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viennakarma · 11 months ago

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Everything I Wanted I.

LESTAPPEN X READER (Part 1)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 7.1k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. I know I said it was a oneshot, but the thing got out of hand, and I had to split it in half. Soon there will be a part 2! English is not my first language, so please ignore any mistake!

Find me on Twitter!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“They’re not friends, you understand? They’re rivals, and that’s all they’ll ever be.”

You stand, hugging your helmet firmly against your chest, your dad’s words louder than the ringing in your ear from the way he slapped the side of your head. You were 9 and it was your first time competing in a karting competition. You tried to befriend the other kids your age, but as soon as your dad called you away, fuming, you knew it was a mistake.

You followed your dad’s orders, and didn’t talk to any of the boys again. Max was already cold towards you, so he pretty much ignored your existence. But Charles was more talkative, and as you stopped answering him, he became taunting, annoying, but you didn’t fall behind, you used to clap back at him with the same intensity.

Sometimes you eavesdropped on their conversations, initially it wasn’t intentional, but they were always complaining about you, calling you names, and you realized your dad was right, they would never see you as a friend or equal, only as a rival.

One day you’re walking by when you hear your name in their conversation.

“Nah, don’t worry about Y/N,” Max shrugged, his accent thick, as he pointed to the side of his temple “she’s a little slow, but maybe she’ll catch up.”

You stood there, his words echoing in your head, she’s a little slow, that was a kind way to call you stupid, which, compared to the way your father called you that many times, it was much sweeter. You shouldn’t have let that get to your head, specially said that way. But then again, you were 11, and you kept hearing those words again and again in your head. You never considered yourself dumb, your grades in school were average, and whenever you had time off of karting to study for your exams, your grades became even better, a little above average.

And despite knowing that, after going back home after the competition, you spent the whole Saturday at the local library, studying everything you could find on motorsports and Formula One. You lent books on strategy, history, and even mechanics. Every spare time you had, you spent reading those books, or lending others. You didn’t want to be slow as they had called you.

After that, you stopped talking to Max completely.

“This is a waste!” Your dad shouted, and you flinched, taking a discreet step back, away from him, trying to avoid him getting physical.

You had argued with him, which made him more furious. You tried to tell him it wasn’t your fault, you were just as good at racing as everyone else, maybe better, but no one was willing to give a girl a chance. It made him even angrier.

“You had one job! You get into F4 on your first try!”

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t your fault. That they weren’t willing to give a girl a chance, even if you were better than half of the boys who made it to F4. But your dad didn’t care about any of it, he wanted you to succeed or nothing. He used to always say that anything below first place is failure.

So he decided you, at 14, weren’t worth the money he spent on karting. And he simply left. Making peace with the fact that your dad never saw you as his kid, but more like an investment, was hard.

“You’re never going to be a Formula 1 champion.” Was the last thing he said to you, before dropping you at your mom’s to never come back.

Living with your mom ever since your dad gave you up was something else. She had lost everything after the divorce, thanks to a prenup she had naively signed without knowing anything about it. So when you moved in with her, you noticed how the house was smaller than your dad’s, you two slept in the single room that was there. Your mom worked two jobs living paycheck to paycheck, and you barely saw her. But she was kind, comforting.

You soon realized that she wouldn’t be able to provide for your karting career. So you lied, you told her your dad was still paying for the karting, and you found two part time jobs to pay for racing. You mom worked so much, she didn’t notice your absence in the afternoons, when you went to work in an auto repair shop. Sometimes, on the rare occasions she was off work in the afternoons, you lied and told her you were out with friends, or studying in the library or even doing extracurriculars. You had the best intentions, you used to tell yourself at night whenever you laid awake, you knew she would blame herself or even work herself to death to provide for you.

The entirety of the next year was a constant struggle, and you worked, and scrapped and lied your way through the entire karting competition. It was one of your last chances to get into F4, and you weren’t sure you could live another year that way, without a sponsor.

When the competition ended, you were second place overall. Your kart had problems during the race and you were sad that it affected your performance in a race you could’ve won.

You walked closer as you saw a few of the other boys gathering around some adults, you eyed them curiously. As soon as you noticed who they were, you swallowed. They were probably scouts, it was very common in finals of these competitions, you were used to it. You also were used to being ignored by all of them scouts. You had tried many times before to make connections and make yourself known, maybe even meeting a potential sponsor, but they always ignored you. They weren’t interested in a girl, they didn’t care about a woman in motorsports. Your only hope was that one day you would meet a female scout and she would see your potential.

But meanwhile, there were only men, and they didn’t give two fucks about you. So you didn’t even get close enough to join, you heard Charles and Max talking with them, and you just turned around, going back to your kart.

You pulled a few tools from your backpack, working to fix the difficulties you felt during the race.

“What are you doing?” A man approached you, crouching close to watch your work. You briefly looked up, the guy was wearing sunglasses and a cap, just a normal guy, looking like someone’s dad.

“I’m fixing my steering wheel, it was a bit stuck during the race so I had to double the force used to be able to make it work,” you explained, and he nodded.

“You finished second, right? Why are you here by yourself?” The man asked.

“The other kids don’t like me very much. And they’re talking to the scouts,” you shrugged, trying not to think about all the opportunities they would get and you wouldn’t.

“You should be there, no? Meeting scouts is important for your career.”

“They’re not very interested in a girl racer. Believe me, I know.” You muttered, finishing with the steering wheel, testing to see if it was working all right. You turned, fixing your left rear tyre. The tyre wasn’t responding very well to the braking, “besides, my kart won’t fix itself, right? Look, you see how this tyre is slower to respond to my braking? It messed up with my balance during the race. I could have won.”

“Shouldn’t you take your kart somewhere to get it fixed?” The man asked, helping you unscrew the tyre.

“Can’t afford it,” you said, “I’m saving to try and get into F4, so I can’t spare any money on this one.”

You weren’t usually this talkative with new people, mostly keeping to yourself. But maybe you were missing a grownup figure in your life since your dad had dipped and your mom was always busy. And that man sounded really interested in your stuff, so it felt natural explaining to him.

“So, no one sponsoring you?” He asked, which made you look at him again, hesitantly.

“No, uh, I had one but he dropped me last year” you said, leaving out that part that it was your dad.

“You know who I am?” The man asked and you looked at him, shaking your head.

“Someone’s dad? I mean, I haven’t been introduced to all the kids and their parents yet, but you’re kinda familiar, so-” As you were babbling and trying to explain, he took off the cap and sunglasses, and you immediately recognized him, “oh my god!”

“Shh, shh” he silenced you, putting the disguise back.

“You’re Kimi Raikkonen!” You whispered, and he nodded.

“I’ll be your new sponsor, eh? What do you say?”

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," he nodded.

"How do you know I'm good enough for a sponsorship?" You asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, are you good enough for a sponsorship?" He asked. He had been keeping an eye out at that very category, and you had caught his attention as seemingly smart and emotionally controlled with the kart.

"I'm the best of the bunch," you smiled at him and you won him over with that answer.

Kimi became your lifeline, in a way. His family was quick to embrace you in an affectionate way you would’ve never expected of them. They invited you for their little New Year’s party, and you eventually told everything about your life to Kimi. His wife Minttu had also taken you as one of her own and their kids liked you a lot.

Under Minttu’s suggestion, Kimi also enrolled you in language classes, so besides English, you spent the next years learning French and Spanish, and you also caught a little Finnish from being so close to them.

You kept pushing your way up from F4 to F3 and so on, but instead of climbing it steadily like the boys, you had to win two or three times more than them to prove you were worth taking the next step.

You were 16 when your paths crossed with the boys from your childhood again. They recognised you, but they never really talked to you, so they didn't this time around either.

Coming out of the bathroom you once again caught a conversation, and you stopped dead as soon as you heard your name.

“No, not really… I don’t see her like that at all- she’s- uh-” Charles was speaking, probably looking for the words in english, “-she’s more like one of the boys.”

You paused, your breath hitched.

“Yeah,” that was Max, “I don’t see her like that either. I guess she doesn’t care about the things girls her age do.”

You felt a lump in your throat, retreating back to the bathroom. You stood in front of the mirror, watching your face as the tears fell down on your cheeks. You were dressed in your regular racing day attire, cargo pants and a sweater. You didn’t wear makeup and your hair was all frizzy because of the helmet.

The next time you went to the Raikkonen residence, you pulled Minttu aside one moment.

“I want to be pretty. Will you help me?”

You two went through a long chat with Minttu reassuring you that you were pretty in your own way and you insisting you wanted to be pretty like other girls, more feminine and girly.

When you entered F2 after the winter break, you felt and looked like some better version of yourself. Minttu had helped you set a skincare routine that was already helping clear your face from teenage acne. She also took you to a hair salon, where you trimmed your hair and made a few highlights. She upgraded your wardrobe, and even if you tried to refuse saying it was too much, she said it was a Christmas gift and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Your path until reaching F1 was slow and steady, and you were a reserve driver for two years before finally getting a seat at McLaren. You knew Kimi probably had a hand in getting you a chance, but he denied every time you asked.

Kimi told you the raw truth before the season started. He and Minttu sat you down and talked about how the world and Formula 1 would expect more of you than of any other rookie. How they would stress your mistakes tenfold. How they would diminish your achievements with the same intensity. You weren’t afraid, really.

“I’ve lived with my greatest hater more than half of my life, I can handle strangers” you had laughed to the couple.

Still, Kimi taught you everything about his Iceman persona, and told you to pick whatever you wanted from it. Minttu also convinced you to start therapy, which you accepted.

The hate started as soon as you were announced. Beyond the regular misogyny, they were calling you too old to be a rookie at 24, they were questioning your abilities even with numerous championships from other categories to back you up, even with the fact that your mentor was Kimi fucking Raikkonen. But you didn’t let any of that get under your skin.

Sebastian Vettel was quickly drawn to you, and he became your first friend in Formula 1. He had been close with Kimi from the time they were teammates, and he kinda adopted you.

The guys your age didn’t want to get too close to you. The very few times they talked or walked with you, it sparked romance rumors, and soon they pretty much ignored or avoided you. You knew their intentions weren't to be mean, they were probably just avoiding problems with the media and their girlfriends or wives, but it didn’t hurt any less every time they walked straight past you.

One of those times you were going to the group press conference and all three of the guys walked past you as you tried to chat with them. Your shoulders slumped, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“What was that?” You jumped at the sound of another voice. You looked behind you to see Fernando Alonso walking up to you. Up until that point, he had been polite to you.

“Oh,” you stumbled over your words, “being seen talking to me is bad press, apparently.”

“Una tontería,” he muttered, shaking his head, which made you laugh, surprised. He put a friendly hand over your shoulder and led you to the media session.

Simples as that, Fernando too became your friend.

You asked your PR manager, Amanda, to bend a few rules to make sure you would always be at the press conference with Seb and Nando or at least one of them. Most of the time, you did. But sometimes you were unlucky and had to sit stiffly through rounds of absurdly odd (and downright misogynistic) questions by yourself.

Soon you gave up on befriending the other drivers and being charming to the media. You realized the Iceman persona of Kimi looked like a good way to protect yourself from the clutches of the motorsport world. By the sixth race of the year, you gained the Lioness nickname. An agile hunter in your driving style and just as fierce in your answers.

“You’re always seen more comfortable with either Sebastian or Fernando, who are way older than you” some reporter said, “why is that?”

“I believe we’re closer in maturity age,” you said, face expressionless. You heard snickers around the room and you looked to Fernando who was visibly holding a laugh.

“So you’re saying the other drivers are immature?” The reporter pressed, but you didn’t want to talk anymore.

“No,” it’s all you answered, putting your mic down.

Everyone already thought you were arrogant, selfish, and superficial, and as you embraced your cold persona, you just fed into their assumptions. You couldn't care less, it was a good way to protect yourself, to be distant from the media who were constantly trying to drag you to the dirt.

“You mentioned the other day that you believe you should’ve joined F1 around the time the guys your age did. Why do you think that didn’t happen?”

“Because of what’s between my legs, Brian” you deadpanned.

You had to prove yourself two or three times more than the boys every single step of the way, to get into F4, F3, F2 and now F1. You made it, you were there, between the 20 best of motorsport in the whole world… and still… Still you had to hear questions about how you managed to race with a period, questions about boyfriends, questions about hair care or skin care, or whatever. You wouldn’t mind any of that if those were common questions, if they were asked of every driver, but they were only asked of you.

“I would like to express that, from now on, I will only answer questions that would be asked of the male drivers too, about the sport, about the cars, about strategies and everything that revolves around racing,” you warned one day before the end of a media conference when someone asked if your PMS interfered in your racing.

You started to not give two fucks about the media. Every time someone asked you a misogynistic question you just stared at them and put your mic down. So those types of question died down a little bit.

“Do you think you would’ve already been world champion had you entered Formula 1 earlier, let’s say at age 19/20?”

“Yes.”

Most of the guys ignored or avoided you, but your path always clashed with Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. They always hinted at not liking you in the slightest, and the media and the fans started catching up to it, throughout your rookie year. They would shamelessly shade you, and you never backed down, giving it as hard as you got.

You walked to a reporter, still using a towel to dry your face at the post race interview.

“Did you hear what Leclerc said about your move as you left the pits?” The man asked you.

“No, I didn’t. Do I look like I care about a man’s opinion?” You said, loud and clear.

You got as many fans as you got haters, especially as you messed with Leclerc’s and Verstappen’s loud fanbases. It wasn’t really on purpose, but one of them would usually jab at you in interviews, and when word got back to you, it would anger you to no end, and you would shade them back, and in an insane amount of back-and-forths until your rivalry was in articles, the news, twitter threads, and in the mind of every single reporter in a race week.

“Verstappen talked about your overtake at lap 49, he said it was a dirty move.”

“Like he did to me back in Silverstone?” Your eyes held a mischievous glint as you scoffed, “Funny, you didn’t see me whining about it back then.”

You had the best rookie year ever since Lewis Hamilton debuted. You almost reached the same overall numbers as him, getting six podiums and your first ever Formula 1 victory. You finished the driver’s championship in fifth place, over older drivers that were literal champions of the world.

The first time Lewis Hamilton really engaged in conversation with you was during the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony by the end of the season. You were proudly smiling, holding your Rookie of the Year trophy. He had been polite to you before, but he always looked unattainable, in a way. He was beyond the world of Formula 1.

“Congratulations!” He smiled at you, sitting by your side. Your heart thrumming in your chest, trying not to fangirl too much. Sometimes it was unbelievable sharing casual conversation with legends you grew up admiring from afar.

“Thank you, Lewis. Congratulations on the championship!” You said.

“I’m sorry for not realizing most of the boys were excluding you. I chatted about it with Seb, and he told me your only friends are him and Fernando.” Lewis whispered, looking genuine, “I guess I was so focused on the championship that I didn’t bother to check on you. I’m sorry, really.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you raised your trophy, “I made it, right?”

“Succeeding despite the adversities… I see traits of a champion in you, congratulations” Lewis got up, raising his flute in a toast for you, “see you around, Lioness!”

Soon the next season you realized you had a competitive car. More than the year before. As for the first few races of the season, you had a win and podiums, which put you as a contender for the driver’s championship. Unfortunately the other people competing closely with you were none other than Charles and Max. Your rivalry had died down a bit when they noticed that you only shaded them when they provoked you first. So as their jabs became few and far between, it meant your clap backs did too.

The season was as good as it could get, that is until Monza.

You had felt the problems braking specifically during qualifying and your team tried to fix it but there wasn’t much anyone could do due to parc fermé. So you spent part of the night before the race working with your strategist to find a way around your braking problems and the best way to preserve your tyres.

The data had shown it would take a bit more strength to brake, which would eat up at your tyres quicker than usual, but other than that, everything seemed normal.

You all were wrong.

As the race went on, your brakes got progressively worse, to the point that curves were taking your body strength so much you could feel your muscles sore.

“We are considering retiring the car,” Jace, your engineer said. You inhaled, trying to calm down.

You were barely holding your P5, when you saw a Red Bull approaching you. You weren’t in position to fight, so he overtook you turning in a chicane. But your brakes didn’t work as you tried to slow down behind Max’s car, you tried not going into him but your tyres locked as you tried to avoid his rear. You drove straight into his rear, making the two of you lose control of your car. You braced for impact against the wall but luckily the gravel slowed you enough that you just touched the barrier.

After checking with your engineer, you left the car and saw Max leaving his, both DNFs.

You knew of your fame of being a reckless driver, often known for risky maneuvers and overtakes, but you never dove into someone intentionally because you knew trying to take someone out would mean yourself getting taken out too. As a marshal took you back to the garage on a motorcycle, you were ready to swallow your pride and apologize to Max for accidentally taking him out.

But as soon as you stepped down from the motorcycle, Max was in your space. His face was red and his hair all sweaty and disheveled, when he fronted you, chest to chest. You knew there were dozens of cameras pointed to you, so you tried to diffuse the tension for once.

“Are you insane?! Why did you drive into me?!” He kept advancing and for each of his steps ahead, you took one back to try and explain. But he didn’t give you a second screaming all kinds of curses and blame, “you should’ve never made it to Formula 1!”

His words were like a slap to the face, and you stopped trying to apologize or explain. You put both hands to your back, inflating your chest to face him.

“You don’t get to fucking decide that! You dipshit! Who the fuck do you think you are?” You said to his face, that’s when someone from the RedBull garage ran closer and stood between you.

You watched as he was taken away from you and inside his garage. At the same time your PT found you and walked you back to McLaren.

Changing from your race suit, you tried to cool down before going to the media. You gulped down your water as you watched Charles leading the race, and getting closer to the championship than you.

“There was an altercation between you and Max Verstappen, can you comment on that?”

“He was visibly upset with the racing incident.” It was all you said, after chatting with your PR manager before stepping out to chat with the journalists.

“And what happened at that incident? Can you walk us through it?”

“Yes, uh, we’ve been feeling something wrong with our braking system since yesterday. The data showed us it would require me to be more forceful during braking, which seemed feasible. But the brakes were wearing off during the race and we were about to retire when I completely lost the brakes. I really tried to avoid him but my tyres locked and I ended up hitting Verstappen.”

“Are you sure this accident has nothing to do with the ongoing rivalry between the two of you?” You got offended by the reporter's words.

“Of course! I would never intentionally do something to put myself or other drivers at risk. I have all the data to back me up and anyone can check my onboard.”

The FIA investigated your altercation with Max, and you ended up getting an unsportsmanlike behavior penalty. Two points in your super license.

“What the fuck?! Why the fuck would I be punished for that! There are fourteen different angles from that argument and all of them show how Verstappen aggressively came on to me first!”

It got worse when you heard that only you had gotten a penalty and Max didn’t even get a reprimand.

Everyone close to you noticed how you were on edge next week. During media day your answers were short, dry, and every single journalist seemed to want to talk about the penalty.

“Yes, I do have opinions on my penalty. But no, I won’t talk about it, only the FIA’s opinion is relevant” Your words during the press conference were enough to express a little dissatisfaction and to put an end to those questions. Everyone was surprised at the fact you chose to be quiet about the whole ordeal, they were all expecting your complaints and harsh words.

When you went back to your driver’s room, you went straight to lay your head on your mom’s lap, feeling a bit down. You stayed quiet as she ran her hands through your hair softly untangling it. She knew you were upset and why, so none of you bother to voice anything, bashing in the comforting silence.

The best thing about Formula 1 was being able to retire your mom from working, now you didn’t have to worry about her burning out and she didn’t have to worry about bills or mortgage or debts. Now she had a new, bigger and better house, everything was paid for and you even gave her a credit card for hobbies or whatever she wanted. She sometimes went to the races, but she usually stayed at home, relaxing.

