time he opens his fucking mouth.

"No seriously, Jesus Christ, just shut the fuck up Evangelo"

On top of the skills that comes with each unique character, you also have to build your own personal skill with the Skill Card system. It's essentially buffs in the form of cards that you form into a 15-card deck filled with multiple buffs and/or debuffs that will combine to fill a certain role within the team. The cards are unlocked via an in-game currency called copper (boy am I glad they didn't charge us micro-transactions for those) and you earn copper by playing the game. The system sounds pretty okay on paper, since you unlock your skills quite organically and slowly build yourself up as you play. But as you know things that sounds alright on paper might just be fairy farts in the real world, and the skill card system is no exception. The downside is that the skill cards are unlocked via packs that will randomly spawn on the shop. So if you're in a hurry to unlock certain cards, you can take a cactus up the arse and get fucked.

Wait. We've veered too much into gameplay territory now. Let me actually switch the topic to gameplay

It's no secret that the gameplay is very much similar to Left 4 Dead, so any attempt to explain the gameplay is a waste of time because everyone knows Left 4 Dead at this point. Its simple formula of "move from the starting point to the finish zone while dodging obstacles in the form of zombies" has been tried and tested for so many years now that it can almost vote. Attentive readers might have realized that I didn't put the words "killing zombies" in there because it wasn't really the main objective in L4D. They're more nuisance in the form of very bitey assholes, not unlike a teething baby that just learned to run.

"Yeah, not so tough now are you?"

Aside from them however there also the special infected that are so famous that they don't need an introduction. What I need to emphasize however is how good their designs are. I'm talking about each of them are so visually and audibly distinct, and how their roles are so synergistic with each other that they are still downright terrifying to face even with a tight 4 man group.

As the self-proclaimed "spiritual successor" of Left 4 Dead, and how the tagline for the game is "From the creators of Left 4 Dead", one would rightly assume that the game would at least maintain such quality. A thing that they unfortunately, did not manage to do with this game. Dishonorable mention goes to the special infected that can be very hard to discern unless the game spells it out for me. Not to mention that their roles aren't very distinct from one another that they all just blur out into "collective nuisance" for me. Overall, such a letdown from the people that made L4D.

Before we go to the final say, let me list the good things I really like from this game

Oh my god, it's the weapon system. The way the weapons handle, the customizations, the brutal melee weapons, the satisfying OOMPH some of the weapons have, and aiming down the sights? Good lord killing zombies haven't been this cathartic since COD Zombies. This is one of the reason why I think this game is still fun despite all it's shortcomings. The other reason? Nothing else except the fact that it's very much competent. It already has a satisfying gameplay loop that could carry the game by itself. All we need it just for the devs to keep this putrid ball of cadaver rolling.

And as we are now in the current future of 2024, we know that the Developers have pulled out like a couple of teenagers fucking on a risky day. This post by the Developers (almost exactly a year ago, by the way) has cemented the death of this game. The lack of community modding means that the game will stay the same as it was until the servers inevitably close. It truly has been the final nail in the undead coffin. The devs did say that they were gonna "be Back, bigger, bolder and better than ever!", but seeing how they treated this promising IP? Might as well get the phone ready to call CPS

In Brief

I'd still play it. No matter how much shit the community says about this game, I'd still play it given the chance. I still truly believe it's a competent game that just need a few fixes. I dare the developers to get off their ass and actually put community modding and/or map maker to the game. If that happens, I'm willing to bet one of my testicles that the game will re-flourish and we're going to start seeing a lot of new fan-made content and fixes it sorely needed.

But we will not get it of course. Not because the devs are lazy or incompetent, but I'm thinking it's because there is no money to be made in implementing it. We still remember the backlash about "Paid mods" back in 2015 so monetization is a very tricky issue. Apart from that, the devs will just look greedy by doing so. And trust me, Turtle Rock Studios cannot afford to tarnish their reputation any more than this. Not after Evolve

22/02/2024

[valleykarate]

Don't look at me. I'm broke. Or just don't look at me. //seth

SEEING THAT HE HAS A LACK OF THE REQUIRED BILLS IN HIS WALLET, seth snaps his wallet shut with an annoyed sigh. he slips it into the pocket of his leather jacket. he looks up at his cousin.

❝ ...hey, do you have..? ❞ seth asks, only for robby to shake his head.

❝ ...don't look at me. i'm broke. or just don't look at me. ❞ @taughtpain replies.

with a spark of dread creeping through his veins, seth looks down at his boxed-up meal in front of him, frowning as he glances at the bill, like it'll change the goddamn price of anything if he squints hard enough, trying to burn holes into the paper. nope. the numbers don't change, staring up at him in the face.

he supposes he & robby should have probably checked how much money the both of them had before heading out. they don't have enough money to foot a tip, let alone the $55 combined meal. he only has a $20. his credit card is with merrick right now, his cousin-figure racketing up god knows how many charges in the two hours since robby & seth started hanging out.

well, fucking shit.

❝ ...d&d? ❞ he mutters, low enough for only robby to hear across the table. he means dine & dash. a pause as he seriously considers that option very briefly, leaning more towards it as the seconds painfully tick by. their server will be back soon, wondering why they haven't paid the bill yet. blue eyes lift towards the black security camera mounted in the corner of the , mostly hidden. shit, again. that option just flew out the goddamn window.

the dread worsens.

chase would be having a fucking conniption fit right about now seeing this situation unfold in front of his eyes. maybe tomorrow, seth'll go to uncle bobby & ask him to be resolved of all his sins in the name of our lord, jesus christ & mary's little lamb, amen.

fuck. he's so stressed out right now.

the older lawrence cousin settles back in his seat, forcing his face smooth out to a relaxed expression, his body language only a touch tense. his mind is spinning, jumping through hoops to figure out what the fuck to do. ❝ ethan's going to kill me if i get you in trouble. ❞ he mutters, not doubting that for a second. he knows you're insanely overprotective. seth then suddenly shifts in his seat as a thought hits him over the head. ethan fucking wilson-keene. maybe he or robby could send out a text to him, get him here.

