#gives me billie hate vibes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

viennakarma · 5 months

Text

Everything I Wanted I.

LESTAPPEN X READER (Part 1)

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

Word count: 7.1k

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

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

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

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

Find me on Twitter!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After that, you stopped talking to Max completely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," he nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You paused, your breath hitched.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Simples as that, Fernando too became your friend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You all were wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you for believing in me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You looked behind you to your destroyed car.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He just wants to apologize.”

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

“Y/N…” Sebastian sounded tired.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up.”

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

“Shut up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

None of you said a word.

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

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

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

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

2K notes · View notes

weirdbrothers · 2 months

Text

Stranger Things Fic Rec

Let me get one thing out of the way: absolutely nobody asked for this. But I love these pairings and stories so much I had to share it with you all. This is heavy on Steve/Billy with some Steve/Eddie sprinkled in.

If you've never read Stranger Things fic, or when you saw this post thought "oh yeah, that 80s kid monster show" I encourage you to give these a try! You don't have to know much about the show besides the bare bones of the plot. (And my ask box is always open for Qs!) If you like angsty teenage boys who are in denial about their feelings and hate their hometown, read on.

Now, on to the porn and depravity!

if i stare too long by @brawlite & @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | Steve/Eddie/Billy

After the end of the world, Billy Hargrove is a mess. But at least he has company.

Notes: Literally one of my favorite fics of all time, I will never shut up about it. Gay threesomes. Angst. A sweltering midwestern summer. Homoerotic undertones that builds to filthy gay porn. The vibes are all there.

Pressure by Yellow_Blue_Books | Steve/Eddie

"You never did tell me your name," he called at Munson's back. The older man was already in the trees when he turned back around and stated his name, eyes bright and grin wide. Steve never heard it; he couldn't read his lips from so far a distance between them. So instead, he watched Munson walk away; the teen, now wide awake, went to sit on the hood of his car to wait for Hopper to show. On that crisp, cold January night in 1985 - Steve Harrington heard the sound of Eddie Munson's voice for the first and last time. He never even knew his name.

Notes: The only WIP on this rec list, and totally worth the wait. Great characterization. So many little tidbits of information that have me squealing with joy. But also dark and grounded in reality.

chokechain by @brawlite | Steve/Billy (and Tommy is there)

Tommy H. invites Billy to a party at Steve's house. Billy expected hot chicks and booze, but when he shows up, there's only the latter. Steve and Tommy teach Billy that in Hawkins, sometimes you just gotta make do.

Notes: When I think of this fic I literally start sweating its so sexy. The fic that got me hooked on Steve/Billy and gay Steve in general. Its so subtle and gritty and grimy and hot. And Tommy is egging everyone on, yet oblivious, just how I like him.

so good at being in trouble, so bad at being in love by @the-copperkid Steve/Billy

Steve's sophomore year, Billy showed up.

Notes: A fandom classic. The perfect example of Steve/Billy getting together in world, and dealing with their feelings (+ porn, because I'm me and I need porn in all my fic).

We'll Go Down in History by @eternalgoldfish | Billy/Steve

Hawkins High takes a field trip to Baltimore to see historical sites and Steve would rather jump out his hotel window.

Notes: So much teenage angst and tomfoolery in this one! A little more lighthearted than others on the list. Gets to that theme in ST that I love: the idle hands of teenage boys are the devil's playthings.

Dom 4 Hire by @lazybakerart

Steve is naked, on his hands and knees, in the apartment he shares with his high school sweetheart for a man he only just met in person five minutes ago.

Notes: From the second I saw Steve Harrington on screen I knew that boy was a sub dying for someone to call him a good boy. And Billy is just the dom for the job. My only complaint is that I wish this was longer!

Maybe we're something uncool by desert_dino | Steve/Billy

It’s only noon; Billy knows neither of them have work that evening, and their shitty gen-ed biology lab was cancelled. They’ve only been hanging out for an hour, and maybe Billy isn’t quite done fucking around with Harrington yet. Maybe he’ll indulge him.

Notes: Cocky Billy is what the world needs! Great banter and dialogue. Just a snapshot of what I imagine their afternoons would look like, and the teens of Hawkins would be like "why the fuck are they always hanging out?" totally oblivious.

slipping through by sightetsound | Steve/Billy

It was the weed, and the pilfered whiskey from Steve’s daddy dearest they passed back and forth. It was actually how Steve’s eyes caught the moonlight. How his mouth moved when he spoke, and how it curved on a grin Billy would call relaxed when they were alone. Admitting as much felt too much like giving ground, and so it was the weed and whiskey.

Notes: Really bittersweet, heartfelt, and sincere. A different kind of pace for this pairing.

You Get Too Close by @trashcangimmick | Steve/Billy

Steve sits at the back of the bus on the way to a basketball match in Gary. Billy Hargrove sits right across from him.

Notes: Be for real- when we saw that basketball and shower scene we were all hoping it would go in the direction of this fic. Gives me the vibe of an 80s porno in the best way.

Reflecting on the Longest Wavelength by @trashcangimmick | Billy/Hopper

Billy’s heat hits early. Jim Hopper happens to find him before anyone else does.

Notes: This pairing is a little rouge, I don't see it often and its hard to pin down for me past all the basic tropes. I really like the A/B/O world-building here and find myself returning to it.

#stranger things #stranger things fic rec #harringrove #steddie #fic rec

84 notes · View notes

puppetwoman17 · 8 months

Text

Okay, so there’s this Billy Batson post-Injustice fic called A Reason to Fight on AO3, and it’s got me wanting more fics like that.

I mean, there’s so many different ways it could go.

