#literally he would be such a little bitch about it too in the best way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harrysfolklore · 5 months ago

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little bitch - cs55

summary: yn piastri and carlos sainz absolutely hate each other. carlos thinks she’s immature, yn calls him a little bitch on social media. they also kiss every now and then. PART TWO

word count: over 10k + social media posts

folkie radio: guys this fic is my baby okay 🥲🥲 please take care of it i spent like two weeks writing it. FEEDBACK IS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED !!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

2023 SEASON

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ynpiastri that’s my optimistic little brother cry about it 😚 see y’all after the break

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username1 LAJSIA SO MESSY

username2 yn really said you will NAWT mess with my little brother

lilyzneimer Love you forever 😂

↳ ynpiastri ilysm

username3 the sainz - piastri drama just spiced this season up

mclaren That’s our boy 🧡

username4 carlos sainz and yn piastri fighting on the internet and oscar is just 🧍

username5 the fact that daniel ricciardo and pierre gasly liked yn’s tweet too 😭

landonorris Stop fighting people on the internet please

↳username1 HELP HIS BESTIES ARE FIGHTING

↳ ynpiastri never 😤

oscarpiastri When nobody got me I know my messy sister got me

↳ username2 I LOVE THEM SM

↳ yourinstagram HE SAID NO PICKLES !!

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"You didn't have to tweet that," Oscar said, giving you a look from his seat.

You were currently traveling from Belgium to Monaco in McLaren's private jet after the race weekend, and the main topic of the day was your little message to Carlos Sainz after his statement about your brother.

"Osc, he's being a petty bitch," you shrugged, "He keeps blaming you for what happened on the track and we all know it was his fault."

"Lando, can you help me out please?" Oscar looked at his teammate, who was immersed on his phone as a way to avoid the conversation.

"Oh no, don't put me in the middle of this," Lando shook his head, "I have enough PR issues myself."

"We know you're siding with your bestie anyways," you said, making him roll his eyes.

This dynamic was nothing new. Lando and Carlos Sainz were best friends, and so were Lando and you. The issue? You couldn't stand Carlos at all, and Lando was always in the middle of your bickering.

Oscar sighed, rubbing his temples as he glanced out of the window. "Look, I appreciate you standing up for me, but sometimes it's better to let things slide. Engaging with him on social media only adds fuel to the fire."

He had a point. Deep down you knew it, however, your were short tempered and protective towards your loved ones, so it was natural that you took the chance to come for Sainz's neck when he gave you a reason to.

"I get it, Osc. I just can't stand seeing him drag your name through the mud when you're not even at fault," you stressed, "You're my little brother, I'll always get protective, you know?"

"I know, and I appreciate you having my back," Oscar said, softening his tone. "But it's not worth it. Like you said, I'm not engaging with whatever he's saying so there's no point of starting stuff."

"He started it, I'm just finishing it," you shrugged, and Oscar gave you a pointed look, you were older than him, but he was definitely more mature than you. "Fine, I'll try to hold back next time," you sighed, leaning back in your seat.

Lando finally looked up from his phone, a smirk on his face. "See, that wasn't too hard, was it? Now, can we all be friends?"

"If that includes Sainz then no, we can't,"

You could never be friends with Carlos Sainz. That was literally impossible.

For starters, you were pretty sure he didn't even know your name, he was always too full of himself to even acknowledge those around him.

And lastly, he was a bitch to your brother on and off track.

"I just, I would really like for you two to get along," Lando said and you immediately rolled your eyes at his words, "You're both important to me, and it sucks being caught in the middle. Plus I don't even understand why do you dislike him so much."

You knew the real reason why you disliked him so much, you perfectly did. However, that was a subject that you decided to ignore every single time.

"Honestly? I find him arrogant. He always acts like he's the center of the universe. He never takes responsibility for his actions and always tries to shift the blame onto others. It's frustrating to watch."

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I get it, but you have to understand, Carlos is actually a good guy once you get to know him. He's passionate and competitive, sure, but he's also loyal and a great friend."

"I get that he's like your hero or something," you teased, "But it's not going to happen, Lando. I don't think I'll ever like Carlos, and I really wish you’d stop pushing the subject."

"Look, you don't have to be his best friend or something," Oscar intervened, "Just promise me you won't punch him when you see him in the paddock after the summer break."

"No promises."

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ynpiastri a weekend in monaco with some of my favorite people 🤍 back to race cars soooon (love being a nepo sister)

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username1 SLAAAY

username2 ahhhh lily x oscar content thank u yn

francisca.cgomes having major fomo rn, love you all babies 🥲

↳ ynpiastri get over hereeeee

username3 she has the dream life

charles_leclerc Stop stealing my girlfriend from me thank you

↳ ynpiastri never

↳ alexandrasaintmleux We’re like this 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

↳ charles_leclerc Don’t do this to me

lilyzneimer 🤍

oscarpiastri I think you just invented the term “nepo sister”

↳ ynpiastri and i’m too iconic for that

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Going to Jimmy'z the last day of the summer break was a tradition among the drivers at this point.

You looked forward to it, for you, nothing could beat a night of loud music, drinks and friends. You thought that was the reason you got along with Lando and quickly became best friends.

“Ready to tear up the dance floor?” Lando shouted over the music, giving you smirk

“Always!” you replied, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the center of the action, Oscar and Lily being their introvert selves decided to stay at the table with some of your friends.

After a few songs, you returned to the table to catch your breath and order another round of drinks.

Oscar looked up from his conversation with Lily and smiled as you approached.

“Having fun?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” you replied, taking a seat next to him. “You two should join us on the dance floor.”

Lily laughed softly. “Maybe later. Right now, we’re enjoying people-watching.”

“Suit yourselves,” you said, shrugging, "I'm going to the bar, does anyone want anything?"

Oscar shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm good."

"I'll have another gin and tonic," Lily said, giving you a warm smile.

"Got it," you replied, turning towards the bar.

As you made your way through the crowded club, you found an open spot at the bar and flagged down the bartender. As you waited for your drinks, you felt someone step up beside you. Glancing to your left, you saw the last person you wanted to run into tonight... or ever.

Carlos Sainz was standing there with what you called his "resting bitch face" and acting like he owned the place.

You knew chances of him being at Jimmy'z for the last day of the summer break were high and you had decided earlier that you were just going to ignore him for the night if you ever ran into him. After all, you were there to have fun, not to get into a confrontation. But you were known for being short-tempered, a stark contrast to your brother's laid-back demeanor.

When you heard Carlos order his drink without so much as a “please,” you couldn't help but call him out.

"Whiskey, neat," he ordered, his tone clipped and lacking any form of politeness, his Spanish accent that you found absolutely irritating coming through.

“A 'please' would be nice, you know,” you interjected.

Carlos turned to you, his brow furrowing. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” you replied coolly. “It's not hard to be polite.”

"Do I know you?" Carlos stared at you for a moment before recognition dawned. “Oh you're Piastri's sister, aren't you?”

“That I am,” you confirmed, your tone equally cold.

“Figures," Carlos scoffed, shaking his head, "You’re the one who sent me that lovely message on Twitter.”

“You deserved every word,” you replied, crossing your arms.

“Did I now?” Carlos leaned closer, his expression hardening. “You don't even know the whole story. You just assume I'm the bad guy because of Oscar."

“I know enough,” you shot back. “I know you never take responsibility for your actions. You always blame someone else.”

“And what about you?," Carlos’s jaw tightened, "Hiding behind your keyboard, throwing insults. That's real mature.”

“Someone had to say it,” you replied, refusing to back down. “You can't just go around acting like you're untouchable.”

“And you can't go around thinking you're some kind of vigilante,” Carlos retorted. “Can't your little brother handle things himself?.”

“Maybe if you weren't such a jerk, people wouldn't have to call you out,” you snapped, feeling your temper flare.

Carlos sighed, clearly frustrated. “Look, I don't have time for this. Just stay out of my way, alright?”

“Gladly,” you replied, turning away from him.

When you rejoined your friends, they noticed your tense expression. Lando shot you a questioning look, but you just shook your head.

"Ask you bestie," you simply said and Lando threw his head back in frustration, once again, he was in the middle of his two best friends tension.

“I’ll talk to him," Lando said, sipping on his drink.

"Don't bother, he's a bitch."

Later that night, Lando found Carlos near the dancefloor chatting with some friends. He pulled him aside, needing to get to the bottom of the latest incident.

“What happened with YN now?” Lando asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

Carlos shrugged before speaking, “I was minding my own business, ordering a drink, and she just came at me."

“And?” Lando raised an eyebrow.

“And she’s just so immature and arrogant,” Carlos continued, “She’s always ready to pick a fight over the smallest things. It’s embarrassing.”

Lando shook his head. “Look, Carlos, YN is protective of Oscar. She sees you two butting heads and she gets defensive. It’s not ideal, but it’s not like she’s completely unreasonable.”

“Well, she sure seems unreasonable to me," Carlos crossed his arms, "I don’t know how you deal with it.”

Lando sighed. “She’s my friend, and so are you. I wish you two could just get along, but I know that’s asking a lot. Just... try to give her a bit of slack, alright? She’s not a bad person.”

"She's insufferable."

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ynpiastri has added to their stories

carlossainz55 replied to your story

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ynpiastri little bitches everywhere, always a pleasure monza

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username1 HEEEELP

username2 she’s so messy we needed this 😭

lilyzneimer I can’t wait to hear this rant in person

↳ username1 LET ME INNNNN

username3 IS THIS CARLOS SHADEEEE

username4 not her adding the radio message

landonorris I would like to be excluded from this narrative

↳ ynpiastri scared of your boyfriend??

↳ username2 THEY’RE SO TALKING ABOUT CARLOS 😭

charles_leclerc Did you call me a little bitch?

↳ ynpiastri you’re literally the only ferrari i like..

↳ username3 she really hates carlos i’m screaming

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The Ferrari hospitality was the last place you wanted to be during a Grand Prix, the mere thought of it being the place where Sainz (or as you liked to call him, the little bitch), was most likely to be kept you away from it.

However, Alex told you to meet her there after the Qualifying so you could leave together for dinner. Oscar and Lando already left with the rest of the team, so you had no choice but to wait for your friend.

"Looking for someone, hermosa?" your eyes immediately rolled without even turning around to see who was speaking, the thick Spanish accent that you despised filling your ears.

"Not for you, that's for sure," you said, not even bothering to face him.

"Are you sure? Because this is not the McLaren garage, did your little bro finally kick you out or something?"

"Sainz," you retorted sharply, finally turning to face him, "Shouldn't you be busy making excuses for your next mediocre performance on track?"

"Ah, always so angry, Piastri," he chuckled, unfazed by your hostility, "Maybe you're just frustrated because you're not getting enough attention. I could help with that."

"I don't need or want anything from you," you shot back, your voice laced with irritation.

Carlos leaned casually against a nearby wall, his smirk widening. "Come on, hermosa, you know you've got a temper. Maybe you just need to let off some steam."

Hermosa, the word he used often when he wanted to get to your skin. When you first heard it, you had no idea of what it meant. You were never good at learning Spanish growing up. But after a quick google translation search you found out that it meant beautiful. And for some reason you felt like throwing up.

"Believe me, Sainz, you're the last person I'd ever turn to," you replied icily, folding your arms across your chest, "And don't call me that."

He chuckled again, seemingly enjoying your discomfort. You wondered how Lando could be friends with him when he was nothing but an arrogant little bitch, and you cursed Alexandra for taking so long to get her stuff from hospitality.

"I hope you know that you have some serious issues, Sainz," you said, your patience wearing thin as his cocky stare weighted on you.

"Issues? Me?," Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your anger, "I think you're the one with the problem, querida. Like I said, maybe you need to get laid. I could help you with that, your brother won't find out."

Your eyes narrowed, your blood boiled to the point where you could feel your skin burning up. If it wasn't for the all the people around, you swore you could've punched him.

You took a step closer to him, your voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "I hope your car sets itself on fire so you're not able to race tomorrow."

Carlos's smirk only widened, he was well aware that he got into your skin and he enjoyed every minute of it. Before he could respond, Alex finally appeared, her eyes flicking between the two of you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Ready to go?" she asked, sensing the tension.

"More than ready," you replied, shooting Carlos one last glare before turning to leave with Alex.

The next day, news spread quickly through the paddock that Carlos' car had suffered a mechanical failure during the warm-up, rendering him unable to compete in the Qatar Grand Prix. Meanwhile, Oscar had won the Sprint and finished P2 in the race.

Karma got that little bitch, you thought to yourself

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ynpiastri season over and out. super proud of you, rookie of the year @/oscarpiastri 🥹

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username1 i’m going to miss this season sm

username2 proud sisssss

mclaren One for the books 🧡

username3 thank you for fighting sainz online all season long bestie

landonorris Little Oscar is all grown up now

↳ ynpiastri don’t say that i’ll cry

lilyzneimer 🫶🫶🫶

username4 highlight of the season was the piastri - sainz beef

↳ username1 not for lando 😭

oscarpiastri Thank you for always supporting me (creating drama online and all) Love you so much ❤️

↳ ynpiastri that’s what big sisters are for

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The end of the 2023 season was a blur of celebrations, laughter, and champagne showers. Oscar had closed off the season as the Rookie of the Year and you couldn't be more proud of him, you were grateful you got to be by his side through it.

And of course, with the end of the season a celebration at Jimmy'z was in order, all drivers, their girlfriends and friends pulling up to Monaco for one last night of partying before the winter break.

You had stuck close to Lando and Oscar for most of the evening, since it was a special occasion, you decided not to hold back with your drinking and have as much fun as you wanted, Lando being your partner in crime as always.

So by 2 a.m, you were pretty drunk, not to the point where you couldn't stand on your own feet, but drunk enough to make a couple of bad decisions.

With that thought on your mind, you decided that it was time to find your brother or best friend and call it a night. But for some reason, both of them were nowhere to be found.

Stumbling through the crowded dance floor, you made your way toward the back of the club, hoping to spot them. The alleyway was dark and you couldn't see a single thing, but they weren't definitely back there.

"Fancy seeing you here, hermosa," a voice behind drawled, almost making you jump.

"What the actual fuck!" you said, holding a hand to your chest.

Of course it was fucking Carlos Sainz, once again

"You scared the hell out of me!" you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him, "Do you hide in dark alleyways like a creep all the time?"

"Slow down, hermosa, why are you so angry all the time?" his Spanish accent was thicker than usual, a clear sign that he was as tipsy as you were.

"I'm not in the mood for your games tonight," you retorted, trying to brush past him.

"Relax, I'm not here to cause trouble," he said, blocking your path with an easy grace. "Though you do seem to find me wherever you go."

"Only because you insist on being everywhere I am," you shot back, folding your arms over your chest.

"Or maybe you just can't resist my charm," he teased, leaning casually against the wall.

"Charm? Is that what you call it?" you scoffed, "More like arrogance and an inflated ego."

"Arrogance? No. Confidence? Absolutely," he replied with a smirk, "And I think you secretly like it."

"You're delusional," you muttered, feeling the alcohol clouding your judgment. "I can't stand you."

"Is that so?" he said, stepping closer. "Because you seem pretty invested in this conversation for someone who supposedly hates me."

True

"Maybe because you won't let me leave," you said, your voice rising in frustration.

"Or maybe because you've spent the entire season trying to get my attention by being rude to me and blasting me on social media, calling me a little bitch and all."

"I was defending Oscar," you snapped. "You kept messing with him on track. Someone had to call you out."

Carlos shook his head, his cocky smirk even bigger now. "It was never about Oscar, and you know it."

"God, I hate you," you said, ready to walk away but he blocked your way one more time.

"No, you don't," he replied, a knowing smile on his lips. "You just hate that you can't help but get all hot and bothered whenever I'm around."

"You're really are such a little bitch," you spat, but even as the words left your mouth, you felt a strange thrill.

"And you're a firecracker, Piastri. That's what makes this so fun."

"You're so full of yourself," you retorted, but the words lacked their usual bite. The alcohol was making it hard to keep up your defenses, and Carlos's close proximity was doing strange things to your resolve.

"Maybe," he conceded, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "But I think you like it more than you let on."

Before you could argue back, Carlos took another step closer, his body almost pressing against yours. The tension between you crackled like electricity, and despite your best efforts, you found yourself unable to pull away.

"You're infuriating," you muttered, your heart pounding in your chest.

"And you," he said, his breath warm against your ear, "are insufferable."

Without another word, he closed the gap between you, capturing your lips in a fierce, almost desperate kiss. It was a collision of anger, frustration, and undeniable chemistry, and you couldn't help but respond in kind.

Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you kissed him back with equal fervor. His hands roamed down your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

What the hell was happening?

For a moment, all the animosity, all the bickering, melted away. It was messy, it was intense, and it was everything you hadn't realized you wanted.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you could see the same mix of surprise and desire reflected in Carlos' eyes.

Before either of you could say anything, you were interrupted by Lando's voice calling out your name. You quickly stepped back, putting some distance between you and Carlos as Lando approached, a curious look on his face.

"Everything okay here?" Lando asked, glancing between the two of you.

"Just fine," you replied, giving Carlos a final, challenging look. "Just fine."

Carlos nodded, his smirk returning. "See you around, Piastri."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

texts between lando and yn

texts between carlos and lando

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2024 SEASON

Formula 1 was back and in full swing. And with that your "nepo sister" privileges, which included traveling with Oscar for races came back too.

You were excited for this season, Oscar was no longer a rookie and he had a lot to prove, and you couldn't wait to see him rise to the challenge.

In addition to that, this season was going to be extra interesting, since the news of your least favorite driver on the grid (or at least the one you swore you hated) being replaced by Lewis Hamilton in Ferrari were announced a few weeks prior.

"Did you hear the news?" Oscar asked, making his way to you.

"What news?" you replied, setting down your coffee cup.

"Lewis Hamilton is moving to Ferrari next season," Oscar said, watching your reaction closely.

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, what? So the little bitch is out?"

Oscar nodded. "Yeah, it's going to be an interesting season."

Carlos Sainz was both a source of irritation and inexplicable attraction. You had tried to push the memory of that kiss at Jimmy'z to the back of your mind all winter long, but you just couldn't stop thinking about it.

Plus, Lando was firm on his mission of making wither of you confess that apparently you "liked each other", which made ignoring the whole situation even harder.

You just hoped that he would keep it chill this season, not bothering either you or Oscar so you could just pretend he didn't exist.

With that thought on your mind, you made your way back to the hotel. You spent the day exploring around Bahrain with Oscar and Lando, and now you were ready to unwind in your room. The boys deciding to spend a few more hours walking around before heading back.

Once in the lobby, you stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for your floor. Just as the doors were about to close, a familiar hand slipped in, forcing them open.

Carlos Sainz stepped inside, his ever-present smirk firmly in place.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, they say.

"Not going to say hello, querida?" he said after a few seconds of complete silence from you, leaning against the elevator wall.

"Carlos. Still popping up where you're least wanted, I see," you rolled your eyes, folding your arms over your chest.

"Missed you too, Piastri," he chuckled, pushing off the wall to stand closer you, "How was your break?"

"Great, thanks for asking," you replied coolly. "Did you enjoy yours, planning how to be a pain to other drivers this season too?"

"Is that really how you want to start our first conversation of the season?" Carlos raised an eyebrow, "I though we've left that in the past, specially after what happened at the end of last year."

You tensed at his statement. More than once during the break, you wondered if he remembered what happened that night. He was as drunk was you were, if not more, so you convinced yourself that he had forgotten about it.

"I don't remember much from that night. Must have been the champagne."

Carlos leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing. "Oh, I think you remember perfectly well. Especially the kiss."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your expression neutral. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Playing dumb doesn't suit you," he said with a chuckle. "But fine, we'll pretend it never happened. For now."

"Good," you replied sharply. "Because I have no intention of discussing it."

"Maybe you're playing dumb because you want me to kiss you again," Carlos teased, making you throw your head back in frustration.

"I'd rather choke on my own spit, little bitch,"

"Ahh, missed hearing that," Carlos said, his tone cocky and satisfied with your frustration. You mentally cursed the elevator for taking so long to get to your fucking floor.

"You know what? I hope you don't find a seat for next season at all. You act like a total peacock when everyone knows you're basically unemployed right now," you spitted out before you could even think twice.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, his expression momentarily serious. "Low blow, Piastri. Even for you."

You held his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down. "Just stating the obvious."

The elevator finally dinged, announcing your floor, and you stepped out swiftly, eager to end the conversation before it could escalate further.

Carlos Sainz had a way of getting under your skin like no one else, and the season had only just begun.

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username1 ICON IS BACKKKK

username2 nooo we need you to keep dragging sainz

mclaren Our favorite nepo sister 🧡

↳ ynpiastri that’s meeee

username3 yn always gives us lily x oscar content bless her

charles_leclerc What if I need you to fight someone from the grid for me?

↳ ynpiastri you know there’s one person i would gladly drag through the mood

↳ username1 HER HATRED FOR CARLOS LIVES

lilyzneimer love youuu✨

oscarpiastri Cute picture of me and Lily, thank u sis

↳ ynpiastri i’m just here for my babies 🫡

landonorris I know your reasons

↳ ynpiastri you’re so strange sometimes

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It was a sunny day in Melbourne, and the paddock was buzzing with excitement. The Australian Grand Prix was always a favorite, and this year was no exception.

You felt good to be back home, you always felt proud when you saw Oscar on the track, but seeing him racing in your home country was something even more special.

Carlos was also back from his emergency surgery and ready to race again. And even though you would never admit it out loud, you were relieved to see him back and healthy. The news of his appendicitis had shocked you more than you’d expected, and you’d found yourself genuinely concerned about his wellbeing.

I'm just being a decent human being, you tried to convince yourself, It would be really scary if that happened to Oscar or Lando.

Walking through the paddock, you looked for a familiar face to hang out with before it was time for the track action to start, spotting Lando's back talking to someone you couldn't quite identify, you decided to approach him.

As you got closer, Lando shifted slightly, revealing the person he was talking to, Carlos.

He looked well, a healthy glow back in his cheeks, his smile easy and relaxed. He was wearing his team gear, the Ferrari red suiting him perfectly. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and despite the casual setting, he looked effortlessly handsome for someone who had a major surgery just two weeks ago.

Your stomach did a little flip. You hated to admit it, but lately your hatred towards Carlos had cooled down. Maybe it was the memory of that kiss, seeing him vulnerable after his surgery or the fact that he had been decent to Oscar so far. You couldn't deny that there was something about him that made you feel… softer.

However, you decided to ignore those thoughts and feelings every time they got to your head, because at the end of the day, there was no way he could ever feel or think the same way. It was better to keep hating each other.

Lando noticed you approaching and gave you a teasing grin. "Hey, YN! Look who’s back from the dead!"

Carlos turned to face you, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "Hey, Piastri," he greeted with a warm smile. "Back to your home turf, huh?"

"Yeah," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual despite the flutter in your chest. "It feels good to be back."

Lando gave Carlos a pat on the shoulder. "I'll catch up with you later, mate," he said, winking at you before walking away, leaving the two of you alone.

You stood there for a moment, awkward silence filling the air. Maybe he was still tired from what he had been through, but he didn't show any signs of cockiness or wanting to annoy you this time.

"You look well," you finally said, your voice softer than usual. "I'm glad you're back."

Carlos chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "I heard you were worried about me."

"Don't let it go to your head," you replied quickly, though the usual bite in your tone was missing. You felt a bit embarrassed that he knew, "I’m just being a decent human being."

"Of course," Carlos said, his voice nonchalant, "Decent human being, sure."

"I’m serious," you insisted, though your voice lacked the usual edge. "But I am glad you’re okay. It must have been scary."

Carlos’s expression softened. "It was. But I had good doctors, and I’m ready to race again. Thanks for worrying."

There was silence again, and you noticed that this was the first time you and Carlos had an interaction that didn't include biting each other's heads off.

It felt nice.

"Well," you said after a minute of silence, "don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you had surgery. You're still on my watch."

"Wouldn’t have it any other way," Carlos smirked, "But for the record, it’s nice to see you care, even if you won’t admit it."

"Don't push your luck, Sainz," you warned, but there was a hint of playfulness in your voice.

"I wouldn't dare, Piastri."

"I should get going," you said, pointing towards the McLaren hospitality, "Good luck out there."

As you turned to walk away, Carlos's voice stopped you in your tracks.

You glanced back at him, eyebrows raised in question.

"You know, this is the first time you don't call me a little bitch," Carlos said, a small playing on his face.

"What, you miss it already? Does it turn you own?"

"Maybe a little," Carlos chuckled, "Keeps things interesting."

You shook your head, trying to hide the smile that threatened to spread across your face.

"Well, good luck out there, little bitch."

You didn't wait to see his reaction, but you knew he was grinning from ear to ear.

Later that day, Carlos crossed the finish line first and won the Australian Grand Prix, sending the crowd into a frenzy. You watched as Carlos celebrated on the podium, spraying champagne with Lando and Charles and holding up the winner's trophy with pride.

You swore you played it cool, but everyone around you noticed the huge smile on your face.

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username1 AUSSIE QUEEN

username2 omfg included a picture of sainz win??

↳ username1 how pissed do you think she was bc he won in australia

�� username3 i love that she didn’t tag him tho 😭

alexandrasaintmleux Mama piastri >> 🫶

↳ ynpiastri our real queen

lilyzneimer the third pic is my faveeee

username4 surprised that she didn’t blur carlos in the podium pic

landonorris Please don’t make me do a shoey ever again

↳ username2 OMFG I NEED TO SEE THAT

↳ oscarpiastri Aussie traditions mate

↳ ynpiastri cry baby

carlossainz55 started following you

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"You're not my best friend," Lando said, sitting on the plush couch of your hotel room, watching as you put a sweatshirt on, "You've been replaced with an alien or an evil twin, there's no way you're YN Piastri."

"Can you quit being dramatic," you rolled your eyes at him, "It's no big deal."

"You're grabbing sushi with Carlos Sainz," he stressed, moving his hands to emphasize, "You hate Carlos Sainz, it's been an issue for me for the last year because both of you force me to pick sides and I have to make sure you don't kill each other. And now you're suddenly going on dates."

"This is not a date," you protested, "Don't even say that out loud, it's gross."

"Then what is it? Because he asked you out and you said yes, that's literally a date."

You didn't give him a reply right away, hiding behind your your busy hands as you pretended to adjust your sweatshirt.

Truth was, you didn’t have an answer, at least not one that made sense. You couldn't blame Lando for thinking you've been replaced with someone else, because you'd never accept anything from Carlos last year, let alone willingly grab dinner with him.

But here you were, about to head out to meet him.

"I just want free dinner," you shrugged, "And he offered to buy it, so I'm taking advantage of it."

"Sure, free dinner," Lando gave you a skeptical look, crossing his arms, "Because you’ve never had other options for free dinner before, right? Your brother is rich, he could buy you whatever you want."

You huffed, trying to sound annoyed but feeling a bit defensive. "It's just sushi, Lando. Stop making it a big deal."

"You know, it's okay if you like him," he said, his tone genuine. "I mean, I get why you're hesitant, but it's fine to have feelings for someone, even if it's Carlos Sainz."

"Are you out of your mind?" you immediately said, your voice sharper than intended, "We're talking about the little bitch, what on earth makes you think that I could have feelings for him other than disgust and irritation."

"I don't know, maybe the fact that you're getting ready to get dinner with him, or that you were on the edge of your seat worrying the entire time he was recovering from the surgery, or the time I almost caught you kiss-"

"God, just shut up," you interrupted him, "Oscar would understand. He knows I'm never going to get all lovey-dovey over Carlos."

"Oscar might buy whatever you tell him," Lando raised an eyebrow, "But that doesn't mean you're being honest with yourself. It's not the end of the world to admit you might have a crush."

"I do not have a crush on him," you insisted, your cheeks heating up. "It's just... complicated."

"Complicated how?" Lando pressed, leaning forward. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks pretty straightforward. You’re intrigued by him, he’s intrigued by you, and you both can’t seem to stay away from each other."

You let his words sink in, Lando might be a year younger than you, and often perceived as a carefree guy who didn't have a serious bone in his body. But in reality, he was a very wise person who understood the complexities of situations better than most.

That was one of the reasons why he was your best friend.

"Look, it’s not that simple," you sighed, rubbing your temples, "We have history, and not the good kind. I don't trust him, and I don’t think he trusts me either. We're just… trying to be civil for once."

"That's good," Lando stood up from the couch, sitting beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "Honestly I was tired of dealing with your constant bickering, if you didn't kiss and make up on your own, I was going to lock you up in a closet until you resolved it."

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username1 BESTIEEEE

username2 THIS LOOKS LIKE A DATE

alexandrasaintmleux I just texted you !!!

↳ username1 LET ME INNNN

f1gossip 👀

username3 CARLOS SAINZ ???

↳ username1 girl no way they hate each other

↳ username2 he’s in the likes tho 😭

landonorris IM FREEEEE WORST EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFEEEE

↳ username1 wtfffff

oscarpiastri Answer my texts right now please

↳ username1 IM SCREAMING

↳ username2 OSCAR 😩

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After a nice dinner and a couple of drinks, you and Carlos walked back to the hotel. The sushi had been surprisingly good, and the conversation… surprisingly pleasant.

The bickering between you was still present, but this time it wasn't harsh or spiteful, it was playful and and light-hearted. The tension that usually accompanied your interactions had lessened, and you actually acted friendly towards each other.

"I still can't believe you made me try that weird seaweed thing," you said, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked.

"You loved it, admit it," Carlos chuckled.

"Maybe a little," you conceded with a small smile, "How did you know this place anyways?"

"I like reading restaurant reviews online," he shrugged, "It's a random hobby of mine, and I'm going to need those in case I don't have a job next year."

You paused, his words sinking in. Carlos joked about it, but you knew the uncertainty of his future in Formula 1 must be horrible. The sport is cutthroat, and the thought of not finding a seat to race must be weighing on him heavily. It made you think about Oscar, and how that could happen to him too.

"I'm sorry for saying that I hope you don't find a seat next season," you blurted out, feeling a pang of guilt. "You're right, that was low, even for me."

"Are you really apologizing, Piastri?" he teased, "First you cared about my health, now you apologize. What's next? You'll stop calling me a little bitch?"

You rolled your eyes, but there was no malice behind it. "Don't push your luck, Sainz. Just take the apology and run with it."

"Alright, I'll take it," Carlos laughed, a genuine sound that made your heart skip a beat, "You must be praying I stay just so you have an excuse to argue with me, aren't you?"

"Don't flatter yourself," you shot back, grinning. "I can argue with anyone."

"But you like arguing with me the most," he said, his voice softening.

You didn't reply, the truth in his words making your heart race. From the corner of your eye, you saw the satisfied grin on his face.

Soon enough you reached the hotel lobby, and once you walked through the doors you spotted Charles and Alexandra by the reception desk.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Charles called out, drawing the attention of Alex, who looked at you with raised eyebrows.

"Just coming back from dinner," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. "What are you two up to?"

"We were just about to head up," Alexandra said, linking her arm with Charles's. "How was dinner?"

"Surprisingly good," Carlos said, glancing at you with a smirk.

Charles raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "This is new. You two actually getting along?"

"Don't get used to it," you said, rolling your eyes. "I just wanted free dinner."

"Right," Charles said, not convinced. "Well, we're heading up, you coming?"

You all piled into the elevator, the small space filled with a mix of comfortable silence and light conversation. When the elevator reached your floor, you stepped out, Carlos following close behind.

"Goodnight, guys," Alex called out as the elevator doors closed, giving you a look that screamed 'TEXT ME ASAP'

Carlos walked you to your room, the hallway dimly lit and quiet. As you walked side by side, the occasional brush of his arm against yours sent small shivers down your spine.