❝ wait. hold on. isn't your fiancé mega fucking rich? how the fuck do you- ❞ he cuts himself off as their server, nametag displaying , passes by the table. seth that him a million watt-smile that obviously flusters him as he carries a tray of food to other patrons who can fucking pay for their meals with no issue, then continues: ❝ -not have enough goddamn money for shit like this in your wallet? ❞ he hisses, eyeing the gigantic freaking ring on robby's finger like it's proof of the claim, & honestly, it kind of is. ethan's so disgustingly rich it made seth's brain practically melt the first time he saw you make a combined ( with ali, the blond decked out in a designer clothes that seth can't properly pronounce ) shopping spree rack up to $2,000+ in one hour, the blonde not at all bothered by the amount spent, you even less so, which is to say... something larger than not at all. seth it saw in-person. you're so goddamn nonchalant at the price of literally anything, it makes him wonder if you're even human sometimes. he thought it was kind of hot.

trying to not look as defeated as he currently feels, seth sighs heavily, already grabbing his phone from the table & unlocking it. ❝ fuck it. i'm gonna text him. ❞ even if he'll have to face your undoubted wrath of potentially putting robby in danger of getting thrown into big boy juvie since he's eighteen now, or an infraction on his record, or whatever. between those two options, with family loyalty sort of pushed aside for a moment, something he'll repent for later, seth would honestly sort of rather put robby in jail, because ETHAN IS ABSOLUTELY FUCKING TERRIFYING WHEN HE WANTS TO BE.

[cosmicoceanfic]

a word! uhhhhhhhh "loathe/loathes" maybe?

Hello! Sorry this is so late! I had to go to bed to up for work, and then actually be at work.

This was fun, because I don’t actually use this word in any of my active WIPs. This happened in the other ask I got, and that one was a little easier, but this one was hard because (at least up to the point I’m writing about) I don’t have any characters experiencing genuine loathing. Loathe is such a specific feeling to me: there’s nothing mild about it, and it’s hard to work your way back from, once you’re in it. So I’m afraid I had to crank it down a couple notches to a section from my “Clint, no longer the canonically most stable Avenger because this is MY town now, has a baby girl thrust upon him” AU, because I do so genuinely love it, and I keep running into roadblocks for it, and I wanted a little bit of the old girl (pretty literally: the bones for this fic date back to the Obama presidency) to see the light of day. So here is Clint Barton, who hasn’t seen his brother in a couple decades, reacting to him showing up on his doorstep (btw in this AU Laura is Clint and Barney’s kid sister):

He’d always been the better looking one. Clint’s no slouch, but at the end of the day, he’s always felt his Just Some Guy energy cancels out the relative attractiveness of his face. Barney had always had plenty of Just Some Guy energy, but something about his face kept him working just fine with the girls. It’s been twenty-five years since Clint’s seen him, and that wholesome Barton attractiveness has faded somewhat (his nose has definitely been broke a few times), some light stubble on his cheeks, but not so much that Clint can’t look into those green eyes and recognize the face of his older brother.

“Listen-“ Barney starts, holding up a hand.

Clint decks him.

It’s not the most mature response he’s got, but it’s the only one on the table.

Barney rears back, but only for a second, reaching out and popping Clint one good himself. Clint shoves at him and within seconds they’re on the ground grappling with each other. Clint’s got SHIELD training but Barney is fuckin’ scrappy and always has been. Clint gets him in a headlock but Barney grabs the lemonade bottle Clint had forgotten to put away and starts whacking him in the face with it repeatedly.

“Cut that the fuck out,” Clint snaps, trying to fend him off. “Don’t break my nose the way somebody broke yours, you fuckin’-“ Barney, purposely, Clint’s sure, gets him right in the nose. “Ow, fuckin’, alright, alright, truce-“ Clint releases him, edging back to rest against his kitchen cabinets. “You fuckin’ animal, Jesus, Barney, the fuck’s the matter with you-“

“The matter with me?” Barney wheezes, sprawled on the floor as he tries to stagger himself against Clint’s fridge. “You fuckin’ hit me first!”

“What, you really gonna sit there and say it wasn’t earned?”

“No, just, Christ, Clint.”

They lapse into sullen silence, breathing heavy.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Clint demands, sitting up a little better. “You grow a conscience after twenty five fuckin’ years?”

“I’m here because I’m here.”

“That bullshit ass excuse is not gonna fly with me, Barney.”

Barney leans his head back against the fridge.

“I travel,” he tells Clint. “It’s how I get by. I swing through, I do odd jobs, I go about my business. And I get to New York and it turns out their resident fuckin’ cryptid is Clint fuckin’ Barton.”

“So you need a couch to crash on? That’s it? You leave Laura and I behind with fuckin’ Pa and you think my couch is still crashable?”

“A couch won’t hurt but I got a shelter scoped out in the area so it’s not a necessity. I just-“ Barney spits a bit of blood on the floor. “I just wanted to see you, Clint, Jesus.”

[aeymii]

Even more hilariously, probably like half of the people he's killed were in self-defense incidents. Nagiko's just like "Bruh, those are rookie numbers, LMAO!" Having not only killed more in her travels, including some Junko and Mukuro variants, but also having met what she considers "Real villainous Komaedas". In a weird condescending way she kind of alleviates his guilt about being a Remnant.

"Nagito, buddy. Come the fuck on, you're not an irredeemable monster. Want to know what a real evil version of you looks like? You should have seen the tyrannical CEO version of us I stumbled upon a few months back. Jesus Christ, now THAT guy was a piece of shit."

Unfortunately for main Nagito, she only starts laughing harder after a pause when Protag!Nagito does some mental counting. And then is like "Hang on a minute, I think I've actually killed like two or three more people than he has in the service of the Future Foundation. So...does that make me more hardcore than my own Remnant counterpart?". The main one gives a glare like he's about to deck his protag self in the face.

