#Fiery bull girls

[formulawolff]

x. bringing the heat in miami - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 3.6k

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, mentions of masturbation, lewd humor, age gap relationship, ANGST, naughty text messages, banter, light flirting, toto being down astronomically bad (like actually in the trenches) yadayadayada

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party in the city where the heat is on 

all night, on the beach till the break of dawn

“welcome to miami”

“bienvenidos a miami"

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will smith’s infamous track fills your ears as you stroll in through the main gate of the track, fans clustered in thick waves. your name is called more times than you can count. posters, caps, shirts, you name it, wave about, begging to be signed. 

the sun shines overhead, casting bright, fiery light all around. although it was only around eight in the morning, humidity clung to the air, creating a sticky, dewy sensation on your exposed skin. fluffy clouds drift along, carried by a breeze as it rolls through. 

god, the weather was perfect.

hopefully it would be like this on race day.

“welcome to miamiiii,” alex bobs his head, singing along to the music, “are you excited? it is your home turf, after all.”

“if we were in phoenix, i think i would feel a little closer to home,” you suppress a giggle, “but yes, i am really fucking excited. everyone loves a race in their home country.”

“we’ll be in austin soon enough in october,,” alex shrugs, “when we’re in austin, i need you to show me how to ride a bull and teach me how to perfect that smooth texas drawl. i want to be like one of those little aunties who always say, ‘y’all come back now!’ like dolly parton! ” 

“you’re ridiculous,” the giggles blossom into a full-on laugh, “you don’t just start speaking with a southern accent. that’s not how that works.”

“sure it is,” alex nods, “hey, your parents are coming out for the race, right?”

“yes sir! they will finally get to see their baby girl in action!”

“they didn’t come out for a single grand prix last year?” alex raises a brow.

“i wasn’t winning races last year,” you counter, “i told them not to worry about spending that money during my rookie year. not everyone’s parents are loaded, you know.”

which, was a true statement. 

your parents had invested their time, hard-earned cash, weekends off, and a portion of their lives to get you here. you didn’t expect them to fly out for every single grand prix, make every event, or pay another dime towards your expenses. 

unlike many of the drivers, you were not born into an extremely lavish lifestyle. your parents were modest people, who happened to have a child later in life. ever since you were born, they lived in the same house, drove the same vehicles, and got by adequately. since they both worked full-time, getting you into the racing world was no simple feat. 

yet, they were determined to make your dreams become a reality. after years of careful coordination to the karting tracks, weekends devoted to races, and thousands upon thousands of dollars spent, you were offered a contract with williams racing. of course, you accepted that offer graciously. 

now, you were steadily paying your parents back for their dedication. once you signed your contract and those zeroes hit your bank account, you went out to the nearest dealership, purchasing a suburu wrx. with the premium package, at that. 

you would never forget your dad’s face the moment you pulled into the driveway, beaming as you placed the keys in his hand. 

that was one of the only moments you had ever watched him cry, wrapping you up in a tight, loving embrace.

“you didn’t have to do this. being your father is a gift in itself.”

“but you deserve it. you’ve sacrificed so much so that i could be in this position.”

“and you deserve nothing but the best, baby girl. you are going to be one of the greatest drivers formula one has ever seen. you make us so proud. keep making us proud. keep defying those odds. keep making history, baby girl.”

keep making history, baby girl.

as you stroll into the paddock, greeting the engineers, pit crew, and other team members, you can’t shake that feeling brewing deep within. 

it’s is a fiery desire, setting you ablaze with determination. 

you were going to keep making history. 

you were going to be the first american to win the miami grand prix. 

you were going to be the first woman to win two consecutive grand prixes. 

you were going to be the first woman to earn that title of world champion. 

you were going to chase that high. by any means possible. 

and nothing was going to stop you now. 

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“look at him,” lewis hamilton shakes his head, “he looks absolutely pitiful.”

“you think his little relationship is on the rocks?” 

“quite the contrary mate,” lewis remarks, folding his arms across his chest, “i think it’s more like the poor man is depraved. obviously the euphoria has worn off. he’s come down from that high. the man is craving more. plain and simple. a hand can only do–”

“i don’t need the mental image of my team principal wanking off,” george russell scoffs, rubbing his temple, “fuck, that is disgusting, lewis.”

toto wolff stood a few meters away from the drivers, engaged in deep conversation with bono and members of the crew. now that lewis knew the truth, he couldn’t help but notice how much power that american girl held over the team principal. it was almost as if he were deep in a trance, under some sort of spell. 

it was pitiful, really. just the sight of her was enough to send the team principal spiraling, intoxicated off her alluring aura. not like lewis could blame toto, though. there was no denying that the woman was extremely breathtaking. 

with her stunning features, witty mouth, unapologetic personality, and angelic presence, she was practically miss america.

well, not practically. 

she was miss america.  

everyone adored her. lewis could barely go throughout his morning without hearing her name being mentioned. whether it was fans, journalists, social media, even members of the mercedes crew, she was the hot topic of formula one, taking the world by storm.

toto was a lucky man. an extremely lucky man. 

if only she was into men her age. 

“my apologies mate,” lewis nudges george with his elbow playfully, “did we have anything going on today? any obligations?”

george’s brow furrow, sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, “if we’re being honest, i can’t really remember. i think something to do with monster energy, maybe.”

“perfect,” lewis licks his lower lip, fishing his phone out of his pocket. 

time to text that little assistant. 

in all seriousness, he felt horrible for taking advantage of that young girl. she was only nineteen for fuck’s sakes, a fresh face to mercedes at the start of the 2024 season. that made her the perfect target to do his bidding. 

well, it wasn’t really bidding. 

more like investigative journalism. 

at least, that’s what lewis told himself to feel a little less guilty for what he was about to do. 

hey, do you by chance know toto’s schedule today?

seconds later, little text bubbles appear. 

he was meeting with you guys this morning, then he has an interview with the press around two-thirty p.m. it’s nothing super serious, just a brief session entailing his thoughts for the weekend. at four, he has a zoom call with a few of the mercedes execs. after that, he told me he was going to be out for the remainder of the evening. why? 

hmmm. how convenient. 

i was just curious. thanks for letting me know! i appreciate you, natila. 

of course, mr. hamilton! let me know if you need anything else! :))) 

it was now or never. go time.

after the meeting with the mercedes executives, lewis hamilton was going to knock on toto wolff’s door. he was going to stroll into that office, settling into one of those plush leather chairs. and before toto had the opportunity to speak, lewis was going to confront him about that american girl. 

how he was going to start that conversation, he had no idea. that would come to him in time as he went about his day, meeting with sponsors, flashing that lovely lewis smile, flirting with the reporters just a little. not too much so that it was obvious, but enough to make them blush a tad, giggling as they scrambled to stick to their script. 

but for now, it was time to focus on the matters at hand. 

across the track, a dutch driver strolls through the crowds, a jersey in one hand, phone in the other. glancing down at his screen, he curses under his breath at the throng of people. why were there so many people? where did they all come from? 

pausing for a moment, he taps his screen, thumb gliding through his contacts. 

“hey, where are you again?”

“we’re in the williams paddock!” her voice is an octave higher than usual, more than likely from anticipation, “we’ll see you soon!”

“sounds good,” max verstappen stifles a chuckle as he hears a voice on the other end, the words firm, demanding almost.  

“honey, who are you talking to? who’s coming over here?” 

“mom, please, just let me be on the phone for two seconds,” she exhales, “okay, i have to go. i’ll see you soon!” 

the walk to the williams paddock was excruciating, as max had to bob and weave through the masses to avoid reporters, potential sponsors, and any individual who called his name. it’s not like he didn’t like the fame that came with his success, it’s just that he didn’t like the constant cameras in his face. the prying questions. the intrusive comments. 

sometimes he wished he could just blend in, be like any other face in the crowd. yet, how could he when he was max verstappen? 

yet, as he steps into the paddock, he makes out the williams driver, her parents hovering around her as she introduces them to various members of the crew. at the sight, max can’t help but feel the corners of his lips curl into a smile as he notices the sheer and utter pride plastered across their faces. 

and they had every right to be proud of you. 

you earned it. 

“goedemorgen,” max clears his throat, raising his hand for a small wave, “i just came to stop by.”

the instant your mom realizes who is standing before her in the paddock, her eyes widen, lips parting, “oh my gosh – honey. look who it is!” 

“good morning max,” your laughter rings like bells as you cross over to the dutch driver, “how are you?”

“pretty good,” he nods, sticking out his right hand, “hallo, i’m max.”

your dad shakes his hand, squeezing it firmly, “nice to meet ya, max. i’m tony. this is my wife, heather.”

“pleased to meet you,” max beams, turning to your mom, “i brought something for you today. your daughter mentioned that you were a big fan of mine. so, i brought this jersey for you. she let me know your shirt size, so it should fit perfectly. my signature is on there somewhere, but i just can’t quite remember where.”

graciously, heather accepts the jersey, her eyes glossy, shifting to you as she wipes a tear, “oh, honey, you planned this?”

“of course i did,” wrapping an arm around her shoulders, you pull her in for a hug, “i couldn’t bear the thought of you guys attending the race without meeting any of my friends. besides, you deserve an all-inclusive experience at your first grand prix.”

“besides,” max shoots you a wink, “i wanted to meet the woman who crafted such a talented driver.”

at max’s compliment, your mom’s face flushes, “oh please! i can barely make it on the freeway without having a nervous breakdown. i don’t know how she can drive these things. it amazes me how confident she is and–.”

“i could show you,” max offers, “i have some free time tomorrow. i’m sure we could all meet up somewhere and i could take you for a spin, show you the ropes. how does that sound?”

“oh max,” your mom waves a hand, “you do not–”

“but i want to. it’s no issue. no issue at all.” 

“then it’s a plan,” you can’t help but grin as your moms’ eyes light up, “what time works for you, max? since it’s only thursday, we’ll have some time in the morning before the practice laps. or, we could go after. whatever works for you.”

“let’s go in the morning,” max suggests, checking his phone, “i think i can make a few calls. have someone bring in a car. we’ll take it out on the track.”

“is that allowed?” your mom arches a brow, “i just don’t want you two to get in any sort of trouble. 

“oh mom,” you roll your eyes playfully, gesturing to max, “that is max verstappen. whatever max verstappen wants, max verstappen gets.”

“she’s not wrong.”

“okay fine,” your mom nods, and you feel a giggle forming at her overprotective nature. 

“just don’t give me a heart attack out there, max. i have a very important race to watch on sunday.”

as your parents talk to max, alex making his way into the conversation, you feel the buzz of your phone in your pocket. carefully, you fish it out, ensuring to shield your screen from your mom’s wandering gaze. 

this is unbearable. i need to see you tonight. are you going to have any free time? i vaguely recall you mentioning that your parents were going to be here. i will take no offense if you would like to spend time with them. i know you do not get to see them often. 

i need to be inside you, schatzi. i can’t think straight right now because the only thing i can think about is fucking that perfect pussy of yours. 

i miss my golden girl. more than anything. 

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“lewis? this is a pleasant surprise.”

“how’s it going mate?” lewis hamilton bears a quaint smile as he settles into a chair, face-to-face with the team principal, “things going well?”

“eh,” toto shrugs, his head bowed as he types away on his phone, “same old shit, you know.” 

“things going well with the horseback rider?”

oh, so he wasn’t going to drop it. silently, toto curses the attentive nature of his british driver, “they’re fine.”

“so,” lewis leans back, folding his arms across his chest, “when were you going to fess up and admit that your little girlfriend doesn’t ride horses?”

“i don’t understand what you–”

lewis scoffs, clicking his tongue, “i know exactly who your little girlfriend is because she’s a few spaces ahead of me on the grid.”

shit.

the expression painting lewis’ features is brimmed with satisfaction, his gaze piercing right through the team principal as he shifts uneasily in his desk chair, running a hand through his hair. 

toto was well aware that lewis had completely blindsided him, pinning him in a corner. it was quite literally perfect timing, as the team principal was merely minutes away from organizing his things, shutting down his computer, and heading out the door, well on his way to his golden girl. 

well played, lewis. well played. 

yet, he had to maintain his composure. he had to maintain that poker face as lewis cocks his head, prompting him to formulate some sort of witty retort. 

“i’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“bullshit,” lewis shakes his head, “you’re not a very good liar, toto. you of all people should know that i can read you like a bloody book. how long has this been going on?”

well, he had to fess up now. lewis would continue to call him out on his shit if he kept up with the lies. letting out a shaky breath, the team principal hangs his head in defeat, his heart thumping against his rib-cage, wiping his damp palms on his slacks.

no going back now. time to come clean. 

“since she won in jeddah. but if we’re being technical, it started in bahrain.”

“wait,” lewis sticks his hands up, squeezing his eyes shut, “pause. this has been going on since the start of the season? for weeks you’ve been sneaking around, meeting up with her in secret or something? was she the one who came to brackley between melbourne and suzuka?”

with all of the questions pouring from lewis’ mouth, toto’s mind reeled, a swirling torrent of anxiety, fear, and disappointment. his cheeks burn with shame, tinged pink. 

“yes, she was.”

tilting his head, lewis’ lips purse, “you like her?”

“well isn’t that blatantly fucking obvious,” propping his elbows on the desk, he massages his temples with his fingers, “how did you find out?”

“it wasn’t hard,” lewis shrugs, “i mean, i see the way you look at her.” 

toto’s eyes narrow at lewis’ vague response, “how. did. you. find. out?”

“natila texted me about it,” lewis coughs, averting the team principal’s beady stare, “she may have heard a conversation or two.” 

“regarding?” toto presses, satisfaction pumping in his veins as lewis starts to crack, shifting in the chair, “come on, lewis. you can’t just march in here and demand answers from me without sharing your sources. what did natila hear?”

“she heard the entire conversation you had with the drive to survive crew while we were in suzuka. they mentioned that they had footage of you walking over to her motorhome. that’s all natila heard. don’t fire the poor girl,” the words were rushed, breathy, “it was my fault. i asked her what she heard. i told her i would pay her if she told me what she knew.”

“well,” toto blinks, swallowing thickly, “did you end up paying her?”

“only like five thousand.”

“that’s quite a large sum over something you could have just asked me about personally,” clasping his hands together, toto raises a brow, “why didn’t you just come to me instead?”

“because you got so fucking defensive the first time i asked about it!” 

lewis did have a point. 

a good point, at that.

it was not like the team principal would have withheld information regarding his developing relationship with the williams driver. it was more like he feared what would ensue if he did share what had transpired. he trusted lewis, he really did. additionally, it wasn’t like this was just some average woman. his career, her future, and so much more were at stake. the benefits of keeping it all under wraps greatly outweighed the risk of discovery. 

more importantly, he was protective of his golden girl. 

she was his little escape from it all. a breath of fresh air after excruciatingly long nights in the paddock or disappointing days on the track. she was his sun, shining her vivid, warm, golden rays into his dreary and dull life. 

sure, toto was a billionaire. but money was not everything. 

nearly every day, toto’s mind wandered to their time spent together in brackley. the way she felt against his skin. the way her shy smile was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. the way her fingers felt intertwined with his. the way her lashes fluttered as she slept, lips parted ever so slightly. the way his hands roamed her curves, relishing the softness of her. 

that memory alone was worth far more than the number of zeroes in his bank account. 