"So, the only reason you agreed to come with me tonight was because you wanted free dinner?" Carlos asked once you reached your room.

"Exactly, what else do you think would make me want to spend an evening with you?"

Carlos chuckled, leaning against the wall beside your door. "I don't know, maybe my charming personality and good looks?"

"Charming?" you raised your eyebrows at him, "You're literally the most annoying person I know."

"Likewise, Piastri," Carlos shot back, his smirk widening, "But here we are, aren't we?"

"You really think you're that special, don't you?" you said, rolling your eyes.

"I know I am, querida," Carlos replied, stepping closer. "And you can't get enough of me."

You looked away from him, his stare suddenly becoming overwhelming. He was really close, as close as he was the night you kissed at Jimmy'z, and even thinking about it has your neck crawling away in sweat.

"See? You can't even deny it." Carlos grinned, his eyes locking onto yours again, his voice dropping an octave as he took another step closer.

"Don't get any ideas," you warned, but your heart was racing, and you were sure he could hear it.

"I can't help it," he said softly, his face now inches from yours. "You bring out the best in me, Piastri."

"I still hate you," you whispered, your breath hitching as he leaned in even closer.

"No, you don't," Carlos whispered back, his lips brushing against yours.

Before you could protest, he closed the distance and kissed you. It was gentle at first, tentative, as if he was giving you a chance to pull away. But when you didn't, the kiss deepened, becoming more intense and filled with a raw passion that took your breath away.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping tightly as you kissed him back, losing yourself in the moment. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, a small smile playing on Carlos's lips.

"Goodnight, Piastri," he whispered, his voice husky.

Unable to move from your spot, you watched him walk through the corridor and disappear into the elevator doors, your mind still blurry about what happened just seconds ago.

You were fucked.

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A playlist full of pop classics played as you got ready for Lando's millionth win celebration.

He took the win at the Miami Grand Prix and the next following days were full of partying and champagne. You were beyond happy for him, and willing to put up with his multiple celebrations of his well deserved win.

This time, the setting was not that over the top, just a casual dinner at his place in Monaco with his close friends.

"Can I come in?" you heard after a knock on Oscar's guest bedroom, the place where you stayed when visiting Monaco.

"Sure," you replied, quickly meeting with your brother's figure.

Oscar entered the room, a casual grin on his face. He glanced around before his eyes settled on you. "Are you almost ready?"

"Yeah," you replied, adjusting an earring. "I hope this is Lando's last celebration, I can't keep up anymore.

"He's definitely on a roll," Oscar chuckled, "You know, Carlos is going to be there."

"I know," you said, looking away from him for a moment and trying to keep your tone nonchalant.

"You do?" Oscar raised a eyebrow.

"He's Lando's best friend, Osc, it's obvious he'll be there."

Oscar nodded slowly, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Right, of course. But you two have been getting close lately, haven't you? You didn't even come for his neck after Miami, and you always do that."

You sighed, knowing where this conversation was heading. There was no denying that there was something between you and Carlos, your friends might not know about the times you've kissed, but they definitely noticed the shift in your behavior towards each other.

You found yourself enjoying his company, looking forward to catch a glimpse of him every weekend and craving his touch. You don't know if he feels the same way, but the way he looks at you and finds ways to get you alone tells you he does.

Admitting this to Oscar felt like crossing a line, even though he had always encouraged you to be open about your feelings.

"We're just… getting along better. That's all," you muttered, "And you asked me to behave on social media this season, I'm trying to do that."

"That's bullshit, YN," Oscar shook his head, a teasing smile forming on his lips, "Come on, admit it. Maybe the real reason you didn't attack him this time is because you like him."

"Oscar, we're not having this conversation," you quickly became defensive, "I don't know why everyone insist on something that's far from the truth. I don't like Sainz."

"Sis, it's okay if you like him," Oscar said, his tone gentle but insistent. "You don't have to hide it from me."

You looked away, feeling conflicted. Ever since you first met Carlos, there was something about him that intrigued you, however, you were too caught up in convincing yourself that he would never see you as more than his brand new rival's sister. Things getting worse when his incidents with Oscar on track started and you took that as an opportunity to be reckless to him.

It was a self defense mechanism for your own feelings.

"It's complicated, okay?" you said, feeling vulnerable but knowing you could trust him, "We spent last year coming from each other's necks all the time, but now he's nice to me and I am too, we spend time together, we kiss. But at the same time, I feel like I can't trust him, that he's going to switch to little bitch mode again and I'll end up feeling stupid for potentially catching feelings."

"Holy shit you've kissed!" Oscar said, his eyes widening, "Lando was right all along."

"Oh god, I shouldn't have said anything," you threw your head back in frustration.

"Sorry, sorry," he put his hands up in defense, "But It's okay to feel confused. You can talk to me, you know. I'm your brother, and I just want you to be happy. I can tell that this is really bothering you."

You sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I just don't know what to do, Osc. One minute I think I might actually like him, and the next I'm terrified of getting hurt."

"Look, I know Carlos can be intense on track, but off track? He's a good guy," Oscar sat beside you, putting an arm around your shoulders, "When he's not trying to push me off the track, he's really supportive and a nice guy. There's a reason why Lando adores him. Plus, maybe he's figuring things out too."

You leaned into Oscar's side, grateful for his comforting presence. "Do you really think so?"

"Yeah, I do," Oscar nodded reassuringly. "And you deserve to give yourself a chance at happiness. If Carlos could make you happy, then why not see where it goes?"

"When did you become so wise?" you teased, giving him a small smile, "You're supposed to be my annoying little brother who picks his nose and runs around the house."

"Hey, I can be wise when I want to be," Oscar chuckled, giving you a playful shove, "But don't worry, I'll always be your annoying little brother, nose-picking and all."

You laughed, feeling some of the tension ease from your shoulders. "Thanks, Osc. I needed this."

"Anytime, sis," Oscar said warmly, giving you a quick hug. "Now, come on. Lando is probably drunk already and we haven't made it to his house yet."

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username1 so iconic tbh

username2 EXCUSE ME MISS IS THAT CARLOS SAINZ IN THE LAST PIC ??

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danielricciardo 🙌

alexandrasaintmleux 👀 I see you

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landonorris IM V DRVNK OMG

↳ username3 i love him 😭😭😭😩

username4 carlos sainz and yn piastri the ultimate enemies to lovers lowkey

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You're not sure how it happened, but Carlos' arm laid casually in the back of your chair as you chatted with those around you. His fingers gently brushed your bare shoulder from time to time, his thigh pressed to yours under the table.

Maybe it was the couple glasses of champagne you both had, you're not sure. But you definitely didn't want to move from your spot.

No one dared to say anything about it, but your friends had teasing grins at the sight. You knew you'll have to deal with them later, but you decided to ignore it for the night.

"Alright, I think I'm calling it a night," Oscar said as he got up from his chair, Lando immediately booed, "Are you coming, YN?"

You looked at him with raised eyebrows, you definitely didn't want to leave yet, feeling too comfortable in Carlos' presence. In addition to that, you haven't had a chance to get him alone, and that was enough to not want the night to end.

After a minute of silence from you, Carlos spoke up, "I can give her a ride home if she doesn't want to leave yet," he offered, his voice smooth and nonchalant.

"Oh, a private chauffeur service now, Carlos? How fancy," Max teased from across the table, making the entire group laugh.

Oscar hesitated, glancing between you and Carlos, his protective instincts kicking in. "Are you okay with that, YN?"

"Yeah, I'm okay with it," you met Oscar's eyes and nodded, "Or I can just crash here, Lando is too drunk to notice anyway, don't want to cause much trouble."

"It's really no trouble," he insisted, his hand still resting gently on your shoulder. "I'll make sure you get home safely."

Oscar seemed to relax a bit, though you could tell he was still a little uneasy. "Alright then. Just... be careful, okay?"

"Don't worry, Osc," you replied, standing up and giving him a quick hug. "I'll see you tomorrow."

As Oscar left, the group continued to tease and laugh. You always enjoyed when the drivers were in a casual setting like this one, where they could forget about competition and teams and just hang out and have fun.

You stayed glued to Carlos the entire time, getting even closer as the night went on, you could feel your eyelids getting heavy, so you laid your head on his shoulder.

"You're falling asleep on me, hermosa," Carlos whispered to you, not moving your head from its place.

"I'm not," you protested, but at the same time you did a yawn escaped your mouth, which made Carlos laugh.

"Come on let's get you home," Carlos offered you his hand.

You took Carlos' hand, not even thinking twice about it. As you both stood to leave, your friends couldn't resist one last round of teasing.

"No funny business, Carlos," Charles called out, grinning widely. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at him. "We have Oscar on speed dial."

"Yeah, don't make me come after you, that's also my sister," Lando added, too drunk to even make sense.

You laughed, waving goodbye to everyone as you and Carlos made your way out. The cool night air was refreshing as you walked to his car, your hand still in his.

The drive to Oscar's place was quiet but comfortable. Carlos kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the center console close to you. You found yourself stealing glances at him, admiring the way the streetlights played over his features.

At one point, Carlos glanced over and caught you staring. "You're staring," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

You felt your cheeks heat up but didn't look away. "Maybe I am," you replied, a teasing edge in your voice. "You have a problem with that?"

"Not at all, Piastri. Not at all."

When you arrived at Oscar's place, Carlos parked the car but you made no move to get out. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words and lingering tension.

"Are you ready to stop pretending we hate each other?" Carlos asked suddenly, his voice low and earnest. "Because I am."

His words hung in the air, causing your heart to skip a beat. The intensity in his gaze made it clear he wasn't playing around or teasing you. He was being real and serious.

You took a deep breath, your eyes locking onto his. "Yeah, I am."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss. His hand cupped your cheek, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a mix of tenderness and hunger. The world outside the car ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the way his kiss made you feel.

Carlos' other hand found its way to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as he pressed you closer. Your hands tangled in his hair, holding on as if letting go meant losing this moment forever.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Carlos' eyes searched yours, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"But… I'm not ready to stop calling you a little bitch, though."

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queers-gambit · 1 year ago

Text

What Goes Around, Comes Around

prompt: ( requested ) Billy's known for his temper and being obsessed with his pretty little girlfriend - which gets her severely injured by his past transgressions.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!cheerleader!reader reader and Billy are both 18+, seniors in high school

word count: 6.7k+

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

note: you're a liar if you didn't immediately start singing Justin Timberlake's "What Goes Around... Comes Around".

warnings: remember there are different responses to trauma! some people shut down, stop talking; others jabber and chatter nervously. reader is the latter. we got angst, we got literal hurt and comfort, established relationship. term "going postal" is used, cursing, technically underage drinking, not edited, author mildly gave up at the end. triggering content: depictions of physical violence, depictions of injury and blood, depiction of abuse, violent plots, Billy's girl gets physically assaulted (but it's minimally detailed).

DO NOT read if this content can potentially trigger you. you are NOT missing anything, you will miss NOTHING by skipping this, but i do try to keep the details as neutral as possible. again, prioritize yourself, mental health, and emotional state - this ain't worth the read if it's gonna upset you, i promise. author loves you all

"That's fucking her, I swear to God."

"You sure?"

"100%. That's Billy's little bitch he's obsessed with."

The three guys smirked at one another, eyeing you across the living room as you giggled and drank with a few friends in adorable, fashion forward outfits. Someone started a game of beer pong, you on the sidelines to cheer, giving them a full-show of your form.

"She's hot," Jake mused. "I can see why he keeps her so close."

"Nah, not tonight," Lawrence frowned, "heard they got in some huge fight at school. Like, she walked home and he sped off in his car."

"Hm, heard he's ridiculously protective of her... She must've really pissed him off," the third boy, Steven, nodded. "So, he's not here tonight?"

"Doubt it," Jake nodded.

"Go find out," Steven advised. "There, the basketball bros - one of them would know. Or a cheerleader," he eyed the crowd. "Chrissy's over there, Brittany's beside her - they'd be the best bet in my mind."

"We seriously considering this?" Lawrence asked with a small, nervous chuckle. "I mean, it's kinda crazy, isn't it? We're gonna send Billy Hargrove a message by roughing up his girl? There's not some better way?"

"I'd love to hear it," Steven scoffed. "Billy's too comfortable at the top of the school, broke my fucking nose and deviated Jake's septum. Didn't he fuck your sister the first week he was here, Lawrence?"

"I mean - "

"Broke her fucking heart, didn't he?" Jake tacked on.

"Well, yeah," Lawrence sighed, shrugging.

"You tell me, dude, was that shit fair?"

"No," Lawrence looked down.

"So, yeah, I know, it's bad to hit a lady - but what about my boot? Huh?" Steven smirked, nodding. "Go find out what you can. Last thing we need is Billy walkin' in the party, right?"

Jake nodded with enthusiasm, leaving Lawrence behind. He hesistated but then did as Steven asked; asking the present basketball team members if Billy gave indication he was coming. The cheerleaders assured he wouldn't dare show up when you were there after a very public fight, and if he did, it would be to cause another scene.

So, after reporting back to Steven, a plan was formed. Lawrence didn't seem fully on board, but in an effort to save his own skin, he went along with what Jake and Steven were plotting - even if that meant roughing up a woman. Something his mama and grandmama vehemently taught him not to do...

Something churned in his stomach when he heard how the two lads were nearly foaming at the mouth to get their revenge. So, he casually went to grab another drink - pausing where a few of your friends were. "Oi," he whispered, earning their attention.

"Hey, Law," Chrissy smiled.

"Hey, Chris," he sniffled, glancing around. "Listen, uh, you seen Billy 'round?"

"No? Why?"

"Hmm, just, uh... Heard his girl was all upset, thought maybe her drinking all that much was a bad idea without him around."

"Oh," Chrissy blinked, looking up at her boyfriend, Jason, as he approached the group with two drinks in hand. "I didn't think about it like that, Law."

"What's wrong?" Jason asked.

"No, nothing, Lawrence just pointed out how shitty it is to drink without someone watching your back," she pouted.

He nodded, "You lose your friends, man?"

"No, just tryna look out," Lawrence shrugged. "Few girls here drinking a lot, not a lot of defenses 'round them."

Jason frowned, "That's kinda their man's job, isn't it?"

"What if their man isn't here?"

"I'm gonna be right back," Chrissy smiled, parting ways with her girlfriend in tow - and when Law looked, they were using the kitchen telephone. He prayed they were phoning the Hargrove residence.

Lawrence sighed in slight relief and nodded to Jason; the white boy just nodding back silently and letting the other athlete pass him by to head back for Jake and Steven. He grabbed an unopened beer on his way to maintain appearances.

"Hey, we got it," Jake smirked at the third boy, "she just went outside, we should move now."

"Huh?" Law mumbled.

"C'mon," Steven growled, pushing off the mantle and stalking for the backdoors to follow your retreating form.

"Wait, what're we doing?" Law asked, trying to keep up with the drunken, elongated strides of the two dickheads he called 'friends'. "Hey! Guys, c'mon - what's going on?"

"Just - shut up, pussy boy, let's go, fuckin' keep up," Steven sneered, shoving the glass door out of his way and nearly cracking it.

Outside, the in-ground pool was alight with multicolored lights. There were teenagers littered all around the pool deck; some lounging and some standing, all drinking. There was a kegstand in play, ping pong table hosting another game of Beer Pong, and the thick stench of cigarette smoke in the air.

"She's over there," Jake pointed, their sights turning to see you leaning over to huff on your cigarette while Tammy May Flipsen lit the end of it. Your smile was genuine as you thanked her, just stepping two feet away to gaze up at the stars - a perfect time to strike.

The alcohol in everyone's system made them slow, vulnerable, and downright stupid; leaving Steven and Jake the opportunity to seize either of your arms and literally rush you around the corner of the house without anyone intervening.

Once in the remote side yard, the sickening plan commenced.

Lawrence could barely approach, managing to watch with tears in his eyes as the noises of the party masked the noises of pain you emitted; two nearly full-grown men took out their anger towards your boyfriend on you. You cried, begged for reprieve, sounded so confused and broken that it shattered Lawrence's heart - briefly thinking what if someone did this to his sister...

That made him spring into action. "Hey! No! No, this ain't right! Get off her!" Lawrence barked, shoving the two away from your body on the ground. "That's enough - back off - fuck is wrong with you!?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Steven demanded.

"Bitch has it coming!"

"What? You fuckin' her, too? Got you pussy whipped like Billy Boy?"

"Just fuck off, beating on a girl!" Lawrence snapped, but it was a huge mistake. Jake and Steven shared a single look before launching at the third boy, beating him as they had you - but much harder. He swore he earned a concussion, their heels stomping his neck, collarbones, wrists, ribs, ankles; exactly the same as they did to you.

"Tryna defend her now!?" Jake heaved, giving a swift kick to Lawrence's kidney. "Huh? You're so scared of Billy but you're gonna mess with his girl?" He laughed. "She must have a magic cunt or something!"

"You're so fucking pathetic, you have to beat up a girl!?" Law shot right back, earning a swift kick to the jaw from the lad that used to play soccer (or American fútbol). "Huh? Two on one? Such big men, aren't yah?" He sneered again, spitting blood to the side.

"Leave it," Steven halted Jake when he charged again, "they're both pretty fucked."

"Well, that dumbass should learn a lesson 'bout interfering!"

"Law's learned - he has, bro, and if he wants, he can learn again," Steven spat on Lawrence's form, Jake doing the same to you - both eventually stalking away like bored toddlers walking away from broken toys.

Slowly, Lawrence grunted as he pulled himself up to sit against the side of the house. "Fuck's sake," he whispered, wiping his eyes and wincing when he felt the sore skin - trailing a finger up, wincing again when he discovered split skin above his eyebrow. "Ohhhh, fuuuuck," Law drawled when you slowly peaked up from your fetal position on the ground. "Hey, hey, you all right? Stupid question," he hissed in pain when he moved to try and assist you.

You cried out when his grip laid on you, but powered through to let him help you sit against the house, too. "Holy shit," you whispered, blood dribbling from your mouth; teeth feeling loose, a headache already assaulting you, and cuts stinging in the bitter night.

"I'm so sorry."

"N-No, you - it would've been so much worse if you hadn't..." You trailed off, sniffling, "You didn't have t'jump in, you got hurt 'cause of me."

"You got hurt 'cause of Billy," Lawrence frowned.

"Huh?"

"That's why they're so pissed off," Lawrence explained, spitting more blood to the side; his jeans stained with mud, blood, and grass. "Billy got their asses few weeks ago, they're still pissed... I heard them," he deflected smoothly, "talkin' about teaching Billy a lesson through you. Didn't feel right, but I should've stopped them so much sooner. I-I'm sorry I didn't do more, Y/N."

"You did more than anyone else," you whimpered, drawing your knees into your chest to lock your arms around them. "I don't even know them, they go to our school?"

"We're all in AP History with Snyder."

You paused to nod absently, not even bothering to try and recall any interactions you might've had with Steven and Jake. Instead, you eyed your savior, mumbling, "You're Lawrence, right?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Your sister's... Cara? Sarah? No, no," you paused to think, his frown deepening as you seemed so nice and authentic. "Your sister's name is Natalie, right?"

"Yeah," he half-smiled. "You know her?"

"She's a sweetheart, has those cute glasses? Yeah, I like her; she just joined cheer, right?"

"Yeah, that's her."

You eyed him for a moment, ignoring the blood dripping off you both from the beat down; then whispered with a sniffle, "Is that why you helped? 'Cause your sister's on the cheer squad, too?"

"No," he replied instantly, sounding quiet (like you), "I'd like to believe if I saw something I know is wrong... I'd be the type of person to step in, try to stop it."

"You did tonight."

"I should've done more a lot sooner."

"You could've been really hurt, Law."

"Like you?"

"I'm just - look, two guys? Beatin' on me? Yeah," you scoffed, wiping blood from your split lip, "like I ever stood a chance. But you didn't have t'do all that, they wanted Billy, found me instead. You could've walked away, but instead, you jumped in, and you could've been really hurt. That wouldn't help anyone."

"I'm still sorry..."

You sniffled, but before you could respond, you heard footsteps thundering over the lawn; a voice shouting your name in frantic, panicked little outbursts. Looking up, you caught sight of a black leather jacket and unruly blonde curls, frowning deeper. "Oh, fuck," you whispered, withdrawing into yourself, "oh, no, no, not now. Not now, Goddamnit. Think I can make a run for it to the street before he sees me?" You asked Law quietly, nearly hissing your whisper.

"Ain't that Billy?" Law asked, finger pointed.

"He can't see me," you rushed in a panic, eyes wide and tears welling. "Lawrence, he can't!"

"Why?"

"He'll go on a fucking rampage, Lawrence! Ever heard going postal? Yeah, Bee gives that shit new meaning."

"They'd deserve whatever Billy wants t'do," Law frowned, tensing up when Billy had turned, caught sight of you two, and made an angry beeline for you in the grass. "U-Uh, Billy's approaching," he warned you as your boyfriend arrived, trying to pull back to give privacy, but wincing in pain that made him stop.

"The fuck is going - ? Oh, my fuckin' God," Billy trailed off, then whispered when he saw you huddled on the ground; your dress in tatters. Your head was bowed, knees drawn in, refusing to meet his eyes; making your leather-clad boyfriend lower himself to a knee. "Baby? Hey, look at me, sweet girl, lemme see... C'mon, baby, please, look at me."

You only sniffled.

"It was Jake and Steven," Lawrence told Billy, trying to find his feet; falling over and just giving up.

"Hell happened to you, man?"

Lawrence frowned, looking nervous, but your voice answered, "He saved me, Bee. Jumped in, took some of the beating."

Billy looked between you and Lawrence, but focused on you - seeing the injuries to your face and chest in full light. "Oh, my God," he breathed, looking you over in shock. Those pink, pillowy lips you adored licking and sucking on were parted in shock.

You half-smiled, "Think you pissed a few of the wrong guys off."

"Jesus Christ, sweet girl. What happened? Tell me, please, before I start making assumptions," he demanded, reaching for your cheek - making you recoil hard enough that your head banged on the house supporting your exhausted body. "Hey, hey," he whispered, looking physically wounded by your action, "'s just me, baby, it's just me, it's Bee, I'm not gonna hurt you. C'mon, sweetheart, lemme help you."

You sniffled, letting him reach for you again and caress your cheek so he could direct your head left and right; giving him a full view of your injuries that continued to weep. He stiffened as he took note of a new cut or bruise upon every new sweep of his eyes, his anger skyrocketing with every passing moment.

"It hurts," you whimpered. "Apparently, you beat the shit outta those guys weeks ago - guess they were waiting for an opening to strike back."

"You don't deserve this," he growled angrily. "Fuck - look at you! Goddamnit, I'm so sorry, princess, this is my fault. All my fucking fault, shit," he hissed, looking close to tears, "I put you here, I'm so sorry, baby."

"Got Lawrence his ass beat, too," you pouted.

"Sorry about this, man," Billy instantly offered the other boy, who was practically slumped over in the grass. He still managed to give a thumbs up. "But, uh, thank you for stepping in. You know, not a whole lotta people would."

"Nah, it was the right thing to do," Law frowned, waving him off.

"You said Jake and Steven did this?"

"Mhm," Law nodded. "Jake Chastain and Steven Barton."

"Yeah, I know 'em," Billy shook his head, "and I'll fuckin' kill 'em - "

"Can we get cleaned up first? Before we go murdering high school jocks?" You pouted in pain.

"Hey, man. You got a friend here or something? Someone to help us?" Billy asked Lawrence, still caressing your face with his thumb sweeping the apple of your cheek.

"My sister's 'round, yeah..."

"Want me to grab her?" Billy offered awkwardly.

"I'd actually appreciate it," Law whispered. "Gotta get home, yeah?"

"Yeah, man. Stay here, I'll grab her," Billy agreed. "What's her name?"

"Natalie, she's a cheerleader. Um... Y-You dated her beginning of the year?"

"I remember," he sighed, standing to his feet. He told you earnestly, almost sweetly, "I'll be fast."

But the thing is, you knew Billy all too well by now. "Wait, no," you gasped, trying to stand, "Bee, don't!" It was too late, he was already gone by the time you and Lawrence stumbled out from hiding; just in time to watch Billy point Natalie towards where you and her brother were. Then, he turned and surged up to an unsuspecting Jake and Steven; launching an all-out brawl against the two.

Neither of them stood a chance when Billy was THIS angry. Nobody did. In fact, if Jason, Tommy H., and two other guys hadn't pulled him back, surely, there'd be a lot more than a couple of broken bones. However, when Billy told the other basketball players in a spit-flying rage that these two cowards had attacked his girlfriend (a few turning back to get a look at you), it launched a new, mutual anger. Chrissy and a few other cheerleaders wanted to step in when the "fight" (more like attack) started again, but when they saw you, Lawrence, and Natalie, nobody said a single word. Nobody interfered. Nobody interrupted, and luckily, nobody else joined in...

Before Jake and Steven could lose their lives or sustain serious injury that would result in any arrests, Billy was pulled back by Lawrence - of all people. "Hey, hey," the beaten boy barked, "hey, man, chill - chill! These guys deserve it, yeah, I fucking know, but look, hey!" He grabbed Billy's shoulders to prevent him from turning back for the fray. "Hey! Your girl needs you, man. She needs you more than these bozos. C'mon, you can't go to jail over this shit, right? Right? How mad you gonna be if you get bagged 'cause of these jackasses?"

This seemed to force Billy back to reality and out of his homicidal rage. A few dudes who played football stepped in to hoist the unconscious jocks over their shoulders just to leave them on the curb a couple houses down the street.

Billy raced back to you.

Chrissy and Natalie were helping wipe blood from your skin and hair; clothes damaged, ripped, stained, beyond repair, and another cheerleader was holding a bag of frozen peas to your head as you leaned on her stomach. He slid his jacket from his shoulders, easing you off the girl's belly to leave it around your trembling form and then taking the girl's spot, supporting your body as you were tended to.

Eventually, Chrissy sighed, "I think that's the best we're gonna get you, honey. You want us to come over in the mornings? Help you get dressed and do your make-up?"

"No offense, but I don't think that's necessary... It's not like what happened is a secret," Natalie whispered, looking you over.

"Make-up might irritate the injuries," the other girl offered softly. "But it might cover some of those bruises, I just would avoid the cuts."

"I'm okay, girls, but thank you," you assured softly. "Bee's here t'help."

"Yeah, taking you straight to the hospital," he decided stiffly from behind you.

"What?"

"Think I'm not gonna get you checked out after this? Two men attacked you, I gotta make sure ain't shit's seriously wrong, baby. Don't fight me on this, please."

Billy's mind was warped with memories of sitting in ER's and other clinics with his mother nursing a broken wrist or damaged eye socket. His father's anger had always been a temperamental switch, something Billy felt he always had to outdo. Being in the hospital with you felt too similar, another bolt of rage zinging through his blood; hating the idea that you were the victim, and like his mother, he wasn't able to protect you.

Unlike his mother, this situation was directly his fault. He didn't even remember why he beat the shit outta Steven and Jake all those weeks ago, but whatever the reason, it cost him now. Cost you both.

The party continued inside the house, but Billy walked around the side yard, down to the front, then towards the street full of parked cars with you secure in his arms. After getting you settled safely in the passenger seat of his Camaro, Billy rightened and shut the door; seeing Lawrence and Natalie approaching their own car, the bag of peas now held to his jaw and cheek.

His sister was under his arm, helping him hobble. Billy gulped, realizing Lawrence was beat to hell, too, and if he hadn't jumped in, Lord only knew what state you'd be in now. When the two men caught one another's eye, Billy offered a nod of respect and thanks; the other lad returning it as if to say he was welcome. Billy raced for the driver's door, sliding in, and without turning any music on, drove off towards the hospital.

You were grumpy to be there, but one look at you had the medical staff moving at a quickened pace to help you; offering speedy aid. You were cleaned and cared for; questions regarding the level of assault making you nervous, but you answered honestly that two classmates had jumped you at a party. This meant the police were called; tears in your eyes and down your cheeks when you had to tell Chief Hopper (a close family friend) exactly what happened.

Billy provided their assailant’s full names and promised they wouldn't be in the best shape when (slash if) the two were found.

After hearing your story and writing the names down from Billy, Hopper sighed in empathy, "Kid... Don't admit t'anything."

"I'm not, I'm just making a casual note," Billy countered. "You know, people don't take too kindly to people hittin' a woman. Less so when she's drunk, alone, and they fuckin' stomp on her - "

"All right," Hopper tried to halt his built up anger. "Let's just take a breath here - "

"Uh, Chief?" His deputy interrupted. "Them boys? Uh, a... Jake Chastain and Steven Barton? They were just wheeled in from an ambulance."

"Interesting," Hopper noted, sparing Billy a small look. "From where?"

"A neighbor called them in, said there's a party few houses from her on Hawthorne."

Jim Hopper sighed and turned to you and Billy with his hands on his hips. His face was passively angry. "Sound familiar?" He asked, tongue sweeping over his teeth.

"Yes," you answered for you both, "that's where it happened, Chief."

His eyes softened when he looked back at you. "All right," he nodded, looking to his partner. "Go stand by their room, keep an eye - I'll be there in a second, but the victims made a positive ID. Doc's will treat 'em and we'll book 'em." When left alone, Hopper took a suspicious look around the hospital floor before sliding the curtains shut around your bed; moving to your other side, removing his hat, and kneeling. "Listen, kid," he whispered, taking your hand softly, "I got a daughter at home, too, and if anyone - and I mean, anyone - laid a hand on her the way you were tonight, I'd burn this town to the fucking ground."

Billy snorted in amusement, "Know the feeling."

Hopper nodded, "So believe me when I say, I need to know, off the record, what really happened tonight. Your father will need to know that I am doing everything to help - but I need to know the truth."

"I don't know what to tell you, Hopper," you frowned, matching his quiet tone, "I've told you what I know. I was a few drinks in, stepped outside t'smoke, and that's when they grabbed me, took me t'the side yard, and started wailing on me. I dropped, they kept goin', that's when this other boy stepped in. He got beat up pretty good, too, but he helped get them away. Billy showed up, we came here - "

"I hit them," Billy interrupted, making you squeak lightly. Hopper just laid his other hand over yours so he cocooned it; glancing around the under skirts of the curtains to make sure you remained alone.

Then he asked, "When?"

"After I made sure Y/N was okay," Billy explained, petting a hand over the back of your head; never looking away from Hopper. "I found her friend's sister, made sure someone knew where they were, and then I hit them... And I didn't stop hitting them."

"Kid - "

"Some teammates pulled me off, don't worry - it could've been so much worse. But when the others found out what they did to my girl?" He hissed quietly, "They took matters into their own hands by themselves, sir. My girl was attacked, I couldn't let that just slide, Chief, I hope you understand."

Hopper sighed, "Well, I can't condone the violence, but since it was a group effort, be a helluva lot more paperwork bringing you in versus those two who started it."

Billy nodded absently, your free hand laying over Hopper's to stack. "Did you call my dad?" You asked nervously.

"Not yet," he frowned. "I gotta check on the suspects, but I can after."

"Could you not? For me, please?" You sniffled. "He'll just worry and would get all pissy 'cause his trip has to be cut - "

"He's not home?" Hopper asked in earnest confusion with knitted brows.

Your head shook, "Chicago for the week."

"He left eight days ago," Billy snipped.

"Bee," you reprimanded sharply.

"Hey," Hopper squeezed your hand, "it's okay, you're over 18, I don't have to call him. But El and I are gonna drop by later with dinners and to check on you, her little friend, too, probably. You know, the, uh... The little red head?"

"Max?" You asked.

"Yeah, her. Nice girl."

"She's Billy's step-sister," you snickered, wincing when your broken ribs protested.