SELF DEFENSE INCIDENTS LOL, I my pathetic son<33 THEY ARE ROOKIE NUMBERS!! TELL EM NAGIKO 🗣️‼️ Oooo Junko and Mukuro varients!! This is just wonderful!! HIS GUILTTTT NOOO MY BEAUTIFUL SON SHOULDN'T HAVE TO FEEL THAT WAYYYY-

HAHHAHA THAT WARMED MY HEART SO MUCH!! Yeah that tyrannical version is a real basta- HONESTY THAT IS JUST SO CUTE!! We stan Nagiko here and I wanna give my boy a hug!! 🩷🩷 YOOOOOOO THAT'S HILLARIOUS!! GET HIM REMNANT KOMAEDA AHAHHAHA- he was to pathetic to kill people and his literal PROTAGONIST COUNTERPART killed more than himmm!! NO WONDER HE'S SO ANGRY AAHAHAH, That's just crazy, I love this trio hehe :)

[thelovelybitten]

vera's first time watching south park -- season three (part 2)

i hate this character limit shit ugh but here u go <3

EPISODE 7:

lmao cartman just being a kid so cute

"BUT MEEEEEMM" never gets old

oh GOD SHELLY AS THE BABYSITTER this is about to be messy

OH FUCK SHE DECKED HIM INTO THE WALL

HOLY FUCK THEY IN THE WWE RN

NOT THE ULTRA WEDGIE

jesus CHRIST SHE JUST DOESN'T STOP

EYE. not the animal PORN GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE

CARTMAN BFFR U DON'T GIVE THAT MUCH CATNIP DSBFJKDSBKG

this man a pedophile... awks

jesus I can't with shelly she is BRUTAL

this song is...a choice.

I'm tryna feel bad for shelly but I can't

where the honk did all these cats come from

this cat subplot is so... weird I don't like it

okay. this ep was. a wild ride i'd say lol

EPISODE 8:

RANDY. JUST BC HE HANGS OUT WITH KYLE A WHOLE TON DOESN'T MEAN HE CAN'T BE BI OR SUMTH.... if they want to, they will. if the don't, they still besties. period.

BUTTERS' FIRST LINES <3 MY CHERISHED BABY BOY BJKSDFJBDSJBGDS HE IS HERE

pip kinda weird tho

what in tarnation is this game y'all

sharon pop AWF mom get KRUNK BITCH

the dads getting into the hot tub lmao

period gerald

these DADS I CAN'T DJBSFKJSDBGKB

gerald. just say ur into randy FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

this awk atmosphere YIKES

yo gerald WHAT THE FUCK DID U JUST SAY

oh wait this IS HAPPENING AT THE SAME TIME AS LAST EP

cool ref

these people MAD WEIRD

STAN BEING AN ICON AS ALWAYS

wait WHAT THE FUCK THE DADS RLY DID THAT ??!?!?!?!??@?!/1/1? BE FUCKING FOR REALLLLL

RANDY ?!?2/2!?2?1

the PHOTO OF STAN FUCKING KILLS ME

randy and gerald got tension y'all...

BUTTERS HE'S A SWEET BOY SOBBING

oh god THIS SONG DOES SUCK

STAN AND BUTTERS :')

stan getting into the game werk

mr.mackey getting KRUNKKKKKK

randy in his homophobic era :/

GASP

"we all a little gay" SO TRUE BESTIE SO TRUE

NOT BUTTERS BEING DRAFTED AS SOON AS KYLE GOT THERE

style just reigns supreme ig

EPISODE 9:

IKE IN HIS LITTLE SUIT <3333333

this is also linked to the last two eps

SLAY KENNY

kenny listening so good meanwhile ike is having a MELTDOWN

I love the kyle/kenny dynamic it's so different but so refreshing

they could be bomb friends (but not as close as style)

IKE :"((((((

Kenny is just so cute

NOT KENNY GETTING THE BELL A BUNCH OF TIMES FKFBJDSSDKJBGJSB

kenny and kyle sfljbsajfbk they are hilarious

not the kid :(

Kenny sitting with his eyes open LMAO

KENNY MAKING HIS SOAP CARVING ON THE SPOT

NOT KENNY GET OUTTA HERE

kyle threw kenny under the bus little bitch

NO KENNY SDGBDSJBDSKBBK :(((((((((((

KENNY SAVE THE KIDS RN POP OFF MY SON

"SHIT." - KENNY MCCORMICK

the bears helping save the jew scouts w kenny and the squirts <3

GO KENNY GOOOOOOOO

NO KENNY'S DEAD :'(((((

oh my goD GOOD EP

EPISODE 10:

HALLOWEEN EPISODEEE

MY TRIO (stan, kyle, Kenny) those are my kids

okay but cartman is me tho

ayo KENNY WOULD WIN THE CONTEST DON'T DOUBT MY SON

is this a scooby doo reference? weird but okay ig

liane laughing at her own son LMAO

BRO WHAT NOT KYLE'S GRANDMA :'((((((

Y'ALL SICK FOR THIS

I feel so bad for kyle oh my god :'(

god the literal trauma kyle would go through for this

that's on god kyle we show respect in this house

NO NOT THE DOG EATING KYLE'S GRANDMA

what THE HELL CARTMAN NO

KYLE AND STAN <3 their costumes are so cute WHAT

SHERIFF STANLEY AND THE KYLE CLOWN AFJLDNSNKSJDG

YO KENNY'S ROBOT COSTUME ATE DOWN WHAT THE FUCK

real question: what money did kenny use to get this costume

sir u have money for maybe a pack of gum bffr

anyways

I'm ignoring this pirate ghost storyline/necrophilia storyline :/ it's weird

NOT STAN AND KYLE DON'T HURT THEM

excuse me...what

OH GOD NOT KYLE'S GRANDMA BE VOMITED BACK UP

the seizure warning was not mentioned OWCH

wenSLAY EATING THE COSTUME CONTEST AGAIN... SHE DOESN'T MISS EVER

EPISODE 11:

what in the pokemon ripoff is this

"but MEEEEEM"

DON'T STEAL FROM KENNY CARTMAN

no KYLE he's gonna be called OUT

GERALD KINDA ATE

no bc I don't think kyle's gonna keep up with the fads tbh

and here we go

no kyle resist

NO NOT KENNY GETTING A SEIZURE

god I feel for kyle so much

kyle, baby boy, ur doing great

why they FACES LIKE THAT STOP

WENDY ALSO IN ON THIS OMG SHE'S SO CUTE

WHAT.