One fic could be where he did die, and we can’t bring him back. The JL are brought back together to take on an otherworldly evil(surprise surprise) and they need the help of the gods to do it. With both conventional and unconventional means, they’re able to be granted passage to Olympus for this one catastrophic emergency(begrudgingly, because the gods sorta hate their guts).

Then they see this one glowing building, separated from the rest. It’s got a lightning bolt on it. Sparks flying around it. Gives off a less imposing vibe. There’s suspicions about what it’s for, but no one feels compelled to ask. Until a leaguer(doesn’t have to be specific, maybe Guy Gardener or Flash or whatevs) gains enough courage to ask what that place is.

The god leading them to Zeus stops dead in their tracks. They don’t speak yet. They turn and look at the leaguer who was dumb enough to ask a grieving god a question like that.

And the god replies: “The Hall of Champions is where every champion goes when they die. They are allowed to spend their afterlife in complete relaxation as the fruits of their labor. They meet others like them and forgo the troubles of their mortal lives.”

The god says that last part bitterly.

The JL immediately knows who’s inside. The building just speaks Marvel. That same stupid league member asks if they can go inside. If they can speak to one of them, no one in particular(everyone knows they’re lying, but the guilt is just too much).

The god laughs. Actually just laughs right there, in front of a bunch of mortals and super powered people who dare to think they can come anywhere near the former Champion of Magic.

The god tells them: “We granted him his wish of being part of a team because we thought it would help him through such trying times. We thought he finally had others who would look after him, something we may not always be able to do. We thought he would finally, after all these years, have something akin to family.

“And just like that, those hopes and dreams were taken away, all because our champion finally saw the light again. If you go so much as a foot closer to him, the gods of Olympus will show you the same mercy you showed your so-called teammate.”

Lol, that’s as far as I’ve gotten.

Another fic could be where he actually didn’t die, like in A Reason to Fight. He comes back to life after recharging just like in A Reason to Fight. But this time, there’s a change.

He doesn’t make himself known. He changes his identity and stays under the league radar. He doesn’t transform into Cap, but he secretly helps the people of Fawcett with his powers because BILLY was chosen, not the avatar itself.

Dunno how to go about the next part. That all depends on the plot, what characters are still alive and still dead. The timeline of when exactly he comes back and how long he stays incognito.

But somehow, someway, the League becomes aware that Marvel, that Billy, is alive. They rush to see him after (however) long. They see him alive and well…

And he’s just disgusted. Heartbroken. Scared. Angry. Tells them to f*ck off and find some other kid’s dreams to destroy. Tells them to never contact him unless it’s for business that requires the Champion’s reputation. Because despite everything, he still takes his job as Champion very seriously. Because he thought he could finally trust these adults, and they turned their backs on him.

He especially hates Superman for the looks of guilt he gives him. Just wants to punch him in the face. Same with Diana. Same with Lantern. Same with Flash and Cy. Maybe not Batman, but even association can hurt.

Again, idk where this one might go, or how the plot is or whatever, but I need more post-Injustice fics on Billy Batson damnit!

#billy batson #captain marvel #dc universe #justice league

161 notes · View notes

lucysgraybird · 2 months

Text

pairing: billy the kid x veterinary student!reader

warnings: none? mild anxiety?

a/n: yes i did write this to deal with my own academic issues. i am however a politics and theology major so idk what vet school is like at all it just fit the vibe for the story

Veterinary school was, quite frankly, beating your ass. It was a seemingly never-ending stream of deadlines and test dates, and you stumbled home to your dorm each night (or early morning) with barely enough energy to brush your teeth before falling into bed for a couple hours of sleep.

Fridays were a reprieve from this monotony. On Fridays, you made the hour-and-a-half drive out of the city to your boyfriend Billy’s farm, where you'd spend the weekend resting and helping him tend to the animals. You had called him on Wednesday and told him you couldn't come this week because you had too much work, and because you were in a miserable mood that you didn't want to bring into his house, but he'd insisted that you come out. He said that, one, he wanted you in his house no matter what mood you were in – he had, in fact, called it “our” house, which sent your heart soaring every time you thought about it. He also promised that he would make a space where you could work without being disturbed, and he had sounded so earnest that you simply couldn't turn him down.

Thus, on Friday, directly after your last class of the week, you threw your weekend bag into your car and drove down to the farm. Your Fridays ended blissfully early, so it was just before noon when you arrived.

Taking advantage of the unseasonably warm day, Billy was taking care of a rusty gate hinge in just a button-down, forgoing his usual canvas jacket. You strode up to him, checking that he wasn't handling anything particularly delicate before you spoke.

“Finally worth it to fix those hinges?”

He'd been bemoaning the state of his gates all winter, but there had never been a point to fixing them – the past months had been so wet and cold that even if one issue did stay fixed, it was almost certain that another would crop up.

A half smile curved across his face at your teasing as he stood.

“Well hello to you too,” he said. There was a laugh playing at the edges of his words.

“Hi, baby,” you acquiesced, standing on your tiptoes to peck him on the lips. “How was your week?”

“Better now that you're here.”

You rolled your eyes and nudged him with your shoulder as the two of you meandered up to the house.

“Seriously, Billy.”

“I'm bein’ serious! It was a fine week. Not much happened besides the sun finally showin’ her face, so there ain't much to report out on.”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed. “How's Britta doing? Is her hoof looking any better?”

Britta was a cow who'd had an infected hoof the last time you were there. You had taken care of it, welcoming the opportunity to practice what you were learning in school, but had been wracked with anxiety all week that you had done something horribly wrong.

“She's back to her old self, just clopping around and terrorizin’ the bull,” Billy said. “You did a wonderful job, darlin’, I really can't thank you enough.”

“You thanked me plenty last weekend, I promise.”