“I know things are hard right now,” you mom started, her voice soft, caring, “but I know you can do it, honey. You’ve faced pushback since the beginning of this dream, but you always came out on top.”

“Thank you for believing in me.”

“You will be a world champion, honey. I know it.” She smiled down at you.

You sat up as your mom removed her watch, handing it to you.

“I wanted to give it to you on your birthday, but I feel like this is the right moment,” she turned the watch, showing you the inscription that read strong woman, and you felt your eyes water, “this was my grandma’s. She gave it to my mom, who gave it to me, and now it’s yours.”

That week you got a victory, raising your P1 trophy for your mom, who was watching you with a hand on her heart, crying happy tears.

As the season progressed the championship became even tighter between the three of you. Mere points set the three of you apart, and with each week result, the P1, P2 and P3 shifted between you. It had become one of the most competitive seasons in the sport.

When the third to last race came in Qatar, you were P3 in the championship, and you needed at least P4 in that race to keep fighting for the championship. You didn’t care about anything other than getting a podium, focused on your racing mindset, no distractions. If you only got that win, it would mean getting back that P1 in the championship and you would go down in history.

You were P3 after your last pitstop of the race, you had a small window of time to take advantage of being with new mediums while everyone else was with old softs. You had to pull ahead and open at least ten seconds, so you could become first when Max went to the pits. You had the perfect opportunity for an undercut.

That was until you overtook Charles’ Ferrari for P2. You passed him easily, he hadn’t gone to the pits yet, so he had old tyres. But you frowned as Jace warned you about Leclerc trying to take the position back. He couldn’t fight against your new tyres, everyone knew that. You accelerated to open a distance, but as you went fast into turn 4, you only felt the hit to your side, making you lose control of the car.

It was barely a few seconds that you couldn’t wrap your head around, so shocked you couldn’t brake, only feeling your stomach churn as you braced for impact. The second hit came against the barriers even harder than the first, it shook your whole body, leaving you dizzy and out of breath.

You talked with Jace, telling him in a shaky voice that you were okay but out of breath, and you unlocked your seatbelts with trembling hands. After removing your steering wheel, you tried to get up but you were dizzy and your legs felt like jelly. A marshal helped you out of the car, but as soon as your feet were on the ground, you stumbled to your knees. The nausea got the best of you and you puked against your balaclava and inside the helmet. The marshals made a small shield around you, as one of them helped you remove the helmet and balaclava, still dry heaving. The marshal gave you a towel, and you cleaned the best you could as the ambulance was coming.

You looked behind you to your destroyed car.

And just like that, you had lost any chance at the championship.

You held your tears as you went through the medical procedures and examinations. The world had been muted in the background and you could only hear the noise of the crash, visualizing your ruined car, and your dreams being crushed once again.

But as you came back to the hospitality, you found your mom, and sobbed quietly against her chest.

“It’s ok, honey. It’s okay,” her voice was so soothing and the pain meds were working, so you cried yourself to sleep while she held you.

Later that day, you watched the replay of your crash. Leclerc had gone way too close to you, but in turn 4 he hit the curbs and lost control, hitting your car right in the middle, full force. Your car had spun out a lot then hit the barriers. It was lucky that you had come out of the crash relatively unharmed, it was ugly and could’ve been a lot worse, from the way you spun and the G force your car hit the barrier with.

“You’re still watching that?” Your mom’s voice sounded in the middle of the night.

“He shouldn’t have tried to fight for the position back, he didn’t even have enough tyres for that! And he was way too close, look!”

Your mom closed your laptop, putting it on the coffee table. She took your hands in hers and smiled gently.

“I’m sorry about the championship. But I’m glad you’re okay, that was one of the scariest couple of seconds of my entire life,” she whispered, teary eyed.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, ashamed that it didn’t cross your mind how worried she might have been.

“It’s okay, honey. There’s always next year, I’m sure you will be world champion. And will be there cheering for you.”

The next week in Jeddah, you felt like the world was out to get you when they put you in the press conference with both Max and Charles, as well as Lewis and Sebastian.

“Y/N, how are you feeling after last week’s crash? It looked pretty bad.” Someone asked.

“I am doing ok, thank you,” that’s all you said into the mic.

“Unfortunately, the crash ultimately took you out of the championship, what do you say about that?”

You were so tired of that question, so tired of your PR manager talking in your head about not blaming Charles publicly, despiste your desire to scream to whoever may hear that the monegasque just wanted to take you out of the competition, so he could fight only Verstappen for the championship. You just wanted the season to be over, in all honesty.

“There’s always next year, right?” You echoed your mom's words, that were also your rehearsed answer. You looked to the side, feeling Sebastian’s hand softly on your forearm, a silent show of support.

You left as soon as it was over. You knew Charles had been trying to talk to you. You supposed it was to apologize, but you weren’t having it. You were still so angry at him that you worried you’d punch him as soon as he was in your face. So you just avoided him like the plague. You didn’t want to see him, and you couldn’t afford another punishment if you acted on your anger.

“Charles has been looking for you,” Sebastian said, walking up to you as you were finishing braiding your hair for the race.

“I have been avoiding him,” you said, not looking at Seb, still focusing on your braids.

“He just wants to apologize.”

“And I want to punch him in the face, so what? We can’t always get what we want” You clenched your jaw, using an elastic band to finish.

“Y/N…” Sebastian sounded tired.

“Don’t Y/N me. I just want this season to be over, ok? The championship was in my reach, and now it’s not. And it wasn’t even my own fault. So no, I won’t see him.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything as he walked to you and pulled you in an affectionate hug that made you want to cry again.

During the driver’s parade, Fernando acted almost as a guard dog, not letting anyone close to you. You talked with him and Lewis about the crash, explaining how it felt to you.

When the season ended, you got a third place trophy during the Prize Giving Ceremony. You remembered your dad’s words throughout the entire night. Coming down from the stage, and you met with Minttu and Kimi, they congratulated you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of failure. You looked at Charles on the stage with his P2 trophy.

“Anything other than the first is failure, right?” You sighed, eyes glued to the stage, where Max got the trophy of Champion of the World.

“What crap is that?” Kimi said, suddenly.

“My dad used to say that when I was a kid.”

“Well he was an asshole,” Kimi said matter-of-factly, “and he never made it to F1. He didn’t even make it to F4, he has no reason or power to get in your head. You were just a kid. You understand?”

“Yes, Kimi," you swallowed, feeling some kind of wheight being lifted from your shoulders. Kimi had done many great things for your life with very few words, and his succint way of being was great to pull you back to the present whenever you anxiety got the best of you.

You ended up getting the Personality of the Year award too, which was such a surprise that it worked wonders to lift your spirits and to end the season with a sweet note.

Even being in a better mood, you didn’t stay at the party too late, saying your farewell to your friends as you dropped Kimi and his wife at the hotel. You were removing your makeup after a shower when there was a knock on your hotel room door. Thinking it was an emergency, you rushed only to be faced with Charles Leclerc.

“What are you doing here?” You looked around the hall, confused.

“Can I talk to you?” Charles was still dressed in his formal attire, black tie. He fiddled with his fingers as you let him in, afraid someone might see him at your door.

“What?” You crossed your arms as you closed the door.

“I’m really sorry about the crash in Qatar,” he waited for your answer with bated breath.

“Can we have this conversation when next season starts?” You proposed. You knew you weren’t ready for that talk yet, too much anger was still clouding your judgment for a level-headed talk.

“It wasn’t my intention to take you out-” He started but you cut him off.

“Look, you’ve never liked me, I’m aware, and you cost me an entire championship, so I don’t know if I believe you.”

“It really wasn’t intentional, the accident cost me the championship as well,” you could see in his eyes that his patience was wearing thin. But so did yours.

“No it didn’t. You still had a chance even after that DNF, you just didn’t win anyway,” your anger simmered again, making you raise your voice.

“Fuck you! You treat me like this because you always felt like you were better than everyone-”

“I treat you like this?! Be fucking for real, Charles! You hate me so much you took my chance at the championship away!”

“If you had more wins during the season maybe this wouldn’t be a problem right now!”

“Unbelievable! Because you are so much better than me, all you got was second place!”

“Shut up.”

“You’ve always hated me for absolutely no reason-”

“Shut up.”

“And now you think you can barge into my room and tell me you think I’m a shitty driver? I’m not standing for-”

“Shut up!” He shouted, which was so surprising you actually stopped talking.

The both of you were breathing heavily, in one second you were sure you could strangle him, in the next, his lips were against yours and his hand gripping your hair. The kiss was nasty, all teeth and lips and tongue, his hands going down your body, pressing you into him, and your fingers tugging at his suit, ripping the buttons. You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but Charles’ lips found your neck and he bit into your pulse point.

“Fuck you, Charles” you said, breathless, opening his trousers and he ripped your little sleep top with his bare hands.

It was so hot as you stumbled backwards and he followed you, tossing your top behind him, you took off his shirt and undershirt and he helped you kick out your shorts.

Charles pressed you against the wall, kissing you aggressively again, and you moaned as he placed his thigh between your legs, and you ground against him, turned on, dampening his trousers with the wet of your panties. You pressed your hand against his bulge, and he groaned, pressing into you even harder, humping like horny teenagers.

You didn’t even bother to get him naked, with his trousers half undone, you just pulled his cock out, heavy in your hands. You watched his pained expression as you spit on your hand so you could masturbate him.

“Fuck it,” you moaned, knowing grinding on him was not nearly enough.

You pulled your panties to the side, and lined his cock up into you. It was so tight as he slid into you, that your eyes rolled in pleasure, and he raised one of your legs against his waist to make room for his hips. He pulled back and snapped his hips into you again, his cock stretching you so good you were shaking. You put one arm around his shoulders holding on him and the other hand you held his ass under his loose trousers, your nails biting into his flesh as you pushed him even deeper.

“Fuck, ah-” he moaned in your ear, “so hot- putain-”

The loud, wet sounds of his hips pistoning into you were obscene. You angrily bit him, his shoulders, his chest, his jaw and he went even harder, your back hitting the wall behind you, and you pulled his hair, sweat starting to form all over your body.

“Fuck, Charles!” Your moans got even louder, and Charles stuck two fingers into your mouth, muffling your sounds as he fucked you.

He was hitting the perfect spot inside you, and it was enough for you to know you would come that way. You slapped his cheek, taking out some of your anger and he groaned, going harder. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and held your neck, pressing your torso against the wall and choking you a little bit.

“I can’t hold much longer” he warned you between gritted teeth, relentlessly fucking you.

You pinched your own nipples and it didn’t take long for you to come, your cunt clenching so hard around him, it was enough to send him over the edge too.

Shaking, the two of you slid to the floor, breathlessly lying down, half naked and sweaty.

None of you said a word.

When he was ready to go again, he put you on your knees, your torso against the mattress, and he pounded into your cunt mercilessly from behind.

The third and last time was lazy, slow missionary and he held your wrists above your head with one hand, pressed your clit with the other, sucked a few hickeys around your tits and his cock pressed over and over your g-spot.

When you woke up the next morning, Charles was still asleep by your side. You went into the bathroom and showered, hoping he would catch the hint and leave. But as you came out showered and dressed, he was still out cold. So you quietly packed your bag and left for the airport.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #lestappen x reader #lestappen #Spotify

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misctf · 24 days ago

Text

The Haunted House II

Back with another Halloween themed story to celebrate the month! This is an indirect sequel to The Haunted House. Enjoy!

“You’ll wanna use these for pie and those for eatin’” Cal says with a warm smile. And just like several customers before, she thanks him for his kindness, “Aw shucks, jus’ glad to be here.” Each word rich with his country accent.

Today was the local college’s annual Autumn Festival. Cal’s father would have him man their stand. It was something the young farmer enjoyed each year and the locals always looked forward to seeing him. But once a year was good enough for him. He never went to college, but didn’t feel he was missing out. He loved the countryside and his life on the farm.

“Besides,” He thinks eying a group of college guys, “They’re all a bit backwards ‘round here.”

The group of bros were talking about a Halloween party that night. Their obnoxious laughter filling the air as they discussed ‘future conquests’. Their vocabulary rich with words like “rizz”, “bro”, and “lit.” Cal couldn’t wrap his head around it. Outside of being from the countryside, he figured being 30 years old contributed. To him, they all seemed immature and rude. A stark contrast to the values instilled in him by his god-fearing parents.

“Well, that was the last of it. Guess I should pack up.” After finishing, he looks down at his watch, “Well I’ll be, there’s still time before supper. Might as well explore.” He figures he might find a gift for his parents and girlfriend, Anna.

Cal walks pass various stands and attractions- enjoying the sense of community and the cool autumn breeze. And as he reached the end of the festival, he saw it- a large, wooden, and derelict house.

“That wasn’t here last year.” He mumbles, walking over to the plaque near the entrance, “Scariest experience you’ll ever have.” He reads. He scratches the hairs on his chin and grins, “A haunted house, huh?”

His neighbors would turn their farmhouse into a haunted house. And it was scary. Cal remembered the first time he took Anna. He damn well near pissed himself. If he wasn’t trying to impress her, he actually might’ve.

“Scariest, huh? I’ll be the judge of that.” He chuckles.

Without another thought, he enters. The inside was dark, illuminated by a few candles. The musty smell of mothballs and mildew invaded his nose, but he reassured himself it was nothing compared to the cows on a hot summer day. Eventually, he found himself standing in front of a large mirror.

“I see.” He smiles, “It’s one of them fun mirror houses.”

He feels somewhat relieved. This was nothing compared to his neighbor’s haunted house. He follows a creaky flight of stairs, until arriving at a somewhat familiar looking door.

“Well I’ll be.” He raises an eyebrow.

From what he could tell, it was a replica of the door to his room back home. He opens it slowly, his eyes widening as he enters what appeared to be a total copy of his bedroom.

“There’s no way.” He whispers, only to jump as the door slammed shut behind him.

He looks around finding his neatly made bed, his desk littered with equipment manuals, a pair of his work boots, and pictures of animals and the outdoors. Even his fishing gear sits nicely in the corner of the room. The only difference being the large mirror propped against the wall. Cal took an apprehensive step forward.

“Call me crazy...” He mutters, approaching his desk.

And as he picks up one of the manuals, he feels a shock. He watches closely as the manual starts to shift and change. The cover now showing off a nude man, flexing his muscles. Cal gasps and drops it as the remaining manuals reform into all kinds of lewd magazines. And he watches as a laptop materializes on his desk, immediately opening to gay porn- the sounds echoing loudly.

“What on Earth?” Cal gasps, feeling his cock tenting in his jeans, “Naw, this ain’t...”

He backs away, falling onto his bed. And when he does, images flash through his mind. He can hear his neighbor Billy. He’s moaning, begging for more. And Cal grunts from a sudden warmth around his cock.

“This don’t make sense.” Cal huffs, holding back a moan as he bucks his hips.

Billy was never near his room. Cal’s parents warned him about Billy’s sexual preferences. Yet he could hear Billy’s voice now, clear as day. His moans a symphony in Cal’s head as he absentmindedly massages his tented cock.

“Wasn’t that a good fuck?” A voice said.

“Fuckin’ was.” Cal slurred, recalling Billy’s firm ass.

He shakes his head and leaps from the bed, sweat trickling down his face. He never... not with a guy. Not even with Anna. He was waiting until marriage.

“Huhuh remember Anna’s face when she caught you?”

A new unwanted memory appears. The day Anna walked in on him and Billy. Her look of disgust. How his parents didn’t even know what to say, just going on about how disappointed they were.

“Whatever...” The voice continued, “At least we got bragging rights.” Cal groans as he remembered telling his friends about banging an older woman. But wasn’t he the same age as Anna?

“Nah fam, you’re 21.”

Before Cal could respond, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He couldn’t explain it, but he looked younger. He runs a hand along his smoother skin and watches with amazement as his facial hair falls to the floor. He moans as rush of hormones and energy fill his body.

“No, this isn’t right...” Cal’s eyes widened, “My voice... what...?” His country accent gone- now more akin to the bros from outside earlier.

He retreats from the mirror, awkwardly tripping over his work boots and falling into his closet. He looks up at his flannels and denim hanging neatly. And before his eyes, they morph. His clothes shifting into oversized hoodies, joggers, and tank-tops. He even catches a glimpse of his work boots as they become slides.

“Bruh, that drip ain’t hittin’ right.” The voice said, “Gotta ditch that fit.”

“What are you even...” Cal stops, hating how similar their voices sound.

But he quickly finds out what the voice meant. He yelps as the cool air caresses his now naked form. His rock-hard cock exposed and throbbing from the cool draft.

“But how...?” His eyes inspect his naked form.

He no longer sports a farmer’s tan. Instead, every inch of his skin was sun kissed- a rich bronze. And even his chest and belly hairs fall out. He frowns at the loss of the tokens of his traditional masculinity.

“Fuck this.” He curses, stumbling out of the closet, “Wait, no way.”

The pictures of animals and nature have been replaced by pictures of half-naked men and women. He groans as memories of jerking off to these pics fill his mind, and he shudders as the moans from his laptop seemingly got louder.

“I gotta bust.” He mumbled, thinking back to Billy’s ass, “But... no, fuck...”

His voice drips with smugness- deep and dull now. And nothing he did could prevent him from sounding like a typical douchebro. Taking a step back, he trips over a dumbbell.

“Bruh, where’s my fishing gear!?”

Instead, there’s a full set of dumbbells and a bench press. And his jaw drops when he caught his reflection again. Gone were his lean muscles. He now sports broad bis and tris. His pecs now a pair of meaty muscle tits. He slowly runs his hand along his six-pack abs, an unwanted pride filling him.

“Being jacked's a vibe, bro, no cap.” The voice said as Cal bounces his pecs.

“Facts bruh, a little extra muscle never hurt nobody.” Cal bites his lip, “No, oh fuck... my head...” Memories of guys and girls drooling over his muscles make his dick twitch. He loves the way those sluts would salivate over him, “Please... no...”

He winces as an intricate forearm tattoo engraves into his skin. And he gasps as a few bracelets materialize on his arm. There was no way... he would never buy shit like this. He was saving his money for more important things, right?

“Bruh, when you’re on OnlyFans, the bag’s there, no cap.”

Cal watches as a ring light and video camera materialize on his desk. Memories of his content flooding his weakened mind. The modest part of him blushing as he recalled the lewd content he created. Cumming on camera, teasing his cock, fucking Billy...

“They love watchin’ this dick in action.” He smirks, giving his monster a few tugs.

Yet, part of him was terrified- his values and kind-hearted nature resisting the persona that was taking over. And he quickly released his cock and grabbed his head.

“You gotta let that go, fr.” The voice said.

“Deadass, I’m not lettin’ this slide.” Cal shot back.

And as he turns back to the mirror, he saw himself. His real self. Still naked. But a reflection he was more used to- his farmer’s tan, lean muscle, and body hair. Not sporting a tattoo or fake jewelry. The kindness still in his eyes, albeit fearful.

“It’s me...” He whispers.

But when he looks down, all he sees is his newly bronzed skin, two slabs of chest meat, cobblestone abs, and his 12 inch, throbbing cock.

“No... I don’t want this...”

Desperately, he reachs out to the mirror- to his old self. Wanting nothing more than to go back to being himself. But as his hand touches the mirror, it shatters. Cal cries out and tumbles through the opening, falling to the ground just outside the haunted house.

“Oh fuck...” He curses, pushing himself up.