“you’re falling in love, aren’t you?”

lewis’ voice is low, dangerously quiet. yet, there’s a curious glint in his eyes, the bitterness and anger no longer present. his body language is more relaxed, legs crossed, the driver fiddling with his thumbs. 

“i –” toto stutters, scrambling to find the right words, “yes, i am.”

“does she know?” 

“no,” he inhales sharply, “she doesn’t.”

“you want to tell her though, don’t you?”

“it would just feel rushed,” the team principal dismisses lewis’ inquiry, his voice hardening, “i have to be realistic here. no one falls in love that quickly. that’s just petulant.”

“well look at it this way,” lewis offers, “if you’ve had your eye on her for some time, then it’s really not that rushed. clearly, if you’re feeling those emotions so deeply, then it’s accumulated over time. i don’t want to pry, but how long have you been attracted to her?”

“you don’t want to know,” a chuckle rumbles in the team principal’s chest, “it’s embarrassing, really.”

“no, no, no,” lewis tuts, “tell me, toto. how long?”

“december 2022, when she signed her contract with williams. when i saw that photo of her, i knew i had to have her. last summer, in monaco, i may have slipped up and approached her at the afterparty. i flirted with her, but she dismissed me. so, i kept my distance. however, it was just growing harder and harder to stay away. it was impulsive, that night in bahrain. but i wanted to make a move before anyone else got to her.”

as toto finishes, he can’t help but notice lewis’ smirk, “holy shit, toto. you’ve been wrapped around her finger for quite some time then, yeah?”

“i wouldn’t say that–” toto begins, clicking his tongue, yet, he’s swiftly cut off as a new figure cracks open the door. 

george russell leans against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest. his lips are pressed together, forming a tightly wound frown. 

“way to include me in the gossip session, guys. what did i miss? clearly, quite a lot. if you don’t mind, i would like to join the conversation. toto, would you start from the top? even though i’ve already heard most of it, when were you going to bring it to my attention that you were fucking that bloody williams driver?”

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taglist: @younxii @toldyouitwasamelodrama @kravitzwhore @persona1lies @pucksandpower @k3ira13 @prettiest-at-the-party @martwll @annewithaneofthegreengable @zoeyjadetice2010  @sinners-98-world @laura-naruto-fan1998 @nebarious @joalslibrary @swifth0lic

as always, if i forgot to include you, please let me know! thank you all for the continuous support! i love y'all sm!! <33

[theprettynosferatu]

CW: Non-consensual, Intox (aphrodisiac), Mind breaking.

Two years. Two fucking years of work down the drain. The worst two years of her life, working towards a goal she knows she’ll never see, and all because someone up the chain of command got bribed or threatened or who knows what else. What matters is someone fucking sold her out and now she’s bound up, staring at the gang of absolute sadistic freaks she has pushed herself so hard to infiltrate. 

Shit, the things she has done to be accepted as one of them! Well, “one of them” is stretching it. More like a trusted groupie, she figures. The amount of “slutty, fiery latina” acting she has been forced to do almost makes her throw up. It’s a stereotype and a racist one at that but damn it if these dumb motherfuckers raised by porn didn’t appreciate it, in a sick way. And all of it for a goddamn rumor.

They have this new shit, this kinda spray thing, makes any girl wanna fuck you like crazy… True Love, they call it.

Yeah, right. But still, the chance that such a drug could exist and flow through the streets, paired with some rather bizarre incidents of victims fighting to remain by their captor’s side… it was enough to try and get someone on the inside. And she’s ambitious, young, and most importantly, with the proper… attributes to play the gang-doll. Even now she almost wants to chuckle at the memory of the chief trying to explain that part, fighting so hard not to mention her ass. She’s not dumb. Wasn’t then, isn’t now. Without what she, modesty aside, considers the most spectacular ass in the city, the gang would have never even taken a second look at her. And she wouldn’t be here, now, tied up. 

Fuck. She realizes her mind is rambling, going on tangents, trying to escape the simple reality of the situation. She can’t move, and seven men are looking at her like she’s dessert, discussing exactly what to do to her. 

“Maybe we should use it, you know” one says.

She thinks she’s “it”, for a moment. She realizes she’s wrong as Karl, who has more muscles than brain cells and yet for some reason always calls the shots, removes one of the floorboards. Fuck! She has been in this warehouse dozens of times, looked everyone for evidence of the supposed magic drug, and has always come up snake-eyes. And it’s right fucking there, under the goddamn floor. What the fuck is it, the 1950’s? She’s tried every phone, installed keyloggers on laptops, learned every password- in her head, there had to be some clever operation at work, some devious method to keep such a huge deal secret. Nope. It’s under the fucking floor. She wants to tell them to untie her, just so she can kick her own ass. 

They laugh as they get naked, and a wave of shame crashes over her. She realizes she has seen all of these bodies before, and it makes her sick to her stomach. Sure, men get talkative when bragging and trying to get someone into bed. And men lower their guards after they bust a load- that is, if they don’t just roll over and fall asleep instantly. She has used that, over and over, to get information, to get chances to snoop.

Did she have to, though? That question has haunted her, and now it seems to grow solid, like a rock in her chest. Did she truly have to play up all those stereotypes to become some fucked up fantasy of whatever a hot latina is supposed to be? Did she have to buy all those booty shorts, those cheap jewels, those slutty heels? 

And didn’t a part of her enjoy the attention?

Fuck. Chances are she’ll die here, and she doesn’t want to die a delusional bitch. Yes, fine, being the center of attention felt nice. But the sex? No. That was awful. Pretending to be attracted to these meatheads, doing anything they wanted just so her reputation as a grade-A piece of ass would spread, faking orgasms…

Bull and shit. You’re dying here, Mariana. Stop lying to yourself. You didn’t fake all of them.

She’s yanked away from her little spiral of shame by the loud hiss of spray being applied. They’re passing a little can around, coating their cocks with… 

No. It can’t be real. It just can’t. There is no magic spray. It can’t possibly work. Sure, these idiots might think it does, but in reality, no, True Love isn’t a thing.

The images flow into one another like photographs. She knows, rationally, what is happening. A knife is cutting her bindings as two sets of hands are holding her arms. Her shorts are being sliced, ripped off her. Her legs are being held wide open for Meathead Karl. She files these things in her mind, and feels nothing. She’s there, but she’s not really there. Ah, yes. Dissociation as a defense mechanism for trauma. Mariana has read about it, and now feels mildly fascinated by the experience. 

The pain drags her back to reality. Her instincts kick in, and she braces for the suffering that is to come after that initial opening salvo. She grits her teeth, and…

The pain doesn’t come. She hears laughter as her eyes grow wide, a horrible realization dawning on her. The feeling between her legs is a warm thing, a pleasant thing, slithering up her body, unlike anything she has ever felt before. 

“Starting to hit you, Officer? Oh, this is just beginning”, someone says, his voice coming to her as if from a million miles away. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It’s real. Fucking True Love is real. Her mind reels, the interviews with previous victims rushing in her memories. The way they spoke about their abusers as if they were Gods. The way they defended them. The way they longed for them, like junkies going into withdrawal. She can’t become like them. She can’t lose herself like that. She can’t…

She can’t focus. Her mind is getting fuzzy as the delicious sensation reaches her nipples. Every inch of her skin feels sensitive, overwhelming. A pussy. My whole body is one giant pussy. She has no idea where the thought comes from, but it grows inside her as she squirms and little moans escape her lips. No. Don’t give them the satisfaction. Don’t moan. Don’t move.

“Oh, now you’re getting it. Don’t worry. It will get much, much worse”

Whose voice speaks? She can’t tell. She finds it harder and harder to care. Suddenly, her body betrays her as her hips start moving on their own, seeking pleasure, trying to coax the cock inside her deeper…

She feels on fire. She hates herself, hates how good every thrust feels, how much she needs more and more and more. Thoughts flood her, like a strange invasion taking over her mind. Cock. Cock feels good. Cock feels so fucking good. This is good. This is perfect. This is exactly what I should do. This is all I want. This is all I have ever wanted. Her mission starts to fade away. She can barely recall why she ended up being fucked like a good girl by this marvelous cock, and it feels so unimportant, so insignificant. Only the pleasure matters. She needs more. Her eyes cast around her. Cocks. Big, hard cocks, stiff for her. She starts drooling. The men laugh. She doesn’t care. There are hard cocks near her. Why aren’t they using her?

No. Snap back, Mariana. This isn’t you.

Why not?

Isn’t this better than whatever she was before?

One of the men lowered his body, his cock inches away from her face. She needs to taste it. She needs to wrap her tongue around it. She needs to worship it, body and soul.

“Oh, poor slut wants it?”

She’s not sure she understands the words. But she does understand, with a frenzied animal cunning, the desire behind them. They want her to beg. Some distant remain of sanity is pleading with her not to give in, not to surrender her voice, to keep some small part of her true self. It screams in vain.

“Please… give… cock…” she manages to mumble between moans.

“No. Not yet. You see, officer, your mind might be going, but your body is learning very fast. It’s so open now… And we intend to keep you around for a long time. No quick sell for you. So we need to… train you a bit”

Mariana knows the man is talking. The words don’t reach her until he starts playing with her nipples, and a single word takes over her entire existence.

“Cum”

She shakes. She screams. Her entire body is reduced to a single, shining sensation of absolute pleasure. She can feel something inside her breaking, giving in. She pants and a part of her expects the sensations to subside, but they don’t. If anything, the constant pleasure grows, leaving her right at the gates of another orgasm. She tries to grind, to move, to use the cock inside her to cum again…

“Not without permission, toy”, someone says. She almost manages to squeak out a complaint, but the stimulus is too strong. All she can do is squeal and moan.

The world swirls around her, colors heightened, bleeding into each other. She never wants to go back to the gray, solid, difficult past. She wants to stay here, be this- be pleasure.

“Cum”

Yes. She cums, and nothing else matters. This is all she needs. All she exists for. Her eyes are unfocused, her mouth hanging open. She feels the cock touch her lips before she even consciously sees it. The imperative is immediate. Suck. Lick. Take it deep in your throat. Use your tongue, pressure with your lips, the vibrations of your moaning. Use everything you are to please cock. 

“Cum”

Every time it gets stronger, going beyond whatever she ever thought possible. No mind can hope to withstand such a tidal wave of pleasure. As soon as she realizes they’re starting to move her, she hops up. The men don’t have to tell her what they want from her. She wants the same thing. She’s just holes. Holes need to be filled with cock. She impales herself on Karl’s dick and leans forward, letting him suck on her sensitive nipples, leaving her asshole ready, eager. She’s presenting herself like an animal in heat, and she’s loving every second of it. She’ll do anything to keep feeling like this, forever.

“Ass…” she manages to say.

“Not good enough, cunt. Come on, you can use your words better than that”

Words. Words for cock. Words to make cock happy. They own her words. They own her mind. They own her body.

“Please… use my ass… fuck my tight little hole… ram it hard! Wreck it! I need it so bad, need it so bad, need you to take me, take my ass, make me cum, never let me go, please please please…”

Even the pain feels good. Everything feels good. Humiliation feels good. Their mockery feels good. Their spit on her skin feels good. Obeying feels good.

One cock in her ass, using it with no care for her or any pain it might cause. One in her wet cunt, driving her mad. One in her mouth, using her like a breathing fleshlight. One in each hand, the promise of cum to come. This is it. This is bliss. This is heaven. This is all any woman could ever desire. This is home. 

“Such a good fucktoy…”, one mutters, trying to hold back his own orgasm.

The word infects her. Fucktoy. It starts overwriting everything inside her. Fucktoy. Her police training crumbles in her memory. Fucktoy. Her memories of her family fade away, forever. Fucktoy. Her hatred for cruel men vanishes. Fucktoy. Fucktoy. Fucktoy. It is all she is. All she has ever been. All she ever wanted to be. She’s mumbling it in between taking cock in her mouth. It rises like a gigantic obelisk in her mind, ruling over her, conquering all.

Fucktoy.

“Cum. Cum. Cum.”

Wave after wave of pleasure overtake her, crashing into each other, blasting away all that was and all that could ever be.

By the time she gets back something resembling consciousness, warm cum is coating her skin. She can feel the wonderful jizz inside her holes, taste it on her tongue still. She must have swallowed it. Like a good fucktoy. She feels so proud, so valuable, so beautiful. She made cocks cum. She was good. She was useful.

“Officer, remind me… what were you looking for?”

She looks at the man like a confused puppy.

“Cock?”

“I see. And what’s your name?”

She straightens up, full of pride. This one she knows.

“Fucktoy!”, she smiles.

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work and get access to the full library at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

[moonkkives]

POSTER GIRL

“oh my god, my god, somebody stop her.”

( fem! f1 driver x f1 drivers; love interest tbd)

“ let me distract you ”

FAU #21

in which — alana fautrier ventures into the path of being the only female formula one driver and makes history.

“technically speaking, alana’s rise to formula one shouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone. the girl was pure dynamite.” will buxton explained, “however, when you consider the fact that she is only one of five to ever enter a race and the only one to do so since 1992 . . .” he paused, and then chuckled. “it kinda becomes a big deal.”

“ just a girl growing ( red bull ) wings ”

( i. ) masterlist — headcannons ;;

O1 / driver’s profile & racing background

O2 / personality traits & characteristics

O4 / charles, pierre & alana ; the childhood best friends

O5 / carlos & alana ; the spanish bombshells

O6 / max & alana ; the fiery teammates

to be continued . . .

( ii. ) masterlist — one shots ;;

to be continued . . .

status: on going

all rights reserved

copyright © moonkkive

est. 2O23

[ciginatree]

Pretty- Vinny Mauro x female!reader

Content Warnings: fluff, smut, unprotected p in v sex, language, teeny bit of angst. 18+ MDNI.

Word Count: 2k

Author's Note: Okay, this is my first one shot I have ever written so please give me feedback. Also it's unbetaed so... yeah. Enjoy!

This story is a complete work of fiction portraying a real person or persons in a fictional situation.

“Seriously?! You expect me to believe that you think I’m pretty?” You yell at the man before you.

“Yes! Because you are pretty!” Vinny gestures wildly at you.

“Bull. Shit. I don’t believe you.” 

Vinny groans in frustration as he drags his hands through his hair, pulling at the strands in annoyance. “Why? Why is it so hard for you to believe me?”

“Because I’ve seen the girls at the meet and greets! I’ve seen the girls you follow on Instagram! You’re more delusional than I am if you expect me to believe that I’m even half as pretty as any of them!”

Neither you, nor Vinny, could pinpoint exactly how long you two had been fighting in his hotel room, but it felt like hours. It might as well have been. At this point you were just chasing each other's tails, resorting back to the same points and reasoning. An unstoppable force versus an immovable object. You had been touring with the band for the past few weeks, working as an assistant sound tech. You had toured with them once before, and you and Vinny immediately hit it off. There was just something about him that you were instantly drawn to, but you immediately smashed and trashed any feelings that might develop. As much as your heart yearned to pursue him romantically, you knew logically it just wasn’t possible. You needed this job, you couldn’t risk losing it over a crush.