Once inside, you hung your sweater up and turned to your boyfriend.

“I really hate to do this, but I have to get some work done. Am I gonna be in your way if I sit in the living room?”

“You wouldn't be in my way if you sat smack in the middle of this hall, Y/N,” Billy said. “I'll move ‘round you. Don't worry about it.”

You settled on the couch with your laptop and got to work, focusing on the flashcards you had made for your exam the next week. True to his word, Billy left you undisturbed, mostly finishing work outside to give you some quiet space. You didn't even notice how much time had passed until Billy was handing you a plate with a sandwich and chips and settling next to you with his own. The light in the room had changed from the brilliance of midday to the dusty gold of mid-afternoon. You rubbed your eyes, dry and tight from looking at your screen.

You shut your laptop and set it aside. “What time is it?”

“Just past three,” replied Billy. “I figure it's a little late for lunch, but we can just eat a later dinner to make up for it. Plus, I'd wager you haven't eaten anything since before dawn.”

He was right, of course, and you sunk your teeth gratefully into your sandwich. Billy leaned back next to you, one leg tucked up so he could balance his plate on his knee. You eat in silence; Billy turns to you when you've both finished.

“So,” he said, “I've yet to see that foul mood you mentioned on the phone.”

You cringed, having hoped he wouldn't bring that up. “You don't need to worry about it-”

“Careful, darlin’, or I'll start thinkin’ you're trying to avoid me.”

He was teasing, but your head still whipped up to look at him in alarm.

“No, it's not that, I promise. This week has just been so crazy and I didn't want to bring that to you, and-” You nearly overturned your plate in your rush, and just barely caught it before it shattered on the floor.

Billy set his plate on the coffee table, and you followed suit. He took your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs slowly over the thin skin of your wrists.

“Slow down, Y/N, ain't no one on your tail. You wanna talk about what's goin’ on?”

His tone was so gentle and his eyes so concerned that it made you want to cry, though you weren't sure why. Maybe for worrying him, maybe from exhaustion, but whatever it was, it was constricting your windpipe and threatening to spill out into the world.

Billy noticed even though no tears had fallen yet, and he sighed.

“C’mere, honey, I'm sorry for asking,” he said, tucking you into his side and pressing a kiss to your hair. “How badly do you actually need to work?”

Once you trusted your voice to be steady enough to speak, you said, “I have an exam on Monday that I need to study for, and a project I want to get a head start on. Plus my readings for next week.”

“‘kay. And will anything blow up if you take the weekend off? Have you already studied for your exam?”

“I've covered all the topics and I think I know it, but I can never be sure. I can't take the whole weekend off.”

For some reason, that was the straw that broke the camel's back, and tears began to roll down your face. Billy tucked his chin over your head and pressed you closer to him.

“What if you took just the rest of today off, and tomorrow morning?”

“I don't know-”

“Can't see how you're goin’ to get good studying in if you're cryin’.”

And damn, if he wasn't right about that. He just held you while you regained your composure, rubbing his hand absently over your bicep. The business of the last week finally caught up to you in something other than anxiety, and you felt your eyes begin to drift shut. Billy, though he couldn't see your face, somehow sensed you starting to drift off and eased you both into a lying position on the couch. He had your head on his chest, and the steady beat of his heart and rise and fall of his breath lulled you into a peaceful sleep.

#lowkey hate this lol! but here it is anyways #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid imagine #billy bonney #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid #billy the kid 2022 #william h bonney x you #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney imagine #billy the kid x you #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader

66 notes · View notes

bat-stuff · 1 year

Text

Oddly specific Headcanons I have for Jon Kent

Jon is aged up to between 15-17, roughly in this area

Being a retired farm boy Jon has this midwestern/southern accent that only really appears when he's upset

For example, when he's really emotional about something he'll start slurring his words into "yall" or some other southern slang

Personally I headcanon he would call Lois "mama" instead of "mom" no matter what age he is

I have a hunch that he doesn't like to sweat. He doesn't mind getting dirty with farm work or any other type of down-in-the-mud thing, but the moment he starts to sweat a little too much he'll speed up whatever he's doing and will just be a little disgusted with the sticky feeling

This also goes along with him being a very clean boy

He gets annoyed fairly easily (Damian's kind of rubbed off on him) by rude/mean people

He doesn't tolerate bullies even a little bit

He has a tendency to throw/slam things when he's angry (sometimes people, we've all seen the panels where he throws Damian into walls)

That being said, he has great control of his super-strength, but he relieves tension by physical force

Lois offers him up to neighborhood girls to walk them home from school or some event

It's like "Here, have my son. Let him walk you home, dear. "

That being said, Jon is very much a Mama’s boy and if he thinks Lois wouldn't like someone he's probably not going to be associated with them

Wears jeans religiously and definitely hates sweatpants

Loves sweatshirts and big coats and shirts but loathes sweatpants

He feels naked and it just makes him uncomfy

He hates tight t-shirts and tanktops, he'd rather die than wear them

Somehow still tolerates his suit tho, he says it's "who I have to be for the people"

Because of Colin, has a bad habit of cussing at minor inconveniences

"Jesus christ goddammit, why is the toaster cord melted? Kon, this is the second time this week, man. Pull yourself the fuck together"

But when there's an actual situation that is deserving of colorful language he uses the most creative replacements

"Klarion took Damian hostage? That KFC finger licker is going to get blended!" Or something like this

If Damian uses a word he doesn't understand he'll just stare at him like a deer in headlights

Jon and Dami have this like twin telepathy ability to always know what the other wants and it pisses Colin and Billy off so much

They just look at each other and are like "yeah I know what you mean, I think that's going to be the best approach to the situation"

He gives me DECA vibes honestly. Or he'd be in speech and do Entertainment or Persuasive.