He looks down at his tanned, meaty hand. His tattoo and arms on full display in his tank-top. His pair of joggers doing little to hide his raging boner. In a dazed panic, he grabs his phone and opens snapchat.

“It’s me, bruh. For real.” He keeps staring at the photo, his eyes dulling, “Damn.. I got that rizz today.” He swipes through a few filters and grins, “Lit.” His selfie now framed by the entrance to the haunted house, “Scariest experience you’ll ever have.” He chuckles, “No cap.” He uploads the selfie for his thirsty followers.

“Bruh, you good?” Cal looks up at the group of guys from earlier.

“Ghost play with your cock, CJ?” One quips, nodding towards the outline of the boner in his pants.

“CJ?” Cal mumbled. Yeah... He likes that... CJ, “Bruh, that house was straight-up bussin’, no cap.” CJ chuckles and readjusts his dick, “Ayo, quit staring unless you're gonna do something about it.” He stands up, “Like, don’t we have a party to hit up?”

Later, CJ stands in his dorm room, flexing after his shower. His dick needed some attention- not like he ever had a problem with that. That’s why he went to fuckin’ college in the first place. His basic ass parents could waste their lives on that farm. Nah fam, CJ had bigger and better things ahead of him- as did whoever guy’s ass he was baggin’ that night. CJ chuckles, already feeling his cock hardening.

#male tf #male transformation #mental change #personality tf #straight to gay #jock tf #dumber tf #unwilling tf #age regression

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wonderjanga · 6 days ago

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Behind the Scenes

Someone hacked Cyborg’s memory. Because of this, and the fact that both Cyborg and Marvel hang around each other a lot, people were greeted with one of the most beloved heroes acting like an average person, because whoever hacked him also posted all the footage online. It was only footage of Marvel too so Billy’s wondering if Sivana’s behind this.

The video starts with Cap and Cyborg walking down a hallway in the Watchtower. They’re about to pass a door when they suddenly hear:

Female Voice: “Like, Captain Marvel? Beautiful man. Just beautiful.”

Cyborg and Marvel: *stop walking*

Marvel: *looks over to him and has a disgusted face*

When the hero who said that saw this clip, the embarrassment they felt was astronomical. Speaking of embarrassment:

*another clip*

Cyborg: *talking*

Marvel: *also talking but pauses mid conversation and his hand moves to his heart and he deadass looks like he’s having a heart attack*

Cyborg: “What the fuck. Are you okay?”

Marvel: *takes an extremely deep breath* “Yeah. Yeah, I’m find. You just reminded me of something cringe I did and like 2019.”

Cyborg: “What could you have possibly done that could lead to you experiencing heart pain when you remember it?”

Marvel: “Don’t even worry about it.”

Cyborg: “I feel like I have to worry because what was that??”

Yeah… All the fans are speculating now. Speaking of speculating, there’s another clip that left fans worrying:

Cyborg: *walking to the kitchen when he suddenly stops because he can hear Marvel and Supes talking*

Marvel: “He is such a prick.” *full southern accent*

Supes: “I know, right? I honestly don’t know what to make of him.” *also full southern accent*

Marvel: “Hey-” *says something in Kryptonian*

Supes: *starts to laugh but then stops himself* “Now that’s just mean.”

Marvel: “It’s true though isn’t it?”

Like a Day after the video was Released…

Interviewer: “Supergirl Supergirl! Can you translate this for us?”

Supergirl: “Huh, what?”

Interviewer: *shows video clip about the two speaking in Kryptonian*

Supergirl: *does the same thing as her cousin which is laugh and stop herself* “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #superman #clark kent #kara zor el #supergirl #dc cyborg #victor stone

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naughtyneganjdm · 4 months ago

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Bad Girl

Summary: Billy Butcher & Joe Kessler take you to a motel room where you end up handcuffed to the bed with them using your body in whatever way they please.

Characters: Billy Butcher, Joe Kessler & the reader (Female OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57390406

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, No Plot, Daddy Kink, Unprotected P in V, Oral, No Use of Y/N, Dirty Talk, Threesome, DP, Name Calling, Choking, Spanking, Slapping, Rough, etc.

Notes: We're going to pretend that Joe is actually real and not an imaginary friend lol. Or this can be before he died. Who gives a shit really. This is pure filth. Probably the filthiest thing I've ever written. I think so at least. So yeah, pre-warning.

“I don’t think you had any idea what you were in for when you agreed to this sweetheart,” Joe Kessler’s voice was deep, raspy and it had you whining from where you were stretched out naked on the bed with your wrists handcuffed to the headboard. “I know you said you wanted both of us, but you can barely handle one of us.”

“And I’ve only just gotten started,” Butcher’s thick accent filled the air having you pant when you felt his thick fingers thrusting firmly into your wet pussy. It had your hips arching up toward his movements with Billy snickering out. Joe was sitting in a chair beside the bed. His baby blue button-down shirt was open to the center of his chest exposing the dark curls of hair over his flesh. The sleeves of the shirt were unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows while he observed Billy having his way with you. Now Billy was sitting at the edge of the bed shirtless with just his black slacks still on. “Lack of being pampered I think with this one.”

“I think you’re right,” Joe hummed, his eyebrow arching up in amusement when you whimpered out with the strength of Billy’s fingers plunging into the depths of your core. By the expression over Joe’s face, you could see that he was entertained with his dimples prominent from his smirk. “Hasn’t had a proper fucking in a very long time.”

“We’ll have to straighten that right up for her,” Billy decided, grunting when he worked hard to forcefully shove his fingers into your wet cunt. Your cries were loud with you throwing your head back into the pillows and a wolfish smile tugged at Joe’s lips.

“Keep it up Billy my boy,” Joe urged Billy on when Billy got on his knees above your body. Billy’s left hand squeezed firmly at your hip to keep you in place while his right hand continued to thrust away with the wet sounds filling the small motel room that the boys had taken you to. “I feel like she’s just about…” your back arched, your eyes slamming shut with your whole body tremoring as Billy managed to get you to a powerful orgasm that had your thighs tremoring. “There.”

“Good girl,” Billy praised you, smacking at your hip when his fingers pulled from your sopping pussy. With how hard your heart was already hammering in your chest, it made you wonder how you were going to last through this. “Tight little cunt this one has.”

“Mmm…I see that,” Joe dragged his thumb across his bottom lip when you dropped your head to the side. Behind heavy eyelids, you could see that Joe was eyeing you over as if he was planning on what to do next with you. “She looks spent already Butcher. And she hasn’t even had a cock in that tight little pussy of hers. I’m thinking we should stop. What about you?”

“No, please,” you begged noticing the wicked smile that followed when Joe snickered. Getting up from the bed, Joe moved in beside Billy at the bottom of the bed and scoffed. “I need this. I want this. So much.”

“Begging lil’ thing,” Billy rumbled with a crooked smile, nudging Joe firmly with his elbow. “I think we should give her what she wants.”

“I think we’ll start slow. Work our way up. See if she deserves it,” Joe moved in beside the bed, reaching out to hook his fingers tightly into your hair. Pulling your head up from the bed, he teased his lips just in over yours. Heat radiated over your lips from the warmth of his breath. It had a breath catching in your throat. The way his eyes locked onto yours took your breath away. “Eat her out Billy.”

“I was getting hungry,” Billy commented with a snort, getting back onto the bed. Forcing your legs apart had you gasping and Joe’s thumb swept over the swell of your plump bottom lip. Wincing, you felt the grasp of Billy’s hands strong on your thighs, squeezing at them to pull you where he wanted you. Going to look when Billy lowered himself down between your thighs had Joe hooking his fingers firmly around your neck to force your head back down into the pillows. “Oi, you should get a good look at this Kessler. Such a pretty little cunt just begging to be pampered.”

“In due time Butcher,” Joe slurred forcing you to look at him. The pressure on your throat was enough to make a point and you didn’t question it. Biting down on your bottom lip, you felt the rough fingertips of Billy tracing over your wet slit with the coarse sensation of his beard teasing at your flesh while he kissed at your inner thigh. “Are you a bad girl or a good girl?”

Whimpering out, you felt the warmth of Billy’s mouth pressing in over your most intimate parts and it had you shaking. Once Billy’s tongue began to pamper your already sensitive clit with slow, focused movements it had a rush flooding your body.

“Answer the question,” Joe sneered making you wince when the grasp of his fingers got tighter around your throat. Joe’s fingertips from his other hand danced between the valley of your breasts. Sweeping his rough fingertips over your nipple had you purring out and he pinched faintly at the taut bud.

“Bad girl,” you answered drawing an amused rumble from Joe’s lips and he gave you a firm nod.

“Good answer,” Joe started pressing faint kisses over your jawline having you purr out. A growl had your hips arching up when the strength of Billy’s tongue and his kisses over your damp heat grew. “Because bad girls want to be punished. You’re only a good girl when you do what daddy wants from you.”

Finally, as if giving you a reward, Joe’s lips covered yours hungrily kissing you. It took your breath away, your lips parting when his tongue gifted you with the warm sweep of it over yours. Crying out in Joe’s mouth, you felt Billy slurping at your sensitive flesh and you wished you could have reached down to sink your fingers into his hair, but you couldn’t move. They made sure of that.

Cooing out at the sensations, Joe bit at your bottom lip giving it a small tug before standing up straight. Pulling open the rest of the buttons of his shirt, he pushed the material aside revealing his slender abdomen to your sight. Attempting to take everything in all at once, you were impressed with the tattoos and the v-line at his slender hips. Dragging his fingers across his belt, Joe started to part the material making the metal cling when he got it apart.

“Fuck,” you gasped when Billy forced two of his fingers back inside of you, delving deep inside of your warmth in attempts to hit that sweet spot he had already found. Matching the pace his mouth was already delivering over your sensitive bundle of nerves had you bouncing up toward him. Growling against your flesh had you tremoring with the way it vibrated against your folds.

“See, the good thing about Butcher is he does whatever I tell him,” Joe explained, undoing the button in his slacks before firmly tugging down the zipper. It had your mouth going wet at the sight and you were doing your best not to close your eyes. “Ain’t that right Butcher?”

“Fuck off, cunt,” Billy’s lips pulled from your mound with a wet sound. It had Billy snickering and you whining when Joe looked to Billy with an amused expression.

“Back to work,” Joe ordered and Billy gave you a smirk before lowering his head back down to go back to pleasuring you. It had you moaning out and Joe shrugged. “So, as you can see, if you don’t do what I want I can make him stop at any time. Understand?”

Nodding your head, you could barely form words when Joe pushed the material of his pants apart. Reaching inside, he seemed to touch himself for a minute before pulling his lengthy cock out to your sight. It had your mouth water eyeing over his rigid manhood that had prominent veins going up the shaft to the swollen tip. Joe’s long, slender digits were curled around his erection stroking over it in slow movements.

“Now do what daddy tells you…” Joe moved in over you on the bed lowering down just enough for him to press the tip of his cock to your wet and ready lips. “Suck my cock…and you better make it good.”

Chills ran down your spine when you outstretched your tongue allowing it to flick out against the tip of his thick cock. It had a groan falling from Joe’s lips while he watched you. His left hand braced against the headboard while his right hand urged around the back of your neck to get you to lift up better.

Parting your lips enough for him to press his hips forward and sink his cock into your wet mouth had him letting out a deep, raspy moan, “Just like that…”

It was difficult to focus while Butcher’s movements were so fierce making you have to work twice as hard in giving Joe a blowjob, but you were doing your best. Drawing out your movements, you pushed your head forward as much as you could to take Joe in your throat before pulling your head back. It seemed like Billy knew what you were doing and he would tease you having you moan against Joe’s cock when the flicks of Billy’s tongue grew wild against your flesh.

“Relax your throat,” Joe demanded and you did your best to oblige with Joe thrusting his hips forward. You were doing your best not to choke when he filled your throat, pushing your head further down his cock until your nose was buried against his groin with the dark curls of hair that surrounded the base of his thick cock. Tears developed at the corner of your eyes knowing that your airway was cut off until Joe snickered and pulled his hips back. A long line of saliva trailed from the tip of his cock to your lips with him stroking his hand over his slick arousal. Giving you a minute to breathe, he moved forward again and started fucking your mouth the way he wanted and you did your best to give him what he desired. You didn’t complain, hell you wanted to be his best little sex slave that did as he pleased because you didn’t want this to end with the two of them. Even though you tried to focus, your body started tremoring again. God, Butcher was working you up to another orgasm that had you crying out against Joe’s cock. It had Joe moaning out with him pulling it from your mouth with a wet sound. “Fucking hell.”

“Can we switch now?” Billy requested lifting his head up from between your legs to wipe at his lips with the back of his hand. There was a sense of arrogance in Billy’s eyes with the way that he was able to make you come so easily. “I’d like to get my dick wet someday soon too.”

“Have at it,” Joe moved from over you sliding out of his shirt, allowing the material to drop to his wrists. Dropping it onto the ground, he kicked out of his pants and the sight of his cock bobbing about as he moved had you tremoring. “Get on your knees.”

You wanted to ask how, but instead you just did your hardest to twist your arms. It hurt like hell with the way the cuffs tightened around your wrists, but you did what Joe asked of you. Beside you at the edge of the bed, Butcher was swiftly pulling apart the material of his slacks. Unlike Joe, he wasn’t taking his time in pushing his pants down his hips. Billy was quick and fierce in the way that he did things. Once the material of his pants were pushed down, his uncut cock bounced in your face and he chuckled.

“We’re not making it easy for her, are we?” Billy sheathed his girthy flesh with his fingers, testing the member in his grasp making sure that he was completely solid. Hopping up on the bed, he carefully lowered down onto his knees in front of you and swept his fingers over the side of your face. “Here we go…”

Leading the tip of his cock to your lips, you allowed Butcher to sink his arousal into the warmth of your mouth. Grumbling out, Billy swept your hair out of your face and held it back so he could watch you while he thrust his hips unhurriedly toward your throat.

“Well fuck me,” Joe’s raspy voice was heard, the warmth of his hands palming in over your bottom spreading your cheeks apart. “That is a pretty pussy. Wet and just begging to be fucking destroyed. Look at you.”

“I told ya. And there you are wasting your time talking her through things,” Billy’s accent accentuated something of the words. A firm smack over your right cheek was felt and it made you purr against Billy’s cock. “Fuck Kessler…”

“Enjoy it,” Joe commented when he smacked at your ass again before caressing at the flesh. “Fuck, you really are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

Closing your eyes, you enjoyed the warmth of Joe pressing up behind you along with Billy using your mouth however he wanted. Faint kisses were pressed up over the small of your back from Joe before lowering down again. Leaving you with small little bites over your flesh and over your ass. Humming out, Joe’s hands pressed at your thighs, getting them to separate better.

“Look at that pretty little hole,” Joe dropped his head forward, his tongue dragging a line along the length of your sex. When it circled the warmth of your entrance it had your eyes slamming shut and you noticed in that moment that Billy started to thrust his hips harder up toward your throat. His fingers were hooked in your hair, controlling the movements of your mouth over his length leaving the wet sounds to fill the small room with what he was doing.

Joe’s tongue prodded at your hole, his fingers squeezing at your thighs while he feasted on your body. Both men were using your body the way they wanted to and it was so hard to focus. The handcuffs were digging into the flesh of your wrists and you knew it would leave a mark, but you thought it was worth it. You tried to pull your head away for a breath when you gasped at the sensation of Joe’s long, slender digits pushing into your slick body. Just like Butcher, the forcefulness of his fingers thrusting away inside of you had you trembling back against his movements. You were having trouble staying on your knees and they both knew that, but it didn’t stop them from being rough with you. When Joe’s fingers pulled from your body and went back to flicking and teasing over your entrance along with your folds, it had you whining. Tugging your head back from his length had Billy’s cock twitching when his fingers traced over your chin.

“Come on honey, get it together,” Billy’s fingers tapped at the side of your face, giving it a little smack while you tried to take in as much air as you could. “Get that throat relaxed for daddy here so we can keep up the fun.”

It wasn’t long before Butcher was forcing his cock back into your mouth and down your throat. With a slurping sound Joe pulled his head back and snickered against your flesh. Giving you one final wet kiss at your core had you whimpering around Billy’s cock and he threw his head back letting out a delicious moan that had chills flooding your body.

The bottom of the bed dipped with Joe’s weight moving in behind you and your back arched enjoying the warmth of him near, “So many holes just begging for attention.”

The sound of Joe spitting was heard and you felt the warmth of it sliding down over your ass. Collecting it with his thumb, Joe circled it over your tight pucker and it had you bouncing forward. With a rumble of an amused laugh, Joe pulled your hips back to him. Forcing his thumb into the ring of muscle had you pulling away from Billy’s cock, dropping your head down and whimpering out. It was foreign the feeling that he was doing. You weren’t completely ready, but Joe was testing your limits.

“Fucking hell Butcher,” Joe groaned from behind you, enjoying the way your body bounced back toward his. Billy’s fingers grasped onto your jaw forcing you to look up at him. Your eyes were watery and you no doubt had spit dribbling from your lips with what they had been doing to you. “Her ass is perfect too. With a pussy and an ass this tight, they are just begging for endless amounts of creampies.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t ya?” Billy slurred, lowering down just enough to brush your hair out of your face and he smiled. “The two of us filling you up?”

“Yes,” you panted, whimpering out when Joe pulled his thumb from your body. Hearing him getting off the bed had you whining and Billy let out a sound of awe.

“She misses you already Kessler,” Billy mocked you slightly dawning a frown with his thumb sweeping over your bottom lip. “Wants you back in that tight little ass of hers.”

“I won’t be gone long,” Joe assured you digging for something in his pants before returning with a tiny little bottle. Getting back on the bed, Joe dropped the bottle on the bed beside him and hummed. “Don’t be a greedy little thing. You’re gonna get what you want. I’m just preparing for the future here.”

“You have no idea what you’re in for,” Billy alerted you with a bounce of his eyebrows and a devious smirk. Gasping out, you felt Joe moving you around where he wanted you. The way he threw you about made you feel like a rag doll when you felt his thighs pressing in over the back of yours. It had you cooing out when you felt the length of his solid cock resting over your bottom. “Why do you get to go first?”

“Because you ate her out first Butcher my boy,” Joe snorted seeing the frustration in Billy’s face when Billy curled his fingers around his cock, teasing the flesh in his grasp. “Don’t fucking worry. We’ll share. We always fucking do.”

“Come on honey,” Billy led you back toward his cock, teasing the tip over your wet lips. Sticking out your tongue for him, you flicked it faintly at the ridges of Billy’s manhood. It had him growling out, his fingers yanking at your hair drawing you to wince. Allowing his length back between your lips, you heard the sounds of Joe tapping his erection at your ass. The soft smacks had your eyes slamming shut and you wiggled your ass a bit showing him that you wanted what he was about to deliver. “You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth.”

“Aw. Ain’t you sweet?” Joe mocked Billy from where he was behind you and you could see from the corner of your eye that Billy lifted his hand to raise a middle finger at Joe. It had Joe chuckling behind you before you felt the sweep of the tip of Joe’s cock over the length of your sex. Moaning against Billy’s cock had him groaning out when Joe smacked his member up against your flesh. Joe was teasing you at first while you did your best to pleasure Billy, but Billy could pick up that you were having a hard time focusing so he started thrusting his hips, fucking your throat with wet sounds falling from you. You felt the swollen tip of Joe’s cock at your entrance when he pushed forward swiftly, not giving you much time to get used to his size when he filled you completely. It had your hips bouncing forward, a cry falling from your stuffed throat, but Joe forced you back onto him. “Fuck, that’s nice…”

Joe squeezed at your hips before he started thrusting behind you, not taking it easy in the way he pounded into you. Every bounce forward of his hips had you gagging more on Billy’s cock. A pathetic half attempt at a moan escaped the small spaces of your throat while the wet sounds of Joe pounding into your pussy echoed throughout the room.