At times, you thought that maybe he could feel the same way about you. Instances where you caught him looking at you before quickly looking away, sometimes he would sit just close enough so you were touching knees or shoulders. But Vinny’s flirty with everyone, that’s just how he is. So you didn’t even dare to get your hopes up. You tried not to anyway.

Now, you bring your hands to your face, shrieking angrily into them briefly before holding them out in front of you. “I can’t deal with this right now. I’m going to get a drink or something.” You turn to walk out of the hotel room, but you only make it two steps before a strong, calloused hand grips your wrist. “Vinny, what the fuck-” He cuts you off by yanking you towards him. Placing a hand on each of your hips, he backs you up into the wall with a thud. He tilts his head so his lips brush the cusp of your ear, his warm breath puffing into your hairline.

“Why don’t I show you how pretty you are?” Your heart is pounding in your ears and you’re panting from the proximity. His body heat is radiating off of him and seeping into you. He brings his head back to look you in the eye. You glance at his lips before crashing yours into his. The kiss is fiery, passionate, and breathless. The lips you’d thought about kissing for months were parted and warm against your own. A soft whine of a noise escapes from the back of your throat and Vinny groans lowly in response. Finally, you both break apart, panting for air. Only a moment passes before Vinny dips his head down, attaching his kiss swollen lips to your neck. You gasp and tilt your head back against the wall as he caresses your pulse point with his lips, fingers flexing against your hip bones. The quiet noises you make are driving him crazy and he works faster leaving a wet trail of hickeys and love bites along your neck. 

“Vinny…” you whimper quietly, bringing a hand up to tangle in his dark curls, tugging softly at the roots. His hair is still damp from his post show shower, a drop of water rolls from the base of his hair and down your arm. He leaves one more sloppy kiss below your jaw before drawing back to look at you again. His pupils are wider than you’ve ever seen them, and he’s breathing heavily. Vinny kisses you again, slower this time, but no less passionate. He swipes his tongue tentatively across your bottom lip and you part them, meeting his tongue with your own. There is no fight for dominance, just a slow movement against each other. Savoring the feeling. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Vinny groans in between kisses. He presses in tighter against you and you can feel his erection digging in just above your core. The kiss becomes sloppy, a tangle of tongue, lips, and teeth as you start to grind against each other. Sultry moans and pants fill the space between you and a dull ache blossoms between your legs. Vinny breaks the kiss momentarily to catch his breath before he returns to your neck, not kissing, but simply nuzzling his lips and nose into the bruises he painted there.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” he rasps into your skin, “I think I’m going to fuck you slowly and sweetly to show you just how pretty you are, and then I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

You pause for a moment, the lust filled fog breaking momentarily to bring a moment of clarity to your situation. What if he sees your body and changes his mind? What if this changes things between the two of you? Fuck, what if someone finds out and you lose your job? Vinny notices your hesitation, he furrows his brows slightly, hoping he didn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable. Gently, he pulls back, bringing a hand up to brush his fingertips along your cheek.

“You’re allowed to say no, sweetheart.” Your eyes snap back up to his, and any doubts are immediately blanketed. The look in his eyes is so sincere, so intense.

“I want this. I want you to fuck me Vinny.” The corner of his mouth twitches up and hunger sparks in his eyes.

“Jump.” Vinny quickly snakes his arms underneath you as you wrap your legs around his waist. He briskly walks you both to the queen bed in the corner of the hotel room, dropping you onto the mattress. He rips his shirt off, tossing it god knows where before grasping the hem of your top, lifting it over your head. He returns to you, devouring your lips like a starving man. Lifting one hand to cradle the back of your head, Vinny leans you both down onto the pillows, sinking down on top of you. As he kisses you he trails the fingertips of his free hand along your side, brushing the skin lightly, exploring it. He sweeps his hands up to your bra, kneading and cupping your covered breasts as he revels in the melody of your moans. “Can I take this off, baby?” His voice is low and breathless.

You nod in response, arching your chest to give him access to unhook the bra. His hands draw the straps down your arms and Vinny’s breath escapes him in a quick exhale at the sight of you. His hands draw subconsciously to your tits and his eyes don’t leave your chest for a second as he begins to work your nipples between his fingers, stiffening them to hard peaks. You gasp and arch your chest further into him. “Fuck,” Vinny whispers under his breath, barely audible. He slides his hands down and away from your breasts to unbutton your jeans and you slide down his pants along with his boxers in return. Now that you're both fully naked, Vinny leans back, absorbing every aspect of you. The city lights filter in through the gaps in the curtain, brushing your body with a kaleidoscope of colors, blending with the warm glow of the bedside lamp across your face. He groans, losing himself in the sight. “You’re better than anything I could’ve ever imagined.”

 He returns his palms to your breasts, running the pads of his fingers over the very tips of your now almost painfully sensitive nipples, teasing you. You squirm and whine at the contact that was not nearly enough to satisfy you. He smiles, chuckling lightly to himself. “Mmm, you like that, baby?” 

“Fuck, yes Vinny. Stop teasing I need you to fuck me.” You writhe under him, grinding your hips up in an attempt to gain some of friction. Any kind of relief. He shifts his hips back before you can make contact.

He smirks down at you. “Say you’re pretty.”

“What?”

“Say you’re pretty, then I’ll fuck you.”

“Vin seriously-” you cut off with a gasp as he pinches your nipples.

“I won’t fuck you until you say you’re pretty.”

You relent, dropping your head back onto the pillows with a huff. “Fine. I’m pretty.”

Vin smiles warmly down at you as he threads his fingers with yours, clutching your hand on the pillow beside your head. He places a soft, lingering peck on your lips and rests his forehead on your own. “You’re more gorgeous than you will ever know.” 

He pulls back just enough to grab the root of his dick, lining it up with your entrance. Slowly, he pushes the tip in, moaning in unison with you. He waits a moment before pushing in further, then pulling back. Rocking back and forth, bit by bit pushing further until he’s completely inside you. He presses his head into your shoulder, moaning your name softly, pausing to allow you to adjust to the feeling. He then draws his hips back slowly, both of you relishing the pull of his cock along your walls. Vinny begins to find a steady rhythm, rocking in and out as you both moan, pant, and whimper against each other. You wrap your free hand around his shoulder while the other one remains grasped tightly with Vinny’s. 

“Fuck you feel so good Vin,” you whimper, tilting your head back against the pillow as you rock your hips up to meet his thrusts.

“So- mnh- so tight babygirl. Fuck you’re so perfect, so perfect for me.” He speeds up, thrusting harder into you as you both start to glisten with beads of sweat. You slide your hand up from his shoulder to brush the hair out of his face, gripping the crimson and chocolate locks against his scalp. Vinny takes a moment to appreciate the sight of you; eyebrows furrowed together with your mouth dropped open in pleasure, chanting his name like a prayer. He shifts his weight onto the arm that’s holding your hand, bringing his now free hand down to your swollen clit. He rubs fast circles on the hard bud before repeatedly strumming it lightly with his fingertip. “Shit!” Vin gasps as your pussy clamps down harder around his cock. 

You moan lewdly, a sultry noise escaping you as you arch further and buck your hips. Wrapping your legs around his back, your mind blanks and all you feel is overwhelming pleasure. The warm pressure building deep between your legs feels like it’s going to release at any moment. “Vin, fuck, I’m gonna- I’m gonna c-cum!” you pant desperately. You feel a heavy twitch of his dick inside you and you know he isn’t going to last much longer.

“Fuck, me too. Cum with- ahh- cum with me.” Vinny relentlessly pounds into you as you release. Your pussy clamping down on him as you convulse and cry out in an echo of Vinny’s name. Your back arches violently and your hand grips his hair like a vice. Vinny groans out a strangled shout of your name as he buries as deep into you as he can get, spreading his warmth into you. Dropping his head to pant into your shoulder, he clutches your hand like you’ll disappear at any moment.

Spent, you lie limp together, breathing shakily with Vinny still deep inside you. Slowly, he removes his head from your shoulder to capture your lips in a dizzying kiss. Fuzzy and fucked out, all you can feel is Vinny. A whine escapes you as he slowly pulls out, flipping you over gingerly so you’re resting on his chest. His heartbeat is thumping gently against your cheek, lulling you further into relaxation. Vinny strokes your hair as you doze off, holding you against him with his other arm. As you fade into sleep, you hear Vinny whisper into your ear: “You’re my pretty girl.”

[velocesainz]

Hii I saw you asked for ideas, it might sound weird but maybe a max x reader story about him falling in love with reader when hes with Kelly still and them breaking up and choosing reader? Idk fluff,smut whatever i would be interested no matter what😌

Sounds quite interesting, hope you enjoy!

F1 masterlist | Main masterlist | Taglist

We're meant to be

(MV33)

Summary: Max and y/n are co-workers and good friends. Max develops feelings for her while he is dating Kelly. What happens when Kelly finds out about Max's feelings?

Warnings: none, fluffy

Pairing: Max x driver!fem!reader

Third person POV:

Ever since y/n joined Red Bull racing, there had never been a single moment of sadness.

Y/n was loved by one and all. She was an icon in so many people's eyes.

Her and Max were the greatest duo the paddock had ever seen. Winning races upon races, most with a 1-2 finish with both alternating top position.

They were an odd pairing for sure. Fiery rage paired up with calm and collectedness? Unheard of.

Max POV:

I was walking around the paddock when I bumped into y/n who was holding a massive camera in her hands and interviewing people around her.

"Oh hey Max! Are you excited for today's race? Who do you think will win?" She asked me in her most 'formal' voice.

I chuckled and responded "I am quite excited for today's race, Belgium is like my second home. I would say I will win today but something tells me otherwise" I added that last line since she was looking at me as if she was going to murder me if I didn't say she would win.

"Thanks Max! Catch you later" was all she said before she skipped away happily.

God she's so beautiful. She's kind. It gives me butterflies.

Wait...

Am I...

In love?

I've never felt this with anyone, not even Kelly. I mean she's nice and all but I don't think she's the one for me.

How will I break the news to her? I'll have to figure out.

Kelly POV:

I was looking around for Max when I saw him talking to y/n, who was interviewing him by the looks of it.

After she left he kept staring at her and started blushing. Was he in love with her?

It wouldn't be very unlikely. He hasn't really been very affectionate lately and he's been spending more time with either her or Penelope.

I feel like he's falling out of love with me.

How can he recklessly fall in love like that? I'm his girlfriend!

I have to get him to stop interacting with y/n, otherwise I'll lose him. I need him for the money, I can't lose him at any cost.

Y/n POV:

I felt Max staring at me as I left or maybe i was imagining things. I am so madly in love with him I might be delusional, but he loves someone else.

I sigh and continue interviewing people as I was told by Martin Brundle who was trying to make a fun behind the scenes episode for sky sports.

Timeskip:

I got out of the car and stood proudly on top of my car, my 5th race win this season and I was officially in the lead in the drivers championship.

After podium celebrations I was making my way to my driver's room to relax for a bit before interviews when I heard some yelling coming from Max's room.

Being the curious person I was, I eavesdropped.

Max POV:

I was relaxing in my room after a decent race, P2 was a pretty good result.

Suddenly the door slammed open revealing my angry girlfriend, oh god this was going to be hell.

"Stop talking to y/n from this instant on." She said curtly.

"Who are you to tell me who I can talk to and who I can't huh?" I snapped back

"IM YOUR FUCKING GIRLFRIEND. WHO IS LOOKING OUT FOR YOU! I SEE THE WAY YOU LOOK AT HER-" she screamed.

"WELL JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE MY GIRLFRIEND DOES NOT MEAN THAT YOU GET TO CONTROL MY LIFE! AND YEA MAYBE I LIKE Y/N SO WHAT?" I yelled. This girl is getting on my nerves.

"SEE YOU ADMIT IT YOURSELF! YOU LIKE HER! EVEN WHEN YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND! HOW SHAMELESS CAN YOU BE?" She continued

"You know what? I'm done. Done with this relationship. You've never been supportive ever. It's as if you're with me for my money and that it. So kindly get the fuck out, gold digger" I was so happy to get all the feelings against her off my chest.

She looked at me in disbelief and walked out.

Y/n walked in right after Kelly left. Did she hear the argument?

"Are you alright Max? That argument sounded intense" she asked with concern showing in her eyes

"Yeah. I'm alright. Did you..uhm hear what we argued about?" I questioned

"Uhm...yea" she replied shyly

God I loved this woman so much

I walked up to her and kissed her.

The world seemed to fade away. I had the woman of my dreams in my arms I was never going to let her go.

[charlesslut16]

-friends to lovers-

summary : you and max were friends until you were not..

PAIRING : max verstappen x fem!reader

WARNINGS : +18, oral sex (female recieving), dirty talk, badly translated dutch, curse words, unprotected sex (be safe!)

masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Max and you were friends. Only friends. Nothing more than that. It has always pained you, that you couldn't be more. But you knew that Max didn't like you more than that.

You were in the Paddock, walking with Daniel in the Red Bull garage, to see max drive. Daniel and you walked in to the garage, greeted everyone, and stood next to Christian and Daniel. And then Max came in.

You had been ignoring him for hours now. You looked into his direction and felt a pang in your chest, as you saw him talking to some girl, that worked on the Paddock. Why didn't he look your way?

When he was just about to walk you without looking at you, he caught your arm and pulled you in to his driver's room. You gasped when he pressed you against the wall. Your furious eyes shot to his, in them... pain.

You snapped your head away and looked at everyone and everything else BUT him. He turned my head, when he laid his hand on your chin, his heart beating erratic in his chest.

"Why are you pretending I don't fucking exist!?" He asked, obvious hurt in his tone. You finally looked at him, but your face expressed no emotion. Your lips, not forming a single word. And that was when he lost it.

He grabbed you lightly by your throat, holding your chin up, pulled you closer until your chests touched, which earned a sharp take of breath on your part and growled.

"If you are angry at me, do shout at me. Slap me, kick me, punch me but don't EVER ignore me, shat"

Your fiery eyes connected with his, when you snapped. "Fine! You want me to talk. Here it fucking comes. The fucking truth why I ignored you." You pushed against Max's chest, hard enough that he's tumbled back a little.

"You fucked that girl, you talked to before!" you screamed, tears burned in your eyes.

"But you already know that, I mean you were there. It as your bed. Fucking her deep, like she has told me."

"I did not do such a thing!" He snapped back, anger burned in his chest. "I would never fucking do that. Not when i-" A humorless laugh escaped her and interrupted me. 

"Yeah right. You would never fuck a gorgeous woman with a good body and sense of humor."

"Oh I would." he replied deadly, her head furiously snapped in to my direction.

"But you would be the woman underneath me, shat. De enige vrouw, die ooit onder mij zal zijn, prinses." The only woman, who will ever be underneath me, princess.

He leaned in closer, our hard in takes of our breaths were mingling. 