oh lord this is a dumpster fire

cringe

DAMN STAN IS LOST

they ALL LOST

parents ate

kyle babe HAHAHA

DEAD "YET" PLEASE

nah this was the worst kenny death I almost vomitted

EPISODE 12:

A SPELLING BEE? interesting

I was good at the spelling bee in grade 4 fun fact

liane she's so CUTE

"what's a homeschooled kid?" kyle PLEASE

ate down y'all are fucked now

cartman: :D

KYLE FINAL 3 LET'S GO KIDDO

what the FUCK IS THIS WORD

"what's your name?" "what's in a name?" kyle's whipped for rebecca

KYLE OMG A KING

it's two nerds in love :')

he tried his best

NOT THE BUBBLE

Y'ALL EVERYONE BE LOOKING AT HAMSTER BALL MARK ODDLY BUT CRAIG IS FUCKING PISSED OFF LNDFNDLSNGL

craig: stupid hamster looking ass i'mma smash you like a lawbreaker typa beat

now they ALL MAD

the kids are unhinged but they my kids

kyle singing outside rebecca's window that's fucking cute as shit bro

rebecca: :|

kyle wanting to ask rebecca to the school dance PLEASE SAY STAN IS INVITING WENDY PLEASE

KYLE AND REBECCA ARE QUITE CUTE OKAY PLS

SHE JUST GRABS HIM

KYLE AND REBECCA ARE PLAYING DOCTOR AWE

KYLE U GONNA GET UR BRAIN CUT OUT BOY

KYLE HAD THAT RIZZ but rebecca is brain dead, it's OKAY MY BOY

shit this monkey killed my son

I'M CRYING KYLE AND REBECCA ARE SO CUTE

OH MY GOD THEY GONNA KISS FDBDFSJKBSDGBKGFSBKGDSS

STOP THEYYYYYYYY OH MY GOD FDSKJBGKJSDBBGKB this is so cute it's cavity inducing

kyle being the cutest to rebecca but stan FORGETTING WENDY ???? SO FUCKING WEIRD STAN stop beating on kyle for his little crush

YO WHAT THE FRESH HELL REBECCA ??? she's a child hooker ???? kyle is screaming into his pillow

not kyle getting the shit beat outta him

NOW Y'ALL WANNA BE TEAM MARK ??? VERY WEIRD

this ep was funny okay I'll admit

EPISODE 13:

omg STARVIN' MARVIN' IS BACK LET'S GOOOOOO <3

future viv note: my notes on this episode did not save but it was very good tbh, marklar.

also the star wars refs were funny too

kyle also slayed

EPISODE 14:

also rewatching bc notes did not save

OH RIGHT THE WAR REENACTMENT

style vs cartman

SMORE'S SCHNAPPS

adults drunk af

MESSENGER BUTTERS <3

"PROSPERITAH" "CONFEDERITAH" "AUTHORITAH"

"GIVE UP, FATASS THERE'S OVER 100 NATIONAL GUARD GUYS HERE"

"SUCK MY ASS" LMAO

STYLE SLAYED

[sunwarmed-ash]

Alright! here's just a lil snip from the behemoth chapter.

Convin, Mature, Smoking

The last few hours(days) have been nothing short of a metric shit-ton to process. Not just for the deviant android, but for the two healing, and grieving officers too. The men are each taking their own space in different parts of Hank’s house, processing the latest series of confessions.  

Gavin’s outside, sitting in one of the three deck chairs that still, somehow, 10+ years later, remembers the shape of his ass. He isn’t sure if that makes him feel comforted or weird. He didn't spend that much time out here. And how many storms has Detroit had in that time that his imprint should have been wiped clear from the shitty wicker set they got second hand in ‘29. 

It doesn't make any sense. Not at all…

He's so busy over-analyzing how he feels about patio furniture he doesn't hear Connor come outside let alone saddle up beside him. 

“Where's Hank?” 

“Jesus phcking Christ!” Gavin startles, dropping his lit cigarette on the concrete slab but thankfully he didn’t fall out of his chair. 

Connor apologizes with a smirk before picking up the now out, white and orange tobacco stick. He relights it with the tip of his finger, almost like he was a goddamn cigarette lighter in a car, and hands it back over to Gavin. 

Gavin takes it with a nod of thanks, still trying to get his heart rate under control. “He uh, he said he wants to cook a shepherd's pie tonight. He just left for the grocery store.” 

“Oh, okay,” Connor says, eyeing the chair to Gavin’s left. “May I join you?”

Gavin couldnt see a reason why not.

“Sure.” 

Connor sits in the second wicker chair beside him, seemingly content to sit in the silence until Gavin wants to talk. That lasts another 30 or so seconds before Connor turns 45 degrees in his chair and points a finger at the cancer stick between Gavin’s teeth. 

“Can I try?”

Gavin looks at Connor like he's grown a second head. Try it? Why? Could he even taste it? Gavin considers it for another second before shrugging. Whatever, Connor isn’t human, it’s not like he can get addicted. Gavin wouldn't wish this expensive, nasty habit on anyone.

Assuming it's harmless enough, he holds out the half smoked stick. 

“Knock yourself out. Well, not literally, If you don't mind. Once was enough.”

Connor smirks before arm bumping Gavin. His long fingers reach out for the stick. He takes it between two fingers, the same way he’s seen Gavin do. Connor looks it over once more before lifting the stick to his lips and taking a mirrored pull.

Gavin swallows hard. Goddamn. Why does this phckin prick have to look so good doing literally everything? He crosses his leg over his knee before Connor can spot the way his dick is now reacting to such a mundane action. 

Gavin isn’t sure where the smoke goes when Connor inhales, but it's more than obvious every single part of his body disagreed with Connor’s choice. His pretty face twists up tight like he ate something sour, his mouth makes a strange cough/static sound as smoke plumes out of his lips and into the air, and he's shoving the lit stick away from himself and back to Gavin with a rapid shake of his head. 

“Yeah?” Gavin can’t help but laugh, taking the cigarette back before Connor’s hand drops it, “Whatcha think?” 

“Gavin that was fucking horrible! I don’t think any of my systems enjoyed that!”