“That’s it,” Joe growled, his hand spanking firmly over your bottom again. Your flesh was hot, burning with the sensation before another smack over your flesh drew you to whimper. “Such a perfectly wet tight little pussy.”

Once again, Joe’s thumb was back at your pucker pushing it’s way back into your ass while he fucked you. It was a feeling you weren’t used to, but by the sounds Joe was making behind you, you would have let him do anything. In fact, you moaned like the perfect little slut they wanted you to be. God, what you would have given to touch both of them. To feel the flexing of their muscles while they had their way with you.

“Oi, let me try,” Billy pulled at your hair, getting you from his cock and you panted for air. Tugging you forward had Joe’s length pulling from your wet core. You hated that empty feeling it left you with. Billy dropped down on the bed, managing to get you on your knees over him. Your hands were braced against the headboard when Billy reached between the two of you to thrust his hips up sinking his manhood into your tight canal. “Fucking hell…”

“Told you,” Joe’s breath was warm against the side of your neck when he kissed over your jawline from where he was on his knees behind you. Joe’s erection was pressed against your back while Billy pounded into you from below. His hips bouncing up toward you filling you again and again with his length. Curling his fingers firmly around your throat, Joe urged you to tip your head back while your cries and moans filled the air. Covering your lips with his, Joe feverishly kissed you, his tongue brushing past your lips to flick against yours. Sucking faintly at his tongue had him growling out, the grasp of his fingers around your throat growing stronger. Mewling out, you felt your whole body shaking with the way that Billy was smacking up against you, his testicles slapping up against your ass with every thrust. “Enough.”

Curling his arm around your waist, Joe lifted you enough to pull you from Billy’s cock. Joe kept his finger wrapped around your throat, having your head tip back against his shoulder. His other hand reached down to lead his cock back into you with a loud smacking sound. Between Billy and Joe they were filling you and stretching you in ways that you could never imagine.

Crying out, you closed your eyes while Billy’s hands caressed up and over your sides. There was a big difference between Billy’s hands and Joe’s hands. Billy’s fingers were rougher, scratching at your flesh while Joe’s fingers were softer. You could tell that one worked more in the field and the other did more of the directing. Billy’s palms squeezed at your breasts, his fingertips circling your nipples.

“Gorgeous set of tits really,” Billy grunted, his hot wet kisses tampering off over your breasts. Once his mouth surrounded your breast, it had you crying out into Joe’s mouth. Joe wasn’t wasting a moment with you, having you the way he wanted. Filling you completely, having you shake with every forceful thrust upward he made behind you. Twisting his tongue around your nipple, Billy nipped at the flesh before sliding out from under you. “My turn.”

You whined. You felt like Joe had been hitting all the right areas inside of you to lead you right to the edge of an orgasm, but Billy didn’t give you the time to reach it. And that ached. Bad. Joe snickered, pulling his hips back and you felt Billy forcing you down onto your back again. Breathing loudly, you could feel your heart pounding away inside of your chest. Your body wasn’t used to all of this and all of this at once.

Crawling in over you, Billy settled himself between your thighs after forcing them open. Hooking his arms around your shoulders, Billy held tightly to you when he looked between the two of you. Lining his solid dick up, he thrust firmly forward which had you bouncing upward on the bed. Every thrust was rough, causing the bed to squeak with every movement he made over you. The headboard was smacking against the wall loud. It made you wonder if anyone else was in the rooms near you. If there was, there was no question what was happening in here.

“Look at that face,” Joe sat on the edge of the bed. Your face was hot. You knew you looked spent and he was completely amused. Billy gave you a few wet, sloppy kisses, but you liked the way they felt. You liked the contrast between Joe and Billy. Sucking at his bottom lip, Joe seemed to enjoy watching Billy fucking you with the way that he was watching the two of you. Joe’s cock twitched with anticipation when he smacked at Billy’s shoulder. “Don’t be greedy Butch.”

“Fine,” Billy scoffed, dropping his head back, pulling himself up and away from you which had you whimpering out. Again, you felt like you were cheated out of an orgasm. There was a tingling at your core, you were soaking wet and the boys knew what they were doing with you. It felt like a game at this point. Billy threw his hand out and pointed down at you. “Have at it.”

“Thank you,” Joe shook his head, licking his lips when he looked you over. “I can see by the desperation in your eyes you want to come. So bad. Don’t you?”

Joe traced his fingertips over the length of your folds, collecting your slick onto his fingers before he traced his fingers back down. It had you nodding, your hips bouncing up toward his touch when he snorted, another amused rumble falling from his throat, “Can you squirt?”

You could barely form words when Joe grunted and moved in over you on his knees. Urging your legs up over his shoulders had your ass lifting from the bed and he braced himself with his left hand settling beside your hip. Using his right hand, Joe reached down to lead his throbbing erection swiftly back into your body. With a smack forward it had you crying out and an arrogant smile pulled at Joe’s lips.

“Feel good?” Joe slurred, his eyebrows furrowing when he braced his right hand beside your other hip to balance his weight. Nodding, your lips parted and you whimpered. In this position Joe filled your right up to the brim. It had you feeling fuller than ever and your hips involuntarily arched up because you wanted more. It had his long eyelashes fluttering with him taking in a sharp breath of air showing that he liked it. It was like he was cherishing the sensation of the warm walls of your core surrounding him before he started rolling his hips. Each movement Joe made, he was paying close attention to how you reacted. The bed dipped with Billy laying down beside you, his kisses pressing in over your shoulder. Once Joe found a position he liked, his eyes were focused on his cock starting to piston inside of you. Joe’s jaw flexed, the lines in his forehead growing with his moans becoming louder.

“Joe,” you cried out and it had Billy tsking in your ear, his fingers grasping tightly to your jaw while your hands tremored in the position they were in. Your arms were going numb with how they had them handcuffed to the bed. The pleasure overpowered the pain with the tip of Joe’s cock hitting all the right places inside of you. It had you shaking, your hips quivering with you arching up close to him wanting him to keep doing what he was. There was a rush going to your head and you bit down on your bottom lip.

“Keep it up Kessler. Looks like this one is about to burst,” Billy praised Joe with the smacks of Joe’s flesh against yours setting a steady rhythm. Sliding his palm down your abdomen, Billy’s fingers centered in over your clitoris circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. It had you crying out their names. A proud laugh fell from Billy’s throat. Behind heavy eyelids you could see the determined expression over Joe’s face when you wailed out, pulling your hips back and away from Joe. A hot liquid warmth rushed to your core and your whole body shook. An amused breath fell from Joe with him licking his lips. “She is a squirter. Well lucky us.”

“Fuck,” you tremored, your throat tensing up when Joe moved off the bed and ran his fingers over the wet lengths of his lower abdomen. Sitting at the top of the bed beside you, Joe propped his back up against the headboard when Billy swiftly got up onto his knees. Once again he had you flipping over onto your stomach. Adjusting your bodies, Joe had you laying over him when Billy moved in over you. Your head rested against Joe’s abdomen with his fingers stroking at your shoulders. Forcing your legs together, Billy rest his knees beside your thighs and reached down to forcefully shove his thick cock back into you. It had you sobbing out. You were so fucking sensitive as it was and Billy wasn’t going to give you a break. No, now that Joe had managed to make you squirt by focusing purely on your g-spot, Billy was going to do the same. Rough, powerful thrusts followed with your face burying further against Joe’s lower abdomen. “Billy…please.”

“Nah, no. Butcher is doing a great job,” Joe hushed you, stroking his fingers over the side of your face. It led you to start pressing faint kisses over the area under Joe’s navel and it had him smiling. “Let him do what he wants with your pussy. You won’t regret it.”

“It’s almost like a challenge you see. If he can do it, I know I can too,” Billy grunted in your ear, his mouth pressing in over your shoulder while biting at your flesh. Adjusting his hips, Joe curled his fingers around the base of his lengthy cock and teased the tip of it over your bottom lip. Parting your lips allowed him to start thrusting his hips up in lazy movements. You tasted yourself on him while he surprisingly praised you. Every plunge of Billy’s cock inside of you had you crying out against Joe’s flesh, but by his moans you realized he liked the way it vibrated against his manhood. By Billy’s loud breaths, you could tell he was determined and he was getting there with wanting to make you squirt too. That same familiar fire flooded through your veins, but this time you couldn’t pull away. All you could do was pull your mouth away from Joe’s length, burying your face against the center of Joe’s chest when Billy swiftly pulled his hips back and a wet sound followed. “Fucking Perfect.”

“I think it’s time for the finishing touches,” Joe allowed you to lay over him while he stroked his fingers over your shoulders. Curling his finger under your chin, he persuaded you to tiredly lift your head from his chest. “You can take both of us at the same time, right? You want to be our perfect little slut and make us happy?”

“Of course she does,” Billy retorted from behind the two of you going back to kissing over your shoulders. “If she wants to keep this whole thing up, I know she can handle it. Ain’t that right sweetheart?”

Licking your lips, you knew that your body was already exhausted. You had been ran through incredible amounts of euphoric pleasure time and time again. Pushed to the brink, but when it came to these two, you were willing to do anything. Nodding slowly had Joe’s smile growing and he tipped his head down. The light from the motel room brought attention to the scar that went down the side of his face. You had always been attracted to both Joe and Billy. But now even more so with the way their bodies showed how they went to war in the past.

The bed went cold with both Joe and Billy getting up from the bed. Shocked, you felt one of them unhooking your wrists from the headboard. You didn’t think they were going to let you have your hands. Out of the corner of your eyes you could see them talking. Pulling your wrists closer to your body allowed you to observe them. Your skin was raw and red.

“I’ll play you for it,” you heard Billy stammer and it had Joe chuckling. Turning your head, you watched Billy hold out his fist. It looked like the both of them were doing rock, paper, scissors as if trying to figure out who was going to go where. When they got to three, Joe beat Billy with paper when Billy picked rock. “Best outta three?”

Rolling his eyes, Joe allowed them to play again with Joe winning the second time, “I know the way you think Butcher.”

“Alright you fucking wanker. You win. But it’s mine next time,” Billy declared dropping down to the edge of the bed before laying down. Urging you in over him took time. You weren’t moving all that well. You were weak and rightfully so. Now Billy was kissing you this time more focused, gentle. It surprised you.

“Here we go,” Joe got on the bed behind you, grabbing your waist and pulling you up to your knees. It had you gasping out, but Billy had your face cupped in his hands with him nibbling at your bottom lip. “I’m gonna get you ready. Cus’ while we’re assholes, we’re not fucking assholes.”

“Yes you are,” Billy snickered, his lips pressing over the side of your neck to your jawline where he bit. It had you whimpering and you heard the sound of a bottle being opened. Soon the slick, cool fluid began to slide between your flesh over your ass hearing Joe let out a proud sound.

Closing the bottle up, Joe tossed it back beside you and you felt him squeezing at your cheeks, testing the flesh as if to relax you. Tracing his fingers over your body, Joe collected the lube that he had poured and you felt him prodding at your tight hole. It had your eyes slamming shut tightly when you felt his finger pressing inside of you. This time he was slower, working to open you up for him when he added a second finger.

“You’re working your way to the good girl label,” Joe commented, his lips pressing between your shoulders. Billy’s hands curled around your body, smacking firmly at your ass which had it bouncing back toward Joe while he thrust his finger inside of your tight canal. Working a second finger in had you grabbing tightly to Billy. Your fingers sank into Billy’s flesh, the nails breaking the skin, but by the sound that he made he liked it. “Your perfect little ass was made for this. Y’know that?”

“He has me all jealous and shit,” Billy snorted, his brow line creasing when Joe reached for the bottle again after pulling his fingers from your body. It had you panting, clinging tightly to Billy like you wouldn’t let go. You had to brace yourself and prepare for what was going to happen. Looking over your shoulder, you watched Joe pour a significant amount of lube into his hand before coating his cock with it. Slick sounds fell from his hand jerking off his throbbing length. Crawling toward you, Joe pressed into your hips to get them lowered slightly with your ass in the air. “I thought we were sharing.”

“Let me get her used to it first and then we will share,” Joe snapped, his fingers digging into your hips when you felt the swollen tip at your tight pucker. Clenching up had Joe hushing you his lips kissing at your shoulder with the warmth of his body radiating against your back. “Clenching is going to make it hurt. I’m not trying to hurt you here. So fucking relax.”

Doing as you were told, you tried to get your body to loosen up. In that moment, Billy was caressing at your body, his mouth demanding kisses from yours. You wanted to focus on the kisses, but you heard the slight popping sound of Joe successfully sinking the tip of his manhood into your tight hole.

Don’t tense up. You had to repeat that to yourself as you buried your head against the side of Billy’s neck. Cradling your head, Billy hushed you with Joe urging the rest of his lengthy cock inside of you. You felt full. It ached, but you didn’t want him to leave. An involuntary moan fell from your throat.

“Fuck me,” Joe bit at your earlobe, his nose nuzzling against the side of your face when he filled you completely. “Your tight little ass feels like it was made just for me.”

Bracing his hands, Joe took his time pulling his hips back and then thrusting forward. It surprised you that he was taking his time to open you up and get you used to this whole thing. His moans were pretty loud and you bit down on your bottom lip.

“You’re going to creampie her before we even get started,” Billy scoffed with the weight of both you and Joe over him. “Now who is being the greedy fucking one.”

“Stop bitching,” Joe snarled, reaching out to smack his hand at the side of Billy’s face which seemed to enrage him a bit. “You don’t want to rip the poor girl in half. You’ll get what you want you jackass.”

Gradually Joe’s thrusts stopped and you felt him pull from your body which had you whining out, “I know, I know. You want me balls deep in that pretty little ass of yours, but we have to please Butcher here too before he loses it.”

“Fuck you wanker,” Billy scoffed with Joe trying to get you up onto your knees. You were weak, your hands pressing in over Billy’s chest.

“We need your hips to stay up so Billy can fuck you from below while I do it from behind,” Joe’s words vibrated against your flesh and you lowered your upper half. Bracing your weight over Billy’s body, you felt Billy grabbing your hips. With a firm smack upward, Billy was back inside of your already dripping cunt. It had him growling out, his teeth biting at your neck undoubtedly leaving marks. “And now…”

Billy was holding you in place when Joe adjusted his legs. You felt the hair from his thighs pressing against the back of your thighs when he pressed in behind you. There was that bulbous tip back at your tight pucker again. This time he wasn’t as gentle as before. Sinking his cock into you with a firm upward thrust had you crying out. Having the both of them inside of you left you feeling fuller than you ever had.

“Have you ever had a double creampie darlin’?” Billy muttered, his head lifting up to press kisses over your breasts that were in his face. With a nip it had you crying out and he let out an excited breath. “We’re going to have our spunk dripping out of both of your holes.”

“Good girl,” Joe reached around you to palm up over your body, squeezing at the breast that Billy’s tongue wasn’t currently circling. Starting to roll his hips, Joe was smacking up against your ass with his slender hips while Billy desperately started to thrust up toward you. Their movements were uneven at first and it had you breathless. Clinging to whatever you could. After a while they seemed to find a matched tempo that you actually quite enjoyed. You felt both of their testicles smacking up against your flesh. It was a good thing they were friends because everyone was touching everyone at this point. “You were made for this.”

Hearing both Joe and Billy’s moans had chills filling your body. This was incredible. This was everything you dreamt of and more. You knew you would be feeling it for a long time, but you didn’t care. They both marked you and you would wear those marks with pride.

“Beautiful little slut, ain’t ya?” Billy smacked a bit firmer than he did previously at the side of your face before claiming your lips in a hungry kiss again. You were shaking between the both of them. A variation of cries and moans falling from you while they both absolutely had their way with fucking you. Gasping out, you felt Joe’s fingers back at your neck with the pressure that he had placed on it earlier. “Look at you.”

Faint smacks at your clit were felt with Billy smirking a wickedly entertained smile. Your hips were tremoring between the both of them. You were all covered in sweat. This was the dirtiest, naughtiest thing you had ever done and they were letting you know that.

“Are you going to come?” Joe’s fingers were still tight on your throat when you started moaning louder. You could only nod slightly. You wanted to come and you were close to it. You could tell with how good everything felt. That same fire was building inside of you and you felt faint. “Do you like having both of our big cock’s inside of you at the same time?”

“Yes daddy,” you could barely get your words out, your head light from both the pressure of his fingers around your throat and the oncoming orgasm that you were about to have. “I love it. So much.”

“Does your tight lil’ cunt and ass belong to us?” Billy wanted an answer while his fingers were more determined to match the tempo their cocks were setting inside of you.

“Answer him?” Joe demanded with a firm tug, his words hot against your ear making you wince.

“It belongs to both of you,” you promised them, your eyes slamming shut with how powerful Billy’s thrusts seemed to get beneath you.

Billy’s moans were constant when you felt the first twitch of his cock inside of you. He seemed to hold you still, his nails now digging into your flesh while he pumped you full of his cum. You felt it seeping down your inner thighs, enjoying the sight of Billy’s pleasured filled face with his head tipped back into the pillows. His jaw was flexing, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes closed tightly. Billy’s lack of movement only seemed to make Joe’s movements harder. Joe’s breathing loud and hot against your flesh. A small bit of energy filled you. You wanted that orgasm that they were both working up inside of you. It had you bouncing back toward Joe’s thrusts, while still pulling back and forth enough to use Billy’s cock the way you needed it.

“That’s it,” Joe sounded pleased with you and Billy lifted his head to watch you fucking yourself over his cock and Joe’s. With a wail, you felt your thighs tremoring. Your whole body shaking with the euphoric sensation flooding your veins. Your heart was pounding in your chest. With Joe’s fingers still curled tightly around your throat, it seemed to enhance your orgasm all the more. “Fuck…”

Joe’s moans grew louder, his thrusts more prominent and harder. It had you bouncing forward with Billy’s moans still matching yours. With a dominant thrust over you, you felt the warmth of Joe’s release inside of you, his damp chest pressing firmly against your back lowering you closer to Billy. With a few final thrusts, Joe’s hips finally came to a stop and he laughed against your jawline. Finally releasing your neck had you inhaling sharply. The room was spinning. Your vision was slightly blacked over, but in time came back to you. Both men were still inside of you, holding onto you like they weren’t going to let go.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Billy was the first to say something, smacking at your hip before lowering his hips. The sensation of his cum sliding down your body was felt with some of it dripping onto his lower abdomen. If anything? Billy was proud of it.

A faint kiss was pressed against your temple as Joe grunted, straightening his body to get back to his knees. His fingers squeezed at your ass cheeks, spreading them when he took his time pulling his softening cock from your tight canal. Once he did, you heard the wet sound that followed by the proud rumble from Joe’s throat.

“Watching our cum oozing out of your pretty little holes turns me on all over again,” Joe claimed, hissing out when he squeezed at your flesh. You felt his cum sliding down over your folds before dripping from your body. Tapping your hip, Joe suggested you to lay down and you fell in over Billy who grunted. Falling in beside you, Joe’s chest was rising and falling while he tried to catch his breath.

“You okay there old man?” Billy mocked Joe, kissing at your shoulder after. Gazing over Joe, you saw his softening cock resting at his lower abdomen, twitching slightly and it took your breath away. Between Billy and Joe you didn’t know where you wanted to be.