"And I would fuck you until you see lights, that you have never seen before. Ik zou je van achteren meenemen totdat mijn naam het enige is wat je nu bent." I would take you from behind until my name is the only thing you're now. He rasped.

Before you could say anything further, he pressed his mouth onto yours. Groaning when he finally tasted you. It was what you had wished and starved for, a very long time.

He brought his hand to your waist, so he could pull you to his couch. He stopped kissing you and shoved you on the bed. You laid on the bed looking at him, wondering what he would do next.

As you wanted to say something, Max stopped you with a kiss. At that exact moment, you knew you were damned. He pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in a bra.

Then he opened his jeans, pulling his belt out and tying your hands together. Then he opened your jeans, pulled them down, throwing them on the floor next to the couch.

Next were your bra and thong. You gasped, as Max pulled his boxers down, revealing his cock. He looked in your face, smirking as he saw the look on your face.

He kneeled on the bed in front of you, his knee between your pantyhose. Max pulled you up a bit more, so he was also in the bed. He kissed your thighs, gave you some hickies, licking your soft skin afterwords.

He went down to your pussy, looking up at your face, seeing id you had pleasure on your face. You looked down at him, wondering why he stopped. You nodded, as you saw his face, asking for consent.

As he saw your face, he licked your pussy until you were almost having an orgasm. Max stopped, looked at your face, red and teary, as he had taken his cock in his hand, lined it up with your pussy and thirsted into you. You felt full.

A long moan escaped your lips, as he thrust into you, hard and fast. Moans left your lips and tears were spilling from your eyes of the pleasure Max gave you.

His thrusts started slowing down and seconds later he came in to your pussy, hard and fast. His cum spilled into your pussy, filling you up to the brim. Fast after him, you came too. Having the best orgasm you have ever had.

"Ik zei je dat je de vrouw onder me zou zijn, mijn lief. De enige vrouw. Nooit." I told you that you would be the woman underneath me, my love. The only woman. Ever.

This was the first orgasms of many. Let's just say you both didn't get that much sleep that day and night.

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

This is my contribution to the @harringrove-relay-race ✨ Thank you @chrisbitchtree for passing the baton ❤️

Dangerous Girl

Bull Rider Billy & Buckle Bunny Steve (CW: feminization, barebacking)

Also on AO3

The buzzer sounded and Steve blinked for the first time in a little over eight seconds.

Just like every other time, it had been the longest eight seconds of Steve’s life.

He watched as Billy seemed to effortlessly jump off of the wildly bucking bull before running a few yards to safety. Steve felt his entire body unclench, only becoming aware that he’d tensed every muscle as they released, achingly slow.

Fiery blue eyes caught Steve’s and he felt himself freeze again. Pinned by the heavy gaze that was interrupted only by the guard of a helmet.

Billy should’ve looked ridiculous as he took off the helmet, shaking out the blonde curls of his mullet and grinning wickedly. Except he really didn’t and Steve’s heart raced as Billy licked his lips, eyes still locked on Steve, causing all of the buckle bunnies around him to titter excitedly.

They all thought Billy was eyeing them. That they’d be the lucky one to ensnare The Billy Hargrove.

Steve knew better though.

Knew that no matter how hard he tried to fight it, that’d he’d be the one warming the bed in Billy’s travel trailer yet again. It happened every time Billy came back to Texas.

Steve would be drawn to whatever rodeo circuit Billy was currently dominating. Would hang on Billy’s fence just like those desperate buckle bunnies. He’d then make his way to the local bar and bend over the pool table to flirt shamelessly with Eddie or Argyle or whichever other bull rider was willing to put themselves into the line of fire that night. Eventually Billy would have enough and drag Steve out and fuck him six ways to Sunday.

He didn’t know why he bothered trying to convince himself that it wouldn’t happen.

It’d been happening since they were teenagers and Billy was just touring the local circuit. It didn’t matter how terribly he’d broken Steve’s heart when he’d signed up for a PBR membership at 18 and taken off to tour the entire continent, leaving Steve behind in their small, backwoods, Texan town.

The moment Billy had been back in Texas, Steve had dragged Jason and Robin to an event three hours away in Dallas just to let Billy defile him in a bar bathroom because they couldn’t make it out of the bar. Jason and Robin had not been amused on the drive home the following day.

He’d seen how they’d eyed Eddie and Heather though. They didn’t have much room to talk.

He drove the two and half hours to Houston a few days later by himself, just to do it all over again. He followed Billy to every single Texas show, turning around and heading back home just to wait another year then rinse and repeat for the last four years.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Billy broke eye contact and shuffled out of the arena. The spell broken, Steve removed himself from the fence and started trudging out towards his truck to drive himself to the local bar.

He was busy watching the way his boots kicked up dirt with each step which is why he let loose a scream when he suddenly found himself being yanked backwards and slammed up against a travel trailer. Steve’s scream was muffled by plush lips pressing against his, stubble scraping the sensitive skin of his face as fingers tangled in his hair.

Steve melted into the kiss, the familiar smell of Billy’s sweat and cologne hitting his nose just as his tongue forced its way into Steve’s mouth. Steve whined into the kiss as a strong hand grabbed his thigh and hiked it up so that their hips could press together a little tighter.

Hands lifting to grip the leather vest tightly, Steve finally found enough will power to push Billy back just enough to get some air.

“What the fuck, Billy?” Steve gasped, head thunking back against the metal of the trailer.

He was saved from the pain of collision by Billy’s hand cradling the back of his head.

“Couldn’t wait for all the bull shit at the bar,” Billy admitted, panting. “The way you were hanging on my fence with your fucking tits out almost got me bucked two seconds in.”

Steve glanced down at his chest where he’d left his pearl snap button up undone obscenely low. It was the same amount of buttons Billy usually had undone when he wasn’t buttoned up for riding. It was only fair.

“I don’t hang on your fence,” Steve muttered, rolling his hips and grinning when Billy cursed and stopped cupping the back of Steve’s head to plant it against the trailer.

“Don’t lie to yourself, princess,” Billy hissed, rocking against Steve in a dirty grind. “My own personal buckle bunny, getting wet just from watching me ride.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, Billy,” Steve scoffed, eyes fluttering closed as they continued to rut against each other slow and filthy. “You’ve got plenty of bunnies to choose from.”

He’d meant it as a jab at Billy but Steve felt pain lance through his chest at his own words.

“Don’t care about any of them,” Billy grunted, burying his face in Steve’s neck and mouthing at the sensitive skin. “You’re the only bunny I care about hanging on my fence.”

“Bullshit,” Steve whimpered as Billy bit down.

“Bull true,” Billy mumbled, dropping his hand from the trailer and grabbing Steve’s other thigh.

Steve jumped so that Billy was supporting all of his weight and his already skin tight wranglers became suffocating. Billy gave Steve’s neck one last bruising suck before lifting his face to kiss him senseless again.

Letting his hands wander to plant against Billy’s drenched button down, Steve felt the strong muscles shifting under the fabric and sighed into the kiss. Fuck, he’d missed Billy. Only getting to see him a few times a year wasn’t enough and Steve yearned for more.

“It’s just you, Steve,” Billy breathed as he pulled away, pushing his sweaty forehead against Steve’s. “You know that, right?”

Steve hoped against all hope that it was true.

It’d been just Billy for him since he was 14 and Steve’s family moved to the sad little town of Hawkins, Texas.

“Then take me to bed and prove it to me, cowboy,” Steve dared, smiling when Billy’s grin turned sharp.

Billy pulled them away from the trailer and started marching along the length of it until they were inside. The smell of horse, cologne, and something quintessentially Billy that had Steve clenching in anticipation.

When Billy reached the steps to his bed, he set Steve down letting him climb up the short ladder and slapping his ass for good measure. Steve turned around to glare and was met with Billy’s self-satisfied grin.

“You knew what you were doing when you put on those jeans, princess,” Billy said like that explained everything.

It did.

Steve sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his elbows as he watched Billy climb up onto the raised area that constituted the trailer’s bedroom. Billy paused at the edge of the bed, kneeling between Steve’s knees

“You wet for me, princess?” Billy asked, sliding his palms up Steve’s denim clad thighs, eyes burning as he looked up at Steve.

Nodding, Steve bit his lip as he considered telling Billy just how wet he actually was. He wanted it to be a surprise though.

Billy gently removed Steve’s boots with an ease that never ceased to amaze Steve. He felt like he was going to war every time he tried to take them off himself.

He slowly moved on to Steve’s belt before working on his button and fly. Billy was moving so slow it was painful and Steve’s dick twitched as the pressure of his tight jeans released. With a smirk, Billy teasingly pulled down Steve’s jeans and briefs before settling back between his thighs.

His broad shoulders forced Steve’s thighs apart far enough to make his hips twinge. Steve held his breath in anticipation as Billy kissed his way up the inside of one of his thighs before parting Steve’s cheeks with his thumbs and choking.

Steve bit his lip against the smile fighting its way across his face as he felt Billy’s breath stutter against his dick.

“Fuck me,” Billy breathed reverantly as he dipped a thumb inside of Steve’s already lubed and stretched hole.

Steve groaned at the sensation of finally being filled, back arching against the bed.

“Watching me ride really got you fucking soaked, huh?” Billy asked, voice thick and gruff as he dipped a couple of fingers inside of Steve.

Gasping and falling back against the bed, Steve whined as Billy stroked his prostate with gentle pulses of his fingertips.

“Need you in me,” Steve pleaded, pitchy and whiny in the worst way as he squirmed. “Been thinking about it all day, waiting for your ride.”

“I can’t -“ Billy cut himself off as he shifted around, yanking his boots and clothes off in a flurry that contradicted his slow, teasing approach from moments before. “I can’t do foreplay right now, princess.”

Billy flushed at the admittance, tossing his last piece of clothing to the floor and grabbing Steve’s thighs. He hauled Steve up the bed and situated himself so that he was hovering over him, lining up and looking at him in askance.

“Don’t need it,” Steve whispered, grabbing Billy’s pendant where it was dangling in his face. “Need you in me right now.”

Nodding, Billy lined up and pushed in tenderly. His face was red, veins popping as he tried to hold himself back.

Steve didn’t want him to hold back. It’d been months. Steve wanted the raw, desperate, reconciliation sex they always had. The kind that made his toes curl.

“Give it to me, cowboy,” Steve demanded, tangling his free hand in Billy’s curls.

“Christ, princess,” Billy moaned, his eyes fluttering closed as he allowed himself to fuck into Steve fully. “You got me so fucking pussy whipped.”

It was a gross statement, practically a line if he really thought about it. The way Billy had said it, like a confession had Steve feeling split open and unmoored.

“Yeah?” Steve checked, running his fingers through Billy’s curls.

“Yeah,” Billy croaked, eyes opening to gaze down at Steve.

Steve nodded to show he was ready and wailed as Billy started to fuck into him without abandon. He had to drop his grip on Billy’s necklace for fear of ripping it from his neck with how forceful his thrusts were.

It was the same, toe-curling, eye rolling rhythm they always had but something was missing and Steve couldn’t put his finger on it.

He didn’t have long to consider it as Billy angled his hips down so that he was brushing roughly against Steve’s prostate with each quick thrust. Steve looked up to gauge how close his head was to hitting the wall when he saw it.

“No hat?” Steve gasped, his voice nearly breaking, making Billy freeze as he gaped down at Steve.

It was silly, but Billy always wore his hat when they met up at the bars afterwards and Steve was feeling a little off kilter due to its absence. Billy’s surprised expression slowly melted into a lascivious smirk.

“Is that what does it for you?” Billy asked as he grabbed the black Stetson off its hook above the head of the bed.

He plopped it on top of his dirty, sweaty curls before quirking a teasing eyebrow at Steve.

“Shut up and fuck me, cowboy,” Steve mumbled, face flushing as he squeezed Billy’s hips with his thighs.

“As you wish, princess,” Billy agreed, before fucking into Steve so hard that he jolted up the bed.

Steve moaned, hand flying up to brace against the wall so that his head didn’t slam into it. He grinned up at Billy, hiking his legs higher on his waist to allow Billy to deepen the angle.

It was like a lightning storm every time they came together and Steve was helpless but to give in. It only got more overwhelming as Billy started running his mouth.

“We’re gonna go the bar after this,” Billy promised, breathless with exertion as he continued to fuck into Steve at a ridiculous pace.

“My cum’s gonna be dripping from your pussy when you bend over the pool table like a slut.”

Steve whimpered as he imagined it. Feeling Billy’s cum slide out of him as they hung out with their friends.

“Everyone always wants a piece of you,” Billy grunted, hands twisting in the sheets on either side of Steve’s head. “But everyone will know you’re my bunny.”

The crackling electricity of arousal hummed insistently in Steve’s belly.

“How?” Steve asked through stuttering breaths as Billy’s hips snapped into his at an unparalleled pace.

“Gonna put my necklace on you,” Billy panted, mouth dropping wide and tongue wetting his bottom lip as he struggled to keep his insane rhythm while coming down from the adrenaline rush.

Steve’s hand flew back up to the necklace in question, tightening up reflexively around Billy.

“Shit,” Billy choked out, eyes screwing shut as he trembled above Steve. “Pussy’s so fucking tight.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked, wrapping a hand around himself, orgasm buzzing close at seeing just how overwhelmed Billy was.

“Yeah,” Billy breathed, letting his eyes open so he could look at Steve again. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

“Show me how pretty I am,” Steve demanded softly, muscles tensing as his fingers and toes tingled. “Cum in my pussy.”

“Gonna fill you up,” Billy promised gruffly, rhythm growing sloppy. “Make you mine.”

Whimpering, Steve started stroking himself faster as he practically vibrated out of his skin.

“Come on, cowboy,” Steve urged, screwing up purposefully tight. “Show me who I belong to.”

“Belong to me,” Billy groaned, fucking into Steve impossibly harder, hand flying up to cradle Steve’s head so he didn’t hit it against the wall. “My princess.”

“Yes,” Steve agreed, vision blurring around the edges as his toes curled against Billy’s back, shocks of arousal sparking through his veins dangerously.

“Only one who gets to fuck this pussy,” Billy grunted, trembling above Steve as his eyes widened and his breath started to stutter.

“Only one,” Steve promised, voice going high as Billy fucked into him just right. “Give it to me.”

“Oh fuck,” Billy groaned before his breath caught.

Steve watched his muscles strain as Billy shook above him and Steve felt a shock of warmth spill inside of him.

Moaning loud and obscene, Steve gave in to the lightning bolting up his spine and through his limbs as he came all over his belly in strong bursts. The sensation of Billy’s thrusts getting sloppier and wetter had him clenching reflexively causing them both to whine.

Billy fucked him through the aftershocks of their orgasms as Steve’s muscles went limp and Billy’s breathing caught up. He slowed his thrusts to gentle rocks and Steve released Billy’s pendant and grabbed him by the hair and pulled him into a kiss.

Obliging easily, Billy slipped his tongue past Steve’s lips and let himself explore as he trailed callus rough fingertips up and down Steve’s thigh. Steve let himself relax into it fully, sinking against the mattress.