Gavin laughs hard, so hard it makes his already inflamed lungs more pissed and it takes him a few minutes before he can fluidly take air into his lungs.

“I thought you couldn't taste things!”

“I can’t eat. I can taste when I want just fine, and now I’m curious what's wrong with your sense of taste to actively want to consume those!”

Gavin snorts, taking a drag and ashing on the pavement. 

“It's not about the taste,” Gavin explains, “Well, I guess sometimes I guess it can be. But mostly it's the nicotine hit and the ten minutes alone.” 

Gavin sees the moment Connor misinterprets his words and stops the android before he can move more than an inch. “Wasn't trying to get rid of you. Just the honest answer.”

Connor smiles, pacified by that, sitting more comfortably in the chair. 

“Ya know, its a shame you don't like ‘em. You look hot as fuck with a cigarette in your mouth.”

Connor looks at Gavin earnestly now, eyes scanning his face for any hint Gavin’s lying. He’s not. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Phckin' annoying, always gotta out do me.” 

Now Connor laughs, high and genuine. 

It's only the second time Gavin’s heard the sound, but it’s so fucking nice he wants to become a phckin' full time comedian just to be surrounded by it. But instead of deflecting with humor, he asks the hard question that's been rattling around in his head for days. 

“Hey. How are you doing?”

Connor’s smile halves and Gavin’s heart breaks. Stupid Gavin! Stupid!

But then, relief comes over Connor’s features as he relaxes more humanly into the chair. 

“Exhusted. I don’t know how humans do it.”

“Do what?”

“Emote and still have energy left for anything else. This month has consisted of the hardest series of tasks I’ve ever faced.”

Gavin chuckles ironically at that. 

“Well if it makes you feel better, I’d say 90% of the population doesn't have it figured out yet. Hank and I sure as shit don’t.”

“But I'm not… like you Gavin. Or Hank. Or any human.” 

Connor sounds actually disappointed by that. Which is ridiculous. Being human sucks. 

“Yeah. You're better.” Gavin says, earnestly. 

Connor blinks before looking at him, still disbelieving. 

“I’m afraid… I don't feel it.”

“Doubt is normal Con," Gavin shrugs before tossing the butt of his cigarette onto the table. He takes out another cigarette and lights it. "Human even." 

Connor graces him with another kind smile. Then he’s moving, out of the chair and close until they're inches apart. Connor takes the cigarette out of Gavin’s mouth before replacing it with his own lips. 

The kiss surprises Gavin but is not unwelcome. He let’s Connor direct how long they kiss for, which isn't long, but Gavin still savors every moment of it. 

“Thank you,” Connor smiles, before putting the cigarette right back where he found it. 

HEY

We making progress with the last chapter, but it's the LAST CHAPTER so... it's gonna be big and dense with plot, and therefore, take a bit longer until its ready to post :(

But I wrote a scene that amused me and I kinda wanna share it.

[pepprs]

the renovation starts tmrrw (LOL) and i woke up from a dream abt it crying. awesome

[mrs-dr-reid]

My Personal Bucky Barnes Headcanons

Part 1/?

He’s stupidly good at hide and seek. So much so that you have to buy a metal detector, because he can literally go unfound for a week and a half because of his “ghost of HYDRA” training

He was genuinely terrified of microwaves when he first came back. Because “why is it beeping at me, Y/N? What do you mean the food is ready?! It’s only been two minutes, I don’t understand!!!”

He hoards Girl Scout cookies and stashes them in the weirdest places. You move the couch to dust behind it and find 6 boxes of Tag-Alongs, you’re restocking the linen closet and find 4 boxes of Do-Si-Dos behind the good towels, and you almost have a heart attack when you open the hatch to your attic to grab the Christmas decorations and 14 boxes of Thin Mints fall out

He takes you out dancing every Friday night when he can, especially if he can find Throwback Sockhop Nights near you guys and you can get all decked out in 40s fashion and make an evening of it

For a while he was really self conscious about his metal arm and only ever wore long sleeves and gloves, but the longer he’s with you the more his confidence goes up, and eventually he’s confident enough to go topless at the beach (which is a good thing for the both of you *wink wonk*)

He loves karaoke. If you guys are out with the team at a bar and there’s a karaoke machine, you bet your ass he’s going over there and absolutely KILLING whatever Frank Sinatra song he can find. One time he even got you to perform “Somethin’ Stupid” with him

He either drives like a maniac or a grandpa. There’s no in between. You’re either massaging your temples because he’s driving fifteen under the speed limit, or you’re white-knuckling the “Oh Shit Handle” because “JESUS CHRIST, JAMES, WE ARE NOT IN A CAR CHASE, WHY ARE YOU GOING SO FAST?!!?!?”

His table manners were ATROCIOUS when he first met you. Since he had limited social interaction for 70+ years, he would eat everything with his fingers and a frickin tactical knife and chew like a goddamn llama. After months of work, he eats with actual utensils and chews like a normal person now

He taught himself how to crochet when he was bored out of his mind on a stakeout once, and now y’all’s house is littered with little animals he made and pattern books. Your favorite is the little turtle he made that’s wearing the Cap uniform and has a shell that looks like the shield while he’s partial to the pigeon he purposely added Sam’s headgear to

Peter gets him hooked on Star Wars, and now they have lightsaber duels around the compound all the time (because of COURSE Tony helped them make functioning lightsabers. Peter’s is blue and Bucky’s yellow)

Much like his best buddy Steve Rogers, he’s a gentleman to a fault. Always gives you his arm when you’re walking anywhere, opens doors for you, pulls chairs out for you when you go out to eat, and is constantly kissing the back of your hand

He’s very wary of trains when he first comes back because of the accident, but after some time and “exposure therapy” (aka making him take the train with you to various places) he gets over it

You buy him a box set of all the “Lord of the Rings” books for his birthday, and he cruises through all of them in about a month, then he makes you marathon the movies with him

He’s a gigantic cuddle monster. If he had a say, he’d just become a blanket burrito for the rest of his life, and cocoon you in his pile of blankets for the rest of yours. If he can hold you as close as he can while watching cheesy romcoms, he’s happy