“Fuck you,” Joe scoffed, rolling over onto his side curling his arm around you to pull you closer so that you were between the both of them. Joe’s hand caressed over your thigh, his lips kissing at the side of your neck while Billy kissed at the opposite. Between their rough beards, it had you purring out. You enjoyed the pampering that came after that welcomed abuse you went through between them. “You did good. Very good.”

“I hope it was everything you wanted,” Billy breathed out, a laugh falling from his throat when he stretched his hand out over your breasts to drag it across your flesh. “Because the next time? It’s gonna be so much more intense than this.”

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Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @ibelongtonegan @neganswoman

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#Billy Butcher #Joe Kessler #Karl Urban #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #The Boys #The Boys fanfiction #Joe Kessler x reader #Billy Butcher x reader #Billy Butcher fanfiction #Joe Kessler fanfiction #Billy Butcher x you #Joe Kessler x you #Joe Kessler smut #Billy Butcher smut #Billy Butcher x Joe Kessler x reader

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localemofreak · 5 months ago

Text

I Could Eat That Girl For Lunch.

(Joost Klein x Fem!Reader)

Based on the song:

LUNCH - Billie Eilish

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Story: Joost Klein eats you for lunch 🤷‍♀️ (I know this is a lesbian song but shhh- can we just let this slide for Joost??.. happy pride!! 💙)

Warnings!!: RPF!!!, little bit of smut, heavy fluff, reader gets eaten out, a little bit of Dutch (Dutch is not my first language but I’m trying my best to learn it, if I get anything wrong I’m sorry!!), little bit of cursing, Joost is a sweet man but tbh he sounds kinda cocky in a good way- only a little though, etc. (if u missed anything pls tell me!)

(Special request by: @viozxe )

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“I could eat that girl for lunch, yeah she dances on my tongue- tastes like she might be the one..”

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Heavy huffs of breath fell from your lips as your back arched off the mattress, your hands instantly moving down to grab roughly at the light blonde locks of your boyfriend’s hair as he hid under the sheets and covers.

Your legs shook a little as Joost just seemed to dive his mouth farther down onto your cunt, taking anything he could like it was the last thing keeping him alive.

“Babyy! Fuck~” you managed to moan out, your nails slightly scratching at his scalp as you held onto his hair for dear life, your head falling back as you continued to arch off the mattress.

Joost’s large hands gripped onto your thighs as they squeezed around his head, keeping him in place like he was going to move anytime soon- he was in a trance at this point, refusing to move away from your pussy as he absolutely went at it, leaving no breaks for air.

“smaak zo lekker schatje~” you could hear him hum out between your legs, causing your hips to jerk up against his face desperately.

The more you felt Joost’s tongue dive into your pussy, the more closer you felt each second.

And Joost could tell- and that only caused him to get even more rougher, his face getting deeper in between your legs.

The way your body tensed up as you met your release- a loud moan mixed with his name fell from your lips as your eyes rolled back, his hair scrunched between your tight fingers, the heels of your feet digging into his back.

Heavy gasp of air fell from your mouth as your body just seemed to melt into the warm mattress under you, your vision blurry and spotty as you tried to comprehend your thoughts.

Your body weak as you felt your hands slipping from the grip they had on the back of Joost’s head as he slowly started sitting up, tiny chuckles falling from the man’s mouth as you looked down at him.

“You with me, mijn liefde?” Joost spoke, his voice soft and a little raspy as he sat up on his knees, looking down at you.

Your vision was still a little blurry as you looked up at him while he basically hovered over you.

Even though you could barely see the best- you were still able to take in his appearance.

His light blonde- almost white hair was a little messy and all over the place, his lips were slightly pink and glossy, as well as the rest of the lower half of his face and chin from going down on you- and his bare chest was slightly heaving up and down as he tried to catch his own breath.

The white blanket sitting around his shoulders from sitting up soon ran down to sit around his waist as he let out another deep chest filled chuckle while looking down at you- which once your vision turned back to normal, you were met with a stupid little amused smirk on his lips.

“I mean-“ you stated, taking a moment to pause and gulp down a heavy chunk of saliva pooling in your mouth before you talked once again.

“I can’t really feel my legs.. but yeah, I’m here..” you huffed out, your shaky hands moving to rub at your face a little as Joost let out another chuckle while shaking his head.

“I’m sorry liefje… but hey- that means I did good, yeah?” Joost smirked as he leaned forward to press a few kisses on your jawline- his Dutch accent still managing to spill in through his English, but that just made you more attractive to him.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully at his words as he rested his head in the crook of your neck while laying his warm body on top of yours- your arms wrapping around his neck to gently play with the ends of his soft hair.

You didn’t have the energy to say anything, the only thing you could get out was a soft hum and a tiny nod as your eyes started to flutter shut.

“Get some rest.. mijn engel” Joost whispered out against your skin, his warm lips pressing soft- almost featherlight kisses against the skin of your neck, which caused you to just melt into the mattress as you laid there with him.

#localemofreak #joost #joost klein #joost klein fanfiction #joost klein fanfic #joost klein x reader #joost klein x fem reader #joost klein x fem!reader #joost klein fluff #joost klein smut #joost klein blurb #joost klein one shot #joost klein imagine

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hotvintagepoll · 7 months ago

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Propaganda

Greta Garbo (Camille, Anna Karenina, Queen Christina)—Enigmatic and alluring and made me bisexual. The perfect example of the eroticism in silent films that literally transcends text. Could literally not change anything about her expression but you knew by looking at her eyes what she was thinking. She’s so gorgeous.

Audrey Hepburn (My Fair Lady, Sabrina, Roman Holiday)—Growing up, Audrey Hepburn desperately wanting to be a professional ballerina, but she was starved during WWII and couldn't pursue her dream due to the effects of malnourishment. After she was cast in Roman Holiday, she skyrocketed to fame, and appeared in classics like My Fair Lady and Breakfast at Tiffany's. She's gorgeous, and mixes humor and class in all of her performances. After the majority of her acting career came to close, she became a UNICEF ambassador.

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Garbo:

A cold-ass Swedish WLW Sphinx. Had plans to murder Hitler that she never got around to. "She will remain always a child of vikings, moved about by a snowy dream."

First of all, she's on the money; that's how much of a treasure she is. She's beautiful in such a distinct way you need very few lines to draw her. (Drawing by Einar Nerman) She managed to be mesmerizing in both silent and sound films. She kissed a woman in Queen Christina (and probably several more in real life). She was super dry and really funny in Ninotchka. She got the hell out of Hollywood and stayed out, living for almost 50 years after her retirement.

Garbo is one of the many reasons why I'm gay. If you haven't seen Queen Christina please do, She is so gender in that film. Also her accent makes it sound like she's always talking in cursive and it's so hypnotic (or at least I think so).

She's a gay introvert, like all of us here on Tumblr.

Probably a lesbian, absolutely a mood when she retired

Mysterious and aloof, charismatic and enigmatic, with beautiful androgynous characteristics, Garbo is undoubtedly the most eccentric and unique Hollywood vintage star. Her aversion to fame and stardom makes her even more desirable to the audience, and her insane chemistry with the camera, an actress one of a kind! Her particularity and her oddity is what discerns her strongly from her hollywood co workers at the time, noone was like her and would never be like her. I think, to the utmost extent, that she deserves the title of the hottest vintage star, even though that would be an understatement of what she is!

SO gorgeous, her thick Swedish accent makes will turn your brain into pudding

Audrey Hepburn:

"She may be a wispy, thin little thing, but when you see that girl, you know you're really in the presence of something. In that league there's only ever been Garbo, and the other Hepburn, and maybe Bergman. It's a rare quality, but boy, do you know when you've found it." - Billy Wilder

Raised money for the resistance in nazi occupied Hungary. Became a humanitarian after retiring. Two very sexy things to do!

where to begin......... i wont her so bad. i literally dont know what to say.

My dude. The big doe eyes, the cheekbones, the voice. The flawless way she carried herself. She was never in a movie where she wasn't drop dead gorgeous. Oh, also the fact she raised funds against the Nazis doing BALLET and she won the Presidential Medal of Freedom for her humanitarian work.

"It’s as if she dropped out of the sky into the ’50s, half wood-nymph, half princess, and then disappeared in her golden coach, wearing her glass slippers and leaving no footprints." - Molly Haskell

"All I want for Christmas is to make another movie with Audrey Hepburn." - Cary Grant

I know people nowadays are probably sick of seeing her with all the beauty and fashion merch around that depicts her and/or Marilyn Monroe but she is considered a classic Hollywood beauty for a reason. Ironically in her day she was more of the alternative beauty when compared to many of her contemporaries. She always came off with such elegance and grace, and she was so charming. Apparently she was a delight to work with considering how many of her co-stars had wonderful things to say about her. Outside of her beauty and acting ability she was immensely kind. She helped raise funds for the Dutch resistance during WWII by putting on underground dance performances as well as volunteering at hospitals and other small things to help the resistance. During her Hollywood career and later years she worked with UNICEF a lot. Just an all around beautiful person both inside and out.

youtube

No one could wear clothes in this era like she could. She was every major designer's favorite star and as such her films are time capsules of high fashion at the time. But beyond that, she had such an elegance in her screen presence that belied a broad range of ability. From a naive princess, to a confused widow, to a loving and mischievous daughter, she could play it all.

Look at that woman's neck. Don't you want to bite it?

#audrey hepburn #greta garbo #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 5 #Youtube

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muldermuse · 3 months ago

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An Unlikely Hero (ex boyfriend!Billy Butcher x reader)

this is going to be a multi part series!!! i love exboyfriend!butcher and he is on my mind constantly. if u would like to read more about him here’s some more posts! if you wanna talk about him pls send me your thoughts ❤️ dividers by @saradika ❤️

part one: the first date

the first time you meet Billy Butcher

You swore to yourself that this was the last Tinder date you’d subject yourself to. Last week, you matched and met with Jack who had a Homelander sleeve tattoo and cried to you about how hard it was to be a ‘true American’ nowadays. The week before that, it was Shay who seemed sweet but kept trying to ply you with drinks and invite you back to his place (he bragged that his ‘folks were out of town’, which would be impressive if you were a hell of a lot younger than you actually are). This week’s date is named Harry and he’s just not right for you. You thought it over texts but as soon as you sat down with him tonight; it was confirmed. It’s not even like you have a great previous relationship as a point for comparison, all romantic love has been fleeting and, with how things are going currently, you imagine it always will be.

It's a few hours later and Harry’s suddenly a lot drunker than you. You’ve moved from the overpriced restaurant to your favourite bar. The drinks are questionable in that they’re both incredibly cheap and very strong. You grab two stools at the bar which is overwise empty, apart from one man nursing a whiskey. You’re sure Harry’s drunker than you because he’s currently sobbing into his craft beer about how he hasn’t felt a connection with anyone since his ex-girlfriend, who left him 3 months ago for a co-worker.

“Like, you’re nice y’know. You seem like a nice girl” you try not to recoil at the phrase “but my ex? She was great. There’s no one else who’s ev-hic-ever been like her and there never will be”. The guy sat next to you at the bar mutters a “fuckin’ ell” under his breath as he gestures towards the bartender for another neat whiskey. His accent is completely out of place in this local dive bar; he sounds European. No trace of an american accent so you consider that he could be a tourist who’s wandered into a bar looking for a cold drink and some respite.

You try not to smirk at the utterance and tune back into what Harry’s saying, “I think we’ve both just gone through the motions tonight, don’t you agree? I can tell you’re not really into me and to be honest, I’m not into you”. You kind of admire his candor because he’s right, you’re not into him in the slightest but the next thing out of his mouth quickly dispels any misplaced respect you held for him. “I’ve been real lonely since she left though…maybe you could come back to my place-hic-she’s uh…some of her stuff is still there but there’s not a lot of it in the bedroom”. He’s that plastered that what he assumed would be a casual hand slide up your thigh becomes a full push, hurtling you into the whiskey sipping man next to you. You fall into his chest, it’s strong and kind of feels like slamming into a wall.

“Right, tha’s fuckin’ it” the potential tourist speaks and it’s only when he stands up that you realise how broad he is. He’s tall with thick black hair and the beard to match. His outfit is seemingly prepared for a spectrum of weathers with a Hawaiian shirt clashing with a thick overcoat. He’s older than you, definitely older but absolutely attractive. More attractive than anyone you’d seen on Tinder or, probably, ever in your life. “You alright there darlin’?” his dark eyes bore into yours as you nod and cough out a meek ‘yes’. You silently curse yourself, the first thing you say to this strong man makes you sound like a small frightened mouse.

“’M jus’ gonna get rid of your little pal there and then I’ll buy ya a drink- alright?” his hand rubs your bare arm and sends a flurry of goosebumps across your skin. The whole interaction feels more charged than anything you’ve had before with another human, you wonder if he’s feeling it too and pray that he is.

“Oh nice one man, I’ll have uh…another craft” Harry gestures towards the tap, completely oblivious to the situation in front of him

“All you’re fuckin’ gettin’ cunt is a helpin’ hand out that fuckin’ door. Now, I’ll ask ya politely one last fuckin’ time…fuck off” he elongates the 3 letter word. A comically confused look spreads across Harry’s face. “’M on a fucking date here man and she’s coming back to mine, aren’t you?”

“No” you quickly deadpan, shaking your head at the still unnamed man.

“There’s your answer then cunt, off ya fuck”

“Butcher- no fuckin’ blood on my bar this time man” the bartender shouts whilst idly checking his phone. Butcher? Is that the guy’s name?

Harry stands up, pushing out his chest which, if anything, only exaggerates how small he is in comparison. “I’ve bought her meal, paid for her drink and I’m go-hic-gonna take her back to my place and fuck her”. He finishes his sentence in Butcher’s face. Whilst you see a flicker of fear cross Harry’s expression; Butcher’s look borders on hysterical.

“Alright then big fella, I’ll tell ya what’s gonna happen” he slams his hand down on Harry’s shoulder, his eyes now boring into his. “You’re gonna fuck off back to your shitty little home, grab some lube, cry and wank to ya heart’s content about your ex who is probably ridin’ some big fat fuckin’ dick right now-yeah?” Butcher nods as if Harry’s going to agree with him.

Your date goes to interrupt but Butcher presses a finger to his quaking lips before he can start, “what’s not gonna happen, my sad little mate, is that you’re going to fuck her. She’s hadta listen to your fuckin’ whinin’ about your ex all night whilst you’ve fuckin’ insulted this gorgeous woman. So, get out before I throw ya through the fuckin’ window”. Harry’s lost for words, he doesn’t make eye contact with you as you stand silently behind Butcher. You see tears brimming in his eyes as he smacks $20 on the bar top.

“Fuckin’ old asshole” Harry spits as he shoves past the pair of you.

Butcher smirks at the remark, watching the door swing shut behind Harry before turning to you. “Right darlin’, whatcha havin’?”

It’s the best date you’ve ever been on and it’s not even a real date. You finally got his full name. Billy Butcher. Your heart races just to say it. He’s from London but has been in the States for a while. He asks all about you and you surprisingly find you’ve got a lot in common. He’s funny, charming and really fucking exciting- you have to admit. By the third drink, the chat goes from conversational to more flirty.

“The bartender said ‘this time’, do you do this a lot? Love saving a damsel in distress? Are you a hero, Billy Butcher?” you smirk at him and he returns it back to you. There’s lust in his eyes and you see him take your appearance in for what feels like the upteenth time since you sat down.

As he goes to speak, the bell rings for last orders and he takes your hand to help you off the bar stool. You down the remnants of your drink together and he puts his arm around you and escorts you out of the bar.

You don’t want it to end, he lights a cigarette and you thank any higher deity for the extra thinking seconds it gives you. He speaks before you get chance, “Will ya let me walk you home darlin’? Swear on my mum’s life I won’t try any funny business”. He holds his hand out like he’s making a scouts honour. Honestly, you do anything to spend a bit more time with him so you smile, link your arm with his and pull him down the quiet streets.

The air makes you feel drunker than you are. If you were sober, there is no way you’d be giggling like a school girl at everything this man is saying, yet here you are. Your arms are linked and you’re resting your head on his shoulders as you tell him about your horrific dating history. Everytime he laughs and accuses you of exaggerating you say, “Billy Butcher, I would never ever lie to you”. You say it because his name feels so fun sliding off your tongue. You barely see anyone on your walk home and the sound of your shared laughter fills the empty streets.

As you turn down your street, you wish you lived miles away so you could keep walking together for hours. Your stomach drops at the thought that you’ll never see him again. Which, you completely realise, is fucking stupid. This stranger threatened your date to leave but he also made you feel safe and laugh harder than you have in months. You pull his stride to a stop outside your house. It feels like some awful hallmark romcom or trashy romance novel.

You thank him for escorting you home and he turns down a nightcap in your house as “it’s not gentlemanly on the first date”. He shoots you a wicked grin again as he says, “my mum would be spinnin’ in her grave darlin’”.

You try not to let the heartbreak from that sentence show on your expression. “You’re a gentleman, Billy Butcher?”

“The best one around darlin’. I’ll prove it tomorrow when I take ya out for lunch”

A brief flare of anger hits you, “yeah, I hear that all the fucking time. The lunch never happens, I don’t see you again but then we bump into each other at the store and you apologise and say you’ll be in touch which, of course, you never will be”. You regret it as soon as you stop speaking.

Before you can apologise, he grabs a sharpie out of his coat pocket, takes your hand and scribbles down his number. “There, alright? You call me at any time gorgeous and I swear, I’ll fuckin’ answer and come runnin’”

His kiss to your cheek is soft yet restrained. “You’ll forget about me Billy Butcher, I know it”.

“S’not fuckin’ possible, darlin’”. He says goodnight and walks down your street. A plume of cigarette smoke trailing after him.

He keeps his word.

40 minutes later, and after one final glass of wine, you call him.

He answers on the first ring and says your name. He tells you where to meet tomorrow and what time to get there.

You hope he can always keep his promises.

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queers-gambit · 1 year ago

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When The World Seems So Cruel

prompt: ( requested ) Billy knows something's bothering his girl, so, he follows his instincts and checks on her - family, friends, and slutty cheerleaders in bikinis be damned.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5.1k+

warnings: cursing, smut 'cause why not, boys being assholes 'cause they're losers, misogyny, toxic / abusive / neglectful family, description of background violence, angst, did Cherry really write it if there wasn't a helluva lot of projection and need for revocation of internet access?

"Miss Cahill? I'm sorry to interrupt," you half-smiled at your math professor, "but I was just wondering if you still had my test? I never got mine back."

"Right," she cleared her throat, glancing around your body to see most of the class empty at that point. "I wanted to talk to you about that," she paused to pull out your test from a manilla folder. "I was very shocked to grade this under your name, honey, you're usually such a well-focused and high-achievin' student, I mean, you're on track for the Nat Scholarship! So, to see this... Was shockin', it's... Not your best work," she winced, handing the packet over.

You blinked in shock, frowning as anxiety mounted in your chest when you saw the glaring F in red marker. You mumbled in embarrassment, "I guess I've just been off my game..."

"Honey," Miss Cahill sighed in her light country accent, leaning on her desk with both fists so your eyes met hers, "I can always tell when one of my students is goin' through somethin' at home."

You froze, shaking your head, "No, no, it's not... It's not so bad."

"What's goin' on?"

You shrugged, "I've just been... Really tired," you decided on excusing, hoping beyond hope it was enough.

It wasn't, of course it wasn't. Miss Cahill just sighed and offered, "I can let you retake the test next week - but only after you go see the guidance counselor."

"Right... Um, yeah, okay, yeah, sounds good; um, thanks, Miss Cahill."