He hummed as Billy pulled back just enough to look at Steve’s face. His fiery gaze burned through Steve despite how gentle it was. Steve would never get enough of it.

Steve whined softly as Billy pulled away further, but settled as Billy fiddled with his necklace. Steve lifted his neck so that Billy could close the clasp and fell back against the bed once it was in place against his chest.

Billy stroked an exploratory finger over the pendant where it rested against Steve’s chest before pressing his weight down on Steve once again.

“Join me on the circuit,” Billy whispered, tilting Steve’s face so that he was staring directly into Billy’s fiery blue eyes.

“Billy,” Steve protested, eyes fluttering closed as he fought the itch in his nose that signaled oncoming tears.

They went over this every time. It broke Steve’s heart more and more each time. He didn’t know how Billy could stand it.

“Not now,” Billy amended, nudging their noses together. “In a couple of months when you graduate.”

Steve sighed and let his eyes flutter close. He’d be officially done with college in just a few short months. He’d be expected to start working for his father in just a few short months so he could take over the company eventually.

Could Steve survive eight or more years of only seeing Billy for a handful of days each year?

He opened his eyes to stare up into Billy’s, the absolute certainty and love reflected back at him making the decision for him.

“Okay,” Steve relented, grinning softly at the pure, unadulterated joy that spread across Billy’s face.

Billy whooped, grabbing Steve’s waist and rolling them over so that Steve was straddling his waist. Billy took his hat off, plopping it on Steve’s head and smiling so wide it had to have hurt his cheeks.

“The boys are gonna be so jealous when they find out I locked down the prettiest buckle bunny on the circuit,” Billy gloated, eyes glimmering with unbridled glee.

“I don’t think you’re allowed to call me a buckle bunny if we’re actually together,” Steve scoffed, smacking Billy’s shoulder.

“I can if you keep hanging off my fence, looking the way you do, watching me win all those buckles,” Billy teased, biting his tongue when Steve pinched his side.

Rolling his eyes, Steve readjusted the Stetson on his head and Billy’s gaze went molten.

“Looks good on you, princess,” Billy whispered, callused hands running up Steve’s thighs.

“Yeah?” Steve asked, rolling his hips back against Billy’s twitching dick.

“Mmhmm,” Billy hummed, grabbing Steve’s hips and holding him in place as he grinded up against his ass. “Think you should wear it while you ride me.”

Steve gasped as Billy’s cock settled between his cheeks, their rhythm growing harder and more frenzied.

“Think I’ll last all eight seconds?” Steve teased, whining as the head of Billy’s dick caught on his rim.

“Only one way to find out,” Billy challenged, guiding himself back into Steve and sliding home.

Steve made it significantly longer than eight seconds and left Billy wheezing about how Steve should upgrade from being a buckle bunny to a bull rider.

Please look forward to the lovely, wonderful, and amazing work from the next contributor, @imsodishy.

[footprintsinthesxnd]

You’re My Girl

Rhett Abbott x reader

Synopsis: Rhett has always been stubborn and will stop at nothing to ride at the rodeo even with an injury. But after a fight with his wife leads to her being injured Rhett realised what is more important to him.

Warnings: mentions of injury, swearing, couples fighting, descriptions of hospitals

“YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS?” Rhett shouted, shoving his chair harshly under the wooden kitchen table. “YOU’RE KIDDING ME!”

“Rhett, please just listen. I didn’t…”

“You didn’t what? You can’t ask me to not ride. You know how much this means to me.” Rhett sighed, running his hand through his unruly brown locks, “when we got married you promised you’d support me in everything. You promised and…”

“I DO SUPPORT YOU, RHETT!” You cried, hot tears streaming down your face, your voice hoarse from arguing with your stubborn husband. Rhett had injured his back hauling bales in the barn but refused to back out of the rodeo on Friday. You loved your husband dearly but he was stubborn as hell when he wanted to be and this was one of those times. Rhett paced back and forth in front of the table, his boots hitting the wooden floor aggressively. You knew you were pushing your luck but you desperately wanted Rhett to rest up. He’d been on strong pain medication from the doctor so he could get out of bed in the morning but he wouldn't stop. How was he expecting to ride a bull? You stood from your seat, rounding the table and coming face to face with him. “Rhett, please. I’m not trying to hold you back, I’m trying to help you. Your back has had you in agony all week. Please just miss this one out, rest up for the week and maybe you can ride the following week. I love you and I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Rhett glared at you as you reached towards him but he stepped back, holding his hand up to stop you. “I need this win and you know that better than anyone. I can’t believe you’d ask this of me.” He grabbed his hat from the table and stormed out the front door. You watched as the door ricocheted into the wall with a loud thud. Sinking back into your chair, your heart sunk and you finally allowed yourself to cry, shoulders shaking as you released the sob you’d been suppressing. You’d always hated arguing with Rhett, it wasn’t that his temper scared you, he was known for being fiery, you just hated seeing him hurting. The footsteps shuffling behind you made you turn as Perry and Cecila poked their heads around the corner, looking at you expectantly. You just shook your head, watching as your tears fell onto the table, seeping into the wood like the ink on the pages from the love letters Rhett had sent you. He’d always write you a little note before each of his rides, telling you how much he loved you. It was how he’d proposed. He wrote you a note and told you to read it when he’d won and as the scores came up on the board you’d read it, ‘will you be my girl?’ You had looked up over the crowds of heads to where Rhett stood in the arena, ring box in hand as he shouted, “so what’s your answer, Darlin’.” You smiled at the memory. Those had been happier days when everything was less stressful. Now you had to worry about the Tillerson’s advances on Abbott land, the fact that Perry had killed Trevor, the fact that your husband was on a suicide mission, let alone the secret you’d been keeping for weeks. Cecilia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You did everything you could, my Rhett’s stubborn sometimes. He will never learn.”

“But what if it’s not enough,” you wailed, looking helplessly at your mother-in-law. “What if it’s not enough?”

——————————————————————————

The rodeo arena was packed when you arrived and you struggled to find a seat where you could all sit. In the end, Perry had to balance Amy on his knee while you and Cecilia squished on either side of him. You wanted to see Rhett before he rode but Cecelia advised you against it.

“You know how he gets when he’s like this. There ain’t no good trying to talk him out of it.” She was right of course, she was his mother after all but you could help the growing discomfort in your stomach as you wait for him to ride. Royal had gone down to see him and you could see the two men talking. Rhett looked uncomfortable and Royal kept trying to support his son but in true Rhett fashion, he pushed the help away. You fiddled with the sleeve of your jacket nervously, watching as more and more people flooded into the already packed arena. By the time Rhett was ready to ride you were a nervous wreck, palms sweating and heart racing. You’d had to stop yourself multiple times from getting up to tell the judges that Rhett was injured and couldn’t compete but you knew if you did that he'd never forgive you. You watched as the bull hurtled out into the arena, throwing your husband around like a rag doll. Perry gripped your hand tightly and you squeezed it in return as a thank you. He knew how stressed you felt when Rhett rode and although he was generally awkward around you he always tried to comfort you in times like these. As the buzzer sounded you let out the breath you’d been holding, relieved that his first ride of the night was over. Cecelia went to grab some drinks, while Perry and Amy chatted amongst themselves. You got up from your seat, moving down to the metal railings to try and catch another glimpse of Rhett. He was talking to one of the other riders but you could tell by the way he was standing that his back was causing his pain. You were so caught up in what Rhett was doing that we didn’t see the loose bull come charging out into the crowds. People were shouting, pushing and shoving to escape the animal's wrath. The crowd swarmed towards you, shoving you harshly against the railings. Pushing with all your might you freed yourself, tripping and falling into the dust below with an almighty crack, your arm bent underneath you as your head connected with the ground. Searing pain shot up your arm, burning through you as you gasped for air. It was complete agony. Your arm hung limply at your side as you rolled over, avoiding people’s footsteps and propping yourself up against the railings. You could hear the Bullfighters herding the bull back into the chute, thudding hooves against the rough ground and shouts of men filling the evening sky. You blinked, trying to focus on your surroundings but the pain caused your mind to fog, eyes blurry as you tried to make out your surroundings. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear Rhett’s voice calling your name. You called out to him weakly, willing him to find you. The blurry figure approached you, kneeling and grabbing your face in their hands. You knew it was Rhett, even without seeing him you knew. Your body responded to his touch and you tried to sit forward but he held onto you, stilling your movements. Rhett's voice was full of anxiety as he spoke to you, his voice wavering as he tried to keep his emotions at bay. He pulled you into his lap cradling you close to his chest as he whispered to you comfortingly. “It’s ok, Baby Girl I’ve got you Darlin’. It’s gonna be ok.” You could hear him shouting frantically to Perry and the second set of legs appeared next to you. Everything was muffled and the pain in your arm only progressed until it was blinding, everything was growing darker and all you could hear was Rhett’s voice fading into the distance.

——————————————————————————

Rhett had never been so scared in his whole life when he saw you collapse against the railings as the crowds of people pushed past. He’d run like his life depended on it, bringing you into his arms and cradling you against him. You had a large gash on your forehead and you held your arm against you, whimpering softly as he maneuvered you into a more comfortable position. Everything had happened so fast and before he knew it you were led in the backseat of Perry’s truck heading to the nearest hospital, his final ride completely forgotten. You looked so pale and Rhett felt helpless as you lay unconscious in his arms. Cecilia had ordered him to keep pressure on the cut on your head and the bleeding had now slowed. His mother had given him a small smile before he got into the truck. “She’ll be ok Rhett, she’s a fighter.” Those words circled around Rhett’s head as he watched your lifeless frame. Rhett shouted at Perry to drive faster which caused his brother to run three red lights and nearly got them killed crossing a junction. ——————————————————————————

The hospital was quiet when they arrived and a nurse ushered them straight into a room where Rhett placed you carefully onto the crisp white sheet. You looked as sickly pale and Rhett gulped audibly, trying to control his ragged breathing. The on-call doctor soon arrived and began asking questions but Rhett couldn’t concentrate, his brown eyes stayed fixed on your feeble frame. Perry spoke to the doctor but all his words jumbled into one, the harsh beeping of the heart monitor, the chatter of the doctor and Perry, and the buzzing, flickering light above your bed all blurred into white noise. Perry had to all but drag Rhett out of your room. “You gotta let the doctors do their work, Rhett. You're no good to her now.”

In the waiting room, Rhett sank into the squeaky chair. It had been well used with rips and the leather flaking and Rhett wondered how many family members had sat in this waiting room, just waiting for the news of their family. How many people had cried and mourned, how many had celebrated? Rhett had always wondered what it must be like sitting in the waiting room, wondering how people had felt. He had never been on this side of an accident, normally it was him led in that hospital bed while you sat here fretting. He hated that he’d put you through this feeling time and time again.

The room was no bigger than the hay barn of the ranch and was well-lit with fluorescent strip lights hanging from the ceiling. Rhett's adrenaline from the evening was dimming and he could feel his eyes trying to slip closed but between the bright lights and Perry’s leg tapping incessantly against the floor he had little hope of the rest he was seeking. It felt like an eternity before the doctor appeared in the doorway, white coat on and clipboard in hand. “Mr Abbott?” The tall elderly doctor asked. Rhett could tell by his uninterested tone that he’d been doing this for years, he didn’t even bother looking up from his notes. “Your wife sustained a transverse fracture to her right arm, several broken ribs and she has a concussion.” He continued reeling off medical jargon that left Rhett staring blankly at him, trying to comprehend the complex terminology. “She will be fine and the baby looks to be fine too.” Rhett’s heart stopped. The baby? The doctor left swiftly, leaving Rhett staring into the abyss.

“Rhett, you good?” Perry placed a hand on his brother's shoulders, watching as he swayed a little, with the adrenaline gone and the shock of the news Rhett’s knees buckled and Perry steered his brother back towards the chair. Rhett’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to regain his composure, trying to calm his nerves before facing you. How did this happen? Rhett knew very well how it happened. After his last rodeo win, he snuck with you to his truck. He always felt horny after a win but this time it was different, you were just as mad for him as he was for you. Rhett thought back to that passionate night, windows steamed, naked frames pressed together, your soft whimpers as he pounded into you seeking his release. Rhett’s face was a little flushed when he looked back up at his brother. “I’ve gotta see her.” With that he stood, taking long strides across the room and out into the hallway.

——————————————————————————

As Rhett entered the room he couldn’t help the tears that pricked his blue eyes. You were sat up in bed, plum-coloured bruises littering your face, stitches placed in a neat line along the cut on your forehead and your right arm balanced in a sling. Due to having broken ribs, the expansion of your chest was feeble, but you still gave your husband a small smile.

“Rhett,” you whispered and he was by your side in an instant, clutching tightly onto your left hand. “Oh god Baby Girl, I’m so sorry.” Rhett could feel pressure building behind his eyes as the tears threatened to fall. He tried to blink them away and stay focused on you, but the tears trickled down his face regardless. You could tell he was doing his best to keep his emotions at bay. He was trying to be strong for you like he always did.

“It’s not your fault,” your voice was weak and croaky and Rhett instantly reached to give you a glass of water which you accepted and drank gratefully.

“This should never have happened. It’s my damn fault, if I hadn't been so stubborn we wouldn’t have even been there and you would have been ok.” Rhett was trying to reason with you but you just shook your head.

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry, Baby. I never want you to feel like I’m holding you back, I only want what’s best for you and I want you to be safe.” You were crying now too so Rhett perched on the edge of your bed, pulling you close as you cried into his shirt. “Shh, don’t cry Darlin’, it’s all gonna be ok.” Rhett couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the baby. It was such a foreign thought to him. A baby. You were having a baby and he would be a father. Ever since you two had started dating you both knew you wanted a family, but after several years of marriage and nothing to show for it, Rhett had assumed that it wasn’t on the cards for you both and he’d accepted that. He was just glad that he had you. When you composed yourself a little, you pulled away to face your husband. “I’m so sorry… I d-didn’t tell you about the b-baby,” you stuttered, still trying to catch your breath from crying.

“It’s ok, Baby Girl, it’s ok. I was just a little surprised, that's all.”

“I was going to tell you after you won tonight, well I was going to tell you even if you didn’t win but I knew you’d win,” you laughed lightly, “but then you hurt your back and I was scared you ride and hurt yourself and I’d lose you and be on my own and…” you continued to ramble but Rhett stopped you, pressing his lips firmly to yours. You melted into him, gripping hold of his shirt as he deepened the kiss, cradling the back of your head gently.

“You're never gonna lose me ok, Baby Girl.” You smiled at the nickname he’d given you when you first started dating. “You're my girl, remember.”

“I’m your girl,” you repeated, taking his hand and placing it against your still-flat stomach. “You know soon you might have two girls.” Rhett chuckled, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and laying you both back against the hospital bed. “Maybe I will but don’t worry, you’ll always be my best girl.”