Definitely is in journalism for his parents' sake, even if it makes him die a little inside everytime someone asks him if he wants to be a journalist

Probably wants to go into biology or heath sciences

369 notes · View notes

hierarchyproblem · 5 months

Text

In season three, there are a couple of points where a decision is made not to make use of Flint's reputation. Silver is sent instead of him to announce his return from the dead, and Silver is chosen as the man whose name is attached to the black spot. Both of these choices come over as kind of incongruous; Flint's fearsome reputation is one of the most powerful weapons the Walrus crew have! And of course the practical reason for this is that the writers know that Treasure Island doesn't work unless Silver also has a fearsome reputation. These moments are some of the points where the artifice of the show is most visible.

Except! Both times it's Billy who makes that call. It drops out of focus in the back half of the season, but you have to remember Billy still really fucking hates the captain. They're working together in the fight for survival against the encroach of civilisation, but unlike Silver, Billy and Flint are not friends!

So some of Billy's contributions to the crew's strategy in this season are:

Flint shouldn't lead raids, because he's too valuable to lose, it should be someone else

Flint shouldn't be the one to announce his return to Dufresne et al., because it would be kind of lame (?), it should be Silver

Flint shouldn't attempt to stay behind to free Vane, because he's too valuable to lose, it should be him (Billy)

Flint shouldn't be the boogeyman behind the black spot, because fuck him, he's already infamous, let's give someone else a turn - it should be Silver

All of these suggestions have the side effect of sidelining Flint. Notably as soon as Flint's not present when the judgement call is made, he's much more forthright that he doesn't want to invest any more power in Flint than he already has. I think you can totally read this into all the other instances too, even though the throughline isn't explicitly drawn: it's possible Billy is thinking ahead to how easy it'll be to remove Flint after the war is won.

What's most interesting to me, though, is bullet #2. Billy's argument here is (paraphrased) that Flint is the ghost in a ghost story, and if he shows up in person without any foreshadowing, the vibes would be wrong. Which is insane, right? We get scenes afterward of characters doubting that Flint really even is still alive, which isn't useful to them at all - that could've been avoided if he just went himself!

But, of course, the vibes would be wrong. Billy, Flint, and Silver are characters from a childrens' storybook. Black Sails is a show about stories, of course, and increasingly so as it goes on, but how much more true is that for Captain Flint, Billy Bones, and Long John Silver! These guys are storybook men, they're bound to the artifice of the story more than anyone. We know how it ends for them before we ever watch episode I, we know who they'll become. This is all over the show: how many times does Flint refer to himself as "the villain" for example? So of course if we're doing a ghost story they'll play along with the rules of a ghost story (hell, the Flint of Treasure Island more or less is a ghost)!

Yeah, fictional men make suboptimal choices that make for a more dramatic story, of course they do: that's what they're for. These guys play their part in someone else's tale not just in-world as pirates in England's propaganda, but as the characters from Treasure Island. They're bound to the story, whether they like it or not.

#black sails

63 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 22 days

Note

Maybe gonna be massively unpopular, but I fucking hate when people write in cockney, aave or whatever when they're not someone who speaks it already, and has no interest in actually learning it. Especially when it's like "I wanna write some (insert politeish term for hill billy hick) character, so how do I write like that dialect?!" If you don't know, I'm gonna assume you're just gonna end up sounding either offensively bad or offensively stupid. Some people comparing two different dialects from different language and treating them like they'd interchangeable when you switch the language is also annoying. Oh but you wanna have that character in your story, that right vibe that special dialects gives. You sound stupid, that's what you sound like.

It feels kinda trashy, and most people doing this can't write these dialects at all. Most dialects have their own rules and writing structures, you can't just write a few words in that dialect and believe that it sells the character actually speaking like that. Without the rules it's gonna sound fake, unless you actually learn the language of that dialect. You might also just end up sounding like you got a bad case of the chronic ESL, like me, who learned language via the most random of media, like mex2.

34 notes · View notes

faithshouseofchaos · 6 months

Text

Forbidden love— part two y/n’s pov

Tagged— @toasttt11 @lollypop90907 @moss-is-a-tasty-snack @wolfsbanesbite @norrisleclercf1 @norizznorris @ironcowboycopnickel @badassturtle13 @real-kate-bishop-aka-hawkeye @wolfsbanesbite @80sloverry @hollie911 @ladymarvel27 @reidsworld @charlesf1leclerc @darleneslane @carlossainzwho @sarahedwards16 @princessria127 @omgsuperstarg @eugene-emt-roe @v1naco @tom-plz-fuck-me @itsjustkhaos @bikewithgirl @raizelchrysanderoctavius @crashingwavesofeuphoria

Forbidden Love Part Two

From the young age of seven years old y/n Norris had always had a crush on the older verstappen boy. Even if she didn’t understand what love truly was at that age it was just something about him that drew her in. Maybe he was determined to be the best in Formula One or it was that she tried not to get lost in his blue eyes.

Y/n knew that the young Verstappen boy was suffering from the tight grip his father had on him, she saw it every time she came with her brother Lando to his Karting races she saw how Max’s father would take out his anger on everyone around him it didn’t matter who it was. When you asked your Father about Max's dad and why he was being mean to him your father told you that some people like Max weren’t always born into a loving family and that they were born into one full of sadness and hate.

You had watched as Max took the opportunity to get away from his father. You followed him into the alleyway and tapped him on the back. Max turned around and looked down at you. Little seven years old you felt your heart speed up and your hands started to sweat. You took a deep breath, handed Max a Spiderman sticker, and walked off. What seven-year-old you didn’t see was how Max smiled and stuck the sticker on the inside of his helmet.