You made an escape, distracted by the third failing test you received this week; nearly barreling straight into a meaty, solid chest. "Woah, hey, no need to run 'round lookin' for the man of your dreams, I'm right here, doll," Billy teased, hands grabbing your upper arms to steady you. "What's got you inna rush, baby? You know I pick you up after this class."

You smiled in brief distraction, "Yeah, sorry, baby, I was just thinking about this essay coming up. Hi," you offered, stretching up on your toes to kiss him in greeting. "How're you?"

He half-smirked, "I'm good, you know Mr. Brunson's got a stick up his ass as usual."

"Mhm. As usual, and totally has nothing to do with you provoking him," you teased, latching onto his waist as you shoved your test deep in your shoulder-bag. You neared his locker, and you managed to choke out, "Hey, um... Y-You wanna get outta here?"

Billy offered you a look of mild confusion, smirking with a strange laugh, "You wanna ditch school?"

"Maybe."

"Why?"

"I'm just tired," you offered meekly, "I feel like I haven't slept in a week."

Billy lead you up to his locker, hand on your waist to keep you close as he mused, "This feels like a setup."

"It's not, I promise."

He yanked the metal door open, "Uh-huh. You told me when I met you that I'd have to practically kidnap you to get you to skip class. Huh? 'Member all that? All them lectures you gave me 'bout the importance of goin' t'class if I wanna do anything after this shithole?"

"Yeah, but things change, Bee."

Billy's face dropped, shoving his books into his open locker before turning, leaning his shoulder on the locker next to his, arms crossed as he stared at you. "What's wrong?" He questioned sharply.

"Billy, I'm just tired."

"No, it's something else. What's wrong? What's goin' on?"

You sighed, "You know what? It's okay, nevermind, I actually promised Eddie that I'd help him make those banners for SGA during lunch today, so," you glanced around, "I'm gonna go."

"Nah, baby, hol' up, I ain't mean - "

"I know, handsome," you promised softly, nodding as you reached for his waist to give a squeeze and keep him close. "I just forgot I told a friend I'd help them out, so, I'll just see you after, yeah?"

One hand rose to pet over your cheek, sighing, "You sure you're good? You don't look okay, sugar."

"I'm good," you nodded, deflating into his embrace and hearing him chuckle. "I'm just stretched thin this week, probably shouldn't make promises to my delinquent friends with all the college drama to worry about."

"What'd Munson do this time to only get banner-duty? Huh?"

"Probably got caught skipping or something," you mumbled against his pectoral; inhaling the scent of his mall-bought cologne and finding it a refreshing change from the CVS-brand he used when you first met. "School did something right by makin' everyone in detention serve the SGA for all their shit."

"Definitely got me to shape up," he joked, pecking the top of your head before finishing, "but I mostly missed out on time with you."

"Hey... I was thinking, maybe I can come over this weekend? Keep Max company, maybe keep Neil at bay? Can have a sleepover, too, if you want."

Now Billy's head cocked and his expression hardened, "The fuck you wanna come over for? You know how tense shit gets - "

"Billy."

"Nah, you're not makin' sense, pretty girl," he snapped, pulling back to stare down at you. "What's going on with you? You don't wanna be at home or something? The fuck's goin' on that's so bad you'd rather be at my place?"

You felt tongue tied, but the bell rang shrilly and literally saved you from needing to answer. "Shit, I gotta run, baby. I'll find you later, okay?" You promised, lifting onto your toes to kiss him, promising, "I love you."

He frowned, grumbling, "Yeah, love you, too." He watched you vacate the hall, his mind basically going blank to all other thought beside you. The entire lunch period, he sat on the hood of his car, chain smoking, wondering where he went wrong; what he did to upset you; what could be going on and most importantly, why you couldn't say anything to him about it.

However, after lunch, Billy found you in the library's designated SGA room and thought you appeared ten times as relaxed, laughing with Eddie Munson. When the punk caught Billy's eye, he nodded in respect; gesturing for you to look, and your head turned with a smile. You parted from Eddie and trotted up to Billy, feeling relieved when he grabbed you in a possessive hold; searing his lips to yours.

"Hi," you giggled.

"You seem happy."

"Kinda hard to be in a bad mood around Eddie."

"I can see," he lead you away. He wanted to bring back up about whatever was bothering you, but didn't; fearing ruining your joyful mood. Instead, his fingers just tangled with yours and you entered history together.

What should've been a decently peaceful class turned into a state of confusion for you and Billy when the intercom kicked on, the front office asking for your presence with the principal. Billy glared at the speaker box as you cast him a look of doubt, both confused by the summons; being all too used to them calling his name instead. All of history passed miserably; Billy alone without his favorite person to keep him on track and becoming antsy the longer you were gone. When you didn't return by the end of class, he grabbed anything you left and begrudgingly went to the last two classes of the day.

When the final bell rang, Billy waited for you at his car for a solid 25 minutes with several cigarettes being burned, but when you still didn't show, he grew worried. So, he stored everything in his Camaro, not needing to worry about his sister because Max got a ride home with her new bestie, Jane, and her father, Jim Hopper, and stormed through the school. Anger radiated off his very being, nearly stomping his steps, and just before he got to the front lobby, he saw you exiting the office.

You didn't notice him at first, and for a moment, Billy thought you were going to hurl whatever was on your stomach as you held a few pieces of paper in shaking hands. "Baby," he called your attention, finding your eyes light up at the sight of him. "The hell's goin' on? You were gone the rest of the day, I got worried."

"Yeah, it was some shit wrong with my college applications, but we got it straightened out," you lied, stepping into his embrace. "I'm sorry I worried you, handsome."

He met your lips in a kiss, promising, "Not your fault. C'mon, day's over, our weekend can start once we get the hell outta here."

"Hmm," you hummed dreamily. "Lemme go to my locker and we can get gone."

Billy didn't mind waiting, and when you were done at your locker, he escorted you to his car; only a few students still lingering after hours. He opened your passenger door, winking at you, then quickly jogged to his side and slid in. "C'mere," he breathed, reaching for your cheek instantly; hand sliding along the back of your neck and bringing you in close.

You moaned when Billy's lips molded to yours; all but instantly salivating when his tongue tangled with your own in a messy dance. You had a few rules about PDA, especially in school; but being in his car was neural territory and Billy needed a way to expel his neediness. Praising God for making today steadily warm and that you wore a skirt, you were ready to cry when Billy's hand came down to grip the meat of your thigh.

"Billy," you rushed when his hand traveled under your skirt to ghost over your panties.

"Nobody's here t'watch," he smirked. "C'mon, lemme do this for you, pretty girl. You don't wanna go home yet, right? Ain't got some curfew?"

"Nope," you surged forward to slam your lips to his, moaning when his hand now confidently pet your panties as your legs spread all the wider to encourage him.

"Good girl," he praised quickly, skimming the apex of your thigh to hook your panties and pull them to the side. "Mhm," he hummed with a cocky smirk, "I knew you liked getting fucked in public. Feel how fuckin' wet you are - shit, Goddamn."

You mewled; tension mounting as you tightened up from the stoking pleasure. "Billy - " You gasped when he plunged his fingers into your cunt, easily sliding in due to your arousal. "Ohhh, fuck," you breathed, eyes shut and mouth agape in pleasure, "needed this - needed this so bad. Just needed you."

"You'll get so much more, baby."

You whimpered, "Now, please. Please, please, please."

He smirked, "Wanna get in the back or ride me, princess? Huh? Tell me what you need."

Your eyes locked with his as you thought it over, but then, you smirked as you readjust the passenger seat and turned so your ass was propped up. It gave him a full view of your messy cunt; panties askew from his previous motions and fluid rubbed all around. Billy reached out with one hand to plunge his pointer and middle finger back into your core, the other wrangling open his belt, button, and jean zipper in frantic movements.

He shimmied from the garments and sat up, following your lead in adjusting his seat. He instantly mounted behind you over the center console, licking his palm and stroking his himself to life as he drug his cockhead up and down your wetness.

Billy reached out to move your panties once more, line himself up, and plunge full-hilt. You gasped and grunted, letting yourself be shoved forward a little to catch on the seat; Billy hissing between his teeth as your warmth enveloped him in a sticky-wetness. "Hang on, doll, ah, fuck, there we go," he chuckled, readjusting his position before starting to move his hips to create the most delicious friction.

"Fuuuuck, Billy!" You whined when he held both your hips with only one hand keeping your panties to the side.

"Needed this, too," he chuckled. "Good girl, fuckin' taking me so well. You'd let me do anything, wouldn't you? Fuck you however I want to, huh? Yeah," he lifted one hand to smack the meat of your bottom, creating a ripple; liking the way you twitched and delivered two more, finishing, "I know my pretty baby would let me do whatever I fucking wanted with her - " he clenched his teeth, hips punctuating his words, "'cause she was fuckin' made for me."

"Yes," you moaned, mind blank from all the previous drama of your day; ready to weep like a bitch in heat, "anything, baby, yes, yes, yes, anything you want."

"Good girl," he laughed ruefully; picking up the pace to fuck you outta your mind as he ensured you felt every throbbing vein of his engorged cock. He chased his own orgasm as you were charged with your own; hand reaching for your clit to start applying pressure in tight circles. "Let me cum in you, sweetheart. C'mon, baby, tell me I can cum in you - in this pretty pussy - in my pretty pussy - lemme fuckin' cum in you."

"Billy, fuck - yes, baby, yes! Yes, harder, please, fuck me harder and you can cum wherever you want."

"Even your ass?"

"Yes, Daddy, yes, anything you want! Fuck my ass full of your cum, please, fuck, I need it! Whatever you want, I need. Please!"

Billy's golden curls stuck to his forehead and neck, entire car rocking with frantic, animalistic movements - but anyone lingering around the school to see it wasn't surprised. Billy felt like he went faster than usual, that he got a little rougher; but he was nearing his end and it was hard to keep pace. When you cried out and legs shook from your flash-bang of an orgasm, he knew you had finished and could focus on his own; never pulling out.

He'd fuck your ass later.

"Fuck!" Billy came with a shout; shooting hot, salty, opaque white ropes of cum into your quivering cunt. He stuttered his hips into the meat of your ass, balls contracting; emptying himself inside you as you relished in the feeling of his warmth flooding your lower belly. He chuckled, mocking, "Might just have to get you off that pill so I can get you fucking pregnant already."

"Whatever Daddy wants."

Billy laughed as he pulled out of you slowly, instantly turning again to crash into his driver seat. You went a little limp but managed to turn over, both panting as the windows were fogged up; but aired out when Billy rolled two down to light up his cigarette. "So," he spoke through his inhale and deep breaths, "you wanna tell me whats wrong now?"

"Hmm?"

"Why're you so distracted? Distant? Even with me?"

You felt panicked by the confrontation, resorting to your last line of defense. "Just dealing with a lot," you answered as your legs spread as wide as you could to start toying with your beaten-pussy. He watched with a stoic expression as you used your fingers to stuff his dripping-cum back inside you. "'S been stressful, guess I just had a bad day," you whined lightly, still playing.

"Fuck's sake."

"Hmm?" You feigned innocence.

"You're just askin' for it, huh?"

"Maybe," you pouted, "or maybe I just need your cum - "

"Cut it out, we gotta go," he snickered, turning the key in the ignition. "Your dad hates me enough, can't have you late for family dinner."

You went quiet as your thoughts were plagued with a screaming voice that begged Billy to just read your mind and understand what was wrong - why you were so upset, so panicked. But you knew better. So, you flipped down your skirt and readjusted yourself, sucking your fingers of his cum before letting his hand tangle with one of yours on your lap.

"Maybe you'd wanna come over tonight?" You asked softly. "Go see a movie or something?"

"You never wanna go out on Friday nights," he chuckled, but something felt terribly wrong about the notion. "You do homework and study on Friday and Sunday nights, you said it was a relationship rule, huh?"

"Things can change," you pouted.

"I told Tommy and Ryan I'd hang with them and the guys tonight," Billy spoke slowly. "But I can cancel if you - "

"No, no, don't," you shook your head, "go see your friends. 'Cause I'll see you in the morning, right?"

"Right."

"And I can stay the night... Right?"

Billy nodded, "Anytime you want, baby, yeah."

"Okay, cool," you spoke softly, deflating in his seat when he pulled up to your house. "Um..." You stared up at the home as if it were haunted. "Do you wanna come in for a little?"

His head tilted and brows furrowed, "I have to pick up Max from Hopper's, remember?"

"Right!" You gaped, but didn't move.

"What's wrong?" He asked with a hardened tone, making you gulp lightly. "You don't wanna go in?"

"I could, like, just go with you?"

"Baby, the fuck's going on? Know I hate repeating myself and shit, so just fucking tell me - maybe I can fucking help."

"Nothing, no, it's just, it's nothing, I'm sorry, I just - I'm sorry," you chuckled. "Guess I'm PMSing and feel clingy or something."

He only hummed as you leaned over to kiss him in parting. Both promised you love each other before you got out, jogging up the driveway and opening the front door; pausing to wave at him and then disappear in the house.

"Yo, dickhead! Hey! Grab me a beer!" Tommy Hagan called to Ryan Sheen as he went to rummage in his uncle's basement fridge. "And grab Billy one, too!"

"Nah, I'm good," Billy refused, glancing at the can in his hand. It was still half-full. He didn't feel like drinking after having time to sit and think about your behavior the past few days, worrying about you more than he wanted to get drunk.

"What?" Tommy laughed obnoxiously, smacking his teeth after. "You don't want a second? What's wrong with you, got some test you gotta study for?" He laughed at his own joke. In Tommy H.'s mind, only fucking losers study on Friday nights.

"Nah," Billy eased, setting his can down as he felt his irritation flare. He was annoyed at Tommy, sure, but also by the idea that something was wrong with you and you didn't trust him enough to say anything. "I actually gotta go, you guys," Billy stood.

"What?" Now Ryan scoffed, slapping a can of beer to Tommy's open hand. "You're not serious, dude! We've only been here, fuckin' what? Half an hour, bro!" He sucked his teeth in annoyance, rolling his eyes, "C'mon, we were going to Alicia's pool party tonight - you're supposed to give us a ride! The fuck's more important than the slutty cheerleaders in bikinis?"

"That Maria chick's been all over you, too," Tommy laughed. "You can't tell us a single thing that's better than Maria Thomas, all soaped up, in that tiny bikini she wore for the car wash. It's all our wet dreams come to life, Billy, you can't seriously consider missing that!"

"Not everybody's desperate to see Maria's tit-job. You know what? Whatever, man, I gotta go see my girl," he tugged his jean jacket on, tugging his blonde curls out of the collar.

Ryan rolled his eyes as Tommy laughed, "No way. Nuh-uh. You're seriously going to fuckin' ditchin' us for that chick?"

"Man, fuck you, guys, I'm ditching your dumbasses for my girl," Billy snapped. "Better what your fucking mouths and how you talk about her."

"Whatever, man. You're just whipped."

"She got you on some leash or some shit? Got you on a curfew like she's your mommy?" Ryan rolled his eyes, groaning, "Seriously, dude, we only see you at practice now!"

"Look, I just know something's up with her, so, I gotta check on - "

"So, what!? She ain't even tell you why she's pissed off? C'mon, man, that is such a stupid fuckin' tactic chicks use to get guys to go crawling back to their spoiled asses! Bitches do the pettiest shit to get us to suck up to them and shit."

Billy turned and easily caught Tommy by the collar of his shirt before he could even let go of his beer can, slamming the loudmouth into the wall as the aluminum can clattered. Ryan and the two other irrelevant guys left in the basement could only freeze, knowing Billy Hargrove's aggression and not wanting to become part of the receiving end.

"I told you to watch your fucking mouth," Billy seethed.

"Fuck offuva me!" Ryan pushed Billy's arms off. "She's just some bitch, bro, you've already fucked most of the school - what's so different with her?"

Billy scoffed, nodding in amusement as he backed off a few steps. "You know? If I wanna go hang with my girl instead of you deadbeat dickheads, 's exactly what I'm gonna do. Not my fault y'all ain't shit and don't know what it means to keep a chick happy."

"Fuck off, Billy! You're so fucking pussy whipped!" Tommy barked. "Ditching us for that crybaby! Dude, it's not even real! She didn't even tell you whatever she's all upset about! You just had a feeling, so, just sit the fuck down, finish your drink, down a fuckin' second beer, and then let's go to the party! See some bitches that are actually worth seeing!"

Billy shook his head, "I ever hear y'all talkin' about my girl like this again," he chuckled dryly, "might be the last time y'all can even form words. Fuck yourselves," he sneered.

Billy didn't hesitate to storm out of the room, ignoring their jeers and sneers about him being "pussy whipped" and all their complaints about him skipping out on being their ride to "the hottest party of the year." The door slammed behind him, rattling a few windows; making a beeline for his Camaro and pausing at the trunk. He found a pair of your sports shoes you'd eventually need, grabbed them in a white-knuckle grip, then got in the driver's seat and peeled away.

When Billy got to your house, he noticed the lights in your bedroom were barely turned on; knowing you didn't like overhead lighting and probably had a string of lights plugged in. On the contrary, the rest of the house seemed wide awake - every single downstairs light turned on. He grabbed your shoes and his school books (left in his backseat) and got out of his parked car, approach the front door, and paused when a barrage of voices suddenly met his ears. He froze.

The screams were full of hate, and while he couldn't make out distinct words, he heard both your mother and father's elevated voices. It was relentless, it was full of anger and hate and confusion and accusations and Billy wasn't sure how long he stood there with his fist raised. With a deep breath, Billy finally knocked at the door... Then again... Then again... And again, using the metal knocker to bang rapidly. He heard the voices lower and stopped knocking; taking a step back, then waited with his best look of indifferent innocence.

When the door ripped open, Billy was greeted by your angry-looking mother, who didn't look at who was at the door when she snarled, "What the fuck do you want!?"

"Uh, yeah, um, hi, ma'am..." Billy waved awkwardly.

"Oh, Billy," she gasped. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize it was you, sweetie. What's wrong? What - What time - ? Do you know what time it is?"

"Yes, ma'am, I'm sorry to interrupt so late, but nothing is wrong," he assured. "I just know your daughter's a little forgetful when there's a test comin' up," he chuckled, holding up the shoes and his books, "and she promised to help me nail this essay for my college portfolio... Did I use that correctly? Portfolio? She's always tryna broaden my vocabulary," he chuckled smoothly.

She smiled warmly, another victim to his charming influence, "Sure, honey, yes, of course, it's Friday or something, right, of course you can come in. C'mon, c'mon in." She stepped out the way to let Billy enter into the foyer. "Baby Girl's just upstairs in her room," she gestured with a wine glass Billy just noticed towards the staircase as she used your childhood nickname. They paused at the grand bannister, her eyes rolling when there came the muffled pounding of a bass-line from some song turned up to the max. "She's always blasting her music now adays, it'll make her deaf," your mother scoffed, taking a long sip, then waved him up. "Go on, get up there, good luck on your essay."

"Thank you, Miss Lady," he purred with a small smirk; nodding as he then watched her retreat to the sitting room, and barely a moment later, your father was exiting the kitchen.

"Billy," he greeted stiffly, glass of scotch in hand.

"Sir," Billy replied with a nod of respect, stepping out of his shoes (per household rules) to leave your parents at the front of the house's sitting room; beginning his ascent to the second level. He'd been there before, so, locating your room was like muscle memory; knocking when he approached the door and pausing when he only heard blaring music.

Another knock, no answer. So Billy opened your door.

You were sat on the ground, back against your bed, record player spinning, and the window you faced cracked open to waft the cigarette smoke out. His heart clenched when he saw you, your sadness nearly tangible as light made your tear-tracks on your cheeks glitter. "Baby," Billy spoke softly, watching you jump in shock. "Hey, hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I tried to knock."