Tag list: @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @blue-aconite @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @alexxavicry @a-reader-and-a-writer @topguncortez @maggiescarborough @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @sunlightmurdock @basiccortez @airedale17 @callmemana @shadowolf993 @t-nd-rfoot @topguncultleader @flyboyjake @rhettabbotts @hederasgarden

[vermutandherring]

Gottlieb Miura for @aniraklova Bachelorette Challenge

Gottlieb was born and raised in a small town near Tartosa, which was famous for breeding fighting bulls. As a child, he often teased these powerful animals for fun, pitting his agility against their strength. But one day he was unlucky, after which young Gottlieb was left with a glass eye and scars. But this incident did not weaken his fiery nature. A dreamer with the soul of a rebel, he could not obey the will of his parents, who saw their son as the successor of their business and a successful entrepreneur.

In search of himself, Gottlieb dropped out of college and went to try his luck. Playing guitar in a garage, working as a bouncer in a strip club and as a millwright on a rolling mill, a carpenter's assistant and even a florist - he seemed to have tried everything, but nothing appealed to his nature, which yearned for something truly big, worthy of his temper.

One day his girlfriend, a girl from a rather religious family, persuaded Gottlieb to join her at an Easter service. It seemed that on that day, the Holy Spirit really descended on his unbelieving head: among the gray heads of the parishioners and the sweet singing of the choir, Gottlieb finally found what he was so attracted to. The ghostly and powerful voice of the pipe organ captured his mind.

Numerous educational institutions, the Philharmonic, exams and, finally, the first concerts - he spent a lot of time to master this majestic instrument. It seemed that he had everything in his life: business and romantic trips, his passion and various forbidden and not so good things. But these 10 years of training turned the windy Gottlieb into a terrible perfectionist, who is ready to explode with rage if something does not go as he would like.

Turning back, he saw how many girls he had broken the heart with his fickleness, his lack of attention, his sometimes unbearable character. Or maybe he just didn't meet a person for whom he would be willing to change?

This thought crossed his mind as soon as he saw those big eyes staring at him from the neon screens of the big city. "Yasmine…" he drawled, and then sighed. Those eyes really looked like one solid problem, their opaque depth looked too dangerous. It seems that he has never felt such adrenaline, even looking into the bloodshot eyes of a bull and seeing death in them.

"Dating show? Does anyone still make them these days? Being on a show…" No, he wasn't used to being a test subject. This whole idea is one big scam, and most likely the young lady wants to grab another piece of fame. But isn't he the same - an adventurer who is willing to leave everything to find what he really wants? Even if everything is determined in advance, he will not lose the chance to try himself. And let his success not be determined by his own luck this time: he is ready to compete with Yasmine's luck.

Privat DL

[justsome-stars]

“Not quite there.”

Shadowpeaches - 1400+ words

A forced proximity/“just one bed” trope fic. Basic, I know, but i had fun writing my favorite gay doomed monkeys.

NOTE: positions and directions are very intentional within this, and it’ll become apparent why if you can figure it out. I just can’t exactly explain without spoiling it lol. Also some art (DONE BY ME!) is included at the very end <3

Story below the cut!

The group had been staying over at Sandy’s boat, more specifically in what they described as Mk’s “secret hideout.” It was fairly decorated, not neatly by any means, but with everyone there it felt a little too crowded for Macaque’s taste. Regardless, he stayed. It made the kid happy, was his explanation, or rather, his excuse.

Wukong stayed on the opposite side of the room from him for most of the night, almost glued to the kid’s side, but a palpable tension between the simians hung heavy in the air. If Macaque wasn’t mistaken, it seemed to bother both Pigsy and Mei. The dragon girl gave him side eyes every so often, as if to check he hadn’t run off. Which he hadn’t, but she must have felt the need to keep him in check. Pigsy was less discreet about his annoyance, a mild scowl encroaching on his face whenever he were to look at Macaque.

The warrior disregarded it, however, focused on the television screen beside Sandy. Mk was currently beating Redson’s game avatar to a pulp within Monkie Mech, which was rather amusing to watch as the fiery redhead bull-boy exploded with rage, mashing controller buttons in a frenzy.

Mk yawns, which seemed to infuriate the demon more, but Macaque could tell it was more than a playful jab. The kid must be tired. Wukong seemed to notice it as well, as dense as he may seem, and leaned into the kid’s side.

Eventually, the group had decided it was time to retire for the night, the group divided into who would stay in which room. And of course, Wukong and Macaque were lumped together, under the pretense that “it's the only other room, so they would have to share.” It was a load of bullshit, from what Macaque could tell, but he was far too tired to protest. He left towards the room, not before giving Mei a glare. She smiled deviously in return, to which he knew his assumption that this was her plan was correct.

Wukong grumbled behind him, seemingly cursing his luck, but followed the warrior into the spare room. They both take immediate notice of the fact that there was only one bed, to which Wukong let out a dramatic gasp, followed by a groan. Macaque rolls his eyes in annoyance, choosing to sit on one of the lone chairs by a small table.

They fall into an uncomfortable silence, Wukong standing at the side of the bed.

“I’ll go sleep on the couch.” Macaque abruptly announced, readying a portal to jump through.

“No.” Wukong quickly interjected, “Just…sleep on the dang bed. We can be civilized for one night. I mean, I sure can.”

Macaque bit back a retort, grumpy trudging towards the right side of the bed. “Fine.”

“Fine!” Wukong responds, brows knit together in a scowl. He sat on the left side of the bed, tail lashing.

They fall back into a silence, adjusting pillows and lying with their backs to one another. They don’t speak, leaving Macaque to focus on the sounds of water lapping at the boat just outside.

Wukong shifts a few times beside him, causing Macaque to sigh in annoyance.

“What? I can practically hear your internal dialogue from here. What is it, Wukong?”

“I just—” He hesitated, “Just…”

“Just what?”

“Do you still have the…” he paused, the bed shifting beneath them as Wukong raised a hand to his ear, or maybe it was his eye?

“Yeah? It’s not like I can easily replace them.” The warrior answered his king, begrudgingly. He supposed an open ended answer would take care of this and they could go back to silence. But he was sorely mistaken.

“Can, um. Can I see?”

“I don’t know, can you?”

“No, no! Stop being annoying!”

“You first!”

There was a bang on the wall above the headboard, from one room over. They halted the escalation in tones, falling back into a warry silence.

“May I see?”

Wukong didn’t receive an answer, the only sound now was the sea outside. He felt a shift in the air, not all physically, but in Macaque’s presence. He had lifted his glamours, which Wukong only felt it fair he did so, to even the playing field. He turns slowly onto his back, to find Macaque had done the same, staring blankly at the ceiling.

White hair framed the half of his face that faced the King, messy and un-groomed, his ears barely visible against the pillow beneath his head. Deeply inset gashes sprout from his eye, scarred over but all the more terrifying. One sector of the scar, above his eye, dug through his brow, leaving a slit that had never grown back.

His dulled eye was glazed over, a soft lavender hue, as though it had never changed since death. Regardless of his blinded state, he kept his gaze transfixed on the blank ceiling.

Wukong reaches forward, a claw almost grazing Macaque’s hair, before a tail wraps itself around his wrist, acting as a restraint. The tail itself was spotted with white, much like his hair, in patches resembling outcroppings of icicles. The grip of Macaque’s tail lessens, slipping away and allowing Wukong to move freely again.

He raises his hand again, burying it in Macaque’s unruly hair and grasping the side of his face, avoiding touching any of his scars. Macaque’s breath hitches, body freezing at Wukong’s touch.

With his head resting in Wukong’s hand, he finally realizes that he was not the only one who was vulnerable. The king’s eyes, rimmed in cerulean and glowing with an enchanting crimson and gold mixture, bore into his without any vacillation. They simply gravitate towards one another, content to be within safety and comfort with one another.

“Still as beautiful as I remembered..” Wukong whispered with a sad, soft smile. There was no trace of mockery or ill intent. His words bled with honesty, the kind that scared the warrior.

Macaque stills at the sentiment, endearment he hadn’t heard in over a century, or even longer. In all honesty, he had believed he never would hear it again. Yet, he was proven wrong. Oh so very wrong.

“Don���t lie, damn it.” The shadow pulled Wukong’s hand away, but not quite letting go.

Wukong’s brows knit together with confusion. Just how obvious did he need to be?

“‘M not lying, Mac.”

“…”

Wukong grumbled, raising a brow in Macaque’s direction. The jaded monkey in question didn’t respond, turning over onto his side with his back to Wukong, serving only to annoy the Sage. He bites his tongue, knowing that it would only lead to a screaming match if he pressed any further. He himself turned over, curling in on himself with a shiver.

It was cold in the room, unfortunately, and the blankets didn’t provide much heat. He can feel as Macaque twitches beside him, standing before returning back to the bed with something in his hands. A jumble of fabric was held out to him, to which Wukong hesitated before accepting. He slipped on the sweatshirt, settling back into the blankets.

If he knew any better, he would have seen the small smile tug at Macaque’s lips. The Warrior made no attempt at reapplying his glamours, far too tired it seemed. But once he settled back into the bed as well, he felt a chill crawl up his spine. His skin prickled against the cold air and he regretted giving away his hoodie. That was, until he was offered one in return. He recognized the teal stripes on the sleeves almost immediately. He holds it in his hands for a moment, limited gaze observing the fabric of the well loved clothing.

He slipped it on, finding that the sleeves were rather short on him, in comparison to Wukong. A soft tsk escapes him as he lays back down, throwing the blanket back over himself. He picks a stray strand of hair out of his mouth as his tail slips closer to Wukong’s, nudging it slightly.

The king blinked, rather surprised by the sudden touch, but took it nonetheless, their tails intertwining beneath the blanket.

They both quieted, no sudden movement from either of them as they began to fall asleep, lulled by the sounds of evening breathing.

By the early hours of the morning, they found themselves wrapped closely together, a hand somehow shoved in the others face, or even in a pocket, but they didn’t make any attempt to escape from eachothers hold, only adjusting to comfortably fall back asleep.

(ART DONE BY ME, JUSTSOMESTARS!)

[phantom-playdough]

Red Son x GN!Reader: Happy Birthday!

My 20th birthday has passed and I wanted to celebrate with a fanfic. I promise I will work on the small list of requests I have piling up, but this red baby needed a fanfic. I guess this is my [very late] birthday gift…?

IF THERE ARE ANY PRONOUNS THAT ARE NOT GN FOR READER, LET ME KNOW AND I WILL FIX IT ASAP.

Red Son was sat at her desk with about a dozen crumbled up and/or torn up pieces of paper that were filled with scribbles flooding every surface around her.

She was trying to prepare for her significant other's birthday. However, the task of coming up with something to give Y/n was proving to be more difficult than Red Son accounted for.

After around two hours, Red Son decided to take a small nap...okay that's a lie. What actually happened is that Red Son passed out on her desk mid-scribble on her papers.

~~~~

"Red Son?" She just about shot up fin her seat, at first thinking that it was Y/n beside her. However, it luckily just appeared to be her father, DBK.

"F-father!? What are you doing in here? I-it's still early in the morning!" Red Son said, clearly confused as her father was FAR from a morning person.

At this, The Demon Bull King blinked once or twice. He clearly was confused as well. "Red Son, I came down here to tell you that it was time for dinner."

...

Silence for a beat or two.

After a moment or two of quiet, Red Son groaned loudly and face-planted onto her desk.

DBK felt a sweat drop, feeling around ten times more concerned for his hot-headed child.

"Nothing is GOOD ENOUGH!!" Red Son yelled, her hair igniting into flames.

Not sure of what to do, DBK patted Red Son's shoulder gently. "Uh, there there...?" He said, uncertainty leaking from every syllable.

Despite the crappy way to try and comfort someone, Red Son somehow felt it start to help as she slowly relaxed. This could be guessed because her flaming hair calmed itself, as well as how she peeled her face off of the table and her expression was just glum instead of full of rage, like before.

"Red Son, what is troubling you?" DBK asked, the effort he was making was strong and commendable despite how poorly it could be seen as.

Red Son sighed lightly. "Y/n's birthday is coming up in four days and I...I just CAN'T think of what a good gift for them could be! I swear this is more impossible than scheming to taking over the city!!"

DBK could empathize. "Well, Red Son, maybe you should stop trying to figure it out on your own and ask your mother for help. Or perhaps you could ask the noodle-boy and dragon-girl for advice." DBK chuckled. "I am afraid I will not be able to help much, though."

"Huh, why not?"

"I once gave your mother asparagus for our anniversary. I...am not sure I could help you if I wanted to." DBK explained, a little embarrassed at having to admit a blunder like that to Red Son. DBK patted her shoulder again.

"But, whatever you decide to give Y/n, make sure you put your heart into it." DBK then turned and left, leaving Red Son with her thoughts.

"Put your heart into it..." Red Son mumbled. She wrote those words down before deciding to ask around.

~~~~

Well, Red Son had asked everyone, and I mean EVERYONE she knew, about what to get Y/n. Some of the advice was good. Macaque mentioned to get them something that will always make them think of Red Son. Tang and Ne zha both said to get them something personal, but useful.

Some of the other advice Red Son received was not as constructive. Like, how Wukong had suggested a gift that would not and SHOULD not be said in front of a room full of children. MK and Mei were really random with their gift ideas, but almost everyone said something similar at the end of the day:

"Put your heart into it."

These words swirled around in Red Son's fiery head so much it felt like the world was spinning.

But finally, it was time.

Y/n was seated across from Red Son, enjoying a small dinner at their apartment that Red Son INSISTED on cooking.

"Um, Y/n, I-I have your gift." Red Son said, pulling on her collar nervously. "C-could you close your eyes for me, dear?"

Confused, but compliant, Y/n agreed and did as told. Red Son fumbled with getting the box out of her inner coat pocket, but got it out without tearing up the wrapping paper, luckily.

"Alright, open them."

Y/n did just that and was greeted with a bright red wrapped box. The bow of the box was a vibrant (Favorite color), the bow shining in the light. It was almost a shame to rip the wrapping off, but it needed to be done.

Y/n began to tear off the wrapping, revealing a box (red of course) that was velvety. With a confused glance at Red Son, Y/n opened the lid of the box and gasped as they saw a picture frame. It was a picture frame in the shape of a big heart, a small slideshow of photos Y/n and Red Son took together playing on a loop within the frame.

"I-I wasn't sure about what exactly to get you, but I just thought that I could...put my heart into it?" Red Son began to trail off as he saw Y/n was starting to tear up. "Y-Y/n? What's wrong? Is it not right? I-I just--!" Y/n cut Red Son off and launched themself into her arms.

"It's perfect. You're perfect, Red Son. I love it. I-I-I love you. Thank you." Y/n said softly as they fought back the tears. Red Son had to fight the sudden surge of emotion as the love of her life held onto her for dear life.

Red Son smiled and placed the picture frame on the coffee table next to the pair. The two of them then spent the longest time looking at the photos slide onto the frame, enjoying the memories and the moment with each other.

The End~~~!

[intheticklecloset]

You Like Him! (Black Clover)

Collab w/@giggly-squiggily!

Summary: Asta figures out that Yuno has feelings for Leopold Vermillion, but Yuno isn't willing to admit it without some encouragement.