"You should rest," Hopper bid, "and thank you for being honest," he stood to his feet while nodding at Billy. "Tell you what, I won't report you starting the fight - technically... It'll be reported as a randomized group effort after they were caught assaulting Y/N."

Billy nodded, too shocked for words as Hopper patted your hand, placed his hat on, and exited the little curtained room. "Wow," your boyfriend breathed. "Since when are you friends with the Chief of Police?"

"He and my dad go way back," you eased.

"All cops like him?"

"Fuck no, you know that." After a beat, you reached for his hand to lace your fingers with him, "Hey," you bid, "I-I'm really sorry."

"Baby, just - don't even start - "

"No, for earlier, for our fight," you interrupted, "and for feeling petty enough to go to the party alone when I know you don't like that... For drinking, not being more aware like you taught me. I didn't use the buddy-system when I went t'smoke, it was a major fuck-up, I know, but I'm just sorry. I feel like I've disappointed you or something - "

"No, hey, sweet girl," he rushed, sitting on the edge of the gurney to stare at you directly, "don't you ever feel that way - you didn't do nothing wrong. Hear me? You didn't put yourself in this position, you didn't deserve what happened, you didn't - no, just," he sighed deeply, "you didn't do any of this, sweetheart. Okay? If anything... If anything, this is my fucking fault and I'm the one who is so sorry."

Your head shook, but Billy continued,

"They did this to you because of me." Tears filled those sweet baby blues. "Because I don't have a hold of my temper - I fucked them up, so, they fucked you up. This is my fault, I'm so sorry. But look, hey, I'll fix this, okay? I swear to God - I'm gonna fix this."

"The cops got 'em, we don't have t'do anything else," you mumbled. "You don't have to do anything else, Billy."

"Maybe not, but I can't let this go - look at you," a single tear dripped. "Fucking look at you, my sweet girl. In the fucking hospital 'cause of me - I can't - this ain't right. I gotta make it right."

You couldn't answer because a technician was arriving to take you for a CT, MRI, and X-Ray - all of those scans that would tell them what was going on internally. Hopper was seen outside the two boy's rooms - Billy following your bed closely as you where wheeled away. Every scan or test he could remain close for, he was; stepping back when needed, but being sucked right back to your side when able.

By the end of the night, you were released into Billy's care because all patients with head injuries had to have some kind of chaperone, and a few floors up, Steven and Jake were being handcuffed to their hospital beds by Hopper.

"Real lucky I wasn't there when you hit her," Jim Hopper seethed quietly, tightening the cuff on Jake to an uncomfortable grip. "Your parents would need money for your funerals - not bail," he offered one single more glare before leaving the next shift of deputies on duty. He sped all the way home and held Eleven in a suffocating hug.

Turns out, you sustained decent injuries from that night.

A (cleanly) broken ankle. Six different broken ribs. Split lip that required two stitches. Stitched earlobes from where piercings were ripped out. Severely bruised collarbones, bordering on broken. One blackened eye. Along with other generic bruises and cuts, more seemingly discovered as the days drug by slowly.

Billy was ready to mow down anyone in his way at any point, but his only ability to get through the school day was that he saw you everyday afterward. He dropped whatever sport and / or club that held his interest, collecting coursework you missed, then driving Max and "Jane" Hopper to your place. He would've lashed out if this was any other situation, but because you asked him to behave and bring you the materials you needed, he did. He played nice.

The two assailants, Steven and Jake, had been arrested by Jim Hopper. They apparently had a rough ride to the station, but that wasn't here or there. What they did to you was far worse that nobody batted a single lash when the two were brought in the station for booking, looking freshly beat up and bloodied. A judge also rejected their bail.

Billy brought you whatever work you missed during your recovery at home, most teachers shocked to see him so diligent in showing up and making the collections. He didn't understand whatever the teachers told him about the work, but you did - and it was fascinating to him, watching you work or study. He usually sat by your window to smoke, but on the occasion, you asked for a toke and wouldn't care about where the smoke blew. So, as weeks passed, he stopped specifically going over to your window; just leaving it open for ventilation so he could remain at your side.

Anything you needed, he got. He did. He gave you. Guilt was one helluva motivator and Billy was chalked-full; so, he did the only thing he knew he could, being acts of service.

You were laid up, it made sense. He could bring you into the shower, get naked himself and help you bathe. He could carry you downstairs, cook for you, help out around the house by keeping it clean because he knew it stressed you out. He would collect the mail, water plants, do dishes, just turned into a househusband that made your stomach and cheeks feel all warm and fuzzy. Never did you think Billy had the ability to be domestic, but here he was, in your great-grandmother's kitchen, wearing a stained apron while trying to bake cookies while you worked on a physics project.

"Hey, Bee?"

"What's wrong?" He asked instantly, setting the hot tray to the stove.

"No, hey, calm down," you smiled with a small laugh. "I was just wondering... You know, like... What's gotten into you?"

"Huh?"

"You know what I mean," you huffed, setting your pencil down. "You literally haven't let me out of your sight except when you're at school."

He shrugged, "You need help."

"You don't ask if I do."

"I don't need to ask when I can just see it."

"Billy."

He sighed and begrudgingly scraped cookies off the hot tray to rest on the cooling sheets. "Your dad asked me to stay close," he offered.

"Bullshit."

"No, really," Billy insisted. "He's in and out with work, so, he asked me to stick around, just in case."

"Okay, fine, but it's more than that. Billy, tell me the truth, baby, please. It's not a bad thing, I'm just curious what's really going on."

"I'm just... I'm just nervous, you know?"

Your head cocked, "Why's that?"

"Look what happened to you," he chuckled ruefully. "All fucked up, can't even go t'school until your ribs are healed - all 'cause of me. 'Cause I fucked up and went too far - "

"William," you snapped, making his wide, shocked eyes meet yours. "I'm not gonna listen to this anymore. Okay? I know you're sorry, you tell me everyday, andI know you're feeling guilty, but this isn't your fault, you're not the one who put hands on me - "

You flinched when he lobbed the cookie tray into the sink, causing a ruckus, his voice yelling over the noise, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

"William!"

"I'm trying to protect you!" He yelled, tears swelling when he whipped around to face you. "I-I don't know what else to do! Look, okay, say what you fucking want, but the truth is, those two assholes came at you 'cause of me. Okay? 'Cause I had to be myself and beat the shit outta them 3 months ago, they never forgave - they didn't forget. I put you in this situation, that now? Now, yeah!" He laughed without humor. "Yeah! I'm fucking nervous leaving you alone! Fuck knows what could happen to you, and who's to say there aren't more people out there just waiting for this kinda opportunity! Baby!" He rushed for you at the kitchen table, your mouth sewn shut in shock as he found his knees in front of you and took both your hands in his. "Baby, listen to me. You're the only thing - no, I'm serious!" He insisted when you looked ready to protest this sentiment you've heard before. "You're the only thing I fucking care about, that I want to protect, and they all know it - I don't exactly hide it. I love you so fucking much, they'd do this again - they'd fucking hurt you to get to me and that idea just..." He sighed, looking lost.

You pulled a hand free to instantly caress his cheek, turning his attention upward until his eyes met yours. "Billy," you whispered, "baby, nobody's after us. This was just a freak accident, this was a fluke, okay? You're worried anyone else is gonna come at me, at us, but I know nobody else is that fucking stupid. They wouldn't test you, and Jake and Steven took advantage of an already bad situation. Okay? We had a fight - which was pretty public. So, people knew we were at odds, and when I showed up at that party alone, started drinking, it was their perfect opportunity to strike."

"You can't say that, we don't know if anyone else is gonna test us," he sniffled. "I've made a lot of mistakes... Pissed a lot of people off. One of them might've grown a pair."

"Okay," you relented, "then I guess we're gonna have to stick together, you know... So you can keep me safe, right?"

He chuckled dryly, "I'm trying, princess."

"Well, we can work out a better way - one that doesn't run you into the fucking ground, Billy, Jesus," you searched his face. "Are you sleeping? At all?"

"'Course I am - "

"Don't lie to me."

He sighed, deflating a little, "I sleep... Only when I stay here."

"Billy, you stay only a couple nights a week when Daddy's home."

"I know."

"So, you basically only sleep when Daddy's out of town and you stay here?" You squeaked, watching him nod; pouting and feeling your own guilt brew. "Baby... Look, can we just agree that this isn't either of our faults? Right? Yeah? If I'm not allowed to think this was my fault, you aren't either."

"I was the one they wanted t'hurt," he shook his head. "They did this 'cause of me, sweetheart, how can you be so - so - fuck! So fucking understanding a-and forgiving?"

"Because I love you," you answered like it was common knowledge, even giving a small giggle.

"That doesn't... But that doesn't even - "

"What? Mean anything? Bee, it means everything," you smiled at him. "I love you, so, when you make mistakes, I forgive you - even though there's nothing you've done. I mean," you winced slightly, "sure, maybe we could reduce the kids you bully or beat up, you know, limit the enemies we might make. And this is something that can be redeemed, can't it?"

He stared at you from the floor, slowly deflating, "Can it? I've fucked up so much, doll, I don't think I deserve whatever forgiveness you wanna give me."

"You can't keep beating yourself up," you snipped. "Hey? Hear me? Look, it happened - it fucking sucked, but it happened and it's fucking over. We both need one another to help move on, okay? So, I need you back, Bee, I need my man back because we need to get through this together. You don't get to sulk in your guilt, I don't get to stew in my regret, we need to help each other out of this."

Billy sniffled, "How? How do we move on when you've still got stitches in your lip?"

"They'll dissolve in a few days," you shrugged meekly. "We move on together, okay? Maybe you pick up basketball again, try to distract yourself. Billy, we need some normalcy again, right? You know?"

"Doll, being away from you makes me feel like my lungs are gonna pop," he shook his head. "I'm afraid something might happen if I'm not there, it's fucking scary after finding you in your own blood."

"Then I'll be at every practice," you eased. "You can drive me to and from school, then you know where I am - you'll know I'm safe."

Billy stared at you a moment, fully dropping to the floor as his energy finally drained. He ran a hand through his hair, rustling the curls, admitting in a soft voice, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not feel so guilty, how to move forward."

"There's no playbook," you agreed. "Guess it means we gotta figure it out ourselves, but again, we do it together. C'mere," you sighed, lowering yourself to the floor with your booted ankle held out.

"No, don't - "

"Fuck off, I'm not totally unable to do shit," you grunted, adjusting yourself and reaching for him. "Come here, please, I wanna hold you! Been cuddling me this whole time, lemme be the big spoon, please."

"Just told me to fuck off, sweetheart, kinda sending some mixed signals, aren't'cha?" He chuckled, turning so his back was to your chest; leaning so you supported him in his slump. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, holding the arm around his collarbones. "I really - if I knew this was gonna happen, I'd never of fought them."

"I know, and I forgive you," you whispered in his ear. "But we can't keep doing this back and forth, okay? I forgive you, Billy, no more apologies."

He sighed, "Yeah... All right..."

"Steven and Jake are arrested, we won't have t'see them again. Hopper will make sure of that," you smirked against the shell of his ear. "And the doctors said I should be good to return to school next week, but I'm out of cheer and everything."

He groaned, "Just something else I've fucked up for you."

"Oh, please, I love the time off," you teased. "Gives me all the time I need to watch my man on the court, huh?" He half-chuckled at your words. "You know I'm ahead in all my classes now, too? Teaching myself at home is far superior than the teacher's bitching at us for eight hours."

"You're gonna love college, baby," he chuckled, the two of you lulling into a comfortable silence. You held him tightly, nuzzled into his neck; both sitting in your emotions, trying to navigate a way out.

"We good?" You whispered.

"We're good," Billy agreed, just as soft. "No more apologies... Try to have less guilt. But you're gonna let me stay close, right?"

"I want you clinging to me so hard, I can't fucking breathe," you smirked. "And if Daddy really asked you to stick around, then you're welcome to stay here longer, even if he's here... Where I can have you close to me," you whispered, licking the skin under his ear. He stiffened.

"No - you better not," he squirmed when you licked again, adding a little teeth in a scrape.

"Billy," you pouted. "It's been weeks!"

"You're still hurt," he argued, turning on the floor to look at you. "I'm not gonna be responsible for breaking another of your ribs 'cause we were horny."

"I'm doing so much better, though!"

"Tell you what," he smirked. "Next business trip of your dad's, I'll fuck you all weekend - wherever you want, however you want."

"He has one in two weeks."

"Mhm, and you have a check up before he leaves."

You eyed him for a moment, "When did you become responsible?"

"I've always been."

"No, this is new. You're remembering dates and my doctor appointments and my dad's work schedule."

"Maybe I just like taking care of you," he whispered against your lips with a growing smirk. After pecking you lips, he quipped, "So, shut up and let me."

"Yes, sir."

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Stranger Things masterlist

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x female!reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove request #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things

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captain-huggy-bear · 9 days ago

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A Love that Gives, Gives, Gives

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Toplessness/nudity but completely non-sexual, just intimate/tender

Summary: Sometimes you think you have the perfect fitting bra and it turns out that it's actually a traitor in disguise. Sometimes your boyfriend is personally offended that an article of clothing would hurt you so much because he's a sap.

Notes: Reader's skin goes red from the pressure of the bra band so apologies if this isn't what happens for you i'm just basing it off my experience as someone who's skin goes bright red.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

There's a special sort of excitement as you get older about seemingly boring and uninteresting things like new underwear. A new fun pair of socks makes your day a bit better, new knickers make you feel more put together than the old ratty ones in your drawer and a new bra make you feel more confident, like you can take on the entire world.

Today is no exception, you had gone into your long day with a sense of confidence thanks to a new underwear set. It had fit just right, or it had originally felt like it had fit just right, when you'd put it on at 6am before going to work. Either way, in that first moment of the day, you'd felt like a bad bitch and like you could take on anything.

Your day had been long, like normal you were out of the house from 6am until near 6pm, and in that time the comfort of your new bra had shifted to a discomforting sort of torment. A level of discomfort that had fallen into pain.

If there was one thing you cursed about being a woman it was the inconsistency of bras. How you could buy the same size in different places and find that they all fit differently, how one style could fit perfectly and another could be torturous, what you hated even more than that was that a bra could feel comfortable and like it fit right for the first few hours, for the time that you tried it on, only to betray you later in the day when it was too late.

This bra had done just that. Perhaps it had been that the band was too narrow? Or maybe that the straps were too tight? Or the style was just the wrong sort for you? Whatever the root cause, by the end of the day you could feel the band of your new bra digging into the skin of your side and back so harshly that you were certain it would be imbedded in you forever if you didn't get it off immediately.

You were quick as you unlocked the apartment door, slamming it a little too hard behind you as you kicked off your shoes, dumped your work bags on the floor without much care and began to rush past Quinn who had sat up from his space lounging on the sofa to greet you.

"Hey, baby," You barely acknowledged him, not more than a grunt as you passed and he frowned. Those green eyes of his following your hurried footsteps to where you disappeared into the bedroom.

It wasn't really a choice that he found himself up and following behind you, leaning against the doorframe of your shared bedroom. More of a compulsion really, an unthinking action, something he couldn't have not done if he tried. Where you went, he followed. You weren't always in the best of moods when you got home, but when you weren't in a good mood you usually sought him out, curling up into his lap as soon as you could for comfort. It was unusual for you to practically ignore him and it left a bad taste in his mouth, a worry that festered.

You feel bad for practically ignoring him, but the burning discomfort of cotton and lace digging into your skin was a more pressing matter, literally. You can feel Quinn's eyes on you from the doorway as you rush to peel out of your work dress in such haste that Quinn's almost certain he hears a rip as you shrug it off your shoulders.

He watches as you reach back, fingers fumbling with your bra clasp and slipping each time despite the years of experience with it. It's your urgency, the frustrated whine you let you that has him stepping forward and reaching for you unthinking, not questioning why this is so urgent but knowing it.

He has the clasp undone in half a second, and the gasp he lets out is as sharp and loud as your sound of relief when the bra falls away from your body and to the floor. Your skin is indented, a divot where the band of your bra had dug in over the day, flesh bright red, every stitch mark clear as day on the surface. It looks so uncomfortable to Quinn, painful and he can tell by your relief that it is.

"Baby..." There's abject concern in his tone, a quiet sort of worry that can be heard in his voice but also felt in the way his fingers barely graze your side. Fingertips careful and cautious as he traces the edge of the welts in your side.

"It's fine...I just clearly brought the wrong size...or style or something..." You lift your arm, looking at your skin in the mirror as you say this. It doesn't reassure Quinn, in fact your casual disregard for your own comfort pisses him off.

"It's not fine." Quinn's tone is short, clipped. His hands find the dip of your waist pulling you back against his chest, chin dipping down so he can press soft kisses to your shoulder, as if it will erase the discomfort of your skin, "Burn it."

"Quinn, I just bought it! It cost like $80!" The price itself makes you wince, $80 on something that seemed to fit but actually couldn't be worn comfortably for more than a few hours no matter how pretty it was.

"So? It hurt you, it can go in the trash and i'll buy you a more comfortable bra, one that won't do this," His hands trail up from your waist, over your skin until they meet the welts in your side. He's gentle, so, so gentle, as he massages little circles into the red marks. "Or, you can go without, who needs bras anyway?" He grumbles into your skin like bras were a personal affront to him. In that moment they felt like they were, anything that hurt his girlfriend was personally offensive.

"Quinn, I can't go around work with my nipples out. It's highly unprofessional." You roll your eyes at him even as you relax into his touch. His fingers are just cool enough that they provide a sense of relief against your burning skin. It's almost like he thinks he can massage the marks away, that if he caresses them enough they'll disappear.

"Okay, so just wear those bras that are stretchy." He thinks to the bra in your drawer, the one that you've managed to fall asleep in before, that never left marks on your skin

"You mean my bralettes? The ugly, shapeless things?" You think of the white that's now off-white from overuse, the fabric pilling, the elastic overstretched from wear. It's not exactly a bra you consider sexy, something practical instead, comfortable.

"They're not ugly. They're comfortable." He mumbles it into your neck, beard scratching your skin and making you twitch. His fingers are running along the indents in your side, giving up on small circles, and going for long strokes instead.

"I...I just wanted to wear something pretty."

"You're pretty enough on your own, baby," Quinn's kisses travel up your neck, pressing into your jaw and cheek as if he can kiss the thought into you, as if he can make you believe it with just a few presses of his lips, "but...if it's that important, we'll go get you fitted properly at one of those fancy lingerie stores and I'll buy you all the pretty bras you want as long as they don't hurt you."

"Really?" You catch his eye in the mirror, the look he gives you is soft and sincere, eyes crinkling at the edges. Quinn's good with his money, responsible, but he loves to spoil you, even more so because you don't expect it or ask for it. Even more so because you're so careful with your own money.

"Mmmhmm, still prefer you without a bra, but I can compromise, for you." He smirks as you twist to whack him in his shoulder, he laughs as his hands slip back to your waist.

"Quinn." Your voice is a bad attempt at sounding disapproving, the slight laughter you're trying to hide still coming out from underneath as you frown at him.

"First things first though," You watch as Quinn slips to his knees in front of you, still tall enough that he reaches the centre of your chest. There's something about him on his knees like that, looking up at you from beneath long lashes that feels devotional, like he's praying at an altar or shrine. It feels practically blasphemous and makes your stomach flip nervously.

"What are doing?" Your hand fingers his hair without much thought on your part, fingers glinding through dark waves, nails lightly scratching his scalp in a way that makes his eyelashes flutter.

"Kissing it better, then you're going to get into one of those really oversized t-shirts I have and we're going to watch your favourite movie and i'm going to order your favourite take-out."

"All because of my bra?"

"Mmhmm, gotta look after my girl."

He doesn't entertain your conversation any further, Quinn's lips trail over waist before they meet the left side of your ribs. He kisses across angry, red skin, warm to the touch from the pooling of blood under your skin. He takes his time as your eyes flutter close, revelling in the simple quiet intimacy, the tenderness as he cares for you. It's perhaps all in your head, but you think every kiss seems to erase a little bit more pain, a little bit more discomfort.

Your nails trail across the back of his neck as he shifts, lips pressing kisses across your ribs until he reaches the marks on your right side. He's as careful, as gentle as before as he presses kisses over the deep red grooves, nose brushing the skin lightly as he goes. It sets an ache of the best kind in your chest, an ache of affection of love, for this man who will supplicate himself to you, who will press kisses to your skin over something as simple as a too tight bra.

Until Quinn you'd never known this sort of love, all consuming, but not loud. Quiet, gentle. The sort of love that seeks to provide for you in every way imaginable even when you argue, even when you fight. The sort of love that sees all your broken and tender parts and just seeks to soften them, soothe them. A sort selfless love that seeks to give, give, give.

"I love you..." You whisper it, the quiet atmosphere too tender and delicate for anything louder. Your thumbs moving to rub against his cheeks as Quinn places one last kiss on your skin before looking up at you like you've hung the moon.

You're not entirely sure what you did in a past life to deserve Quinn and the sort of love that he gives you, but you choose not to question it. Scared that if you do it will disappear like a puff of smoke.

Quinn is no less gentle when he rises to his feet and guides you by the hand to your bed, no less gentle when he finds the biggest, softest t-shirt he can find and helps you slip it over your head.

His love for you is evident when he puts your favourite movie on without asking what one it is again, its evident when you hear him on the phone ordering your exact favourite takeout order, not forgetting a single item off the list. He doesn't need to say it, it's evident in all his actions, still he does. He mumbles it into your hair as you curl up together in front of the television.

For Quinn there is no greater goal in life than making you feel seen, known, loved and he does it so effortlessly.

#huggy bear writes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes/reader #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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fairene · 7 months ago

Text

one of your girls / ln4, part two

lando norrisxfem!reader

no use of y/n, as always.

part one

a/n ⋯ I LIED IT'S COMING OUT NOW!!! i sat down for 'bout four hours after work and a family dinner to knock this the fuck OUTTTT. it's shorter than i expected, but this was the best way i could wrap up this supposed 'oneshot'. i hope you all enjoy it. and remember, it is up to YOU for what you are wearing, clothes are intentionally vaguely described for your own viewing pleasure. and tbh, i did not proof read this...don't sue me!!! I JUST WAnted it out asap for everyone@!!! pls don't let it flop!!!

warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, drunk hookup, choking (slight), p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, overstimulation, feral lando. sickeningly in love lando, possession, jealousy.

wc ⋯ 13.7k (unedited!)

he hadn’t heard from you in weeks. weeks. it was driving him fucking insane. he didn’t know that the girl would come back, he didn’t know she would be a bitch, and he certainly didn’t know you would react that way. to his ultimate surprise, it was a comfort knowing that you did care. however sick and twisted it was, it told him without using your words, that you wanted something.

things had been left unsaid between the pair of you for a long time. too long. he was never in the business of guessing your feelings, assuming that you felt one way or another about him. and neither were you. both of you were too fucking stubborn for your own good. neither of you could see what was right in front of you–

each other.

and that was the worst part for lando. it had him pushing himself harder. faster. to be better to perhaps catch your attention. to win you back through his ability to race. but you didn’t care about that. you didn’t care about how fast he drove his car, didn’t care about the number of podiums he got. you cared about him. but you never let the words fall upon his ears, and that was your first mistake.

it was the weekend in spain. warm, but not too humid, you traveled with alexandra and the rest of the ferrari hospitality team. you had gotten close to carlos’ girlfriend, rebecca, as well. they were both great company and more times than not, lando had slipped from your mind completely.

but not for him.

he was a mess. a wreck without you. guilt consumed him night and day, and he would feel eternally wrought with what could have been. he’s called you, texted you, even had oscar reach out to you, but there was nothing but radio silence and the bolded words ‘read’ beneath his sent messages. it hurt more knowing that you saw him suffering and did nothing about it.

but he deserved it. he deserved this treatment. he wasn’t going to fight you. he would roll over, belly up like a good boy for you. pay attention to me, his actions would scream. look in my direction. but you didn’t even view his stories on social media anymore. didn’t even like his posts.

the british driver would be found pacing back and forth, staring hunchback at his phone. oscar would watch him from across the room, legs dangling from the papaya barstool. he hated to see lando this way, but he knew what he did. lando was honest with oscar, hoping to maybe seek advice in his own girlfriend. but lily simply shrugged her shoulders and her expression said enough.

you did this to yourself.

but little did you know is that he threw that girl out the moment you left. okay, not literally, but in ever metaphoric way possible. he never contacted her again. he hadn’t contacted any girl, in fact, these past few weeks. he would be isolated with his PR team at every occasion, refusing to even entertain the thought of hitting up a new girl.

his loyalty to you was suddenly unwavering, but it was too late.

“mate,” oscar said from where he sat. lando didn’t look up, just hummed, staring at your last text to him.

‘you’re too sweet,’

too sweet. what would you say now? you had replied to a set of merchandise he saved for you, special edition for miami’s grand prix, and that had been it. from you. he had to scroll down through the text chain to reach the bottom. his endless apologies, desperate words, and more apologies. he felt nauseous. sick that he ever treated you that way.

his favorite girl. his girl.

“she’s here.”

what?

lando’s head snapped up, looking frantically around. but there was no sign of you.

“with alexandra. ferrari paddock.” oscar gestured his phone towards lando. he snatched it from him, letting his eyes fly across the photo. it was a picture of you, rebecca, and alexandra. posted on alexandra’s instagram story.

you looked…

happy.

he…

he didn’t know why he was upset by that. he wanted you to feel the same level of anger, sadness, distress, even. but here you were– looking absolutely beautiful with your bright smile. so fucking beautiful. he remembers he was there when you picked out that top. and god, he was right, it’s meant for you.

lando threw oscar’s phone back at him, and knew this would be a long fucking weekend.

barcelona’s air had been clean. much cleaner than miami, new york. the decor of the paddock, too, had you thinking and trailing your fingers over the textures. you had done that more– feeling the things around you. you used to do that with lando. but now he was gone, and you had to suffice to other obscurities to lay your fingers upon.

gone. the word echoed in the chasm of your mind. gone. you didn’t realize the depth of lando’s absence would impact you this much, but that had been a mistake on your part. clearly. an oversight of your intimate relationship. that, eventually, it would end. it would end in flames, crash and burn, and ultimately never recover. as much as you thought, anyways.

you heard your name being called from the other side of the couch. you glanced up.

rebecca stared at you expectedly.

“sorry,” you breathed. “what did you say?”

rebecca huffed, but repeated herself regardless. “i said that i have a friend with me i want you to meet.” you raised your brows quizzically. “i think you’ll like him.”

him? him? oh, fuck, here we go.

as much as you wanted to breeze past what happened in lando’s monaco apartment, you couldn’t. your feelings, as heavy as they were, weighed you down into the abyss of lando norris’ wellbeing.

you didn’t sleep with anyone since him. you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. it didn’t feel right, and your own attempt at an orgasm was ultimately futile.

but you said nothing when rebecca turned, pulling a man from conversation with carlos. he looked confused, but let his eyes settle on you. he relaxed.

he was a handsome chap. dark hair, dark eyes. tanned skin. fit. he had a grecian nose, one that was slim and curved. not like lando’s, you thought, but brought yourself down to earth and stood. you greeted him with two kisses on the cheek, and his name was raphael.

“so you are…” his spanish accent was thick and attractive. you couldn’t deny that. “friends with rebecca?”

“that’s right.” you nodded, bringing a bottle of water to your lips to cool down. “you, as well?”

he shrugged, giving you a ‘so-so’ hand gesture. “carlos, really,” you let out a soft ‘ahh’ and soon realized, too, that this would be a long fucking weekend.

the day of free practices came and went. so did your time with raphael. he wasn’t a bad conversationalist whatsoever, you were simply not interested. but you made a promise to rebecca this weekend that you would try. try and branch out instead of looking insatiably bored on live television. she was right. you needed to get over this and move on, because lando must’ve, right? he must’ve slept with that girl, given the fact that he didn’t go after you.

did you expect him to?

you weren’t sure. you weren’t fucking sure of anything. you weren’t a mindreader for fucks sake. but you saw his text messages. all of them. you made yourself sick with despair every night, rereading them to yourself like the fucking bible. what did you expect him to do for you? crucify himself? maybe. just maybe.

as you were walking down the pit lane with alexandra at your side, you felt the wafting air of an oncoming storm of people. you glanced around, but alexandra was the one to point it out.

“uh oh.”

the papaya suits could be seen from anywhere. it’s not like they were subtle.

you bristled and stood up straight. fuck, okay. this was happening. he’s walking this way. was he coming toward you? no, don’t be so foolish. but you hoped that he would.

lando was approaching you, but his eyes were set forward. but when you weren’t bothering to look, he had been staring at you the entire way here. he could spot you from miles away with your countenance, your undying beauty.

but he didn’t stop to look at you.

you didn’t either.

but your hands–

god your hands

they brushed past one another when he swept past your shoulder. his pinky desperately latching to yours before you let him go. you gasped lowly and he heard it, his ears twitching with the sound. but he didn’t stop. he couldn’t.

if he stopped to turn, he would kiss you out in the open.

you dared him to.

but you both kept on your way, and the interaction had you fuming. why can’t he care to show up? texts, calls, whatever, didn’t compare to the ability to show up. you knew he was in monaco. you knew exactly when he was there. it wasn’t a fucking secret.

fuck him.

you didn’t care if you were being a brat. you knew what you put at stake, but you opened your heart to him. and you believed that maybe, just maybe, if that girl hadn’t interrupted, the two of you would be in a very different situation. maybe. but you didn’t let that thought linger. you couldn’t.

“what was that?” alexandra whispered to you as you both kept walking.

“nothing.”

and that’s what you promised yourself it to be. nothing. when in reality, it had been everything. lando had seen you, spotted you from what felt like a mile away with a man lingering at your side. fuck. reality set in for him that you were looking. you were looking elsewhere from him for companionship. it made him fucking sick to his stomach, and he knew that had to change. he was a man on a mission now, a conqueror ready to pillage.

it was the evening when you found yourself locked away in your hotel room. it was well past ten o’clock, and you were exhausted form today. alexandra had invited you out, but you just couldn’t bring yourself. rebecca prodded away at you, too, insisting that you and raphael hit it off today. he said that he wanted to see you again.

you had thought about it. you really did.

but you couldn’t.

you’d been sucked into a tv melodrama in your hotel room when you felt your phone vibrate. someone was calling you.

you checked the time and raised a brow, lifting your phone to see the all-too-familiar contact card lighting up your face in the ambient lighting of the room.

lando

you hesitated.

suddenly your heart was racing, beating rapidly against the cage of your chest, and you felt like a prisoner to your anxiety. you felt it drop to your stomach, feeling queasy, but hit ‘answer call’ anyways. you lifted your phone to your ear, and let out a soft breath.

“what?”

your words were bitter, but quiet in the solitude of your room.

“didn’t think you’d answer,” came his raspy voice from the other end. he was breathless, as if he had been running. or fucking some girl. fuck you, you wanted to bite out, but held your tongue.

“neither did i.”

that earned you a cheeky laugh from him. he hesitated, too, before breathing. “are you at your hotel?”

you were confused by the question. “yes.”

“can i see you?”

his words hit you hard. you fell back against the pillows of your bed, hand coming to rest over your forehead. you sighed with a grumble. “i don’t think that’s a good idea.”

you could practically feel him wince through the phone.

“please.”

fuck him and his soft words. his desperate tone, the pity that you felt for him grew. the fact of the matter flew from your head, disappearing with a singular plead from his cracked vocals. he sounded honest. that he truly wanted to see you, and a small part of you wished to reconcile whatever was happening between the two of you. you were not a woman of small touches– you wanted it all, or nothing.