He gets really into laser tag and paintball, because why wouldn’t he use his assassin training for something fun and harmless as a final “fuck you” to HYDRA? The only problem is that he gets too good at it and nobody wants to play with him, so now he just goes to random arenas where no one knows who he is and destroys a bunch of teenagers for shits and giggles

He accidentally stumbles upon bullet journaling, and it becomes his entire personality for a month and a half. He’s a lot more casual about it now, mainly because he was just so excited to find something that would help him get all of his thoughts no matter the subject material out of his head and onto paper. He used to go all out with very specific themes for his journals, but now he just says “this month my journal is green, next month, perhaps it will be blue”

He overreacts to jump scares. He can’t handle them. Horror games, scary movies, spooky tv shows, you name it. He can’t do them. So obviously Sam exploits the hell out of that and scares the shit out of him whenever he can

He gets really into Animal Crossing. Like… REALLY into Animal Crossing. He makes his little character look exactly like him minus the metal arm, curates the cutest little outfits once he gets his mits on a wand, cycles through all of the villagers until he gets a collection of them that remind him of all of his friends and you, makes his island look like if the Compound was a college campus, and completes the whole musuem in the shortest amount of time possible

[versegm]

Literally Guda-Castoria-Oberon have the most complicated relationship on earth because like. They care for each other so much. They resent each other so much.

In one hand, they're buddies! They hang out and have fun! They're partners in crime! They hide each other's secrets and help Castoria break into the theater to go home at night and make false resumes so Oberon can get job interviews! They can be vulnerable to each others in ways they can't with other people because they're the only ones who get the very specific feelings of isolation that comes with being what they are even if they never speak out loud of their problems.

But on the other hand. See above. Guda is the living proof that magic could be real, which means that Castoria and Oberon are back to figuring out what the fuck is their problems.

Similarly Oberon being like this in this specific theater might be a hint that there's something more going on here and that Guda might find the passageway to isekai back at long fucking last, so they're even less inclined to just Move On And Get A Normal Life.

Castoria is fucking enraged that Guda is willing to give up a world where people cared enough to look for them when they went missing, and even MORE enraged that the world Guda wants to go back to is one that is so dangerous and fucked up that Guda had to be wrapped into a person unable to live in a time of peace to survive. Like dude I've seen your scars I know you almost died multiple times why do you want to go back what sort of duty could bind you so jesus FUCKING christ.

They're best friend they chill together they truly care for one another. But one time Guda gently hints like "heeey soooo just fyi if I were to disappear under mysterious circumstances you guys are free to take my home and my stuff haha" and this is what breaks the fragile peace they've got going on Castoria and Oberon just fucking deck them how dare you how fucking DARE you say that kind of shit how DARE you be so willing to throw away a peaceful life.

the funniest thing about that theater au to me is that castoria is technically the most normal one of the trio and she is 50/50 on whether she's a changeling or if she just has undiagnosed autism cuz there certainly is something about her that sets her apart from most people in a way no one can really explain & she Really Strongly Dislike the feeling of iron on her skin. However she also has 0% trust in the medical industry so guess who is never going to find out.

[sluttywonwoo]

adante, andante || j.ww x reader

Summary: when in greece… you lose your virginity to your best friend?? that’s how the saying goes, right??? (based off of the song andante, andante from mamma mia! here we go again)

Warnings: swearing, smut

Word Count: 3.1k

Masterlist

Waves lapped at the side of the boat gently as it rocked on the salty Mediterranean Sea, tugging at its anchor deep below the surface. The blazing sun was warming everything it touched, you included, and if it wasn’t for what was happening on top of the boat right now it probably would have lulled you to sleep a long time ago.

Wonwoo was laying in between your legs, leaving wistful kisses along your neck and collarbone. You moaned lowly and turned your head to the side to give him more access as he continued to explore your body with his mouth and hands. He pulled at your bikini straps with his teeth playfully as you tangled your hands in his still-damp curls.

“Wonwoo,” you panted breathlessly, not wanting to stop but knowing you had to.

“Hm?” He looked up eagerly, lips pinker than usual, warm brown eyes darker than you’d ever seen them.

“I- you know I’m a virgin, right?”

Your best friend swallowed and then nodded hesitantly. “Shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… I should’ve realized.”

You weren’t quite sure what to say. “I, um, just thought you should know.”

He nodded again and wiped his hands on his swim trunks nervously. “Yeah, no thanks for telling me. I was being stupid I shouldn’t have-“

“No, I liked it,” you blurted, perhaps a little too quickly.

Wonwoo chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, looking you up and down. You noted with a hint of a smile how even though his hair was wet, curls still stuck out in the back.

“I liked it too.”

“We… don’t have to stop,” you said softly.

Wonwoo raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise at the offer. “Are you sure?”

“Only if you want to.”

His eyes darkened and he grinned, suddenly much more confident than he had been a few moments ago.  “Oh, I want to.”

You smiled and lounged back on the deck as he leaned forward over you and pressed his lips to yours once again. He tasted like salt and champagne, with just a hint of orange juice. An odd combination, but addicting nonetheless.

You wondered if the mimosas you had shared earlier lingered on your lips too, or if the salt water overpowered it and had erased any trace of the fruity drinks.

Wonwoo thrust his hips up against you ever so slightly and you whined into another kiss, silently begging him to do it again. It wasn’t much, but the tiny bit of friction the movement did offer was delicious and you needed more of it.

As if he could read your mind, he repeated the motion, deeper this time so that the two of you were flush against each other. The only thing that separated you for that brief moment was the fabric of your swimsuits.

You could feel him through his shorts, already half hard. You ached to touch him, to make him feel good, but nerves held you back. You’d never done any of this after all- well you’d tried blowing your ex-boyfriend once in a parking lot after a movie, but you choked. Literally. You had been completely unprepared and ended up nearly throwing up on his dick after going too far, too fast. After that, you swore you’d never try it ever again, but now your mouth was watering at the thought of having Wonwoo in your mouth. Still, you weren’t sure if you had the courage.

“Fuck.”

“What is it, love?” Wonwoo asked, lifting his head. His eyes still held that same intensity, but his expression betrayed a touch of concern.