A year later you entered your first carting competition where you placed 2nd against a bunch of boys who were 1-2 years older than yourself. You were walking back to your father and brother when you ran into Max, he congratulated you on your second-place win before running off to his father. You turned red in the face at the compliment.

Now you're 20 years old and driving for Williams Racing. Wearing your black pants and blue Williams shirt you went and did your introduction video for the fans.

You sat down in the chair next to Alex who was going to be asking the questions.

Alex- Don’t be shy to introduce yourself

Y/n— hello everyone I’m Y/n Norris and I’m the second-seat driver for Williams racing

Alex— perfect ok let’s start with who's your favorite F1 driver and why?

Y/n— easy, that's Kimi Raikkonen, and why you ask because he doesn’t expect me to talk about my day. We could sit in a room and not talk about anything. It's a comfortable silence which I like.

Alex— I saw that coming you have a blanket with his face on it. OK next question, what is your favorite racetrack?

Y/n—Zandvoort circuit. The overall vibes of the people are just immaculate. It's all good vibes, everyone's so nice and welcoming.

Alex— interesting and not to mention you and your brother can eat your weight in stroopwafels

Y/n— that's true.

Alex— last question: what is your goal for this season?

Y/n— to win I don’t care where I just wanna win.

“Alright, do you wanna get suited up and meet us at the garage for a test drive?” Alex asked.

“Hell yeah give me 10 minutes,” you say rushing off to your driver's room to change into your fireproofs.

Walking out of your driver's room dressed in your blue Williams racing suit you pulled your balaclava on and then pulled on your helmet. Once you were ready you climbed into the car and the mechanics

Started buckling you in. Getting the green light you pulled out of the garage and onto the track.

Engineer— how does it feel kid?

Y/n— amazing

Engineer— how does the car feel?

Y/n— driving smoothly

Engineer— All right give it a couple of laps and come back to the garage.

Y/n— copy that

You went around the track a few times before having to pull back into the garage, turn off the car, and climb out. You see Lando who has a big smile on his face.

“That was amazing y/n,” your brother said, hugging you.

“Thank you, Lando”

“You’re welcome oh I’m throwing a party for you tonight so I just wanted you to let me know so you can mentally prepare yourself for tonight”

“Oh ok thank you for telling me who's all going to be there?”

“Some of the guys from the grid and their girlfriends that’s all”

“Oh so not that many people”

“Yep I figured that I’d let you know beforehand anyway I need to get back to McClaren I’ll see you tonight,” your brother said hugging you before running off.

You walked off to your driver's room to change out of your fireproofs before meeting with your engineer and mechanics to make some adjustments to the car.

John— OK kid tell me what you think of any adjustment we need to make.

Y/n— yeah, it kinda of felt like the DRS flap was sticking a little, it was lagging a bit. Other than that the cat felt fine.

John— Right I’ll check it out and your PR manager needs you. I think she said you have one more interview to do before you're done for the day.

Y/n— alright I’ll see you tomorrow thank you for telling me I better get going before Shelly loses her mind.

You ran out of the garage to your motorhome where you knew that Shelly, your PR manager was waiting for you. Looking down at your phone texting Shelly you were on your way when you bumped into someone causing you to fall but you never felt the ground thanks to the hand gripping your arm.

“Are you okay?” Looking up you see Max and his teammate Checo looking down trying to hide your blush, You look back at the two.

“Yeah, I’m okay I’m just late meeting my PR manager and I’m late for my last interview for the day,” you told them.

“Well I’m glad you're okay,” Max said, letting go of your arm.

“Thank you for not letting me bust my face open but I need to get going,” you said, running off not hearing as Checo teased Max about his crush.

Finally meeting with your PR manager she told you that you still had an interview left with Jenson Button which was easy to talk to because he respected you and believed that you have what it takes to be the first female to win a world championship with F1 one day.

Jenson- there she is I was begging to wonder if you forgot about me.

Y/n- no I could never forget you Jenson

Jenson- I was just talking about your impressive test drive you just finished and I have to say that was pretty incredible driving especially for someone who is as young as you are.

Y/n— thank you Jenson I learned from watching the best.

Jenson— that would be me right?

Y/n— I was going to say Kimi Raikkonen but whatever you need to tell yourself to help you sleep better at night be my guest.

Jenson— you’ve got to stop hanging out with Kimi. You're starting to sound like him.

Y/n— he’s my favorite for a reason.

Jenson— are you excited for your first F1 race?

Y/n— yes I’m excited, kinda nervous about it though.

Jenson—that’s normal, ask anyone who had their first race and they’ll tell you that they too were nervous to ask Kimi the next time you see him.

Y/n— I’ll keep that in mind.

Jenson— so tell me how did the car feel?

Y/n— the cat felt great. We had pretty good pace, but the drs was a bit sticky and there was a bit of a drag so my head mechanic is fixing that now as we speak.

Jenson— alright sounds like things are going great there for Williams at the moment to try win for me kid i got a lot of money on you.

Y/n— did you bet on me?

Jenson— yes

Y/n— unbelievable

You say walking away shaking your head.

Later that night…

Lando’s party was kicking off. All the guys were coming up to congratulate you for joining F1. Most of them were excited to race against you. You just laughed and said that it would be great to kick their asses which they found funny but they all knew you had the talent to do so.

Daniel Landos ex-teammate walked into the apartment giving you a bear hug and ruffling your fair was happy to see you.

After a while you found yourself talking to Lily and dancing with her. The two of you have been growing closer together since you became teammates with Alex.

“You like him don’t you?” Lily asked, already knowing the answer.