“okay.”

lando cleared his throat, choking on his breath, exhibiting his initial shock. “i– okay, okay, what room are you in?”

“610.”

he hung up before you could let out a breath. your phone fell onto your nightwear– a simple baggy shirt and spandex. they were what kept you most comfortable at night.

your hands raked over your face, pulling your eyelids with it. what were you doing? engaging with him, talking with him over the phone. the long text chains of read messages you had banished him to sat idly on your screen, staring you down with an ambivalence that you quivered before. was this a mistake? should you just pretend you’re–

there was a knock at your door seconds into your thoughts.

you jumped from your bed, hands raking through your hair. how did he get here so fucking quick? you scrambled around your room, checking yourself in any reflection you could find. fuck, why were you so nervous? how could he possibly make you so riddled with anxiety in a matter of seconds? your heart was in overdrive once again, and you wondered just how much you could take.

he said your name through the door. weak, pining. you dropped the brush you grabbed in the bathroom instantly, feet soaring over the hardwood floor to open it. when you did, you were face to face with the british driver.

he wasn’t drunk. that’s a first. the thought crossed your mind only briefly, thinking that you were just a booty call in the late hours of the night. it wouldn’t be the first time.

lando was disheveled, messy, and the white shirt he wore was ruffled. upon his head was a mclaren hat, concealing his identity from the outside. most importantly, though, that you noticed was how his face was glazed in a sheath of sweat. you cocked a brow at him.

“did you run here?”

lando shrugged. it felt, in that moment, that things were normal between you two. that all of this…shit washed over for just a second. you felt at home. comfortable. but you cleared your throat and let him walk in, shutting the door behind you.

you didn’t want to speak to him here. not where he could see your laundry everywhere, pairs of underwear sprawled around so he’d get distracted. not that you expected to fuck him here, though the thought didn’t upset you. fuck, you were in deep.

you brushed past him, leading him to the small terrace just outside your bedroom. you slid the door open and leaned your back against the railing. he slid the door shut behind the two of you, and he took a seat in one of the wooden picnic chairs. he gawked at you, openly, letting his eyes run over your bare legs beneath the oversized shirt.

“don’t do that.” you said, breaking the silence between you two. you seemed to rip him out of his dreamscape with a clearing of his throat.

“do what?” he feigned innocence. though he knew what he was doing. he missed you, lest he verbalize that.

“look at me,” you breathed, “like that.”

his brow lifted, still playing dumb. dumb, as if he didn’t want to take you over this railing, ask you to be his.

“like what?”

you scoffed.

“like you’re in love with me.”

ouch. your words bit harder than he thought they would, blood gushing from an open wound in his heart. he let your words settle before he leaned back in the chair, legs spreading as he fiddled with the skin of his thumbs.

“i wanted to see you.”

“i know,” you answered. “you saw me. now what?”

lando shook his head. “don’t do that.” please don’t do that he wanted to say.

“do what?” it was your turn to play dumb. your turn to pretend that you weren’t doing the same thing. pushing him away was the easiest way to deal with all of your problems.

“act so cold.” he turned his head away from you, glancing over towards the lights of the city. “giving me frostbite.”

“lando, what–”

“i’m sorry.”

huh? you froze, eyes widening as you straightened upright. did you hear him correctly? it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve heard an apology. but this was a first to hear it in person, not in begging text messages half way across the world.

“what–?”

“for everything. i’m sorry.” his head fell to his hands as he leaned over, gripping at the curls atop his head. you felt the same urge creeping up your spine, your hands feeling empty. you shifted on your feet, stepping a foot closer.

“why now?”

he perked up, wondering what you meant.

“why, now, are you sorry?”

he was speechless. unable to form the words that could answer such a vague question. but you had an idea, so you thought you’d share.

“because i was with someone?” raphael. you know that he saw the two of you talking. chatting. maybe an occasional giggle so you could keep him quiet for the rest of the free practices.

lando began to shake his head. “no, no–”

“really?”

you stepped into his space, wedging yourself between his thighs. he stared up at you, lost in the reflection of your eyes beneath the starlit sky. his hands found your hips and you let him keep them there, at least for the moment.

“really.” he promised you. head leaning forward to rest on your stomach. you felt the perch of his nose dig into your skin. your head leaned back, taking a large breath, feeling tears begin to well.

“what do you want, then?” you said with a shaky breath.

you felt his hands tense against your hips.

“i don’t know.” his words were muffled, but you could make them out. it shattered you to hear the creak in his voice, but it hurt even more knowing that he didn’t know. you wanted something with him. a relationship. but he didn’t feel the same.

your fingers cupped his face, bringing him to look at you. “that’s it, then, huh?” your voice was dangerously soft.

he was confused. again.

“that’s all i’ll be?” he still didn’t catch on, too busy staring at your flushed face, reddened eyes. he wanted to fix it– take back his words. he’d do anything to reverse time. would do anything to revoke the words that spilled from your pretty lips.

“one of your girls.”

you pushed him away, walking back to the railing with your back turned. he said your name over and over. you ignored him.

“i think,” you said, sucking in a tight breath to calm the storm of emotions that were threatening to raise hell. “that you should go.”

“no, no–” lando stood, coming to wrap his arms around you, but you turned, holding up your hand to stop your advances.

“we knew this would happen one day, didn’t we?” you reaffirmed, steadying your breaths the best that you could. but it was difficult. nothing about this was easy. but it had to be done. you were done waiting. done pining for someone that did not feel the same. did not burn the same.

lando breathed your name again. you shook your head. “no. no. we can’t–” you choked on your tears. it felt hard to breathe. “i can’t keep waiting for you.”

lando’s own eyes filled with tears. it felt like a breakup, when you two were clearly never together. you made that clear enough, and he obeyed, just wishing to feel your skin beneath his fingers, fall asleep to your heart beat. so why did he say he didn’t know? fuck, he’s such an asshole. he couldn’t take back his words now, could he?

he tried to explain. words stumbled from his lips, nervous and riling with anxiety, but you would hear none of it. you simply brushed past him and into your room, opening the door from your hotel room for him. you said nothing else, tears sliding down your cheeks, lip caught between your teeth.

“please,” he begged one last time. he had succumbed to his tears, too, cheeks flushed and lip wet. his hands trembled as he made one last attempt to cup your face. you let him.

your foreheads met in both desperation and exhaustion. here, it felt like time stopped. the two of you in sync with your racing hearts, trembling hands, voracious blood churning through your veins. you looked up at him through your wet lashes and he met your gaze. it only had you sobbing harder.

he wiped the tears from your cheeks.

“please,” he said your name on his trembling tongue. the sound had your knees trembling, but you resisted. you had to. you couldn’t keep doing this anymore. there was a life out there, waiting for you to take hold of. “don’t make me go.”

you let out a shaky breath, shaking your head.

“you have to.”

lando hiccuped. his fingers were still shaking, and he finally accepted your rejection. though he supposed he signified it first. that was his first mistake. he couldn’t take back his words without sounding like a dick, so he was trapped. trapped utterly in this pit of mayhem.

he exited your hotel room with his tail between his legs. defeated.

you shut the door behind him and slumped against it, your back sliding down until you hit the floor. your head fell into your hands as you attempted to stifle your sobs.

little did you know, that he had done the same thing, fallen limp against your hotel room door. your sobs were in unison as you began to unravel, whilst he coiled into knots. forever entwined amidst your inability to be vulnerable with one another. toilsome, but ultimately true.

you didn’t know how long you stayed there. he didn’t know how long he stayed there. the two of you stayed in parallel behind a closed door, mimicking each other’s beating heart, for you knew that they would never be one.

when you woke, you were still slumped against the door. you stood, stretching out your painfully aching muscles, arched your back, twisted your neck. your eyes were swollen raw with your epidemic of tears the night prior, and you rubbed the crust away. the memories flooded through you. lando was here. he was here, and you had to haul his ass out.

you thought he was going to kiss you.

but he didn’t. your lips would remain untouched by his own.

your fingers ghosted over your mouth, shivering at the memory of him so close to you. you could feel his breath fanning over your face– the heaving, desperate puffs of air– and he felt yours, too, with the same amount of anxiety. you were a wreck before him, and he was too.

in no time you found your phone, grimacing at your battery, and the plethora of texts from rebecca and alexandra. it was still early in the morning so you had time to pull yourself together, but you had a big day with them today. qualifying was happening, and rebecca had set you up.

she set you up with raphael for the day. you knew she meant the best. and maybe it was. this was your opportunity to uphold your promise– to move on. you had to, or else you would be strung dry for the remainder of your life, with dreary hopes and aimless romantics. you would not drown in the ocean of lando norris, despite how cumbersome he gripped on your ankles.

you fixed yourself for the day. showering quickly, styling your hair to your liking. you threw on a formal chic outfit, perhaps trying a bit hard today to catch raphael’s eye– or someone else’s, by chance. but you left the unattainable at the back of your mind today, heart far too raw to be ripped open again.

you would stick with something safe. someone safe. raphael was your answer in the short term. you were sick of playing the long game, bested to your knees in the face of whatever conspired between you and the british driver. you were convinced it was for the best. it had to be. these emotions couldn’t be for nothing.

it couldn’t be for nothing.

when you arrived to the track that morning, alexandra was quick to meet your side. she had an impenetrable amount of questions for you, yearning for your answers, but you only gave her a brief overview.

“we’re done,” you said as you walked through the pit lane. “he doesn’t want me like that.”

she was clearly taken back. her hand flew over her heart, obviously distressed for you. you admired her care for you. you would do the same for her. “really?”

you nodded, gulping down the lump in your throat that was tempting to choke you.

“it’s okay.” you reaffirmed her. she made a move to speak over you, console you to the highest degree, but you stopped her. “i’m fine. swear. let’s have a good day, shall we?” you plastered on a fake smile towards her, but you knew she saw through you. but she would accept this for now when you were approached by carlos, rebecca, and raphael.

you smiled brighter when raphael came to kiss both your cheeks. you gripped his bicep. engaging in conversation with him felt easier today, and you weren’t begging for an out. you’d catch rebecca’s eye here and there, and she glowed with happiness. if you weren’t doing this for yourself, you could at least say that you were doing it for her.

raphael was not a bad man whatsoever. he smelled good, had good hygiene, and had a glowing smile. but he didn’t smell the same. didn’t have the same musk. didn’t have the harsh pricks of a stubble that burned into the skin of your neck.

fuck. you missed the feeling of that stubble.

you clung to raphael’s side for the rest of the day, a burning itch between your thighs undoing the morals of your mind. if you wanted to get over lando, you’d have to truly get over him.

it was never a ‘string’s attached’ relationship, was it? you were free to fuck whoever you want, when you want. so why would it be so bad if you wished to see raphael bend down for you?

or you wanted someone else, but raphael was the closest you’d get.

the rest of the day went by smoothly. for you, at least, but not for lando.

he had come into the mclaren paddock looking absolutely awry. his hair messy, eyes dreary with sleep and emotion, whereas you…you looked beautiful. untouched by your emotions from the night before. so much so that you were cuddled against that same fucking dude, which had lando’s blood bursting to life.

you were across in the pitlane observing the car, arms folded over your chest. that fucking guy’s hand rested on the upper part of your back, rolling soft circles with the pads of his fingers. he clenched the rim of his helmet in his hands. his teeth grinded inside his mouth, sawing down the enamel. for you, he’d have no teeth. for you were the only world he wished to bite, and even then you starved him of it.

“y’alright, mate?” oscar’s voice interrupted his thoughts. lando broke his stare from the pair of you, ripping his eyes away.

but you had turned, then, and let your eyes linger on his back.

“fine.”

that evening was no different than any other. for lando, at least, he succumbed to his hotel room for the night. he had no interest in going out. if he saw you with that spanish prick, he’d only lose himself even more. the guilt of losing you had been overturning, divulging into what a psychologist would declare as madness.

but you were the opposite. you were out on the town, clubbing with rebecca and raphael. carlos was there, too, but was saving his energy for the race tomorrow. he held no drink in his hand, but you did. you were downing shot after shot.

you were swaying your hips, grinding against raphael with a steady pace. he was into it. his dick was aggressively hard against the back side of your dress, but you weren’t scared by it. it enticed you further, in fact, and had you drawing new sensations of pleasure through you.

finally, you thought, a break from him. from lando. but the voices echoed inside the back of your mind. it bounced off the walls; he couldn’t compare.

lando would have his hands drawing up the sides of your body. fingertips scathing the fabric of your dress, teasing touches that would have you writhing in his hold, desperate for him to fuck you in the back.

lando would have his face nuzzled into your neck whispering bittersweet praises into your ear. he’d squeeze your hips with anticipation as the both of you would move in sync. always in sync. the two of you were one on the dance floor, one when you fucked one another senseless in your less than private moments. when he was particularly desperate for your touch, he’d go as far as taking you in the bathrooms at any club. he had no shame; not when it came to you.

but raphael was tame. and maybe you appreciated tame. maybe this was a new start for you. fresh and free of any unknowns.

“you’re beautiful, hermosa.” he would whisper to you, body trying its best to keep up with you. he did, for the most part, but you moved to your own beat. lando would know. he knew every inch of you. were you really prepared to be strangers?

you spun around in raphael’s arms, wrapping yours around his neck. you offered him a cheeky smile. this wasn’t you. “and you’re handsome!” it was alcohol talking. you would never be seen so exuberant. not like this.

it had raphael laughing, though, and it was enough for him to take you back to his place.

the entire way back to his place you were giggling, latching onto his tanned skin. his hair was soft, sheen, and luscious. your hands never got lost in the strands of his hair– it was too combed, not curly enough. nothing was curly enough.

and then he had you against the wall of his flat. your hands pinned against your head, and he met your lips with his. fuck, you couldn’t remember the last time you’ve been kissed. but the worst part about all of it was–

you hated it.

you tugged his head down to your neck, letting him work the sensitive skin with his tongue. your lips felt hot. blistering with a heat you haven’t felt in a long time. it felt…it felt…

raphael’s tongue found the meeting part of your underwear and skin, “can i?” he asked with a timid voice. you let out a soft moan and nodded. he tugged the fabric down, your dress still hanging off your body. you didn’t even remember if he left kisses along your neck, your breasts, you guessed his lips weren’t that memorable.

and then his tongue was against your slit. you weren’t wet enough. clearly. you could feel the chapped parts of your cunt, disappointed in your body that you couldn’t ‘get it up’ for him. whereas he was practically jacking off in his pants, you were left like a desert. it wouldn’t be like this with lando.

he explored your cunt with his tongue, narrowly dodging your clit ever so slightly. he thought your noises of pleasure were noises of distress, so he avoided touching your clit as much as possible. so he tongued you through and through, until you began to become irritated.

you couldn’t even feel tight in your stomach. the feeling couldn’t be outmatched. maybe your sexdrive had died. maybe you could never cum ever again. this was to be your fate– dry and lonely. fuck. you let your head fall back against the wall, which he took as a good sign, and kept going. instead, you threaded your hands through his hair, rolling your eyes.

you let out a few soft, faked moans. you felt guilty– of course you did– but apparently it was an olympic sport to make you cum. he certainly wouldn’t make the playoffs.

after another minute of this, you were fed up.

you tightened your cunt on command, which took a lot of fucking work, thank you, and began to heighten the sound of your moans. the award for best fake orgasm goes to: you!!! you surged forward to grip onto his shoulders, even pretending to be shaking.

you deserved an oscar.

“didn’t think i was that good.”

an egot, maybe.

you let out a soft sigh, a faked chuckle, and let him lead you to his bedroom. he fell atop of you on your back, holding himself up with the strength of his forearms. he dipped his hand down, scathing over your irritated cunt. you gasped at his hand finding your slit once again, drenched in only his spit, and without warning slipped a finger inside of you.

your mouth hung open, lurching at the sudden contact. you felt sinched beneath his weight, taught with tension. he even curled his finger inside of you. he grazed your bundle of nerves that had your squirming. squirming for more pressure. he kept hitting your spot until he pulled away. you looked confused at first, wondering where exactly he was going.

and…then he was pulling his cock out. fuck. you really weren’t going to win here, tonight, were you? not in the slightest, it seemed. he looked down at you with a knowing smirk. the same one where he thought you came beneath his tongue.

he thought you came.

fuck!

“are you ready?” he asked when his cock pushed against the skin of your lower belly. he was a good size, you admit, but you had a inkling that you weren’t going to find a sweet release with his hands. you nodded, forgetting your manners, but raphael said nothing.

he pushed into you with a discerning pace. you scrunched your nose out of his eyesight. he was too busy fucking himself into your pussy. he couldn’t even open his eyes to look at you. and, for the record, he didn’t use a condom. dick. at least you had a form of a contraceptive. you’d make sure not to let him finish inside you. that’s for fucking sure.

he slid in and out of you with the lubrication of his spit and his own precum. you didn’t move. you laid there, bored, faking a moan and gasp here and there.

the whole time you thought about someone else. and you didn’t feel guilty about it. you were able to find yourself comforted by the dreaming thought of lando’s voice in your ear. the phantom touch of his stubble. the amount of moles that you could count on his face.

with a grunt, you felt raphael push off of you, cumming onto his own sheets. he laid there, panting, and you…”did the same.”

he turned to face you, smile on his face. “did you finish?”

you nodded with an itching smile. he seemed triumphant. though you couldn’t be drier than a haystack.

your exit from his flat quickly. it’s not like he even took your dress off. he insisted that you stayed, but you retorted that you had an early morning with alexandra. whether or not that's true, you didn’t seem to care. he didn’t fight your statement and seamlessly let you go, clearly too exhausted from his evening to even see you out the door.

you hailed a cab from your hotel shamefully. you felt icky. your lip sneered when you caught a cab and tipped the driver once you arrived back. the elevator ride never seemed so tantalizingly long.

when you swiped into your room, you threw your belongings on your bed and turned on a hot shower. while you waited for the water to heat, you opened your phone.

no messages from lando.

did you expect any?

maybe.

you decided to call him. you didn’t fucking care. it was the alcohol talking.

ring…ring…ring…ring…ring…

no answer.

you left a voicemail.

“heeyyy…!!” you surged into the phone as you began to untangle your dress from your body. “i–uh, i dunno i just…wanted to call you… because i…” you swore under your breath as you couldn’t get a strap off. “sorry i…” you stuttered, laughing to yourself. “i think i miss you, lan.”

and then you hung up, singing yourself into the shower. the hot water panned over your body, fingers trailing over the mounds of your breasts. the soft skin of your abdomen.

but with your whimsy, came a price.

lando was there. he just didn’t answer your call. he had been awake, wondering what you were doing, since you were absent on almost all forms of social media. so when he got your call, he couldn’t bring himself to accept it.

then the voicemail came.

he must’ve played it over a dozen times. hearing your soft voice, amicable and kind. you had been drinking, clearly, and he could hear the sound of the shower running in the background. he held his phone against his head, other hand running through his hair. he was a wreck over you, and you were as well. drunk dialing was never a thing between the two of you.

especially an ‘i miss you.’

and how ‘lan’ slipped past your lip with such ease. the name was meant for you to use. only you.

he found himself stroking his cock to your words, the temptress in your voice. he knew she was there, baiting him, and he was no better than a fish to bite. he fisted his cock with your name on his lips, and a reminder that yours was on his.

with a pounding heartbeat and ringing in his ears, all he could think about was you. and more or less, you the same.

your fingers trailed down your navel in the shower, coming to nib at the lips of your clit. how swollen it was, angered and annoyed, that such a man could ignore it. by association, you.

a hand rolled over one of your breasts, twisting your nipple in hand. you gasped at the sensation you provided, flicking your clit between your fingers. you truly needed no more to make yourself cum, except the thought of lando’s voice in your ears.

‘come on, baby,’ he would say to you, fingers gliding along your drenched slit with ease. you clenched around nothing, whimpering to yourself in the hum of the hot shower. ‘little more for me, yeah?’ he would always talk you through it. never once would you be alone when you came. he was always there, lingering, a shadow against the walls.

you slipped a single finger inside of yourself, curling it expertly as lando taught you to. ‘just like that, sweet thing.’ he’d mutter against your shoulder as he’d fuck you on a chair facing a mirror. you could never make yourself cum before his “lessons.”

your back arched against the marble of the shower walls. your thumb and forefinger worked just like his would against your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves until a coil inside of you snapped, and you came all over yourself with his name on your lips.

and he could feel it. amongst the cosmic plane. he had been grudgingly fisting his cock, grunting your name over his lips. it was sinful, the way that his cock was spewing cum in only a matter of minutes at the thought of your voice. ‘lan, lan,’ you would say to him, ‘need it. need you inside,’ you’d whimper against him, begging for his cum to seep out of you.

he’d never deny you a pleasure. so he shouldn’t deny himself. he came in a matter of seconds over the palm of his hand, your name flustering his tongue. and he’d lay there, soaking in his milky cum, eyes blown wide at just how much of an effect you had on him; mind, body, and soul.

you stood there in the shower, flustered from heat, the slick running down your thighs. your hearts beat in unison at that moment, miles apart, on the same wavelength.

the shower wasn’t the same after that. you felt dirty, but so good. the namesake of lando’s voice in your ear was enough to have you cumming on your own fingers, but the touch of another man made you ill. what a shock that was to you. or maybe it wasn’t a surprise at all.

clean to the best of your ability, you slept easy that night. the best sleep you’ve had this weekend, in fact, with lando frolicking through your dreams. and you in his, whispering soft ‘i love you’s’ which had him writhing with pleasure. you infested every part of him, and he did the same to you. you’d never be free of lando norris, and the thought began to settle. it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but you couldn’t forget his words.

‘i don’t know,’ he spoke into your stomach. his nose pinched you. the words sliced clean. your stomach coiled not with pleasure, but anxiety. why didn’t he want you that way? why did he hesitate?

you weren’t taking his rejection well. that was clear.

but he wasn’t taking this any better. he was going through his own emotional turmoil of trying to make this up to you. it would be the last thing that he did.

when you woke that morning with a groggy headache and a sore ache between your thighs, you couldn’t help but groan. what the fuck were you doing last night? you perhaps had the most disappointing sex of your entire life, and now, as you looked in the mirror you were nothing more than mortified.

littered on your chest, above your breasts, were a few specks of bruises. hickey’s. fuck. fuck. that was one thing that was always far too intimate. kisses and hickeys. what did this mean, then, that you belonged to raphael? your fingers trailed up the bruises on your chest, the flesh tender beneath your soft touch. you winced at the memory of his cocky face, thinking that he had you finishing more than once. if at all. you leaned over the sink, washing your face off with cold water.

your hands rested at the base of your neck. your reflection stared back at you, pitiful, the bruises beneath your eyes reflected a tiredness that the word ‘exhaustion’ could not begin to fathom. you were disappointed in yourself. that much was clear.

a sigh escaped you when you finally mustered the courage to leave the bathroom. for the race today, you decided on a long dress. one that covered your chest, but hung on your shoulders. it was a beautiful piece. you’d been saving it for this weekend, and you were more than thankful that the universe seemed to be looking out for you.

you tidied up your appearance the best you could and slid on a pair of heels, grimacing at the sore ache from the night before. raphael didn’t have a valet, so you had to walk across four blocks with his hands wandering down your sides, desperate to fuck you in an alleyway. ew. you shivered at the memory, but continued on from your hotel room.

though, you took one last glance before leaving, and let your eyes rest on the balcony. it felt like a dream to see lando sitting there, his face resting against the tender flesh of your stomach. his stubble itched through the cotton of your shirt, but it rather tickled. and then he said he didn’t know what he wanted with you, and your whole life slipped right through your fingers.

he slipped through your fingers.

you shut the door.

lando’s morning, on the other hand, started off stellar in comparison to yours. he had stayed up a while longer, wondering if you would call him back, but you never did. there was a faint pang of disappointment, but much more guilt that he let you slip away so easily. he should’ve refused to leave your hotel room that night. refused by any force you attempted on him.

but he’s just that much of a fucking idiot, wasn’t he? when he left for the paddock early that morning, he glanced at his phone one last time. one missed call, and it was from you last night. and then suddenly, his heart was warm, and there was a smile on his face.

all this told him was that there was a chance. you called him. you called him whether or not you were shitfaced. blackout drunk. in your vulnerable moments you thought of him. reached out for him. fuck, he was in love with you.

in love

he paused when he shut the door behind him, frozen in place. what? is that what this was? love?

anxiety churned in his stomach. this feeling had been there for a while. a long time. and only now he was just realizing it. shit.

he fiddled with his phone in his hands. thumb hovering over your contact card, he let it fall.

it rang twice before he heard the line connect.

“yeah?” you said, demure and quiet. he knew you were exhausted. he’s heard this tone before. the tone you had when you were viciously hungover. it had him chuckling. “what?”

“good morning to you, too.” the words rolled easy from him. he suddenly felt calmer with you on the other end, but it didn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in the pit of his stomach.

“good morning.” you said, like you were shocked that he was calling you to say good morning.

“fun night?” he asked, stepping into the elevator and hitting the ‘lobby’ button. a few members of his team were already waiting for him.

but you had froze up in the car ride to the paddock. what? how could he know? did he know that you were with raphael? you cleared your throat. “what– what do you mean?”

“you called me.”

shit.

if you weren’t fucked already, you were royally now. your hand dragged over your forehead as your head swarmed with anxious thoughts, completely forgetting about calling him and then…touching yourself in the shower to the thought of him. yikes! what a little freak you were. but lando would enjoy it.

“i–” you stuttered, voice caught in your throat. “i’m sorry…i was just…”

your voice trailed and you could hear his childish laugh from the other end. “no, no. it was cute.” you heard the elevator ding from his end, but it hard to focus on when there was a deep blush flustering your cheeks.

“i didn’t mean to bother you,” you quickly said, finding the need to apologize over and over again for disrupting his night. it was embarrassing enough as is that you had the worst sex of your life, but you called the one man that didn’t want you for consolidation. what a conundrum that was, wasn’t it?

“you didn’t.” his words were firm this time, no traces of playfulness. you perked up at this, finding yourself laughing.

“must’ve said something dumb, didn’t i?”

there was a pause.

“yeah. yeah. something dumb.”

there was another beat of silence. you shifted in the uber, the pass around your neck.

“i’ll see you there?”

you heard him suck in a tight breath, then release it.

“yeah. yeah, ‘course you will.”

you smiled. he could feel it.

“okay. bye, then.”

he said your name softly on the other end with a salutation, and the line went flat. you slammed your back against the leather seats of the car, hands rolling over your face. you rubbed your eyes, wondering if you were still dreaming.

it wasn’t fair that he could make you this way. that he had you in tears just a few nights before, and now your fingers shook with excitement. fuck him. fuck him for making you feel this way, and yet, there was no trace of annoyance on your face.

just a bright smile.

your name was called when you swiped into the paddock. it had you whipping your head up to see who it could be, but you already knew that it was alexandra. she wasn’t trailed by anyone else, thank god, and she flung her arms around you for a hug.

you sang a soft greeting towards her, and she looked up at you expectantly. you raised a brow.

“so…!?”

you narrowed your eyes.

“your night with…!” her voice dropped to a whisper. “raphael.”

you shushed her, looking around, before you held one of her hands in yours. “you want the truth?” her facial expression dropped, but she nodded anyways.

“awful.”

she groaned, head rolling back in disappointment. “i told rebecca it wasn’t a good idea.”

“the sex was…horrible. just…i mean, what the fuck?” alexandra burst out into a laugh as the both of you joined side by side towards the ferrari hospitality. you dreaded going, given the unanswered texts for him, you didn’t want to be confronted with…anything.

“most importantly…” alexandra stopped the two of you before you entered. “are you over him?”

him. the inevitable.

you swallowed.

and nodded your head.

alexandra was only slightly pleased and gave you a reassuring smile. boy, this would be a long day.

before the race started you were wandering around the pitlane with your miniature crew of ferrari girlfriends and their friends. raphael had found you, eagerly, with a prideful smile on his face. out of kindness, you returned the gesture, and let him linger around you for the day.

ferrari’s pit was next to mclaren’s. you couldn’t help but stare.

lando was there. in his papaya race suit. he was speaking to his engineers, and never glanced your way. look at me, you wanted to shout. please, your mind begged. but you stayed firm at raphael’s side.

he dared to stretch out his hand to let it loiter on your waist, but you shimmied out of the contact with an awkward smile. he noticed, but didn’t say anything.

lando did too.

but not what you wanted him to see. he saw you with raphael’s arm around your waist. you were smiling, laughing, in their presence. whereas he couldn’t even bear a night out without the cumbersome thoughts of you constricting his mind. he thought of nothing but you. and here you were, haphazardly dangling this spanish prick in front of his face. fucker.

you turned to look at lando again, free of raphael’s touch. he was staring.

your heart beat faster, eyes widened. your palms were sweating– why were they sweating? he looked pissed, frustrated, but you didn’t know why. your brows upturned with a soft expression that he yearned for, and his envy flushed away.

it was that easy. your gentle features. the concern ridden in your face.

you even gave him a small wave, twiddling your fingers. he was bashful in response, and returned it with a small twist of his own fingers.

but his eyes carried down. towards your chest. you blinked, realizing that part of your dress had slipped further. there was an obvious bruise making an appearance, and you felt guilty. guilty as if you had cheated on him, but you were never in a relationship to begin with.

you saw his jaw tightened and his hands flex before he turned, leaving you speechless.

and then you were dragged away, just like that, into the viewing panel for the race. they were about to start their formation lap, yet you could barely focus with your racing heart.

it past with ease. raphael tried to get closer to you, but you found excuses to stay huddled at alexandra’s side. she noticed, and even wrapped her own arm around your waist. the two of you were a picturesque vision of divine femininity. you felt untouchable at her side, incomparable to any girlfriend you’ve ever had.

lando was fighting hard. he was aggressive on the straits, pushing past the limits of his drs. your hand traced over your chin as you watched the tv intensely, frightened when you saw him make contact with one of the mercedes drivers.

“what is he doing…” you muttered under your breath. your nailbeds were being hacked on by your teeth, chewing them down to the stump. parts of your thumbs streamed with blood.

little to your knowledge, your reaction had been broadcasted. alexandra’s face unfurled with a cheeky look, realizing that she had been played by your deception from earlier. you were not over him. in fact, you were entirely worse than before. your concern was ebbed through the power of media, and that wouldn’t be forgotten.

“are you okay?” came raphael’s voice. you didn’t even look at him.