You nodded absently, "Music's on."

"Yeah, 's a good song," he allotted as he shut your door securely and asked, "want it locked?"

"Doesn't lock," you answered robotically, looking back out the window.

"Can I turn the music down, baby, please? Real hard t'hear you."

You nodded and he lowered the volume - but when he did, he understood why you had it so high. Your parents could be heard arguing downstairs, and even with an entire floor between you, it was still loud. So, he turned the music up just a little, frowned, and moved beside you, grunting lightly as his tight jeans constricted while he sat.

"Can I?" He asked, pointing at the cigarette. You handed it over mutely, your usual quip of "it's may I, not can I," nowhere to be heard. After two puffs, he meant to hand it back, but instead, you just fell into his side as if all energy you had to keep you up was depleted; a nearly drowned-out whimper emitting. Billy saw the coffee mug you had been using as an ashtray and dropped the cigarette instantly, using both arms to tug you into his lap.

Billy held you in a fetal position, gently and slowly squeezing you into his chest as he needed to feel you close; and you evidently needed to feel physical love. Billy had to gulp harshly when he felt your tears soak his shirt first, then the jerking of your shoulders; quivering of your body. This long week had finally caught up.

"Baby," he sighed, kissing your forehead. And instead of asking the idiotic and repetitive 'are you okay?', Billy instead just asked in a hush, "Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"

Through your tears, you answered in a hiccuping-hush, "I didn't want it to be real."

Billy just sighed again, pulling you in tighter so you set under his chin. He let you simply rest, he just wanted to feel close to you... But something caught his eye. About three feet from you was your slumped, turned-over backpack; spewing contents as if it had been tossed aside in a fit of rage. What was interesting, though, was the crumpled pieces of paper; at least one sporting a huge, uppercase F circled in red marker.

"Yeah?" He whispered, sighing as he wanted to bite his tongue but couldn't. "Seems real enough to fuck up your grades though, huh?"

"I can retake the tests."

"You're gonna have to study."

"I know... 'S kinda hard to study here, though. Can't really focus on anything when all that's, you know, going on."

"No shit, Sherlock."

You snorted through your tears, "Don't make me laugh, I'm sad."

He smirked, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Listen, I'll just... We'll go to the library for tonight, and after, we can go to my place. How's that?"

"Thought you weren't allowed overnight visitors?"

"I'm not, but sneakin' inna my place can't be worse than tryna focus while here, right? Gotta be better than listening to this shit."

You nodded against his neck as a distant glass shattered, making you relent, "Touché."

"C'mon," he decided, kissing your forehead again, "pack a bag, baby. You're comin' with me - don't gotta stay here. Not tonight. Gonna come stay with me."

You pulled back just enough to ask, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, pretty girl," he smirked, caressing your cheek. "Might even let you do that green face goop thing you love bothering me about."

"It's an avocado face mask, and when your skin is literally glowing, you can thank me then."

Billy grinned down at you, taking the moment to swoop down and connect your lips in a long kiss; breathing each other in. When a second shatter sounded from downstairs, you flinched away, but Billy was quick to hush, "Hey, hey, hey," and when your eyes met his, he assured, "you're safe with me. Always safe with me." You nodded, tears shining in your eyes. "And you don't ever have to hide these parts of you - not from me. Never from me. I love you, pretty girl," he whispered, "and all parts that make you exactly who you are. Family included."

"I don't deserve you," you whispered.

"Nah, what you don't deserve is dealing with this shit. So, c'mon, get a bag together. We'll come back for what you need later, but get something together for the weekend."

You thanked him with a kiss, and while you got your things together, Billy mutely reached out to examine the pages in his grasp. He sighed, noting the three different failing tests and knew he had to "step up" his "boyfriend game" if he truly wanted to help you; and for the first time, he knew, without any selfish motives, he honestly did. He figured, for all you've done for him, providing you with something akin to a safe environment was a drop in the bucket; shoving those tests back into your school bag, standing, and helping you gather the last of your necessities.

Who needed slutty cheerleaders in soaped-up bikinis when this, right here, was what true love was? Shockingly, not Billy Hargrove.

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove stranger things #stranger things #stranger things billy #billy stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove one shot #dacre montgomery

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saberlight1 · 11 months ago

Text

exes and oh’s — billy the kid

pairing: billy bonney x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, Y/N usage, established relationship, possessive!billy, arguments, standard billy the kid warnings.

authors note: im starting to think i have a problem.. 3 fics in one day lmfao. this one was based off of this request— thank you anon. i hope you all enjoy this one <33

masterlist

Ever since the day Billy had asked you to be his, he had thought the constant bugging of men around you would come to an end. But it seemed to be that the Bonney man only noticed those men’s stares towards you even more.

He sat at the bar you currently worked as he watched yet another man eye you from the corner of the room. It made his blood boil, his knuckles turning white from the harsh grip on his shot glass.

“Baby, leave the glass alone.” You teased with that charming smile that made him weak in the knees. “It ain’t done nun’ to ya,”

He put it down, your soft southern accent making his anger simmer down in a instant. “Sorry, honey.”

“What’s got you starin’ daggers over there?” You re-poured his now empty glass with whiskey.

“Them men starin’ at you.” His eyes darkened as he looked at you through his brows, his fingertips circling the rim of the shot glass.

Your tongue darted out across your bottom lip at his admission, his words making a deep want towards your outlaw settle in your gut knowing how protective he was of you.

“They can look all they want, darlin’.” You tried to ease his anger with a gentle voice. “You’re the only one that I’d ever let touch me—you know that.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust.” He murmurs as he leans back, his eyes boring into yours.

“Hey, foxy..” One of the men he was talking about now stood in front of you, slurring his words. “You’re mighty fine, mind if we.. talk somewhere privately?” He winked, making you want to throw up. “I’d love to see how you look under them fine clothes of yours,”

You looked him up and down in disgust. “I’m alright, sir. Got someone else in mind for tonight,” You looked at Billy from the corner of your eye, your cowboy smirking up at you. You sighed as you went to grab the drunken man’s glass to refill—he was still a customer after all.

His grueling grip caught your wrist before you could even grab the glass—almost pulling you over the bar.

“You little bitch, can’t take a real man, huh?” He spat as you let out a yelp, trying to get out of his grasp.

“Back the fuck off.” Billy’s menacing figure appeared from beside the man, throwing the man back by his shoulder, causing him to fall on his ass.

He groaned, but was back on his feet within seconds. “The fuck it mean to you, huh? I wan’ her, so she’s mine.”

The second the man finished his sentence, Billy’s fast fist made contact with his jaw hard, the man being back to his spot on the floor. “Don’t you ever fuckin’ say those words about her.” He hissed, leaning down to place more punches to the man’s bloodied face. You watched in a mixture of horror and admiration—mostly admiration.

The man below him only let out a cackle in return. “Oh, I see. She’s your whore,” He spat blood into Billy’s face, and you swore the whole room stopped at his words.

Billy’s cocked back arm stopped at his words, and within seconds his pistol was pointed at the man’s forehead. “What did you just say?” He yelled. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you—”

You grabbed his forearm, pulling him back up. “Billy, please—” He turned to you, panting as you tried to calm that wild look in his eye. “That piece of shit ain’t worth it, c’mon, baby.” Your eyes flickered between his, and after a moment, he sighed before relenting and putting the gun away.

“Yeah, gotta get your bitch to sort out your favors—” The man continued to talk shit, but Billy cut him off with a swift kick to the ribs.

“Shut the fuck up.” Billy rasped out, looking down upon the man.

“C’mon,” You pulled his hand, taking him to the room in the back. You were glad it was around last call—the bar being mainly empty. You sat him down on some old crates before you turned to grab the spare med-kit you had hidden back there months prior.

Once you had everything ready, you held your hand out, signaling Billy to hand you his cut and bruised knuckles. He did, knowing better than to argue with you on the matter.

Your heart sank in your chest when you first saw them. “Billy, you’ve gotta stop gettin’ into fights over me.” You whispered, your eyes not leaving his hand.

His other hand reached out to angle your jaw so your eyes would met his. “Darlin’, I’m never gon’ stop fightin’ for you. You know that.” He shook his head with a smile. “He ain’t even get a lick in—I’m fine.”

“I know you can handle yourself.” You mutter in reply. “I just don’t like seein’ you hurt. Regardless of how bad—I don’t like it. Nor do I like watchin’ you put yourself in danger for me.” You retort with a pointed look.

His gaze lowered. “Now, lady, let’s not pretend you haven’t done the same. I’ve witnessed some pretty crazy cat fights after hours at the boardin’ house,” He teased, his hand now cupping your jaw.

You sighed, trying to fight back the smile that threatened to break free. “Jus’ please, be careful.”

“Always am.” He leaned forward to kiss the frown off your face, his hands sliding down your body in order to squeeze your hips.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him closer to your body as you smiled against his lips.

He pulled back, leaning his forehead onto yours. You both sat there for a couple of moments, enjoying the comfortable silence.

You placed one last kiss to his plump lips. “Alright, let me see that hand of yours.” You asked, and when he placed it into yours, you got to work. You disinfected and bandaged it to ensure it wouldn’t get an infection. “That should do it,” You whispered as you finished tying the cloth, leaning down to press a kiss to his knuckles. “Thank you for defendin’ me, honey.”

You swore that even in the darkness of the room you were currently in that you could see his cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “I’m always gon’ defend you, baby.” He whispered, pulling you up by your hand to place you in his lap, his arms slithering around you as he placed a kiss to your cheek. He went quiet for a moment before he turned to grab something. You looked at him questionably when you saw that glint in his eye.

He smirked as he placed his signature hat onto your head. “There.” He admired his work as he fixed your hair, styling it to compliment the hat. “That should tell all those fuckers that you’re mine.”

Your teeth sunk into his bottom lip at his words as your eyes flickered between his. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” You whispered, the tip of his hat hitting his head as you leaned in to reconnect your lips again.

He didn’t mind—he thought it looked better on you anyways.

#anon asks #tbosas #coriolanus snow #billy antrim #billy bonney x fem reader #billy antrim x reader #billy bonney #billy the kid #billy bonney x reader #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid gifs #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #coriolanus snow x reader #coryo snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader

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astrcmoni · 2 months ago

Text

✮⋆˙⭒NIGHTS LIKE THIS✮⋆˙⭒

CHAPTER I: ALL HAIL NIGHTRIDER

pairing: street racer!reader x billie eilish

MASTERLIST

warnings- cussing, drug use (weed), scorches (something fell on you and lightly and briefly burned you, that’s really it.)

wc: 3.7k…damn

authors note: this is my first actual fic on here and i’m nervous as hell to publish it. let me know what y’all think. also anyone can read this (reader is fem tho i forgot to put that) like reader is not heavily described only physical descriptions would be through family descriptions.

“Dude, where the hell am I supposed to go?” Billie’s voice was almost swallowed by the bustling crowd as she called out to her friend on the phone.

“I said—” Her friend’s voice was distorted, breaking up as the connection faltered. Between the weak signal, the endless chatter of people crowding around her, and the constant bumping of bodies as she waded through the sea of strangers, Billie was overstimulated and ready to turn around and go home.

She raised her phone high in the air, stretching her arm up in a desperate attempt to catch a stronger signal. She stood like that for a good minute, nudging into people who glared or muttered curses under their breath. Her frustration melted into relief when she felt a hand grasp her forearm, spinning her around.

“God, there you are man.” she exhaled in relief when she realized it was her friend. “I’ve been literally shouting at my phone like i’m insane. People keep fucking staring at me,” she added, casting side-eyes at the annoyed faces around her as she moved closer to her best friend.

“Well, I’ve got you now, so let’s just go,” her friend laughed, wrapping an arm around Billie’s shoulders and steering her through the throng of people to where the rest of the group was gathered.

They came to a halt in front of a crooked, black wire fence embedded into the patchy grass and dirt. The track lay just beyond, close enough that she could see the dust and rubble scattered on the pavement.

Billie’s breath hitched as she stared out at the cars lined up on the track. She leaned against the fence, eyes wide and mouth agape, taking in every gleaming detail—some vehicles boasted flashy modifications, while others were classic models still in their original forms. Her excitement and awe were almost childlike, as if she were experiencing the best Christmas of her life.

“How much are you betting?” one of her friends asked, snapping her out of her trance.

“Huh?” Billie replied, still entranced by the sight before her, eyes glistening under the bright floodlights.

“I said, who are you betting on and how much? I might match it,” the friend whispered as if it were a closely guarded secret.

“Uh—shit, man, I don’t know. Lemme see.”

Her gaze swept over the cars lined up from back to front, her eyes scanning each driver hanging around their vehicles—likely waiting for the race to start. And then, she spotted it. You.

Or rather, your car.

A smooth, lustrous, sable-black custom GT500 sat front and center. The tires glowed faintly in a soft lilac hue, casting a mesmerizing light over the soot-covered terrain. A raven, intricately engraved on the back right side of the car, shimmered with deep violet accents, giving the vehicle an almost ethereal quality.

You sat at the very front of the starting line, so close to the crowd that if you focused, you could catch snippets of their conversations. Your windows, tinted so dark no one could see inside, were rolled down halfway, allowing the warm glow of lights from the track and your car’s interior to cast delicate shadows across your face. Soft music drifted from the vehicle, mingling with the cacophony of the streets.

‘To take my love away, when I come back around, will I know what to say?’

Billie’s eyes widened and her heart jumped a little when she realized what song was playing softly from your car. She knew that song. The melody, the lyrics—it was Chihiro.

Her song.

“Oh my God, Zoe, she’s playing my song!” she blurted out excitedly.

“Who? Billie, who?”

“Her, right there in the black car.”

“The one with the bird?”

“Yes, the one with the fucking bird.”

“Can you tell who it is?”

“Uh…no.” Billie squinted, trying to make out your face, but all she could see was your hair cascading down your back in a cascade of purple and grey highlights. You seemed engrossed in something in your lap, brows furrowed in concentration.

Your car chimed as the door opened and rocked slightly as someone climbed into the passenger seat. The radio’s bass thrummed louder into the night as the beat dropped along with the chorus.

“Oh my God, you’re still rolling up? This is why I get pre-rolls,” the passenger teased, irritation lacing their tone as they glanced at you. The irritation in her voice made you smirk, but you kept your eyes on the blunt you were carefully twisting between your fingers.

You lifted your head, resting your elbow on the armrest. “But they don’t look as pretty as this one, now do they?” you teased back, handing over the blunt you’d been working on. The passenger rolled her eyes but took it from you, holding it delicately in the air inspecting it.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she grumbled. Her long acrylic nails clicked against the blunt as she placed it in her mouth with practiced ease and sparked it up with a flick of her lighter. The cherry of the blunt glowed a vibrant ember in the dim light as she inhaled.

Her red and black racing suit, with the name Blaze stitched onto the left sleeve, fit snugly against her frame. Silky, pressed black hair, highlighted with streaks of red and pink, fell to her upper back in waves and curls, framing her sun-kissed face. Her slender brown eyes gleamed with a look of concern as she exhaled, the scent of weed wafting through the car.

A ping sounded from your phone, drawing you back in. You picked it up, eyes narrowing at the notification:

11 new messages from Mom

“You good?” she asked, leaning over to glance at your screen.

“No. It’s my mom again. She’s been blowing up my phone ever since I left this morning.” You sighed and took the blunt from her hand, not caring about the remnants of her sticky lip gloss left on the wrap. You knew your lips would leave the same trace. She took your phone, unlocking it without hesitation. You knew she’d handle it while you leaned back, taking a long drag, your gaze drifted to the night sky, watching how the stars shimmered against the inky backdrop.

“I keep thinking that this is a bad dream, and that if I try hard enough, I just might wake up,” you murmured.

“Yeah, well, this sad-ass music isn’t helping,” she joked. As if on cue, the next track started—an upbeat tempo that vibrated through the car’s interior. your heart beat matched as the bass trembled throughout your body. ej bounced in her seat, trying to lighten the mood.

“Uht-uh,” you protested, disconnecting your phone from the Bluetooth. “Don’t go changing my shit. My car, my music. You know the rules. Besides, it’s not sad.”

“Yes, it is. That’s like Billie Eilish’s whole schtick, isn’t it?” she scoffed. “Oh, by the way, she’s here.”

“Who?” You turned to look at her, confused.

“Billie. Eilish. The singer. She’s right over there,” she said, pointing.

You leaned over her, eyes darting around the crowd. “Where? I don’t see her.” All you saw were the flag bearers collecting extra bets on the side, cash being shuffled and tossed in baskets.

“Wait, what? Where?”

“Over there—” She pointed, and you leaned over her, eyes darting around.

“Oh my god, girl, she’s *right over there*!” your friend shouted, exasperated.

Hearing this, Billie looked over. Blue eyes met yours. EJ’s shout of frustration caught Billie’s attention, and her gaze drifted back to your car. She lifted her hand in a tentative wave, offering a soft smile.

Your eyes widened in panic. Instead of waving back, both you and EJ ducked, bumping into your friend in the process, shouting curses at each other. The forgotten blunt fell into your lap, searing through your suit and burning you in the process.

“Ah—damn it,” you muttered, picking it up and handing it to her. Her soft hands brushed against yours as she took it, putting it out and storing the remnants in a container before stuffing it in the glove compartment.

“You looked so rude. You should’ve waved back.” EJ chided, side-eyeing you.

“Shut up,” you muttered, reconnecting your phone to the car. The opening notes of “Goosebumps” by Travis Scott filled the space, the beat thrumming through your body.

“Listen, I get that you’re going through a lot right now, but I need you to lock the fuck in. You need that money, and I’d hate to see you lose.”

“I know. I’ve got it. Don’t worry.”

“Good, ‘cause it’d be a shame for me to wipe the floor with your ass. You’ll be begging for mercy when we’re done.” Her sudden switch to competitiveness made you laugh.

The sight of the flag girl approaching your car caught your attention. You watched as your friend climbed out and into her own car. The flag bearer checked to make sure you were set before returning to her position at the starting line.

“Ready, Rider?”

Even though you were wearing your riding gear, the hairs on your body stood up as the crisp breeze snuck through the open window and washed over you. Your arm dangled out of the car, fingers loosely tapping against the exterior, while your other hand gripped the steering wheel firmly. The hum of your car vibrated through your entire being, a calming rhythm that matched the beat of your heart. Around you, the other drivers started revving up their engines, plumes of smoke and gas curling up into the air, mixing with the noise of the restless crowd.

"As ready as I can be." you called out, turning your gaze to your best friend and rival. Her car was parked right beside yours—an M4 F82 that was as sleek and black as the night sky. Its red headlights burned like fiery eyes glaring through the darkness like a beast ready to pounce, and the rims, designed into the shape of hearts, shone brightly against the pavement.

You remembered how she’d insisted on having them when you guys went to pick out your first racing cars. “Because I’m ‘just a girl’ ” she’d declared, sticking up her middle finger at the guys who laughed at her. She’d never cared what anyone thought, not when she’d made them eat their words in nearly every race, leaving them in the dust while looking good doing it.

The hum of motors built into a crescendo as everyone continued to rev their engines, the anticipation and excitement electrifying the brisk night air.

“Is everyone ready?” The flag bearer stepped in front of the starting line, checkered flags poised high in the air. Shouts of agreement and cheers erupted from the crowd, adding to the energy of the moment.

You hovered your foot over the gas pedal, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Ready.”

You glanced at the starting line, taking a deep breath as your fingers tightened around the wheel. Eyes closed, you drew in a deep breath, focusing. All the energy, anger, and frustration from earlier started bubbling up to the surface.