“What who are you talking about”

“Max you like Max”

“I don’t like Max”

“Sure you were staring pretty hard at him I think you were begging to drool”

“You crazy and you were seeing things and even if I did like Max my Lando would freak out”

“Lando doesn’t have to know”

You knew she was right about everything you were staring at Max and Lando didn’t have to know. You were practically 20 years old.

“Except me Lily but do you mind if I steal y/n for a few?” Max asked.

Lily looked back at you smiling “Sure Max I need to find Alex anyways” she said walking away.

“Hi Max”

“Hello, y/n so how are you feeling about your first race coming up?”

“I’m not gonna lie I’m nervous”

“Yeah that’s normal I was 17 when I entered my first race”

“You know Jenson said that was normal for everyone”

“He’s not wrong. Would you like to step outside for a minute?”

“Yes Max would like to step outside for some fresh air”

You walked outside to the balcony with Max behind you. Sighing as you leaned against the railing looking out at the ocean breathing in the salty crisp cool air. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Max staring at you with a small smile on his face.

“What are you looking at?” You asked, smiling at him.

“I’m not going to lie, Mooi meisje, I'm looking at you,” Max said, staring at you.

Beautiful girl if you remember correctly that’s what he said looking back out at the ocean trying to fight the feeling in Your gut you smile losing the internal battle.

“Thank you, Max,” you say as you sit down on the couch on the balcony.

“You welcome,” Max said, sitting down beside you.

You were starting to get cold but you didn’t want to go inside yet because you were having fun talking to Ma. Max noticed you shivering. He gave you his jacket which was warm and smelled like him. The two of you continued to talk about the little things when you were interrupted by Max getting a text which made him from a little. Not long after Max got the text your brother ripped open the back sliding glass door stepping outside with Daniel following behind him.

“What’s going on out here?” Lando asked, visibly annoyed.

“Lando relax we were just talking”

“Yeah well Max I think it’s time for you to leave now”

“Lando come on don’t be like that,” you said. He always did this; it didn't matter who it was when it came to guys talking to you. You hated how protective he was over you.

“No no no y/n it’s okay I gotta call it a night anyway I have an early meeting tomorrow anyways I’ll see you tomorrow,” Max said walking away with Daniel following him.

“What is your problem Lando”

“He’s six years older than you y/n that’s my problem”

“I’m not a child anymore god I can’t do anything without you freaking out!” You yelled at him.

“No, but I’m your older brother and I don’t want you to get hurt”

“I can’t get hurt if you never let me do anything,” you said walking past Lando to your room.

Laying down in your bed you remember you never gave Max back his jacket getting out of bed you texted him.

Y/n— hey I’m sorry about Lando

Max— it’s OK I’m like that with my sister sometimes

Y/n— you forgot your jacket

Max— keep it

Looking at that message you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach realizing that Lily was right and that Lando didn’t have to know a thing…

145 notes · View notes

rzyraffek · 1 year

Note

sup bestie pls do anything with Billy Lenz, Brahms and Asa. LITTERALY ANY KIND OF HEADCANON PLS I NEED THEM. USe she/her and let it be fluffly pls!!!!

YOO RAT MEN HEADCANONS ( Brashms Heelshire, Asa Emory and Billy lenz) Request open

I wrote mostly about how they avt when they are home alone with their s/o

SFW, SHE/HER, NO TRIGGER WARNINGS INCLUDED (except billy lenz being billy lenz)

Billy Lenz

Billy Lenz would 100% hiss at people to intimidate them, also probably bite too, he is very goblinish

Probably gets scared of loud sudden noises and fights dishwashers and washingmachines. Oh and he hates baths or showers, he just hates it >:( especially when water isn't boiling hot (this little gremlin is from hell he has needs), she needs to convince him by promising some tasty cookies afterwards or whatever yall want to do idc

Will eat uncooked food

Bites and fights her as sign of affecion, please do it too he will enjoy

How to food? He does not know. But pls let him cook with you he loves any kind of attention even if its 'how to cut apple tutorial'

He is smart but rather crazy and overreactive and he might accidently do a lil upsy when he has one of his maniac episodes so you better speedrun the hell away

Oh God buy him a cell phone for Gods sake.. wait maybe not he will prank call even more then

He will complain alot about s/o having to work and leaving house every few days. For your own sake find him a hobby, like idk peace of paper and crayons or play doh or idk just some long ass movies to watch

Brahms

My men really🧍‍♂️👁👁

He has episodes when he talks sosso much but he may also go very non verbal in some situations or when he feels certain ways

Also hes the type of person that when he takes dishes out of dishwasher and puts them back on the shelf he segregates plates by colors and shapes so they look pretty ^^

He likes hair accessories! And loves when she plays with his hair

He loves baths, just sitting ans vibing, especially when s/o helps him wash hair or just bathes with him

He will randomly make random noises like, yall just sitting reading books, he will stare at her eyes and go 🦖🐬

PLEASE TOUCH GIM NOT EVEN IN ROMANTIC WAY BUT OVER ALL PLEASE JUST HE NEEDS PHISICAL CONTACT SO MUCJ HE WILL DIE

Asa emory

"Oh hi Asa i see your back from job💖😊" "i killed them all🧍" "😨you mean like??? People you kidnaped or? "Bees attacked me🧎"

Not very affecjonate but will give a lot of gifts! And spent all free time he has.