A/N: AHHHH this was so fun to work on! Collabing with my friend Squiggily is always a fun time! We were both feeling Black Clover lately and decided to do a two-part series where I wrote for her ship and she wrote for mine! I think it turned out really cute!! ^^

To read her story, click here! (There will also be a link at the end of this fic.)

Word Count: 2060

~~~

Yuno prided himself on keeping his cool at all times. Never showing if he was flustered, shaken, upset, or anything else. He rarely even showed when he was happy. People didn’t know how to read him, and he liked it that way.

“You’re a tough one to beat, my rival,” Leopold Vermillion said grandly, hands on his hips as he grinned down at Asta, who was sitting beside Yuno. The two of them had tried to take a few minutes to catch up before going back to their respective headquarters with their squads, but as usual, someone had come to interrupt them.

Not that Yuno minded this one. Not that he’d let himself smile up at the redhead who wasn’t even looking at him.

“So are you,” Asta replied to him now, leaning back on his elbows and smirking. “But I won’t quit! I’ll surpass you and Yuno and everyone to become the Wizard King!”

Leo laughed in that particular Vermillion way and gave Asta a thumbs-up, turning to catch up to his sister, who was screaming at him to get back in line. “I won’t forget it – and right back at you, my rival! See you next time.”

Yuno watched him leave, proud of himself for not giving away what was going on inside of him while in the presence of the fiery young noble.

Until he felt Asta looking at him, and he turned to see his best friend squinting at him in that way he did when he knew something was up, he just hadn’t figured it out yet.

“What?” he asked dryly.

Asta stared at him for another long moment, then his lips curled up into a grin that put Yuno on edge.

“You like him!” Asta declared.

Yuno rolled his eyes and darted his eyes away, willing his ears not to burn and give him away. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I didn’t know you liked guys.”

The wind mage hunched his shoulders in an involuntary flinch, turning his head away entirely. “Shut up, Asta.”

“No – wait, that came out…weird. I don’t mind! I think it’s great!” There was a brief pause, and then Asta put a hand on his shoulder and made him turn at least part of the way around so he could see his profile. “Hey, you know you’re my friend no matter what, right? I support you regardless of who you like.”

It was clumsy, but it was Asta, and Yuno felt himself relax. He nodded once in acknowledgement. “I know. Thanks.”

Asta let out a relieved breath, then punched him playfully and reiterated, “But you like him!”

“Again, shut up.”

“How long? What is it about him? I want to know everything!”

“No.”

“Oh, come on,” Asta whined playfully, shaking his shoulder now in an effort to be annoying enough to get his way. “I’ve told you everything about Sister Lily!”

“Never said I wanted to hear any of it,” Yuno replied with a smirk, and then before his friend could sputter an indignant retort, he shrugged his hand away and said, “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

Somehow, that only made Asta more indignant. “What do you mean, it doesn’t matter?”

“It just…doesn’t.” Yuno glanced in the direction Leo had gone, silent for a moment. “He doesn’t exactly have eyes for me.”

Asta was silent too. Then, “What – you think he likes me? Don’t you think I’d notice if someone had feelings for me?”

Yuno couldn’t help but turn to face him incredulously. Was he serious right now? Thoughts of that royal girl from the Black Bulls flitted into his mind, but before he could dwell on them, his friend was talking again.

“He doesn’t like me, Yuno. And even if he did, I’m pretty sure I’m not into guys, so it’s not like I’d be competing with you there—”

“Shut up, Asta.”

The anti-magic boy was beaming so wide at this point it was a wonder his face didn’t split in half. “You’ve got it bad, Yuno! Pleeeeease tell me about it?”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Don’t tell me you’re in denial!”

Yuno resolved that saying nothing was probably the best route at this point. When Asta got fired up about something, the only way to ride it out was to keep quiet until he burnt out his own flame.

At least…that was usually a good enough retreat.

“At least admit you’ve got feelings for him,” Asta tried.

Yuno tensed. This was probably bad. It was probably very, very bad for him. He darted a glance at his best friend’s expectant gaze, then away again. He swallowed. The thing was, he wanted to say it. He wanted to talk to Asta about it. He just…couldn’t. What was the point, when he didn’t know if Leo even liked guys, too?

Asta let out a low whistle. “Wow, Yuno. You’ve got it really bad, don’t you?”

The wind mage wanted to tell him to shut up again, but it was no use. His friend was on a roll now, and he’d lost the battle against his burning ears a long time ago.

The hand on his shoulder was back, and Asta’s voice was surprisingly gentle as he said, “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll help you loosen up enough to get the words out.”

It was a trap.

Yuno turned to look at him again just as fingers pinched his side, making him press his lips together to keep the squeak in, his eyes widening.

“Don’t,” he pleaded even as Asta reached for him again, this time succeeding in getting a snicker out of him. “You idiot, dohohohon’t!”

Asta reached for him with both hands now, squeezing and scribbling into his sides, and despite his best efforts, Yuno couldn’t help but break into a grin and giggle softly. He gripped his friend’s wrists and tried to push him away while squirming out of his grasp, but the second he thought he was getting away, his best friend – who knew him and all of his spots all too well – grabbed onto his leg and squeezed his kneecap.

“Hehehehey!” Yuno snickered, forced to either take it or try to fight him off again and choosing the latter. He leaned forward to push him away, and that’s when Asta really struck.

“Gotcha!” the smaller boy declared triumphantly, tackling Yuno to the ground and swinging a leg over to straddle his, fingers digging into his sides ruthlessly.

Yuno gasped and burst into more consistent giggles, unable to squirm nearly as much thanks to Asta’s weight on his legs. “Ehehehehehehehe! Dohohohohohohon’t!”

The anti-magic boy grinned down at him. “Feeling loosened up yet, Yuno? Hmm?”

“Nohohohohohohohoho!”

“Don’t worry – I’ll get you to admit your feelings eventually.” Asta smirked and slipped a sneaky hand up Yuno’s shirt to scribble at his lowest set of ribs teasingly. Yuno squeaked and arched to try and escape, but it was all for naught. “Hehe, still a good spot, eh? Tickle, tickle!”

If Yuno’s ears had been burning before, they were an inferno now. He instinctively covered up his face with one hand while frantically trying to push Asta away from his ribs with the other. “Dohohohohon’t dohohohoho thahahahahahahat, Asta!”

“Hmmm?” Asta hummed teasingly, pulling Yuno’s face-covering hand away and scribbling into his now exposed ribs at the same time. “Don’t do what?”

“You knohohohohohohow whahahahahahahat!” The wind mage couldn’t help but let out a snort when Asta tweaked his bottom set playfully. His friend’s face lit up like a sunrise, and Yuno whined through his increasing giggles. “Nohohohohoho, plehehehehehehease! Ahahahahahahasta!”

“Just admit it, Yuno – you’ve got it bad for Leeeeeeo~” Asta giggled along with him, scooting up so he was straddling his friend’s waist now, both hands under the taller boy’s shirt to tickle his skin directly. Both of them knew from years of experience that it was a surefire way to get him to give in.

“Shuhuhuhuhuhuhut up!” Yuno pleaded, snorting again, trying uselessly to twist away.

“Nooooope!” Asta was being purposely annoying, and it was only making everything tickle so much worse! “You liiiiiike him! Just admit it and I’ll let you go~”

Yuno was losing his mind. Technically speaking Asta wasn’t tickling him very hard and he wasn’t even going for his worst spot, but the consistency and the teasing were what were driving him up the wall. He wanted to say it…he just couldn’t!

“I cahahahahahahan’t, Asta – plehehehehehehease!” he tried begging, but his refusal only sparked more determination in his never-give-up best friend.

“Oh, you can – and you will!” Asta pressed his thumbs into Yuno’s ribs and began creating tiny, ticklish circles as he teased, “Maybe this will convince you to admit it!”

“Ahahahahahahahasta!” Yuno cried, arms flying down to try and cover himself up, push him away, anything – but Asta only forced his arms to the ground and scooted up even further to sit on them too, rendering him totally helpless and with even less mobility. “Gehehahahahahaha! Plehehehehehehease, stahahahahahahap!”

“You like Leo~” Asta sang at him, grinning when Yuno laughed so hard at the combined tickling and teasing that he began to wheeze. “That’s all you have to say! Just admit it to yourself – you’ll feel better afterwards!”

All Yuno knew at this point was how much Asta’s gentle consistency tickled, and he’d laughed so much his head was a fuzzy warm blanket that didn’t understand the concept of embarrassment or reservation anymore. He whined, and Asta’s thumbnails dug into those incredibly ticklish spots on his ribs, and finally the words slipped out of him without him entirely realizing it.

“I like him! I lihihihihihihihike him! Plehehehehease, Asta!” Yuno tossed his head back and cackled when his friend dug in even harder for a moment just for good measure. “Ahahahahahahasta!”

“Heh, all right, I’ll stop.” Asta let up as promised and climbed off of his friend, leaving him a gasping, giggling mess on the ground. The smaller boy ruffled his hair playfully. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

For a few more moments, Yuno lay there giggling and clutching his ribs protectively, grinning up at the darkening sky. Then his smile flickered and he let out a resigned breath. “I’ve…liked him for a while now.”

Asta crossed his legs and leaned forward eagerly, like they were kids back in school at story time. He nodded encouragingly. “How long?”

“It’s been coming on so gradually I can’t even say. I can’t pinpoint exactly when I realized.” Yuno glanced away again, in the direction Leo had gone several minutes ago now. “But I don’t want to dwell on it too much.”

“Why not?”

“Well…how am I to know if he likes guys or not?”

Asta smirked. “You could always ask him.”

“That would be as good as admitting I have feelings,” Yuno grumbled.

“And that’s a problem because…?” Asta asked. When his friend didn’t reply, he nodded again. “I could ask him if you want.”

“No.” Yuno shook his head and turned to look at him, eyes serious. “I’ll do it. Just…when the time is right.” He paused, then sighed again. “But he’s a noble. They have rules about who they can be with.”

“Leo isn’t next in line for his house or anything,” Asta reminded him gently, nudging him with his foot. “You have a chance, Yuno.”

At that moment, a third voice joined theirs, making both of them jump.

“There you are, Asta,” the royal girl from the Black Bulls that Yuno had recalled earlier strode up to them, frowning at her teammate. “I know you want to catch up with your friend, but Captain Yami is getting impatient. We have to go.”

“Aww, all right,” Asta said, getting to his feet and helping Yuno to his after him. He held out his fist. “Catch you later, Yuno. And good luck.” He winked.

Yuno kept his face impassive now that it wasn’t just the two of them anymore, but he nodded and tapped Asta’s fist with his own – their signature sign-off. “Later, Asta.”

He watched the two of them leave, Asta chattering away and his lady friend trying and failing to look like she wasn’t hanging on every word. He chuckled to himself, remembering his friend’s claim that he’d be able to tell if someone had feelings for him.

You’re just as hopeless as I am, he thought. Then he turned and went to search for his own teammates.

~~~

Part 2 by giggily-squiggily!

[itsabouttimex2]

Hi would it be alright if I request yandere Redson x Mei story /one shot please 🙏 💗 I really like their dynamic and I heard that demons back then would kidnap woman to marry them (even by force if necessary)

Would it be possible to request yandere Redson kidnapping Mei to marry her please ; if you wanna go dark you can do! I look forward to seeing what you come up with 💗 ^^

(if romance makes you uncomfortable, then maybe yandere platonic Redson doesn’t wanna share his only friend Mei with others )

Caleo Courtnapping

(Romance isn’t usually my cup of tea, but it’s nice to try new things! Also, a new Azure Lion bot is in the works!)

“…you’re very pretty,” Red Son finally says. He’s been sitting at the table for nearly an hour, seated opposite his bride-to-be. Each minute not spent staring at her is spent brainstorming and sketching on blank sheets of paper. “You’ve always been pretty. I only wish it hadn’t taken me so long to realize something so obvious.”

In his other hand is a custom cocktail, made by a well-dressed Bull Clone- there’ll be alcohol served at the coming wedding, and he’s been combing through a list of potential options.

“Strawberry daiquiri, sweetened with sugar and served with a splash of lime for freshness. It’ll match our colors, too.”

The fiery prince turn to his ‘darling’, wearing a smug grin that vanishes when he sees the furious expression apparent in her eyes.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Mei.”

From behind an intricate and gilded muzzle, the swordswoman snarls.

“I tried to take it off, darling. You wanted to breath fire at me. Bad idea, by the way- fire’s my thing. I’m not too sure what you expected, actually- stop thrashing around!”

Red Son rounds the table to his intended bride’s side, groaning at her fury. He hadn’t intended for the wedding planning to be a matter of trying to coax nods or shakes from his beloved dragon-horse girl. No, he would’ve much rather spent a lovely evening together, trying wine and sampling sweet pastries for the inevitable day of union that they would share.

But she had made the decision to get physical, so the prince had made a decision of his own- that restraints were now necessary.

And now Mei sits on a sturdy redwood chair, cushioned by lush velvet and installed with many metal shackles to hold any unwilling spouse defiant individual in place. With her wrists and ankles firmly latched down, she found it hard to do much more than writhe.

But writhe she did, so Red circled the chair and slapped a button on the side with little fanfare. A clanging SHUNK sounds as two crescents of metal meet around her waist, tightening slowly to adhere her more closely to the thick wooden chair. Another button, a loud banging of metal that leaves her forearms bound with steel.

“There. That should keep you from ruining your-“

Pause. What did Mother say? Be honest with her instead of playing coy or being proud?

“…you have lovely skin, my dearest spitfire. It would be a travesty if you broke it by thrashing about. That wasn’t a threat, by the way. Please stop writhing.”

Nailed it. Mother would certainly be pleased by his efforts to open up to his future wife, and his expanding complimentary skills.

Or she would start expecting grandkids.

Maybe it would be better to keep this to himself, actually.

With a sigh, he moves one hand to the woman’s muzzled cheek.

“I’ll let you have a drink, darling. But only if you promise to behave.”

There’s a clear enthusiasm in Mei’s burning green eyes- no doubt that she believes Red Son is about to hand her another chance to try and escape his care.

He dashes those hopes by procuring a blindfold. “Misbehave again and this will be going on next,” is his level-voiced threat. “Do not make me cover up those gorgeous eyes, my sparkling cinder.”

Red Son carefully unhooks the muzzle from around her face, taking the moment to brush one of his thumbs across her bottom lip.

“…you really are very pretty,” he comments, a striking note of simple sincerity in his voice.

If she hadn’t been kidnapped and shackled down, Mei might have been flattered.

But all she can manage is a roll of her eyes and a shrug. “Sure, whatever. Give me a sip.”

Seethed through clenched teeth her words may be, they’re still some level of non-violent. So, as he is drawn to do- Red obliges the the wishes of his darling dragon.

“A toast,” he proposes, taking up the wine glass. “To our enduring union.” The glass is tipped to the lips of the swordswoman, allowing her to imbibe the frosty spirit. Made with frozen strawberries to keep ice from diluting the flavor and a shot of internationally imported and very expensive white wine, bright and refreshing- so very like the woman he vied for.

“It’s fine,” the tempestuous woman scoffs in turn. “The sangria was better.”