“Set.”

With your eyes shut, the words from this morning's argument with your parents flashed through your mind:

“You’ll never be like him.”

“Racing isn’t something you can do forever.”

“You need to fix your shit. This hobby will get you nowhere.”

“You’ve become such a disappointment. What happened to you? Where did I go wrong?”

All that pain, all that bitterness—you channeled it, letting it fuel you.

“Go!”

The words barely left her mouth before your eyes flew open. For a brief moment, the world went still and everything seemed to fall away. It was just you, your car, and the road. Your foot pressed down on the gas pedal, and you took off, the lilac lights on your car morphing into an intense, inky purple as your tires gripped the pavement.

You felt weightless, like a feather caught in the wind, as you accelerated, the track lights casting an ethereal glow over the cars. The world blurred around you, every twist and turn coming effortlessly, your hands moving as if on instinct.

A constant ringing broke through your focus. Your phone vibrated repeatedly, the lit screen showing multiple notifications. You took a quick glance, irritation flaring up as you scrolled through them.

- 5 new missed calls from Mom

- 20 new texts from Fam GC

- 2 new voicemails from Mama J

- 3 new texts from Dad

Your fingers hovered over the voicemail from Mama J, your heart tightening as you reluctantly hit play.

“Hey sweetheart. Now I don’t know what’s happening between you and your parents, but they’re blowing up my phone, asking about you…” You rolled your eyes in annoyance. Typical of them to involve someone else when you refused to entertain their bullshit. “I’m not trying to get in between this, but what I will say is that you need to call them people. Or at least call your mother and stop running away fr—”

You turned off your phone and tossed it back into the passenger seat, jaw clenched in frustration. You loved your Mama J, but you weren’t in the mood to hear any more of that nonsense. Not now, not during this. You got enough of it from your parents, you don’t need to hear it from your godmother either.

Your grip on the wheel tightened as your chest rose and fell with deep, heavy breaths. The fight with your parents played on a loop in your head, every word an echo that grew louder and more taunting.

‘Look, all I’m saying is that I don’t understand why you continue to choose racing when you know how I feel about it—how we feel about it.’

‘Ma, I get where you’re coming from,but—‘

‘I’m telling you right now, you will get nothing from this. You already have a good job—why must you go and ruin it by doing this foolish nonsense?’

“Fuck this. Like, actually fuck them.” You muttered the words aloud, forgetting for a moment that the line was still open, and your best friend, EJ, was listening on the other end.

“Yo, are you good? Like actually?” Her voice was laced with concern, crackling through the car’s speakers and snapping you back to reality.

“Y-yeah, I think so. Why?”

“Because you’re falling so behind that Nick is beating you. Mind you he literally can’t race for shit. Girl, c’mon!”

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, eyes darting to the rearview mirror. Sure enough, you were lagging behind. The other drivers had taken advantage of your distraction, speeding past and leaving you in the dust.

“And stop worrying about what my mama said. She’s just playing messenger. We’ll handle it when we get home, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” You nodded even though she couldn’t see you, your foot pressing down harder on the gas pedal.

“It will be okay, just hurry your ass up.”

The car lurched forward as you pushed it to its limits, the rush of adrenaline pumping through your blood like fire. Everything else melted away—the arguing voices in your head, the messiness of the family drama—all of it evaporated, leaving just you and the open road. You swerved expertly between cars, dodging obstacles and maneuvering through sharp turns, the wind roaring in your ears.

This—right here, right now—this was freedom. This was why you kept coming back, no matter how bad things got. The thrill, the speed, the way your heart seemed to beat in time with the roar of your engine. It made all the god forsaken bullshit in your life disappear, if only for a little while.

The white of the finish line came into view, a grin breaking across your face as you accelerated one last time, crossing it just seconds before anyone else.

You’d placed first.

You pressed on the brakes, heart pounding wildly as you let out a shaky breath, leaning back in your seat.

“Congrats! See what happens when you block out the bullshit and focus?” EJ’s voice rang out as she parked beside you, hopping out and pulling you into a hug.

The two of you leaned against the hood of your car, laughing and catching your breath, your excitement palpable. You could hear someone shouting your name, prompting you to look around until your eyes landed on the culprit.

“What the fuck, dude,” she whispered to her best friend as she stared in awe.

“What?” Zoe asked, glancing back and forth between you and Billie. “Billie, you’ve been staring at her all night. Let’s just go say hey.” she wrangled with the gate until she got it open.

“I did though. I waved, and she hid from me,” Billie grumbled, but Zoe ignored her, practically dragging her over to where you were standing.

You turned and your eyes locked with Billie’s for the second time that night. This time, she took you in fully, studying every detail—the way your eyes gleamed under the lights, how your glossed lips shone, and the soft cascade of purple and grey streaks of hair framing your face.

“Oh my god, Zoe, is that you?” You greeted Zoe first, pulling her into a tight hug as the two of you exchanged a few words. Then, you turned your gaze back to Billie, offering a small smile.

“Who’s your friend here?” you asked, nodding towards Billie.

“Sorry, this is my best friend, Billie.”

“Well, hi Billie,” you said, your tone gentle and welcoming. The way her name rolled off your lips made Billie’s stomach do a little flip. You kept your gaze steady, not once breaking eye contact. “How’d you enjoy the race?”

“I really liked it.” Billie smiled softly, but before she could say more, Zoe chimed in.

“This is her first race. I practically had to drag her here.”

“Really?” You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “Well, I’m glad you came. Who’d you bet on?”

“I didn’t get a chance. The race started too soon. But if I could’ve, it would’ve been you. Your car looked sweet as hell.” She rocked on her heels, trying to keep her cool, but you could tell she was nervous. It was cute.

“Thanks, I appreciate the support.”

She shrugged casually, but her eyes lingered on your face. “It’s whatever.”

“Is there something on my face?” You laughed, wiping at your cheeks just in case.

“No, no,” she stammered, shaking her head. “It’s just… you’re so gorgeous.”

The compliment caught you off guard, and you couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across your face, even though you tried to play it off. “Oh my god, girl, stop playing.”

“I’m serious,” she insisted, stepping closer.

“Could say the same about you, pretty.”

“Really?” Billie’s eyebrow quirked. “Because it didn’t seem like it when you hid from me earlier.”

“Shit, you saw that?” You asked, rubbing the back of your neck. “I normally would’ve waved back, but I got—I don’t know—scared, I guess. Well, not scared—” You trailed off, looking up at the night sky, searching for the right word as her laughter rang out. Hearing her laugh threw you off, causing a small grin to creep up on your face. “Okay, whatever the fuck the word is,” you muttered, giving up with a light chuckle of your own. “But... I’m sorry.”

“Nah, don’t sweat it. it was kinda cute.” Billie’s eyes did another slow sweep over your frame, lingering on every detail like she was trying to commit it to memory.

“Stop looking at me like that, bro.”

“Like what?”

“Like that.” You shook your head, glancing away as if that’d hide the heat creeping up your cheeks and the way your smile stretched wider every second. You turned your gaze back, realizing something. “Where’s Zoe?” She was supposed to be around somewhere, helping you avoid embarrassing yourself too much with your obvious—and very clumsy—flirting. But she was nowhere in sight.

Your eyes swept over the parking lot until you finally spotted her lounging on the hood of EJ’s car, chatting it up with your best friend.

“Hey, uh—do you maybe wanna take my car for a ride?” you blurted out, shifting your weight between your feet.

Billie’s eyes widened, surprise flashing across her face. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, why not? It’ll just be a few minutes.”

She wandered over, running her fingers along the sleek lines of your car, eyes alight with curiosity. “Damn, this is really something,” she murmured almost to herself, voice low. A small whistle escaped her as she took in the intricate details and custom work. You were just about to toss her the keys when—

*Woop Woop*

The sound of sirens pierced through the air. Blue and red lights started flooding the lot, casting sharp, flickering shadows everywhere.

“Fuck. Okay, y’all need to get out of here. Now.” Your voice was rushed as you bolted back to the driver’s side.

“EJ, I’ll meet you at your house,” you shouted, throwing yourself into your seat and jamming the key into the ignition. The roar of your engine masked the rising panic around you. “Zoe’s got my number,” you called out to Billie over the commotion. “She’ll give it to you, and we can talk about that ride later!” That was the last thing you managed to say before you and everyone else peeled out of the lot, tires screeching against the pavement as a sea of cop cars closed in fast.

Billie stood there, frozen, eyes locked on your car as you sped away. The flashing red and blue lights reflected off her pale face, her expression caught somewhere between awe and disbelief. Zoe had to physically drag her back, yanking her arm until she stumbled out of her daze.

“C’mon, we have to go now!”

You glanced into your rearview mirror, catching one last glimpse of Billie as she stood rooted to the spot, staring after you. Zoe tugged her along, but she kept looking back, even as the sirens blared louder and the chaos around them spiraled.

There was no way EJ wouldn’t hear every single detail about tonight. If she thought you weren’t about to gush for the next few hours, she was just plain wrong.

authors note: part 2? if so comment something to let me know if you want to be on the taglist! love and light, be safe <3 -vay

#billie eilish x reader #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #billie eilish gf #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x you #astrcmoni

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13irteennn · 2 months ago

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AU WHERE BILL GETS BORN AS A HUMAN AFTER THERAPRISM BUT GETS SENT BACK TO THE 50S AS A TRIANGLE BORN FROM A HUMAN, AND HE FALLS IN LOVE WITH STAN AND FORD AND HES FROM JERSEY SO HIS ACCENT IS SUPER THICK!!!!!!!!! please i need any one to understand the agony im in rewriting this GODDAMNED SHOW!!!!!

HE GETS A JOB!! HAS TO PAY TAXES AND PEOPLE ARE JUST OKAY??? WITH HIM BEING A TRIANGLE SOMEHOW (except the govt bc wtf is that freaky ass thing

Please im begging save me from this bitch

THEYD!!! HATE HIM!!! HE THINKS HES BETTER!!!! (Handyman bill belongs to @losanpostle on twt and mr bill pines belongs to @@honeqqu on twt

__________________

I even went as far as to address the goddamn paradox of bill no londer exsisting and it completely throws ford down a different path that STILL ENDS UP WITHA FUCKING PORTAL BC HIS OWN HUBRIS!!!! Mans is hunted by the cia smhhh. Bc instead of this!!!

Theres empty voids of worship and ford becomes obsessed,,,,

Anyway his full name is William Brooks Conway, he goes by Bill, William, Billy (only his ma calls him that) or Brooks (only stanley calls him that)

#just a guy bill #gravity falls #gravity falls au #billstan #bill cipher #stanbill #the book of bill #billford #stanbillford #just a guy au #my art #reincarnated bill cipher #theraprism makes you poly and GAY #13irteennn

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eymie · 10 months ago

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SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY !

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

warnings: smut, alcohol, fingering, oral (m. receiving), praise, riding, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

summary: you meet while tending to your grandfather saloon while he’s ill. you can help but take a liking to him.

a/n: i kind of hate this so much

You spent a significant amount of time in your grandfathers saloon. At least in the past couple years you have. You knew all the regulars, good or bad. You weren't good at tending to the bar but you could pour a glass of whiskey if your grandfather needed help. That's what most men wanted anyway.

You always recognized new faces, and you recognized that this man was new. You had heard whispers of an outlaw in town, you didn't care for rumors.

You were tending to the bar alone again. It was the time of day where the saloon was almost empty. That new face sat down at the bar, head hung low.

"Whiskey?" He looked up at you, his blue eyes meeting yours. He nodded and you poured him a glass, sliding it over to him. You tended to a few other customers but it was almost closing time.

"How long you open?" You heard the voice say, you turned to meet that mans gaze again. His glass was empty and his fingers drummed on the edge of the table

"Not too much longer I'm afraid." You smile, wiping down a table. You walk over to the bar he sat at, wiping off some spilled whiskey. "I can give you another round, if you'd like."

"Yes ma'am." He said, watching you walk over to grab the bottle again. You laughed to yourself, turning to refill his glass.

"You don't gotta call me ma'am." Ma'am made you feel old, you were not old. He wasn't either, just around your age if you were to assume. Although the eyebags and dirt on his cheeks might disguise that.

"I don't know what else you'd like me to call you." He laughed, hanging his head back down low. He looked back up, waiting for you to tell him your name.

"Well, I don't even know your name." You tossed the cloth back into the bucket, sitting down next to Billy. Resting your head on your fist.

"Billy." He stated, cutting it short.

It registered to you who he was. The outlaw, Billy the kid. You didn't care, who cares if he was dangerous when he was chatting with you like any other gentleman.

"Billy what?" You smiled, trying to ease out his last name. HIs smile dropped, twiddling with his hands.

"Don't matter." All he said, it was true, didn't matter all. You knew who he was, he probably knew that you knew. He didn't have an accent like any of the boys you knew. You liked how foreign he sounded to you.

"Suppose not." You shrug, standing up to clean up the rest of the saloon. Pushing in the chair that the men had forgotten to. There were cards left out on the tables, along with some empty glasses.

"I suppose you should be locking up right about now." He reminded you, you turned to look at him. You liked how messy his brown hair was under his hat. Was it too embarrassing to flirt with this man, an outlaw?

"You can stay longer, if you'd like of course." You wanted him to stay, as long as he liked. You didn't want him to leave at all. "I don't mind at all."

It was silent for a few moment, the only noises being the clinking of glasses you picked up.

"You got a man?" It came off as a surprise. You turned to him who patiently awaited your answer.

"I do not I'm afraid." You tell him, walking back over to where he was. You waited a few seconds before speaking up again. "You got a girl?"

"No time for that." He'd been with a few women in his time, never keeping them too long. You felt a sense of relief wash over you knowing he didn't have a girl.

"Me neither." The men in town weren't anyone that interested you. The men your age were fools, drunken fools. Some of them had women and were getting married. The other ones were wastes of good air.

"Not sure I believe that." He wasn't entirely wrong. Sometimes men took a liking to you, not that you had paid much attention to them. There had only been a few that caught your interest.

"Why not?" You ask innocently, untying your apron and hanging it it up.

"A pretty girl like you, young and running a bar. Bet you're meeting suitors everyday." Everyday was exaggerated but he was right enough. A saloon full of men had its pros and cons.

"I suppose so, I haven't met one that interests me yet." You shrug, looking over at him. He caught you gaze, knowing exactly what you wanted. "Well, until now."

"You live here?" He asked, eyeing the stairs in the corner of the room leading to a loft.

"Yeah, just upstairs." You nod, backing up towards the stairs with Billy following after you. "Why? You wanna come see?"

"I think I'd like that."

Billy swallowed the last of his whiskey, leaving the empty class on the counter. He followed after you up the stairs to the loft. It wasn't much but it was yours. Billy's hands traveling to your hips from behind. Feeling the fabric of your dress between his fingers.

You turned around, smelling the whiskey on his breath. He kissed along your neck and jawline before he dares kiss you. When he does, you couldn't but moan into his mouth. Your hands pulling his face in deeper. He pulls your skirt up as far as he could before you pulling his hands off. You pull away from his face, falling to your knees in front of him.

His hand caresses your cheek, tilting your face up. His thumb brushes your lips, parting them. You welcome his thumb into your mouth, wrapping your lips around it. He pushed his thumb harder against your tongue.

"Good girl," He pulls his hand from you, your mouth releasing his thumb with a loud pop. You wait patiently as he unbuttons and zips down his pants. You help pull them down far enough to reveal his boxer. You look up at him awaiting his approval, he nods down at you.

You pull down his boxer, revealing his hard length. It was long, a slight curve to it. The prettiest one you've ever seen. He watches as you spit on your hand, wrapping your fingers around his cock. You stroke him experimentally, he groaned at the feeling, throwing back his head. Your tongue runs along the vein running along the underside of his cock.

"That's it-- Ohh, fuck." He groans as you suck his tip into your mouth. His hands travel to your hand, threading his fingers in it. You pushed you head down as far as you could, his tip hitting the back of your throat. "So warm and wet-- good girl."

You stroke his cock where your mouth can't reach. He bucks his hips, his cock poking at the back of your throat making you sputter. Tears brimming your eyes as you take him as far into your throat as you can, causing you to gag around his length.

"Shit--" He groans, throwing his head back as you bob your head. Your cheeks hollowing as you suck harder, silently begging for him to cum in your throat. "I'm--fuck, I'm coming."

Your eyes roll back as his hot seed spills down your throat, the salty taste on your tongue. You pull of his cock, sitting on the ground in front of him. You swallow what he gave you, sticking out your tongue to show him.

"God, you're something else." He pulled back her head, making him look up at him. You look up at him with glossy eyes and the taste of him on your tongue. He pulls you back up to your feet, pulling you in. He kissed you like he was starved, he felt starved of you. His hands pull at the lacing off your corset, pulling it open.

Your corset felling to the ground in between your feet. Billy was quick with his hands, pulling at the fabric of your clothes. His calloused hands rub your soft skin, pulling the rest of your clothing off. Your dress fell the floor, next your bloomers.

Your delicate fingers tugged at the buttons of his shirt, pulling it open. You kissed along his jaw, and down his neck. You teeth grazed his pale skin, nipping and sucking at it. Soft purple bruises decorating his skin. His hands pulled your bare skin against him, his hands grazing the fat of your breasts. He walked you backwards towards the bed until your legs hit the frame.

Billy laid you down against the bed, discarding the last of his clothes. You laid sprawled against your white sheets as he crawled over you. His hands spreading your thighs, sliding down to your wet folds. His teeth grazed your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. His tongue swirling around your hard nipple.

"Wait-- Billy," His mouth engulfs any words you have left. Swallowing them into the kiss. Two fingers push past your folds, sinking into your wet pussy. Your tight walls stretching out around his thick fingers. Thick than yours, longer too.

You whined into his kiss, his fingers speeding up. Your walls clench around them, jerking your hips up. His thumb rubs along your swollen clit that begged for attention.

You pulled back from the kiss. "Billy, wait Billy. Let me ride you."

Billy groaned into your neck, pulling his fingers from your pussy. They were wet with your juices, smearing it onto your thighs.

"Open," You opened your mouth, sucking his fingers in your mouth. Your juices mixing with your saliva. He pulled his fingers from your wet mouth, pulling you on top of him. "Come on now, keep your word."

You furrowed your brows as Billy placed his hat on top of your head. His hard cock presses against your ass, dripping precum from the tip. You slowly lift your hips above him, directing his tip to your entrance. Sliding down, his girth stretching you wider than before. Your hands press against his chest for stability. Billy throws his head against the pillow, his hands sliding down to your hips helping you rise up and slide back down.

"Just like that." Billy's hands gripped your hips, guiding your hips up and down. His hips thrusted up to meet yours. Whimpers leaving your lips as his cock brushes your cervix.

"God, Billy--" You moan out, jaw going slack as he thrusts from below. Your walls clench around him, he groaned in respond. His fingertips pressed into the fat of your hips, leaving crescent shaped marks. "Need--Gonna come."

"Mm, come for me." Your hips ground into his, your clit rubbing against his pelvis. Billy pulled you harder down against him, slamming you down. His thumb rubbed at you clit, begging you to come. "That's it, so good for me."

Billy pulled you down against his chest, bending his knees so he fuck into you. He pulled your head into his chest muffling your moans. Your hands scratched at his chest as you came around his cock, relentlessly pounding you through your orgasm.

His hands pulled you off his cock, spilling his seed onto the sheets. You laid against his chest, the hat long fallen off. He panted as he laid back against your sheet, your body collapsed against his chest.

"So good for me."

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