ALSO OMG GOING TO ESCAPE ROOM WITH ASA WOULD BE SO WILD!! HE SHOULD BR MAKING THOSE (legally i mean)

#slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #brahms heelsire #brahms x reader #asa emory x reader #asa x reader #collector x reader #the collector x reader #the collector #black christmas #the boy 2016 #brahms imagine

153 notes · View notes

cjrights · 2 days

Text

songs that remind me of my dysfunctional family

this is random but i love my fam fam so much so here we go

ngl this is only alora and luce but i love my extended family and daughter as well 😘😘😘😘😘😘

A L O R A M Y P R I N C E S S

@iminlovewithpaigebueckers

Halley’s Comet (billie eilish) - one of my fav songs ever and the vibes are very alora: “ive been loved before but right now in this moment, i feel more and more like i was made for you”

intro (end of the world) (ariana grande) - song makes me feel like im taking a breath of fresh air and so does alora so! “if the moon went dark tonight, and if it all ended tomorrow, would i be the one on your mind?”

Enchanted (taylor swift) - hehehe one of my favs on speak now and lyrics just ring true! “ill spend forever wondering if you knew, i was enchanted to meet you”

Best Thing I Got (sabrina carpenter) - this song is so fye and it’s so cutie and baby wlw coded “and i don’t think it’s any kind of secret, i feel your love from a million miles away… your love is the best thing that I got, and it’s only just begun”

seven (taylor swift) - yeah iykyk the best series ever ever go read rn cause just duh “your braids like a pattern, love you to the moon and to saturn”

I’ll Kill You (summer walker) - whole song idk i don’t want to talk ab it “you know I love you like no one else could, i go to hell and back for you”

PTPOM 2.0 (mohead mike) - self explanatory i fear “put that pussy on me…”

love language (ariana grande) - whole damn song tbh (free alora) “i promise it’s the little things you do that make me want to give it all to you… teach me how to love you im not learning what ain’t right, i want you to keep speaking my love language baby talk your shit all night”

Sunsetz (cigarettes after sex) - the vibe reminds me of her “and when you go away i still see you”

lacy (olivia rodrigo) - not the parts where it’s like i fucking hate you and want to be you so bad but the sweet parts 🥰 “i see you everywhere, the sweetest torture one could bare”

cardigan (taylor swift) - because alora is my comfort person “and when i felt like i was an old cardigan, you put me on and said i was your favorite”

L U C E M Y T W I N

@lucespeaks

TOPIA TWINS (travis scott) - do i even need to explain “twin bitches, twin bitches hopping off a jetski”

I miss you, I’m sorry (gracie abrams) - this is our song whenever we fight smh 😔 “and i know you said that we’re not talking, but i miss you, im sorry”

Bags (clairo) - this is luce’s songggg and alora too!! “know you’d make fun of me” (lololol)

Nobody Gets Me (sza) - JUST CAUSE YEAH “how am i supposed to let you go? only like myself when im with you, nobody gets me you do”

everything i wanted (billie eilish) - a song literally written about a sibling bond so yk “and you say as long as i am here, no one can hurt you”

Thinkin Bout You (frank ocean) - beautiful song like my beautiful twin “cause ive been thinking about forever”

Somewhere Only We Know (keane) - a love letter to my twin “oh simple thing, where have you gone? i’m getting old and i need something to rely on”

Treacherous Twins (Drake) - also self explanatory “you my treacherous lil’ twin and you know that we locked in”

LIGHT SHOWER (melanie martinez) - not the horny parts because… but this is one of my fav songs and it reminds me of twin “you are the light ive been searching for forever”

cowboy like me (taylor swift) - CAUSE WE THE SAME PERSON FR FR “takes one to know one, you’re a cowboy like me”

Poison Poison (reneé rapp) - THIS ONE IS A JOKE BUT I HAD TO INCLUDE “you get on my nerves, you’re so fucking annoying”

#cj loves music #random lyrics #alora my princess #luce my twin #dysfunctional family #I LOVE MY FAM FAM #truly my girls #wouldn’t trade them for the world

21 notes · View notes

slashersthings · 7 months

Text

bad idea, right? // Billy Loomis x Reader

“God this place is crowded.” Your friend groans out from somewhere behind you. You were eager to agree with her while you slide on top of a barstool, fingers tapping the sticky bar counter while waiting to order drinks.

The night out of partying had been unexpected but welcomed in your eyes. You definitely needed to chill out and get drunk for once in your life. Or at least that’s what everyone always told you.

So that’s how you found yourself at this overcrowded and chaotic bar, wearing a tight little black dress that was way too short than you were used to. It rides up your thighs when you sit down and with a sigh, you tug the hem down as much as the fabric would allow.

But after two rum and coke’s you were feeling much better and even let your more wild friend drag you with her to the dance floor. You laugh and sway your hips, feeling good to let loose for the night.

You danced with her for a good while, but she soon got distracted by a random stranger and you watch on as she gets swept up in muscular arms and tanned skin, a twinge of jealousy irking you.

You reach the bar again, trying, but failing desperately to get the busy bartender’s attention so you could order a third drink. You were just about to give up when a gruff voice from beside you says, “You should try being a bit more aggressive.”

You weren’t asking for advice but something inside you compels you to reply with a, “Is that so?”

The voice belonged to a man that looked to be your age you notice when you glimpse at him. The next thought that popped in your brain was how incredibly hot this guy was.

He offers you a sly grin before hollering for the bartender, ordering two drinks and two shots.

You quirk a brow when a glass of rum and coke comes your way down the counter, followed by a shot of tequila. “Trying to get me drunk?”

“Will you stay here if I say yes?”

Without answering, you tap his shot glass and knock back the liquor, wincing as it burned down your throat before dropping the glass back to the countertop. “God, I hate tequila.”

You reach for your more liked rum and coke, taking a long sip as your new friend laughs to himself. “I hope I got your drink right.”

You were a little taken aback that he had in fact gotten it right. “Yes.”

“Was that a yes to your drink or yes you’ll stay?”