“Keep doing that,” you gasped.

“What, this?” he asked and thrust toward you again.

“Yes.”

Wonwoo chuckled.

“What?”

“Nothing!”

“No, why are you laughing?” You pouted.

“Because we’re just- I mean we’re dry humping, essentially,” he explained. “You haven’t seen anything yet, baby.” He reached a hand behind your back and pulled the remaining string that was holding your bikini top up loose. “I mean, if I’m making you feel this good now, imagine what I can do when I’m actually touching you.”

Somewhere along the line your best friend’s goofy demeanor had fallen away and been replaced with this cocky attitude and you didn’t mind one bit.

You let the hand that was still holding your bikini to your chest fall to the side, and with it the top.

“Jesus Christ,” Wonwoo mumbled to himself as he stared.

You rolled your eyes. “C’mon, you’ve seen boobs before.”

“Not yours.”

You wanted to roll your eyes again, ask him how often that line worked on other girls, but truth be told it was working like a fucking charm on you. You had to look away and bite your lip to keep from smiling like an idiot.

Wonwoo reached out and trailed a finger down your now-exposed chest in awe. He brought his hand back up and ever so lightly brushed the tip of his thumb over one of your nipples, repeating the motion with more pressure when you moaned his name.

His breath caught in his throat as your nipples perked under his fingers, pinching them gently. He lowered his head down to your chest and replaced one of the hands on your tits with his mouth.

You whimpered and arched up toward him as he nipped at your sensitive skin with his teeth, sending tingles down your spine.

You had never been touched like this by anybody. You’d given yourself a hand (or rather, a couple of fingers) before, of course, but it was nothing compared to this.

Wonwoo’s hands traveled down to your waist where the hem of your bathing suit bottoms rested on your hips. He tugged at them impatiently.

“Lift up for me, baby,” he ordered softly.

You did as you were told and let him take them off. He twirled them around on a finger, smirking at you before tossing them off to the side.

“Idiot,” you scoffed.

“You know you love me.”

“Yeah, I do.”

He paused for a second, almost like he was surprised by your answer, but shook it off. His gaze traveled down your body to between your legs and locked there.

“Shit, y/n,” he gulped.

“What? What is it?” you asked nervously, hoping he wasn’t seeing something he didn’t like. Maybe not all pussies looked like that- but no, you’d watched porn before. That couldn’t be it. “Wonwoo?” you tried again, nudging him with your knee.

“Sorry.” He blinked and looked back up at you. “You just, you’re really…”

“Use your words, Wonwoo,” you teased.

“I really wanna taste you,” he admitted weakly, then cleared his throat to compose himself. “But we can do that another time. I don’t want to push you, especially since it’s your first time.”

You just nodded along as his words echoed in your head.

I really wanna taste you.

Another time.

He’d want to do this again? He’d want you again?

“I’m gonna start with two fingers, okay?”

Wonwoo’s voice snapped you out of your daze and you focused back in on him holding his middle and ring finger up for you to see.

“Okay.” Your voice wavered as you spoke.

“I’ll go slow,” he promised.

You stared at the clouds above you and took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You flinched when you felt him touch you for the first time. He froze and looked back up at your face to gauge your reaction.

“Sorry,” you whispered hoarsely.

“Don’t apologize,” he chuckled. “Fuck, y/n, you’re so wet,” he said and held up his hand so that you could see your own arousal glistening on his fingers in the sunlight.

You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. “I’m sorry!”

“What did I just say about apologizing?” “S-” Wonwoo glared at you, knowing you were about to apologize for apologizing. “Force of habit,” you mumbled.

“Never apologize for being turned on. It’s hot,” he said and brought his fingers up to his mouth. You thought back to a few seconds ago when he said he was desperate to taste you and watched as he licked your wetness off of his hand. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

“What did you just say about apologizing?” you mocked, unable to say anything else about the comment he just made.

He rolled his eyes at you like he always did, but positioned his hand at your entrance anyway. He leaned down to kiss you again as he finally slid the two fingers into you. You moaned in relief at the feeling.

Wonwoo kept his fingers in place, letting you adjust to having them inside of you. You kind of wanted him to keep them there forever, not moving, just like they were, but you knew he was getting impatient too.

You moved your hips a little, signaling him to move as well and he was happy to oblige. He went slow, like he had promised, moving his fingers in a “come hither” motion.

“Fuck,” you gasped and let your head fall back. “Fuck, Wonwoo, please.”

“Please what?”

“Please…” you trailed off, your thoughts too jumbled to form a coherent sentence.

Your best friend took mercy on you and curled his fingers up further, pushing into you all the way to his knuckles. You cried out when he brushed against your g-spot for the first time and clenched your hands by your sides, mumbling profanities under your breath.

He praised you as he helped you fall apart, your name tumbling from his lips followed by ‘good girl’.

His fingers were definitely bigger than yours, longer too, and you wondered to yourself why the two of you hadn’t started doing this earlier.

You opened your eyes briefly to look at his face, flushed pink, brows furrowed in concentration. His eyes were darker than you had ever seen them, nearly black like the sea at dusk, a striking antithesis to the dazzling blue ocean beneath you.

“Wonwoo, wait,” you panted and reached out for the hand that wasn’t currently inside of you.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No, no it’s not that,” you stammered as you tried to catch your breath. “I just,” you paused, suddenly embarrassed. “I’m just close.”

“Oh.” His eyes widened with realization. “So did you want me to keep going or-”

You shook your head. “I want you.”

Wonwoo nodded, swallowed nervously, and pulled his fingers out of you slowly. He pushed himself up into a kneeling position and shimmied out of his swim shorts.

It was your turn to stare. You’d never seen your best friend naked before. To be fair, the boy was shirtless around you all the time, but that wasn’t the same as being butt-ass naked in front of you like he was now.

There were those butterflies again, fluttering around in your chest and stomach relentlessly. Something about the way Wonwoo was looking at you, something about the intimacy of the moment made your heart skip a beat.

You had never really let yourself think about how, uhm… well-off your best friend was, but now that his dick was literally staring you in the face you knew your estimate would have been way off anyway. Wonwoo always talked a big game, but you didn’t think he’d actually have the capability to back it up.