Watermelon sangria- served with a handful of frozen blueberries in the glass to keep the drink cool, with orange wedges soaking in the pitcher to add a dash of vibrant citrus.

“We’ll have both, darling,” he reassures. “And I suppose we’ll have to rummage up something spicier, too. It won’t be any good if all the spirits are sweet.”

“Pineapple margaritas,” she excitedly says, forgetting for just a moment her predicament to instead gush about something she enjoys. “With jalapeño slices! Ooh, and mezcal!”

Even just that spark of exuberance reminds Red Son why he’s so intent on marrying this warrior of a woman. The light that sparkles in her eyes, the upwards pitch of her delightful voice- how could he not love her?

“Anything for you, darling,” he says, and certainly not for the first or last time.

“I would do anything for you.”

[yourdeepestfathoms]

My Hopes For The P2 Changeling Route

Or, just some things I think would be neat to see when the time eventually comes for her route!

1. More of Clara being an emotional mess.

One thing I was REALLY surprised to see in the P1 Changeling route is just how emotionally tormented Clara is. She constantly expresses anxiety, stress, and even what seems to be depression. I mean, she literally has a line where she says she has been crying for several days. She is EXTREMELY distressed and tormented, something that I don’t really see people discuss very often. This emotional state is especially jarring because of how she acts in the Bachelor and Haruspex route, where she’s seen being snarky, cryptic, and kinda bratty. And then to play her route and see just how broken she actually is is very shocking.

P2 Clara is very different from P1 Clara. She’s less childish and more “mature,” though that maturity, at least to me, is very fragile, and you can tell this is a young girl pretending to be and acting like an adult because she has to. She’s way more bossy, way more snarky, and sometimes even comes across as rude (though—and this may just be because I’m a Clara defender until the day I die—I don’t believe she’s trying to be cruel or mean, I just think she has a really bad filter and says things that aren’t appropriate. not that any of those traits are even bad traits that make her a bad character. she is a teenage girl, or at least has the mind and body of one; that’s a very normal way for her to act, and i think it’s strange how some people shit on her because of that, despite her being a very accurate portrayal of a teenage girl—you know, minus the cryptic parts of her. but i digress!). I mean, she literally sasses off Artemy on several occasions, and Artemy is probably double her size, triple her weight, quadruple her strength, and has the power to kick her across the Steppe like a football—that’s the most teenage rebellion thing ever! And I’m sure in the Bachelor route, we’ll see even more of her being fiery and snarky because Daniil and Clara have, like, DOUBLE the beef compared to Artemy and Clara!

To have ALL OF THAT—all of that upturned nose sarcasm, that haughty “I’m smarter than you professionally trained doctors with medical degrees and a proper education” attitude, that bull-headed sassiness that makes you want to tell her to put her proverbial phone on the counter and go to her room—and then to get into the Changeling route and see that she’s actually very, very emotionally damaged and mentally ill would be a stark duality to how we’ve seen her in the past two routes. I think it would be especially surprising to those who never played P1 or at least never got to her route and never witnessed that side of her. The mask (haha) would slip off, and suddenly all of her vulnerability is raw and exposed and throbbing before our very eyes.

Because, at the end of the day, Clara is a child. She is a very young girl with obvious mental health issues and a mountain load of responsibilities chained upon her back, a young girl who is bullied and verbally abused and threatened by basically every single adult she comes in contact with (not you, Lara, you’re the real one), a young girl who has been forced to act like the adult she is not because all the grown ups in her life are too incompetent to do things themselves and would rather put it all on a child like she’s their personal work dog (i understand why this is from a gameplay standpoint, she’s the player character ofc she’s going to go off and do the quests, but Jesus fucking Christ, Maria, why are you repeatedly sending a tiny middle schooler to stop the gay men from killing each other?!), a young girl with one of the most, if not the most tragic and downright cruel existences I have ever seen in a character in all of my years of engaging in fiction.

Ahem.

I just have a lot of feelings about this character, okay?

But with the way Pathologic 2 presents it’s storytelling and with the new gameplay mechanics and how it REALLY digs into where it hurts, if IPL DOES use and revamp this aspect of Clara, I think it would make the Changeling route absolutely incredible story-wise and character-wise. An exquisite emotional rollercoaster that never seems to stop going downhill. It would be the best way to strike players where it aches the most.

OR TLDR: I want Clara’s emotional problems to be brought back and expanded upon in P2 so people can see she’s not just a sassy little gremlin child (because I have a lot of feelings about her character often being reduced to just that by the fandom.)

2. An expansion on Clara being the Sand Pest.

Out of everything on this list, I think this is the most likely to come into fruition because it’s a BIG THING with her. But I still wanted to discuss it anyway because I have Many Thoughts.

So, Clara is the Plague. We know this. But in P1, I feel like it wasn’t addressed as much as it really should have. I mean, this is a GIANT revelation—that this girl is the living embodiment of this horrible disease and thousands of deaths are, technically speaking, her fault—and it’s just kinda…swept under the rug. Clara has a moment where she’s like “WHAT” and then it isn’t brought up that much after that.

(And, for the record, I understand why this is. Everyone knows by now that the Changeling route was rushed. This isn’t me ragging on IPL, especially when the Changeling route is still INCREDIBLY well-done, to the point where I personally believe the statement that it’s rushed has been greatly exaggerated by players.)

In P2, I hope that Clara being the Sand Pest is a much bigger aspect of her character because it really is a Huge Thing that needs to be expanded upon. I want to see her have a full-blown mental collapse over this because you can’t tell me that that’s not the appropriate reaction to finding out you’re a living Plague.

3. Interactions with the Sand Pest

I’m referencing that one particular Executor that shows up in P2 to taunt Artemy about killing his kids. During my run, I referred to it as “Sandy,” so for this portion, the bird is Sandy for simplicity.

So, I want Clara to interact with Sandy!

It was terrifying enough for Artemy to face off against this thing, but imagine being Clara, staring into the glowing eyes of what is essentially herself. And she’s forced to grapple with this thing, fight against the consequences of an existence she never asked for, and be constantly reminded that with every breath she takes, she’s stealing the breath from someone else.

4. More interactions between the three Mistresses

The Clara-Maria-Capella trio is really underrated in my opinion, and I hope we get to see more of those three interacting. Because we have Capella and Maria, who clearly already have this established relationship and actually like or at least respect each other, and then suddenly Clara is there, throwing off their, for lack of better words, vibe. (I just know Capella and Maria gossip about Clara when she isn’t in the Nutshell).

5. More interactions with the Albino

The relationship between Clara and the Albino is so adorable and wholesome, and Clara deserves this inkling of kinship and love that he gives her. It’s such an underrated dynamic and interaction that happens in P1, and I REALLY want to see it happen again in P2.

I hope Clara gets to meet all those Albinos that Artemy saw in the Abattoir. I think it would be cute if she just had this flock of brothers.

6. An expansion on how Clara’s powers can just backfire and kill people on accident instead of healing them

I think there were two people Clara accidentally kills in P1- Lika and that mugger outside of Barley’s lair. It’s not mentioned at all with the mugger, and then with Lika, Clara freaks out briefly and then is like “anyway…”

This “power”—the ability to kill people with a single touch—REALLY needs to be expanded upon. Because it is a GOLDMINE for trauma and guilt. It’s also just something that needs to be explored way more because it’s a really interesting concept that P1 never gave much details about.

7. A deeper look into Clara’s existence as a child of Earth

I just really love that she is a dirt child and think it’s super cool part of her character, and I want her to have a deeper connection to those roots (pun intended). The lore in the game and the Steppe culture is so interesting, and it could be explored way more through the eyes of Clara, who is new to it, whereas Artemy knew most of it and Daniil just doesn’t fucking care to learn.

8. No more “stop the gay men from killing each other” quests

As funny as the concept of this small child stopping two sexually tensive men from beating the shit out of each other is, it got REALLY OLD after the second time. At the very least, the dialogue that you get when you speak to Artemy and Daniil each time should be different every day. If they hadn’t said the same thing Every Single Time, I think I wouldn’t have minded the repetitive quests as much.

9. Bring back the Barbie Blaster

Clara is clearly bigger and a little older than she was in P1, but I hope her hands are still too tiny to hold normal guns because I honestly really liked that little mechanic. It made her different than the other two. Also the baby gun you get is literally the best gun ever, idk what hbomberguy was talking about, that thing NEVER missed for me.

10. This funky healing mechanic I thought about

So, I started wondering about something- how is healing going to work in both the Changeling and Bachelor route? After all, they can’t exactly use tinctures anymore. But given how stupidly hard the game is, I wouldn’t be surprised if it expects you to get actual medicine yourself and make yourself go broke.

I then thought about this funky mechanic! I just wanted to put it here instead of making an entirely different post.

So, instead of using tinctures, Clara uses her hands. There are the three layers, like in the Haruspex route, and depending on which layer is afflicted, Clara suffers some kind of penalty while healing the patient, whether it be hunger, exhaustion, or thirst. This makes it to where she can’t just heal people without any sort of price to pay AND it makes her healing way more important because it really was just referenced in the first game. There were less than a handful of times where she ACTUALLY healed someone (not counting the Plague victims, as that is entirely optional). So with this she ACTUALLY heals people and has a very obvious power.

(Side note: maybe the less health Clara has, the less likely she is to heal people and instead accidentally kill them. Or if she’s infected, then she kills her patient or even infects them—or raises their infection level altogether if they’re already infected.)

11. An expansion on how Clara’s healing powers literally hurt her

Empathic healing, where a person has the power to heal but they heal by essentially absorbing the ailment of a person into their own body, is SUCH a good concept, and I don’t know if this was what IPL was actually going for, but I really want Clara getting hurt when she heals to be a bigger thing in her route. Because she DOES take damage when she heals Plague victims, and MAYBE that’s just a balance thing in the game, but even still! A lot of good game mechanics can come into play if healing harms her!

12. More Lara and Yulia interactions

I don’t have much to say about this, I just really like those two and want them to talk to Clara way more

13. A cool opening animation of her birth from the Earth

Artemy got the train sequence, Daniil is probably gonna get him slogging through the Steppe because it seems like brother really fucking walked all the way to the Town, so it would make a lot of sense for Clara’s opening to be her clawing her way out of the Earth and waking up in the graveyard! I know IPL could make a really cool sequence with that, so I have high hopes.

[robinshandhurts]

More of Milo, and you know what? Heck it I’m gonna do a lore dump as well.

Plot

Milo is really bland guy. He’s got a basic fashion sense, has no talents, no friends, and no ambitions. Until one day when an amulet falls from the sky and hits him in the face while on his way to school.

Nothing happens until much later in the day when the town is attacked by an unknown galaxy like creature and he transforms….into a really uncomfortably girly fit, but he’s got a whip so now he can fight the monster. He very unceremoniously strangles whatever it is and untransforms.

When he’s returned to his normal state a very angry lion familiar bursts out of the amulet to yell at him. Turns out he was never meant to get this amulet and turn into a magical girl, the amulet was actually supposed to go to the clumsy pink-haired girl who’d been standing next to him at the bus stop. But she’d hopped on a bus right before the amulet fell out of the sky.

The lion familiar (Lee) is really pissed off because if Milo hadn’t triggered the transformation then they could’ve just found another way to get to that girl from earlier. But now they’ve fought together they’re bonded and neither of them can do anything about it. Milo’s confused, Lee’s pissed, it’s generally not a fun time for anyone.

Eventually (after a really awkward silence), Milo asks about whether Lee can change his magical outfit. Lee reluctantly agrees even though they rlly liked the outfit they made up before (the outfit in the art above is the new outfit).

From there they’ll meet the other girls in the group and over time Milo becomes the leader of the group, finally becoming less boring.

The magical world

Now that we know the plot (or well the shell of it), let’s move onto the magic system.

So I didn’t make this clear before but all the magical girls represent a Zodiac (Milo is obviously Leo). And all of them have a special animal as a second theme:

Aquarius: Seal

Pisces: Some kind of fish

Aries: Ram

Taurus: Bull

Gemini: Bunny

Cancer: Crab (specifically a yeti crab)

Leo: Lion

Virgo: Swan/Peacock (I’m still deciding)

Libra: Owl

Scorpio: Scorpion

Sagittarius: Horse

Capricorn: Seahorse

They each have three powers: Moon power, Sun power, Rising power. Their rising power is the weakest but they can use it multiple times if they need, it’s based off of their Zodiac’s element and normally involves their weapon. Milo’s for example is a fire whip kinda thing.

Their Sun power is stronger but they can only use it once per transformation. It’s based off their special animal. Idk what Milo’s is yet, what I had planned worked better as his moon power.

Speaking of: their moon power is their strongest move. When they use it (which can’t be often because it drains their familiars a lot) they go into a trance like state and their special animal forms around them. The power they can use in this state is based off of their Zodiac. For example: Milo can use a power called ‘Nemean wall of Fire’, which is a huge fiery shield he can summon and use to protect himself or others (main character type power yk).

Both the person and the familiar have to be in sync with one another to use these powers, so there needs a bond between them otherwise the magic might not work properly. This would be explored later once Sagittarius is introduced as she uses a wheelchair and so if her transformation goes wrong then the support she needs could disappear (I’ll explain it more once I have her design down) and that would suck real hard for her because then she wouldn’t be able to move without leaning on something. So for her the bond is vital. And that gets explained to her and everyone else in the group.

Anyway this is all still a work in progress so any suggestions are welcome. :)

[f0point5]

Can we see which drivers likes and dislikes y/n? I can think a few drivers. Also i think esteban's dislike towards her run deeper than just mick situation because remember how max and esteban fought after the race? Exactly! Idk why but i think george wouldn't like her either 😭

Part 7.5 shows her relationship with a few of the other drivers. Besides Max she’s closest to Lando and Daniel, and has always had a good friendship with Lance. She has a lot of mutual friends with Charles but they’re not especially close, same with Alex as she is friends with Lily.

I think Pierre and Carlos would definitely have a love/hate relationship with her. Like, they’d joke around but I think when it comes down to it they would see her firmly as “Max adjacent”/Red Bull girl and I think they’re both fiery competitive personalities who’ve been burned by everything associated with the Red Bull machine in the past. So, I think they’d be friendly but distant.

I don’t think she and George would have anything to say to each other. And that’s not a failing of either of them, I think they’re just different characters, a bit like George and Max. Probably good banter, fine small talk, but not much beyond that. I think George is very straight laced and reader is the opposite.

The only one I can see genuinely disliking her as a person is Esteban. I think Esteban has a bit of a chip on his shoulder about a lot of things, but also about Max specifically which I think dates back to F3/karting. Which means he would have seen Y/N around since those days also. I think Esteban has been burned a lot by the politics of the sport and he sees Y/N as an embodiment of that, with her dad being a sponsor and her being a bit of a “nepo baby” in the industry. I imagine he also thinks she’s dragged his good friend Mick around a bit as well. She and Esteban I see as having quite an interesting dynamic but I probably won’t explore it as it would stray too far from the central plot.

Ultimately I see the rest of the grid being pretty neutral about her.