“fine.”

he took your cold tone in earnest, realizing that there was something more at stake here.

you couldn’t be more grateful when lando passed the checkered flag. your hand found the column of your throat, finding comfort. you let your face be consumed by a smile, one similar to raphael’s when he thought he made you came. stupid man, you thought, glancing towards the spaniard. you had a new priority now.

you had to prove that you wanted lando. but how? everything felt like it was becoming too complicated. your fates were intertwined via an invisible string.

and you didn’t even go to his podium.

he looked for you, sweat dripping down his forehead, but didn’t see you. it had him grow weary, agitated. he raced this hard so he could prove himself to you. prove that he was better than some lowlife.

but he fears he lost you.

the hickey’s on your neck spoke volumes. you fucked him. fucked that stranger. his fists curled around the trophy, break-necking the medal display.

did you come?

no. stop that. it’s none of his business to ask–

she didn’t. you couldn’t.

the pieces began to fall in place in his head. the phone call. you called him…when you needed him most.

it suddenly made holding this trophy all the more worthwhile, and he even donned a smile on his face when he raised it high above his head. this, he thought, was victory.

the night came as swiftly as the day went. you were getting ready to go out, alexandra reminding you to schedule your uber. you did. the dress you wore this evening was short. one of your favorite colors, and had a high neckline. for obvious reasons. you were entirely mortified that raphael felt the primal need to mark you like some bitch. it had your stomach twisting with anger, fingers pulsing with a punch.

but your violent urges stayed dormant when you met up with alexandra, charles, rebecca, carlos, and…raphael. jeez, what a lot you’ve surrounded yourself with. raphael was at your side in an instant when you climbed out of the uber, refusing to give you a morsel of space. it had your lip curling, grimacing down the vomit that curdled in your throat.

you barely spoke a word to him tonight. there was nothing more to say to him. if you were to say anything, it would be a rotten lie.

alexandra tugged you along through the doors, charles at her flank, which you gladly let her do. anything to get away from raphael would be best for you, given how much you didn’t want to confront him. it was just for the weekend, right? no strings attached.

no strings attached, echoed through your mind. flashes of lando’s hands on your hips, the phantom embrace that tensed around your flesh, seeped into your head. your heart plummeted against your will, looking around futilely for his bright smile amongst the sea of oncomers.

it didn’t take you long.

but you wish that it did.

he had his arm slung around some girl, hat backwards, first few buttons undone on his white dress shirt. hands clamming up, you tightened them together over your front, letting your eyes gawk at such a beautiful pairing. it was a different girl than the one you had rudely met in monaco.

another one of his girls.

your mind begged you to let it go. but your heart chained itself to lando, refusing to let go this…infatuation that had you sick to your stomach. what did she have that you didn’t? was she nonchalant? was she a cool girl?

your staring lasted too long. lando saw you. he felt your eyes– your heated stare, beckoning his attention. he answered your call, glancing directly at you. but he did not wave.

neither did you.

the urge thwarted you to look anywhere else but him, tugged your attention elsewhere, but you stayed firm on his freckled face, sharp cheekbones, his daunting stare. you felt the beat of his heart from across the room, the bass boosted rap, his irritability when raphael came to rest a hand on your hip. but you did not turn away from this fight. your arsenal was loaded, and so was his.

lando glanced at raphael, first to break eye contact, and swug the rest of his cocktail in hand. he let the glass slide across the counter of the bar before tugging the girl at his side to his front, the pair of them dancing with one another.

fine, if he wants to play, then you’ll play.

you were handed a cocktail by raphael. you thanked him sincerely before you downed your own in one gulp. raphael gaped at you with a slack jaw. you wiped the loose drops from your jaw, and offered him your hand.

“dance with me?”

raphael didn’t need to be asked twice when he took your hand. you led him deeper into the club, the led lights brightening both your faces. in this light, you supposed that he was irrecoverably handsome. and the thought slipped through your mind that maybe, just maybe, you could’ve had a good life with him. that in some universe that you could get over this feud with a man who doesn’t want you, you’d have a well-earned chance at happiness.

but the thought left just as quickly as it came.

your hips were against his. ass against his crotch, grinding in a rough series of movements. he began growing accustomed to how you moved, and that much you could be thankful for. no longer would the two of you be awkward on the dance floor, fragile hands trembling against your body. he felt more confident, but you could tell there was something brewing behind those big brown eyes of his. but you honestly couldn’t care less, not when you were distracted.

not when your eyes were entranced on a man who treated you like garbage. who cried in your arms, begged for your presence. then, left your hotel room with tears streaming down your face.

his hands were tightly wound around the girls abdomen, cocky expression glazing his face. he spoke to a few of his buddies here, too, amply looking like a douche. one that who knew exactly what he was doing to girls. fuck.

you were just one of his girls.

this enraged you. but it shouldn’t. but it did. there was no excuse for your fray of emotions. they simply existed, and you were going to deal with them. not in a responsible way. no, you were far too gone for that. alcohol warmed your throat, your palms, your chest.

you let your head lean back onto raphael’s shoulder, your mouth coming to his ear. “you can touch me.” you encouraged him. he seemed to lighten at this, becoming bold enough to let his hands trail up your body. he’d indulge in your shape, letting his fingers imprint against the globes of your breasts, the lining of your panties beneath your dress.

a light giggle left you when you let your head rise from his blades, and were met with an aggressive, terrifying, stare from across the room.

your lips puckered.

lando’s head was resting on the girl’s shoulder, his hips swaying with hers, but his eyes were trained on you. you, you, and more you. he was glaring at the man behind you, his gaze so bitter that it soured even your own tongue. it was the miniscule amount of guilt that flustered your head, but you shoved it down.

lando retaliated, beginning to kiss on the girls neck. she leaned against him, a gorgeous smile lighting up the room.

you grumbled, turning your head to meet raphael’s eyes. your eyes pleaded with a language of seduction, one that any man could understand.

raphael took the bait.

his lips trailed down your ear, down the column of your neck. all whilst your back was pressed against his front, you felt the outline of his dick. your palm tightened at the memory of how he attempted to fuck you, but you had to remain composed. you couldn’t fail now.

your lip caught between your teeth for dramatics. like you were holding back a moan.

lando was watching. in fact, he never stopped. he was drunk on the addiction of watching you. watching you grind your hips on that fuckin’ guy, not even wince when his lips were glossing over the sensitive flesh of your neck. could he make you wet with just his mouth?

the british driver could feel his end nearing. if this progressed any further, he’d drag your ass to the bathroom and fuck you like you’d deserve. he didn’t give a fuck. not anymore. not when your lip was bitten by your top row of teeth, an illusive point to how that guy was pleasuring you. he felt fucking sick. though he was starving to the same degree.

his chest was aflame at your teasing touches on your own body. he could see the outline of your panties, the lack of a bra. your nipples were pinching against the fabric that confined them, and he had to stop himself from drooling. you were so fucking sexy.

the girl at his front was growing bored of her lack of attention. he, honestly, didn’t even remember her name. but he’d suffice it with a swirl of his tongue around the skin of her jaw. it was a critical move, since he knew that you’d never let yourself be kissed. you wouldn’t risk such intimacy with a man you’ve only known for a few days–

except you would.

this was war, wasn’t it?

watching lando suck and slurp on that girl’s neck had you desperate to come up with an alternate idea. an approach that would crown you victorious without a second thought. it was cruel, you knew this, but you were out of options. you had something to prove. prove that you were over him. though, you knew that this would end in one of two ways;

him, fucking you.

or, him leaving.

you much preferred the latter.

with enough fury boiling in your bones, you lifted your head to meet raphael’s eyes. with your pointer finger, you let it roll over his chin, connecting with your thumb. you glanced at his lips, your tongue wetting your own, and pulled him to meet you.

raphael said your name into your mouth, nervous to even let his tongue explore yours. you sucked in a tight breath, lip curling to reference a snarl at how much you despised the sensation. it was messy, wet, and you felt instantly disgusted with yourself for even letting him touch your lips. you felt like you jumped too far into a relationship with raphael, even though you were certain that you didn’t want one.

“be my girlfriend,” raphael breathed into your mouth. you hummed a laugh, thinking that he was joking. but he moved to separate you too, staring at you with a brazen thoroughness that you never wished to see again.

“i’m serious. i want–”

“‘scuse me, mate,” you knew that voice. you knew that voice too well. your head spun around to see lando leering dangerously close to raphael’s face, the heat of his body emanating onto your own. he stood only a few inches from you.

you felt his hand ghost over the small of your back, and you suddenly felt desperate to feel it. with your lips raw from that kiss, your fingertip glazed over the flesh, your eyes lost in lando’s tense expression. his jaw was tightened, chest doing it’s best to keep his heated expression under control. however, that control was slipping with every passing moment that you were in raphael’s arms.

raphael turned his attention to lando, suddenly pissed. “need something?”

lando gave him a hoarse chuckle. “yeah. can i borrow your lady for a second?”

raphael made a move to shake his head. “no, we were just—”

“thanks, mate.” lando gripped your back with his fingertips, digging into the skin without mercy. you felt his anger rolling off of him in tense waves, the urge to consolidate him overwhelming. he led you through the crowds of people with an insurmountable force, jaw tightly clenched the entire way. you could practically hear his teeth grinding against one another.

he said nothing until he opened– no, broke the door– to the bathroom. it was a single stall– no one was in there. he allowed you to enter first, stretching out his arm as a much needed signal. you waited a moment, arms crossing over your chest.

his eyes didn’t relent. he would wait here all fucking day before you decided to go in. and you did. he locked the door behind the two of you in an instant.

“what the fuck are you–” you began to scold, back turned to him as you approached the mirror and the sink. you were interrupted when he spun you around, hand place firmly on your hip. the contact had you gasping, glancing down at his hand.

“so, what?” he said, looking down at you through hooded eyes, blown pupils. his heart was electrified, hidden behind his cage of ribs, and one hand flexed as it gripped the edges of the porcelain sink. he hummed, “hm? he your boyfriend now?”you gaped at him. “you’re serious?” you stifled a laugh, unbelieving of his attitude. “what’s it to you, lando? hm?”

his shoulders tensed. “you shouldn’t be with him.”

you rolled your eyes. lando gripped your chin, demanding your attention. “why not, then? ‘m i supposed to be your whore forever?”

his thumb rolled over your bottom lip. “you never were,” he tsked. you were bewildered. brow raising, however difficult to focus when his hand around your hip began to swirl circles on your skin.

“what the fuck are you saying, then, lando? you need to–”

“you let him kiss you.”

you froze.

“never me. why?” his restraint was slipping. his forehead edged closer and closer to yours until you could feel his breath fanning across your face.

“why?” he asked again, his nose brushing against your own. you shook your head ‘no,’ lip beginning to quiver beneath his body. his chest pressed against your own as he got closer. he needed to be closer. “he fuck you better? hm? that it?”

you shuddered when you felt his fingers lower from your hip, trailing circles towards your navel, the slit of your dress that met your upper thigh.

“go on,” he urged, his voice tense from gritting his teeth. “tell me. tell me, and i’ll stop.”

you stayed quiet except for the whimper that left your throat when his fingers curled against your panties, a dampened spot ruining the fabric. there was a deep chuckle against your face, lando’s forehead still against your own. you tightened your lips together, not daring a word to spill.

“tell me, and i’ll let you go party with your new boy.”

“fuck you,” you bit out, seething with your desire, angered with his jealous antics.

“yeah? yeah? you want ‘ta fuck me?” there was no way of hiding his cocky grin. it could be seen from miles away, even when his face was millimeters from yours.

“you’re an asshole,” you heaved, your hips bucking when he began to slide your underwear to the side. your breaths were harsh against his cheeks.

“must like ‘em mean, then,” he cooed, followed by a deep chuckle. “‘cause you’re drippin’ for me.” you felt your slick seep around his fingers as h grazed the puffy lips of your cunt. your head was thrown back against the concrete wall, smacking against the surface. lando was quick to adjust your head, his fingers tugging into your hair.

“fuck,” you sighed, finding his pleasures undeniable. he was so on edge from seeing you kissing raphael, that he was lost in his madness. this pent up lust was bursting from its locked away jar, pouring its fury onto you. “touch me, lando. please–”

with a swift motion he perched you onto the porcelain sink, your head lolling against the mirror, supported by his palm. he tugged you forward so your glossy cunt stained the front of his black pants. the wet spot was pertinent, your face flushing with embarrassment. you were supposed to hate this. why did you love it?

“‘am touchin’ you, baby.” his middle finger teased you, blessing you with a split moment of euphoria of grazing your clit. you moaned, eyes fluttering shut. “look at me,” his hand tightened in your hair. your eyes flashed open, face to face with his crooked, loving smile. “look at me when i make you cum.”

you nodded, whimpering rapidly. he grinned harder at your desperate, pleading tone. though you spoke no words, he could tell just how badly you needed him.

“inside,” your begging didn’t cease, especially when he was still refusing to slide a finger inside of you. “please, please—”

your words were cut off when his middle finger curled sweetly inside of you, eliciting the sweetest pleasure you have felt in weeks. the moan you delivered was guttural, deep, and most of all, primal. lando’s dick pulsated in his pants, his fingers twitching at your lewd voice.

a hand reached out to grip onto his bicep, your head falling into the crook of his neck. you felt undeniably at ease in his hold, despite the hurt that he’s caused you.

his finger began to slide in and out of you, scissoring you to high hell and back, and you were putty in his hands. moments like these is what he favored most with you, but he would take anything to be in your presence. he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt when he swooped you up from that asshole’s arms, leaving him shocked and disrespected. lando was keen enough to twist his head over his shoulder when he led you away, watching as raphael’s face contorted with disappointment. it had his jaw tensing, resisting the urge to smirk.

“come on, baby,” lando’s voice cut through your high, your naval tightening with a hot pressure. “know you’re close. can feel it.”

he added a second finger, using his thumb to roll over your sensitive bundle of nerves. the stimulation was overwhelming, your throat raw with the carnal moans he drew from your depths. he’d be the only one to hear any of these ever again. he promised himself that much.

your orgasm was imminent, the coil in your belly snapping with a hopeless yearning you’ve been deprived of for what feels like an eternity. slick covered the palm of his hand, and your eyes had locked onto his. he watched as you trembled with desire, legs twitched around his waist. with one quick move he brought his two fingers to your lips.

you knew what he wanted.

you’ve never tasted yourself before. but your lips parted, and he lathered your slick over your tongue. you sucked in earnest over his calloused digits, lips puckering, cheeks hollowing. you swallowed, letting your tongue linger over his fingertips.

“now you know,” he whispered, clutching you tight. “why i can’t stay away.” for a brief moment, you thought he was mentioning because of the taste of your cunt. but with the deep look in his eyes, you knew it meant more. you were made for him. both in spirit and sensuality.

lando spun you around from your seat atop the sink, having you flipped, staring at your reflection in the mirror. you look disheveled, and downright fucked. your feet met the ground, the palm of his hand spreading over the expanse of your back, flattening you to a ninety degree angle.

“lift your hips for me, love,” you obeyed without second thoughts, rising to your tip toes as he ran his fingers along the underside of your thighs, pulling down the fabric of your panties. they hit the floor, and your cunt went rigid with the cold air. but you heard lando making fast work with his belt, his jeans, and you sifted back and forth. you even turned to look at him over your shoulder, lashes batting unintentionally at the spring of his cock against his lower belly.

“missed this,” he breathed, saddling his hand at the base of your neck. you pushed into his hold, deepening the connection.

your exhaustion didn’t impede your ability to get fucked. that was for sure. lando wasn’t going to spare a single effort on your behalf. he was riled, pent up, and now he wanted to see tears in your eyes as you were split open on his cock. it was a promise.

“missed you.” you mumbled. lando’s hand tightened around the frontal base of your throat.

“what was that?”

you whimpered. “missed you!”

“atta girl.” he was pleased with your higher volume, and awarded you by edging the tip of his cock through your folds. you lurched forward, gripping onto the dish of the sink. a deep groan left you, and he gave you a grace period to adjust. but it took too long. you wanted him deep. bottomed out. until there was nothing else for you to give.

“show me,” you grit your teeth. “show me he’s not good enough.”

your words seemed to ignite a flame inside of lando that couldn’t be ignored. you felt him huff air, the sensation tickling your spine, and he thrust himself inside of you. forget a grace period, you were going straight to heaven.

you moaned, his cock stimulating a perverse area inside your cunt that no man could ever reach. lando was out for blood to prove that he was the only man that could truly fuck you. and fuck you he would.

the sound of skin slapping echoed through the bathroom. your moans intertwined with his mewls, creating an atmosphere derived from both of your pleasures alone. nothing would ever compare to this feeling. how he curved deliciously inside of you, how you tightened so mercilessly around his cock. he’d let himself run dry so he could feel your tight walls each night.

the pressure of his hand around your throat didn’t relent. with his index and thumb squeezing at every point he bottomed out, you swore you were seeing stars. you were an irrecoverable mess in lando’s arms, and that’s just the way he wanted you. in the reflection of the mirror stared the fading marks that fucker left on your skin. but he was determined to make his own. and it was different that you’d let him. without a doubt, he could bite through your skin, make you bleed for all you fucking cared.

“who’s fucking you this good?” lando asked, hand tightening briefly for your response. you were lost in your haze, unable to truly focus on his words. your brows furrowed.

“you,” you said, breathless, clenching onto the sink with all your prospective might.

“who?” he prodded further, opposite hand coming to rub at your clit. you seethed, breath tightening in your throat. tears burned at your retinas, the skillful work of his fingers bringing you to an oncoming orgasm. lando felt it, and paused his fingers.

you whimpered, then looked at him in the mirror. he loomed like no man you’ve ever seen. darkened eyes, sweaty hair. fuck, he’s so hot. “you!”

his fingers returned their assault on your clit, and you could feel the burning heat once more. you grinded hopelessly against the palm of his hand, which he responded as to pinching the bundle of nerves atop your cunt to with more pressure.

it didn’t take long before you were keeling over the sink, his hand around your neck forcing you to arch before him. with your unbearably tight cunt, he came with you, filling you with hot ropes of cum. the feeling of him warm, vested in your walls brought you a comfort like nothing else.

lando’s head fell forward with his heaving chest onto the base of your neck. his heart was beating so fast, you could feel it. you lifted yourself from the downward angle of the sink, his hands coming to steady you despite his exhaustion.

“i lied to you before,” he spoke into the skin of your neck. too fucked out to really process what he was saying, you turned slightly to catch one of his eyes. “you aren’t a favorite.”

you frowned, still confused, heart feeling ripped open once more.

“you’re the only girl.”

you turned fully this time to face him.

“what?”

“you heard me.” you did. that was true. but what you didn’t believe was true, was his words.

“don’t…” you begged. “don’t play with me anymore, lan…” the nickname rolled off your tongue with ease. “i can’t…i can’t wait for someone who doesn’t…” love, “want me the same.”

lando brushed a stray hair from your forehead. he let himself lean into you. your bodies fit together perfectly.

“what do you want, then?”

your voice was caught in your throat. there was a million things you wanted, but there was only one thing you needed.

“i need you.”

need cut through his body like wild flower to barley. need was the mending his heart needed. need was the remedy of his uncertainties about you.

his face upturned into a smile.

“i can’t do this,” he said, taking a breath. “any of this, without you. need you here, with me,” with his forehead touching yours, you could feel his lashes against your browline.

“lando…”

he shook his head. your name was soft on his tongue. “please, please, stay with me. i should’ve never left that hotel room. never.”

your cheeks were wet. but they weren’t from your tears. his. his lip was quivering when you opened your eyes, his own shut as if he were too afraid to face you.

and instead of answering him with words, you tilted your head up, and let your lips collide with his. torn into shock, lando’s eyes flew open, unbelieving of what was happening. you were kissing him. your lips on his, intimate. you wanted to be intimate with him, not just fuck him.

his eyes fluttered shut, and his hand came to wrap around the back of your neck. he returned your kiss, tongue eager to explore the cavern of your mouth, and you let him. you had been afraid to let him kiss you, fearful that you would become addicted to this pleasure.

you were right in your fear. there was never a universe where you wouldn’t be drunk on his tongue, craving his teeth clashing with your own. it was an ensued battle with your mouths, one you weren’t going to relent easily. but he remained victorious and let his tongue run over yours. the two of you were inseparable, body and spirit.

there was finally a blasted knock on the bathroom door, which had you jumping. lando turned his head over his shoulder, and was quick to drop to his knees to roll your panties back up.

“like you down there,” you commented from him on his knees. he turned to look at you with a knowing smirk, and kissed the skin of your thighs. when he stood at his full height, he adjusted his own pants, looking presentable enough.

“beautiful.” he complimented, leaning in for a plethora of kisses. he kissed all around your mouth, your nose, your jaw, before he landed on your mouth.

“i love you,” he blurted out against your lips. you gaped at him and he was worried you wouldn’t feel the same. but the two of you knew this answer for a long, long time.

your brows upturned. “i love you too.”

his hand fell on your lower back, guiding you out of the bathroom. “guess you’re my girl now, yeah?”

you slapped his bicep. “we have a lot to talk about, but for tonight…” you nodded.

he was happy enough with that answer.

“gotta let raphael down easy…” you mumbled as lando held the door open for you.

“oh…!” he said in an exaggerated tone. “that’s what his name is.”

taglist

@sofs16 @strengthandstay @mybluesoul1 @f1fantasys @cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch

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babyleostuff · 10 months ago

Text

when you call them your husband | ot13

❥ seungcheol

goes through five stages of a mental breakdown, because what did you just call him??? if you ever called him your husband in front of people, cheol would turn into a stuttering mess with cheeks as red as a tomato. if you did it when you were by yourselves he’d start whining like a bitch, getting shy as hell, because why are you messing with his heart like that? on rare days, though, he’d embrace the husband figure and start calling you “wife” and make you shy

❥ jeonghan

so smug - no one would be able to wipe that studpid ass smirk off of his face. it does mess with him a bit, though, because come on - calling him your husband??? but he’d try his best to act unaffected, because it’s jeonghan, and he needs to be cool :))) (i’m going to repeat this so many times throughout this headcanon, but all of them would start to freak out a bit thinking about a day when this won’t be a joke anymore, hannie included)

❥ joshua

is he really surprised when you call him your husband? not really. he knows he’s a husband material, and you often make jokes about him being your husband anyways. that doesn’t mean he isn’t freaking about it on the inside, though, because no matter how many times you call him that as a silly little joke, it still makes him so incredibly happy that one day, he’ll really be your husband, and you won’t be calling him that as a joke anymore

❥ jun

one of the “turns into a shy, blushy, and a stuttering mess” squad. he’d malfunction at first, point at himself, and melt into a puddle of fluff, and love. one - how dare you call him your literal husband as a joke??? second - give him all the kisses, and hugs, because his first instincts is to run away, and break out in tears from all the love. he doesn’t really know what to do with himself after you say that word, but you can be sure it’ll be in his head for the rest of the day

❥ hoshi

soonyoung would be confused for a second, because “wait, are you talking about me?” and when he’d finally understand that, yes - you were talking about him (because who else would you be talking about), he’d get so smiley and giggly and shy, and just turn into the cutest bean. he’d immediately cling to you, wrapping his arms around you and trapping you in a warm hug, giggling like a maniac

❥ wonwoo

cue shy wonwoo with his lil cat smile. he can’t help the butterflies fluttering in his tummy, and as much as he’d want to tease you for calling him your husband, he’d be too shy to actually do it. you calling him that would make him so happy for some reason, even though he knows that you mainly do it as a prank or a joke to mess with him. don’t do it in front of people, though, or he’ll run away

❥ woozi

“anything for you, baby.” woozi always indulges in all of your silly antics and jokes, and this time it’d be no different. he’d try to act as unaffected as he could, but his acting skills are not always the best, so you’d still be able to catch a glimpse of a small smile and blushy cheeks. he isn't the type to think about marriage, kids, and your domestic future together, he prefers to focus on what you have now, but hearing that word coming from you, would make his heart flutter a bit faster

❥ dk

“yes, i am.” smiles cutely at you, and gives you a bone crushing hug, while freaking the fuck out on the inside. he won’t comment on it too much in the moment, but the way he’d be extra clingy throughout the day, giving you ten times more kisses, and hugs, and pouts, and any physical affection. the thought of becoming your husband some day is so??? because it will happen someday, and that’s kind of crazy

❥ mingyu

cue mingoo giggles, because that man would not be able to behave himself after hearing the word husband from you. will whine, smile, laugh, hug you, pick you up and spin you around like a lovesick teenager, and when he finally calms down, he’d give you the biggest smooch. even though you had marriage talks plenty of times before - you both knew you’d get married some time in the feature, hearing it from you - saying it so casually, messed with his heart so much

❥ minghao

as someone who has mentioned a couple of times before that he wants to get married, hearing the word “husband” coming from you would make him so so happy and giddy, to the point where he’d just stand there with a lovesick smile on his face, and the urge to hug and kiss the life out of you (he wouldn’t though, he has to keep his composure) (but don’t worry, he’d kiss your forehead and tell you how much he loves you) (all with an adorable blush covering his cheeks)

❥ seungkwan

turns into a shy and blushy mess. seungkwan’s first instinct is to hide his face in his hands or your neck, so you wouldn’t see the effect that the word had on him (even though you could clearly see how it affected him). then he’d probably proceed to yell at you (lovingly) for making such mean jokes (he wants to be your husband now, boyfriend is not enough)

❥ vernon

at first he would think that he had misheard you, so you’d have to repeat the word two or three more times, because why would you ever call him your husband? and when you’d clarify that, yes - you did say the word “husband”, and yes - it was directed to him, vernon would just stare at you with big eyes but no thoughts. you’d laugh at him immediately, because the lack of his reaction was even funnier than if he’d react. then he’d say “thank you” and proceed with the rest of his day with the word “husband” floating around his head

❥ chan

leechan.exe has stopped working. looks at you with the biggest puppy eyes, pointing at himself, as if he was asking if you were really talking about him. it’s so crazy to him that you’d call him that even as a joke, because hearing the word “husband” coming from you is??? hello??? and the fact that someday he’ll really be your husband??? you can expect chan to be a bit more clingy than he usually is (a bit more pouty too, because what do you mean you called him that as a joke?)

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau

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allpiesforourown · 3 months ago

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I have such intense feelings for your bingyuan roommate au, it’s unreal. Binghe would be the BIGGEST green tea bitch/pick me girl but only towards sy, no one else. encountering lbh in the wild first and then experiencing him next to sy would be a fever dream of epic proportions. actual dozens of women would want to behead him and rip out his guts. bc lbh would ditch them on their birthday, an actual medical emergency, or anything critical at all just bc sy vaguely implied he was hungry (lbh now HAS to cook for him, it is not a want, it is a NEED)

And sy would be worse then evvvver, lol. “That’s my little didi binghe, he’s so sweet and sensitive, girls are always breaking his heart :((( If I were his girlfriend I’d get married to him next week and bounce on him silly style. Too bad no one will ever appreciate binghe like I do :(((((” and it is only after MANY of those thoughts that he realizes that he might not feel all that brotherly towards lbh

on a hornier note, I’m at a toss up between thinking that lbh would bring his hookups/girlfriends back to his and sy’s home and fucking them there (bc in lbh’s mind he can’t cum right without the reminder of his gege… and what if gege walked in 🤤… maybe lbh can get him to join…) or him absolutely refusing to let any of them so much as glance at his gege (no one should look at sy except him)

EXACTLY EXACTLY EXACTLY you get it anon.

It's literally like

Woman: let's have a threesome with your friend

Binghe: the idea sounds so appealing but I don't want some stranger getting his hands on him! I don't want to share him with someone who doesn't show him the love he needs. I'm the only one who knows him well enough to be in a threesome with shen yuan

Woman: thats sex. You're just describing regular two people sex. You want to fuck your best friend.

In my head for this au I imagine them as long time friends.. shen yuan found binghe getting bullied at a park or something when they were kids and told his bullies to fuck off. Then he listened to binghe cry about how he's so worried about his sick mom being overworked and begged his parents to hire binghes mom. With way better pay, hours, and work environment, her health improved a lot and she's good friends with shen yuans parents.

Binghe tells himself he acts like shen yuans guard dog because he'll always be grateful for what he's done for his family, but really, he fell in love with his Yuan ge at first sight the second he saw a boy standing up for him instead of ignoring his bullying.

Someone: say something nice about your best friend

Binghe: oh I have so much to say! He's so sweet and intelligent and adorably nerdy ! He saved me and my mom and-

Someone: say something nice about your girlfriend

Binghe: um..... uh ...... well.... sometimes she... hmm......

The poor women he dates. They'd go through SO much suffering trying to "fix" him and then when they finally give up after going through hell itself, they see bingge and shen yuan get together and suddenly the most negligent terrible boyfriend in the world is buying flowers and posting corny pictures on Instagram and proposing a few months into the relationship.

Shen yuan: I can't believe I managed to bag someone as handsome beautiful and loving as binghe. He wakes up at 6am every morning to get started on breakfast so he can feed me in bed. He's so attentive I worry I'm taking advantage of him. How did he get broken up with so often? No one appreciates people like binghe

Everyone else binghe has ever dated: I told him I got stabbed and he left me on read

#what should i tag this au as #asshole roommate bingge au #svsss #shen yuan #luo bingge #binggeyuan

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deadghosy · 6 months ago

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☆BEING MATTHEO’S CHILDHOOD FRIEND TO LOVER☆ male version||female version

Can I just say he’s immediately the type of guy of a childhood friend to just be close to the point he would just walk in on you showering, bathing, or even pissing without even caring?

He’s literally walking in to tell you some guy he doesn’t like when he sees that you are glaring at him while sitting down pissing.

“Get the fuck out!” You yell ready to throw a toothbrush at him. Mattheo groaned as he grabbed your wrists. You look up at him as he frowns a bit at you already dismissing him. “Dude listen! Y’know that arse that keeps making fun of you?” You start to realize mattheo’s bruised knuckles. His knuckles looked spilt as you look up from the hands that clasp your wrists. That’s where you see that devilish smile of his on his face. “He’s not gonna bother you no more baby…”

One time you took a shower and covered yourself up quickly only for mattheo to say in quote, “I’ve seen your dick before when we were kids. Calm down.” As he brushes his teeth in the morning with you. It can be exhausting.

Bromance ass cuddles when he wants them. Draco could try to tease the riddle about how “gay” he is for you. And mattheo would be like “hell yeah!” Cause mattheo don’t give no fucks. You’re his friend. His friend that he only cares about fully.

When he’s drunk, he’s crying and whining about where his best friend is at. He literally dragged a dude’s shirt, threatening him if he doesn’t say where the last time you were at the party, he’s gonna chop his dick off. Mattheo soon found you and acted calm asf. Just silently drinking with his arm around your shoulder

He’s the type to immediately text you “I see you online bitch.” When you swore to him that you were gonna go to sleep. Please he’s gonna go into your dorm room and force you to sleep.

Brings up embarrassing moments you two had, mostly your moments when taking to people. It’s just for fun!!

Protective of you, doesn’t matter if you’re older or younger. This fucker is literally 10 toes behind you in every step. Doesn’t matter if you were the cause or not. He’s backing you up real quick.

One time punched a drunk guy for trying to get close to you. He seen you from afar away with a girl dancing on him, when all he seen was you getting a drunk asshole all up on you.

You moved away a little from this guy who smelt like straight alcohol. It dosed your nose terribly as you tried to get away only for him to get closer. As he got closer, mattheo pushed the girl off him and strutted towards you. His bawling up fists and sharp breathing was clear as people in the party made way. As you turn to see your dear friend. Mattheo socked the guy’s chin. The angered and protective Slytherin was going to beat his face in, until you dragged Mattheo away. “Calm down!” You hissed at Mattheo who only breathed heavy. He was spacing out in rage. His nose scrunched up as he took heavy breaths. He seemed to snap out when you told him to calm down. “I can’t calm down when he got too close to you!” Mattheo then cupped your face, pressing both of your heads together. Your lips were pressed into a thin line as Mattheo’s eyes were still blazing with anger.

It took a while, with some cuddling from you and you saying how you felt safe. Mattheo having his arms wrapped around you, your neck being occupied by his face and head. It’s something that people would assume you two were dating. You both would deny before you two actually started dating at the end.

Mattheo was still protective of you, Mattheo a little too much but still a good amount.

He always has his hands on you. Literally touching you to make sure you stay by his side at all means.

He loves his boy, you are the most handsomest thing that ever came across his life. And now he gets to cherish you.

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redr0sewrites · 11 months ago

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Hazbin Hotel Characters with a Goth S/o

this is basically how some of ththe hazbin characters would support their goth s/o- as a goth person this is literally so self-indulgent lmao

🥀Pairing(s): lucifer x reader, velvette x reader, adam x reader, alastor x reader

🥀 Cw: fluff!