He was smirking now, that smugness making you feel all sorts of things as you wiggle on the bar stool. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

“Well you haven’t gotten up and left yet, so…”

That was true. Plus it wasn’t like you could turn down a free drink. So with a discreet smile, you take another sip. “My name’s Y/N.”

“Billy.” He answers.

You felt yourself unable to stop staring at him.

Not only was he hot, but he also had this bad boy vibe mixed with a little bit dangerous that made you oddly attracted to him as you move in closer. “Here alone?” You ask him, feeling a rush of confidence thanks to the liquor coursing through your veins.

“Nah, my friend is here somewhere dancing.”

“Likewise. Guess that leaves you and me.”

“Something tells me you don’t mind that.”

You duck your head when a pretty blush creeps up your face. You distract yourself by taking another long swig of your drink, finally answering with a simple, “Maybe.”

“Something also tells me that you’re here to get some revenge.”

You turn back to him, shocked. Had you been that obvious? “The dress, the attitude, not telling me to take a hike,” Billy continues, pointing out every single dutiful aspect of your revenge scheme, almost like he had been there with you earlier picking out the outfit.

“So what’d he do?”

“Fucked my friend.” You admit honestly.

“He’s an idiot.” You nod in agreement, finishing off your drink with a sigh. “Well then you deserve to have some fun.”

“That’s what everyone tells me.”

“So when was the last time you had any?”

Your brow raises. The smirk on his face implied that he was no longer referring to just plain fun as he leans against the bar, watching you.

“Too long.”

His eyes run down your body slowly then back up to find you waiting expectantly for a response. “I could help change that, if you want.”

Oh you wanted. You shift in your seat, squeezing your thighs together, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Billy.

“Yes.”

—

Your entire body was on fire with need as Billy pushes you backwards onto his bed and climbs on top of you. You had lost your dress and bra somewhere along the way, maybe between the front door and his bedroom but you didn’t really care of the whereabouts.

Not when Billy was kissing you hard, tongue sweeping into your mouth as you’re dragged from your thoughts and back to the present.

Your hands fly to his hair as you moan and open your mouth, tasting the liquor he’d been drinking earlier at the bar.

You roll your hips against him, moaning again at the contact. “How long’s it been?” Billy asks and leans up slightly, hands running down your body as you think for a second.

“… Erm, a month?”

“Was he good?”

“He wasn’t terrible.”

Billy quirks a brow, that damn smirk returning to his lips as you grind against him. “Ringing endorsement, Y/N.”

Your name on his lips has you moaning, hips bucking as his fingers glide down between your thighs then back up again, purposefully ignoring your whine of protest when he didn’t go right to where you desperately wanted him.

“He was decent.” You offer again, muscles twitching at his low chuckle while his hands slide back up to your chest, fingers brushing against your nipples.

“Yeah?” Billy questions, “What’d he do that was so exciting for you? Was it his tongue, or was it his fingers?”

“Fingers I guess.” You answer quickly, shrugging. “He wasn’t into… y’know.”

“What a shame.” He mutters, lips finding your neck as he presses sloppy kisses from your throat to your collarbone, tongue sliding across your skin. His fingers dance back down your stomach, asking, “Was he even good at fingering you?”

The words have you moaning, coupled with Billy’s expert fingers running down your thighs and back up again, toying with the lace edge of your panties. “Hmm? How wet did you get for him?”

You were incapable of thinking about your previous boyfriend but what you did know was that Billy’s questions alone already had you incredibly wet and he hadn’t even really touched you fully yet.

Your hips grind against his fingers, but when you don’t answer, he stops out of the blue. You whine again, eyes opening to glare up at him.

“You can take these off, you know.” You were referring to your underwear, and he chuckles again.

“Oh I know. A little eager, aren’t we?” He taunts you with a smirk, his fingers skating under the band of your panties, discovering just how wet you were already.

You whimper when he withdraws his fingers after a second. “Did you get this wet for your ex boyfriend?”

“I don’t think you did,” Billy adds, answering for you since all you could coherently do was groan out a curse. “I think you like it like this. You like being talked to, you like being told to wait.”

“Fuck,” You moan again, the heat growing in your stomach making it hard to concentrate on anything but that. You had never wanted to be utterly ravaged like this before.

“Am I right, Y/N? Did he ever get you this wet before?”

“No.” You admit, shaking your head.

Instead of responding, he kisses you again, then down your neck, down down until he finds your breasts and kisses patterns across them, tongue flicking against your nipples.

You moan, hips bucking, fingers tightening in his hair as his mouth moves down your body, licking and sucking on every inch of your skin.

He groans when he reaches your underwear, helping to take them off of you before carelessly tossing them to the floor by his bed.

You weren’t expecting the first lick of his tongue against your exposed clit, a rush of moans and curses falling from your lips. He leans back and chuckles, pressing soft kisses all along your thighs.

“Your boyfriend didn’t like going down on you?”

His voice was a mixture of annoyance and judging as his tongue darts back out to flick against your clit again, your moans sounding like music to his ears as he laps at your wet folds.

“Oh, fuck,” You groan out when he increases his pace, hips bucking against him. A loud cry is ripped from your throat, back arching as you squirm and moan Billy’s name.

His tongue circles your sensitive bud, flicking it as your cries grow more louder and desperate for release. Your hips roll once then twice, crashing forward as a spasming tremor hit you, flowing out in a hot wave as you fall back on the bed and attempt to catch your breath.

Billy crawls back up your body, pulling you in for a kiss after your first orgasm. His tongue slides across your bottom lip, swallowing your breathless moan as you taste yourself.

Thank god you came out tonight.

#kind of smutty #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #scream #horror one shot #horror

75 notes · View notes