“My eyes are up here,” Wonwoo teased, making heat rush to your face. He lowered himself back over you with a smirk and pushed your hair out of your face delicately. “Are you sure about this?”

You nodded. “I’m sure if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure if you’re sure,” he repeated and grinned.

“Just do it already,” you groaned and rolled your eyes.

“Wow, so romantic,” he scoffed as he lined himself up. “Are you ready?”

You nodded again, suddenly overcome with nerves. You’d been doing so well, why were you freaking out now? You took a deep breath and reminded yourself that you trusted Wonwoo more than anyone you knew, he was your best friend and would never do anything to hurt you. You didn’t want to experience this with anyone else.

“I’m a little nervous,” you admitted. “Can you go slow?” Like before?

His eyes softened at your request and he nodded. “I’ll go as slow as you want, y/n. We can stop whenever. Just tell me what you need.”

You tensed, braced yourself for the stretch- for the pain you’d heard about all your life, but it never came. He pushed himself into you at an agonizing pace, pausing every inch or so to give you time to get used to the feeling. The sensation was new, but it wasn’t bad. Your body felt warm all over and the only way to describe what you were feeling was full.

Wonwoo’s head fell back and he cursed, hips jerking instinctively. You squeaked out a sound you didn’t know you were capable of making and laughed.

“Fuck, sorry,” he apologized.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said breathlessly, smiling up at your best friend reassuringly.

“You okay?”

“Never better.”

“Are you hurting?” he pressed, rubbing his thumb along your cheek.

“No, feels good.”

“You’ll tell me if it doesn’t, right?”

“Yes, Wonwoo,” you sighed impatiently. “Less talking, more fucking.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “As you wish.”

You groaned. “Don’t go all Princess Bride on me while we’re having sex, I’m already turned on enough.”

“Get used to disappointment.”

You pursed your lips and turned your head to the side to keep from laughing. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. He retaliated by leaning down and peppering kisses all over your face and neck, breaking your resolve.

“Okay, okay!” you cried.

“There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world,” he whispered in between kisses. “It would be a pity to damage yours.”

“You’re not even using context! How many fucking times have you seen this movie?”

He shrugged. “Too many to count.”

“Oh, so not very many then?”

“Fuck you!”

“You already are.”

“You get on my fucking nerves,” he growled.

“What are you gonna do about it?” you challenged, biting your bottom lip.

“I think you already know the answer to that.” He clenched his jaw and put a hand on your thigh to steady himself. “Are you good to keep going?”

“God, yes. Please move.”

“All you had to do was ask nicely, baby.”

Despite his cockiness he set a painstaking pace. He thrust into you gently, gauging your reaction each time. Lust and patience were both reflected in his eyes, wrestling for control. You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. He was so fucking beautiful and he was yours, if but for a moment.

“Is this alright?” he asked in a strained voice.

You wanted to tell him to go faster, beg him to fuck you harder, but the words wouldn’t come. You were already too far gone to string together thoughts, let alone coherent sentences.

“Is that a yes?”

You managed to lift your arm and give him a thumbs up.

“I can slow down if you want,” he offered.

“No!” you choked out desperately.

“Do you want me… to go faster?”

“P-please.”

“Fuck, okay, I can do that,” he said, not sounding entirely confident about it.

Your mouth fell open and your eyes rolled back as he gradually built momentum until he was just shy of railing you like a pornstar.  

“Fuck, y/n, your cunt is so goddamn tight.”

You thought you were going to have a stroke hearing the filthy words that were coming out of your best friend’s mouth, and felt yourself clench around his cock.

“Are you close?” Wonwoo panted as his thrusts started getting sloppier.

He obviously wanted you to finish first, but you could tell he was already teetering on the edge. His muscles were taut with restraint and sweat gathered on his brow as he concentrated on holding off.

With a shaky hand he used his thumb to massage your clit, applying just enough pressure to drive you crazy.

“Yes, yes, yes, Wonwoo, I’m so close- I’m-I’m gonna cum,” you whined, feeling yourself start to tip over the edge.

But just before you could, Wonwoo pulled out and finished on your stomach with a moan of your name as streaks of white painted your skin.

He looked so pretty getting off like that that you couldn’t even be mad. The way his whole body tensed in anticipation and his face scrunched up in pleasure, the way his mouth fell open and his bottom lip trembled as he lost himself … you’d be replaying the image in your head for days.

Wonwoo hadn’t even caught his breath before his attention was back on you. He used the same two fingers from before to replace his dick and curled them up towards your g-spot, hitting it over and over and over again until you were falling apart.

Your thighs tightened around Wonwoo’s arm as you came on his fingers and begged him not to stop.

When you came down from your high it took you a second just to remember your own name, not to mention where the fuck you were.

“I’m so sorry,” Wonwoo blurted out. “It was your first time you should’ve cum first, but then you said my name and I couldn’t-”

“Wonwoo, it’s fine,” you assured him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “It was perfect.”

“No it wasn’t! I wanted it to be special for you.”

“How many people get to lose their virginity on a boat in Greece to their best friend? Sounds pretty special to me.”

“I guess,” he mumbled.

You rolled your eyes. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll let you make me cum as many times as you want tonight.”

“You’ll have to be quiet,” he reminded you. “Do you think you can do that?”

You had almost forgotten about Jihoon, Seokmin, and your other friends waiting for you back at the resort. They had all made a last-minute decision not to do the boat trip, electing instead to spend the day by the pool. You and Wonwoo were the only ones too stubborn to cancel the reservation.

It made you wonder what would have happened if the others hadn’t stayed back. If you and Wonwoo weren’t alone on the boat, would you have ever slept together? Would another opportunity have come up, or would you have spent the rest of your life as best friends and nothing more? Were you anything more now?

“Do you think they’ll know?” you asked as pulled your bikini bottoms back on.

“That we slept together?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“If they don’t figure it out when we get back, I’m sure they’ll get the hint by tomorrow morning.”

“And why’s that?” You raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Hotel walls are notoriously thin.”

happy birthday bby <3 lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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