Lucifer

lucifer is a little confused and intimidated about your style at first, he definitely asks a lot of questions

VERY supportive once u explain it, hes very much the "okay dear" type

honestly i think he would find it super attractive, the way u express yourself is just so admirable to him

i feel like lucifer is very fidgety and is always losing focus, and one tjing that i do is that im ALWAYS fidgeting with thr chains and accessories on my outfits so like imagine him just standing super close to you and gently rearranging your chains and necklaces for you...

he would let you teach him how to do makeup and eyeliner and would definitely let you practice styles on him!

lucifer would also help you get ready too, always willing to offer some positive feedback or help with makeup and hair

i also think lucifer adores it when you give him music recommendations, and would get super into a lot of the bands that you like

i personally hc him as a siouxsie and the banshees fan bc i just feel like the elegant vibes fit him very well, but i also think he'd like strawberry switchblade too and just goth stuff like that

overall very supportive and super sweet and silly when it comes to your fashion

Velvette

gosh she needs more love

you both are fashion ICONS okay like even before you both become official she is blown away by your style and authenticity

she def designs special fashion items just for you, she makes a whole line of clothes based off of u and ur aesthetic

velvette LOVES matching with you and loves incorporating both of your individual styles into your matching outfits, whether youre more mallgoth or romantic goth or trad goth or anything in between, she is totally inspired by you and your fits and will always want to inspire you in return

def buys you things she seed and thinks you'd like or look good in, regardless of price. her gifts range from thrifted maxi dresses abd fishnets to priceless jewelry and makeup LIKEEEEE omg

velvette LOVES when u wear something she bought for u or designed for u as well

yall are always late for social events bc u HAVE to be the best dressed couple there i swear

also if u wear chunky boots or platforms and ur taller than her???? expect her to pull you down for kisses bc URGH seeing you sm taller than her does something to her

guys i have a type help

Adam

adam thinks your hot af if you're goth

hes the type to make big tiddy goth gf jokes im sorry💀

in all seriousness tho he would LOVE a goth s/o

adam def likes alternative/rock music and he would think it's awesome if you introduced him to some goth bands

he would LOVE the scary bitches, death grips, and also sisters of mercy too

i def think goth people would be much more rare in heaven than in hell, and he would get SO defensive on your behalf if anyone said anything about you or your fashion

honestly hes your number one fan and LOVES giving his input on your fits

honestly your closet doubles when you date him, adam loves seeing you wear his rings and punk jewelry and i def think he has a lot of old band shirts and stuff for his band, so he would love seeing you wear his oversized shirts

if u have piercings WOOWHEE bc adam asks SO MANY QUESTIONS

he thinks theyre so hot ngl, and i def think he has a few piercings and will buy u both matching jewelry

adam would learn to play songs you like on the guitar for you as well

i dont think hed be super keen on letting you put makeup on him but he'd fold after a little persuasion

i honestly think he'd like eyeliner and how he looks wearing it but doesn't want to admit it bc he doesn't want to seem too feminine (but u know ofc)

Alastor

before even meeting you he was fascinated by your style and boldness

alastor loves people who are unique, and someone who chooses to stand out so much definitely catches his eye

he'd find you very aesthetically appealing and would often find himself wanting to be around you more and learn more about you, your style, and goth culture in general

over this time period is probably when he started to develop feelings for you

alastor would def like the romantic/vampire goth look, that whole genre in general is just very elegant and classy while also nonconformist, which definitely speaks to him

when it comes to music alastor would probably be a little skeptical at first, especially when it comes to new technology, however if you (like me) have a record player and vinyl, i def think he would like listening to some of your fav goth bands on that

i dont really know why but i gen think he'd be a fan of the cure, sure its pretty basic but the vibe of some of the songs can be upbeat and kinda jazzy, and they just have that "old timey" vibe i think alastor would appreciate

alastor is fascinated with the process in which you get ready, and enjoys just sitting and watching in peaceful silence as uou do your makeup and pick out your outfit

if you (like most goths) are into creepy and unusual decor, he would LOVE to help you decorate your room

alastor has the strangest taste in interior design and loves sharing his unhinged ideas with you

overall alastor loves people with a lot of individuality and would definitely find a goth partner appealing because of that !!

THIS IS GETTING SO LONG HELP IM PROB GONNA MAKE A PT2 W MORE CHARACTERS HEHE- THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR ALASTOR AND VELVETTE I HOPE I DID THEM JUSTICE!!! WE NEED MORE LOVE FOR VELVETTE SHES SOOOOO AJSJDJD- anywaysssss hope yall enjoyed!!! feel free to req more, esp if u want a pt2 to this >:D

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buckymorelikefuckme · 2 years ago

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cry baby

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 7.3k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** smut, edging, overstimulation, crying during sex, mentions of flushed cheeks, friends to lovers, misunderstandings, lapslock.

a/n: this is arguably one of my absolute fave fics i've ever written. she is near and dear to my heart :') i've provided the link for ao3 if you prefer to read it there! it's originally posted in two parts but i've combined them here. any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡

“the boys are running late,” natasha informs you when you make your way to the table she’s conquered in the busy cafe. “sam texted a couple minutes ago and said he and bucky got stuck in traffic.”

it’s the second tuesday of the month, which means it’s brunch day. it’s a running tradition that’s stood for the four of you since your college days. the time and place has changed over the years, but everyone does their absolute best to attend every time. these tuesdays are your favorite, naturally.

you plop into an empty chair across from her with a heavy sigh. “good, that means i have time to bitch about how fucking horny i am before they get here.”

she snorts, taking a delicate sip of her latte. “what’s new?” she wonders sarcastically.

“you don’t understand,” you begin, leaning into the table, gripping the edge tightly. “it’s been months, and not like, a few, i mean it’s coming up on a year.”

natasha’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “a year? what about that guy you went on a few dates with a while back? didn’t anything happen with him?”

“no,” you grumble, sitting back in your chair and crossing your arms. you huff. “and even if something had happened, i doubt it would have been satisfying. i can probably count on one hand the amount of times sex has been even kinda pleasurable for me.”

“sounds like you’re picking shitty partners.”

you scowl. “i know that, but it’s not my fault. all these stupid men keep promising they’re gonna fuck me ten ways to sunday and not a single one of them can even get me to wednesday.”

natasha laughs. “you poor thing.”

“you’re really not helping me here,” you whine with a pitiful pout on your lips. “you are getting routine dickings, you have sam! i am not so lucky here.” you notice her attention flicks to somewhere behind you, but you’re not finished with your rant. “nat, i’m serious. all of my sex encounters are the equivalent of asking someone to scratch my back and then they scratch literally anywhere but the spot that itches. i want to be fucked so good that i cry, just—completely reduced to tears. is that too much to ask?”

nat is hiding her smile behind her hand, amusement painted across her sharp features. someone clears their throat behind you and you pinch the bridge of your nose. sam and bucky occupy the empty seats, sam next to natasha and bucky next to you. they’re both sporting wide grins, looking far too pleased about stumbling into this conversation.

sam opens his mouth, no doubt to make a smartass comment, but you cut him off before he can get a good inhale in.

“not a fucking word,” you grouse with a finger pointed in his direction.

he presses a hand to his chest, expression offended. “i would never make a joke about your truly tragic excuse of a sex life.”

bucky snickers quietly, but turns into a cough at your glare.

“i’ll murder you,” you promise.

“leave her alone, boys,” natasha says, rolling her eyes, though she’s visibly biting back her own laughter.

you huff, digging your wallet out of your purse. “i hate all of you,” you announce before getting up and going to stand in line to order.

bucky follows a moment later, coming to stand at your side and throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“that bad, huh?” he asks.

you don’t have to look at his face to know he’s probably smirking right now.

“fuck off,” you retort, not bothering to push his arm away since you know he’d only put it right back.

“aw, come on, don’t be like that,” he jests, “you know we just like to poke a little fun.”

you roll your eyes, throwing him an exasperated look. “yeah, but that was something only nat was supposed to hear. i hate talking about sex with you and sam because you two wouldn’t understand.”

“that’s not true,” bucky insists, which makes you roll your eyes again. “it’s not!”

“first of all, sam’s got natasha, so we both know they’re more than satisfied.” bucky tilts his head in acquiescence. “and you don’t have to worry about if you’re gonna have an orgasm when you hook up with somebody. men have it so easy.”

it’s probably not the best thing to talk about in line of a busy cafe (especially since you haven’t decided between a blueberry muffin or the ham and cheese croissant, and there’s only one person ahead of you now and you’d really rather not be discussing your lack of sex in front of an innocent barista) but it sort of feels good to get this off your chest, even if it’s to bucky.

“okay, definitely not true,” he replies with a frown. “i’m not always guaranteed an orgasm.”

you give him a skeptical glance. “i find that hard to believe.”

this time, it’s bucky who rolls his eyes. “whatever, whether or not i come when i have sex with someone isn’t what i was gonna talk about when i came over here.”

the person in front of you finishes their order and then you’re stepping up for your turn.

“hi, what can i get you today?” the young barista asks with a smile.

“a large mocha iced coffee with sweet cream and a blueberry muffin, please.” you pause, contemplating, then add, “and a ham and cheese croissant.”

if you can’t get fucked within an inch of your life then food will become your lover, you reason.

“just a black coffee for me, please,” bucky tells the girl, taking his wallet out of his back pocket and handing over his card to pay before you can stop him.

“i could’ve paid for mine,” you mumble.

“you also could just say thank you,” he replies with a short laugh as he ushers you to the side to wait for your order.

you pinch his hip, pouting. “thank you.”

“why does your gratitude come with violence?” he asks, rubbing the sore spot.

“you know how i am when people do nice things for me.”

“you should be used to it by now,” he points out.

“well, i’m not,” you huff. “anyway, what did you come over here to talk about then?”

bucky reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, uncharacteristically shy all the sudden. “uh, well. i dunno, i just thought… you know, since you’re not—i mean, not that you couldn’t be, just—you haven’t been, so maybe… fuck.”

“spit it out,” you say with a giggle, wondering what in the world’s got him so tongue-tied.

“why don’t you let me?” he blurts, averting his gaze immediately after.

you tilt your head in confusion. “let you what?”

he sighs heavily, working his jaw in frustration. “you know…” he begins, digging his thumbnail into a knick on the countertop in front of you. “let me fuck you until you cry.”

“what?”

just then, your order is called. bucky quickly grabs it and turns to make his way back to the table, but you grab his arm to stop him.

“i don’t think so, you come back here right now and explain yourself,” you demand.

his eyes lift heavenward. “it’s just an idea, okay?”

“bucky, you’re talking about crossing a huge line. you can’t just throw that out all willy nilly!”

“i know,” he replies earnestly. “and it’s not—“ he grimaces at the phrasing, “willy nilly. you’re one of my best friends. i wouldn’t jeopardize that for anything, and i wouldn’t offer this if i thought that it could. this is something that’s obviously affecting you negatively in your life and i’m willing to help. i trust you, and i’m pretty sure you trust me, yeah?”

“of course i trust you,” you say, frowning.

he shrugs. “so, then it’s just… a friend helping another friend.”

“you make it sound so simple,” you muse in wonder.

“think about it?” he implores.

you swallow roughly, biting the inside of your cheek. “fine. i’ll think about it.”

he nods and walks back over to the table where sam and natasha are waiting. you hesitate for only a split second before following.

needless to say, you’re distracted for the rest of brunch.

***

you: what even makes you think you could fuck me until i cry anyway?

it’s been nearly a week, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re actually considering taking bucky’s offer. it’s all you can think about since he brought it up. you can’t lie, you’ve always thought bucky was attractive, but ever since you were gently but firmly placed in the friend category back in university, you never allowed yourself to think of there ever being more between the two of you. he’s a wonderful friend to have and you’d have been an idiot to pass it up. bucky is kind and generous and just enough of an asshole to keep things interesting without it being a problem.

but this… this has left you reeling. why would he make such an offer after only ever keeping things strictly friendly and platonic in your relationship? and more importantly, where does he get the confidence to think he could follow through?

bucky: experience?

you make a face at your phone, furiously typing your reply.

you: ew. do you realize how douchey that sounds?

bucky: well, it’s not douchey if it’s true.

you: says you

bucky: and a few other people :)

bucky: you’d know it too if you’d let me fuck you

you exhale harshly through your nose, tapping your foot on the floor anxiously, carefully thinking of what you should say next.

you: it’s apparently a tall request, and thus far, nobody’s been able to deliver. you can understand my skepticism…

bucky: if i don’t leave you shivering and twitching with aftershocks of pleasure, in a mess of sweat and come, and tears stained on your cheeks, then i will have failed you.

your thighs squeeze together at the mental image that brings you. jesus christ, if he’s half as good at fucking as he is dirty talking then he just might do as he’s promising.

bucky: so? what do you say? wanna give it a try?

biting your lip, you give yourself a moment to weigh the pros and cons in your mind one last time.

it doesn’t take you very long to make your decision.

you: okay. we’ll try.

***

it’s a slightly overcast sunday when bucky comes over with the direct intention to fuck you. it should be weird, but strangely, all you feel is anticipation. maybe it’s because you know him so well and know that, no matter what, he’d take care of you.

(or, maybe it’s because those repressed college-aged feelings are doing their best to resurface, even though you steadfastly continue to ignore them.)

you’d taken a thorough shower earlier to ease the little bit of nerves you had when you’d woken up. cleaning up the small mess your apartment gathered over the last couple weeks helped, as well, and soon you found yourself standing in front of your lingerie drawer with your lips pursed.

you weren’t sure if you should even bother with it, but it felt you wouldn’t be putting in any effort into this encounter if you didn’t at least pick out nice underwear. so, with a pleased nod, you settle on some simple black lace panties and a matching bralette. not too much, but enough to satisfy yourself, and hopefully bucky. you pick out a simple sundress to put on over it, since you won’t be wearing much of anything once bucky gets here. that thought has you flushing, but you ignore it to put on some makeup, just to freshen up your face.

by the time he knocks on your door, you’ve already finished a glass of wine and are pouring yourself a second.

he smiles when open the door, a bit boyishly, greeting you with a quiet, “hi.”

“hi,” you return, just as soft. you open the door wider. “come in.”

he walks passed you, stopping to toe his shoes off and hang his jacket on one of the hooks.

“do you want a glass of wine?” you ask as you head to the kitchen to retrieve your own from the counter.

bucky follows, stopping in the entryway with his hands in his pockets. “no, thank you.”

you nod, taking a sip from your glass, trying to figure out what to say. the air feels a little awkward and you’re not sure how to fix it.

“nervous?” he wonders curiously.

you shake your head. “not really.”

he quirks a brow. “then what’s wrong?”

“i don’t know,” you murmur. “i guess i’m just worried we’re making a mistake.”

he hums. you take a larger sip of your wine.

with cautious steps, he comes closer to you. “what if i promise that things won’t be weird after?”

“you can’t really promise that, though.”

“sure i can,” he says, smiling. “it’s me and you. we’ve been friends for so long. plenty of people have sex and stay friends after.”

you’re not just ‘people’ to me, you think.

you sigh, frustrated with yourself. you can’t deny how badly you want this. it’s all you’ve been able to think about since that day in the cafe. but the thought of losing bucky is heartbreaking, and you don’t want your stupid horniness to be the reason that you ruin a friendship, even if he was the one to offer sex.

“why don’t we go make out on the couch for a little while first?” he suggests after a moment’s pause.

you snort, in spite of your thoughts. “like a couple of teenagers?”

his eyes crinkle on the sides when he grins. “yeah. we’ll just see how we feel about that, and if it leads to more, then…” he trails off, shrugging.

“that’s not a bad idea,” you concede.

“great! finish your wine.”

you laugh and do as you’re told, downing the little remaining wine in one go, sitting the glass down on the counter resolutely as you swallow.

“let’s do this,” you say, determined.

bucky huffs a laugh, grabbing your wrist and tugging you behind him as he makes his way to the couch. he settles slightly facing you as you tuck your legs under you beside him.

“do you wanna talk, or do you want to jump straight into it?”

“if we talk anymore i’m gonna change my mind. just kiss me already, bucky.”

“yes ma’am,” he sasses before doing exactly that.

he cups your cheek with one hand as the other is placed on your knee. he guides your face to his and kisses you chastely. you’re not sure where to put your hands at first, but you tell yourself to quit being a goober about it and place them on either side of his neck, your thumbs brushing under his jaw.

it’s an okay kiss, you have to admit, but it’s not really doing anything for you yet. he has soft lips, softer than you thought they’d be. you’re beginning to wonder if maybe this confirms you shouldn’t go any further when he tilts his head, and… hm.

he parts his lips, taking your bottom one between his, kissing it, then nipping it. you wouldn’t say the sound you make is a gasp, necessarily, but it’s close. his tongue lightly caresses the seam of your mouth and you don’t even think before you open up for him, letting his tongue sweep in, flicking against yours. you hum, scooting a tiny bit closer to him, chasing the feeling. his kisses turn insistent then, teeth biting at your bottom lip and tugging, soothing the ache with his tongue. he kisses you like a man quenching his thirst, like you’re the best goddamn thing he’s ever tasted, and it’s leaving you dizzy. you sway more into his space and he pulls away from your mouth.

“c’mere,” he whispers, gripping behind one of your knees to drag it over his hips so you’re straddling him. “much better.”

you don’t have a chance to process anything about the moment, his mouth back on yours in a blink. your fingers wind themselves into his hair, getting a good grip on it as you lick into his mouth. he lets out a soft noise at that and you try your damnedest to pry it out of him again, pressing your chest to his so there’s not even a sliver of space left between you.

his hands travel, down the sides of your torso to your thighs, back up to your hips where he holds on tight. it doesn’t take long after that before you find yourself grinding into him. you both moan at the same time, breaking the kiss to pant for breath.

you swallow roughly. “okay,” you murmur, “i think it’s safe to say this could work.��

bucky laughs quietly. “yeah? wanna move to your bed then?”

your squeeze your thighs around him, shifting minutely on his lap and feeling the beginnings of his erection beneath you. “yes,” you breathe.

quickly, you rise from your position and step back, allowing bucky to stand, then grab his hand and lead him to your bedroom. once you’re standing beside your bed, you turn to face him. he meets your halfway, pulling you into another, filthier kiss. you reach for his belt buckle, unfastening it and sliding it through the loops, tossing it to your floor. next are the button and zip of his jeans, shoved down his legs until he steps out of them and kicks them and his socks aside. he obediently lifts his arms when you slide your hands under his shirt and begin pushing it up, breaking the kiss to nearly yank it off, making bucky huff in amusement. once it’s tossed with the rest of his clothes, bucky grabs fistfuls of your dress and pulls you into him.

“my turn,” he says against your lips.

carefully, bucky helps you out of your dress, eyes raking over every bit of new skin shown to him. he bites his lip when he sees your lacy underthings.

“you got all dolled up for me?” he asks.

shifting under his stare, you nod. “wanted to look nice,” you admit.

he hums. “beautiful.”

he kisses you again, a little softer than before, but no less passionate. the urgency returns as he backs you up until your thighs hit the mattress. gently, he guides you onto your back, never breaking the kiss as he follows you down and settles over you.

you soon find yourself in need of air and pull away with a gasp. bucky is undeterred and instead presses his kisses down your jaw, to your neck where he decides to bite and suck until he’s left a mark you’ll have to reprimand him for later. he licks his way up to your ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth, drawing a whine out of you.

“bucky,” you whisper, hands gripping his sides as you squirm below him.

“hm?”

you close your eyes tightly when he makes his way back down to your collarbones.

“please,” you whimper.

“please what, sweetheart?” he asks, pushing himself up to look you in the eye.

“t-touch me,” you beg, cheeks flushing.

his lips quirk into a smile. “i am touching you.”

“bucky,” you whine.

“where do you want me to touch you, hm?” he wonders. one of his hands trails across your shoulder and down the center of your chest. “here? or… here?”

when his fingers glide, barely there, over your pebbled nipples, you push into the touch eagerly.

“or…” he continues, his feather light touch making a path down your stomach. your breath quickens in anticipation. “here?” he murmurs as his fingertips stop on your pantyline.

“yes, there, anywhere,” you agree hastily, “just —please. please, bucky, don’t tease me.”

he kisses you again, deep, full of promise. “you beg so prettily for me.”

he rearranges your positions until he’s between your spread thighs, sweeping his hands across the inside of them. he nods to your panties.

“may i?”

“yes, please,” you reply, lifting your hips to help him take them off.

he doesn’t give you a chance to close your legs in shyness, firmly grasping your knees in each of his hands and spreading them once again. the way he’s looking at you makes you feel unbelievably desirable, has excitement crawling up your spine.

“don’t forget,” you remind him, making his eyes flick up to yours in question, “you better make me cry.”

a slow, dangerous smile graces his lips. your stomach swoops eagerly.

a whine, high pitched and drawn out, escapes your lips. after you unwittingly challenged him, bucky took it upon himself to torture you—with sex. so far, he’s only used his fingers on you, in you, thrusting them steadily but never enough to bring you to climax. he’s taking his time and being a smug prick about it. you go to complain, again, hoping if you beg enough he’ll let you come, but before you can do more than open your mouth he’s quickening his pace.

“oh!” you gasp, clutching the sheets in your hands.

bucky slides his hand down your thigh, bringing his thumb inward to swipe around where his other fingers are buried inside you to gather your wetness and using it to rub circles on your clit. your back arches, head thrown back against your pillows as you feel your orgasm build. it’s not tears, but damn, it feels good enough.

just as you start to clench around his fingers, legs spasming, he stops.

your eyes open in a hurry, brows furrowing in confusion. “no, please, don’t stop,” you plead.

bucky smiles. “i gotta get the right build up.”

you groan in frustration. he laughs quietly and lets the inferno burning within you simmer down to embers, then starts inching his way down until he’s lying on his stomach, mouth poised above your pussy. the feel of his warm breath makes you shiver, and with no warning whatsoever, he leans in and sucks your clit into his mouth.

“fuckin’—oh my— bucky!”

you’re pretty sure you black out for the next several minutes, the only thing you’re aware of is the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears and the feel of bucky’s mouth on you. you’re lost in a mindless haze of pleasure, unable to think or feel anything else. you feel your orgasm cresting for the second time, and just as before, bucky pulls away before you can succumb to it.

“why,” you hiccup on a moan, wanting nothing more than to just come already, but he’s not letting you.

he shushes you, softly kisses your knee. sitting up to take his underwear off, bucky keeps his eyes on you, expression hungry.

“gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he promises. “just a bit more. you’re being so good for me, yeah?”

“please,” you whimper, feeling completely pathetic.

he makes quick work of putting a condom on and then settles between your thighs. you sigh in relief when he wastes no time and pushes in, being careful not to go too fast. once he’s fully inside you, he pauses, wanting to give you time to adjust, but you’re back to whining.

“bucky, please, please just—fuck me,” you beg, squirming beneath him.

he takes mercy on you, finally, and sets a hard pace. your hands fly up to push against the headboard, moaning and gasping from his harsh thrusts, loving the stretch of him inside you. his thumb is back on your clit and you cry out, clenching hard around him, but his thrusts don’t falter. all too soon, you can feel yourself getting close. you hear your own voice chanting please, please, please, mixed in with bucky’s grunts and the sound of him fucking you.

you whimper, eyes squeezed shut as your climax hits the point of no return, crashing over you in waves. you think you might scream, but it’s hard to pay attention to anything other than the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. part of you thinks this’ll be it, bucky will come now and then you’ll have had one of the best orgasms of your life and he’ll be on his merry way home. but no, that’s not what happens.

instead, bucky keeps thrusting relentlessly into you, dragging out your pleasure to the point of oversensitivity.

“s’too much,” you breathe, gasping for air.

bucky shakes his head, face contorted in concentration. “one more,” he tells you, voice gruff and deep.

unbelievably, you feel tears beginning to gather in the corners of your eyes. bucky’s still rubbing your clit, still keeping a steady rhythm of his hips, and fuck, he’s so beautiful. you watch him fucking you, wondering how the fuck you got to this moment, how you got lucky enough to bear witness to the sight of bucky fucking, let alone be the one he fucks. his body is ridiculous, looking like it’s carved from marble. you know how much strength it holds, as well, know that if he really wanted to, he could probably fuck you against a wall.

it’s with that thought, with the added bonus of the way bucky touches you, looks at you, like you’re something treasured and gorgeous, giving you such intense pleasure, that the tears threatening to spill over finally fall from your lashes.

bucky notices, because of course he does, and he thrusts into you just a little faster, a little harder, and your body seizes up and then you’re falling into another orgasm. it spreads through your veins, slow like honey, making sure this one settles deep into your bones. bucky groans as he, too, reaches climax, hips twitching into you in aftershocks until he stops moving altogether.

you both pant for breath, sweat gathered in every crevice on your bodies. you think you won’t be able to move for the rest of the weekend.

“need to pull out,” bucky says softly, breaking the moment.

you nod and he carefully pulls his hips back, grunting. you poorly suppress a whimper and close your legs, already hating the empty feeling.

“well,” he starts, plopping himself on his back next to you, “i think i deserve some kind of reward.”

when you turn to face him with an exasperated look, he’s got his arms crossed behind his head, a smug smile across his lips.

“how about i don’t kick you in the balls? how’s that for a reward?”

“i literally just did the impossible.”

“what, made me come twice? i can do that all on my own. you’re not special,” you retort with a huff.

he scoffs. “i fucked you so good you cried.”

“you can’t prove it,” you say to the ceiling.

“keep up this attitude and i won’t do it again,” he threatens, poking you in your side.

you wiggle away from the ticklish touch while trying to tamp down on the hope bubbling in your chest.

“oh, we’re doing this again, are we?” you say as casually as possible.

he rolls his eyes. “of course we are. now,” he sits up in your bed, stretching his arms as he stands and picks up his underwear, “i’m starving. wanna order takeout?”

well, you guess if you’d been worried about any kind of awkwardness before, you shouldn’t have. this is bucky, your best friend. he’d never let things change between you.

***

except, things kinda change between the two of you.

it’s not very noticeable at first, changes so subtle you miss them, until one day he showed up at your apartment and greeted you with a kiss. you stood frozen in your doorway as he rambled about how stressful his day had been as he kicked his shoes off. it was only when you heard him calling out from the kitchen that he was gonna eat your leftovers that you snapped out of it, yelling back that you’d kick his ass if he even touched your dumplings.

another day, he facetimes you and asks if you want to go to see that new movie you’ve been talking about.

“oh,” you’d said. “are nat and sam coming, too?”

he’d given you a funny look, replied, “no, i thought it would just be us two.”

“oh,” you said again. “okay.”

so you’d gone to the movies, let him buy you buttery popcorn and peanut m&m’s and a soda bigger than your head. he shared with you, despite your protests, and halfway through the film you felt his hand settle on your thigh. you blinked and stared at it for a beat, turning to him in question. he only smiled at you briefly before focusing back on the movie.

in between all of this, you continued calling him over for sex. honestly, how could you not? as much as you didn’t want to admit it to him, he was the best you’ve ever had. and if he’s so willing, why shouldn’t you take advantage while you can?

a week ago, though, you’d texted him and asked him to come over, replying to his question of what time and then started getting ready. you’d purchased a new piece of lingerie, a periwinkle babydoll nightie, that left very little to the imagination. it had a matching pair of panties and felt soft and luxurious on your skin. you’d taken extra time to do your hair and makeup, wanting to look like sex on legs, and you’re pretty sure you succeeded.

but when he got there and you answered the door in your sexy outfit, he didn’t see it right away. in one hand he held his phone, typing something on it, and in the other hand he held a grocery bag that you eyed curiously.

“i brought stuff to make spaghetti—“

when he did finally look up, his eyes widened and traveled the length of your body several times. you bit your lip, trying and failing to hold back your smile.

“how about we skip dinner?” you’d said, fisting his nice button-up shirt and dragging him inside your apartment. you grabbed the grocery bag from his hand and sat it on the floor, absently noting he was wearing his date jeans.

whoops, you’d thought, hope i didn’t pull him away from someone important.

you hadn’t let yourself dwell on it, standing up on your tippy toes and kissing him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. he’d returned the kiss, licking into your mouth, drawing your tongue out so he could suck on it and made you moan embarrassingly loud.

“wait,” he’d murmured, “we should eat first.”

“or, you could eat me,” you’d retorted with a giggle.

he groaned like it pained him to say no, gripped your hips hard and put a tiny bit of distance between you. the look in his eyes had made you want to find the nearest flat surface and bend over.

“why don’t you be a good girl for me, hm? let me cook dinner for us and after we eat i’ll fuck you however you want me to. okay, sweetheart?”

you whined, but ultimately agreed, knowing he’d make it worth it.

and then there’s tonight, where he came over unannounced, armed with groceries again and promising to cook you the best meal you’ve ever had. to say you were confused would be an understatement, but you also didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

it’s just… well, bucky’s not really acting like a friend with benefits. sure, you hung out alone with him all the time before, but he never once cooked you dinner, and he certainly never helped wash dishes after. you guess the hello kisses could be explained away as part of the new aspect of your relationship, but something about that didn’t sit quite right with you.

after a truly delicious dinner, you find yourself on the couch with bucky as he scrolls through netflix to find a movie to put on.

“what do you want to watch?” he asks.

“mm,” you mumble, shifting closer to start kissing his neck, “don’t care.”

as he narrows down his decision and finally picks one, you make your way up to his jaw, sucking a small mark into the skin there.

“baby,” he protests softly, “let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”

you pull back, confused. first at the pet name, then at his words. he’s never denied you before, which isn’t to say that he can’t, it’s just that he’s always seemed on board. and, you know, you thought that was kind of the whole point of this thing.

“okay,” you reply after a moment.

he gives you a smile and a sweet kiss, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side to cuddle. you can’t help but frown, feeling like you’re missing something, but not knowing what it could be.

it doesn’t take long for drowsiness to creep up on you. before he showed up, you had planned on probably ordering out for dinner and going to bed early since you’d had a pretty rough day. in fact, you remember texting bucky about it just that afternoon. your eyelids get heavier and heavier, finding it harder to keep them open as the seconds pass. your head droops and in the next blink, you’ve fallen asleep.

you’re not sure how much time has passed when bucky wakes you, but you groan, pouting and burrowing into his shoulder more.

he huffs a laugh. “c’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you to bed.”

“don’ wanna move,” you mumble tiredly.

“i’ll carry you,” he offers. “up you go, baby.”

you half heartedly argue about being jostled, but let him carry you to your bed where he carefully places you, helping you out of your sweatpants and pulling your blankets up around you. you sigh in content, feeling yourself already drifting back into sleep. you hear bucky shuffling, but think nothing of it until the bed dips beside you, then feel his warm body slide in underneath the covers and press in close.

“goodnight, darlin’,” he murmurs.

you’d ask him what in the word he’s doing, but sleep is just far too enticing to ignore. you fall into slumber with bucky’s warmth along your back, his arm draped over you.

the next morning, you wake to the feeling of his fingers playing with the tiny bow on the front of your panties and his lips placing gentle kisses on your shoulder. you hum, eyes still closed, in the back of your mind thinking this is a nice way to wake up. at the sound of you, his touches get firmer, more insistent.

“good morning,” he rasps, breath tickling your ear.

you don’t really get a chance to reply. he dips his fingers into your panties, making you inhale sharply, moaning as you buck into his hand. he fingers you for a while, kissing along the column of your throat, biting and sucking marks into the skin there. when you’re begging him for more, he relents, eases your panties off and lifts your leg to slide in from behind. the angle is so nice it has you gasping.

you clutch the sheets weakly, burying your face in your pillow and muffle your whines and moans. bucky keeps a slow, lazy rhythm, acting as if he’s got all the time in the world to draw this out. it’s good, so good, and you can’t hold back your whimper when he kicks up the pace a little, tells you to touch yourself. you come seconds before he does, shuddering through it and humming happily.

as you both lie there and catch your breath, awareness trickles into your mind. you swallow roughly, staring blankly at the wall as you realize your feelings have grown far too much for this to be only casual anymore.

bucky kisses your shoulder again. “i’m gonna go make breakfast, okay? i’ll call you when it’s ready.”

“okay,” you whisper, blinking rapidly to keep tears from forming.

hearing bucky bustle around your kitchen makes your heart clench with want; want for something you can’t have.

***

bucky: dinner tonight?

you bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the text. you know you need to cut things off with him before you get anymore hurt than you already are. it’s not fair to either of you if you continue with this arrangement when you’ve caught real feelings for him. you have to tell him, and soon. with that thought in mind, you type out a reply.

you: sure. what time?

bucky: reservations are at 8pm, i’ll pick you up by 7:45.

reservations? where was he taking you? you get another text before you can ask.

bucky: dress nice ;)

with a sigh, you text back an affirmative and try to start mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you dreaded having. you could only hope and pray that he agrees to still be your friend after.

by the time there’s a knock on your door that night, you’ve worked yourself up into an anxious mess. you open the door to see bucky standing there with a single peach colored rose and a bashful grin.

“hi,” he greets, leaning in to kiss you on your cheek. “this is for you.”

he hands you the rose and you feel your heart crack in your chest. you muster a small smile.

“thank you. let me go put this in a vase and we can head out.”

he nods and waits patiently at the door. as you fill a vase with a little water, you take a deep breath, giving yourself a mental pep talk.

this was going to suck.

the drive to the restaurant doesn’t take too long, and when you see where he’s taken you, your eyebrows shoot up. this is one of the nicer places in the city, definitely not on the affordable side. he helps you out of the car, leading you inside with his hand on the small of your back. you’re led to a small booth in a far corner with overhead lighting that feels too intimate. maybe you’d have to wait until you left to tell him…

conversation is light, a bit surface level, and you get the feeling that bucky is a little nervous. you wonder if maybe he’s gonna let you down gently first, hoping that he doesn’t, because you’d rather not cry in such a fancy restaurant.

after the waiter takes your drink orders, bucky sighs.

“okay, let me just… get this off my chest.”

oh fuck, here it goes.

“i know i’ve never really come across at the most romantic guy, especially since i’ve never felt the need to be.” he runs a nervous hand through his hair. “you’ve always been so important to me, and this last month has been so, so wonderful.”

“bucky…” you trail off, attempting to somehow stop him, but he powers through.

“i just—i never thought i’d find somebody, you know?” he says, earnest, gaze locked on yours. another crack in your heart. “especially not somebody who was my friend first, that i already had a solid foundation with. the attraction had always been there, but the friendship meant more to me, and finally allowing that to blossom into this amazing, new, fun relationship has got to be the best decision i’ve ever made.”

did he start dating someone and not tell you? oh god, has he been sleeping with someone else? at the same time? your stomach turns, eyes burning, hating yourself more and more as he speaks.

“so, i guess what i’m trying to say is,” he says, rolling his eyes at himself and smiling, “happy one month anniversary, sweetheart.”

you blink, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “what?” you croak, beyond confused.

bucky, however, looks concerned. “baby, why are you crying?”

“i…” you blink some more, eyes flitting around the room as if you’ll get some kind of clarity that way to the situation currently happening. “what?” you repeat.

“did i come on too strong?” he asks, looking embarrassed now. “i wasn’t sure if you’d even want to celebrate, but i’ve just been so happy with you—i’m sorry, baby, i should’ve asked.”

“bucky, what are you talking about?” you finally manage, unable to keep the bewilderment out of your tone. “anniversary?”

bucky frowns. “i didn’t get the date wrong, did i?”

“no, i—this isn’t—i’m not talking about—ugh, i mean, when did we even start having an anniversary to celebrate?”

bucky’s face goes blank, sitting back in his chair. your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, so fucking confused, so fucking hopeful.

“we… we’re dating,” he says, slow, unsure. “aren’t we?”

“since when?” you ask probably too loudly, cheeks flushing.

he opens and closes his mouth a couple times. “when i asked you out?”

“bucky, oh my god, you’re gonna have to be more specific before i lose my goddamn mind. when did you ask me out?”

he huffs, his own cheeks flushing. “at the cafe! a month ago, at brunch with natasha and sam.”

your eyes widen in disbelief. “when you asked if you could fuck me until i cried?” you hiss, ignoring the scandalized look on the waiter’s face as he brings your drinks over.

smiling apologetically, you thank him and wait until he’s gone before sending a glare bucky’s way.

“that’s not how you ask a person out,” you seethe.

“i asked if you wanted to give this a try and you said yes!” he replies desperately. “i’ve taken you on dates!”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, thinking of all the times you thought he was being too romantic, more-than-friends type of behavior. you’re a fucking idiot, but god, so was he.

“at no point did you say anything even remotely close about us starting a relationship. i thought we were just fucking, bucky, i didn’t realize it was more than that!”

“you don’t—“ he starts, then stops, looking down at the plate in front of him. “you don’t want to be with me?”

“i didn’t know it was an option,” you say carefully.

“well, it is.” he meets your gaze, cautious. “i just spilled my guts to you. you know how i feel now. how do you feel? about me?”

you lick your lips. “bucky, i… i was planning to end things with you tonight.” his expression drops, even though he tries to mask it, so you’re quick to explain. “not because i don’t like you, but because i do like you and i thought you wouldn’t want anything more than just sex with me.”

“it’s never been and never could have been just sex with you,” he replies, quiet and relieved. he reaches across the table to take your hand in his. “i meant it when i said you’re the best decision i’ve ever made. i want this—the sex, the dinners, dates, all the gross and sappy shit i never wanted before… i want it all with you, if you’ll have me.”

you can’t fight the smile spreading across your lips. “of course i’ll have you, bucky.”

he smiles in return, a laugh bubbling out of him, which makes you giggle, until you’re both laughing so hard and loud that patrons from other tables are sending dirty looks your way, which only makes you laugh more.

“do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, laughter dying down. “there’s pizza and sex calling our names, i think.”

bucky moans dramatically. “i knew i liked you for a reason.”

he leaves money on the table and then the two of you quickly make your way through the restaurant, giggling and holding hands the whole way, even in the car.

#avengers fic #marvel fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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saturnxlust · 8 months ago

Text

Age Gap

Van der linde gang x Fem!Reader

Dutch Van Der Linde

He def goes for younger girls

He looks like the type

You caught his eye with your outfits

Hes 44 but i feel like he wouldnt want a age gap over 10 years

If you got the courage to make the first move he would admire that about you

Definitely sweet talks you about being a smart girl

Lord the amount of praise this son of a bitch would give you could boost even arthur ego

Def a sugar daddy, before the events of black water

After he would try his best but he left most of his money behind in his old house

Arthur Morgan

He isnt that old but he def wouldnt go over 5 years

He finds it odd and repects his women too much

This is the man to go to if you want a sugar daddy

He will gladly spoil you with all the money he loots from dead O’driscols

He also gives out praise but thats just the man he is

If hes not complimenting you and how stunning you are 24/7 he feels like a awful person

He would so totally call you his “sweet baby” or “babydoll”

If you wear pink dresses he’d definitely be wrapped around your little finger

If not and your more of a streatwear person he’d loose his mind at low rise or cami tops

Again you’d have him wrapped around your finger immediately

John Marston

Hes definitely not old and would NOT go under 4 years😭

This guys only 26

Hes not a sugar daddy

Sorry babe

But he thinks your cute

He def likes girls with a attitude

Just look at abigal for christs sake

He was married to her😭

He would try to be good for you

Wanting to take you and run off into the sunset, but he couldnt leave dutch like that

Not after everything dutch had done for him

You would have to get along with jack to even be on johns radar (sorry🥲)

He wants you as soon as your motherly to jack

He talks to arthur about you

He calls you “sweet girl” and “doll” in that gravily voice

Hes incredible, really

Hosea Matthews

Okay well hes old😅

Def a sugar daddy

I mean have you seen him?

He goes for at least 10-12 years younger 😍

After bessie he really didnt think he’d fall in love again but when you came in twirling you hair and giggling he’d be a teenager all over again

You could ask him to shoot the man next to him for no reason and he’d do it

Hes quite literally wrapped around your finger

I say that because he would not leave you alone

Constantly holding you and treating you to gifts and fancy things

He once bought you a diamond necklace in saint denis

Whether you protested or not is up to you

He doesnt let you out of his sight and will not stop rambling to dutch about you

Dutch is too tired and crazy to deal with hosea and sends him your way to obsess over you😊

Sean MacGuire

The belief is hes mid 20’s so im gonna say 25

He definitely is like john and goes for 3 years younger

But i see him as the type to like older women cough cough mary cough

He likes the contrast of him being a stupid asshole and you being a sweet little thing

He trys his best with money but like john has very little so if he buys you something its usually something small

Though he never really feels accomplished after he gets you something small

So he saves for a long time and buys you something a little bigger like a silver necklace or a nice bracelet

His accent gets in the way of things sometimes but he will call you “sweet thing” though it sounds more like “sweet ting”😭

Love him though

Javier Escuella

Another baby of the gang🫶🫶

Hes 26 so he goes for the same range as john

He also doesnt have much money and buys you small things

But he makes it up by calling you endearing nick names

“Mi amor” “dulce nina” “Querida”

You get the point

“Ojalá pudiera comprarte más mi amor pero debes saber que esto es de mi corazón”

I love him sm

He would sugar daddy you if he could

Probably gets upset when he cant buy you things

If your family is rich he refuses your offers of giving him money

It doesnt feel right to have a sweet girl like you give him money when he should be the one providing

It gets him upset to see you want something he knows he cant afford

Has lowkey thought about robbing a very rich man cough cough braithwates cough to buy you things

When on the boat if you go with them he keeps an eye on you

Not liking the scene already, older predatory men being all around you made him extremely uncomfortable

He doesnt want to tell you what to do he always wants it to be your choice but it scares him that he cant really do anything to protect you

Though if it was dire enough he woukd throw the whole plan down the drain to cut open a older guy that got too power hungry and grabbed you

“No te lastimó, ¿verdad, querida?.”

Charles Smith

Hes not as young but doesnt go for under 5 years

Hes got some money to buy small things every now and again

He calls you “baby” and “little girl” alot no matter the age gap

It could only be a few months and he still would💔

He shows you how to hunt and stuff as bonding

He sees killing a deer together and bringing it back to pearson as romantic

But he still takes you on dates

When he can

Hes usually on watch duty as he is literally a unit of a man

This kid is huge

Around 6’6 and 240 pounds

Dwarfs even the biggest of guys, yes even arthur😭

Josiah Trelawny

Trelawny the man you are😍

Hes definitely rich

He has a house with his wife in saint denis

He is quite old so I imagine no more then 10 years difference

He calls you “darling” and “sweet girl” in that trans Atlantic accent

He definitely spoils you rotten

Only the best for his sweet girl

He takes a lot of time to take care of you as well

He doesnt spend time with the gang and only pops up when they need him for things like stealing from rich people

He never lets you pay

Are you kidding

He’d rather die then have you pay for something

Thats a little dramatic but i know he would never feel good about himself ever again if he got to a point where you had to pay

Like what do you mean he doesnt have enough money

No no darling put yours away papa trelawny will have a sweet little chat with the man trying to embarrass him infront of his woman

“YES I HAVE ENOUGH MONEY ARE YOU INSANE, no dear its okay you dont need to pay. BACK TO YOU DONT YOU EVER-“

Obviously there are ones i didnt put in here like micah, pearson, uncle, lenny ect. I dont know enough about them nor do i like most of them (except for lenny i love him sm)

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #dutch van der linde x reader #hosea matthews x reader #sean macguire #charles smith #javier escuella x reader #josiah trelawny #john marston x reader

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bananami · 1 year ago

Text

STFUATTDLAGG

character/s: choso kamo x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS: meangirl!reader x loser!choso is a pairing that lives in my head rent free so when you all voted for choso to be the next hot man i wrote for i knew this was what would come out of it so let’s get into it whores

WARNINGS: this is college based bc u know why. 18+, nsfw, mdni, the whole shebang, kiddos avert ur eyes IT'S ALL SMUT / also just be aware i did use fem language for reader. as always, i did not proof read xxx

A/N: delusion is like drugs for simps, and i am the crackhead

Choso isn't like a nerdy loser, more like he’s just an emo boy, he’s got that alternative look going on and in a school full of preppy rich kids he stands out like a sore thumb. Of course this leads to some not so nice kids being not so nice to him, to which like he literally could not care less. He pays no mind to what anyone thinks of him beyond of course what his brothers think of him.

And as much as people aren’t nice to him, they do not fuck with him directly, lowkey scared of his reactions. Especially following a specfic incident in which someone tried to pick a fight with him. At first he was going to just let it slide but then they said something rude about Yuuji and this man laid them out. People were sent to urgent care and everything. Choso was put on suspension and almost kicked out, but their family friend is a lawyer and threatened to sue the school and anyways (if you know who you know who) so he was allowed back at school and everyone’s a little weary of him. This doesn’t stop the mean comments from coming.

And you. You’re no exception. You made fun of him every chance you got. The way he always did his hair in that weird double bun updo, or how he had his nails painted black, his various piercings and tattoos, the way he dressed so much different, was so much different, than any of the other guys you knew at school.

And you were so disgustingly attracted to him. While everyone would sneer and make fun of him and you played along, in reality you were internally berating yourself.

Choso did his best to ignore you but to be honest in the end you were just too fun to mess with. He thought it was cute how you thought you could hurt his feelings, how you really tried, and didn’t realize that he had a thing for brats and that’s just what you were. Everyone else was too afraid to say it straight to his face ever since the fight except for you.

One time he caught you staring at him and he couldn’t help himself, leaning over with a careless smirk. "If you spent less time staring at me and more time paying attention to the lecture maybe you wouldn’t be failing the class."

"Fuck you, Choso.”

"You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You hoped he’d mistake your embarrassment for anger. He didn’t. You snapped back, as usual. "Maybe if you didn’t dress like such a freak, you’d actually have some friends.”

"Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch your boyfriends would actually stick around for longer than a few months."

The one stung, and you tried not to let it show. Thrown off your game, all you could bring yourself to reply back was: “don’t call me a bitch.”

He shrugged, as though he were bored with the conversation already. "I never said it was a bad thing, just that you keep dating dudes who can’t handle you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He doesn't answer though, and you spend way too much time thinking about what he could've meant. Was he implying that he could handle you? Was that why he constantly found ways to poke at you? Did he like when you were a brat? Did it matter if he liked it? It led your fantasies down a deep and dark rabbit hole that you spent weeks harping on.

Things get even worse after you realize that Choso might’ve been right about your grades slipping and staring at him in class and whatnot. And (for plot reasons of course) that would mean your professor paired you up with him for the final project so that you’d stand a better chance at passing the class.

Which is how you find yourself standing outside of his apartment door, debating how much you need to actually pass the course for your degree. You kept coming to the same conclusion. You definitely needed to.

"You just gonna stand at my door like a creep or can you move so i can let you inside?” He stood at the top of the staircase up to his apartment, watching you with another bored expression.

You're reaction is second nature. "I’m the creep? How long were you just standing there watching me? Maybe I’d already knocked and you didn’t answer so I was waiting. Let’s get on with it, I don’t need anyone seeing me hanging around-”

"Alright relax, princess. No one’s around to hear you act like you hate me. Come inside and I’ll grab us something to drink.” He opened the door to let you both inside, holding it open for you to enter first.

"First off, I do hate you. And second, how do I know you’re not going to poison me?”

"Don’t worry, I wouldn’t poison you. The plan was going more in the direction of choking.”

"Choked to death? Good to know.”

"You implied killing. All i said was choking.”

"Oh, gross.” You groaned. You pushed away the images that were brought to your mind. Choso's hand around your throat, fingers in your mouth, his breathy whispers telling you what else he'd have you choking on by the end of the night.

It's not too bad for the first few hours. You start out working on the project in the living room, but Choso’s neighbors are loud as all hell and you eventually ask if you guys can move into a room away from that shared wall. And (of course for plot purposes) that would be his bedroom.

"Your bedroom is exactly as I pictured it would be."

"This is the part where I make fun of you for picturing what my bedroom looks like."

"Yeah weird and creepy, just like you.”

"Your insults are getting less and less creative.”

"Yeah well….shut up.”

He’s surprised at that, usually you’d come back at him with something witty and clever and he actually enjoyed it.

It’s quiet and he’s sitting at his desk while you lay casually on his bed when he decides now’s as good a time as ever, and he might never actually get you alone again to say it.

"You ever gonna admit that you find me attractive or keep lying to the both of us?"

You wince. "I don't find you attractive. Stop flattering yourself."

"You flatter me enough with all the staring and drooling you do over me in class."

"You're obsessive," you snap at him.

"At least i can admit it."

You're caught off guard, stuck between wanting to ask what he means and not wanting to give in to the obvious baiting he's doing. When he throws the study material down on to his desk and plops down in front of you on his bed, it seems like he's resigned to not giving you that choice.

"Tell you what, I'll tell you all of the dirty and depraved things I think about on a daily basis, and you can decide after whether you'd like to share those same thoughts of yours with me or not."

"Why would I want to hear any of the thoughts in your head?"

"Because a lot of them revolve directly around you." He's leaned so close you're almost touching one another. Your silence is enough to spur him on. "I think you've never been fucked properly before."

You can't contain the look that falls on your face. "Seriously? This what you think about? My sex life is none of your business, but I'm doing just fine in that department, thank you very much."

He ignores you. "I don't think you've ever been told to shut the fuck up and take it like the good girl I know you can be." That shut you up real quick. Choso is on his knees in front of you, hands cupping around your neck, his thumbs running across your cheeks. "You're whiney little fucking attitude not do it for your boyfriends?" He teased. "They not know how to deal with you when you're being a brat, huh?"

You're head moves without conscious effort, nodding to agree with him.

"You just want some attention, don't you?"

Another nod.

"You want my attention, don't you?"

Hesitation. But you can't help yourself, his presence looming heavy over you, pushing you to admit what you'd kept in the dark for so long.

One of his hands slithers from your throat, down your chest, under the sweats you threw on in a rush to get to his apartment. You're so distracted by his fingers that you don't notice his face moving closer until his mouth is prying yours open. That's all it takes from him to have you stroking your fingers through his hair, pulling it out of the buns they typically are held in.

"Such a little brat." He's hovering over you, pushing your hips into the soft cushion of his bed with his. "Feel how hard it makes me?" He teases as he grinds his hips down, his clothed cock sliding against your center. Your eyes flutter and he grips onto your face with one hand, squeezing firmly. "You're gonna fuck me tonight. Nod if you understand."

You can't believe how quick your head moves up and down. "You're gonna take off those pretty little panties you wore hoping I'd get to see and slide up and down my dick until I tell you to stop. I don't want you cumming until I feel you've begged enough."

It takes no time at all for him to flip the two of you and prop himself up on his forearms. His pants are shimmied off and thrown to his bedroom floor alongside yours.

Your hands are desperate to line him up, anticipation building to have him deep inside of you, but his shoot out to pull them up and place them against his chest. "No, no, no. You don't get me inside you yet, not until you prove to me you deserve it." He urges you along his shaft, flat against his stomach. "That's right, be a good little slut for me and let me feel that pussy slide against my dick."

You watch him from above, his face contorting from concentration to pleasure to near desperation. You've never felt as powerful as you did riding him. Not a single one of your boyfriends ever turning you on as much as Choso was right now. He made you work for it, praising you when you did what he asked, and you chased that praise.

"Shit, look at that baby," he grabbed your hair and yanked your face down to watch yourself slide against him. "Need to feel you squeeze that pussy around me. Fuck, slide me in, slide me in-" his loud groans matched your high pitched sound of relief at having him seated inside you. "Fuck this."

He flipped the two of you back over, gripping each of your legs and forcing them up. "Hold right under your knees for me. Good girl, keep yourself open for me, let me just use you." He fell to his forearms as he plowed into you, giving you no time to get used to any sort of pace.

You tried your best to hold your legs, but you wanted so badly to touch him. One of your hands wandered back up into his lose hair.

He could barely keep his eyes open, mumbling all kinds of truths you were sure he would've kept locked inside had he not been so drunk on the feel of being inside you. "So fucking pretty," he kissed you sloppily, "such a stupid fucking brat, just needed my cock inside you. Feel like heaven, baby. Gonna let me cum inside your little cunt, right? Made me wait so fucking long to have you, I deserve it. Don't I deserve it?"

You can barely form any coherent words, setting for nodding and breathy uh huhs.

"So fucking mean to me, and look how good I'm being to you, huh?" You feel the light slap of his head against your cheek. "Say your sorry, beg me to cum inside your pussy."

You do beg, your apology comes out in between the stuttering and slurring of your words, but you beg and plead with him until he concedes. It his own orgasm that pushes you over, his groans and relentlessness that follow, pushing himself passed the point of no return. You can see the beginning of what looks like tears in his eyes, and he has to force himself to stop, his hips jerking from the overstimulation.

He kisses you ruthlessly, letting his tongue claim your mouth in a manner more harsh than it is anything else. And when he pulls away and his eyes settle back on yours they're equally as harsh.

"No more shitty little boyfriends that can't handle you. I'll handle you. You want my cock, you ask nicely. Understand?"

"Yes," you let your lips peck his, surprising him, "what if I don't wanna be nice about it?"

He smirks, "try it and find out. Now get on your knees and suck my cock like the good girl I know you can be."

#choso x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #choso smut #jjk choso #choso x you #choso x female reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso

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yuff7e · 6 months ago

Note

hey! You could make a male reader x Bakugou where they have an argument and their marriage is no longer the best, so Reader asks for a divorce and Bakugou regrets it and tries everything to achieve it not happen? (with a happy ending, please!)

˗ˏˋ you’re the only thing i want. ´ˎ˗ violence / angst / fluff

male reader (could be gender neutral)

hi h0osyy !! i’ll totally write this for you !! i love me some bakugo brainrot … jejwjwjr he js such a baby !! he got that sweet baby boy syndrome he js has a hard time expressing it guys trust he’s the best he js needs all ur love !! (╥﹏╥)

the cuties song -> www.spotify.com

“okay and what the fuck do you want me to do?!” katsuki yells at you from across the room, he’s thrown about items and was seething with anger. you just stare at him, it was never supposed to get this bad. you knew he had issues, you thought he was starting to get better.. but you were wrong.

you’ve begun to fear for your life as he punched walls a little too close to you, threw utensils that would fall not that far from your head, etc. you feared your own husband was going to hurt you.

that’s when you knew you had to get out.

as you stare at him his anger rises, “speak will you?!” he screams, taking a hand and grabbing his face - clenching his jaw. “why do you never fucking speak?!” this was another one of your arguments, another scary, loud, argument.

“katsuki stop.” you cross your arms, stiffly standing against the door - he just looks at you. “you want me to fucking stop? are you serious? you’re the one that started this you bitch!” he seethes, clasping both of his hands to his sides - “you make me feel like this!”

your eyes were filled with tears at this point, when you two would have these arguments you’d have flashbacks to when you were teenagers - how he would hold you as you walked through festivals, keeping you close. smiling in your ear and kissing your cheek every so often, telling you happy he was with you, how he’d never hurt you.

now look at where this has put you both, “i thought you got better, i guess i was wrong.” you blink a few tears away, them sliding down your cheeks. “oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” he bangs his fist down on the drawer beside him as he stand next to the bed you both share, you haven’t slept in the same bed for a whole week now.

you couldn’t even look at him as you gulp, your hands shaky and sweaty, your heart racing. you were scared, you knew this isn’t how a marriage is supposed to be. the more you think about the relationship you two share, the more you realize how abusive and unstable it’s become.

you’re a firm believer of stable, safe relationships. and this wasn’t one of them, you tried to say the words - but they just wouldn’t come out. you grip your arms tightly, your heart was beating so fast but you knew you had to get out of.. whatever this was.

“i want a divorce.” you croak, hot tears staining your face as you bring up a hand to wipe them away - you realized you hadn’t been wearing your wedding ring. katsuki turned around to face you, a hand on his mouth - rubbing his chin.

“yeah sure, go take a fuckin walk.” he laughs and shakes his head, putting his hands on his hips and turning away from you again. “im serious katsuki, im scared. you scare me, i.. i need out.” you confess, you were literally about to vomit.

katsuki stopped for a second, looking at the ground. he turned to you again, a more serious look on his face. “what?” “you heard what i said.” he stared, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “you really mean that?” he sounds a little panicked now, and he begins to walk toward you.

“yes and… please keep your distance.” he stops at your words, his hands had fallen to his sides and he looks absolutely crushed. he loved you so much, you really think he scares you? “what do you mean i scare you?”

“you just do, the way you act, the things you say. katsuki im fucking tired.” you sigh, you can hear him get choked up and you look at him. “what the fuck? no i.. i would never hurt you. i married you for a reason [name]. i want to be with you. i’m just.. tired too.” he admits, slowly walking towards you again.

you don’t stop him this time, he places his hands on your arms and you tense up. “please.. please god.. please don’t be scared of me.” he pleads, his hands began to shake.

you look at his hands and then into his eyes, he was looking down at your body - he couldn’t bare to look you in the face. you take a hand and place it on his and he breaks down, leaning into you. you break down as well, clutching onto each other in a desperate attempt to not run anyway from one another.

“i don’t want to leave you katsuki, you’re the only good thing i have in my life.. i fucking love you. i wouldn’t want to leave you but i fear i need to because of how aggressive you’ve been lately.” - “please don’t say that, you know id never hurt you. fuck [name] i’m just scared.. everything i’ve ever wanted has come true and im so used to everything failing on me.. i don’t want this to fail and… fuck..”

he grabs onto you tighter, burying his face in your neck - squeezing his eyes shut. “you’re the only thing i want, [name].” he sobs into you and you cradle him, hearing you being afraid of him is one of the things he never wanted to hear. “i want to work this out with you, im just…” you trail off, caressing the back of his head. he pulls away from your touch and looks you in the face, his eyes red and puffy, cheeks stained with tears. “im so sorry.”

you apologize and he touches your face with one of his hands, you don’t pull away or flinch you just stare at him. he leans in to kiss you and you hesitate, he waits - and you lean in too. he puts his hand behind your neck gently, holding you like glass in fear you might break under his touch.

“don’t apologize [name], this is my fault. i’ve been treating you horribly, i’ve been.. scaring you. that isn’t what a husband should do. i’m going to start treating you better from here on out - i promise, [name].” you look into his red eyes, and he looks back into yours. “i’ve wanted to be with you since the first day i saw you in that academy katsuki, and now that i finally have you i want this to work… so bad.” “i know, i know.” that comforting tone of his makes you tear up again, but he wipes the tears away.

“no more cryin’ .. we’re going to work this out.” you go in for another kiss and this one is longer, knocking the breath out of you both for a moment. you chuckle and he does too, “now you need to clean this damn room.” he blinks at you and looks behind himself, realizing how much of a mess he made. “right.” he looks back at you, “i love you.”

“i love you too, katsuki.”

—

REQUESTS : OPEN

#bakugo x m!reader #bakugo x male reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #mha #my hero academia #mha x reader #mha x male reader #katsuki bakugo x male reader #angst #bakugo angst #sad bakugo :(#SAD READER :((#WAAAAHHH !!!#this is such a sad request omg #u did amazing tho anon LOVE U!!#yuff7e

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strawberrypoundtown · 7 months ago

Text

Bullheaded

Bruce Soli x Witch!Reader

Your best friend talks to you about an issue he's been dealing with, hoping to maybe get some magical assistance from you. However, his issue evolves into something much bigger when he asks for some physical help too...

(This was technically supposed to be finished in time for 400 followers, but you guys are way too fast for me 🥲 we're already past 450 and I couldn't be more grateful 😭 i hope you guys enjoy this! This guy is part of a collaboration project between me, @the-witches-creatures (Ari and Bloom belong to her) and @silken-moonlight and I hope you enjoy! This took a lot longer than I wanted it to, and once again, I made it way too long lol I apologize for such a large gap between my posts, as I am currently still a busy college student, but I'm trying my best! I hope the quality makes up for it lol enjoy the show!)

Contains: size kink, weed use, oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, boob job, loss of virginity, breeding kink, pregnancy risk, bulging, a lot of cum

"SON OF A BITCH!!" You heard Bruce suddenly bellow from his room angrily, followed by a loud crash. A long sigh escaped your lips as you broke your meditation and got up. It was a full moon. He knew not to disturb you when you were meditating, especially during the full moon. You got up with a huff and stomped over to his bedroom, throwing the huge heavy door open with the assistance of your magic.

"What the fuck do you want?! You know I need SILENCE during a full moon, you fucking dickhead!" You yelled at him. You were the only one that could talk to him like that without getting put in the hospital. You crossed your arms and furrowed your brow, ensuring he knew how pissed off you were. This shit always happened during the full moon. You saw him with his phone in pieces on the floor between his legs. He was sitting on the edge of his giant bed, tugging on his ears as he groaned in anger.

"Fuck you, bitch! I don't need your fucking attitude right now!" He yelled as he turned to you. Getting a better look at his eyes, they looked red and the fur under his eyes were wet from tears. However, the strange thing was that it didn't look like it was because he took too hard of a rip like you usually found him. In fact, his bong was completely untouched so far tonight from the looks of it. Your anger dissipated slightly as you looked at him. Sure he was a dickhead, but if something was really wrong, you did want to help.

"What's going on then? Why are you being an asshole?" You ask, scoffing a bit as you rolled your eyes. You knew jumping into feelings right away in conversations would go nowhere. You learned from experience.

"I'm not fucking trying to be!" He tugs at his ears again before burying his face in his hands. He grunts softly with each breath as he tries to calm down. He didn't want to be the cause of another noise complaint if he wasn't already. "Go back to your shit. I want to be alone and smoke." He grumbled as he went to open his stash box next to his bong on his bedside table. You let out a long sigh before walking over, literally jumping onto his bed because it's much taller than yours. He scoffs as he watches you in the corner of his eye, but doesn't tell you to leave. You liked to think that he liked having you around. At least a little bit.

As he absent-mindedly packed a bowl, his mind wandered. He had planned on going out to meet with a lady werewolf who needed help during the full moon, but he had gotten ghosted once again. As soon as he told her how big he was, she said she couldn't do it and didn't respond to his texts after that. That's why his phone was broken. He was so frustrated with this happening and had no idea what to do. Even other minotaurs didn't want him. Because of his temper and his size, most people couldn't handle him.

You could, though. A human witch. Although he found your presence annoying at the beginning of your friendship, he had grown to deeply care for you. You were always there, whether he wanted you there or not.

"Hey idiot." You say as you waved your hand in front of him to get his attention. He snaps back from his thoughts and looks down at you. "What's going on?" You ask with genuine concern. Concern for him. Concern you had shown him whenever he opened up to you. But he was frustrated that he had distracted you from what you were doing and didn't want to bother you. He stayed silent as he just stared at you for a moment, internally screaming out of guilt.

He didn't really understand much about your practice, but he knew the full moon was important for you, and you needed it to be as quiet as possible in the apartment. Usually, he'd be able to go out and practice with the band, but they were all busy. He figured that going out and hopefully getting laid for real for the first time would kill two birds with one stone.

That's right, folks, Bruce is a virgin. It wasn't from lack of trying, but everyone he had tried to sleep with found him to be way too big. No matter the monster, he was always left blue-balled and frustrated in more ways than one. It didn't help that you were always around. You always smelled so good. Poor guy couldn't even get any peace in his own room. The whole apartment smelled like you, even when you weren't around. It drove him crazy.

All of a sudden, his phone, now intact, plopped into his lap, and he once again snapped back to reality. He picked it up and looked it over before staring back at you. Why were you so nice to him when he treated you like shit? You always called him your best friend, but that statement made him sad in many ways. You deserved someone better to hold that title. He also wished he had a different title, but knew he deserved that one even less.

"There. I can perform a durability spell on it tonight if you want? It'll be extra strong since it's a full moon. I don't want to have to keep repairing it all the time." You said with a soft laugh, and he just nodded in response with a faint grunt. He could listen to your laugh for hours. You leaned in close to him and placed a hand on his thigh as you reached over, grabbing his phone from his hand. You used his leg to help yourself hop off the bed, and you smiled up at him. "Go ahead and smoke a bowl while I go do this, drama queen. It won't take long. Make yourself useful and pack me a bowl for when I get back too." You pat his thigh before walking out of his room, leaving him alone to his thoughts. The sensation of your hand on his thigh lingered for a moment after you left and he gently put his hand over top of where yours was. As touch starved as he is, he never tried to touch you. He was too worried about hurting you, as he had been too rough with you early on in your friendship and caused some pretty bad bruises. God he wanted to hold you though. He wanted you all to himself.

He slammed his palm into his forehead with a grunt before angrily grabbing his bong and his torch lighter. He needed to smoke. He couldn't keep thinking like that. He knew you deserved a kind, gentle guy. He wasn't kind or gentle. He was harsh. Hurtful. Harmful. That's how you got stuck with him in the first place.

He had recently transferred to your school halfway through senior year of high school. He had been expelled from his last school, and his grandma had contacted the school to see if anyone could keep an eye on him. When they were briefed on his temper and his size, the school administrators invited you to take on the role.

You were a bit of an outcast in your school, despite being surrounded by odd, magical creatures and fellow magic users. You often studied alone and in silence. You would perform unauthorized spell experiments during class, damaging things so you could repair them, and didn't talk to people unless spoken to. This led to people avoiding you, finding you odd or creepy.

So when you said you'd keep an eye on Bruce, they were surprised how quickly you agreed. To say he was shocked at your immediate yes after meeting him was an understatement. He had point blank told you that there was no way he was going to have a babysitter at school, much less a tiny human. Without a word, you used your magic to turn him into a large frog and told the administrators you agreed. He turned back. Eventually.

After that, you two were basically glued together. You got good grades, so you went out of your way to make sure he was caught up with the material. You always tried to help him the best you could, even if he was abrasive towards you. You knew from his Nonna that he actually seemed to have a soft spot for you, despite his protesting. You learned from her how to handle a lot of his outbursts. How his tempermental ass was related to such a sweetheart was a mystery to you.

You also had never told Bruce, but you had a huge thing for big monster guys. It was a big reason why you had said yes to keeping an eye on him. Or at least a huge bonus. The main reason was when you saw all the scars on his arms and face. You wanted to find out more about him, and it seemed like if you didn't take him, nobody else would have.

You heard the bubbling of his bong and the lighting of his torch as you finished up the spell on his phone in your room. It shouldn't break now. At least you had hoped not. Durability spells worked better on larger objects. The bigger it was, the harder it was to break. He had broken a few phones and bongs despite them being protected by your magic. He hadn't typically broken anything bigger than one of his large plates after you put the spell on all his things. However, even though his phone was the size of a tablet for you, it was still too small to be fully protected by the spell.

You let out a soft sigh and thought about all the nights you had thought about casting it on yourself. It was just a simple sigil, followed by a phrase you had made shortly after you had met Bruce. Once you had it mastered and tailored it to Bruce's strength, you slapped that thing on everything he would come in contact with that he used everyday. You just had to draw it on his stuff or carve it in if you wanted it to be extra strong. You had even considered finding a fellow magic user to tattoo it on you due to your... romantic interests.

You would have never admitted it to his face, but from the moment you saw him, you thought he was cute. What can you say? You like a big guy you could tame. You like an experiment. He was a giant, angry bull, and you wanted to ride him. You still did. But you knew his reputation. He never showed any interest in you and only saw you as a friend from your perspective. He had been with a lot of other people over the years, always busy on the weekends and late at night. As you walked back into his room with his phone, he was in the middle of rolling one of his giant joints.

"Really? Those things are massive. They make me feel like I'm sucking on a tail pipe." You groaned as you jumped onto his bed and crawled over to him. He rolled his eyes and scoffed, trying not to let his eyes wander as he watched you out of the corner of his eyes. The sight of you crawling onto his bed was something he enjoyed a lot more than he should.

"You're so fucking dramatic. This is for me. I already packed you a bowl for your bong, princess." He said with a small smirk tugging at his lips. He brought joint up to his lips, lighting it and inhaling. You suddenly snatched the joint from his lips, smirking as you brought to your own. "You couldn't handle this stuff. It's a special strength for bigger monsters like me." He softly grumbles, exhaling the smoke through his nostrils and into your face, rattling his septum ring.

"Oh yeah?" You jumped up on his bed and grabbed one of his horns with a giggle. You use his horn to tug his head closer to yours, purring into his ear teasingly. "I can handle more than you think."

"Fuck... don't do that..." He hissed through grit teeth. His voice dripped in an unfamiliar tone as he spoke. You felt your face flush as you quickly let go of his horn. His eyes snapped to look at you, and you felt a bit of fear for a moment. But when you read the look in his eyes, your heart started to pound. You hadn't seen him make that look before.

Lust.

"I-I'm sorry." You stammered as your face burned from the rush of blood. "I forgot you don't like your horns touched... did I hurt you?" You actually were a bit worried that you just hurt him or he was upset. He hadn't actually gotten upset with you in a really long time, so it was possible you just mistook his anger for lust, right? There's no way he actually looked at you like that.

He suddenly coughed and snatched the joint away from you, avoiding eye contact as he took a long drag from it. He hunched over as one of his elbows rested on his knee, his hand holding the horn you tugged on. You felt guilt well up inside you as well as tears. You knew minotaurs horns were sensitive, but you didn't think a little tug would hurt so badly. Then again, you didn't have horns. You felt awful for causing him any pain.

However, he was actually trying to fight the urge to pin you down on his bed and finger you until you were screaming. He may still have his virginity, but he was pretty talented at fingering and oral from what he had been told. You tugging on his horn and blowing smoke in his face made him so hard he was surprised he didn't rip his pants. He was hunched over to try and hide the massive bulge that appeared. He was trying his best to calm down from your sudden touch by smoking, but unfortunately for him, it just made him hornier. He always wondered if you had cast a spell on yourself to make you so irresistible.

"I'm fine... just... didn't expect that." He grumbled under his breath. That was an understatement. He noticed the room beginning to fill with smoke and that he had burned through half the massive thing already. He coughed a bit and put the half burnt joint out on the ashtray to save for another time. He tried his best to use his arms to cover his dick while he looked over at you. His blood ran cold for a moment when he saw you... crying?

"I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to hurt you or anything." You cry softly, your eyes extremely red from both the smoke and your tears.

"What? That didn't hurt me." He scoffs as he looks away. He acts offended at the suggestion you could hurt him, but in reality, he actually felt bad that he was making you cry.

"Then... why are you so upset about me touching your horn?" You sniffled and wiped your eyes. He looked back at you with his piercing green eyes for a moment and sighed.

"I'm not... upset with you... ugh, I know this sounds stupid, but I had a date for the full moon tonight, but she chickened out before I even went over... so I'm pent up and you know my fucking horns are sensitive. I don't know why you fucking touched them... Ugh! You always make it so difficult!" He bellowed before punching his wall above his headboard. Thankfully, this wasn't uncommon, and the durability spell on the wall was effective.

"What do I make difficult?! I make sure you don't destroy half your shit when you get like this!" You snapped back angrily as you felt yourself getting a bit annoyed with his whining.

"You make everything difficult! Living with you, your stupid incense and herbs, just your fucking scent is so fucking overwhelming. I can't take it anymore!" He bellows, hunching over with his head in his hands. "You make me fucking ache."

"... Huh?" You squeaked, confused.

"You cause me to act like this... I'm fucking pent up because of you. You're always around with your dumbass beautiful face and sexy body." He growls. "You have no idea how hard it is for me to keep my hands off of you all the time..."

"What if... I don't want you to?" You asked more as a question for yourself than for him. He rarely touched you, although you would touch him. You always wanted to know what his more gentle touch would feel like.

"What?" He asked, shocked at your suggestion. He stared at you, confused as you began to explain.

"Well, what if I don't want you to keep your hands to yourself?... what if I want you to touch me?" You had to look away as you spoke. You felt your face redden from embarrassment as you admitted what you really wanted.

"But... what if I hurt you again?" He grumbled lowly, clenching his fists in his lap as he sat up. Remembering the times he was too rough with you and hurt you was painful for him. You stuck by him through so much and still wanted to be around him to this day. He didn't want to cause you any pain.

"Oh, Brucie..." You began softly, resting a hand on his forearm. You were one of the few people that knew his real name, and you used it when you were more serious.

"Shut up." He snapped at the use of his real name as he rolled his eyes.

"You shut up." You retort as you look up at him and stand up on his bed. "Brucie, you won't hurt me."

"You don't know that. I've hurt you before." He says with a sad look in his eyes. The sight of the bruises he had given you back when you had first met were burned into his brain.

"There's only one way to find out." You gently take his giant hand in both of yours and look at him with a bashful smile. You felt his hand shaking as he tried to follow your lead, his other hand slowly reaching for you. He gently let's go of your hands and gingerly wraps his giant arms around you, pulling you into a tender embrace. His warmth surrounds you like a comforting blanket as you try your best to hug him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. You feel him let out a deep sigh and you do the same. One of your hands rubbed the back of his head, and the other rubbed between his shoulder blades. A deep rumble in his chest viberates through you as he relaxs at your touch. You can feel his tense muscles slowly relax through the fabric of his hoodie under your fingertips. He leans his wet nose into your neck and inhales deeply, making you shiver with a shakey breath.

"How do you smell so fucking good?" He groans, his hot breath bathing your neck. You have to hold your breath to ensure you don't moan. The way he was holding you made it impossible for you to move away due to his strength, but you also didn't want to. He suddenly snaps back to reality and pulls away from you, his large hands moving to gently hold your shoulders to keep you at arms length. "This is dangerous."

"What?"

"I can't stay gentle for long. I'll end up hurting you if we keep going..." He says with a hint of sadness in his voice. Your warmth felt so nice and he wanted more, but he knew holding back wasn't easy for him to manage long-term. He didn't want to put you at risk for his own selfish wants.

"Oh... um... I have an idea then, actually." You say while trying to avoid eye contact. You just needed to do the durability spell on yourself and grab that lube you have... but you didn't want to admit that you had special magic lube for fucking large monsters for when you used your toys. You didn't want to seem desperate, even if the puddle developing in your panties argued otherwise. "I-I can help with you being pent up..."

"What?" He asked, genuinely a bit confused. "Why?"

"I just want to help!" You lied. The truth was that you had wanted to fuck him for years. Longer than you guys had been living together, but it felt like when you guys moved in together that it would never happen. After you guys moved in together, when he wasn't with you at the studio or in the apartment, he was seemingly off getting his dick wet where-ever he could. It was frustrating, but you knew you probably wouldn't be able to handle him as a human anyways. However, you could experiment on your own. You had done research on how big an average minotaur dick was and had gotten a few different toys to work up to it, and a huge bottle of magic lube that was supposed to help humans accommodate larger monsters. Over the last couple of years, you were comfortably using the minotaur dildo without any issues as long as you used the lube. You would often have to buy more. A small smug smirk began to develop on his lips as he cocked an eyebrow.

"You want to help? What makes you think your tiny human body could handle helping me?" He said as he tilted your head up to look at him by using one of his fingers under your chin. He repeatedly looks down at your lips while staring into your eyes. He may have seemed confident in that moment, but he was actually trying to get you to back down. He thought you were joking about wanting to help to try and cheer him up. He thought playing along would make you chicken out.

"I, uhhhh... may or may not have magic lube in my room... and the durability spell should work if I cast it on myself, so theoretically I can help you... and you wouldn't have to hold back." You said with your resolve only wavering slightly. You couldn't look him in the eyes, and your face was beet red, but you didn't pull your head away from his hand. After a few moments of silence you looked up at him and you saw that his eyes were wide and his mouth was open like he wanted to say something, but nothing was coming out.

He was stunned that you actually had that stuff. Maybe you had been with more guys than he thought? No, he never smelled anyone coming over he didn't know about. Would have been nice to know you had magic lube. He could have been fucking you for weeks. Months? How long have you even had that lube for? Slowly, his resolve to hold back was dwindling at your words. He couldn't help but look you up and down, unintentionally undressing you with his eyes.

"Show me." Bruce commands with a deep growl, a dark look in his eyes as you slowly nod. You didn't want to argue with him if he looked like that. You jump off the bed and run over to his bedroom door, a bit wobbly from smoking. You hear him chuckle as you leave his room. "Hurry up, or I'll change my mind." You felt a bit dizzy from your high, but it could have been from all the blood in your cheeks.

As you got to your room, you walked over to your closet and sighed. You ended up with the smaller room in the apartment, of course. It still gave you more space compared to Bruce. You gently rubbed your cheeks as you tried to calm down and opened your closet. You had a large box on the top shelf that you kept everything in. As you were pulling it down, you heard familiar stomping coming towards your room. Shit. You dropped the box on the ground and quickly opened it, grabbing the lube before trying to close the box before he walked in. However, your timing wasn't good enough, and he walked in just as you had grabbed the lid to put it back on. You could have died right there on the spot as he stared at your collection of giant sex toys.

"Woah... I didn't think you were that much of a slut. Examples of real dicks you've taken?" He laughs as you felt extremely embarrassed, but still felt the need to defend yourself.

"Shut up! I'm a virgin, okay?! I haven't been with any other guys!" You blurt out without a second thought as you slam the lid back on the container. Your hands snap to cover your mouth as instant regret sets in. You didn't want him to know that. You didn't want him to know that you jerked off with those toys, hoping that he'd replace it. You let out a long sigh while you worked up the smokey courage to admit more. "I've only ever had an interest in a particular guy if I'm being completely honest..."

"Oh." He felt a pang of guilt as his heart sank. He felt awful for putting pressure on you. Why was he also upset that you were interested in someone else? "Who?"

"W-well, he's always near me... he's strong... makes me feel safe... he's, uh..." You glance down at the bulge in his jeans and swallow before looking up at him. "B-big..."

"Is it fucking Aram? That son of a bitch!" Bruce grumbled angrily, unable to hold back his temper and punching the wall. Thank god you made sure almost everything in your room had the durability spell too. He was frustrated that you wanted him as practice for his annoying manager. He wanted to kill him in that moment. "Fucking creep!"

"Wha- it's not Ari!" You yell in annoyance. Bruce was so dense. "It's you, dumbass! I'm interested in you! I wouldn't have wanted to fuck you for my first time if I wasn't!" You were fed up. You were done trying to throw hints around. He stood there for a moment, seemingly trying to process what you said.

"WHAT?!" He bellowed, shaking the walls of the penthouse before clearing his throat and trying again. "You're interested in me?"

"W-why do you think I have all those toys and that lube? I'm not stupid. I know minotaurs are big... I didn't want to be totally inexperienced..." You scoffed softly, trying to play it cool, but miserably failing with how you couldn't even look at him and your face being dark red.

"But why me?... I'm an arrogant asshole that takes up all your time and energy... you deserve better than me... I drive you crazy." He states gruffly, but you can still hear a hint of sadness despite his attitude.

"Yeah, but have you ever thought about how you make me crazy? You always try your best to be nice to me. You take care of me and protect me. I get to travel all over and smoke weed all day with you. I wouldn't have the life I have if it weren't for you." You say with a soft, genuine smile, approaching him as he backs up into the wall. His heart fluttered in his chest as he listened to you. "If all I have to do is make sure you don't break anything and repair a few things, I'm more than happy to take on more..." You hesitated for a moment, unable to stop yourself from looking over at his bulge before quickly looking away again. "Um, responsibility..." His breath catches in his throat as he looks at you. He stared down at you with wide eyes for a few moments before they narrow.

"I need you to do that fucking spell now." He says in a deeper voice than you're used to. It took you off guard.

"What? N-now?" You stammered softly. You worried you got him upset again.

"Just fucking do it." He growls in a more commanding tone. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, but also stirred your excitement. You didn't argue though, just quickly grabbing the closest marker and standing in front of your mirror as you tried to carefully draw the sigil on your lower abdomen under your belly button. It technically would work if you drew it anywhere, but you figured that you might as well have it close to what you wanted protected. You tried your best to stop your hands from shaking as you could see Bruce in the mirror, waiting. You could see the bulge in his pants grow bigger by the minute as you worked on getting the sigil drawn. Once it's done, you whisper your incantation, and a faint electric shock washes over your whole body out from where the sigil is.

"There. It should be ready- Ah!" You squealed as he suddenly grabbed you by the waist and threw you over his shoulder without a word. You brace yourself on his shoulder as he keeps one hand on your waist to keep you from falling.

"You're such a bitch. I can't believe you fucking hid this from me." He growls before delivering a swift smack to your ass, earning a screech from you. It was hard, but it didn't hurt other than a sting. Either he was still being gentle, or the spell worked. Thank god. You let out a moan involuntarily as his large hand rubbed and groped your ass through your shorts. What did you get yourself into? "How long have you wanted to do this?"

"A while..." You admit quietly as you watch his ass, a bit distracted by the view until his hand connects with your ass once again.

"How fucking long?" He growls, growing impatient.

"Y-years!" You admit, gripping the back of his sweater as you squeeze your thighs together tightly. You hoped he couldn't smell your arousal, but you could hear him sniff the air a bit as he started moving. He made his way back to his room and kicked the door closed. The door slammed on it's hinges, startling you for a moment before Bruce suddenly throws you onto his large bed and you land with a bounce. He tosses the lube onto the bed and it lands with a bounce a couple feet away from you.

"Really? Years?" He asks, pulling off his hoddie to reveal his muscular upper body. He had many large scars visible through the fur of his chest and arms, and many more you knew about that were hidden underneath. He had gotten a bit of soft belly over the years of being on the road and eating takeout, but you thought he was still hot. You always thought he was. You wanted to kiss every single scar on his body and tell him that. "Even now?"

"Yes." You admit with a sly smile. The haze of smoke that still lingered in the room made you feel warm, and maybe a bit overconfident. You're taken by surprise as he crawls over you on his hands and knees, a grin spreading across his face as his imposing form casts a shadow over yours.

"Shit... you made me wait so long... I'm gonna enjoy tasting you, princess." He presses his large wet nose against your neck and inhales softly. His tongue slides out and licks along your collarbone and up your neck. He pulls away just enough so his face is in front of yours. He can't help but stare into your eyes before crashing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. Your hands quickly find his chest and run upwards, wrapping around his neck as you moan against his lips. His large tongue slides into your mouth as he moves one of his hands to pull your shorts off. He pulls off your shorts and panties in one smooth motion.

His tongue filled your mouth so much it made you gag, but you didn't care. You had craved him for so long. And after knowing the spell works, you couldn't wait for him to just fuck you, but feeling him finally touch you was more intoxicating than the smoke he smelled like. You felt him slowly pull his tongue out of your mouth and pull away from your lips. You gasp and pant as you realize you had forgotten to breathe the whole time.

"B-bruce-" you speak shakily as you stare up at him with your gorgeous, lust drunk eyes. He lets out a soft groan as he suddenly rips your shirt with the hand that was groping your boobs and throws the shreds off to the side.

"Say my fucking name, witch." He growled as he starts to move down. He positions himself so his head is between your legs, braced on his elbows with his hands holding your hips much gentler than you were expecting.

"Brucie... please." You were quickly silenced by a squeal as his large tongue slid between your wet folds, giving your pussy a long, teasing lick. His nose pushes against your clit as his hands grips your hips a bit tighter.

"Oh fuck... You taste so fucking good..." He moans softly against your pussy lips, making you involuntarily grind against his face. He grins and keeps lapping at your pussy.

"Shit." You moan as his tongue slides into your needy pussy. He knew he'd never be able to fit his dick inside you without stretching you first, even with the spell, so he was glad he was talented in other ways to help the process. His thick tongue fucked you as you threw your head back, moaning loudly. You kept trying to buck your hips, unsure if you were trying to get away or get more, but he kept you held firmly in place for him with his rough hands. He wasn't letting you go anywhere. And he was eating you out like he was starved.

You squirmed in his hands as his flat nose rubbed your clit. His tongue kept thrusting in and out of your wet pussy, curving to hit everything just right and listening to your moans to make sure you were enjoying yourself. Your thighs clamp down on the sides of his head as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. You suddenly grab his horns and he moans into your cunt, the vibration sending you into your first orgasm of the night.

"You're lucky you taste so good..." He chuckles as he pulls his mouth away from your drenched pussy, moving one of his hands from it's place on your hips to grab the lube. "Grabbing my horns made me real impatient now... but I need to make sure you're ready for me..." He sits back on his cloven feet as he squirts some lube onto his index finger. You take the opportunityto adjust yourself comfortably, biting your lip as you wait in anticipation of what he's doing. He puts the lube next to him as he moves his finger to press against your entrance. He rubs your outer lips with the lube, making you squirm as he teases you. He places his free hand gently on your lower abdomen to keep you still as he pushes his finger into your pussy. You stretch around him as his digit slowly fills you. It felt like the human sized toys you had tried before, but a lot better. A low grumble resonates from his throat as he looks down at you with a smile. "You're so tight... even with all that work you put in..." His voice and what he said made you clench around his finger, moaning as he slowly pumps his finger inside you.

The magic lube did have an odd side effect you had forgotten to mention. It used a mild aphrodisiac to help with the 'relaxing process' and because you were human, mild aphrodisiac mixed with smoking weed usually made your mind only think about him and what he'd do to you. It had just been fantasy for the longest time, but experiencing it now was making your brain melt. His hand on your abdomen gently pressed down as he started to move his hand a bit faster, earning plenty more desperate moans from you. A mix of your juices and the lube were dripping from your pussy and onto his sheets, but he didn't care. They were going to get a lot more messy soon enough.

"You seem eager... Ready for another one already?" He asks, slowing down for a moment as he teases your slick hole with another one of his thick fingers. You nod eagerly, opening your mouth to say yes, but only moans spilling out. A deep chuckle comes from him as he grins and eases another finger inside you, speeding up the pace again. You felt a sting for a brief moment before the lube helped you accommodate him. Two of his fingers was almost too much for you, but the lube was working wonders, just like his fingers. "I haven't had anyone take my fingers so well. Impressive for a human."

Bruce chuckled again as his fingers worked inside you, pressure building once again as you felt yourself close to your second release of the night. He can feel you getting close, so he adds a bit of extra pressure on your belly, and he curls his fingers to hit your g-spot. Your eyes roll back as he keeps up the pace, forcing your orgasm out of you as you scream out in pleasure. Your body shakes and your pussy twitches around his fingers as he grins and slows to a stop. Your sweaty, stunning body was tembling under him, and he was drinking up the sight.

"Fuck, you're so desperate for me baby. You already came twice." He moves his hand from your lower abdomen to place his hand next to head. He leans down and kisses you, groaning against your lips as he feels you buck your hips to try and get more friction inside you again. "You're always so fucking impatient." He whispers as he slowly pulls out his fingers and gets off the bed. You whine at the empty feeling, sitting up as you watched him take off his jeans. In the process, his phone fell out of his pocket. He grabs it and sees a text on his phone.

Bloom: close your fucking window Bruce. The whole city can hear you guys.

"Ah, shit." Still in his boxers, he walks over to close his window before walking back over to the bed with a sigh. "Where were we?" He says with a grin, making sure you were paying attention before he finally took off his boxers. You watch him closely as he reveals his dick, and your jaw drops slightly. It's bigger than your fucking arm. His thick, vieny cock bounces in front of you as you can see precum drip from his rounded tip and onto the edge of the bed. Thank god for magic lube, or you wouldn't have been able to fit him inside at all. You have to look away before you start drooling, and you look up at him. Upon looking at his face, he's avoiding eye contact and actually looks a bit nervous. An idea pops into your head based on the look on his face and how his dick is twitching, clearly eager for what's to come.

"Are you a virgin too?" You pipe up quietly. His eyes snapped to yours and he spots the shit eating grin spreading across your tired face.

"Excuse me, bitch?" He questions, annoyed that you had even suggested it. Sure, you were right, but how dare you? He's caught off guard by you getting on your hands and knees to crawl over to him. Your legs were still a bit unstable, so you were shaking a bit, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't love the sight of you crawling to him. His dick twitched more in response and you bit your lip.

"It's not a bad thing if you are, Brucie." You sat back on your heels at the edge of the bed and grasp his dick in both hands. You feel him tense under your touch. His dick is so heavy in your hands as you gently rub your hands along his length. He moans and shivers in response, his hands gripping his thighs as he tries his best not to grab you. "You seem happy to have my attention like this."

"F-fuck you." He grunts out between moans and closes his eyes for a moment. He sucks in a breath as he suddenly feels your tongue on him, his eyes snapping open to watch you lick and kiss all over his dick.

"That's exactly what I want. And I know this guy wants it too. Do you?" You giggled as you position yourself so his dick is resting between your boobs. You use your arms to squeeze them together around his cock the best you can while each of your hands grip his cock as well. You can't get your mouth around his tip, but you still lick and suck the tip the best you can as you use your upper body to jerk him.

He stares at you with wide eyes for a moment before cupping your face gently and watching you enthralled. He's never had anyoke try to do this for him before. It may not be a normal blow job, but the fact that you wanted to try and make him feel good too drove him crazy. He can't help but gently thrust against you as you try your best to jerk him. He didn't want to interrupt whatever you were doing, but it just felt so good...

"O-oh fuck-" He stammered out, trying to pull away, but you kept a surprisingly strong grip. He was twitching widely against you and you could tell he was close already. Poor guy must be so touch starved. After only a few more thrusts, he bellows and groans as one of his hands dig his blunt nails into his thigh. He cums hard, moaning as you continue to jerk him and lick him until the ropes of cum came to a stop. You latched your mouth onto his tip and you tried you best to swallow but he came so much and the rest spilled all over your chin and chest. He was shaking a bit, panting as his vision refocuses on you once again.

"I didn't expect you to cum so quickly." You said with a giggle, slowly pulling away and letting his dick fall. "Too bad. I wanted more still." He groans as he looks over you, messy with his cum. As he catches his breath, he suddenly pushes you back on his bed, grabbing your legs and pushing them back against your chest. His dick quickly springs back to life as he sees you under him, covered in his cum. It's all over you like you just stepped out of a gang bang, but it was just him. You were both loving it.

"I never said I was done... and after you came on my face and my fingers earlier, I deserve your hot pussy wrapped around my dick and ready to take everything I give you..." He growled, his eyes showing pure lust as he roughly pushes you back onto the bed. As you flopped onto your back, he was quick to spread your legs and position himself between them.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" You giggled softly before seeing him run his messy cock along your folds, your overstimulated clit throbbing. He grabs the lube once again and coats his cock in it while still grinding against your pussy. As he presses his thick tip against your entrance, you realize he's gonna fuck you without a condom. "W-wait, no condom? What about-"

"I'm not fucking wearing a condom when you've been teasing me for so fucking long..." He growled through grit teeth. You didn't even want to argue. You wanted to feel him. All of him. You didn't want a condom on him either. You weren't on birth control, and he knew that. "I'm gonna fuck you until you're fucking pregnant."

His words made you feel hotter than you cared to admit. Without another word, he starts to ease himself into you with a stiffled groan. You moan and shake as his cock stretches you with a slight sting before melting into pleasure. It takes a minute for you to adjust to just his head before he starts to thrust his hips, slowly pushing deeper and deeper. You were already on cloud 9, and so was he. It took some work, but once you took him all the way, he couldn't help but hold himself inside for a few moments. He was panting heavily as you felt every throb and twitch he made inside you, just like how he could feel every squeeze and flutter your walls made. Your stomach was bulging from his size, leaving you getting even more hot and bothered with every second he sent just having you cockwarm him.

"Fuck... you feel even better than I thought you would..." He groans as his massive hands grasp the back of your thighs, pushing your knees back against your chest. You gasp and don't have a chance to say anything before he suddenly starts to thrust like a wild animal. The sudden jolt of intense pleasure nearly blinds you, everything inside you that made you scream, being hit all at once. Your pussy squeezes his cock hard as only a few thrusts in you're already ready to burst and he moans at the sensation. "Already gonna cum? Such a slut. Be a good slut for me and cum on my fucking dick. I'm not fucking stopping."

You didn't need to be told twice, screaming out in pleasure as you came hard, your vision going white as he just continues to fuck you like nothing is happening. You can't think straight, just moaning and quivering as he continues to rail you through your most intense orgasm to date.

You finally start to come down from your high after what feels like hours, but in reality it was only a couple of minutes. You feel him start to throb once again, his thrusts getting more sloppy and his hands shaking as he keeps your legs held in place. It felt like he was going to break you in half, but you didn't care about anything, but your next rapidly approaching orgasm. He leans down and his large tongue licks the sweat from your neck, his hot breath bathing your neck and leaving goosebumps on your skin.

"F-fuck... I'm close already... what did you do to me? I think I'm fucking addicted to you..." He groans in your ear, his words turning you on even further as he drinks up your moans directly into his ear. "You want my cum baby? I can feel you getting close, too. I want you to beg for my cum baby. Fucking beg for me."

"F-fucking cum in me, please!" You moan out, his thrusts getting even rougher as he grunts. His last bit of restraint is gone as he fucks into you like a machine, unrelenting. You feel his cock throb wildly, his hips and heavy balls snapping against yours in a final rough thrust as he cums inside you. You cum with a screaming moan and clamp down on his dick, milking his cock as he bellows and dumps his load inside you.

You're both panting and trembling as he fills you up for what feels like forever, your belly bulging due to both his cock and his cum. You're both high on endorphins and super strong weed, so both of you have to take a pause before he attempts to pull out. He tries to go as slowly as possible, hissing with a grunt as the head of his dick pops out, his cum spilling out of you and onto his sheets. He groans at the sight before biting his lip and getting up.

"Fuck... you really are addicting..." He grins as he crawls over top of you, pressing his hand gently on your belly as the rest of his cum flows out of you. You moan softly, and he takes your lips in a tender kiss before picking you up and carrying you to his bathroom. He placed you down on the counter as he grabbed a face cloth and dampened it before carefully wiping you down. You can't help but moan as he rubs your sensitive body, shaking as he cleans up your pussy as well and avoids the sigil on your stomach. He watches your every move as he bites his lip hard, trying to keep himself from fucking you further. He kisses you once again before grabbing another face cloth and putting it in your hands.

"Finish cleaning yourself if there's anywhere I missed. I'll be back. I'm gonna go change my sheets." He says with a small grin as he turns to leave the bathroom. It's not like you could go anywhere if you wanted to. The durability spell and the lube worked great, but you were so sensitive and high that you would fall on your face if you even tried to walk. You cleaned your face and tried to clean your hair was best you could. You needed rest. You could shower in the morning.

Once he was done changing the sheets, he came back wearing boxers, with one of his shirts in his hands and puts it on you without asking. He then picks you up and carries you back to his bed, pulling back the covers and putting you down gently. You giggle, his bed nice and soft and his shirt nearly being a floor length dress for you. You stick your hands out the arm holes and smile up at him as he crawls into bed next to you.

"Thank you, Brucie." You say as he covers you both with his plush blanket and pulls you into his chest.

"Shut up. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable. You need to rest." He whispers gruffly as his arms surround you. "We have a long day tomorrow." You smile and nuzzle your face into his chest, letting your exhaustion take you after he kisses you goodnight.

As you're drifting off, you can swear he whispers, "I love you."

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